Montana Renegade Read online

  “Is that the only way you will welcome your cousin to town?” her mother asked. “I would think you would show more enthusiasm at his presence.”

  Helen shook her head, ignoring the few townsfolk on the boardwalk who were watching the scene with blatant curiosity. “Why should I? He is here on your invitation.”

  Her mother stepped forward, gripping Helen’s arm in a punishing hold. “He is here to marry you and to save our family from becoming social pariahs.”

  “You haven’t heard the news, Mother?” Helen smiled as she ignored her mother’s painful grip on her arm. “I am married. And quite happily so.”

  “Bah. You marriage is not legal and not binding. You were not content to play the whore in town and desired to continue the charade on that horrid ranch.”

  Helen shook her head. “No, Mother. You are mistaken. Our first ceremony was legal, as all common law marriages are in the Territory.” Her triumphant smile fueled her mother’s rage. “I am married to the lawyer, and he is adept at the law.”

  “He’s no lawyer. Everyone in town knows that he doesn’t have a real degree and that he’s been fleecing us for some time. Why, he tried to destroy Mr. Finlay out of spite.”

  Helen took a deep breath before whacking her mother’s hand and freeing her arm. She stepped a pace away from her mother’s touch. “Mr. Finlay was—is—a liar and a thief. If the townsfolk aren’t intelligent enough to see the good fortune they have in Warren’s unmasking of the banker’s true nature, then they deserve to falter and fail.”

  Her mother held up a bony finger and wriggled it in front of her face. “The fact remains you are not legally married to that man, and you are disgracing your family!”

  “No, Mother, I am married. I married him again last night, with the MacKinnons present and the pastor performing the ceremony. Two wedding celebrations is more than most women can boast of.” She smiled with triumph before gasping as her cousin moved with stealthy speed from behind her mother to grip Helen and push her into a space between buildings. Her mother appeared equally surprised by his actions before smiling with delight.

  “Listen here, Cousin Helen. I didn’t travel all this way for no reason. You are to be my wife. If you are divorced or widowed, it doesn’t matter to me.” His cheek bulged with a wad of tobacco, and his brown eyes shone with anger. “Your family was not at that ceremony, so I would think it was not official on that account.”

  “Of course it wasn’t!” her mother exclaimed. “Oh, how intelligent your cousin is.”

  “Let me go!” Helen hissed as she kicked at his legs and tried to free herself from his grasp. “I will never marry you.”

  “You will if you have any sense.” He smiled evilly. “But then you might not be that fond of your lawyer and might not care if he comes to an early end.”

  “Don’t you dare hurt him!” Helen snapped. “He’s done nothing to you.”

  “Oh, he’s done plenty. He stole my bride.” He watched her shudder as he fingered his pistol holster. “And I get mighty testy when something that’s mine is taken from me.”

  “I was never yours. I will never be yours,” Helen said as she kicked him again, grunting in pain as her toes hit his boot covered shins.

  “Think about what I said, cousin,” Bertrand said as he released her. “I’m not a patient man.”

  He held out his arm to escort her mother from the small alleyway, while Helen remained against the wall of the building. She watched them leave, chattering as though their only concern were to discuss the threat of more snow. After many minutes she emerged, forgoing the trip to the Merc and traveled to the safety of the home she shared with Warren.

  Warren stared into the fire, his gaze flitting every few moments to Helen who sat curled into herself on the far side of the settee with a blanket around her. She had shied away from any contact with him since he had returned from his law office, and he had hoped the soothing crackle of the fire would induce her to speak of her concerns with him. He stretched out his legs and closed his eyes, giving her a few more minutes before confronting her.

  When he opened his eyes, he frowned to see her swiping away a tear. “Won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” When she remained quiet, he rose and sat on the settee. He held out his hand, palm up and sighed with contentment when she reached from under her blanket to clasp his hand. “Was Tobias terribly rude today?”

  “No. If anyone was rude, it was me. He even delivered our groceries.” She sniffled. “I saw my mother.”

  Warren groaned and tugged on her hand, encouraging her to snuggle into his arms. “Come here, love. Let me hold you.”

  “I can’t do what she asks, Warren.”

  He kissed her head and smiled. “Of course not. She’s still trying to control you, and you must break free of her.”

  Helen pushed away, her palms on his broad chest as tears coursed down her cheeks in a silent stream. “No, you don’t understand. My cousin Bertrand was with her. And he’s as vile as I remember. I think he’s worse than Walter now, if that’s possible.”

  Warren nodded, encouraging her with his silence to continue to speak.

  “He shoved me into a small alley between buildings.”

  Warren’s anger grew, but he held his tongue. She was finally opening up to him and he knew he had to be patient to learn the truth behind her fears.

  “Told me that I had to marry him. That he would not be denied marrying me.” She wrapped her arms protectively about her middle.

  “It doesn’t matter what he wants. He won’t get it. We’ve married. Twice.” He kissed her forehead, frowning as his words and actions failed to still the tension thrumming through her.

  “He … he said he would marry me—whether I was divorced or a widow, he didn’t care. But that it was my choice.” Her expression was terrified as it met Warren’s. “He’s a good shot, Warren. I’ve heard Walter talk about his exploits for years, and I … I fear you would not survive.”

  “He’s threatening to kill me?” Warren raised his eyebrows in surprise. “This is what he’s doing to entice you to leave me?”

  She hit him on the shoulder. “Don’t! Don’t joke about a man wanting to kill you.” She sniffled. “Nothing is worth that.”

  He paused a moment as though waiting for her to speak more and then held her chin between two fingers in a gentle but firm grip, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You’re not worth it? That’s what you’re saying?” He waited until she gave a tiny nod. He growled and pushed her away to stand up.

  “Warren?” she whispered.

  “What do you think I mean when I tell you that I love you?” he asked as he paced in front of the fire. He came to a halt in front of it, his back to her and his body outlined by the bright light. “How do you think it makes me feel to listen to you tell me about a man threatening you?”

  “He didn’t threaten me! Didn’t you listen to anything I said? He says he’ll harm you.” She fisted her hands together on her lap.

  “No, Helen. Any possibility that you will ever be within the realm of your mother’s or brother’s control again is a threat against you. And I cannot abide that.” He turned to face her with passion-lit eyes. “You are the most precious person in this world to me, and I will do what I have to in order to protect you.”

  “You can’t die!” Her voice emerged as a whisper as her throat closed on her tears, rather than the shout she had intended.

  “I have no desire to die, my love. But I refuse to allow you to martyr yourself in some harebrained idea to protect me.” He shook his head. “Don’t you know I couldn’t bear to live without you?”

  She took a deep stuttering breath. “I can bear anything, Warren, but living in a world without you in it.”

  His jaw tightened, and he moved to the settee, kneeling in front of her and grasping her shoulders tightly, almost to the point of bruising. “You’d be willing to leave me? To return to them? To allow your brother to beat and bruise you again? To marry Bertrand?” He watched as t
he color leeched away from her face the longer he spoke. “To sleep with him at night? To allow him access to your body?” He shook his head as her tears fell faster. “Is that what you want?”

  “No! Damn you, no. But he can’t kill you, Warren.”

  He smiled and brushed at her soaked cheeks. “You must know that a bully will always use these sorts of threats because they aren’t intelligent enough to find another way.”

  She shook her head, falling forward into his arms. “I’m too tired and upset to understand your lawyerly plotting.”

  “We have other ways of destroying a man that have nothing to do with death, love,” he murmured into her ear. “All we must do is discover what will bring about his downfall.” He held her in his arms as she cried. “You aren’t alone anymore, Nell.”

  Her hold on him tightened. “I’m terrified of how much I rely on you.” She kissed his neck. “I can’t lose you.”

  He pulled her tighter to him. “You won’t, my darling. You won’t. I love you and no other. Together we will protect what we have.”

  Chapter 11

  The following afternoon Helen knocked on the door of the small building that housed the town’s newspaper and printing press. She entered after a distracted “Come in” was called out. She unbuttoned her cloak and unknotted her scarf, although she left it hanging around her neck. The hazel-colored scarf was a gift from Sorcha, who had teased that, since she’d given one to Warren to match his eyes, she needed to do the same for his wife.

  Helen paused inside the warm room, looking around at the absolute chaos. Stacks of papers littered every conceivable flat space, including the chairs and floor. Soon a path would need to be cleared if the papers continued to overflow. A few buckets of ink stood near the door, and reams of paper for the press were piled in any available space. The printing press sat to one corner of the room, and Jessamine stood on a stool, swearing as she worked on it. A lantern hung overhead, casting its light onto the press. Helen watched as Jessamine used a chisel to knock free a stuck letter and then swore once more as it broke.

  “Dammit, that’s the third S this week,” she muttered. She swiped a hand at her forehead, smearing it with black ink. Her smile broadened as she beheld Helen standing near the doorway. “Helen, lock the door. We don’t want others just wandering in.”

  Helen’s fascination with the printing press evaporated at Jessamine’s serious tone, and she spun to lock the door. She waited as Jessamine scampered off her stool and pulled out a gray cloth to swipe at her fingers.

  She motioned for Helen to approach her. Her voice was very low when she spoke. “Now, what I’m going to tell you, I’ve told no one. Not even Ewan.” She met Helen’s startled gaze. “He isn’t the best at keeping secrets. Always shares things with his siblings.” She shrugged. “Which I think is endearing but can be hard for a reporter.”

  She wandered to a desk covered in piles of loose papers and individual folders, extracting one from the middle without having to rifle through anything. Helen watched J.P. with wonder as she flipped it open. “Controlled chaos,” J.P. said with a shrug. “If you came in here and put everything in a filing cabinet, I wouldn’t print a paper for a month. As it is”—she waved around at the room—“I can function perfectly.” She shared a smile with Helen before sobering and tapping at the papers in the file.

  “This, this is concerning,” she said as she looked at it before focusing on Helen. “How much do you know about the town doctor?”

  “Just that he’s our town doctor. He arrived this fall after the other one left for Butte. On that doctor’s recommendation.” She squinted. “Didn’t he first appear after a fight at the Stumble-Out?”

  “Exactly,” Jessamine said. “Didn’t anyone think it odd that a doctor miraculously appeared when two drunken men waved around their guns after a poker game, and one was so inebriated that the darn thing went off?” She shook her head with exasperation. “It was a bet. A dare he took up when he was drunk. He’s another scam artist.” She blew out a huff of breath. “And we were too stupid to suspect anything.”

  Helen gasped as she looked at the chicken scratch of notes in front of J.P. “But he’s a doctor.”

  “No, he isn’t. He’s had no formal training. I spoke with him a few weeks ago about where he went to school, and I sent a telegram to confirm his attendance.” She held up the answering telegram. “They’ve never heard of him.”

  “No wonder he knows so little,” Helen whispered. “I always questioned why he knew next to nothing about childbirth.”

  Jessamine shrugged. “That doesn’t surprise me. Most men have no desire to learn more than they have to about how a woman’s body functions.” Her gaze stopped Helen from speaking. “Although it should be a requirement for a doctor.” She tapped at the paper in front of her. “What do I do with this information?”

  Helen sat on a pile of papers as her mind raced. “I don’t know. You’ll ruin his life here.”

  Jessamine snorted. “He’s attempting to ruin yours. And your husband’s. I don’t know why you’d have much sympathy for him.”

  Helen nodded and was silent for a few more minutes. “May I discuss this with Warren? You know he can be discreet.” She sighed with relief when Jessamine nodded her agreement. “I’ll return tomorrow to speak with you. Thank you for helping us.”

  Jessamine nodded. “You aren’t married to a MacKinnon, but the MacKinnon men consider Warren a brother. We protect our own.”

  Warren returned home that evening and met his wife’s worried gaze. “What’s happened? What did your cousin do? Your brother do?” He was unable to hide his panic as Helen remained silent.

  “Nothing, they did nothing,” she whispered, throwing herself into his arms. “I needed to speak with you so badly.”

  “Why didn’t you come to the law office?” he asked, kissing her head.

  She shivered and pushed herself more firmly into his embrace. “I wanted to be strong. And I worried I would be interrupting important work.”

  He held her close. “Nothing is more important than you, Nell.” He led her to the settee and coaxed her to sit next to him. “What is the matter?”

  “The midwife left town last week.”

  He nodded his understanding as it was not news.

  “And Jessamine discovered, she discovered …” Helen lowered her face as though about to hyperventilate. “The new doc’s not a doctor. He’s a charlatan. It’s why he never knows what to do and gives such superficial advice. Sometimes it’s good. Sometimes it’s horrible. It’s why he thinks laudanum is the cure for everything.”

  “What?” Warren gasped. “They went after me when the town doctor is no better than a, … than a …”

  “Than a poker player who fulfilled a bet.”

  Warren watched her with dawning understanding, quickly replaced by disgust. “It’s why, whenever there’s a calamity, he can always be found in the saloon or the Boudoir.” He watched Helen. “Who else knows?”

  “Just Jessamine, you and me.” She laced her fingers with his. “I fear Jessamine wasn’t excited about me informing you, but she understood that this news affects us both.”

  He watched her closely. “What do you want to do?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I hate that he can act like he has and be seen with esteem in this town while you struggle to maintain your reputation here.”

  Warren watched her with bright eyes. “Right now, with you in my arms, all that matters is that you know the truth. That we know the truth.”

  Helen snuggled into his embrace. “But we’ve known it for weeks. What do you want to do with what Jessamine has learned? What will the town do if we lose the new doc?” She frowned. “What would we do if we truly needed his help?”

  Warren shuddered. “I think we have no choice. She should publish what she knows and see what happens. I don’t think we could live with ourselves if someone were to suffer due to our hoarding this knowledge.”

  Helen shook all over
. “I hate that someone already might have been hurt.”

  He held her, concerned that she had failed to relax fully into his arms. “What else is it?” he whispered.

  “If he goes, I’ll be the only one here with any sort of knowledge about healing. I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility.”

  He frowned at her quavering voice. “Nonsense. You took charge when Cailean needed you to. You helped him and Annabelle have a healthy child. If you’d been allowed to, I know you would have excelled at school.” He nodded to the small desk in the parlor. “Every time I come home, the medical text is opened to a different chapter. You have a voracious appetite for knowledge.”

  She swiped at her cheeks and turned to meet his encouraging gaze. “But you don’t understand. I can’t be responsible for the health of this town. I want to help with what I am comfortable with, like childbirth. But I can’t … I know nothing about gout or palsy or …” Her voice broke as though overwhelmed at the possibilities of the things that she could face.

  He cupped her cheeks and lowered his forehead against hers. “You know as well as I do that the town will arrange for a new well-vetted doctor to come as soon as possible. And they will be thankful for your help in the meantime as it is needed.”

  She shook her head. “No, they won’t. They will always see me as pathetic Helen Jameson. They’ll never see me as a competent healer.”

  His discerning gaze focused on her. “Which is why you hid away your learning from everyone. You fail to realize that only you see yourself that way.” He kissed her. “And you’re no longer Helen Jameson. You’re Helen Clark.” His smile was chagrined. “Currently married to a disreputable lawyer. However, that will soon come to rights.”

  She burrowed into his side. “I’m holding my head high when I walk through town, Warren. I try to ignore the snickers and the whispers. But it’s hard.”

  He stroked a hand over her head. “You are strong, Nell, and I would help you with this, but the townsfolk must see you fight this battle without relying on me. They will soon come to accept you as they understand that ours was not a marriage of convenience.” He raised her hand and kissed it, staring deeply into her eyes. “I’ll continue to remind you how I see you, and hopefully you’ll see yourself as I do with more frequency.”