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  RESCUING THE WILDCAT

  Christmas Rescue

  Book Ten

  Angela Lain

  Copyright 2020 .Angela Lain

  ISBN 9798618144087

  Independently published

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.

  Christmas Rescue

  Here’s where to find the rest of the series:

  https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08121FXK3

  Many thanks to the other authors in this series. A big thank you to Virginia McKevitt for the beautiful covers she created for this series

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  CHAPTER ONE

  December 6th 1878

  S he pulled her long dark hair back into a queue and twisted it to form a bun. It wasn’t particularly tidy, but it wasn’t easy to control. She needed to keep it out of her way, and out of the sight of others. As a child she had braided it, or even let it hang loose, but now she was working in the town people noticed so much more.

  She glared at her reflection; dark hair, dark eyes, dark name! Why had her father not called her something sensible, like Martha or Mary? No, he had named her after her mother, the young woman who had died giving her life. She could hardly criticize him for wishing to honor her mother, but it did make life difficult. The name made people look twice, and then they saw the truth.

  Kanti! Kanti McGrath; it labelled her.

  She could have called herself by another name, but her father would be heartbroken. So she stuck it out and accepted her punishment for something she could never change. Her grandmother had been Cree, her grandfather a mountain trapper. Her father had met and married her mother when he had been travelling as a young man. She didn’t remember much of her younger childhood, just that there had been her and her father, always moving on. From what he told her, her mother, also Kanti, died soon after she had given birth. How her father had managed with a new-born baby she had never discovered, because he wouldn’t talk of those desperate times.

  And now, most people accepted her as a hard working girl, but there were always those who looked askance, who muttered under their breath about her heritage.

  She completed her preparations, and headed out onto the main street to walk the few blocks to work. It would take her all of five minutes to reach the small hotel where she cleaned and helped to cook. As work went, she could cope, but she disliked every minute of it. She was counting the days until her father returned from his work. She had expected him to be home three weeks ago, she hoped there was nothing wrong.

  Her father, Reuben McGrath, was no fool; he knew his letters, he had a reasonable education, but he was not a man who liked to stay in one place. Rueben liked to travel, to see over the next ridge. He had a home, a small homestead ranch in southern Wyoming, to which he returned most winters. When Kanti had been a child she had travelled with him, from job to job, ranch to ranch. She had been taken along on cattle drives, she had been there for round-ups, and she had also been left behind on some of the ranches. As she had matured, her father’s employers had been reluctant to take her along. Apparently she had become a distraction for the men, hence she was left behind.

  This year her father had gone back to the cattle business, he had ridden away in early spring, headed for Texas, from whence he would head up the trail with a big herd. In his absence she had taken a job in Radnor Spring some sixteen miles from their home. Her father preferred her to be somewhere with people to help her if she should need them. When he came back, they would go home to the cabin; the place where she had been born, where her mother was buried. The only real home she had ever known.

  “Good morning, Miss McGrath.” Mrs. Hislop was always correct. Although she had said nothing, Kanti knew the woman had been shocked when someone had pointed out her native heritage. Luckily she had already established a good work ethic, and Mrs. Hislop was loathe to let her go. Truth be told, there were few women around to do this work, Mrs. Hislop needed her.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Hislop. Are you expecting any new visitors this morning?”

  “We have one lady booked in, we must be prepared for others,” Mrs. Hislop returned. “Go and check that the front room is ready for her arrival.”

  Kanti headed off to do as ordered. Being continually ordered about was galling, but she had to hold her tongue, she needed the money.

  ***

  Later that morning the lady in question arrived at the ladies hotel, as Mrs. Hislop liked to call it. She did not accept single gentleman visitors, she maintained that the place was to be kept for ‘a good class of lady.’ And married couples. Kanti thought it restricted Mrs. Hislop’s income, but from her own point of view it meant she avoided unwanted advances from gentlemen.

  Miss Tatum was a lady several years older than her own twenty-one years. Mid-brown hair and pale blue eyes, she was a homely looking girl with a rail thin body. To Kanti, the poor girl looked under-fed and rather unhappy.

  “How many nights will you be staying, Miss Tatum?” Mrs. Hislop enquired. It was her not too subtle way of enquiring what her business was in this town.

  “I may only need tonight. It depends when my husband-to-be arrives from Files Crossing.”

  “Oh. That is not far at all. Anyone we might know?” Mrs. Hislop was on it like a terrier on a rat.

  “I am awaiting Mr. Bradley Forncett.”

  Kanti was polishing glasses, and she didn’t miss Mrs. Hislop’s sharp intake of breath.

  “Mr. Bradley Forncett? You have been acquainted with him for some time?”

  Kanti watched from the corner of her eye as Miss Tatum blushed scarlet.

  “Um… well… Actually I answered his advertisement. I am a mail-order-bride. We have been conversing via letter for some weeks now.”

  “Oh!” Mrs. Hislop was much taken aback. “Oh, I see. Well. It is but eighteen miles to Files Crossing, I doubt he will keep you waiting long. You don’t expect him today?”

  “He said he would collect me on the morrow, I have no reason to doubt this.” Miss Tatum raised her chin and glared at Mrs. Hislop. Kanti couldn’t help but admire her forthright manner. She wished she could do the same. Many was the time she had wanted to give it straight to Mrs. Hislop, but she couldn’t afford to lose her job.

  “Take Miss Tatum to her room, Miss McGrath.”

  Kanti moved and picked up the overnight bag, presumably Miss Tatum’s trunk was still at the rail station.

  “Follow me if you please, Miss.”

  She mounted the stairs, Miss Tatum followed with her nose stuck firmly in the air. The lady didn’t seem open to any sort of conversation or discussion.

  Kanti descended the stairs several minutes later to find Mrs. Hislop agog with the news. She was an inveterate gossip, although she generally did this with her friends, not Kanti. Obviously this titbit of information was too interesting not to be discussed immediately.

  “Did you hear that? Mr. Bradley Forncett has sent for a mail-order-bride!” she scoffed. “I will believe that when the moon turns blue!”

  “Who is Mr. Bradley Forncett?”

  “A businessman from Files Crossing. It’s the sort of business he is involved
in which raises the eyebrows.” She gawked at Kanti in a horrified fashion.

  “And that is?”

  “He’s a procurer!”

  “A what?”

  “A procurer; he gets women for men, like prostitutes. No doubt he doesn’t want a wife, it’s for someone who cannot find their own woman. He runs the den of iniquity. That girl has no idea what she is getting into.”

  “Then we should warn her!” Kanti gasped.

  “Maybe we should, But… it is not our business. Maybe she will see sense when she meets the man, he is… not a nice man.”

  Kanti was hardly surprised by that revelation.

  She got on with her work. Mrs. Hislop may have liked to continue the gossip, but Kanti knew well that later she would regret having been so open with her ‘hired help’. Then the woman would be short and unpleasant with her, to make sure she remembered her place. The conversation was interesting, but Kanti had never been much for gossip, she preferred to listen and to store it all away in her head. She always knew, but she didn’t need to let everyone else know how much she knew.

  ***

  Jared Buckingham-Brown was annoyed with himself. He had made an error of judgment. When he had finished the cattle drive, taken his money and ridden away from Dodge City, he had indulged in his love of adventure. He was his father’s son; Rupert, Earl of Edesbury, had travelled widely through this land in his youth, and Jared, at four and twenty, wished to do the same.

  He had been told he looked more like his father than did his brother Lance, he had the same mid-brown hair and grey eyes. Lance resembled his mother, black hair and dark eyes, but resemblance or not, he was the heir. Since Jared was neither heir nor spare, he had been allowed to take on this adventure.

  Unfortunately he had become so involved in what he was doing, he had allowed time to run away. Now he was stuck! He had told his half-brother Eddie, who lived in Oregon with his family, that he would be back there for Christmas. But it was now early December, too late to risk crossing the mountains.

  His last few months had been spent firstly exploring the Black Hills, then moving on to Wyoming, visiting the wonders of the Yellowstone River, seeing the hot springs and geysers. He would not have missed it for the world, but he had taken too long, and now he was riding south in the hope he could find a place to land for the winter season. He had ridden through the Wind River ranges and now he was heading for a small homestead a few miles south of the mining town whimsically known as known as Miners Delight, in the South pass area of Wyoming. Here he hoped to be welcomed by his friend and erstwhile trail companion, Reuben McGrath.

  He knew from Reuben that the settlements in this area were transient, dependent very much on the gold mines. Rueben was no miner, he was more interested in his homestead, and the land he held with it.

  He could head for the larger town of Radnor Spring, several miles further on, but Jared had not come to America for the towns and cities, he had come for the wild mountains and the woods. He had grown up hearing tales from his father and Lance. Cities he could see in England, here he wanted the wilderness. Thus far he had not been disappointed.

  CHAPTER TWO

  T he next morning Kanti returned to work from the small room she rented from Widow Turner. She served Miss Tatum with her breakfast in the dining room. To her satisfaction, Mrs. Hislop asked the questions and Kanti was in a position to listen.

  “Where is Mr. Forncett meeting you? Just so we can direct you and make sure you arrive in good time.”

  “I am to be outside Carruthers Saloon at eleven this morning.”

  “Ahh, Carruthers is the owner, it is not called after him, it is The Black Ace saloon, if you look for Carruthers you will not find your way,” Mrs. Hislop confided knowledgably. “If you would like anyone to accompany you, just to ensure you are not bothered on your way to the saloon, I am sure Miss McGrath would be happy to oblige.”

  The idea had not entered Kanti’s head until that second, but it was true, she would walk along if Miss Tatum required her to do so.

  Miss Tatum glanced in her direction. “I think I might appreciate that, it is hard being alone in a new town. Once my husband-to-be arrives I will have no more fears.”

  Kanti saw Mrs. Hislop’s expression as Miss Tatum uttered these words, obviously she believed the lady to be very mistaken about her husband-to-be!

  “If you are downstairs and ready by ten-thirty, Miss McGraw will walk along with you. She will not intrude, but she will make sure you arrive safely at your destination.”

  Mrs. Hislop directed a glare in her direction and Kanti realized she was supposed to respond.

  “Certainly I will. It is cold out there, make sure you bring a warm wrap, if you are a little early you may have to stand in the wind.”

  “Thank you, Miss McGrath. I will see you in a while.” Miss Tatum returned to her room to ready herself for her meeting with her husband-to-be.

  Mrs. Hislop moved closer to mutter to Kanti, “I know this is none of our business, but I cannot help but worry over this. If you think there is a problem, take her immediately to the sheriff’s office.”

  What could Kanti do but nod in agreement? This was beginning to sound like a difficult situation.

  An hour later she accompanied Miss Tatum along the boardwalk to the Black Ace saloon. The veranda was wide; later in the day, and in the summer, men used to sit smoking and drinking and watching the world go by from this veranda. Today, in the cold December wind, it was deserted.

  They stood on the veranda, the saloon behind them sported a large sign and had an open half door like a stable. This meant people could look in, and even at this hour of the morning they could hear a piano playing. Kanti was tempted to take a look, but it was most improper for a lady to even think of such a thing. Had she been alone, she might have given in to the impulse, but in the presence of the so-stiff Miss Tatum, it did not seem a good idea.

  For maybe ten minutes they waited in the icy wind, Miss Tatum was beginning to look frightened, and even a little ill. Her face was pinched with cold. Kanti could feel only sympathy. Maybe she had brought it on herself, answering a mail-order bride advertisement, but women only did such a thing when they were short on choices. Maybe the poor woman had nowhere else to go?

  Suddenly the door to the saloon swung open with a bang, and a big, well-dressed man paraded out. Kanti supposed he thought himself a gentleman, in a smart suit and string tie, but his manner was not polite. He sported a thick mustache, curled affectedly at the ends, and his hair was slicked with bay rum, making it hard to tell the exact shade.

  “Ahh. I believe you may be waiting for me?” He eyed them both even though Kanti was standing back and trying to remain inconspicuous.

  “Mr. Forncett?” Miss Tatum enquired in a rather wobbly voice.

  “Indeed, I am Bradley Forncett. And you are?”

  “Miss Lissette Tatum.”

  Kanti thought that was a little impolite of Mr. Forncett. He had been awaiting Miss Tatum. Surely he didn’t need to ask who she was?

  Kanti watched as the man looked Miss Tatum up and down.

  “Hmmp, not quite what your letters promised, are you?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Miss Tatum responded in a horrified squeak.

  “Twenty-four? You are thirty if you’re a day. And there’s no meat on you to talk of. What’s a man supposed to get a hold of?”

  Miss Tatum stepped back with a gasp.

  “What do you have to recommend you?”

  “I…I… I told you all about myself in my letters,” she insisted.

  “Hmm, maybe you did, but you are not the only one, so how am I supposed to remember? Anyhow, now I’ve seen you, I’m not at all sure you would suit.” He glanced behind her to where Kanti stood by the wall. “What about your friend?”

  “How dare you?” Miss Tatum snapped. “She is not my friend, she is merely the lady who walked from the hotel with me. And what do you mean, I’m not the only one?”

  He gave
a snort of laughter. “Plenty of women like the idea of a well-off husband, why would you think you’re the only one?”

  Miss Tatum gave an outraged squawk. “I have never been so insulted…”

  “Ah, stubble your noise. You won’t do at all, and I paid good money for your ticket. You duped me, and now you owe me. Since you are not up to scratch, I want that money back. Your friend, on the other hand, has definite possibilities.” He stepped towards Kanti.

  She backed away, grabbing Miss Tatum’s arm as she did so.

  “Come, we’ve heard enough. Let’s go.”

  Miss Tatum gave her a confused look. “But…”

  “Do you honestly want to think of marrying this odious man?” Kanti hissed to her.

  “I… no!”

  “Then we will leave.” She steered Miss Tatum down the steps and across the road to the opposite sidewalk, intent on leaving Mr. Bradley Forncett as far behind as possible.

  His voice floated after them. “You, little miss, can run, but you can’t hide from me. I will find out who you are and come looking.”

  Kanti was well aware that he was talking to her, not to poor Miss Tatum, who hadn’t fared well at all in this mail-order bride situation.

  They arrived back at the hotel as speedily as Kanti could rush her companion along. She wanted to get off the street and away from prying eyes. It was cold and there were fewer people out and about than in better weather, but the encounter with Mr. Forncett had not gone unnoticed. There would be gossip, and there might be repercussions.

  She hurried Miss Tatum into the lounge. Mrs. Hislop, who had been in the rear room, hurried through to discover what was occurring.

  Miss Tatum collapsed onto the sofa and began to sob.

  “Mrs. Hislop, I think a nice cup of tea would be in order, if you could?” Kanti suggested.

  “Whatever has happened? Miss Tatum, what is wrong?”

  Miss Tatum wailed and buried her face in her handkerchief.