RYE
"I can’t believe we interrupted our time with Lily to deal with this jackass," I whispered to Keane. "She was telling us about her dirty fantasies, and we had to give that up for this idiot?"
Keane’s gaze met mine, and he shrugged and walked away. It wouldn’t help a possible sale for the buyer to see the two of us whispering like a couple of schoolgirls.
Mr. Wentworth studied Patsy, one of our best mares. He kept walking around her and mumbling to himself. Horse people, those who live and breathe all things equine, have a certain way about them, particularly when they are around horses. Mr. Wentworth was not one of those people.
I glanced westward toward the setting sun. I could swear he was stalling. For what reason, I had no idea, but we’d wasted too much time with him already. I cleared my throat and approached him, ready to give him the fish-or-cut-bait treatment. I glanced at Keane again, and he nodded.
"Mr. Wentworth, do you have any questions about Patsy? She’s one of our finest." I pulled a carrot from my pocket and held it out for her. She ate it daintily off my palm, and I rubbed her forelock. I’d hate to see her go with a man who wouldn’t appreciate her, and I was tempted to make up an excuse to put her back in her stall.
"Oh, yes, I can see that," our visitor said.
"Perhaps you’d like us to saddle her up for you, and you could take her for a ride?" Keane strode up next to me.
Timothy Wentworth’s eyebrow rose up in surprise at what seemed to me to be a reasonable suggestion. He licked his thin lips, and I thought for sure he’d be making an excuse to leave soon, which would please me very much. Instead he responded, "Yes, that’s a good idea."
We got Patsy saddled and boosted Mr. Wentworth onto her, then Keane and I mounted up as well. We weren’t going to let this stranger have free rein around Bridgewater or give him the chance to abscond with Patsy. I wondered if I ought to remind him of the penalty for horse thieves.
As we moved away from the stables and into the open pastures, we watched Timothy closely. Was he really that bad a rider? It appeared so. Keane and I got as close to him as seemed safe just to make sure nothing happened. An inexperienced rider was a danger to themselves and more importantly in this case, the horse.
I kept staring at Mr. Wentworth and racking my brain. I felt certain I’d seen him before, though I had no reason for why that would be true. We hardly moved in the same circles. However, he was from Butte, so maybe I’d had business with him there.
"Have we met before?" I asked, riding up next to him.
He startled and then shook his head. "No, I am sure we haven’t."
"What is your business in Butte? I certainly feel as though I have seen you before today. Perhaps we ran into each other on one of my visits months ago?"
"I work for a private businessman, so I doubt if we would have crossed paths." He gave Patsy a push with his heels, and surged forward, away from me and my questions.
We were getting farther and farther from the ranch, and by now Mr. Wentworth ought to have enough information to decide if he wanted to buy Patsy or not. I whistled for her, and she turned in my direction. "Patsy," I called out, "let’s go home."
"No!" Mr. Wentworth yanked on her reins. The motion of him pulling one way and Patsy trotting another threw him from the mare. Patsy, ever obedient, which was more than I could say for Mr. Wentworth, rushed back to the stables. I was tempted to follow along, but we had a duty to see to Mr. Wentworth and at least get him back to the stable so he could leave right away and return to Butte. However, it was too late in the day for that trip. He’d probably need to stay in a hotel nearby.
Hotel! Suddenly I remembered where I’d seen him. He’d been skulking around Lily’s room at the Hotel Imperial when I’d gone searching for a witness for our wedding. He’d given me a bad feeling then, and it was even worse right now.
Mr. Wentworth managed to get to his feet before Keane and I reached him, and he appeared uninjured.
"Now I remember where I saw you," I said, without even asking after his welfare. Because I didn’t care.
"Is that so?" he asked, seeming a bit more confident than he had before.
"You were at the Hotel Imperial about two weeks ago. Hanging around the empty room where our bride was staying." I grabbed him by the front of his coat and lifted him into the air. "What are you doing here? You’re no horse buyer."
LILY
"These are delicious!" I nibbled on a biscuit. It was light as air.
"Now that we’ve done it together, I’m sure you’ll be able to make perfect biscuits every time." Olivia spread jam on one of the golden discs.
"I don’t know if I could ever make biscuits this good." It melted on my tongue like a buttery snowflake.
"Of course you can. Remember not to mix it too much. Leave the lard in little pea-sized balls so it melts while baking and makes light layers. You can do it."
Olivia wrapped a few biscuits in a napkin and set it on the counter. "You can take these home with you for supper tonight."
I glanced out the window and noticed the sun was getting lower and lower on the horizon. How long did it take for a man to decide whether to buy a horse or not? I sighed. "I hadn’t planned to be away all afternoon," I said, wondering what I’d feed my husbands.
Olivia seemed to read my mind. "Help me peel some more potatoes and carrots to add to the meat I’m cooking, and we’ll have enough for all our husbands."
"That’s five hungry men," I said with a laugh.
"Well, we’d better hurry up," she replied. Being with Olivia was so easy. If I hadn’t noticed the sun getting lower, I never would have realized how long we’d been together.
She got out the vegetables and a couple of paring knives, and we set to work.
"Does it usually take this long for someone to buy a horse?" I asked.
Olivia shrugged. "I don’t know. That’s managed by Keane and Rye. Simon only got involved because the buyer knocked on our door. It was the oddest thing. We hardly ever have unexpected visitors. They take security very seriously around here."
"So I’ve noticed," I replied. "But I’m glad. It makes me feel safe."
"Yes, me, too. We are far from town or neighbors, so we have to watch out for ourselves." She cleaned a carrot and sliced it expertly into the bowl that sat between us on the table.
I was not quite so adept.
"Do you know who the man was? I think Simon mentioned he was from Butte."
"Oh, that’s right. You’re from Butte, too. I wonder if it’s someone you know. I sort of peeked at him from the kitchen. Simon purposely blocked the door with his big broad shoulders. They don’t want people gawking at their women." She finished another carrot while I continued to struggle with a particularly stubborn potato. "I didn’t get a very good look at him, but I think he said his name was Tim, maybe Timothy. Yes, that’s it. Timothy Wentworth."
I jabbed the knife into my thumb, and blood dripped out. "Oh," I cried reaching for a towel to clean it up.
"Are you all right, Lily?" Olivia jumped up from her seat and came to examine my thumb. "Good heavens, your hands are shaking. Are you one of those people who doesn’t like the sight of blood? You just turn the other way, and I’ll get some salve for this. Wait right here, I’ll be back in a minute."
As soon as she left the room, I scurried for the back door.
I had to find Keane and Rye and warn them.
Glancing from side to side, I didn’t see Cross anywhere. I knew my backside would pay the price for leaving the house alone, but I didn’t care. I had to get to my men.
Timothy, Mr. Garner’s disgusting henchman, had no scruples whatsoever. It made him an excellent assistant for the likes of Mr. Garner, but a horrible and dangerous human being. I had no idea what he was doing at Bridgewater, but it couldn’t be anything good.
I lifted my skirts and took off at a run.
KEANE
"Son of a bitch!" I grabbed the man from Rye and held him up in the air myself, the better to see his face in the waning sunlight. "You! I saw you at the stable the morning we left with Lily. You were slinking around there, too. Is that what you do? Hide in the shadows and spy on people?"
I tossed him to the ground and stood over him. "What do you think we ought to do with him, Rye?"
Rye glared down at the intruder. "What are you doing here?"
"And who is the ‘private businessman’ you work for?" I was starting to get an even worse feeling deep in my stomach.
He sneered up at us. "You Bridgewater men," he spat the words, "you think you don’t have to follow society’s rules. That you can bring your debauchery here to Montana Territory and do as you please. Fornicating and lying with women who are not your wives. This place ought to be burned down."
"That’s it," I said, drawing my gun and pointing it at him. "I’m going to shoot this motherfucker."
"Not yet." Rye dragged him to his feet. "Other than coming to call us names, what’s your business? Who do you work for?"
Though I seethed with anger, I holstered my gun. But I itched to punch this man, over and over. How dare he come out here and say our ranch ought to be burned down?
A vague memory popped into my head. Where else had I heard something similar? Lily. She’d told us her former employer belonged to a group...
"You know Lily!"
"Not as well as you do, fornicators."
My fist landed on his jaw with a resounding crack.
"Well, shit, Keane." Rye turned to me. Our prisoner was out cold. "How are we going to get any answers from him now?"
I shrugged. I hadn’t thought of that. But I regretted nothing. Bastard had it coming.
"We need to get back and check on Lily. I have a feeling this guy isn’t acting alone." Rye tossed the limp Mr. Wentworth over the saddle on his horse then mounted behind him.
"Agreed."
We were on our way back to the stable when Cross rode up.
"I thought you were supposed to be with Lily and Olivia," Rye said.
His expression was grim. "I can’t find her," Cross said, and my heart sank. "I can’t find Lily."
"What?" I shouted.
"She cut herself—"
"Holy fuck. How hard is it to keep two women safe inside a house?"
"I’m sorry, Rye. Keane." He looked from him to me. "Truly. But we need to find her. She cut herself peeling a potato and, when Olivia went to get some salve for it, she ducked out the back door. I checked your place, and she’s not there, either."
A cold sweat washed over me, and Rye continued to swear.
Cross nodded toward our prisoner. "Something strange going on around here, huh?"
"Yes." I turned my horse and galloped back toward the stables. We had to find Lily.
The others caught up to me. Rye was unconcerned with whether or not Timothy Wentworth had a smooth ride. I’d have preferred to drag him behind the horse, but we might need him for some answers when he finally came to. Fucker.
I fought against panic. I was a trained soldier. Battle tested. And I’d never been so scared in my whole life.