Chapter Three

 

MONTANA’S REACTION WAS as instinctive as the rush of hornets at an invasion of their nest. A couple of splashing jumps carried him to the bank, among the cover of willows and a low-hanging evergreen. By then the receding echoes of the gunshot had been lost among the distant turns of the canyon, and the beat of his pulse was returning to normal. His face showed only a faint flush as he looked around. That had been uncomfortably close, but with everything considered, he could hardly ask for better.

“Are you hurt?” Melissa demanded. “What—who would be shooting at you?”

“Nothing to worry about, now,” Abbott said reassuringly. “It’s getting dark too fast for another try, and I don’t intend to give him the chance, anyway.” His lightness of tone belied his surprise, a deep sense of disgruntlement. He’d worked to make sure that Lefty Hoag had no more ammunition, but somehow the gunman had fooled him. Like a rattler, the tail remained alive.

“But who would be shooting at us—at you?” Melissa repeated. “Why?”

“Just spite, where I’m concerned,” Montana explained. “When Governor Ashley and his party came along, I happened to come upon a man watching from an ambush above the road, hoping to kill the Governor, as he admitted. I dehorned him, as I thought, by taking all his shells. My mistake was allowing him to keep his rifle. He must have had a stray cartridge in some pocket or other, so he was getting back at me for spoiling his party.”

She questioned him for more detail, looking around with increasing apprehension. She had set out by herself to overtake the others, much as she might have done in the settled country where she had been raised, making light of possible danger, not believing there could be much risk.

Montana could hardly blame her. More than once he had behaved in similar fashion, and he admired her resolution. In this country, chance-taking was a way of life. The risk of confronting danger head-on was at least no greater than running from it.

It was too dark by now for another attempt, even if the gunman had another cartridge, which was unlikely. With a repeating rifle he would have followed with an instant second shot. They moved faster into the settling night, the horses seemingly equally anxious to get well away from that place.

Resignedly, Montana accepted the loss of his hat. There had been no chance to retrieve it, but that had been an almost new head-piece, one of a long series which had suffered mishaps. His luck with hats seemed uniformly bad.

On the other hand, some might count it good.

The crown of a hat made a deceptive target. He would be willing to keep on settling for a hat instead of his head.

“Don’t you think you could ride, now?” Melissa asked. “My horse has had some rest, and you must be at least as tired.”

To please her, he mounted again, enabling them to ride side by side. Understanding how shaken she must be by her experiences, he kept up a flow of conversation. Shut in by the darkness, so that they seemed alone in a narrowing world, it became a companionable ride. Gradually he drew from her something of her background, her interests and aspirations.

The war, and its torrent of work, had drawn her father to the nation’s capital, a tumultuous and overcrowded city. Subjected as it had been to recurrent threats and perils, her natural self-reliance had been increased.

Some semblance of its former social life had returned with the war’s end. Though she did not say so, Abbott gathered that her beauty and family position had made her one of the leaders, affording her a wide acquaintance with people of importance, including such congressmen as Ashley.

When he had received the appointment as Governor and set out for a distant territory, it was natural enough that some of his friends should have come along. Ostensibly, their purpose was to lend him moral support in a capital where the opposition was strongly in control. It would also appeal to them as something of a lark, with a chance to discover what the border country was like.

The lady who had ridden beside the Governor was Serene Chase, a close friend of Melissa. These newcomers had yet to learn that many of the tales they had heard were real rather than fanciful, or how the miles might stretch by comparison to an equal number along roads in settled country.

“Won’t they be wondering about you, and becoming badly worried?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” Melissa denied. “I acted on impulse, setting out as I did, to join and surprise them. I see now how foolish it was. But no one would have missed me—if you hadn’t come along.”

Stars showed high above the canyon, widening now, its walls receding. The moon rolled into sight. They left the creek behind, and the road climbed from the valley, up increasing hills. Finally, a few miles beyond their place of meeting, lights glittered in the distance, giving the impression of low-lying stars. They seemed almost at hand, but Abbott knew that miles remained between.

“We’ll likely find your party in town,” Montana explained. “No doubt being entertained by some of the leading citizens from Helena.”

“My impression was that most of the citizens, leading or otherwise, are Democrats,” she returned doubtfully.

“Most of them are. And when it comes to the legislature, or anything that Mr. Ashley tries to do politically, they’ll fight him tooth and nail; but socially they’ll welcome him like a long-lost brother. Especially some of the new gold millionaires, some of whose wives, not so long ago, had to take in washing to support the family while their husbands prowled the hills on prospecting jaunts.”

Melissa nodded. Both points of view were familiar. The war had been a vast juggler of wealth and class.

“And you, Montana? Are you going this way purely on my account? I’m thankful for your company, but I fear I’ve already caused you more than enough trouble.”

“I was more or less heading in the same direction,” he admitted. “To Helena and across the divide by Captain Mullan’s Pass, then more or less southerly to my ranch. In any case, I’m in no particular hurry, and it’s a privilege to travel with you.”

She detected an underlying current in his voice which belied his lightness of tone. Quickly she shifted the subject.

“I understand that elections are being held, or soon will be, for a new legislature. Am I right in supposing that so prominent a citizen as yourself may therefore be expected among them?”

“You turn a pretty compliment,” he returned. “But while I can see that the session might hold unexpected attractions, I’m afraid not. I’ve never taken any interest in politics, nor have politicians been interested in me. And I’m afraid that it’s being unduly optimistic on the part of the Governor if he hopes to get on with the business of the Territory—at least with the help of the legislature.”

“That’s exactly what he was remarking that he hoped would be possible. He said that with the death of Secretary Meagher and the return East of Governor Smith, there’s been a period of virtual stagnation, so that a lot is badly in need of attention.”

“I wouldn’t doubt that,” Abbott concurred. “But the legislature is bound to be overwhelmingly Democratic, and I’m afraid that the needs of the Territory will be secondary to a lot of them. Opposition to a Republican Governor will come first.”

“But why? I know that partisanship plays a big part, of course—but patriotic men of both parties should, and often do, work together for the common good.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that happening here. As I understand it, Governor Ashley’s crowning achievement in Congress, at least in his view, was his work in connection with the thirteenth amendment to the Constitution, to abolish slavery in the United States. I fought on the side of the Confederacy, but I think he was right—which is purely a personal opinion. An overly large proportion of our citizens out here are from the South: Democrats who flocked here before and during the war years. A lot of them, I’m sorry to say, lacked the courage of their convictions—or other types of courage—” he shrugged expressively. “—while the struggle continued. But since then, some of that ilk are loudly and increasingly vociferous. They see what carpetbaggers are doing to their homeland, and resent it. They blame President Johnson and the Republican Congress for such injustices, and while that in a measure is also unjust, with the Congress and the President bitterly antagonistic to one another, still we have cause and effect. Governor Ashley has landed squarely in the middle of a situation which is as impossible as the one the President finds himself—”

“But if you were to become a member of the legislature, understanding the situation as you do, and with your influence, you could be a real help.”

Montana shook his head.

“My only chance at election would be as a Democrat—and I suppose I am one. I’d belong to the opposition. If I fought against my own side, they’d crucify me—and to no one’s benefit.”

 

His prediction that some of the leaders of Helena society would have come a day’s journey to welcome the new governor was verified. A long dinner hour was just drawing to a close when they finally reached the town. Governor Ashley, with others, was just coming out into the night as they dismounted wearily. In the full light of the moon, Ashley stared; then, exclaiming incredulously, hurried forward.

“Mrs. Edwards—Melissa! What on earth—”

Explanations were given, as others gathered, and Montana was introduced. His welcome was cordial, as they understood that he had helped her; though at the moment nothing was said of the attempt upon his life or the one which had been aimed against Ashley. Abbott had heard that the new governor had a wide streak of stubbornness, but he showed humor as well.

“I’m indebted to you for what you’ve done, Mr. Abbott—we all are. And it’s a pleasure to meet you, Montana. Back East I’m known, for whatever it may be worth, as the Father of Montana. But you are Montana—and what more is there to say?”

“Montana happens to be my name, so it afforded a ready nick-name. Meeting you is a shared pleasure, Governor.”

He accompanied them the next morning, part of a considerable welcoming deputation to the flamboyant camp which suddenly considered itself a city and was actively pulling every available string to become the territorial capital. Under such auspices the ride was pleasant, the more so in that Melissa Edwards chose to ride another but fresh horse, alongside. That she would be a social leader during the coming legislative session was a foregone conclusion, but that she returned his liking she made no attempt to hide.

Having let it be known that he intended to keep on toward the ranch the next morning, he was not much surprised when Ashley sought him out.

“Mrs. Edwards has told me of what you did, Montana—saving not only her from a situation which I hate even to think about, but very likely my life as well, at considerable risk to your own. I can only repeat my thanks and appreciation.”

“I’ve already been better rewarded that I could have expected.”

“You mean with Melissa’s friendship? I have to agree with you. I’m hoping—all circumstances considered—that we may see you over at Virginia City?”

“It’s possible,” Montana admitted, and for once was unsure of himself or what he wanted to do. Melissa’s liking probably sprang from the service he had been able to render, which was something to keep in mind.

As for his own feelings—

“I’ve been in and out of love half a dozen times,” he reflected. “Which could make me as unstable as a butterfly.” That he had found certain women attractive was sure. One or two of them he might have married, had circumstances developed favorably. And never had he been more attracted to a woman than now—

It might be a good reason for settling down at his ranch and foregoing day-dreams which probably could never be more than that. Coming west under such circumstances and auspices was an exciting adventure for her, but the life she had known was a far cry from this interlude, still more so from what life would be on a ranch—

His notions were shaken, half-formed resolutions all but unhinged, when, bidding him goodbye the next morning, in front of Governor Ashley and half a hundred others, she suddenly grasped his saddle-horn with one hand, set a dainty foot beside him in a stirrup, and swinging up to kiss him, flushed rosily before dropping back, with eyes sparkling from more than mischief.

“That’s for saving me—and perhaps my life,” she said breathlessly. “Goodbye—for now!”