Melly, Unyielding (Lockets And Lace Book 4) Read online

  She gave a slight shake of her head, pressing her lips together. “I have no money,” she said softly.

  “I have some, at least enough for supper and a room for a night.”

  She shook her head again, reluctant to go inside.

  “Well, we’ll have to camp outside of town since the trading post is closed.”

  Her saddle creaked as she leaned toward him. “And then what?”

  “I’d come back tomorrow.”

  She sat up straighter and took a better look at the hotel and then glanced at Uncle Dob. “And leave me alone while you come to town? Please, don’t.” She hated her pleading tone.

  His eyebrows came down in a frown. “I didn’t say I’d leave you.”

  “But I can’t keep riding around town. Someone may spot me,” she whispered and lowered her head. She was being unreasonable. How else was he to sell the pelts? Either she’d have to go with him or wait for him. A throbbing began at her temples.

  His hand touched her arm, and he spoke when she glanced through her lashes at him. “Let’s hitch the horses here. We can go into the hotel and talk.” He gave her a reassuring smile and nodded toward the building.”

  Although fear pounded in her chest, she dismounted. They tied their horses, and he grabbed his rifle and took her elbow. But he did not guide her to the front door. Instead, they went to the alley next to the hotel. She shrank into herself, anxiety threatening to spill out. Sunny pressed close, as if sensing her anxiety.

  After Uncle Dob glanced around, he spoke. “Maybe you’re right to be careful.”

  She nodded. “Boyd ... or Oba might be here,” she said quietly.

  “I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep, but I’m pretty handy with a rifle.” He swung it upward.

  With his rifle, he looked like he could take care of himself, and her fear abated some, although her chin quivered to her dismay.

  He studied her for a minute. “I could go rent a room while you wait here. See those stairs? You can get to the room from here, and no one will see you.” He smiled. “Heck, we could smuggle Sunny in that way, too.”

  Someone might have already seen her, but she didn’t say the words aloud. Fear gripped her as her gaze traveled the open stairs. “I don’t want to be alone.”

  “Here? In the alley? It’ll only be a moment. I’ll get back as quick as I can, and Sunny will stay here and take care of you.”

  “No. I mean in the room.” Fifteen years with Oba as her only companion had taken a toll on her. Her heart beat in her ears, and she clutched the sleeve of his coat. “No, Uncle Dob. I’m going with you, wherever you go.” She choked back a sob.

  He was quiet for a long moment. “We’ve got a dilemma here, Melly.”

  “What?”

  “We both agreed someone might recognize you.”

  She nodded, and her shoulders drooped. A stray tear rolled down her cheek, and she angrily brushed it away.

  He took her by the shoulders. “Wait here, and I’ll get you up to your room. Don’t you worry none. I’ll be as quick as greased lightning.”

  She drew in a deep breath and opened her lips to let it escape slowly and then nodded.

  He released her. “I’ll be right back. I promise.” He pointed to the dog. “Sunny, stay.” And then he hurried away.

  She slunk deeper into the shadows of the alley, with Sunny, and pulled her hat down over her ears. She fingered the lace in her pocket as she waited for Uncle Dob to return. Sunny’s presence brought her a measure of comfort.

  She startled when a deep voice spoke. It took a moment for her pounding heart to settle. It was Uncle Dob. As quick as greased lightning as he promised.

  He held her carpetbag and still had his rifle. He swung it to indicate the stairs. “Go up that way.”

  She nodded, straightened, and walked up the stairs in front of him, determined to release the fear. As she took each step, her gaze swept the area. No one else was in the alley.

  When Melly entered the door, the smell of urine and other odors she didn’t care to identify assaulted her from the hallway.

  Uncle Dob pointed to a nearby room with the end of the rifle. “We’re here at the end, convenient if we run into any trouble.”

  She scooted quickly through the door, and Uncle Dob and Sunny slipped in after her. The room was decked out in a garish pink and red bedspread, rose-patterned wallpaper, and velvet red curtains.

  Uncle Dob set the carpetbag onto the gold-fringed chair in the corner and propped the rifle against the wall.

  She sat on the edge of the bed and relaxed a bit, now that four walls surrounded her. Heat climbed to her cheeks at the way she’d acted. “I’ll be fine here. You don’t need to leave your pelts out there on the mule. And, besides, you need to stable the horses.”

  “I’ll bring the pelts up in a minute. Too bad the store is closed.” He went to the window and peered out and then turned to her. “I did find out why so many folks are in town.”

  “Why?”

  “They’re part of a logging operation.”

  Her eyes widened. “You mean they’re going into our forest to cut down trees?”

  He smiled. “Our forest?”

  She chuckled sadly. “It feels like it is.”

  His brown eyes studied her. “How much in this world is truly ours?”

  “Not much, I guess.” Sunny came to lay a head on her knee.

  “If you can manage on your own, I’ll go down and get the pelts.”

  “I’ll be fine.” And she did feel calmer.

  He still hesitated, and then spoke to the dog. “You keep quiet, or you’ll get us kicked out of here.” The dog thumped his tail on the floor in answer.

  He left, and she whispered under her breath. “Please hurry back.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Thatcher estimated distances with accuracy. He’d been doing this so long, it was second nature.

  When he’d ridden a couple of miles in the direction Mr. Muller had pointed him, he slowed Johnny Bell to a walk. A lookout would be posted, maybe more than one. He was going straight to his death, but there was no need to be a fool about it.

  He started up the slope of a hill. It wasn’t a large hill and the slope was gentle, but rocks and stones littered the ground.

  Johnny Bell sensed the danger and picked his way carefully up the slope. Some of the rocks were boulders, big enough for a man to hide behind, and Thatcher sat straight in the saddle, sometimes rising to glance around but saw nothing.

  After half a mile, Thatcher dismounted. Nothing about the hill suggested it hid a gang of outlaws.

  As always, Boyd and his men had been careful, covering their tracks, but here and there, Thatcher noted a hoofprint. He was sure this was the direction the men had headed.

  More than once the thought entered his mind that Muller had set him up, and he was walking into a trap. So be it. He was tired of trailing Boyd, tired of living without Mel – No, he meant Isabella. Why had he thought Melly? He shook his head to clear it.

  Hadn’t his thoughts led him off the trail before, when he’d entered the forest? He’d followed Boyd without giving a thought to where he headed. This time he’d stay alert. He didn’t want to go astray again.

  He shook his head. He’d not gone astray. He’d been led straight to Melly, and he couldn’t regret that. Her warm lips on his in the cold rain, his promise to her —

  He broke off the thought. All that had to be forgotten. He had to forget her and find the hideout.

  He studied the land around him, noting the places someone might be hiding. Boulders littered the hill. He’d think only of that, for now, be watchful for an ambush.

  He led Johnny Bell up the gently sloping hill, stopping occasionally to study the area, to listen for any unusual sound.

  He saw and heard nothing. It was warmer today than yesterday, and he was glad of that, glad of a good breakfast, glad he’d slept in a bed last night. He’d go to his death well fed and rested. He smiled to himsel
f.

  Johnny Bell noticed before Thatcher. The horse’s ears flickered, and he balked. Instinct had Thatcher down before a coherent thought formed. He released the reins and crawled to one of the boulders.

  The sound he’d heard had been a soft cough and close by. It’d been barely discernible, and he had no idea of the direction it’d come from. Cautiously, he peered over the boulder. Nothing. He glanced up the hill, every nerve in his body on edge. Again, he saw nothing.

  He looked back at Johnny Bell who searched for something green to nibble on. It was slim pickings on the rocky slope, even if it had been spring instead of late fall.

  He silently climbed to his feet, crouched low and ran to another boulder. Breathing heavily, he waited for the shooting to begin, but all was silent. Slowly, he raised his head and searched the area again. This time, he saw him. Only the mere edge of an arm peeking from a tree.

  He sank back down and considered his options. The man obviously had not heard him. He’d continue toward him, hoping for the best. With any luck, he’d surprise the man.

  Thatcher scrambled to a low bush and waited until his breathing slowed. Only a few more yards, and he’d reach the tree. He might be able to make it in one more rush. Without further thought, he gained his feet and moved forward, as quickly and quietly as possible.

  He pulled his gun as he rounded the tree and came face to face with Obadiah. The man fumbled for his gun, but Thatcher had him by the scruff of his shirt, pushing him none to gently against the tree.

  The fight drained from Obadiah quickly. Thatcher released him, grabbed his gun and threw it down the hill.

  He grabbed him again, shoving him harder against the tree. “Keep your voice low. Who else is here?”

  Obadiah frowned at him. “Where’s Melly?”

  Thatcher slammed his head against the tree, and the man cried out. “What do you care, you worthless scumbag?”

  Obadiah pressed his lips together and looked away.

  Thatcher shook him again. “How many men?”

  “There’s just two of us, me and Boyd.”

  “Where’s the rest? Tell me before I blow your brains out.”

  “Boyd sent them on, those that ain’t dead.”

  Thatcher released him, and he slumped to the ground and rubbed the back of his head. Thatcher took a step back and quickly searched the area. It was empty, as far as he could tell. “Where’s Boyd?”

  Obadiah jerked a thumb toward the hill. “In there.”

  Puzzled, Thatcher searched for an opening but saw none. Muller had said it was hidden. “Start talking.”

  “’Bout what? Tell me where you took my Melly.”

  Anger washed over Thatcher until his hands shook. “Unless I’m missing something, I’m the one asking the questions.”

  “Kill me. I got nothing left.” He leaned forward, his forehead against his knees.

  Thatcher paced in a wide circle and stopped a few feet away. Was Obadiah playacting? Did he really care about Melly, after all he’d done to her?

  Thatcher holstered his gun and studied the poor excuse for a man in front of him. Maybe he did care. “We met up with a man she remembered from childhood, before you and Boyd destroyed her family.”

  Obadiah raised his head, but his eyes were dull. “Who?”

  “Samuel Dobson.” He watched carefully for a reaction, any indication Obadiah knew Sam.

  But Obadiah waved a hand, letting his forehead touch his knees again. “Never heard of him.”

  Thatcher let out a sigh of relief. Even though Melly verified Samuel was the man he claimed to be, Thatcher had worried he’d left her with a member of Boyd’s gang, or at least, an informant.

  “And Dobson is with her.” He paused, afraid he’d said too much. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “They were heading out to California.”

  Obadiah nodded, straightened, and leaned back against the tree.

  “I told you about Melly. Now, it’s your turn.”

  Obadiah coughed and spat out a stream of brown. “My turn for what? Anyways, you going to kill me whatever I do.” He clamped his lips together and narrowed his eyes.

  Calmly, Thatcher squatted in front of the man and rested one arm on a knee. “I saw the cabin cleaned out, the wagon partially burned. Care to explain that?”

  Obadiah gave a smirk. “Nope.”

  “I don’t plan to kill you, not unless I have to. I don’t reckon you’ll give me a need to?”

  “I don’t give a shoot. Let the vultures have me.”

  “Don’t much matter now, does it? If you’re ready to die, then tell me what happened.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to know all sides of the situation. Call me nosey.” Thatcher remained relaxed, with only an occasional glance around him.

  Obadiah remained quiet a long while. Finally, he shrugged. “Some of the fellows came to the cabin, while I was buying supplies.” He glanced at Thatcher. “I let Boyd know when you walked up that first day.” He smirked. “We got a way of sending messages, and he’d sent the men.” The old man fell quiet, stroking his beard and then shook his head. “Melly and that old worthless dog caused all this. I should’ve killed him instead of shooting over his head.”

  Thatcher remained silent and waited for him to continue.

  Obadiah spat another stream of tobacco. “You almost made me swallow my ’bacca, slamming my head like that.” He rubbed the back of his head again. “Anyways, I come back to find everything cleaned out, Melly gone, and some of the men had already taken off. There were a couple of fellows left behind.”

  “Yes, I found them in that hole in your shack.”

  The man’s eyes widened, narrowed, and then he looked in the distance, as if remembering. “I killed them when I seen Melly was gone. Them two were the worst of the bunch, always sniffing around Melly.” He shrugged. “So, I started out. Didn’t take long to catch up with them. But they didn’t have Melly.” He put a hand to his forehead and took a breath. “I weren’t no match for them. They would have killed me if’n Boyd hadn’t shown up.”

  “Why would they kill you?”

  “I may have said some things to rile them.”

  “And Boyd saved you. What hold you got over him?”

  Obadiah peered up at him with blurry eyes. “I been keeping something for him.”

  Thatcher picked up a stick and made swirls in the dirt. “You mean the diamonds?”

  Obadiah grinned and laughed. “Nope.”

  “What then?” Thatcher gazed at him steadily, but somehow knew what the man would say.

  “Melly.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Thatcher studied Obadiah silently for a moment, wrestling to get his feelings under control. It wouldn’t do to slam that head against the tree for a second time, not while anger surged through his veins. He need Obadiah alive, to get to Boyd.

  Obadiah raised his head in a jeer. “Since you know about the diamonds, ain’t nothing more to tell you.”

  “You can tell me where Boyd is.”

  Obadiah laughed and shrugged. “Find him yourself.”

  “Why did he send the men away?”

  “Why you think? Them damn diamonds. We were headed out to get them, and he didn’t want the men to know.” He sighed heavily. “I’m through answering your questions, cowboy. Shoot me and get this over with.”

  Thatcher sized up the man in front of him who wasn’t likely to give out more information. He climbed to his feet and jerked a thumb at him. “Get up.”

  Obadiah got up, unsteadily. Thatcher had slammed his head a little too hard, but he didn’t regret it, after all that old man had done to Melly. Thatcher grabbed his arm and led him to Johnny Bell. He quickly grabbed the rope he kept coiled around the pommel and tied Obadiah’s hands behind his back. He patted him down and found a knife in his boot. He added that to his saddlebag.

  Then he shoved the man back up the slope to the tree and brought Johnny Bell with him. He tied the horse to a tree limb an
d studied the man again, trying to discern how much the old man told him was true. Maybe Boyd had sent the other men away, for the reasons he said. Wouldn’t more men have been posted otherwise?

  Thatcher forced Obadiah back down, and he leaned against Johnny Bell, thinking. Why had Boyd saved the old man’s skin, anyway? Obadiah’s job had been to take care of Melly. Once he found out he’d lost her, wouldn’t Boyd have killed him?

  Thatcher knew Boyd, knew him like the back of his hand. Boyd wouldn’t hesitate to kill. He gave his loyalty to no man. But maybe he thought Obadiah could help him find Melly somehow. But why not use the resources of all the gang?

  Unless, as Obadiah said, many of the men wanted to claim Melly. Maybe Boyd planned to hunt down Melly and hide her away with Obadiah again. That made sense. He didn’t want anyone else to know where she was.

  Or maybe the old man was smarter than he seemed and hadn’t told Boyd where he’d hidden the diamonds. Once Boyd had them in his possession, he probably planned to kill Obadiah.

  Well, if the old man told the truth, the odds were evening out. He had him tied up and only Boyd was left to deal with.

  Boyd was a fast draw, a ruthless killer, but if he could get a drop on him, maybe Boyd wouldn’t have to die. He could bring him in, let the law handle it. That is, if he ever went to trial. More than likely a lynch mob would get him first.

  He pushed away from his horse, gripped Obadiah’s arm, and led him around the area. The trees were oaks, and he counted them. Four as Muller had said. The opening had to be around here somewhere. He moved to the outcropping of rock, hidden by the trees, and examined it from a few feet away. Nothing could be seen but a large bush. He approached it, gun drawn, when a voice sounded from above.

  “Drop it, Thatch. Now, ’fore I blow your brains out.”

  He glanced up. Boyd knelt on the top of the boulder pointing a rifle at his head.

  The man laughed as if enjoying himself. “We going to have us some fun.”