Chapter 24
The main street of Walnut Springs stretched quiet in the early afternoon sunlight, a stark contrast to the chaos that still churned in Thomas’s chest.
He shouldn’t have mentioned California.
The moment the word had left his mouth, Kate stiffened beside him. The warmth had drained from her body like water through a cracked vessel. And now she wouldn’t look at him, just kept her eyes fixed forward as though she wasn’t even interested in the town.
But he couldn’t keep pretending his plans had changed when they hadn’t.
Had they?
He shoved the thought aside as he guided the wagon to a stop in front of Holbrook’s Mercantile. The familiar storefront with its weathered sign and frost-rimed windows should have felt ordinary. Safe.
Nothing felt safe anymore. Too much turmoil churned inside him.
He set the brake and jumped down, his boots crunching on the churned snow. When he turned to help Kate, she was already gathering her skirts, her expression locked away like she did when she was upset but refused to show it.
“Allow me.” He reached up and locked his hands around her waist through the layers of wool.
She hesitated for just a heartbeat before placing her hands on his shoulders. When he lifted her down, she weighed almost nothing.
Her feet touched the ground, but he didn’t immediately release her. Couldn’t quite bring himself to let go.
“The doctor’s office is that way.” He tilted his head toward the end of the street. “Dr. Morrison should have Clara’s medicine ready. He knew we’d be coming sometime this week. I’ll load the supplies from Holbrook’s and meet you back here.”
Kate’s eyes searched his face, and something flicked there—disappointment, maybe, or resignation.
She stepped back, pulling out of his hold. “I won’t be long.”
She walked away, spine straight, shoulders squared against whatever the world might throw at her. Even upset with him, she moved like a woman who wouldn’t be defeated.
You’re going to lose her.
The thought struck like a fist to the gut. If he pushed to go west, would Kate refuse to accompany him?
California had felt like the answer. A fresh start. A place where nobody knew about the title he hadn’t earned, the man who’d died because of his mistake.
But standing here on this frigid street, watching Kate’s figure grow smaller down the boardwalk, certainty felt like a stranger.
He shook himself and turned to the mercantile. Supplies first. He could figure out his future later. If he changed his mind about California, they could use everything he purchased on the ranch. But at least he’d have things ready.
The bell over the door jangled as he stepped inside. Holbrook’s smelled the same as always—a mixture of leather, coffee, pickles, and the mustiness of dry goods stored too long. Mrs. Holbrook stood behind the counter, deep in conversation with a woman he’d not seen before.
“—sheriff won’t be back until Thursday at the earliest,” the woman was saying. “My husband saw him off himself. Some business with the territorial marshal’s office in Butte, apparently.”
Mrs. Holbrook clucked her tongue. “Well, let’s hope nothing exciting happens before then.”
Thomas tipped his hat to them and headed for the aisle on the back wall that held building supplies. He needed more nails in case he couldn’t find access to them where he settled. A chisel too, and an extra ax head. And more lamp oil and wicks.
The familiar act of scanning shelves and making mental lists settled his racing thoughts. Practical tasks with clear solutions.
As he examined a selection of rope, the door jangled again. That shouldn’t be Kate so soon, but he kept an ear tuned to the sounds, just in case.
The footsteps sounded heavy. More than one person. And men, most likely.
“Mrs. Holbrook?” Definitely a man—his voice rough, with an accent Thomas couldn’t quite place. “We need to send a telegram.”
Something about that voice…
“Of course.” Mrs. Holbrook’s lighter tones carried easily through the store. “Just come down to this counter and write out your message.”
Thomas moved deeper into the aisle, positioning himself behind a shelf of canned goods. Through the gaps between tins of peaches and jars of preserves, he could see the counter. Mrs. Holbrook had emerged from the back room, and two men stood before her.
His blood went cold.
Those men.
The one on the left was Jake—the same Jake whose fist left the bruise that had only just faded from Thomas’s cheekbone. The man who’d been holding that girl in the Butte saloon, whose friends had tried to beat Thomas into the sawdust floor.
The other man…what was his name? He’d been in the fight too. The one whose nose Thomas had broken with his elbow.
What were they doing here? In Walnut Springs?
“We ain’t good with letters.” Jake’s voice grated like gravel. “You’ll have to write it for us.”
“That’s no trouble at all.” Mrs. Holbrook pulled out a slip of paper and a pencil. “Where would you like to send it?”
“England. A place called Cumberland.”
Thomas’s hand tightened on the rope he still held.
“To Viscount Balfour,” the second man added.
The world narrowed to a single point.
Cumberland. And Viscount Balfour…
That was his own title since his knighting. But these men couldn’t be sending a telegram to him. He hadn’t lived in England since he was two years old.
Which meant they were contacting someone else who used that title.
Reginald.
His father’s cousin. The man who had tried to have Will kidnapped when they were children. The reason their mother had brought them to Montana in the first place—to escape his schemes.
“And what message would you like to send?” Mrs. Holbrook’s voice kept its pleasant tone.
Did she think the direction odd at all? She had to. The Holbrooks had lived in Walnut Springs from before his family arrived. She handled the occasional telegram they sent to their father for urgent business that couldn’t wait for a letter. She would recognize Cumberland.
Jake leaned against the counter. “Tell him we found our assignment right where he said it’d be. And tell him…”
The man paused, and Thomas pressed himself closer to the shelf, barely daring to breathe.
“Tell him we’ll finish the job within the day.”
Finish the job.
The words echoed in his head like gunshots.
These weren’t random troublemakers. These weren’t men who’d happened to be in Butte when Thomas walked into that saloon. They were assassins—hired by his father’s cousin to eliminate the Balfour heirs once and for all.
And they planned to do it today.
His mind raced. How had Reginald found them? They’d been so careful all these years, living quietly, avoiding attention. Had someone from the hunting party talked? Had the knighting ceremony drawn notice none of them anticipated?
It didn’t matter how. What mattered was that these men knew where the ranch was. Knew his brothers were there. And they were planning to attack.
Within the day.
He had to get home. Had to warn Enoch and James and Robert.
But first, he had to get out of this store without being seen.
He eased backward, keeping his movements slow and silent. The shelf of canned goods provided cover as he worked his way toward the front of the store.
Each step felt like an eternity. His pulse pounded in his ears, and every creak of the floorboards tightened his insides more.
Mrs. Holbrook was talking now, giving the fee and commenting on how long it took to send messages all the way to England.
He reached the door and kept his back to them as he eased the handle sideways. It took everything in him not to jump when the bell overhead sounded. Instead, he strode out and closed it behind him as if he didn’t care a whit.
Kate. He had to find Kate.
He scanned the street, his heart hammering against his ribs. There—halfway down the boardwalk, just emerging from Dr. Morrison’s office.
Relief flooded through him.
He strode toward her, forcing himself not to run. Running would draw attention. Running would make those men in the mercantile look out the window and see him. See her.
Kate’s expression shifted when she spotted him—confusion replacing whatever emotion had been there before. He must look half-wild.
“Thomas? What’s wrong?”
“We need to leave. Now.” He took her elbow, pulling her back toward the wagon.
“Wait.” Kate tugged away from him. “The doctor wasn’t there. He left a note saying he’d gone to deliver a baby. He’ll be back later today. We have to wait for Clara’s medicine.”
His jaw clenched. Every second they stood here was another second those men could finish their business and walk out of the mercantile. Another second they risked being seen.
“We can’t wait.” He kept his voice low. “Kate, please. Trust me. We have to go.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What happened in there?”
“I’ll explain on the way. But we need to—”
The mercantile door opened.
He grabbed Kate’s arm and turned them both away from the store. His mind raced through options—could they make it to the wagon before the men noticed them? Should they duck into the alley between buildings?
“—appreciate your help, ma’am.” Jake’s voice carried down the boardwalk.
Thomas kept his face turned away, using his body to shield Kate as he guided her toward the wagon with deliberate casualness.
Don’t run. Don’t look back. Act like nothing’s wrong.
“Thomas, you’re hurting me.” Kate’s whisper held an edge of alarm.
He loosened his grip but didn’t let go. “I’m sorry. Please just keep walking.”
Behind them, boots thudded on the boardwalk. Moving in the opposite direction, thank God. Toward the saloon, if he had to guess. These men would likely want a drink before they rode out to murder his family.
At last, he and Kate reached the wagon, and he dared a glance over his shoulder.
The two men were disappearing through the saloon door two buildings down.
He exhaled and turned to face Kate as he released her.
Her eyes flashed, and she crossed her arms like a barricade. “Will you please tell me what’s happening?”
He swallowed. “Those men from Butte. The ones I fought in the saloon. They’re here.”
“What?” Kate twisted to look in the direction he had. “Are you certain?”
“They were in the mercantile. Sending a telegram.”
Her gaze shot back to his face. “A telegram? To who?”
His throat tightened. “To my father’s cousin. In England.”
Her eyes widened. “Are they?”
He nodded, pressing his lips in a grim line. “Yep. The message they sent said they’re planning to attack the ranch. Today.”
Her face went pale. “Today? But your brothers—”
“Are completely unaware.” He turned to the wagon again. “I have to warn them.”
“Wait. Clara’s medicine.” Kate’s voice rose.
“I know.” He motioned for her to climb up. “I know, Kate. But if we wait here, if they make it to the ranch before we do, Clara won’t need medicine. None of us will need anything.”
The brutal truth of it hung between them.
Kate’s jaw worked, and a war played out in those pretty hazel eyes. Her sister’s needs against the lives of everyone at the ranch. The practical necessity of medicine against the immediate threat of violence.
Finally she said, “Can’t I wait here? Just a few hours. The doctor should return soon, and then I can rent a horse from the livery. I’ll ride back as soon as I can.”
Every instinct screamed at him to refuse. To throw her bodily into this wagon if necessary and get her away from this town before those men emerged from the saloon.
But the set of her jaw said she wouldn’t be moved easily. And wasting time arguing when his entire family was in danger—
“Fine.” The word tasted bitter. “But wait at the cafe. Out of sight. Don’t go near that saloon. Don’t let those men see you.”
“I won’t.”
“And the moment—the very moment—the doctor returns, you get that medicine and ride for the ranch. Don’t wait.”
“I understand.”
He grabbed her shoulders, perhaps too hard, but he couldn’t help himself. “Kate, I mean it. These men are dangerous. If they see you—if they realize you’re connected to us—”
“I’ll be careful.” She placed her hands over his, her touch steadying despite the fear flicking in her eyes. “Go. Your brothers need you.”
Everything in him rebelled against leaving her here. Alone. With hired killers drinking two doors down.
But his brothers were at the ranch, completely unaware of the threat riding toward them. Enoch and James, working in the barn or out feeding stock. Robert with Clara, probably reading to her from one of his books. Mrs. Wang in the kitchen. Rose and Mandie with the baby.
All of them defenseless because they didn’t know to be on guard.
He pulled Kate close, crushing her against his chest. He kept her there only a heartbeat, but he tried to pour everything he couldn’t say into it…
Stay safe. Come back to me. I can’t lose you too.
Then he released her and climbed up to the wagon seat.
“Thomas.” Her voice stopped him as he reached for the reins.
He looked down at her.
“Be careful.” The words came soft, but the weight behind them, the look in her eyes, pressed against his chest.
He nodded once. Then he released the brake and snapped the reins.