Chapter Nineteen
Belle
Dave and his friends set up camp less than a mile outside of Burning Scrub.
They wanted to be easy to find. Adam’s job as deputy was to convince Sheriff Earp to wait until morning to launch a rescue party for Belle, but they’d all seen how well the sheriff took unsolicited advice, and Dave worried he’d wander around the mountain after dark and get lost.
The tepees were a nice touch, even if they were a prairie dwelling, and traditionally, raiding parties hadn’t used them.
Also, women had owned them, and the responsibility for construction and maintenance was theirs.
Since Dave and his friends weren’t Sioux, and neither were their wives, accuracy was off the table already and they’d bought the tepees online.
They played cards all afternoon to pass the time, but Belle’s head was too busy coming up with all the things she should have said to Adam for her to pay much attention.
By suppertime she was down fifty imaginary dollars, and pulsing rage had overtaken her shock.
Her family was filled with grifters and cultists and liars.
Where did that leave her? How did she fit into that picture?
“Laura packed us a picnic,” Dave said. Laura was his wife. “Try a buffalo meat sandwich.” He offered Belle a small packet wrapped in waxed paper. “Really, it’s ham and Swiss cheese with Dijon mustard on rye.”
Belle thanked him, even though she wasn’t interested in food. She unwrapped it and chewed the hell out of a bite. She needed to smash something. She needed to get good and drunk.
But most of all, she needed to shake up Benny’s stupid script some more, because becoming a harlot hadn’t caused nearly sensation enough.
After she did that, she was going to confront Mavis and get some answers.
Was Adam the reason Nigel Forsythe had refused all contact with her?
Had Nigel known he wasn’t her birth father?
Or had he been as blindsided as she was by the news?
Either way, she was done. Beau had asked her to run off with him, and she was going to do it.
She’d disavow any connection to Burning Scrub if anyone dug it up.
She couldn’t choose her family, but she got to decide on the role they played in her life.
Adam wanted to play the part of her father?
It took more than sperm donorship for that.
Speaking of roles…
She folded the wrapper around her half-eaten sandwich and set it aside. “I’m heading back to town. Thank you for a nice afternoon,” she added, because her family problems weren’t her kidnappers’ fault and there was no need to be rude.
But Dave was equally intent on playing his part. “You can’t leave,” he said. “You’re supposed to stay here until the sheriff rescues you.” A muscle skewed his left eyelid, giving him a panicked expression. “I don’t want to tie you up. Please don’t make me.”
He’d never do it. His wife would have plenty to say if he tried.
“It’s not your fault,” Belle said. “I’m going to make a daring escape. Besides.” She dusted crumbs off her fingers, then smiled in a way that made his eyes widen. “The sheriff’s about to have his hands full.”
Dave knew when he was beaten. He raised his arm and beckoned Bob over.
“Follow her to make sure she gets home okay,” he said.
*
Beau
The day had arrived. Beau was about to shoot Jayce, and he couldn’t wait.
The two men sat across from each other at a front table in the saloon. Shanda, the dealer, inserted herself between them. Her low-cut dress was a wee bit more decent than the stockings and whip she’d worn for slapping Adam’s ass red, but barely.
Jayce looked even prettier than usual in his gentleman gambler’s dandy black suit and boots. A ruffled white shirt brought out the blue of his eyes. A brocaded vest covered the squib—a miniature explosive device—that would ooze fake blood when Beau fired the gun.
By local standards the saloon was packed.
Huck Hanson and Sheriff Earp shared a table with Benny, Adam, and Mavis.
Huck had seen his son get shot before, but he said it never grew old and wanted in on the fun.
The sheriff had been alerted that trouble was brewing.
Benny, Adam, and Mavis were on-site to remind the sheriff to keep his enthusiasm for his role to an agreed-upon level. The town had children to think of.
Tilly worked the floor, drifting from table to table, sitting on a few laps and generally making things awkward for men who had to greet her in church.
Beau’s gun was strapped to the underside of the table. The plan was for them to play a few hands of cards, with Shanda making sure that Jayce won. The signal for the bartender to detonate the squib taped under Jayce’s vest was Beau shoving his chair away from the table and shouting, “You cheat!”
Shanda picked up the deck of cards and shuffled them with such expertise that Beau couldn’t fathom how she kept track. “Are we ready, gentlemen?” she asked sweetly.
Yes. He was so ready for this.
Belle burst through the saloon’s doors before the first cards could be dealt.
Beau recognized immediately the mood she was in. He couldn’t figure out what had brought on the change. When he’d left her last night, she’d been fine. The kidnapping was the only thing she’d had scheduled today, and Dave, a good guy as far as horse rustlers went, would have made sure she had fun.
Then Beau looked around the room, and he caught Adam’s face. The expression he wore as he stared at Belle spoke of longing and guilt and carried a disquieting measure of fear.
Holy hell.
Adam had finally broken the news to her.
No need to ask how well it went over.
The rest of the room was too stunned by her sudden appearance to comprehend that they were in danger. While Beau would normally be the first to cheer her on when she was angry, why punish the whole town because Adam had botched his delivery?
He kind of liked Burning Scrub. Sheriff Earp had paid a million dollars for an authentic adventure, and Beau would hate to see them have to repay it. Benny put a lot of stock in those pieces of paper he made people sign and he had a weird sense of honor.
So, Beau grabbed the gun from under the table, kicked his chair out of the way, jumped to his feet, and shouted, “You cheat!”
Then, he shot Jayce point blank. His ears popped from the percussion. He didn’t remember it creating this much noise when he and Belle had gone plinking.
Attention shifted away from Belle, still framed in the doorway. Jayce remembered his role and fell to the floor, clutching his chest, although the bartender had to scrabble around for a few seconds to trip the detonator behind the bar. Blood seeped from between Jayce’s fingers.
Belle’s head whipped toward them, her gaze hot and hard. She stalked toward Beau, and he knew a moment of fear. She wasn’t going to make him strip naked at gunpoint in front of the whole room, was she? Because right now he wouldn’t put anything past her.
No one moved. No one dared breathe. They’d finally caught on that they’d never met this Belle before, and this Belle was one not to be messed with.
She stopped so close to Beau that they were a hair’s breadth away from full frontal contact.
Grady had once warned him that if he ever came face-to-face with a grizzly, his best bet for survival was to avoid eye contact and not make any sudden movements, but above all, to stand his ground.
Running triggered a predator’s instinct to chase. That same advice applied here.
She snatched the gun from his hand, spun on her heel, and wove a path between the tables. She stopped in front of Adam, who looked as scared as Beau had ever seen him. She leveled the gun at him and fired.
The gun was a prop, and Adam wasn’t wearing a squib, but to give him full credit, he rose to the occasion, nonetheless.
He hit the floor and rolled onto his stomach so that the lack of blood and a bullet hole would be less apparent.
However, Beau felt his acting skills—Jayce’s, too—were sadly lacking.
Where was the drama? Where was that moment where realization entered his eyes that he wasn’t long for this world?
Amateurs. The pair of them. They knew nothing about satisfying an audience.
Belle had a much better flair for it. When she went off script, she went all in.
“That,” she said coldly, standing over Adam’s body, “was for my father.” She searched for Beau. “You.” She pointed her weapon at him, then gestured toward the door. “You’re coming with me.”
Beau wasn’t about to argue with an armed and angry woman. Not when he knew how this one liked to work off a bad mood. He edged for the door, remembering not to make any sudden movements. She followed, covering their escape.
They almost made it.
Except Sheriff Earp didn’t know how far out of character Belle had strayed and hadn’t forgotten his role.
He jerked his gun from its holster and fired a single shot into the ceiling.
The thud, the flying splinters, and a thick billow of smoke from the gun’s barrel said some idiot had armed him with the real deal.
“Hold it right there, you two,” Sheriff Earp said. “You’re both under arrest.”
*
Beau
Beau got to share his jail cell with Belle this time.
They sat side by side on the cot. It was too bad they weren’t alone because her temper hadn’t yet cooled, but since their respective fates were now under discussion, he should probably be paying attention to that.
Benny had his knickers in a tight knot.
“You can’t hang Belle,” he said to the sheriff. “She’s a woman.”
“They hanged a woman in California,” Belle interrupted, earning a glare from the old man.
The sheriff ignored Belle’s helpful tip. “I’m not going to hang her. It was a crime of passion. She was defending her father. Women can’t help themselves when their emotions run high.”