Her mind made up, Josie turned to go back to the livery—only to find a group of men blocking her way.
“Good morning, Mrs. Gresham,” Mr. Finnegan said.
Josie’s eyes darted from him to the men ringed behind him. There were four total, and one moved to stand beside Mr. Finnegan. He was tall, much taller than Finnegan, with hair the color of the hot sun sticking out from under his hat.
This didn’t seem the time for niceties, particularly given the way the men were blocking her path. “Mr. Finnegan,” she said crisply. “What do you want?”
The blond man raised his eyebrows. “You weren’t lying about this one,” he said to Mr. Finnegan.
“Pardon me?” Josie fixed him with a stare she hoped didn’t convey the terror that was rising inside her. What were they doing out here?
The blond man smiled—or tried to smile. It looked more like a snake unfurling itself across his face, and it took all Josie had not to shudder.
“Mrs. Gresham,” Mr. Finnegan said. “May I introduce you to my colleague, Mr. Roscoe Porter?”
“I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Mr. Porter said, “But I’m not entirely certain that would be true.”
His absolute rudeness was quite enough for Josie. “Goodbye, gentlemen.” She began to walk around them, but the men behind Porter and Finnegan fanned out, placing themselves in front of her. “Let me pass,” she said through gritted teeth. She clenched her hands, which had begun to grow damp with worry.
“Now,” Mr. Porter said, coming to join his men. “We weren’t yet finished conversing. What’s a girl like you doing out here, past town, all by your lonesome?”
The overly sweet quality of his voice barely hid a sinister undertone. Josie narrowed her eyes as her heart thumped. She ought to have brought a gun. She’d left so quickly last night, it hadn’t even occurred to her to bring a pistol. The knife she kept at her side was in reach, but could she hold off this many men with just a knife?
“She’s out looking for her beloved,” Mr. Finnegan said. “I hear-tell that Arlen Thomas up and left her last night, set out for parts unknown.”
“He did no such thing,” she spat at him.
Mr. Porter raised his hands. “Now, honey, don’t be upset with poor Finnegan here. It isn’t his fault your fiancé left. Why, I just saw him on his horse this morning, heading out of town.” He dropped his hands and took a step toward her. Josie tensed, itching to step back but refusing to let herself. She wouldn’t show fear to this man, not while she had a breath left to take.
“He isn’t my fiancé,” Josie said.
“I know it’s easier to pretend otherwise,” Mr. Porter said in a cloying voice. “But I’m here to help you.”
Josie set her hands on her hips. “I don’t need help. Especially from the likes of you.”
He gave her that greasy smile again. “Oh, but you do. You’re a woman alone, in need of a husband. And I’m in the market for a bride. I’m more than happy to enter into an arrangement that would benefit us both.”
Josie stared at him. The man couldn’t be serious, could he? She would nevermarryhim. “Absolutely not. And I’m finished with this conversation.” She dropped her hands and stepped to the side, ready to dart around Porter and his men.
But one of the men reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. Josie cried out in surprise as he wrenched her back to where she’d been.
“Now Cleary, don’t cause injury to my lovely bride-to-be.” Mr. Porter eyed her as if she were a roast for his dinner. He reached out and unsheathed the knife at her side, tossing it off into the grasses. “That isn’t something a lady like you needs. Now, just think, Mrs. Gresham, once we’re married, you and I can enjoy that ranch together.”
The ranch. Josie should have known. All he’d wanted was the land, and she was just a way to get to it. Shame filled her mind as she remembered thinking that Arlen had done the same. But he hadn’t, not at all. In fact, he’d done everything he could to help them keep the ranch.
Then why didn’t he come home last night?The voice in her head was like a persnickety ghost, arising unbidden at the worst possible time. The truth was, she didn’t know what he was about last night. But he hadn’t left town, despite what Mr. Porter said. She knew that for certain.
Or at least she hoped she did.
Josie yanked on her arm, trying to break free of Cleary’s strong grip. “Let me go.”
“Now, now, be still, honey,” Porter said, and Josie recoiled at the pet name. “Cleary and Finnegan and all my friends here are going to escort us to the preacher’s house. And then we’ll have us a wedding. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Josie yearned to slap him across the face, but the moment she raised her free hand, he caught it and held it in his grip.
“Let’s take a walk now, why don’t we?” he said as if nothing had just happened. And pulling her along, they headed back into town.
Josie had friends here, people who knew her, who would come to her rescue. She could scream as they passed the hotel or the post and telegraph office. But as they entered town, the men formed a knot around her, hiding her from view, and someone—Josie couldn’t tell who—pressed a pistol into her back.
