Page 2 of A Steadfast Heart (Wind River Mail-Order Brides #2)

Michael picked up my mail .

Kaitlyn Montgomery exited the St. Louis post office, her quick steps sending her skirt swirling around her ankles. Her pulse was buzzing in her ears, blocking out the sounds of carriage wheels clattering on cobblestones. Even though it was only March, the midafternoon sun hitting her tweed walking suit felt stifling. She wove between the people clogging the sidewalk, moving faster than might be considered socially acceptable.

She had to get home.

Her offer letter from the Piedmont School District, with its accompanying train ticket, was supposed to have arrived today. Accepting the role as teacher was supposed to be her way of escape.

How had Michael even known about the secret PO box?

No point in asking why the clerk had handed over her letters. Her brother could charm honey from bees without getting stung.

She was the only one who knew his true nature.

Her mind raced. What could she do now? If he’d read the letter, he would know she’d made plans to leave St. Louis. He would be angry.

Thoughts swirled as she dodged a mother pushing a baby carriage. Was there anyone she could ask for help? A newsboy’s shout of “Read all about it!” reminded her that her own name had figured prominently in the society pages of late, and the papers hadn’t gotten much correct. Why bother with truth when her brother’s lies sold more papers?

Even worse, her supposed friends now believed those lies. Had conveniently been “not at home” when she’d called on them. Pretended not to see her when they met in public. Who would believe her if she told them Michael had stolen her mail? Who would care?

No one.

She caught the cable car and stared out the window. The houses got larger as she reached the outskirts of the city. She exited at Dolman Street, then hurried past the three-story homes that faced Lafayette Park. Past the Holdens’ place, the Whitlaws’, the Fitzsimmonses’.

She stopped just outside the wrought-iron fence that surrounded the house. She could hardly call it home anymore. It loomed above her, three stories high with large windows leering at her from every level. She’d once loved the warm wood floors, the long, elegant hallways inside. Chasing dust motes, curling up in her window seat to read…Those memories were tainted now.

She inhaled deeply. No help for it. Her only hope for escape lay behind those doors.

The gate screeched as she opened it, announcing her return to anyone listening. She climbed the steps and opened the door. “Michael?” Her brother didn’t answer, but the door to the office was open, so she moved in that direction.

Michael was waiting for her when she entered, seated behind what had once been Father’s desk. He didn’t bother to stand. He might be dressed as a gentleman in his dark suit, silk tie, and black shoes, but he never bothered with the manners that went with the title unless it suited him.

He’d inherited their father’s honey-blond hair, just as she had, but the similarities ended there. He had brown eyes just like his mother and had their father’s height, while she had her mother’s green eyes and short stature.

She hesitated only slightly before moving closer. There was no use avoiding this confrontation.

“Where have you been?” His voice was cool, his question flat.

“Where’s my mail?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“This mail?” He smiled while holding up a letter. As she watched, he slowly tore it in half.

She lunged to reach the ripped letter, but he stood and held it over her head, lighting one corner with a match. Then he tossed it into the fireplace grate to watch it burn.

Kaitlyn rubbed a hand against her chest, but it didn’t ease the tightness. The ashes of her letter fell through the grate, disintegrating like her hopes. She blinked rapidly. What now?

Maybe she could send the school a telegram. They wouldn’t be happy about the wasted expense of that train ticket…

“I don’t know why you would want to leave St. Louis,” Michael said. He gestured to the room around them. “Father left us this beautiful home. All our friends are here.”

All of his friends were here. He’d slowly isolated her from each of her closest allies. Spread gossip. Told lies.

And now this.

He sauntered across the room to the sideboard and poured a drink. “I’m having some guests for supper tonight. We’ll want your company.”

She had no intention of joining him. But maybe…“The pantry is much depleted. Is there anything left of our allowance for the month? I can go shopping.”

Her allowance. It was her allowance, but Father’s will had made Michael the legal custodian until her twenty-fifth birthday or until she married.

“Don’t worry about that. You’ll want to spend some time making yourself presentable for our company.”

Her stomach lurched. “Why?”

She saw the way his eyes glittered as he faced her again. “Brian will be here. He wants to see you.”

Her skin crawled, tiny pinpricks of disgust marching up and down her arms and neck like ants. “I don’t want to see Brian.”

Her brother’s so-called friend was known to run several of the gaming halls in town and was believed to run many less-reputable businesses. He was powerful and vicious. She hated the way he watched her whenever they were in the same room together. His eyes followed her with an intensity that made her deeply uncomfortable, especially after what had happened years ago.

“You’ll be the consummate hostess tonight.” Michael moved toward her.

Kaitlyn pressed her lips together. She would do anything in her power not to attend her brother’s gathering tonight. There was something he wasn’t telling her.

“Don’t test me, Kaitlyn. I’m your protector.”

She wanted to laugh. Michael was not a protector. He was a predator and she was the prey. She eyed the door. The room was small, and Michael had positioned himself to block her retreat.

“Brian Matthews wants to marry you,” Michael said.

Her stomach churned.

“He’ll come courting first, of course.”

She shook her head, backed another step, then held her ground. Any farther and she would be against the wall.

Michael adjusted the sleeves of his suit coat so that his shirt cuffs peeked out by the perfect half of an inch. “You will dote on him tonight.”

“No. I won’t.”

She spun and ran for the door, but Michael grabbed her arm before she could pass him.

“Let me go.”

“You will attend my gathering tonight.” Michael gave the order through gritted teeth. “You will hang on Brian’s every word.”

A part of her was terrified. She knew exactly what Michael was capable of. But she still shook her head. No.

He gave a wordless growl and pulled her bodily down the hall. She struggled against him, but he was bigger and stronger. His grip bruised her forearm.

He thrust her into a storage closet. “You’ll hostess, or you’ll stay here all night.” He slammed the door and banged the bolt into its holder, trapping her inside.

“Michael, don’t! Michael!”

He didn’t answer her. His footsteps faded away even as she pounded on the door.

The walls closed in. It felt as if the air grew warmer and warmer.

She pounded louder. Screamed.

No one came.

Breathe, Kaitlyn. There’s plenty of air. It only feels like you’re suffocating.

It didn’t help. Her breaths were jagged, cutting through her chest.

Michael was a monster. Brian was worse.

She couldn’t stay here. She’d hoped for escape with her train ticket to Piedmont—that wasn’t an option now. Even if she used her own meager funds to get there, it would be the first place Michael would look.

She knew him. She knew what he could do. He would turn the school against her, and she’d be right back under his protection. If she went farther afield, he’d track her down.

Michael was determined she marry Brian.

She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

What was she going to do?

A sob burst from her. Then another. Fear rolled over her in waves. There was no one to help her. No place she could go to find safety.

She heard a whisper of her mother’s voice through the clamor in her head. You’re the smartest of all, Kaitlyn.

It wasn’t real. She knew it was only a figment of her memory.

But it was enough to cut through her terror. Unlock her chest just enough that she could draw a breath. Then another.

Michael had locked her in.

Was there a way out?

“Think, Kaitlyn.” She closed her eyes and pictured the latch on the other side of that door. A simple piece of hardware—just a bolt that turned and slid back and forth in its barrel. There had to be a way to defeat it from the inside.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, the light from around the door allowed her to see what remained in the storeroom. He’d cleaned all the tools out of it. She ran her shaking hand along the floor. Nothing. She stood, and the room swirled around her. A deep inhale and slow exhale steadied the floor. What had she brought into the room with her? She had money in her handbag, but little else. Hairpins? No, too short to be of much use.

There had to be something. Maybe on the shelf? She couldn’t see that high, but she could reach it, run her hand along it. Something poked her fingers. She grabbed it, pulled it down.

Wire. It could form a loop, hold its shape. She wiped her damp palms on her skirt, then held her hands in front of herself, frowning. They were still shaking slightly, but she’d have to manage it. No time to wait for them to stop.

She quickly bent the wire, then slid the curve through the crack in the door, running it down to the place where she could see the bolt. It took several tries before she could capture the knob holding it in place, but once she did, it was only a matter of moments before she was out of the closet.

She slipped across the hallway to her own room. No time to regret hiding most of her emergency funds in her desk. Michael had surely found that when he’d picked the lock to find the rest of her correspondence with the Piedmont School District. But she removed two ten-dollar gold coins from the pocket attached to the outgrown corset she’d left in her closet.

She glanced around her room, daring only a minute’s delay. She had planned her exit carefully, but now she had no time to follow her packing list. Michael might be back at any time. Still, the shopping basket she’d put in her closet might make her look like a servant out on errands. The perfect fit of her suit with its simple velvet trim would only stand out to someone with an eye for fashion. Most wouldn’t see past the basket, which made it worth the seconds it would take to pack it.

What to take? Her silver brush, comb, and mirror set had belonged to her mother and could be sold if necessary. Her mother’s Bible went in next, and then all of her own jewelry. She hadn’t been able to afford nice pieces on the allowance her brother gave her from her inheritance, but they might bring in a little cash. Some clean underthings to muffle any rattle. That would have to do. She didn’t have time to consider more carefully.

She opened her window and lowered the basket to the ground outside. She had to raise her skirts to a scandalous level to follow her belongings out the window, but then, scandal already clung to her like a heavy cloak. She cut across the back of the Fitzsimmonses’ place to the sidewalk, then across the park, careful to copy the scurrying walk of the maids sent out on errands.

She didn’t know what to do now. Piedmont wasn’t an option. There was no friend to call on, no one to help.

She wouldn’t go back to Michael, who wanted to marry her off to Brian.

The only way out of town was the train, so she hurried north. Her heart thudded in her chest. She didn’t dare look over her shoulder, couldn’t break her pretense. When she arrived at the train station, she examined the schedule. Her heart sank. Only one train scheduled, and the only place available was a sleeping car. Her remaining funds wouldn’t take her far enough. Michael had far-reaching connections. She backed away from the counter, her knees shaking.

Lord, please help me. What do I do now?

She retreated toward the ladies’ waiting area, staying close to the wall in case her legs needed extra support. A less expensive train left early tomorrow morning, but that would be too late. Michael would find her.

Her foot brushed something that crinkled. Why someone had thrown it to the ground instead of into a wastebasket, she couldn’t guess. A flash of green banding caught her eye. That looked like…She knelt to pick up the wadded bunch of papers and pulled out the one with the green band. It said Cheyenne, Wyoming . She checked the date and time on the ticket.

The train was scheduled to leave in ten minutes.

And thanks to this ticket, she’d be on board.