His Remarkable Bride (8 page)

“But where are you taking them?” Elspeth demanded over the cries and protests of the children.

“To the hotel.”

For whatever reason, that announcement lessened the children’s shrieks and panic.

“I have engaged a suite at the hotel where the children will be kept until such a time as a place can be made for them at the Cheyenne Home for Miscreant Children.”

“There is no such thing,” Hubert shouted.

“There is,” Mrs. Lyon replied ominously.

Elspeth’s mind reeled. She glanced at the paper in her hands once more, but the words didn’t make any more sense this time than they had before. She jogged to keep up with the cluster as they marched toward the large, white hotel Athos had pointed out to her the day before. Mrs. Lyon walked with her nose on the air, a superior, oblivious smile on her face. Elspeth still wanted to slap the woman, but that wasn’t going to help. No, the only thing she could think of that would help was Athos.

“Children, be good.” She picked up her pace to get as close to the children as the thugs would let her. “This must be some sort of misunderstanding. Stay calm and quiet, and I’ll fetch your father.”

“Papa, Papa!” The younger ones wailed.

“I’ll get him,” Elspeth vowed. “And then we’ll sort this muddle out.”

Busy days meant better days. The old adage that his mother used to recite when Athos was a boy came back to him now as he worked stacking crates of supplies for the general store that had come in on the second train of the day. The first train had contained more passengers than cargo, including the curious group consisting of one woman in a tight, grey suit and four men that would have been more in their element in a logging camp than escorting one woman. Athos didn’t think much of it, though.

No, if he was going to think about any woman, it was going to be his new wife. Charlie Garrett and the others involved with the women at Hurst Home had hit a homerun with Elspeth, as far as he was concerned. He grinned like a fool as he loaded crates for the general store into Lex Kline’s wagon. Elspeth was intelligent and capable, and darn near the prettiest woman he’d seen in ages. He’d had a hard time not staring at her hair—dark and rich as chocolate—when she’d taken it down before bed the night before. He’d had a hard time not staring at other things about her too. A nightgown could only conceal so much. Then again, she’d gotten an eyeful of more of him than he’d bargained for that morning.

“That’s the smile of a man content with his lot.”

Athos turned to find Gideon Faraday approaching him from the other end of the platform. He laughed as he hoisted the last crate into Lex’s wagon. “I’m feeling remarkably content with my lot in life this morning.”

Gideon thumped him on the back as soon as he was close enough. “I can’t wait to meet your new wife. Whispers already say she’s something special.”

“You know, I think she is.” Athos didn’t mean to sound so mystified as he spoke, but the fact that such a wonderful woman could have been paired with him was baffling as far as he was concerned.

“I hear she’s English,” Gideon went on.

Athos blinked. “Yes, I think she is.” He laughed. “Of course she is. I don’t know why I didn’t ask her about that yesterday.”

“Love makes us forget everything,” Gideon said.

“Oh, it’s not love,” Athos insisted. “We’ve only just met, after all. And I wouldn’t ask someone like Elspeth for something so…so personal. Not until we’ve known each other for years at least. And even then we’ll probably be too busy to feel anything at all.” Like he and Natalie had been. The thought was disquieting, so he cleared his throat and shook it off.

He rapped on the back of Lex’s wagon to let the man know the loading was finished, then turned and headed up onto the platform with Gideon.

“What can I do for you today, Gid?” he asked.

“I’m just checking to see if the equipment I ordered came in.” Gideon followed him into the warehouse portion of the stationhouse.

“This last train had dozens of boxes on it,” he said, searching through the piles he’d made earlier. “I had to get the train porters to help me unload, and they weren’t happy about that. I told them it was either that or make the train late.”

“Have you considered asking Howard to pay for an assistant?” Gideon asked.

The question went unanswered. Before Athos could so much as open his mouth, he was startled by Elspeth’s cry of, “Athos! Athos!”

Dropping everything, Athos dashed out of the stationhouse. He searched the platform, then rushed around the side, only to see Elspeth tearing down Main Street toward him. His heart shot to his throat. Was someone injured? Was the house on fire? Had one of his children caused a riot?

“Athos!” Elspeth skidded to a breathless halt near the edge of the platform.

Athos leapt down to catch her. “What? What is it? Are the children hurt?”

She shook her head, face pinched, eyes red-rimmed and glassy, then gulped for air. “They’ve been taken.”

“What?” He tightened his hold on Elspeth’s arms. His heart thundered in his chest. He hugged Elspeth close on instinct. “What happened?”

She struggled away from him enough to hand him a piece of crumpled parchment. “A Mrs. Margaret Lyon from the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Children claimed that they were being mistreated. She had four men with her. They snatched up the children and took them away to the hotel.”

“No!” Panic washed through Athos in a nauseating wave. His hands shook as he stared at the parchment, trying to make sense of what was printed on it. He’d seen his fair share of legal documents as stationmaster, but this was outrageous.

At least, it was outrageous until he noticed a key piece of information near the bottom: by the order of Rex Bonneville.

“Bonneville,” he growled, fury taking over from fear.

“Who?”

“Rex Bonneville.” He balled his hand into a fist around the parchment. “There was an incident a few weeks ago, before you came,” he explained quickly, pivoting and marching up onto the platform, Elspeth by his side. “Lael, Neva, Millie, and Thomas bumped into Bonneville’s daughters after church, causing a spill and knocking a table of food onto them. There have been other instances where the kids have upset the Bonneville sisters as well, but that one…” He sighed, some of his energy leaving him as the reality of the situation grabbed hold of him. “Rex said I would regret this.”

“That’s awful,” Elspeth exclaimed. “What kind of man would order children taken from their father as an act of revenge?”

“Rex Bonneville,” Athos answered.

They crossed into the station office, where Athos grabbed his uniform jacket. He shrugged into it as they headed out again. No one took his children and got away with it.

“What’s this I hear about Bonneville causing trouble with the children?” Gideon—who was still looking for his shipment in the warehouse room—asked as they marched past.

Athos was too outraged to answer the question. “Gideon, would you be able to mind the station while I deal with this?”

“Absolutely,” Gideon answered without hesitation. “I’ll help in any way I can.”

“Thanks.”

Athos continued around the edge of the platform and out into the street. He grabbed Elspeth’s hand when they started up Main Street, fearing that he would need her courage—and possibly her restraint—to deal with this.

“That woman took the children to the hotel,” Elspeth told him as they half walked, half ran.

“The hotel?” Athos skipped a step, then doubled his speed.

“She said she rented a suite there.”

His panic eased by a hair. Everyone knew The Cattleman Hotel was neutral territory in Haskell. More than that, it was overseen by Theophilus Gunn, one of the few people Athos could trust in a situation like this.

Indeed, as Athos and Elspeth rushed up the steps of the hotel’s porch and barged through the front door into the lobby, Gunn was standing near the front desk, as though he was expecting them.

But Gunn wasn’t the only one. Rex Bonneville and all four of his daughters loitered suspiciously in the lobby as well, as if waiting for a baseball game to begin. Athos didn’t know which direction to run in or which demands to make first.

A sharp cry of “Papa!” from the hallway to the right of the front desk decided him.

“Millie!” He dropped Elspeth’s hand and darted for the side hall just as someone grabbed Millie and yanked her away.

Millie’s sharp scream was followed by excited and frightened shouts from all of his children. Athos made it around the corner and into the hall just as a door slammed shut at the far end. The shouts and pleas of his children continued on the other side as two muscular men—two of the ones he had seen getting off the train—stood guard in front of it. The woman in the grey suit that he had seen earlier was just straightening from the door, a hotel key in her hand. She turned to Athos with a frigid smile.

“What is the meaning of this?” Athos demanded, charging down the hall. “By whose authority have you kidnapped my children?”

The cries of “Papa, Papa!” on the other side of the door abruptly stopped, and Athos had the feeling his children were listening. They weren’t the only ones. The lobby end of the hall quickly filled with Bonnevilles, Elspeth, and Gunn.

The woman in the grey suit stepped away from the door, her back straight, her nose tilted up in disgust, and advanced toward him. “I suppose you are the
father
.” She said the word as though saying he was the drunkard. She must have been the Mrs. Lyon Elspeth mentioned earlier.

“Yes.” Athos moved to stand toe-to-toe with her, shoulders squared, jaw set. “Give me my children back.”

Mrs. Lyon cleared her throat and picked an imaginary piece of lint from her sleeve. Without looking at him, she said, “I see you have the court order in your hand. You have been deemed an unfit parent, and I, as representative of the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Children, have performed the necessary act of
mercy
in removing the mistreated children from your home.”

“My children are not mistreated,” Athos boomed. “They are loved and cared for.”

Behind the door, cries of, “We are!” “Papa loves us!” “He’s the best papa in the world!” rang out.

A muffled voice within the room shouted at the children to be quiet. The supportive shouts instantly stopped. Athos saw red.

“You will let my children out of that room at once,” he demanded. “You have no right to keep them prisoner.”

“This is a hotel, not a prison,” Mrs. Lyon sniffed. “And they are only being secured in this room to prevent you from doing them further harm.”

“
Further harm
?” Athos bellowed in outrage. He might have been a fool, but he wasn’t so big of a fool that he couldn’t see dealing with Mrs. Lyon was pointless. He whipped around, marching back down the hall toward Rex Bonneville. “You’re behind this.”

Bonneville crossed his arms and stood straighter. “I don’t deny it. The way those children behave is a disgrace.”

“It’s about time someone put a stop to it.” Vivian echoed her father’s pose, crossing her arms and tilting her chin up to look down her nose at Athos.

“Yes, and that someone is us,” Bebe added, trying but failing to have the same authority as her father and oldest sister.

“This is going too far.” Athos wasn’t about to be intimidated by Bonneville. “These are my children. They are my life. You can’t just take them away from me.”

“A court in Cheyenne says I can.” Bonneville shrugged. “I presented ample evidence to the territory office for housing and citizenry.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Elspeth interjected. “I’ve never even heard of it.”

The Bonneville sisters stared at Elspeth, raking her with glances from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet.

“Who are you?” Melinda asked.

“I’m Mrs. Athos Strong,” she told them, planting her hands on her hips.

A sudden burst of pride and relief that Elspeth was on his side filled Athos. “I sent for her from Hurst Home and we were married yesterday.” He rounded on Bonneville. “Elspeth is here to help care for the children.”

“Clearly she’s not up to the task,” Mrs. Lyon interrupted. “When I went to the house to rescue the children it was in a deplorable state. Laundry was scattered all over the backyard. The two oldest girls were engaged in slave labor hanging it on the line.”

“What?” Elspeth barked in protest. “They had kindly offered to help.”

“Two of the boys were stranded in a tree where one nearly fell to his death,” Mrs. Lyon went on. “The younger ones were screaming like banshees. The oldest implied that he hadn’t been fed for days.”

“Hubert is a growing boy. He’s always hungry,” Athos protested.

Mrs. Lyon ignored him. “And the youngest admitted that he had nearly died twice that day, once by consuming soap.”

“They’re children,” Athos roared. “They’re lively, curious, industrious
children
.”

“They are in harm’s way and they have been removed,” Mrs. Lyon insisted.

“I want them back.” Athos moved as if to rush down the hall. Mrs. Lyon stepped into his path, and the two men guarding the door rushed forward to protect her.

“You had your chance, Strong,” Bonneville said, a sly grin narrowing his eyes. “You are a failure as a father. The law and the government of this great territory has finally caught up with you.”

Athos wheeled back to face down Bonneville. “You mean your crony friends in the Wyoming Stock Grower’s Association stepped in to do your dirty work. Everyone knows that little club controls the territorial government.”

Bonneville shrugged, not denying it. “Either way, your children will be placed in foster homes as the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Children sees fit. Even if they have to be split up,” he added with a vicious smirk.

“No, you can’t,” Elspeth gasped.

“What do you care?” Vivian snapped.

“You barely know them,” Melinda added.

“Yeah, you just got here yesterday,” Bebe finished.

“Perhaps we should give them a chance to explain,” Honoria added, inching sideways to come out of the shadows where she’d hidden. Her eyes were rimmed with shadows, and she coughed before going on with, “Mr. Strong has remarried, after all. Maybe all the children need is a new mother to help settle them.”