Saved by the Hunter (Preview)

Prologue

My dearest love, Reuben Thatcher wrote on his notepad. He was leaning against a tree he’d found at the top of a gently sloping hill. He thought about Mary, his wife, the most beautiful woman in the world, and continued his letter. 

I can’t wait to be back home. I love my hunting trips, but more and more, I just want to spend time with you. I wish my job didn’t take me away for so long. Maybe when I return, I’ll do something new. What do you think of that idea?

Reuben lifted his eyes to gaze out at the horizon, feeling a cerebral peace fall on him like a blanket. He tilted his head back and basked in the sun. It was late afternoon, still several hours left before the sun would dip below the skyline in the distance. 

He and his friends hunted all over the plains of Nevada. His hometown, Badger’s Nest, was smack in the middle of the state. Some of the best hunting grounds were in northern Nevada, he’d found.

But Mary was at home and he was hunting down this elk, one of the biggest to be found in Nevada. It would provide some excellent, tough skin for clothes, bags, lantern coverings, and more. The meat would keep them fed for months. 

Twenty-four days so far he and his two companions had been tracking the animal. It would be worth it if they caught it. Along the way, they’d picked off a few white-tail deer, just for good measure. 

Reuben set the notepad to the side and picked up his telescope. He put it to one eye and adjusted it until he could see across the wide ravine to the other side, where he could have sworn the bushes shivered with motion, indicating a large animal was present. Reuben had been hunting from the age of five. He recognized the difference between wind movement and animal movement.

He swung the telescope over, focusing ahead of the movement, sweeping his gaze across the bushes and trees until he spotted the dark tan skin of the animal. He pulled the telescope down and squinted, focusing on the distance. The enormous creature was moving slowly along a rocky path along the side of the opposing hill. 

He spun his head in the other direction to whistle to his companions. They were at the campsite the three men had made when they first came to the area. He could only saw one man outside the tents. Reuben lifted his telescope, vigorously waving in the direction of the elk. 

He looked back and lifted his telescope to look through it again. If they came up behind the elk from three directions, one of them was bound to get a hit. 

He turned once more and looked down the hill at the campsite. He could see Paul waving back at him. He was yelling something, but it wasn’t loud enough for Reuben to make out the words. 

He made wild motions with his own hands, indicating he couldn’t hear Paul. Where was Jimmy? Paul gestured to the three large rocks they had placed around the campfire. He pointed at himself and at Reuben and then shrugged. 

Reuben understood. Jimmy wasn’t at the campsite. He wondered where their friend had gone. He’d been sitting under the tree for no longer than twenty minutes and had just started writing to Mary. It wasn’t his fault he’d gotten caught up in the beauty of the landscape.

This wasn’t their first trip to Mount Moriah looking for the famous elk. Many men had hunted these grounds in search of it. Reuben had a bet going that his team would win this year. They would get the fifteen-pointer and have it stuffed and displayed like a trophy. Unless they decided to split it up even more to maximize the profit for the three of them. 

Reluctantly, Reuben began back down the hill. He couldn’t believe he was walking away from the elk. 

“I saw him right across the ravine!” he called out as he got closer. He swept his eyes around the campsite. 

“We can’t do maximum lethality if there isn’t three of us. We’re gonna have to wait for Jimmy to get back,” Paul replied.

As if on cue, the sound of approaching horse hooves got Reuben’s attention. Both he and Paul looked to see Jimmy riding up from the west, the sun glinting through the trees and forming many halos and sun rays around his body. He slid out of his saddle, handing Reuben a letter from the top of the pack. His face was stony cold and he said nothing. 

Reuben gave him a confused look, taking the folded paper and flipping it open. “What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“Just read it,” Jimmy replied breathlessly. 

Reuben immediately recognized the handwriting. It had taken him years as an adult to understand the nearly illegible writing of the doctor in Badger’s Nest. The words he read left him feeling cold, as if the sun had disappeared and the earth had iced over.

Reuben—Mary suddenly took ill and died overnight. 

I am so sorry. Please return as soon as you can.

Reuben blinked, going numb from head to toe. His knees weakened and his legs gave way, dropping him to the ground. Paul reached out to him, horror on his face. 

“What is it?” He looked at Jimmy, whose face was distressed, as both of them grabbed and steadied their friend. “What happened? Is it Mary?”

Reuben saw stars in front of his eyes. His chest hurt, agony blazing through his mind. He pitched back and his friends lowered him to lie down on the ground. 

“Breathe, Reuben,” Paul said, his voice trembling. “Just breathe.”

Sobs ripped through him and he managed to get out, “How can I? How can I when she isn’t?”

 

Chapter One

A scream rang out. 

Mabel Goodwin spun around several times, ending the spin with a clap of her hands. She proceeded with further steps in her dance, keeping time with the thumping piano, guitar, and Benny on his trusty bongo drum making the saloon pulse with sound and rhythm. 

More screams of delight came from the women. Men hooted and hollered their approval of the dance Mabel and her best friend Agnes were performing for their entertainment. 

The more they danced, the more money they would earn. Mabel knew the deal and was there to make it happen. She loved dancing. She had amazing legs and often pulled her skirt up a little higher than her knee to get the men going. They emptied their wallets when she sang and danced for them. Agnes had the same talent. The two of them could make an entire town of men go broke in one night. 

Mabel hopped up on one of the large round card tables and finished her dance there. She spun around several times, her eyes on the crowd gathered around the table, surging toward her, reaching out to touch her but only brushing their fingertips on her dress. It was a magnificent time. 

When the saloon wasn’t so boisterous, Mabel was a different person. But when the hard-working men came in on Friday and Saturday nights, Mabel and her three girlfriends gave them the show they wanted to see. 

The men helped Mabel down as the song ended. She was exhausted, but that didn’t stop her from swatting their hands away when they were reluctant to let her go. She skipped away before anyone could strike up a conversation. 

She allowed only so much touching and skipped away from them laughing when they tried to talk to her. She was only there to entertain them with song and dance. She never went any further than that and had never developed any relationships with the patrons. 

Ian Hawke, the bartender and their boss, was a strictly business kind of guy. He never took advantage of the girls he’d hired, and if he saw a patron getting too familiar or forcing himself on any of them, he put a stop to it with the Winchester rifle he kept proudly displayed on the wall behind the bar. More than once he’d pulled it down and sent men out the door to preserve their lives. 

She sat on one of the tall stools at the bar and turned when Ian brought her a mug. She tossed it back. She liked the taste of beer and the way it affected her nerves. Mabel was more likely to dance when she’d had a little ale to boost her confidence. 

It was coming to the end of the night, and she was ready for it to end. Tomorrow was Sunday and she would be up at ten o’clock, ready for church at eleven. It was a tradition in the Horse and Bridle Saloon for all the girls to meet up outside the saloon and walk to church every Sunday morning. They’d formed a pact, the four of them—Mabel and Agnes, Ginger, and Rebecca. If anything ever happened to any of them, the other three were the first to know. They kept constant tabs on each other.

The night went on and Mabel danced to more bouncy tunes. She did the waltz with a nice gentleman who didn’t put his hands in places she didn’t want them. He had a kind smile. She danced well with him and enjoyed herself thoroughly. 

The man proved himself to be a complete gentleman because at the end of the night, long after they’d done another dramatic waltz for the amusement of the crowd, he sought her out to say goodnight, sweeping a dramatic bow to her and calling her “ma’am.”

Then he left. No fuss at all. No trying to force her to go with him as others had done. She ended up thinking about him as they closed the saloon at near three in the morning so Ian and the girls could rest up before church. 

“I’m not trying to win a husband here,” Mabel said casually as she lifted all the chairs to set them upside down on the tables. Agnes followed behind her, using a broom to sweep up the dirt from the boots of the cowboys and working men. Sometimes the girls had to scrub clumps of mud or cow dung off the floor. Mabel hated that chore.

“Well, you are allowed to be interested in a nice man, Mabel,” Agnes replied, glancing up at her. “There are good men out there. They’re just usually not in here. If you see him out on the street and he says something to you, there’s no reason you can’t build a relationship with him.”

Mabel sighed. Did she really want a husband, though? Was she ready for that life? She shook her head. 

“I don’t think now is the time for me to be making a big change in my life,” she responded, pulling up more chairs and making her way around the room. “I like my life the way it is. I have fun working here with you girls, living with you in the boarding house. I don’t need a husband and children. Not yet.”

Agnes gave her a wide smile that made it up to her deep brown eyes. “When you’re ready to make a change, you’ll know it. That’s just the kind of girl you are. You don’t make decisions until you’ve thought it all the way through.” Agnes stopped sweeping, her gaze drifting into space. She sighed, clutching the top of the broom and propping her chin on her hands. “I wish I was like that. I just do things without even thinking about it. That’s why I’m here. I’m too scared I’m gonna do something foolish if I go out on my own.”

Mabel laughed softly, thinking about her own circumstances. It was like the events of her life had just sent her in chaotic directions. She’d had to think on her feet a lot. Her parents died when she was young and she was raised by her maternal grandparents. In time, they both passed away, as well, and the only thing she knew to do was get a job and support herself. 

She had one living relative not living in her town, her paternal grandmother. Mabel saw no reason to try to find her.

Now, she was finishing with the last of the chairs to be propped up on tables. She stood by, watching Agnes go under the tables with her broom. “I think you’ll be fine, Aggie. You’re still young. You’re only nineteen! You’ve got plenty of life ahead of you.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it,” Agnes said, coming up beside her with a pile of dirt and debris in between them that she swept into a circle. “I don’t know whether I’m wasting my life here or if this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Mabel smiled, giving Agnes an affectionate look. “You should take your own advice. And maybe talk to the pastor about that tomorrow. He might give you some insight. I’ll be honest with you, I think he was the one who really got me thinking about it. My life, I mean. And what kind of changes I want to make. When it’s time to make them. Meeting that nice man tonight was like reinforcing my thoughts.”

Agnes went to the bar and grabbed the dustpan, and Mabel held it while she pushed the pile onto it. They went past the bar into the back. Mabel opened the door  so Agnes could toss the dirt and debris into the back alley. 

They both stood there for a moment, staring out at the dark sky dotted with blinking white stars. The moon overhead was nearly full and gave off a good deal of white light, creating long shadows through the town. 

“It’s a beautiful night,” Mabel murmured, standing next to Agnes, putting one arm around her friend’s shoulders. Agnes put her arm around Mabel’s waist and they stayed that way for a few moments, looking out at the beauty, feeling the light breeze on their cheeks. Mabel closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. 

“Let’s get finished up,” Agnes said, drawing her from her thoughts. “I want to get to bed. I’m tired.”

Mabel nodded in agreement. They turned and Agnes went in first. They both went to the closet in that back room where all the cooking was done. They kept all the cleaning supplies in that closet. Mabel went toward the door to go into the main lobby but stopped with her hand on the door. 

Agnes almost ran into her. “What are you—”

Mabel put up one hand to silence her. Her heart slammed in her chest. She’d heard something on the other side of the door that scared her. It sounded like a gun cocking. With her breath rapid through a dry mouth, she gently pushed the door and peeked through the crack she’d made. She couldn’t see anything. 

She pushed a little harder to open the crack further when the door suddenly slammed into her, knocking her into Agnes, who screamed. Mabel fell on top of her friend and immediately rolled off toward the waist-high table in the middle of the room. She looked back and saw a large man storm through the door, holding a rifle to his shoulder, aiming it at Agnes. 

“Get up!” he roared. “Get on your feet now!”

Agnes screamed at the top of her lungs, flipped over onto all fours, and tried to scramble away from the man. Mabel made it to the table and pushed herself around to the other side, hoping the man hadn’t seen her in the darkness. 

She went all the way around so she could see Agnes. She was hoping her friend would make it to the back door without being shot. What she saw horrified her. The big man reached down to Agnes, grabbed a clump of her curly brown hair in his fist, and yanked her onto her feet. Agnes screamed in fear and pain. 

Mabel leaped to her feet, searching the familiar kitchen for a weapon. She was near the drawer that held all the knives. Mabel moved as fast as she could, yanking open the drawer and pulling out the largest knife she could grab. 

She turned and brandished the knife toward the man, who knew she was there now despite the darkness. He turned the rifle onto her and sneered. 

“I have a gun, missy. Put that down before you hurt yourself.” He swung the rifle back toward Agnes. “Or get your friend shot.”

 

Chapter Two

Six years had passed since Reuben had lost Mary and his life had dragged on. He was on another hunting trip. He’d never stopped. He hated the feeling, but it was almost like Mary had never been there. Each year, he’d pulled away from the pain more and more. 

The thought crossed his mind as he rode past the church to go into town for supplies. He had several errands to run. Now that he was an established businessman, having opened a leather-working shop, he spent more time in town talking to people and getting things done than he did in his small home. And when he wasn’t doing business, he was on the hunt.

When he and Mary had moved into that home eight years ago, they’d thought it was too big, more than what they needed at the time. Now, even though it was only him, Reuben thought of it as small. Almost like a tomb… or a coffin. 

People on the sidewalks waved to him as he went by. He waved back, smiling widely. He’d done leatherwork for almost everyone in Badger’s Nest over the age of sixteen, making saddles, knife sheaths, gun belts, and much more. The best thing about his business was that he got to go on special hunts, still with the same two men, though the elk they’d been after that day so long ago had long since been caught and killed. 

Reuben hunted for the leather he provided in his shop. He skinned and tanned the animals, selling meat for profit, as well. Most of it he kept himself in a cold storage so that if there was ever a shortage, he would be able to provide for more than himself, getting the rest of the townsfolk to the next hunting season. 

He stopped his horse in front of Old Mac’s General Store and dismounted, tying the reins to the hitching rail out front. He glanced down at the water trough, which was full, and the water looked clean and fresh. Patting his horse, Thunder, on the neck, he took the three steps up onto the short porch in front of the store in one. Reuben opened the door and went in. 

“Good morning, Reuben!” Old Mac came around the counter from where he’d been standing, his hand outstretched. Reuben shook it amiably.

“Mornin’, Old Mac. How’s business?”

“Boomin’ as always. You goin’ on another hunt?” Old Mac turned to walk with Reuben to the gun section, where new guns and ammunition were on display. “Need somethin’ new to play with?”

“Actually not lookin’ for a new gun,” he responded. “Just some ammo and a few other things. I could use a new canteen. That last one, I’m tellin’ ya, I think somethin’ crawled in it and died. I’ve rinsed it again and again and it just tastes rancid whenever I use it. Time to throw that one out.”

Old Mac nodded. “I understand. You probably wantin’ one the same size and all so it’ll fit in your strap?” He grinned at Reuben. “I saw that fancy strap you made for your canteen. I’ve thought so many times about askin’ you to make one for me. How much would ya charge to make one for me?”

Reuben had to think about it for a moment. He’d made the canteen holder out of some scraps of leather he’d found and sewed together. It was an idea for convenience’s sake only. 

“Ain’t ever really thought about it but, I’m thinkin’ you might not need it. I never seen you go on a hunt before. When would you use it?”

Old Mac laughed. “Ya got me. I wasn’t thinkin’ about for me. I was thinking about my grandson. I think he’d love it!”

“Oh.” Reuben nodded. That sounded right. “In that case, I’ll charge you fifty cents for one. I’ll make it this afternoon.”

A look of surprise and delight crossed the shopkeeper’s long face. “Why thank you, Reuben! That’s real generous of ya!”

“I’ll make it the same size as this one?” Reuben picked up a canteen that was exactly like the one he had thrown out.

“Yes, that’s the one. Hey, I appreciate that, Reuben. My grandson is gonna love it. You go ahead and take that one there. Put it as payment toward the strap. I’ll still give you the fifty cents you asked for, don’t worry. I’m not trying to get out of paying you!”

They both laughed. Reuben shook his head. That wasn’t what he’d been thinking. He liked the man and would have made it for free but he knew it would be an insult to turn down the payment. He didn’t want Old Mac to feel like he was receiving charity. 

“I’ll take this one up to put what you need in a box,” Old Mac continued, taking the canteen from Reuben’s hands and hurrying to the counter. “You go ahead and grab what you need.”

Reuben chuckled under his breath, watching the tall, skinny older man move. He was so quick. It was as if the energy he’d had as a boy had gone dormant until he was an old man and now he could skitter around like a bunny rabbit. 

Reuben finished his shopping and was at the counter watching Old Mac count up the total when the door opened behind him.

“Mornin’, old man.” 

The words and the voice made the hair on Reuben’s neck stand on end. He didn’t need to turn around to know it was Felix Nunes, one of his hunting rivals. He supplied meat to the townspeople, too. Reuben doubted Felix had as much stored meat, though. Felix wasn’t a forward-thinking kind of fellow. He concentrated too much on the money he could make. He wasn’t worried about possible events that might devastate the crops or livestock in the area. 

“Mornin’, Felix,” Old Mac responded, just glancing up at the man who had entered.  

Reuben winced and closed his eyes when the man behind him slapped a hand on his shoulder. 

“And how’ve you been, Reuben? Still lookin’ for the best leather you can find?”

Reuben turned a flat grin to Felix, knowing it looked as fake as it was. “As always, Felix.”

Felix scanned the contents of the box. It wasn’t a secret and nothing about it was private, but Reuben still felt the urge to hide his purchased items from Felix’s probing eyes. 

“You’re goin’ on another trip, are ya?” He didn’t wait for Reuben to confirm the assumption. “Got a new prize you’re goin’ for? Wouldn’t happen to be the big ten-pointer, would it? That old grandpa is gonna drop to my bullet. Hope ya know that.”

Reuben didn’t fall for his rival’s baiting. He knew when he had the upper hand. Felix wasn’t planning on going hunting anytime soon. And Reuben also knew for a fact Felix wouldn’t be hunting where he was. 

He had a plan. He’d done extra scouting and mapping that Felix wouldn’t even dream of doing. That ten-pointer was his to claim. He could feel it in his bones. Felix bringing it up just strengthened his resolve. 

“I’m goin’ hunting, as you can see,” he finally responded, handing over his money and pulling the box up under his arm. “I’ll let you know how it goes.” He spoke dryly, eyeing Felix. “You’ll be the very first person I seek out. How’s that?”

Felix didn’t look happy with that plan. “I ain’t holdin’ my breath, mind ya,” he said, staying at the counter as Reuben went to the entrance. 

He pulled the door open and held it. Giving Old Mac a nod, he said, “Take care, Old Mac. I’ll get right on that leather strap for ya.”

“Thank you, Reuben. Good luck on your hunt!” The old man lifted one long arm and waved, smiling. 

As he went down to his horse to strap the box behind him on Thunder’s rear, he was filled with affection for the old shopkeeper. He’d run that store since Reuben was a little boy. Old Mac’s son, Junior, would be taking over eventually. The apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree—Junior was just as amiable as his father. He would keep the business thriving for decades, there was no doubt.