The Wanted Bride
Page 6
Hannah’s mouth turned to sawdust. What was Loretta up to? Had she recognized her as the Shadow?
Nathan laughed. “I thought that was my job.”
“Not today, buddy. We’ve got some woman-talking to do.”
Loretta picked up two cups of punch and passed one to Hannah. “Why don’t we take our drinks inside for a bit? I need a break from the crowd.
“That would be wonderful. I have to admit I’m not much of a crowd person myself.” Hannah couldn’t believe her luck. She thought she’d have to sneak inside to study the house’s floor plan.
Loretta and Hannah entered the house through the backdoor.
“This is a beautiful kitchen,” Hannah praised. “So big and airy.”
“Would you like a tour?”
“Absolutely.” Hannah hid her grin. Loretta was practically spoon-feeding her the needed knowledge of the Leachman’s home.
When they entered the study, Hannah touched Loretta’s elbow. “I heard about the robbery last week. Are you and your husband all right?”
Loretta waved her hand in the air. “Now we are. We were pretty shaken for a few days, but we’re fine now.
“Bart and two armed guards bring the gold home every night instead of leaving it at the mine. When there is enough to take to the assayer, he and the guards take it to town.”
“Aren’t you worried someone will try to steal it from here?” Hannah asked, needing to know exactly where the gold was being kept and what pre-cautions were taken.
Loretta glanced at a large oak cabinet in the corner. Hannah followed Loretta’s gaze and knew she’d found the gold. No need to dawdle in Bart’s home office any longer. “Is the parlor as beautiful as the rest of the house?”
“More so,” Loretta cooed, “It my pride and joy.”
Once in the parlor and Hannah had ooohed and ahhed over every knick-knack and fabric choice, they sat and sipped their punch. Loretta said, “So, tell me about you and the Sheriff.”
Hannah almost choked on her punch. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, don’t me coy, girl. The whole town is abuzz with the way you have Nathan wrapped around your pinkie.”
“That’s a bit exaggerated.” Hannah sit her punch on the coffee table in front of them. “Nathan is a good man and a dear friend. And I’m sure he would say the same about me if asked. But we’ve only known each other a month or so. It’s way too early to speculate on a future.”
“Now who’s exaggerating?” Loretta laughed. “I’ve seen how he looks at you. And you him.”
“There you are, ladies.” Bart interrupted. “Supper is ready. Come on before Nathan eats it all.”
The ladies followed Bart out. When Loretta stepped onto the porch the guests applauded and shouted “Happy Birthday!”
Hannah moved from behind Loretta and blended in with the other merrymakers. Sorrow clogged her throat.
Enjoy today, sweet Lady. For the next few days are going to be rough ones.
Chapter 9
Nathan moved behind Hannah, slipped his arm around her waist and called out with the crowd, “Happy Birthday, Loretta!”
Hannah leaned into him. “She really is a good woman.”
“Did you expect otherwise?” He whispered close to her ear.
“Remember I said I hear things at the Café?” Hannah whispered back.
“Yes.”
“Well,” she paused, then shook her head. “Not here.”
Nathan glanced over at the growing line at the food tables then nodded at a large oak on the edge of the party. “Let’s take a walk until the line thins out a bit.”
Hannah smiled up at him, turning his mind to mush. Maybe he could steal a kiss in the deep shade?
He tucked her hand around the crook of his elbow and lead her to the semi-privacy of the old oak tree. Someone in the crowd called out, “Hey, Sheriff, you got a bad guy cornered behind that tree?” followed by a chorus of laughter.
So, much for sneaking a kiss—or a hug, for that matter.
They stopped under the massive tree. Hannah leaned against the trunk while he moved to the other side of a low limb, needing a barrier between them. If he stood too close or she leaned toward him, he might forget they had an audience.
Crossing his arms on top of the branch, he asked, “So, what is it that you don’t want others to hear?”
Hannah sighed, “It’s not anything everyone in town doesn’t already know, I just didn’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings if the wrong person overheard.”
“Like I hadn’t already figured that much out.” Nathan coaxed, “Still waiting.”
“Several people have mentioned that Bart Leachman doesn’t share his wealth well.”
Nathan laughed. “That’s the nicest way I’ve ever heard someone called tight-fisted.”
“Don’t laugh at me, lawman.” Hannah shook a finger at him. “Charity is a virtue. A virtue Bart doesn’t possess.”
Nathan grinned. “That doesn’t make him a bad man.”
She folded her arms under her breasts. “No, just stingy.”
Hannah could take on a bear, and probably win, when she was riled. If he ever needed someone to watch his back, she would fill the bill.
When did he start trusting her so much?
“Come on, grumpy.” He ducked under the limb and offered his arm. “Maybe a plate of barbeque will soothe your ruffled feathers.”
“I’m not grumpy,” she protested as she took his elbow. “I was just saying that Loretta seems to be a sweet, giving person who is married to a penny-pinching miser.”
“Not all people find the same traits attractive.” Nathan shrugged. “Me, I’m a pushover for a brown-eyed woman.”
Laughing they joined the line at the food tables.
* * *
An hour later, Nathan escorted Hannah off the dance floor. Winded from an energetic Polka, they found an unoccupied haybale and sat down.
“Would you like some punch?” Nathan asked.
“Yes, I’d love some,” Hannah replied, smiling brightly.
He ran his knuckle down her flushed cheek. “I’ll be right back, sweetness.”
Jackson stopped him halfway to the refreshment table. Leachman’s right-hand man talked for a few minutes, concerned with the boldness of the Shadow’s daylight holdup.
Nathan answered his questions as best he could, but didn’t tell him about the cabin. He’d gone back to the Macky cabin the day after their picnic and found a black hat hidden in the wood box. Probably the same black hat the Shadow had stolen along with the half bag of gold. Since then, Nathan took to laying in wait inside the cabin from dusk to dawn, hoping the Shadow would return.
To say he was exhausted would be an understatement. But he’d promised Hannah he’d bring her to Loretta’s birthday party and so here they were. Even more exhausted than he could ever remember, he still enjoyed every minute with her.
He glanced toward the haybale where Hannah sat. Asa Kane stood talking to her, with a respectful distance between the two of them.
Kane had left Laramie a broke cowpoke a few years ago. He had recently returned with his pockets full of millions. Women flocked to him like bees to honey. From what Nathan saw, Kane only enjoyed a woman’s company temporarily. The man changed women like he changed socks.
With that thought, Nathan hurried to the punch bowl and filled two cups. When he turned around Hannah and Kane weren’t at the haybale. Anger rushed through him. That pig had better not have laid one finger on his Hannah.
Alarm raced up his spine. He searched for any glimpse of Hannah or Kane, barely keeping his panic in check. Finally, he spotted them on the dance floor.
Barreling through the party-goers, punch splashing over the rims of the cups, Nathan stopped at the edge of the dance floor. Kane held Hannah at arm’s length. Just a polite dance between two new friends.
So why was he still so angry?
Because some other man was touching his Hannah. He had never been a jealous person, bu
t the green-eyed monster had him by the throat this time.
Why Hannah? How could she provoke such emotion within him when other women hadn’t?
Why did he crave her laughter, her touch, her kisses?
When had Hannah gotten under his skin?
When had he fallen in love with Hannah Anderson?
Nathan gazed across the dance floor to Hannah. My, God, he thought, he’d found the woman he wanted to spent the rest of his life with.
* * *
Hannah glanced over at Nathan. He’d been extremely quiet on the way home. Had she angered him in some way? He’d seemed distracted when she and Mr. Kane had come back from their dance. Was he jealous?
Jealousy was a weak man’s vice. A man either trusted his woman or not. If that was his problem, he could stew in his own juices.
Nathan stopped the buggy in front of the Olsen’s Café then turned to face her. “Sweetness—”
“Nathan,” Hannah interrupted him, “It’s late and I have to work tomorrow.”
“Of course.” He leaned away from her, stepped out of the buggy and came around to her side of the rig to help her down. “Let me walk you to your door and then I’ll leave you to rest.”
She nodded, pulled out her key from her skirt pocket and handed it to him. Once at the top of the stairs, he unlocked her door and stepped back.
“I enjoyed the party. Thank you.” She raised onto her tip-toes with the intent to give him an innocent kiss goodnight. Once her lips touched his, desire overtook her. She needed his arms around her, his mouth over hers. She needed him.
She opened her mouth to him and immediately felt the velvety warmth of his tongue. Moaning, she wrapped her fingers around his neck and moved closer. Suddenly, his arms banded around her, pressing her breasts against his rock-hard chest.
When he pulled away from her, she murmured, “more,”
“No, sweetheart, not like this.”
Sanity finally dulled her haze of desire. She nodded. “Good night, lawman.”
“Goodnight, Sweetness.” Nathan clomped down the stairs. Once at the bottom, he turned and looked up. “We need to have a nice, long talk, but not tonight. Get some rest, darlin’.”
Chapter 10
Two nights later, Hannah grinned as she picked the pitiful lock on Leachman’s front door. Daddy always said, “Locks were only to keep an honest man honest.”
“That was too easy,” she mumbled from behind her black mask. Moving through the dark house, she made a bee-line for the study.
Less than thirty seconds later, she unlatched and opened the study’s window from the inside. One of the first lessons her daddy taught her was ‘never let yourself get cornered.’ If she couldn’t go out the way she came in, she’d have a second avenue of escape. She then opened the cabinet where Leachman kept his gold. Instead of shelves of gold stood a Keyser & Rex Cast Iron Safe.
Well, shoot, she thought. This wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d hoped. Why couldn’t Leachman have just tossed the gold into an ordinary cupboard? But no. He had to play dirty.
Not that she couldn’t open the safe. After all, she was the daughter of the best safe-cracker this side of the Mississippi. But still, she was probably a little rusty.
She removed her hat, tucked her hair-scarf behind her left ear then pressed her ear against the cold metal vault. It took three tries before the tumblers dropped into place. With a grunt, she opened the safe’s door.
Surprised, she stumbled backward, knocking a tintype of Loretta off of the corner of Leachman’s desk. No gold. But piles and piles of cash. A hundred times more than she expected to find.
If she took only half, which was her intention, of this much money, the law wouldn’t stop until they caught up with her. But if she did follow through with her plans and take half of what was there, Henrietta and the orphans wouldn’t have to worry about money for years.
Follow the plan. There’s a big goal at stake.
She’d reinvented herself once before. She could do it again if need be.
She gritted her teeth and unloaded the safe, half in her saddlebags and the other half stacked in the middle of Leachman’s desk.
The rattle of the study’s brass doorknob froze Hannah in place. She had to make a choice. Flee without the saddlebags that lay on the floor across the room or grab them and be trapped in the study with the intruder.
She wasn’t leaving without that money.
Quickly, she retrieved her hat and saddlebags, knowing she couldn’t reach the window in time. She faded into the corner shadows, only steps away from her back-up escape route.
Leachman opened the door. The weak light from the hallway illuminated the stacks of cash on his desk.
“What in the blue blazes?” Bart Leachman bellowed.
He stomped toward the money and reached for the lamp.
In her deepest, gruffest voice, she warned, “Don’t do that.”
“Damn it to hell!” he roared as he stepped toward her.
Panic swamped her. She hadn’t thought she’d be discovered so she hadn’t brought along her gun. If he got close enough to see that she was unarmed, he’d jump her. Her only hope was to bluff.
“Don’t make me use this,” she growled, doubling down on her ferocity.
Leachman froze. “What do you want?”
“Isn’t that obvious?” She nodded toward the stack of cash on his desk, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “I left you half.”
“Why half?” he asked, sounding more confused than intimidated now.
“There’s an envelope on top of the money. I’ll be back soon for your answer.”
When he turned around to light the lamp on the far corner of his desk, Hannah moved to the window. Half in, half out, she straddled the window sill, and warned, “Follow me and I’ll shoot you on sight.”
Then she swung her leg out of the window and darted away from the house. Saddlebags slung over her shoulder, she melted into the night’s darkness.
* * *
Even though it was mid-July, chilling night air seeped through the cracks in the old cabin walls. Nathan snuggled deeper into his jacket and sighed.
The last time he’d been at the cabin he’d placed a twig on the brim of the black hat hidden in the old wood-box. If someone had moved the hat, even an inch, he’d know. Tonight, the hat not only had been moved, but was gone. Which probably meant the Shadow was on the prowl. If things went Nathan’s way, the marauding thief would be eating his next breakfast in the Laramie Jail.
As time dragged by, his thoughts wandered to Hannah. His Hannah. His Sweetness. He never imagined he’d fall in love. Especially, with someone as mysterious as her. The way she so steadfastly held onto her independence, her privacy, was just one of the many things he loved about her. Yes, indeedy, live with Hannah Anderson would never be boring.
If she’d have him.
A horse nickered close by. Nathan jerked to attention. How had he let someone get so close to the cabin and him be unaware?
That’s a good way to get killed, he thought as he eased the hammer back on his pistol.
A moment later, the rickety door opened. A dark shape stepped inside and reached for the lantern hanging just inside the door. A matchhead flared then the wick took. Light pooled around the figure dressed in all black.
“Keep your hands where they are,” Nathan ordered, moving away from the cabin’s back wall into the circle of light. “Well, well, well. Look who we’ve have here.”
He slid his gaze over the small-built man. No side-arm, but a bulging saddlebag dangled from his left hand. “Real easy like, drop the saddle bags on the floor.”
The shadow did as he was told, not making any sudden moves.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
The small man slowly shook his head.
Nathan flicked his gun barrel toward the table. “Over there, away from the door.”
The Shadow didn’t move. His dark gaze flew toward the door then the bo
arded-up window and finally back to Nathan.
“Try it and I’ll shoot out your knee.” Nathan lowered his aim to the outlaw’s leg. “It’ll hurt like the dickens and you’ll limp the rest of your life but you’ll survive to do your time.”
He flicked his gun toward the table again. “Last time I’m gonna to tell you. Move away from the door.”
Nodding, the small man stepped to the table.
“Now sit in the chair and put your hands behind your back.”
The bandit did as he was told. Nathan noted the man’s hands shook something fierce.
Where were the man’s nerves of steel now? But then again, it took a lot less guts to hold a gun than to look down the barrel of one.
Nathan eased toward the chair, keeping one eye on his captive at all times. He circled around, pulled handcuffs from his back pocket and fastened the iron cuffs around the Shadow’s wrists.
Now that his prisoner was secure, curiosity got the best of him. He retrieved the saddlebags from the floor and tossed them onto the table. When he flipped opened the leather pouch, bundles of cash cascaded out onto the scarred tabletop. With a long, low whistle, he said, “You’ve been busy tonight.”
The Shadow didn’t answer. He sat stock still, his gloved hands clenched into fists.
Nathan cocked a questioning eyebrow. “Leachman’s, I presume.”
Again, no answer.
Nathan shrugged a shoulder and stepped closer to the Shadow. “Let’s see what you look like.”
The Shadow shook his head, lending backward as far as he could without tipping the chair over.
Nathan tossed the black hat off first, revealing a black scarf wrapped around the thief’s head. Laces of a full-face mask tied at the back of Shadow’s head, holding the leather covering and scarf in place.
Moving around to the Shadow’s back, he yanked on the lacing. Thin strips of black leather loosened under his insistent fingers. When the mask fell away from the Shadow’s face, Nathan stepped around to see who he’d revealed.