“Maybe if Stiles finally saw his boy in action, he’d realize his mistake in promoting him.”
Hawk laughed. “That’s optimism, even for you. When has Stiles ever admitted to making a mistake?”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Moses said. “Sometimes you have to have a little faith that people will do the right thing.”
Hawk clapped him on the back. “You’ll just have to have enough faith for the both of us because I gave mine up a long time ago.”
“Oh, I pray for you every night, you can be assured of that. You might think the world has done you wrong, and maybe you’re right. But God knows your pain, and He hasn’t given up on you.”
He gave Moses a jerky nod to acknowledge his friend’s good wishes because even though Hawk didn’t believe them for a minute, he knew that Moses did and that Moses meant well. He’d had enough people wish him ill in life that he did his best to acknowledge the kindness he received when he received it.
After giving further instructions to Moses, Hawk rode into Noelle, pushing Big Mac harder than he would have liked, but grateful for the horse’s loyalty in allowing him to do so. When he got to the boarding house, it was so quiet, he wouldn’t have been able to tell that anything had gone on. Except, as he dismounted and walked along the property, broken glass crunched under his feet.
He couldn’t understand the kind of hate that would drive such a crime. Yes, the railroad’s delay had hurt a lot of people. But why would anyone take it out on innocent women when the so-called culprit was dead? He supposed people felt cheated out of the opportunity for a showdown. But had they been able to face Joe, they would have gotten to hear the whole story and realized that Joe wasn’t involved.
A figure came out of the shadows, carrying a shotgun. He saw the tip of the gun first, so he drew his pistol.
“I don’t want any trouble,” he said. “But you need to know that if you’re here because you intend harm to the Crearys, I’ve got a bullet with your name on it.”
“Hawk?”
Rosalind. He’d drawn on Rosalind. “I’m sorry,” he said, holstering his gun. “I heard there was trouble here today, so I wanted to come see for myself. It wasn’t expecting you to be here.”
She loosened her grip on the gun as she stepped forward. “I heard some of the men talking about torching the place, but Sheriff Draven is tracking down a lead on some other case or something like that. Pearl, his wife, is a nice enough woman, but she’s terrible when it comes to giving any reliable information about the sheriff.”
Hawk stepped closer to her. “And Gant? Where is he?”
Rosalind looked at him blankly. “Who knows? No one’s seen him for a couple of days, and even if he was around, what good would he do? As far as I can tell, he’s the most useless lawman I’ve ever seen.”
Hawk bit back a laugh. Gant wasn’t a bad lawman, but his own prejudice against the man would keep him from admitting it.
“That’s right,” she said. “I’d forgotten that you worked with him. Just how can a man be that incompetent and keep his badge?”
Hawk shook his head. This was definitely not the conversation he needed to have right now. And yet, seeing the way the moonlight reflected off Rosalind’s eyes, he’d take just about any excuse to continue talking to her.
“There are some who prefer his more subtle style,” Hawk said. “I personally think he wastes a lot of time, but in the end, he always seems to get the job done.”
“Except in catching your wife’s murderer,” Rosalind said softly. I thought about that a lot, how you have never given up, even though I imagine you must feel pretty discouraged at times. How is that investigation coming?”
He stared at her, trying to read her expression in the dim moonlight. “You’re standing outside your damaged boarding house with a shotgun to fend off intruders, and you’re worried about how things are going with my wife’s case?”
Rosalind gave a slight shrug. “I’m just wondering how you’re balancing it all. Gant might be inefficient, but he does like to talk. He says you’re a good man but obsessed with finding the killer. I just wonder how, if you’re trying to do your job and carry on your obsession with your wife’s murderer, where do you have time to find the man who killed my father?”
He supposed he deserved her accusations, but her lack of faith in him was not based on fact, or anything he had done, but solely on the tainted words of Bad Luck Chuck. He’d have liked to have told her that, but it didn’t seem to be the right thing to say. Anymore, Hawk didn’t know what to say when it came to Rosalind. As much as he wanted to try to deny his feelings for her, he couldn’t deny they had a connection. The only person he ever trusted with his investigation was Moses, but he felt safe in trusting her. And that scared him.
“I haven’t had any new leads in two years,” he said. “There’s a man I know who can get me some of the information that I’ll need, but the price is dear. I’ve been saving up to give him the money he wants. If the railroad had gotten to Noelle in time, the bonus would have been enough to cover it. So now I’m back to square one, needing to make money and hoping it’s not too late.”
Rosalind reached forward and touched his arm. “I’m sorry for accusing you. Everyone says you’re blindly driven by your need for justice.”
Her hand felt warm against his skin. He should have pulled away, but he didn’t. Instead, he placed his hand over hers, an acknowledgment of the comfort she was offering. “I am still driven by justice. A good man is dead, and his family is suffering. I can’t stand idly by and let whoever did this get away with it. My friend Moses says that it’s for God to decide, and maybe he’s right. But I can’t just do nothing in the meantime.”
Rosalind gave him a soft smile. “I can’t say that I’ve ever seen you do anything resembling being idle.”
He liked her smile. It was pretty enough, but it was more than that. When Rosalind smiled, he knew she meant it. It wasn’t one of those vague feminine expressions that could have meant anything to anyone and often did not mean something nice. Or at least left you guessing as to what was really meant. Rosalind was who she said she was and made no apologies for it. Almost a female version of himself, only softer, sweeter, and less jaded.
“I suppose sleep is the closest I get to it,” he said, reminding himself that he wasn’t supposed to be admiring her or giving her a reason to like him back.
“But sleep is a form of industry,” she said. “After all, resting your body is what gives you the strength to carry on.”
It shouldn’t have surprised him that she had an intelligent response, and it wasn’t so much a surprise as an annoyance. He also wasn’t supposed to want to prolong the conversation. It wasn’t even so much of a conversation. They were talking about nonsense, nothing of import.
And yet he didn’t want it to end.
“I’m sure you’re right,” he said. “Now tell me about what happened here today.”
The change in her expression told him he’d been more abrupt than he’d intended in changing the subject. He felt bad for having wounded her, but it was for the best. He couldn’t be what she needed him to be. So it made no sense for him to make any effort between them.
“I was at the back of the house, helping Jane stain the boards for protection against the weather. We only had a few minutes before we had to leave so I could get to work at Nacho’s.”
He’d heard she had taken a job. He was glad there were some people in town who accepted her and treated her like she belonged. It gave him comfort to know that even though he couldn’t be here for her, there were people in her life, in this town, who cared about her. Despite all the bad things that had been happening in Noelle, Hawk had to admit that if he had plans to settle somewhere, he wouldn’t mind settling somewhere just like here.
“I heard a strange crash, and at first, I thought it must’ve been the wind. But when I rounded the corner, I saw them. Three men. Drunk and laughing, they were throwing rocks at the windows th
at were propped up against the house, ready to be installed. I yelled for them to stop, but of course, they didn’t. They called my sister and me foul names, and even though I should be used to it by now, it seemed so much more degrading than usual. Maybe it was because they were walking toward us while speaking those things. So we ran, all the way back to Hugh’s.”
He’d already been angry, knowing what happened. But seeing the pain on Rosalind’s face somehow made it worse. He could feel the same rage that had boiled up in him when his wife had been shot, leading him to kill five men.
Even though he’d sworn his vendetta to kill the last of them, there was a part of him that didn’t want any more blood on his hands. But if not his, then whose? These two women didn’t deserve the way they were being treated, they didn’t deserve to have their father murdered, and Hawk didn’t know how else to stop it.
“Did you get enough of a look at them that you would recognize them if you saw them again?” he asked, trying to maintain his composure and calm the rising storm inside him.
“I don’t know them. And I might recognize them again, I’m not sure. It all happened so fast,” she said.
“If you happen to see someone who looks familiar in town, see if you can get a name for me. I don’t want you investigating, per se, but if you happen to run across someone, I’d like to know about it.”
Her face brightened a little, and even though it made him feel good to see her looking less dejected, he didn’t like how it made him feel inside. Pain and regret gnawed at him, wishing he could be part of her life in a more meaningful way, but knowing his mission was far more important.
“I’ve been trying. That’s part of why I’m working at Nacho’s. Fina and I have been making a list of guests who might be potential suspects. I’ve been hoping you’d come back and stay long enough to go over the list together.”
He pulled his hat off his head and ran his fingers through his hair, resisting the urge to swear. On the one hand, he admired her ingenuity, but on the other, he didn’t want her putting herself in danger. The longer he was involved in this case, the more he realized that whoever was behind it all, pulling the strings, wasn’t stupid.
What happened when that person figured out that Rosalind was trying to take him down?
“While I applaud your desire to help, I have to ask you to stop. These people are dangerous, Rosalind, and if what happened here today wasn’t enough evidence of that, what happens if they figure out that you are more actively investigating them? Your father was killed, and based on what I do know, I’m certain it was because he was trying to stop whoever it was. You don’t think they won’t kill you?”
Instead of looking concerned, the wounded expression returned to her face. “You’re taking the same risk, why can’t I?”
“Because I’m trained to take those risks. Have you ever fired a gun? Do you know what to do if someone is pointing a gun at you? If a man comes and grabs you, do you know how to get away?”
She didn’t have to answer the question, it was written all over her face. The reason all of these things were terrifying to her was because she didn’t know how to defend herself. Even when she came after him with the shotgun, he could tell by the way her hand shook, she wasn’t sure what she was doing.
“If I had been someone with bad intentions toward you, and you’d come at me the way you did just a little bit ago, I would have very easily been able to disarm you, if not kill you.”
Her chin wavered like she hadn’t thought through her actions, even though she probably had, at least as far as she was able.
“I can’t just do nothing,” she said. And in her anguish, he heard a little bit of himself, fighting with Gant over waiting to go after the men who’d ended up killing his wife.
As much as he hated to admit it, maybe he was more like Gant than he thought. He’d cursed Gant’s high handedness and shutting him out and telling him to be patient. What if Gant had told him more about his investigation? What if Gant had taken more time to lay out what he was trying to do? Maybe the outcome would’ve been different, or maybe it would have been the same, but maybe he and Gant would still be a team.
“You’re right,” Hawk said softly. “And I’m sorry for setting you up with that unrealistic expectation. The thing that hurt the most with my wife’s death was that I felt shut out and helpless. I just realized that I must be doing that to you.”
He grabbed Big Mac’s reins and started in Rosalind’s direction. “Let’s get him out back, unsaddled, and situated. Do you have a place where I can keep him?”
“We were anticipating most of our guests coming via train. And even though the livery isn’t far, we do have a small barn out back. For now, it’s storing all of our supplies, but there should be room for your horse.”
A movement behind Hawk caused him to turn. Draven.
“It’s about time you showed up,” Hawk said.
Draven shot him a dirty look. “There was trouble at one of the neighboring ranches. I got here as fast as I could. There’s only one of me, and I’m doing the best I can.”
“I’m sorry,” Hawk said. “I didn’t mean to accuse you. I’m just frustrated at how long this has gone on, and how it seems the violence against this family is escalating. Do you have any leads?”
The blank look on Draven’s face told him that he didn’t. It was likely the same as it had always been, that even when they thought they had a suspect, the suspect had too many alibis to be able to do anything.
Hawk nodded slowly. “Given the trouble that’s going on here, I’m going to put my horse in the barn, and spend the night in the boarding house. At least someone will be here tonight if they choose to come back.”
“But it’s not done yet,” Rosalind said. “With the windows not in, the night air goes right through it, and it gets quite cold. I’d intended to spend the night, but just as you arrived, I was debating going back to Hugh’s to be warm.”
A dejected look crossed her face. “I suppose you’re right about me. I do a lot of stupid things because I think I should be doing something. But what good is it if I freeze to death, thinking I’m protecting the place?”
Even though he regretted the way his words had hurt her, he was glad that she was at least starting to see sense. “I’m used to sleeping out in the cold. You go home to Hugh, and I’ll stay here. Draven can help me take a look around.”
Rosalind squared her shoulders. “I’d like to come with you, if that’s all right. I can tell you what happened and show you what’s going on.”
The last thing he wanted to do was spend more time with Rosalind. But it was the right thing to do, given everything that had gone on between them. He owed her a way to feel like she was involved, especially because it was clear it would be the only way he could keep her safe.
They took the horse to the barn, and even though Draven followed, Hawk could feel the other man’s watchful eyes on him. He was probably worried that Hawk was going to go off and do something stupid, like shoot up a saloon until he had answers. That might have been a tactic Hawk had tried in the past. And even though Hawk could claim some success from that particular endeavor, it had earned him a night in the local jail, and right now, he needed to be here for Rosalind’s family.
Or, maybe he was a little more like Gant than he’d realized. Hawk shook his head, trying to clear himself of such a ludicrous thought. It was more likely Moses’s influence, and that advice he could live with.
Once he got his horse put away, Rosalind took them to where she and her sister had been working when the attacks came.
Hawk and Draven stood in the spots where she’d indicated she and Jane had been standing. Hawk inclined his head in the direction of the road heading out of town. “They had to have come from that way. Otherwise, Rosalind and Jane would have seen them coming.”
Draven nodded slowly. “There aren’t any saloons in that direction. If they were drunk, how could they have come upon the boarding house after imbibing?”
“They would’ve had to have come from the railroad camp,” Hawk said, realizing that the camp was where the news had traveled to, and so quickly. Given that today was Wednesday, and they were working so hard to catch up, none of the men, at least not those who wanted to complete the railroad on time, would’ve had the opportunity to go into town get the news, and bring it back.
“You think it was one of the railroad workers?” Draven asked. “You have a list of who worked today?”
Hawk nodded slowly. “Every single man checked in today. But that doesn’t mean someone didn’t slip away. I’ll ask around, see if anyone noticed someone not working as they were supposed to.”
Though anymore, he wasn’t sure he would get answers. People were tired of him asking around about the vandalism, and he’d heard whispers of people not talking to him just for the sake of being contrary. Or, more like, they were upset that he was still quietly investigating Joe’s death.
It bothered him that so many men were upset at him finding out the truth over what happened. Why weren’t more of them concerned that a potential murderer was among them? That even though they thought they had their man, there were still a lot of unanswered questions, ones that if asked, would make them all realize that none of them were safe.
But, he supposed there was a certain safety in ignorance, where keeping your head down and not asking questions meant survival. The question was, was there a specific someone they were afraid of, or the general unknown? He hadn’t heard any names, which made him think that the railroad workers were scared, too scared to point their finger in any one direction in case they were right or were getting too close. Valid fears, considering Hawk was a trained lawman, and he was still no closer to answers than he’d been when Joe died.
But that was exactly why whoever was doing this needed to be caught. The levels these men were willing to stoop to meant that anyone who stood in their way, even accidentally, would lose their life. But since no one knew what these criminals were really after or why, it meant that there were no safe places and no safe activities. Everyone was in danger.
Rosalind: A Thanksgiving Day Bride (Brides of Noelle Book 8) Page 10