Love Finds You in Revenge, Ohio

by Lisa Harris

  Miss VanLeer pleaded with them. “Please, do what he says. He’ll kill me.”

  Corbin caught the woman’s terrified expression. He needed to keep Sutherland talking. “I’ve got the horse, but not the cash. That’ll take time.”

  “I don’t have time.”

  None of them did. If Sutherland was as weak as he looked, he’d end up dying before Corbin could get any information out of him. He needed him in custody, because without Sutherland, he’d be back at square one, a place he couldn’t afford to be.

  The sound of gunfire ripped through the mid-morning air. Corbin searched for the source. Robinson. Sutherland fired his weapon. Two more shots followed, then silence. Sutherland loosened his grip on his hostage and dropped to the ground.

  Robinson clutched his right leg. “I’m all right. Go see what you can get out of that no-good scoundrel before he dies.”

  “You shot him!” Corbin jumped up from his position and ran across the dirt yard toward the house. If the man was dead…

  “He’d have killed her and you know it,” Robinson shouted.

  “No. This didn’t have to happen. He was so weak, he was about to pass out.” Corbin knelt down beside Sutherland, ignoring the Sheriff’s excuses. Already a trail of crimson soaked through the outlaw’s white shirt and stained Corbin’s hands. The man let out a raspy breath of air. Corbin grasped Sutherland by the collar and raised him a couple of inches from the ground. This would be his only chance to get the truth. “Who’s behind the Masked Gang robberies?”

  “Why should I tell you?” The man’s throat gurgled as he choked on his own blood.

  “Why? Because I need the last act you do in this world to be decent.” Corbin shook him by the shoulders. Time was running out along with every lead he’d followed the past few months. “Tell me now.”

  “I need…doctor…”

  “It’s too late for a doctor, and I, for one, wouldn’t want to die with a string of cold-blooded murders on my conscience.”

  “It’s too…late…”

  “No!” Corbin tightened his grip. “Tell me, who is it?”

  Sutherland choked then slumped back onto the hard ground, mumbling something unintelligible.

  Corbin lowered his face toward the dying man’s. “What did you say?”

  “Har…Harrison Tucker. He’s…he’s who you want…but…”

  Corbin let the dying man drop back against the hard earth. A sick feeling washed over him as he watched Sutherland take his last breath. A vacant stare looked up at him. Whatever else he had to say had just been forever silenced, but Corbin now held the one piece of evidence he’d sought. He’d been right. Harrison was the leader of the Masked Gang. A bank robber, womanizer, and con man, all wrapped up in one package.

  Audrey’s world—as well as Catherine’s—was about to crumble.

  He wiped his bloodstained hands against the dusty earth. What was Catherine going to say when she heard the truth about Harrison?

  “Sheriff, please.” The choked words came from behind him. “My daughter.”

  Corbin jumped to his feet. Mr. VanLeer hovered over his daughter. Corbin searched her still body for signs she’d been shot, but saw nothing. “She’s fainted—”

  “No. She was hit in the crossfire.” He rolled her over onto her side to show Corbin what everyone had missed in the confusion. His heart pitched. Blood was seeping through the waistline of her dress. “Please, you’ve got to help her.”

  “Get your wagon hooked up. We’ve got to get her into town to see the doctor.” He signaled at the sheriff, who was nursing his injury across the yard. “We’ll get you patched up at the same time.”

  Corbin lifted the woman into his arms and headed for Mr. VanLeer’s wagon. How had this happened? Everything he’d prayed wouldn’t happen had just played out in front of him. He glanced down at Mary VanLeer’s lifeless form. If it wasn’t too late, they might be able to avoid another death, but he wasn’t sure that was possible. The body count was rising…and so was his thirst for revenge.

  “Is she going to make it?” The sheriff shuffled beside Corbin as they hurried toward the wagon.

  “I don’t know.”

  What he did know, though, was not only could this have been avoided, but that Catherine’s life was in danger. She’d wandered far too close into the circle of a murderer, and someone else was going to get hurt. It was time he put a stop to the senseless killings.

  Horace Baldwin slid a small bottle across the counter toward Catherine later that afternoon and grinned. “Miss Morgan. I think we’ve finally done it.” His beaming smile reached his eyes as he glanced at his brother, who stood beside him with a small bandage on his forehead. “Behold, Horace and Harold’s Effervescent Cold Remedy.”

  Harold cleared his throat. “Harold and Horace’s Effervescent Cold Remedy.”

  Horace nudged his brother with his elbow. “We haven’t done the label yet, but we thought you’d like to be the first one to see it.”

  “I’m honored.” I think. Catherine picked up the jar and opened it cautiously before taking a whiff. “It smells like…licorice.”

  “That would be one of our ingredients,” Horace said. “And what do you think about the bottle? Mr. O’Conner sold it to us. He promised us as many as we need.”

  “For a small price, of course,” Harold added.

  Catherine held up the jar, wishing Corbin would walk in the door and let her know he was all right. At least the Baldwin twins and their latest experiment was a distraction. “What exactly is inside the jar?”

  “Vaseline, a bit of camphor, eucalyptus, licorice extract—”

  “And our secret ingredient.”

  “Which is?”

  Horace leaned forward. “We can’t tell you, of course.”

  “It’s a secret,” Harold added. “How many do you want to purchase? You know, as our favorite customer, you will get a reduced price.”

  Catherine coughed. “How…thoughtful of you.”

  “You can resell them for a profit, of course.”

  “I see.” Catherine pressed her lips together. “May I ask you a question, Mr. Baldwin?”

  “Anything, Miss Morgan,” Harold said.

  “I was simply wondering why your forehead is bandaged. “

  Harold glanced at his brother. “Oh, that.”

  “Yes. Does it have anything to do with your cold remedy?”

  “No—”

  Harold dropped his gaze. “Horace, I told you we couldn’t lie to Miss Morgan.”

  “What happened?” Catherine asked again.

  “It was the last batch of cold remedy,” Harold began. “Not this one, of course.”

  “And it’s not serious,” Horace continued. “Just a few blisters.”

  “Nothing serious at all,” Harold repeated.

  Nothing serious? Right. This wasn’t the first time the twin’s cold remedy had come with questionable results. One formula had exploded, while another had burned off the top layer of skin.

  “I’ll make a deal with you,” Catherine said.

  The two brothers leaned forward. “You continue working on your Magical…Effervescent…Cold Remedy.”

  “Horace and Harold’s Effervescent Cold Remedy,” Horace said.

  “And once you have a formula that doesn’t burn, or explode, or…dye the skin blue, I’ll promise to consider it again. Why don’t you go help yourself to a handful of penny candy? On the house.”

  “Catherine?” Lily signaled Catherine from the switchboard.

  Catherine bid Horace and Harold good day, then slipped into the back room. She pressed her hand against her chest and whispered to her sister. “Your timing couldn’t be more perfect. Horace and Harold are trying to sell me their latest invention.”

  “At least it didn’t explode this time.”

  Catherine laughed. “You have a point.”

  “There’s a phone call for you. It’s Mr. Peterson.”

  Catherine frowned. “Is something wron
g?”

  “He won’t tell me anything. Insists on speaking only to you.”

  Catherine hurried to the phone. “Mr. Peterson, how are you?”

  “Fine, thank you. I promised I would look into that matter we spoke of earlier.”

  Catherine lowered her voice. “Please, go ahead.”

  “I found out something interesting you might want to know.”

  Catherine frowned as she scribbled a few notes on the back of the ledger before hanging up. There was only one thing left to do. It was time she had a talk with Harrison herself.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Catherine approached Harrison’s saltbox farmhouse on the outskirts of town, knowing she was blatantly ignoring Corbin’s warnings of not getting involved in his investigation If he would have made an ounce of progress in the past couple weeks, she might think differently, but he’d yet to find any real proof of Harrison’s guilt—or innocence. And time was running out. More than likely, his trek to find one of the bank robbers—like every other lead he’d followed—would prove to be nothing other than a dead end.

  With her sister’s life at stake, taking things into her own hands seemed to be the only logical thing to do. If Harrison proved to be guilty, as Mr. Peterson’s phone call implied, she wouldn’t stand in the way of his arrest, but neither would she break her sister’s heart needlessly. She had to know the truth for herself. And to get to the truth, she had to get Harrison to talk—whether he was the face on the Wells Fargo wanted poster or not.

  She fingered the Colt hidden in the folds of her skirt. Her father might have failed as a father in a number of ways, but he had taught her to hit a target as well as most men she knew. Letting out a slow breath, she sent up an extra prayer for courage. Something that was irrefutably missing at the moment.

  Swallowing any doubts of her mission, she turned her attention to the house that had been built three generations ago by Randall Tucker. Fresh paint and a few repairs had gone a long way. It was hard not to be impressed with the amount of work Harrison had put into the place. But a well-kept place did nothing to prove one’s innocence.

  Harrison crouched on the shaded eastern side of the barn, repairing a loose board. Clad in a white band-collared shirt, tan cotton trousers, and a pair of suspenders, he looked the part of a farmer. Of course, if Corbin was right about him, that was all Harrison was doing. Playing a role.

  “Good morning, Harrison.”

  “Catherine?” Harrison stood before lifting his hat. “I didn’t hear you coming. This is an unexpected surprise.”

  Catherine shielded her face to block the afternoon sun. “I’m sorry to disturb you.”

  “You almost missed me. I was getting ready to head out to one of the fields. Need to repair some fencing on the west side before it gets dark.” Harrison dropped his hammer into a bucket, then slapped off a layer of dust from his trousers before approaching the buggy. “Is Audrey all right?”

  “Of course. She’s fine.”

  “Good. I just…” He shrugged a shoulder. “I just assumed if you came by, whatever you needed to speak to me about would have something to do with her, or the wedding.”

  “The wedding?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Audrey wouldn’t be the first woman to have second thoughts about the man she’s going to marry, and I know that I can be a bit—”

  “You don’t have anything to worry about. Audrey loves you.”

  From outside appearances, it was clear why Audrey wanted to marry the man. He was handsome, thoughtful, always a gentleman. All characteristics of a womanizing con man. Catherine reeled in her thoughts—for Audrey’s sake.

  “You’ve really taken to farming.”

  “I guess it’s in my blood. Both my grandfather and greatgrandfather farmed this land. Though I have to say that I never imagined I’d follow in their footsteps.”

  Catherine eyed a squawking hen with her brood in tow as they ran from the shelter of the barn. “From all your stories, you do seem more the adventurous type than say a…a farmer.” She studied his expression. Was that a sign of guilt on his face?

  Harrison rested his hands on his hips. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “I promise not to take up much of your time, but I do need to speak with you.”

  Harrison pulled his hat back on. “I suppose I could take a few minutes, though I do need to head out soon. I’ve got quite a bit of work left to finish, and it won’t be long before the sun sets.”

  Catherine tried not to read anything into his hesitation. She wanted him to be innocent, but even more so, she wanted to find out the truth—because the evidence Corbin had that connected Harrison to the Masked Gang was hard to ignore. She glanced out across the endless rows of wheat to the east. Quiet. Solitude. The Tucker farm was fifteen minutes from town…and off the main road. Catherine drew in a quick breath as her gaze traveled back to the corner of the barn wall where a Winchester lay propped up. She rested her finger on the trigger, prepared to make the first move if necessary. If Harrison really was William Marker, she’d likely just walked into a peck of trouble.

  “The place looks fantastic.” She worked to keep her voice steady. “Audrey told me you’ve been putting a lot of time into it.”

  “This year’s crops are doing well, and the house is livable.”

  “Your grandfather would be proud of you.”

  “I’m guessing that my farm isn’t the reason you came by.”

  Catherine studied a crease in her skirt, as second thoughts resurfaced. “No.”

  “So what is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

  Catherine hesitated. “I’m not sure exactly how to begin.”

  She lifted up a short prayer that God would forgive her for going ahead with her unconventional plan. A confession from Harrison that he’d never set foot in Alaska was the final proof she needed, but confronting the man straight out seemed far too risky. Which meant if the Good Lord had a better way to handle the situation, He was going to have to speak up now.

  Harrison drummed his fingers against his legs and shifted his gaze to the ground. “I suppose the beginning tends to be the best place.”

  “All right then.” She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “I’m considering going to Alaska.”

  “Alaska?” Harrison’s eyes widened. “You’re not serious, are you?”

  Catherine plunged ahead with her plan—one that suddenly sounded anything but rational. “I know I’m not the first woman to consider heading west to seek out a bit of adventure.”

  Harrison sat quiet for a moment. “You’re serious?”

  “It’s simply a business proposition I’ve been thinking about. I have experience with numbers and selling, and I’m considering a change of scenery.” Which at the moment was at least partly true. While Alaska might not be at the top of her list, there were certainly days when she considered going away for a while. Lily wasn’t the only one in the family who’d ever considered seeing life outside of Revenge.

  “But your family is here. I guess I never saw you as the adventurous type.”

  Catherine chose to ignore the comment. “With Audrey getting married and Lily not far behind her, I’ve fulfilled my promise to my mother to raise my sisters. I’ve always wanted to see more of the world, and since you are obviously familiar with the terrain, I thought you’d be the perfect person to talk to.”

  It wasn’t a lie. Not really. The thought had crossed her mind at least twice. Once while reading one of Emily’s dime novels about the West, and another time when she’d heard Harrison tell a story about Mabel Mason, who had opened a general store for a bunch of prospectors and returned home with a fortune a year later.

  “Why Alaska?”

  “You seem surprised.”

  “I hate to disappoint you, Miss Morgan, but I don’t believe that the Wild West is the place for a lady of your…your position.”

  Catherine tried to read his expression. Caution? Intrigue? Or perhaps he simply wa
nted to discourage her. Of course, reading the expressions of a storyteller like Harrison was, more than likely, going to prove to be quite challenging.

  She pressed her hands together. “What do you mean, a lady of my position?”

  Harrison tugged on the open collar of his shirt. “While this can’t be said for all the women who live on the frontier, many of them have…sordid reputations.”

  “I’ve heard there are women who have invested in the gold mines.” Catherine plunged ahead in their defense. “And that doesn’t include those who run perfectly respectable businesses that help society. If I’m not mistaken, there’s always a need for good food when there are hungry men around.”

  “Of course, but you must understand that those women are few and far between. And without a husband, I’m afraid…”

  So they were back, once again, to the state of her unmarried bliss.

  “And there’s always the very real possibility that you’d never find gold,” Harrison continued.

  “That is a risk I’d have to take.”

  “Do your sisters know about this?”

  “I felt it important to gather more information before I made a decision.”

  Harrison’s gaze flickered toward the horizon. Perhaps he was praying for a rescue. But Catherine hadn’t gotten what she’d come for yet.

  “Why are you asking me all these questions?”

  Catherine frowned. Wasn’t it obvious? “Because you’ve been there and you know what it’s like.”

  “There are challenges,” he continued. “Both physical and emotional. You can’t imagine how much time and preparation it takes for a trip like this.”

  “All things I’m quite prepared for. I simply thought you could recommend a town for me to set up a store as well as the best place to stake a gold claim.”

  Harrison’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “You want to set up a store and invest in a claim?”

  “I have managed to save up a bit of a nest egg. Not a huge one, of course, but enough, I believe, to get me started, and from what I understand, there’s plenty of need for supplies.”