Opening the wanted posters, he stared at the images, read their crimes and noted the rewards before passing them to Sam. He did the same before handing them to Seth and Alex.
Brodie leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk. “Do these two men work together?”
Colt shook his head. “Not that we know about. Everett Hunt does whatever he can to avoid violence, while Andrés Delgado thrives on savagery and death.”
Seth handed Brodie the posters, a brow lifting. “The Outlaw Doc?”
“Hunt is a doctor. He grew up in Georgia. Got a medical degree and was a Confederate surgeon during the war. Afterward, he made his way to the gold fields out here. From what my captain learned, he couldn’t make a go of it and tried gambling. Hunt couldn’t make a living at that, either.”
Sam rubbed his jaw. “So he became a highwayman.”
Colt nodded. “He goes by Ev Hunt, but the reporters call him the Outlaw Doc. I guess it sells more newspapers.” His mouth twisted in disgust. “I heard there are dime novels written about him. He prefers to work alone, but does sometimes bring in others. They target lone riders, stages, and wagons moving ore from the mines.”
“Is he successful at not hurting his victims?” Alex asked.
Colt shrugged. “Mostly.”
Seth narrowed his gaze. “Mostly?”
“He will kill if those he robs don’t cooperate or if they pull a weapon. Once in a while, he does a job for someone else.”
Brodie tilted his head. “Such as?”
“Similar to a gun for hire, except Hunt doesn’t complete the contract with a gun. Because of his medical knowledge, he uses other methods.”
Sam nodded. “Methods that would be harder to track.”
Colt’s mouth twisted. “He’s highly intelligent. Believes he can get away with most anything. So far, he has.”
Standing, Seth walked to the stove, refilling his cup. “What about Andrés Delgado?”
“He’s a little more of a mystery. Delgado prefers going after lone travelers, especially those coming off a winning streak in the saloons. The man has no problem killing or maiming, and that includes women.”
“Children?” Brodie asked.
“Not that I’ve heard. People don’t turn him in because he has a habit of sharing his take with those in need. He’s been quoted as saying ‘Take from the rich and give to the poor.’ My captain says Delgado sees himself as the man in the legend.”
Brodie chuckled. “Aye. Ma used to tell us stories of Robin Hood. Colin, Quinn, Blaine, and the other lads couldn’t get enough.” Sobering, he fixed his gaze on Colt. “You’re thinking Delgado is in the area?”
Colt nodded. “Makes sense. He has a sister in Conviction.”
Brodie arched a brow. “Ach. You could’ve started with that information, lad.” Standing, he walked around the desk to rest a hip against the edge. “Who’s his sister?”
Colt smirked. “Maria Smith.”
Brodie glanced at the others, seeing no sign of recognition. “Are you sure she lives here?”
“Or close by. Do you know of any Smiths in the area?” Colt asked.
Sam stood, stretching his arms above his head. “There’s a passel of Smiths all through the gold region. Men doing their best to get away from their families, outlaws trying to hide. I’d guess there must be a couple hundred between Sacramento and Settlers Valley. I don’t know how many live around Conviction.”
Colt looked at Brodie. “We need to identify all those within ten miles.”
Alex picked up the posters, scanning them once more. “Why is locating the sister so important?”
Pushing up from his chair, Colt pursed his lips. “Because Delgado and his sister are close. If anyone gets any of his take, it’s her. And he always delivers the money in person.”
Chapter Three
Bay swung down from Spartacus, placing a hand on the saddle to steady himself as he hit the ground. He grimaced as waves of nausea doubled him over. Never had he experienced such disagreeable effects after imbibing in too much whiskey. Not even during the days following Suzette’s betrayal when he’d almost lived on the amber liquid.
Straightening, he rubbed his temples to relieve the relentless pounding. It had plagued him since waking that morning and showed no sign of subsiding.
Bay hadn’t planned to be gone most of the day when he rode out of the corral. All he wanted was an hour or two to clear his head, making certain Suzette couldn’t find him if she did intend to sign the papers.
A wry chuckle burst from his lips. She’d offered what he’d wanted for a long time, yet instead of staying in town, obtaining her signature, he’d chosen to put distance between them.
Bay didn’t understand his actions and had no intention of taking time today to figure them out. Not with his brain functioning at the pace of thick molasses, his stomach roiling like the Pacific Ocean. It had been years since her actions had torn them apart. A few more days or weeks wouldn’t make any difference.
He stared at the land before him. The MacLaren ranch, Circle M, stretched for miles in all directions. Their property touched the Feather River in places, but they’d never expanded across the water’s edge. He’d always wondered why, never feeling the urge to ask his friends.
Instead, they’d purchased a vast amount of land to the north, which included several existing ranches. Blaine MacLaren had been selected as foreman of the property near Settlers Valley, along with help from Heather MacLaren Stewart and her husband, Caleb. A few months ago, Heather and Caleb became the parents of a baby boy, Joshua.
Bay’s jaw clenched at the thought of how many MacLarens near his age were marrying, having children. He and Suzette had often spoken of starting a family, deciding to wait until he hung up his guns for good.
She wanted at least three children. Bay had always told her he’d be happy to oblige. They’d laughed about his eagerness to please her, which she’d always responded to by saying he was just eager to find his own pleasure. Bay had never denied it. Suzette had given him incredible pleasure, in every sense of the word. More than he’d ever expected or deserved.
Leaning down, Bay pulled a stem of sourgrass from the ground, chewing on the bright yellow flowers. A somewhat bitter taste filled his mouth as he walked along the top of the hill, his thoughts still on Suzette and the life they’d once shared.
Again, her words popped into his head. “Not once have I betrayed you.” Six words that took hold, clawing at his memory of the night he’d walked in on her and Calvan.
Tossing the sourgrass aside, he massaged the back of his neck, his mind in turmoil. He no longer knew what to believe. Nor could he clearly recall the haunting vision which had plagued him for years. Those six words had torn through him, making him doubt himself and what he’d seen. Or thought he’d seen.
“But I did see it,” he ground out as a fresh wave of frustration gripped his chest.
Unable to think over the pounding in his head, he swung into the saddle. Reining Spartacus toward town, Bay took the trail back at a slow pace, not quite ready to return to his office or the beautiful house he’d built next door to August.
For all the fancy fixtures and expensive furnishings, it had never filled his need for a true home. A place he looked forward to returning to each night. Instead, it had become a large wooden tomb where he slept and sometimes ate. It had never become a home, and he had serious doubts it ever would be.
Suzette couldn’t keep herself from watching the front door of the restaurant. She alternated between wanting to see Bay and hoping he wouldn’t show for supper as he did most nights. Their discussion a few days before hadn’t gone well, leaving her with an intense sense of defeat.
He hated her. The thought caused a familiar ball of ice to form in her stomach. She’d hoped at some point, after enough time had passed, he’d listen to her side. Their heated discussion revealed he never intended to hear her out. The realization cut deep, dashing all her hopes for finding a reconciliation someda
y. She now knew whatever they’d once had was over.
Suzette had gone by his office each day since they’d argued, but he’d been otherwise occupied or gone. This morning, exasperated and ready to accept the futility of hoping their marriage could be saved, she’d asked Jasper to request Bay give him the papers. Tomorrow, she’d steel her resolve, return to his office, and end the pain of the last few years.
Hearing the door open, laughter coming from those who entered, Suzette turned to see Bay walk in with one more in an ongoing stream of beautiful women. Each time it felt as if he’d plunged a knife into her chest. Rather than moving toward them, she turned to one of the servers.
“Please seat Mr. Donahue and his guest.”
The young man didn’t hide his surprise. It had become common practice for Suzette to seat Bay, August, and the MacLarens. All owned a percentage of the hotel and restaurant, and all were her bosses.
“Are you sure, ma’am?”
Suzette shot him a bemused look before turning toward the kitchen. “Completely.” She didn’t glance into the dining room, already knowing how Bay would react.
Hiding in the kitchen wouldn’t accomplish anything except time to deal with the anger. Of course he found time to escort another stunning woman around Conviction when he couldn’t spare ten minutes for her.
“Miss Gasnier?” The young server came through the door, concern etched on his face.
“Yes?”
He licked his lips, glancing at the kitchen staff, then back at her. “Mr. Donahue insists you attend to his needs.”
Anger flared at the obvious intent to humiliate her. “Attend to his needs?”
Looking down at the floor, he nodded. “Yes, ma’am. He and his guest refuse to take a table unless you seat them.”
She gripped her hands in front of her, fighting the urge to storm into the dining room and tell him to go to hell. If only August had returned from Sacramento. He wouldn’t allow Bay to treat her this way. August would be gracious, a concept Bay had never embraced.
The young man shuffled from one foot to the other. “What should I tell him?”
Knowing she had no choice, Suzette accepted defeat. “I’ll attend to him.”
Leaving the kitchen, she stiffened her spine, forcing a smile as she strolled slowly around tables to the front door. Approaching them, Suzette looked between the two, her resolve slipping.
The woman was stunning. Sleek black hair coiled into an intricate chignon, finished with a gold clip adorned with pearls. The royal blue gown fit her curves to perfection, even if it did seem a little out of place in Conviction. Her ivory complexion complemented oval, chocolate brown eyes, which were locked on Bay’s face. Suzette tried to ignore the way her arm was tucked through his in an obvious possessive gesture. The thought of them together sickened her, as it had with every woman he’d flaunted. As always, Suzette ignored the twisting in her gut, the stab to her heart.
“Good evening, Mr. Donahue. Apologies for not being here to greet you immediately, but there was a slight, well…problem in the kitchen.” Her sugary voice wasn’t lost on Bay, who didn’t hide his irritation. “If you’ll please follow me.” She stopped at his usual table. “Here you are.”
Suzette waited as Bay pulled out a chair for his guest, then made a decision she knew wouldn’t bode well for her future at the restaurant. Looking at the woman, she cocked her head, as if studying her.
“I thought I knew all of Bay’s women, but I don’t believe we’ve met.” Suzette smiled sweetly. “I’m Suzette Donahue. And you are?”
The woman gasped, her gaze shifting between Bay and Suzette. “Donahue? Are you two related?”
Suzette looked at him. “Don’t tell me you haven’t told your latest paramour of our relationship, Bay.”
The woman’s face flushed, eyes flashing. She glared at Bay. “Paramour?”
“I see my husband didn’t tell you he’s married. He often does forget such trivialities.” Glancing at Bay, Suzette felt a rush of satisfaction at the way his nostrils flared and jaw clenched. “Would you care for wine?”
“Excuse me.” The woman stood, her hostile gaze directed at Bay. “I’ll find my supper somewhere else tonight, Mr. Donahue.” She stormed away, not waiting for his response.
Bursting to his feet, Bay took Suzette’s arm, guiding her away from the other diners before rounding on her. “What the hell are you doing?”
Refusing to cower, she pulled her arm free. “Only stating the truth, which is what I should’ve done the first time you brought one of your lovers in here.” Crossing her arms, she scowled at him. “I’ve decided to no longer hide the fact we’re married, Bay. If you don’t like it, finalize the divorce and get me out of your life.” She waited a moment before stomping toward the dining room.
“Suzette,” he ground out.
She didn’t respond, lifting a hand in dismissal.
Bay stared after her, simultaneously angry and fascinated by her bold move. For the first time since he’d left her, he saw the feisty woman he’d fallen in love with years before. Eyes flashing, daring him to challenge her, Bay couldn’t help the fierce attraction rushing through him.
Standing there, still stunned by what she’d done, a smile curved the corners of his mouth. She’d never dared to defy him before, never publicly exposed their relationship. He wondered how many others overheard her announcement. Instead of embarrassment, pride and desire gripped him. He wanted his wife now as much as when they’d met.
The thought confused him. Bay had never truly hated her for what happened, but he’d never been able to forgive her for cuckolding him, either. No man would.
Still, the way Suzette insisted she’d never betrayed him, then announced their true relationship tonight astounded him. Before the incident with Calvan, he’d witnessed this type of audacious behavior from her numerous times. Since coming to Conviction, she’d been meek, soft-spoken, recoiling from him. She’d never mentioned the women he’d paraded through town before tonight.
An odd rush of guilt seized him. He’d sought revenge by humiliating her for the way she’d betrayed him. Although he’d never taken a single one of the women to bed, Suzette didn’t know that, which was what he wanted. Causing her pain gave him a measure of satisfaction. At least it had before their argument a few days ago and her outburst tonight.
Something didn’t make sense. Suzette had never been able to lie to him. When she insisted she’d never betrayed him, he wanted to believe her, but couldn’t reconcile what he’d seen from her adamant denial.
Now she refused to pretend their marriage didn’t exist. Her actions were unexpected, and Bay had no idea what to think of the change.
He couldn’t dwell on the shift in her behavior now, not with the woman he’d brought from Sacramento wandering the streets. Bay would find her and apologize. After he made certain she’d eaten, he’d secure a room for her in the Gold Dust Hotel. Tomorrow, he’d put her on the steamship south.
Afterward, he’d lock himself in his office and decide what to do about Suzette, their marriage, and the raging desire he could no longer ignore.
Andrés Delgado pulled out a cheroot, reaching down to strike a lucifer against the heel of his boot. Lighting the slim cigar, he leaned back against the fallen log, watching the fire as well as the town in the distance.
He’d planned to continue to Maria’s home tonight, give her money, and leave before anyone spotted him. That was before he’d sent one of his two men into Conviction. What the man said upon returning forced Andrés to rethink riding directly to his sister’s.
Brodie MacLaren and his deputies were searching for a family named Smith. Specifically Maria Delgado Smith. He felt confident they wouldn’t find her. Not with the land titled under another name, a distant relative living in New Mexico with no outward connection to the Delgados.
Taking a long draw from the cheroot, Andrés closed his eyes, deciding his next move. Maria needed the money. Not so much for food, as she raised a few hea
d of cattle and always had several dozen chickens running about. She also tended a large garden and had two dairy cows. The money was for supplies and feed, fabric for sewing clothes for herself and the children, and for running if necessary. Andrés had no intention of letting the last happen.
He understood them coming after him. After all, Andrés had committed terrible crimes in his life, most rivaling those of any other outlaw wandering the western territory. Murder, robbery, torture, even rape. Never once had he felt guilty for what he’d done. Maria believed he had no heart, no soul when it came to most people. She and her children were the exception.
Andrés would do everything he could to protect them. Hadn’t he taken care of her abusive husband? He’d provided her property, money, and his protection. In his mind, it would never be enough to repay his sister for the beatings she’d taken to keep their depraved father away from him. She’d been older, stronger, accepting all their father’s cruelty when they were younger. Scars covered her body. Once, he’d beaten her so badly she’d lost hearing in one ear and much of the sight in an eye. All to protect her younger brother.
When he’d turned fifteen, everything changed. As if overnight, Andrés grew several inches, surpassing his father in both height and weight. It had taken only one beating from him to send his father riding away. He’d never returned, and they’d never missed him. From that day on, Andrés had become Maria’s protector. Or, as she would say in her soft voice, her savior.
No one, not Brodie MacLaren or any other lawman, would threaten the sister who had Andrés’ unwavering love. But he’d heard stories about the sheriff and his deputies. They never gave up, always hunting until they found their prey. He knew it wouldn’t be long before they discovered her location.
She’d tell them nothing, of that he felt certain. Unless they threatened the children. Andrés didn’t know if MacLaren was like so many other lawmen, thinking it their right to intimidate women and children to find what they sought. He might not be, but Andrés couldn’t take the chance.
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