Whispers of Yesterday
The Belles of Wyoming #23
By Marie Higgins
Copyright © 2019 by Marie Higgins
Cover Artist: Virginia McKevitt
Edited by: Lynda Floyd, Teresa Pearson, and Veronica Mesia
Proofreaders: Linda Hillman, Scarlet O’Hare, and Amy Petrowich
Edition License Notes
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
DEDICATION
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
Other published stories by Marie Higgins
Author’s Bio
DEDICATION
I would like to dedicate this book to my bestie, Dawn Johnson LaFleur, and especially, her brother Nathan Grange Johnson, who passed away suddenly July 1, 2019. I named my hero in this story after Nathan Grange Johnson because Nathan was a kind man with a heart of gold. He loved to make people smile and laugh – and he loved his family. There’s nothing better than that.
She’s determined to mend her broken heart. He vows to protect her no matter the cost. Will they be able to free themselves of the memories of yesteryear?
Sabine Clayborne is running from someone she’s never met before, but he is after a keepsake given to her by her father. She must do everything she can to keep it out of the thief’s hands. When she stumbles upon a man from her past, she’s hesitant to believe he is the man who will help her. He broke her heart once, and she isn’t about to let him do it again.
Bounty Hunter, Grange Keller, is looking for a woman from his past. He’s being paid to find her, but his conscience tells him to help her instead. There was a reason he left her years ago, but now he needs to protect her. Someone is after her inheritance – a treasure she never knew she had. Can he do his job without losing his heart?
ONE
Laramie, Wyoming, 1881
What a mangy-looking crowd.
Grange Keller stood just inside the run-down saloon, holding the door open as he swept his gaze through the dimly lit room. Six rickety tables filled the small space, each with four chairs. The tavern wasn’t busy for the early afternoon hour, but all nine people occupying space at the tables, swiveled their eyes toward Grange.
He took a breath and immediately gagged on the putrid scent of unwashed bodies and ale. Not at all a pleasant mixture. He was sure if he breathed too deeply the odor alone would kill something inside him. But entering such an establishment was vital because this was where he would find the man looking to hire him. Grange’s reputation as a bounty hunter had swept through Wyoming and the surrounding states. Many people wanted to hire him. And usually Grange met his potential employers inside a saloon. If he wanted to pretend to be a lowlife miscreant, he had to act like one.
Releasing the door, he took three steps inside the establishment before it closed behind him. Adjusting his vision to the dim lighting, he peered more closely at the filthy patrons scattered throughout the room.
Immediately, three serving girls rushed to his side. Heavy perfume permeated the air around him, and his stomach lurched once more. Their scent definitely did not blend well with ale and unwashed bodies, either.
“Good evenin’, sir.”
One of the serving girls batted her thin eyelashes as she flashed him a smile that showed her brown – and missing – teeth. He tried not to grimace.
“Howdy, stranger. What can I get ya?” the second woman asked as she rubbed the palm of her hand along his arm. She had the blackest, and messiest, hair he’d ever seen.
Grange held up his hand, stopping the third one before she spoke. “I’m not interested in anything you – or this establishment – have to offer. So, if you don’t mind, please give me some privacy.”
Each one threw him a scowl before they turned to mingle with the other patrons. It surprised him that they would hang on him like that. Today he was dressed as poorly – or worse than – most of the men in the saloon. His clothes were thin and hanging on him, and his long hair hadn’t been washed in days. He dressed like this for a reason, especially when searching for his next new client.
He continued scanning the room until his gaze fell upon a lone man sitting at a table. The description Grange had been given fit this uppity-looking lout perfectly. Zig-zagging carefully around the tables to reach the stranger, Grange tried not to step on anything that might stick to his shoes. A floorboard creaked and moved beneath his foot. He paused, making certain to step lightly from here on out.
When he arrived at the correct table, he stopped. The man who Grange was after had been staring into his empty cup. The man’s attire was very pristine, and his clothes of the finest cloth. His hat hung low on his forehead, the brim shading his eyes.
Clearing his throat, Grange took off his old, tattered hat and clasped it in his hand. The man’s attention slowly moved from his cup and wandered over Grange, finally staying on his face.
Grange gave the man a nod. “Diego sent me,” he said, which was the code used to let interested parties know Grange was the person they were after.
The man blinked his glassy eyes. “Diego, you say?”
“Yes.”
“Then sit.” The stranger motioned to the empty chair across the table from him.
Grange lowered himself to the chair, and just as the floorboard had done a moment ago, the piece of furniture wobbled on him. He gritted his teeth. Some places were too dangerous to conduct meetings.
“I heard you are looking for a bounty hunter,” Grange said in a gruff voice.
“Yes. I want to hire you.” The man kept his voice low. “I was told that you have the skills to track people faster than anyone. Rumor has it that you are the best.”
Grange nodded. “I’ll admit, the rumors have done me justice. I am the best.”
“Splendid.” The man sat upright. “Are you up for a little adventure?”
Grange cracked a smile. “Adventure? I’m always looking for some kind of adventure.”
“Then listen closely.” The man leaned forward, the arms in his fancy suit coat resting on the table, apparently not realizing the table hadn’t been cleaned for weeks. “I want you to help me find a woman. Her name is Sabine Clayborne... or at least I think that is the name she’s using since she changes it all the time. She tells everyone she’s a widow.”
The familiar name perked Grange’s interest. “Sabine Clayborne, you say. Was her maiden name Lewis?”
“Yes. Why? Do you know her?”
Grange hesitated in telling him the truth. Then again, he was rarely totally honest with the people who hired him. “I have had contact with her brother in the past.”
The man gave him a skeptical gaze but said nothing.
Grange couldn’t allow the man to be curious about his relationship with the woman, so quickly added, “What does Sabine look like these days, so I can recognize her more easily?”
He reached into his suit-coat pocket and pulled out a miniature, handing it to Grange. “She has lovely light-brown hair, hazel eyes, and she has a slender frame. She’s quite lovely, in fact. She shouldn’t be hard to find.”
As Grange studied the portrait, he r
ealized this was Sabine when she was in her sixteenth year. “What exactly do you want me to do with this woman once I’ve found her?”
“Well, you see,” the man paused as he glanced around the room quickly before focusing back on Grange. “I just need you to capture her for now and bring her to me.”
“Bring her to you?”
“Yes.”
Grange nodded and tapped his fingers on the table. “So, why do you want her captured?”
The man lifted a haughty chin. “That, sir, is my business, not yours.”
Grange straightened and leaned forward on the table, glaring at the other man. “It is my business when I’m the one capturing her.”
The other man grumbled. “Fine. She is my wife.”
Grange held in a surprised gasp. “Wife?” He scratched his bushy chin. “And she has run away from you, I suppose?”
“Yes, and I want her back. Is that so difficult to understand?”
Slowly, Grange shook his head. “Not at all. I realize why someone like you would want a lovely woman on his arm.”
The man grumbled and his brow furrowed. “I just want my wife back.”
Grange slumped back in his chair and shook his head full of grimy hair. “A task like this won’t come cheap.”
“I’m aware of the cost and am willing to pay whatever is necessary.”
Grange grinned. “Then you have yourself a deal.”
“Splendid. I expect you to get on this immediately.” The man glanced over Grange’s attire again. “And clean yourself up. Sabine is used to associating with high-class people. She will not trust anyone who looks like a miscreant.”
“Not to worry. I clean up nicely.” Grange held back a laugh. If only the other man knew just how nicely he cleaned up... “When you see me next, you won’t even know I’m the same person.”
“Encouraging words, but you’d better not disappoint.” The man stood and tossed some currency on the table. “Here’s a little money to start you out.” He threw a card on top of the money. “And here is the address where I’m staying. My name is Foster Powell, and I suggest you not forget it. You can either be one of my right-hand men... or dead. It’s your choice.”
Grange leaned back in his chair, linked his fingers across his chest, and nodded once. “You don’t say.”
As Grange watched Foster storm out of the saloon, he bit back a grin. Foster Powell acted cocky enough, but Grange was sure his bark was worse than his bite. But first things first, Grange needed to check out this man to see exactly what kind of model citizen he was. And... he needed to see if Foster Powell really was married to Sabine. For some reason, he doubted Foster’s story. Of course, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t take the job and find the woman, it just meant he’d do it on his terms.
THREE WEEKS LATER IN Belle, Wyoming
“Oh, that intolerable woman!”
Growling, Sabine Clayborne bunched her hands into fists as she marched down the hillside toward her aunt’s home. She carefully stepped around the purple and pink wildflowers – not wanting to mash them with her shoes – before continuing on her way. Frustration boiled in the pit of her stomach, and with every step, she was ready to scream. And to add insult to injury, she had to walk through the middle of town in this rage for everyone to witness.
Something needed to be done about the town’s gossipmonger, Lucy Mae Jackson. That woman’s voice carries from one end of the town to the other, and she always has her nose in someone else’s business.
This town was definitely not big enough for the two of them, especially when she’d hinted that Sabine did not act like a widow. Sabine stomped her foot, growling. How in Heaven’s name was she supposed to act after being widowed for over a year? Had Lucy Mae expected Sabine to never look at another man again? And yet all she’d done to deserve Lucy Mae’s loose tongue was to chat with Deputy Will and touch his arm. And now she’s a wanton?
Sabine rolled her eyes. In her own opinion, Lucy Mae needed a man to keep her out of everyone else’s lives. Perhaps she might gently push some of the available men in this town toward Lucy Mae. On the other hand, she might have to shove them instead. It seemed that nobody wanted to be the busybody’s friend. And if Sabine couldn’t stop the ugly rumors, nobody would want to be her friend, either.
Sabine stopped near the large oak tree in front of her aunt and uncle’s home. She rested her palm against the rough bark of the tree as reality sank in her heart and mind. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked away the betraying liquid. Life hadn’t been very fair to her these past five years. Being forced to marry a man who didn’t love her had started the chain-reaction to people leaving her. Her parents’ deaths happened within three months after she was married, and her brother’s death came next. Then her uncaring husband decided that they couldn’t live together any longer, and he packed up and left. Being without a husband didn’t bother her that much, anyway. After all, they hadn’t loved each other. In fact, she was forced to marry the rotten man when her pa had caught them together in an intimate embrace at the neighbor’s barbeque luncheon one afternoon.
Nevertheless, she was now without a husband, but to keep gossipers like Lucy Mae from spreading vicious rumors, Sabine moved to a different town where nobody knew her and she’d introduced herself as the Widow Clayborne. She’d told everyone – with a pretend catch in her throat – that her poor husband died from heart failure. That wasn’t far from the truth since he didn’t have a heart, anyway.
Taking in a deep breath of air, she tried to clear her thoughts and get a handle on her temper. Hopefully, Aunt Milly and Uncle Gerald would help her stop the gossip that Lucy Mae had started.
When she walked into their home, the fresh scent of baking bread filled the air. Aunt Milly was always cooking, it seemed. Of course, Uncle Gerald was at the newspaper office that he owned, getting the next edition ready for publication. Their daughter Natalie, Sabine’s cousin, was now blissfully married to Drew Shepherd.
Sabine stepped into the kitchen and stopped. Aunt Milly had just pulled out three loaves of bread from the cooking stove. Sabine’s mouth watered, anxious to taste the bread. She’d always liked Aunt Milly’s cooking because it tasted better than her mother’s. Well, what Sabine could remember, anyway.
“Can I help you?” Sabine asked, moving close to the table.
“No, I’m fine. There’s not much we can do until they cool, anyway.” Aunt Milly wiped her hands on her apron and turned toward Sabine. “What have you been doing in town today?”
Sabine’s heart dropped. Had her aunt already heard the gossip? “Not much. Why? What have you heard?”
Frowning, her aunt shook her head. “Nothing. I’ve been cooking all morning.”
Sabine breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, so then let me tell you what really happened before you hear the fabricated story.”
Concern etched Aunt Milly’s face as she pulled out a chair and sat, tapping the table as an indication for Sabine to sit.
“What happened?”
As Sabine explained about her friendly chat with Deputy Will and how, when he’d made her laugh she had touched his arm, anger rose in her once again. She told her aunt about the town gossip overhearing Sabine and the deputy, and making the situation bigger than it should have been. She’d love to throttle Lucy Mae!
“First off,” Aunt Milly said softly, “take a deep breath and calm down. If the people in the town hear it from Lucy Mae, they’ll be hesitant to believe her. And secondly, you have already proved yourself in this town. People like you... and they don’t expect you to be a widow for the rest of your life.”
Sabine nodded, feeling slightly eased. But when she saw that woman again, she just might give her a piece of her mind.
“Are you all right now, dear?”
“Yes, Aunt Milly. Thank you for understanding.”
“Good.” She smiled and brushed the flour off her apron. “Now I can tell you about the visitor that came to see you not too long ago.”
�
�Visitor?” Sabine wasn’t sure she liked this. Why would someone come to visit her? She’d only been in town three short weeks.
“Yes.” Aunt Milly squeezed Sabine’s arm gently. “A real gentleman, in fact. He was quite handsome.” The woman waggled her eyebrows.
“Really? Is he someone here in town?”
“No. I’ve never seen him before in my life.”
Trying not to look panicked, Sabine held her breath. There was only one person who would come looking for her. The thief who’d ransacked her home in Utah, which was why she had moved in with her aunt and uncle.
How had the thief found her? But regardless, she would not give him what he was looking for – even if he threatened to kill her.
TWO
Grange leaned against the building and lowered his hat on his forehead. What a quaint little town. It surprised him that someone like Sabine would live here, since she was all about the money and living a wealthy lifestyle – which was definitely not happening in Belle, Wyoming.
He twirled a piece of straw between his fingers and he rested it against his bottom lip. He’d been in town long enough to meet a few people. Everyone was very friendly here, especially the unmarried females who couldn’t stop staring at his fancy duds. He had purposely purchased nice clothes for his journey to Belle. He had a character to play, and for this assignment, he was a wealthy man looking to purchase many acres of land in hopes of starting a stud farm.
He’d discovered, from a nice woman by the name of Lucy Mae Jackson, that Sabine Clayborne was staying with her aunt and uncle. Grange probably heard more than he bargained for when chatting with the woman, but he got the impression that Sabine hadn’t made a very believable widow. In fact, Sabine’s flirting had highly disgusted Miss Jackson.
A chuckle sprang from Grange’s throat. He recalled when he first met Sabine Lewis. She was only sixteen at the time, but she was a beauty and won over nearly every young man she met. He was three years older at the time, and although he found her charming, he also thought she was immature.
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