Deep River

by Shirleen Davies

  If she returned to San Francisco, she’d spend every day and night as she had the last year—with thoughts of Beau consuming her mind. Staying in Splendor would mean concentrating on her new home, making it her own in a way she’d never done before. Even in San Francisco, the house had come with most of the furnishings, items which meant nothing her. Here, every item would be uniquely hers.

  Her late husband always told her she had more strength than she knew. If it were true, the time had come to prove it to herself.

  Having made her decision, she pulled the covers up under her chin, feeling one last trickle of moisture trail down her cheek. Swiping it away, she vowed it would be the last tear shed for Beau Davis.

  Chapter Nine

  Smashing the empty bottle of whiskey against the wall, Beau let out a string of curses before slouching back in his chair. He hadn’t been this drunk since Caro left, believing he’d put this kind of behavior behind him. It had taken being alone with her, hearing her weak excuses for leaving, to push him back into his old ways. It galled him to realize tonight’s argument hadn’t been all her fault. He had to accept some of the blame.

  The instant Caro said she’d returned because of him, he’d lost every ounce of control. Beau hated lies, and none more than those pouring out of the mouth of the woman he’d once loved—still loved, if his alcohol-filled brain were being honest.

  No amount of whiskey could push away the image of the pain on her face when he’d accused her of wanting nothing from him other than time in his bed. He’d meant the words to cut deep, and they had. Nothing would ever purge the look of shock on her face at the accusations he’d so carelessly thrown at her.

  Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his thighs, then dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his tired eyes. Fatigue overwhelmed him. Tomorrow, he’d be able to function, but not by much.

  Standing, his legs feeling as if they’d been encased in iron, he walked into his bedroom, falling back on the bed. Resting an arm over his eyes, he tried to push the image of Caro’s stricken face from his mind. Drunk or sober, he couldn’t purge her from his thoughts.

  A loud pounding on his door shook Beau from his misery. He ignored it, believing the whiskey played tricks on his brain. When he heard the deafening sound again, followed by shouts, he mumbled a curse, pushing his body off the bed.

  Grabbing the handle, he pulled the door open, bleary eyes boring into Cash, who stood on the steps with his arms crossed. “Do you know what the hell time it is?”

  Cash took a good look at Beau, letting his arms drop to his sides. “You’re a mess. Into the whiskey again?” Pushing past him, Cash walked inside. “Smells like a saloon in here.”

  Beau huffed out a frustrated breath, closed the door, and leaned against it. “It’s after midnight. What do you want?”

  “It’s almost dawn, Beau. How long have you been drinking?” Cash glanced around, spotting the broken bottle on the floor, shards of glass everywhere.

  Letting out a breath, he pushed away from the door, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Just tonight.” Plodding to the kitchen, he opened a cupboard, pulling out a full bottle of whiskey. His hand stilled when Cash gripped his wrist.

  “The Dawsons are in Big Pine.”

  Beau’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know?”

  Dropping his hold on Beau’s wrist, Cash lowered himself into a chair. “Sterling sent a telegram saying one of his deputies spotted Louis and Clem Dawson in Big Pine last night. He followed them from a saloon to the biggest bank in town.” Leaning down, he picked up pieces of broken glass, setting them on the table. “Bernie Griggs couldn’t sleep. Went into the telegraph office early to do paperwork and happened to be there when the message came through. He woke Gabe to give it to him.”

  Taking a seat near Cash, Beau pinched the bridge of his nose, resigned to the fact he’d get no sleep. “What does Gabe want us to do?”

  “We’re to meet him, Caleb, and Mack at the jail.”

  Pushing himself up, Beau grabbed his hat, then slipped on his coat. “Then I guess we’d better get going.”

  “Beau, I want you and Cash to cover the bank. Caleb and Mack will be up by the lumber mill. That way, we cover both ends of town. You’ll rotate shifts every eight hours. Beau and Caleb the first eight, then Cash and Mack the second eight, so there’s one of us on guard at all times. I’ll relieve each of you so everyone gets meals.”

  Beau nodded, glancing at Gabe. “What about Bull and Noah? You know they’ll want to help out.”

  “Are those the two the Dawsons shot?” Caleb asked. He and Mack had heard all about the men who’d gone after Cash and his two friends.

  “They are. Noah’s still dealing with the injury to his arm.” Gabe and Noah were close. Grew up together in New York, joined the Union Army at the same time, then rode to Splendor when they discharged out. “I’m going to wait a few days before telling either one.”

  Cash leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. “We could sure use both of their guns if the Dawsons show up.”

  Noah had been a Union sharpshooter during the war. Almost as skilled, Bull fought alongside the civilian Squirrel Hunters when he was in the Union Army. Neither backed away from trouble.

  Gabe nodded. “We could, but I’d rather wait a few days before saying anything.”

  Mack chuckled. “They’re going to see us and wonder what’s happening. Seems it would be best to let them know now.” He looked at Gabe. “Just my thought, Colonel.”

  “It’s Gabe, and you may be right, Mack. I’ll need to think it over a bit.”

  All five turned as the door opened, a large man with unruly red hair stepping inside. “I’m looking for Sheriff Evans.”

  “You found him.” Gabe took a couple steps toward the man. “What can I do for you?”

  “My name’s Dutch McFarlin.” He extended his hand for Gabe to grasp. “I met with Sheriff Sterling in Big Pine. He said I should look you up. If you have time, I’d like to speak with you…in private.”

  “I suppose we’re done here.” Gabe looked at his men. “Any questions?” When no one spoke, he nodded toward the door. “Then get on it.” He waited until they left before gesturing for Dutch to take a seat. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  Dutch pulled out his badge, handing it across the desk. “I’m with the Pinkerton Agency. We’ve been hired to confirm the identity of an ex-Confederate officer.”

  Gabe sat back in his chair, his gaze narrowing on Dutch. “Why do you want him?”

  Dutch shrugged. “Someone’s looking for him. All I’ve been asked to do is verify the man is in Splendor. Sterling said you could help me.”

  Shaking his head, Gabe crossed his arms. “Depends. I’m a cautious man, McFarlin. If the man’s in Splendor, I want to know what you plan to do with him.”

  Dutch didn’t flinch at Gabe’s statement. He’d feel the same if it were him. “As I said, Sheriff, my boss didn’t tell me why the client wants to be sure the man I’m looking for is the one they believe to be in Splendor. Once I confirm he’s here, I’m to send a telegram to Pinkerton. They’ll either keep me on it, letting me know why they want the man, or they’ll put me on another case.”

  Gabe studied Dutch, believing the agent didn’t know more than what he’d said. “What’s the name?”

  “Beauregard Davis.”

  Thanking his years of service as an officer, which taught him how to keep his face neutral and emotions under control, Gabe didn’t immediately respond.

  “Have you heard of him?”

  Standing, Gabe grabbed his hat and coat. “We need to take a ride.”

  Confusion washed across Dutch’s face as he stood. “Where are we going?”

  “To visit a friend of mine.”

  Beau took a position outside the bank, trying to look inconspicuous as he leaned against a post, his gaze focused on the main street. Two more weeks remained in November and the weather had turned downright cold. Rubbing his hands together,
he shoved them in his pockets, glancing up at the darkening sky. It was still morning, but if he wasn’t mistaken, it felt like they were in for rain. If the temperatures dropped, he’d be keeping watch in the snow.

  “Here. You look like you could use this.”

  Beau shifted, a grin tugging at his lips at the sight of Allie Coulter holding out a cup of coffee. “Cash told me what Gabe asked you to do and that he’d be taking your place in a few hours.”

  Reaching out, he took the cup, wrapping both hands around it. “Thanks, Allie.”

  “If you want more, I’m just inside.” Across the street from the St. James Hotel, her seamstress shop butted up against the bank and had a good view of the town. “Caro came by the shop this morning.”

  Beau looked over the rim of his cup, his expression neutral. “That so?”

  Allie nodded. “She asked me to make her a new dress. It will be gorgeous on her.” After Caro and Isabella left her shop the week before, she’d understood much more about what happened between Caro and Beau.

  “I’m sure it will.”

  “She also asked me to make curtains for her new place. I’ll be going out there to take measurements. Seems to me she plans to stay in Splendor.”

  Beau didn’t want to know about Caro’s plans, whether she planned to stay or leave. After their last conversation, he figured she’d want nothing to do with him.

  He tipped up the cup, drinking the last bit of coffee. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  “Let me know if you want more, and please, come inside if you need to warm up.” Taking the cup, she turned to leave, stopping when she heard someone shouting her name.

  “Allie. I thought that was you.” Hurrying across the street, Caro stepped onto the boardwalk, not noticing Beau standing a few feet away. “I’m riding out to the property. Would you like to come along?”

  Allie glanced behind Caro, seeing Beau take several steps away, turning his back to them. “Now would be fine. Come inside while I get my coat.”

  The instant he’d heard her voice, Beau felt his chest constrict, his hands fisting at his sides. His head still pounded from too much whiskey, a weak attempt to numb the pain of criticizing her the night before. He thought he’d dealt with his anger, the pain of her leaving, shoving it aside as he focused on his job and the house he’d be building come spring. The worst part of how the night ended was the realization he still loved her, might never be free of how she owned his heart.

  Hearing the door to Allie’s shop open, Beau walked down the boardwalk, getting as far away from the sound of Caro’s excited voice as possible.

  “We’ll take the wagon, Allie. I’m so glad you’re able to ride out now. It shouldn’t take long. I think most of the windows are the same size.”

  “I’ve been wanting to see the house since you bought it. Mr. Clausen told me it had been beautiful before the family moved away.”

  Their voices faded as the women crossed the street toward the wagon Caro had waiting. A tug at Beau’s heart caught him by surprise when Caro settled onto the wagon seat and took hold of the lines, just as he’d taught her.

  He’d like nothing more than to start yesterday over, force himself to listen to what she said without his vicious response. Never one to let emotions dictate his actions, he cringed at how easily her excuses undermined his intentions to understand why she’d left. What surprised him most was how much he wanted to go to her and apologize, ask her more about why she’d come back to Splendor.

  “What are you doing huddling outside the bank?”

  Beau glanced up, realizing he’d been so focused on his own thoughts, he hadn’t noticed Bull step next to him. Hell, he wouldn’t have seen the Dawsons if they rode right by him.

  “Checking the town, trying to keep warm.” He noticed the roll of paper under Bull’s arm. “Are you working on the plans for the clinic?”

  Bull nodded. “I’m about finished with it. Depending on the weather, we’re hoping to start building after Christmas. I’ll be finishing the plans for your house right after Thanksgiving. Which reminds me. Rachel wanted me to tell you she expects you at the house for Thanksgiving supper.”

  “I’ll do my best.” He couldn’t tell Bull what was going on with the Dawsons. Not until Gabe made the decision to tell him and Noah. If it were up to him, they would’ve already known about the gang’s arrival in Big Pine.

  Bull shook his head. “That won’t be good enough for Rachel. The Pelletiers expect you. Don’t make me have to ride into town to get you.”

  Beau chuckled, holding up his hands. “All right. Tell her I plan to be there.”

  “Good.” Bull looked over his shoulder at the St. James. “Have you seen Caro this morning?”

  “She rode out to her place with Allie. Why?”

  “She wants me to ride out and look at the kitchen. Guess she’s hoping to expand it and wants my thoughts. Sure seems she plans to stay in Splendor.”

  Beau sucked in a breath. The news should’ve pleased him, and it would have a few days ago. Right now, it felt like a weight bearing down on him. “Maybe.”

  “I suppose it would be best to head out there now. I’d like to meet her two men. Caro said they’re real good workers, and we’re going to need all the men we can get to build the clinic.”

  Looking up the street, Beau focused on two men riding past the church. He didn’t recognize either, but they didn’t look like the images on the posters Gabe had of the Dawson brothers. That didn’t mean they weren’t part of the gang.

  Taking another look, his gaze took in their attire, the guns strapped on their hips. Neither had the appearance of a gunslinger, but he’d been fooled before. Watching as they stopped in front of the Dixie, he wondered what drew the men into the saloon in the middle of the morning.

  Beau turned to Bull. “I’d better get going.” He started to move toward the saloon, glancing at Bull as he walked away. “You might want to ride out now if you want to catch Caro at the house.” Without thought, his hand moved to the butt of his gun. He knew it was loaded and ready.

  Crossing the street, he raised a hand, acknowledging Caleb, who stood at his position down the street at the lumber mill. From several doors down, he saw Mack approach, nodding as Beau stepped inside the Dixie.

  He spotted the two men at the bar, downing whiskeys, setting their glasses down for more. Taking a seat at a nearby table, Beau saw Mack slip inside the saloon. There were few others around at this hour, which made watching the men both easy and difficult. Beau didn’t move as they continued to down one drink after another until they swayed on their feet, their voices growing louder as more alcohol streamed down their throats.

  His gaze narrowed as one of the men slapped the other on the back, cackling.

  “Hell, that wasn’t you. I’m the one who fired the shot.”

  Beau and Mack straightened in their seats, senses on alert as the men’s bantering grew louder, more belligerent. Catching the bartender’s attention, Beau motioned for him to stop pouring the whiskey, hoping the two would settle down. Instead, Paul’s refusal to pour another round angered both.

  “Don’t take that bottle away.” One of the men held his glass out, almost leaning over the bar.

  Paul turned toward them, setting the bottle on a shelf under the back counter. “I think you’ve had enough.”

  Before either Beau or Mack could react, one of the men drew his gun, firing at Paul, missing by inches and hitting the mirror behind the bar. “I’d like that bottle.” He pointed the barrel of his gun at the whiskey under the counter, unaware of Beau and Mack moving up behind him, guns drawn.

  “I’ll take that gun.” Beau nudged the man in the back with his revolver.

  “Don’t do it,” Mack said as the second man reached for his gun.

  “Both of you set your guns on the bar, then put your hands in the air.” Once they complied, Beau’s slight nod to Paul had the bartender grabbing the guns, setting them on the counter behind him. “Turn around and let’s g
o outside. The jail is across the street. You can’t miss it, boys. It’s the one with the big sign on the roof.”

  Walking behind them, Mack glanced at Beau. “These boys sure have given us some choices—disorderly conduct, public drunkenness, damage to personal property. What are you going to charge them with?”

  “All of it, plus being just plain stupid.” Beau shot him a devious grin.

  Chapter Ten

  “What do you think?” Caro led Allie into the parlor after showing her the upstairs.

  Turning in a circle, Allie took in the large room with several windows and sighed. “It’s going to be beautiful.” She turned to look at Caro. “I can just imagine it with furniture. You’re going to be able to have the most wonderful parties here.”

  Caro laughed. “First, I have to learn how to cook.”

  “You can always hire Suzanne to cater until you learn. In fact, she’ll probably be happy to teach you, and I’ll do all I can, although my skills aren’t as good as some of the other women.” Allie tapped a finger against her lips. “You know, Cash once told me Beau is a pretty good cook. Maybe he’d be willing to come over and help.”

  “Oh, no. I could never impose on him. He’s busy with his job and will be building his house in a few months.” She wouldn’t burden Allie with the truth.

  After the horrible argument with Beau the night before, she didn’t believe he’d ever be willing to help her again. His feelings for her were clear. Beau believed her to be a woman who took what she wanted, then abandoned her friends without a backward glance. She’d be fortunate if he acknowledged her on the street, which he hadn’t been willing to do today.

  When she’d looked out the hotel window to see Allie hand Beau a cup of coffee, she’d quickly slipped into her coat, hoping to talk with him, possibly salvage a badly damaged friendship. The opportunity disappeared the instant he turned his back and walked several feet away, hoping she wouldn’t notice him. The pain to her heart had been swift and deep.