Savoring the success of her day, she readied for bed. Sleep didn’t come as she’d expected. Writing to Patrick had stirred up memories she wanted to forget. The hurt from her family’s treatment was like a sore with the scab ripped off. Would she ever overcome the pain of betrayal?
Chapter Eleven
The next morning, Rachel’s excitement had her showing up at work early. Mr. Ramirez walked with her, carrying the bowl in which he’d planted small cacti. She had no idea of the cacti names, but they would be easy to keep alive. One even had blossoms.
As they passed the mercantile, Mr. Buchanan joined them, loaded with her purchases. He’d enlisted the sheriff to help carry the large paintings. What a parade they made.
Proudly unlocking the door with her key, she ushered the men inside. Mr. Ramirez set the bowl of plants on the corner of her desk.
When she thanked him, he smiled and bowed. “My pleasure, Señorita Ross.”
She switched her attention to the clock and the paintings. She pointed to a spot between the door and front window. “The clock will go there where I can see it from my desk.”
Michael pulled a hammer and nail from his pocket. “I’ll hang this for you so it doesn’t get broken. Came all the way from a factory in Connecticut. Letting it fall would be a real shame.”
“I’d probably cry. Thank you for your help.”
The sheriff held a large painting. “Tell me where you want these and I’ll lean them up against the wall in the area.”
She gestured to the right. “The one of the wagons you’re holding goes centered on this wall. The one of the warehouse and men goes in the same spot on the wall opposite.”
When Sheriff Penders had set both large paintings where she asked, he picked up the lone horseman. “This one?”
“Goes on the wall behind my desk. The one of the mountains goes on the wall in Mr. Evans office where he can gaze at it occasionally while he’s working there.”
Michael finished hanging the clock, set and wound it. “Now I’ll tackle the paintings. Be nice to get them all up before Evans gets here.”
The sheriff stood with arms crossed and leaned against the wall.
She pivoted a chair toward him. “Wouldn’t you like to sit down, Sheriff?”
He grinned at her. “Naw, I want to see Evans’ face when he comes in.”
Her happiness crashed into shards of worry. “Y-You don’t think he’ll like them? He said I could decorate the office.”
Sheriff Penders stood with hands in his pockets. “He’s sure to approve, Miss Ross. He’s going to be surprised at the difference you’ve made here.”
She released her breath. “Whew, I thought you meant he’d be angry.”
Michael Buchanan worked quickly and hung the last front office painting before he went into Zane’s office. “I imagine he’d let you put frilly curtains at the windows if you wanted to. Um… you wouldn’t do that, would you?”
“Well, I had planned white lace with lots of ruffles.” She laughed at the expression on the sheriff’s face. “I’m only teasing. The only change in store for the windows is a good polishing. Don’t worry, it will look manly but inviting.”
The sheriff gazed around the room. “You’ve accomplished that. Might get an Indian weaving rug for the floor’s center.”
“That’s a grand idea, but I don’t know where to get such things unless Callahan’s has one.”
He tilted his head and gave her a disbelieving stare.
She was embarrassed when the truth hit her. Her hands on her cheeks, she said, “Oh, I should ask my boss to get one. I keep forgetting he can buy things for himself as well as haul freight for others.”
Michael Buchanan reached for the doorknob as Zane entered. “Are we having a meeting?”
Michael stepped aside to give Zane a full view of the room.
Zane slowly pivoted to take in everything. “I had no idea a few paintings and a clock would make this difference. And a plant on your desk. It’s… it’s civilized.”
“I hope you approve, Mr. Evans.” She wrung her hands waiting for his okay.
“More than approve. Hmm, might do with a rug on the floor in front of your desk.”
Adam Penders laughed. “I said the same thing.”
Buchanan clapped Zane on the back. “I have to get on to the store.” He chuckled. “Thanks for the business.”
Rachel called out, “Thanks for your help.”
“I’ll get on my way, but first I want to show you this.” The sheriff pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded a wanted poster. “Know you’re leaving on a run this week.”
Zane scanned the handbill. “Dalton Cole. Thought he was in prison.”
Adam pointed to a line on the poster. “Broke out last week. Figure he’ll head this way. You be on the lookout. Cole would as soon shoot you as not. And with what you’ll be carrying, your outfit is going to be attractive.”
“Care if I keep this? I’ll show it to my men. Cole’s no match for them.”
“Maybe in a fair fight, but that’s not how he works. He’ll try to drygulch you if he and his pals are around.”
“Thanks for the warning. We’re always careful, but this will keep us sharp.”
Sheriff Penders tipped his hat at Rachel then addressed Zane. “I’ll get back to my business and let you take care of yours.”
Rachel strode toward Zane. “Thank you for your help, Sheriff.”
When they were alone, she stood nervously as Zane gazed once more around the office. “Boyd painted these, right? He sure got the details perfect.” He walked up to each of the large paintings. “You can even identify the men in the warehouse and with the wagons. Well, I’ll be damned… beg your pardon, Rachel. That’s me on the horse.”
“I know. It’s a gorgeous painting, isn’t it? The sunset is the perfect background.”
“I’d thought about putting up a clock but never got around to it. That’s a good spot.”
“Mr. Buchanan hung the clock and paintings for me. The frame leaning against my desk is for a hand-colored Texas map. I hope you can get a glass for the frame in Fort Worth.”
“I’ll do that and find a suitable rug for in here. We can slide it under your desk and that will help keep your feet warm this winter.”
“How thoughtful of you. I’ll bet the stove keeps this place toasty.”
“This room. With the stove in my office going, the place is too hot and without a fire the place is downright chilly.”
“Oh, there’s one more painting. It’s hanging where you’ll see it from your desk.”
He took hold of her hand. “Well, come on. Time you showed me.”
He tugged her into his office, his strong hand clutching her smaller one. Having them linked seemed right, natural.
“Hey, I like that. I love those mountains. As soon as I saw them, I knew this was the place for me.”
“We can hang the map over your desk or you can change the paintings around however you wish. Mr. Buchanan used strong nails when he hung them for me. We came early so everything would be ready when you arrived.”
He stood with his hands at his hips. “Nice of him. And nice of you. Guess it’s true what folks say about a place needing a woman’s touch.”
“Zane, I’m worried about you and your men and wagons. This Dalton Cole sounds dangerous.”
“There are a lot of Dalton Coles in the world, Rachel. We’re always careful. Sometimes we’ve been surprised, but we’ve always won.”
He sat on a corner of his desk. “My men were gunfighters before they worked for me. I provide a steady paycheck and a house for them. They have a good bit of free time when we’re in town, but once on the road, they’re vigilant. Because they were in the robbing business before they reformed, they know all the places and tricks thieves might use.”
“That makes me feel a little better, but you still take risks.” She held up a hand. “I know, someone has to, the same as someone has to be sheriff.”
She walked to the doorway. “I’ll finish my filing now. Is there anything else you need?” Immediately she realized how she sounded. “I mean, is there more work to be done today?”
He chuckled. “This is payday. I have the packets in the safe. I’ll bring them to you. The men should be showing up pretty soon.”
Rachel supposed he didn’t want her to see how to open the large safe he had near his desk. She sat down and resumed sorting the files.
Soon Zane stood by her desk. “Here are the packets with each man’s name on them. Vic’s the leader of the four guards and he gets a bit extra. Ken does too since he’s my second in command. The other three are the same. And here’s one for the two days you’ve worked plus advance pay through this time next week.”
“A week in advance? Oh, Zane, I appreciate your trust but that isn’t necessary. I’ll try to keep busy while you’re gone, but I may be just sitting here part of the time.”
“Whenever you’re here, you deserve to be paid in a timely manner.”
“I wasn’t expecting any pay this soon, but thank you. And, I’ll make sure the man whose name is on the envelope gets his wages.”
“Can you shoot a gun?”
His question surprised her. “A hunting rifle and a derringer. That’s all.”
“If you can shoot a derringer, you can shoot this.” He opened a drawer and put a revolver inside. “It’s loaded. While you’re here alone, I want you to be able to protect yourself.”
She fisted her hands at her hips. “Being afraid hadn’t occurred to me until you mentioned it, Zane Evans.”
“I had no intention of scaring you, but you have to be prepared for any event.” He leaned down so his face was even with hers. “Look, you’re a beautiful woman and we’re at the edge of town. The sheriff comes by twice a day, but everyone around knows his schedule.”
“The wives of your other employees are nearby.”
“Zillah and Ken Hill live several blocks away in town. True, the other four wives live near here. If you shoot a gun, they’re likely to come investigate. Didamia isn’t afraid of anything as far as I can tell.”
She smiled at the expression on his face. She could hardly wait to meet Didamia. “Would it be all right with you if I invite the wives here for tea one afternoon while you’re away?”
He tugged at his earlobe. “Fine with me, but you realize these are not society women.”
“They’re women and would no doubt enjoy socializing. Didamia loves plants and my friend Lorraine is a gardener. I thought I’d ask her too if that’s all right.”
He appeared perplexed. “Sure. Ask away. I don’t want you to be shocked or disappointed.”
She put a hand on his sleeve. “Zane, women are women. We all have the same dreams and needs, no matter how we appear on the outside.”
Couldn’t she attest to that? The women she’d met in prison were a match to those she’d known before. Some good, some bad, some loners, some seeking company. What would Zane think if he knew where she’d spent three years?
“Really? Somehow I can’t imagine you and the wives of my men socializing. I imagine you know best about such things.” Shaking his head, he went back into his office.
Within an hour, four men ambled into the room. She could definitely believe these men had been criminals. Might still be for all she knew. Together they presented a frightening sight.
A Mexican man with long black hair and a waxed mustache that curled on each end pointed at the warehouse painting. “Look at that. Hey, I’m right in the picture.”
A large red-haired and red-bearded man pointed to the wagons. “You’re here too, and so are we. I’ll be dogged. That Jim Boyd is sure talented.”
The black man joined the redhead. “Lemme see. Why, you’re sure ‘nuff right. You can even see the silver on Bronco’s saddle.”
Vic leaned in. “Damned if I’m not on the wrong side of the wagon.” He looked her way. “Oh, pardon me, Miss Ross.” He switched back to the painting. “Sure can tell that’s me, though. I’m going to check out the warehouse picture.”
The black man laughed. “You can see ever one of us plain as if you was standin’ there.”
Vic stood staring at the painting and shook his head. “Well I’ll be da…dad-blamed. Who’d of thought Boyd could get us down without us knowing it?”
Rachel said, “He told me that once he’s seen something, he can remember every detail. Isn’t that amazing?”
The men exclaimed over the lone horseman and admired the Seth Thomas clock.
Then the black man approached her desk. “Miss Ross, I’d best get my pay home to Ruby or she’s gonna have my hide. My name’s Mick Cooper.”
She handed over his envelope. “Nice to meet you, Mick. Who’s next?”
The redhead held his hat in his hands. “Buck McCartney, ma’am. Sure nice to meet you.”
“And you, Buck.” She passed him his pay.
“Bronco Alvarez, Miss Ross.” He gestured around the room. “You are responsible for the improvements, yes?”
“With Mr. Evans’ permission.” She passed him his packet.
He nodded and focused on the lone horseman. “Sí, of course. Muy bueno. You did well.”
“Thank you.” She said as he turned to leave.
“Hello, again, Vic. Here’s your packet. I’ll be calling on Didamia and the other wives while you’re gone. My friend Lorraine is looking forward to meeting everyone.”
He pocketed the money. “Ain’t that something? Now Zillah, she fits in with the town wives real well. But, meaning no offense, most folks in town pretty much ignore our wives.”
“Well, that’s not right—not unless that’s what they prefer.”
He frowned and slowly shook his head. “Don’t reckon it’s what Didamia thinks best, but she’ll let you know if I’m wrong. She ain’t one who’s too bashful to speak up.”
“That’s a good thing, Vic. At least I hope so because I’m that way. In fact, perhaps I’m too outspoken at times.”
He chuckled and left her to work.
A nice-looking man came in. “I’m Ken Hill here to get my pay.”
She handed over the last packet. “Nice to meet you. I’m Rachel Ross, the new bookkeeper.”
While she sorted files, she thought about what she’d said to Vic. Her father thought she was outspoken and stubborn when she asked to attend Worthington Institute instead of finishing school. When she’d insisted on going to work, he’d refused to hire her and had been furious when she found a bookkeeping job. Too late now, but she almost agreed with him.
If she’d stayed home and embroidered and gone to teas, she’d have avoided trouble. But, she’d have hated her life. Bookkeeping appealed to her. Working with numbers made her happy. And now she had her second chance.
She hoped Zane never learned of her prison time. Oh my, if she agreed to marry him, she’d have to confess all her secrets. Even the idea of telling Zane she’d been accused of embezzling and sent to jail created knots in her stomach muscles and squeezed her chest like a vise. Another reason to postpone her decision.
Chapter Twelve
At noon on Wednesday, Zane leaned against Rachel’s desk as she put away the ledger and gathered her handbag.”
“I’ll be gone eight days. While I’m in Fort Worth, I’ll find a rug and get the glass for the map frame.”
Her beautiful, coffee-colored eyes appeared sad. “You’re going to miss the dance.”
He longed to crush her against his chest and comfort her. “Hate that, but I’ll make it up to you.”
She colored and lowered her gaze. “N-No need, I simply meant I’m sorry you’ll miss the fun. Everyone in town is invited.”
“In the meantime, I have a surprise today.”
The door opened and Mr. Gallagher entered carrying a violin.
“Have a seat in my office, Colin, and make yourself comfortable.”
“I only have an hour today. Doctor’s waiting for me to work on his house.�
�� The carpenter walked into the back office.
Rachel stared at him, obviously puzzled.
From the next room came the sound of a violin being tuned.
“My dear, since I have to miss the dance, I asked Colin here to play for us so I can have the privilege of dancing with you.”
Her eyes widened and he could swear there were diamonds there. “That’s incredibly thoughtful, Zane.”
The music broke into a schottische. Zane grabbed her and they twirled around the office as if there were more dancers.
She laughed and her eyes sparkled with humor. “I see you’re taking care not to bump into other couples.”
“I’m a good dancer, don’t you agree?”
“Excellent, the best on the dance floor.”
They danced a quadrille next. “I’m glad everyone makes way for us.”
He smiled at her. “It’s the gruff stares I give them if they come too close.”
The next half hour, Colin played from one dance straight into another before he called, “Next one is the last one. I’ll make it a waltz.”
Zane pulled her into his arms, perhaps a little too closely, but he didn’t care. There was no one else to see. They sailed around the room as if they were one.
Rachel gazed up at him. “I love the waltz.”
“As do I,” he whispered against her ear. “Especially when I’m holding you.” He nuzzled against her hair.
She melted against him as he’d dreamed since he’d met her. The sensation was even better than he’d imagined. He wanted this time to go on and on forever.
Unfortunately, the music ceased. Colin appeared, carrying his violin. “Sorry, but I have to get back to the doc’s house. Promised him I’d only be gone an hour.”
Zane passed him money as he shook his hand. “Thanks for the serenade. Appreciate you giving up your lunch time.”
“Miz Gaston will make sure I have a bite to eat when I get there. She believes in feeding a man.” With a nod he was out the door.
Unable to bear waiting any longer, Zane cupped Rachel’s delicate face in his hands. He expected shock or surprise but she merely gazed at him with her berry-colored lips parted. Did she realize what an invitation she offered?
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