High Mountain Drifter

by Jillian Hart

  "When I saw him walk down the hall, you know, through the doorway, my heart stopped. Sweat broke out on the back of my neck." Penelope, slender and quiet, gave a little shiver. "I tried not to feel that way, it's not fair to judge people based on their looks alone, but there's something about him. Very powerful."

  "That's true." She thought of how understanding he'd been over her outburst in the street. How all the anger and frustration for Ernest she'd caged up had just exploded out. Not every man would be as understanding.

  "I hope it doesn't take him long to hunt down Ernest," Penelope added. Her lovely oval face was wreathed with sympathy. "It must be so hard to know your sisters are in as much danger as you are."

  "Yes, that's exactly my worry." She stared down at the pillowcase she was embroidering and the little stitched flowers blurred. "Back in Chicago when Ernest first became violent, all of us had a discussion on what to do, you know, when I broke it off with him. Because I definitely had to end things. He was getting so controlling, it was scaring me."

  "My mother went through something very similar," Penelope said quietly, her eyes filling with sadness. "That had to be such a hard time for you."

  "I thought once I'd turned him down gently because of his increasing temper, that it would be over." She took one look at her sisters--Iris was stitching away with laughter in her eyes, Elise and Maebry were greatly amused as Rose and Magnolia bantered away. They were precious to her, beyond price. "We'd decided I'd return the locket he gave me with everyone around. In public. So we all invited Ernest over to our boardinghouse. It was busy, and we assumed he wouldn't want to damage his much-cherished reputation by having a tantrum in public."

  "You were wrong?" Penelope's gaze scanned Verbena's face, going from bruise to bruise.

  "He got violent. He wanted to hurt me. I was so startled, to see him suddenly so completely revealed, his true self he'd been hiding. My sisters crowded in front of him, trying to keep him back, but he wouldn't stop raging. When he finally left, I thought, whew, that's over, he's gone. I couldn't stop shaking because I couldn't believe how benign he'd seemed in the beginning."

  "But it wasn't over, was it?" Concern drew little furrows into Penelope's forehead. She set down her sewing to brush brown little wisps of hair from her eyes.

  "No. He came back with a gun." She remembered the chill that had raced through her veins, the absolute horror of seeing that weapon pointed at her. "He strode into the dining room, we were eating supper. Daisy jumped up to try to stop him, but he punched her in the face and she tumbled to the floor."

  "That's horrible." Tears gathered in Penelope's eyes.

  "My other sisters jumped in to protect me." That had been the worst moment for her. Looking at Penelope, she realized that her new friend already understood that. How seeing those she loved in danger was worse than anything she could face alone. "Iris was traumatized by him, it was a terrible thing to see her so terrified. I begged him to hurt me, not my sisters, but he threw Rose against a wall and knocked the wind out of her. He turned his gun on Magnolia, but she knocked it out of his grip. The gun went off as it fell, other people were coming to see what was going on, so he left. But he said he wasn't finished."

  "Oh, Verbena, I'm sorry." Tears stood in Penelope's eyes, glistening there, full of compassion. "And he followed you here. He's still after you."

  "He's still hurting my sisters." She blew out a shaky breath, glancing again at the merry women talking about Rose's new beau. She was denying he was her beau--one drive home from church did not make a beau, she argued, but she was hopeful, blushing pink the way she did.

  Watching them, she knew what she had to do. There would be no more waiting, no more wondering when Ernest would strike next and who he would harm. Daisy's fiancé, Beckett, was bedridden, so wounded he was still unable to walk. Kellan, one of the cowboys, was back at work but he had twenty-five stitches in his back and side from a knife attack. She let her gaze stray to the window, where Burton walked the perimeter with a rifle resting on his shoulder. Who would be hurt next? Or worse, killed?

  She wasn't worth that. She couldn’t live with what had happened already. The guilt was too much to bear.

  "That bounty hunter is going to take care of this for you." Penelope reached out, touched Verbena's hand with a brief, reassuring squeeze. "I've never seen any man as capable. He looks as if he could move a mountain with a shovel if he had the mind to."

  "Agreed." She managed a weak smile. She appreciated Penelope's attempts to comfort her, to try and put her mind at ease. Zane Reed flashed into her mind, the gentleness that had shown in his eyes right before he'd stormed out into the rain.

  Gentleness.

  She wouldn’t have guessed that from a man like him.

  The sound of the back door unlocking echoed down the hallway. A key jiggled in the lock and a burst of damp air breezed through the house.

  "It's only me," Daisy, back from checking on her fiancé, called out cheerfully. "Where is everybody?"

  "In here!" Magnolia bellowed back. "How's Beckett?"

  "He's feeling well enough to be crabby, so that's a great improvement." Daisy's footsteps padded in their direction. "He's frustrated being stuck in bed."

  "Sure, when he wants to be out helping find Ernest," Iris sympathized, securing her needle in the fabric and folding up her half-sewn dress. "What are you doing back so soon?"

  "What do you mean, so soon?" Daisy blew into sight, untying her hat. Rain dripped from the brim. "It's suppertime."

  "Already?" Gemma twisted to get a good look at the mantel clock. "It's after five. We've been talking for hours."

  "Time flies when you're having fun," Rose chimed in, folding up her crocheting. "I can't remember the last time I've had such a good time."

  "It's the company," Maebry teased playfully. "You've never had me over before."

  "Or me," Elise joked as she slipped the mittens she'd been knitting into her bag. "Gemma and Penelope are pretty great, too."

  "Why, thank you." Penelope blushed, eyes dancing with mischief. "I think we're all pretty great. I've had the best time. Thank you for having us over."

  "Exactly," Gemma and Elise said in unison.

  "We have to do this again," Rose declared, bouncing to her feet. "We'll figure it out and be in touch, yes?"

  Affirmations peppered the air. Verbena anchored her needle in the fabric and set her hoop aside. Everyone was standing up, ready to leave, giving hugs, extending pleasantries, heading toward the door to don outerwear.

  Verbena joined everyone in the large, airy foyer. She hugged Penelope, so thankful they'd gotten a chance to know each other better. Said goodbye to Elise and Gemma, who thanked her profusely for including them. Elise had promised to give Gemma a ride, for she'd walked from town, and was ferrying Penelope in that direction anyway.

  "Next time I'll be able to come earlier," Maebry said, the last to leave, as she buttoned up the new coat Gil had bought her. Her appled-cheeks were pink with happiness, her emerald green eyes had never sparkled so brightly before. Marriage looked good on her. "I'm cutting back on my hours. Aumaleigh and I talked about it this morning."

  "Of course, you won't need to work now that you're married." Daisy took Maebry's hat off the coat tree and handed it to her. "Aumaleigh depends on you so much. You help cook most of the meals."

  "She still has Josslyn," Maebry plopped the hat on her head. "And I won't completely quit until Aumaleigh has hired a replacement. Perhaps there's someone out there somewhere who needs a job. So it will all work out."

  "What matters is that you're happy." Iris gave Maebry a hug. "Drive safe. I hope Gil won't mind that his supper will be a little late."

  "He's working late tonight," Maebry said, her smile never wavering. "So no worries. He'll eat at the ranch. I tell you, this afternoon has been just what I needed. My curtain is done, and so I can start on my next project. Oh, and I'll look for you in church tomorrow."

  "You two come sit with us," Rose invited, f
ollowing Maebry through the door and onto the covered porch. "Good night!"

  "Good night," Maebry called through the twilight. Her steps tapped a snappy rhythm on the porch stairs and then she was gone, her voice faint as she said howdy to Burton standing guard.

  Rose closed the door. "Well, that was fun, but I'm starving. What's for supper?"

  "Why are you looking at me?" Daisy wanted to know, hands in the air, palms up. "I'm not the only one who can cook around here. Let's go take a look in the pantry. We can warm up roast beef and gravy."

  "I'll put on some potatoes to boil," Iris offered, waltzing down the hallway.

  "I'll whip up some biscuits," Rose offered. "Magnolia, set the table, will you?"

  "Let's eat by the fire," Verbena suggested, standing by the door, thinking about the chill in the air and how cold it must be for the men outside. "And we should make enough for Burton and the guys."

  "Absolutely," Daisy called from the kitchen.

  Verbena intended to join them in the kitchen and help, but her feet stayed rooted to the floor. She drew back the curtain on the window by the door and peered out into the deepening shadows. A few stray, fallen leaves rattled across the porch, driven by the hard wind. Rain beat against the side of the house with a vengeance. And somewhere in that vast, growing dark was Zane Reed.

  Zane. She couldn't explain the tug on her heart, how she felt for him out there in the cold. She couldn’t explain why she felt something for him at all.

  Chapter Six

  It felt good to be out of the house again, even if it was only on the way to town. Verbena gripped her cane, breathed in the morning air, a little rainy, but it smelled like late autumn. The mix of cold, snowy mountain air, wood smoke curling from the many chimneys on their way through town, and wet, damp fallen leaves.

  She'd spent half the night sleeping fitfully, her senses fully tuned for any slight sound out of the ordinary, and the rest of it wide awake, staring at the ceiling. So she yawned again, covering her mouth with her gloved hand, and leaned back against the cushioned buckboard seat.

  "That's the third one this morning," Iris commented beside her. "I'm concerned about you. You're not sleeping, are you?"

  "No," she said lightly, not wanting Iris to worry. Honestly, what she'd been through was small compared to what Iris endured. "I couldn't sleep at all and it's Magnolia's fault."

  "Not mine!" Magnolia denied playfully from the front seat where she reined sweet Marlowe down the road toward the church. "I slept like a rock."

  "Which was the problem," Rose pointed out, full of mischief. "You're a snorter, Mags."

  "A big snorter," Verbena confirmed. "No one can get a good night's sleep with you snorting away."

  "Says the mumbler," Magnolia countered brightly. "Besides, I don't snort all that loudly. I hardly ever wake myself up."

  "At least you'll be moving into your own room in a few days," Iris said, the sensible one, as the buckboard rolled to a stop. "As soon as Tyler's crew finishes the last touches on the room at the end of the hall, we can move you in."

  "It won't be a minute too soon," Rose teased as she launched off the seat and stepped around a mud puddle. "Finally, for the first time in my life, I'll be able to sleep without the covers over my head."

  "No snorting," Verbena agreed, scooting to the edge of the seat. "I don't know how I'll get through the night with it so quiet."

  "But I will miss you talking in your sleep," Magnolia said fondly as she climbed down from the front seat. "Just think of a room all to myself. It's exciting, plus it's starting to sink in that we're really home. Home to stay."

  "Until you get married," a woman's voice said from the front lawn. Their aunt Aumaleigh gave a little wave, elegantly gorgeous in a navy wool coat and matching hat. The shade brought out her striking bluebonnet blue eyes and enhanced the shine in her mahogany hair, not yet touched by gray. Although in her early fifties, she stood slim and willowy. "I can't believe we have two weddings to plan."

  "Please, I'm not quite ready for that." Magnolia blushed happily, though. "I'm still getting used to being engaged, it's too new. I can't think about a wedding yet."

  "Then I guess we'll have to start planning Daisy's." Aumaleigh's lovely heart-shaped face blushed with pleasure at the idea. "Speaking of Daisy, I thought she was going to come this morning."

  "That's what we heard too," Iris spoke up, circling around the front of the vehicle and horse to join Aumaleigh on the wet lawn. "She was going to bring little Hailie with her."

  "I hope that they're lateness doesn't mean Beckett took a turn for the worse." Concern dug little lines around the corners of Aumaleigh's mouth. "If they don't come, I may leave you girls and head out there, with Beckett's condition still so serious."

  "One of us will come with you too, to help," Verbena spoke up, already concerned too. "Just in case."

  All around her, the cowboys dismounted. Burton, in charge, scanning the street, churchyard. Kellan, surveying the churchyard. Shep gathered the horses and tethered them. Three other men spread out, eyes peeled for any sign of Ernest.

  "Verbena, don't look so troubled." Aumaleigh fell into stride beside her as they headed toward the walkway. "They volunteered for the job. I didn't have to ask them. It's their decision to put themselves in harm's way for you girls. What, you don't think I couldn't see it on your face?"

  "I'm just surprised you could tell. I was hoping it didn't show." The back of her neck tingled, as it had been all morning. "He's never far from me."

  "Neither is that bounty hunter Milo brought in." Aumaleigh gestured to the far edge of the lawn.

  There, across the block, stood a tall, shadowed figure of a man. Feet braced, powerful legs straight, a rifle slung against his steely shoulder. The force of his dark gaze radiated all the way across the block.

  "I haven't met him yet," Aumaleigh said. "He put his things in the bunkhouse and rode back out. When I was serving supper in the dining room, he came into the kitchen to ask Josslyn to pack him a meal and a jug of coffee. I didn't get a chance to talk to him. I missed him at breakfast too. He certainly looks like a man able to do the job."

  No kidding. Her feet stopped moving, she stood there, watching the man, heart pounding. Her sisters were chattering, leaning together, walking up ahead toward the front steps. Deputy Wade Wetherby tipped his hat in Rose's direction, and she blushed prettily.

  "What's wrong?" Aumaleigh asked, stopping with her. She glanced around with concern. "Do you see something?"

  "No, I just need to speak to Mr. Reed for a moment." She caught hold of her aunt's gloved hand and squeezed gently. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. Go on ahead, keep an eye on my sisters. You know they are prone to trouble."

  "And so are you, little one." Aumaleigh's voice warmed with love. "I'll go with you."

  "I need to speak with him alone. Please." She didn't want her aunt to hear what she had to say to the rugged bounty hunter. No, that was her business, and hers alone. "You can keep an eye on me until I reach him, if that will make you feel better. He'll see me safely back to the church steps. I promise."

  "Well, it's against my better judgment." Aumaleigh bit her bottom lip, glancing from Burton to Kellan to Zane. "You're right, you're safe. I'm going to keep you in my sight, though."

  "Fine. I won't be long." She let go of her aunt's hand and whirled away, hurrying across the spongy grass with her cane, rubbing rain drops off her cheek and chin. The wind picked up, driving it at an angle. She headed straight across the lawn, straight at Zane who stood unflinching, a dark silhouette in the autumn light, watching her come.

  "Verbena!" Another man's voice called out from behind her, snagging her attention. "Why, you look lovelier than ever today in spring green. May I escort you in, my fair lady?"

  Lawrence Latimer. Verbena skidded to a halt. He wore his Sunday best today, a large fitting wool coat that looked ten years old--in good shape, but still, sadly out of fashion. His handlebar mustache looked as if he'd waxed it to make the ends
curl perfectly. He arched his brows, a hopeful suitor.

  Ugh. She really didn't want poor Lawrence. But he looked so lonely standing there all by himself, a little man out of his element in rugged Montana Territory.

  "Sorry, I need to speak to the bounty hunter. Excuse me." She offered him an apologetic smile as she continued on her way.

  "I could help," Lawrence called out, but thankfully didn't follow her.

  Interesting how Zane's chiseled, serious mouth held a smirk. She came to a breathless stop in front of him, and he arched a brow.

  "Your suitor?" he asked.

  "Not mine." She shook her head vehemently. "No more suitors. Remember?"

  "Right. He looks persistent. He's still standing there, keeping an eye on you." Zane shifted the rifle to his other shoulder. "I could discourage him if you want."

  "It might hurt his feelings." She blew out a sigh, checking over her shoulder. Yep, Lawrence stood there, rain drenched.

  "What are you doing over here?" He nodded once in the direction of the church. "Shouldn't you be in there picking out a pew with your sisters?"

  "They are the reason I'm here." She tossed her head and droplets fell off her hood. "Have you made any progress tracking Ernest?"

  "I picked up what I thought was his trail in the woods about a mile behind your house, up near the snowline." Grim, the corners of his mouth pulled downward, etching deep lines into his lean cheeks. He'd shaved this morning and the clean line of his jaw looked as invincible as the man. "Must have been him or his accomplice because it led me here. Tracks stop. He disappeared here."

  He pointed to the ground beside her. Two boot prints had filled with water, standing just behind the limbs of an evergreen tree at the edge of the church's property. Had it been Ernest? Whoever it was, her stomach twisted into a knot. She knew he hadn't gone far.

  "You were up on the mountain this morning." She glanced around the street. Muddy, with deep wagon ruts filled with water. A family was down a ways, huddled in their wagon, pulled by a big, gray-muzzled draft horse, heading toward church. Across the street were homes, some windows dark, some golden with lamplight. An icy wind breezed against her and she shivered. "You must be an early riser."