High Mountain Drifter

by Jillian Hart

  "No," she said quickly, realizing what the men must be fearing. "Everything is fine. Quiet, just like we expected it to be."

  "Whew, you had us worried there for a second." Milo pretended to mop his brow and smiled. He had a quiet smile, not big and bright, but a little on the shy side. It was incomprehensible why Iris disliked this man so much.

  "I wanted to see for myself that he was locked up good and tight." It was hard to say the name now that she was so close to him, harder to make her gaze reach beyond the iron bars in the corner to the disheveled, scruffy, dirty man hunched up on a mattress, slumped, unshaven. She never would have guessed the polished, urbane, fastidious man, one of Chicago's most eligible bachelors, would end up like this. She set her chin, fisted her hands. "I wanted to see for myself that he was here. That he lost."

  "Oh, and he has," Milo ground out, a promise he looked determined to keep. "I've sent the papers in. He's formally charged. I'm asking he be held with no bail. I know the judge personally, and I'm confident he will comply. Judge Brewster isn't partial to men who hurt women."

  "Good." At least she could trust in the justice system. That the law and the men paid to enforce it would not let her down. She moved away from Zane, straightening her spine, squaring her shoulders. She needed to do this on her own. Stare down the miserable excuse for a human being who was pushing himself off the bed, standing up, lifting his unshaven upper lip to sneer at her. As if he still thought himself so fine.

  "You," he snarled, fingers wrapping around the bars of his prison, giving them an angry shake. "Have yourself another admirer do you? I saw that bounty hunter's hands all over you."

  Her knees trembled, remembering he'd been unshaven that night too, when he'd grabbed her from her home. Images from that night, ones she'd intentionally pushed down and buried, rose up, flashing before her eyes. She tried to fight them back as she crossed the room, but they didn't oblige. They filled her brain, spun her backwards, overtook her senses. The scraping burn of the rope on her wrists, abrading her skin. The metallic taste of fear in her mouth, the rapid, gasping breath as she panicked, his hand on her bare thigh, the ripping sound of fabric as her dress was torn. She blinked, banishing them. She was stronger than those memories.

  "Milo, what happened to the gag?" Zane's voice rumbled in the background.

  "He claimed he was thirsty, so after letting him bang on the bars for a while, we took him a cup and took off the gag," the sheriff explained, moving in, watchful. "I'm regretting it now."

  Verbena drew in a sustaining breath, feeling the air fill her up all the way to the bottom of her lungs, staring at him in his cell. A caged animal. She would never be afraid of a man like Ernest again. Because this is what he was. The money, the polish, the veneer of his practiced behavior had hidden it, but he'd been unmasked. This is what he was.

  "Look what you've done to me." Ernest trained his cold, eerily empty blue eyes on her, and in a flash, that malevolence disappeared, replaced by the wounded look of a man with a broken heart. "I've lost my mind over you, Verbena. You shattered me. I just loved you so much. Maybe too much."

  "This is on you." She stood before him, her knees steady, her chin set, stronger than he could ever understand. "I'm coming to the trial, Ernest. You tried to hurt me and my family, and I'm going to make sure you pay for that."

  "Okay, fine, I lost control." He tilted his head to one side, a lock of dark hair tumbling over his forehead. His crystal-blue gaze shone brightly, as if full of pain. "I was in denial, but you have to believe I was desperate. You have no idea what it's like to be hurt. You are the love of my life, dear Verbena. The woman I wanted on my arm, by my side, for the rest of my days."

  "You really have that good guy act down, don't you?" She asked, crossed her arms over her chest, a barrier, a shield. Maybe this is what she needed, to see how she'd been fooled. If she'd just met him, if she knew nothing about him, she would believe him. He seemed so sympathetic, so genuine, such a poor guy. "I'm not buying it anymore, Ernest, so you can stop. You're where you belong, and that's what I needed to see."

  Anger worked its way across his mouth, bunching and churning. "I should have killed you when I had the chance. I see now my mother was right. You were never worthy of me. I'll make you see that one day."

  Oh, she saw, all right. She reeled back a step, the predator showing once again.

  "That's enough, Craddock." Zane stepped in, his shadow falling across her, engulfing her. "Verbena, you don't need to hear any more of this. Let's go. Milo will take it from here."

  "Agreed." She felt sick now, exhausted. Facing Ernest had taken more out of her than she'd imagined. She was thankful for Zane's light touch at her shoulder, turning her around, escorting her to the door--he was such a good, good man.

  "I'll keep you posted," Milo said. "If there's anything I can do for you, just say the word."

  "Thank you, Sheriff." She really did like Milo. "He wasn't the only reason I came. I wanted to talk to you too."

  "Oh?" He hiked up a brow, curious.

  "I want to thank you for all the work you and your men did for us. I know there were many long, hard nights you all spent out there on the mountain or riding the valley searching for him." She could never be thankful enough. "So I thought I'd bake you all something. Do you happen to like chocolate?"

  "We'll like whatever you make," Milo said, as he opened the door, holding it for her. "It's not necessary."

  "Maybe I'll start with cinnamon rolls, move on to chocolate cupcakes next week." Considering it, she tumbled onto the boardwalk, grateful for the fresh air icing her face. She breathed it in, feeling like a whole new woman. Stronger. More sure. Back in control of her life. No man was ever going to take that away from her again.

  "I'll send word," Zane told Milo. "Let you know when I've caught Klemp."

  He joined Verbena on the boardwalk, focused on her. "How are you doing?"

  "Good." And it was true. She turned toward him, free of the past, her heart more open than it should be. She didn't try to close it. Instead, she placed her hand on his chest, over his beating heart. "Maybe you'll send word to me too?"

  "Maybe I will." But the promise in his gaze, his tender gaze, said something else. It said he didn't want to leave her. "We haven't talked about that kiss. You don't seem sorry about it."

  "Neither do you." She felt the thud of his heart, slow and sure, and felt the loyalty there, the integrity of a man who always did the right thing.

  She knew very little about him, but she knew him. Somehow, it was as if she'd known him forever.

  "Then I guess we can't call it a mistake." He leaned in, brushed a gentlemanly kiss to her cheek. "I'll be back, Verbena."

  Back to say goodbye. That's what he didn't say, but she knew it as surely as he did. Bittersweet, the moment, when wish and reality collided. The wish to be beaued by him, the reality that it could never happen. He might be the one man she could make an exception for, but it didn't matter. He was a man with no roots. A man made for leaving.

  He left her on the boardwalk, mounted his horse and hesitated, as if torn between dream and reality. Reality won.

  "Here comes your sisters," he said, pressing his heels to his horse's sides. "You take care, now."

  Then he was gone. Riding off in the gray November light, tall and straight, with his hair gathered in a tail at his nape, his black duster's hem blowing in the wind, taking her heart with him.

  * * *

  At the hitching post bordering the front lawn at McPhee Manor, Aumaleigh tightened the buckle on the horse blanket against the cruel wind. Poor sweet Buttons, her dear old mare, stood with her head down, braced against the gale.

  "I won't be long," she said, straightening away. "I promise. It's getting colder by the minute."

  Buttons nodded meekly, she was too good of a girl to protest. Vowing to hurry, Aumaleigh waved to Burton on guard duty, darted across the lawn and tripped up the steps. She knocked on the ornate door, varnished and polished to make it li
ke new and waited for the pounding of footsteps inside. There they were, skipping closer. Verbena peered out the window, and sheer delight crossed her lovely face.

  "Aumaleigh!" the girl said, although the glass muffled her. "Great!"

  The door swung open, more footsteps were pounding closer, and Aumaleigh slipped into the warmth of the foyer, shivering.

  "Surprise." She unwound her scarf. "I hope you don't mind I dropped by."

  "No, this is fantastic." Verbena reached out to take the scarf and hang it on the coat tree. "We were just finishing upstairs. Magnolia's all moved in."

  "Nearly!" Magnolia bopped into sight, elated, in a pink calico dress and a matching cardigan. Her blond curls bounced glossily right along with her. "Aumaleigh! So glad you came by. Come on up and see."

  She'd hardly gotten out of her coat before hands were grabbing at her. Verbena stole her garment, Magnolia grabbed her by the hand, Rose appeared on the staircase to give her a hug.

  "Ooh, so happy to see you," Rose said with a squeeze.

  "Right back at you." Beaming inside, Aumaleigh squeezed her in return. "You all look so good. Just a sight for my old eyes."

  "You're not so old," Verbena assured her, falling in beside her.

  "I'm old enough," she said lightly, hurrying upstairs right along with the girls. "I heard the good news about Ernest. Milo was right to bring in Zane."

  "Zane." Rose turned around, going backwards up the curving staircase. She waggled her brows. "Yes, so glad he's been here to catch the bad guy."

  Verbena blushed bright pink.

  "Yes," Magnolia was all too happy to agree. "I'm totally ecstatic that he was here. There's a man who knows how to catch people."

  "Especially Verbena," Rose teased.

  Oh, so now it all made sense. Aumaleigh bit her lip, not sure if the stoic bounty hunter was a fit match for her precious niece. Then again, maybe it was just a crush. Crushes were harmless, and honestly, sometimes a girl just had to dream. It could get you through the rough spots. Heaven knew it had been that way with Gabriel at first.

  Even at the thought of his name, her feet missed a step and she nearly stumbled. The girls were too busy teasing each other to notice--Rose had the deputy to endure quips over, Magnolia had her new fiancé. And if Verbena wanted to be sweet on the man who'd caught Craddock, then that was good, too. Maybe there was hope the girl could get over what had been done to her, that she could find a way to move on and trust men again. She deserved happiness with a good man. Absolutely.

  The last thing Aumaleigh wanted for her nieces was to live the life she had--as a spinster, now officially an old maid. Once you were fifty, there weren't a lot of eligible bachelors heading your way because at fifty, if a man was available then there had to be a good reason for it. At least, that's what she told herself.

  "Look!" Magnolia proudly gestured toward her open doorway. "Tyler made the bookcases and window seat just for me."

  "Oh," Aumaleigh breathed, coming to a surprised stop, hand on the doorframe. Comfortably lavish. That's how she would describe the room. The delicate cream wallpaper on the walls, matching the soft red-gold gleam of the floor, trim and moldings. The canopy bed was made of the same wood, gleaming like polished glass. Soft pink curtains draped from the bed held back by velvet ribbons in a darker shade of pink. A quilt--a very familiar quilt--covered the double bed adding an array of pastel colors--pinks, blues, greens, yellows, but mostly pink.

  "We still need to make a cushion for the window seat." Magnolia danced past the overstuffed chair and ottoman in front of the stone hearth, where a small fire snapped and crackled. "We've borrowed this cushion from downstairs."

  "There might be one in the attic upstairs that will fit better," Aumaleigh suggested, adoring Tyler even more than she already did for what he'd done for Magnolia. What he'd clearly done out of love.

  The large bay window was new. The seat had lovely drawers beneath it for storing things. A bookcase built into the wall nearby already teamed with favorite volumes. The same pink fabric from the bed adorned the windows, pulled back to let in light and views of the mountains and valley. Down below she could see Buttons, head down, hunkered against the cold wind.

  Iris turned from the matching wardrobe where Magnolia's new dresses hung in a tidy row and closed the carved doors. "I heard you teasing Verbena about Mr. Reed. No more teasing. Not unless I'm there to join in."

  "Hey, it's not teasing as much as it is being effusive with happiness for her." Rose shouldered out into the hall, willowy and adorable, so like her mother had been. "And if I'm teased about Wade, then it's only fair."

  "That's right, we want to distribute the teasing evenly," Verbena agreed, mischievously, exquisite little dimples accenting her smile. "Since I don't have an official beau, then I'm out of it. All the teasing should be directed solely on Rose."

  "Hey! I protest," Rose called from the hallway. "And being sweet on someone is almost the same as having a beau, for teasing purposes."

  "Agreed," Magnolia said with a wave of her hand, drawing Aumaleigh's attention. A glittery diamond-ringed emerald adorned her left hand.

  "An engagement ring!" Melting at heart, Aumaleigh surged forward, wanting a closer look. "When did this happen?"

  "Oh, right. This morning." Magnolia rolled her eyes, charmingly, her gold hair bobbing. She held out her hand, tearing up a little when she gazed upon the ring. "He gave it to me right there on the window seat. It feels so official now. I'm going to be married!"

  "Poor Tyler," Iris gently teased as she moved to smooth a wrinkle in the bed quilt. "He doesn't know what he's in for."

  "I know, right?" Magnolia gave a happy little sigh. "But I'm not even going to talk about wedding plans until after Daisy is married. She deserves all the focus and attention. She's been our fearless leader for so long. This is her moment."

  "And you will have yours, too," Aumaleigh promised, looking forward to those weddings to come.

  "Aumaleigh didn't see what happened earlier." Rose's voice came muffled from down the hall. "You know, in town?"

  "Tell me." Aumaleigh wanted to know.

  "Ooh, Zane scooped Verbena off the boardwalk in front of the mercantile and rode off with her down the street," Magnolia happily dispatched the news. "In his arms. On his saddle."

  "On his lap," Iris said with a disapproving scrunch of her eyebrows. "I'm not sure that was entirely appropriate, Verbena, but it was rather romantic at the same time."

  "It was so my shoes and dress wouldn’t get muddy," Verbena said airily, as if the act held no significance whatsoever. She wandered over to the closest window to fiddle with the velvet sash holding the drape back from the glass. "He was being gentlemanly not romantic."

  "Just keep telling yourself that," Rose said from down the hall. "But we don't believe it."

  "No, we don't," Magnolia agreed. "Sorry, sis."

  "What kind of man do you think Mr. Reed is?" Iris asked. "We know so little about him."

  "We know that Milo approves of him," Aumaleigh spoke up, noting how Verbena's slender shoulders stiffened. She knew Iris was only being protective, as a sister should, but it was easy to guess this was a difficult thing for Verbena, caring for another man after the last one had injured her so badly. "Milo is a good man. He'd never bring in someone who wasn't trustworthy and honorable."

  "Well, that is exactly why I have to ask the question." Iris looked slightly irritated at the mention of Milo's name. "My opinion isn't so high of that sheriff, I'm afraid."

  Sweet, tender Iris. Aumaleigh bit her bottom lip, having to wonder what prompted such strong feelings. She had a hunch that Iris didn't understand it herself.

  "What you and Iris need," Rose said a little breathily from down the hall, her footsteps tromping closer. "Are beaus. Then Iris would forget all about being mad at anyone, and we wouldn't have to worry about you being alone, Aumaleigh."

  "Me? You girls worry about me? Goodness, that is the last thing that should be troubling you." She waved
her hand, dismissing their concern. "I'm happy to be an old maid, trust me. Rose, I see you found the cushion I mentioned."

  "It's really dusty." Rose coughed, coming to a stop outside the door. "It was covered in cobwebs. I had to chase a spider off it, but I think if we take it outside and beat it real good, then wash the cushion, it should be fine."

  "And it's in a cabbage rose print, so it practically matches." Magnolia lit up, bounding over to see it, her energy contagious. "It looks to be the right size."

  "Very close," Rose agreed. "I'll get started on it now."

  "I'll come with you." Magnolia bounded off, grabbing the other end of the rather large cushion to help carry it.

  "Well, I think we're finally done in here." Iris looked around, taking in every detail, nodding in satisfaction. "The first room is finished. Now on to the others."

  "I see Tyler has already started demolition in the last bedroom." She eased out to peer into the room where she'd found Gabriel's letter. Good thing she'd taken out all of the old paperwork and personal things. The furniture was gone, as were the tapestries, the drapes and the carpet. The oak floor had been pried up to show the subflooring beneath, the walls just the skeletal wood supports.

  "That's going to be my room," Verbena spoke up, still a little pink in the cheeks from the mention of the rugged but good looking bounty hunter. "Tyler is going to refinish the window seat for me too, in honey oak, since that's my favorite."

  "And he's making good progress on Rose's room." Iris stooped to check the fire and that the screen was correctly placed. "It already looks wonderful."

  "So I see." She leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, pausing to take a look. The walls had been rebuilt, the large bow window was new, taking advantage of the breathless mountain view. It was easy to picture it with pretty wallpaper and glossy floors, with beautiful furniture and a fire in that gray stone hearth.

  It did her heart good to see this house full of life and laughter and the sisters' love for each other. The old memories had been replaced with happy ones, the room now rang with laughter. It felt hopeful. Like maybe the past really could be laid to rest, just set down like a burden you no longer wanted to carry and left behind. A past she could walk away from forever.