by Liliana Hart
“Good afternoon, Miss Adelaide,” Elizabeth said sweetly.
“Elizabeth,” Adelaide said sourly. “What’s your business?”
“I need to make a withdrawal.”
“Does your husband know about this?” Her pale blue eyes narrowed menacingly.
“Yes, he does. But I’m not withdrawing from our personal account. I’m withdrawing from the ranch account.”
“Hmmph,” she said. “I think your father must have been losing his mind in his last days. And for your poor husband to go along with it…” Adelaide shook her head with disdain, but took the paper Elizabeth slid toward her so she could start the withdrawal process. “What kind of man lets his wife have that kind of control over the finances? Certainly not one I want acting as sheriff come election time. If a man can’t control his wife, he surely can’t control the population.”
“So you’ve said before,” Elizabeth said, her face flushing hotly because Adelaide was talking loud enough for everyone left in the bank to hear.
“This is a sizeable amount of money.” Adelaide pursed her lips tightly as she studied the withdrawal form. “More than you usually take out. I don’t know what you’re planning, but you can be sure that I’ll keep him informed. I won’t allow any funny business on my watch. And you’re just the type of woman to take something right out from under your husband’s nose and do what you want with it. Your father gave you too much freedom growing up, letting you wear men’s clothes and learning to shoot and rope cattle. You’ve got too much independence and not enough sense. You’d think you were a man with the way you conduct yourself. Your mama must be rolling over in her grave to see what you’ve become.”
“I’m sure Mama is resting peacefully,” Elizabeth said between gritted teeth. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got an appointment I need to keep.”
If she didn’t get out of this bank soon, her own husband was going to have to arrest her for murder.
“You didn’t tell me what you needed the withdrawal for,” Adelaide said stiffly.
“Oh, I thought you knew already. Everyone else in town has been talking about it.” Elizabeth looked at her with pity and then instantly felt remorse. She just couldn’t sink to Adelaide’s level. “We’re ready to build the new barn. All the supplies are in at the lumber mill.”
“I guess Sheriff MacKenzie lets you run as wild and free as your father did. It’s no wonder he’s been looking for outside work to distance himself from you. Your ways will ruin a man like Cole MacKenzie.”
Adelaide’s smile was full of spite, and Elizabeth knew she was luring her into a trap. But it was an arrow that hit a little too close to the bullseye. And Adelaide knew it.
“But Cole is a smart man,” Adelaide continued. “I heard a US Marshal was in town and they’ve been talking all day. It’s only a matter of time before he pins that star to his vest and takes off to parts unknown. His skills are so renowned that the president sent his top man to recruit him. You wouldn’t want to hold him back, would you? It’s not like you’ve got a bump growing under those trousers you insist on wearing. Doesn’t seem to me like Cole MacKenzie has much of a reason to stay in Surrender at all.”
Elizabeth knew she was pale. And her hand shook slightly as she reached out to take the money. Once she’d secured it in her bag, she took a step back and decided the best course of action was to just walk away. But she couldn’t do it this time. No one ever stood up to Adelaide. The people of Surrender just let her spew vitriol and then walked away with their tails tucked between their legs.
Talking back would only lead to more trouble. The rumors would be vicious. And it wasn’t only herself she had to think about. Cole was an important man in town, and he had a great deal of responsibility. She didn’t want to hurt his reputation more than she probably had already. But she just couldn’t stand by any longer.
“Adelaide Murchison,” Elizabeth said with a slight quiver to her voice, but it was loud enough to catch everyone’s attention. “You are the most hateful, spiteful woman I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet. I remember your parents from when I was a child, and they were some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. So if you want to talk about people rolling in their graves then maybe you should look a little closer to home.”
Someone gasped from behind her, and Leroy Henry’s eyes were big and round behind his spectacles.
“You don’t know me or my husband, and you never knew the kind of man my father was, because he couldn’t stand to be in a room with you and share the same air. But know this,” she said, her voice ringing in the deafening silence. “You’ll reap your reward. You’re so busy judging and gossiping about everyone else that you’ve forgotten the sermon Reverend Graham has preached on several times. You might think that you’re ruling your little part of earth, but your judgment day is coming. And you should be afraid because you’re about the most un-Christian woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Adelaide gasped and clutched a hand to her breast, and Elizabeth nodded righteously. She felt vindicated and remorseful at the same time. She’d never backed away from a fight in her life, but it wasn’t in her nature to be cruel. And she was sure she’d have to do penance for it later. But later seemed like a long ways off.
“I pray that you find peace somewhere in your soul and that your bitterness no longer eats you alive.” With that, Elizabeth nodded her head once to Adelaide, did the same to Leroy, and turned on her heel to walk out of the bank, avoiding the wide-eyed stares of everyone else.
She pulled on the door, and it blew open with a hard gust of wind and snow. A man dressed in a nice suit and long wool overcoat, a hat pulled low over his eyes, was trying to get inside just as she was leaving, and they shuffled awkwardly around each other. He muttered a “Beg your pardon,” and then moved to the side so she could get by.
The door closed behind her and her only thought was finding her husband. If Miss Adelaide was right, he had some explaining to do.
Chapter Two
Cole MacKenzie knew there was going to be trouble the minute the man walked through the door of the sheriff’s office.
He wasn’t a big man—maybe five foot nine in his boots—and his frame was on the thin side. Average was the word that came to mind. Followed closely by deadly. His duster was coated with a layer of grime and snow from a hard ride, and Cole saw the two pistols, one on each hip, as he walked toward him. He also saw the US Marshal’s star pinned to his vest.
He pulled down the bandana that had protected his face from the storm and said, “Sheriff MacKenzie?” He pushed his hat back slightly so Cole could see his eyes. The eyes never lied.
Cole sighed, confident in his original observation that the man was going to be trouble. He didn’t bother to remove his feet from his desk or stand up to greet the man properly. Others had come for him, and they’d all left without completing their mission.
“I’m Cole MacKenzie,” he said. “And I’m not interested.”
The man grinned, but Cole saw it in the wrinkling of his eyes since his mustache was so bushy it covered his lips. The marshal removed his hat and hung it on the rack next to Cole’s, and then he did the same with his duster, clearly planning to make himself at home.
“You never know what you might be interested in until you know what you’re interested in,” the man said cryptically.
“Deep thoughts,” Cole said.
With the hat and coat gone, Cole took a closer inventory of the man. He was younger than he’d first assumed, his hair a rich black in need of a trim. The drooping mustache was peppered with gray, making him seem older than he was. His eyes were a soft green, but Cole recognized the look in them—they were eyes that had seen too much—eyes that were a window to a broken soul.
Cole’s eyes were blue, but he saw that same look in the mirror every morning, though since he’d married Elizabeth, the broken pieces had started to stitch themselves together again. But still, like recognized like.
The man was dressed much like C
ole—black trousers, black vest, and a white shirt—though Cole had his sleeves rolled up. He hated anything constricting his movements if he needed to reach for his gun.
“You got any coffee?” the man asked. “I’ve missed out on a few nights of sleep to get here. I didn’t think I’d make it once the snow started. I have to admit, I’m looking forward to a hot meal and a bed.”
“You can get everything you want over at the Surrender Hotel,” Cole said, seeing the weariness in the man’s eyes. “I was just about to head over there myself to meet my wife. Things in town have already started to shut down. I’ll drink a cup of coffee with you while you get a hot meal.”
“I’d be grateful for the company since you’re the reason I’m hungry and tired to begin with.”
There was still a glimmer of laughter in the man’s eyes, and Cole decided they’d get along just fine if the marshal was there for any other reason. It wasn’t like Cole had gotten a lot accomplished throughout the day. His thoughts had been on his wife since he’d kissed her good-bye that morning, and he’d been restless and looking at the clock ever since. He couldn’t decide if it was because a blizzard was coming to town or because he was afraid of what might happen when he and Elizabeth were stuck in a room together for two days.
He didn’t know much about marriage. He and his brother hadn’t had a very good example to go by. But he knew he loved his wife, and there was nothing more important than seeing a smile on her face. And he’d failed somewhere along the way. More often than not he’d catch her staring at him—a sadness or longing in her eyes—and he knew he was losing her. What he didn’t know was how to fix it.
The last year had been difficult for Elizabeth. Her father, John Ross, had known he was sick, and he’d spoken to Cole about his wishes for them to marry and for the ranch to be passed to Cole since Elizabeth couldn’t directly inherit. The thing was, Cole would’ve eventually asked Elizabeth to marry him—once he found time in his schedule. Sometimes the job took him away for days at a time if there was a manhunt or if someone needed to be tracked.
He’d wanted to give Elizabeth a little more time to grow into herself. She was barely twenty years old, but she knew how to run the ranch from the ground up. And Cole had promised John that he’d let Elizabeth run the ranch as she saw fit. The hiring, firing, herding, and selling of cattle were all her decisions. Not to say that he didn’t lend a strong back from time to time. It was a legacy that would be passed down to their children and grandchildren after all.
But he felt like Elizabeth was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. She’d never really grieved her father’s passing. Then they’d gotten married before there was even time for a funeral. And though they’d known each other and were friendly, they hadn’t known each other like people who were to be married should. It had been a chaotic time, and they’d immediately gone from wedding, to funeral, to trying to make their lives seem normal. Elizabeth had thrown herself into getting the ranch in order, watching men she’d known since she was a child pack their bags and leave because they wouldn’t take orders from a woman.
He’d stood by helpless, not knowing how to draw her in, how to make things better, and instead, he’d just focused on what he knew. And that was law and order. By any means necessary. And though they’d made a physical connection that was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, it wasn’t enough for him.
It was Elizabeth’s longtime foreman, Lester, who’d taken pity on Cole and pulled him aside when he’d asked what he should do. Lester had told him it was time to take charge and not be too passive in Elizabeth’s grief. She was a strong woman—independent—and she’d move ahead on her own if Cole didn’t act as if he wanted to move forward together.
They’d never had a honeymoon, and Lester said it was long past time they did. Cole didn’t even think Elizabeth realized that the next day would mark a year of their marriage. And though they couldn’t take a lot of time away and leave Surrender, they could hole up with a soft bed, a tub that ran its own hot water, and food delivered to their doorstep. And maybe by the time they left the Surrender Hotel, they’d know exactly who the real Cole and Elizabeth MacKenzie were.
“You still with me?” the man asked.
“Just took a side trip,” Cole answered. “It’s been a long day.”
“If you ask me, you’ve got the look of a man who has a woman on the brain.”
“I knew you’d be trouble the minute you walked in the door.”
“And I’ve got a real winning personality too.”
Cole couldn’t help but laugh. He stood and glanced through the big plate glass windows that gave him a perfect view of his town. He’d already sent out men to tell everyone to close things down early. There was already a foot of snow on the ground, but visibility had gotten worse as the day progressed.
“You got a name?” Cole asked the man. “I like to know who I’m saying no to.”
The man’s droopy mustache lifted again. “My apologies. After finding you, coffee and a bed were the only things on my mind. And maybe a woman, but I think I’m too tired for that.”
“Probably a good thing,” Cole said. “Those kind of women more than likely have a line of customers. It is a blizzard after all.”
“Good point. Besides, I’m not like the others. I’m a lot harder to say no to. The name’s Jesse Calhoun.”
Cole felt a shiver of something he couldn’t explain run up his spine—excitement?—anticipation? Jesse Calhoun was probably the most notorious lawman in the country. He was a legend.
Cole put his hat and duster on while Jesse did the same, then he grabbed the overnight bag he and Elizabeth had packed that morning. He opened the door and held it steady so it wasn’t blown into the wall. The cold slashed at his exposed skin like a knife. He closed the door behind them, but he didn’t bother to lock up. Carl would be there before long and would bunk in the back room. If there were any emergencies, he would see to things.
He ducked his head against the wind as they made their way across the street. He hadn’t uttered a word since Jesse had told him his name. Questions raced through his mind. Why was President Harrison so desperate to recruit him as a US Marshal that he’d send the man with the highest kill and capture rate to hunt him down? Maybe it was symbolic. But everyone knew who Jesse Calhoun was, and the gut feeling that had saved his life more than once in battle was stirring uncomfortably.
“Nothing but trouble,” he muttered under his breath.
“What’s that?” Jesse asked, still grinning. “I don’t think I heard you right. Wind’s too loud.”
“This is a bad one. Hope you’re planning to stay a few days. If you hadn’t come in when you did, we’d be discovering your body in a snow drift in a few weeks. A hell of a way to go.”
Jesse shivered and shook his head. “I don’t know how you stand it. This Texas boy wouldn’t last long up here. I’m out of my territory. It’s March. Snow for that many months in a row would make me crazy.”
“It makes a lot of people crazy. The start of spring is always my busiest time of year. People are tired of being cooped up, and they’re tired of the cold. And you can only do so much of the one thing that keeps two people both warm and out of trouble, though that sometimes leads to plenty of trouble in itself.”
Jesse laughed. “People can always find plenty of trouble. Too hot, too cold, or just the wrong day of the week. Sometimes makes you wonder why we even bother at all.”
“Someone’s got to,” Cole said, but he felt the weariness of the responsibility they’d been taxed with. Especially in this part of the country. People wanted to take care of their own in their own way, no matter the result. And then there were others who wanted to take advantage of the remote area and difficult terrain.
“You’ve got yourself a nice town here,” Jesse said. “Lots of progress coming through.”
Surrender was more than a nice town. It had become his home like no place ever had before. His soul had connected with Sur
render the moment he’d seen it—a hidden jewel of hills and valleys and crystalline lakes, when it wasn’t covered in a layer of white. He didn’t know how long he’d sat at the top of the hill just looking down at it, the sun at his back and his future in front of him.
It had grown since he’d become sheriff, mostly because of the railroad they’d built just outside of town. The last train had left early that morning, and there wouldn’t be another until the storm had passed.
The main street was lined on each side with wooden buildings that had all been white-washed to match. The Surrender Hotel sat right in the middle across the street from the sheriff’s office, and it was three full stories, with fancy glass that had been brought in all the way from Boston. The lights inside were a beacon through the increasingly heavy snow.
The street was newly cobbled, but it didn’t make much difference with the snow. There were hitching posts and watering troughs, but there was no sign of life on the street other than the two of them.
Along with the hotel and the sheriff’s office, the other businesses located along each side of the cobbled street were a blacksmith shop, mercantile, haberdashery, gunsmith, apothecary, and a saloon. There was even a lawyer from back east who’d put up his shingle after the railroad was finished. And he was glad to see everything was dark inside each of the businesses and everyone had gone home.
There was a livery stable with a large paddock set some ways back because the area was often congested with wagons and horses. The bank was located on the other side of the livery, but far enough away to avoid the smell. And at the very end of the street was a white-steepled church, with a bell that was rung on the hour while the train was running. He hated that bell.
Surrender was the closest place to shop, restock, or trade for a lot of folks in the area. Otherwise, it was a three-day ride to Billings.
“We’re going to have to make some changes soon,” Cole acknowledged. “With progress comes problems. It’s too much progress for a lot of the folks here. The railroad changed everything. Too many transients. Too much money with the business people coming in from the cities. That means more crime. Train robberies have been as much of a concern as stagecoach robberies.”