Wisteria smiled ruefully as she agreed. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you and tell Henry to wear steel-toed boots.”
The trip to town took about forty minutes at the snail’s pace Mr. Haskins set. Their first stop was the feed store on the way into town, Mr. Haskins teasing about getting his feed first before they bought out the town and left no room in the wagon.
From there it was on to Ivinson’s General Store. Seeing it was crowded as always on a Saturday morning, Jenny hastened back to the yard goods section while Wisteria browsed the selection of ready-made dresses. She found two that might do. The first she fell in love with. Done up in a light blue summer weight fabric, it had a square neckline and loose, fluttery, elbow-length sleeves. The skirt was soft and full with only a small bustle and it had a pretty full ruffle at the hem that would look lovely while dancing. It was a simple design. What made it stunning was the intricate stitching and interwoven seed pearls as embellishments. Enough to catch the eye, though not so much that it would weigh down the wearer or be too flashy.
Her only hesitation was the price tag. Eighteen dollars. The other dress, not nearly as pretty, in a yellow calico print wasn’t half as much. Biting her lip in disappointment, she put the blue dress back on the display rack.
“Wisteria, you must get the blue one. It suits you perfectly and the color will set off your eyes. You’ll look so beautiful in it, not that you don’t always,” Jenny said as she came up alongside her and pulled it back off the rack.
“It’s too much. The yellow will do.”
“For a picnic, not a dance. And it’s calico, Luke was only half joking about that.”
“If I could sew, I could make three dresses for the price of the blue one.”
“It’s the silk underlay and the stitching.”
“It’s too fancy for me and much too expensive.”
“Luke can afford it, Wisteria.”
A loud crash and breaking glass startled them both. They whirled around.
“Watch where you’re going, mister,” a man complained as he wiped at his trousers that were stained with liquid from a broken jar. “Now I smell like pickles.”
“You bumped into me, watch yerself.”
Wisteria stiffened at the sound of the disturbingly familiar male voice.
“I was standing here,” the first man disputed, “minding my own business when you careened around the corner and slammed me into the shelving. You’re paying for this.”
“I ain’t payin’ fer nothin’.”
“Here, here, gentlemen. What’s this about?” Mr. Byron, the store manager had arrived and was pushing his way through the crowd that had formed around the arguing men. With the attention of the entire store on the increasingly contentious dispute, Wisteria took it as an opportunity to step between two aisles, out of sight.
She hadn’t been sure at first, but she recognized the second man, short of stature, long stringy hair, with an unforgettable high-pitched whine.
“Someone’s gonna pay for three broken jars of pickles. There’s a sign posted at the entrance. You break it, you buy it.”
“Just pay the man, Virgil,” a new voice urged, sending chills up Wisteria’s spine. As she took another step, inching away, she frantically searched for an escape route.
“Why should I pay for a bunch of gol darn pickles when it weren’t my fault, Zeke?”
“‘Cause we gotta go.”
The name Zeke convinced her she wasn’t mistaken. She had to get out of there—fast.
“Wisteria?” Jenny was standing at the end of the aisle with a disquieted look on her face. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes,” she whispered frantically. “I have to go. I know those men and they mean trouble.”
Jenny glanced over her shoulder and frowned. “Come with me.” Without question, she led her three aisles over and through a door. “I hid from Heath in here once. No one will ever expect to find you in here.”
Shovels, hoes, trowels, and other garden equipment lined the walls. Against the far wall were hand plows and several wheelbarrows filled with large burlap bags. None of this was out of the ordinary, but the room reeked of dirt and manure for some reason.
Wisteria covered her nose. “No one would expect to find anyone alive in here. The stench is awful.”
Jenny coughed lightly. “I don’t remember it being quite so foul.” She glanced around. “There’s a back door. Come on.”
They quietly exited the rear of the building and circled around to the side. Jenny took up watch and waited for the two men to leave.
A few minutes later, she whispered, “They’re leaving, heading out on horseback toward the west end of town.”
Wisteria leaned forward and peered over her shoulder. Sure enough, Zeke and Virgil were mounted and riding in the opposite direction. She slumped heavily against Jenny, her relief was so great.
“Those two have bad news written all over them. You’re in deep trouble, aren’t you, honey?”
“Yes. And I haven’t told Luke.”
“I’m of a mind that you should do so now.”
Both women whirled to find their husbands standing in the alley behind them, arms crossed over identical broad chests with matching dour expressions.
“Heath! You gave me a fright,” Jenny declared. “What are you two doing in town?”
“Knowing we were short on help with pa still on the mend, some of the neighbors came by and pitched in. We finished up early and thought to join our wives in town, and treat them to lunch. Instead, we find you two skulking around in an alleyway.”
“We weren’t skulking.”
“It appeared so to me,” Luke added, his gaze fixed on Wisteria. “What’s going on and what haven’t you told me yet?”
At her hesitation, his lips compressed and what had started as a look of disappointment soon darkened into a cloud of anger shadowing his handsome face.
“I, uh—” she stammered under the intensity of his stare.
“Jenny?” Heath pressed.
“She’s not to blame,” Wisteria blurted out, coming to the defense of her innocent rescuer. “I saw two men I know, associates of my late husband, and I needed to escape without them seeing me.”
“And why would that be?”
“Because I saw them kill Jarrett.”
Jenny gasped. “Oh, Wisteria, how awful.”
Luke knew that Jarrett had been shot, but he didn’t have all the particulars. His brows quirked in surprise briefly as he moved closer. Standing less than an inch away from her, his hands came up to curl around her shoulders. “Out with it all,” he ordered.
“After work one evening, as I drew near, I heard angry shouts coming through the open cabin door. Micah was with me, so I hid behind some bushes while I figured out who they were and what they were about. Through a break in the shrubbery, I could see and hear all that went on. They asked Jarrett for the rest of the ‘haul.’ At the time, I had no idea what they were referring to.”
She paused, staring straight ahead and fixating on the buttons of his shirt, unable to look at him as she told the next part. It was too horrible to think of, let alone say out loud. When his fingers tightened at her prolonged pause, she forced herself to continue.
“It became evident that they hadn’t come by the money honestly when they threatened Jarrett’s life. When that didn’t get a confession, they threatened me.” She swallowed before saying haltingly, “Zeke said he’d sell me to make up their share of the loot.”
“Sell you?” Heath questioned in disbelief as if he hadn’t heard correctly.
She closed her eyes, unable to bear looking at any of them when she explained further. “To a local madame, at a brothel they knew, after they took a turn or two first.” Jenny muffled a cry with her hand as the men bit back curses, but she didn’t stop. Now that the truth was coming out, she wanted it ended. “They searched the place and when they didn’t find what they were looking for, Zeke shot Jarrett twice. As he lay bleeding, th
ey began discussing coming after me. I ran, not daring to stick around to hear more.”
“Did they see you?” Luke asked, his voice colder than she’d ever heard it.
“I don’t think so. It was dark and I was behind a hedge.”
“But you can’t be sure?”
With the shake of her head, she admitted, “No, not for certain.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Heath said, frowning at Luke. “Even for the price she would bring, it seems foolish to search for her all this time.”
“There’s more,” she supplied, in little more than a hoarse whisper.
Judiciously, Jenny skirted out of the way, going to her husband’s side as Luke took another step forward. Coming right up against her, his fingers wrapped around her upper arms as he pulled her up on her toes. Her husband’s brown eyes flashed with golden fire as they blazed down into hers.
“I’ll have it all, here and now, Wisteria. I need to know precisely what threats we’re facing.”
She swallowed, digging deeper for the courage to disclose what she’d done. “I had to get of Denver straightaway, but I had nothing with me, certainly not the means to leave town unless I went back. I waited a few hours and went in through the bedroom window. The place had been ransacked and Jarrett was long since dead, shot point blank twice in the chest.” She took a steadying breath as the gruesome sight of her dead husband’s body flashed before her. “I packed as much as I could, as fast as I could, but before I left, I checked the cash box Jarrett kept hidden beneath the floor. He never suspected that I knew about his secret stash, but that’s where I found the haul Sanders is after. It’s a small fortune, from several robberies, or perhaps a bank because there are dozens of gold coins, large rolls of bills, and expensive-looking jewelry. I’m no expert, but I’d guess it totals tens of thousands of dollars.”
Having told it all, she fell silent, waiting stoically for his reaction.
“Where is it?”
His clipped words had her glancing up. “In my carpet bag in our closet at home.”
For a moment, he stood tense, his gaze blazing down at her. “Where’s Aaron?”
Startled, she had no idea how to answer. Heath did though, seeming to know Luke was addressing him even while his calmly lethal stare was locked on her.
“Still in Cheyenne the last I heard. He’s due back tonight or on the morning train.”
“I don’t want Bozeman handling this. We need to keep it in the family and let Aaron decide.” As he spoke to his brother, his intense gaze never wavered or left her face.
“Is he going to arrest me? I didn’t spend any of it except one twenty-dollar bill. I needed supplies for the trip. It’s all still in the bag, Luke, I swear.”
“Aaron’s not going to arrest you,” Jenny stated with conviction. “Tell her, Heath.”
“I seriously doubt it, but expect an earful when he finds out you’ve been keeping this to yourself.”
“You can expect a damn sight more than an earful from me, wife.” Her eyes snapped to his, not liking the sound of that.
“I didn’t steal it, Luke. And I’ll pay the twenty dollars back. I didn’t know what else to do. I panicked.”
“I understand that. What I can’t comprehend is how you could lie to me about it for three months.” His voice was quiet, yet carried a deafening undertone of displeasure.
“I didn’t—”
“You did. Keeping a secret such as this, knowing dangerous men were after you, placing Micah at risk, as well as my family, all of it was dishonest. I was perfectly clear when we discussed honesty that first night, little miss. Yet you were lying to me even then, by omission. That is no different from telling an untruth to my face. Since my lecture didn’t stick the first time around, I’ll use other means to reinforce it, you can be sure.” He turned and faced his brother. “I’m taking her to the ranch and collecting Micah. Can you send a telegram to Aaron in Cheyenne and tell him we need him here pronto? I’d go, but I don’t want to risk her being seen by—” He stopped short, his stern gaze returning to her. “What are their names?”
“Zeke and Virgil. And there was another man named Fordy, although he wasn’t there that night. Only the other two.”
“Last names?”
“Virgil’s wasn’t mentioned. Zeke Sanders was the name of the other man. He seemed to be the leader.”
“Send their names as well, Heath. Aaron might have resources in Cheyenne to find out who these bastards are.”
“Will do, brother.” His brows gathered downward as he aimed a parting glance her way before he grabbed Jenny’s hand and pulled her along in the direction of the telegraph office. She looked after him in question. Was that concern she read? Or sympathy? Either from Heath that was telling, and made her dread the ‘other means’ Luke had referred to all the more.
“Luke, I—”
“Not another word out of you,” he snapped. “I’m too angry right now.”
With an iron grip on her arm, he led her back through the doors of the general store.
“Why are we—?”
“Quiet, Wisteria. Unless you want me to flip up your skirts and set your tail on fire right here, you won’t utter another word.”
Wisely, she bit her tongue as he towed her inside. At the milliner’s display, he picked out a large, wide-brimmed bonnet and plopped it on her head. “Tuck up your hair.”
When she pulled off the bonnet that sat uncomfortably askew, she heard a low rumble like a growl from his chest. Quickly, to show she was doing as he bade, she twisted her long braid into a knot before replacing the cloth hat. With hurried hands, he knotted the strings beneath her chin, then lifted her face, turning her head from side to side. “It will have to do as a disguise. Let’s go.”
“What about the Haskinses, won’t they be concerned?”
“They’ll be back here to look for you and Jenny, I’m sure. I’ll leave word as we settle up that we had a family emergency.”
“I don’t want to be rude.”
“Bad manners are the least of your concerns right about now, little lady.”
Heat like a flash fire burned her cheeks and her bottom tingled as she vividly recalled the hairbrush paddling she’d received on their wedding night. More images of the first time he’d taken her across his lap assailed her as he lifted her up on Track’s back and she grabbed onto the same leather saddle. As he swung up behind her, a hard forearm clamping around her waist, and he set heels to his stallion, she didn’t worry about how he planned to punish her this time. Whether by hand, paddle, or his wide stiff leather belt as he’d threatened once before, she’d take what she had coming and gladly, if it would wipe the look of disappointment from his face and get them back to where they’d been.
With lowered lashes, she didn’t try to prevent the tears that stung her eyes as he set a brisk pace out of town, keeping to back streets rather than the main thoroughfare. She didn’t try to convince herself that they overflowed and tracked down her cheeks because of the wind in her face or the dust the horse’s hooves kicked up. And when one splashed on the back of Luke’s hand and he reassured her that he’d do everything in his power to keep her and their son safe, she didn’t try to fool herself that worry made her cry.
No, her tears were about so much more. About the shame she felt for lying to a good man who hadn’t asked for any of this in his life. Who had taken on a wife and son out of the blue and done everything possible to make a home for them, one that was safe and happy. She cried over how she had foolishly risked it all with her lies. And she cried out of fear that by her thoughtless actions she might have forever destroyed what had been building over the past few months with the man she had grown to love.
Last night, while lying replete in his arms, his eyes alight from the passion they had shared, but also from what she thought were more tender emotions, her hopes had soared that he might return her feelings and one day share a deep and abiding love, as his brothers did for their wives, and his father had
with his mother. Now, those hopes were dashed, replaced by fear that those budding feelings would be forever replaced with the regret she’d glimpsed beneath his anger, along with the distrust he undoubtedly felt for a wife he hadn’t wanted. One he took on, not out of love, but in a sense of duty and desire for a child that he created.
Chapter Eighteen
Once home, Luke had marched his wayward wife up to their bedroom and had her fetch her carpet bag. Lifting the heavy satchel, he had upended it and turned the contents out onto their bed. Speechless, he’d stared at the wealth spread out before him, thousands of dollars’ worth of cash and jewelry, all hidden for months in his home without his knowledge.
What on earth had she been thinking?
He wanted to shake her and rail at her, before taking her over his knee and tanning her hide until she couldn’t sit for a week for taking such a risk with her own life and that of their child. These were vicious killers she had in essence stolen from. It seemed warped, but in their minds, this obviously stolen fortune belonged to them. They’d killed Jarrett Skeens over it and were hot on her trail to be in Laramie that day.
His need to lecture and spank some sense into her would have to wait. His first priority: ensuring her safety and eliminating the threat to his family. He repacked the carpet bag and practically hauled her downstairs to the den. Standing at his open gun case, he buckled on his double holster and checked the cylinders on his six-shot Colt Peacemakers. He also removed his Winchester Repeater and checked its load, ensuring it held a full cartridge of fifteen.
Eyeing Wisteria, he asked, “Can you handle a lever action repeater?”
“I cut my eyeteeth on one.” She offered him a small smile.
Not liking the fact that his bride was so well versed in firearms or that she had been associated with the criminal element she so obviously had, he frowned. Her smile had faded by the time he extended the weapon to her.
“How about a Schofield .45?”
Without a word, she accepted it by the grip, snapped open the break-open barrel one-handed and spun the cylinder to check the load. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the barrel clicking back into place and spun it to ensure it was engaged. Her gaze lifted to his, waiting expectantly for whatever came next.
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