Survivor Pass

by Shirleen Davies

  She leaned back in her chair, placing her hands in her lap. “Will you be staying?”

  “Seems likely.” Cash sat back as Betts set their plates down.

  Alison ate slowly, glancing across the table at Cash. In her mind, he couldn’t be described as handsome, yet the creases in his forehead and the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled gave him character she found captivating and quite appealing. She couldn’t define what made her feel edgy, though, her body tensing the longer they sat in silence. Finishing her meal, she set her fork down, clasping her hands in her lap.

  “What did you do before coming to Splendor?” she asked when he took his last bite.

  “I fought for the South. When the war ended, Beau and I met up, traveling west as bounty hunters.”

  A shiver went up her back. “I don’t recall ever meeting a bounty hunter. It’s not a profession most men would choose.” Wrapping her hands around a steaming cup of coffee, she took a sip, glancing over the rim to see his impassive expression.

  “Perhaps not, but war changes men in ways that can’t be predicted. We had the skills, needed the money, and the number of men with bounties was high. Still is.” He shrugged. “We did what needed to be done.”

  “Such as?” Her brow quirked up, leaning forward in her seat.

  When he remained silent, she thought he’d decided not to answer. Then he leaned toward her, resting his arms on the table.

  “That’s a story for another time.”

  Alison shook her head. She’d been right about him being a man of many secrets. She knew it would take time to gain his trust. Getting to know the people in Splendor could only help her as she identified the man who killed her brother. So far, she’d kept her questions about the bank robbery and killings to herself, not wanting to draw attention to her curiosity about an event happening months before. Having supper with Cash had been a nice distraction. The time had now come to get the answers she needed to give her mother peace, and mend the ache in her own heart.

  ~~~~~

  Chapter Four

  Cash sat on the edge of the desk in the sheriff’s office as he rifled through wanted posters, recalling his conversation with Sheriff Parker Sterling in Big Pine. He’d stopped there on his way back to Splendor, expecting to say hello, then leave. Instead, he’d been given some unsettling news.

  “Cash Coulter. You’re a sight for sore eyes.” Sheriff Sterling walked around his desk, extending his hand. “It’s been too long. I heard you left Splendor a few months ago. Where’ve you been?” He moved to a nearby table, pouring coffee into two tin cups and handing one to Cash, then motioning to a chair.

  “Thanks.” Cash took the cup, sipping the hot liquid. He’d made good time after passing through a freak storm in the Dakotas. “Been helping a friend in Arkansas. We served together during the war.”

  “Yep, I know how that is. You carve a bond with men when you trust them to have your back during battle. Those bonds can last a long time.” Parker sat back, his eyes focused on a spot across the room before looking once more at Cash. “I trust all went well.”

  “It did. It’s time I got myself back to Splendor, though. I don’t want Gabe to give away my badge.”

  “I doubt there’s much chance of that.” Parker chuckled. He set down his cup, then pulled open a drawer. “I have something here you might be interested in seeing.” Sorting through a stack of paper, he pulled two out, sliding them across the desk to Cash. “Appears one of the men shot during the bank robbery in Splendor may have two brothers.”

  Cash studied the wanted posters, cursing when he noticed the names and resemblance to the oldest outlaw they killed months before during a failed bank robbery.

  “Milton and Harrison Penderville. As I recall, the one who died was Chet Penderville. Same features as these two.” Cash slid the posters back across the desk. “I figure you’re showing these to me for a reason. What do you know about them?”

  “I got a telegram from a friend who’s a sheriff in the Dakota Territory. Seems these two, and a few others, came through town a week ago. Stirred up quite a fuss, roughed up some locals, and rode out without settling the hotel bill. He didn’t know who they were until he searched his posters, finding these. He wanted to be sure I had them in case they came our way.”

  “Says they’re from Virginia. Gabe, Beau, and I figured Chet Penderville and his gang were mostly disgruntled ex-Confederates, out for whatever they could get.”

  “A lot of them out there. Figure the government, even the people, owe them something.” Parker stood, filling his cup, then tilted the pot toward Cash, who shook his head. “Can’t blame them in some ways, but a man has no right to turn his hate on innocent people and take what isn’t theirs. I thought you’d want to know…in case they show up in Splendor.”

  Cash scrubbed a weary hand down his face, his eyes red from lack of sleep. Pushing up from the chair, he handed his cup back to Parker, rubbing a hand behind his neck.

  “Guess this isn’t going to end anytime soon,” he said, turning toward the door.

  “Not in our lifetime anyway. I expect nothing but trouble from the east over the next several years. Too many people lost their homes, jobs, and families. Some are looking for revenge, others for a new start. Trouble is, you can’t pick out the good from the bad much of the time.” Parker followed Cash to the door, pulling it open.

  “Not until it’s too late.” Cash’s tired, road weary voice spoke as much about his current state as his appearance.

  Now, a week later, he looked at each poster, trying to locate the ones of the bank robbers who died the previous summer. One by Cash’s bullet. Gabe had a habit of keeping old posters, not wanting to forget the ones who’d been captured or killed for their misdeeds. Something about the youngest outlaw bothered him. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but felt certain if he could see the image of the boy, it would help him figure out the mystery haunting him.

  “Heard you had supper with the new seamstress last night.” Beau walked toward him, hanging his hat on a hook, then turned a chair around, resting his arms on the back.

  “News travels fast,” Cash muttered, not looking up from the stack of posters.

  “Some does. Other news takes time, such as what happened in Little Rock.” Beau watched as Cash set the papers aside and crossed his arms.

  “Not much to tell.” He offered a shortened version of what happened at Stephen’s ranch and his father-in-law’s duplicity. “Finding Wyatt Jackson had been the turning point in our effort to rid the area of the raiders Helen’s father had sent to drive Stephen out. Wyatt did what he promised—captured the leader who’d been accused of murder, gave us the name of the man who hired them, and left the others to fend for themselves. The fact is, I doubt the outlaw ever saw a jail or jury.”

  “That doesn’t bother you?” Beau asked, watching Cash’s face, seeing his jaw tense.

  “Not one bit.”

  “Too much like what happened to your family in Louisiana.” Beau stood, turning the chair back around and pacing to the old stove, picking up a tin cup. “Coffee?”

  Cash nodded, accepting the cup as he thought about how he’d doled out justice to those who’d murdered his kin. He understood the type of justice Wyatt intended to impose. A life for a life, the same as Cash had delivered to the men who’d killed his family. In his world, a man took care of those he loved.

  “What happened with the father-in-law?”

  Cash set his cup down, remembering the results of Stephen’s telegram to Helen’s father.

  “It took one telegram to get the lonely, embittered man to call off the rest of the gang. Thankfully, no additional raids had occurred and no one died. A miracle, considering the type of men the old man hired.”

  Cash’s jaw hardened as he wondered about what possessed a man to rain vengeance down on the man his daughter loved, the father of his grandson. The death of his wife turned him from a man who disapproved of his daughter’s choice into one who soug
ht the kind of justice no one could explain. No amount of reason could ease his mind. Those who lost loved ones could become extreme in assuaging their pain, often placing blame where none existed.

  He was glad to be home in Splendor and the life he’d begun with people who cared about one another and had each other’s back.

  “Hello, Mrs. Burns. We have the wood you ordered for your new shelves.”

  Alison smiled at the young man behind the counter at the lumber mill. Enthusiastic and friendly, he’d helped her when she’d first arrived in town and needed assistance setting up her store.

  “Thank you, Monty. Will you be able to deliver it to me?” She counted out the amount he quoted, placing it in his palm.

  “Sure thing, Mrs. Burns. I’ll have the order over to you this afternoon.”

  Turning, Alison closed her reticule, almost bumping into the man standing behind her.

  “Oh, pardon me…”

  “Mrs. Burns. It’s good to see you again.” Cash tipped his hat, stepping aside to give her space. “What brings you here today?”

  It had been a week since they’d had supper together, and she still felt an odd rush of uneasiness in his presence. He’d been a perfect gentleman, their conversation congenial. She didn’t want to even consider her feelings for him might have more to do with attraction than caution.

  “Monty made some shelves for my shop.”

  “I’d be happy to bring them over and put them together for you.” He leaned against the counter, noticing Monty a few feet away, taking in every word.

  “Thank you, but Monty is delivering them this afternoon. I’m not an expert, but I believe I can handle a hammer and nails well enough to create my shelves.”

  His gaze narrowed at her, a brow quirking up. “I’m sure you can, Mrs. Burns, but I have the time. Why don’t I come by later and take care of it so you can concentrate on your work. There’s no reason for you to lose income while building a shelf.”

  “As much as I appreciate your offer, it’s not necessary.” Although a part of her welcomed whatever help she could get, she knew being cooped up in her store with Cash for a few hours wouldn’t help her concentrate on the work she needed to complete. In fact, he’d be a major distraction.

  “I understand. In truth, you’d be helping me,” he confessed, a sheepish grin tilting his lips up.

  She cocked her head to one side, studying him. “How would it help you?”

  “It would be a nice change to work with my hands. If you’d prefer to do it yourself, I’ll understand. But if you could use the help…” He stared at her, waiting for a response.

  His gentle voice, almost a plea, softened her feelings. Alison hadn’t expected such an honest and sincere response. She let out a deep breath.

  “If you’re certain, then yes, I’d appreciate your help.” She looked at Monty, who hadn’t hidden his curiosity at their exchange. “Thank you again, Monty.”

  “Like I said, I’ll bring over the wood early this afternoon.” Turning, he walked toward a workbench, leaving them alone.

  “I need to stop by the bank. May I escort you to your shop?”

  She nodded, slipping her hand through the arm he offered. “Your offer is very generous, Mr. Coulter.”

  “I’ve learned a few things during my time in Splendor. One of them is the people in this town help each other.”

  “My experience is many people offer, but few respond when needed.” Alison thought back to her mother and how no one offered any assistance when her mother went from farm to farm, asking for a few hours of their time to help with the crops. She’d been turned away by neighbor after neighbor. No one had time for the war widow or her needs.

  “Then you’ve been living in the wrong place. Perhaps Splendor is what you’re searching for.”

  She glanced at him, her gaze focusing on his ever observant eyes. “And what makes you think I’m searching?”

  “Well, now, let’s just say you have this look about you telling others you’re not quite sure where you stand. Experience tells me it’s a look of someone not ready to put down roots or make close friends.” He looked down at her. “Am I right?”

  The comment surprised her, causing her heart to race. Cash had read her so easily. Had others?

  “Maybe it’s the look of someone trying to fit in.” Her mind whirled as they continued toward the shop. Her plans were set. She didn’t need anyone in Splendor questioning her motives for being here.

  Cash mulled her comment over for a brief moment, then chuckled. “I don’t think so, but perhaps you’ll prove me wrong.” Stopping at the entrance to the shop, he waited while she pulled out her key. “I’ll see you in a couple hours, Mrs. Burns.”

  Nodding, Alison disappeared inside, closing the door behind her. Shrugging out of her coat, she took a deep breath to calm the panic caused by Cash’s comments. He’d somehow figured out there was more to her settling in Splendor than the need to move west. Or had it just been a lucky guess? Either way, she needed to squelch those thoughts and get him to believe her sole motivation for leaving Kentucky was to begin a new life, away from the ravages of war. The fact she planned to kill one of the locals could never come to light.

  “All done.” Cash stepped back after securing the shelving to the wall, checked his work, then made one more adjustment.

  “It’s perfect. I don’t know how you were able to build it in such a short period of time.” Alison studied it, then turned toward him, her eyes sparkling. “You’ve done so much better than I could’ve ever done.”

  Chuckling, he set the hammer down. “I would hope so. I used to help with the carpentry on my uncle’s farm.”

  “You’re hired for any other projects.” Walking to her work table, she picked up her coin purse. “How much do I owe you?”

  He looked as if she’d slapped him. “You don’t owe me anything.” He held up his hand when she started to protest. “I did it because we’re neighbors, not because I expect anything in return.” Looking out the window at the darkening sky, Cash grabbed his coat, slipping it on before walking toward her. “It felt good doing physical work, building something useful.”

  “Can I at least offer you more coffee? Or supper?”

  “I don’t believe I can drink one more cup, and as much as I’d like to stay and sample your cooking, Sheriff Evans asked me to make the rounds tonight. I’d best get going.” He settled his hat down and smiled. “Thank you. It’s been a good day.”

  “For me also, Mr. Coulter.” She stepped to within a foot of him, feeling a pull she couldn’t break. Staring up into his eyes, she watched as they widened and his face softened.

  He closed the distance between them, tilting her chin up with his finger, deep hunger gripping him as her tongue slipped out to moisten her full, red lips. He let out a breath, then lowered his head, placing a soft kiss on her forehead before stepping back.

  “Have a good evening, Mrs. Burns.”

  He walked out without another word. Alison had never known a man like him. There was something about him that drew her in, even as parts of her wanted to pull back. After studying him all day, she decided it was his eyes. Light green in the center with a circle of deep green rimmed with black, they never seemed to stop searching. They were almost haunting, holding tight onto whatever secrets Cash didn’t want to share. Not too much different than her.

  He was right to imply Alison held secrets. Watching him today, she had no doubt he held some, too.

  Stepping into the crisp evening air, he looked up the street, then down, noting the progress on a couple new buildings. The town had grown since he’d left for Little Rock. He’d been gone a few short months, yet he’d still been surprised at the changes.

  “Cash.”

  He turned at the familiar voice and smiled. “Noah.”

  “Thought I recognized Hunter outside the sheriff’s office. Did you just get back?”

  “Close to a week ago. I’ve stopped by the livery a few times to visit. Where have y
ou been hiding?”

  “Abby needed my help with some business in Big Pine. I saw Sheriff Parker while we were there and he told me you’d ridden out early that morning.” Noah shook his head. “I’m surprised we didn’t see you.”

  “I got in late and left early.”

  Noah chuckled. “Couldn’t wait to get home?”

  “Seems so.” Cash started walking toward his horse, Noah keeping pace. “Hunter’s favoring his right foreleg.”

  “Let me take a look.” Noah skimmed his hand down the horse’s flank, then picked up the leg. “Nothing in the shoe. He may have a sprain, but I doubt it’s serious. Why don’t you leave him with me a few days so I can keep watch over him?”

  “I don’t know why you don’t hire someone to run the livery for you. You’ve got other projects and plenty of money—”

  “It’s not my money, Cash, and you know it. I have a little savings and a couple good businesses, but Abby’s the wealthy one.” Noah’s jaw pulsed in frustration at the one characteristic of his marriage he’d never been able to fully reconcile. Muttering a curse, he led Hunter into the livery.

  Cash didn’t say any more on the subject as he removed the saddle and bridle. “I’ve got to make the rounds, then I’ll be getting supper at Suzanne’s. Why don’t you join me?”

  Noah let out a deep breath, letting the last of his irritation go. “I’d like to, but Abby’s got supper waiting for me at home. Why don’t you come out to our place instead? I know she’d like to see you.”

  Cash thought of Abby and the home Noah built her on the hill above Splendor. It was beautiful, yet nowhere near as large as the one she’d left behind.

  Abby sold her ranch and house to the Pelletiers before marrying Noah. Her late father, King Tolbert, built the house years before, showcasing his position as a prominent citizen of Splendor. Luke and Ginny Pelletier lived there now, rolling the property into the original Redemption’s Edge ranch where Dax and Rachel lived, making the Pelletier spread the largest in western Montana.