“Hell, there’s no call for that, Sheriff.” An older miner, tall and rail thin with a shaggy, graying beard, stepped forward. “She don’t need to know about any of this. We’ll get the supplies and head out. We won’t cause no more trouble.”
“Just get the supplies and go. And I don’t want to hear you’ve created any problems for John.” Gabe glanced at Cash and Beau. “You two stay here and make sure they do as this man says.” He didn’t add that he’d be talking with Lena.
“You go ahead and take care of business, Gabe. Beau and I have this.” Cash turned to the miners. “You heard the sheriff. Get moving.” Shifting his gaze, he scanned the area for Alison, wondering where’d she’d gone. It didn’t matter. He’d already made up his mind what he needed to do. As soon as the miners rode out, he’d get to work on it.
“I need to send a telegram, Bernie.”
“Sure, Cash.” The clerk slid a piece of paper across the counter, then handed Cash a pencil. “Write it all down and I’ll get it out right away.”
A couple minutes passed while he composed his message, then handed the paper to Bernie. He pushed his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose and read it a couple times, his brows furrowing. Glancing up, he started to speak, but Cash stopped him.
“Not a word of this to anyone, Bernie. Not even Gabe. This is between you, me, and the man at the other end of the telegraph line. Understand?”
Bernie looked offended as he set the paper down and crossed his arms. “I’d never say a word and you darn well know it. I’m just a little surprised, that’s all. Thought you two had a spark going.”
Cash’s jaw tightened. “Well, you’re wrong.” Shoving a hand in his pocket, he pulled out some cash. “Get to me right away when you hear back.” Stalking outside, he drew in a deep breath, making his way back to the sheriff’s office. He’d put off dealing with his questions long enough, and the warnings in his gut continued to get stronger. The answer would come back confirming what she’d told him or it wouldn’t. Either way, he’d deal with it.
Alison’s frustration had risen several levels after three days without learning anything about the day her brother was shot. She’d asked subtle questions of Bernie Griggs, Stan Petermann, and Silas Jenks. All longtime residents. They’d all told her the same. The robbers were gunned down as they tried to get away, using innocent people as shields. Several townspeople, as well as the sheriff and his men, were involved, but no one saw who fired the shots killing each outlaw.
By the way each man had avoided looking her in the eyes, she knew they were either protecting her from the gruesome details or hiding a killer. The idea of Bobby getting involved with a band of outlaws simply couldn’t have happened.
He’d always been quiet and gentle, with a sweet nature. Picking up a rifle and joining the Confederate States of America had been an act prompted by anger and loss. The war had lasted a few short months after he enlisted, not nearly enough time to turn a kind young man, with a love of animals and children, into a ruthless outlaw. Alison couldn’t accept it, knowing there had to be more to what happened.
“Good evening, Mrs. Burns.” Clay McCord removed his hat as he walked into her shop, looking around at the fabric, dresses, and hats displayed throughout.
“Mr. McCord.” Her voice caught as she took in the sight of the lean, muscled clerk from the general store. Close to six feet tall with thick, light brown hair, olive skin, and gray eyes rimmed in a deep brown, he seemed more suited for working outside with his hands, possibly giving orders, than standing behind a counter selling flour and sugar. They’d spoken a few times, leaving her with the impression there was much more to the man than he wanted anyone to know. “I was about to close up. What may I do for you?”
“I know this may come across as being presumptuous, but I wondered if you would have supper with me tonight.”
The request caught her by surprise, washing the easy smile from her face. She knew rumors were circulating about her and Cash, and as much as she’d hoped they were true, he hadn’t tried to talk to her for almost a week. She’d walked by the sheriff’s office a few times and once by the house he shared with Beau, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Although embarrassed, she’d left a message with Gabe, asking Cash to stop by when he had time. He never appeared.
Each night, she’d drawn up the covers, then stared at the ceiling, wondering what she’d said or done to keep him away, deciding he’d simply lost interest. Given her quest to find out the truth about Bobby, becoming close to Cash wouldn’t be smart. Still, she missed him more than she cared to admit.
“What a lovely offer, Mr. McCord. Of course I’ll have supper with you. It will take me a few minutes to finish and lock up. Would you like me to meet you?”
“No, ma’am. I’ll wait if that’s all right.” He fingered the brim of his hat, shifting his feet.
“Of course. I’ll just be a minute.”
Putting away the hat she’d been creating, she grabbed her shawl, then turned off the lamps before joining him near the door. Locking up, she walked alongside him to the restaurant she’d visited with Cash. Betts sent them a broad smile, nodding toward a table near the front as she finished taking orders from a couple in an alcove close to the kitchen.
As Alison took her seat, she glanced toward the couple and smiled, raising her hand when she recognized Caroline and Beau. Both returned her greeting before resuming what appeared to be an intense conversation, Beau’s voice rising before Caro placed a hand on his arm.
“Doesn’t look good.”
Alison’s attention moved to Clay, who still watched the now animated conversation across the room. “What doesn’t look good?”
“Beau and Mrs. Iverson.”
“It’s probably nothing more than friends disagreeing.” Alison had heard the rumors of the two being more than friends, but she’d never seen them together until today.
“I heard she’s decided to continue on to San Francisco as soon as the snow clears between Montana and Idaho. I’m guessing she’ll be here no more than another month, six weeks at the most.” Seeing Betts approach, he glanced up at a board hanging on the wall where the menu had been listed.
“That’s a shame. I’m sure Mr. Davis won’t be happy with her decision.”
Alison knew Caroline Iverson had made the decision to travel west after the death of her husband. She’d run into her childhood friend, Gabe Evans, in Big Pine, making the decision to winter in Splendor before resuming her trip to San Francisco. Alison was certain neither Caro nor Beau had ever expected to form an attachment.
“What would you like, Mrs. Burns?” Betts asked, smiling.
Alison hastily read the menu, deciding on the chicken.
“And you, Mr. McCord?”
“I believe I’ll have the stew tonight. And coffee.”
“I’ll get coffee for both of you and bring your food right out.”
As Betts hurried away, Alison heard the bell on the front door chime, sucking in a breath as Cash entered, walking straight toward Beau’s table. He hadn’t noticed her, didn’t even look at the other diners as he stopped at their table. Removing his hat and nodding at Caro, he leaned down to speak with Beau, whose face turned grim at whatever Cash said.
Alison stared, unable to turn her gaze away from him. Dressed all in black, his broad shoulders squared, light stubble on his face, he presented a striking presence, making her chest tighten and mouth go dry. Before she could turn her head, he whipped around, his gaze locking with hers, then moving to Clay, eyes narrowed. In an instant, he’d closed the space between Beau’s table and theirs, staring down at her.
“Good evening, Cash. Would you care to join us?” Clay couldn’t miss the tension between Cash and Alison. He’d already heard the deputy might be courting the young widow, but he’d never seen them together, and he’d been watching. When Clay believed the rumors were untrue, he’d decided to take a chance and invite her to supper. Amusement tilted his mouth up, even as he held his tongu
e. He surely didn’t want to get on the bad side of Cash Coulter.
“Not tonight.” The reply held no warmth as he continued to watch Alison. “How are you, Mrs. Burns?”
Her heart pounding in her chest, she cleared her throat, taken aback at the formality. “I’m wonderful, Mr. Coulter. It’s a beautiful evening, don’t you think?”
Hell no, he thought before ripping his gaze from hers, ignoring her question. “Thanks for the offer, Clay, but I’ve had my supper. You two enjoy yourselves.” Smashing his hat down on his head, he stalked out, letting the door slam behind him.
“What do you think that was about?” Clay sipped his coffee, a slight gleam in his eyes.
Unfolding her napkin, she played with the edges, unsure of what to make of Cash’s response. She’d accepted Clay’s offer after not hearing from or seeing Cash for almost a week, even though the jail stood a hundred feet from her shop. The man had her in knots and it was all his fault. Frustration gripped her. Here she sat with a handsome man, about to enjoy a good meal. Instead of letting herself appreciate the evening, Alison found herself fighting down growing anger.
“I’m sure I don’t know.” She picked up her coffee, taking a healthy swallow as Betts set down their plates. Breathing in the wonderful aroma, she grabbed her fork. “This is such a wonderful treat, Mr. McCord. Thank you for inviting me.”
A smile spread across Clay’s face. “Believe me, Mrs. Burns. It’s my pleasure.”
~~~~~
Chapter Eleven
Cash slammed open the door and stalked into the sheriff’s office, startling Gabe into reaching for his gun, then pulling his hand back.
“Something bothering you?”
Cash shot him an evil glare, tossing his hat on the desk. “You’re supposed to be at the Dixie with your wife. What are you doing here?” He’d hoped to have some time alone to calm down after seeing Alison with Clay. His reaction made no sense. After his decision to send a telegram to a friend in Kentucky, he’d decided to let their friendship cool off until he figured out what bothered him about her. But when he saw her tonight, the reality of how he felt slammed into his stomach like a mule’s kick. Walking to a cabinet, he opened the door, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and a glass. “You want one?”
“No, thanks.” Gabe watched his friend toss back a shot, then pour another, wondering what had happened. “You want to talk about it?”
“Hell no. I’d rather drink it away.”
Gabe chuckled. “Must be about Alison Burns.”
Cash almost choked on his next swallow. “Who says it has to be about anybody?”
“The way you’re acting, it sure better be.” Gabe sat back, interlacing his hands behind his head.
Mumbling a curse, Cash plopped into a nearby chair. “She’s having supper with Clay McCord.”
Gabe thought about the information for a moment, his mouth twisting into a wry grin. “And?”
“And what? She’s letting Clay court her.”
“You remember me giving you a message from her?”
Cash’s lips thinned as he nodded.
“Did you ever go see her like she requested?”
“I’ve been busy.” Cash set down his glass and crossed his arms.
“Yeah. Playing cards at the Dixie or Rose, having supper with Noah and Abby, and taking extra rounds around the town at night. Seems like your plan to avoid her worked.” Gabe stood, grabbing his hat. “Guess I’ll head over to the Dixie, see if I can convince Lena to come home early.” He walked toward the door, turning back toward Cash. “Did you ever hear back from Kentucky?”
Cash’s head snapped up. “What do you know about that?”
Gabe held his hands up. “Wasn’t Bernie’s fault. The new kid he hired mistook me for you. Bernie told him to tell you he hadn’t gotten a reply from Kentucky. Poor boy turned beet red when he realized he’d given the message to me and not you.” Gabe’s face sobered. “You don’t believe her story about being a widow and moving to Montana, do you?”
Cash picked up his glass, rolling it between his fingers, not looking at Gabe. “No.”
He took a couple steps forward, clasping Cash’s shoulder. “Then it’s best you stay away from her until you get the answers you need. Your instincts have saved you more than once.”
“And if what she told me is true?” Cash squeezed the bridge of his nose.
“Then you take her away from Clay.”
“Simple as that?”
“The way she looks at you, Cash? Yes, it could be as simple as that.”
“Thank you for supper, Mr. McCord. I had a wonderful time.” Until Cash arrived, spoiling what had been a pleasant evening, she thought. “Perhaps you’d like to come for supper one night.”
Clay shifted from one foot to the other as he stood outside her shop. He respected Cash, knew his reputation as an honest man, and didn’t want to cause trouble between him and Alison. Still, Alison was a widow, and quite an attractive one.
“I didn’t believe the rumors about you and the deputy were true. After his appearance at supper, I’m beginning to think there’s truth to them after all.”
Her eyes widened at his words. She knew of the rumors, and Cash had been open about wanting to see her. Did that mean he’d been courting her? He’d kissed her more than once, sparking unexpected desire she’d thoroughly enjoyed. After returning from the Pelletier ranch, she’d expected him to visit, invite her to supper or to join him on a walk. Instead, he’d kept his distance, not even stopping in to say good evening.
The worst had been when he’d sent her what could best be described as a menacing glare when he’d spotted her watching the commotion with the miners. She’d hoped he’d seek her out afterwards, explain what caused the incident, assure her all was well. He hadn’t.
Clay watched as her expression changed, as if she were struggling with different answers to a difficult decision. He didn’t need someone to spell it out for him. “It may be best to keep our distance until you know your feelings for Cash.” Clay had no intention of causing her added anxiety or stepping between her and Cash.
“You may be right. It’s just…” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, keeping her eyes focused on the floor.
“Just?” Clay quirked a brow, waiting.
Raising her gaze to his, she studied his face, deciding she could confide in him. “Until seeing me with you at supper, he hadn’t spoken to me in almost a week. I don’t know what he’s thinking, except he’s changed his mind and has lost interest.”
Clay let loose with a robust laugh, his eyes shining. “Believe me, Cash Coulter hasn’t lost interest. If he’s who you want, wait him out. I don’t know him well, but he seems the kind of man who keeps his feelings under tight control, sharing with a few people he trusts.”
She thought of who he seemed to be close to, coming up with Beau, Dax and Luke Pelletier, and possibly Gabe. Charming and smart, he could hold a conversation with anyone. Opening up about how he felt, though? She doubted that came as easily. Then again, she’d kept her reason for living in Splendor to herself, sharing nothing of her true beliefs with anyone. When he discovered why she’d traveled across country, Alison had no doubt he’d push her out of his life.
“Such as Beau?”
“That’s my guess.” Clay set his hat atop his head. “Goodnight, Mrs. Burns. It was a pleasure.”
“Mr. McCord, may I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
She braced herself, hoping he might have some answers. “Do you know who killed the men involved in the bank robbery last year?”
Of all the questions he would’ve guessed she’d ask, this one wasn’t even on his list. He narrowed his gaze, wondering why a robbery months in the past would draw her interest.
“Why would such an unsavory event hold any interest for you?”
Crossing her arms, she worked to control the frustration bubbling inside. Not one person would give her a straight answer, even though she felt ce
rtain they had them.
“I’m curious, nothing more. It’s a simple question, Mr. McCord.”
His lips thinned. “Sorry, but I arrived in town after the robbery, so I don’t have any answers for you. Why don’t you ask the sheriff? From what I’ve heard, he and his men were there, along with several others.” He shot her one last look. “I’d best be leaving.”
“I don’t even know why I’m so curious.” Another lie added to all the others. “It’s not important. Goodnight again, Mr. McCord.”
Tipping his hat, Clay strolled away, chewing on the possibility there was much more to Alison’s question than simple curiosity.
Cash saddled Hunter, ready to get out of town on a long ride, ending at the Pelletier ranch. Noah told him his horse had healed enough to ride, as long as Cash didn’t push him too hard—whatever that was supposed to mean. Horses were always pushed hard, but he’d be careful. He and Hunter had been partners a long time, and he trusted the horse more than most people.
He’d received a short telegram the morning after seeing Alison with Clay. Although there were a number of people named Burns in the area, his contact had found nothing so far about a marriage involving an Alison Burns near Richmond, Kentucky. He needed her maiden name and the first name of the groom. Cash had crumpled up the piece of paper, swearing under his breath, wondering how he’d get those pieces of information.
Then he had a thought. Rachel and Ginny Pelletier had used her services and became friends with Alison. They might have the answers.
“Thanks for letting me use Joker.” Cash swung up on Hunter, looking over at Noah standing a few feet away, holding baby Gabriel in his arms. “Isn’t he a little young for you to be wandering around town with him?”
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