When Reverend Paige finished, the music started again. Filing out of the church, people spoke in low whispers, the mood somber as they prepared for the short trip to the cemetery. At least the rain had stopped. A small consolation on a sad occasion.
Isabella glanced up at him. “Tie Banjo to the back of Gabe’s buggy and ride with us.”
Travis did as she asked, sitting next to her as Gabe drove them to the cemetery. Most ranchers and farmers had small plots for family on their property, while the cemetery mainly held those with little or no land. Most of those living in town would end up in the beautiful grassland tended by church women.
Gabe glanced over his shoulder at Travis as he pulled the buggy to a stop. “Beau and Cash found the remains of a camp a few miles from town.”
“How old?”
“They’re guessing a day at most. From the looks of it, there must’ve been six to eight riders.” Setting the brake, Gabe jumped to the ground then helped Lena down.
Travis did the same for Isabella, catching her hand when he set her on the soaked ground. Looking behind them, he saw Noah, a coffin in the back of his wagon.
He wanted to ask Gabe more questions about what Cash and Beau found, but kept silent. There’d be time after they laid Albert to rest.
Leaving Isabella with Lena and Jack, Travis helped Gabe, Noah, and a few others with the coffin. Lowering it into the already prepared grave, the men stepped away.
The graveside service took little time. A few children tossed flowers on top of the coffin before Reverend Paige led them in a final prayer. When everyone began to disperse, Isabella stepped forward, staring down, swiping a tear from her cheek.
“I’m sorry about what happened to Albert. He seemed like a good man.”
She glanced at Travis, giving him a slow nod. “He was.” She reached out, threading her fingers through his. “You said something earlier about him meaning something to me.”
He shook his head. “We’d best get back to the wagon. I don’t want to hold Gabe up.”
Shaking her head, Isabella refused to budge. “Not yet. Tell me what you meant.”
Looking away, he let out a slow breath before turning back. “I saw the two of you one night.”
“You did?”
Travis nodded. “The boys and I were in town for supper and decided to go to Ruby’s. You and Albert were at a table near the stage. The way you looked at each other, I thought, well…it appeared you had feelings for each other.”
Tightening her grip on his hand, she shook her head. “Albert and I went to supper once. He offered to escort me to Ruby’s, and I accepted.”
“You must’ve cared about him or you wouldn’t have accepted.”
Dropping her hand from his, she crossed her arms. “I liked him, Travis. Beyond that, what I felt or didn’t feel for Albert isn’t your concern. You made it clear you had no interest in being more than a friend.”
“I never said that, Isabella,” he ground out, his jaw hardening.
Glaring at him, she took a step closer. “You didn’t have to. It was obvious by the way you avoided me, then made some ridiculous excuse for not riding out to Luke’s to visit.” Looking behind him, she saw Gabe, Lena, and Jack waiting in the buggy. “We need to go.” She began to move past him, stopping when he grabbed her arm.
“Not yet.”
Tugging her arm free, Isabella glared up at him. “Albert asked me to supper and I went. Baron Klaussner asked me to supper and I went with him, too.” She placed fisted hands on her hips. “Does it surprise you that other men would ask me out?”
Clenching his hands at his sides, he stared at her. “Yes. I mean, no. Ah, hell...” Travis scrubbed a hand down his face, taking a few steps away. He’d never meant to argue with her. Worse, he didn’t understand why he felt so angry. He already knew about Albert and Ernst. Closing his eyes, he sucked in a deep breath, stilling when he felt Isabella’s hand on his shoulder.
“Why does who took me to supper bother you, Travis? We’re friends. Aren’t we?”
He shook his head, turning to look at her. “We’re much more than friends, Isabella.”
“Are you two all right?” Gabe stood a few yards away, concern etched in his features.
Travis nodded. “We’re fine, Gabe.” He looked at Isabella. “We’d better get going.” Holding out his arm, he waited until she slipped hers through it.
Following Gabe to the buggy, Travis thought about what he’d admitted, wondering if Isabella felt the same confusion as him. By the look on her face, she did.
Noah and Travis stood at the back of the wagon, sorting ammunition and guns, giving each other furtive looks.
“Tell me again how we got into this.”
Noah raised a brow. “As I recall, you offered to teach Isabella how to shoot.”
Travis snorted, glancing over his shoulder. “Isabella, not a passel of females.”
Chuckling, Noah shook his head. “Too late to back out now, my friend.”
Ten women stood several yards away, excitement obvious by their animated discussions and the way they kept casting quick glances at the men.
Four days after the funeral, Travis still hadn’t spoken to Isabella about what he’d said before leaving the cemetery. Albert’s death had caused his work at the ranch to stall, forcing him and Wyatt to work long days in order to fulfill the existing contract. Wyatt didn’t ride home to Nora until late Friday night. Travis was able to get a message to Isabella through Luke, letting her know he still planned to work with the women on Saturday. When she arrived, they’d said a brief hello before she joined the other women, leaving him to work with Noah.
“Are you ready?” Noah picked up a six-shooter and box of ammunition.
Travis nodded. “What do you suggest?”
“You take five and I’ll take five.”
“I’m guessing you want Abby in your group.”
Noah looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Hell no. I don’t want her angry with me tonight. To start, you take my wife and I’ll take Isabella. After an hour, we’ll change groups.”
“I sure hope I’m as good at this as you.”
Noah snickered, his eyes dancing with mischief as they walked toward the ladies. “You’re a Johnny Reb, my friend. You’ll never be as good as me.”
Travis waited for the sting of remorse to slice through him, surprised when he felt his mouth turn up into a grin. “We’ll see about that, Billy Yank.”
“Good morning, ladies.” Noah looked over the group, his gaze landing on Abby. “We understand you’re here because you want to learn to handle a gun and use it for protection.” Several nodded, a couple answering in the affirmative. “Good. You know what happened last Sunday. Those outlaws caught us unprepared. They aren’t going to do that again.”
Travis stepped forward. “Noah and I are going to split you into two groups. After an hour, we’ll switch so each of you has a chance to work with both of us. Are any of you proficient with a six-shooter?”
Lena and Abby held up their hands.
“Two of you. Do any of you have experience with a rifle or shotgun?”
Deborah Chestro and Sylvia Lucero, two of the mail order brides, raised their hands, along with Lena and Abby.
“Allie Coulter, I know you can shoot a shotgun.” Noah smiled at her.
“I can, but nothing like Lena and Abby.”
Noah nodded, looking at Travis. “We’ll start with six-shooters. If there’s time, we’ll work with rifles and shotguns. Noah will start with you five.” Travis pointed to five of the women, including Isabella. “The rest of you will come with me.”
They’d picked a large clearing not far from town. Several yards into the center, Noah and Travis had set up two rows of targets, one for each group. Additional targets lay a few feet away.
Travis looked over his shoulder to see five solemn-faced women following him in a single line—Abby, Deborah, May, Lena, and Sarah Murton, the town school teacher. Two who already knew how
to use a gun and three who didn’t.
This shouldn’t be too hard, Travis thought.
An hour later, Travis scratched his head. Abby and Lena did well, stepping aside after a few minutes to allow him more time with Deborah, May, and Sarah. Deborah did better than he expected, hitting several targets after missing the first five shots. May didn’t do quite as well. It took her sixteen tries to nick one target.
“Did you see that, Mr. Dixon?” she squealed. “I hit it.” Turning toward him, she jumped up and down, dropping the gun, screaming at the accidental discharge.
“For the love of…” Travis leaned down, picking up the six-shooter. “Is everyone all right?” When everyone nodded, he turned back to May. “Miss Bacon, you did real good hitting the target. From now on, never lose control of your gun. No matter how excited you become, you can’t allow yourself to forget this is a dangerous weapon.” Ignoring the tears forming in her eyes, he continued. “Someone could’ve gotten seriously hurt. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Biting her lower lip, she nodded. “Yes, Mr. Dixon. I’ll be real careful from now on.”
“Good.” He offered her the gun. “Now, try again.”
She’d fired three more times, hitting the target on the last shot. This time, she stayed calm, her grip remaining firm.
Travis began to feel a little smug at the ladies’ progress. Then Sarah stepped forward.
He could see her tremble from several feet away. “Are you all right, Miss Murton?”
Nodding, she stared at the gun in his hand. “I’ll be fine, Mr. Dixon.” She lifted her hand to take the gun he held out. Travis couldn’t miss the way it shook.
“You don’t have to do this, Miss Murton. If you aren’t comfortable—”
“No, Mr. Dixon. I want to do this. I will do this.” She squared her shoulders, determination etched on her face. “I’ll not let my students down by not being able to protect them. Now, show me what to do.”
“As long as you’re sure.”
She gave him a curt nod. “I am.”
A rocky start became a lesson in persistence. Soft-spoken, somewhat timid, Miss Murton found her courage, listening to everything Travis told her. After six misses, she hit three targets in a row. Instead of showing the elation May had, Sarah let out a relieved breath, lifting her chin.
“I’ll need more practice, but I do think I’m getting the idea.”
Chuckling, Travis nodded, taking the gun she held out to him. “You’re right on both, Miss Murton.”
The women took one more turn before Travis and Noah changed groups. Before Travis had a chance to talk with Isabella, Tabitha hurried up to him, slipping an arm through his.
“I’m so glad you offered to teach us, Mr. Dixon.”
He glanced behind her at Isabella, wincing at the amused look on her face. “It was Isabella’s idea to include all of you, Miss Beekman, not mine.”
“Really? She’s such a quiet woman. I never would’ve thought of Mrs. Boucher as someone with such a progressive attitude about women.” She slowly turned them around, walking to where Travis’s group would be shooting.
His brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”
“Well, the men back home want to keep women safe in the home, ignoring the fact danger can happen anywhere. People in Splendor are so much more open to women learning skills besides cooking, sewing, and gardening. Did your wife know how to shoot, Mr. Dixon?”
Coming to an abrupt halt, a muscle in his jaw ticked as he dropped his arm to his side. “How do you know about my wife?”
Tabitha blanched. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to anger you.”
“What do you know about my wife, Miss Beekman?”
She glanced around, clearing her throat. “Only that she and your daughter died during the war, nothing more. I’m so sorry for saying anything, Mr. Dixon. I sometimes speak before thinking. Please, forgive me.”
Shaking off the bleak image of crosses marking two graves in Tennessee, Travis looked at her. “It’s all right, Miss Beekman. To answer your question, yes, my wife was a very good shot. Her father taught her, the same as my father taught me.”
“Are you two all right?” Isabella stepped next to them, placing a hand on Travis’s arm.
Lifting her chin, Tabitha met Isabella’s gaze. “We’re fine, Mrs. Boucher.”
Without thought, Travis placed an arm around Isabella’s shoulders, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Are you ready for your next lesson, sweetheart?”
Neither heard Tabitha’s quiet gasp or noticed the stunned look on her face, their attention riveted on each other.
“I am. Noah is such a wonderful teacher.”
“Hmm. Sounds like a challenge.”
She patted his arm, her lips tilting up into an impish grin. “I find everything is a challenge with you, Mr. Dixon.”
Chapter Ten
David stepped from the stagecoach, setting the satchel on the boardwalk before swiping layers of dust from his clothes. The dirt flew off in large plumes, causing him to cough. Removing a handkerchief from an inside pocket, he wiped his hands as he looked around.
The trip through Montana was brutal. None of the five passengers had been prepared for the deep ruts bouncing the stage around as if it weighed nothing. More than once, they’d tumbled into each other or knocked their heads on the roof of the coach. Bruised and battered didn’t begin to describe how David’s body felt as he bent to grab his bag, then looked at the stagecoach driver.
“Do you have a recommendation where I might find accommodations?”
“The St. James Hotel is down the street. It’s the finest hotel in all of Montana. The boardinghouse is right there.” He pointed across the crowded street. “It’s run by a woman named Suzanne Barnett. Clean rooms, assuming she has one available, and her restaurant is open to anyone.”
“Would you happen to know Mrs. Isabella Boucher?”
The driver scratched his stubbled chin, then shook his head. “Can’t say as I do. Mrs. Barnett or the sheriff would know. The jail is just up the street.”
“Thank you.” David crossed the street toward the boardinghouse. He’d eat a meal and discover if anyone knew Isabella.
Before reaching the front door, he saw a large group enter town. A few women sat in a wagon while others flanked them on horseback. Laughter filled the air as they rode past to stop in front of the livery.
David took a few steps forward, stopping at the edge of the boardwalk. Keeping his bag tucked against his chest, he watched a tall, slender man dismount, then help a woman with dark brown hair slide down from her horse. He placed a kiss on her cheek, then turned to speak to the other man in the group. At the same time, the woman shifted, glancing in David’s direction.
His pulse quickened. He’d traveled over two thousand miles to find the woman he sought. The woman he planned to marry. Raising his hand, he stepped onto the street.
“Isabella!” David waved as he hurried toward her. Seeing her gaze lock on his, he waved again. “Isabella!”
A bright smile lit her face. “David!” She took a few steps forward, unaware of Travis watching from a few feet away.
Stopping in front of her, David set the satchel on the ground, wrapping her in a hug, which appeared decidedly familiar to Travis. Crossing his arms, he watched as she kissed David’s cheek, her hands gripping the man’s arms.
“What a wonderful surprise. What are you doing here?” Dropping her arms, she stepped away.
“I’m here for you, Isabella.”
Her brows furrowed. “For me?”
He nodded, bending to pick up his bag. “As I promised Arnott before he died.”
She shook her head, clasping her hands together. “What promise, David?”
Giving her an indulgent look, he reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I thought he told you. Arnott made me promise to take care of you after his death.” He inched closer. “He insisted on it, Isabella.”
“What?”
Travis
watched her face flush, hands clenched at her sides. He stepped closer, taking her elbow. “I’d suggest we go to the Eagle’s Nest so your friend here can explain what he means.”
“I don’t know who you are, but this is a private conversation between Isabella and me.”
Travis lifted a brow, his lips twisting into a sardonic grin. “You may join us or not, Mr…”
David glanced at Isabella, noticing her lean into the man’s side. “Peeler. David Peeler.”
Travis held out his hand. “Travis Dixon.”
A moment passed as David stared at the outstretched hand. Making a decision, he grasped it, then pulled his hand away, looking at Isabella.
“I’d prefer to speak with you alone.”
“Whatever you have to say can be said in front of Travis. He’s a good friend.”
“A very good friend, Mr. Peeler,” Travis added.
David couldn’t hide his shocked expression as he looked between the two. “You don’t mean…” His voice trailed off, his face paling.
“Travis and I are quite close, David, and he’s right. We should get a table at the Eagle’s Nest, where we may speak with more privacy.” She slipped her arm through Travis’s. “Are we agreed?”
David glared at Travis before giving Isabella a terse nod. “Fine. I shall follow you.”
Isabella stared across the table at David, back rigid as she tapped the cup of tea with her fingers. “I want to know exactly what Arnott said to you.”
David’s hand shook as he picked up his coffee and took a sip. Setting it down, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, blotting his forehead. Clearing his throat, he opened his mouth to speak, letting out a relieved breath when the waiter appeared.
“Are you ready to order, Mrs. Boucher?”
She gave the older man a warm smile. “I am, Oscar. I’d like the soup and corned beef.”
“Excellent choice, Mrs. Boucher. Mr. Dixon?”
“The corned beef and cooked cabbage, Oscar.”
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