Undercover Sheriff

by Barbara Phinney

  “She died only two days after you were attacked. You were still recuperating.”

  “I should have been stronger.”

  Zane dumped the split wood down, his expression fierce. “That guilt will eat at you, Rachel. I’ve told you that before. Why can’t you believe me?”

  “Why can’t you believe me when I say that I didn’t orchestrate the assault on me?” She paused before her voice turned soft. “It’s hard to trust, especially when you’ve been hurt. But if you won’t trust me, try trusting God.”

  Zane glanced away. “It’s just my own suspicious nature that’s saying that you might have had a hand in your own assault. There aren’t too many people like you in this world.”

  “For which I’m sure you’re grateful.”

  Despite everything, he chuckled at her sarcasm. After a heavy pause, as his smile fell away, he added, “Trust doesn’t come easy to me. I left my job in disgrace all because I had trusted those people I worked with, the ones who betrayed me.”

  “Why didn’t you stay and fight?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe I’m not a gambler. Maybe I couldn’t. It didn’t matter. That same day, Deputy Wilson’s telegram arrived and I took it as a sign that it was time to move on. It was all that corruption that made me unable to accept that someone can actually care.”

  “You would have come here anyway, as soon as you learned Alex was missing.” She cocked her head. “Do you feel guilty he is missing, possibly...in danger?”

  “Or do you mean dead? You may as well say it.” Zane’s mouth took on a grim edge. “Yes. Alex has always protected me. Or at least tried.” He paused. “Once, when we were about fourteen, I got into some mischief that I am thoroughly ashamed of, and Alex took the blame for it. He said he was the one who did it.”

  “That was very noble. He must really love you.”

  Zane rolled his eyes. “As noble as it might be, it wasn’t smart. When our parents learned what had happened, we were both disciplined.”

  “Why?”

  “Our mother wasn’t so easily fooled. Yes, we’d even changed clothing to complete the ruse, but she could always tell us apart and knew as soon as we walked in the door that Alex had lied when he’d taken the blame. In fact, she’d heard about the misdeed an hour before we arrived home. Then I tried to tell her that I had bullied Alex into accepting responsibility, but she saw through that lie, as well.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “The point is that Alex has always looked out for me. That wasn’t the only scrape he’s pulled me from. I owe him. Without him, I would have gone down the wrong path in my life and who knows where I would have ended up.”

  “So why are you insisting that I’m wrong to feel guilty when you’re letting it rule your life?”

  “Because those you feel guilty about don’t care. Alex cares for me.”

  She folded her arms. “A flimsy excuse.”

  “Like yours is for coming here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He tipped his head and walked closer to her. She refused to back away and thus show him how much he intimidated her. She could see beads of sweat on his brow, unexpected considering the chilly and dry air. He really had been working hard here. “I thought that you wanted to keep your distance from any lawman so that those soiled doves could finally learn to trust you.”

  Oh, that.

  “You’ve come up with a cheap excuse to see me. Last night at White Horse Bluff was another cheap excuse.”

  Her cheeks hot, Rachel arched her brows. “Aren’t you full of yourself? I went out to the bluff to pay the ransom in the hope that I could end this nightmare. I came here today to tell you not to give up.”

  To prove her point, she dared to take a step toward him. He didn’t move. The air stilled around them, and even the hens in the far corner, those scratching at the dry end to the season’s kitchen garden, eased off on their soft clucking. She and Zane stared each other down.

  “Do you want me to stay in town after we get Alex back, Rachel?”

  Her heart pounded in her throat. Did she? Her ministry would prove to be all the harder then. He wasn’t like Alex, who understood and kept his distance. Zane seemed to be everywhere she was, stirring up defensive emotions with every encounter.

  No, Zane could not be a part of her life.

  And with his ideas about corruption, especially among the wealthy, he made it doubly difficult. Did Zane see that same thing in her? Tears filled her eyes.

  “Well, Rachel?” Zane asked, his voice still low as he interrupted her thoughts. “You just keep staring at me. Can I assume you want me to stay?”

  She snapped out of her reverie and pulled in a sharp breath. She wasn’t going to waste her own strength fighting Zane. Like him, she only had enough to find Alex and return to her ministry.

  “I merely wanted you to know,” she answered tightly, “that if something is worth having, you should fight for it. And a person’s honor is always worth fighting for.”

  * * *

  “Not my honor,” Zane gritted out, hearing the bite in his words.

  “You’re arrogant.”

  Zane stepped back, smarting from her words for some odd reason. “Once Alex is back, I’m gone.”

  Then, maybe to soothe the sting, he took another step toward her. He didn’t want to end the conversation with harsh words between them. On the Lord’s day, of all days, he just wanted a rest from the distrust and tension. An insane thought popped into his head. It would be nice to court her for one evening. To be normal for one day, and able to reflect on that memory as he wandered the West for the remainder of his life. “Perhaps before I leave, you would allow me the honor of an evening with you? Maybe it would give me the honor you think I need.”

  “Do you think honor comes from courting?”

  “No. It comes from doing something on principle alone.” He shrugged and stepped back. “But you’re right. It isn’t deferrable. I beg your pardon, Rachel. It was rude of me to proposition you.”

  Rachel’s cheeks flooded with color and he noticed again how she pulled herself together. Those hands, still chapped and rough, smoothed down her skirt before lying neatly folded in front. Her shoulders back, her posture stiff, she looked like she was posing for a fine portrait, motionless for the few minutes needed to secure a good exposure.

  “Perhaps I’m like you in that there is not enough fight in me except to find Alex and continue my ministry. My concern is how they spend their evenings—and, indeed, the rest of their time—not how I spend mine.”

  Zane frowned. “What do you mean? How do they spend their time outside of their evenings?”

  “Secluded away as if they carry the plague,” Rachel said, her distaste at the idea clear. “The sheriff before Alex kept those women outside of the town, allowing them to shop for necessities only during specific hours. He often had them arrested for vagrancy and petty theft regardless of whether or not they were guilty. The sheriff before him was the exact opposite. He wanted his share of the profits, so you can see why they are mistrustful of authority.”

  “And Alex? How does he see them?”

  “With civility.”

  “Then we need to continue to show them their new sheriff can be trusted.” He paused. “I have an idea.”

  Her eyes narrowed slightly.

  “I have to escort you to the bank in the morning. And since I have read over the files yet again and interviewed Mrs. Turcot, the only other lead I have to follow is the ransom note. The postcard it was written on is the same type as the one Alex used to write your name. Alex got that one at the saloon. Would you like to come with me as I interview the bartender? I plan to do that after we visit the bank.”

  “How will that instill trust with anyone?”

  “I’ll be searching for Rosa.
She’s still a missing person, and if I show that I’m looking for her and concerned for her safety, it may go a long way to helping repair the soiled doves’ trust in the law.”

  “How will they know what you’ve said to the bartender?”

  Zane folded his arms. “What I say and do will get around.”

  Pleased she was actually considering his request, Zane returned to the pile of firewood. He needed to keep his hands busy. A few minutes ago, he’d touched Rachel’s chin and had been sorely tempted to take the liberty of brushing his fingers against her cheek. Or even stealing a kiss.

  It wouldn’t do either of them any good. She was devoted to her ministry and convinced any relationship with a lawman was detrimental to it. She’d shown no signs of interest in his suggestion of courting.

  Rachel nodded slowly. “Fine, I’ll go with you. Perhaps an extra set of ears and eyes may help. I’ll be at your office at ten tomorrow morning.”

  He nodded, busying himself with the wood. There was a long pause before he heard her leave.

  The yard became too quiet and empty afterward.

  Chapter Seventeen

  With daylight beaming into the sheriff’s office, Zane pulled out his pocket watch. It was exactly 8:30 a.m. He had one-and-a-half hours before Rachel would arrive to collect her money and allow him to escort her to the bank. Plenty of time to complete one important errand.

  A few minutes later, he opened the door to the Recording Office. Three people looked up from their work as he entered. The young clerk in front who was busy helping an older couple was obviously the man from Castle Rock, for the other clerk in the far back was a young, attractive woman, Miss Walsh, most likely. Still farther back, in his own glassed-in office, was the Recording Officer, Noah Livingstone.

  The woman came forward. “May I help you?”

  “I need some information on the printer down in Castle Rock.”

  “What exactly do you need?”

  As Zane answered her, the Recording Officer walked up beside her. Miss Walsh shot Mr. Livingstone a fast look with shining eyes. Zane felt his brows furrow. Was there a romance between them? Although Livingstone was nothing other than professional as he told Zane the name of the business, allowing Miss Walsh to retrieve one of the rolled maps, it was obvious the young woman admired him.

  Just as Zane was concluding that the affection wasn’t reciprocated, he caught the one single, furtive look Livingstone offered Miss Walsh as she unrolled a map.

  A pair of juvenile screams drew everyone’s attention to the window. Zane could see a pair of young boys race past. He’d seen them when he was walking over, no doubt playing before needing to go to school. Whoever their family was, they had their hands full.

  When he turned back to the maps, he caught Livingstone’s scowl and Miss Walsh’s reddening face.

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered to Zane.

  “It’s all right,” he replied. “It’s hardly your fault. They’re just boys. I wonder—”

  Barely in time, he cut off his words, realizing that Alex might know the children. Miss Walsh frowned at him. He clamped shut his mouth.

  “What do you wonder?” she asked.

  Zane cleared his throat. “It’s nothing.”

  “You’re probably wondering why they aren’t heading over to school. They’ll wait until the last minute when Miss Thompson rings the bell.” Miss Walsh smiled ruefully. “They are a handful for my mother, especially since I work, and she’s been unwell. My father has been in Denver on business all week, which doesn’t help.”

  She tossed a fast look up at the clock. “They’ll be heading to school shortly.”

  When she resumed her directions, Zane drew in a relieved breath. He had to be more careful. It was bad enough that some astute people could tell he wasn’t Alex, but to ask a question that his twin could already know the answer to was foolish and dangerous. The more people who knew he wasn’t Alex, the bigger the risk that they’d complain, which would force the mayor to action. This morning, he had received the long-awaited order to report to the mayor. That meeting would happen later today. No doubt Mayor Wilson would believe the other mayor and send him packing.

  That would make two towns washing their hands of him in one week. That would have to be one for the record book. Armed with the information he needed, and glad to be outside, Zane donned his Stetson and pulled it low to block out the early sunshine. He didn’t have time this morning to travel down to Castle Rock to find the printer, but the first chance he had, he would. The train, the one that had brought him here mere days ago, would be arriving soon. It would carry on to the next stop on the line, Castle Rock. Zane noted the time.

  His deputy had reported that Alex had been heading down to Castle Rock when he’d disappeared. What for? Rachel had wanted to follow the lead the postcard offered and Zane actually believed she could. Did that mean he fully believed in her innocence? And that her leads might come to fruition?

  He clamped down on his jaw as he returned to the sheriff’s office, refusing to answer it. It could lead him to wanting to stick around after Alex was found.

  * * *

  At exactly ten, Rachel opened the sheriff’s office door and stepped inside. She’d expected Zane to be there and wasn’t disappointed.

  In fact, as she’d spied him through the window, her heart had taken an uncharacteristic leap.

  Once inside, she noted that he was dressed respectably, in a dark but handsome suit, the badge of office clipped on his breast pocket. She’d seen Alex wear the same suit and realized that Zane was wisely wearing his brother’s clothes. It appeared that perhaps Zane was a little broader in the shoulders, for the suit fit more snugly.

  He glanced up when she shut the door. Was that a genuine smile on his face or merely a screen to hide something else? Whatever it was, it didn’t quite reach his wary eyes. She smoothed her basic dark green outfit, oddly thankful that she’d taken pains with her appearance.

  And last night she had used rose-scented cream borrowed from her mother to help heal her hands. For the briefest moment, Rachel shut her eyes. What on earth was it about this man that made her so insecure?

  Forcing away doubt, she smiled, far more broadly than his wary expression merited. “Good morning.”

  Zane nodded as he stood. “Good morning. Are you ready to go sleuthing?”

  “The bank first, please. I don’t care to be toting money around while investigating a felony.”

  “A wise decision.” He walked to the safe and removed the carpetbag. “You don’t mind if I carry it?”

  “Of course not.”

  He locked up the office and after a few minutes of silent walking, they reached the bank. The beefy security guard, reputed to have been a Pinkerton detective at one time, opened the door for them and greeted Rachel politely. Her father had hired him years ago, and he was as much an institution as the elderly teller, Mr. Claymore.

  Claymore carefully counted the money Zane set on his counter, and took Rachel’s bankbook to update it. Rachel knew him to be professional in every way, but she could tell the man was relieved to have the money returned. Saturday evening, when she’d withdrawn it, the manager had stopped by Claymore’s home and roused the man from his comfortable parlor chair to assist him.

  If truth be told, she, too, was glad the money was back where it was safest. As Claymore took the bills to the safe, Zane gently extricated Rachel’s bankbook from her hands.

  She allowed him. They were the only clientele in the bank at the time, so all was quiet.

  “Satisfied?” Rachel asked with arched brows.

  “Quite. I was waiting to see how the money would be handled.” He handed back the small book.

  “And you can see it was from my own funds.”

  “I should have held off on that assumption until I
had it verified.” After they’d stepped outside, he added, “And I was rude to simply take your private bankbook from your possession without asking permission first. Please accept my apologies.”

  Rachel laid a hand over her heart. “As I live and breathe, I didn’t think I’d hear that from you.”

  He donned his Stetson, leaning closer to her. “Just as I didn’t think I would see the interior of your bankbook.”

  “I would have shown it to you willingly if you’d insisted.” She smiled wanly. “Don’t look so surprised. I actually understand your mistrust in me.”

  She couldn’t believe she’d said that. Yes, she did understand him. She also understood that he had only enough fight in him to find Alex.

  An ache rolled through her, and she resisted the urge to reach out to grip his arm, to give him some of her own determination. To share in the anguish he must feel.

  Zane stepped away. “Don’t, Rachel.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t sympathize with me. I don’t want it and I don’t deserve it.”

  “Why not?”

  He scowled. “Because I’m not as strong as Alex. Nor can I do anything to redeem myself.”

  “You think you need to pay for past sins but also think the cost is too high.”

  The look he shot Rachel cut her to the core. Wary, watchful, haunted almost, it was like nothing she’d seen on him before. “Don’t tell me God has already forgiven me. I know that, but there are some things He can’t fix, because they are the consequences of my sins.”

  “Zane—”

  “And don’t go thinking I’m worthy of saving like your soiled doves, either.”

  She could feel her heart pound. Her emotions concerning this man had bumped up and down like one of those bucking bulls she’d seen when the town had hosted a rodeo. Did she think she could barrel into his life and make it all better? Was that the only reason she found herself thinking so much of Zane?

  She’d wanted to make things better for the soiled doves, but she hadn’t been able to. And when she’d pushed to have Alex find Rosa, he’d disappeared, as well. Tears stung her eyes. No. Zane was right to push her away. “I’m sorry.”