Calling this place a farm would stretch the truth beyond belief.
His gaze returned to the ramshackle house. One horse and one saddle might mean only one of the brothers was at home.
There was a pen at the far corner of the house, close to the corral, and it looked to him like it held several sleeping hounds. The instant they caught wind of the two men and their horses, they would send up an alarm. As if hearing Jared’s thoughts, one of the dogs sat up and began to howl. In almost perfect unison, Jared and the sheriff yanked their weapons from the scabbards on their saddles and dismounted, taking cover in a nearby gully. A moment later, Jared saw the barrel of a rifle appear through the now-open door.
“You’re on private land,” a man called.
“Bill Winters, it’s Sheriff Hinkley. I need to talk to you.”
“What about?”
“About last night.”
There was a moment’s hesitation. “Don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. I’m referring to the young woman you threatened with a knife near the livery stables.”
Silence, then the report of a rifle sounded an instant before a bullet struck the ground a few feet in front of Jared’s position.
Sheriff Hinkley looked over the rim of the gully. “Bill, you don’t want to do this. Be reasonable. Put down your weapon and come on out.”
Another shot was fired, and this time it caught the sheriff in the right shoulder. The man gasped in disbelief as he dropped to the ground with a hard thud. “I should’ve known he’d do that,” he ground out through clenched teeth.
“Stay put,” Jared said. “I’ll take care of him.”
“Keep an eye out for the brother.”
With a nod, Jared began to snake his way north along the gully, rocks and thorns poking him as he went. He feared he’d torn loose a few of Silver’s carefully made stitches. She wouldn’t be happy about that.
Silver was descending the stairs when she heard a man say, “Jared Newman’s room, please.” She stopped to study the stranger at the front desk.
“He ain’t in,” the clerk replied. “Rode out early this mornin’.”
“You’re sure?”
The same question echoed in Silver’s head. She’d knocked on Jared’s door a short while before. No answer. She’d assumed he was asleep. But it seemed he was gone. Ridden off somewhere without her. Again. Leaving her behind. Again.
“I’m sure,” the hotel clerk said. “I saw him and the sheriff ride out of town together.”
The stranger frowned. “Was there a lady with him?”
“No, sir. Just the two men.” The clerk’s gaze moved toward the stairs. “Is she who you mean?” He motioned with his head.
The stranger turned. After a moment, he removed his hat. “Miss Matlock, I presume.”
Silver didn’t like that he knew her name when she didn’t know his. It put her at a disadvantage.
“I’m a . . . an acquaintance of Mr. Newman’s. May we talk privately?” He motioned toward the restaurant across the street. “Perhaps over breakfast.”
She wasn’t sure what to do. He hadn’t given his name, hadn’t said how he knew Jared or knew her name. After last night she was feeling a bit skittish about strangers.
He moved toward the staircase, stopping at the bottom step. In a low voice meant only for her ears, he said, “My name is Doug Gordon. I work for the Pinkerton Detective Agency.”
He didn’t look dangerous or threatening. He wore a black suit over a white shirt. His dark hair was clean, his face pleasant. He had the look of a banker or a lawyer, not a criminal.
“I expected to meet up with Jared this morning. We made the arrangements last night. That’s when he told me you were riding with him.”
Deciding she could trust him at least enough to sit with him in a public restaurant, Silver descended the last of the steps. They left the hotel side by side and crossed the street. Neither of them spoke until they’d been seated at the same table where Silver had eaten her dinner alone the night before.
It was Mr. Gordon who broke the silence. “Did something happen last night? Was there trouble of some sort?”
She shook her head.
Doug raised a quizzical eyebrow. “I think you’d better tell me the truth, Miss Matlock. There must be a reason Jared rode out of town with the sheriff.”
How much should she tell him? He might be Jared’s friend, but he was still a stranger to her.
He sat back in his chair. “Let’s see if I can reassure you. My name, again, is Doug Gordon. I’m a Pinkerton detective, and I’ve had occasion to work with Jared in the past. Mr. Newman is assisting you in finding someone. That’s what he does. Finds people who need to be found. He hails from Kentucky but has not lived there in many years. Not since his family was murdered.”
Murdered? She’d known they were dead. But murdered? Jared had left that detail out.
“You and he are on your way to Virginia City, Nevada, but your available funds do not allow you to travel by train. Which is where I come in. Jared was to meet me to help with a job that could have earned him your train fare. Only he didn’t show up at the appointed time. That isn’t like him.” Doug motioned with his head toward the hotel. “Now it seems he rode out on a different mission without letting either of us know, so something changed between last night and this morning. Care to tell me what it was?”
The last of her reticence dissolved, and she quickly related the events of the previous night.
“How badly was Jared hurt?” Doug asked when she came to the end.
“He should have seen a doctor, but he refused to let me send for one. He asked me to . . . I stitched his wound instead.”
Doug pushed back from the table. “I’d say they were going after a suspect. Only reason Jared would have gone along. And since he’s not in the best fighting shape, I think I’d better see if I can lend a hand. Hopefully the deputy can tell me where they went.”
Silver opened her mouth to say she would accompany him, then closed it without a word. Better to keep her thoughts to herself—after Doug Gordon was gone, she could do as she pleased.
Holding the rifle in front of him, Jared edged up the embankment. He could see the side and back of the house now, but there was a long stretch of barren ground between him and it. Too far for him to sprint across. His instincts told him Bill Winters knew where he was, even though the door was no longer in view. There was enough space between boards in the side of the place for someone to look out, even where there wasn’t a door or window.
He rolled onto his side and glanced down at his shirt. A red stain was spreading across the fabric, the blood warm and sticky against his skin. As suspected, he’d managed to rip open his wound. He lifted the shirt to check it out. Didn’t look too serious.
He returned to his stomach and inched up again, his gaze sweeping the area. There had to be a way for him to force Winters out. If he could just—
The horse in the corral lifted its head, its ears darting forward, its eyes set somewhere behind Jared. His body on full alert, Jared rolled onto his back and whipped the rifle into position. A split second later, a bullet whizzed by his ear. He returned fire.
The man who’d shot at Jared and missed—tall, beefy, undoubtedly the brother—stood no more than fifty feet away from him, a surprised expression on his face. His gun arm lowered, and the Colt dangled from his index finger before dropping to the ground. Then he staggered a step or two to the left before falling face forward into the dirt.
Jared flipped onto his stomach once again. “Give yourself up, Winters. You can either come willingly or go with me feet first.”
A glimpse of Bill Winters’s face appeared at the corner of the shack. “Mike?” he shouted.
“Your brother can’t help you now.”
A string of foul curses punctured the air.
Jared felt a moment of hope. Maybe Winters would recognize the futility and give himself up. But the hope died a second later when the d
ogs—five snarling hounds—shot around the corner of the shack with teeth bared, driven forward by a command from their master. Jared felled three of them in quick succession. Then the last two were upon him. He swung his rifle at the closest, knocking it away with the barrel. Even as he tightened his finger on the trigger, he felt teeth sink into his left forearm. In a reflex motion, he struck the animal on the head with the rifle stock. The dog fell away, stunned.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Bill Winters step into full view, but there was nothing he could do about him now as the last surviving dog lunged for him. Dropping the rifle—useless to him—he grabbed the canine and held him away from his neck. The pair of them, man and dog, rolled to the bottom of the gully.
He was out of luck. If the attack dog didn’t rip his throat open first, Winters would shoot him soon enough. There it was. Gunfire. He waited for the impact of the bullet as it entered his body . . . but it didn’t happen. He rolled with the dog in the opposite direction, feeling the strength draining out of him.
A second shot. Then a third.
A high-pitched yelp.
The dog dropped onto him, a deadweight on his chest.
Heart in her throat, Silver lowered the revolver to her side and ran toward Jared. She was vaguely aware of Doug Gordon kneeling beside the man who’d assaulted her the previous night, but all she cared to know was if Jared was all right.
“Jared?” she called as she drew closer. “Jared?”
There was a grunt, and the large dog’s carcass rolled off of Jared.
She dropped to her knees beside him.
He scowled at her while he gripped his arm, blood seeping through his fingers. “I guess you weren’t lying when you said you could shoot.”
“Of course I wasn’t lying.”
“Did you shoot Winters too?”
She shook her head. “No. Mr. Gordon shot him. He’s dead, I think.” She motioned toward Jared’s arm. “How badly are you hurt?”
“Not bad. But we need to get the sheriff back to town. He took a bullet in the shoulder. I left him up the gully a ways.”
Doug Gordon’s shadow fell across the two of them, and they both looked up.
“You shouldn’t have let her come with you,” Jared said.
“I didn’t let her. She followed me.”
Jared released a tight chuckle. “I should’ve known. Telling her to stay put is a waste of time.”
When he looked at her again, Silver recognized the pain in his hazel eyes, but she saw something else too.
He was glad she was there.
Her heart skittered in response.
CHAPTER 18
The physician closed his black bag and looked at Jared where he lay on the bed in his hotel room. “You get some sleep, young man. You’ll have plenty enough discomfort until those wounds heal. Dog bites can be nasty things, and rest is the best medicine for you now.”
“I will, Doctor. Thank you.”
With a nod in Doug’s direction, the physician left.
Jared drew in a deep breath and let it out, thankful the laudanum had taken the edge off his pain. And thankful that, according to the doctor, the sheriff was going to be fine as well.
“I should go,” Doug said, stepping closer to the bed. “I’ve got a train to catch.”
“You’re leaving Green River? What about your suspect?”
“He wasn’t on his way here after all. I got word they arrested him up in Montana last night. I’m going there now.”
Jared nodded. They wouldn’t be taking the train to Virginia City after all.
“Sorry there’s no reward,” Doug said.
Jared gave a small shrug. “It’s all right. Besides, I’m the one who owes you. If you hadn’t shown up at the Winters’s place when you did . . .”
“Me and Miss Matlock, you mean.”
“Yeah, you and Miss Matlock.”
Doug stepped closer to the bed. “Wish I didn’t have to leave, but I’ve got no choice. At least there won’t be any trouble for you with the sheriff since he was there for the whole thing.” He patted Jared’s shoulder. “You take care. And I hope you find what you’re looking for in Virginia City.”
“Thanks.”
“But do yourself a favor. Stay put for a couple days like the doctor said.”
“I don’t think I’ll have any choice.”
Doug placed his gray bowler over his dark hair. “One more thing, my friend. Take care of Miss Matlock.”
“I’ll try.”
“I have a feeling there could be something special between you two, if you’d give it a chance.” He turned and walked toward the door. “I like her, Jared. She could change your life for the better.” And with that, the door closed behind Doug.
Something between him and Silver? That’s what Tom Hanover had thought too. And now Doug. Why? Because Silver had risked her life and ended up saving his? Had she done it because she cared or because she needed him to find Bob Cassidy and the money he stole? Whatever the answer, it didn’t matter to him anyway.
As his eyelids drifted closed, his thoughts returned to Fair Acres, back to a time of butter-sunshine days, colts racing through green pastures, mint juleps served in the shade of the veranda. And on that veranda . . . Silver Matlock, her black hair cascading about her shoulders like a waterfall.
Crazy.
Beyond crazy.
It had to be the laudanum . . .
Balancing a tray with one hand, Silver rapped on Jared’s door. When he didn’t answer, she opened it and looked inside. He appeared to be asleep, as the physician said he should be. She started to close the door.
“You can come in, Miss Matlock.”
She pushed the door open farther. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t. I’m just a bit groggy.” He pushed himself up against the pillows at his back, grimacing as he did so. “What time is it?”
“Almost five.” She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “I thought you might be hungry. I’ve brought some soup and bread from the restaurant.”
“I could eat. Thanks.”
She carried the tray to the bed and set it on his lap, then turned to leave.
“Don’t go.” When she looked at him again, he motioned with his head toward a nearby chair. “Stay and keep me company.”
The invitation relieved her. She’d wanted to stay. She’d needed to see how he was doing. There hadn’t been a moment all day that he hadn’t been in her thoughts, that she hadn’t recalled the sight of him in that ditch, his shirt torn and bloodied. He’d sworn to her it looked worse than it was, but she needed to see that for herself.
Jared picked up the spoon from the tray and dipped it into the bowl. “You talk while I eat.”
“Talk about what?” She sank onto the chair.
“Anything you want. Tell me about your life in Twin Springs.”
“We’ve been over that before.”
“Not really. Is that where you were born?”
“No.” She shook her head. “My father owned a store in Ohio before bringing us to Colorado. I was seven when we moved. I remember it was both exciting and scary, leaving everybody we knew behind. My stepmother didn’t want to move, but once we settled in Twin Springs and the mercantile began to succeed, she seemed happy enough. There were lots of miners going through town back then because of so many gold strikes up in the mountains. Mother was certain we would be as rich as Solomon himself. She was determined we would one day move to Denver and become part of grand society. What she wanted most in the world was for my sister, Rose, to marry someone of wealth and position.” She smiled at the memory of her stepsister’s wedding, how happy Rose had been as she married the man she loved—a man with little money and no position in the society Silver’s stepmother coveted. But at least Rose and Dan Downing lived in Denver. That was some consolation for Marlene Matlock.
“What about you?” Jared asked. “What sort of man did she envision for you?”
&n
bsp; Silver laughed, though it was bittersweet. “I doubt she ever had much hope of me marrying well, if at all. I was a skinny, gawky child, more interested in books and horses than boys. That didn’t change much as I got older. I have few feminine qualities to my credit. She fears I will wind up a spinster.”
“Surely you didn’t believe that.”
“That I would be a spinster?” She shrugged. “Yes, I did think it. I do think it. Not many men approve of my radical thinking.”
“What sort of radical thinking?” Jared slid the tray from his lap to the bedside stand.
“You should eat some more of that.”
“I’ve had enough for now. What sort of radical thinking?”
His persistence surprised her. Or maybe it was his interest. “Like women voting. Why shouldn’t we enjoy the same right as men? We’re citizens of this country too. Who knows? Given the vote, we might one day see a woman president.”
Jared loved the sparkle in her eyes, the excitement in her voice. While he doubted there would ever come a time that a woman occupied the White House, he couldn’t help but enjoy listening to Silver talk about such a possibility.
“Would you want to be president?” he asked.
“Me? Heavens, no.”
“What about a senator or governor?”
Her smile broadened as she shook her head. “Not those either. I’ve listened to my father often enough to know I haven’t the patience for politics. But some women will serve in those positions someday.”
“So what would you want to do, if there was nothing to hold you back? Not people or money or anything else. Freedom to do whatever you most wanted.”
“I’d own a ranch. A horse ranch. Maybe a little like the place your family had. I would raise the best stock in all of Colorado. Maybe I’d go to college so I could think like a businessman. And I suppose, if I could, I would travel to places I’ve only read about. Like Europe or the Far East.”
The Heart's Pursuit Page 10