******
The Bierdan ranch lay over the ridge in front of him and abutted the Taylor spread on the west for several miles. Although not as large as the Big G, the locals told him the only place more successful than the Bierdan ranch was Grant Taylor’s spread. Will had learned that Chet Hollis had been working for Gordon Bierdan for at least two years. Best he could figure, others respected Chet as a ranch hand, even if he was a hothead and braggart. No one seemed to particularly like him. Will had been told Chet hung out with a man named Wiley, who also worked at the Bierdan place. Wiley seemed to be the one to help Chet out of sticky situations and keep relations with other ranchers on good terms. Perhaps Will could get him to open up about Hollis.
He’d ignored Jake’s request that he ride with one of the boys to get to know the land. Will had his own agenda for the day, and it didn’t include tagging along with another ranch hand.
Will planned to ride the fence line from one end of the common boundary to the other, keeping an eye on the happenings below, and figure out the best way to isolate Hawley, or Hollis, as he now called himself. There was no real hurry. Even if Hawley got wind of MacLaren being in the area, where would he go? Will would be on his tail without a backward glance, and this time he’d get the bastard who killed Emily.
She had been the sweetest person he’d ever known. Funny and bright, she always knew just what to do when he was angry, or confused, as he’d often been between the time he had met her at thirteen and their marriage several years later. Everyone had loved her, and why wouldn’t they? She was the most giving person he’d ever known, with a huge heart and boundless energy. And for a time, she had been his, and his future had seemed limitless. Now? Well, there wasn’t any future, and wouldn’t be until Emily’s killer was brought to justice. Soon, Emily, he thought. It will be real soon now.
Chapter Six
Denver, Colorado
“Hey, Mr. MacLaren!” Drew heard the shout from down the street and turned to see his secretary hurrying after him. Drew MacLaren had graduated from Columbia School of Law. He had taken a position at a large, prestigious firm in New York City for a few years, reviewing and preparing business contracts, but then decided his heart was still rooted in the land, in ranching. He was fortunate. One of his largest clients in New York owned holdings in silver mines and ranches in Colorado. Louis Dunnigan needed someone to handle all of his legal issues out of the state capitol of Denver. He wanted a man who understood the differences between East Coast society and the more primitive culture of the West, as both skills would be required for success. And, Dunnigan needed someone who’d be willing to move west for the opportunity. Drew jumped at the chance. Over a year into the move, he was still pleased with his decision.
“Good morning, Terrance. What can I do for you?” Drew stopped to wait for the older man to catch up.
“Message from Splitshot, New Mexico. Labeled urgent, so I thought it best to deliver it post-haste, sir.” Terrance handed Drew the message and waited for a response.
Splitshot? Now who did he know in that part of New Mexico? Then it clicked. Cord McAllister. Drew opened the message and read through it a couple of times before looking down at the shorter man who was standing, waiting.
“Would you like me to send a response for you, sir?” He spoke in a crisp, no nonsense voice. He had excellent credentials, impeccable taste in clothes, and a long history with Dunnigan Enterprises, but he always seemed to be just a little too polished for Denver, the West in general, and especially for Drew.
“No thank you, Terrance. I’ll handle this one myself.” He was already contemplating the implied consequences of the message from his old friend.
“As you wish, Mr. MacLaren,” Terrance said, but saw that his boss had already turned to walk down the street.
******
Chet Hollis decided to bide his time, learn more about Will MacLaren, and, most important, learn how to shield himself from whatever the bounty hunter had in mind. Hollis had known MacLaren was the husband of the woman he’d murdered. He’d learned it soon afterwards, but, at the time, his only thoughts were to ride out of the territory, lose himself, and not look back. Had he known how persistent the man would be at pursuing him, even after everyone else had accepted the false report of his death, he’d have left another body behind in Fire Mountain, not just an injured man.
Things had gone bad that day for Chad Hawley, now known as Chet Hollis. His Pa, brothers, and several members of their gang had busted Hawley out of a small jail, about a half-day’s ride from Fire Mountain. They’d stopped at a saloon in the booming ranching area, eaten, gotten liquored up, and then ridden north out of town when word started to spread that an outlaw had broken out of jail in Watsonville, wounding the deputy.
They were all feeling good—too good, given their dire circumstances—but liquor had a way of turning their heads, making them crazy. The brothers continued to share a bottle of whiskey as they rode. Their Pa wasn’t happy with their defiance of his order to throw it away. He watched as their behavior continued to deteriorate. Several miles outside of Fire Mountain, their Pa spotted a wagon crossing not far in front of them. He held up his hand for them to hold up, wait until it passed, but Chad saw that one of the passengers was a woman, and he hadn’t had a woman in a long time.
The brothers ignored their Pa and raced each other towards the unsuspecting couple. Before long the man was shot and pulled out of the wagon, and Chad had the woman in the brush off the road, pulling up her dress while she screamed and threw punches at his face, hands, neck, anywhere she could get purchase. She screamed that she was pregnant, but he ignored her, continuing his savage attack.
Her rebelliousness angered him even as it fired up his need for her to a feverish pitch. He took what he wanted, his hands wrapped around her throat to stop her screams. Chad’s hands stilled when her screams ceased, and it was then he saw her vacant eyes. Panic overtook him. He pushed away, mounted his horse, and the group of riders raced from the carnage.
His Pa had decided to split the group up, with Chad going one direction and the rest of them heading another. He’d thrown a couple of bags of coin on the floor and ridden out the following morning, leaving Chad to his own fate. Over the following months Chad heard that his Pa had been gunned down in Utah, his brothers tried and hung in Arizona, and the other members of the gang arrested or killed. He was the only one left. MacLaren was the man who’d tracked them all down.
He devised the plan to get himself “killed” in Santa Fe with the cooperation of a deputy willing to help him out for a financial contribution. Everyone had accepted Chad Hawley’s death as real. Afterwards, Chet Hollis rode out of Santa Fe and never looked back.
The deputy who’d assisted him in Santa Fe quit his job shortly after Hawley’s reported death. They met up in a small New Mexico town, then headed north, through parts of Utah and Colorado, robbing when needed, until they found Cold Creek. The town needed a sheriff, and Ellis Dutton jumped at the opportunity to hide out in the mountain location. A local rancher needed a wrangler and Chet Hollis and settled into a normal life as a ranch hand for Gordon Bierdan. After almost three years, he’d thought he was finally safe, but MacLaren had found him. The man just didn’t give up. He didn’t know how to walk away. Well, Hollis wasn’t going to run again. He’d find MacLaren’s weakness and get rid of him for good.
******
Will spent the entire day canvassing the Bierdan ranch without spotting Hollis or Wiley. Fact was, most of the men were absent, out riding fences or looking for strays. His years of ranch experience enabled Will to repair fence lines while rounding up half a dozen strays and still watching over the neighboring ranch. He hadn’t held a ranching job in over two years, and truth be told, it felt good. It all came so naturally. It was something he’d been born to do, as Niall and Jamie often reminded him.
Niall was good at the long-term strategy and politics of growing a large ranching empire. Jamie had connections throughout the West.
After years of being a U.S. Marshal, he was highly respected and no one disputed his expertise with a gun. Drew was the scholar of the bunch, heading off to college, then law school, before settling in Denver.
Will had been the true rancher of the group. After Emily, his love had always been the land, the cattle, and horses. At least they had been five years ago. His brothers and aunt had begged him to give up his quest and come home. He knew they needed him, but it just wasn’t time. Maybe it never would be.
“We were beginning to give up on you. Thought the work might be too hard and you took off,” Jake joked when Will rode up with his small herd of stray cattle. “Looks like you had some success. Put those in here for tonight.” He pointed toward the open gate and small, fenced pasture. “We’ll join them up with the main herd north of here tomorrow.”
Will did as Jake ordered, but didn’t speak. Just moved the cattle through the gate, turned towards the barn, and disappeared inside.
After securing the pen, Jake followed Will. “Amanda saved your dinner, if you want to head into the house.” After no response from Will, Jake continued. “Don’t even think about refusing, as she don’t take kindly to making supper and people not showing up. That one hates to waste anything, most of all food.”
Will looked at the foreman, mumbled his thanks, and headed toward the house. The last person Will wanted to see was Amanda. He didn’t know what it was about her, but she conjured up feelings that had no place in his life, and, from what he could tell, he elicited the same feelings in her. But even if they acted on them, there was no future in a relationship with anyone, least of all the daughter of a prominent Colorado rancher. If he ever did end his life as a bounty hunter, he’d return home, to Fire Mountain and his family.
“Mr. MacLaren. Glad you could make it.” Irritation tinged her voice as Amanda motioned for him to have a seat at the small table in the kitchen and placed a large plate, filled to over-flowing, in front of him. He’d thought he wasn’t hungry, but smelling the food and looking at his plate made his stomach growl. Jerky and hardtack only went so far when you worked as hard as he had today.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Will murmured and attacked the food before him.
Amanda let him eat in silence while she finished cleaning up the pots and stacking them under the counter. Maria had been given the day off, leaving the house responsibilities to Amanda. It had been a long day. When she glanced at the man at the table, she realized for the first time that he looked as tired as she felt, and knew he must be exhausted. She turned her back to him, more to stop staring than to finish the few remaining dishes. After a while, Amanda heard the sound of silverware scraping an empty plate.
“Thanks again, ma’am.” He walked to the sink to clean his plate.
“I’ll take that, Mr. MacLaren. You’re free to head out.” Amanda took the plate from his hand. Her fingers brushed his, and she stilled at the surge of electricity that shot up her arm at the brief touch. She looked up to stare into clear, hazel eyes. He stood well over six-feet-tall and was the most ruggedly handsome man she’d ever seen.
Will couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Her deep blue eyes sparkled with hints of green. They were welcoming eyes that drew him to her. Her raven black hair had been pulled back into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. He wanted to reach out and pull the pins from it to see how it would look falling over her shoulders. His exhaustion couldn’t stop him from wondering what it would be like to find someone again, maybe someone like Amanda, and settle down. His daydreams froze on that last thought and he broke eye contact.
“Thanks again, Miss Taylor. I appreciate you holding some food for me.” He strolled to the back door.
“Mr. MacLaren?” Amanda called after him.
Will turned, not sure what to expect.
“Don’t count on it happening again. Everyone eats on time here, so I expect you’ll be at the table with everyone else tomorrow. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Will tipped his hat and walked through the door into the cool night air. As he started toward the bunkhouse a slight smile curved his usually grim mouth. He hadn’t realized until now what a foreign feeling a smile had become. Well, he wouldn’t become used to it, he told himself, but Amanda Taylor sure did have a way about her.
Chapter Seven
Fire Mountain, Arizona
“What’s the message say, Jamie?” Aunt Alicia asked when Jamie just stared at the paper he held. Jamie, Torie, their young son, Adam, and Aunt Alicia had come into Fire Mountain for supplies. Torie’s parents owned the general store, as well as the largest hotel in town, and the bulk of their supplies were always ready to pick up each Saturday. Today, however, his in-laws and aunt were going to visit and watch Adam while he took his wife to lunch at Mattie’s. Even though the family would celebrate Torie’s birthday at home tonight, he wanted to do something special. Tom, from the telegraph office, had intercepted him just as he and Torie were leaving the store.
“It’s from Cord McAllister, in New Mexico. Will thinks he’s found the last man, Chad Hawley, and is tracking him to Cold Creek, Colorado.” Jamie looked up to see the concern on his aunt’s face. They all knew if Will found Hawley, he was just as apt to kill him outright as to take him in for trial.
“My God.” Alicia’s right hand came up to cover her mouth. The rest of the family had thought Hawley dead, killed years ago in Santa Fe, but Will had never believed it and had refused to give up the search after learning that no one in Santa Fe, except one deputy, had seen the body. The deputy quit his job days after declaring Hawley dead, left Santa Fe, and no one had heard from him again. Jamie had also thought it didn’t sound right, but no one had any proof otherwise. Maybe Will had been correct all along when he’d told them he thought it had been a setup. He always did have incredible instincts.
“Are you planning to go to Cold Creek, Jamie?” Torie asked. She was six months pregnant with their second child and the last thing Jamie wanted to do was leave her.
“I don’t know. I need to speak with Niall before I make a decision. Cord indicated he already sent word to Drew, so we’ll contact him, also–––get his thoughts.” Jamie sighed. He’d never lost hope Will would return home to the ranch. Now dread consumed him, knowing what the message might mean.
“We’ll ride back to the ranch, then.” Torie turned to find Adam and say good-bye to her folks.
“But lunch, your birthday…” Jamie said.
Torie looked back at her husband, concern for her brother-in-law etched on her face. “This is much more important. I’ll have my birthday dinner tonight, while we all talk about how to find Will and bring him home.”
******
“Will, I’d like you to go with Amanda and Joey into town. Help them with supplies and pick up any messages. Mr. Taylor tries to keep us posted on his travels, but we haven’t heard anything in several weeks.” Jake limped towards Will and the other men who were taking their Saturday morning coffee outside the bunkhouse.
“Get one of the others to go, Jake. I’ve got plans.” Will didn’t even look up from his coffee, just kept blowing on the hot brew to cool it down.
“I asked you, MacLaren, and you’re the one who’ll go.” Jake had no problem with the men having plans on their own days, but Saturday was considered a work day, and the others already had their work laid out. “Besides, Sheriff Dutton sent a man out yesterday, asking to speak with you. You had already ridden out, so I told him you’d see the sheriff today. Just makes sense you take Amanda and Joey with you.”
“What the hell happened to you, Boss?” Tinder, one of the youngest hands, hadn’t noticed Jake’s injured leg until now.
“Fell off his horse. Didn’t you know that, Tin?” Frank Alts had been at the ranch just a couple of months and had become friends with Tinder and his buddy, Johnny Mullins. Tinder and Johnny had signed on together at the Big G a few years before. They’d taken a liking to Alts and now the three rode together most days.
“Nothing any of
you need to concern yourself with. Isn’t it about time you all finished your coffee and got going?” Jake looked at his pocket watch. “It’s almost six and you’re all sitting here like society ladies. Now, get moving.” Jake turned toward the barn, but looking over his shoulder he spotted Will still sitting on the step. “You, too, MacLaren. Wagon doesn’t hitch itself.”
Hell, Will thought as he poured his half finished coffee on the ground and followed the foreman to the barn. He had plans and they didn’t include watching over the young mistress and her brother. Would’ve been better to send Tinder or Alts with them. Much to Will’s disgust, Tinder had seldom taken his eyes off Miss Taylor since Will had arrived. It irritated him when the other men watched Amanda with too much interest, but damned if he understood why. He needed distance from her, not the forced closeness of a day fetching supplies in town.
Fifteen minutes later the wagon was out front of the house. Will had Justice saddled, and glanced up to see Jake and several other men leaving for the south pasture. Jake had assumed Will would ride with Amanda and Joey in the wagon, but Will had other ideas. It would just be too tight for three people, and much too close for him and Miss Taylor.
“Mr. MacLaren.” Amanda acknowledged him while descending the steps to board the wagon. Joey came flying out a minute later, jumped into the wagon, and grabbed the reins.
“Good morning, Miss Taylor, Joey,” Will said. “You two ready?”
“Yep,” Joey replied then tapped the horses with the reins to start the trip.
Three hours later all the supplies were loaded. While Amanda and Joey left for lunch, Will walked to the telegraph office for any messages. Sure enough, Mr. Taylor had sent one to Jake, and another to Joey and Amanda. The third message was for one of the hands. He’d just turned to leave when the clerk called to him.
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