Big Pine, Montana
“It’s lovely, Frederick.” Felicity walked around the house Rick had purchased at the edge of town. The place had been vacant for months, allowing him to get it at a cheap price. It stood a few blocks from her home.
After the last job, Rick took Flatnose up on his offer to run the ranch while he spent time in Big Pine. He hadn’t yet told his partner of his decision to quit the life they’d started a few years before. Rick had as much gold as any man needed and he wanted out, away from the constant dread Flatnose would lose control and kill again.
He planned to return to the Star Ranch one more time—to pick up his share of the gold.
“I still need furniture, and there’s some repair work that needs to be done from standing empty for so long.” He walked to a window, pulled back the curtain, and looked out. The lots were large, allowing for more privacy than the smaller homes built close together near the center of town. He turned toward Felicity, admiring her beauty, wondering at her attraction to a man like him.
He watched as she moved from the front living area toward the parlor, then the study. She opened the door and stepped back.
“Oh, they left all the books.” She walked straight to the massive bookshelf, ran her fingers along the spines until her eyes locked on one and she pulled it out. “Look, Frederick. The first volume of Great Expectations by Charles Dickens.” She opened it reverently, turned a few pages, her expression bright and excited. “I wonder if the other two volumes are here.” She scanned the shelves again, finding them after a few minutes of searching. “Have you read these? They’re wonderful.”
Her enthusiasm over something as simple as a book touched Rick, and he found his breath hitch as her broad smile flashed at him.
“Uh…no. I’ve never read it.” He had no intention of falling in love again or trying to reclaim the life he’d lost to the murderous posse years before. Meeting Felicity had changed him and he found the hope he thought was lost. “I’m going upstairs. Take as much time as you want, then join me.”
Rick strode up the stairs at a slow pace, admiring the wooden banister, recalling the night he and his wife had laid in bed and spoke of the day they’d be able to afford a home such as this. It had been a silly dream back then, both knowing he’d never earn enough for anything more than what they already had, yet it had been a good dream. One that had turned into a nightmare a few days later.
He walked to the end of the hall and pushed open the door to a large bedroom, furnished with an ornate four-poster bed. The first time he’d seen it, Rick found himself conjuring up an image of he and Felicity tangled together under the sheets. He wanted the image to become reality.
“Here you are.” Felicity walked up beside him, her eyes wide. “What a beautiful bedroom.” As she’d done in the study, she walked around, running her fingers over the furniture, noticing each small detail. “You’ve found a wonderful home. I’m sure you’ll be quite happy here.” She looked at him without expectations, simply enjoying the fact he’d found what he wanted.
She stopped in front of an oil painting of a stallion and studied it. Rick walked up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her to him, nuzzling her neck.
“You could share this with me,” he whispered.
He heard her sigh, then nervous laughter as she turned in his arms and pushed back a little to look up at him.
“Marry me, Felicity.” Rick hadn’t expected to ask her today, maybe never. He watched as her gaze moved from him to the ground. Her hesitation already signaled the answer.
“I care about you a great deal, Frederick. It’s just, well… I’m not ready to remarry. I need more time.” Her husband died a few years before, leaving her comfortable, if not wealthy. She lived a simple life, had become involved in the community, and was well-liked. He knew she had no reason to be tied to a man.
“I’ll give you as much time as you need.” He kissed her, then stepped away. “I’m finished here. Let me take you to dinner.”
She let out a breath, her relief at not being pressured obvious. “I’d like that.”
He helped her into the carriage he’d purchased the day before and drove to a restaurant she’d mentioned wanting to try. As the town’s population swelled from the discovery of gold, the number of good restaurants, hotels, and theatres expanded, allowing residents to have a choice not enjoyed in most frontier cities.
Rick placed his hands on her waist to help her down, then wrapped her hand around his arm as they entered. A man dressed in a black suit approached.
“May I help you?” the steward asked.
“A table for two, please.” Rick looked behind the steward to see a room half-filled with people, then went still at the sound of a man’s voice behind him.
“Excuse me. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m to meet Sheriff Sterling. Is he here?” The question was directed at the steward, but the voice sliced through Rick as if it were a knife piercing his heart. His grip tightened on Felicity’s hand, causing her to let out a gasp before he let her arm drop from his and turned slowly. The man’s look of surprise mirrored Rick’s as their eyes locked.
“Sheriff Duncan.” Rick’s voice held distinct disdain. He didn’t hold out his hand, keeping his arms rigid at his sides.
“Marlowe. I haven’t seen you since...” Ezra Duncan’s eyes clouded as if he’d been gripped by a memory from his past—one which haunted him.
“Nebraska, I believe.” The chill in Rick’s voice remained, but he made no further comment to the man who led the posse that killed his wife and son.
A cough from behind Rick had both men looking up at the steward standing a few feet away, his eyes on Ezra. “When you’re ready, I’ll show you to the table where Sheriff Sterling is seated.”
“Excuse me,” Ezra said to Rick. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but stopped himself and followed the steward to his table.
“Who is he, Frederick?”
He glanced down at Felicity’s worried expression, his lips forming a thin line. “Just a ghost from my past. One I’d like to forget.”
They ate in silence, Rick’s gaze darting between Felicity and the table where Sterling and Duncan sat. He wondered at the lawman’s presence in Big Pine, as well as the reason for his meeting with Sterling. He tried not to let it affect his time with Felicity, but found it hard to keep the hate from his mind as he watched the man who ruined his life sitting so comfortably across the room.
Duncan had been steadfast in his condemnation of Marlowe, certain he’d been a part of the gang which terrorized the small Nebraska community. To his credit, he had apologized for the killings of Marlowe’s family, but his belief in Marlowe’s guilt remained firm. Only when two of the gang members, arrested for their part in brutalizing the residents, testified Rick had no part in any of their activities had Duncan relented, finally admitting they’d been after the wrong man.
“Would you care for anything else?” the steward asked.
“No, we’re finished here,” Rick replied.
The steward moved to the next table as Rick laid his napkin down. He had to get away from Duncan and memories of the past. He’d take Felicity home, change clothes, then ride to his ranch where he could put the man’s face behind him. By the time he retrieved his gold and returned, Ezra Duncan would be gone from Big Pine and out of Rick’s life once again.
Denver, Colorado
“You believe they’ll strike again tonight?” Gus Salter asked, hands on his hips and irritation in his voice. They’d said nothing to convince the rancher his head man for over twenty years was responsible for the rustling.
Although Dutch had told Gus and Elgin Salter he had a reputable informant, he hadn’t confided the identity of the person who’d supplied the details. Neither knew Nell Deeds, their cook and housekeeper, was privy to the foreman’s plans.
“Yes, sir.” Dutch leaned over a map of the local area. “From what we know, they plan to drive cattle from this pasture to th
e property line here.” He indicated a spot on the boundary between Salter land and an adjoining ranch. “Luke and Tom will be at this location, along with the sheriff’s men. I’ll follow Bray.”
“We’ll go with you.” Gus glanced at Dutch.
“It would be better for you and Elgin to stick with Luke and Tom. It’s easier to spot three men tracking you than just one. We don’t want Bray to get suspicious.”
Salter cut a look at Dutch. “I’ll stay with your men, but Elgin will ride with you.”
Dutch glanced at Luke and Tom, who both nodded.
“All right.” He looked at Elgin. “I expect they’ll start out around midnight.”
“I’ll be ready,” Elgin said. The idea Bob Bray led the group of rustlers still ate at him. Bray was like a second father to him. He found it hard to believe the man he’d grown up around would betray them like this.
“How long would it take to drive cattle between the two locations?” Luke asked.
“If they keep moving? An hour, maybe a little longer.” Gus paced to the window, watching Bray with a group of ranch hands. Bob was his closest friend, his ally. Sadness and disbelief engulfed him as he kept his gaze fixed on the group outside, wondering what had changed between them.
He turned back to the others. “We set?”
“I believe we are, Mr. Salter. I’ll be back after supper. I suggest you meet Luke and Tom in town later tonight.”
The three walked to their horses, glancing at Bray and the other men near the barn. Salter had introduced them as businessmen from St. Louis, and Bray hadn’t indicated he believed otherwise. If it weren’t for Nell, Luke wouldn’t have guessed the foreman to be the gang leader. He couldn’t imagine learning any of the Pelletier men were involved in rustling cattle.
Dutch glanced over his shoulder as they rode from the ranch. “We need to meet with the sheriff, make sure we’re ready for tonight.”
“I’m concerned about Salter.” Luke didn’t like the look on the rancher’s face when they left.
“How so?” Dutch asked.
“Someone needs to stick close to him so he doesn’t do anything rash.”
“Such as take a shot at Bray?” Tom asked.
“He’s been adamant Bray’s not involved. I think we need to be prepared for a reaction from Salter when he learns he’s been deceived by his closest friend.” Luke rested a hand on the butt of his gun, wondering how he’d take the news. An image of Bull crossed his mind. He and the ranch hand had become close over the last months, at least as close as Luke would allow himself to get to one of their men. If Bull ever did what they suspected Bray of doing, Luke would be outraged enough to confront him and take matters into his own hands. He hoped Salter’s reaction would be different.
“One of you needs to stay near him, make sure he keeps his temper under control.” Dutch agreed with Luke and expected either Salter or his son to go after Bray once they’d confirmed the truth.
It had been a long few weeks. Luke had hoped to be heading back to Splendor by now, surprised at how much he missed the ranch. If all went well tonight, they’d be on the trail within a couple days.
Dutch and Elgin positioned themselves behind a group of boulders about a half-mile from the smaller of the two bunkhouses. Only the foreman and a few ranch hands slept in the building, while everyone else occupied the larger one. According to Nell, every man where Bray bunked was involved.
If their information proved correct, Bray and his men would have to pass right by Dutch and Elgin to get to the herd.
“Riders coming,” Dutch said, indicating with the end of his rifle.
“They’re too far away to make out their faces,” Elgin murmured, still hoping Bray wouldn’t be among them. His hope faded as they rode closer. He recognized Bray’s horse and the set of the man’s hat—full brimmed and cocked to one side. He let out a mumbled curse at the realization.
“We’ll let them get ahead of us before following.” Dutch hoped they’d get through the night without anyone getting hurt.
Within an hour, they’d followed Bray and his men to the herd. Even though the rustlers kept a steady pace, it took another hour before the cattle approached the spot where Luke and the others were supposed to be waiting. Dutch hoped his men and the sheriff were in place, ready to arrest the rustlers.
Luke heard the cattle approaching before he saw them. They’d guessed Bray would be moving under a hundred head. He and Tom had scouted the area, locating the buyer and his men waiting in a nearby valley. The sheriff had sent a few men to keep watch on them while everyone else stayed put, ready to close in on Bray.
“Can you tell if one of them is Bray?” Luke asked Salter as the herd drew closer.
“It’s Bob all right. No mistake.” The resignation in the man’s voice signified how his friend’s betrayal wounded him.
“We’ll let them pass by, then follow behind. We want them to reach the buyer and his men before making our presence known,” Luke said as the sheriff and Tom joined them.
“Looks to be Bob Bray all right.” The sheriff had been as adamant as Gus Salter in his defense of the ranch foreman. “He’s the last person I’d have thought would do this to you, Gus.”
Salter didn’t respond. No words could describe the confusion and pain he felt at learning the truth.
As the herd approached, Luke could hear Bray yelling orders, making sure not a single head was lost in the transfer to the buyer. He looked toward the front of the herd as it approached the valley, spotting riders moving forward. He guessed those men worked for the buyer.
“Let’s move behind them,” the sheriff said, wanting to close off any retreat Bray might have. His men would approach from the other side, making a tight circle around the cattle, as well as the rustlers. He hoped they’d surrender without a shot fired. No one needed to end up dead tonight.
As Luke, Tom, Salter, and the others closed in, a shout came from behind them. The men turned to see a rider approaching at a quick pace, his gun drawn. Luke recognized Elgin Salter. Gus yelled at his son to stop, but his words had no impact on the young man, who flew toward Bray.
The noise of the herd muffled Elgin’s shouts until he was almost upon Bray. He raised his gun to fire as a shot rang out, the bullet catching Elgin in his shoulder, toppling him from his horse. Within seconds, shots rang out across the valley, causing the herd to stampede first one direction then another as the wild-eyed animals tried to avoid the gunfire.
Luke kept the barrel of his rifle locked on Bray as the man pulled his gun and aimed at the sheriff.
“Don’t do it, Bob. Give up!” Gus yelled, trying to be heard over the sounds of gunfire and cattle. His warning fell on deaf ears.
Bray brought his horse around and redirected his aim at Salter. Before he could get a shot off, a lone bullet ripped through the night, catching Bray square in the chest. He dropped his gun, clutching at the wound, then fell from his horse.
Salter shot a look at Luke, nodded once, then rode straight to his son, who lay on the ground. He slid from his horse and let out a breath as he confirmed the bullet had only grazed his son’s shoulder.
“What the hell were you thinking, riding in like that?” Anger and relief tinged Gus’ voice as he pulled off his shirt, using it to stop the bleeding.
Elgin closed his eyes, not knowing how to answer. He hadn’t planned to ride at Bray. The anger and bewilderment he felt boiled to the surface when he saw the other group of rustlers moving toward the herd. Something snapped and he’d felt powerless to contain his rage.
“Why would he do it, Pa?” His voice was strained and Gus could see tears form in his son’s eyes. The older man felt a slice of pain rip through his chest.
“I don’t know, son. I just don’t know.”
Dutch joined them, kneeling down next to Elgin. “Looks like he’ll be all right.” When Gus didn’t respond, he continued. “A few rustlers got away. The others who survived are under arrest. You may want to check on Bray. He’s hangin
g on, but probably not for long.”
Gus pushed from the ground and walked in slow strides toward Luke and the sheriff, who knelt beside Bray. He looked down, knowing Bob wouldn’t make it. He pulled off his hat and ran a shaking hand through his hair before dropping to his knees.
Luke motioned to the sheriff. Both stood and walked away, leaving Salter and Bray alone.
Bob’s labored breathing turned into a series of wracking coughs. His eyes opened to slits, landing on Gus, who fought to control his emotions.
“Why’d you do it, Bob?” Gus choked out, grabbing his friend’s hand when he reached out to him.
“For Nell…” he managed before the pain gripped him again.
“Nell? I don’t understand.”
Bray forced his eyes open. “Home… She wants a home.” His voice had turned reedy, his words faint.
“I don’t understand. What home?” Gus implored, trying to understand the motivation behind the actions.
Bob opened his eyes once more, but nothing else came before his head rolled to the side and his body stilled.
Chapter Thirteen
Nell sat before Gus and Elgin, wringing a handkerchief between her hands. Sobs shook her small frame as she tried to explain what she knew about Bob’s decision to steal from his friends—men he’d always considered his family.
“Bob wanted to build a house…for me. He’d never saved much, never believing he’d marry.” She took a breath, trying to control the tears. “He needed land and couldn’t figure how else to get it. I begged him to go to you, but he refused. I told him I’d tell you myself, but he said you’d never take my word over his.”
“Hell,” Gus blurted out as he stood and paced the room. “I would’ve given him the land and built him a house. Why didn’t he come to me?”
“Pride.” She wiped tears from her face. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t said I’d marry him if we had a home, none of this would’ve happened.”
Elgin, his wounded shoulder bandaged, took one of her hands in his. “Don’t blame yourself, Nell. The decision to steal our cattle was Bob’s choice. He could’ve spoken with Pa or gone to the bank for a loan, but he didn’t.” Elgin helped Nell stand, then escorted her to her room where she could grieve in private.
Wildfire Creek (Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Book 2) Page 12