Wildfire Creek (Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Book 2)

by Shirleen Davies

  Noah let the damage inside the cabin wait until he’d unsaddled Tempest and placed him in the lean-to he’d built in back. He dropped an armful of hay in front of the horse, then used rags to wipe him down, thinking of the incident in the cabin. Something seemed off, but he couldn’t figure out what. He tossed the rags aside, grabbed his saddlebags, and headed into the cabin, removing his coat and hat. Reaching up, he hung the coat on a hook, then stopped. Even though he hadn’t gotten a good look, he swore the thief hadn’t worn a coat or hat. He shook his head, realizing it would be madness for anyone to venture out on a frigid night without wearing warm clothing. He’d check for tracks tomorrow. Tonight, he’d clean up the broken glass, eat, and get some sleep, hopeful his mind would clear enough by morning to recall a better image of the thief than the one he had tonight.

  Big Pine, Montana

  “What the hell are you thinking, coming here?” Rick Marlowe glanced outside before slamming the door shut and turning an angry glare at Flatnose. Although early morning, anyone could’ve seen the man ride up. “We agreed you’d get a message to me if you wanted to talk and we’d meet up outside of town.”

  Flatnose ignored the tirade and walked toward a table where glasses and a bottle of whiskey sat, waiting for him to help himself. He poured a good measure and downed it in one gulp.

  “The news I have couldn’t wait.”

  The hairs on the back of Rick’s neck danced as Flatnose drank another shot, set down the empty glass, and turned toward him.

  “Word has it a large shipment of gold will be heading out within a few weeks. Bigger than any we’ve ever gone after.”

  “I don’t see how that’s important to us. We made a decision to lie low and let everything blow over.”

  “You made the decision to lie low, not the rest of us. The boys are restless, tired of keeping watch on the herd and sitting around as wagon after wagon moves from the mines to town.”

  “They may not like tending cattle, but it’s a lot better than coming against the Pinkerton man the town hired or the sheriff and his deputies. I can tell you they haven’t stopped looking for us or believing we’ll hit again. Now’s not the time to draw their attention.”

  Flatnose looked around the room, noting the fine furnishings and expensive paintings. “You’re just growing soft, living in a place like this.”

  Rick snorted at the comment. “You’ve got as much stashed away as me. Probably more, now that I’ve used part for this place.”

  “It’s not enough,” Flatnose sneered. “I want more. The men want more. You’re holding us back.”

  Rick didn’t like the tone in his partner’s voice. He took a couple of steps forward and planted his feet, ready to pull the gun holstered on his right.

  “What you’re talking about is folly. Wouldn’t surprise me if the committee is setting this shipment up to draw us in. Have you thought of that?” The look on Flatnose’s face told Rick he hadn’t. “They’re serious about doing whatever is needed to find us. If they do catch even one of us, they’ll find everyone else. None of the men will go to their deaths without talking.”

  “Maybe so, or it might be they’ve already decided we’ve given up and left the area.”

  “Then why have they sent for a second Pinkerton man?”

  Flatnose’s eyes flew to Rick’s. “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Felicity is friends with the sheriff. Sterling told her the citizens committee approved a second agent to partner with Tom Horton. That news doesn’t tell me they believe we’ve packed up and left.” Rick pulled back the curtains from a front window and glanced around before letting them drop. “You need to leave. Anyone could’ve seen you come in.”

  “We’re not done with this, Rick. You check on the new agent, and I’ll see what more I can learn about the shipment.” He swung the door open, then turned back. “The men aren’t done and neither am I.”

  Rick watched him leave, a sick feeling building in his chest. He’d hoped his outlaw days were over so he could distance himself from his association with Flatnose. The man wouldn’t be satisfied with what he had, knowing there’d always be more gold out there ready to be taken.

  What disgusted Rick the most was his partner’s belief they shouldn’t let any of the guards live, even if they did cover their faces. He’d been able to hold him off since the killing of the last two guards, telling Flatnose it made no sense when they couldn’t identify any of the gang. However, he knew he couldn’t hold him off much longer. The man’s need to kill had to do less with his desire to protect their identities and more with his own need for blood. If ever a man existed who enjoyed the act more, Rick hadn’t met him.

  He walked to the kitchen and tossed out his cold coffee, filling the cup again and taking a sip, contemplating his next move. He had no intention of riding with the gang again. Rick knew Flatnose had no desire to stop the raids, so an idea began to form in his mind. It would be risky and require much more thought, but it might be the answer he’d been seeking. A way to get out of the outlaw life for good.

  Redemption’s Edge Ranch

  “Are you certain you don’t want me to ride along?” Rachel asked as Ginny climbed onto the wagon seat.

  Ginny glanced down at her friend and employer, knowing the information she sought would be better obtained alone. She raised her eyes to the clear sky, devoid of clouds, and shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Besides, it will be a quick trip. I need a few items from the general store, and I need to pick up a book I left behind at Suzanne’s. It will give me a chance to see how she’s doing. Thank you for letting Mary stay here with you.”

  Rachel watched Mary running after a group of chickens and chuckled. “She’s no problem at all. I sure don’t know where she gets her energy.” She wrapped her arms around her waist, holding the wool coat tight. “Go ahead. Stay at Uncle Charles’ if the weather turns bad.” She stayed on the porch until the wagon had disappeared, then walked toward Mary.

  Rachel undid then retied the bonnet under her chin and shivered. She hadn’t slept well again last night and now couldn’t seem to get warm. She had to talk about her symptoms with her uncle. Maybe he’d have some idea of why she’d been feeling so poorly. Even with her extensive nurse experience, Rachel knew her skills lay in healing the wounded and not sick patients.

  “Come on inside.” Holding out her hand, Rachel clasped Mary’s smaller one and turned toward the house. Everyone except Hank and Bernice were with the herd. Bernice had improved since Ginny arrived and even gotten out of bed, letting Hank walk her to the big house a couple of times. Her energy didn’t last long, though. Within minutes, he’d wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her back to their place. At least she seemed to be feeling better.

  “I saw a boy today.” Mary’s comment almost escaped Rachel’s notice.

  “What boy?”

  “The one who comes in the morning.” She said it as if everyone knew him.

  They took the front steps, then walked inside. Mary pulled her hand free and worked to unbutton her coat. Rachel hung both coats on hooks, then headed for the kitchen.

  “Tell me about the boy, Mary,” she said before filling a kettle with water, placing it on the stove, and sitting down at the table.

  “You know…the boy who hides with the chickens.” She climbed on a chair and sat next to Rachel, grabbing a tin filled with biscuits.

  “Do you see him every morning?”

  Mary shook her head as she fumbled with the metal lid.

  Rachel reached over, removed the lid, and took out a biscuit, handing it to her. “Do you want some jam?”

  She nodded. “Yes, please.”

  Rachel pulled jam from the cupboard, cut the biscuit, and slathered a generous portion on each side. “Have you ever spoken with him?”

  “No. I can’t find him when I go outside.” She took a large bite of the biscuit and grinned.

  Rachel leaned back in her chair and wondered what to make of Mary’s comments. Was it the im
agination of a little girl who had no one else to play with, or had she truly seen a boy hiding in the chicken coop? She waited until Mary had stuffed the last bite in her mouth, then stood.

  “Come outside with me. I want you to show me where you’ve seen the boy.”

  Mary slipped into her coat, dashed down the steps, and ran toward the chicken pen, pointing toward the door to the coop. “He hides in there, Miss Rachel.”

  “What does he look like?”

  “He’s bigger than me.” She held a hand above her head.

  “Taller than Mr. Dax?”

  “No,” Mary giggled. “Like Ginny.”

  “Do you remember what he wears?”

  Mary grabbed Rachel’s hand, pulled her into the house, and pointed to a pillow Bernice had made with deerskin Running Bear had traded them for meat.

  Deerskin, Rachel thought. It seemed as if the men were right about the thieves being Indian. Few white men wore deerskin.

  “If you like, you can help me start supper.”

  Mary ran toward the kitchen. Rachel trudged along behind her, feeling tired while looking forward to speaking with Dax and Luke. They’d be most interested in what Mary had seen. Perhaps now they could catch the culprit and stop the pattern of stolen supplies.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Nick Barnett finished dinner, nodding when Suzanne walked up with a pot of coffee. “Sure tasted good, Mrs. Briar.” He held his cup up, noticing again the attractive boardinghouse owner. He knew she’d lost her husband and daughter years before, and had heard the stories of her refusing any offers of marriage since.

  “Thank you, Mr. Barnett. Can I get you another piece of pie?” Suzanne offered a broad smile to the saloon owner. A week before he’d come to her, asking if there might be an extra room at her place, one he could rent for an indefinite period. At first she’d been hesitant, knowing he had a place at the Dixie, then she listened to his reasons. After years of owning and living above saloons, he’d grown tired of the noise and lack of privacy. He wanted a quiet place to rest at night, and one where he could leave his personal belongings without worrying about them.

  “I’d better not. At least not until tonight after supper,” he said, giving her a quick wink. He looked around the empty restaurant and nodded toward a chair. “Why don’t you sit a while, keep me company until I finish my coffee.”

  Suzanne seldom stopped to take a break, as the work at the boardinghouse seemed never to end. She’d start each day preparing breakfast for boarders and guests, then clean rooms and do laundry while she baked pies and started dinner. After the noon meals were finished, she’d start supper. Her normal day lasted from before dawn to well into the night. More than six hours of sleep felt like a luxury.

  She took a quick look around as Nick stood to pull out a chair. “Thank you. Sitting sounds real good.”

  Nick waited for her to sit, pushed in the chair, and walked to a shelf on a nearby wall. He grabbed a coffee cup and filled it for Suzanne.

  “Now I won’t feel so awkward sitting alone.” He sat and wrapped his hands around his own cup.

  She let her eyes wander over him, realizing how little she knew about the man. In truth, she learned little about any of her boarders, most staying a week, two at the most, then moving on.

  “How long have you owned this place?”

  She blinked at his question, feeling embarrassed at being caught staring. “I bought the boardinghouse years ago when the owner wanted to move south.”

  “Did it always have a restaurant?” He stretched out his legs and relaxed, letting her warm, rich voice wash over him.

  “Only large enough for the boarders. When Splendor began to grow a few years ago, I added space and opened it up to others.” She sipped her coffee, looking over the rim of her cup at Nick, wondering what had happened to his left eye to require the use of a patch. Someday she’d find the courage to ask him. “Have you been in the saloon business long?”

  “Too long, I’m afraid. My mother worked in a saloon when she had me.” He held her gaze, watching for the look of pity he’d come to expect when others learned where he’d grown up.

  Instead, the corners of Suzanne’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “I guess that would qualify you to run a saloon.” She offered a warm smile—not what he’d expected.

  “That’s the same response I got from my partner when I told her.”

  “Your partner is a woman?” The information surprised Suzanne. She assumed he’d be partnered with a man.

  His mouth tilted up at the stunned look on her face. “And quite a woman at that.”

  “Your wife?” Suzanne wished she could yank the question back as soon as it escaped her lips.

  Nick almost spit out the coffee in his mouth. “No, not my wife,” he managed to choke out. “It’s business only.”

  Suzanne felt an unexpected feeling of relief knowing he wasn’t married. “Never married?”

  “Never. I came close a couple of times before realizing I’d make a horrible husband and an even worse father.”

  “I find that hard to believe, Mr. Barnett.”

  “What kind of life could I offer a woman with me spending most of my days and nights in a saloon? It would take a special woman to want to get tangled up with me.”

  Nick looked up and Suzanne turned at the sound of the front door opening. Both stood to greet Ginny as she walked toward them, Suzanne wrapping her in a hug.

  “I thought you’d never come for a visit,” she said and dropped her arms.

  “This is the first chance I’ve had to get away. Dax and Rachel keep me quite busy.” Ginny turned her head toward Nick. “Good afternoon, Mr. Barnett.”

  “Miss Sorensen. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Have you eaten? There’s still plenty left in the kitchen.” Suzanne could see by the look on Ginny’s face she hadn’t. “I’ll be right back.” She walked toward the kitchen, leaving Nick and Ginny alone.

  Nick pulled out a chair. “Join us. We were just finishing our coffee.”

  She took a seat and clasped her hands in her lap.

  “How is your job at the Pelletier place?”

  “Busy. It’s much bigger and they have more men than I expected.”

  “Must be a lot better than working at the Rose.” He crossed his arms over his chest and sat back.

  “In most ways.”

  “Oh?”

  “Dax and Rachel are wonderful. I’m just not certain it’s the best place for me.”

  Nick narrowed his eyes, fixing them on Ginny, wondering what she meant.

  “Here you are.” Suzanne set a plate in front of Ginny. “There’s pie when you’re done.”

  She inhaled the wonderful aroma of Suzanne’s stew, glad to be eating someone else’s cooking for a change. “It smells great.”

  “Same food as always.”

  “It’s time for me go. Miss Sorensen, I hope to see you again and learn more about your work for the Pelletiers.”

  “I hope to get back into town more often, Mr. Barnett.”

  He made a slight bow to Suzanne and left.

  Suzanne’s gaze followed Nick, feeling a tug in her chest—unlike anything she’d felt in years.

  Ginny finished the last bite and set her fork down, watching Suzanne’s reaction. “Does he come in here to eat often?”

  Suzanne swung her head toward Ginny, feeling her face heat. “He rents a room here. So, yes, he takes his meals here every day. Tell me how it’s working out at Rachel’s.”

  Ginny explained the work, the rooms provided to them, and the men who worked there, carefully avoiding any mention of Luke. “The days are long. Sometimes I fall into bed without the energy to even slip out of my dress.”

  “Mary’s happy?”

  “Yes, she loves it there.”

  “It sounds perfect.” And it did, except Suzanne didn’t see the sparkle she expected in Ginny’s eyes. “And Luke? I heard he returned from his trip.”

  Ginny let her ey
es fall to her lap, then looked up. “He has.”

  “And he’s not too happy about you living at the ranch.”

  “How did you know?”

  Suzanne admired Ginny’s determination to provide a life for Mary, build a friendship with Luke, and assert some independence. Few women her age would make the same choice, preferring to find a man to take care of them. Unfortunately, Ginny seemed unaware of the struggle Luke felt between his own need for freedom and the obvious affection he held for her. Suzanne doubted either recognized or accepted the strong feelings each had for the other.

  “It’s hard for men to become friends with a woman. No matter their intentions, he’ll eventually want something more, or the struggle will be so great, he’ll decide to walk away.”

  “What struggle?” Ginny leaned forward, placing her arms on the table.

  “Ginny, it’s obvious he’s attracted to you. He’s also made it clear he isn’t content to settle down. You’re a temptation he doesn’t need.”

  Ginny let Suzanne’s words play over in her mind, trying to understand their meaning. She started to speak, then stopped, as if everything had suddenly become clear.

  “You think he likes me?” Ginny’s astonishment amused Suzanne.

  “Yes. I believe Luke likes you very much. Too much, given the plans he has to work the ranch and for Pinkerton. He craves his independence. Luke believes he can’t be tied to one woman, no matter how attracted he is to her. Of course, he might change his mind. For now, all he can do is push you away and avoid being around you.”

  “If what you say is true, I’m coming between him, Dax, and Rachel.”

  “I don’t believe that’s true or Rachel wouldn’t have offered you the job. I’m sure he spends time with Dax on ranch business and working the herd. He may not choose to stay as often for supper, but that’s his choice. Don’t blame yourself for how he decides to deal with your presence there.”

  Ginny didn’t respond as she thought through Suzanne’s words, trying to come to some decision about her and Mary’s future. She could stay and continue to be a wedge between the brothers, or begin to search for another solution. The need to look for something else didn’t come as a surprise. She’d already felt her only option was to leave, allowing Luke to feel comfortable and welcome once again. He wouldn’t as long as she and Mary lived at the ranch.