She didn’t want to believe him, but she did. She didn’t want to accept his apologies or his explanations either, but she couldn’t help herself. She loved this man, loved him to distraction, loved him enough to forgive him his deception though that didn’t stop her from being angry. Indeed, her hands curled into fists in her lap, her nails digging into her palm. She took a deep breath.
“You could have trusted me, Chase. You could have told me. There were so many opportunities.” Tears filled her eyes again, not only because of what happened to Evan, but because of the things she’d done for him. “I buried a man. Covered him in dirt and left him in the tunnel. For you. I nursed you back to health after you were shot. You could have told me then.”
“I wanted to, Katie. I did, but more than anything else, I wanted—no, I needed to protect you.” A long sigh escaped him. “I know who stole the rifles. I couldn’t expose you to that knowledge. They’re dangerous, desperate people.”
“There’s more, isn’t there? You know who killed your brother, too.” She gasped as realization suddenly struck her. “You think Townsend did it.”
He reached across the table and took her hand, his thumb stroking her knuckles. She didn’t pull away. She couldn’t. The warmth of his hand struck something in her heart. “Yes. I have no proof, but in my heart, I know.”
“What will you do now?”
He didn’t answer. Indeed, he said nothing more as he rose from his seat and approached her. Kathryne raised her head. His gaze met and held hers. In their soft gray depths, she saw his sincerity, and something more. Love. Pure and simple. Despite her anger, her heart raced as he reached for her, drawing her to stand beside him. He embraced her, his warmth melting away the last of her anger as his thumb traced the pattern her tears had made, his touch light and gentle and filled with the same love she saw sparkling in his eyes.
“I love you, Katie O’Rourke. I’ve loved you from the moment I pulled you out of that coach on the mountain pass. Please say you forgive me,” he begged before his lips touched hers.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chase checked his pistols one last time before sliding them into the holster slung low around his hips then pulled on his duster. More bullets rested in the pockets of his coat, although he hoped there wouldn’t be gunfire. The scheme he’d planned should have the element of surprise and, if luck held, there would be no bloodshed. The arrest of Sam Townsend, Cassandra Kinsbrough and their minions should go off without a hitch.
He left Mrs. Rawlins’s Boarding House and made his way to the big boulder outside Crystal Springs where he was to meet Colonel Barstow, his footsteps leaving tracks in the newly fallen snow. His breath plumed from his lips in clouds of white as he scanned the road. Coldness seeped into his bones, into the scars on his side, chest and leg where Terrence had sewn him up after removing the bullets. He stamped his feet in an effort to stay warm and found he missed his lambs-wool lined coat. Although serviceable, the duster left a little to be desired in the way of warmth.
“Nice day for a hangin’,” Ty commented as he joined Chase on the side of the road.
Chase jumped, startled, then whirled around, his pistols leaving the holster in one smooth, continuous move.
Ty held up both hands and laughed. “Don’t shoot me! I’m on your side, remember?”
“Sorry. I’m a bit on edge.” He grinned, uncocked his guns and slid them back into the holster. “And there will be no hanging today, Ty. Dying is too good for Townsend and Kinsbrough.”
“Hey! You shaved off your goatee and mustache!”
A flush warmed his face and he couldn’t help touching the bare skin that was, until this morning, covered with hair. “I figured Townsend and Kinsbrough won’t recognize me too quickly without the hair on my face.” He eyed the hat on Ty’s head. “Switch hats with me.”
“Good idea.” He removed his hat and handed it over. “Now don’t stretch it out with your big head. I’ve had this hat for ten years and it fits me just fine.”
Chase jammed the hat on his head. “You’re an ass.”
“Yep, I haven’t changed a bit.” Ty burst out in laughter then launched into memories of an adventure they had shared when they were young. Chase listened with half an ear, his gaze on the road ahead. Where are you, Colonel?
“What time is it?”
Ty consulted his pocket watch. “It’s almost nine.” He patted Chase on the shoulder as he put the watch away. “Relax. He’ll be here.”
Chase couldn’t relax, the thoughts in his head running rampant. He moved away from Ty and strode to the middle of the road where he prayed for patience and a successful conclusion to the scheme he’d concocted. A breeze whistled through the bare limbs of the trees and he swore he heard his name.
Evan? Are you with me? Help me to bring your murderer to justice.
As if his brother heard his plea, anxiety and apprehension melted away as a sense of peace filled his heart. The doubts he’d been harboring dispersed in the tranquil stillness now flooding his soul.
Thank you, Evan!
He released his breath in a rush, as a man on horseback, clad in a warm winter coat and a hat only a city man would wear, came into view.
Alex.
A buckboard followed at a close distance. Chase couldn’t make out the driver, but if Colonel Barstow had chosen him, he could be trusted.
“Good morning, Captain.” Alex’s breath plumed from his mouth with his greeting and he tipped his hat with a gloved hand. “Fine day for an arrest.”
“Yes, sir, it is.”
The buckboard rolled to a stop beside them. Recognition made him sigh in relief. Colonel Barstow couldn’t have made a better choice than his second in command, Lieutenant Reagan Brody.
“Brody.” Chase shook the hand offered. “The colonel fill you in on everything?”
“Yes, Captain, he did.” He grinned. “And might I say, I’m glad you didn’t desert as I previously thought.”
“Colonel, Lieutenant, please meet Ty Kearney. He’s an old friend as well as a U.S. Marshal.” Hands were offered and shaken before Chase looked at each of them in turn. “Are we ready for this? Everyone know the part they’re supposed to play?”
Affirmative nods answered his question. “Let’s go. Evan and Jeremy have waited long enough.”
****
Astride his horse, his posture ramrod straight, Alex looked every bit the part of the wealthy landowner he portrayed as he brought his mount to a stop in front of Willow Creek’s main house. Chase’s stomach twisted with anxiety as Brody handled the buckboard like an expert. He pulled on the reins with a quick flick of his wrists and brought the rig to a halt a few feet away from the Colonel.
Something seemed…wrong. The compound appeared strangely empty…and eerily quiet, and yet, he felt as if someone watched him. Beside him, Brody, too, glanced around at the ranch, his face a mask set in hard granite.
“Something’s not right,” Chase mumbled from the corner of his mouth.
Brody let out a long sigh. “I feel it, too. Is it possible they know?”
“Anything is possible,” Chase replied as his gaze focused on the main house. “Let’s just keep our wits about us and play it out.” He lowered his voice and tapped on the seat. “You all right back there, Ty?”
Ty knocked twice in response. Covered in a tarpaulin in the back of the buckboard, he would remain hidden until Chase gave him the signal.
Cassandra Kinsbrough came out of the house, a shotgun in her hands. The expression on her face was not welcoming. Neither was Beau’s or Roy’s as they followed her. Roy leaned against the doorjamb, the guns in his holster clearly visible, the expression on his face an unreadable mask filled with distrust and cynicism while Beau remained behind and to the left of Cassandra.
Townsend was nowhere to be seen. Was he inside the main house? Hiding somewhere else? Perhaps the tack room, waiting to make an escape through the tunnel if need be?
The urge to jump from the buckboard a
nd search out hiding places raced through him, but Chase forced himself to remain calm.
“I thought you said Townsend was on his way here,” Chase whispered, low enough so only Ty and Brody could hear him.
“He was,” Ty answered, his voice muffled by the tarpaulin over him. “I saw him ride out of town in this direction. In fact, I followed him for a bit.”
Shit! He had no choice now, but to play out the scheme, with or without Townsend present. At least, they could arrest Cassandra and her ranch hands as soon as she accepted the envelope filled with cash for the sale of the rifles. It wasn’t what he wanted, but for now, it would have to do. Chase returned his attention to the woman on the porch.
“Who are you?” Cassandra asked as she raised the shotgun and took aim at the colonel astride his horse. “What do you want?”
Stick to the plan, Colonel. Don’t let her rattle you. Chase offered silent advice as he pulled his hat lower to shade his eyes and watched from beneath the relative safety of the hat’s wide brim.
“Forgive me, dear lady,” Alex replied smoothly as he dismounted, despite the shotgun pointed at him. He kept his hands in plain sight as he approached the porch. “It was never my intention to startle you. Mrs. Kinsbrough, I presume?” At her nod, he continued, “I am Sebastian Whitworth.” He bowed from the waist. “Our mutual friend, Mr. Henry, arranged this meeting. I trust you received my letter?”
She didn’t move as she studied Alex. The shotgun didn’t move either. Chase held his breath. She could change her mind and go back in the house. She could give the order and he and his companions could be shot dead within seconds, the rifles still in her possession, Evan’s murder unavenged.
“You’re late,” she said after a long time then lowered the shotgun and rested it against the porch post as she came down the steps. Her posture remained wary and alert as her stare took in Alex then swept over the buckboard. “Where’s Henry?”
“As I explained in my letter, Mr. Henry met with an unfortunate accident just after he discussed your…ah…dilemma with me.”
She seemed to accept the explanation as she took a few steps closer to Alex. “You got the money?”
Chase released his breath. Adrenaline pumped through his body, making it difficult to keep still. His muscles tightened and his hands curled into fists so tight his fingers hurt.
“Of course.” Alex pulled the corner of an envelope from his inside coat pocket so she could see it then pushed it back into place. Her eyes gleamed with avarice and greed as they followed his every move. “Do you have the rifles? I’d like to inspect the merchandise before we complete our transaction.”
“Beau, Roy—go get the crates.”
The two men jumped off the porch and slipped under the steps. One by one, the crates appeared as the ranch hands struggled to bring them into the open area of the compound. When they were done, sweat gleaming on their faces despite the cold, six crates lay side by side. Five had U.S. Army stenciled across their tops and sides. One had nothing, but Chase noticed the wood was new and the size was a little smaller. A replacement for the broken one he’d found in the tunnel?
Beau and Roy removed the lids of the crates with crowbars, the screech of nails pulled from wood loud in the stillness of the morning. The men pushed aside the packing material so the rifles gleamed in the sunlight. Chase nearly jumped out of his skin as anticipation raced through him. Every nerve in his body tingled through his stomach remained knotted.
“Steady, Chase,” Brody whispered beside him. “Wait until she takes the money.”
Chase forced himself to stay seated and watched Colonel Barstow from beneath the brim of his hat. The colonel made a production out of inspecting each crate, counting the rifles within. Satisfied, he smiled then reached into the pocket of his coat, withdrew the envelope, and extended it toward Cassandra. She took the envelope, quickly ripped the seal and pulled out the cash, counting the crisp bills with the efficiency and enthusiasm of someone who loved money beyond anything else.
“Thank you, Mr. Whitworth.” She tucked the wad of cash down the front of her dress. “Perhaps we can do business again.”
The colonel touched the brim of his hat and smiled, a perfect gentleman. He bowed slightly from the waist then extended his hand and grabbed hers, as if to shake. “Thank you, Mrs. Kinsbrough, however, I do not believe we shall ever have that opportunity.” His grip on her hand tightened and she sucked in her breath.
“Now!” Chase jumped from his seat, grabbing the rifle beneath him and cocking it in one smooth motion. Brody followed, landing beside him, both pistols drawn from his holster.
Ty scrambled from the back of the buckboard and flashed his badge in one hand while he drew his revolver with the other. “You’re all under arrest. Hands up where I can see them.”
Startled by the sudden turn of events, Beau and Roy complied, although not without hesitation and a few well-chosen words. Ty strode up to them, grabbed their guns from their holsters and tossed them on the ground. He snapped a pair of silver handcuffs around Roy’s boney wrists and pushed him in the direction of the buckboard.
Chase kept his rifle trained on Beau, but his eyes darted to Alex. “You got her?”
“She’s not going anywhere.” Alex spun the stunned woman around and trapped both wrists in one hand though she struggled and called him every vile name within her vocabulary.
Movement caught Chase’s eye as Beau took a step back. “Uh-uh, Beau. I wouldn’t if I were you. It would give me great pleasure to shoot you where you stand.”
Beau remained in place, the expression on his ruined face one of disbelief and fury and defeat. That expression would stay with Chase for the rest of his days and give him satisfaction to no end. He didn’t try to fight when Ty made quick work of snapping a pair of handcuffs around his thick wrists and shoved him onto the rough, hard wood in the back of the buckboard beside Roy.
Chase sighed as he lowered his rifle. His plan had gone off without a hitch save one. He didn’t have the pleasure of seeing Ty’s silver cuffs around the sheriff’s wrists, but at least he had Cassandra, who struggled to free her hands from Alex’s iron grip. He approached her and pushed his hat back. “Hello, Cassie.”
She stopped thrashing about and stared at him. Recognition made her suck in her breath and her eyes narrowed with loathing and hatred. Fury made her pale cheeks glow red. “You!” she screamed and doubled her efforts to free herself from Alex’s grasp. She tried to kick him—her boot-clad foot thrusting out from beneath her skirts—but only succeeded in throwing herself off balance. She twisted her lips and spat, the discharge hitting Chase in the face. “Bastard!”
He wiped his face with the sleeve of his duster. And grinned. “Perhaps. However, I will remain a free man while you, Cassie, will spend the rest of your life behind bars for theft and murder.”
Color drained from her face. Her blue eyes and scarlet cheeks stood out in stark relief against the pure white of her skin. “I didn’t…”
“Save it for the jury.” He moved closer to her and lowered his voice just a bit as Ty joined them, another pair of handcuffs swinging from his hand. “It might go easier for you if you tell me where Townsend is.”
Fury twisted her lips and for a moment, he thought she might actually give up her accomplice, blame Townsend for theft and murder. Instead, she screamed, “For God’s sake, shoot him!”
Chase didn’t know who she screamed at. Beau and Roy were safely in the bed of the buckboard, their hands behind their backs, unable to shoot anyone. Townsend then? Someone else?
He took in his surroundings, peering into the trees beyond the outbuildings, studying the stable, bunkhouse and other buildings situated around the compound. No shots were fired. Indeed, not a sound met his ears except for Cassandra’s heavy breathing, but the door to the tack room moved ever so slightly. Townsend must have been in there. Watching. Waiting. Now, running like the coward.
“You got this?” he asked the colonel, but didn’t wait for a
n answer as he ran for the tack room.
****
“More coffee?” Emeline asked her guests as she lifted the tray containing the coffee service and headed into the kitchen.
Kathryne glanced at her father across from her, noticed his foul expression and reddened cheeks, and knew she needed to step away from him before she lost her temper. The changes she’d once believed she’d seen in her father hadn’t been true and the inquisition had begun. He no longer talked about her coming back to Washington, nor did he mention marrying Captain Collier again. No, this inquisition had to do with Chase Hunter Hartridge. And she just didn’t feel like answering questions. Why should she tell him—them—everything when they had not been so forthcoming with her?
Though she had forgiven her family for their part in deceiving her, anger and resentment still flowed through her. Indeed, she seemed to have less understanding and was more easily riled than before. She looked for hidden meanings in their words and watched their expressions to see if she could spot another lie.
Kathryne took a deep breath, excused herself, then followed Emeline into the kitchen. As soon as the door swung shut, she commented, “I don’t know how much longer I can keep my temper from exploding.”
“He means well, Kate.” Emeline finished pouring fresh coffee into the fancy silver server on the tray and put the blue speckled pot back on the stove. “He’s just worried about you.”
“Are you taking his side?” Anger and hurt made her suck in her breath as her hands balled into fists. She paced the small confines of the kitchen, her skirts swishing around her legs. “I’m not sure why I even care what he thinks—what any of you think—after the lies you all told me.”
Emeline blushed, her face taking on a pretty shade of pink. “We’ve apologized for our deception, Kate. I thought you understood and forgave us.” A long sigh escaped her and her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “And I’m not siding with him. I just think it’s time the both of you stopped arguing. Not every word that comes out of Father’s mouth is an invitation to battle.” She shook her head as she pulled the sugar canister from the shelf and opened the lid. “I’m out of sugar.” She sighed. “I’ll have to run to Graham’s for more.”
A Good Man for Katie Page 27