Ridge looked up into cold gray eyes that were fixed on him like a snake watching a rabbit. “Mister, I don’t mean you any harm.”
A dry chuckle issued from the man’s throat, sounding like the crunch of dead leaves. “Not while I’m holding this, you don’t.”
Ridge sighed and tried to remember a time when he wasn’t running from or to something. But he couldn’t. There’d been too many times like this one, he thought. Staring down into the barrel of a gun and hoping to hell he’d get out of the situation one more time.
“I know who you are, boy.”
That got his attention. “Mister, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
The man pulled the edge of his coat back to display a shining silver star pinned to his shirt and Ridge cursed himself for having the worst luck in the world. What were the chances that he’d stumble onto a campfire only to find out his host was a lawman?
“You’re Ridge Hawkins,” the man said and a flutter of shock whipped through him. Briefly, he considered whether he stood a chance of escaping. But his horse was near dead and he was so damn tired himself that he just plain didn’t have the gumption to try it.
So while the old man talked, Ridge figured he might as well eat. If he was going to die sometime soon, he’d rather not do it on an empty stomach. And even if he didn’t get shot sometime in the next few minutes, it would be a long, hungry ride to whatever jail the man had in mind for him. Scooping a forkful of beans into his mouth, he barely chewed them before swallowing and taking another.
“You rode some with Billy Bonney, isn’t that right?”
He swallowed hard and took a sip of coffee. Getting himself caught was one thing. Turning his friends over was something else again. Finally, he admitted only, “I’ve seen him a time or two.”
“Uh-huh,” the old man said with a slow smile. “You saw him down in Santa Fe a few months back, isn’t that right?”
Ridge didn’t say a word. Hell, he didn’t have to.
The old man knew just what he was talking about and he knew it. “You was in a cantina with the Kid when he pulled a gun on a marshal.”
“Yeah?”
“And you talked Billy out of shooting that man, didn’t you, son?”
He sure as hell had. Billy’d been on a tear, and if Ridge hadn’t stopped him he might have shot up the whole bar. “Seemed like the thing to do.”
“Some in your place wouldn’t have bothered,” the old man said, his gaze still fixed on Ridge.
“I don’t hold with murder,” Ridge said bluntly and set his plate down. Refilling his coffee cup, he shrugged and said, “Defending myself is one thing. Killing a man for the hell of it is another.”
The old man smiled and nodded to himself as if pleased with Ridge’s answer. Then he lowered his weapon. “Boy, you’ve been running with the wrong bunch, but it ain’t too late for you. Yet. I done some checking on you and the most you’ve got standing against you is a couple of robberies and some missing cattle. But son, you keep riding with them that kill for sport and sooner or later you’ll be doing a fast dance at the end of a short rope.”
Talk of hangings was never a pleasant thing. Especially not since he’d been giving the very real possibility of his death some serious thought lately.
“Gunfighting’s all I know,” he said and eased back against a fallen log.
“Then learn something else,” the sheriff told him flatly. “That man you saved in Santa Fe was a friend of mine. You did him a favor and we’ve been wantin’ to return it.”
“Yeah?” he asked, suspicious. “How you gonna do that?”
“You keep clear of trouble from here on out and maybe we can get you a pardon.”
And with those words, everything had changed.
The old man had been as good as his word, Ridge thought as he let go of the memories and focused once more on the town he’d made his home. With his record wiped clean, he’d been free to start over. And not many men got a chance like that handed to them.
For years now, Ridge had clung to the letter of the law, holding it as tight as Elias held his Bible. And not once in all that time had he been tempted to set what he knew to be right aside. Until today.
He shifted his gaze to the paper in his hand. The law’s the law, he told himself. And according to the law, he had to arrest Mrs. Sophie Ryan—or Dolan—er, whoever the hell she was, and then contact the Pinkertons.
So why wasn’t he already on his way down to the boardinghouse? Because he wanted some answers first, that was why.
If she wasn’t who she said she was, then who exactly was she? Remembering the night before and that long, sweet kiss and her eager, but clumsy response, he wondered if that had been an act too.
“Hell,” he muttered thickly, staring down at her portrait, “for all I know she’s a whore, putting on a show.”
But even as those words left him, he knew it wasn’t so. No whore he’d ever known would have been able to play a stiffly starched lady as well as Sophie did. But instead of answering any of his questions, that admission only deepened the mystery. Why would a lady become a kidnapper? And who the hell wanted her badly enough to issue a wanted poster? And just whose child was Jenna?
That cold, hard knot in his gut tightened even further and Ridge calmly, deliberately, folded the piece of paper into a small, neat square. Then he stuffed it into his pants pocket. Couldn’t risk leaving it in the desk where Tall might stumble across it.
Until he had some answers, he’d keep this piece of news to himself.
●
Sophie gathered up her skirts and carefully waded into the icy waters of the creek. The flat, rounded stones on the bottom were slippery and she waved her free arm wildly in an attempt at retaining her balance.
“Hattie was right,” she said softly as a breeze rippled along the surface of the water and shook the leaves of the short, squat trees hugging the bank.
The older woman had advised her to take some time to herself. To put a bit of distance between herself and Ridge. So instead of supervising the work on the schoolhouse, she’d taken the children for a picnic. And she didn’t doubt that the men working today were pleased at her absence.
But with the warm sun beating down on her and the cold water rushing against her bare calves, Sophie had to admit she’d needed this. Time to breathe. Time to let go of worry for just a little while. To remember one of the reasons she’d come to this tiny Nevada town.
Sophie’d been so busy trying to get the school up and running so she could prove her worth to the town that she’d nearly forgotten all about Jenna. And wasn’t wanting to give her little sister a normal, happy life the most important reason of all?
“You ain’t like our last teacher none,” Travis said suddenly and Sophie shot him a quick look.
“You aren’t like our last teacher,” she corrected with a smile.
The boy grinned, tossed his hair back out of his eyes and shrugged. “Well, I reckon some things is the same. But Mr. Avery, he never woulda come down to the creek with us, would he, Luke?”
The other boy shook his head. “He was all the time tellin’ us to read books and such.”
“Reading’s important,” Sophie told him in defense of the absent teacher. “But so are other things.”
“Mama, look!” Jenna squealed, “A baby bird!”
Travis and Luke hurried to the girl’s side, but it took Sophie a few extra minutes. Hurrying barefoot on slippery rocks wasn’t an easy task. “Don’t touch it,” she called as she saw the boys squat down on the creekbank.
Travis snorted and shook his head. “It can’t hurt us any.”
“I’m more concerned with you hurting it,” she said.
“We wouldn’t do nothin’. It’s just a baby.”
“I know you wouldn’t intentionally hurt it,” Sophie told him as she final
ly came alongside the trio of children. “But if you touch it, its mother will smell you on her baby and be frightened away.”
Luke nodded. “My pa says the same thing. Says wild animals can smell people a mile off and they stay clear of us if they can.”
“Quite true,” Sophie said, giving the boy a smile.
He grinned back as though he’d received a grade of 100 on a spelling test.
“It’s hurt, Mama,” Jenna said softly as she watched the tiny bird wobble and flop on the ground.
“I don’t think so, honey,” Sophie said, bending down for a closer look. In the sparse grass, the poor little thing chirped weakly and fluttered its too-small wings futilely. “I think it’s just trying to fly and it’s too little to accomplish it.”
“There’s the nest,” Travis hooted, pointing up at a branch some six feet off the ground.
Sophie looked to where he pointed and with some difficulty finally saw the tiny circle of twigs nestled into a small fork in the limb of the tree. Shifting her gaze to the boy beside her, she said, “Excellent, Travis. You have quite an eye for detail.”
“It ain’t nothin’,” he said with a shrug, but his pleased grin belied his words.
In the dappled shade of the tree, the three children looked up at Sophie and she recognized the identical expressions each of them wore. They were waiting for the adult to fix the situation. They fully expected that she would find a way to handle this problem and, she told herself firmly, she wouldn’t disappoint them.
“We have to get it back into its nest,” she murmured thoughtfully.
“How we gonna do that if we can’t touch it?” Travis asked.
“An excellent question,” she said softly, her gaze sliding from the children to the surrounding area. She noted the rushing creek, the tufts of grass sprouting from the lip of the water, and the low-hanging branches clipping down nearly to the creek’s edge, creating a lovely, shaded canopy.
Leaves rustled in a soft wind that lifted a few stray curls from the back of her neck. And as she listened to the soft, papery sounds of the leaves moving against each other, Sophie had an idea.
Stepping out of the cold water, she climbed up onto the bank, walked a few feet and grabbed one of the lower-hanging tree branches.
“What’cha doin’?” Luke asked.
“Well,” Sophie muttered as she quickly stripped a few wide leaves from the limb, “I suppose I’m trying to make a leaf glove.”
“Huh?” Travis said.
“Which of you is the better climber?” she asked abruptly, moving back to stand near the kids.
“Me,” both boys said at once.
Smiling, she shook her head and said, “Truth now. This is important.”
“Soph—Mama,” Jenna interrupted, pulling at her skirt. “We hafta hurry, the mama bird’s comin’.”
Luke laughed at the girl’s worried tone. “How in the heck do you know that?”
But Travis wasn’t laughing. He looked at Jenna, then back to Sophie. “Luke’s a better climber, but I’m taller. I can reach higher and longer.”
“Hmm.” She looked from Travis to Jenna and back again. A small curl of worry unwound inside her. She had the distinct feeling that the boy believed Jenna knew about the mother bird. And later, she’d find time to worry about the fact that a little boy seemed to know their secret.
But for now: “Very well,” she said, making a sort of small, delicate shovel with the leaves in her hand. Bending down, she scooped the tiny bird up and cupped it tenderly in the palms of her hands. Carefully, she held the little animal out to Luke, and once he had it, she turned to Travis.
“Come with me,” she said and laid one hand on his shoulder. Steering him toward the tree, she talked as she walked. “This is what we’re going to do: I’ll bend down and you’ll get up on my shoulders.”
“Your shoulders!” he echoed. “Why don’t I just climb the tree?”
“The mother’s coming. We don’t have time.”
He looked directly into her eyes and nodded solemnly.
Nodding, she continued. “Now, when you’re in position, Luke will hand the bird to me and I will hand it up to you. Understood?”
“Yes’m,” he said.
Luke nodded.
“Mama, hurry,” Jenna said and turned her gaze skyward.
“Travis,” Sophie said, and went down on one knee. The boy clambered up and took a seat on her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around his legs and slowly, carefully, stood up. She staggered slightly and Travis slid to one side, grabbing hold of her hair as he shifted. Pins came loose and she was nearly blinded by a curtain of red curls before she righted herself and the boy again.
“All right?” she asked.
“All set,” he answered.
Moving closer to the tree, she asked, “Can you reach the nest?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
“Luke,” she called and the boy moved to stand directly in front of her. “Careful now,” she warned as she let go of Travis’s legs long enough to take the leaves and bird from the boy. “Travis, move slowly now or we’ll topple over,” she said, then lifted the makeshift nest high enough tor the other boy to take it.
“Yes’m,” he assured her and gently reached for the baby bird.
“Hurry, Travis,” Jenna whispered.
“Closer, Miss Sophie,” the boy said and she dutifully inched nearer to the tree. “Easy now...” Travis’s voice was no more than a whisper.
Sophie blew hair out of her eyes and winced at the steady pressure of a husky seven-year-old’s weight on her shoulders. And just when she thought her knees might give out, she heard the boy say, “Finished. You can set me down now.”
Keeping one hand on the tree trunk for balance, she slowly lowered herself to one knee and almost whimpered in pleasure when Travis slid off to stand beside her.
“She’s comin’,” Jenna said and hopped from foot to foot in excitement.
“Come on then,” Sophie told them all and herded them to a safe distance from the tree. At the creek bank, they sat down and watched as the mother bird landed on the tree limb and hopped toward her waiting baby who cheeped and chirped excitedly.
Anxious seconds ticked past as they watched, hoping. Then the mother bird jumped into the nest to feed her baby and the three children grinned up at Sophie.
“We did it,” Travis said quietly.
“Yes, we did,” Sophie answered, letting her gaze drift across each of their faces. They were all so busy congratulating themselves that not a one of them noticed a solitary man step out of the shadows from where he’d been watching and walk toward them.
“What’s all this?” a deep, familiar voice asked, and Sophie whipped around to look at Ridge Hawkins as he strolled toward them.
Her mouth went dry as her gaze swept over him.
The black shirt he wore seemed to cling to his broad shoulders and the easy stride he affected didn’t fool her in the slightest. There wasn’t a casual bone in that man’s body. His square jaw was tight and his chiseled features looked today as if they’d been hacked out of marble.
She met his gaze briefly, then looked away again. Perhaps it was cowardly, but she preferred to think of it as prudent. After all, there was no point in dwelling on what had happened between them the night before. She’d already told him she intended to pretend it had never happened. And she fervently hoped she’d be able to do just that. Soon.
Despite how much she would prefer differently, there would be no more stolen kisses. There would be nothing between them at all. That was simply how it had to be.
“Been swimming?” he asked and she looked up to find him staring at her bare legs.
“Certainly not.” Instantly, she dropped her skirt and curled her toes into the dirt in embarrassment. Then the wind blew her hair in front of her face and sh
e sighed inwardly. Wouldn’t you just know she would look frightful the first time she ran into him?
Still, she reminded herself, it hardly mattered what he thought of her, did it?
“We saved a bird,” Luke told him proudly.
“Did you now?” he asked, his gaze never leaving Sophie’s face.
“It was the teacher’s idea,” Travis said. “She figured a way to do it so’s the mama wouldn’t get scared off.”
“She’s real clever all right,” Ridge said quietly.
Sophie shifted slightly under his steady regard and wondered just what exactly he’d meant by that.
“Heckfire,” Luke said, “that ol’ Mr. Avery never woulda done all that to save some bird.”
“Mama’s smart,” Jenna said, “isn’t she, Daddy?”
Luke snorted a laugh.
Travis watched Ridge thoughtfully.
Sophie groaned and rolled her eyes. For heaven’s sake. She’d finally convinced the child to call her “mama.” Why couldn’t she manage to keep her from calling the sheriff “Daddy”?
Grabbing Jenna’s hand, she passed within an inch of the man and marched toward the bank, calling, “Come along children. I think we’ll go eat our lunch. And afterward, you can write a paper for me all about what happened today.”
“Oh, shucks,” Luke muttered and kicked his bare foot against a tree root.
“There ain’t no school yet,” Travis whined.
She paused briefly to bend down and scoop up her and Jenna’s shoes and stockings, then holding her chin high, Sophie kept walking. “School isn’t always to be found in a building. It’s wherever you’re learning something.”
●
And if that was so, Ridge thought, he was in school right now.
He’d stood back and watched her with the kids.
Seen how easy she was with them. Seen how they responded to her and told himself that a kidnapper wouldn’t waste her time playing with children.
He’d looked his fill of her long, bare legs as she waded in the creek and felt the swift, hard punch of desire rock him on his heels. He wasn’t sure if it was his body telling him she was innocent or his mind. But he had to find out the truth and he damn well knew it.
Just West of Heaven Page 14