“What can I do to help?” Luke asked.
“I appreciate the offer, Luke, but you almost lost your life,” Jared reminded. “You’re in no condition to get out of bed, much less risk your health by helping me right now.”
“I’ve been lying here for two days, and I’m already going out of my mind,” Luke said in frustration.
Jared grinned, empathizing with his brother’s frustration. Luke was much like himself. Neither of them ever enjoyed confinement.
For the next half hour, Jared discussed the details of his plans with Luke. Luke yawned, his eyes drooping. Jared left the room to allow him to rest. He walked downstairs where Taryn talked with Etta. In order to prevent Ramirez from finding Rhodes, he needed more help aside from Andrew Donahue. Entering the parlor where the two women sat, he noticed Etta ramble on.
The chattering halted when Etta saw him enter the room. “Are you done visiting with Luke so soon?” she asked, enjoying their conversation.
“I’ve been upstairs for the last hour and a half,” Jared commented.
“The time has passed in a blink,” she said, her surprise evident.
Taryn stood. “I’ll get my cloak,” she said, moving toward the outer hallway.
Jared approached Etta with a sudden idea. “I wondered if I might ask a favor of you.”
“Of course.”
Jared smiled, grateful for her eagerness to help. “You may want to consider what I have in mind before accepting,” he cautioned. “My request has to do with your ability to talk.” He told her in more detail what favor he needed.
“I’d be happy to help you,” Etta said when he finished. “I’m glad my affinity for chatter has become an asset.”
Etta and Jared were still sharing a laugh when she returned with her cloak. In their carriage, Taryn adjusted her body to face Jared. A smile still lingered on his face, peaking her curiosity. “What were you and Etta laughing about?”
“Her ability to chatter.”
“What?”
Jared kissed her on her cheek then laughed. “Etta’s agreed to help with my plans.”
“Have you considered what you’ll do if you can’t prevent Miguel Ramirez and Marcus from meeting?” Taryn asked.
“I’ve considered it.”
“And?” she prompted.
“I haven’t decided what to do yet,” he admitted. “Even if I free myself of Ramirez’s pursuit, there’s still the marshal. I need to be free of them both.”
Taryn returned a pensive nod. How? The question wouldn’t leave her, and she found no ready answer.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Miguel Ramirez scratched the growth of beard at his chin as he rode into Sacramento. He promised himself King would not outsmart him again. Entering the town, Miguel headed for the marshal’s office.
He’d tracked King through Texas, up through the northern states, and into Omaha missing him at each turn. He was confident he’d caught him in Omaha near the train station. The local sheriff there assured Miguel he’d seen the man he sought. The fool told him he’d been mistaken in his assurance. The man he suspected of being King wasn’t him at all, but a man traveling west with his young wife and children.
Miguel assumed King outmaneuvered the sheriff. Frustrated at having been so close to his prey, Miguel hadn’t known which way to head. Would King have gotten on the train headed west or go in another direction? Most other bounty hunters would have given up the search, the frustration becoming too much, but Miguel never gave up. His own frustration drove him harder.
Receiving a message from a Marshal Marcus Rhodes promising King could be found in Sacramento was a stroke of luck. Now Miguel had arrived in Sacramento. His prey was so near, he was eager to complete his goal of capture.
Miguel walked into the marshal’s office glancing around the vacant confines. A man walked out of a back room. “Marshal Rhodes?” Miguel inquired. The man glanced up from the papers in his hands at the sound of another’s voice.
“No, I’m Andrew Donahue, the sheriff,” he corrected. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“My name’s Miguel Ramirez. Marshal Rhodes has sent for me in connection to a man I’m searching for,” he explained.
“Yes, of course,” Andrew said.
“Is the marshal here?” Miguel Ramirez questioned the sheriff.
“No, he’s stepped out,” Andrew responded.
“When will he be back?” Miguel asked.
“Hard to say,” Andrew replied, scratching his head. “The marshal’s out by the Finster place. With Mavis Finster, you never know how long you might be delayed. You see, the Finsters have this herd of cattle,” Andrew explained, leaning against the desk. “A sorry lot by most standards. They do have a nice bit of land though, good grazing grass.”
Miguel couldn’t fathom how the sheriff believed he was interested in his jabbering.
“…that’s where the sheepherders come in,” Andrew continued.
Miguel took a heavy breath, regarding the sheriff with barely concealed tolerance.
“Their sheep keep crossing over onto the Finster land and ruining the grazing grass with their hooves. The grass becomes useless for the Finster’s herd to eat.”
“A shame,” Miguel said, hurrying the sheriff on with his reply.
“Don’t worry,” Andrew assured him. “Most of the Finster’s herd doesn’t need much fattening up. The Finster’s butcher one of their herds when they have run out of beef for their table. Mavis Finster says she couldn’t face the rest of the herd knowing she sent one of their members to market more often. The Finsters are a little peculiar.”
Miguel clenched his fists. They weren’t the only ones. The sheriff could join them. He didn’t give a damn about the cattle. He’d come to see the marshal.
“You might return later this afternoon,” Andrew said in answer to the man’s question. He acted as though the conversation never strayed from the point. “You’re welcome to wait however, if you prefer,” he offered.
“I’d rather not,” Miguel said, shaking his head, adamant in his conviction. “If you could tell me where I can find Jared King. He is who I intend to speak to the marshal about.”
“Jared King,” Andrew said in recognition. “He’s someone you’ll have to talk to the marshal about. He’s the only one who knows anything about him. I can give you directions to the Finster ranch. You can discuss your business there.” Andrew jotted down some directions as he spoke. “You might find the Finster ranch difficult to find, some do,” Andrew informed Miguel. “I know the first few times I went out there, I got lost. Felt like an idiot,” Andrew confided.
“I’ll find it,” Miguel bit off, considering how apt the sheriff’s description of himself fit. Miguel never met anyone so dull-witted as Sheriff Andrew Donahue. The marshal better be more alert than his addlepated sheriff.
****
Following the bounty hunter’s departure, Andrew exited the office through the back door, proceeding to the Grand Marquis Hotel.
“He’s here,” Andrew announced when Jared opened the door of his suite.
Jared waved Andrew inside.
Taryn joined the two men in the living room, her heart in her throat. This is what they’d been waiting for, and dreading.
Jared felt relieved and filled with a familiar tension knowing Ramirez was so close. Anything could go wrong. “You sent him to Etta’s as we discussed?”
Andrew nodded. Ramirez accepted Marcus would be the source with information about you. He’s not interested in wasting time,” he observed.
“Etta will give us the time we need right now,” Jared assured him. “By the time Ramirez gets back to town, Jonathan will be in place to act as the marshal. Where’s Rhodes now?” he asked, his thoughts tumbling one on top of the other.
“Fate is on your side. Marcus went to the barber’s minutes before Ramirez came to the office,” Andrew said.
“Good,” Jared sighed. “All we need now is to keep Rhodes occupied for
the day, and Ramirez to believe Jonathan when he tells him I’ve left town.” Jared’s focus hardened in concentration, his gaze fixed on Andrew. “You know what to do next?”
Andrew nodded, heading for the door. “I’ll send word to you as soon as everything’s clear.”
****
A hard rap on the door brought Etta to the foyer of her home. Opening the door to the visitor, she gave the stranger an inquiring glance. “May I help you with something?”
“Mrs. Finster, my name is Miguel Ramirez. Sheriff Andrew Donahue told me I could find Marshal Rhodes here. I wonder if I might speak with him?” he requested remembering something of his manners in front of the lady.
“Mrs. Finster?” Etta repeated with a confused gaze.
Miguel expected entry into the home and further escorted to the marshal. He even took a step forward in anticipation of her allowing him in. He paused. Perhaps she hadn’t captured the full content of his request or her hearing was not intact. “You are Mrs. Finster, aren’t you?” he asked, raising his voice.
“There’s nothing wrong with my hearing, young man,” she stated, adjusting her glasses on her nose. “No, I am not Mrs. Finster. My name is Etta Briggs. The Finster ranch is east of here.”
Miguel inhaled a steadying breath to control his frustration. He couldn’t understand it. He’d followed the sheriff’s directions without confusion. He couldn’t be at the wrong place.
“Don’t chide yourself, Mr. Ramirez, you’re not the first to mistake my home for the Finster place. The roads out this way are poorly marked. Do come in. I’ll direct you from here.” Etta showed him to the parlor, retrieving a piece of paper on which to write. She proceeded to sketch a small map for him then made certain he could follow it. “Would you care for some lemonade, Mr. Ramirez?”
“No, ma’am,” Miguel declined, wondering at his politeness toward the woman when he steamed within. The woman reminded him of his mother. “It’s imperative that I speak to the marshal.” He started for the entrance, but she detained him before he took two steps.
“One glass won’t detain you,” Etta said, ignoring his words, calling for someone named Benita to bring a pitcher with two glasses. “I planned to have some myself when you arrived. Besides, after riding all this long way from town, you must be thirsty.”
Miguel wanted to refuse. He should have no compunction about doing so. Etta Briggs gave him the oddest feeling if he did refuse it would be as bad as insulting his own mother. One glass would take a moment’s time to consume, and he was thirsty. He sat in the proffered chair.
Four glasses of lemonade, three pastries, and two hours later, Miguel walked out of the woman’s home hoping he could still get to the actual Finster place before dusk. How did he allow the woman to delay him for two hours? He mounted his horse discovering himself waving good-bye to the woman who stood returning his wave in the doorway. He jerked his arm down the moment she closed the door.
Miguel glanced about him checking to see if his compadres weren’t standing nearby hooting with laughter. The unrelenting bounty hunter waving good-bye to granny. He glanced at the piece of paper with the directions to the Finsters’, crumpling it in his hand. With a growl, he spurred the horse forward, furious with the fact he played these games and wasted his time.
****
Marcus returned to his office thirty minutes after leaving it. “Anything happening here?” he asked Andrew.
“Ben Masters sent someone in to ask you to go out to their ranch. There’s some dispute,” Andrew commented.
“There’s always some dispute,” Marcus fumed. “Why didn’t you go?”
“I offered,” Andrew said easily, “but they insisted on you.”
“All right,” Marcus uttered. “I’ll be back before dusk. It’s not how I planned to spend the remainder of the day,” he said in irritation, leaving the office.
“But it’s how we want you to spend the day,” Andrew returned when the door closed behind Marcus. Andrew released his breath in a nervous sigh. As soon as Marcus left town, Jonathan would come into the office and assume his role for the bounty hunter.
Marcus took the west road out of town but reined in his horse once out of view from anyone who might be watching his departure. Marcus longed for this type of opportunity. King was aware of Miguel Ramirez’s impending arrival. Marcus couldn’t be sure if he himself would know of the bounty hunter’s arrival before King.
It was obvious Ramirez arrived, and King was the first to know. A shame his plan to escape the bounty hunter wouldn’t work. Marcus stayed one step ahead of King this time. A dispute at Ben Masters’ ranch. Andrew had been very convincing. Too bad it backfired on him. What Andrew didn’t know was Ben Masters had been at the barber’s. Ben didn’t mention a thing. Marcus already made arrangements that couldn’t fail.
Marcus circled around, heading back to town, taking lesser traveled roads until he came to the back entrance of Rose’s Saloon where he entered undetected. He left a message with the proprietor informing the man he expected someone to join him. Climbing the stairs to the upper floor, Marcus entered a room where he waited. Three hours later, Marcus answered the knock on the door of the room.
“Marshal Rhodes?”
“Mr. Ramirez, do come in,” Marcus said, gesturing for the man to enter.
“I hope you’re ready to deliver on your promises, Marshal,” Miguel said. “Because I’m tired of being led on a chase with no end.”
“I understand,” Marcus commiserated, “but it was necessary so King wouldn’t become suspicious. As I told you in the subsequent telegrams I sent to you confirming this meeting, extreme caution is paramount if we’re to succeed in our mutual goals.”
“Let’s conclude this,” Miguel demanded. “Where’s King?”
“I would imagine he’s at one of two places,” Marcus said. “Either at the hotel where he’s residing or at his wife’s relatives. Now,” he said in a voice dripping with glee at the prospect of handing King over to this bounty hunter. “Wait in my office. I’ll go check the hotel. If he’s there, you’ll have him in your custody within the next ten minutes.”
****
“Shouldn’t we have heard something by now?” Taryn asked Jared, biting her lip as they waited in their suite for word from Andrew. The inactivity drove her insane. Hours had passed.
“Maybe not,” he replied, his gaze still focused on the street below from the place he stood by the window.
She and Jared were both wound up, jumping at the slightest sound to the point where neither wanted to move at all for fear of startling the other.
“Jared, let me go find out from Andrew what’s happening,” she said, moving to his side.
“We can’t risk it, Taryn. If Ramirez happened to see you back in Omaha and recognizes you here in town, he’ll know something’s going on. We don’t know what the sheriff in Omaha told him.”
“But he may not have seen me then,” she suggested. “His concentration right now is on you. He won’t be paying attention to anyone else. I’ll keep hidden by going around to the back entrance of the marshal’s office.”
Jared debated having her take the chance. In order to go undetected by Ramirez, he could do nothing more than wait for the results of his plan. “All right,” he agreed in frustration, but be quick about it. “Go there, find out, and come back.”
Taryn rushed out of the hotel and down the staircase, slowing her pace as she walked through the hotel lobby. She walked out onto the verandah of the hotel, running down the steps and across the street. Darting in and out between buildings, she made her way to the marshal’s office. She glanced down the street to see if anyone noticed her flight. She froze at the sight of who walked toward the hotel. The marshal. He was supposed to be out at the Masters’ ranch. She didn’t know what to do. Should she run back to the hotel hoping to get by the marshal to warn Jared or continue onto the marshal’s office to inform Andrew and Uncle Jonathan? Closer to the marshal’s office by half, she made her choice. S
he could reach the office faster if she ran down the main street walkway.
She took the chance. Picking up her skirts, she ran the length of the walkway, moving out onto the street when two ladies paused in conversation, blocking her path. She chanced another glance over her shoulder for the marshal and proceeded to run into someone. Jarred by the impact, Taryn stumbled back. “I’m sorry,” she said, fighting for breath. She stared into the face of the man she’d hit. She didn’t recognize him as anyone she knew. A strange foreboding rippled through her. “I’m sorry, Mr…”
“Ramirez,” Miguel supplied. “Are you all right, miss,” he said, steadying the girl as she appeared faint.
“I’m fine,” she said, her voice shaking. She stood in front of the bounty hunter whose intent was the marshal’s office. They stood in front of the building. The marshal had been walking toward the hotel. It could only mean one thing. The marshal went to pick Jared up to take him to his office where he would hand him over to Miguel Ramirez.
“Maybe you should sit,” Miguel suggested.
“No, I’m fine,” Taryn repeated, jerking away, and racing around the side of the building next to the marshal’s office. She couldn’t have the bounty hunter know she headed for the same building as he. He would be at the office before her, but she needed to warn Andrew that something had gone horribly wrong. One small advantage—Miguel Ramirez did not recognize her. She reached the back of the marshal’s office, pounding on the door.
A few agonizing moments later, Andrew unlocked the door. Surprise etched his brow to see Taryn rush in. She pulled him into the far corner of the back room, her gaze darting toward the entrance to the front room.
“Taryn, what are you doing?” Andrew whispered. “Ramirez is out front right now.”
“I know,” she whispered back. “The marshal is at the hotel.”
“What?” Andrew said in incredulity.
“Andrew, I think they both know,” Taryn almost cried. “I think the marshal went to pick Jared up to bring him here for Miguel Ramirez to take to Mexico. You’ve got to go back out front. Think of a ruse to get Uncle Jonathan back here alone. We have to do something.” She broke her promise to Jared, but it was an emergency. He’d want her to use her best judgment.
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