Wild Western Women Boxed Set

Home > Romance > Wild Western Women Boxed Set > Page 33
Wild Western Women Boxed Set Page 33

by Kirsten Osbourne


  In the morning—rather, later this morning—he’d search more until time to ride to the ranch for his afternoon appointment. And what would he do when he got there? He hoped he’d be coming back alive, accompanied by Ivan.

  The smell of fresh coffee and frying bacon awakened him. Lord, when had anything smelled so good? He crawled out of bed and stared at what remained of the broken water pitcher and bowl.

  How could he wash and shave? Well, hell. Should have thought of that last night. He’d take care of it later. Dressed, he wandered downstairs and into the dining room.

  The Widow Nehmier glared at the stubble on his face. “In this establishment the men always shave and wash before breakfast.”

  Matt wondered about any woman who referred to herself as “The Widow Nehmier” and gave a small bow before he took his seat. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, it’s been an unusual couple of days.”

  Lena Mae bustled in carrying the coffeepot. “Now, Agnes, that burglar broke everything in this poor man’s room and he doesn’t have water or a mirror.” She smiled at Matt. “I’ll see things are replaced today.”

  Beth followed with a platter heaped with food. “Mr. Petrov, perhaps you’d say Grace for us this morning.” She flashed him a triumphant smile and took her seat.

  Her request stunned Matt.

  Say Grace?

  Dang, he wasn’t sure he remembered how. But he bowed his head and mumbled what he hoped sounded like a blessing. Apparently it passed muster, because everyone said “Amen” and dug into the food without comment.

  Matt figured God must be puzzled over it, though. The Almighty hadn’t heard from Matt Petrov in a long time. Once upon a time they’d been well acquainted, but a lifetime had passed since then.

  Back in Ivan’s room, Matt resumed his search. Last night he’d made it around the walls, so he started on the floor. Using his pocketknife at each seam, he gently pried at the individual boards.

  Beth brought him a new pitcher of water and a washbowl along with a bar of soap and a towel. “We didn’t think of this last night. Mama’s looking for a mirror. You can use the one in Davey’s room until we find you a replacement.”

  She stopped and stared down at him. “What are you doing stretched out on the floor?”

  He marked his place and stood. “Checking to see if one of the floorboards is loose.”

  He expected her to bristle and make a shrewish comment. Instead, she looked interested. “Any luck?”

  With a shake of his head, he took the water from her. “A few wiggled, but none came up to reveal a hidden cache.”

  “Too bad.” She laid the towel on the washstand rail. “Maybe he had the papers with him. Or, maybe they’re somewhere else.”

  “Must be. If he’d had them with him, no one needed to search here.” He rubbed at the dust on his knees, surprised the Phifer women allowed any dirt in the place. “No, I don’t think he had them with him. He seemed too smart for that, but then I wouldn’t have expected him to dress up like a war hero and ride to the ranch either.”

  Beth watched him brush at his britches. “Oh, my. Now how did so much dirt get in here?” She looked around the room. “Look at this floor. Someone’s tracked mud.”

  He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Wasn’t me. My mama taught me to wipe my feet at the front door and you’ve got that big mat on the porch. And I noticed the sheriff’s boots were freshly shined last night.”

  Matt picked up a tiny dirt clod. “So, this must be from the person or persons who broke in here.” He rubbed the dried mud in his fingers to powder it. Dust sifted to the floor and left pieces of straw in his hand.

  Beth looked down the hall. “Why isn’t it out here?”

  Matt spotted a large clump near the washstand. “Maybe the mud had dried on the person’s boots and the spilled water from the pitcher loosened it.”

  “Then whoever did this was here long enough for it to dry again?”

  “You saw the room. It took a long time to go through all Ivan’s clothes and the furniture. Especially if only one person came.”

  He wished she didn’t look so fresh and pretty this morning. Her blue dress matched her eyes and showed off her gold hair. And she smelled like a rose garden. Made it danged hard for a man to concentrate with her close by.

  She sank onto the chair as if her legs gave way. “This is awful. I can’t stop thinking what if we’d come home before he, or they, left? Davey’s room is across the hall.”

  Beth raised her face and he thought her lips trembled. “What can we do to stop these people and help Ivan?”

  “We can talk about that tonight after supper.” Matt pulled out his pocket watch. Ten o’clock. Not much time to get things in motion. “How long you known the sheriff?”

  “Why, most of my life. Tom’s been sheriff since I was a girl. His family helped found the town. Why?”

  He wondered how to say it, how she’d react. “You positive he’s honest?”

  “Y-Yes, there’s never been even a hint of scandal linked to him. Believe me, in a boarding house you hear every bit of gossip in town”—she lowered her voice—“especially with The Widow Nehmier around. If anyone suspected him of the least thing, I’d have heard about it.”

  “Good to know.” He grabbed his razor, strop, and shaving cup. “Reckon I’ll borrow Davey’s mirror and get on with lining my ducks in a row.”

  He walked into Davey’s room, where the boy sat playing on the floor with a wooden fort and soldiers. The cat napped in a patch of sunlight on the window seat, raised her head to see who dared intrude, and went back to sleep.

  “The sheriff never did ask me questions.” Davey pushed his cannon to topple a line of soldiers.

  “Reckon he’ll get around to it.” Matt stropped his razor then soaped his shaving brush.

  Davey hopped up and watched Matt lather his face.

  “That’s like Grandpa Ivan did. Can I watch you?”

  “Seeing as how this is your room, I reckon you can watch all you want.”

  “Grandpa Ivan said he had to shave every day, but Mr. Findley doesn’t. Why do you suppose that is?”

  “It’s a mystery.” But not as much as how the hell he’d come to discuss shaving techniques with a five-year-old.

  He usually avoided even talking to anyone of school age. Being around children reminded him of the pain he’d fought hard to press down, the knowledge that he would never have his own family. Matt didn’t want to watch other families grow, see their happiness at shared events that excluded him. Not that he begrudged other folks, but it hurt too much to watch.

  Surprised, he admitted being with Davey wasn’t quite as hard as he’d thought. He’d enjoyed teaching him to fly a kite yesterday. For a moment he stopped shaving in mid stroke and wondered if that meant he might be healing inside?

  Nope, the hole in his heart remained. The part of him that mattered, the part that made him a decent person, had drained out and left an empty shell.

  Don’t get used to this set up. It’ll never be for the likes of you.

  Beth stopped in the doorway as Mama opened her vanity drawer and removed the top two handkerchiefs. She was certain from her mother’s stealthy movements that she hadn’t heard Beth enter.

  “Mama—“ Beth hurried forward when her mother took one of the embroidered linen squares and dabbed at her eyes. “Are you crying?”

  “I’m so worried about Ivan. He’s been gone too long. What if whoever broke in here has killed him?”

  “You simply can’t keep worrying yourself. Matt thinks Ivan’s still alive. Leave it to Matt and the sheriff to rescue Ivan.” Beth came closer. “What’s that?”

  Mama held the brooch for Beth to see. “Ivan gave it to me. H—He said it had belonged to his late wife and was a gift to her from the Queen of their country.”

  “It’s not your sort of jewelry at all, Mama.” Beth took it and turned it so the stones caught the light from the window. “Look at the way the brooch catches the light.
Do you suppose it’s real?”

  “Land sakes, no. Those stones may look like rubies and diamonds, but I’m sure they’re just glass. Their value is that Ivan thought enough of me to give me something he treasured, something that was his late wife’s. So I’ll treasure it too.”

  Beth handed it back. “But you won’t wear it, right? It’s so…large.”

  Mama shook her head. “Now where would I wear a gaudy thing like this?”

  Beth laughed. “We could have a ball—and invite the Governor…and the President.”

  “Now you’re being silly. But I enjoy looking at it and knowing Ivan wanted me to have it.” She dabbed at her eyes again. “I hope he’s back soon.”

  Beth hugged her shoulders and planted a kiss on her forehead. “He will be. Don’t worry, Mama.” She leaned over her mother’s shoulder. “I wonder how many stones there are?”

  Mama ran her fingers gently along the jeweled surface. “Twenty-eight of the fake diamonds and fourteen of the ruby-colored stones. That’s not counting the three large pear-shaped fake diamonds dangling from the bottom edge.”

  “It looks kind of old.” Surprised her mother had counted the jewels, Beth wondered how often her mother had looked at the piece.

  “I suppose it wasn’t new even when the Queen gave it to Ivan’s wife.”

  “Well, fake or not, it’s nice you have something that once belonged to the Queen of Bayergrovenia. Not many people can say they have something that royalty owned.” Beth patted her mother’s shoulder. “Even though it’s ugly.”

  Mama looked up at her. “I have ear bobs to match.”

  “Let’s see.”

  Moving another layer of linens, Mama produced two earrings. “They’re too long for me, of course, but I put them on once.”

  Beth took one and slipped it onto her mother’s ear, then the other. “Now look at me.” She tilted her head and peered at her mother.

  Mama turned back to stare at her image in the vanity mirror. She turned her head from side to side. “Look how they sway against my cheeks. Do they look too…you know? I don’t want to look like a soiled dove on Saturday night.”

  “Nonsense. You could wear those. They’d go nicely with your burgundy dress.”

  Her mother brightened. “Yes, they would, wouldn’t they? But I’d be afraid I’d lose them. Of course, if Ivan’s here, I might wear them for him.”

  “Mama!” Beth’s eyes widened as the realization shot through her. How had she missed it? “I should have seen it before. You’re sweet on Ivan.”

  “Now you’re talking nonsense.” But a blush sprang to Mama’s cheeks. “He’s a nice man with excellent manners, a nice change from some of the rough men around town. I enjoy his company, same as Mrs. Tabor and The Widow Nehmier do.”

  “Mmmmhmmm, but he gave you jewelry that once belonged to his late wife, didn’t he, and not the other women here?”

  Raising her chin a notch, Mama said, “You can put a stop to this sort of talk at once. We don’t know that he didn’t give trinkets to them. He might have given gifts to half the women in town.”

  Patting her mother’s shoulder, Beth said, “Papa’s been dead fifteen years. There’s no shame in thinking fondly of another man.”

  “That’s right.” Her mother’s defiant gaze met hers in the mirror. “And you’ve been here six years. There’s no harm in you thinking fondly of another man either.”

  The jab hit home. “Mama, it’s not the same thing at all.”

  “And why not, young lady?”

  “Well, I have Davey to think of and all. I—I only learned Sunday that I’m a widow.” Hugging her arms, Beth turned away. “Widowhood takes some getting used to after all this time.”

  “Hmph, it relieves my mind considerably. I feared that man would show up here sometime and we’d be stuck with him. I’d thought about what I’d do to help you if that happened.”

  “Mama?”

  “I vowed I wouldn’t let him harm you or Davey—not even if I had to feed him rat poison. That’s what he deserved. I don’t know if I’d have been able to carry out my threat if pushed to it, but I know I’d do something to protect you two.”

  “Mama, you look so fierce, but I know how you feel. I would have run away before I’d have let Lionel near Davey. I’m sorry he’s dead, but not that I’ll never have to see him again.” Even saying the man’s name was difficult. How had she ever been fooled into marrying him?

  “So, we’re both free to do as we please.”

  In the mirror, Beth’s eyes met Mama’s again. “Are we?”

  Her mother stood and turned, pulling Beth into her embrace. “Yes, dear. We are. As long as we don’t do anything to put Davey in danger, we can do as we like.”

  As she returned her mother’s hug, Beth knew they had too many responsibilities weighing them down to do anything but what they’d been doing. She had Davey and Mama to look out for. And the demands of the boarding house consumed their lives. What was to become of the three of them?

  Matt located the sheriff making his rounds of the town. “I’ll be riding out to that ranch after a meal, what the ladies call dejeuner. I wonder if you’d like to bring a spyglass and come part way with me. You could hide yourself up the hill from the ranch?”

  “Why?” The sheriff leaned forward, his gaze intent. “You figure they’ll hold you there?”

  Matt shook his head. “No. Matter of fact, probably nothing will come of it. I plan to ask for a tour of the place and lay on the Bayergrovenia national pride thick. If you watch what goes on and where they won’t let me go, maybe you’ll get a clue where they have Ivan.”

  “You’re sure he’s out there?” Sheriff Carpenter looked skeptical. “I checked with the county clerk this morning and the little fellow never showed him a deed.”

  “If Ivan’s still alive, I think he’s on that ranch as a prisoner.” He faced the sheriff. “Look, sheriff, all I have to go on is what Ivan showed me and told me in Austin and the fact he and my grandfather are kin.”

  “He’s kin? Well, who’d have thought it? You’re big as an oak and he’s just a little branch of a fellow. So what’s your plan when you get inside the ranch?”

  Matt shrugged. “You play poker?”

  The sheriff grinned. “Long as my wife don’t find out.”

  “Then you understand my plan. Bluff and hope for good luck. All I’ve got unless you have a suggestion.”

  “I’ve got a good spyglass I took off’n a man tried robbing the bank last year.” The sheriff stroked his chin and thought a bit. “Reckon I could set myself up in the shade and watch the proceedings.”

  Matt clapped him on the back. “Sheriff, you’ve got a deal. See you at the edge of town about one, just over the first hill.”

  “Reckon you ought to call me Tom since we’ll be in this together. I’ll come by the boarding house and ride out with you.”

  “No, please don’t.” When the sheriff frowned at Matt’s issuing orders, Matt explained, “There’s someone in town reporting to those boys. If you don’t mind following my suggestion, ride out the opposite end of town about a quarter of one and then circle around and meet me just after the road crosses that wide creek the other side of the hill.”

  “Good enough.” The sheriff frowned. “Damn, now who in my town would spy for that bunch?”

  “Someone knew Mrs. Phifer bought a safe, knew which room belonged to Ivan, knew when the house would be empty. Too much for chance, Tom.”

  “You’re sure as hell right. Thought of that last night. Worrying about it kept me up half the night, but I can’t think who’d turn traitor. Known most of these folks for years, some of them all their lives.”

  “Then you’ll probably be able to figure it out before I will.” Matt turned and went back to the boarding house for some grub. He hoped it wasn’t the last meal of a condemned man.

  Chapter Four

  Beth worried all through her morning chores. Not that she cared about Matt Petrov, no more than she’d
care about any person exposed to danger. And she’d yet to have a chance to learn more about Lionel’s death. To think, for years she’d been free and hadn’t known it.

  Free.

  “Elizabeth, careful with my tea.” The Widow Nehmier did not tolerate poor service.

  Beth set the tray down on the parlor table between Mrs. Tabor and The Widow Nehmier. “Sorry, I must have been woolgathering.”

  Just as she suspected, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself, having Matt under the same roof meant trouble one way or another. As far as she knew, he hadn’t had a drop of liquor since he’d come to town. He was, well, he was kind to her mother and son and, darn it, he made her feel things she’d forgotten.

  He talked to Davey as if her son meant something to him, which made no sense but pleased her. All the same, she didn’t want Davey looking up to a man like Matt Petrov. Bad enough Davey had latched onto Ivan, and now who knew if they’d ever see that poor man again?

  That she hadn’t seen Matt drunk or smelled liquor on his breath since he’d been in town didn’t mean anything. How many times had Papa straightened out only to fall off the wagon with a jolt? Too many to count, and she wanted no part of a man like that. Not for her son or for herself.

  “Is your young man going to look for that foreign fellow this afternoon?”

  “He’s hardly my anything, Widow Nehmier. But if you mean Mr. Petrov, then, yes, I believe he’s paying a call on the ranch Ivan said is rightfully his.” The place where he thought Ivan was held prisoner and where who knew what would happen to Matt? A shiver slid down her spine at the prospect.

  Widow Nehmier stirred her tea. “I hope nothing bad has happened to the little foreign man. I rather liked his fine manners.”

  My, my, imagine that? Even haughty Agnes Nehmier had fallen under Ivan’s spell.

  Hetty Tabor lowered her own teacup. “Quite a world traveler, that Ivan. I hadn’t known how much I admired him and enjoyed his stories until he disappeared.”

  “Yes, me too.” Beth realized that in a few short weeks, Ivan had become almost a part of her family. Davey looked up to him and listened to his stories with rapt attention. Mama preened and blushed like a schoolgirl under his courtly ways and flattery.

 

‹ Prev