In a Cowboy’s Arms

by Janette Kenny

  But on three occasions they’d taken their journey a step further by taking the southern route out of Pueblo instead of the western one that wound toward Burland. That’s how they found Placid. That’s where they’d had a taste of true freedom.

  If Maggie had known what Nowell had in store for her then, she would’ve boarded a train and disappeared. She wouldn’t have returned to Burland. But she hadn’t any inkling of his plans.

  Just like she hadn’t had any idea that Daisy Logan had a brother. That he was here in Placid waiting for his sister to return. Now that the truth was out, escaping him might be more difficult than eluding the bounty hunter Nowell had hired.

  Maggie could change her name again, but she couldn’t change her appearance that much. She had no idea how many people the bounty hunter had questioned about her, but she knew staying in Colorado was far too dangerous now.

  But unless Doc could secure a safe place for her in St. Louis, she’d be afraid to stay in any town too long. She could end up being on the run for the rest of her life.

  She left the quiet of her room and hurried down the steps, wishing that she was once again that little orphan that nobody wanted. She could be herself then. She could do what she wanted to do.

  If she didn’t have the threat of facing Nowell’s wrath, she could entertain thoughts of having a normal life. She could marry. Have a family.

  Now she’d be lucky to have a brief romance. The thought had her thinking of Dade again. Dare she encourage him that way? Would he even be interested in getting cozy with the woman who’d deceived him?

  “Ah, you look refreshed,” Mrs. Gant said, catching her before she could dart through the parlor.

  “I feel more like myself.” A truth on several levels.

  She was beset with that old fear of having to run and never look back. Of never fitting in. Of never having anything permanent in her life. Heavens, would she ever find peace?

  “You never did say exactly where Eloisa was living now,” Mrs. Gant said.

  “Sss"–Maggie caught herself before blurting out St. Louis–"Cincinnati.”

  That kind of slip of the tongue could mean the end of her freedom, for it would draw the bounty hunter to the place she’d hoped to disappear.

  Mrs. Gant went about dusting the parlor, seeming not to have noticed her near blunder. “I’ve never been there.”

  Neither had Maggie, nor would she ever go there now that she’d claimed that Eloisa was there. “I hear it’s quite cold in the winter.”

  “Poor dear. That won’t be easy on her,” Mrs. Gant said. “I hope this new hospital helps her condition.”

  “As do I.”

  If only it were so. If only Caroline was getting the help she needed.

  It angered her that Nowell had denied Caroline the healing benefits of the waters after his wife died. That he’d likely keep his own daughter a prisoner in that emotionally cold house. That he might just decide to ship her off to a private sanitarium anyway.

  But if he did, at least she’d be able to take the waters again. She’d be pain free, and free of her father’s interference.

  If only Maggie could be so lucky.

  “Well, if you get back that way to visit Eloisa, do tell her I’m thinking fondly of her,” Mrs. Gant said.

  “I’ll surely do that should I make the journey there, though I don’t imagine it’ll be any time in the near future.”

  Yes, for all the money that Harlan Nowell possessed, she and Caroline were equals in one regard. Both had been unwanted by their parents.

  “How terrible that you’re so far apart,” Mrs. Gant said. “Have you any family other than your brother?”

  “None.”

  She had a vague memory of an older woman singing to her and holding her close. She couldn’t bring the woman’s face to mind, but she remembered feeling safe.

  Another memory triggered a lightning flash of ice-cold fear. There’d been another woman too–one who was much younger and who terrified Maggie. Her aunt perhaps? The one who hadn’t wanted her?

  “What about friends?” Mrs. Gant asked.

  Maggie shook off the unpleasant memory of her own life. “Eloisa is the closest I have to family or friends.”

  The truth, and just knowing she’d likely never see her again brought sudden tears to her eyes. There was no one out there for her. There never had been.

  Mrs. Gant enveloped her in a hug, and Maggie resisted her natural urge to pull away. “Now, now, don’t fret, child. Eloisa might have a miraculous recovery at this new hospital and make a trip here to see you.”

  “That would be nice.”

  She’d like nothing better than to one day hear that Caroline was cured and had slipped free from her father’s hold. But she also knew it wouldn’t be easy for either of them to escape the life planned for them.

  If Caroline returned here, Maggie would be long gone.

  She gently extracted herself from Mrs. Gant and flushed at the compassion the woman directed at her. She wasn’t used to anyone fussing over her.

  Heavens, she could count on one hand the times someone had coddled her or hugged her. She hadn’t known how to take their kindness then, and she still hadn’t learned.

  “Forgive me for prying,” Mrs. Gant began, putting Maggie on alert that she was in for another probing question. “But how old were you when the Reynards adopted you?”

  “Eight years old,” Maggie said, clearly remembering that cold day.

  “Oh, my! Judging by the close bond you and Eloisa had, I was sure you’d been taken in by them when you were a baby.”

  Maggie merely smiled, for she wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. But Mrs. Gant didn’t appear to take her silence as an insult. No, she took it as an excuse to ask more questions.

  “Dade never said, but had you been in the orphanage long?” she asked, staring at Maggie with such pity that she wanted to scream.

  “Too long...”

  The longest months of her life, for the foundling home had felt like a prison sentence. But she surely couldn’t tell Mrs. Gant about the first family who’d adopted her, only to return her to the home nearly two years later.

  She’d tried to fit in with them, to win their affection, to form a sisterly bond with their beautiful daughter, Becka. And maybe that would have happened if not for the accident.

  To think how different her life would have been if she’d been able to stay with them. She surely wouldn’t be on the run now. Nor would she have met Dade Logan.

  “Such a long time for a child to be cooped up in an orphanage,” Mrs. Gant said. “Am I to assume you and Dade lost your parents? That you had no other family to take you in?”

  Maggie nodded woodenly, for she didn’t wish to say anything that would contradict what Dade might have said. Nor did she care to go into the painful details of her own life.

  “Such a shame that the Reynards didn’t take you and Dade both into their home,” Mrs. Gant said.

  “Very true.” Having remembered how alone Daisy had been, and knowing how hard Dade had tried to find her, she thought it a crime that the siblings had been separated.

  Mrs. Gant heaved a sigh. “But good fortune reigned when you found each other again.”

  “I suspect that is a rarity among separated siblings.”

  “And how sad that you had forgotten you had a brother,” she said, and Maggie got the first inkling that Mrs. Gant was piecing things together to see if there was a hole in the Logan family story.

  She couldn’t blame the woman. After all it was two tales and both were centered on lies and half-truths.

  Maggie thought back to what Dade had told her and factored in what she remembered about Daisy’s mishap. “My brother and I were separated when I was just five years old. I was told I took a spill from a wagon, but I don’t remember it. I don’t remember anything much before age seven.”

  “For one so young, you have certainly led a tumultuous life.” Mrs. Gant looked genuinely worried. “There are
those in town who fret about you and the sheriff being the outlaw’s children.”

  Maggie thought back to what Dade had told her. “As Dade said, our father lost all rights to call us his children when he dumped us on the steps of an orphanage.”

  “I believe you, dear. Truly I do. But I’m not the one who is determined to stir a pot best left to cool.”

  “The banker?”

  Mrs. Gant nodded. “Lionel Payne is not a nice man.”

  Maggie already knew that after that scene in the street today when Payne flung those accusations at Dade. “He tried to get folks to suspect that Dade purposely left the town unguarded today when he was simply riding out to the Orshlin homestead to see how I was doing.”

  Not the truth, but only she and Dade knew the truth.

  “I know you went with Doc to help him, and that Dade rode out with Doc to bring you home.” Mrs. Gant gave the room a quick scan, but still lowered her voice as if fearing they’d be overheard. “Lionel Payne has had dealings with that evil man in the past.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I was friends with Lionel Payne’s wife. She’d married him at the urging of her family and hoped in time she’d come to love him. But it never happened. She was miserable with him and begged him to agree to a divorce,” Mrs. Gant said. “Lionel was violently opposed to it and told her flat out there was only one way they’d part. Death.”

  Maggie shivered, thinking that would be her fate as well if she was forced to marry Whit Ramsey. “A pity the poor woman was trapped in a loveless marriage.”

  “Oh, she left him.” The older woman looked away as if suddenly troubled. “I knew she was going to run away from him, and I knew he’d be furious. But I never thought he’d hire a bounty hunter to track her down like she was a criminal.”

  Maggie could certainly understand how the woman must have felt. “Did he find her?”

  “That depends on who you ask,” Mrs. Gant said. “According to Lionel Payne, his wife was set upon by a ruffian while she was traveling by train to Omaha on a visit to her sister. In the struggle, she fell off to her death.”

  “You don’t think that happened,” Maggie said.

  Mrs. Gant worried her hands together and frowned. “Oh, I think she was attacked all right. But I believe it was arranged by Lionel Payne.”

  “You think the bounty hunter pushed her off the train?”

  “Or threw her off. Payne met with him the day after his wife disappeared. Two days after that Lionel announced his loss to the town.”

  Maggie’s stomach heaved. If Payne couldn’t have his wife, then he’d see that nobody else would either. Just how she expected Whit Ramsey to be. And since she’d jilted him at the altar, he’d have reason to want her dead as well.

  A new worry seeped into Maggie’s bones. All along she’d been worried that the bounty hunter would drag her back to Burland. That she’d be forced to marry Whit Ramsey, the man she’d publicly jilted.

  Now she wondered if this bounty hunter had been hired to eliminate her. Yes, it made sense. Harlan Nowell had accused her of stealing, and few folks would question anything bad befalling a thief.

  Maggie laid a hand on the older woman’s and started at the tremors she felt racing through her. “You’re sure the man who came here looking for Margaret Sutten is the same bounty hunter that Lionel Payne hired?”

  “Yes. It’s been years since I’d seen him, but I know it was him.” The older woman grasped her hand, her eyes wide with fear. “That poor Sutten woman. I dread to think what will happen to her if that bounty hunter finds her.”

  It was Maggie’s fear as well, and that trepidation exploded in her as she stared into the older woman’s eyes and saw that her concern was directed toward Maggie. My God! Mrs. Gant knew, or suspected the truth.

  Dare Maggie trust her? She wanted to, but trust wasn’t something she gave easily.

  “Maybe Miss Sutten will outwit him,” she said.

  Mrs. Gant just stared at her, like a parent would to a child who’d just told a whopping lie. “If she’s got any sense, Margaret Sutten will run far from here and never look back.”

  Chapter 8

  The Denver & Rio Grande came through Burland twice a day on the narrow gauge line and occasionally it arrived on time. Today the morning train was late by nearly two hours, prompting many in town to speculate whether it had been held up along the way.

  The train was the only means to ship silver from the mines to the smelters, which made it a temptation to those looking to fatten their pockets without laboring. Those narrow mountain passes made an ambush an easier feat for those inclined to live by their guns.

  Nobody mentioned the Logan Gang were the likely villains, but Dade knew that was on the townsfolk’s minds. Hell, it was on his as well.

  He shrugged his shoulders against the unease he’d been unable to shake since coming back from yesterday’s trek with Duane and strode down the boardwalk toward the small depot at the edge of town. He tipped his hat to the few ladies who were out this crisp spring day and dipped his chin to the gents. Some folks smiled. Some stared. More than a few turned their heads.

  Yep, it was clear that he was about as wanted here as ants at a picnic. Good thing they had a deputy who could shoot straight, though Dade worried how Duane would fare in a draw.

  Most lawmen knew that their lives depended on how fast they could clear leather. Duane’s injury was a hindrance.

  Dade stepped inside the cramped depot and gave the room a quick glance. It was empty save for the regular loungers. A few old men met here every day to swap lies.

  “That’ll be fifty cents,” the ticket agent said to the woman standing at the window.

  “Mighty expensive for no more than I had to say,” she said.

  “That it is, but a telegram is still faster than the mail.”

  “I’ll wait for a reply.” She bustled to the bench against the wall and eased down to do just that, earning her a grunt from the agent.

  Dade offered her a brief smile. She turned her head and denied him the same.

  He snorted and glanced back at the train. If not for Maggie, he’d be tempted to hop on and put this town behind him.

  Soon. Once the deputy was settled in, he’d head east and begin his search for Daisy all over again.

  He didn’t doubt that Maggie Sutten had been on the orphan train with Daisy. But had they been as close as Maggie claimed?

  Maggie wasn’t a scatterwit. If she’d befriended Daisy like she claimed to have done, his sister would’ve shared her fears and memories with her friend.

  To convince him that she was his sister, Maggie would have trotted out a memory or two. But she’d been stunned to learn that Daisy had a brother.

  If Maggie was telling the truth, then his sister lost all her memory of her family. How the hell long would something like that last? He’d have to ask Doc Franklin.

  Surely Daisy’s memory had returned over time. Surely she knew who she was now. And if she didn’t?

  His reasons for enlisting Maggie’s help solidified in his head. He couldn’t let her go. Not now.

  Dade stepped up to the window. “Anybody get off?”

  “Nary a one.” The railroad agent looked around the deserted platform. “Don’t look like anyone is leaving either.”

  “Nothing unusual about that.”

  Life moved at a snail’s pace here, and that’s just the way most folks liked it. The main reason the train stopped here at all was to deliver the mail and freight.

  “Got a telegram that just came for Doc,” the agent said. “Would you mind dropping it off at his place?”

  “Sure thing. Going right by there.” Dade took the note and caught Daisy’s name midway down it. “What do I owe you?”

  “Not a thing. Never take a red cent from the doc,” the agent said. “Never know when I’ll need his help.”

  One back scratching the other.

  He left the depot and started back through town. The telegram w
as private, yet catching mention of Daisy made it his business. Never mind that the Daisy Logan Doc Franklin was referring to was Miss Margaret Sutten.

  Still and all it was to his advantage to pay attention to what that woman was fixing to do.

  He paused in the alley and gave the telegram a quick read. His temper erupted in a slow boil.

  The headmaster at the John Sealy Training School for Nurses in Galveston was responding to Doc’s telegram. They could enroll Daisy Logan in their late summer session and provide a room for her while she worked in the hospital and took classes.

  Hell, Dade would bet if he hadn’t seen this telegram, he’d have had no idea what Maggie was fixing to do with Doc’s help. He’d have just woken up one morning, and she’d have been gone.

  He barged into Doc’s without knocking. “You busy?”

  “Nope,” Doc said. “Come on back to the kitchen.”

  He strode right there and came up short in the doorway. Maggie sat at the square table with Doc, a cup of coffee before her.

  “Were you going to tell me about this nurses’ school?” Dade asked by way of greeting.

  Her lips parted but no sound emerged. Good. At least he’d gotten an honest reaction from her for a change.

  “The more folks know her plans, the less safe she’s going to be,” Doc said.

  Dammit all but Dade couldn’t find fault with that logic. But he was still the law in this town, duty bound to protect everyone in it. He couldn’t do that if he was kept in the dark.

  He handed Doc Franklin the telegram and noted the letter lying between him and Maggie. “How many of these hospitals have you contacted?”

  “Just three,” Doc said. “One in Denver, one in Galve-ston, and one in St. Louis.”

  “Which other one have you heard from?” he asked.

  Doc glanced at the new telegram. “All of them. But Maggie feels that Denver is too close to Burland.”