by Janet Dean
Carly would remember that, too. If she didn’t, she might fall in love with Nate. Then what terrible price might she and Henry pay?
* * *
Would this be a fool’s errand or provide the next lead to Stogsdill’s whereabouts? Time would tell.
As the sky bloomed with pink and orange, heralding the rising sun, Nate slapped leather on his horse, its dark coat shining with health; his one white foot the reason Nate called him Maverick.
Lloyd and Lester tromped around the livery, feeding and watering the horses.
“I should return before the first customer arrives,” Nate called.
Lester threw up a hand. “If not, you can count on us.”
With a nod, Nate led Maverick out of the barn, then swung into the saddle and rode down Main Street, quiet at this early hour. He tugged the brim of his Stetson low and, pressing a heel into Maverick’s side, they picked up speed and headed out of town.
He’d missed time in the saddle. Missed the exhilaration of riding with the wind in his face, at one with his horse. But he didn’t miss sleeping on the hard ground and meals of hardtack and cold beans. These few weeks he’d spent in Gnaw Bone, he’d grown accustomed to Anna’s home cooking, to a soft mattress and a pillow under his head.
His heart stuttered in his chest. Yes...and to the softness of Carly in his arms. And the overpowering need to protect and care for her. When had he ever felt that way before?
He and Rachel would’ve built a good life together, but he and Carly had walked through the hot coals of difficult pasts and survived. That connection was strong, like a braided whip.
Didn’t hurt one bit the woman was beautiful and could hold her own with anyone, including him, and, mothered a boy who’d captured Nate’s heart.
A couple miles outside of town, the winding road bordered woods, shooting his thoughts back to the location of that cottage in Carly’s dream. Except, these woods were littered with fallen trees and broken limbs, probably the result of a winter ice storm. A hardscrabble reminder woods weren’t some fantasy world of perfection. And fairy tales were just that. Myths. Not something to hang anyone’s future on.
That truth didn’t stop the memory of Carly’s lips under his. That truth didn’t stop the memory of their powerful attraction that left him shaken. That truth didn’t stop the memory of the overpowering yearning to settle down.
Thankfully, before anyone got hurt, she’d headed off a mistake, a happily-ever-after ending doomed to fail. He couldn’t jeopardize Carly’s safety as he had Rachel’s.
Something he should’ve considered before he’d kissed Carly.
But he could risk stopping Debby from falling into a bad marriage. The sheriff had spent a couple of days looking and had not found any wanted posters on Rory Cummins. Was the man what he claimed, or an outlaw parading as a salesman?
One way to find out. Show Debby the picture of Stogsdill.
Was he about to break a young girl’s heart? Not a task he took pleasure in. But better to break her heart now than to see her tied to a robber, a killer. A man who would drag her down with him.
If the two men were one and the same and Debby was as innocent as Carly believed, the price on Rory’s head would make Debby break off the engagement. An angry Stogsdill would make it his mission to find out why. He might even retaliate against Debby and her grandparents. Nate’s stomach knotted with a pain that burned. More names to add to the growing list of those Nate needed to protect.
But if Debby was in cahoots with the outlaw, she would report the incident to Stogsdill. And Stogsdill would come gunning for Nate. The reason he dared not get caught up in this loco desire for a gentler life with Carly and Henry and let down his guard.
At the Pence farm, an idyllic spot of gently rolling hills tinted green, all seemed right with the world. Nate rode up the lane to the two-story house.
In the barnyard Nate swung from the saddle, slapped the reins around the hitching post and walked to the porch. Had Stogsdill tainted the pristine-white clapboards of this farmhouse with his presence?
Debby opened the door to his knock, looking fresh as a daisy in a blue calico dress. From her fading smile, she was disappointed to see him. Had she expected Rory? Or merely hoped?
“Mr. Sergeant,” she said, fiddling with the ruby ring dangling from her neck. “This is a surprise.”
Nate doffed his hat. “Good morning, Miss Pence.”
“Who is it?” The door opened wider and Debby’s grandfather stepped into view, hitching a red suspender over his shoulder.
“Nate Sergeant, Grandpa. He’s a friend of Carly Richards.”
Would Carly call Nate a friend? Somehow he doubted it. Friends didn’t unsettle each other. Friends didn’t share kisses that shifted the ground under their feet. Friends didn’t erect fences to keep each other out.
“What brings you out here?” Pence said, his tone conveying an unspoken disquiet.
Nate cleared his throat. “Sir, I need to assure myself your granddaughter isn’t making a terrible mistake.” He paused, plowing a hand through his hair. “By marrying a murderer wanted by the law.”
A gasp on her lips, Debby’s eyes widened with alarm and then narrowed as red stained her cheeks. “Rory’s not an outlaw! He’s a salesman.”
Mr. Pence laid a gnarled hand on Debby’s shoulder and took a step closer. “I ain’t all that impressed with Rory. Still... That’s a serious accusation,” he said, gaze penetrating, suspicious. “Why would you say that, Sergeant?”
“Miss Pence, would you mind me asking where you first met Rory?”
“In St. Louis at Cousin Minnie’s church social. Rory’s sister attends there and introduced us.”
“Shifty Stogsdill is the outlaw I’m referring to. I suspect St. Louis is Stogsdill’s home base.”
“You’re a bounty hunter,” Pence said. “I expect you would view every man with suspicion. See every female as a possible sweetheart to this, uh, Shifty person.”
“Not every woman.” He motioned toward the ruby ring adorning Debby’s neck. “I’ve seen a ruby ring like that on Stogsdill’s hand.”
Had seen red glinting in the sun mere seconds before Stogsdill gunned down Rachel.
Pence folded his arms across his chest. “Hard to believe my granddaughter would give her heart to a killer.”
“Rory wouldn’t kill anyone,” Debby vowed. “He’s got a good job. Plans for our future. He’s exciting, makes me laugh.”
“Sometimes he makes you cry,” her grandfather said, his eyes boring into Debby’s.
Debby’s chin trembled. “That’s not his fault. I get emotional about his leaving and...”
“Deborah Sue, time you—”
“Sir, I have a sketch of Stogsdill.” Nate reached inside his vest. “And information about his height and weight. One look should settle the matter.”
“Come inside,” Pence said, steering Debby ahead of him.
Nate followed them to a yellow-painted kitchen where the aromas of a hearty breakfast teased his nostrils. He’d left before Anna had awakened. His breakfast a hardboiled egg he’d found in the icebox. But filling his stomach was not the point of his visit.
Gray hair twisted into a knot at her nape, Mrs. Pence stood with her back to him at the blackened mammoth cookstove, scooping fried potatoes from an iron skillet onto a platter.
“Mother,” Pence said, “this here’s Nate Sergeant, that bounty hunter.” Mrs. Pence walked to her husband’s side. “He wants us to take a look at the picture of an outlaw he’s after.”
“Whatever for?” she said, wiping her hands on the apron wrapped around her middle, her wary eyes giving Nate a tongue-lashing. Obviously the woman didn’t trust him.
Pence merely pointed to a table in front of the window, then grabbed a magnifying glass lying on the counter beside an open Bible. “Put the paper there where the light’s good.”
With a nod, Nate strode to the table, the heels of his boots clomping on the wood-planked floor. He unfol
ded the wanted poster, smoothed the surface with both hands, then stepped aside.
The family edged closer, slowly, as if approaching a venomous snake. Head bent over the poster, Debby looked and then quickly looked away.
Nate held his breath, but didn’t have long to wait.
As her gaze traveled back, a horrified gasp rose from Debby’s lips, every drop of color leeching from her cheeks. She gripped one of the chairs. “It...it can’t be.”
Holding the magnifying glass over the picture, Pence leaned closer. As the glass clattered to the table, Pence’s mouth moved and his Adam’s apple bobbed, but he emitted no sound. Then he turned, his gaze locking with Nate’s. “It’s him.”
“Miss Pence,” Nate said gently, “do you agree the man on the wanted poster and your fiancé are one and the same?”
Her lower lip quivering, Debby crumbled into the chair, hunching forward with her elbows on the table, her face in her hands. “I had no idea,” she said, then began to cry softly, her shoulders shaking.
Her grandmother bent close, pressing her cheek to Debby’s. “There, there,” she said.
“That poster says Rory killed a half dozen folks, maybe more. No wonder he wouldn’t attend church. Probably feared the wrath of God.” Pence sat on his haunches beside his granddaughter’s chair and took her hand. “Debby, you know what this means. To make sure that scoundrel won’t come near you, you gotta break off the engagement.”
“Do you know how to contact him?” Nate said.
Mrs. Pence pulled a hanky from her apron pocket and handed it to her granddaughter.
Debby wiped the square of linen over her cheeks. “He told me to contact his sister. She could get a message to him. Only in an emergency, he said.”
“Patricia Schubert.”
“Yes.” Her face crumpled and a high-pitched wail slid from her lips, shattering the quiet kitchen.
Mrs. Pence pulled her granddaughter to her feet and into her arms, rocking back and forth, crooning softly in her ear.
Nate released the breath he’d been holding. Debby’s reaction to that poster either proved her innocence, or she was an amazing actress. Nate tamped down the thought. Years as a bounty hunter had left him jaded. Even he couldn’t deny this young woman was heartbroken.
Pence lurched to his feet, grabbed his hat from the hook by the back door and slapped it on his head. “I’m riding to town. I’ll send a wire telling that sidewinder Debby ain’t marrying him and he’s never to darken our door again.”
“I’ve got a plan I’d like you to consider. A plan that would ensure Stogsdill is caught. For the plan to work, he can’t know we’re on to him. I’ll need your help, if you and your granddaughter are willing to play along.”
Her grandfather paused, weighing Nate’s words, and then motioned to a chair. “Take the weight off, Sergeant.”
Mrs. Pence tilted up Debby’s chin. “You up to listening to Mr. Sergeant’s plan?”
With a nod, Debby took the chair across from Nate.
“Mother, a cup of your strong coffee may help this plan go down a little easier.”
Mrs. Pence served steaming coffee in ironstone mugs, then set sugar and cream on the table. As Nate took a swig of coffee, she took a seat beside her granddaughter. The food grew cold, but no one had an appetite.
This cheerful, orderly kitchen laden with mouth-watering aromas didn’t fit the sinister situation. Nate leaned forward and explained his plan, hoping they’d agree to do their part.
Pence looked at Debby. “You must love the man. You okay with this?”
“I thought I loved him, Grandpa, but...” Debby heaved a sigh. “He can be cruel sometimes. Now I know why.”
At Debby’s words, her grandfather’s brow furrowed. He sat studying his hands while the pendulum of the clock clicked its steady beat. “That bruise on your arm last month wasn’t from banging into the barn door like you claimed, was it?”
Without a word, Debby hung her head.
“That chicken-livered coward. What kind of man could harm a woman?”
Nate’s heart stuttered in his chest. Had Richards left bruises on Carly’s arms? Or worse?
“Then it’s decided,” Pence said. “Someone’s got to stop him. We’ll do as you suggest, Sergeant. That plan of yours makes sense.”
With a nod, Nate set down his half-empty mug. “Thanks for the coffee, ma’am. I’ll leave you to your breakfast.”
“Mr. Sergeant,” Debby said, her sad eyes imploring. “Please tell Carly I’ll be in to pay for the dress.”
“Knowing Carly, she won’t allow it, but I’ll tell her.”
Nate would pay the bill. The least he could do for Carly and for the young woman Stogsdill had deceived. “Miss Pence, this isn’t your fault. The man preys on the defenseless and the innocent.”
“That’s kind of you to say, but I’ve been a fool. All I could think about was getting married. I didn’t want to examine my misgivings closely.”
She reached up and unclasped the chain around her neck, then turned watery eyes to his. “I once thought this ring was beautiful. Do you suppose Rory stole it, even spilled blood to get it?”
“Wouldn’t be surprised.”
Debby shivered, dropping the ring, chain and all, to the table. “I can’t stand the sight of it.”
“I’m not expecting the worst, but if Stogsdill should arrive at your door, you should be wearing that ring and call him Rory. Play along. Your lives could depend on it.”
Tears sprang to Debby’s eyes. “I’m so sorry I brought all this on you,” she said to her grandparents in a wobbly voice.
“God will see us through. My Winchester won’t hurt none neither.”
Pence escorted Nate out, letting the door slam behind him. And gripped Nate’s hand. “I’m beholden to you. Can’t bear to think what might’ve happened to our granddaughter if she’d got herself hitched to a murderer.” He exhaled. “I’ll keep my guns loaded,” he said when they were out of earshot of the house.
“I’ll stop by the sheriff’s office and tell him our plan.”
Pence gave a nod.
“Let me know if you see or hear anything suspicious or alarming.”
“I will. Can’t understand why an outlaw would cotton to a sweet girl like my granddaughter.”
The same thought had occurred to Nate. He motioned to the horses grazing in the pasture. “If Debby talked about her life here when she met Stogsdill, maybe those thoroughbreds and this farm enticed him,” he said, unhitching his horse and swinging into the saddle. “This would be a good spot to hole up.”
“Reckon so.”
Nate rode toward Gnaw Bone. No matter what he’d said to Pence, Stogsdill might have seen in Debby a woman he could control, a woman who would give him children and keep her lip buttoned.
If Stogsdill had grown weary of his life, Nate would see that the outlaw didn’t get his wish.
He didn’t want Stogsdill anywhere near Gnaw Bone, anywhere near those he cared about, but once he got that telegram, Stogsdill would come.
Nate spurred his horse faster. For once, he would have the advantage over Stogsdill and he intended to make use of it, if it was the last thing he did.
Chapter Seventeen
Carly shrugged her shoulders, trying to loosen her tight muscles after hours spent hunched over the sewing machine.
Across the way, Anna hand stitched the opening of the collar she’d turned.
They were making progress, close to completing Vivian’s trousseau. The bride had come in that morning for final fittings on several garments. Only two more dresses to make before the Schwartz wedding. Three days to finish, which gave Vivian that week to pack as she’d wanted.
With an hour till closing time, Carly was tempted to lock the door and turn the sign in the window to Closed. But, if she did, her customers might question her reliability. Once the judge arrived, she’d have no choice. Weary as she was, Carly hoped nothing interrupted their progress.
The bell ove
r the door jingled. Maizie rose from the floor, tail wagging, eager to greet the newcomer. Carly stopped pedaling, pasted on a smile and faced the door.
Hat in hand, Nate stood in the entrance, his rugged jaw dark with stubble, his gray eyes probing, his holstered gun riding his hip. He reminded her of their first meeting here in this shop. She’d thought him dangerous then, and he looked dangerous now.
Her heart tripped in her chest. Dangerous and oh, so tempting.
He moved closer, his stride loose, confident, almost a swagger. Carly’s traitorous thoughts zinged to his kiss. To the softness of his lips, the hard muscles of his chest beneath her palm, the wild beating of his heart.
As wild as her erratic pulse now. He stopped near her, his smoldering eyes locking with hers, then lowering to her mouth.
He must be thinking of their kiss. That kiss had left her exhilarated, full of yearning, and oh, yes, of trepidation, leaving her as unraveled as a tattered tea towel.
“Nate,” Anna said, her alarmed tone jerking Carly’s foot on the treadle. “From the look on your face when you came in, I’d say you have bad news.”
“I’m afraid so,” he said, then explained Debby Pence’s fiancé was none other than Stogsdill, the villain he’d been trailing for years.
The news sank to Carly’s stomach like a stone. “Poor Debby must be devastated, but at least she won’t endure a lifetime of misery.” Or what might feel longer than a lifetime.
“Debby’s insisting on paying for her wedding dress, but I’d like to take care of the bill.”
Nate might look hard and dangerous, but he often showed a softer side, a considerate, even tender side.
“That’s kind of you to offer, but once we’ve finished the Schwartz order, I’ll rework the dress so completely, Debby wouldn’t recognize it if she met a woman wearing it on the street.”
“You’re very talented,” Nate said, his gaze dropping to her lips and lingering there.
Was he suggesting she had an aptitude for kissing? Heat flooded Carly’s cheeks, and she quickly focused on the fabric under the pressure foot. She stifled a sigh. A crooked seam she’d have to take out and sew again. A reminder that Nate Sergeant would thwart the straight path she’d chosen.