The Bounty Hunter's Redemption

by Janet Dean

  Nate’s gaze met hers and then slid away.

  “Well, in that case, Mrs. Richards, I misjudged the situation.” He heaved a sigh. “It’s never easy to give a ruling that wounds good people.”

  She thrust back her shoulders. “My son and I will be fine.”

  “I’m sure you will. I always say the backbone of this great country of ours is our womenfolk. Well, I wish you all the best of luck.” He rose and ambled through the side door.

  As soon as the door closed, Carly hustled up the aisle, Nate on her heels.

  “Carly, please, talk to me.”

  She whipped around. “What is there to say?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “So you said. Sorry for what? That I lost the shop or that you’re leaving?”

  “Both. I’ve got a job to do.” His gaze locked with hers. “You know I don’t have a choice.”

  “In one thing, you do. Admit it, Nate. You don’t want to merely capture Stogsdill, you want him dead.”

  He glanced away, unable to deny her words.

  Carly could never accept a man bent on taking a life. “I need to collect my son from Mrs. Harders,” she said, then strode outside.

  Anna waited and tugged Carly into a hug. “We need to talk.”

  “Anna, you can’t fix this. Henry and I will...”

  The bravado Carly had showed in front of the judge, in front of Nate, threatened to crumble. She bit her lower lip and turned away, fighting tears.

  She’d lost the business she and Henry had paid dearly for with years under Max’s thumb.

  Everything she’d endured, everything she’d worked for—

  Gone.

  Exactly what she deserved.

  * * *

  One look at Carly’s pain-racked eyes had Nate taking a step back. As much as he longed to wrap her in his arms, he knew that was the last thing she’d want.

  Still, he had to try to make her understand. He stepped between her and his sister. “You and Anna both deserve the shop. I never meant to hurt you, Carly.”

  “Didn’t you?” Carly leaned toward him. “You hurt me the day you came into my shop and threatened to take it away. Exactly what’s happened.” Tears flooded her eyes. She wiped at them with the back of her hand. “Our business is concluded, Nate. You got the shop. Now go get your criminal.” She lifted her chin. “I have to...figure out what to do next.”

  He reached for her. “Carly, please—”

  “I’ve got no choice but to move. I’ll be out of your way as soon as—”

  Henry skidded to a halt in front of them, his young face contorted, tears streaking down his cheeks.

  The boy looked up at Nate, his eyes wide, as if seeing him for the first time. “You did it?” he said, his voice soft and broken.

  Nate lowered himself to Henry’s height. “Did what?”

  “You...” Henry’s lower lip wobbled, his cheeks flushed. “You killed my pa?” he said with a heartbreakingly hopeful lilt at the end of the question, as if to say, “Please tell me it’s not true. Please tell me you didn’t do it.”

  Nate closed his eyes and dragged in a shuddering breath. If only he could lie. If only he could say the words Henry wanted to hear, the words that would stop this little boy from hating him. Nate clung to this second, this too short fraction of time, before the truth detonated like a spark to a stick of dynamite, destroying all the good times they’d shared. “I did, but—”

  “You killed him?” Henry’s voice broke and the hope drained from his face. Carly laid a hand on Henry’s shoulder, but he shook it off. “Wh...wh...why?”

  Please, Lord, how to explain this? What words could Nate use to justify his actions? To tell Henry his father was dead because of Nate’s gun, Nate’s bullet, Nate’s sense of right and wrong.

  That Henry’s father was dead because Max Richards was a bad man and Nate’s job was to stop the bad men in this world.

  Nate thought of his parents, of the day Stogsdill or some member of his gang had shot them dead. They’d been good people, decent people, who’d worked hard and loved fiercely. That pain had been like a lance in Nate’s chest, a wound that had never fully healed.

  This was his legacy to Henry, an unwanted gift that would forever haunt this sweet little boy.

  “I didn’t want to do it, Henry,” Nate said. “I really didn’t.”

  In all the years Nate had done this job, he’d never had to face the son of a man he’d killed. He’d never had to face that grief dead-on. He’d never had to look at the tremble of a little boy’s lips, the tears in his eyes, and wish he could go back in time and stop the bullet’s course before it entered Richards’s heart.

  Nate had wanted only to protect, to help the boy. To fill that void, that need for a father.

  The terrible truth seeped into his soul. If not for him, Henry would still have his dad, a man who’d failed him, sure, but a man Henry still yearned for.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Carly knelt beside her son and tried to tug him into her arms but his feet remained planted in place. “Sweetie, Nate was just trying to, uh, stop your pa from doing something bad.”

  “My pa didn’t do bad things. He didn’t. He didn’t,” he said a third time, as if that would erase the past, then he lifted his face to Nate’s. Pain shimmered in his eyes, colored by disbelief and, worst of all, betrayal. “You—” he sucked in a sob “—you did.”

  “Henry—”

  He shoved his mother’s arms away. The Stetson on his head toppled to the ground, tumbling to a stop in a mud puddle.

  “I’m really sorry, Henry. I didn’t know he was your father and I didn’t know...”

  How much his death would hurt.

  “You did it,” Henry said, his voice a harsh, sad whisper. “You did it.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nate said again, but he knew, no matter how many times he said it, his apology wouldn’t be enough.

  “I don’t care!” Henry lunged. His fists hit Nate in the chest, hard, pointed. His voice exploded in wrenching sobs. “I hate you! I hate you!”

  Then he ran, his thin legs pumping toward home. A home no longer his. A home Nate had stolen from Henry, too.

  He had to do something to make things right between them. “Henry, wait!” Nate started after him.

  “Let him go,” Carly said, coming up behind him. “Haven’t you done enough damage to my family already?”

  All the good times he and Henry had shared were gone, along with what was left of a seven-year-old boy’s innocence. “Carly, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

  “Whether you meant to or not, you came along and set the wheels in motion. You encouraged Henry’s affection, all the while concerned with far more pressing matters than a little boy’s happiness. You’ve hurt my son.”

  One look at Carly and Nate knew what she didn’t say: that he’d hurt her, too.

  She wrapped her arms around her chest and looked off in the direction her son had gone. “This town holds too many bad memories. For Henry. And for me.” She gathered her skirts and ran toward the shop.

  Her soft words clamped against Nate’s lungs like a vise. He’d come to Gnaw Bone intent on making life better for his sister. In doing so, he’d killed this beautiful woman’s dream and wounded her son.

  Nate stared at Henry’s Stetson lying there in the mud. Discarded, soiled, unwanted. He picked up the hat and ran his fingers along the brim, cleaning off the worst of the mud.

  Anna hitched closer. From the look of her furrowed brow and damp eyes, she’d heard everything.

  He hung his head. “I’ve made a mess of it, Anna.”

  “Carly will calm down and explain things to Henry. She’ll make him understand what happened with Max.”

  Nate shook his head. “How can you explain to a child that one bullet, one killing, is different from another?”

  “Your entire life you’ve fought for justice, protected good folks from evildoers. Max Richards killed Walt and tried to kill you.
What were you supposed to do, stand there and let him? Who would have been his next victim?” She cupped his jaw in her hand. “You had no choice, Nate. You’re a good man and I won’t stand by and let you think otherwise.”

  “Carly doesn’t think so.”

  “She’s upset about losing the shop. But I’m going to insist on sharing it with her. May take a while to build up the business, but God won’t let us starve.”

  “She’s leaving. She’s taking Henry and leaving.”

  Anna inhaled sharply. “I can’t let her go. I’ll talk to her.” She took his hand. “Remember how upset I was to move to Gnaw Bone? You told me I’d make friends here. That the dresses I made would give women confidence.”

  He nodded.

  “Well, you were right. Carly is my friend. I’m not going to sit back and let her toss that friendship aside. Sometimes it just takes a little convincing to make things right.”

  He handed Henry’s hat to his sister. “Give this to Carly. Maybe Henry will want it...someday.”

  His sister took the hat and headed toward the shop. Though the limp was no less noticeable, she held herself taller, had a new confidence he hadn’t noticed before. Anna had flourished here, using her talent as a seamstress, forging new friendships, especially with Carly and her son. His decision to bring her to Gnaw Bone had been good for her.

  But that decision had brought harm to Carly.

  No matter what Anna hoped, Carly wouldn’t share the shop. She knew same as he did; the shop couldn’t support his sister and Carly and her son.

  If she followed through on her plan and left town, once he found Stogsdill, he’d go in search of Carly and Henry. He had to know their needs were met. That they were all right. Maybe one day they could find it in their hearts to forgive him.

  * * *

  Henry remained sprawled on his bed, his face buried in his pillow, the elephant Carly had made him tucked in the crook of an arm. A small forlorn figure seeking what comfort he could from a stuffed toy instead of from her.

  No matter how much disquiet Henry felt whenever Max was home, her son had still longed for his father’s affection. Did Henry believe by shooting Max, Nate had destroyed the last chance to make his father love him?

  What child didn’t cling to a parent, even a bad parent, always hoping for love and approval?

  Even four years after her father’s death, she’d still craved his affection. But he’d never declared his love. He’d never declared his approval. He’d never declared Carly anything, except to say she wasn’t enough.

  Lord, please don’t let my son feel unworthy.

  She had to try again to make him understand. “Anna dropped off your hat. You might want it the next time you ride Lady.”

  Though she could tell he wasn’t asleep, Henry didn’t respond. His silence tore at her. The very thing Carly had feared had happened. Nate had fallen off that pedestal and broken Henry’s heart. What could she do to heal his hurt?

  Her son had seen Nate as good, pure. Now he saw him as bad, sullied. Life wasn’t as black and white as an innocent boy believed. One day, he’d comprehend the shades of gray.

  But not too soon, Lord.

  Carly laid the hat on Henry’s dresser, then sat on the bed and rubbed her son’s back. “Who told you what happened to your pa?” she said softly.

  Henry rolled over, his eyes bloodshot, his cheeks red and shiny with tears. “I heered Lester and Lloyd talking when Mrs. Harders was watching me.”

  Leave it to the Harders brothers to shoot off their mouths.

  “Mama, wh...what bad thing did Pa do?”

  “What?”

  “You said Nate was stopping Pa from doing something bad. What was Pa gonna do?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  “You always lie to me.”

  “Henry, I don’t lie. I—”

  “You do, too! You never tell me nuthin’.” Fresh tears welled in his eyes. “You smile and smile but your eyes are sad. I can tell you’re lying.”

  “Some things aren’t good for children to hear.”

  “Was Pa gonna hurt you? Was that the bad thing?”

  “No.”

  “But he did. He knocked you down. He called you names. He throwed dishes at you.” His chest heaved as he dragged in a ragged breath. “Why didn’t we run away, Mama?”

  “Well, sweetie, it’s complicated.”

  “You always say that. You never tell the truth!”

  Henry scrambled from the bed, still clutching his elephant, and darted from the room.

  Henry blamed her for not leaving Max. He didn’t understand the risk. She heaved a sigh. Couldn’t she be honest, even with herself? The problem stemmed from not dealing with what she and Henry had gone through with Max. Instead she’d lived a lie. Put on a brave face for her son and hidden the truth from everyone. She should’ve talked with Henry rather than pretend the fear and heartache never happened.

  Had she been so naive as to believe she could deceive her son? When he’d lived in this house? When he’d known Max’s temper and unpredictable moods? When he’d watched his father’s every move with guarded eyes?

  She’d told herself she’d kept silent to protect Henry. When the truth was, she’d been afraid her son might ask questions she couldn’t bear to answer. It was easier to ignore the ugliness of the past than to admit the mistakes she’d made.

  With a moan, Carly picked up Henry’s damp pillow and hugged it to her chest, rocking softly, tears she’d refused to shed streaming down her face.

  She’d seen her father and Max as bad parents, but she wasn’t any better. In her attempt to cover up the truth, she’d failed her son.

  One more thing to add to the long list that proved she wasn’t good enough. Not even for the son she adored.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The streets were deserted. As empty as Nate. He lifted his gaze to the church. Ironic that in a place of worship, a judge had handed down a ruling that rocked his and Carly’s fragile relationship.

  Then Henry had somehow learned Nate had killed his father, the final blow to a future with the boy and his mother.

  Nate gave a strangled laugh. Lord, I’m sure You aren’t happy with me, either. Well, You aren’t judging me any harsher than I judge myself.

  Lloyd and Lester skidded to a stop in front of him, gasping for breath, their eyes brimming with alarm.

  “Thought you should know we seen a stranger sneaking out of the livery,” Lester said, then sucked in a breath. “Looked mighty suspicious, too.”

  Lloyd nodded. “One of them strings you set was broke.”

  Surely, there was no way Stogsdill could’ve had time to get there.

  Still...

  Every fiber of his being on alert, Nate scanned the street, his hand instinctively going for his gun. And came up empty. Except for his own gun and the sheriff’s, Judge Rohlof hadn’t allowed weapons in his court. “I’ll get my gun and take a look.”

  “Iffen you need us, we’ll be at the mercantile unloading an order for Stuffle,” Lester said. “Everybody in this town’s got a job for us.”

  The twins hustled off.

  As he headed to the cabin, the knot in Nate’s stomach tightened. If Stogsdill was the stranger skulking around the livery, Nate’s plan had backfired. That advantage Nate had believed he had, lost. Once again, he’d underestimated the outlaw and put those he cared about at risk. His worst nightmare.

  A thought struck like a bolt of lightning. Had Stogsdill targeted Rachel deliberately? Was Stogsdill playing with him, as a cat toyed with a mouse? Attempting to destroy him by destroying those Nate cared about?

  He’d failed Henry and hurt Carly, but he would keep them safe or die trying.

  At the house, Nate grabbed his weapons, and then ran toward the livery, his gun belt riding his hip, his rifle in hand.

  Inside the livery’s dim interior, Nate strode toward Maverick’s stall, the quiet broken only by the shuffling of hooves and the chirping of
a cricket. Some of the horses dozed on their feet. Others greeted him with a nudge of their snouts.

  He opened Maverick’s stall, slapped leather on his horse, and then led him into the aisle.

  Across the way, a slip of paper tacked to a center post caught his attention. Had someone put up an auction bill or—?

  A sixth sense flared—a hunch that had kept him alive for years. His gaze sweeping the area, he stepped closer.

  The paper was held in place by—

  Nate’s ebony-handled knife. Someone had been in the cabin.

  He ripped the sheet free. In bold, black, stark letters against the pale paper he read, “‘The hunter becomes the hunted.’”

  Only one man could be responsible for the terse warning.

  Energy shot through him, along with hard-nosed determination to protect at any cost. Revenge no longer mattered. All that mattered was protecting Carly, Henry and Anna.

  Those he loved.

  Yes, loved. What a fool he’d been.

  He swung into the saddle and rode through the open doors, then nudged his mount. Under him Maverick sprang forward, galloping through the empty streets.

  This time Stogsdill wouldn’t get past him. This time no one would get hurt. This time Nate would not fail.

  * * *

  Carly couldn’t find Henry anywhere. She and Anna had scoured the house, the attic, the shop.

  Where could he be? She glanced at the clock. Not an hour ago she’d left his bedroom. Was he so upset he’d run away from home? Her heart tripped in her chest. If he’d run off, she had only herself to blame.

  She sucked in a calming breath and tried to tell herself small boys ran away all the time and came trudging back home, safe and sound.

  But this small boy was her son. Her entire world.

  Where would he go? Surely he couldn’t get far. Perhaps he’d gone to seek comfort from Lady or even Nate. “Anna, I’m going to the livery.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Still, I think... Oh, Anna, I think we need a search party.”

  Anna wrapped Carly in a hug. “I’m praying for Henry. He’ll be all right.” She donned her hat. “But it won’t hurt to ask Sheriff Truitt for help,” she said and hurried out.