by Debra Cowan
The memory sobered him. He’d been blinded by his feelings before, and he wouldn’t make that mistake again. He was here to protect Ivy, and that was all.
* * *
She was fine. Thanks to Gideon, Ivy didn’t have even a scratch. Still, her nerves twitched at every noise, and it seemed as though just a hiccup might make her shatter.
Tears stung the backs of her eyes. Someone meant to do her harm. Who? Why? Did they want to kill her? Ruin her business? From the poems to the creepily detailed drawings, everything had grown more threatening. The dead animals, now a vicious trap.
With a shudder, she pushed the thoughts away. She needed to stay busy. Not only to keep from losing her composure, but also to keep her mind off how she’d wanted to give herself over to Gideon when he had wrapped her in his arms. She’d felt safe and protected, and it vexed her. She didn’t need a man for that or anything else.
An hour after her close call, Ivy was doing laundry. She had washed the bedding in the kettle kept hot by the fire beneath then rinsed everything in the big pot full of cold water. She focused only on the moment—the warmth of the sun on her neck, wringing water from the sheets.
Walking over to the clothesline that stretched between two posts a few yards away, she hefted the wet bulk of the linens. Tossing the heavy weight over the end of the line, she reached for the sheet on top.
“Let me help you.”
At the sound of Gideon’s voice right behind her, she jumped. Her heart gave a painful kick.
“Sorry.” He ducked under the line to the other side. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It doesn’t take much,” she said wryly.
Thunder bounded up to her, and Ivy bent to scratch behind the pup’s ears.
Studying her, Gideon draped the sheet over the line. “Are you okay? From before, I mean.”
“Yes.” She lifted another piece of bedding. “I stripped your bunk, too.”
He nodded, taking the linen from her and arranging it beside the other piece. “I hung that trap on the wall in the barn. Won’t hurt anybody now.”
“Thank you.” She really didn’t want to talk about this. Dwelling on it chipped away at her resolve not to cry. Drawing in his dark male scent, her gaze wandered to his big hands. He easily managed the unwieldy laundry. Just as easily as he’d handled her after snatching her out of harm’s way.
Despite the size of his hands, his touch had been gentle. Reassuring. Just to be held without being expected to give anything in return had made her want to stay in his arms. That had rattled her almost as badly as the near miss with the trap.
It still did. She needed him gone from here.
“Thanks for your help. I think I’ve got it now.”
“Okay.” He thumbed his hat back, his blue eyes narrowed on her. “You sure?”
“Yes,” she said tersely, then softened her voice. “I’m fine. Really.”
He stooped to pass under the line and stand beside her. “I didn’t find any tracks besides the ones in the woods.”
The reminder of what had happened had her swallowing past a lump in her throat. Tension stretched across her shoulders. She wished he would go before her poise deserted her.
His gaze fixed on her face. “I’ll be in the barn.”
“All right.” She managed a smile, knowing he wouldn’t leave until he believed she was fine.
Finally, he seemed satisfied and walked back the way he’d come, the pup trotting behind. Relieved, she closed her eyes briefly then got back to washing clothes.
Slanting the washboard into the kettle of hot water, Ivy scooped up a handful of soap and began scrubbing her undergarments, corsets first. Each rinsed and wrung-dried piece went into the basket at her feet. It took all her focus to keep her attention strictly on her task, but she refused to let her mind wander.
“Miss Ivy?” This time, Gideon called from farther away.
Her pulse skipped, but she appreciated that he hadn’t waited until he was right on top of her.
He walked up and leaned against the end post, crossing one booted foot over the other. The pup wasn’t with him this time.
“I’m fixin’ to mix whitewash unless there’s something you’d like me to do first.”
“I don’t think so.” She squeezed water out of a petticoat. She knew he hadn’t come to tell her that.
“How’re you doing?”
“I’m okay.” Pinning the petticoat to the clothesline, she tried to temper her tone, but it came out short. “Please don’t be so concerned.”
“All right, then.” He turned and strode across the yard.
She continued working, watching his long, easy gait until he disappeared around the corner of the house.
She did appreciate what he’d done for her and the fact that he cared for her well-being, but having him near made her want to lean on him. She didn’t want to give in to the urge. She wouldn’t.
Just as she pulled the last damp tablecloth out of the basket, she heard an approaching horse.
She draped the linen over the line then moved up the side of the house, reaching the porch as a buggy rolled up to the front. At the sight of the dark-haired couple in the carriage, she smiled. It was Sheriff Farrell and his wife, Meg.
Ivy was always pleased to see her friends, but their arrival also gave her something to focus on besides the trap. And Gideon.
There was no sign of her rescuer. He must have already whitewashed his way around to the other side of the house.
Braking at the fence, Josh hopped out of the buggy and went around to help his wife out.
“Ivy!” Her petite friend hurried through the gate and across the yard toward her.
Badge glinting in the late-morning sunlight, the sheriff looped the buggy reins around the hitching rail and followed his wife. “McCain said you wanted me to come out to the farm.”
Meg gave Ivy a quick hug. “The deputy also told Josh there was a big man with you in town yesterday.”
She nodded. “Gideon Black. He’s a friend of Smith’s.”
Josh stepped around his wife to give Ivy a hug, too. “Why the message? Is something going on?”
“Some strange things have been happening.”
“Like what?” Pushing back his light-colored cowboy hat, the lawman’s black eyes narrowed.
“Well, it started with these poems. At first, I thought they were from a secret admirer.”
“And were they?” Meg’s green eyes lit up.
Ivy sent her friend a look. The other woman had made no secret of wanting Ivy to find another man. She didn’t want another one. “They weren’t lover’s poems. They were...odd.”
Suddenly, her skin prickled. The air changed. She felt Gideon’s presence before she saw him.
Glancing past Josh, Ivy saw her rugged guest round the corner of the fence and head their way. She pulled her gaze from his wide shoulders, the flex of muscle in his powerful thighs. “Then the drawings started appearing.”
“Drawings?” Josh frowned.
Gideon reached the gate and stepped through.
“Pictures of my house,” Ivy explained. “Growing more detailed each time.”
“The inside of your house or the outside?” Josh asked.
Gideon reached them, and Meg turned. So did her husband.
A good three or four inches shorter than Gideon, Josh was brawny, as sturdy as a mountain. Gideon’s gaze dropped to his badge as he moved to Ivy’s side.
Meg smiled, but Josh studied the other man curiously.
Ivy waved a hand. “Josh and Meg Farrell, meet Gideon Black.”
Josh offered his hand and after a slight hesitation, Gideon shook it. He glanced at Ivy. “Did you tell him?”
“I was getting ready to.”
; “Tell me what?”
“Someone tried to hurt her earlier,” Gideon said flatly.
Josh’s gaze sliced to Ivy. “Hurt how?”
“By setting an animal trap,” Gideon answered. “The thing could have taken off her foot.”
“Oh, my,” Meg said.
Josh’s jaw tightened. “How do you know it was for Ivy?”
“It was placed in her path, a spot where she would step down from the back porch.”
“Anyone could step off there.”
“True, but today is Friday. Laundry day. Anyone who’s been watching the house would know that.”
Josh looked at Ivy. “Do you do laundry the same day every week?”
“Yes. I have to keep clean linens for the stage passengers, so I work around the stage schedule.”
Gideon scrubbed a hand down his face. “The trap wasn’t there yesterday.”
Alarm crossed Meg’s gamine features as she turned to Ivy. “What exactly do these drawings show?”
“They’re detailed illustrations of the house, front view only.”
“Except for one,” Gideon said, his deep voice prodding her.
Josh’s brows snapped together.
“That one was a view of my bedroom,” Ivy explained.
“Oh!” Meg squeezed Ivy’s hand.
The sheriff stiffened. “How long has this been going on?”
“A few months.”
“A few months!” Josh exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Until four days ago, I didn’t feel threatened.”
“What happened four days ago?”
Gideon answered in a tight voice. “One of the stage line’s horses was killed. With a knife.”
Meg gasped.
Ivy blinked back tears. “So was Tug.”
“No,” the other woman said softly. “I’m so sorry.”
Josh’s features went stone-hard. “Someone killed your dog?”
“Gideon and I found him a couple of days ago.”
“Knife wound, just like the horse,” he said.
“I want a look,” Josh demanded.
Ivy nodded. “Tug’s buried, but the horse is in a gully on the back side of the west pasture. I’ll show you.”
“I’ll do it,” Gideon said quietly to her. “The stench will be even worse than it was the other day.”
After her close call this morning, Ivy wasn’t sure she had the stomach to see the dead animal again. “All right.”
Meg looped her arm through Ivy’s. “Let’s go inside and talk.”
Ivy didn’t want to talk about nearly getting her foot snapped off. Nor did she want to talk about Gideon, she decided as she saw her friend slide a sideways look at the big man next to Josh.
As Gideon started around her, Ivy touched his arm. “Thanks.”
“Sure.”
* * *
Gideon’s arm burned where she’d put her hand. That same sizzle beneath the skin. The way he’d felt all over when he held her earlier. Realizing he was standing there like a half-wit, he turned to Josh. “The trap’s in the barn. We’ll stop there first.”
The lawman nodded, keeping pace with Gideon as they strode across the thick grass toward the barn.
As he walked into the barn with the sheriff, Gideon recounted the story of where they’d found Ivy’s missing dog and the pup he had protected with his own body. He gestured to the whelp sleeping beside Gideon’s bunk in a crate. Ivy had switched the hay for fabric scraps.
Josh shook his head. “It’s a real shame about Tug. I bet his death hit Ivy hard. She and Tom raised that mutt from a baby.”
“That’s what she said.” Gideon wanted to ask more about Ivy’s husband, but he kept quiet. He didn’t need to know anything so personal. It was none of his business.
Moving past the row of stalls and toward the opposite set of doors, Gideon led the sheriff to the wall where the tack was kept. Bridles, harnesses and bits hung neatly from nails along one wide section.
Josh halted in front of the trap, his eyes widening. He touched the wicked metal teeth of the trap. “Hell, that thing could take down a bear.”
“Yeah.” Gideon clenched his fists then unclenched them.
“Do you have any idea who could be doing this?”
“No, but it’s a man.” He pulled the pieces of broken branch from his trouser pocket, explaining how he’d found the campfire remains in the woods fronting Ivy’s house. “And there’s a tree that provides the exact view of the drawings she received.”
“I want to see those drawings and the place where you found signs of the fire.”
“All right, and on the way to the gully, I’ll show you where the trap was set.”
The sheriff’s mouth tightened in a grim line. “She should’ve told me all of this from the beginning.”
“It started before Christmas. I think the only person she mentioned it to back then was her brother.”
“Confound it!” Josh’s mouth flattened in disapproval as the two men left the barn.
Gideon stopped at the back porch and indicated the spot where he’d found the trap. He could still hear that screeching, brutal snap.
After a moment, he and the other man continued to the back fence. They walked through the gate and past the grazing Holsteins, moving across the rolling pasture toward the gully.
“It’s lucky you showed up when you did.” Farrell glanced over.
“It wasn’t luck. Miss Ivy wired Smith. He couldn’t come, so he sent me.”
“How long have you and Smith been friends?”
“Two years.” Tension coiled through Gideon’s body. If the lawman knew anything about Smith’s past, he would realize where Gideon had met Ivy’s brother.
Josh’s gaze leveled on Gideon, scrutinizing. Heavy.
Yeah, he knew. Spine rigid, Gideon waited, expecting a barrage of questions, wondering if the sheriff would accept that Ivy was being protected by a man who’d done time.
The other man’s gaze fell on the Peacemaker slung low on Gideon’s hip. He hoped Farrell didn’t have a problem with an ex-convict carrying a gun, because he wasn’t going without. Not when he was here to guard Ivy.
The lawman fell silent as they continued past stands of oaks and pines. Once they reached the gully, Gideon followed Farrell down the dirt walls to the bottom. The odor of death and decay hung in the air like a fog, and he jerked his bandanna up to cover his nose and mouth. Even bigger chunks of the horse’s flesh and hide were missing than the last time Gideon had seen the animal.
“Ugh.” Josh pulled his own neckerchief over his nose then knelt.
After examining the animal’s carcass, he stood. “You’re right. Killed with a knife. Long wide blade.”
“Yeah.” Overwhelmed by the stink, Gideon started back up the side of the gully, and the sheriff followed.
Once back on level ground, the other man’s gaze swept the lush pastureland. “Where did you find Tug?”
“Beyond here, next to the river.”
“I’d like to see that place, too.”
“All right.”
Several minutes later, after Josh had seen the tree hollow where Gideon and Ivy had found her dog, the men started back to the house.
“Was it the dog that made you decide there’s a threat to Ivy? Or the trap?”
“Both. The missing chickens and the dead horse affect her business. The dog and the trap are personal.” He stepped around a gopher hole, his anger sparking again. “I asked her if there was anyone who might want the land or just want to cause trouble for her. She said no.”
“You found the campfire remains in the woods that border the road in front of Ivy’s house.”
Gideon nodded.
A thoughtful expression settled on Farrell’s chiseled features. He and Gideon walked through the thick alfalfa and up the hill toward the house. The caw of a crow and the brush of grass against their trousers were the only sounds around them.
Josh glanced over. “That looks like a rope burn around your neck.”
Here came the questions about prison. “It is, of a sort.”
“What sort?”
Hell. He didn’t want to talk about this, but if Farrell decided to find out anything about Gideon, it wouldn’t be difficult for the lawman. “Strips of bed sheets braided into a rope.”
“Prison sheets?”
Gideon tensed.
“Where were you?”
“Leavenworth.”
Josh grimaced. “Why were you in?”
“For murdering a man.”
“You did it?”
“Yes, and it wasn’t in self-defense,” he added before the sheriff could ask.
“Was the man posing a danger to someone else?”
The question took Gideon aback. Smith was the only person who’d ever asked that. “Yes.”
“You served all your time?”
Nerves stretched taut, Gideon gave a short nod.
They passed through the back gate and walked around the house toward the woods beyond.
When the sheriff didn’t ask anything further, Gideon frowned. Was that all the lawman wanted to know? “You ain’t got no more— Do you have more questions?”
“Have you told Ivy about it?”
“Yes.”
“Does she know you killed in defense of someone else?”
“No.” And Gideon didn’t want her to know. The less she knew about him, the better. Still, he couldn’t stop the sheriff from telling her.
Josh considered him as they crossed the road. “Ivy should probably know everything.”
The idea of that wound Gideon tighter than an eight-day watch. “My past is ugly, and it’s done. I don’t want any part of it to touch her. Besides, she has enough to handle with what’s going on.”
“True, but I still think you should consider telling her. Women are funny about things like that.”
Women were funny about a lot of things, thought Gideon. Neither he nor Ivy needed to be tangled up in each other’s lives more than absolutely necessary. He imagined she felt the same.