by Linda Broday
His spurs rattling, Ridge stooped to pick up his wanted poster. The headline screamed, WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE—$3,000!
Damn, the price for his capture had risen. He tried to fold it and put it away before Addie saw it, but he wasn’t fast enough. She caught a glimpse before he stuffed it in his pocket. Dammit! Surprising him, she placed her palm against his chest over his heart and drew a circle.
“Addie girl, I still doubt the wisdom of marrying you, but I can no more send you away than stop breathing, and I hate myself for my weakness.” He wrapped her in his arms, and she snuggled into the folds of his shirt.
When they broke apart, she helped him get Bodie onto the gray mare belonging to the bounty hunters, then accepted a boost onto her buckskin. Wordlessly, Addie had made her feelings plain. For better or worse, they were in this together—for however long they lived.
Worry niggled in Ridge’s brain.
The bounty hunter knew where he was, and he’d be back. Logic said he probably wouldn’t come alone.
* * *
Dr. Mary was the first to see them ride into Hope’s Crossing and came running, followed by Clay and Jack. Careful of his wound, Ridge dismounted, then lifted Addie down. He scanned the size of the growing crowd of curious onlookers. “The boy needs to be seen to, Doc. I’ll be by later.”
The petite woman of medicine wore her customary bullet necklace, made from slugs she’d removed from patients. They clinked together with each movement. “Let’s go, kid. I’ll patch you up.”
“His name’s Bodie Nix,” Ridge called after them.
“I expect to see you at the hospital too, when you finish talking,” the doc shot back.
Hell!
“What happened?” Jack asked, the tin sheriff’s badge pinned to his shirt reflecting the sunlight.
“Addie and I went for a ride over our property to try out new mounts.” Ridge gave them a quick rundown of the encounter with the bounty hunters. “The dead man there recognized me, and they started shooting. I killed this one, but the other got to his horse and hightailed it. I put a bullet in his thigh but don’t think I hit him anywhere else.”
Clay took a drag from his cigarette. “Dammit to hell!”
“I know. Just when we start to get comfortable, lawmen or bounty hunters find one of us,” Ridge agreed.
Jack shot a gaze to the sole entrance to town, and Ridge could easily imagine the string of cusswords running through Jack’s head. They were in his too.
“That’s the problem,” Jack grated out. “We’ve gotten too damn comfortable. Counting you, we still have at least half a dozen wanted men here, and that’s only the ones I know. Others don’t talk about their pasts, so we might never know until it’s too late.”
“This changes things.” Clay threw his cigarette to the dirt and ground it out with the toe of his boot. “We need to call a town meeting—tonight. We have matters to discuss that affect us all.”
“I agree. Until then, Addie and I need to get something to eat and check on the kid.” Ridge gathered the horses’ reins.
“What are we going to do with the boy?” Clay asked.
“I found him. I’ll take him in.” Ridge glanced toward the small hospital awash in the afternoon sunlight. “Besides, I have to hire someone to stay on the property with Addie now anyway. I’m generally gone in the daytime, and I won’t leave her alone. Not with that bounty hunter around.” And the men likely still scouring the countryside for her. They’d find her sooner or later.
The urge to ride out in search of them was hard to suppress. He needed time.
Addie’s small palm slid inside Ridge’s hand, and surprise rippled through him that she’d evidently put his angry outburst behind her. He wished with all his heart that she hadn’t witnessed his rage, wished that his soul wasn’t stained beyond redemption. She should be scared spitless of him now, so why was she so calm? A delayed reaction? He sighed. Someone should’ve given him a book on women. It would sure help to know what she thought about things.
Hell!
“I’ll bury the dead man where no one will find him.” Jack took the reins of the horse from Ridge. “I saw the boy’s bruises. How bad are his injuries?”
“His leg took the brunt. Bodie said they hit him over and over, so he couldn’t run. He has trouble even walking now. Probably have a limp for a while.” Ridge’s anger flared up again.
“I’m glad you shot this bastard, and the other too. Hope his wound is painful.” Clay spat.
Ridge glanced down into Addie’s pretty green eyes. Her pert nod said she agreed with Clay. She was a funny combination of frightened and fierce. If she ever got the hang of shooting straight, she’d be a force to reckon with.
If she had the time for them to find out. There was no way to know just yet how bad this would go, and what kind of trouble he’d brought the people of Hope’s Crossing.
Eight
Unbuckling his spurs, Ridge stepped into the doctor’s three-bed hospital with Addie at his side. Though he tried to be quiet, his bootheels made the racket of a dozen hammers on the wooden floor. Bodie lay on one of two beds, battered and bruised, his eyes closed. The kid didn’t stir at the noise.
Dr. Mary appeared through a curtained doorway. “Now let’s take a look at you.” She motioned him toward a table. “Hop up.”
He glared. “I’m not a trained dog.”
“You can all stand to be trained, Ridge Steele, don’t think you can’t,” snapped the doctor. “I’m tired of patching you men up and sending you back out there, only to see my good work undone. I’ve had to start a new bullet necklace thanks to you all.” She removed his shirt and prodded the wound.
“Ow! Gives you something to do besides complain,” he shot back. “Where did you learn your bedside manner? Embalming school?”
“Shush! I know how to hurt you.”
Addie put a hand over her mouth, her eyes dancing, evidently enjoying the sparring. Ridge winked at her.
“How’s the kid?” he asked Dr. Mary.
“Poor thing’s exhausted, and his leg will need rest. It’s badly bruised and may have a small fracture but should be okay if he keeps off of it until it heals.” She narrowed her eyes at him and puffed on the cigar tucked in the corner of her mouth. “I hope that dead man you toted in was the one who did it.”
“He was one of them. I also shot the second one but not sure how bad. He got away.”
“Hmph! Maybe he’ll show up in town, and I’ll get a shot at him myself. I’d like to make him pay for what he did to that poor, half-grown boy. I’m keeping Bodie overnight, and you can pick him up tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” Ridge glanced at Addie sitting beside him. “I’m going to hire him to stay with my wife during the day while I work. He seems like a decent kid. Just needs a break.” If Ridge’s hunch was right, Bodie would fit right in with the folks in Hope’s Crossing. Every one of them could use a good helping of luck. And a hand up.
* * *
Addie and Ridge took supper that evening at the Blue Goose Café. Ridge was quiet and in a strange mood during the meal. He still seemed furious with himself over the shoot-out with the bounty hunters. They’d given him no choice, but even so, having to kill one of them had obviously affected him deeply. She’d seen his anguish, heard his angry words, and didn’t stand in judgment. She couldn’t find it in herself to be angry at the words he’d flung at her. From all appearances, Ridge seemed to be living life as best he could in an impossible situation—even when trouble found him.
Once they’d eaten, they walked to the church where folks had gathered for the town meeting. Addie took a seat near the back, wondering what decisions they’d make. The setting sun required the lighting of lamps, and they flickered along the walls like a hundred fireflies.
Unlike New Zion, no one had forced them to attend. Odd that it was standing room only.
<
br /> Ridge, looking every bit a man of authority, strode to the pulpit. “Thank you all for coming. A situation has developed that you should all be made aware of, and we have some decisions to make.” He told them about the bounty hunters and the exchange of gunfire. “One got away. I don’t know how bad off he is, but my gut says he’ll be back.”
Loud murmurs rose among the crowd. One man jumped to his feet and shook a fist. “If he comes back here, he’ll find more of the same! We want to be left in peace to make a living and raise our families.”
“That’s what we all want,” Ridge agreed. “But this land is changing, and lawmen are becoming more and more plentiful. It’s a dangerous time for men like us. We’ve talked before about opening the back entrance to town, and now we need to hear your thoughts on the matter. More and more people are coming to settle, good people who want to make a difference here. We can’t grow if we stay closed off.”
“We might not have a town to grow if the law has its way!” shouted a man several rows up.
These people were scared of losing everything they had. Addie’s heart went out to them. Their determination and strength to keep their life here impressed her. An unkempt woman with short, wild hair crept into the church, scanning the crowd, looking for a seat. Addie scooted over to make room, and the newcomer sat beside her.
Clay walked to Ridge and whispered something.
The assembly had gotten loud. Ridge tried to speak over the noise and finally had to bang on the pulpit with his fist for attention. “Clay’s just reminded me that we’ll soon have a bank, and the banker’s set to arrive next month. The gentleman could pull out if he finds the town closed. This might play a part in your decision, so think about that.”
The woman next to Addie muttered under her breath, “You’ll regret opening up the back entrance, mark my words.”
Jack came forward, his badge winking under the lights. “I’d like to say something.” He turned to face them. “Folks, we’ve been real lucky so far. Those with the most to lose should have the loudest voice, not me and others who’ve obtained pardons for our crimes. But I bought in to Clay’s crazy idea to build a town here because I sought a better life than being on the run. We’ve fought tooth and toenail for that dream, fought for all of you. Sooner or later, it’ll be time to lay down our guns. That time might be now.”
“What are you talking about?” The speaker was the big fiddle player, Dallas Hawk. Gray streaked his dark beard, and red mottled his puffy cheeks.
“I’m saying that it might not be good to act like we’re hiding something. Bounty hunters and lawmen will start breathing down our necks more than ever. If we open up the town and go about our business, show them we’re law-abiding, they might stop sniffing around and leave us alone.”
Except that Ridge had a price on his head that would appeal to a lot of desperate men, law-abiding now or not. Addie picked at the edge of her shawl.
A man wearing red suspenders got to his feet and drawled, “Jack, I seem to recall a time when you dyed your hair blond to throw a posse off your scent.”
Everyone chuckled.
“That’s true, Horace, I did,” Jack admitted.
“Trouble is, that bounty hunter has already seen Ridge,” Red Suspenders continued. “He knows to come here, and no hair dye’s going to throw him off the scent this time. I vote we keep the back entrance closed, just the way it is.”
“Damn right,” the woman beside her murmured. “We don’t want bounty hunters here.”
“I’ll turn this meeting back over to Ridge.” Jack sat.
Ridge took Jack’s place. “Okay, folks. I think it’s time to vote. Raise your hand if you want to keep the back entrance to town closed.” Almost every single person raised their hand.
“It’s unanimous. We’ll leave it closed.” Ridge nodded to Clay. “Now, one more order of business. Do we post a guard at the entrance to town as we’ve had to do in the past?” Again, almost every hand went up. Addie smiled. She liked how democratic these people were. It was so very different from her community, where one crazed man made all the decisions.
“I think we have a majority. I’ll get with Clay and Jack to make up a list of days and times for each man’s slot, and we’ll post it tomorrow.” Ridge moved through the crowd toward Addie but kept getting stopped by folks who needed a word.
The woman next to her rose. “Mrs. Steele, welcome to Hope’s Crossing. My name is Eleanor Crump. I’ve heard about you and know you can’t speak, so don’t you worry. I’d like to come visit sometime just to sit, if that’s all right.”
Addie nodded and squeezed Eleanor’s hand before the woman turned and slipped out into the twilight.
Rebel Lassiter approached Addie next, with a tall, blue-eyed man by her side. “I’m happy to see you, Addie. This is my husband, Travis.”
The cleft in Travis’s chin deepened with his smile, and his eyes sparkled. “Mrs. Steele, you’ve got a good man in Ridge. I don’t know what this town would do without him. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate. Rebel and I will help you, day or night.”
Addie immediately liked Travis, who seemed to be cut from the same cloth as Ridge. She returned his smile and nodded. He appeared to know about her inability to speak, probably from Rebel, so she didn’t feel as uncomfortable as usual.
Rebel glanced at the door, her eyes sad. “I was happy to see Eleanor Crump talking to you. We all need each other here in order to survive. The poor recluse kept herself separate from us until last Christmas. Since then, she seems to be making an effort to fit in more. Maybe she feels a kinship with you.”
Perhaps. But why? Addie didn’t know anything else to do but nod as the heat of embarrassment rose over not being able to utter a word. Ridge finally made it to her side, saving her from feeling like a dunce. He took her arm. “Let’s go home.”
The cool August breeze was welcome on her face as she rode horseback beside her husband. Dr. Mary had bandaged his upper arm and sent him away with instructions to keep it clean and wrapped. The bullet had passed through the soft tissue and would cause no harm as long as Ridge let her keep the ointment and clean gauze on it. But he was a stubborn one and Addie knew she had her work cut out for her.
Several times that day, it had crossed her mind to wonder what she’d do if Ridge died. Truth was, she didn’t have any good ideas beyond continuing to live in Hope’s Crossing. But despite the kindnesses she’d been offered so far, she couldn’t be sure that anyone would lend a hand when trouble came.
And it would.
Ezekiel Jancy’s reach was long. He would find her eventually. And then? An icy shudder raced the length of her body. He’d first haul her back for a whipping in front of the town. To save face and keep control over his followers, he really could do no less. Then…
Oh God! The spit in her mouth dried. She was on a collision course with a madman.
Her mother would be no help. She was weak and shrank further inside herself with each passing year. If Ezekiel got his hands on Addie and dragged her from the town, she’d have no hope for survival.
They arrived at the house, silent and still, and rode around to the barn where Ridge dismounted and lit a lantern. He placed his hands around her waist and lifted her down as though she weighed nothing.
“Here we are.”
Addie glanced up. His collarless shirt hung open at his throat, exposing the thick muscles of his neck. A single bead of sweat poised on his skin, then trickled down to pool in the hollow space between his collarbones. She yearned to brush it away but couldn’t, yearned to kiss him, yearned to be whole, but she hadn’t decided fully if he was the kind of man she could bank her life on. Their fight stood between them, and she still felt his anger, even though most of it had been directed at himself. Next time, God forbid, she’d try to follow his instructions.
His deep voice came thick and quiet. “Addie, I’m
sorry for yelling at you at the creek. Not my finest hour.”
Ridge’s large frame, his strength, made her feel small against him. She rested a palm on his chest. Oh, to be able to speak and say she forgave him and understood far more than he thought.
“I wish you could holler and give me the tongue-lashing I deserve. Maybe one day.” Sadness in his amber eyes broke her heart. “Let’s get you into the house. I’ll light the lamps and check the shadows before I unsaddle the horses.”
As they walked toward the back door, Ridge put an arm around her as though it was the most normal thing in the world. But it was too soon to think that way.
Ridge’s voice was raspy when he spoke again. “I meant to tell you…I have an account at the mercantile. Get whatever you want and charge it. I pay the bill at the end of each month.”
She nodded and went in the house. While he lit the lamps in the kitchen, she grabbed her paper and scribbled, “Do we have money?”
He laughed. “I make a good living selling land. I’m not rich, but I do okay.”
“You don’t rob, like some outlaws?” She cringed at the way that had shot out onto paper. Too bold and nosy. But she was supposed to be sharing his life, wasn’t she?
“No. I’ve done a lot of things, but I don’t steal.”
Miss Kitty and Squeakers strolled imperiously into the kitchen. Addie picked up the furry baby while the mama swished against Ridge’s pant leg.
“What are you wanted for?” She kicked herself for not looking closer at the wanted poster when she’d had the chance…or maybe she hadn’t really wanted to know.
The lines of Ridge’s face hardened, and his voice turned cold. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
The door closed behind him, and she was left standing in silence, cursing her curiosity. Ridge had a right to hold back, just as she did at this point in their relationship. It was too soon to probe each other’s deep, festering wounds. Once they got on solid ground, there’d be time enough for that.
Her gaze caught on the cobbler that Rebel Lassiter had brought that morning, sitting untouched on the table. She hadn’t even told Ridge about it. Getting a kitchen towel from a drawer, she covered it, then moved to the parlor to wait for his return.