by Linda Broday
They talked some about their children, then Nora changed the conversation. “I have an exciting announcement.”
“You’re in the family way again.” Tally reached for a cookie.
“Tally Colby!” Melanie exclaimed, her mouth full. “Just because I am doesn’t mean Nora has to be.”
“Well—” Tally gave an innocent shrug.
“Good heavens, no!” Nora chuckled. “I have my hands much too full right now.”
Tally bit into a raisin cookie. “Just stop with the suspense and tell us.”
“For the last six months, Jack has been studying law. He’s now an apprentice under attorney Bernard Taggart in Canadian. When his apprenticeship is up, he’ll make the trip to Austin to take the bar exam.” Nora beamed. “I’m so proud of him.”
Addie scribbled “congratulations” on her paper. She might have need for a good attorney. Yes, this was great news—for her and the town. She hoped Ridge hadn’t yet heard so she could tell him at lunch. Her stomach quickened.
Tally placed her cookie on a small plate in front of her and clapped. “That’s excellent, Nora! How did you manage to keep the secret? I’d have been bursting to tell someone.”
“That’s the thing, you’ll never guess what went through my mind when he kept mysteriously disappearing for hours at a time and missing meals. He became very absentminded, and I imagined the worst.”
“You thought he didn’t love you anymore.”
“Exactly. I thought he was sneaking around and seeing another woman right under my nose. I was furious and ready to pack the kids up and leave.” Nora laughed. “So I decided to follow him, and he caught me.”
Addie’s heart stopped, and she looked closer for bruises but saw none. Mistrust and trailing a husband would surely earn a beating, but Nora seemed unharmed. Even happy.
“Let me guess. He came clean, and you made love.” Tally grinned.
Nora’s laughter bubbled over. “I declare, Tally, you must be able to read minds.”
“Nope, I just know how you two lovebirds are. But Melanie and Tait are far worse. They can’t keep their hands off each other.”
“Hey, we can’t help it,” Melanie protested.
“Wasn’t Jack angry that you misjudged him?” Addie wrote.
“Maybe a little at first, but I have my ways of putting him in a good humor.” Nora’s eyes twinkled at what was surely the memory.
Tally lifted her teacup. “I’ll just bet you do, my friend.”
The differences between these two and the pinched faces of the women of New Zion again became glaring.
Addie relaxed and let the warmth in the room fill her.
The women compared notes on their children before taking pity on Addie and changing the subject.
“I need to go check on Willow and Dillon. They’re too quiet. I’ll just be a moment.” Nora came back laughing, holding two string-wrapped children by the hands. “Sawyer and his friends were making kites and left their supplies out.”
“Oh dear Lord!” Tally jumped up to help untangle the sheepish pair.
When they came back to the table, Nora refilled their cups. “We need to get started on the plans for the dance.”
“Let’s set it for two weeks from today,” Tally suggested.
Nora glanced at a calendar lying on the table. “The first Saturday in September would make it on the second.”
“It could double as a harvest dance,” Addie wrote. “We could use all sorts of fall decorations, and it would be fun.”
Melanie grinned. “Thanks, Adeline. That’s using your head, and I agree.”
“Please call me Addie. Ridge does, and I like it.”
“Indeed.” Nora’s brown eyes twinkled. “That Ridge is very quick on his feet.”
Addie grinned and was relieved when the conversation returned to the dance.
They discussed who would be in charge of refreshments, and Tally took that. Addie volunteered to do the decorations, and Nora the hay bales for seating around the dance floor, which Addie learned was built by the bigger kids.
The time snuck up on Addie, and she was startled when she looked at the clock. “I need to go,” she scribbled and pushed her chair back.
Her pulse raced as she left the Bowdre house. Ridge would be surprised at all she had to tell him. And she’d sit there and stare at his kissable mouth and whiskey-colored eyes like some besotted schoolgirl.
* * *
Ridge digested the news that Jack was now a law apprentice, wondering why his friend had kept quiet. Jack had always been smart, though, especially about the law. They could use a man like that.
Addie sat across from him, looking prettier than a dew-kissed sunrise after a storm. Light flooded through the café windows, creating a circle around her, and cavorted in her golden hair. She seemed different somehow. Comfortable, confident, relaxed.
“I’m in charge of the decorations for the harvest dance, first Saturday of September. Any suggestions?”
That she would volunteer for anything floored him, but nothing made him happier than to see her getting involved in the town.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Ridge pushed back his plate. “I can get you all the corn cobs you want, stalks too. I think the pumpkins are ready, and I know where you can find oodles of gourds and rocks.”
“I can sew some festive bunting to hang from the storefronts, paint the rocks real pretty in orange, yellow, and red. And maybe have lots of streamers everywhere. What do you think about hanging lanterns around for lighting?”
“Nothing to hang them on, since the dance will be outdoors. But you can set them on things.” Ridge covered her hand with his. “Lady, you amaze me. You’re in a strange place, a strange house, with people you don’t know—a husband you’re just learning—and you’re flourishing.”
“I’m nothing special.”
He barked a laugh. “Addie, my love, you just don’t realize. I wish you could see yourself as I do.” Color rose to her cheeks. Discomfort apparent, he changed the subject. “What else did you do this morning? Paint the windmill, teach all the children Spanish, build a library while I was out trying to sell some measly land?”
“Stop teasing.” She laid down her pencil and met his gaze.
“I’m sorry. I’m just happy to see you blossoming.” He sobered and announced that he’d sold the property he’d shown that morning, and she saluted him like a soldier to a general. He reached for her hand and brought her fingertips to his lips, kissing them. Who needed words to carry on a conversation?
They shared a moment of comfortable silence, just like a normal married couple. Then she wrote: “I went to visit Eleanor Crump.”
Of everything, this was possibly the most surprising piece of news. “Oh, you did. How did it go?”
“Eleanor said she was once like me but didn’t explain how. But she understands me, Ridge. We just sat and held hands, and I felt an enormous peace come over me. I’ve never known anything like that. Eleanor seemed to sense what I went through.”
“That’s pretty incredible. I’m glad you went to see her—you could both use the friendship. She seems to be awfully lonely. Rebel had no luck trying to get her to socialize.”
“You know nothing about her?”
“Only that she was once married to a notorious outlaw, and he was killed by a posse.”
“Recently?”
“No, probably ten years ago or more. Way before my arrival.”
Addie must have worried, or still did, that he’d meet a similar fate, and that was a grief he didn’t want to saddle his wife with. At the same time, he couldn’t do anything about his fate. He just prayed when the bullet came, Addie would be far, far away.
Other than that, he wouldn’t pray for anything else. His prayers had dried up just like his soul.
Twelve
&
nbsp; Ridge saw Addie home, then took Bodie aside. “Stay close and keep your eyes open. That bounty hunter is lurking around. I can smell him.”
Bodie’s gaze never wavered, the kid showing neither fear nor surprise. “Figured as much. I thought I saw something last night in the dark but couldn’t be sure, so didn’t say anything. By the time I got out to the yard, he was gone. He could’ve taken me at any time.”
“You’re not the one he wants. It’s the three thousand dollars I can fetch him.” And Hiram wouldn’t leave without Ridge. For the first time, he regretted moving away from the safety of the town. Dammit! One bad decision could cost him everything.
“That’s a lot of money, but you don’t have to worry about me.” Bodie stared toward the house.
“I know. Tell Addie to keep the doors locked. Hiram might try to get to me through her.”
“I s’pect so, only she said something about spending time with King. She won’t stand to be locked in the house. She loves that horse.”
“Yep. If you can’t talk her out of it, stay right with her and keep that rifle handy.” Ridge released a low curse and strode to his sorrel, his spurs clinking with each step. He climbed into the saddle. “Don’t let anything happen to her. Let’s go, Cob. We got us a rabid wolf to find.”
He checked ravines, gullies, and creeks within a five-mile radius around Hope’s Crossing and found nothing. Maybe he was wrong, and Hiram had ridden on. Maybe his wound had gotten bad, and he’d gone to find a doctor.
Ridge was about to give up the search when he recalled an old adobe house ten miles away. A shepherd had lived there once, but the place had long since crumbled and fallen in. Maybe Hiram had taken refuge there.
The warm afternoon sun beat down, and Ridge kept wiping sweat from his face. A mile from the place, he slowed to a walk to keep the noise to a minimum. His senses sharpened to a fine edge. Every swish of the breeze in the tall grass whispered a warning. The beating wings of a fly that buzzed around his head sounded like a beehive. He jumped at the call of a nighthawk that nested on the ground somewhere ahead. Cob snorted and blinked as the pesky fly found a new target.
Ridge scanned the waving grass, tall enough to easily hide a man on his belly.
The hair rose on his neck. Someone was watching.
As he threw his leg over to dismount, a shot rang out. Ridge ducked and slapped Cob on the rear to send the gelding away from the gunfire, then fell onto his belly, jerking out his Colt on the way down. He lay motionless, his heart thudding against his ribs. His mouth dried until he could no more make spit than fly. Inch by agonizing inch, he slowly reached down and unbuckled his noisy spurs, then got rid of the hat that would give him away.
For a moment, he studied the situation, taking in the rocks and brush, then inched forward. A covey of startled quail rose from the tangled brush. Dammit! That gave away his location!
A second shot followed, the slug hitting the ground in front of him, spitting dirt in his face. This time, Ridge had seen the shooter—or at least the general vicinity of his hiding place. The bullet had come from a high ridge on the left, giving the man a distinct advantage. Still, the cowardly bastard was relying on a handgun, not the accuracy of a rifle.
Ridge didn’t return fire. He wouldn’t waste ammunition until he had a clear target. He gauged the distance to a stand of cedar trees, then stood and made a run for them. Bullets sprayed around him, but none hit. Once surrounded by the thick, leafy shield of the cedar, he breathed easier. He peered through the branches, saw movement, and squeezed the trigger.
A slew of cusswords broke the silence, telling Ridge he’d at least grazed the assailant. Good.
Ridge sprinted to a group of sandstone boulders, and from there to a stand of mesquite. Taking his time, eyes on every flutter of movement, he tightened the net until he finally reached the bottom of the rocky ridge. But as he began the climb to the man’s perch, loose rocks showered down on him. A moment later, a rider emerged from thick growth and galloped away, lying flat against his mount’s long neck.
Ridge took aim and fired a volley of shots, but the man kept riding. Ridge scrambled down to the floor of the ravine again, but by the time he found Cob, the rider had vanished. Ridge returned the Colt to his holster and swung into the saddle, continuing on to the adobe ruins.
The place stood silent in the waning afternoon light. An owl perched on what little was left of the roof. Ridge took note of the disturbed spiderwebs and went inside. The cold ashes of a campfire, bones of a small animal, and remains of a tobacco pouch and cigarettes told him someone had stayed there. Probably for more than one night. He couldn’t be certain it had been Hiram, but it made sense that the squatter had been the bounty hunter.
Ridge had him on the run again, but he wouldn’t be satisfied until he finished this fight.
His, Addie’s, and Bodie’s lives depended on it.
* * *
Addie gathered her broom and dust cloths and went upstairs. It was time to tackle the part of the house she’d avoided, and it was clear Ridge didn’t consider cleaning his priority. The dirt would probably be thick enough to grow turnips before he paid it any mind. Thank goodness he’d gone looking for a wife. In Addie’s experience, wives were the only ones who kept husbands from falling into total dust disasters.
It took her a moment to throw off the feeling of trespassing into his sanctuary as she stepped into the bedroom. She didn’t belong here where he undressed and slept, where he kept his private things. She called herself three kinds of crazy and reminded her feeble brain he was her husband. Addie jerked up the rug and took it outside to beat, then went to work on the dust that had gathered on the furniture other than the bed.
Intent on getting the work done as fast as possible, she lifted a small wooden box that sat on top of the tall chest of drawers, and a tintype dropped to the floor. She reached for the picture, her breath catching at the sight of the couple staring up at her.
It was Ridge and a pretty woman in a fancy dress and hat. Addie scowled at the way his arm was tight around the lady, who was practically sitting in his lap. They were smiling and happy, much too cozy for a mere acquaintance. She had to be a wife or a fiancée. Why hadn’t Ridge mentioned her?
After staring at the couple as though she could force the tintype to give her some answers, she put it back exactly as it had been, under the small box, and hurried to finish and leave the room. But the picture haunted her.
How could she ask Ridge about it without making him think she’d been snooping? No answer came to mind.
Finally, she changed into the denim trousers she’d gotten at the mercantile. The legs were too long, and the waist swallowed hers, but she loved the freedom, the comfort. She wasn’t sure if she’d wear them in town like Rebel did, doubted she had that much courage. Or even to wear them in front of Ridge! His warm chuckle when she’d laid them atop their purchases at the mercantile still brought heat to her face. Maybe she’d try them when he wasn’t around.
She removed the trousers and set to work on alterations. Bodie kept coming in to check on her as she hemmed the trousers, and the third time she finally asked him what was going on.
“I don’t think Ridge wants you to know.” Bodie glanced down at his feet.
Wants? She didn’t care two hoots what Ridge wanted. This was her life. She snatched up her paper. “Tell me. If there’s danger, I have a right to know.”
“Probably so, ma’am.” Bodie hesitated a second longer. “He found tracks the other day. Ones that led right up to the house, where someone sat outside the window and watched.”
Chills raced up her spine, and she gripped the arm of the chair, felt the color draining from her face. Whoever it was had watched her. Nothing unnerved her quite like having eyes following her every move. Just like in New Zion.
“Are you all right, ma’am?”
Slow anger built. “How long ha
ve you known about this?”
“Only since morning.”
A strange kind of calm came over her. She laid aside her sewing. “Where is Ridge?”
“He rode out to search.”
And he hadn’t said a word. Not one. Other than Bodie telling her to keep the doors locked, she’d never had so much as a hint that danger had been right outside their windows. Bodie kept avoiding her eyes, and she felt guilty. It wasn’t the boy’s fault, and directing her anger onto him would be unfair.
She scribbled. “Thank you for telling me. You can go back to whatever you were doing.”
Bodie wore a look of relief. “Gladly, ma’am.”
Addie went to cook supper, biding time, her anger simmering until the keeper of secrets rode in. She wrote out her note and waited.
At last she heard him and hurried out.
He was unsaddling Cob and glanced up when she joined him in the yard. “Addie, everything okay?”
She slapped her note to the middle of his broad chest with her question, “Why didn’t you tell me about the bounty hunter stalking us?”
“Because I didn’t want to worry you. All right? So shoot me. You have enough on your mind at the moment.”
“I have a right to know if I’m in danger.”
“Of course, you do, and I’ll tell you when I have something solid.”
“You’re treating me like a child. Stop. I’m a grown woman, and I deserve to have your full consideration.”
Ridge pushed back his hat, and a nearby lantern revealed the anger creasing his face. “Look, I haven’t actually seen the man, only evidence a trespasser left behind. I think it was the bounty hunter, but if so, he’s after me, not you.”
His spurs jangled each time he moved, seeming loud in the stillness.
“But it could be the men hunting me. Either way, you should’ve told me.” She jabbed a pointed finger into his chest.
His irritation built, deepening the lines, and something else was there…hurt? He dragged the evening air into his lungs. “I vowed to protect you, and I mean to keep that promise. What would you have done differently if you’d’ve known? What?”