Dorothy Garlock (27 page)

“I still don’t understand why Eli doesn’t simply send for a nurse to care for his mother,” Seth said, his intent only to raise Fawn’s ire, “have someone live there at the ranch until she is well.”

“That’s the problem,” Fawn answered curtly.

“What are you talking about?”

“The reason that we are going to the ranch is because of the incompetence of the women who are currently doing the job,” she huffed.

“What women?” Seth asked. “Are you telling me that there are already women tending Mrs. Morgan?”

“There are three of them. Three women that Eli and his uncle managed to rescue from that horrendous storm we had a week or so back,” Fawn explained, her lip curling into a sneer. “One of them traveled into town with Eli a couple of days ago. It was from her that I learned Mrs. Morgan had been injured.”

As he listened intently, Seth realized that his plans had now been complicated. If there were more people staying at the ranch, there were more eyes that must be accounted for if he were to go through with his plans. Still, it was far too late for him to turn back now. Regardless of the added complications, he had to go forward . . .
he must.

“Who are these women? Where did they come from?” he pressed, hoping to learn something, anything that might make his grim task easier.

“I don’t know much about them except their names, but they all seem pretty low class,” Fawn said. “The one that came to town with Eli was named Hallie . . . Hallie Wolcott.”

Suddenly, a man who had been crossing before them on the boardwalk came to an abrupt halt, standing ramrod straight as if he had been shot. Unable to take a step to avoid the man, Seth shouldered into the stranger, the hard collision bringing with it the sickly sweet stench of sweat mixed with whiskey.

“Why in the hell don’t you watch where you’re going?” Seth barked, briskly wiping away the perceived stink and grime that he’d received by coming into contact with the man’s shoulder. “What kind of darned fool just stops in the middle of the walk?”

“Watch who yer talkin’ to.”

For the briefest of moments, Seth saw the white-hot flame of rage flash in the man’s eyes. A blade of fear lanced across his gut that he’d bitten off more than he could chew, that the man would quickly pull a knife or a gun and strike him down without a sound. But, as fast as the stranger’s anger had flared, it disappeared, replaced by a smile through dirty crags of teeth.

“Beg your pardon, sir,” the man recovered, the anger draining from his voice. “I’m new in these here parts and ain’t quite sure where I’m at, let alone where I’m headed. If’n you could point me toward the nearest saloon, I’d be obliged.”

A few passersby had turned to witness the possible violence on the busy boardwalk but now went away disappointed. While inwardly Seth felt a sense of relief, his voice wasn’t willing to concede that fact.

“It’s that way.” He pointed. “Next time, watch where you’re going!”

“Yes, sir,” the filthy stranger answered before shuffling away.

“That man could have had a knife,” Fawn commented when the man was out of earshot, voicing the concern that had gripped Seth only moments before. “You could have been hurt.”

“Nonsense,” he said casually. “Now then, let us be on our way.”

The last fragments of fear vanished from Seth as he herded Fawn along the boardwalk and toward their wagon. Replacing them were visions of a bullet entering Eli’s stomach, of Fawn weeping in his arms, and the name “McCarty Bank” on the lips of every man and woman in town.

Chester stopped to watch the well-dressed man and his woman walk away from him, completely unaware how lucky they both were not to have had their throats slit. Hatred had been the only thing capable of making him endure the man’s tongue-lashing, hatred and a desire for revenge that grew brighter and hotter than the summer sun above.

He’d only been in town for an hour or so, meandering around among the men and women doing their shopping, selling their wares, and simply going about their lives. Everywhere he had gone, he’d kept his head down, his ears open, and one eye cocked for something, anything that could lead him to that which he desired.

And his patience had paid off.

At the mention of Hallie Wolcott’s name, he had frozen. It had sounded as clear to his ears as a church bell and had commanded his attention, his knees locking, freezing him where he stood. It was then that the rich bastard had slammed into him, launching into a tirade and making a scene.

I’ve killed men for less
, he’d thought.

But just when his tongue had begun to get the better of him, he’d managed to hold it, and recognized the pair for what they were:
a one-way ticket to Mary.
From there, it had been easy to bear the man’s words, secure in the knowledge that they would lead him right where he wanted to go.

Waiting until he was certain the pair was far enough along not to notice him, Chester stepped from the boardwalk and began to follow them, weaving in and out of the throngs of people, a warmth spreading in his gut in anticipation of the fruits of his labors.

“I’m comin’, bitches,” he muttered to himself. “Chester is comin’.”

Chapter Twenty-five

T
HE MORNING CHORES
had been done, a hearty breakfast cooked with plates cleaned, and the laundry begun when Hallie stepped out onto the long porch for a bit of a breather. The sky was a crystal-clear blue with only the wispiest of clouds stretching across the far horizon. For once, the air was cooler, a spring day lost in the months of summer.

“Perfect,” she said to herself, unable to stop smiling.

Memories of making love to Eli had meandered across her thoughts for all the morning, bringing with them a flood of emotions—happiness and a strong desire—which filled her with a joy she had never before known. When he had finally left her alone in the barn, she’d stayed awake for hours, unable and unwilling to let herself sleep, reveling in the feelings he had inspired in her. Her image of him was so strong, so real, that she would have sworn that she could have reached a hand to them and touched his whiskered cheek.

“Ain’t you the happy one this mornin’.”

Turning slowly, Hallie beamed brightly at Pearl as she joined her on the long porch, her friend sidling up to her, putting one hand around her waist, and giving her a knowing wink.

“I suppose you’d have to be blind not to notice.”

“Even a blind man would feel the heat comin’ off you like a fire!”

When Pearl had finally returned to their bedding in the barn, nearly an hour after Eli had left—time that Hallie knew had been given on purpose—they said nothing about what had happened. But Hallie was certain that her friend
knew
without being told; Pearl Parsons was not ignorant of the ways of love!

“He makes you happy, don’t he?” Pearl asked.

“He does,” Hallie admitted. “He certainly does.”

“Then listen close to this old bird,” Pearl began, her eyes dancing with the glint of experience. “You cling to that there feelin’ like it’s the only thing in this here world that’s keepin’ you afloat. You don’t never let it go ’less you ain’t got a choice, ’cause if you do, you might never find your way back to it, no matter how hard you try!”

Hallie nodded in agreement. Meeting Eli Morgan had forever changed her life; from that fateful night by the flooded river, it had been her heart that had become swollen, overflowing its banks, and nearly drowning her. In his presence, all her worries blew away like so much smoke; thoughts of Chester, the strange man at the mercantile, and even her worries about what had befallen Eli in the cemetery faded in the face of their passion. It was a feeling that she never wanted to end.

“I won’t let go,” she said, “no matter what happens.”

“That’s the spirit!”

“But what about you, Pearl?” Hallie asked. “Haven’t you found something worth holding on to?”

“I reckon I might’ve.” Pearl grinned, her interest in Hank nearly as clear as the blue in the sky or the blush of her cheeks. “It ain’t quite as certain as what’s happenin’ to you, but I ain’t gonna be complainin’ no time soon, neither!”

“Kissing him might be a good first step.”

“Don’t think I don’t know it!”

The two women laughed heartily, sharing an intimacy of friendship and the hopes of better days yet to come. But both of them fell silent at the sight of dust rising in the distance, a wagon making its way through the still-shimmering heat, headed right for them.

“Do you suppose that’s Fawn?” Hallie ventured.

“If’n it is, it ain’t gonna be good.”

With that, Hallie could only silently agree.

Eli tilted back his hat and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of one dirty hand. Though the day was much cooler than those that had preceded it, he was still sweating, his shirt clinging to his skin. He and Hank had stuck close to the ranch house all morning, repairing some of the damaged fence posts that made up the corrals. The work was backbreaking enough without the added problem of his wounded arm. Still, he went about his day with a smile plastered across his sweaty face.

“You seem to be enjoyin’ this a lot more than you should,” Hank pointed out.

“It sure isn’t because of
your
company.”

Even as he teased his uncle, Eli was well aware of just
what
had lit up his mood the night before, lodging such joy in his heart that it carried into the next day. From the first moment that he tasted Hallie’s kisses until the time he finally parted from her, it was as if he were part of a dream that he wanted never to end.
Hallie Wolcott has me under her spell.

“It looks like your own bachelor days might be coming to an end,” Eli said.

“Oh, it does, does it?”

“I would have thought that an old codger like you wouldn’t have the slightest clue as to how to romance a lady,” Eli continued, needling his uncle in good spirit. “But I guess even the oldest of dogs
can
learn himself a trick or two.”

“I’ve forgotten more about courtin’ ladies than you’ll ever know.” Hank chuckled warmly as he set another fence post into place. “I reckon you could say the same thing about Pearl, too. Between the two of us, I’m sure we’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

Hank stopped abruptly as he caught sight of something over his nephew’s shoulder. Eli turned to follow the older man’s gaze, shielding his eyes with his hand. There, in the distance, was a wagon hurrying toward the ranch.

“That’ll be Fawn, I reckon,” Hank observed.

Eli nodded. As much as he’d wished to disbelieve Fawn, he’d known that her intention to come to care for his mother had been serious and that, like clockwork, she’d show up the next day, butting her nose into business that was none of her concern. He’d also known that her motives weren’t what she claimed them to be; it wouldn’t have mattered who had been hurt or how badly, he’d have been willing to bet his life that the only reason she wanted to come all the way from Bison City was himself.

“She ain’t gonna let go so easy now, is she?” Hank asked.

“Never was one to accept matters when they didn’t go her way.”

“That’s as true as the Gospel.”

When they were younger, Fawn’s attempts to win his affections had been even more blatant, more brazen and open. Whenever he had refused her, even taken pains to explain to her that he simply didn’t feel that way about her, she had always laughed, telling him that he just wasn’t accepting what fate had in store for them, then tried even harder than before. He’d hoped that she would grow out of her obsession; but if anything, time had made her desire all the stronger, engagement to Seth McCarty be damned.

“Well, would you look at that.” Hank nodded as the wagon neared.

“What?” Eli asked, blinded by the sun’s glare.

“Looks like Fawn didn’t come alone.”

It was then that Eli noticed the man sitting beside Fawn in the wagon seat, his hands snapping the reins and turning the pair of horses toward the ranch house, then pulling back on them and bringing the team to a dusty halt.

The man driving the buggy was Seth.

Without a word, Eli began walking toward the new arrivals, his jaw set and his hands balled into fists.
This is trouble!
With all that had happened, the sight of Seth coming to the ranch sent his hackles rising. He could not bring himself to believe that the banker’s appearance here was mere coincidence. Besides the blood rushing in his ears, the only sound he could hear was that of Hank struggling to keep up.

“There don’t need to be no trouble, now,” his uncle cautioned.

“There ain’t gonna be unless he starts it.”

“Keep a cool head, son.”

They arrived at the buggy just as Seth was helping Fawn to the ground, her dainty hand held in his, and a large wicker basket hanging from the crook of her other arm. As soon as she saw Eli approach, her eyes lit up as if they were Fourth of July fireworks.

“Eli!” she exclaimed. “I’m so glad you came to greet us.”

“You really don’t need to come all the way out here,” he said in answer, his voice as flat and emotionless as he could manage. “Hallie and Pearl are certainly more than capable of caring for my mother.”

“Oh, don’t be silly. I told you that it would be my Christian duty to care for Mrs. Morgan and those are words I mean to live by. Besides,” she said, hoisting the basket for all to see, “I’ve prepared a wonderful lunch for her, far better than the meals she was receiving.”

“Much obliged,” Eli thanked her.

“At least you didn’t come alone this time.” Hank nodded in Seth’s direction. “That’s a mighty fine gesture for you to bring her all the way out here. I told her yesterday I didn’t feel quite right about her comin’ by herself.”

“It was the least that I could do,” the banker answered. “I must admit that I shared your concern for her safety. A woman as beautiful as Fawn might very well attract the attention of more unsavory elements. Even though I had to leave the bank for a day, it was a price well worth paying to be by her side.”

As Seth spoke, Eli watched the man’s face closely, looking for something, any sign that might betray him, which might give away some secret. As his last words faded into the wind, he watched as Seth’s eyes darted quickly toward him and then flickered away. The glance had not been long, but what Eli had seen had been illuminating; his eyes hadn’t searched Eli’s face, but had found his arm, the same arm that had been pierced by a bullet!