The Moon and the Stars (5 page)

Her vision blurred, and she stopped to rub her eyes for a moment, considering whether she should leave San Sebastian—had she stayed too long? It hurt to think of leaving her friends, and especially Nelly. She had very little money, but she could start over again somewhere else. Perhaps she would go to California next time. Surely she could get lost in a place that far away.

It was overcast, and a rainy mist hung low in the sky as Caroline fell into step with several other people who were headed toward the church at the edge of town. The sound of the church bells was muffled by a sudden heavy fog that swirled about them, and a strange eeriness permeated the air. It had been threatening rain all morning, and as the first drops fell, the group of people dashed beneath the awning of the General Merchandise store, seeking shelter.

Caroline was the first to hear the sound of the rider, and the first to see the stranger as he emerged from the mist, his black horse hardly breaking its stride in the muddy street. The man was dressed all in black from hat to boots. He sat high in the saddle, his head at a formidable tilt, his wide shoulders ridged with muscle. She could not see his features at all because his hat was pulled low over his forehead, but she did see the squareness of his clean-shaven jaw and knew
instinctively that he was dangerous, and he meant trouble for someone.

A deep feeling of foreboding slammed into her like a fist, twisting inside her stomach as she heard the whispers that swept through the group.

“I believe that's Wade Renault,” Sally Graves marveled. “He used to be a gun for hire, but I heard he'd retired to his home in Louisiana. What's he doing here?”

“That's him, right enough, and he must have come out of retirement,” Mr. Liggett remarked. “I heard tell he's the best there ever was at what he does, and I believe it. I wonder if he's come here gunning for someone.”

“But who?” Mrs. Liggett asked, clutching her husband's arm and moving a little closer to him. “Who would be so important to bring a man like him to our town?”

Caroline could feel the stirring of unrest in those around her, and it intensified when the gunslinger turned his head to glance in their direction.

“He could've come here for any one of us. Who among us doesn't have enemies?” remarked Mr. Styles, the foreman of one of the outlying ranches. “From all the saddle bums I've fired over the years, I've got a passel of people who would like to see me dead.”

“Wade Renault doesn't shoot people,” Mr. Liggett said. “He takes them to whoever hires him.”

The others fell silent.

Caroline shivered, and this time her whole body shook. What if he had come for her? Her first instinct
was to run and hide, but instead she gripped her handkerchief tightly in her hands, twisting it into a knot.

In that moment, the stranger shoved his hat back, and his gaze collided with hers. She looked into eyes that were more intense than any she had ever seen before—and she saw death reflected in that harsh gaze.

In that moment, she knew in her heart that he had come for her!

The bounty hunter nodded the merest bit in her direction while a cruel smile curved his lips. This was no clumsy intruder like the one who had broken into the house in Savannah trying to find her. This man would know exactly what to do: And if he had come for her, she would never be able to escape those watchful eyes.

“I know who he's come after,” Victor Liggett insisted, stepping out into the rain and watching Wade Renault halt his mount in front of Nelly's boardinghouse. “I told Arnold Pickens not to hire that saddle tramp he took on last September. I even told the sheriff I'd seen his picture on a wanted poster down in Abilene last August. The sheriff swore he had nothing on him, but I bet Wade Renault knows all about that wanted poster.”

Caroline was so frightened, her heart was beating twice as fast as normal. She wondered if Mr. Liggett might be right; could the bounty hunter have come for someone else? She watched the tall stranger fluidly dismount, his black chaps clinging to his long, lean legs. His spurs jingled as his boots touched the ground.
She stared after him until he disappeared into Nelly's boardinghouse.

Hoping no one would notice, Caroline quickly moved to the side of the building and hurried in the direction of her home. She could not go to church and pretend that nothing had happened. Past experience had taught her to be ready to leave quickly.

When she reached the house, she dashed inside, locking the door behind her. She hurried into her bedroom and retrieved the satchel she had stashed beneath her bed. Not knowing what to do next, she hurried into the kitchen and lifted the lid of the sugar bowl where she kept her extra money. When she counted it out, she realized there would not be enough to take her very far.

She blew a tangled curl out of her face and smoothed it into place. Glancing down at her hands, she saw how badly they were trembling. Once more she grasped her satchel and walked quickly to the back door.

She had to get away as soon as possible!

Archimedes chose that moment to saunter into the room after her, looking as if he hadn't a worry in the world. He twined around her leg, purring and rubbing his body against her.

Stricken, she dropped everything and scooped him into her arms. “How will you survive without someone to look after you?” She laid her face against his soft fur while tears gathered in her eyes. “What am I to do, Archimedes? I can't just leave you here, and I can't take you with me.”

She was startled by a knock on the front door. She squeezed the cat so tightly that he twisted and squirmed until he was able to drop to the floor.

Caroline backed toward the door. If she could only make it out the back, she might be able to hide somewhere until the next stage left town.

“Caroline, are you in there?” Nelly called out. “Nancy Liggett thinks you're sick or something because you left so suddenly.”

Reluctantly Caroline went to the front room and opened the door, noticing the worried frown on her friend's face.

“I was not feeling very well. I have a terrible headache.” Her head truly was pounding, and the pain was excruciating.

“You poor dear, you are pale. Why don't you lie down, and I'll get a wet cloth for your head.”

All she wanted was for Nelly to leave so she could plan her next move. “I'll be fine. I just need to rest for a while.”

Nelly's gaze fell on the satchel on the kitchen floor, and she quickly looked at Caroline. “You're leaving, aren't you? You were going without telling me.”

Caroline closed her eyes. “I told you what I would do if I felt threatened. Please tell no one about this until I am safely away. Then tell them I was called home for a family emergency or something of the sort. I'll leave money with you to give Mrs. Liggett for next month's rent.”

Tears gathered in Nelly's eyes, and she shook her head. “Why are you doing this? What's happened?”

“A bounty hunter rode into town this morning. I believe he has come for me. You must have seen him. He went into your place.”

“You mean Wade Renault.” Nelly looked confused.
“He's not here for you. He was asking me about a man I've never heard of. I told him that if he had questions, he should ask Sheriff Palmer.”

Caroline took a steadying breath and let it out slowly. “Can it be true that he is not here for me?”

“He didn't ask anything about you. He'll be staying at my place for at least tonight. I suspect he'll ride on tomorrow if the sheriff can't help him, or if he doesn't find the man he's after.”

“I don't know what to do.” Caroline paced the length of the room and back again. “I was so sure—”

“Mr. Renault has a reputation for always bringing in the man he's after, but I've never heard of him going after a woman.” Nelly paused in thought. “No, that's not quite right. I heard a few years back that he rescued some rancher's daughter from the Apache down near San Hidalgo way. But that's not the same as hunting the girl down, is it?”

Caroline was not ready to relax just yet. “What else do you know about him?”

“They say he's quite a gentleman, and I can tell you he's been nothing but polite to me.” Nelly smiled mischievously, hoping to put her friend more at ease. “He has this accent—French, I think it is. Notwithstanding what he does for a living, he is one perfect man. Handsome as all get-out.”

Caroline remembered those cold, piercing eyes that made her shiver even now. “What else do they say about him?”

“No one seems to know much. I believe I once heard that he lives in New Orleans. That's all I know.” She smiled devilishly, still trying to ease her friend's mind. “He isn't married. I'm not fooling you when I
tell you he's the best-looking man I've seen around these parts in a long time.”

Doubt and fear nagged at Caroline. “I still feel like I should leave as soon as possible.”

“You aren't the only one who was spooked by Renault's arrival. A lot of people in town are afraid of him. As I said, he'll probably be moving on soon, and then we can all get back to normal.”

Caroline was lost in thought, trying to absorb the significance of what Nelly was telling her. “I suppose, if he was asking the whereabouts of someone else, he wouldn't be looking for me.”

“That's right. If I thought he had come to San Sebastian to find you, I'd do everything to help you get away. And besides, even if he were after you, don't you think it would be smarter to face him here surrounded by friends than off somewhere on your own?”

Caroline walked to the window and stared out, swallowing with difficulty. “I don't know what to do. I would like to wake up just one morning without being afraid.”

Realizing for the first time the depth of Caroline's concern, Nelly was swamped with pity for her. Whatever had happened to her in the past must have been very bad, or she wouldn't be so suspicious of strangers. “Don't worry about Renault. If he starts asking questions about you, I'll know it.”

Caroline didn't like the thought of leaving San Sebastian or of being alone again. “I suppose I could stay for a while.”

“Good. Now about that headache—would you like me to make you a nice hot cup of tea?”

 

Wade Renault's room was small, but it had the little niceties that only a woman could add: There was a frilly scarf on a sturdy round table, a colorful handquilted cover on the bed, and a comfortable overstuffed chair by the window.

When the landlady had shown him to a room that faced the front of the building, he had quickly explained that he was a light sleeper and that noise from the street would probably keep him awake.

How easily she had obliged him by moving him across the hallway. Now he had a room that looked directly down on Mrs. Duncan's house, and it would be easy to keep track of her comings and goings without even leaving his room.

He had come into town three nights ago when most of the town had been attending evening church service. Mrs. Duncan had not even locked her front door. He had slipped inside, searched every room carefully, and left with her being none the wiser.

He shoved the lace curtain aside and looked down at the small house. What luck that she had been the first person he had noticed when he rode into town today. He had not mistaken the fear in her eyes. It was as if she had been expecting him.

He had already determined that she had friends in this town, and he didn't want anyone getting in his way when he finally decided to make his move. He would bide his time, lull her into complacency by making her believe he was tracking someone else, and then he would take her.

He glanced at the house that was just behind Mrs. Duncan's. He knew that it was occupied by a rather
large family; on the other side of her there was an older couple. He expected no trouble from any of them.

He always liked to learn everything he could about the person he was tracking. From what he had observed thus far about Mrs. Duncan, she was not the sterling churchgoer she would have folks believe. He tried to imagine what was going on inside her house at that very moment.

It had been a long time since he had experienced any kind of emotion, but at the moment he was suffused with anger. When he had first started watching her house, he had noticed several soldiers coming and going at all hours. There could be only one reason a man would visit a woman at night. There was little doubt in his mind as to what kind of woman Mrs. Duncan was.

Wade had lost count of how many people he had tracked over the years. He had always charged top dollar, and people had gladly paid it. He didn't need money, and he wasn't sure why he had accepted this one last challenge.

He could not explain what had induced him to come out of retirement, take up his gun again, and agree to locate this woman. For so long, he had needed something in his life, a cause to believe in—and he believed in bringing in criminals. He did have his scruples and a code of honor that he had never broken: He would not go after anyone if he thought his quarry was innocent. He had never hunted a woman before.

He did not feel good about it even now.

But this time was different from all the others: He
was working for a man who wanted to bring his brother's killer to justice. Angel-face down there was not what she appeared to be, and not what the good people of this town thought she was. According to Brace Duncan, his sister-in-law had married his brother, shot him, and taken the money that belonged to the family.

She had been easy to track. A beautiful woman was always noticed. It had taken him only two months to locate her in San Sebastian.

He was a bit puzzled about one thing, though. Why was she living such a meager existence if she had all that money?

He removed the small tintype he carried in his breast pocket and stared at it for a long time. Not that he needed any reminder of how she looked; it had become a nightly ritual for him to stare at her likeness and study the beautiful face. The sweetness of her smile apparently hid the passions of a cold-blooded killer. He traced the long, slender neck, and wondered what color her eyes would be. There was a longing deep inside him to hear the sound of her voice.