A Good Man for Katie (23 page)

Chase stopped and looked at her, raising the lantern high so he could see her face, which colored in the most becoming way. “An affair? With whom?”

Kathryne shrugged. “Either Townsend or one of the deputies. Amanda’s mother never mentioned a name in her letters, but I do know, just from the tone of the correspondence, the affair didn’t end very well.” She blinked behind the lenses of her glasses, her eyes wide and shining. “I think something bad happened to her.”

“Maybe she was embarrassed by it all and left town on her own.”

“Then why leave everything behind?”

“I can’t answer that, Katie. I didn’t know the woman and neither did you.” He lowered his voice and touched her cheek. “In the meantime, as much as I love to hear you chatter, you must be quiet. We don’t know who we might run into down here.”

“Oh. Sorry.” She gave a short laugh then lapsed into silence as they began walking once more.

They came to a fork in the tunnel, one side leading north, the other west. Chase lifted the lantern and peered into the darkness beyond the light. Neither option looked promising.

“Which way should we go?” Kathryne whispered as she peered into the darkness as well and slipped her hand in his.

“I’m not sure.” He studied the dirt beneath his feet and noticed footprints but there were too many, coming from both directions and back the way they’d come. “We could turn back.”

“We’ve come too far to turn back now.”

“That we have.” He glanced at her and noticed how she’d pulled up the fur around the collar of her cape. “Are you cold?”

“No, just…it’s creepy. Bad things have happened here. I feel sadness and desperation. There’s anger here, too.” She shuddered and stepped closer. “Don’t you feel it?”

Chase understood perfectly and nodded. He did feel those emotions, as if the walls of the tunnel leaked the sentiments in ever-growing trickles. The pervasive darkness seemed to settle in his bones and though they were alone, as far as he could tell, he still felt they were being watched. “This looks like part of the original cave, before they—whoever they were—extended it.” His finger traced a golden vein in the rock and an explanation for almost everything he’d seen so far came to him in a flash. “This is gold, I’m sure of it.”

“It could be,” Kathryne said as she studied the vein with him. “There have been a few gold strikes in Arizona that I’ve heard about, even before I came here. Silver and copper, too. Maybe this was all created by a prospector, searching for his fortune.”

Chase breathed a little easier now that he had a partial explanation, although the trap door in the schoolhouse just didn’t seem to fit. A prospector hoping to strike it rich may have started the tunnel, but it had a much different purpose now. He knew that as surely as he stood here. “We’ll go this way. Maybe we can find the entrance to the cave.” He chose the passageway leading north, although his sense of direction may have been skewed. With only the lantern to light his way, he felt a bit disoriented.

The floor slanted upward at a deep angle and lantern light fell on more trash left behind from whoever last used the tunnel. Another newspaper caught his eye. He picked it up and read the date. Yesterday. He dropped the newspaper and raised his lantern higher. A shovel, brand new, gleamed in the light and beyond that, pieces of wood.

He rushed forward, stooped and picked up a slat of wood. Black letters had been stenciled on the unpainted lumber. He could make out the top part of a U, an S, and an A.

“What is it?”

“Part of a crate,” he said but in his heart, he knew. The wooden slat came from the crates of rifles his brother had been transporting from Camp Verde. How it ended up in this tunnel in the hills above Crystal Springs, he could only guess, but the speculation made his stomach turn as the other purpose of the tunnel became clear. He’d leave a note for Colonel Barstow in their customary place and see if other rifles had been stolen, if other men had been killed and when. Better yet, he might just have to make another visit to the Colonel.

They walked for hours…or what seemed like hours. Beneath the earth, the narrow walls closing in on him, darkness pressing down on him except for the pool of light from the lantern, he’d lost all track of time…until a cold breeze ruffled his hair. He looked ahead and saw glimmers of moonlight shifting on the cave wall. He stepped forward quickly, his hand holding hers and parted the bushes covering the mouth of the cave.

“Where are we?”

Chase sucked in his breath as he realized exactly where they were. “The mountain pass above Dead Man’s Drop.”

Pristine snow, unmarred by human or animal, sparkled beneath the light of the moon. The tops of evergreen trees swayed in the breeze causing small cascades of snow to fall to the ravine below. Silence surrounded him, but it wasn’t the peaceful hush that usually accompanied a snow-laden landscape. The swaying trees seemed to whisper his name, the sound eerie, unnatural, and utterly peculiar. A shiver raced up his spine that had nothing to do with the frigid temperature.

“You have the strangest look on your face. What’s wrong?” Kathryne asked as she moved closer to him and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm.

“Nothing. I…I thought I heard something.” He smiled at her, trying to reassure her, and gazed into her face, wondering if she’d heard the ghostly whisper of his name. Perhaps he wanted to bring Evan’s killers to justice so badly, he imagined he heard Evan calling to him. He walked closer to the rim of the canyon, marring the expanse of unspoiled snow then turned around and gazed at the bush-covered opening to the tunnel.

“So that’s how they do it,” he said without realizing he’d uttered the words aloud.

“Do what?”

He shook his head, refusing to answer.

Kathryne grabbed his arm as he headed back to the opening behind the bushes. “Tell me what you meant.”

He felt the intensity of her stare, but remained silent though he ached to tell her the truth, longed to clear his heart and soul of the secret he kept. He wanted to tell her about Evan and the search for his killers, and yet, he couldn’t. If she knew the truth, she could get hurt—in more ways than one and he never wanted that to happen. The mere thought struck fear in his heart.

“Promise me, you will never come down to the tunnel alone.” He grabbed her arms through the cape, his fingertips digging into her soft flesh. “Promise me, you’ll never tell anyone what we found.”

“Chase! You’re scaring me.” Her eyes were wide behind the lenses of her glasses, her face pale in the moonlight, and he knew he had indeed scared her, but she needed to be afraid…and he needed assurance. Knowing her penchant for asking too many questions, knowing how she just blurted out her thoughts without thinking, she could inadvertently tell the wrong person what she knew.

“Good. You should be scared,” he breathed as he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” she breathed into his coat then took a step out of his embrace and stared at him. “Who are you, Chase Hunter?”

The words were on the tip of his tongue.
Captain Charles Hunter Hartridge, United States Army.
And yet, those were not the words that flowed from his lips. “An outlaw. A gun for hire, just like they believe me to be.” Chase sighed as he gazed into her eyes, so wide, so filled with trepidation and oddly, trust.

“I don’t believe you.” Her voice trembled even as her back stiffened and she stood up straight. “You’re not those things, Chase. You’re not.” Tears shimmered on her lashes and made her eyes luminous behind the lenses of her glasses. “You’re a good man.”

“Things are not always as they seem,” he said but did not elaborate to explain his meaning. “Suffice it to say—” He didn’t finish his thought. “Never mind. We should head back to the cottage. I’d like to read those letters from Miss Stillwell’s mother.”

****

Several hours later, Chase folded the last letter and put it back in the carved trunk, as convinced as Kathryne that Amanda Stillwell had not eloped. Indeed, he didn’t believe she’d left town at all; her remains had simply not been found. And though Mrs. Stillwell never mentioned Amanda’s lover’s name, he had no doubt in his mind who it had been.

He sighed as he glanced at Kathryne. She slept in the chair pulled close to the fireplace, her feet folded beneath her bottom, exhausted from finding Shep dead, bearing Townsend’s questioning, and exploring the tunnel beneath the schoolhouse.

She’d barely spoken to him all the way back to the cottage, only said a few words as she handed him a glass of brandy and pushed the trunk toward him, but she’d watched him, her eyes wary, her mouth turned down at the corners.

He regretted frightening her, but he had done so for her own good. One word mentioned about the tunnel, one question asked of the wrong person regarding Amanda, and she could find herself in more trouble than she had so far.

“Ah, Katie, what am I to do?”

Sarge sprawled next to the chair, but his head rose as Chase spoke the words aloud. He whined, as if unsure of the answer then laid his muzzle back on his paws with a long, drawn out sigh.

Chase rose from his seat, stretched his weary muscles and cramped joints and lifted Kathryne, cradling her close. Sarge rose as well and followed him into the bedroom, his nails clacking on the hardwood floor. The dog turned three times on the rag-rug in front of the fireplace and laid down, curling himself into a tight ball.

He placed Kathryne on the bed, fully dressed. He thought about waking her so she could change out of her clothes and into a nightgown, but discarded the notion and drew the quilt up to her neck instead. She turned on her side, folding her hands beneath the pillow as Chase lowered himself to the edge of the mattress and removed his boots.

He crawled into bed beside her. Kathryne murmured and snuggled closer to him in her sleep. He stared at the ceiling, willing his eyes to close, willing himself to relax, but sleep wouldn’t come for him. Despite the weariness pervading his body, too many questions without answers careened through his mind, too many suspicions without proof.

He slipped out of bed before dawn, pulled on his boots in the pearly light coming in through the window, and left the cottage before Kathryne awoke, desperate to find the answers he needed to avenge his brother’s death…and perhaps, Amanda Stillwell’s as well.

Chapter Fifteen

From the moment Walter handed her the note from his mother, telling her about the emergency meeting of the Ladies’ Society after school, Kathryne had been nervous and preoccupied. She couldn’t concentrate on the day’s lessons, couldn’t think of anything else besides what would happen at the end of the day.

She had reason to be on edge, as she now knew.

She was to be reprimanded, perhaps scolded, though this time, not by her father, but by the Ladies’ Society. All seven of them sat around the table in Francine Maitland’s dining room, looking at her. Kathryne saw sympathy flash in the eyes of Emeline and Laurel, the two women she counted as friends, confusion, bewilderment and embarrassment in the gazes of several others. Only one stared at her with undisguised disgust and perhaps…a hint of triumph? Francine, who had never wanted to hire her in the first place, couldn’t hide the smile of satisfaction on her face. She didn’t even try.

“It has come to our attention that perhaps you should be relieved of your duties.” She sounded just like her attorney husband as she delivered those words. She paced the floor, just as her husband would if he were in front of a judge and jury.

Kathryne gasped as if she’d been slapped across the face. She had expected a reprimand, but not this. Startled, her voice cracked as she whispered, “But I love teaching. I’ve grown fond of all the children.”

“That is beside the point.” Confidence radiated from Francine’s face, as if she enjoyed Kathryne’s shock and confusion, as if she’d waited for this moment for months. Perhaps she had. “The Ladies’ Society does not feel you are the proper person to have such influence over our children.”

Perspiration trickled between her breasts and dampened her back pressed against the chair, despite the chill in the room. The knot in Kathryne’s stomach twisted. “What have I done?”

“There is the matter of Shep Turner being found dead in the schoolhouse.” Francine stopped pacing and pinned her with a glare meant to intimidate and frighten. “I’ve had reports that he’d been seen at the schoolhouse before. And at your home. It’s improper.”

She had no choice, but to defend herself. Determined to remain calm, determined not to give Francine the satisfaction of seeing how much this confrontation affected her, how much she wanted to crawl beneath the table and hide, she took a deep breath. “I didn’t invite his attention, Francine. He attacked me. Followed me even though I tried to discourage him. I even went to Mrs. Kinsbrough at Willow Creek to see if she could get him to stop. I simply wished for him to leave me alone.” She glanced at the other women around the table, her gaze settling on Emeline. “I certainly didn’t ask for his death.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not,” Francine murmured.

Kathryne drew her attention back to the woman who stood between her dreams of independence and returning to the cloistered, controlled life her father demanded of her. “The rules of your continued employment state you are to have no contact with the opposite sex. When you were hired, we asked if you could abide by those rules. Apparently, you cannot.”

Kathryne shook her head. Where she found the strength to deny defeat, she didn’t know, but she wasn’t about to let this woman win, wasn’t about to let her see how frazzled she’d become. What she couldn’t understand is why Francine disliked her so much. She’d done nothing…

Well, she had, but no one knew except herself and Chase. Unless…

The knowledge that someone had seen Chase leave the cottage after the snowstorm or leave before dawn this morning struck fear in her heart. She took a deep breath. “No, that isn’t quite true. The rules of my contract state I am not to
keep company
with the opposite sex, which I have not.” How easily the lie slipped from her lips. She only hoped the warmth spreading through her body did not show on her face as she folded her hands on the table to keep them from trembling. “Half the people in this town are men. Am I not to speak to half the town?”