High Mountain Drifter (30 page)

"Thank you so much," the woman was saying. "I'm sure I can find it now."

"Well, I was just thinking--" Daisy started, but then stopped when she realized Verbena had said the same thing. They looked at each other and smiled.

"Why don't you take her?" Verbena said, gesturing toward the buggy they'd all ridden in. "We'll walk over and meet Hailie when school gets out. It won't take you long to run to the ranch and back. We can meet right here. It will give Hailie and me a chance to plan her next new dress."

"You've decided to make her another one?"

"You know me, when I start sewing, I'm unstoppable." Plus it would be one less thing on Daisy's plate, especially with the wedding coming up.

"It's a good plan," Magnolia chimed in, tumbling onto the boardwalk followed by Rose and Iris. "We hope you get the job."

"Yes, it's nice to work for Aumaleigh," Verbena piped up. "I've helped out in the ranch's kitchen before, and everyone is really nice."

"Really?" The woman rocked with relief. Her tensed shoulders relaxed. "Well, that's wonderful to hear. But I don't want to trouble you for a ride. That's not what I meant, I just got lost, and if I keep this up, I'll run out of daylight."

"It's our pleasure," Daisy said, giving Verbena a wink. "Besides, we like to check up on our aunt. You never know what she's up to, likely working too hard. So, really, I'm going in that direction anyway."

"Well, if you're sure." The woman hesitated, then followed Daisy to the buggy.

"She seems nice," Rose said when the buggy, drawn by Marvin, rolled away. "I hope she gets the job."

"Me, too," Verbena agreed. "For both her sake and Aumaleigh's. She does work too hard. We should do something about that."

"We've been so busy worrying about Ernest, it's taken over everything else." Magnolia shook her head. "It's time we move our attention to something more deserving."

"Aumaleigh," Rose agreed, with a nod. "Poor Aumaleigh. She won't know what hit her."

"That's right, but I'm looking forward to it." Verbena wrapped her scarf higher around her neck and pivoted, heading in the direction of the little schoolhouse. "And don't feel sorry for her. We're allowed to mettle in her life. She's one of us now."

"Again, poor Aumaleigh," Rose teased, merrily, so Verbena was laughing when she spotted him.

Astride one of his big, beautiful geldings, sitting the saddle like a man born to ride, he was breathtaking. His black Stetson was angled, hiding half his face, but the visible curve of cheek and jaw, the hint of a dimple rendered her breathless. When he smiled, she did too. Last night flooded back--the closeness, the togetherness, the breathlessness of attraction.

"Howdy there, ladies." He tipped his hat, revealing more of the granite-hard planes of his face and his perfect smile. He didn't exactly look like the same Zane Reed, bounty hunter, for the gruffness was tempered. His ruggedness seemed more masculine instead of untamed. "The marshals have been by and Ernest is safely on his way. Milo is going with them as far as Deer Springs."

"Is he worried or something?" Magnolia wanted to know.

"No, Milo wants to be thorough." Zane leaned back in his saddle and focused his attention on Verbena. His intense gaze traced the outer curve of her face, fastened on her mouth. Clearly he was remembering last night too. He shrugged one wide shoulder. "Ernest isn't the most dangerous man, but he is wily. More educated than the average outlaw. Milo wants to make sure the marshals don't underestimate him. It must be nice for you ladies to be out and about without a guard."

"Yes," Magnolia answered, chatting away. "We felt sorry for the cowboys, dragging them wherever we went. Like we're all that exciting."

"Well, maybe
you
are," Rose teased.

While her sisters bantered, Verbena curled her hand around the railing, drawn by the man, captivated. She knew practically nothing about him. What part of the country had he been born in? What his father used to do for a living before he was arrested? What did Zane like to do on his time off? What were his dreams? She knew so little, and yet, maybe she knew what mattered.

She knew his soul, felt it in her own. He was the man she could have loved for the rest of her life.

"...Yes, I definitely think that's a good idea," Rose was saying most impishly. Clearly she and Magnolia had been talking all along. "Brilliant idea, Magnolia."

"Yes, it is, if I do say so myself," Magnolia agreed cheerily. "We must have Zane to supper tonight."

"Tonight?" He swiveled his dark gray gaze toward them.

"A home-cooked meal is the least we can do for you," Rose said, tossing Zane her best smile. "We'll have fried chicken. Our ma's recipe is the absolute best. It's why Pa proposed to her. She made him a picnic supper and he proposed after the first bite. It's that good. You just don't want to miss chicken like that."

"That's right," Magnolia seconded. "Besides, you'll need to come by for the cupcakes anyway, so why not stay for supper. Right, Verbena?"

Sisters. She rolled her eyes. Did they always have to meddle? "Apparently you two have decided for me."

"Yes, we have." Magnolia didn't seem ashamed of it. Neither did Rose. "We're deciding for Iris and Daisy too."

"We want to get to know Zane better." Rose looked him up and down with sisterly approval.

Honestly. It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, she knew how to handle her older sisters, she had a lifetime's practice at it, but Zane looked amused. Well, hadn't he been intending to come over sometime today anyway?

"Guess I'll see you ladies in a couple hours then." He tipped his hat, the corners of his mouth amused. "I do like fried chicken."

He reined his gelding along, the proud horse tossed them all an uncertain glance as if he was not sure at all about women, especially cheerful ones, and plodded forward with great dignity, taking Zane away from her. All in black, the man was as dark as the afternoon shadows but no longer seemed a part of that darkness. He rode in the light, in the kiss of the sun.

"Wow," Rose breathed. "He's really serious about you. You can see it in his eyes."

"No kidding." Magnolia linked her arm with Verbena's. "This
is
exciting. At first you're sort of scared of him, but as you get to know him, he's really nice."

"I've noticed that." And that was all she intended to say on the subject. She was going to see him tonight, that was what mattered. Not the fact that he was leaving tomorrow. She'd take it one moment at a time, one day at a time. It was her only choice.

Ernest Craddock pulled the thin, cheap wool blanket a little higher, trying to ward off the frigid chill coming off the stone wall behind him. The Deer Springs jail was no luxury hotel, but he'd had worse places to sleep. For instance, that frozen ground tucked beneath the rock outcropping where the bounty hunter had found him.

He wouldn’t be here except that uncivilized Zane Reed and the miserable piece of trash of a woman he still hadn't managed to get his hands on. Furious, he gritted his teeth until his molars screamed in agony.

He shifted on the thin mattress, strengthened by the image of Verbena tied to the bunk bed in that mountain cabin, the long length of her bare white thigh, the fear trembling through her, the knowledge that she was about to die in her eyes. And yet she'd gotten away from him. Rage washed over him and he breathed heavily, measured, waiting for it to subside. The fury remained, refusing to budge.

She was his. He loved her, and she didn't love him back. He fisted his hands, wanting to lash out at her, but she wasn't here in this cell with him. Back in Chicago, he knew he had to have her the first moment he'd spotted her in his store. Didn't he deserve the most beautiful woman of them all?

She'd looked good on his arm wherever they went. She proved to be sweet and polite and easily manipulated, although she probably saw it as being agreeable. Isn't that what a man needed in a woman he intended to wed? She was supposed to do his bidding, bend to his will.

Well, he'd show her his will. She could refuse him, run away to this backwoods territory and even hire that dog of a bounty hunter to find him, but she didn't get the last word. That was his right, and she couldn't escape. She didn't know that yet, but she would learn.

"Yeah, he's a real wild cat, that one." In the front office, one of the marshals was laughing over a cup of coffee. He could hear the clink of the pot on the stove, the pouring sound of the liquid, smell the bitter brew.

"That one would pass out if you said boo." Another lawman laughed. The clanging bang of a stove's iron door interrupted, drowning out the rest of the discussion.

Ernest leaned forward, patiently waiting, trying to figure out if playing it weak and beat down had worked. He could outsmart anyone, given enough time and information

"I figured when we first talked to the sheriff that we were bringing in a vicious killer." The first marshal gave a soft laugh.

"Me, too. I was expecting him to at least put up a fight," said the second. "Maybe have to bind him and gag him."

"But that spineless city slicker didn't make a peep." The marshal paused for some coffee, giving a loud slurp.

"You talkin' about Craddock?" A different voice. Maybe the local sheriff?

"Yeah, that pip squeak." The second marshal laughed. "Cowered the whole ride here, cried out every time we looked at him. A flight risk? Please, he's more likely to die of fright first."

"I wouldn't be so sure," the third voice said gruffly. A man not to be fooled. "Milo Gray is a fine sheriff. If he says to be cautious, I'd listen if I were you, or you're likely to find a knife in your back or a bullet in your head. Now I'm heading over to the diner. You boys want to join me for supper?"

"No, we're eating at the hotel." The first marshal answered. "Good night, Sheriff."

"See you boys in the morning." Boots knelled across the room, the door squealed open and smacked shut.

"Well, these local lawmen, they don't know what a violent criminal is." The second marshal chuckled. "This coffee is terrible. Are you ready to head to the hotel?"

"Yep. See you deputies in the morning." The marshals left, assured of their superiority.

Excellent. Ernest smiled. He didn't feel the chill from the cell wall as he leaned against it and threw off the blanket. He felt invincible. Those marshals couldn't hold him. Not for long. He planned to kill them, steal one of their horses and ride straight back the way he'd come. Verbena would be his first stop. He'd been looking forward to her for so long, he wanted to take the time to really enjoy it.

And when he was done, he'd settle a few scores. Maybe look up Milo Gray and that bounty hunter, dispatch them neatly and head south, buy himself a new life, build a new identity. Maybe he'd even get himself a little wife.

He'd never been asked to supper in a fancy house like this, much less in the sole company of a pack of women--even if they were women he actually liked. Zane felt awkward and a little nervous as he crossed the front porch. He would have said no to the invitation, but Verbena wanted him to come. He'd read it in her eyes.

Since he couldn't stand to let her down, he was here. In truth, it would be a good way to spend time with her. He straightened his collar, gathered his courage and raised his fist to the door, but didn't knock. Through the glass panes of the window, he spotted Verbena hurrying down the hallway, lamplight gleaming coppery in her hair, laughing as she dashed away from him toward the kitchen.

She looked miraculous, a vision so stunning it hurt to see. A sapphire blue dress skimmed her willowy figure, swishing along with her dancing gait. He ached, wishing for her. She skidded to a stop at the end of the hallway, in the light of the kitchen, gesturing with her lean, graceful arms as she spoke to whichever sisters were just out of his sight.

Yes, he'd done a good thing hunting Craddock and Klemp. It almost made him forget the man he was down deep, made him feel he'd done something good in his life. His throat ached with emotions he didn't dare let himself admit to or the dreams for her he had to keep buried.

Tonight wasn't about him. What mattered was her. How happy she looked. She sparkled like a rare gem. His chest filled with those pesky, weak emotions again. He did his best to ignore them, not to feel a thing.

He adjusted the small crate he carried in one arm. Through the window, down the hall, Verbena gave a spin as if showing off her dress. The skirt twirled out, and she danced out of his sight. He could hear the faint, lilting cadence of women's voices, words indistinguishable, but the tone was merry.

Maybe that was a good sign for the evening. Even then, this wasn't going to be easy. He was out of his element here, about to face down five women by himself--women who were nice to him, but still. Hunting down murderous outlaws didn't rattle him. Waiting here on the doorstep was likely to give him a heart attack. Best to get it over with. Gathering up his courage, he rapped his knuckles on the door. Sweat broke out on the back of his neck at the sound of a lady's gait tapping close.