High Mountain Drifter (5 page)

"The youngest McPhee girl. She's awful pretty, maybe the prettiest woman anyone around here has ever seen. That can make some men do some awful crazy things." Milo blew out a troubled sigh, his brow lined with worry and angst at his own perceived failures, concerned about the people he protected.

"What's her name?" he asked quietly, thinking of the mud spackled young woman and her beauty. Her incredible beauty. The back of his neck tingled something fierce. No doubt taking this case was a bad choice, but it really wasn't a choice. Not at all.

"Verbena." Milo took a sip of coffee, swallowed, debated what to say next. Clearly he knew what the problem was. "There are five sisters. The man--Ernest Craddock--will not hesitate to use any of the other McPhee girls as hostages. Verbena told me afterward that Craddock admitted his plans to rape and kill her."

"I see." Zane blew out a heavy sigh. Men like Craddock he understood. The deep narcissism, the supreme sense of self-importance, the lack of empathy on any level for anyone else, the joy and victory he felt knowing someone was hurt or dead. "You didn't mention five women in the note."

"I failed to mention them, that's true. I know how you feel about the fairer gender." Milo looked sheepish. It hadn't been easy for him to be deceptive even in a small way. "It's one of those greater good things."

"I saw that woman on the street when I drove up." He couldn't bring himself to mention the mud. He really did feel bad about that. This explained her outburst. Trauma affected a person, especially someone as delicate as a woman. He was just thankful the ending hadn't been like so many he'd come across. "She had a half dozen armed men with her."

"I told her to stay at home." Milo rolled his eyes to the ceiling, as if his patience was tested to the limit. "Well, I'm sure the cowboys will keep them safe. They're tough and they're good shots."

"The cowboys?" Zane tipped his cup back for the last scorching, bitter drops. "I figured they were her family."

"No, there's just the five girls and their aunt."

Great. Zane closed his eyes, took a moment to let the upset at that news settle. "You mean I'll be dealing directly with the women. All five of them?"

"You'd be dealing with me." Milo seemed sure about that. "Look, I remember Pine Bluffs? I haven't forgotten what happened or how those women in town treated you. Your past wasn't their business and they had no right to drive you out of town."

"You stood up for me, tried to save my job. It's water under the bridge." He steeled his heart--or the last, cold shreds left of it. He didn't need a heart, he didn't do feelings and he didn't think about what happened in his deputy days. He should have known he wasn't a man who could be tamed. "As long as I don't have to talk to those women much, I'll be fine."

"Good." Milo slumped against the chair back, relieved. "Thanks for taking this on, Zane."

"I don't have a choice." He meant that. Without a doubt, he'd be here for Milo. Time and distance couldn't change it. He'd never forget that Milo had risked his own job for him. "You need help, end of story. I'll need more background before I start hunting this Craddock fellow, but I'd like to get settled in. I didn't notice a hotel on my way in."

"That's because there isn't one." Milo stood, set his cup on the edge of his desk and stared out the window at the town, gray with rain, brown with mud. "I spoke with Aumaleigh who owns the Rocking M Ranch not far from here, and she has room for you in her bunkhouse. It's a slow time for them, so there's plenty of space. You'll have a room to yourself and three squares a day."

"I've had worse." He was just glad he'd have a roof over his head considering the weather out there. Lately, he'd spent most of his nights in a bedroll on the ground. "Do these McPhee sisters live on the ranch?"

"Just up the hill. I can go with you if you'd like, when you interview them. You'll need to get all the information you can. I wouldn't want you to have to face five women all by yourself."

"Funny. I think I can manage it." Already dreading it, Zane handed over the empty cup, turning grim. Five women. He'd rather face a stampeding horde of armed outlaws by himself, unarmed and tied to a tree. But a debt was a debt. And if there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was men who harmed women.

"Don't worry," he said, grabbing his hat and plopping it on his head. "I'll hunt down Craddock. Nothing on earth is going to stop me."

He opened the door and moseyed out into the rain. Icy cold drops slapped his face as he nodded goodbye to Milo, hiked across the boardwalk and down the steps into the sloppy muddy puddle that had grown around his parked buckboard.

Five women. Well, he really only needed to speak with the one. He glanced down the street at the place where he'd spotted Verbena McPhee. There was only an enormous mud puddle now, but he could still see her standing there, fuming. He winced, both at ruining her dress and at the way she'd berated him while he'd sat there, nearly tongue-tied. This job was going to be...well, interesting wasn't the right word. Maybe it was torture.

This was just what she needed, Verbena thought. What they all needed. Merry laughter and chatter rang in the air in the fancy dining room in McPhee Manor. She took a sip of milk, finishing off the glass, while beside her Magnolia was re-telling Tyler's proposal to a rapt Elise Hutchinson and Penelope Shalvis. She loved seeing everyone enjoying themselves.

"Wonderful," Elise was saying as she clasped her hands together, leaning back in her chair, beaming sincere happiness. "I had a feeling about the two of you at Sarah Combs's going away party. I'd never seen Tyler look at anyone the way he looked at you."

"I rather despised him then," Magnolia remembered fondly of the man she was now engaged to. "Those were good times."

"I've only met Tyler once." Penelope spoke up softly, shyly, pushing a strand of dark brown hair out of her eyes. "He seemed quite amiable. Like whatever the circumstance, he'd meet it with a smile and a positive attitude."

"That's Tyler. Eventually he won me over." Magnolia's blond locks tumbled into her face as she fidgeted in her chair, perhaps too overjoyed at the good turn in her life to sit still and ladylike. Typical. "Now I have to work on his parents. They don't like me very much."

"I can't think why," Penelope said comfortingly. "You're adorable."

"They just need to get to know you," Elise encouraged, her lovely face crinkling with thought. "Maybe I could help with that."

"That would be so nice of you," Rose leaned in to say and the conversation continued.

Verbena set down her empty glass, drinking in the scene. Nothing was more beautiful than the sight of her sisters merrily chatting away. Troubles forgotten, laughter peppering the air, happiness shining. This was the way she wanted her sisters' lives to be, especially with all the trouble Ernest had cost them. First in Chicago when she'd started having troubles with him and then here, when he'd stalked them.

She truly felt bad about that because she'd been the one who'd let him into the circle of her family. She'd been the one who'd exposed her beloved sisters to a dangerous man. Guilt arrowed deep, hurting worse than any physical pain.

"As soon as Tyler's crew is done with the renovations on the manor," Daisy was saying on the other side of the table, talking easily with Gemma Gunderson as if they'd been friends forever. "They are going to build onto Beckett's cottage down the hill. It should be done before the wedding, not that we've set a date yet."

"How exciting." Gemma leaned in to examine Daisy's left hand. "I love your engagement ring. It's beautiful."

"Let's have tea by the fire," Iris broke in gently, wrapping her arms around herself. "Brr. It's getting chilly. The temperature outside must be dropping."

"Great idea. I'll be happy to get the tea ready," Rose volunteered, bopping up out of her chair, lovely in a light lavender dress. "If everyone would like to huddle around the fire in the parlor, I'll bring out the tea."

"Thank you, it was a delicious lunch." Penelope rose elegantly out of her seat, glancing around the table to smile at each sister. The new schoolteacher was easy to like with her quiet charm and kindness. She began stacking the china plates neatly. "And your home is beautiful."

"We still aren't used to it," Verbena admitted, hopping to her feet to take the plates from their guest. No way should Penelope be cleaning up. "This time last year we were living in a low-rent boardinghouse."

"All in one room," Daisy added, her molasses hair gleaming in the lamplight.

"I had to sleep on the floor," Magnolia chimed in.

"We had a drafty fireplace in that corner room," Iris remembered, gathering up plates on her side of the table. "But it was large enough to fit all of us, even if we had to squeeze."

"That room was ice-cold in the winter," Rose remembered, her voice echoing from the kitchen. "Scorching in summer."

"We didn't mind inheriting a house like this," Verbena summed up, adding another plate to the pile she held. "It still feels like it's someone else's house though, and the real owner will come in any minute and kick us out."

"It
does
feel like that," Magnolia agreed as she led Elise and Penelope through the open French doors and into the parlor. "Although the exciting part is that for the first time, we will each have our own bedroom. When the construction is finished, that is. Can't wait. Did either of you have to share with a sister?"

"I'm an only child," Elise answered, her voice muffled coming from the adjacent room.

"Let me take those," Iris said, suddenly at Verbena's side. She tugged the plates out of her grip. "Two of our guests are alone with Magnolia. Go rescue them."

"A really good idea," Verbena couldn’t help joking just as a knock banged on the front door.

"Oh," Iris added over her shoulder, marching briskly toward the kitchen. "That would be Maebry. Would you let her in?"

"I'd love to." Verbena adored Maebry. At twenty, Maebry was only a year younger, and they had a lot in common. Feeling lighter, buoyed by the happiness in the room, Verbena hurried down the hall to the front door. Already, she was thinking of the fun yet to come, an afternoon of sewing and talking with friends--totally normal and wonderful things, things that would make it seem as if Ernest wasn't a factor, as if he was no threat at all.

That's what she wanted. To live her life, to have everything go on as normal, so that Ernest and his hatred, or whatever it was that drove him, had no effect. No power. He would be rendered unimportant, insignificant, irrelevant. Determined, she grabbed the ornate doorknob and gave it a turn.

"Maebry--" She greeted, expecting to see the sweet blond newlywed on their front porch, sewing basket in hand. But no, a dark shadow fell across her, the hulking form of a man frowned down at her with a gun strapped on both hips and a rifle in hand. A black Stetson shaded his square, granite face. A day's growth darkened his strong jaw. His gray eyes shuttered the moment she recognized him.

The mud puddle man.

Her grip tightened on her cane. Irrational, surprising anger rolled up out of nowhere. She'd been happy and relaxed one minute, and now fury gripped her. What was he doing here? Why had he hunted her down? And what if he looked at her with pity again? She set her chin, peering up at him. "What are you doing here? Come to ruin another dress?"

The corner of his mouth hitched up a smidge. "Tempting, but I'm here on business."

"Where's Burton?" She asked, trying to glance around the stranger's intimidating size to the porch behind him. Impossible to do, but she couldn’t help worrying. "He's supposed to be guarding the door."

"He let me by." The well-armed, brawny stranger's baritone came clipped, emotionless, his gaze an inscrutable, remote stare. He had to be more than several inches over six feet. Maybe the biggest man she'd ever seen. Pure muscle, hard as nails.

"The sheriff sent me." His chiseled mouth twisted down in one corner. "I'm the bounty hunter. I've come to hunt down Ernest Craddock."

"Oh." She felt punched. Hearing Ernest's name was one thing, it sent up a jitter of emotions, but remembering how she'd treated this man, the one who'd come to help. She'd scolded him, she'd waved her cane at him. Embarrassed, she stared up at him with dread.
"You're
the bounty hunter?"

"Yeah, I'm not thrilled about it either." The corner of his mouth quirked up this time. "You were expecting me, right?"

"Not for a while." She grabbed the doorframe to steady herself. "Milo said it could be a month or more, depending."

"I was in the area," he said simply, adjusting the rifle he held. He had a hard face, carved granite angles and sculpted high cheekbones. Creases around his cold eyes and expressive mouth added character. In all, an extremely good-looking man.

Not that she was affected by his handsomeness, of course. It was just an objective, casual observation.

"The name's Reed. Zane Reed." He slung the rifle over his shoulder and moved in. "I need to speak to you."