Missy Meets the Marshal (Lone Star Love Book 2) (10 page)

"Okay, Grover," was all Missy could say.

What Missy couldn't bring herself to tell him was that she'd already come up with a plan of her own, a plan she knew he wouldn't like, but one that would ensure both his safety and that of her daughter. He would have to understand and resign himself to her decision. There was no other way.

Chapter 9 - What Fools Do

In the late morning of the next day, Grover paid Henry a visit. Whereas Missy felt inclined to bribe Henry, Grover felt inclined to threaten him, but he didn't indulge in that notion for long. He decided his approach would be to reason with him. Perhaps the shopkeeper possessed a shred of compassion and would come to view Missy as he did—as a victim, not a criminal. As he walked to the shop, he felt sad. He knew it was next to impossible that Henry would be moved, but he had to at least try.

Grover walked in and got right to the point. "Henry, I hear you talked to my wife without my being at the house, and I'm not pleased about it."

In a cowardly move that didn't go unnoticed by Grover, Henry walked behind his counter, using it as a barrier between them. He eyed Grover suspiciously. "I'd think a lawman would be more displeased to discover his wife's a bank robber than by a concerned citizen paying her a visit."

Grover plucked a strip of black licorice from the glass jar on the counter and took a bite. He pointed the licorice at the shopkeeper. "Let's get one thing straight, Henry. I knew who I married when I married her. I helped her disguise her identity. She lied to you yesterday about me not knowing."

A look of surprise crossed Henry's face before he grunted. "Seems she's real good at lying. She's a liar, and you're a fool, Marshal."

"That's just the thing, Henry. She's not a good liar. She's terrible at it because she's a good person. That's why I'm here—to try to convince you of that. You're probably right about me being a fool, though. I can see I'm barking at a knot right now."

"She robbed a bank. You think she's a good person? What kind of a marshal are you?"

"I'm a damned fine one," Grover growled. "I protect this town from people like her first husband, who abused her and threatened her into joining him on his bank heist. I'm only a man, I make mistakes, but I've always done my level best to serve the citizens of this town bravely and honorably, and that's always included you, Henry."

"The law's the law, Marshal. You broke it. She broke it. It's as simple as that. You're trying to befuddle things, but I won't be befuddled."

"What do you plan to do with this information, Henry?"

He shifted nervously and averted his gaze. "You think I'm going to tell you? I don't see you as my marshal anymore. You're as bad as any criminal, and my plans are none of your concern."

"If I were as bad as any criminal, you honestly think you'd still be alive? I have a gun in my holster I could draw as quick as you drew your next and final breath. What you know could ruin my wife, take away her freedom, maybe even her life, and yet here I am talking to you man-to-man with no intent on harming you."

Grover ate the last bite of his licorice, fished a coin from his pocket, and flicked it at the shopkeeper. The nickel spun, then clinked on the counter. "Obeying the law isn't what makes someone a good person, Henry. I know this because my wife, who has disobeyed it, is ten times the person you'll ever be, and you obey every letter."

With that, Grover strode out the door. He felt better getting that off his chest, but he knew he'd done nothing to solve the issue. He considered what might happen next if he didn't act fast. He doubted Henry would try to capture Missy and travel with her all the way to the sheriff in Dallas. It was a good two days' journey, and Henry didn't have the skill or energy necessary to travel off the beaten path with a woman in tow, nor would any horse unfortunate enough to be his mount. That meant Henry would most likely either wire the sheriff to inform him of Missy's presence or hire someone to capture her in exchange for a portion of the bounty. Whichever way it happened, there wasn't much time, and he had to figure out a new plan, quickly.

The moment Grover opened the door to his house following his visit to the shop, he knew something was wrong. The air felt stagnant, like it hadn't moved for hours. The baby cried at the top of her lungs from the bedroom, and Grover felt dread wash over him. Missy was gone. He rushed to the room, hoping the instincts he'd always trusted were wrong and he would find Missy there, but as usual, his instincts were only too correct. Next to the baby on the bed laid an envelope with his name written on it.

He lifted the crying child into his arms and carried her and the envelope to the sofa in the living room, where he sat. As he read the letter, his anger and fear boiled to a height previously unknown to him. Never had he felt so angry at someone, and never had he felt so afraid.

Dearest Grover,

I've decided to leave, though it pains me greatly. I weep as I write this, but I can't stay here with you in good conscience, knowing that my presence endangers your job and freedom. Please know that my time with you has been the happiest of my life. I won't forget your kindness to me.

My plan is to head west and make a new life for myself, and with any luck I'll be successful. However, if I'm captured, I'll face punishment bravely knowing that Hannah Lou is safe with you. If I'm killed, I'll die bravely for the same reason.

Please take care of my precious daughter and tell her how much I love her when she's old enough to understand. I love you, Grover, with all my heart. Please don't be angry with me. Please think of me fondly, but with the understanding that you're better off without me.

I love you always.

Missy

Hannah Lou screamed bloody murder in his ear, her face beet red with the exertion of it. Grover bounced her gently against his chest. "I feel the same way, baby girl," he murmured. He rubbed her back in an effort to soothe her, but it didn't help. It dawned on him that she was probably hungry, and Grover had no idea how or what to feed her. He racked his brain and came to a decision. He stood suddenly, and the letter in his lap floated to the middle of the floor.

He locked his front door behind him and walked to Jake's Livery, only to discover his mare gone from her stall. "Add horse theft to your list of crimes, Missy," he muttered in a surge of fury, though it was the least of his causes for anger.

For a fee, Jake lent him another horse. Holding Hannah Lou firmly in the crook of his right arm and the reins in his left hand, he cantered to the Barnes' cabin to ask yet another favor of Anna, and this time also a favor of Carter.

Carter wasn't home when Grover deposited the caterwauling baby into Anna's arms. Grover explained what happened as best he could over the shrieks of two infants and a toddler clanging a pot on the hardwood floor.

Anna said what she could to comfort him. "Go on, Grover. I'll take care of Hannah here, don't you worry. I'll nurse her just as soon as you leave. Carter's at the range."

He grabbed Anna's hand and kissed her knuckles. "Thank you, Anna. Once again."

"It's nothing," she said, a blush rising to her cheeks. She closed the door as Grover left.

He cantered to the range and found Carter branding cattle with his men. After waving him down, Grover explained the situation and asked that he join him in his search for Missy. Carter let out a piercing whistle to get the attention of his foreman and pointed away from the range to indicate his departure.

The rancher mounted a horse and shook his head. "That's a fool for a wife you have, Grover, putting herself in danger to save you." Carter directed his gelding toward the dirt trail. "Sounds an awful lot like what you did for her, so I reckon you two fools are right for each other. Any idea where she's headed?"

Grover scoffed. "As a matter of fact, I do. She told me in her letter she was going west. I guess she thought I'd be content to know that and not raise sand to find her."

Carter and Grover cantered side by side on the main path west. Grover called for a stop after a few miles, and they reined their horses to a halt. He pointed out a narrow trail to the right. "There are two paths she could take headed west. The one we're on, of course, but this here is a pig trail that runs mostly parallel after jutting out a few miles north. It would befit someone trying to hide and intending on retiring off the beaten path before nightfall."

Carter observed the small trail. "You think we should ride that?"

Grover reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a bandanna. He wiped his brow with it. "Tough to say. It depends on what she's fixin' to do. If she wants to set up camp somewhere private, she'd likely take the small trail and find a spot a ways off it. If she wants to make a lot of tracks and get as far away from Porter as she can, at the risk of her mount tuckering clear out, she'd probably stay on this beaten path. I guess I need to figure out which she'd be more likely to do."

Carter rubbed his palm on his denim-clad thigh. "We should go with your gut, your first instinct. That's what's usually right."

Grover's shoulders slumped a bit under the weight of the decision he needed to make, knowing that the wrong one could have dire consequences. "My guess is she's afraid enough of being caught by a bounty hunter that she'd ride the pig trail. She's used to living on the run, and I think it's more likely for her to think of her escape as something that will take days. I don't think she'd do something so foolish as to bake her mount the first day. But honestly, I don't rightly know. Maybe she's not in a good enough state of mind to make the smart decision."

"But your first guess is she'd go on the smaller path?"

"I guess so, yes," Grover said.

Carter steered his horse toward the small trail. "Let's go with that plan."

"I hope it's the right one. I don't have the most faith in my plans as of late."

"Speaking of, what do you plan to do when we find her, now that Henry knows who she is?"

Grover gave his mount a kick toward the trail. "You mean after I wear out my arm tanning her hide?"

At that moment they heard the thunder of galloping hooves behind them. Quickly legging their horses to the side of the path opposite the pig trail, they dismounted and took cover behind some brush, where they waited to discover who followed them at such speed.

# # #

Henry had scarcely finished tending to his wounded pride after the marshal's insults to his character before the door to his shop swung open again and Nathan Matthews swaggered in.

"How-do. I asked where I might find the fattest feller in town, and everyone led me here. Tracking you was easy as lickin' butter off a knife."

"Ah! You're the bounty hunter from Bartow. What can I do for you, Mr...?"

"Call me Nate," the man said with a smirk.

"And you can call me Henry. As luck would have it, I'm in the market for a bounty hunter."

"Are you now? Well, before we get to that, I'd like to know where the woman you think is the bank robber might be. I'd like to have a look-see."

Henry leaned forward and lowered his voice. "That's who I need a bounty hunter for. I found out she really is Elizabeth Matthews the bank robber. She goes by Missy, but it's a false name."

"You don't say?" Nathan's tone dripped with condescension.

"I do. She admitted it. She gave me this as a bribe to keep her husband out of it." Henry reached into his vest pocket and produced the silver bird brooch. He showed it to Nathan. "The marshal was in on the plan to hide her identity. She thought she could keep me quiet by giving me a bit of silver."

Nathan stared at the brooch in recognition and surprise for some time before a slow, evil grin spread over his face. "She gave that bit of silver to the town's Judas, didn't she, Henry? Seems you were right about her being Elizabeth Matthews. Tell me where she is."

Henry shook his head and stood upright from his bent position. "Oh, no. Not so fast. I want in on the bounty. I need someone to help me take her to Dallas, and if you want to be the person I hire, then you must agree to split the reward with me in exchange for my information."

Nathan continued to grin, but his eyes turned hard. "Why, of course, Henry. Fair's fair. You'll get half the bounty."

Henry nodded, and Nathan couldn't believe the shopkeeper's gullibility in thinking he'd share the money with him, if in fact that's what he was after, which it wasn't. Nathan wanted what was already his, and that was the woman with enough gall to leave him for another.

"She lives with the marshal, Grover Huntley. I'll lead you to his house. This would be a good time to see her, since Grover's likely working at the jail." Henry walked outside without noticing shock appear on Nathan's face for the second time.

Nathan cleared his throat. "Pardon me, Henry. Did you say Grover Huntley is the marshal here?"

"Yup." Henry walked along the wooden sidewalk at a remarkably fast pace. "He's broken the law by helping her, so I reckon we should take him to the sheriff in Dallas too. Although there's no bounty money in that far as I can tell, so it's probably not worth the trouble."

"No, probably not," Nathan said absently. Rage brewed inside him, which would have sent a normal man into the shakes, but Nathan was far too cold and composed for it to have that effect. Instead, he focused on how he would make Grover Huntley suffer. The man as good as stole a thousand bucks from him, killed his brother, and now had taken his wife! Kissed by a bit of lead was far too easy a way for the man to die. While following Henry to his enemy's house, Nathan removed the strap keeping his gun in place and drew his weapon. He checked to make sure it was fully loaded. Holstering it, he left the strap loose for quick access and cracked his knuckles.

Nathan stood to the side out of view while Henry knocked for several minutes on Grover Huntley's door with no answer. Nathan approached and examined the door handle.