Authors: Shirleen Davies
“I’m sure it’s no surprise how much I like you, Dax. Much more than I should, knowing you’ll most likely leave…” Her voice trailed off as she contemplated life in Splendor without Dax and how he’d become so important to her. “Once you decide how to handle your half of the ranch, there will be nothing to keep you here.”
Except you, Dax thought.
“A part of me wants to keep seeing you. Another part warns me away, believing the pain will be so much worse the more time we spend together.” Her soft green eyes captured his.
He lifted her chin with a finger. “What are you saying, Rachel?”
“I’m not sure, except I already care for you too much knowing you don’t plan to stay.” Resignation and a sadness she’d never felt before tinged her voice.
Her words pierced his heart. Most women he knew would never voice their feelings unless they already believed they knew how the other person felt. Rachel’s honesty meant a great deal to Dax and he had no idea the best way to respond. He couldn’t make promises, yet he had no desire to walk away.
He hesitated a heartbeat before bending down to place a kiss on the corner of her mouth, then one on the other corner before capturing her lips in a heated kiss. He moved his hands to her back and pulled her toward him, intensifying the contact as a sigh escaped her lips. Rachel’s hands rested on his arms, steadying her from the fiery contact that felt both right and terrifying.
His hands moved up her back, one supporting her neck, holding her in place as he shifted his mouth one way, then another. She moaned as he traced the edge of her lips with his tongue, encouraging her to open for him.
Rachel felt like fire in his arms. Her response surprised him, while warning him she wasn’t like any other woman he’d known. He’d never felt his heart trip over itself, yet it did with Rachel. He drew back, placing one more kiss on her mouth.
“We’ll take it a day at a time.” The huskiness in his voice betrayed how far he’d already fallen. “Save every Saturday night for me, and any other time I can make it into town.” He placed one more kiss to her temple, offered a smile, then turned to leave. He stopped at the corner of the clinic and looked back to see Rachel glancing over her shoulder at him as she stepped inside.
She closed the door, leaned her back against it, and took a deep breath. A hand rested on her chest, feeling the staccato rhythm of her racing heart. Common sense warned her she should let him go. Without ever experiencing it before, she knew what she felt for the wandering Texas Ranger was love. Until now, she’d had no idea how frightening falling in love could be.
Chapter Eleven
Austin, Texas
Duff Mayes sat on his horse, drenched and cold from a late spring storm that had him arriving late to his destination. He’d waited months to let things cool down before making this trip. The bank robbery his two brothers and cousins pulled off hadn’t been forgotten. Rangers never forget when one of their own dies at the hands of an outlaw, and Duff Mayes hadn’t forgotten his youngest brother, Deke, had been shot dead by a Ranger named Pelletier.
Whitey Mayes knew who followed them after the robbery—Pat Hanes and the two Pelletier brothers. He’d met them in Austin on one of his trips to check out the bank. Hanes had been well known and liked within the Texas Ranger community. The other two were a mystery. No one knew much about them, except they were ex-rebel soldiers and had been successful in tracking down all the outlaws they hunted. Just one had been brought in alive.
Duff and Whitey meant to hunt them down.
Duff slid off his horse in the front of the Rangers’ office, shook off the rain, and pushed open the door to see three men sitting around a desk. The oldest one looked up.
“Something I can do for you?”
“I’m looking for the Pelletiers.”
“That so. And who would you be?”
“Henry Johnson. I fought in the war with them.” Duff looked nothing like his wanted poster. The injury from another bank job months before had almost killed him, wasting away his muscles as well as leaving him with a permanent limp. He’d grown a scraggly brick red beard, in sharp contrast to his wavy light brown hair.
“Well, Mr. Johnson, they’ve taken some time off. I don’t know when they’ll be back. You can leave a message if you want, but I can’t guarantee they’ll get it.” The captain’s eyes narrowed on the man. Something seemed familiar—the stance, the eyes that darted around the room, never making direct contact with any of the men.
“I don’t have any plans. Maybe I’ll head their direction, see if I can catch up with ‘em.”
A short, lean Ranger dropped his boots from where they rested on the desk onto the floor. “Aren’t they up in Montana, Captain?”
“Yeah, that’s where Pat had his ranch,” another said, then stopped when his captain shot him a warning glare.
“That’s all we know, Mr. Johnson. Like I said, you’re welcome to leave them a note.” The captain stood and started around the desk, his eyes never leaving the man’s gun hand.
“I think I’ll ride up to Montana. Maybe someone’s heard of them. Don’t matter. There’s nothing keeping me in Texas.” The lie rolled off his lips with little effort. He and Whitey still owned a ranch north of Red Gulch, deeded under false names, where they raised horses and enough beef to feed them and their men.
“Up to you.”
“I appreciate the information.” Duff tipped his hat and walked back out into the storm, which had slowed to a soft rain. He’d get a room and be off early the next morning for the ranch. Within three days, he, his brother, and their cousins would be on their way to Montana and the vengeance they were due.
Splendor, Montana
“What are we going to do, Drake? We can’t let those deaths go unpunished.”
Drake assessed the man next to him, still fuming from the idiocy he and his companions had shown by attacking the group riding home from Big Pine. They’d brought it on themselves and Drake was sorely tempted to cut all of them loose. He didn’t need hotheads around to jeopardize his plans to run the Pelletiers out of the territory—or kill them.
“Well?”
The cold stare Drake shot him shut the man up. No one wanted to cross their boss, a man with little patience and no conscience.
“Drake.” They turned as King Tolbert walked toward the corral where one of the men attempted to break a green horse.
“Yes, sir?”
“I’d like a word with you.” Tolbert shifted his gaze around the group of men, some who’d been with him a long time, others Drake had hired. Those men warranted closer scrutiny.
Drake followed him into the house and closed the door as Tolbert took a seat behind his desk, not offering the man a drink. “I want to know what happened between Big Pine and Splendor. And don’t tell me you know nothing of it. I’ll not abide a lie.”
“All I know is what the men told me. Two of the men started off from your property in Big Pine earlier than the others. The rest took off some time later. They heard shooting several hours out, but by the time they reached a place where they could see what was happening, a couple of bodies were being loaded into a wagon. Must’ve been the wagon the doctor and Miss Davenport took to Big Pine for supplies. Three other men on horses were with them. That’s all I know.”
“The men didn’t consider those bodies might be the two who rode out ahead of them? Did they even think about riding up to the wagon and questioning anyone?” King’s words had hardened more with each question.
“They didn’t want to get shot at. At least that’s what they said.”
“Pelletier said more than two attacked them. Are you certain the others weren’t involved?”
“They insist they weren’t.”
“And you believe them?”
“No reason not to.”
King sat forward, leaning his arms on the desk and not missing the slight unease he saw in Drake’s eyes. “You’d stake your life on that?”
“I don’t stake my life on any man’s word, Mr. Tolbert.”
King sat back as a wary tension sliced through him. “I want you and a few men to ride the western property line. From there, you can see the comings and goings at the Pelletier place. Don’t cross onto their land. Just keep watch. I heard they’re buying more head from one of the ranchers south of town. I want to know if it’s true.”
“That all?” Drake asked as he stood to leave.
“For now.” Tolbert waited a beat. “No violence, Drake.”
Tolbert heard the click of the door close, then a tapping before Abby poked her head into his study.
“Hello, Father. Do you have time to take me to town today?”
Guilt tugged at King. He had no time to take his daughter to town, yet knew he’d not refuse her. He pulled out his pocket watch. “Be ready in an hour. You can do your shopping before we have dinner at the boardinghouse.”
A huge smile split her face, reminding him it wouldn’t be long before she would find someone and begin a life of her own. He’d have to make certain she decided on the right man.
“Good day, Mr. Tolbert, Miss Abigail. Take a seat anywhere you’d like and I’ll be right with you.” Suzanne had never taken to King Tolbert and the way he’d shipped his daughter off at an early age to be raised in the east, moving from one private boarding school to another as she got older.
“I’ll be right back, Abby. I need to speak with Horace.” He crossed the few feet to where the banker sat alone, finishing his meal.
Abby took the opportunity to follow Suzanne to the kitchen. She’d been on the woman’s heels from a young age, always curious as to the happenings in the restaurant. Suzanne felt certain the girl’s education hadn’t included cooking classes.
“Are you sure it’s all right with your father to be in the kitchen with me?”
“Oh, yes. He’s speaking with Mr. Clausen. I won’t bother you long.”
“Abby, it’s never a bother to have you join me. You’re welcome anytime.” Suzanne had lost her own daughter and husband during a severe snowstorm years before. The attractive widow had never remarried, telling people she’d already had her one great love. Abby hadn’t known Suzanne’s daughter, even though they were of similar age. In Suzanne’s mind, Abby had turned into the type of young woman she thought her daughter would have become—smart, quiet, pretty, with a ferocious curiosity.
“What are you making?” Abby peered over Suzanne’s shoulder into a large pot.
“Lamb stew. Noah Brandt got the meat on trade for some of his work, then traded it to me for a couple dozen suppers. A good deal, don’t you think?” Suzanne noticed Abby’s eyes light up at the mention of the blacksmith. She suspected the young woman had a crush on the man and felt a pang of sorrow, knowing Tolbert would never approve of his daughter’s interest in him. An impish thought crossed her mind. “In fact, it’s time I took a bowl of this stew over to him at the livery. I’m swamped right now. Would you mind taking it over?”
Abby couldn’t conceal her enthusiasm even as she tried to hide it. “I’d be happy to help.”
Suzanne ladled up a large bowl, wrapped cornbread in a cloth, and handed both to Abby. “There you go. By the time you’re back, I’ll have your meal ready.”
Abby didn’t even glance at her father, just walked straight to the livery, being careful not to spill the stew.
Noah’s eyes grew wide at the sight of Abby carrying a bowl and knew Mrs. Briar had sent her with his meal.
“Miss Abigail, let me take that.” He set the food aside, wiping his blackened hands on his pants and pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to clean what he could from his face. “Does your father know you’re here?”