Shotgun Bride (11 page)

M
ain Street swelled with cattle, cowboys, and soldiers, and the dust rose in gritty clouds, as if a sudden storm had just swept in out of nowhere. The din of rowdy men and bawling beef added to the chaos, and Mandy took a step back from the window of the hotel room Rafe and Emmeline shared, shaking her head.

Emmeline, resting with her feet up and looking wan, laid aside the book she’d been pretending to read and favored Mandy with a strained smile. “Have we been invaded?” she asked, starting to get up.

“Looks that way,” Mandy said, waving Emmeline back into repose. “You stay right where you are.”

A small frown creased the space between Emmeline’s eyes, but she rested against the pillows plumped behind her. “It’s not as if I’m sick,” she protested.

“No,” Mandy agreed firmly, “but you might take a turn if you aren’t careful. I promised Rafe and Becky I’d look after you, and I meant what I said.” It was going to be hard, leaving Emmeline behind, but to Mandy’s mind that was better than staying on and putting her and the rest of the town in the path of Gig Curry’s wrath.

Emmeline smiled a little; she was strong, but maybe, Mandy thought, she enjoyed being pampered now and then. “Did you tell Kade about that dreadful man bothering you down by the creek the other day?”

Mandy debated between truth and expediency, a quandary she often faced. “Yes,” she said, averting her eyes. “He said he’d take care of it, and we oughtn’t to worry.” She poured a glass of water from the carafe and took it to Emmeline. “Drink this. You look peaky.”

Emmeline took the glass, sipped. “You fuss too much, and so does Rafe.” Her eyes twinkled, and she confirmed Mandy’s suspicions: “But I like it.”

As if conjured by the mention of his name, Rafe thrust open the door and stepped into the room. His expression, normally solemn, changed when his gaze fell upon Emmeline. He crossed to her, bent and kissed her smartly on the forehead.

Mandy felt a sweet sting of—something. She wasn’t sure what it was—envy, perhaps, or simple loneliness. What would it be like, she wondered, to have a man look at
her
that way, with his heart in his eyes? Most likely, she would never know; such joys were meant for other women, not the spawn of outlaws.

Emmeline set the glass aside and laid a hand to her husband’s cheek. “You look so worried,” she said with a tenderness that struck Mandy to the heart. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Rafe sighed and straightened. “Just stay well,” he said gruffly. “I can handle most anything as long as I know you’re all right.”

Mandy felt a hot, dry sensation behind her nose, and her eyes burned. The moment was profoundly private, and there she was, an unwilling intruder. Kade’s image filled her mind and she willfully pushed it away.

“I feel the same,” Emmeline said softly, taking his big hand and giving it a squeeze with her own small one. “I realize you’ve got to find that money, Rafe, and I know it weighs heavy on you, that those soldiers died trying to bring it here, but I want your promise that you won’t put yourself in the way of a bullet. I won’t know a moment’s peace unless you give me your word.”

Mandy’s heart came to a hammering stop in her chest. Only a moment before, she’d been caught up in a storm of poignant emotions, all of them secondhand. Now, she forgot everything but a single concern. “There was a robbery?” she gasped. “A killing?”

Both Emmeline and Rafe looked at her in surprise. Maybe they’d forgotten she was there or simply thought she’d known. Rafe explained that a detachment of privates and corporals had been murdered, and a great deal of money stolen.

Mandy gripped the edge of the bureau for support. “Gig and his gang,” she murmured.

“Wasn’t that the man—?” Emmeline began, frowning again.

Mandy didn’t pause to reply. She was fixed on one thing, and that was finding Kade McKettrick in that confusion of men and cattle taking over the town. Urgency sent her blood speeding through her veins.

She tracked him to the Bloody Basin Saloon, after several false leads, and even though the place was jammed with midday revelers, a confounded silence fell when she pushed open the swinging doors and stepped boldly inside. Cowboys stared at her, mugs of beer and shots of whiskey poised halfway to their mouths. The balls on the billiard table froze where they were, and the roulette wheel ceased its familiar, rhythmic clatter.

The bartender trundled over, wiping meaty hands on a stained apron as he drew near. “Now, Sister,” he began, breaking the ominous pause, “if you’ve come here to spread the word of the Lord—”

Mandy quelled him with a glance. “I’m looking for the marshal,” she said clearly. Kade, seated at a table in a far corner of the room with Jeb, Angus, and a couple of men in blue uniforms, stood and ambled toward her, the shadow of a grin playing on his lips but just missing his eyes.

“Well, now,” he said, coming to a stop a few feet away. The distance between them was at once too narrow and too wide. “What can I do for you, Sister?”

“I need to talk to you,” she said, almost hissing the declaration. “Right now.” She hiked up her chin, painfully conscious of the blush rising up her neck to pound in her cheeks. Her heart felt like a wild bronco trying to kick its way out of a chute. “Alone.” Reluctantly, the customers went back to their carousing, but she was aware of curious glances coming at her from every direction.

Kade took her arm and hustled her out onto the street with less decorum than she would have preferred.

“What?” he demanded. “If this is about the horse race, I’ve been a little busy.”

Mandy flushed again, and so deeply that it hurt. “It was Gig Curry,” she blurted out, after glancing this way and that, lest she be overheard. The street was still jammed with cattle and men, but no one appeared to be listening. “He and his outfit were behind those murders, and the robbery, too. I know they were.”

“Who?” Kade asked, frowning now. He had hold of her elbow again, and this time he squired her into the nearest alleyway. The noise and smell of the cattle subsided a little, which was a mercy.

“Gig Curry,” Mandy went on, growing impatient. “He was probably the one to burn out those homesteaders, too. If there’s trouble, you can bet Curry had a part in it!”

Kade’s frown deepened. The lines around his eyes came into play, but this time it had nothing to do with laughter. His grip on her arm tightened, and his voice was a rasp. “What’s he to you?”

Mandy jerked free. “He was my mother’s man, till he deserted her, anyway. That was him, bothering me behind the hotel that day.”

“And you think he was involved in the robbery?”

“I
know
he was.”

“Where is he now?”

“Around someplace,” Mandy said, wheeling her arms once in frustration. “I try my best to keep out of his way, so he and I don’t socialize.”

“You sure took your sweet time telling me about this!” He leaned in, and the look in his eyes stung her beyond reason. What was this man to her? Nothing, that’s what. He lived in another world, one she could never enter or fully understand.

Mandy stood toe-to-toe, calling on bravado, her stock-in-trade. “I didn’t know about the soldiers until this morning, when Emmeline mentioned it! Now, are you going to stand around here yelling at me, or are you going to find him before something else happens?”

“You’re damn right I’m going to find him,” Kade retorted, rapid-fire, “as soon as I’m through with you. You might not have heard about those men being killed, but you sure as
hell
knew what happened to Sam and Sarah Fee, and you knew the McKettricks were taking the blame on account of that brand! That makes me wonder—
Sister Mandy
—just whose side you’re really on!”

Guilt washed over Mandy, and she subsided, if only slightly, unconsciously smoothing the hated habit. Drat, what she wouldn’t give for a pair of pants, a cotton shirt, and boots. As for Kade’s challenge, she let that pass; she was on her
own
side, and if Kade McKettrick couldn’t work that out for himself, she wasn’t going to lead him by the nose. “I guess I figured that thing about the brand would blow over,” she admitted, still huffy.

“‘Blow over’?” Kade rasped. “Range wars have started over a hell of a lot less than that! By God, if you weren’t dressed up like a nun, I do believe I’d take you over my knee right here and now!”

“You want to draw back a bloody stump, Kade McKettrick, you just
try
laying a hand on me!”

Kade yanked his hat off, whacked the wall of the Cattleman’s Bank with it, and slammed it back on his head. A ray of dusty sunlight caught on his badge. “One of these days, Mandy—”

“Don’t you dare threaten me!”

It was right then, of all times, that he remembered their first meeting, five years back, in Cave Creek. She saw it happen, just what she’d been dreading all along, saw his eyes widen and then go narrow, saw his lips tighten. A muscle bunched in his cheek and he clamped his jaw down tight. “I’ll be damned if you’re not the little thief who took my wallet and sweet-talked your way out of a good paddling. I should have followed through when I had the chance!”

Mandy bit her lower lip. “But you didn’t,” she said quietly. She’d been just fifteen when she’d first encountered Kade, stealing to keep herself and Cree and her mama alive, and to keep Gig from beating the life out of them for coming back to camp empty-handed.

He relented, but not appreciably. “Amanda Rose,” he said in a dangerous undertone, shaking a finger at her, “you and I are going to come to terms about a few things. I don’t have time to hash this out right now, but you can bet your rosary beads it’s going to happen, and it’ll be soon!”

She sighed. “I reckon so,” she said, resigned. Now that Kade knew her for what she was, she didn’t have a chance with him. But, then, she’d never had one anyhow—had she? And since when had she even
wanted
one? It was all too confusing.

“If you know anything else about this Curry, if you have
any idea
where I might find him and the bastards he rides with, you’d better tell me right now!”

“I swear I don’t,” she said, squaring her shoulders and making herself meet Kade’s furious gaze.

“Is this what Emmeline wanted to talk to me or John about?”

Pained, Mandy nodded. “He showed up on the Triple M the other day—Gig, I mean. He—he threatened me.”

Kade spoke tersely. “What did he want?”

“He was asking about my brother, Cree. Listen, if you’ll just lend me a horse, I’ll hit the trail right away. Gig’s sure to follow me, and—”

“That’s a harebrained idea if I’ve ever heard one!”

That rankled. Mandy put her hands on her hips. “I told you, Kade. He’s an
outlaw.
This town hasn’t seen the beginning of the trouble he could cause, he and that gang he’s probably running with!”

“And you figure getting yourself killed would save the rest of us? That’s a damn fool notion, Sister Mandy, and I’ll be horsewhipped before I’ll let you follow through with it!”

“Have you got any better suggestions?”

He swore roundly, slapped his thigh with his hat. “No. But you’re not going to be the sacrificial lamb. That much I’m sure of, at least.”

“We need to smoke them out some way,” Mandy mused.

Kade was simmering down to a steady boil. “How?” He snapped the word, and it cracked in the air like a whip.

“He wants to use me to get to my brother, Cree,” she told him, barely able to get the words out. “If I’m the bait, he’ll step square into whatever trap you set for him.”

Kade stood silently for a moment, still visibly resisting the idea. “I believe we just decided against that course of action,” he pointed out. “Too dangerous.”

“Not as dangerous as having him running loose out there, with a bunch of killers to do his bidding,” Mandy argued, gesturing with one hand. “I pinched your wallet, and you could have had me put in jail, so I figure I owe you. You want Gig Curry? Then let me help you get him.”

“I don’t like it,” he said, after another interval of pondering the matter, and shook his head resolutely.

Mandy watched him, her arms folded. “The way I see it, Marshal, you’re fresh out of choices. If Gig and his gang stole that fifty thousand dollars and killed those poor men, he’ll lie low for a while, then strike again. Chances are, they’re just biding their time until they can pull off something a lot bigger, and they might even be behind the squabble between the Triple M and the Circle C. They’d want to keep folks distracted while they got everything in place.”

Kade took all that in and swore again. “You’ve got all that worked out in your head, and you were just going to hightail it out of here and hope he’d give chase? Did it ever occur to you that he might just ride straight back here, after he’d killed you, and carry on as before?”

“Hell—heck no. I meant to shoot the scoundrel. He might get me, but he wouldn’t walk away without a bullet or two to show for the effort.”

“Your confidence is amazing. And that’s purely the most idiotic theory I’ve ever run across!”

“Like I said before, if you’ve got a better idea, let’s hear it.”

Again, a curse from Kade, rounder and more colorful and vociferous than any that had preceded it.