The Bounty Hunter's Redemption (17 page)

His stomach knotted. Carly would not allow a man like him to sully her life. Her son’s life. Only a fool would think otherwise.

When he gave Henry those riding lessons, he’d hold the boy at arm’s length. Far better for everyone.

* * *

The badge on his chest gleaming in the ray of sunlight streaming in the window, Sheriff Truitt doffed his Stetson. “Afternoon, Mrs. Richards.”

The big man’s gaze darted past Carly to Anna sitting at the sewing machine, keeping a watchful eye on the needle as she ran up a seam. “Mrs. Hankins.”

The hum of the treadle stopped. Pink tinged Anna’s cheeks. “Hello, Sheriff Truitt.”

“Nice Easter service yesterday.”

“Yes, I especially enjoyed the singing,” Anna said.

Sheriff Truitt leaned near Anna’s shoulder. “Looks like the Schwartz wedding has you ladies hard-pressed. Can’t think when Gnaw Bone’s had a bigger shindig. Good thing Josiah owns half the buildings in town.”

Anna smiled up at him. “We’ll make the deadline, Sheriff.”

“Given name’s Thor, if you’ve a mind to use it.”

“Thor’s a strong name, fitting for a sheriff.”

Carly bit back a smile. Why, Sheriff Truitt actually blushed. And Anna hadn’t even used his first name. If he was attracted to Anna, who knew where that could lead? Anna might choose being a contented wife over an overworked shopkeeper.

A pang of remorse nipped Carly’s stomach. How could she even consider such a possibility with Anna mere weeks into losing the husband she adored?

But, perhaps one day, after the mourning period, Anna and the sheriff might suit. Why wouldn’t Sheriff Truitt find Anna appealing? She never had a bad thing to say about anyone. She worked tirelessly. Had endless patience with Henry. Even patience with that brother of hers, who surely worried her half to death.

Carly’s heart hitched in her chest. Would Nate survive a showdown with Stogsdill?

As she snipped the fine muslin for the last of the countless petticoats required by the bride, Carly said casually, “Sheriff, any idea when the circuit judge might arrive in town?”

Sheriff Truitt whacked his Stetson on the side of his leg. “Almost forgot why I stopped. I got a wire from Judge Rohlof. His horse threw him on his head. He’s got a concussion.”

Carly gasped. “Oh, no. I suppose that will delay his arrival.”

“Yes, ma’am. How long of a delay depends on when his symptoms improve.”

With everything in her, Carly wanted the issue decided and Nate gone.

“You and Anna might have to work things out between you.”

As if Nate would agree to any solution that didn’t result in Anna’s ownership of the shop.

The sheriff’s gaze traveled between Carly and Anna. When neither spoke, he exhaled like a train pulling into the station, the engine releasing steam. “Well, better skedaddle,” he said, and then banged through the door, setting the bell overhead dancing.

“Sheriff Truitt feels caught in the middle,” Carly said.

Anna’s eyes filled with disquiet. “I feel the same.”

Why did Carly have to like the woman who could ruin her life? “Me, too.”

In truth, she and Anna probably could work something out but, like Nate, Carly wasn’t confident the shop could support her and Henry, as well as Anna. Once Vivian moved to Cincinnati with her new husband, she’d find a local dressmaker there. Other than Mrs. Schwartz and a few regular customers, most women in town either made or bought factory-made clothes, except for special occasions.

“Sheriff Truitt’s a nice man,” Anna said.

“I think he’s smitten with you.”

Anna’s jaw dropped. “Why would you believe that?”

“Call it female intuition.” Carly studied her. “How would you feel about that?”

“
If
you’re right, I’m surprised. And, well...flattered. I’m not ready for romance, you understand.” A flush bloomed in her cheeks. “But, if I were, the sheriff’s very nice.”

“Why would you find his interest surprising? You’re pretty, wise, kind. You have a lot to offer a man.”

“Most men find my lameness unsettling, even repulsive. I wouldn’t expect a handsome, masculine man like Sheriff Truitt to get past my disability.” She sighed. “Besides, I’m always sitting when he visits. He may not realize I’m handicapped.”

“Of course he does. He’s seen you at church twice now.”

A smile played on her lips. “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Maybe you two can be a comfort to each other. A few years back Sheriff Truitt’s wife and baby died in childbirth.”

“Oh, my, the poor man. I wish there was some way I could help.”

Anna’s heartaches hadn’t closed her heart, as Carly’s had. But then, Anna hadn’t been married to Max.

“I can name another man who’s smitten,” Anna said. “I couldn’t help but notice a spark between you and Nate, Saturday evening.”

“Are you sure you’re not imagining that? I know you want Nate to settle down.”

“Yes, but not with just anyone.” Anna arched a brow. “Are you sure you’re not deceiving yourself?”

“He’s attractive, I’ll admit, but I’ll never remarry.”

“Why? Don’t you believe God gives second chances for happiness?”

If He did, why had God allowed Max to gamble the deed in a poker game? All Carly needed to be happy was this shop and Henry. “I failed my son once. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Nate’s patient and gentle with your son. He would never mistreat Henry.”

“I don’t want to upset you, Anna, but your brother is a wanderer like Max and set on vengeance. He
will
leave. And when he does, he’ll hurt my son, whether he means to or not.”

Tears welled in Anna’s eyes. “I hadn’t thought of that. I’m afraid you’re right.”

Never more sure of anything, Carly slid the shears through the white cambric, snipping along an invisible line, leaving a crisp, clean cut. That spark between her and Nate was stronger than she’d admit to Anna. But no matter how much she was attracted to the man, she would cut him out of her life as cleanly as she did this nightgown.

She wouldn’t get involved with a man who would fail her son. A lump the size of a walnut lodged in her throat. Was it already too late? Henry followed Nate around, hung on Nate’s every word, and beamed whenever Nate entered a room. Upon occasion she’d caught her son even mimicking Nate’s stance, feet apart, hands in his back pockets.

Carly had tried to believe she was enough, but Henry craved a man in his life. Nate Sergeant was exactly the wrong man.

The judge’s concussion not only delayed the hearing, it delayed Nate’s departure. The longer he remained, the more Henry’s life would get entangled with the bounty hunter.

When Nate left, he would break her son’s heart.

Carly’s breath caught. Perhaps even hers.

Chapter Thirteen

H
enry took to his first riding lesson like a pig to clover.

Nate grinned at the boy, up on that gray-and-white mare. The brim of a tattered cowboy hat pulled low to shade his eyes, the toes of his dusty boots thrust into the shortened stirrups, Henry resembled a pint-size cowpoke.

A few feet away, Carly leaned against the corral, her shoulders barely clearing the top rail. She was a petite woman, yet carried herself tall, as if that feisty spirit of hers buoyed her spine.

Even with the deadline at the shop, she’d stayed to watch, putting her son before her job. No doubt she’d work half the night to make up for the lost time. Nate released a breath. Why not admit it? The real reason Carly had stayed was her lack of trust in him to keep Henry safe.

Between teaching him to saddle the mare and hold and use the reins, the hour had flown. At first Nate had walked alongside the horse, ready to grab Lady’s bridle. But each trip around the corral with Henry directing the horse had increased his confidence and skill.

“Good job, son,” Carly said as they passed. “Proud of you for listening carefully to instructions.”

At his mother’s praise, Henry thrust out his chest, a happy grin on his face. “Thanks, Mama!”

The mare tossed her head to look at the lightweight on her back.

“Look, Lady smiled at me. Well, kinda. Nate, do horses smile?”

“Not sure, but if they do, Lady would surely smile at you.”

“Yep, ’cause she likes me.”

The large hat resting on Henry’s bent earlobes made him cuter than a bug’s ear. “Why not? You’re very likable,” Nate said, turning toward Carly. “Like your mom.”

“Are you fishing for an invitation to supper?”

Nate took hold of the bridle and led Lady to the fence. “No, ma’am. You don’t have time to entertain with that big order to finish.” He grinned. “Anna gets home so tired I’ve been doing the cooking.”

“What are you serving your sister, hardtack and beans?”

“Nope, real victuals like fried beefsteak and potatoes.”

Carly’s mouth gaped.

“Careful, or you’ll swallow one of those flies pestering Lady,” Nate said, giving her a wink. “Not as tasty as my chow.”

Carly chuckled. “Not sure that’s much of a recommendation.”

“I take you for a brave woman. Would you be willing to give my cooking a try?”

“I might.” Her dark lashes swept her rosy cheeks, and then lifted to meet his gaze. “Remember, nothing about you scares me. Not even your cooking.”

Her words were a reminder of their first meeting but, unlike then, her tone was soft and teasing. When had she looked prettier? More desirable? When had life seemed more promising?

He waggled his brows. “I find a sassy woman appealing,” he said, leaning closer.

They stared into each other’s eyes. Everything around them faded, leaving only the two of them. An extraordinary woman and a man captivated by her charm.

“Nate, do horses sleep standing up?”

For a moment Nate had forgotten Henry. A small boy would not be ignored for long. “Horses may lie down for an occasional nap, but they usually sleep standing up.”

“If I sleeped standing up, I’d fall down. Why don’t they fall down? Huh, Nate?”

“Guess God made them that way.”

“Why?”

The boy had more questions than a mangy mutt had fleas. “For their protection. If a horse is on his feet and senses danger, he’s ready to run.”

Henry chattered on about the sleeping habits of dogs, Maizie in particular. The boy’s delight in the world around him made Nate smile. Who wouldn’t enjoy this boy? His gaze slid to Carly. And his mother? Their presence in his life had become as natural as the sun and wind.

“Nate knows everything, Mama,” Henry said.

The adoration in the boy’s eyes, as if Henry saw Nate as a hero—or a father figure—spiraled inside him. That would never do; wasn’t part of his plan. He didn’t want Henry to be hurt. The quicker he finished this lesson, the quicker he could send mother and son on their way.

Nate unfastened the gate. “Henry, real easy like, pull slightly on the right rein, the one nearest me, and Lady will head through the gate.”

With a sober nod, Henry obeyed. Immediately the mare turned right and walked through the opening. “I did it! Just like I drove the buggy. Did you see me, Mama?”

Carly nodded. “Sure did.”

Henry was a mirrored version of himself at that age. Nate’s mind traveled back to the first time he’d ridden his horse at a trot. “Did you see me, Pa?” Nate had called. His father had been quick to praise, and Nate had soaked it up like thirsty ground.

Every boy needs—no, deserves—approval
.

“I can’t wait to tell the kids at school I rode a horse.”

Carly turned to Nate, amusement lighting her eyes. The tension he’d seen around her mouth when she’d first arrived replaced with a stunning smile.

That smile socked Nate like a punch to the gut. How could he remain indifferent to the woman when she looked at him that way?

Nate took hold of the bridle and led horse and rider toward the livery. Carly joined them, walking alongside her son on the opposite side of the horse.

“Henry, I like the relaxed way you hold the reins and how you sit tall and easy in the saddle,” Nate said. “Lady senses your confidence and that puts her in the mood to cooperate.”

“Lady likes me. She does whatever I say.”

“Don’t let Nate’s praise go to your head, young man, and start getting careless,” Carly warned in a gentle tone.

Nate set a box beneath the stirrup for Henry to dismount. “You did a fine job, but your mother’s right. Horses are big and strong. They can throw you off or rub your leg against a fence post or pack a wallop with a hoof. We need to respect that and be careful.”

Henry gave a nod, then threw his right leg over the saddle. As he dismounted, his boot snagged in the stirrup and he tumbled, letting out a shriek, his arms pinwheeling.

Whinnying and tossing her head, the mare sidestepped.

“Whoa,” Nate said, swooping in and scooping up the boy.

Henry wrapped his arms around Nate’s neck, burrowing into his chest. Nate didn’t see Henry’s big brown eyes or seven-year-old frame. He saw Anna crumpled in the road. The horse’s back hoof coming down. The horrifying, sickening crack. Anna’s cries. In those few seconds, his sister’s life forever changed.

“Nate? You okay?”

Carly was looking at him with a mixture of confusion and gratitude in her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

As Henry clung to his neck, a strong desire seized Nate. To protect the boy, to make sure nothing ever harmed Henry as it had Anna. “You’re okay,” Nate murmured against Henry’s ear.

“You seemed in a daze for a minute there,” Carly said. “What happened?”

“Nothing. I’m...just relieved Henry didn’t get hurt.” Nate put the boy on his feet and knelt in front of him. “It’s good to be confident, but carelessness can get you injured. You got in a hurry dismounting.”

Tears sprang into Henry’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Nate gave the boy’s too big hat a tug. “No damage done. Just remember to move slow and easy around a horse. So you won’t get hurt.”

Henry looked up at him. “Did a horse hurt you?”

“No,” Nate said. “But a horse hurt someone I cared about.”

“Who?” Henry asked in the direct way of a child. A child who didn’t know the painful scar a simple question could open.