The Heart's Pursuit (14 page)

Silver answered the soft knock on the bedroom door. Whitney stood on the other side of the doorway.

“Sorry to disturb you, Miss Matlock. I wondered if there’s anything you need to make you more comfortable?”

“Thank you, no. I have everything I need.” She touched her still-damp hair. “And the bath was heavenly.”

A breeze rustled the curtains over the open window and brought with it the muffled voices of two men on the balcony. Tom and Jared. Over supper in the Hanover suite earlier in the evening, Silver had learned a little about Jared and the young couple’s friendship. Hearing the story of how Tom had been wrongfully accused of murder and how Jared had tracked down the real killer had made her see him in a new light. His work wasn’t just about the bounty he earned when he brought in a criminal. According to the Hanovers, Jared was motivated by a need for justice above all else. It pleased her to know this about him. Perhaps pleased her more than it should.

Whitney said, “Jared says you’ll leave at first light.”

“Yes.”

“Then I shouldn’t keep you. You need to get a good night’s rest.”

“Mrs. Hanover—”

“Please. Call me Whitney.”

Silver smiled, thinking it strange how much she’d disliked the woman when she first saw her and how much she liked her now. “Whitney. In case I haven’t said it already,
thanks so much for your hospitality. This”—she motioned toward the bed—“is a nice reprieve from sleeping on the ground.”

“I would feel the same way. All those hours in the saddle, sleeping under the stars, risking life, limb, and the disapproval of others.” Whitney started to turn away, then stopped and looked at Silver again. “You must love him a great deal.”

“No, not at all. If I ever felt love for Bob Cassidy, he crushed that feeling on what should have been our wedding day. I feel nothing for him now but contempt.”

Whitney’s smile was gentle. “I didn’t mean Mr. Cassidy. I meant Jared.”

“Jared?” Silver felt her eyes go wide.

“I saw it on your face at supper. It was there whenever you looked at him.”

“Whitney, believe me. You’re wrong. I barely know Mr. Newman. I hired him to find Bob. That’s all that’s between us.”

“Time isn’t always what makes two people draw close to each other. Sometimes the heart understands far more than the mind, and much sooner too.”

Silver wanted to protest again, but she seemed incapable of it.

Whitney offered another knowing smile. “Good night, Silver. Rest well.”

“Good night.” Silver closed the door, turned, and leaned her back against it.

Gracious! What could have made Whitney think such a thing? Silver felt no affection for Jared Newman. Certainly not of the romantic kind. Perhaps she’d begun to admire him a little after hearing the Hanovers’ story. But that was all. Respect and admiration were as far as her feelings went.

Her dream rose up to mock her. She saw him seated on his pinto, felt his gaze turn upon her, wanted to—

Stop!
It was absurd. And dreams meant nothing.

She would have to make sure no one else misinterpreted her feelings in the future. Most of all the bounty hunter himself.

    
CHAPTER 15
    

A
s they approached Green River City three days after departing Laramie, Silver felt relief when Jared told her they would get a couple of rooms for the night. Not so much because she would enjoy sleeping in a real bed again—although she would—but because it would give her some time by herself. It seemed that she couldn’t look at Jared without Whitney Hanover’s voice echoing in her memory:
“You must love him a great deal . . . I saw it on your face at supper. It was there whenever you looked at him.”

Love him? How could she love him? She barely knew him. Jared was little more than a stranger to her. While they traveled, he rarely spoke, and it wasn’t much different when they stopped to rest the horses during the day or to camp for the night. The man was private with his thoughts and
his past. She’d learned more about him during their brief stay with the Hanovers than in all the other hours she’d spent with him put together.

Then there was that dream. The one that lingered in her memory, day after day.

“Sometimes the heart understands far more than the mind, and much sooner too.”

Perhaps Whitney was right. But the Bible, as her father was wont to remind her, said the heart was deceitful above all things. She’d best remember that. She’d made a bad enough mistake when she’d ignored her head’s warning about Bob Cassidy, a liar, scoundrel, and thief. She didn’t want to make an even worse one with a bounty hunter.

“There it is,” Jared said as he reined in on the crest of a hill. “Green River City.”

Embarrassed by where her thoughts had taken her once again, she followed the direction of his gaze and found the small town nestled beside the green-colored river from which it took its name. In unison they nudged their horses and started down the hillside.

Green River was much like other western towns built along the Union Pacific rail line. There was one main street bordered by a mercantile, a restaurant, a church, two saloons, the jail and county offices, a doctor’s office, and a small hotel advertising clean beds and hot baths. Dust rose up in small clouds behind horses and wagons, turning everything the same dull shade of taupe.

The pair dismounted in front of the hotel, Jared’s spurs jingling as he stepped onto the boardwalk. “You get us a couple of rooms.” He squinted at the afternoon sun. “I’ll take the horses to the livery stable and then check around town, see if I can learn anything. I’ll meet you at the restaurant across the street at six o’clock.” He took money from his pocket and offered it to her. “Can you wait that long to eat?”

Taking the coins, she nodded, thankful her stomach didn’t growl and make a liar out of her.

“Here.” He stepped off the boardwalk and removed the saddlebags from both of their horses. “You’d better take these with you.” He dropped them onto her outstretched arm. “I’ll take care of the rest of our things. See you at six.” He led the horses down the street.

As she watched him go, his long, easy gait familiar to her, a strange feeling shivered up her spine. A feeling she couldn’t define—and wasn’t sure she even wanted to try.

The man at the railroad station was certain no one meeting Bob Cassidy’s description had broken his trip at Green River over the past two weeks. “Truth be told, ain’t been nobody get off the train but folks who live here for a good month.”

The news didn’t surprise Jared. Green River wasn’t much more than a way station, a quick stop on the way to or from bigger cities west of Wyoming. Places like Virginia
City, Nevada, where he believed the man with the scar was headed.

He felt that now-familiar twinge of guilt, knowing his questions about Bob Cassidy and Matt Carlton were more of an afterthought. If Jared ever learned those two were headed away from Nevada, he would abandon any thought of bringing in Silver’s runaway fiancé.

Former
fiancé.

He thought back to the meal he and Silver had shared with Tom and Whitney. He’d been uncomfortable with the Hanovers’ words of praise as they’d told Silver what brought the three of them together. A man of honor, Tom had called him. A man who wanted justice above all else. It wasn’t very honorable to make Silver believe that finding Cassidy was his top priority. As for justice? It might be what he’d sought for Tom, but it had little to do with his hunt for the man with the scar.

Revenge was what he wanted. Stone-cold revenge.

He headed back toward the hotel, planning to clean up before meeting Silver at the restaurant. But as he walked past the saloon nearest the train station, he glanced through the window and caught sight of another familiar face.

It had been a good six months, probably closer to eight or ten, since his path had last crossed with Doug Gordon’s. The Pinkerton detective was based out of Washington, DC, but his work often brought him west of the Mississippi.

Jared pushed open the swinging door of the saloon
and walked inside. Doug looked up from his cards as Jared passed by the table, but there wasn’t even the faintest glimmer of welcome. Yet Jared knew in his gut that Doug had seen and recognized him. Which meant the detective was on the job. Fine. Jared could wait.

At the bar, he ordered his usual sarsaparilla, then turned and leaned his back against the counter. There weren’t many customers in the dimly lit, musty-smelling saloon. Two men sat at a table closest to the doorway with glasses of beer in their hands. The only other occupied table held Doug with two card players and a dealer.

About five minutes later, Doug won the pot in the center of the table. One of the other men rose, grumbling, and left the saloon. Jared took his half-empty glass and carried it to the table. “Mind if I join you?” His fingers touched the back of the recently vacated chair.

“Not at all,” Doug answered.

“My name’s Jared Newman.” He pulled out the chair and sat down.

“Jess Stone.”

That confirmed Jared’s suspicions. Doug was working. He didn’t want anyone at the table to know his real identity or occupation.

Jared glanced toward the other player.

“Perkins,” the man said, sounding less than friendly.

The dealer said, “Five-card stud,” and began shuffling the cards.

Jared turned back to Doug. “Are you from around these parts, Mr. Stone?”

“I’m here to look at some property, but I’ll be returning to the East soon. And you?”

“Arrived today. Headed for Virginia City, Nevada.”

The dealer put cards, facedown, before each player.

“And what takes you there?”

Jared shrugged. “A hunch that I might get lucky.”

“My mother told me a man had to make his own luck.” Doug tossed his ante into the center of the table.

“So I’ve heard.”

Silver checked the watch pinned to her bodice. It was six thirty and still no sign of Jared. He’d left her cooling her heels once again. It made her feel frustrated and angry and a little bit lost. Exasperating man! Well, she wasn’t going to wait for him all night. She was starved half to death.