The Bounty Hunter's Redemption (22 page)

“But if you’re wrong and Rory’s not Stogsdill—”

“Assume he is.” Nate’s voice deepened to a rumble. “Promise you’ll come to the livery.”

“I will.” Carly bit her lip. “I hope Debby hasn’t fallen in love with a criminal.”

“Evil men prey on the innocent. The helpless. The naive. Outlaw isn’t stamped on their foreheads.”

Carly bit her lower lip. “A woman wants to believe the best in a man,” she said, then turned away, walked to the window, fleeing the question in his gaze. “If you’re right, what can we do to stop Debby from marrying him?”

“We won’t do anything to alert Debby and warn Rory away.”

She whirled to face him. “And what? Let her marry the man and ruin her life?”

He desperately wanted to soothe her alarm, to make her world right again. Despite everything, a part of him still wanted to believe in happy endings.

“I won’t let Debby hitch herself to a killer.” He touched her cheek. “And I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Can you stop either, Nate?”

Nate longed to say, “You can count on me.” But could she? Really? “I’ll do my best,” he vowed.

A lump knotted Nate’s throat. He’d tried to do his best before, yet he’d let down those he loved. Would he ever be free from the path he’d taken?

No matter how much he longed to settle down, he couldn’t get caught up in the fantasy. The reason he would never share that cottage in the woods.

Chapter Sixteen

C
arly slid the needle between threads on the backside of the garment, putting the last tiny, invisible stitch in the hem of the voluminous skirt, then tying a knot and snipping the thread. This was by far the most beautiful ball gown Carly had ever created.

Her gaze swept the shop and the walk beyond. Seeing no one, she hurried to the full-length mirror and held the shimmering red confection in front of her, swaying to the tune of the Blue Danube waltz playing in her head, visualizing Nate’s strong arms around her, holding her close. His arms would cherish and protect, exactly as she’d felt during their kiss.

Her mind zipped back to the soft pressure of his lips on hers, the thrilling tingle that raised goose bumps on her arms and warmed her clear to her toes. That kiss suggested tomorrow. A relationship of permanence.

Would he kiss her again?

The bell jingled.

Carly dropped the dress and whirled to the door.

Anna stood in the entrance, smiling. “You should have a dress like that,” she said, pointing at the garment in a heap on the floor. “You looked so pretty, just now.”

Heat scorched Carly’s cheeks; what she deserved for getting caught up in a fantasy. She forced a laugh. “I have no need of such a fancy dress,” she said, gathering the garment up and laying it in the waiting box. “How was your visit with Mrs. Watkins?”

“The poor woman’s struggling,” Anna said, wiping snippets of fabric and thread from the counter and tossing them in the wastebasket. “I mainly listened.”

“I’m sure that helped more than you know.”

“She’s grateful her parents opened their home to her and Bonnie Sue. Too many widows are left with no money, no one to turn to, scrambling for a way to make ends meet.”

Anna didn’t say the words, but Carly knew Nate’s sister was referring to herself. If Carly lost the shop, how would she manage?

“I told Elnora you’re doing a wonderful job raising Henry alone. She’ll do the same.” Anna picked up two pieces of a bodice, then sat and pinned the shoulders together.

“I’m no one to pattern herself after.”

“Of course you are. You’re a terrific mother and handle a business, too.”

“I wouldn’t be able to handle this order without your help.” Carly struggled for the words she needed to say. “But, more than that, I consider you a friend.”

“I feel the same about you.”

“Not just a friend. A close friend.” Carly picked up a roll of lace for a nightgown and began pinning it to the cuffs. “I haven’t had a friend like that in years.”

“What do you mean?” Anna’s brow puckered. “Everyone in this town likes you.”

“I chat with acquaintances at church and in the shop. But I have no one I confide in like I do you.”

“Why is that?”

Carly’s hand stilled. “When I was married to Max, I didn’t want anyone to know my husband browbeat me. Most weren’t fooled.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess I was ashamed.”

“The shame lay at Max’s feet, not yours.”

“Not entirely.” As soon as the words left Carly’s mouth, she wanted to pull them back.

“Why would you say that?”

In Anna’s eyes Carly saw warmth and acceptance of someone who cared. About her. Someone Carly could trust. “I rushed into marriage,” she said, blurting the confession out before she lost her courage. “On our wedding day, I realized I’d made a huge mistake. Max showed me no tenderness, spoke not one affectionate word.” Carly returned her gaze to the nightdress in her lap, a pretty frivolous gown promising loving nights with a husband. But, not for her. She quickly looked away. “He rode out the next morning, giving me no idea when he’d return.”

Tears welled in Anna’s eyes. “What an awful man. I’m so sorry. But don’t believe you deserved that treatment,” Anna said, her tone without judgment, without criticism.

“There are consequences for what I did, for what Max did.” She raised her gaze to Anna. “Before you and I became friends, I pleaded with God to let me keep this shop.”

“Of course you did. You have a son to house and feed.”

“Max killed your husband—reason enough to lose the store,” Carly said in a voice as wobbly as a three-legged table.

“God’s not going to punish you for Max’s sins.”

Tears brimmed in Carly’s eyes. “He might.”

“Gracious, why would you think that?”

Carly shook her head, unable to admit to Anna why she’d married Max. Carly could barely believe she’d admitted the truth to Nate.

Anna set aside her work and rose to her feet, then lumbered to Carly’s side. She laid a gentle hand on Carly’s shoulder and looked deep into her eyes. “The Good Lord never forsakes us. Whatever the judge decides with that deed, God has a plan. We may not know what it is, but you and Henry and I will be okay.”

Anna saw God’s hand in every ordinary thing. She meant to comfort Carly, but what she’d said were mere words. Words would not feed her son or put a roof over his head.

“You know,” Anna said, “if the judge rules the deed is legally mine, I’ll insist upon sharing the shop right down the middle.”

“Nate would never hear of it.”

“Not because he’s unfeeling about your situation,” Anna said. “He thinks the shop won’t provide enough income.”

“He’s right. This big wedding order is unusual.”

“Have you thought about expanding? Making hats maybe?”

“I don’t know the first thing about creating hats, except that milliners need special equipment I don’t have.” She nibbled her lower lip, thinking. “But stylish shoes might sell. Ladies in this town might appreciate a choice other than Stuffle Emporium’s humdrum clodhoppers.”

“Exactly. We’re resourceful women. With God’s help we can give ourselves a happy ending. Like a fairy tale.” Anna gave a confident smile, then picked up the bodice and sat at the sewing machine. Soon the whir of the machine filled the shop.

If only they could find a way to increase sales.

If only Carly could have that happy fairy-tale ending.

The memory of Nate’s kiss gripped her, all but cutting off her breath. If only—

She stiffened her spine, refusing to consider the cottage in the woods. Stories of knights rescuing damsels in danger were about as likely as the talking pigs in Henry’s storybook. Everyone knew, even her young son, fairy tales were fantasy.

Carly would remember that, too. If she didn’t, she might fall in love with Nate. Then what terrible price might she and Henry pay?

* * *

Would this be a fool’s errand or provide the next lead to Stogsdill’s whereabouts? Time would tell.

As the sky bloomed with pink and orange, heralding the rising sun, Nate slapped leather on his horse, its dark coat shining with health; his one white foot the reason Nate called him Maverick.

Lloyd and Lester tromped around the livery, feeding and watering the horses.

“I should return before the first customer arrives,” Nate called.

Lester threw up a hand. “If not, you can count on us.”

With a nod, Nate led Maverick out of the barn, then swung into the saddle and rode down Main Street, quiet at this early hour. He tugged the brim of his Stetson low and, pressing a heel into Maverick’s side, they picked up speed and headed out of town.

He’d missed time in the saddle. Missed the exhilaration of riding with the wind in his face, at one with his horse. But he didn’t miss sleeping on the hard ground and meals of hardtack and cold beans. These few weeks he’d spent in Gnaw Bone, he’d grown accustomed to Anna’s home cooking, to a soft mattress and a pillow under his head.

His heart stuttered in his chest. Yes...and to the softness of Carly in his arms. And the overpowering need to protect and care for her. When had he ever felt that way before?

He and Rachel would’ve built a good life together, but he and Carly had walked through the hot coals of difficult pasts and survived. That connection was strong, like a braided whip.

Didn’t hurt one bit the woman was beautiful and could hold her own with anyone, including him, and, mothered a boy who’d captured Nate’s heart.

A couple miles outside of town, the winding road bordered woods, shooting his thoughts back to the location of that cottage in Carly’s dream. Except, these woods were littered with fallen trees and broken limbs, probably the result of a winter ice storm. A hardscrabble reminder woods weren’t some fantasy world of perfection. And fairy tales were just that. Myths. Not something to hang anyone’s future on.

That truth didn’t stop the memory of Carly’s lips under his. That truth didn’t stop the memory of their powerful attraction that left him shaken. That truth didn’t stop the memory of the overpowering yearning to settle down.

Thankfully, before anyone got hurt, she’d headed off a mistake, a happily-ever-after ending doomed to fail. He couldn’t jeopardize Carly’s safety as he had Rachel’s.

Something he should’ve considered before he’d kissed Carly.

But he could risk stopping Debby from falling into a bad marriage. The sheriff had spent a couple of days looking and had not found any wanted posters on Rory Cummins. Was the man what he claimed, or an outlaw parading as a salesman?

One way to find out. Show Debby the picture of Stogsdill.

Was he about to break a young girl’s heart? Not a task he took pleasure in. But better to break her heart now than to see her tied to a robber, a killer. A man who would drag her down with him.

If the two men were one and the same and Debby was as innocent as Carly believed, the price on Rory’s head would make Debby break off the engagement. An angry Stogsdill would make it his mission to find out why. He might even retaliate against Debby and her grandparents. Nate’s stomach knotted with a pain that burned. More names to add to the growing list of those Nate needed to protect.

But if Debby was in cahoots with the outlaw, she would report the incident to Stogsdill. And Stogsdill would come gunning for Nate. The reason he dared not get caught up in this loco desire for a gentler life with Carly and Henry and let down his guard.

At the Pence farm, an idyllic spot of gently rolling hills tinted green, all seemed right with the world. Nate rode up the lane to the two-story house.

In the barnyard Nate swung from the saddle, slapped the reins around the hitching post and walked to the porch. Had Stogsdill tainted the pristine-white clapboards of this farmhouse with his presence?

Debby opened the door to his knock, looking fresh as a daisy in a blue calico dress. From her fading smile, she was disappointed to see him. Had she expected Rory? Or merely hoped?

“Mr. Sergeant,” she said, fiddling with the ruby ring dangling from her neck. “This is a surprise.”

Nate doffed his hat. “Good morning, Miss Pence.”

“Who is it?” The door opened wider and Debby’s grandfather stepped into view, hitching a red suspender over his shoulder.

“Nate Sergeant, Grandpa. He’s a friend of Carly Richards.”

Would Carly call Nate a friend? Somehow he doubted it. Friends didn’t unsettle each other. Friends didn’t share kisses that shifted the ground under their feet. Friends didn’t erect fences to keep each other out.

“What brings you out here?” Pence said, his tone conveying an unspoken disquiet.

Nate cleared his throat. “Sir, I need to assure myself your granddaughter isn’t making a terrible mistake.” He paused, plowing a hand through his hair. “By marrying a murderer wanted by the law.”

A gasp on her lips, Debby’s eyes widened with alarm and then narrowed as red stained her cheeks. “Rory’s not an outlaw! He’s a salesman.”

Mr. Pence laid a gnarled hand on Debby’s shoulder and took a step closer. “I ain’t all that impressed with Rory. Still... That’s a serious accusation,” he said, gaze penetrating, suspicious. “Why would you say that, Sergeant?”

“Miss Pence, would you mind me asking where you first met Rory?”

“In St. Louis at Cousin Minnie’s church social. Rory’s sister attends there and introduced us.”

“Shifty Stogsdill is the outlaw I’m referring to. I suspect St. Louis is Stogsdill’s home base.”

“You’re a bounty hunter,” Pence said. “I expect you would view every man with suspicion. See every female as a possible sweetheart to this, uh, Shifty person.”

“Not every woman.” He motioned toward the ruby ring adorning Debby’s neck. “I’ve seen a ruby ring like that on Stogsdill’s hand.”

Had seen red glinting in the sun mere seconds before Stogsdill gunned down Rachel.

Pence folded his arms across his chest. “Hard to believe my granddaughter would give her heart to a killer.”

“Rory wouldn’t kill anyone,” Debby vowed. “He’s got a good job. Plans for our future. He’s exciting, makes me laugh.”

“Sometimes he makes you cry,” her grandfather said, his eyes boring into Debby’s.