A Good Man for Katie (15 page)

I must be imagining things
. She closed the book, realizing Hawthorne’s
House of the Seven Gables
probably wasn’t the best choice. She shouldn’t be reading about witches and death.

As promised, Edna brought a big bowl of chicken and dumplings. The steam rising from the thick soup tantalized her, made her mouth water and her stomach growl with anticipation. She picked up her spoon and tasted the concoction. Pure pleasure made her sigh as a dumpling melted on her tongue and before she realized it, she scraped the bottom of the bowl, finishing every drop.

Stomach now full and quiet, she watched Edna bustle from table to table, removing dirty dishes and wiping surfaces clean. All thoughts of Emeline’s warning to mind her own business went straight out of her head. If anyone would know anything, it would be Edna. She had the kind of face that invited confessions and confidences. And she knew everyone.

Kathryne glanced around the restaurant—aside from herself, only one other person still sat at a table and sopped up the last of his dinner with a piece of Edna’s biscuits. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized Deputy Montrose was the other diner. She hadn’t had much opportunity to speak with him, but on the rare occasions when she did, he seemed nice enough. Much nicer, in fact, than either Sheriff Townsend or Deputy Long.

Edna hustled to her table and refilled her coffee cup. “Sit with me for a while,” she invited the older woman.

“I really shouldn’t,” Edna said, but even as she uttered the words, she pulled a chair from the table and sat. A sigh escaped her as she pushed strands of graying hair away from her face. “Busy day. Always is when chicken and dumplings is on the menu. My feet are achin’.”

Now that the woman sat across from her, Kathryne didn’t know how to broach the subject tactfully. Instead, she asked, “Is that Deputy Montrose?”

Edna nodded. “Comes in ev’ry night. Nice enough fellow I suppose. Always polite to me.” She pointed to a sign tacked to the wall behind the cash register. It read “The Wagon Wheel has the right to refuse service to anyone at anytime.” The woman leaned closer and lowered her voice. “He enjoys my food too much to be rude.”

“Tell me about him.”

The woman shrugged. “Not much to tell. He was engaged once, but she left town before they were married. I heard it was ‘cause he has a temper.”

“What about Sheriff Townsend? Does he have a temper too?”

A change came over the woman’s face. Not fear, but anger and distrust. She didn’t say anything for a long time, as if she thought long and hard before she expressed her feelings. When she finally spoke, her voice reflected her distaste for the sheriff. “Got no love for that man. No respect neither. He’s a far cry from Sheriff Anders, to be sure. A good man, Tom was.” She folded her arms across her ample bosom. “Wish he was still around. He was respectful. Let people live their own lives as long as they didn’t break the law. Never tol’ anyone who they can serve or who can be their friend, like Townsend thinks he can.”

Once Edna warmed to her subject, the flow of words didn’t stop. She leaned forward, but didn’t bother to lower her voice. “Take that nice Mr. Hunter. Yes, I said nice. Comes in all the time. Always has a kind word for me and Jake. Never takes advantage of my good nature. Loves my Yankee pot roast and my biscuits. Don’t tolerate bad coffee. Townsend ordered me not to serve him.” She scoffed, her lips twisting into a frown. “Said he wasn’t a good man, as if the sheriff knows what a good man is.”

She paused as Gabe Montrose rose from his seat, wiped his mouth with a napkin and left the restaurant. He left no coin on the table to pay for his meal. Edna’s eyes narrowed as she watched him and she let out a disgusted “Hmm” before she returned to the conversation. “If the people of Crystal Springs would stop actin’ all highfalutin’ and talk to the man, they’d see what I see. Mr. Hunter ain’t no gunfighter. I can tell ye that. I knowed a few bad men and he ain’t one of them.”

They were alone now, except for Jake and Arlis, their son, in the kitchen and yet, Kathryne still felt as if someone stared at her with malice. She glanced out the window, but again, no one stood at the glass.

She brushed it off as an overactive imagination and picked up the threads of her conversation. “I know he’s not. Mr. Hunter has always been very nice to me,” Kathryne said and hoped the growing affection she felt for him wasn’t betrayed in her voice. “Saved my life.”

A brow cocked over Edna’s piercing brown eye. “I heard. Twice in fact. Heard the Willow Creek boys tried to pull ye into an alley.” She shook her finger at Kathryne. “Ye watch out for them boys, Miss Kate. They ain’t nice people over on Willow Creek and Townsend pretty much lets ‘em do what they want.” She harrumphed, her frustration clear. “Broke up the Wagon Wheel not too long ago ‘cause I ran out o’ cherry pie. Townsend wouldn’t even make ‘em pay for the damage. He jes’ laughed it off. Like I said, ain’t got no respect for the man.”

“You don’t trust him, either.”

“Hell no, I don’t. And don’t ye either.” She rose from her seat, adjusted her apron around her ample waist and took a swipe at the table.

Kathryne wasn’t about to let her go. The question popped out of her before she could stop herself. “What do you know about Joe Rawlins and James Stewart?”

The woman rested her hands on the tabletop. “Both be dead, if’n that’s what ye mean. Shot in the back, like some coward would do.”

“Who killed them?”

A strange expression came over Edna’s face and though they were alone, she lowered her voice. “Don’t know for sure, but I got my suspicions.” She turned her head, scanning the empty dining room. “A word of advice, Miss Kate. Don’t be poking yer pretty little nose where it don’t belong. I tell ye that ‘cause I like ye,” she said then winked and grinned. “That’s enough jawin’ fer one night. Ye be careful walking home now, Miss Kate, an’ stay away from them Willow Creek boys.”

“I will. I have Sarge with me.”

The woman smiled. “He’s a good dog. Where’d ye get him?”

Kathryne shrugged and laughed as she dug the coupon out of her reticule, placed it on the table then rose from her seat as well. “He showed up on my doorstep one night. Adopted me as opposed to the other way around. I’ve never owned a dog before, but he’s turning out to be an excellent companion. I just wish he’d stop trying to trip me.”

“Trip you?”

Kathryne grinned. “He lies on the floor and as I’m walking by him, he sticks out his paw. A couple times, he caught me just right and I almost fell flat on my face. I swear, he laughed at me.”

Edna chuckled. “Wish I coulda seen that. Never saw a dog laugh before. Ye want some bones for him? I got a couple ham bones leftover from makin’ split pea soup.”

“He’d love that. Thank you.”

The woman winked. “I’ll meet you at the door.” She took off for the kitchen while Kathryne walked to the door and peeked outside. Sarge lay right where she’d left him, his ears twitching as he watched the street. When Edna joined her, she had the bones wrapped in white paper tied with string.

“Here ye go. Have a good night.”

“Thank you, Edna. Good night.” The door closed behind her. Kathryne heard the lock click into place and turned in time to see Edna flip the sign from Open to Closed then scurry toward the table she’d just left. For a woman who claimed to be tired, she moved with boundless energy.

Sarge stood, his tail wagging against her skirts, his nose pressed to the paper wrapped package in her hand. “Yes, these are for you, but not until we get home.”

Kathryne started walking up the raised sidewalk, her heels loud in the quiet night. Shadows moved as a breeze made signs hanging over businesses along her route swing slowly back and forth. Leaves rattled in the trees throughout the town square across from her. A young couple strolled through the park, hand in hand, their heads together, planning their future. A smile touched her lips as they climbed into the gazebo.

She stepped off the sidewalk, crossed the street and continued past the town hall, the clock tower above making a rhythmic clicking as the minutes ticked away. Or perhaps it was just her imagination that seemed to amplify every sound, including the thumping of her own footsteps across the wooden walkway.

“Silly goose,” she murmured, and pushed all her fear, all her uncertainty, aside.

Riley’s and the men hanging around outside loomed ahead to her left, the alleyway to her right, where Beau Canady, Shep Turner and Roy Benedict tried to push her. Walking past either one made her shiver, even in daylight. Though Sarge trotted along beside her, she still didn’t want to trust her luck.

She stopped in indecision at the corner, beside the dark and eerily empty sheriff’s office. Sarge stopped when she did. He turned to stare into the shadows behind them, his body rigid. A moment later, she heard the sound that drew the dog’s attention. Footsteps. Behind her.

Kathryne whirled around as a growl issued from Sarge’s throat. Not the playful growl-groan he emitted when she rubbed his belly or when he greeted someone he liked. This was different.

Deeper. More menacing. As if the noise rose from the depths of his chest.

The hair along his back rose and his ears flattened against his head. He moved closer to her, sidling up against her legs. She glanced at him, saw his bared teeth and stifled a gasp. She’d never seen him this way.

Moonlight glowed on the street but didn’t reach beneath the covered walkway as Kathryne peered into the darkness, aware of eyes boring into her. Her breath caught in her throat as Shep Turner stepped out of the shadows not more than ten feet away. His eyes seemed to gleam with an otherworldly glow as he took another step in her direction.

“Please don’t come any closer,” she ordered, though her voice trembled, even to her own ears. Her heart banged against her ribcage. Fear left a metallic taste in her mouth. “I don’t know what he’ll do.”

The ranch hand stopped and didn’t move, his steady stare going from her to the dog and back, as if he weighed his options, wondering if he could overpower the dog, wondering how much damage the dog’s shiny, sharp teeth could do to him before he did.

Sarge took several steps in his direction, the hair on his back standing straight up, the growling louder, meant to intimidate and threaten. His teeth gleamed in the moonlight.

Without a word, Shep nodded then stepped off the sidewalk and crossed the street, heading for Riley’s and the music pouring through the batwing doors.

Kathryne didn’t move until he was safely inside the saloon then released her breath in a huff. She sank to the edge of the sidewalk, just until her legs stopped shaking, until her heart stopped its erratic pounding in her chest. Sarge trotted up beside her and rested his head on her lap, his tail once again fanning the air. She scratched him behind the ears, the action soothing. “You’re a good boy, Sarge.”

It took a long time before her violent trembling ceased, and her heart rate returned to normal. Indeed, Kathryne didn’t stop shaking until she flipped the locks on both doors once she’d gained the safety of her own home.

****

The same tableau played out several times during the next few days, the feeling someone watched her was intense and disconcerting. Sometimes, she turned around and no one stood behind her. Sometimes Shep was there, watching her—indeed, staring at her. Other times, it would be Beau Canady or Sheriff Townsend, but whoever it was, she remained steadfast in her efforts to stay as far away from all of them as possible. None of them made it easy.

Determined to put the incidents and her growing frustration out of her mind, Kathryne tried hard to continue her routine of teaching and taking care of the little cottage where she lived. She dug into the dirt, removing the weeds that seemed to grow overnight in her garden and choke the last of the bright blooming flowers that grew there. Sarge lay on the porch, his muzzle on his paws, his brows moving as he watched her. After a morning spent chasing birds and squirrels and the stick Walter threw for him, he now seemed content to stretch out on the floor and doze.

Autumn had truly come to Crystal Springs. The leaves on the trees had turned the most beautiful colors of gold and scarlet. Some of the leaves still clung in desperation to the branches from which they sprouted, but many more crackled beneath her feet. The nights had grown colder as well, but the days were still quite pleasant and she wiped the perspiration from her brow.

She still felt the presence of another person, but her skin didn’t crawl and her heart didn’t thunder in her chest. True, shivers ran up her spine but not from fear or anxiety as had happened the other times she felt someone staring at her. Sarge scrambled off the porch like a shot from a rifle. He gave the growl-groan she recognized and knew no one with harmful intent approached.

She dropped her trowel in the dirt and wiped her hands on her apron as she stood and turned around. A rush of warmth suffused her and a tingle settled deep within her belly as Chase climbed from his horse. She wanted to ask him where he’d been as she hadn’t seen him since the night he rescued her from the Willow Creek boys, but the question flew out of her mind, lost in the devil-may-care grin spreading across his lips.

The general said she was attracted to the wrong kind of man. Perhaps that was true. Chase Hunter was an outlaw, a gun for hire, but if she trusted her heart, that illogical organ, she rather doubted those titles. He’d been nothing but polite and kind toward her and his kiss had been one of the sweetest she’d ever experienced. She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t wish he would take her in his arms once again. Warmth heated her face as her gaze met his.

“You’re still here,” Chase said as he removed his hat and let himself in through the gate. Sarge danced around him, tail wagging furiously, hitting the fence post with solid thunks.

“I had no intention of leaving, Mr. Hunter.”

“So it’s
Mr.
Hunter
now? What happened to Chase?” He braced himself as Sarge jumped up and placed his paws on his shoulders, swiping at his face with a long, pink tongue.