A Good Man for Katie (35 page)

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Authors: Marie Patrick

Tags: #Western

BOOK: A Good Man for Katie
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Chase sighed as he lowered his rifle. His plan had gone off without a hitch save one. He didn’t have the pleasure of seeing Ty’s silver cuffs around the sheriff’s wrists, but at least he had Cassandra, who struggled to free her hands from Alex’s iron grip. He approached her and pushed his hat back. “Hello, Cassie.”

She stopped thrashing about and stared at him. Recognition made her suck in her breath and her eyes narrowed with loathing and hatred. Fury made her pale cheeks glow red. “You!” she screamed and doubled her efforts to free herself from Alex’s grasp. She tried to kick him—her boot-clad foot thrusting out from beneath her skirts—but only succeeded in throwing herself off balance. She twisted her lips and spat, the discharge hitting Chase in the face. “Bastard!”

He wiped his face with the sleeve of his duster. And grinned. “Perhaps. However, I will remain a free man while you, Cassie, will spend the rest of your life behind bars for theft and murder.”

Color drained from her face. Her blue eyes and scarlet cheeks stood out in stark relief against the pure white of her skin. “I didn’t…”

“Save it for the jury.” He moved closer to her and lowered his voice just a bit as Ty joined them, another pair of handcuffs swinging from his hand. “It might go easier for you if you tell me where Townsend is.”

Fury twisted her lips and for a moment, he thought she might actually give up her accomplice, blame Townsend for theft and murder. Instead, she screamed, “For God’s sake, shoot him!”

Chase didn’t know who she screamed at. Beau and Roy were safely in the bed of the buckboard, their hands behind their backs, unable to shoot anyone. Townsend then? Someone else?

He took in his surroundings, peering into the trees beyond the outbuildings, studying the stable, bunkhouse and other buildings situated around the compound. No shots were fired. Indeed, not a sound met his ears except for Cassandra’s heavy breathing, but the door to the tack room moved ever so slightly. Townsend must have been in there. Watching. Waiting. Now, running like the coward.

“You got this?” he asked the colonel, but didn’t wait for an answer as he ran for the tack room.

****

“More coffee?” Emeline asked her guests as she lifted the tray containing the coffee service and headed into the kitchen.

Kathryne glanced at her father across from her, noticed his foul expression and reddened cheeks, and knew she needed to step away from him before she lost her temper. The changes she’d once believed she’d seen in her father hadn’t been true and the inquisition had begun. He no longer talked about her coming back to Washington, nor did he mention marrying Captain Collier again. No, this inquisition had to do with Chase Hunter Hartridge. And she just didn’t feel like answering questions. Why should she tell him—
them
—everything when they had not been so forthcoming with her?

Though she had forgiven her family for their part in deceiving her, anger and resentment still flowed through her. Indeed, she seemed to have less understanding and was more easily riled than before. She looked for hidden meanings in their words and watched their expressions to see if she could spot another lie.

Kathryne took a deep breath, excused herself, then followed Emeline into the kitchen. As soon as the door swung shut, she commented, “I don’t know how much longer I can keep my temper from exploding.”

“He means well, Kate.” Emeline finished pouring fresh coffee into the fancy silver server on the tray and put the blue speckled pot back on the stove. “He’s just worried about you.”

“Are you taking his side?” Anger and hurt made her suck in her breath as her hands balled into fists. She paced the small confines of the kitchen, her skirts swishing around her legs. “I’m not sure why I even care what he thinks—what any of you think—after the lies you all told me.”

Emeline blushed, her face taking on a pretty shade of pink. “We’ve apologized for our deception, Kate. I thought you understood and forgave us.” A long sigh escaped her and her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “And I’m not siding with him. I just think it’s time the both of you stopped arguing. Not every word that comes out of Father’s mouth is an invitation to battle.” She shook her head as she pulled the sugar canister from the shelf and opened the lid. “I’m out of sugar.” She sighed. “I’ll have to run to Graham’s for more.”

“I’ll go,” Kathryne offered. Anything to get out of the house and away from the constant battle she waged with the general, away from the feelings of resentment still rippling through her. She reached for her cape, swung it over her shoulders and buttoned it then grabbed her reticule and headed out the door before Emeline could say a word.

On the back porch, the coldness of the day hit her squarely in the face and for the first time since she’d joined the families this morning for brunch, she could actually breathe. “Come on, Sarge.”

The dog stood and stretched. His cold nose nudged her hand as his tail fanned the air. When they stepped off the porch, the back door swung open and Emeline popped her head out. “Get some more canned milk, too. And some of that licorice Father likes.”

“Do you want to make a list?”

Emeline grinned. “No, you’ll remember. And Kate, take your time. It’ll give me a chance to talk to Father on your behalf.”

For a moment, Kathryne couldn’t say anything as the meaning behind Emeline’s words sunk into her brain. “Thank you,” she mouthed as she took the walkway around to the front of the house. Sarge ran ahead, plowing his nose through the snow that had fallen last night.

As she made her way to Graham’s, she noticed how the sunlight sparkled on the pristine white covering the ground, how clean and fresh the mountain air. Such a glorious day made her realize Emeline was right. Not every word that came from her father was cause for battle. Perhaps, if she listened more and didn’t become so defensive so quickly, she could have a better relationship with him, but then, he needed to listen more as well.

“What do you think, Sarge? Am I being unfair to him?” The dog gave a short, muffled woof. Kathryne grinned. “You’re right. He’s a good man and he loves me.”

She stepped up on the sidewalk in front of Graham’s and turned to the dog. “Stay.” Sarge dropped to his haunches on the sidewalk beneath him. “Good boy.” She scratched him behind the ear, where he liked to be scratched, and let herself into the general store.

“Good morning, Kate. What can I do for you?” Jennifer Graham stood behind the cash register, the smile on her face warm and welcoming. Her daughter Lily finished adding several logs to the pot bellied stove in the corner, wiped her hands on her apron and joined her mother behind the counter.

“Good morning, Jennifer. Lily. I just need some canned milk.” She headed directly to the shelf that held the item she needed and collected four cans before she strolled toward them. She placed her purchases on the counter. “I need sugar as well. Oh, and some licorice, please.”

“For your father, right?” the woman grinned as she moved toward the glass jars containing an assortment of sweets, including the general’s favorite.

“Yes. How did you know?”

As Jennifer stuffed several licorice sticks into a bag, she said, “He’s been in every day.”

“He does love his licorice.” Kathryne laughed as she opened her reticule and pulled out several coins, but her laughter died quickly. Outside the store, Sarge growled.

The dog’s growl deepened, growing in intensity, followed by a woman’s scream.

Thinking Sarge may have attacked someone or, at the very least, startled someone, Kathryne ran to the door and flung it open. The reprimand for the dog died on her tongue as Sheriff Townsend grabbed Francine Maitland around the waist and dragged her to the sidewalk. Francine struggled, her eyes wide. She opened her mouth to scream, but the noise died in her throat when Townsend squeezed her waist. The feral gleam in his eyes bordered on desperation, with a hint of insanity.

In the next instant, Kathryne gasped, her hand flying to her throat as Sarge lunged at the sheriff, teeth bared, snarling deep in his throat. Her heart stopped with a painful thud as Townsend, still holding a struggling Francine, slid his revolver from the holster, took aim and pulled the trigger. He missed. The bullet lodged harmlessly in the wooden windowsill.

The dog lunged again, sank his teeth into the sheriff’s arm and hung on, his growls growing louder and more menacing. Townsend shrieked, vile words spewing from his mouth as he tried to pull his arm free from the dog’s teeth though he managed to maintain his grip on his pistol.

Sarge wouldn’t let go and blood soaked the sleeve of the sheriff’s coat. Townsend had no choice except to release Francine, who fell to the sidewalk in a sobbing heap.

Kathryne rushed forward and helped Francine to her feet. “Find Chase. Now!” Her voice cracked as she whispered the words. Her heart pounded in her chest, her entire body shaking as Townsend brought his knee up and hit Sarge squarely in the chest. The dog howled and released his grip on the sheriff’s arm. Francine ran from the scene, her fear-filled sobs echoing in the quiet street.

“You bastard!” Tears filled Kathryne’s eyes, and bile scalded her throat as she, too, lunged at the sheriff and scratched him across the face with her nails. Her strength, though, was no match for the tall, lean man. He captured her arm in an iron grip as he took aim and fired at the dog once more. “No!”

Again, the bullet missed its target as Kathryne tried to yank her arm free and push him off balance at the same time. It wasn’t enough. Indeed, Townsend seemed to take great pleasure in cocking his pistol and aiming one more time.

“No, Sarge!” Kathryne screamed as the dog lunged toward him. This time, the bullet found its mark. The sound Sarge made as the force of the bullet made him somersault on the sidewalk would live forever in her mind. Her friend, her companion, lay still, blood spouting from the hole through the side of his neck, staining his soft fur and the yellow kerchief he wore. He whimpered as he breathed, his big brown eyes cloudy with confusion and pain and yet, he still tried to crawl toward her.

“Oh, Sarge.” Tears flooded her eyes, blurring her vision. Her stomach twisted against the pain in her heart. She tried to get to the dog, but Townsend wouldn’t let her. His fingers tightened on her wrist, nearly crushing the delicate bones and yet, she fought him. Her pointed boots connected with his shins, eliciting a startled yelp. She scratched at his face with her free hand and clamped her teeth into the fleshy part of his arm before he hit her, the pearl-handled pistol smashing against the side of her face.

Dazed, Kathryne stumbled. Townsend used the momentum to push her into the store, but not before she caught sight of Ephraim peering around the corner of the building. Help was coming, for both her and Sarge. Ephraim would see to it.

“Get the hell in there! He ain’t gonna help you now!” Townsend shoved her again, pushing her into the wooden counter where the cash register rested. She crashed into the structure with such force, her glasses flew from her face and the bell on the cash register dinged. Pain exploded in her stomach and hips where she struck the hard surface.

She swallowed hard against the urge to vomit and forced herself to breathe as she glanced behind the counter. Neither Jennifer nor Lily were there. She only hoped they’d run for help, but that left her at the mercy of a madman.

And Townsend was mad. One look in his eyes and she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot her like he shot Sarge, but if she was to die, she had to know the truth. She turned to face him and the words flew from her mouth before she could stop them. “You killed Amanda. And Sheriff Anders. And James Stewart.”

Townsend smirked. The pistol in his hand didn’t waver as he approached her, his long strides bringing him close. He breathed heavily from his exertions. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Blood soaked the sleeve of his coat and dripped to the floor, the plopping sound as each drop hit the wooden planks beneath their feet loud in her ears. “They asked too many questions.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Katie!” Chase ran from the schoolhouse, blood pumping through his veins. Though he hadn’t been able to catch up to Townsend in the tunnel—the lawman knew the twists and turns of the underground passage so much better—his first thought was for Kathryne’s safety. He wouldn’t put it past Townsend to hurt as many people as he could in his effort to escape the hangman’s noose.

Chase crossed the bridge and pounded up the steps to Kathryne’s front porch. He didn’t bother knocking and flung the door open. “Katie!”

The cottage was empty, though embers in the fireplace radiated a little heat. It didn’t look like she’d been here for a while, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t in harm’s way.

Breath pluming from his lips, Chase stood on the cottage’s front porch and took in the view. From his position, he could see quite a bit of the town. Everything seemed calm and quiet. Snow sparkled in the sunlight, smoke rose from chimneys and a few hardy souls walked the streets, but most of the townspeople were indoors and out of the cold. Even the children seemed to be absent on this cold morning. He took a deep breath to ease the pain in his side and absentmindedly rubbed his thigh where Henry’s bullet had once lodged. Footprints marred the pristine white of the snow covering the ground. He recognized Kathryne’s dainty step and the longer strides of a man mixed within the paw prints left by Sarge. All were heading down the path toward town, but he couldn’t tell if they had been made at the same time.

He took another breath, forcing himself to remain calm, and left the porch at a run. He followed the footprints until he lost them in the snow. There were too many to decipher which ones belonged to whom as he got closer to town. The only ones that remained constant were Sarge’s.

“Is Katie here?” he asked as he let himself into the house Terrence and Emeline shared a few moments later and strode through the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the dining room. The entire extended family sat around the table—his parents, Kathryne’s parents, Emeline and Terrence—all relaxing after a hearty brunch. And every eye turned toward him.

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