A Kiss for Cade (5 page)

Chapter Five

C
halmer Winslow polished his sheriff’s badge with the tip of his kerchief tied around his neck when Cade walked into the jail.

“Hey, Pop. Good to see you.”

As a kid, Cade had often hung around the jail. There wasn’t a lot of law-breaking in Winterborn, so parents allowed their children to play there while they tended business. Pop never had kids of his own, which was why he took to all the youngsters, handing out horehound candy sticks when they came to visit.

“Well, well. Cade Kolby.” The old man got up to shake hands. “Heard you were coming back.” Chuckling, he studied Cade from head to toe. “You’ve grown a bit.”

Cade clasped Pop’s hand affectionately. “I was born taller than you,” he teased. Actually, the last time Cade had seen him, the sheriff had been thirty pounds lighter and had fewer wrinkles.

“Aw, I’m falling apart, but at sixty-eight, who’s complaining?” He smoothed his mustache with his forefinger and then rubbed the bald spot on top of his head.

“I thought you might have turned in your badge by now.”

“Nah, I’ll be here until they throw dirt in my face.” A wide grin split the older man’s face. “Look at you.” He squeezed Cade’s bicep. “All muscled up. Hard to believe you were that tall, scrawny whippersnapper who used to come in here, nosing into everything.”

Cade glanced at the empty cell. “Looks like business is booming.”

Pop laughed. “Chicken thieves are about it. Oh, and there was that bank robbery last year that got Zoe’s husband killed. We had that criminal for two days. Poor Jim Bradshaw. Just standing there making a deposit and bam! Shot dead.”

“Addy wrote me about that. Zoe must have taken it real hard.”

“You know Zoe. She’s tough as a boot.”

Cade smiled. She certainly hadn’t had any trouble expressing herself a few minutes ago. His gaze roamed the small room. The jail hadn’t changed. It had the same battered wooden desk, potbellied stove, a couple of straight-backed chairs, and one cell that, if things were still as they had been before, wasn’t used much.

Sitting down again at his desk, Pop propped up his feet and crossed his arms at the back of his neck. “So. Heard you got Luke Biglow.”

Cade straddled a chair and sat down. “Luke and I bumped into each other around Houston a few months ago.”

“Heard the reward was mighty hefty.”

“Some people are worth more dead than alive.”

“Tell me about it. Look at this.” Pop held up a handful of wanted posters. “Half my time’s spent nailing these up around town.”

Cade took the notices from him and leafed through them, handing them back without comment.

Pop’s features sobered. “Sure sorry about Addy and John. Sad for those young’uns. Zoe’s had her hands full lately.”

“Maybe that’s why she’s in such a foul mood. She just threw me out of her store.”

“She did? And you lookin’ so pretty.” Pop winked. “How long you stayin’?”

“Not long.”

“You plan on raising the kids? If not, there’s an Amish couple over near Salina that might be interested. But, you know, the Brightons sure do want ’em.”

“The Brightons? Frank and Helen? Aren’t they a little old to take on four youngsters?”

“Not Frank and Helen. They’re close to sixty now. Frank’s youngest boy and his wife, Seth and Bonnie. They got three of their own, but they want more. They’ve sent word they’d sure like to be considered. Seth’s building another room on and said he wants to have a whole houseful.”

Cade got up and moved to the window. His gaze traced the town where he’d spent his youth. “I can’t keep them, Pop. I know that’s what Addy hoped I’d do, but I can’t.”

Pop dropped his feet to the floor and leaned forward. “I guess it’s a jolt to have four kids dropped into your lap.”

Cade watched a wagon pull up in front of Zoe’s store. “They’ll need a better home than I can give them.” Pa and Ma had gone to their graves thinking their son had turned away from God. He hadn’t turned away, but he sure wasn’t the son Pa deserved. When he’d ridden away that day, he thought he was smarter than most. There were pennies on the dollar to be made around Winterborn. His family needed much more. The boys in this town could stick around and farm if they wanted, but he was looking for a better way to support the family. Pa pastored the local church until he took sick in Cade’s teens. Cade had been left to provide for the family. Sure, the congregation did all they could, but most folks in town had a hard time seeing to their own needs. He’d been proud after he nailed his first criminal. Arrogant. He’d made more money in that one arrest than he’d seen in his whole life. So he’d gone after another. And another. When he had to kill the first man, he’d cried, knowing what Pa would say. But money had a way of getting in your soul, under your skin, soothing the conscience. When word reached his folks of his new occupation, they refused the money. Wouldn’t touch a cent. It now sat in the local bank. Every red cent of it. Pa called it blood money.

After every kill he promised it would be his last. Then he’d read a poster, see the price on the man’s head, and all of Pa’s teachings seemed distant, unrelated to the circumstance. He figured he was doing society a favor.

“I think a lot of you, boy, but I have a tendency to agree. Those kids need some stability in their lives. You don’t stay in one place long enough to fry an egg, let alone raise a family.”

Cade removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. Pop was right. His home was a campfire and a bedroll. Children needed schooling, a roof over their heads, clean clothes, and three meals a day. What did he know about rearing kids? What did he know about family life, period?

“It’d be hard for a man with your reputation to settle down even if he set his mind to it,” Pop said. “Some no-good would always be tryin’ to get you before you get them.”

Cade agreed. “Hart McGill. Heard of him?”

“McGill? Who hasn’t? He and his gang have terrorized half of Kansas. There ain’t a woman safe around any of ’em. What’s he done to you?”

“Other than being a plague to society? He’s out to get me.”

“What’s it to you? You’ve watched your back for years.”

“I shot his baby brother.”

“That’ll do it every time.”

“It was either me or him. I chose me.” Cade returned to the chair and sat down. “Someday I’m going to settle down, have my own kids and my own little parcel of land, but that’s not in the immediate future. You’re right, Pop. There’s always someone out there looking for a fight. I don’t want to bring my trouble to Winterborn.” He owed that much to his family’s memory.

Pop nodded, looking past Cade to the posters on the wall. “There’re some mean cusses out there, all right. But where could you go to escape them?”

“I won’t. My past will follow me wherever I go, but someday I’m going to be too old for this and I’ll have to quit. I’ve got a good nest egg put away. I wouldn’t be hurting for money. Maybe get a place down by the border…” Cade’s voice trailed off.

“Mexico? Ain’t far enough, son. You’d still have to watch your back.”

Cade knew that. He just didn’t like to think about it. “I’m going to need a place to sleep tonight, Pop.”

Pop brow’s lifted. “That ain’t all you need. You could use a haircut. Walt’s raised his prices. Twenty-five cents. He’s got a gun to our heads, but we have to pay it. The baths out back don’t come cheap, either.”

Cade laughed. “Zoe won’t let me near the kids until I clean up. I suppose Glori-Lee is still renting rooms?”

“Not as many as she used to. It’s all she can do to keep up with the café. Anyway, she’s full up, I heard. You can either come home with me or take the bunk upstairs. It ain’t much—just a cot and a wash-stand. You’d have to take your meals elsewhere, but seeing as how you’re not going to be around long, it won’t matter.”

“Zoe wants me to wrap up my business and clear out. Yet she also expects me to spend time with the kids.”

“It’s not going to be easy. I don’t know anywhere you can keep them with you. If Glori-Lee had a room available, it wouldn’t be big enough to cuss a cat in, and my place can’t accommodate the five of you.”

“I won’t be here long enough to set up housekeeping. My stay in Winterborn will be brief. McGill thinks I’m in St. Louis, and I want to keep it that way.”

“Well, I’ll help you all I can. You want to come home with me?”

“The bunk upstairs is fine.” Zoe would have to keep the kids until he could make arrangements for their adoption. “I don’t want to stay with you, anyway. You snore too loud.”

Pop cackled. “Don’t you be spreadin’ a rumor like that, boy!”

“Rumor? When Addy and I used to play in here, you’d be reared back in your chair, raising the roof.”

Pop heaved his bulk out of the seat, put his arm around Cade’s shoulders, and walked him to the door. “You square-dance?”

“You asking?”

“Still full of it, aren’t you? There’s a dance over at the hall every Saturday night. I know it ain’t proper for you to come tomorrow night, so soon after Addy’s death, but keep it in mind. You could ask Zoe. You two used to be sweet on each other, weren’t you?”

Cade smiled. He’d be the last person Zoe would dance with. He hadn’t lied to her. He had been so busy collecting rewards he hadn’t realized how many years had passed. Then Addy’s letter had come, saying Zoe was about to marry Jim Bradshaw. Cade was stunned by the news. Zoe was his. She had always been his for as long as he could remember.

As it happened, he didn’t get his man, but Zoe got hers. The next letter from Addy described the wedding. All the regret in Kansas hadn’t been able to blot out the loss he’d felt. Why hadn’t he gone back? He’d loved her. Was it the endless quest for money? He had all the money he wanted, and he wasn’t wallowing in contentment.

He shoved the thoughts aside. Why dredge up ancient history? He couldn’t turn back the hands of time. He couldn’t change a thing.

He settled his hat on his head. “I don’t know about the dance, Pop. I’m a little rusty.”

“Oh? I thought dodging bullets kept a man nimble.”

Cade poked Pop in his fat belly. “You should’ve been dodging biscuits and gravy.”

Pop patted his stomach. “I’ve worked hard to get this. Got to have strength for sheriffin’ in Winterborn.”

“Guess you’re right about a haircut. I’ll stow my gear upstairs, and then I’ll go see Walt.”

Sniffing the air, Pop added, “Don’t forget the bath. You smell worse than a polecat. No wonder Zoe threw you out.”

The men parted at the front door. Pop reached into his shirt pocket for a horehound stick. “Here you go, boy. Something to sweeten you up.”

As Cade caught the piece of candy in midair, he suddenly felt like a kid again. He thought of the times he and Addy had scrambled after the treats. Grief blinded him as the reason for his homecoming sliced razor sharp, deep through his gut. Addy was dead, and four kids with his blood running through their veins were homeless.

Chapter Six