High Mountain Drifter (13 page)

"I just want him caught. You don't know what it's like to feel like this, knowing you've done everything wrong." Agony burrowed into her bruised face, true and raw. "If I'd ended it sooner, if I'd seen through his pretense earlier, if I'd walked out of this house and into the woods weeks ago and let him take me, then Magnolia wouldn’t have been kidnapped too. It would be over."

"You would likely be dead," he pointed out, hating that thought. Viciously, furiously, ragingly hating that thought. No, she deserved to be safe right here in this beautiful, pampered life she had in this fancy manor. "It would have destroyed your sisters, so in that way, it wouldn't have saved them."

She bit her bottom lip, as if too upset to answer. She turned away, staring at the closed windows. The weight on her shoulders must be unbearable.

"I do know how you feel," he said gently, surprised the truth was coming out, that the words just rolled off his tongue, words he'd never told another soul. "I had to turn in my father several years back. Collected the bounty on him. The guilt and the regret had no end."

"That had to feel awful." She leaned toward him, tender sympathy. "I'm so sorry you went through that."

"I survived." He wasn't used to anyone feeling sorry for him. Wry humor tickled his throat. "I'm tough, don't worry. But I know how it feels when you're not at fault, not really, but it feels like it. This will pass. I'll catch Ernest for you, and you and your sisters can get back to your lives here, go on as if it never happened. It will be fine."

"It sounds perfect, to put this all in the past. Bury it and forget it." The tenderness lingered in those sapphire blue depths. "Were you able to?"

"I've moved on." Now his throat felt tight and achy. "I don't try to think of what's behind me much. I keep my eye on what's in front of me."

"So it still hurts." She reached across the distance between them, laid her hand on his forearm. "How did your family treat you when you turned your father in?"

"I don't have family." He meant to pull away, uncomfortable with her touch, with her so close, but his arm didn't seem to want to move. The weight of her hand, the heat of it, felt unsettling. Not the way he wanted to feel. "My ma died when I was a kid. Lost track of my brother in the orphanage. He got adopted out, I didn't."

"So you're alone?" More sympathy shone in those eyes that held him like the moon to the earth. "I don't know what I'd do without my sisters. I don't have a life without them."

"You won't have to worry about it." He was mesmerized by those caring eyes, held spellbound, caught in her gentleness. "You've had a real comfortable life, it seems, aside from this Ernest thing. It will go back to that in no time, if I do my job."

"It is comfortable here. But this isn't the way we grew up." Curious, little crinkles dug in between her eyes, at the bridge of her nose. Cute. "This was our grandmother's house. She disowned Pa, so he and Ma moved to Chicago when my older sisters were small. I was born there. I grew up in a shanty that was a quarter of the size of this room, maybe smaller. Just one room for all of us. I didn't own a brand new dress, one that was all my own and not a hand-me-down, until we inherited this place."

"I didn't know. Milo hadn't mentioned it." He shook his head, looking surprised. "I wouldn't have guessed it. Maybe it's a sign you belong here."

"In Montana?"

"In a fancy life." He heard the words rumble warmly, because that's what he wanted for her, but they made him feel cold inside. "That's not how I grew up."

"No, of course not, not in an orphanage. I've heard terrible stories about them. Did you spend most of your childhood there?"

"No." His mouth tasted bitter, sour at the memory. At the truth of who he was, a truth he tried hard to forget. He would never want Verbena to know, because she gazed at him with such kindness. "My pa showed up at the orphanage one day. I hadn't seen him since I was small. He said I was old enough to work, so he took me with him."

"I'm sorry you had a pa like that." Compassion made her lovely, made her shine. Captivating, she leaned in closer and gave his forearm another reassuring squeeze. "You didn't deserve that. You're a good man, Zane Reed."

"Shows what you know." He tried to brush it off, the way he felt, the way she touched him deep inside where nobody went, where he allowed no one. But she was there, a flicker of light in his heart, in a dark, lonely place. "Most proper ladies cross the street to avoid me. Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I just want you to catch Ernest," she said sweetly, playfully, but the emotion dark in her eyes said something different.

He bowed his head, swallowing hard, not sure what to think. He didn't know if any woman had ever cared about him before, even in the smallest sense. He'd been a burden to his ma, a reminder of the misfortunes in her life, he'd been the illegitimate son of a known and despised outlaw. That made him a marked man, never accepted in polite society. He knew, because he'd tried that route.

It had gone badly.

So he forced his knees to hold him when he stood up, hardened his heart so he wouldn't feel the sting of shaking off her touch and gritted his teeth to keep from saying anything more that he shouldn't.

He stopped at the door, shifted his rifle to grasp the knob, and tried to resist the urge to look back at her.

Failed.

She'd twisted around to watch him over the top of the couch, her chin resting on the edge of the cushion, the shimmer of her red-brown hair framing her face. The sweetest face he'd ever seen. A man could get lost looking at her, fall so hard and fast he'd never even see it coming. There would be no escape.

"I told you I didn't intend to charge you for hunting down Craddock." The corner of his mouth tugged up. He could joke, too. "I'm going to up my price on you. A dozen of those cupcakes. No negotiating."

"I'll even decorate them without the flowers." She winked, hooking him.

How she hooked him. Left him speechless.

Unaware of her effect on him, she tilted her head to one side, considering. "Maybe we can come up with something manly. Like guns and bullets or something. Rose is really good when it comes to making things out of frosting."

"I'll take them plain," he said. "I wouldn’t want Rose to have to work too hard."

"Okay." She smiled. Stunningly.

In danger of being spellbound and with his knees threatening to buckle again, he decided it was time to skedaddle. He opened the door and stepped into the hall, hoping to drive out the ache for her in his heart. Since he was wise enough to know what a man like him could have--and what he could not--he kept walking.

He didn't look back.

Aumaleigh didn't know what to think about the bounty hunter. Mr. Reed certainly looked capable of catching outlaws. She'd never seen a man so tall or powerful, sort of like a bear as he nodded a silent farewell on his way through the kitchen. He was out the door before anyone had the chance to again offer him anything hot to drink on such a cold evening. The door banged shut and he was gone, marching off into the gathering twilight.

"Goodness," Iris gave a shiver. "I'm so thankful he's here but I never know what to say to him."

"He doesn't give a girl much of a chance," Rose commented as she lifted the lid on the potatoes to give them a poke with a fork.

"I like him," Magnolia decided as she counted out silverware from the drawer. "He's going to catch Ernest. Do you think he'll get that other guy, too? The one who was helping him?"

"I hope so." Aumaleigh's heart still went weak when she thought of all that had happened. She peered out the window, searching the twilight for the big man. There he was, mounting a dark horse. Both were in silhouette against the last blaze of sunset painting the western rim with streaks of fading gold and purple. "Well, you girls will be safe here for the night. Half the men on the ranch will be keeping an eye on you."

"We feel safe," Iris assured her, shouldering Rose over to lift the pot from the stove.

At least the girls seemed to be handling this just fine. That was a comfort. Aumaleigh searched the cabinets for a bowl the right size to carry some of those potatoes down the hill. She, however, couldn't help worrying. It was an aunt's prerogative. As soon as she set the bowl on the counter, Iris forked a heap of steaming spuds into the bowl, humming while she worked.

Aumaleigh covered it with a towel to trap the heat, her thoughts returning to the letter in her pocket. She hadn't opened it upstairs. It had been tempting, but Verbena had been there. Whatever it was Gabe had written, it was private so she was happy to wait. Truth be told, maybe waiting was better. She wasn't sure if her heart could handle knowing what he'd written.

"And here's some buttermilk rolls to take." Magnolia added a wrapped bundle to the top of the bowl. "Where's the plate of sliced beef? Oh, Rose has it."

"Here it is." Rose sailed over, tucking a dish cloth around the big plate she held. "Do you need help carrying all this? I could walk with you."

"No, I don't want you girls out of this house after dark. I worry enough as it is." She patted Rose's cheek before snaring her coat from its wall peg and shrugging into it. "What are you doing standing here? Go in and eat while your food is hot. I'll see myself out."

"Not without a hug, you won't." Iris swooped over, so pretty with her strawberry blond hair and quiet disposition. Her hug was just as sweet. "Walk safe, and you'd better have one of the cowboys escort you."

"I'll be fine on my own," she said, buttoning up.

"No, sorry, you will take an escort," Rose said sternly, moving in for a hug. Her adorable blond curls bounced around her striking, oval face. "We'll worry if you don't."

"Yeah, you don't want us to worry, right?" Magnolia swept up, all buoyant energy, for her turn at a hug.

Hard to turn down such caring. "Fine, but you girls keep those doors locked."

"We will, count on it." Magnolia swept away, happily engaged. It was good to see how resilient her nieces were, how determined they were to live without fear when they had every right to. It was painful to remember the five of them showing up on her doorstep that cold night, blowing in with the summer storm. They'd been bedraggled and tired in those old patched clothes they'd worn, shouldering a quiet weariness.

But thank goodness, they'd bloomed here in Montana and it heartened her to see Iris relaxed and smiling as she carried the roast on its fancy platter into the dining room. She chattered with Magnolia at the counter. Rose, who wore green today, as fresh as spring, humming as she snatched up the bowl of steaming potatoes. Being beaued by the handsome deputy had put a spring in her step.

And Verbena. The girl ambled into sight, looking like a fright with her colorful bruises. She gripped her cane lightly--her ankle must be hurting her less--as she clunked across the kitchen.

"Hmm, smells good," she said, trying to act as if nothing were wrong, as if she wasn't upset. But Aumaleigh could recognize it. She couldn’t help wondering what that tough bounty hunter might have said to her. It was easy as pie to read the worried crinkles around her eyes. A worry the girl did her best to smile away. "Aumaleigh, tell me you've changed your mind and you're staying."

"Nope, sorry." She reached for her scarf. "I've got to get this meal to Daisy. See if she needs any help before I head home."

"You should think about moving out of your rented rooms in town, maybe live on the ranch," Verbena suggested. "That way you'd be closer to us."

"I'd like that, but there are too many unhappy memories here." She thought of the letter in her pocket, as heavy as that unhappiness. She gathered up the food. "I suppose I'll make a change eventually. I just want to think it through. You girls have a good evening and a safe night. Do you hear?"

"Promise." Verbena crossed her heart adorably, and unlocked the back door. "Ooh, it's really windy out there. Don't get blown away."

To the chorus of "good night" and "good bye" and "we love you" ringing after her, Aumaleigh sailed across the porch and into the darkening evening. Twilight had lost its battle with the night, and she could barely see her way.

"Don't think you're going to be walking around here without one of us," a friendly male voice spoke out of the darkness. A few thumps of male boots and Kellan ambled into view, rifle slung over his arm. His ready smile put anyone at ease. "Looks like you're heading down to Beckett's."

"I am," she agreed, walking across the damp lawn in the dark, squinting to try to see where she was going. Too bad there were only shadows.

"I'll head down with you. The rain's stopped, so that's a plus." Kellan, who walked with a limp thanks to Ernest's attack, still had his good humor. "Looks like the stars might come out if we're lucky. Just had a chance to speak with that bounty hunter Milo brought in. That man knows what he's doing."

"I agree." She thought of the loner, who was quiet, self-controlled and kept to himself. He'd taken every meal to the bunkhouse, according to Josslyn and Maebry who'd filled plates for him. He was fearsome looking, and not the kind of man she'd want alone with one of her nieces, but he didn't seem dangerous. Not really. More like remote. An island unto himself.