The Bounty Hunter's Bride (15 page)

“Howdy there, Miss Baxter.”

Without turning, she recognized Andy’s voice. Not only had they spoken before the service, he’d sung “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” as if he’d meant it, except he’d sung it loud like Mr. Rayburn in Wisconsin, whom everyone knew made trips to Madison for less than noble purposes. Dani didn’t want to turn to Andy, but she saw no choice. Without smiling, she said, “Hello.”

He winked at her. “Which basket is yours?”

“You’ll have to guess.” Dani looked straight ahead.

Andy leaned closer, crowding her to the point of discomfort as he made his voice low. “If you won’t tell me which it is, I’ll just look for the prettiest one.”

Dani sidestepped. “I have children with me. I better check on them.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“That’s not necessary.”

Andy’s smile might have been friendly, but the glint in his eyes held a trace of anger. Dani wanted to call for help, but what could she say? He hadn’t done anything except stand a little too close. She stayed where she was, in front of the steps where she could see Adie and the baskets. When Adie made eye contact, Dani waved. Ignoring Andy, she turned to check on the girls. Emma, seeing the auction had begun, rounded up Ellie and Esther and hurried in Dani’s direction.

Andy grinned. “Cute kids.”

“Yes.” Dani willed Emma to go back to “Mother May I.” She didn’t want the girls near Andy, but she had no way to signal them to stay with their friends. They reached her side as Pastor Josh lifted the third basket. Andy tipped his hat to Emma, then smiled at the younger girls. “You three must be sisters.”

“We are,” Ellie said.

“How did you ladies meet Miss Baxter?”

No way did Dani want to share her business with this man. “It’s a long story. One I won’t bore you with Mr.—”

“Andy.”

Dani ignored the familiarity. Turning, she scanned the crowd again for Beau. Pastor Josh handed the fourth basket to a gray-haired man who’d bought his wife’s supper, probably for the thirtieth time in thirty years.

Andy stayed at Dani’s side, making small talk with the girls about the town.

Pastor Josh held up another picnic supper, a large basket decorated with ribbons and red gingham. “What do I hear for an opening bid?”

“Six bits!” said a man in the back.

A few bids followed, but everyone knew Tim Landers would spend his last nickel for his fiancée’s supper. When the bidding stopped, Dani looked down the road and saw Beau. Pastor Josh lifted the sixth basket. As he started the bidding, Beau walked from the surrey to the edge of the crowd where he spoke with Sheriff Dawes. A young man won the basket, picked up the supper and smiled boldly at a girl who’d struck Dani as shy.

Pastor Josh lifted Dani’s basket next. “I smell fried chicken, gentleman. What do I hear for an opening bid?”

“That’s ours!” Esther announced.

Dani wanted to put her hand over the child’s mouth.

Andy raised his hand. “Two dollars.”

Dani cringed. The other baskets had gone for a dollar and change. She sought Beau with her eyes, praying silently that he’d bid on her basket. Instead of signaling a bid, he crossed his arms over his chest. He hadn’t looked at her once.

A man in a suit raised his arm. “Three dollars!”

Dani recognized the banker. He glanced at her and smiled.

Andy upped the bidding to three dollars and change. The banker raised it to five. A rancher in a paisley vest bid six.

“Seven!” Andy shouted.

The rancher smiled at her but tipped his hat in defeat. The banker raised his hand. “Ten!”

“Do I hear eleven?” Josh looked straight at Beau.

“Twelve!” The bid came from Andy.

Dani’s heart shriveled. Beau hadn’t bid at all.

“That’s once,” Pastor Josh said. “Twice.”

“Twenty dollars.” The voice belonged to Beau, and it rang with an authority that stunned the crowd into silence.

Looking at him from across the yard, Dani didn’t know what to think. He’d just spent twenty dollars for her fried chicken, but he looked far from pleased.

B
eau strode to the front of the church, paid for Dani’s basket and headed in her direction. His gaze snapped to the red-haired man at her side. During the auction, he’d spoken to Sheriff Dawes and learned the fellow was a stranger in town. Under any circumstances, Beau would have sidled up to the kid and asked questions. With Dani in the picture, he felt even more wary.

With the basket in hand, Beau approached Dani and the girls. The stranger locked eyes with him, then turned to Dani. “I’d say you’re spoken for, Miss Baxter.” He tipped his hat and walked away.

“Wait up!” Beau called.

Red kept going. Beau wanted to drop the basket and haul him to the sheriff’s office for a little talk, but he had no evidence of wrongdoing, just a feeling in his gut and those weren’t always right. Neither could he leave Dani and the girls. Red had raised Beau’s hackles, but so had his talk with Trevor Scott. Beau didn’t like being watched by a Pinkerton’s detective. Heading to the church from Scott’s office, he’d decided to bore the detective to tears by playing horseshoes and watching Dani from afar.

Now she was at his side, looking worried while they headed for the shade of a cottonwood. The girls ran ahead. Emma flapped the blanket, giggling as it settled into a crooked square. As the girls plopped down, Beau set the basket on a corner. Smiling nervously, Dani dished up his plate. He bit into the fried chicken, holding in a groan of pleasure as he chewed. The supper had been worth every penny, but he didn’t compliment Dani. Instead he got down to business. “Who was that fellow?”

“Someone named Andy,” she replied.

“Where’s he from?”

“I don’t know.”

Emma wrinkled her nose. “He sat behind us in church.”

The younger girls had been in Adie’s Sunday school class and were more interested in dessert than talk. Beau wanted details from Dani, but she was wiping crumbs from Esther’s face. With her shoulders angled and her chin dipped, she seemed almost shy.

Beau didn’t understand. During the auction, he’d watched her from the corner of his eye and seen her agitation. He’d expected her to thank him for chasing away Andy. Instead she seemed anxious. Looking at her flushed cheeks, Beau worried that he’d made her angry.

He set his plate on the blanket. “Sorry I had to buy your basket. I know you’re looking to meet people.” He couldn’t bring himself to say “men.”

Dani’s gaze snapped to his. “You’re
sorry?
”

“I wrecked your plans, but that Andy fellow—I couldn’t let him have supper with you.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t like his looks.”

She looked at him with a mix of hope and concern. “Was that all?”

He scowled. “What else would it be?”

Dani turned back to Esther. “I see.”

The girls finished eating, then went to play with their friends. Dani stacked the dirty plates with a clatter and set them by the basket. Beau didn’t know a lot about women, but he knew a snit when he saw one. He gentled his voice. “What’s wrong?”

She slapped her own plate on to the pile. “I’m sorry you wasted your money.”

“What?”

“The basket…You didn’t want it.”

Oh yes, I did.
He couldn’t answer truthfully without muddying the waters, so he shrugged. “It had to be done.”

“No, it didn’t.”

In his better years, he’d have flirted with Dani until she smiled. Instead he set down his plate, leaving the pie unfinished. “Tell me about this Andy character.”

“He’s not your concern.”

“Oh yes, he is,” Beau said, grumbling. “He just cost me twenty dollars.”

Dani’s lips tightened. “You didn’t
have
to buy the basket.”

“What was I supposed to do? Let him eat with you?”

“Why not?”

Because you’re mine…Because I want you for myself.
Beau’s thoughts stopped in the back of his throat, but his irritation leaked from his lips. “You’re raising my nieces, that’s why.”

“Is that all?”

No, but it was enough. “You and the girls are in
my
care. Before a man comes courting, he’s going to earn my approval.”

Dani raised her chin. “You’re leaving. What happens then?”

Beau couldn’t say. Looking at Dani, all fierce and defiant, he felt a force he hadn’t felt in a long time. He wanted to protect this woman and provide for her. What would it be like to make her his wife? They’d fight, that was certain. They’d make up, too. With kisses and forgiveness and the supple bending of their wills. All he had to do was set down his hate for Clay Johnson. He simply couldn’t do it.

He picked up the glass of tea but didn’t drink. He had to think of Dani, not himself. She deserved a husband. He couldn’t be that man, but others today had shown interest. He drummed his fingers on the cup. “I’d be glad to see you married, but only to a good man.”

She lowered her eyes. “Like who?”

“The rancher looked like a decent sort. So did the fellow in the suit. Anyone but that cowboy.”

Dani grimaced. “To tell the truth, I didn’t like him at all.”

“Me, neither.”

She looked at Beau with a sad smile. “Thank you for buying my basket. I appreciated it.”

“It was nothing.” Never mind that he wanted it to lead to everything. He drained the tea. It tasted sweet but splashed in his belly like acid. He had to stay focused on the business of finding Clay Johnson.

Beau lowered his glass. “What else happened with that Andy fellow?”

She described how he’d sat behind her in church and quizzed her about the basket. With each word, she looked more nervous.

Beau wanted to chase down Andy and slap him. “I don’t want to upset you, Dani. But you have be careful.”

“I know.”

“Andy could be running with Johnson. They could be scouting out the next ranch to raid.”

“Or looking for you.”

“Yes.”

He plucked a blade of grass and rolled it in his fingers. He wanted to crush Johnson with the same ease.

“Hey, Morgan!”

He turned and saw Wallace hurrying in their direction. When the barkeep reached the blanket, Beau made a hurried introduction, then motioned for the man to sit. “What’s up?”

Wallace stayed on his feet. “Do you remember about Johnson coming in for whiskey?”

“Of course.”

“He had two men with him that night. One of them just came back.”

Beau had already stood. “What did he look like?”

“Young with red hair.”

Just as he suspected, Andy had been up to no good. Beau thought of the surrey he’d driven to town and groaned. He couldn’t go after the kid without a good horse, nor did he want to approach Clay without his long guns. The pistol on his hip was fine for a Sunday picnic but not the battle he felt coming. Andy had been the spotter. Clay Johnson was ready to strike.

Beau sensed Dani’s gaze and turned. “You’ll have to stay with Josh and Adie.”

Her eyes clouded. “The cows—”

He’d never felt so tied up in his life. He wanted to go after Clay, but he couldn’t leave Dani and his nieces unprotected on the farm. “I’ll think of something.”

Wallace interrupted. “We need to find Dawes.”

Beau scanned the picnickers. By a tree he saw a crowd of children, his nieces among them, skipping rope. He spotted the sheriff eating with his wife and son. With Wallace in his wake, Beau strode through the crowd.

Dawes saw Beau and stood. “What’s up, sheriff?”

Beau respected the use of his old title. What Dawes lacked in talent, he made up for in decency. “That red-haired kid, did you see him?”

“I sure did.”

“Wallace saw him with Clay Johnson.”

The barkeep described Andy’s visit to the saloon. The kid had knocked on the back door, bought six bottles of whiskey and left. “That was twenty minutes ago. You can still catch him.”

Beau’s legs itched for a fast ride, but Andy had caught him unprepared. No horse. No guns. Nothing but fury and the knowledge that Dani had become a target.

The sheriff motioned to his son. “Come here, Howie.”

Beau hadn’t met the boy, but he knew Howie from the girls’ stories. Emma, he guessed, had a crush on the sixteen-year-old. Beau looked him up and down. He had height, some muscle and seemed responsible.

Howie joined his father. “What happened?”

“Get Teddy and Ace. Tell them we have a lead on Johnson.”

Howie’s eyes glinted. “I want to go.”

“Sorry, son.”

“But—”

“You’re too young.”

Beau felt for the kid. He also saw an answer to his problem. He stuck out his hand, greeting Howie like a man.

“I’m Beau Morgan.”

Howie shook. “You’re Emma’s uncle.”

“I’m riding out with your pa. Miss Baxter and my nieces are staying in town. Can I trust you to see to things at the farm?”

Howie looked at this father. “I’d rather go with you.”

When Dawes gripped his son’s shoulder, Beau’s mind tripped down a dangerous road. What would it be like to have a son with Dani’s eyes?

The sheriff spoke in a low tone. “We need your help, son.”

Beau understood young men. Howie wanted respect, and Beau knew how to show it. “I’ll pay you.” He named an amount that matched the importance of the job.

Howie stood tall. “I’ll do it.”

“Here’s the plan.” Beau laid out the details. He’d borrow a horse from Dawes and ride hard to the farm. He’d get the tools of his trade—his own horse, guns, ammo, irons and a rope—and join the sheriff and his men. Howie would take the surrey to the farm and stay. Dani and the girls would go home with Josh and Adie. Beau had to speak to the Blues, but he felt certain they’d help.

The Reverend must have seen the men talking, because he walked up to them. “What happened?”

Beau told him about Andy.

Josh’s face hardened. “I saw him bird-dogging Dani. If you hadn’t bought that basket, Adie and I would have joined them for supper.”

When a man didn’t trust God, he needed friends. Beau had Josh. “I need a favor.”

“Anything.”

“Can Dani and the girls stay at the parsonage?”

“Sure. Stephen’ll enjoy the company. What about your stock?”

Howie spoke up. “I’m headed out there now.”

Dawes looked at his son with pride. “Stay alert.”

“I will, Pa.”

“It’s settled,” Dawes said. “We’ll meet at the office.”

As the sheriff left, Josh clapped Beau on the back. “Go with God, my friend.”

Beau’s mouth hardened. “He’s welcome to ride along, but I doubt He’s interested.”

Josh didn’t say a word. He simply looked at Beau with the same eyes that had wept with him for Lucy, then he left to find Adie.

Beau strode back to the blanket where Dani was neatening up. At the sight of him, she pushed to her feet. She’d worn pink today. Until now, he hadn’t noticed. Beau stopped three feet away. He could still smell the chicken. “I’m riding out with Dawes.”

“Of course.”

He hated himself for the quaver in her voice. He wanted to keep her safe, not cause her worry. He wanted other things, too. Things he couldn’t have until Clay Johnson paid for Lucy’s murder. To keep from touching her, he crossed his arms. “I spoke to Josh. You and the girls are staying with them.”

Her brows snapped together. “What about the milking?”

“Howie’s handling it.”

“I see.”

Beau had expected a fight. Instead Dani’s expression melted into womanly concern. His stomach knotted with thoughts he couldn’t afford. Beau couldn’t bring himself to pray to the God who’d let Lucy die, but he wanted to. In the distance he saw the cemetery with its stone markers. He heard children skipping rope and the muffled voices of men and the women who’d fed them. Wordless, he turned to go.

Dani grasped his arm. “I have something for you.”

His eyes followed her hand to the pocket of her pink dress. She reached inside and withdrew Lucy’s handkerchief. “This is yours.”

“Keep it.”

“But—”

“I want you to have it.”

Neither of them had spoken of their feelings, but he could see Dani’s heart welling in her eyes. She cared about him…maybe she even loved him. Beau expected to come back in one piece, but bullets, like lightning, struck without warning. He couldn’t leave without showing Dani how he felt, so he kissed her cheek.

She tipped up her face, putting them just inches apart. “Be careful.”

“I will.”

With his throat tight, he left to borrow a horse from Sheriff Dawes. The sooner Clay Johnson dangled from a rope, the sooner Beau could come home.

Dani and the girls sat huddled on the divan in the parsonage. Stephen had built a fort on the floor out of books and had lined up soldiers for a war. Adie was still in the kitchen, but Pastor Josh had started a story. He’d picked Noah’s ark, a fitting choice with rain pounding the roof and thunder rumbling down the mountains.