The Bounty Hunter's Bride (22 page)

With mud soaking his knees, he thought about Goose and Andy driving him crazy with their taunts. Spring had filled the canyon with pink flowers, and Lucy Morgan had haunted his dreams every night. This morning when a horse went missing, Clay had ridden down the canyon alone to search for it. The gray had good instincts, but he’d missed Ricochet so much he’d cried. All morning, he’d wondered if horses went to Heaven.

Chilled to the bone, he hung his head. If Morgan’s gun had fired, he’d have made the trip to eternity himself. He’d have been worm food. Dry bones. Maybe something worse…A man being eaten alive for all time in the belly of Reverend Blue’s whale. But Clay hadn’t died. Neither had he killed Beau Morgan. He’d done something right. How could that be?

Blinking, he thought of his mother reading him Bible stories. He could see her brown hair piled on her head. He smelled bread and candles and recalled one night in particular.

Jesus loves you, little boy. I do, too. But I have to leave.

Why, Mama? Where are you going?

She’d coughed until she was breathless. She’d done that a lot in those days. He recalled the handkerchief she kept tucked in her sleeve, a cotton square dotted with blood. A month after that talk about Jesus, she’d died of consumption. Recalling her stories now, Clay knew she’d gone to be with the Lord. Blinking, he recalled asking her a question.

Can I go with you?

Not now, but someday.

She’d prayed with him. He’d been a mere boy, but he’d understood that Jesus loved him. After his mother’s death, for a time he’d gone to church with his cousin, but that had changed when Clay got his height and muscle. He’d been an angry young man and life’s temptations had called to him. He’d put his boyhood prayer out of his mind, but then Ricochet died. Now he couldn’t stop thinking about eternity.

“Help me, Lord.”

As he bowed his head, he expected to feel the whack of his father’s fist breaking his nose. Clay had done terrible things. He’d stolen. He’d maimed. He’d killed six men. Worst of all, he’d shot Lucy Morgan in the back. He didn’t deserve to live, yet here he was…breathing in gray mist when Beau Morgan’s bullet should have sent him to eternity.

Someone had spared his life and it hadn’t been Beau Morgan. Startled, he opened his eyes. Where did a man look for God? In the sky with its promise of Heaven? In a meadow full of pink flowers? Clay didn’t know, but he understood a simple truth. God had been in the canyon. For reasons Clay couldn’t grasp, the Almighty had spared his life. He’d spared Morgan, too. The men had made a trade of sorts. An eye for an eye…a life for a life. As a boy, Clay had learned about another trade. Jesus had died for Clay’s sins. But what about now? How did a man wash a woman’s blood from his hands? The answer came in a whisper.

A man told the truth.

He paid a price.

If need be, he faced the gallows. Jesus had paid for Clay’s sin for the sake of eternity, but Beau Morgan had a right to justice in the here and now. Clay had the power—the need—to give it to him. Feeling as if he’d set down a fifty-pound stone, he climbed on the gray. Rain had washed the dust from the canyon. Grass glistened as if covered with morning dew. Not even the smell of mud filled his nose as he neared camp, where Goose and Andy were splitting a pint of whiskey.

Goose saw him and frowned. “Where have you been?”

Clay ignored him. “I’m leaving.”

“You’re
what?
” Goose said.

“We’re splitting up.”

“Why?” Andy asked.

“I’m done.”

Goose looked him up and down, taking in his muddy hands and the stains on his knees. “Did you fall and hit your head?”

“I’m sick of it,” Clay said. “I’ve had enough.”

Andy chimed in. “What about the horses? We agreed to a three-way split.”

“I’ll buy you two out.”

Clay wasn’t worried about going to jail for stealing horses. He figured he’d hang for Lucy Morgan’s murder. Returning the horses was a matter of pride. It made him feel like a man.

Andy knocked back a slug of whiskey, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “How much?”

Clay named the amount of cash he had in his saddlebag.

“We’d get more in Durango,” Goose said.

“You don’t know what you’d get,” Clay said mildly. “This is a sure thing.”

Goose wrinkled his brow. “I don’t get it. What are you going to do with the horses?”

“Give ’em back.”

Andy knocked his head as if he had wax in his ears. “What’d you say?”

“I’m taking them back.” Clay didn’t want his partners to think he’d gone soft. A man had his pride. “I’ve got a plan. I just saw Morgan.”

“Did you kill him?” Andy asked.

“I had a misfire.” Not the gun. Clay’s finger had failed.

“If I were you, I’d head south. This fight is mine.” So was the surrender.

Goose grunted. “I’m sick to death of this canyon.”

“Me, too,” said Andy.

Clay crouched by the fire and poured himself a cup of hot coffee. It tasted good. He hadn’t enjoyed coffee in a long time. Feeling generous, he looked at his former partners. “I’m giving you two a chance for a clean start. Take it.”

“What about you?” Goose asked.

Clay smiled. “I’m going to church.”

Andy smirked. “You’re going after Morgan.”

“That’s right.”

Only Clay knew he’d be going unarmed. He knew from Andy that Morgan would bring the woman and the girls to church, but that he wouldn’t stay. Clay planned to slip into a back pew, listen to Reverend Blue and even sing a hymn or two. When the service ended, he’d turn himself in for Lucy Morgan’s murder. It didn’t matter if he hanged or went to prison. He’d found peace.

B
eau had been gone for six days when Dani heard a knock on the parsonage door. She opened it with a prayer on her lips.
Please, God…Let it be him.

Instead of Beau’s broad shoulders, she saw Howie Dawes with mussed hair and windburned cheeks. His horse stood behind him, glistening from a fast ride.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“It’s Daff. Her udder’s hot.”

“Come inside.”

As she held the door, Adie came out of the kitchen. “What happened?”

“It’s one of the cows.” Dani explained Daff’s history. “We could lose her. I have to go.”

More than Daff’s milk was at stake. Dani had spent hours with Adie, praying and trying not to worry about Beau. What if he didn’t come back? She’d been with the Blues for six days. Tomorrow would be the seventh. Without Beau there would be no wedding. Without a wedding, she’d lose the girls. Dani would fight for them, but it would take a miracle for a judge to rule in her favor. If she lost a cow now, she wouldn’t stand a chance against Harriet Lange.

Dani hoped Adie would understand. “The girls and I need to go home.”

Her brow creased. “What about Beau?”

“He knows where to find us.” Dani turned to Howie. “Would you hitch up the surrey?”

“Sure.”

As the boy walked to the stable, Adie touched Dani’s arm.

“Will we see you in church tomorrow?”

“I’ll be in church, but I won’t be getting married.”

“Don’t give up,” Adie said.

“I already have.”

She’d spent six days worrying about Beau and praying for him. She’d begged God to keep him safe and give him the peace he couldn’t find on his own. She’d prayed for the girls, too. They needed protection, the kind she couldn’t give alone. Beau had let them down, but Dani had her faith. The future belonged to God, not Beau Morgan.

“There’s still time,” Adie said. “If he—”

“It’s too late.”

Dani went to the backyard to fetch the girls. When she told them they were going home, no one said a word. They said goodbye to Stephen, then went to the guest room to gather their things. The girls understood the impact of Beau’s absence as well as Dani. Harriet Lange loomed like a specter.

Dani had more than a few harsh words for the man who’d put them in this position. Even if he made it back in time for a wedding, she had doubts about the marriage. Beau had chosen Clay over her. His decision hung like a cloud, but so did Harriet Lange and her threats. With two bad choices—marrying Beau in spite of her resentment or saying no and fighting Harriet Lange—Dani thought of Josh’s sermon about a man walking by the light of his own fire. Right now, she had no light at all.

As she guided the girls into the yard, Howie drove up in the surrey. “Are you ready, Miss Baxter?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

He climbed down from the seat and took off his hat.

“Would it be okay if I went to see my ma?”

At the sight of Howie’s eager expression, Dani felt her heart crack with longing. She wanted children who’d call her mama and be eager to see her. “Of course. In fact, you can stay home until Monday.”

“Thanks!” The boy climbed on his horse and rode off.

Adie hugged Dani. “Stay strong, honey. Beau’s a mere man, but the Lord won’t let you down.”

The girls said goodbye to Adie and climbed into the surrey. Dani steered for home. The future loomed like a long night, but she wouldn’t be facing it alone. Even in the dark, the Lord was at her side.

Beau stopped to rest his horse, but he didn’t indulge in real sleep or eat more than jerky. At the spot where he’d gone fishing with the girls, he washed the mud from his face and arms. His clothes were caked with it, but he didn’t bother to change. He had to get home to Dani. He had amends to make and he knew it.

What he
didn’t
know concerned Clay Johnson. Why hadn’t the man fired his rifle? Beau didn’t know and the lack of understanding troubled him. Johnson had shown him the ultimate mercy. He’d spared Beau’s life. Beau wouldn’t have been so kind. All the way down the trail, he’d thought about the look in Johnson’s eyes. If it hadn’t been for his promise to Dani, he would have followed Clay into the canyon.

But for what purpose? Beau didn’t know what to think. Was he supposed to be grateful to Clay for sparing his life? He wouldn’t have been there if Clay hadn’t killed Lucy in the first place. It added up to one big tangle. Beau intended to marry Dani and stay with her, but a piece of his soul had ridden into the mist with Clay. He didn’t feel at peace with God, either. The Almighty had saved his life twice, but Beau still hadn’t hit his knees. Had justice been served? God had spared Clay, too. Beau wanted finality. Instead he had more loose ends than ever.

Riding into Castle Rock, he tasted his old bitterness. Johnson and his men were still wanted for raiding the Rocking J, so Beau rode to Dawes’s office and went inside. Instead of the sheriff, he saw Ace at the desk with his feet up. The deputy saw Beau and smirked. “You’re a mess.”

Beau ignored the barb. “I found Johnson.”

“Where?” Ace slammed his feet to the floor.

“Deep in Sparrow Canyon.”

“Did you get him?”

Beau grunted. “My weapon misfired. He got away.”

“Tough luck,” said the deputy. “Though it might explain Baylor’s horses.”

“What about them?”

“They showed up at the ranch. All of them except a gray.”

Beau knew the horse and who was on it, but he didn’t know why Clay and his partners had turned the horses loose. He’d expected them to ride south. It didn’t make sense. Beau didn’t think Clay would come after him, but he couldn’t be sure. That moment in the canyon had been crazy, even unreal. For three days, Beau had struggled to make sense of it. Maybe Clay had done the same thing. Maybe he’d changed his mind about killing Beau. Maybe he liked the chase and had let Beau live just to torture him.

“Where’s Dawes?” he asked.

“Having supper.” Ace stood and reached for his hat. “He needs to know what you saw. I’ll take you to his house.”

“You tell him.” Beau headed for the door.

He had to get to Dani. He didn’t expect Johnson to go after her, but neither could he rule it out. With the sun hovering above the hills, he urged the roan to the parsonage. Expecting to stay for supper, he led the horse into the stable where he saw Josh’s rigs but not the surrey. Beau could think of only one reason for the surrey to be missing and he didn’t like it. Dani had gone home. Leaving his horse saddled, he strode to the parsonage.

Josh stepped through the front door. Crossing his arms, he looked Beau up and down. “Did you crawl out of a grave or dig one?”

“Both.”

“I take it Clay’s dead.”

Beau chuffed. “Not hardly. Where’s Dani?”

“At the farm.”

“I told her to wait here.”

“One of the cows had a problem. She went to tend it.”

Beau worried about Daff. As he turned to leave, Josh kicked a chair away from the wall. “Sit down.”

The minister wasn’t prone to foul moods, but he was in one now. Beau raised one brow. “Is that an order?”

“Only if you want to get married in
my
church.”

“It’s God’s church.”

“And he put me in charge.”

Thanks to Harriet Lange’s interference, Beau needed Josh’s approval. He feared for Dani’s safety, but the odds of Clay beating him to the farm were slim. Beau had ridden hard. The Rocking J lay on the opposite side of Castle Rock. Beau strode up the steps and sat. “Make it quick.”

“What happened?” Josh stayed on his feet.

Beau told his friend about the flood, the mud and the misfire. “He could have killed me, but he didn’t.”

“What do you think stopped him?”

“I don’t know.”

Josh lowered his voice. “It was a long time ago, but I planted seeds in Clay’s life. He knows about God’s grace. Maybe those seeds finally sprouted.”

Beau flashed on Clay lowering the gun. Josh’s explanation made as much sense as Beau’s belief that Clay had gone crazy. Either way, the outlaw had lost his mind. For good or for evil? It remained to be seen.

“You know the parable,” Josh said. “Some seeds fall on good soil and grow. Others break through but die when the weather turns bad. Some don’t grow at all. Frankly, Clay struck me as hard soil, but dirt changes with time and bad weather. So does a man.”

Beau thought of the storm in the canyon. Rain had softened the earth to mud. Water had moved boulders and ripped away trees, changing the course of the stream and its very nature. The rain had blurred Clay, as well. Even with his gun in hand, he’d seemed as formless as his name.

Josh’s voice dipped low. “Be careful, Beau. I hope Clay’s changed, but we can’t know for sure. Nothing’s more dangerous than a man who sees the light and then turns his back.”

Beau had made that choice when he’d left Dani. She’d offered the light of love. He’d chosen the darkness of his hate and had almost destroyed their future. He’d never make that mistake again. Before this night ended, he’d have that overdue talk with the Lord. In the meantime, he needed Josh’s help.

“I know about turning my back on the light,” Beau said.

“I’m home to stay.”

“That’s good news.”

“It’ll be even better if you’ll agree to marry Dani and me.”

Josh looked at Beau with an expression befitting the seriousness of the question. “Do you love her?”

“I do.”

“Will you raise your nieces as your own?”

“You bet I will.”

“I have another question,” Josh said. “A hard one.”

“Ask it.”

“Do you love them enough to forget Clay Johnson?”

Beau hadn’t seen the question coming. “I won’t lie, Josh. I’m not done with it. I don’t understand what happened in that canyon, but I know one thing. Dani matters more than Clay.”

“You need to tell her.”

“I will,” Beau answered. “Will you do the ceremony?”

“When?”

“Tomorrow.”

Josh’s eyes twinkled. “I’ll do it, but I’m not the one you have to convince.”

Beau pushed to his feet. “Say a prayer. I have some apologizing to do.”

“It’s good practice.” Josh chuckled, but Beau barely heard it. He’d already gone down the stairs.

He didn’t have to push his tired horse. When they reached the road to the farm, the roan went into a lope. As they passed the charred pine, Beau thought of his brother. This journey had begun with his passing, but it wouldn’t end in sorrow. Silently he promised Patrick that he’d love Emma, Ellie and Esther like his own children. He didn’t mention Dani. She was Beau’s alone.

He rode into the yard and swung down from his horse. The front room and kitchen were dark. So was Dani’s window. Beau looked up to the second floor where he saw a lamp burning in the girls’ bedroom. He pictured Dani reading them a story. Someday she’d read to a child carrying his blood.

That is, if she’d have him.

Needing to care for his horse, Beau headed for the barn. As he gripped the reins, his gaze landed on a gold triangle stretching from the open door. A shadow—Dani’s shadow—inched into the light. He took in the length of her body, her crossed arms, the tilt of her chin as she spotted his horse. She stopped at the threshold. “You’re back.”

Beau stopped, too. “I kept my promise.”

“I see.”

“If you’ll have me, Josh will marry us tomorrow.”

Dani didn’t know what to say. Six days ago, Beau had left the farm as Cain, a man doomed to wander without God. He’d come back for the sake of the children, but had he come back for
her?
Even more important, had he come back with the piece of his soul he’d given to Clay Johnson? Looking at him in the moonlight, she couldn’t tell. He’d pulled his hat low, hiding his eyes but not his ragged jaw. His duster, blotched with mud, looked as stiff as his spine.

She wiped her hands on her apron. “I’m still milking.”

“I’ll help.”

“It’s not necessary. Buttercup’s the last one.”

Beau’s brow creased. “Josh said a cow was sick. Is it Daff?”

“She’s fine.” As soon as Dani had arrived at the farm, she’d checked the fussy cow and found nothing. Daff, she decided, had missed her family. Looking at Beau, she wondered if he felt the same way.

He pushed back his hat. “I’m glad Daff’s okay.”

His concern riled Dani beyond reason. If he thought he could waltz home and she’d fall at his feet, he had some more thinking to do. Dani went back in the barn, sat on the stool and went to work on Buttercup. She had her back to the door, but she heard the clop of hooves as Beau led his horse to its stall. He set the saddle on a rack with a thud, then brushed his horse and gave it a measure of oats.

Dani lifted the milk bucket and carried it to the can. While she poured, Beau took the cow to the pasture. She covered the milk cans, then went outside to wash the bucket. She finished the chore, turned and saw Beau in the doorway, blocking her from putting the pail away. She wasn’t in the mood for his high-handed ways.