The Bounty Hunter's Redemption (27 page)

“Stogsdill’s face is on a wanted poster. He won’t risk questioning folks. Still, you make a good point. The less we see of each other, the better.”

Carly pulled in a fortifying breath. “You’ll stay away? Away from the shop?”

“Yes,” he said. “As soon as the hearing ends tomorrow afternoon and I’m free to leave, I’ll ride to Louisville. If Stogsdill isn’t on the next train from St. Louis, I’ll head back here and hole up in the deserted shack in the woods not far from the Pence farm, the perfect spot to lie in wait.”

“What if Stogsdill doesn’t come that way? Or knows about the shack, too?”

“You’ll just have to trust I’m good at my job.”

“Good at your job?” she all but shrieked. “Do you believe you’re invincible? What if Stogsdill ambushes you first?”

What if he
killed
Nate? The possibility shot through Carly, careening against every muscle and nerve. She couldn’t imagine her world without Nate in it. When had he taken root in her heart?

She stifled a sigh. Nor could she imagine her world with Nate in it, at least permanently. Too much stood between them—his job, the shop, his lack of faith.

Her gaze locked with Nate’s. “If Stogsdill should get to Debby first and learns you showed Debby his wanted poster, he won’t rest until he gets revenge.”

“He’s been gunning for me for years. Yet I’ve managed to survive.” He traced her cheek, his fingertips sending a chill down her spine. “I’m grateful you don’t want to see me six feet under.”

“Don’t be silly,” Carly huffed. “But admit it. You don’t have control of this situation. You don’t know what train he’ll board. When he’ll arrive. All this is speculation.

“Anna and I deserved to know your plan.” Carly stepped out of his reach and thrust her hands on her hips. “Once Stogsdill has you in his sights, he’ll discover your sister works with me. He’ll discover you’ve been seen with Henry and me.”

“Surely you know I care for you. You and Henry. I’ll protect you with my life.”

Carly wouldn’t say what sprang to mind:
Like you protected Rachel.
As frightened as she was, she could never be that cruel and blame Nate for failing the woman he loved. No one could provide absolute protection.

“I’m relieved Debby won’t be marrying the man, but this plan of yours puts her life in danger.”

“Her grandfather and Sheriff Truitt are prepared to protect Debby and Mrs. Pence, if Stogsdill should get past me.”

“When did Mr. Pence send that telegram? How long did you say we have before Stogsdill arrives?”

“He sent the wire late yesterday. If he comes by train, the trip from St. Louis to Louisville takes most of a day.”

“That means he could arrive tonight!”

“Carly, I don’t believe he could get the wire immediately. If the judge rules tomorrow afternoon, I should be able to arrive in time to meet the first train he can possibly be on.”

“I pray you do, Nate, because I can’t consider what will happen if you’re wrong. Well, I need to put Henry to bed,” she said, and then hurried inside.

One day
. One day before a monster could arrive in town.

The man she’d feared falling in love with had shown his true colors, as she’d always known he would. He’d put his goal to bring in Stogsdill ahead of his concern for her and Henry.

Why was she surprised? No man had ever put her or her son’s well-being first.

Lord, no one has the power to protect us but You.

Not even a fast-draw bounty hunter spouting promises of protection. Promises he’d already failed to keep.

Chapter Twenty

O
ne o’clock Saturday afternoon Carly entered the church, her stomach tied into more knots than a curly headed tot with molasses in its hair.

This was the day the judge would rule. The day she’d learn her fate. One more day, even today, and Stogsdill could arrive in town.

No matter how much Nate claimed to care about her and Henry, did he even want home and hearth? Once he captured Stogsdill, would that satisfy him? Or was bounty hunting in his blood? Vengeance forever in his heart?

The side door opened. Wearing a sober expression and a gun on his hip, Judge Rohlof entered the makeshift courtroom.

Carly rose to her feet, along with a packed sanctuary, then sat once the judge took his seat at the table, this time a single sheet of paper in his hand.

“Sheriff Truitt was called to a ruckus at the saloon. Please follow the same procedure as yesterday. Even with the sheriff away, I’m prepared to toss anyone who can’t behave out on his ear.”

An already quiet courtroom got quieter still.

“After hearing testimony on the ownership of Lillian’s Alterations and Dressmaking and consulting my law books, I’m prepared to rule. The deed to the shop in question was wagered and lost by Max Richards on the afternoon of April 1, 1898, three days before his death on April 4, 1898. Therefore, the deed was not part of Max Richards’s estate and would not pass on to his widow.” His gaze darted to Carly, then on to Anna. “Therefore, I rule on behalf of the plaintiff. Anna Hankins is now legal owner of Lillian’s.”

As a muffled gasp rose from those in attendance, Carly closed her eyes, taking deep breaths, fighting for calm. She’d known her chances were not good, but nevertheless she’d clung to hope.

Everything had changed. She’d lost her livelihood. She’d lost their home. She’d lost a future here in Gnaw Bone.

Soon she would lose Anna, who’d become like a sister to her. And the man who had no idea how to put away his pistol and settle down.

“However,” the judge went on to say, “my decision does not include the shop’s contents. Mrs. Richards purchased every spool of thread and bolt of fabric and lace. Therefore, I instruct Mrs. Richards to give a fair estimate of their value. Mrs. Hankins can either reimburse Mrs. Richards, or return the contents of the shop to her. I’ve instructed the sheriff to see that this transfer occurs in a timely fashion. With the sensible heads these two ladies possess, I’m sure they will come to a mutually satisfactory solution.”

With the buzzing going on in her head, Carly struggled to decipher the judge’s words.
Please, Lord, don’t let me faint
.

Judge Rohlof tugged off his wire-rimmed spectacles. “I’d like Mr. Sergeant and Mrs. Richards to approach the bench.” He gazed at the onlookers. “The rest of you head on home. The show’s over.”

Carly got to her feet as her neighbors shuffled up the aisle. Some stopped to pat her hand or to wrap her in a hug. By the time she reached the judge, her throat was clogged with unshed tears.

As she stepped to Nate’s side, the misery she saw in his eyes stiffened her spine. He’d gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he?

“I’m sorry,” he said, then opened his arms.

She sidestepped those arms, arms that might’ve once brought comfort, but that comfort was merely an illusion. He’d brought all this on them. How dare he pretend the outcome upset him?

Judge Rohlof cleared his throat and turned kind eyes on them. “It’s not in my jurisdiction to rule on matters of the heart. However, anyone can see you care about each other. During the hearing, I noticed the furtive glances passing between you. Sheriff Truitt tells me you work at the livery, Mr. Sergeant. Do you earn a decent wage there?”

“Yes, sir.”

The judge folded his hands on the sheet of paper detailing his ruling. “Then you can afford to support a wife and child. My suggestion—quit ignoring your feelings and get hitched, thereby keeping the shop in the family and making everyone happy.”

Carly tried to work up a smile but failed. “Thank you for your concern, Judge Rohlof, but Mr. Sergeant has a quest and won’t be staying.”

Nate’s gaze met hers and then slid away.

“Well, in that case, Mrs. Richards, I misjudged the situation.” He heaved a sigh. “It’s never easy to give a ruling that wounds good people.”

She thrust back her shoulders. “My son and I will be fine.”

“I’m sure you will. I always say the backbone of this great country of ours is our womenfolk. Well, I wish you all the best of luck.” He rose and ambled through the side door.

As soon as the door closed, Carly hustled up the aisle, Nate on her heels.

“Carly, please, talk to me.”

She whipped around. “What is there to say?”

“I’m sorry.”

“So you said. Sorry for what? That I lost the shop or that you’re leaving?”

“Both. I’ve got a job to do.” His gaze locked with hers. “You know I don’t have a choice.”

“In one thing, you do. Admit it, Nate. You don’t want to merely capture Stogsdill, you want him dead.”

He glanced away, unable to deny her words.

Carly could never accept a man bent on taking a life. “I need to collect my son from Mrs. Harders,” she said, then strode outside.

Anna waited and tugged Carly into a hug. “We need to talk.”

“Anna, you can’t fix this. Henry and I will...”

The bravado Carly had showed in front of the judge, in front of Nate, threatened to crumble. She bit her lower lip and turned away, fighting tears.

She’d lost the business she and Henry had paid dearly for with years under Max’s thumb.

Everything she’d endured, everything she’d worked for—

Gone.

Exactly what she deserved.

* * *

One look at Carly’s pain-racked eyes had Nate taking a step back. As much as he longed to wrap her in his arms, he knew that was the last thing she’d want.

Still, he had to try to make her understand. He stepped between her and his sister. “You and Anna both deserve the shop. I never meant to hurt you, Carly.”

“Didn’t you?” Carly leaned toward him. “You hurt me the day you came into my shop and threatened to take it away. Exactly what’s happened.” Tears flooded her eyes. She wiped at them with the back of her hand. “Our business is concluded, Nate. You got the shop. Now go get your criminal.” She lifted her chin. “I have to...figure out what to do next.”

He reached for her. “Carly, please—”

“I’ve got no choice but to move. I’ll be out of your way as soon as—”

Henry skidded to a halt in front of them, his young face contorted, tears streaking down his cheeks.

The boy looked up at Nate, his eyes wide, as if seeing him for the first time. “You did it?” he said, his voice soft and broken.

Nate lowered himself to Henry’s height. “Did what?”

“You...” Henry’s lower lip wobbled, his cheeks flushed. “You killed my pa?” he said with a heartbreakingly hopeful lilt at the end of the question, as if to say, “Please tell me it’s not true. Please tell me you didn’t do it.”

Nate closed his eyes and dragged in a shuddering breath. If only he could lie. If only he could say the words Henry wanted to hear, the words that would stop this little boy from hating him. Nate clung to this second, this too short fraction of time, before the truth detonated like a spark to a stick of dynamite, destroying all the good times they’d shared. “I did, but—”

“You killed him?” Henry’s voice broke and the hope drained from his face. Carly laid a hand on Henry’s shoulder, but he shook it off. “Wh...wh...why?”

Please, Lord, how to explain this?
What words could Nate use to justify his actions? To tell Henry his father was dead because of Nate’s gun, Nate’s bullet, Nate’s sense of right and wrong.

That Henry’s father was dead because Max Richards was a bad man and Nate’s job was to stop the bad men in this world.

Nate thought of his parents, of the day Stogsdill or some member of his gang had shot them dead. They’d been good people, decent people, who’d worked hard and loved fiercely. That pain had been like a lance in Nate’s chest, a wound that had never fully healed.

This was his legacy to Henry, an unwanted gift that would forever haunt this sweet little boy.

“I didn’t want to do it, Henry,” Nate said. “I really didn’t.”

In all the years Nate had done this job, he’d never had to face the son of a man he’d killed. He’d never had to face that grief dead-on. He’d never had to look at the tremble of a little boy’s lips, the tears in his eyes, and wish he could go back in time and stop the bullet’s course before it entered Richards’s heart.

Nate had wanted only to protect, to help the boy. To fill that void, that need for a father.

The terrible truth seeped into his soul. If not for him, Henry would still have his dad, a man who’d failed him, sure, but a man Henry still yearned for.

“I’m sorry.”

Carly knelt beside her son and tried to tug him into her arms but his feet remained planted in place. “Sweetie, Nate was just trying to, uh, stop your pa from doing something bad.”

“My pa didn’t do bad things. He didn’t. He didn’t,” he said a third time, as if that would erase the past, then he lifted his face to Nate’s. Pain shimmered in his eyes, colored by disbelief and, worst of all, betrayal. “You—” he sucked in a sob “—you did.”

“Henry—”

He shoved his mother’s arms away. The Stetson on his head toppled to the ground, tumbling to a stop in a mud puddle.

“I’m really sorry, Henry. I didn’t know he was your father and I didn’t know...”

How much his death would hurt.

“You did it,” Henry said, his voice a harsh, sad whisper. “You did it.”

“I’m sorry,” Nate said again, but he knew, no matter how many times he said it, his apology wouldn’t be enough.

“I don’t care!” Henry lunged. His fists hit Nate in the chest, hard, pointed. His voice exploded in wrenching sobs. “I hate you! I hate you!”

Then he ran, his thin legs pumping toward home. A home no longer his. A home Nate had stolen from Henry, too.

He had to do something to make things right between them. “Henry, wait!” Nate started after him.

“Let him go,” Carly said, coming up behind him. “Haven’t you done enough damage to my family already?”

All the good times he and Henry had shared were gone, along with what was left of a seven-year-old boy’s innocence. “Carly, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“Whether you meant to or not, you came along and set the wheels in motion. You encouraged Henry’s affection, all the while concerned with far more pressing matters than a little boy’s happiness. You’ve hurt my son.”