The Cactus Creek Challenge (34 page)

“And I’m counting on you to hold that gold.” It was too much to ask of her, too much to throw on her slim shoulders. Her womanly scent, roses and soap and female, filled his senses, and his heart felt like a sandbag with a hole in the bottom.

“Ben, you coming?” Carl’s shout cut through the barn.

His hold on her arms tightened. “I have to go.”

She nodded and stared at the front of his shirt. He raised her chin to look into her eyes once more, this girl-turned-woman who had somehow become ridiculously dear to him. Without stopping to wonder if he was making a mistake, only knowing he couldn’t leave without doing it, he lowered his mouth to hers.

Her lips were warm and so sweet, his head spun, the barn floor lurched under his boots, and his heart thundered in his ears. After a moment of shock where she stood stiff as a fence post, her mouth went soft and pressed against his, her fingers gripping his shirtfront as if she, too, felt the ground shift. His arms came around her as natural as breathing.

This was Cassie Bucknell, the scamp, pest, and all-around pain who had plagued him for years—and yet this was Cassie Bucknell, the woman he cared about, worried about, laughed with, argued with, thought about, and wanted to provide for and protect the rest of his life.

Slowly, he eased back and her eyelids fluttered open. Bewildered, confused, stunned green eyes met his, echoing his own emotions at this turn of events. As much as he longed to stay with her, to thrash everything out and badger her to consider his suit, he had to go.

“Come on, Ben, or I’ll go without you!” Carl slammed his shotgun into his scabbard and swung aboard his big-boned paint gelding.

He closed his eyes for a moment and then set Cassie away from him. “I’ll be back. You take care.”

She pressed something cold and heavy into his hand. Glancing down, he set his jaw, nodding. “Thanks.” He pinned his badge onto his vest, grabbed her up close, pressed a quick, hard kiss to her lips, and turned away.

Without looking back, he strode outside and stepped into the saddle. He’d work through what was going on between him and Cassie later. Right now he had a snake to find.

Cassie raced to the stable door, hanging onto the doorjamb to steady herself, and stared after him as he rode out of town toward the creek where Amanda had been taken. She vacillated between elation at what had just occurred between them and fear for his safety as he rode into unknown danger. His kiss had turned her insides to warm honey, and her wits had flown right out the door. She touched her fingers to her lips, her hand trembling.

Ben Wilder had kissed her—not some brotherly, annoying peck on the cheek, but the kind of kiss a man gave a woman. What did it mean? Was it simply a result of an overcharged moment, or did he truly have feelings for her? When he came home—
please, Lord, let him come home safe with Amanda
—what would change? In the span of a single kiss, she’d dreamed more dreams about him than in all the previous ten years, her girlish crush had matured into a woman’s love, and she knew she’d never be the same again.

Ben had kissed her.

And he’d entrusted her with keeping the gold safe. He could’ve turned everything over to Jigger or his father, but he’d left her in charge. Her hand went to the gun strapped to her hip.

As she made her way back to the jail, she surveyed the street, her eyes lingering on each business, each alleyway, each stack of crates on the boardwalk, and each wagon and saddle horse. She’d do as Ben said, send Jigger out to reconnoiter, and she’d stay with the gold.

The dress shop door opened, and Mary Alice slipped outside holding a paper-wrapped bundle.

“Hello, Miss Bucknell. I was just on my way to the jail to bring you my report. The most dreadful thing happened today. Mr. Stoltzfus showed up and he was mad about what Sheriff Wilder was teaching us. He said the school was a mess, and we were learning all the wrong stuff, and that he was coming back and we’d better put on a good exhibition of having learned our studies properly or he was going to make you leave the school. He said self-defense and tracking and surveillance weren’t part of our curriculum, and Mr. Wilder looked like he wanted to shove Mr. Stoltzfus right out the door.” The words tumbled out without giving Cassie a chance to interrupt. But while she babbled, an idea struck Cassie.

She grabbed Mary Alice’s shoulder and gave her a shake. “Stop. I need you to listen to me. Gather as many of the students as you can and have them report to me …” She glanced around. She couldn’t draw them to the jail. That would be a dead giveaway. “… at the bakery. Quick as you can. I have an assignment for you.”

Mary Alice’s eyes rounded, she gave one quick nod and scurried away without asking questions. “Good girl.”

In ten minutes she had six students crowding around her.

“This was all I could find, Miss Bucknell. I looked for the twins and for Amanda, but I couldn’t find them.” Mary Alice tried to smooth her hair where it fuzzed out of her coronet of braids, color flying in her cheeks from her exertions.

The twins were still on their errand to get Obadiah Wilder, and some of the kids lived too far out of town, but it warmed Cassie’s heart that so many of the children had come. She laced her fingers, tucking them under her chin, and looked into their eager faces.

“I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed seeing you all, and I wish we could just sit and talk and you could fill me in on everything that’s been going on, but I have a big job to do, and I need your help.”

Pierce and Thomas stood a little straighter and nodded, and Bekah and Sarah clasped hands.

“What can we do, Miss Bucknell?” Mary Alice asked.

“Sheriff Wilder taught you the basics of surveillance, right?”

Nods all around.

“I need you to be my eyes here in town. I’m sure you’ve all heard about the gold over at the jail?”

“We did, but Sheriff Wilder told us not to talk about it.” Thomas tucked his hands into his pockets and locked his elbows. “Said a robber might be listening, and that it might put you in a bind.”

Warmth flooded her. Ben had been doing his best to take care of her all along. “He was right. Now, I have to be at the jail to guard the gold, which means I can’t be out and about looking and listening for trouble. And if I was, folks would be suspicious. But nobody would suspect you kids if you’re hanging around the stable or the stores or the depot.”

Wide grins split their faces.

“Go in pairs, remember everything Sheriff Wilder taught you, and bring any of your suspicions to Mary Alice. In particular, I want to know if Melvin or Alvin Shoop are in town, and if so, where they are.”

Pierce snickered. “If they’re in town, they’re at one of the saloons.”

“Don’t go in there. Hang out across the street at the blacksmith’s shop or the feed store. Watch who goes in and out. Mary Alice, if somebody brings you information, you bring it to me at the jail. Got it?”

“We understand. But where is Sheriff Wilder?” Elizabeth put her hand on Cassie’s arm.

She put her arms around Elizabeth and Pierce, bending a bit at the waist. “He had to leave town for a little while to chase down a bad man who did a bad thing. He’s counting on me—on us—to keep the town safe until he gets back. Can you help me?”

“Yes, Miss Bucknell,” they said, in chorus.

“Good. Be discreet and be smart. But above all, be careful.”

C
arl let Ben take the lead, trying to get a grip on his emotions. When the Harrison kid had told him someone took Amanda, his heart turned to stone and his blood ran cold. But his temper was white-hot. He wanted to get his hands on the man—the worm—who had the gall to kidnap his sweet Amanda. He’d make the kidnapper wish he had never been born.

They swung toward the creek past the schoolhouse and down the bank. His chest tightened at the sight of a little pile of sand with twigs poking out of it surrounded by little footprints, mute evidence of where Amanda had been innocently playing—building sand castles and floating sticks on the sluggish, sun-dappled water. His vision narrowed, and he realized he was holding his breath, his chest muscles tight. She should’ve been safe here. She should’ve been able to go about the business of being a little girl without worrying about danger slithering out of the bushes.

Ben pulled his mount up and swung out of the saddle to study the water’s edge. Carl stayed mounted, scanning the far bank. The sheriff led his horse east along the water’s edge, head bent, studying the tracks.

“Here’s where he grabbed her.” Ben pointed to a couple of narrow gouges in the sand, imprints of little heels. “Yanked her off her feet and dragged her through the high weeds here.” Several stalks were bent and broken. After studying the area briefly, Ben remounted and pointed to a mesquite thicket.

“He had his horse tied up over here. There’s cropped grass and some hair from a mane caught on this branch. He must’ve been here for a couple of hours, waiting. Maybe he was waiting for school to be out. Impossible to tell if he was waiting for Amanda specifically or just any kid he could get his hands on. If the goal is to get me out of town and leave the gold exposed, any kid would do.” He raised his head to study the angle of the afternoon sun.

“Easier if the kid is small. And if they were thinking ahead, they would know that if they took Amanda, I’d be hot on her trail with you. That would leave fewer men in town who can handle a gun to guard the gold.” Carl nudged his horse alongside Ben. “Where would he take her?”

The tracks were plain, courtesy of the overnight rain softening the dirt. A single horse. “He’s staying close to the creek, smart since he’d be below the level of the prairie and out of sight of the town. He’s headed east, which means he isn’t going to the Shoop place.”

“Palo Duro Canyon?” Lead settled into Carl’s gut. One hundred twenty miles long, tens of thousands of acres of winding, wild wilderness in which to hide, steep walls, mesquite and juniper thickets, and rugged nothingness. The Grand Canyon of Texas. An outlaw’s paradise.

Ben nodded. “That’s where I’d go if I wanted to shake a posse. We’d best brace ourselves for a hard ride. He’s got about an hour’s head start. If we ride fast, maybe we can catch him before he slips into the canyon.” He tugged his hat down and booted his horse into a canter, leaning over the animal’s neck to keep an eye on the kidnapper’s trail.

Carl’s big paint jumped to follow, feeling fresh from not being ridden in a couple of weeks. He’d chosen the mount with care, swapping his saddle from the mare the twins had originally saddled. The paint had bags of stamina, was stubborn as a goat, and would go until he dropped. He was also big-boned and strong enough to carry a man of Carl’s stature and not show any strain.

They passed north of town, going under the railroad trestle bridge that crossed Cactus Creek, and continuing east. He couldn’t stop thinking about Amanda. Was she tied up? Gagged? Scared out of her wits? Strangers made her leery. To have a man jump out of the bushes and grab her must’ve terrified her. His hands tightened on the reins until the braided leather cut into his palms. In the space of three weeks or so, that little girl had climbed right into his heart, slipped past every defense he’d thrown up. He had to get her back.

His thoughts jumped from Amanda to Jenny. She and Amanda were so close—the daughter a miniature of her mother. Jenny must be going out of her mind with nothing to do but wait and worry. At least he had a purpose, something to focus on, somewhere to put his rage.

All Jenny and Amanda had in the world was each other.

Though the resolve he had to change that had somehow come into focus in the past hour.

I wish I could’ve seen her before I left, talked to her, told her something … anything … to make her feel better. Promised to bring Amanda back safe. Jenny needs someone to lean on, to shield her from the winds of life, to ease her way. I never thought I’d marry again, but as soon as I get Amanda back, I’m going to do it. I’m going to lay all my cards on the table and ask Jenny if she’ll have me
.

But before then, he had to stay steady, think clearly, and focus.

“When we find him, he’s mine,” he hollered ahead at Ben’s back.

The sheriff had sense enough not to argue with him.