The Cactus Creek Challenge (39 page)

Jenny nodded, her movements lethargic, as if she were tired down to her very bones, which Cassie could sympathize with. Jenny wouldn’t be totally at ease until Amanda was wrapped in her arms, but until then, she must be drawing great comfort to know that Carl was watching out for her little girl.

When Cassie was alone in the jail, she shoved the straw man onto the floor and sank into the chair behind the desk. She laid her head on her arms, wanting to cry in gratitude and relief that Ben was home, Carl and Amanda were safe, and the gold remained under lock and key. And to top it all off, Louise and her baby were fine. What a night for Cactus Creek.

Ben returned, and Cassie wished with all her heart that the cells were empty. She had so much she wanted to say, so much she needed to know, but with their felonious audience, speech was impossible.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” She unbuckled the gun belt and laid it on the desk.

Ben’s hand came up and cupped her cheek. She wanted to melt into the warm caress, and tears came to her eyes.

“Tomorrow, kiddo.” He dropped a chaste kiss on her forehead, the kind that used to drive her crazy because it was done in such a brotherly, patronizing manner. But not this time. This time his kiss comforted and promised.

J
enny was up with the birds, too churned up and eager to sleep, and it was all she could do to let Cassie persuade her not to ride out to find Carl and Amanda herself.

“They’ll be here.” Cassie stretched and slid from Amanda’s bed where she’d spent the rest of the night. “Ben promised.”

Jenny observed her friend, dressed in just her shift, reaching for the crumpled dress she’d worn the day before. “What else did Ben say?”

Cassie turned innocent wide green eyes her way. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I saw the way you were looking at each other last night. Something happened between you two or something is about to.”

Her blush was delightful, filling Jenny’s parched and knotted heart with warmth. “I knew it.”

“Nothing’s settled yet.” Cassie tugged the sprigged red calico over her head and began trying to make some sense out of her tousled red curls.

“Of course not. There’s been no time, what with the shenanigans the Shoop brothers have been trying. Just you wait. When things settle down, Ben Wilder will be knocking on your door.”

At that moment, a knock sounded on Jenny’s door, and she flew down the stairs, leaving Cassie laughing behind.

Flinging open the door, her heart soared. Carl Gustafson filled the doorway, and perched on his arm, beaming at her, was her darling daughter.

“Mama!” Amanda launched herself into Jenny’s waiting arms, and they sank to the floor together. Jenny held her daughter tight, trying to meld them together so they would never be separated. Tears flowed as she kissed her hair, held her away to check her over, then clasped her close again.

“Oh, baby, I was so worried. Are you all right? You didn’t get hurt, did you?” Jenny took in the torn dress, the dirty face, the disheveled hair.

“I’m not hurt, Mama, except you’re squeezing me so tight.” The aggrieved tone in Amanda’s voice did more to ease Jenny’s worries than anything. She loosened her hold a fraction, laughing and wiping tears.

She became conscious of Carl still standing there and scrambled to her feet, keeping her arm around Amanda. “How can I thank you?”

“No thanks necessary, ma’am.” For some reason, he seemed distant, gruff, even shy. Gruff she was used to, but shy? Carl Gustafson? And he’d called her ma’am.

“Can I get you some coffee? Please, come in and sit down.”

“No, thanks. I need to tend to the horses, and there’s some other things I have to do.” He jerked his thumb toward the open door, and she spied the body of Ivan Shoop draped across his saddle.

“Of course.” She looked away and into Carl’s eyes, trying to read there what had changed. He revealed nothing, just squatted to speak to Amanda. To Jenny’s astonishment, Amanda wrapped her arms around his burly shoulders, whispering into his ear. His eyes finally twinkled, and he shrugged and nodded.

Jenny stared at his retreating back, unable to believe he’d left so abruptly.
You were hoping for more, weren’t you, girl? Much more. What did you think he would do? Sweep you into his arms and swear his everlasting devotion?

Of course not
, she argued with herself, even as her cheeks grew hot.

Liar
.

“You must be hungry, darling. We’ll feed you and get you a hot bath and fresh clothes. Miss Bucknell is upstairs getting dressed. She spent the night here so I wouldn’t be lonely until you got back.” She held her hand out to Amanda. “By the way, what did you say to Mr. Gustafson?”

Amanda looked up at her reproachfully. “Mama, if I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret.”

Carl led his mount and that of the unfortunate Mr. Shoop toward the stable, kicking himself for being the biggest fool in Christendom. The sight of Amanda and Jenny together had nearly undone him. He’d come awful close to scooping them both up and holding them pretty near forever. The way she’d whispered into Amanda’s hair, the tears she hadn’t tried to stem, the look of peace that invaded Jenny’s face, a maternal look he would never understand but always be in awe of, made her so beautiful, he had barely resisted dropping to his knees and pouring out his love for her right there.

He glanced down at his trail-stained self. Dirty, tired, with a beard only a mountain man would envy. No prize from any civilized quarter. Certainly not in any shape to go courting. Anyway, Jenny deserved time with Amanda without him barging in. He could wait.

Probably.

He entered his livery stable and breathed deeply, inhaling the scents of hay and grain, dust and horse, his life. He heard voices, young voices from the far end near Misery’s stall.

“Who’s in here?” His voice vibrated the rafters.

Two blond, curly mops stuck their heads out into the aisle. “Hey, Mr. Gustafson. You bring Amanda back?” The Harrison twins tumbled out of a stall like bobcat kits. “We figured with you out chasing bandits and Mrs. Hart all worried about Amanda, there might not be anyone to look after the horses. We come to help.”

He grinned and engulfed the boys’ heads with his palms, giving them a shake. “Thanks, troops. I appreciate it. Amanda’s home safe, and the bandit is done for.”

Their eyes grew round as they peered around him at the horses, one with his grim burden.

“Did you kill him?”

“My shot was a bit too late. Sheriff Wilder killed Ivan Shoop when he tried to hurt Amanda.”

They beamed. “I knew it. I knew he’d get the bad guy, just like his dad. Cactus Creek has the best sheriffs in Texas.” They hunched their shoulders, ramming their hands in their pockets.

“That decides it for me. I’m going to be sheriff when I grow up,” the one on the left said.

“You can’t.
I’m
going to be the sheriff,” the one on the right countered. “You can be my deputy.”

“Forget that nonsense. I ain’t going to be your deputy. You can be
my
deputy.”

Sensing a never-ending argument cresting, Carl leaned forward, put his hands on his knees, and stared them into silence. “How about you both be my deputies for the day and help me tend to the horses.” He poked the left one in the shoulder. “You go tell the minister to call his grave diggers so we can plant Ivan. He isn’t going to keep forever.”

The boy scampered away, full of life and energy. His brother stood his ground. “What do you want me to do?”

“Help me unsaddle these horses, curry ’em, feed ’em, and turn ’em out.”

They fell to work, and he had to admire the little fellow. There was no quit to him, even when he got nearly buried by the large stock saddle as he pulled it from Carl’s horse.

Once they had all but Ivan’s horse cared for, Carl stretched his back. “Hey, buddy, think you can handle things from here? I’m going to cart the body over to the jail; then I need to get cleaned up a bit.”

“Sure enough. Quincy will be back soon.”

“Just stay away from the stallion down at the end. I’ll feed and water him before I go.”

“You don’t have to. We already did. We been watching Mrs. Hart, and if you sing to him, he’s nice as molasses cookies. She’s got him right gentled now. She sure knows how to tame down wild things, don’t she?”

Don’t she indeed?

Carl left the stable, willingly counting himself one of her victims.

It seemed no matter how hard she tried, Cassie could not get Ben alone. She raced home from Jenny’s place to change her clothes—after a brief, happy hug fest with Amanda—and paid a quick visit to Louise’s room to cuddle her new niece, who was perfect in every way, from her button nose to the dusting of fiery red hair on her sweet head. Donald stuck his chest out and beamed, rocking on his toes, and Louise, pale and tired, rested on a mountain of pillows.

Cassie tripped down the stairs to head back to the jail only to find her mother in complete disarray. The arrival of the new baby had pushed everything else from her mind until the dressmaker arrived with her sewing kit and lethal pins to remind Mama that Millie’s wedding was less than five days away. Cassie, who had somehow forgotten all month to get her bridesmaid dress fitted, was corralled and forced to stand on a footstool in the parlor with her arms out like a scarecrow while Miss Rosenblatt poked, prodded, and pricked her way through an hour of dressmaking. Cassie’s only saving grace was that she loved the soft, green gown and couldn’t wait for Ben to see her in it.

When she would’ve made her escape, Cassie was all but frog-marched by her mother into the dining room to sort silk flowers and create the hair accessories and bouquets and boutonnieres for the wedding party. Millie’s eyes sparkled, and she giggled her way through the day thinking of nothing but her upcoming nuptials. Cassie watched the clock, praying she could get away. Ben would think … well, she didn’t know what Ben would think, but if she didn’t get to see him soon, she was going to lose what little she had left of her mind.

Her father tapped on the pocket door. “May I enter?” He’d taken to asking that question to every closed door in the house after once inadvertently walking in on a wedding dress fitting and being promptly shooed out.

“Come in, Papa,” Millie sang out. She hopped up from her chair as he entered, and held a silk flower boutonniere up to his lapel. “What do you think?”

Without looking, he said, “It’s beautiful, just like you.”

She scrunched up her face and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, even if you are a silly goose.”

“Actually, I came to talk to Cassie if you can possibly turn her loose for a moment or two.”

Millie sighed and plopped back into her chair. “You might as well take her. She’s mooning around here like a lovesick calf as it is. I’m not getting any work out of her.”

Cassie straightened. “I am not mooning.”

Father’s eyebrow rose. “Well, if you’re not, a certain sheriff, who is waiting on the front porch certainly is. We’ve had us quite a talk, and I told him I’d be most glad to have you taken off my hands if he was brave enough to offer for you. Should I shoo him away?”

She barely heard the last part as she raced through the house scattering flowers and ribbon and pins behind her. Hitting the door at a near run, she all but fell onto the porch.

There he was, unshaven, trail-worn, and the most handsome man she’d ever seen. An attack of sudden shyness, now that she stood on the precipice of all she’d dreamed and hoped for, engulfed her, and gaucheness clogged her brain. Though perishing to speak with him all day, now she couldn’t think of a thing to say.

He didn’t speak either, just opened his arms, a smile splitting his face. With a grin and a glad little hop, she rushed into them. Laughter bubbled up, sheer joy at being where she’d longed to be for so long, not just in his arms but in his heart.

Ben hugged her tight, rocking her a little as they both laughed. When his embrace eased, she leaned back on his arm to study his face.

He brushed back a lock of her hair. “Say, I was looking for the schoolteacher, a grown-up lady, and here I find you, a giggling girl.” With a tilt of his head, he regarded her. “Seen the grown-up anywhere?”