The Trailrider's Fortune (40 page)

"He should be
home soon. Please come in."

Rafe perched on the
edge of the settee, vividly aware of his other disastrous visit to this same
parlor. "Sparkle told me that he got fixed up at the hospital and he's
walkin' now. That's great. You must be real pleased to have him up and
about."

"Yes. He's
doing so well, he works a few hours each afternoon at the library. Would you
like a cup of tea while you wait?"

"That would be
fine, ma'am." They moved to the dining room. Rafe politely sat drinking
tea while Majesta struggled to make small talk. Thankfully, Jace came in the
front door just as she was about to pour a second cup. He walked without the
aid of a crutch or cane, Rafe saw, but not smoothly yet.

"Good seein'
you again, Jace," Rafe said as the man entered the parlor.

Jace moved forward,
slowly extending his right hand, but looked uncertain. "You remember Mr.
Conley, Jace," Majesta encouraged. "Sparkle brought him to visit us
once before. He'd been courting her before your accident. They met in Wichita and
he's from Colorado."

"You're the
one who decided against marrying my sister." Jace pulled his hand back
before Rafe could shake.

"
Is
she?" Rafe inquired. "She told me you're not actually kin. Said your
ma just took her in years ago."

The other man shook
his head and hesitated. "Forgive me. I still get a little muddled at
times. No, we're not blood. That's true, but I think of Sparkle as an adopted
sister." Jace lowered himself into a nearby chair, blue eyes riveted on
Rafe. "I must say, I'm very surprised to see you."

"I know, and
as I told your wife, I'm sorry for my rudeness before. Never said goodbye. You
folks were right kind and polite, but Sparkle and I had—"

"A falling
out. She was most distressed. She and I had our disagreements, as well, and
she's not staying with us any longer. She promised to write, but I haven't
heard from her."

Majesta spoke up
again. "He says she's at his ranch."

Rafe ran a hand
over his freshly barbered hair and toyed with the hat brim in his hands.
"She's been stayin' with me and my brother in Colorado. The housekeeper
and ranch foreman are playin' chaperone. She came to look me up when she left
here."

This was met with
stilted silence from both LaFleurs. Rafe went on. "The long and short of
it is this. I mistook her feelin's. The wrong things were said, and we had
to…well, maybe it took some time apart before we each had settled down enough
that we could get together and talk about it." His color deepened.
"You know how things can be between folks."

"I know it's
not easy to get to the heart of the matter with Sparkle," Jace agreed.

"We're
getting' married," Rafe informed him, looking him dead in the eye. If Jace
was going to balk at the notion, here was his chance.

"I thought as
much," his wife nodded with a smug expression. She glanced over at her
husband.

He took the news
calmly.

"That's why
I've come here," Rafe said. "I want things straight between us, too,
Jace. We'll be like brothers-in-law or somethin'. Got me a brother-in-law
already and we get on just fine. I reckon it won't be quite the same, but I'd
like us to get along. Don't reckon we can unless I straighten out a few things
with you."

"Well,
Sparkle's a grown woman. She may have told you that we had differing views on
several topics, but if she's decided to wed you, I have no objection."

"She didn't
want you to know the truth." Rafe looked Jace squarely in the eye without
flinching. "I told you I was partners in my brother's spread. That ain't
so. The fact is, I been hirin' out as a freelance gun for a long while. I only
stay at my brother's place for the winters. I met Sparkle at a saloon where she
worked. She wasn't never a schoolmarm."

"Majesta and I
discovered that," Jace answered dryly, with a meaningful look over at his
wife. Rafe could see he clearly didn't appreciate folks keeping things from
him. Not that Rafe blamed him one bit.

He took a deep
breath. "She wants me to hang up my gun. Before I do, I'd like some
answers from you. You were involved in the money from Texas."

"Yes, and…?
What do you need to know?"

"Where exactly
did she get thousands in stolen cash, and whether she put herself in danger to
get it. I've followed too many outlaw trails myself to accept that one's stone
cold, no matter how long the loot was buried. Anyone likely to come lookin' for
either of you, specifically for my bride as soon as the preacher leaves?"

Jace vehemently
shook his head. "It was in the cemetery outside a small town. No one
around there knows there's any connection between a Mr. J. LaFleur of Kansas
City and a boy named Jace Flowers, believed to have died a decade ago. The
money was hidden by an outlaw named McAllister. He died the night he buried it.
I don't know what happened to his other partners, but since the box was still
there, rusty and untouched, I assume they've either died or been sent to
prison. No one will come looking for Sparkle."

"Wilmont's
dead," Rafe informed him. "He was my uncle; rode with Slade for a
time. Frank Jackson's the last member of the gang unaccounted for. Authorities
say he went up to Canada." At Jace's look of surprise, Rafe explained.
"In my line of work and with Wilmont bein' kin, I keep up on things. Know
all about Slade's men."

"How
odd," Jace said to his wife. "Tom Wilmont's nephew taking up with our
Sparkle."

"Yeah. Small
world."

Now Jace spread his
hands and looked earnestly at Rafe. "I felt she was owed the bulk of the
money. She worked in hellholes to support me. She was corrupted by it, perhaps
not all that surprising. But it's still hard to accept that she became little
more than a harlot. I'm glad you're making an honest woman of her."

Rafe scowled.
"That's another thing that needs clearin' up. Sparkle was untouched when I
met her. No fella ever bought her—not even me. I'm the only one to ever lay a
hand on her. And I've always been a rowdy, incorrigible. My big sister's spent
years tellin' me I'm nothin' but wild, my life misspent…so it's
my
fault
if Sparkle's virtue got a bit tarnished. Ain't no call to think badly of
her."

Majesta spoke up
quietly. "I told you she loved him, Jace."

"And it ain't
right to think she's not an 'honest woman,' even though I know how you meant
that. Sparkle's the first gal who ever treated me with genuine kindness."
Rafe couldn't believe he was about to volunteer the next bit of information,
but it was pertinent. "I've got a big, gruesome scar takin' up most of my
chest. She understood I was touchy about it. A lot of women didn't take to me
cause of that scar. It's pretty much impossible to overlook. Sparkle's the
first who ever saw me as a man—not a scar. And not just a Colt with a
holster."

Jace and Majesta
exchanged looks so open and powerful, Rafe was embarrassed to have witnessed
the flow of emotion between them. "I can appreciate your feelings,"
Jace said quietly.

Suddenly Rafe was
awash in powerful feelings, too. "I love Sparkle. She's everything to me.
You got a problem with her marryin' me, knowin' the full truth about who I am
and what I done, I'll understand that. But I'll be much obliged if you'd
consider her side in this. I came to make peace, hopin' you'd agree to give her
away. She'd be real excited if you two came for our weddin'. Ain't set the
exact date yet, cause I want to surprise her."

He laid two train
tickets on the coffee table. "And I'd like for you to meet my kin and
spend a couple days at the ranch."

There was a moment
of silence. Rafe could only wait and question his own sanity in making this
trip. Then Jace awkwardly got to his feet. "How could I have a problem
with any man who'd do this for my sister? It took real courage to come
here." This time he didn't look to Majesta before speaking for both of
them. "We'd be honored, and I'll most certainly give Sparkle away during
the ceremony. Good luck, Conley."

"Rafe,"
he corrected. "I'll send a wire with the details. Like I said, I'm in your
debt." He paused by the front door. "By the way, what was your
surgeon's name again? Sparkle mentioned it. Maybe he can do somethin' about my
scar."

"Kent Barlow.
He works at the hospital just a few blocks from here."

* * *

The man who strode
into the examining room was young, immaculate from head to toe, of pallid
complexion, and all business. "Good day, sir. You were referred by Jace
LaFleur, it says here. How's he doing these days?"

"Visited the
house yesterday, "Rafe answered in what he hoped sounded friendly and
calm. "He's gettin' around fine, even works a few hours a week at the
library over yonder. Last time I was in town, he was in a wheelchair. Heard you
worked wonders for him, Doc. Maybe you can help me. Got this big scar from an
old injury. So plug ugly, womenfolk can't hardly abide me with my shirt off.
Makes courtin' tough."

"I see."
The doctor focused on Rafe's torso where he'd unbuttoned his shirt, studying
the scar tissue with both his eyes and fingertips. "That's quite a nasty
keloid. Must have been a serious injury…possibly life threatening. A horrific
accident of some kind?"

"Yep. I
accidentally walked into a knife about yea long." Rafe held his palms in
mid-air, almost a foot apart.

Dr. Barlow frowned
and probed the raised weal again. "Does it give you pain? Any tenderness
or itch?"

"Sometimes I
can't feel a thing. Other times it's real sensitive. Like now." Rafe
winced at the continued prodding. "Been like this nigh on six years."
Ignoring a transitory pang of guilt for his deception, Rafe let the words flow
off his tongue. "I never thought anythin' could be done about it, but
Sparkle reckoned maybe you could help, since you're such a skilled
cutter."

Rafe took perverse
delight in the instantaneous reaction and hooded misery in the doctor's eyes.
There weren't many women named Sparkle—certainly no bumper crop all living in
Kansas. He and Dr. Barlow were in love with the same gal. Rafe recognized the
anguished look of a man trying to forget her; his own face had worn it for
months.

"I'm afraid she's
overconfident in my ability," Dr. Barlow concluded. "There's no
reason to tamper with this. A surgical repair would be costly, require you to
recuperate all over again, and may not result in any measurable improvement.
Your skin tends to build thick, almost excessive scar tissue."

Now the doctor
tugged Rafe's shirt completely off and examine his newer scars. "Some
people have this problem. I realize they're unattractive, but I'm afraid I
can't help. Another cut, another scar results from it. These look to be from
firearms." He cocked his brow at Rafe. "Perhaps a different avocation
might be the best way to avoid more scars in your future?"

Rafe sighed.
"Well, reckon you know best. Appreciate your time, Doc." He paid the
physician, who turned back at the doorway.

"Did you
happen to also see Sparkle when you visited the house?"

"Nope,"
Rafe replied casually. "She doesn't live here now. She's set to marry a
fella out in Colorado. Lucky man, ain't he? She's one pretty little gal."

"Indeed she
was."

Rafe's heart
soared.
Was
! The doctor's reaction proved everything. Sparkle had jilted
this city dandy—not a bad lookin' fella at that—in favor of Rafe Conley, who
now dressed and returned to his hotel room. Later that night, as he lay in the
hotel bed trying to relax enough to sleep, he thought about the full
ramifications of what she'd done.

She'd chosen him,
even after he'd abandoned her, cursed at her, nearly shot her. A girl who could
have her pick of suitors…she'd finally left the rowdy trailheads behind and had
a decent life in the city. He thought of how he'd defended her to Jace, and
mentally acknowledged every word of that had been the truth. Sparkle had always
been a good friend to him, even when Rafe didn't deserve it. She'd come after
him, fought for him, all the while he'd been shunning her. She hung in there
until Rafe relented and they'd talked things out.

Yes, they were
together now, with a bright future in front of them. But that was mainly
Sparkle's doing. What had Rafe ever done to warrant her devotion?

Sheltering Sparkle
from the first, getting her job back, trying to soften the world around her
with the protection of a bogus ring. Keeping his word not to lay a hand on her
until she'd wanted it. Going easy on her that first time, making sure she had
protection. Making peace with Jace. Being a gentleman on those few occasions
wasn't enough to tip the scales. There were so many things on the other side…

So many unkind,
cold things:  Sam's death, Sparkle losing her job through her association with
Rafe. Slocumb and Nestor and others going to early graves—and some who went to
them without Rafe even knowing their names. He'd sent men to rot in prison,
used women like Big Al, helped to put that half-dead look in their eyes. Helped
make the Benton Frazers of the world the well-heeled assholes they were.