by West, Everly
“Banana pudding.” Hannah replied immediately, not needing any prodding. “It always reminds me of my mother. She made the best.”
“Where’d you grow up?”
She squinted her eyes at him. “That’s not fair. I already know you grew up in Laramie. Why should I have to answer?”
“Because I asked.” He tapped his finger against the table. “What’s wrong, sweetness? You don’t want to play anymore?”
Sweetness, her left foot. If he only knew. She rolled her gaze upward. “On a farm outside of Golden, Colorado.”
Lie: She really grew up in a log cabin tuck away in the Medicine Bow Mountains. Isolated yet still easy access for relieving stagecoaches or wary travelers of their gold. She’d never stepped foot in Colorado.
After nabbing her mouth with her napkin, she asked, “Why law-enforcement. Why not a butcher, baker or a candlestick maker?”
Nathan chuckled as he placed his knife and fork over his finished meal. “I see you’ve figured out a way for me to answer a question without you having to.”
Hannah perched her elbow on the table beside her empty place then rested her chin in the palm of hand. “Payback.”
“Did you just bat your eyes at me?”
“Maybe. Now answer the question.”
Sighing, he said, “Being raised in an orphanage is not easy. By the time I was ten I was headed in the wrong direct. The Sheriff caught me shoplifting candy, snatched me up and put me in jail.”
She gasped. “He put a ten-year old in jail?”
Nathan grinned, obviously amused at her outrage. “He kept me locked up for two hours. It seemed like forever. Before he released me, he made me promise to come back every day for a month to work off my fine.
“It was a turning point in my life.” He fiddled with his napkin. “That’s when I realized the intent of the law. Stealing candy or stealing gold, is still stealing.”
“Black or white?” she asked, hoping he didn’t hear the panic in her voice. “No shades of gray?”
“None.”
Hannah inwardly blanched. If he ever found out about her past, he’d throw her in a hole so deep they’d have to pump daylight to her. She wanted to run—fast and far, but she’d already made a commitment to Gunner. And Nathan knew it. If she disappeared now, he might come after her.
“It’s getting late and I know you days start early.” Nathan rose, tossed some bills on the table and stepped over to help her with her chair.
Once outside, they turned toward Olsen’s Café and her upstairs apartment. The night’s stillness shrouded around them, giving her a sense of intimacy.
Hannah gazed up at him, noting his square jaw, lake-blue eyes and blond waves teasing the collar of his shirt. He was gorgeous. A tremor of heat rippled over her. “Have you ever been in love?”
His bark of laughter drew the attention of an older couple strolling across the street at a leisurely pace. “Now, who’s going for the throat?”
Glad they’d returned to the light-hearted tit-for-tat exchange between them, she grinned, “Answer the question, lawman.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “We still playing the game?”
She shrugged her shoulder. “Sure, unless you’re willing to answer for free.”
“No way. Getting information out of you is like pulling teeth. I need all the help I can get.”
“Fine, but you first. I asked the question.”
Nathan patted her hand curled through the crook of his elbow. “No, I’ve never been in love. I’ve never found a woman that would put up with me long enough to fall in love.”
“I figured as much,” she said as they started up the outside stairs leading up to her rooms.
When they reached the top, she dug her key out of her purse and handed it to Nathan. He unlocked her door then stepped back and returned the key to her. “And you? Have you ever been in love?”
Hannah raised on her toes and pecked his cheek. “Dozens of times. I’m a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of girl.”
With a wink and a smile, she slipped into her apartment and shut the door.
Chapter 4
Hannah glanced up at the clock. One forty-five. Fifteen minutes until closing. Fifteen minutes until she could get off her feet for the first time since the Café opened at six this morning. Only that wasn’t the case today. Gunner’s wife, Gertie, had taken a small tumble earlier in the day and Gunner had left to check on her. Hopefully, it hadn’t set back her recovery too much.
The bell above the door announced the arrival of a new customer. Hannah spun around, wanting to wail her frustration at the person who would dare come in so close to closing.
Darn it, not one person, but a group of four middle-aged ladies moved toward the center table of the empty café.
Once they were seated, Hannah stepped to their table. “I’m sorry, ladies, Mr. Olsen has already left for the day.”
“That’s all right,” a woman dressed in green said. “We’re just here for a lemonade and somewhere to sit and talk.”
“Do you still have any of Mr. Olsen’s cookies,” a woman in pink asked. “He makes the best cookies in town with the exception of Bennett’s Bakery.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Hannah replied, hoping their “sit and talk” wouldn’t last too long. “Oatmeal cookies.”
“Wonderful,” The woman in green spoke for the second time. “We’ll have four glasses of lemonade and a plate of cookies.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Hannah mumbled as she turned toward the kitchen still irritated at the late-comers. She hoped to get most of the clean-up done before two o’clock when she could lock the door.
When she returned to the dining room with the cookies and lemonade, she heard one of the ladies say, “The Laramie Orphanage is going to have to close if they can’t find a sponsor soon.”
A pang of remorse shot through Hannah. What would happen to the children if it closed? Her hands shook as she served the lemonade to the women.
“The Ladies Club could organize a bake sale or BBQ to raise money for the orphanage but that wouldn’t solve the problem. They need a long-term backer,” A woman in yellow said as Hannah placed the plate of cookies in the center of the table.
Ladies Club of Laramie? The infamous meddling matchmakers?
“Wouldn’t it be poetic justice if Bart Leachman had to provide the necessary moneys to keep the orphanage afloat? His mine is a deathtrap. Over half those children in the orphanage are there because of the Leachman Mine either directly or indirectly.”
Leachman Mine? Hadn’t she heard about an accident at the Leachman Mine the other day? Something about a man breaking his leg?
“If you need anything else, I’ll be right over there,” Hannah offered as she nodded toward the pot-bellied stove and the shelves holding cups, buckets of silverware and napkins.
They nodded and resumed their conversation.
The woman in periwinkle blue laughed. “We’d have better odds getting Robin Hood to rescue Henrietta Brand and her orphans than waiting for Leachman to pony up the funds.”
“I suggest we bring this issue to the attention of the Ladies Club at our next meet.” The woman in green placed a bill on the table and stood. “I’m sorry, ladies, I have a few errands to run before returning home.”
With a chorus of agreement, the other women stood and followed their leader out the door.
After a polite pause, she moved to the door, flipped the sign to “Closed” and locked up. As she gathered the glasses and empty cookie plate, one thought kept running through her mind.
Those poor children.
* * *
Nathan stood at the Café’s screened backdoor and watched Hannah absently wash the same plate for a solid five minutes. Her thoughts must be a hundred miles off—or maybe just a few feet away. Maybe she was remembering the time they enjoyed together last night? Those memories had certainly kept him wake until long into the night.
“Hannah,” he called, announcing his presence.
/> She spun around, almost dropping the sparkling, clean plate. “Nathan! You scared me to death.”
“I’m sorry,” he said as he stepped into the kitchen. “I just heard about Gertie’s mishap this morning and came by to check with Gunner on her welfare.”
Hannah ran the well-scrubbed plate through the rinse water then handed him both the plate and a cup towel. “Edith’s note arrived during the lunch rush. It said Gertie had fallen, but was all right and no need for him to come home.”
She handed another clean plate to dry just as he’d place the first one on the shelf. “Gunner was upset, so I told him I’d clean up and for him to go home early. He left as soon as the last lunch crowd left.”
“You seemed lost in your thoughts when I walked up earlier,” he said, putting the last of the dishes away. “Thinking of me?”
“I wouldn’t put any big money on that,” Hannah teased, drying her hands on her apron then leaned her hips against the counter.
He stepped closer. “You want to put your money where your mouth is?”
“My mouth?”
“That was a pitiful kiss for a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of girl.” He inched closer.
“T-that was a joke.”
“I know.” He rested his palm on her waist. “It was still a pitiful kiss.”
Her eyes darkened from whiskey to chocolate brown. Was that desire? Or an invitation?
“You think you can do better?”
Yep, definitely an invitation, he thought as he lowered his lips to hers.
He ran the tip of his tongue across the seam of her lips. When she granted him entry, he plunged his tongue into her sweet mouth. Smoldering need coursed through his veins. God, what was it about this woman that affected him so?
She moaned and melted against him. His arms ached to hold her tighter, but he knew better. Too soon, too public. With a herculean effort, he lifted his mouth from hers and stepped back. “How was that?”
Her face flushed, her lips slightly swollen from his kiss, she quirked, “Well, I suppose I can’t call it pitiful.”
“Glad to hear it,” he laughed and placed a chaste kiss against her forehead. “Since we’re getting to know each other so well, I’m ready for you to fill in some blanks of your past.”
He felt her tense.
She stepped farther away from him and turned to scrub a frying pan. “There’s nothing so important about me or my past. Can’t you just leave it at that?”
“No, I can’t.”
Hannah spun around with a half-washed skittle in her hand. She stomped her foot and snapped, “Why do you have to be so bull-headed?”
“Why do you have to be so secretive?” he yelled back. Frustrated anger ripped at his common sense. “The way you guard your past is blasted suspicious.”
“I have nothing to hide,” she shouted.
“Then why would you tell me?” he shouted even louder.
“Because it’s done of your business!”
“How can you kiss me like you did just now and say that?” he roared, unable to stop himself.
“It was a lapse in judgement. Trust me, it won’t happen again.” She slammed the cast-iron pan on the work table, planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Now, get out!”
“My pleasure,” Nathan sneered. When he reached the door, he glanced over his shoulder. Already regretting the way he’d handled the situation. “I’ll see later—after you cool off.”
“Not if I see you first, lawman.”
* * *
Hours later, Hannah paced back and forth across her small setting room. Why had she ridden out to the orphanage this afternoon? Why hadn’t she believed the Ladies Club’s women when they’d talked about the orphanage’s needs?
But, no. She had to see it for herself. Now she couldn’t get the vision of those hungry children out of her mind. And there were so many more than she expected. More than a meager Bake Sale or BBQ could feed. Those wouldn’t raise enough money to feed them for a month, much less through the coming Wyoming winter. They needed stacks and stacks of cash—or maybe just a river of gold.
Gold?
Hadn’t one of the ladies said Leachman Mine carried most of the blame for the over-crowded home. So, it was only right that Leachman shoulder most of the financial burden as well. Not that Hannah expected the mine owner to willingly donate to the orphanage. According town gossip, the man was a misery ten times over.
She thought about the Shadow’s mask pasted behind her dresser mirror. Maybe Leachman could be persuaded?
But could she take the risk of resurrecting the Shadow? Now that she’s experienced an honest, guilt-free life, she didn’t want to return to her past ways.
But those poor children.
Still, it would be too dangerous. She didn’t know the lay of the land around Laramie, not to mention the Sheriff’s mule-headed persistence to know her secrets.
Maybe the Shadow’s presence would only have to be temporary. Maybe the Shadow would just stick around long enough to convince Leachman to become the orphanage’s long-term benefactor.
Maybe Hannah could keep the Sheriff’s attention on her and not the Shadow until after the Shadow had come and gone—again.
Hannah plopped onto a thread-bared settee and groaned. Darn it, now she had to eat crow.
Chapter 5
At three o’clock the next day, Hannah still hadn’t seen Nathan. Just as well, she needed to sneak out of town and do some snooping around. She saddled up Ginger and walked her out of the Livery stable. Once outside she searched for a stump to help her mount. Suddenly, big hands wrapped around her waist and lifted her into the saddle.
Startled, she squealed.
Nathan’s deep, baritone voice boomed behind her. “Where you headed?”
No way was she going to tell him she was headed out to scout the Leachman mine before robbing it tonight. “Going for a ride. Ginger’s been at the Livery all week and needs some exercise.”
After an uncomfortable pause, Hannah said, “Nathan, about yesterday.”
He raised his hand to wave off her words. “Don’t worry about it, Hannah. I was out of line. Your business is your business and I had no right to meddle. When you get ready to share, I’ll be here.”
She laid her hand over his where it rested against her saddled and smiled. “Thank you, lawman.”
“Wish I could go with you, but my deputy is off today, so I’ve got to stick around.”
“Oh well, maybe next time,” Hannah offered, grateful she didn’t have to postpone her task because of a tag-a-long peacekeeper. She gently nudged Ginger into a slow walk.
“Don’t get lost,” Nathan called after her.
“I won’t.” She waved as she put distance between him and her before he could change his mind. “I’m not going far.”
At the edge of town, she passed the orphanage nestled at the foot of a hill. Once she was sure she was out of sight of any prying eyes, she turned toward the mine. Aware the Shadow wouldn’t dare travel on a well-used road, she veered off and picked her way through the thick trees that ran parallel with the pathway.
Five minutes into her ride, she spotted a cabin deeper in the woods that looked as though the undergrowth had almost swallowed it whole. She headed toward it, hoping she’d found a refuge where she could change into the Shadow’s garb. Sure enough, the cabin was empty and obviously abandoned for years. Part one of her plan was in place.
She rode another fifteen minutes before catching sight of the Leachman Gold mine. After she tied Ginger to a low-hanging branch, she hunkered down and duck-walked the last twenty yards through the thicket to a ridge overlooking the mine site.
There were two shacks positioned in the clearing in front of the mine. A set of rails disappeared into the mouth of the mine. A man went in the shack on the left and within minutes came out carrying a pick-axe. Tool shed, Hannah thought. Does that mean Leachman keeps the gold in the other shack or is that for something else?
As sh
e watched, four men pushed a mining cart out of the tunnel and into the daylight. Gold glittered in the sunshine. They filled two bags with the gold then carried them into the other shack.
There’s gold in that there shack! She thought, then giggled at her twist on the famous forty-niners’ catchphrase.
Hannah stayed in place another hour before returning to Ginger. During her time perched on the ridge, she hadn’t seen any notable security. But she’d bet a dollar to a donut there’d be a guard or two once the sun went down.
Guess she’d find out later tonight.
* * *
Around midnight, Hannah, aka the Shadow, crept back to the ridge overlooking the mine. As she watched, she realized the mine ran twenty-four hours a day. That was going to make things a little more difficult than she’d planned, but was still workable.
A guard sit in front of the window of the main shack, his profile backlit by a lantern. Darn it, she’d never hurt anyone during her previous jobs, but she might have to this time. Time was ticking away and she needed get in, get the gold and get back to Laramie.
Just as she’d built up enough nerve to disable the guard, he rose from his seat and headed for the outhouse. She hustled down the hill, hoping her black clothes blended into the shadows. Once she made it to the shack, she glanced around to ensure no one was coming her way.
She eased the door open then silently closed it behind her. A large bag sat on the counter beside a set of scales. Deftly, she pulled a canvas bag from beneath her black shirt and filled it with half of the gold ore in front of her.
With a quick glance around the room, she spotted a plain, black hat on a peg beside the door. Ah ha, she thought. A bonus gift from Mr. Bart Leachman. She put the hat on, thankful for a replacement for the Shadow’s missing black hat.
No man in his right mind went anywhere without his hat.
Hannah inwardly laughed at how easily the world believed the Shadow was a man. With a mental shrug of a shoulder, she stuffed her scarf covered hair into the hat, settled her mask into place and reached for the door handle.
