On the Edge of Forever

by Cat Cahill

  Maybe being Edie Wright wasn’t too far out of the realm of possibility after all.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Days passed in a flurry of meeting new people, talking with those James had already met, helping Hartley with his house, and catching fleeting moments with Edie at the hotel restaurant. After having nearly been caught by Edie’s red-haired friend, James didn’t dare try to catch her alone again. It was no use getting her into trouble with the hotel, and he’d never forgive himself if he ruined her reputation. Besides, he needed to busy himself with his work. Now that he knew she felt the same way about him, there would be plenty of time to court her when she was free of her contract.

  If only it weren’t so hard to wait.

  It didn’t matter what he did, she was always in his thoughts. She was the first person he searched for when he entered a room, and the first image in his head when he woke in the morning. At this rate, he didn’t know how he’d last the four months or so before her contract ended.

  He’d just finished helping Hartley for the day and was making his way slowly back to the hotel when the depot clerk’s young helper came running down the tracks as if the devil himself were chasing the boy.

  “Deputy Wright!” Christopher shouted.

  “Have I another telegram?” James hadn’t received news from Sheriff Young in a few days. While he supposed no news was good news, he was on the verge of telegraphing his boss himself to find out for certain.

  “No, sir.” The boy stopped and fell into step next to James. “There’s a fella at the depot. He just rode in from a ranch, looking for you.”

  “Did he give a name?” James knew some of the valley’s ranchers, from when they’d come up to Cañon City for goods or to deliver cattle to the rail yard.

  “No, sir. He’s waiting for you.”

  “Then let’s go see what he wants.” It couldn’t be good, if it caused the man to ride all the way here.

  A tall dark-haired man waited near a horse outside the depot. Christopher ran ahead and offered to take the man’s horse up to the hotel’s stables. The man declined and then looked toward James.

  James held out a hand. “James Wright. I hear you’re looking for me?”

  The man shook his hand. He had an intense and serious manner about him, one that indicated he had no patience for anything that stood in his way. “Isaac Trenton. I own the Aspen Ridge ranch up north of here. I had some horses stolen last night. Five to be exact. I attempted to follow the trail, but they were careful. From what I could tell, they headed southeast.”

  “Toward the camp,” James said, thinking out loud.

  “I can protect my own,” Trenton said, looking off into the distance. “But I thought you might know who it was.”

  James rubbed a hand over the short beard that now covered his chin. “I have a few ideas. I’ll ride out there and see what I find.”

  Trenton thanked him and rode off. Before James made his way up to the hotel to gather what he needed, he sent Ben a telegram. It was possible the thieves had changed direction and headed north to Cañon City. And if they had, it would be a lot harder to track down Trenton’s horses in a town of that size.

  Telegram sent, he moved quickly back up to the hotel to gather supplies for the ride, a set of the wanted posters to give to Marshal Tate that he should have brought on his last ride to the camp, and another borrowed horse. He was halfway down the hill from the hotel when he realized he needed to eat. Working through meals sometimes brought on the headaches, and that was the last thing he could afford to deal with right now. He should’ve brewed some of the tea Edie had given him as a precaution before he left, but he didn’t want to spare the time. Instead of returning to the hotel, he tied up his horse outside the mercantile. Mrs. Drexel usually had some sort of baked good to sell. That would do to tide him over and keep the headaches at bay.

  Inside, the little store was a flurry of activity. A couple of men James recognized from building crews were at the counter, another rancher was talking with Mr. Drexel about seed, and a handful of girls in gray and white dresses perused the items on the shelves. James had taken only a couple of steps toward the counter and the glass stand that held a mouthwatering coffee cake, when one person in particular caught his eye.

  Edie. There she was, standing alone near one of the front windows, admiring a small selection of pottery. James’s eyes flitted between her and the coffee cake. He should get going, purchase something to eat and then head out to the mining camp, but his eyes kept coming back to Edie. She’d picked up a small vessel with a little lid and smiled at it as if its mere presence in the store was enough to make her entire day. Just watching her drew a smile to James’s face. He waited until she’d set the little jar down before joining her.

  “Do you have a need for jars and . . .” He inclined his head toward the pottery, not entirely knowing what to call the selection on the shelves.

  She tilted her head up to him, and the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen crossed her face. It was as if she lit up just because he was here. It warmed him up from the inside and made him feel as if he could accomplish anything, just because this woman was happy to see him.

  “Mrs. McFarland says I might plant a small garden behind the hotel. I’ll need a few little containers like this in which to keep the herbs and plants I harvest.” She eyed his coat and the saddlebags slung over his shoulder. “You look prepared for a journey.”

  “I’m riding back out to the camp. Some horses went missing last night from a ranch nearby, and the tracks point eastward.” He shifted the saddlebags, reminded of the need to get moving.

  Edie’s eyes had gone wide at the information. “Is it . . .”

  “There’s nothing indicating it’s either of the Kansas gangs,” he said, anticipating her question. “Most likely it’s only a couple of drifters, looking to make a bit of money before they head elsewhere.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Most of those miners can’t afford horses. If the thieves went to the camp, they shouldn’t be hard to track down.”

  She smiled, but the light had gone from her eyes. James glanced about the store, but they were fairly well hidden up here at the front, behind the shelf with the pottery. He took her hand and squeezed it. “You have no need to fear.”

  Edie looked up at him. “Thank you.” She held his gaze, but he could tell she wasn’t entirely convinced. Something had her worried, distracted.

  “Listen to me.” He held her hand close and waited until her eyes locked with his. “I promise you that if the Fletchers or Beaumonts find their way to this valley, I will track them down.”

  She nodded.

  “I spent the better part of a year after the Fletchers before I left home. The last thing I want is to have them here.”

  Her head tilted, and he could see the question in her eyes, but his uncle’s death wasn’t exactly something he wanted to revisit at this moment, not in the mercantile, and not when he needed his head on straight to deal with these horse thieves. “Do you trust me?” he asked her.

  “I do,” she said, but there was still something there, some faraway doubt he couldn’t quite capture, even when she smiled at him. It was haunted, as if she were also protecting some broken part of her. Perhaps they’d touched her family too, in some way. He’d ask her later, when they had more time to talk. But now, he needed to get moving.

  “I must go. I’ll see you again soon.” And, after checking to ensure no one was looking, he leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. It wasn’t enough—nothing ever was—but it had to be for now.

  Her face instantly colored and a hand drifted up to where he’d kissed her. She gave him a shy smile, and with that lovely picture in his mind, he purchased a couple slices of coffee cake, left the store, and turned his horse eastward.

  Images of Edie danced through his mind while he rode, so much so that he had to force them away. He needed to keep his attention on his surroundings, else he might find himself taken by surprise. But as h
er sweet voice and the endearing way she’d blushed when he kissed her entered his mind again and again, drawing his focus away from the reason he was out here at all, the old fears returned.

  Was she too much of a distraction? He couldn’t afford to ride into the camp with his mind wandering in such a way.

  No, she wasn’t, he was certain of that. How could something that felt so right be nothing but a distraction? Except, it seemed impossible for him to remain focused on work. And in his line of work, that could be deadly.

  But somehow Ben had succeeded in having a wife. A lot of lawmen did. And yet his uncle had died because of a woman.

  No, he hadn’t died because he’d fallen in love. It happened because Uncle Mark had fallen for the wrong woman, and she’d turned his head from any instinct he might have felt that something wasn’t right. James’s situation wasn’t the same, not at all. Edie was a good, honest woman.

  So long as he kept his wits about him while he was working, this would all turn out exactly as he wished.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Edie hung back as Beatrice and Sarah left the store. They waited for her just outside, and she couldn’t remain here forever, despite how much James’s news had unnerved her. So she pulled in a deep breath, told herself she was being overly cautious, and exited.

  Thankfully, her friends were too busy discussing Sarah’s purchases to notice anything about Edie. She remained behind them as they picked their way around the mud that had been churned up along the makeshift road. She found herself searching every person they passed for a familiar face. By the time they crossed the tracks, the sense of dread that had settled into her stomach back at the store had lightened only a little.

  Stealing horses was her family’s quickest way to make money in between bigger jobs. If they’d run low on flour or one of the boys needed new shoes and it had been a while since the last job, Pa and Cousin Nick would filch a horse or two. And worst of all, Edie never realized it was such a terrible thing until she was nearly grown. The memory made her cheeks color now, even though she knew it wasn’t her fault. It was impossible to understand right from wrong when your family made all their wrongs seem right.

  But now she knew. And she would never go back to that sort of life.

  “You’re awfully quiet. Are you all right?” Sarah asked as they passed the depot.

  Edie tried her best to give her friends a reassuring smile. “It’s nothing. Only lost in thought.”

  Beatrice shot Sarah a knowing grin. Normally, Edie would have insisted her thoughts had nothing to do with James, but she was far too preoccupied now. It was a wonder that every girl in the hotel seemed to know of James’s fondness for her, and yet managed to keep it secret from Mrs. Ruby.

  When her friends returned to their conversation, Edie’s mind fell to James and his ride out to the camp. She shuddered at the thought of that place. It was, however, the perfect location for her family to hide in plain sight. And if they were desperate for cash, a good place to sell off some horses for cheap. What if James found them?

  It was as if the sun had disappeared entirely. A chill crept through her body, and Edie hugged her arms to herself tightly. As much as she wanted nothing to do with them again, the idea of Pa or Nick or Ty or any of her other brothers awaiting a noose from inside a cell made her feel sick. And what would happen if James cornered them? They wouldn’t go easily. Her family avoided bloodshed, but they wouldn’t shy from it if there was no other way out.

  She wanted to drop down onto her knees right there on the sage-covered hill that led up to the hotel and pray as if she’d never prayed before. But she couldn’t, not right now, not without her friends thinking she’d lost her mind. So she settled for repeating a fervent prayer in her head, over and over. James could not find her family. It wouldn’t end well for either side.

  When they reached the kitchen door on the side of the hotel, Edie pled enjoyment of the fresh air to remain outside a few moments longer. Beatrice gave her a concerned look, but Edie smiled at her, and finally, her roommate followed Sarah inside. Edie returned to the front corner of the hotel and leaned against the wooden wall, the beginnings of the town spread out before her just down the hill.

  It might not be her family at all. It could be the Fletchers. It could be some wayward horse thieves. Oh, how she hoped it was the latter. But if it wasn’t . . .

  Edie steadied her breathing as she watched the men moving and fro on each side of the tracks, raising wood, cutting logs, hammering. New men arrived and left each day. At least inside the hotel, she only saw those who could afford a meal or lodging for the night. Down the hill . . . anyone might see her.

  She could keep to the hotel. With her false surname, she was hidden here. None of her family would ever venture inside.

  Unless they already knew she was here.

  Although even as that thought crossed her mind, Edie frowned. The worry was always there, and thanks to Mr. Adkins, it would likely never go away.

  Could she live like this for the rest of her life?

  Did she have a choice?

  She didn’t know, but the alternative would mean leaving Crest Stone, the only place she’d ever felt as if she truly belonged. It would mean leaving James.

  No, she’d remain. She would be smart and stay near the hotel, keeping vigilant watch. And if her family knew she was here, surely she’d hear about them arriving in the town below before they got to the hotel. She’d have time to figure something out.

  And she’d continue praying that James wouldn’t meet up with Pa or Nick or her brothers. Because if anything happened to him at their hands, she would never forgive herself.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Tall, you said, but fair?” James rubbed at his chin. He was getting nowhere with these people.

  “And one of them had a scarred-up face,” the miner added, his friend nodding vigorously in agreement. They’d already pocketed the money James had given them to buy the two horses back.

  “One looked like a kid,” the friend said.

  Considering the other two men who’d bought the stolen horses had described “a bunch of old men” and “maybe an Indian,” James didn’t think he was any closer at all to identifying the thieves. The men were likely long gone from the camp by this point, anyhow.

  James thanked them and led the horses through the growing darkness to the livery, where the three other stolen animals had already been turned out in the corral. He’d send word to Mr. Trenton to come get them as soon as he returned to Crest Stone. He paid the only slightly more sober Mr. Ayers for their care, and saddled his own borrowed horse to return to the hotel.

  On his way out, he spoke with the camp marshal again to relay what he’d learned and give him a set of the wanted posters. The man had only been too happy to have James do his work for him in tracking down the stolen horses, and didn’t seem too inclined to care much about the goings on outside his camp.

  James rode out just as the night was beginning, and he was happy to leave the place in his dust. He only hoped the livery owner could be trusted not to sell off Trenton’s horses a second time before the man could arrive to claim them.

  He pulled the last bit of coffee cake from his saddlebags and polished it off as he rode. What he’d do for some homemade cake on a regular basis. The little place in Cañon City where he usually ate had decent meals, but didn’t do much in the way of baking. He wondered if Edie cared for baking. It didn’t much matter if she did, but if he were being honest, he hoped she enjoyed it.

  A horse nickered from somewhere behind him.

  James stiffened. How had he—

  A shot rang out.

  His horse reared up. Unprepared, James flew from the saddle, landing hard on his left side. Another shot cracked the night around him. He reached for one of his pistols and stayed low to the ground, searching the shadows around him for anything that might indicate who was shooting at him.

  The crescent moon barely provided any light, and he couldn’t
see very far past his immediate surroundings. His heart thudded and every sense felt magnified. It was quiet for a few moments. All he could hear was his own breath and the sounds of his horse, which—thankfully—hadn’t run very far.

  He rose slowly, turning to survey the land around him as best he could, with the revolver outstretched in front of him.

  Then, out of nowhere, a sharp pain shot through the back of his head. The last he knew, the ground was rising to meet him.

  WHEN JAMES OPENED HIS eyes, it wasn’t to see the papered walls of his room at the Crest Stone Hotel. Instead, it was to a faceful of sage and a night filled with twinkling stars. Confused for half a second, he remained where he was, and then it slowly returned. The sound of a horse, the gunshot, the strike on the back of his head.

  Common sense told him to remain still and listen, and so he did. When he heard nothing but the usual sounds of night, he lifted a hand and gingerly felt along the back of his scalp. A tender bump had already begun to swell.

  James sat up slowly. His head pounded, but in a much different way than when he was stricken with the headaches. Remarkably, whoever had come after him had left him alive. But if they hadn’t killed him, what did they want? To scare him?

  He hauled himself to his feet, his head protesting the entire way. The horse still stood nearby, chewing contentedly on some grass, seemingly unconcerned that someone had knocked his master unconscious. The beast was nothing like James’s own Tartan, who he liked to think would have at least attempted to nudge him awake. Or charged after the man who’d done this.

  He made his way toward the horse, and that was when he found what the man—or men—had been after.

  His saddlebags lay on the ground, their contents strewn across the sand and sage. He felt his pockets, only to find them turned out and the money he’d kept in one of them gone. His guns were missing too. He stood there a moment, puzzled. It had been the most natural assumption that the man who’d done this was connected somehow to the horse thieves or the Kansas gangs—if they weren’t one and the same. But perhaps all it had been was an ordinary robbery.