by Cat Cahill
He smiled at her in earnest now. “Well, now, look who wants to play.” But instead of answering her, he spoke to his son. “Tell, go rouse Jack. If he ain’t still drunk from last night, tell him he’s going to send a message to Beaumont.”
But Edie didn’t give in that easily. She rubbed her hands together until the rope began to chafe her wrists. “What are you asking my pa for?”
“That’s business between me and your pa, girl.”
“I might be able to help.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “You turned your back on your own family. How would you know what they want or don’t want these days?”
His words couldn’t have hurt more if they’d been a knife slicing into her skin. He was right. She’d done exactly that. And it was a decision she’d wrestled with for months before she actually made it. She loved her family, but she couldn’t spend the rest of her life on the run. She wanted no more part in their crimes. All she yearned for was a simple, honest existence somewhere she wouldn’t need to look over her shoulder every few minutes.
And she’d had that, at least for a while. It was everything she’d hoped for. Even now, if she was forced to return to Kansas, she’d have the memories of a real life, one with friends, meaningful work, and a man she never could have imagined knowing.
Her heart felt squeezed as she thought of James. Was he looking for her right now? Surely someone at the hotel had told him about Mr. Adkins and her transgressions last year. What did he think of her now?
Tell returned with another man staggering behind him. Whiskey Jack, Edie remembered hearing his name before. He was Virgil’s brother, or maybe his brother-in-law, if she remembered correctly. She wondered which of these men had been the one who shot James’s uncle.
“Why do I got to be the one to get a message to the Beaumonts?” he said, his voice raspy with sleep.
“’Cause I ain’t sending one of the boys,” Virgil replied.
“And he knows I’m like to shoot Jonas myself rather than relay a message,” Levi added before spitting on the ground.
Virgil rubbed a hand across his face. “Don’t take the message to him directly. Last thing we need is them thinking you’re an even exchange for the girl. Find some kid in town and pay him.”
Whiskey Jack mumbled some sort of agreement, and, with the surly look still on his face, went to saddle one of the horses. Edie watched him as she replayed the conversation in her head. Pay some kid in town. Like to shoot Jonas myself. They made it sound as if her pa wasn’t in Kansas. Her eyes widened. “My pa’s somewhere nearby?”
Levi frowned at her. “Who you think’s been making all the trouble? Ain’t been us.”
“We haven’t had no fun at all lately,” Tell said from behind Levi.
It was her family. So she and James had been right after all—they’d just missed the fact that the Fletchers had, for the first time in their lives, been quiet.
“Seems they got curious about why we crossed the state line and followed us. It’s fine by me. Easier than having to take you all the way back to Kansas with us.” Virgil turned back to the boys ringed behind him and Levi. “Tell, you’re in charge of her. Treat her good. I swear if I hear of any of you boys acting untoward to her, I’ll flay you myself.”
Tell nodded and the group began to disperse. Levi brushed past Edie and she unconsciously shrunk away from him. He gave her an unpleasant grin and moved closer. She forced herself to remain where she was. She would not give this man the satisfaction of thinking he cowed her. He reached around her for the horse’s reins, taking far longer than needed, and every terrible thing she’d ever heard about the Fletchers rose unbidden in her mind.
As Tell reached for her arm to pull her toward the fire, she wondered again which one of them had killed James’s uncle. And now here she was, letting Tell Fletcher help her sit awkwardly on the ground and accepting a cup of hot coffee from one of his brothers. Which of these boys had already committed murder? Was the one with the kind smile sitting across from her capable of such a thing? Edie shivered, even with the tin cup of coffee between her still bound hands.
“You cold, Miss Edith?” Tell asked.
She shook her head but he placed a saddle blanket around her shoulders anyway. He was acting kindly toward her now, likely because his pa had told him to. But what would happen if they didn’t get what they wanted? What if the message never reached Pa? Or worse, what if it did and he decided she was worthless to him?
She squeezed her eyes shut at the thought. It was possible, after all. She’d run off without a word. He’d be well within his rights to disown her entirely.
Or perhaps Virgil Fletcher would ask for too much, more than Pa could give. What would they do with her then?
She couldn’t swallow the coffee. A lump the size of the cave behind her seemed to have lodged in her throat. She clutched the cup between her hands, holding on to it for dear life.
She dared not to hope James might find her. If he was looking, that was. He had to be, though. Despite his feelings toward her, he was duty-bound to search for her if the McFarlands reported her missing.
Edie watched as Levi mounted his horse and left, likely returning to his hiding place down the mountain. Riding to where he’d be sure to see James if the deputy happened to come this way. He wouldn’t be so kind to James, though. It would be like walking into a trap.
Same as his uncle.
Edie squeezed the cup in her hand. It wasn’t the same, was it? She hadn’t led him here on purpose. And she . . . she loved him. Tears pushed at the backs of her eyes as she let the truth of the thought flood through her. If she could, she’d warn him away. Tell him to let this work out as it might. Tell him the truth about herself. Keep him safe, even if it meant he despised her.
But she couldn’t. She was stuck on this hard bit of ground, her hands tied, with a passel of Fletchers keeping their eyes on her every move.
There was no getting out of being Edith Beaumont. Not anymore. And now she’d pulled James into it.
He might be killed, and it would be all her fault.
Chapter Twenty-seven
It didn’t take long for James to find and prepare enough men to search for Edie, although each minute that ticked by felt like precious time lost forever. He split the group into two, sending one group north toward Cañon City while leading the second group himself eastward, toward the mining camp. As long as he focused on the search and on giving the men he rode with enough information to make them useful, he could hold off the sick, worried feeling that lurked inside him.
But the moment everything went quiet, it returned with a vengeance.
Edie was missing. He didn’t know why. And she’d kept a good bit of her recent history from him. That couldn’t be why she’d run off. It didn’t make sense, considering McFarland told him the man who’d blackmailed her was now in prison and all of it had happened months ago. Had she run off because of James? Because of the way he’d acted toward her?
He’d just seen her yesterday morning, and she hadn’t been distraught. Although, he had to admit, she had acted strangely, especially in the way she’d told him it had been nice to meet him. He’d thought it was just an awkward way of informing him he needed to keep his distance, but maybe she knew then that she’d be leaving.
Perhaps she’d already been planning to ride out.
But why? And to what destination?
He shook his head. They had to find her. He could ask her then, demand the entire story from her. But now, he needed to ensure she didn’t run into the Beaumonts first.
When they reached the mining camp, he sent one man to inform Marshal Tate of the goings on and dispatched the rest of the group to search the camp. He went directly to the livery, where he’d seen her last. Images of her slight frame wearing men’s clothes that were much too big for her flitted through his mind. She’d been so determined to find her brothers. It was a foolish thing to do, yet brave at the same time. He tried to piece that bravery togeth
er with the woman who’d stolen from the hotel. It made no sense, and he huffed in frustration.
Mr. Ayers was nowhere to be seen, so he took it upon himself to comb the entire building, inside and out. He rounded the rear of the stables, facing a line of pine trees and beyond that, the rise of the Wet Mountains—and came face-to-face with a man holding a shotgun.
James bit back words of irritation and raised his hands. He had no time for petty thieves, not now. “What do you want?”
The man was tall and lean, and somewhere around James’s age. A hat covered dull sand-colored hair, and his green eyes flicked down to the guns sitting on James’s hips. He repositioned the shotgun, holding it perfectly level. James doubted much got by this man.
“You the sheriff’s deputy? The one from Crest Stone?” the man asked.
“I am,” James said slowly. “You looking for me?”
“Might be.”
“You care to lower that shotgun, then? I’m more inclined to talk when I’m not being held at gunpoint.” James kept his eyes open for any change in the man’s movements, anything that might betray whether he’d change his mind and shoot.
“Can’t do that, sir. But I need your help.”
This was a first. “Care to at least tell me who I’m speaking with?”
“You can call me Tyrone.”
No last name, although there was something familiar about the first name. It scratched at the edge of his mind, just out of reach. “All right, Tyrone. I’m listening.”
“I hear you’re looking for a girl.”
James raised his eyebrows. “Do you know her whereabouts?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking for your help.” The man’s words were clipped. “I’d be going to get her myself.”
“You know her?” Edie had come here looking for her brothers. Perhaps this was one of them. Tyrone . . . That was where he’d heard the name before. But why the shotgun?
The man ignored James’s question. “I know who all’s got her. We just don’t know where.”
A rush of something hot rose inside James. He was too late. “And who would that be?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even.
“Virgil Fletcher and his boys.”
James bit back the words he wanted to unleash. It wasn’t the Beaumonts after all. He’d been wrong. It was the Fletchers. The thought of her being held against her will by those men made him want to run his fist into the wall—again. If any of them hurt her, so help them, he wouldn’t rest until he found each one of them and made him pay.
“I can tell you’re thinking the same thing I am,” the man said.
“What’s your concern with her?” James asked, suspecting he already knew.
“She’s my sister.”
He’d guessed correctly. “Miss Dutton came looking for her brothers a few days back.”
“Miss Dutton?” The man screwed up his face in confusion. “I’m looking for Edith Beaumont.”
“Edith . . . Edie . . .” James didn’t finish the name. It was as if all the wind had been knocked out of him.
It couldn’t be. It was impossible.
And yet, at the same time, it made so much sense.
Chapter Twenty-eight
“It’s time.” Virgil Fletcher kicked at the backside of the boy sitting nearest the cave. Edie hadn’t caught the boy’s name, but he was a fidgety one, given to stand suddenly at the most unexpected moments.
Before Edie could ask what was happening, Whiskey Jack brought her horse around. He’d returned an hour ago, right after which he and Virgil had disappeared inside the cave.
Tell reached down for her arm, propelling her to her feet and then asking if she was all right. The boy had been nothing but kind to her, to the point that Edie began questioning all she’d heard about the Fletchers. But then a couple of the boys had recounted some of their exploits back in Kansas as they took turns slinging a knife at a nearby aspen, and Edie was reminded of who exactly she was dealing with.
She’d sat quietly all afternoon on the hard ground, her legs and arms slowly growing numb, and her mind racing through possibilities. What would happen if her pa didn’t agree to the Fletchers’ terms? What if James attempted to intervene? And the worst one of all—what if the entire premise of a ransom was only an excuse for the Fletchers to exact some sort of revenge on her family? Levi was certainly angry enough. Virgil and the others might feel the same, even if they weren’t so vocal about it. And if James were there too . . . The awful images rolled across her mind, unbidden and impossible to stop.
And the longer she sat, the more the worry grew.
“Are you sure you’re all right? Tell asked her again.
Edie nodded. Physically, she was fine. In fact, it felt good to stand now, even if her hands were still bound and she had to rely on Tell Fletcher to ensure she remained upright. It was her mind that couldn’t settle.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked the boy.
“We got a meetup with the Beaumonts.” He led her to the horse, but Edie stopped still and he almost tripped.
She yanked herself around, back toward where Virgil stood with Whiskey Jack and another man she hadn’t yet caught the name of. She had to know what they had planned. She refused to go into this unprepared. “Mr. Fletcher,” she called, taking a few steps forward before Tell recovered enough to halt her progress.
The men stopped talking.
“Miss Edith, you need to get on the horse,” Tell said in a frantic, low voice.
Edie ignored him. “Mr. Fletcher, I demand to know your plans.”
That easy grin slid across Virgil’s face again as he ambled toward her, the other men following behind.
Edie straightened, Tell’s hand still wrapped around her arm. He pulled on her, but she stood firm. “If you’re using me as some sort of bait, it’s only fair I know what you’re planning.”
“I already told you, Miss Beaumont. You don’t take me at my word?” He crooked an eyebrow.
Edie no more took this man at his word than she’d have taken a snake at his. She said nothing, but she held her head high and refused to look away.
“She don’t trust you one bit,” Whiskey Jack said with a laugh.
The other man merely stared at her before a slight smile curved his lips.
Edie glanced up at Tell. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.
There was nothing trustworthy about these men. For all she knew, they were telling the truth. But she couldn’t take that chance. She needed to keep them away from her family. Away from James.
“I have a proposal for you,” she blurted out.
“A proposal,” Virgil repeated, as if he didn’t quite comprehend what she’d said.
“Yes. I assume you came here for money, right?”
Virgil didn’t reply, but he didn’t indicate he was uninterested in what she had to say.
Edie pushed on, making it up as she went. “I work at the hotel as a waitress. I don’t know if Mr. Adkins mentioned it in his letter, but I have regular access to the hotel’s office. To the safe.”
“And what does that mean to us?” the unnamed man asked.
Edie swallowed, hardly able to believe what she was going to say. “It means I can get you money.” When none of them responded, she added, “Regularly.” Of course, she had no intention of doing anything of the sort, but if the lure of such an idea kept them from this meeting with her family, she’d promise them anything.
“We’re set for money, girl. We don’t need the pennies you’d collect from the hotel. Besides, ain’t one of us got any intention of remaining in these parts.” Virgil tapped his fingers against his gun belt and glanced at Tell. He was impatient with the conversation, that much was clear.
As if on cue, Tell tugged at her arm again. But Edie remained planted where she was. She wouldn’t give up that easily.
“Then I’ll go with you, back to Kansas. I can be useful to you. I could . . . collect information.” Her mind spun, trying desperately to come up with
something Virgil might latch on to.
“You’d be a spy?” The older man took a few steps forward until he was so close, she could see the individual strands of salt and pepper in his beard. He looked down at her, and she fought the urge to back up. She couldn’t cower from him, not if she wanted him to believe her. And so she stood firm, fighting every instinct that told her to do otherwise. “And who would you spy on?”
“Anyone you might need to know more about.” Her palms grew damp and her heart thumped a rhythm she thought for certain they could all hear.
“Anyone?” His smile grew broader as if she amused him. “Your own family?”
Edie swallowed. “If needed.” She wasn’t certain how she’d get out of such a situation, but she’d figure that out later—if this worked.
The smile disappeared. “I got no need for a blood traitor. Besides, I know you ain’t got the stomach for it, or you never would’ve left Kansas.” He held her gaze a moment longer, his steely gray eyes so cold that they hardly seemed to belong to anyone living. “Tell,” he said without moving. “Get her up on that horse before I lose my temper.”
“Yes, Pa.” Tell pulled on her arm again, and Edie relented.
She’d failed.
And now both James and her family might pay the price.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Ty Beaumont led James and the other men out of the mining camp. James dispatched a couple of the men to return to Crest Stone to gather more. If they were going to meet up with the Fletchers, he wanted to ensure he had the larger numbers on his side.
At first, he’d wondered if he could trust this Beaumont. But considering Ty let a number of men who might rather see him hanging from the end of a noose ride with him out into the valley—and considering he’d finally put up that shotgun—James was inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. It had crossed his mind they might be riding into an ambush, but at least he knew Ty wasn’t lying about his identity. James had pressed him for details about his sister, and everything he’d said rang true about the woman James knew.
