Bryant slapped his palms against the desktop. If he didn’t defect now, the mayor would own his soul. He yanked the stack of papers back out from the drawer and glared at the man for a second before thumbing through them. “I do.” Paging through the documents, Bryant tried to will his body to cease trembling. “You told me the first forgery would cover the debt I owed. It wasn’t my fault it didn’t profit you as much as you’d projected.” He tapped the pile of papers he’d shuffled halfway through. “I’m not taking part in this anymore.”
McGill’s casual stance told Bryant he had the wrong stack.
He threw the papers back into the drawer and shut it.
“You agreed to this one. You aren’t backing out.”
“Who says I’m not?” Bryant pulled open the next drawer.
“I’m sure your wife would thank you if you didn’t.”
He narrowed his eyes at his rotund boss and wrenched out a folder crammed in the back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Without moving from his leisurely position against the wall, McGill grabbed a toothpick from his chest pocket and took his time picking his teeth.
The man believed he had Bryant right where he wanted him.
And he most likely did.
Bryant set his jaw and urged his stomach to settle.
“I doubt she’d like to hear what sort of things her hero of a husband’s been doing lately.” McGill used his toothpick to mimic a bird in flight. “If some little birdy flew by a’singing, she just might be devastated to hear the lyrics.”
“You won’t tell her.” Bryant’s hands trembled, but thankfully they were hidden from view behind the desk. “You’d implicate yourself.”
McGill’s mouth scrunched back and forth. The clock’s ticking grew louder. “True. But she’d not share what she’d learn with anyone else lest you end up in jail. But you, however, would suffer the consequences of a woman scorned.”
“She’s too good. She’d turn me in along with you.” Bryant wouldn’t ask her to cover for him, not when he deserved punishment. “She’d be consumed with guilt if she didn’t.”
McGill pushed off the wall. “So why’s your conscience plaguing you now? We’ve already discussed how this would be good for the widow.”
“In your opinion.”
“Yes.” McGill snapped his toothpick. “So what’s panicked you so much you’re sneaking around in my office?” He grinned, slow and wide. “Looking for papers that aren’t even here?”
Bryant fought to keep the defeated groan inside. He pushed his chair back and stood. “Because this one will hurt a friend. A friend I didn’t know would be involved.”
McGill’s face went blank for a moment, but then he smiled large enough to contort his mustache, making Bryant want to vomit. “I’d overheard something about the marshal getting married.” He huffed a semi-laugh. “Chose her, did he?” When Bryant didn’t respond, he walked around the desk and shoved the open drawers closed. “That does put you in an awkward position. But then, he’ll never know.”
“Correct. He’ll never know his land was in jeopardy if we stop this now.”
“Too late.” McGill set down his satchel and unhooked its straps. “I had Mr. Grayson draw up the papers last Friday. Judge Macrow has been informed, and my boys have taken care of the evidence.” McGill licked the tips of two fingers and snatched some pages from inside his case. “And since Macrow is completely oblivious, it wouldn’t be wise to turn yourself in to the man who’ll be sentencing you, considering how often you’ve duped him.”
Mr. Grayson was a paid accomplice, but Macrow was known for being just, and harsh.
McGill handed the papers to Bryant. “Now don’t be tearing these up since it’ll do you no good and will only make me angry.”
Bryant took the papers, the pages seeming to sear into his flesh. He dropped them onto the desk.
“I want you to deliver those to Mr. and Mrs. Hendrix.” McGill’s satisfied smile pushed his cheeks up, the wrinkles about his eyes growing more pronounced.
Bryant shook his head despite the pressure pulsing behind his ears. “Jake will see right through me if I hand this to him. And if he gets suspicious, you won’t be able to keep this up, let alone get away with what we’ve done.”
“He didn’t catch on the last two times we had him evict people we were helping.”
“I can’t do it.” Bryant swallowed hard. “Not after I just signed his marriage license.”
“Then you’d better brush up on your stage skills quickly.” McGill leaned down, his nose only inches away from Bryant’s. “Understand?”
Bryant scooted back. “You’ve already stolen two properties. Abandon this one. It’s too risky. Jake’s the law. He’d have means to investigate.”
“You mean meddle,” McGill bellowed. “The man should do what he’s assigned to do without all his fussing.”
How many times had Jacob stood up before the council and argued against McGill’s frivolous codes? His sound logic always made McGill look like a fool, and the man hated anyone who made him look like a fool. But as mayor, he had the power, and Jacob, though often opposed, always did his job. Even when those jobs were assigned as punishment for not keeping his mouth shut.
McGill’s mustache twisted up on one side above his smirk, and he leaned against a cabinet. “Besides, he ain’t that good at his job now, is he? How long has he been chasing after those rustlers?”
Bryant shrugged.
“The town ought to get rid of a lawman who can’t protect our county’s most precious commodities.” McGill snorted. “Perhaps it’s a good thing to have him ranching.”
The tension in Bryant’s shoulders melted. “So we’ll reverse this?”
McGill rolled his eyes. “Don’t be daft.”
How Bryant ached to strangle McGill’s fleshy throat.
“How about this?” McGill laid his meaty hand on Bryant’s shoulder. “Keeping a sniveling, cowardly man like yourself on board will not help me in the long run, so I’ll agree to this being the last one.”
So he’d intended to keep him fixing books indefinitely? His fists clenched, but he kept them at his sides. He should’ve come clean to Leah about the gambling from the beginning, even if it meant his daughter had to wait a year to return to the blind school. “I don’t see how you expect that to make me happy.”
“Seeing as how doggone worried you are about the marshal, I’m letting you know it’s to my advantage to let the man have a ranch at some point.” McGill sat on the desk corner. “If he’s got land, he’ll quit, and I can get someone better into his office.”
“Better” meaning a paid-for pushover.
“But, unbeknownst to Mrs. Gephart—”
“Mrs. Hendrix.” Sadness along with a twinge of happiness for his friend mixed together at the sound of her name.
“Whatever.” McGill pulled out another toothpick and rolled it between his fingers. “She’s got a rich placer up on a bend of her part of the Laramie. My boys have already brought me in a bag of gold.” From his breast pocket, he pulled out a small shiny nugget, no bigger than a lady’s pinky nail. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it at Bryant. “So how’s this? We go through with taking the land as planned. My boys strip the gold, and then I’ll sell it to Jacob at a price he can afford.”
“He’s going to want to buy it the second I hand him eviction papers.” Bryant shook his head. They were going to get caught. But what could he do to thwart McGill without landing himself in Wyoming’s Territorial Prison? He fingered the little rock.
“Tell him we’ve already got a buyer, and we’re obligated to give the man first bid.” McGill shrugged. “Of course, this unidentified man will win the bid, not take residence, and after a few months, decide he no longer wants it.” McGill tsked, shaking his head dramatically. “Rich men have more money than they know what to do with.”
Bryant rubbed his eyes, then stared out the window. Would that work? Could he get out of this mess without landing
himself in jail and get Jacob land too? “Fine. But I’m not doing this anymore.”
“As you’ve said, you’ve paid your debt. I’ll give you a share of the gold, sell the marshal back the land, and everyone’s happy.”
Bryant shoved away from the desk and scooped up his hat.
McGill grabbed his sleeve. “Where’re you going, sonny?”
The demeaning nickname heightened Bryant’s hatred of the man. “Home. Wedding lunch.”
“Is that where the marshal is this afternoon?” At Bryant’s nod, McGill snatched the eviction notice off the desk. “Give the happy couple this.”
“It’s Sunday,” he hissed.
McGill walked past him and opened the office door. “You were awful eager to be working on Sunday when I came in.” With a wave of his hand, he indicated Bryant should vacate the office. “I want her off the property by Tuesday.”
Chapter Eleven
Jacob stretched in the wooden chair at the Whitsetts’ kitchen table. The room still smelled of ham and beans despite Spencer leaving no leftovers, and the ladies were taking care of the dishes.
He closed his eyes and took a deep inhale of the smell of domestication. Soon, home would be a big beautiful ranch he’d run with a hardworking woman at his side. In the space of a week, his life had become exactly what he’d always wanted. Only God would gift Jacob the desires of his heart without any effort of his own.
Thank you, Lord, for the family you’ve given me. Help me be a balm to their heartache but not crowd out Gregory’s memory. Let me honor his desire to provide for his family by giving me the wisdom to work his ranch to the best of my abilities.
When thumping sounded on the front porch, Leah, juggling bowls and plates, turned pleading eyes toward him. He started to push back his chair, but stopped when Annie bent in front of the oven to pull a pie from the lower rack. He looked away to keep from lingering on her slender form, but then allowed himself to look. They were married now. He could look as long as he wished. Though she’d not have caught his eye only weeks ago, he couldn’t say there wasn’t something attractive about a lithe, willowy woman.
“Jacob, could you please get the door?” Leah’s question startled him.
He caught her tickled smile and responded with a sly grin. “Sure.”
Who would be the first person he’d get to introduce to his new wife? Strangely feeling like skipping, Jacob sauntered through the Whitsetts’ modest parlor and opened the door.
Bryant stood on the porch, his hands behind his back.
Jacob glanced behind his friend, then up and down the street.
Bryant’s eyes didn’t quite meet his.
“You may come in?” Jacob let his question ring with amusement. However, Bryant didn’t budge or look amused, so he crossed his arms and dropped the lightheartedness. “Why are you knocking on your own door?”
Bryant cleared his throat. Twice. “I don’t rightly know.”
Jacob moved to the side, and Bryant took one step through the door and stopped, staring at the women bustling about in the kitchen.
Celia came into the parlor and flopped down. If Bryant wasn’t acting so strange, he’d have ordered her back into the kitchen to help with cleanup.
Jacob nudged Bryant out of the way so he could shut the door. What was wrong with the man now? He’d agreed to witness their wedding, but still acted as if he couldn’t reconcile himself with Jacob’s choice of bride.
If he said anything against Annie now, Jacob would pound him flat. Friend or not.
The shuffling in the kitchen ceased and the women moved out of view.
Bryant cleared his throat again. “I’m afraid I have bad news.” His attempted whisper sounded louder than a coyote’s howl.
“Get to it, then.” How long was he going to parade his misgivings about?
Bryant pulled some papers from behind his back. He took a quick glance over Jacob’s shoulder toward the kitchen before thrusting out the documents. “This is a notice that Annie Gephart, now Annie Hendrix, is to vacate her property by noon on Tuesday. She’s defaulted on her loan, and the city has begun actions to repossess.”
Celia gasped, and something clattered in the kitchen, sounding just like his heart might if it was spasming against wood instead of flesh and bone.
“What?” Annie darted into the parlor and grabbed the paper from Bryant’s hand. She pulled the notice so taut, she about ripped it.
Jacob watched Bryant’s face. The timing of this news was wrong, and it wasn’t the only thing. “Why,” he spoke through gritted teeth, “did you not mention this before?”
Leah came up to peer around Annie’s shoulder before giving her husband a cold glare. “This is what you needed to do on a Sunday?”
The paper in Annie’s hands fluttered so much there was no way she could be reading it. “What loan?”
His lungs relaxed a little. At least she hadn’t hidden the loan from him since this was the first he’d heard of it. If she had kept such a thing from him—
“I—I drew that up a week ago, but I ... forgot about it. It’s not like your name at the time stood out to me.” Bright red crept up Bryant’s neck. But he took in a long breath and met Jacob’s eyes. “But when you said her name after church this morning, I thought it sounded familiar, and something in my gut warned me she was ... trouble.”
Jacob glared at him and Bryant ducked his head.
“I mean, her name was what troubled me. So on my way to City Hall, I prayed all the way there that it wasn’t because she was on the eviction list. I didn’t mention that’s what I was thinking, because if she wasn’t, well, I didn’t want to throw a wet blanket on your day.”
Celia harrumphed. “You thought you weren’t already being a wet blanket?”
“Hush.” Annie whispered with just enough force to be heard.
How she remained standing despite trembling so, Jacob wasn’t sure. He reached over to steady her.
Bryant pulled on his collar. “McGill walked in while I was in the office checking, and since he’d finished proceedings, he wanted me to deliver the notice directly.” He stared at the floor. “Not my choice,” he mumbled.
Annie shook her head. “This can’t be. Gregory wouldn’t have put our land up as collateral for some loan.”
“I think—” Bryant’s voice cut out and he cleared his throat for the hundredth time. “Or rather, I seem to recall Gregory came in a few years ago to talk to McGill.”
“But I never saw any money or...” Annie’s voice faded off.
Bryant shrugged. “Perhaps he might have been gambling? You wouldn’t have seen money if he was paying off a debt.”
“Gregory didn’t gamble.” Annie grabbed Jacob’s arm and dug her fingers in. She looked up at him as if willing him to believe her.
Whether he did or not, the eviction notice was proof something hadn’t been as she’d assumed. And with how the man had likely been killed while taking another man’s life...
Bryant licked his lips, glanced toward the children, then at Jacob. “I haven’t yet recorded the marriage. An annulment could be—”
“Bryant Whitsett,” Leah hissed. “Spencer. Celia. Why don’t you head into the kitchen and get some pie?”
Annie had frozen so completely, Jacob had to take a second look at her to confirm she was still breathing.
With a backward glance, Celia ushered Spencer through the door.
Jacob tightened his grip on Annie and pinned Bryant with a glare. “I’ve said vows before God. No law permits me to abandon a marriage just because it happened minutes before—”
“The law doesn’t take into account something like this, surely—”
“No.” Jacob let his voice end on a sharp, final note though his gut roiled over how completely his future had just changed. “I told you. I wouldn’t marry a woman just for her land.” Jacob coaxed Annie closer, but her body lost none of its tension.
Bryant turned to Annie. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I was only trying—”
Leah cleared her throat and Bryant straightened and swallowed. “I know it’s hard to think ill of the dead, but I know for a fact, that gambling can overtake many a man, making him go to extremes to pay his debts and hide it from his family. You wouldn’t be the first woman unaware of her husband’s activities.”
“No,” Annie whispered, but seemed to have no more to say.
Months ago, Jacob had been involved with another eviction where a woman had refused to believe her late husband had taken out a loan. When the papers to back McGill’s assertions were handed to her, she’d been devastated. She’d asked for an extension, but McGill had wanted her property. Jacob’s stomach churned. The Laramie River and the Gepharts’ improvements would make anyone looking for a ranch salivate—it’s why he’d chosen to consider Annie’s unexpected proposal rather than dismiss it out of hand.
McGill was no fool. He knew what he had.
Bryant faced Jacob. “Maybe you could try to talk with McGill on Monday. Pay it off?”
“That’s exactly what they’ll do.” Leah grabbed Annie’s other arm and rubbed it. “I don’t suppose you feel up to having pie?”
Annie’s mouth formed the word “no,” but there was no sound as tears bubbled onto her lower lashes.
Leah gave her a quick hug. “I’ll see to the children.”
Jacob handed Annie his handkerchief, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and listened to her uneven breathing. His stomach felt as ragged as her breath.
He was afraid to inquire after the amount, but waiting wouldn’t change the answer. “How much is the loan?” Annie’s property was worth more than he’d saved to purchase a ranch, but surely God—
“If I remember correctly, eight thousand dollars.” Bryant’s gaze fastened onto something immaterial in front of him.
“That’s more than it’s worth!” Annie’s fingers bit into Jacob’s flesh, and she dropped the papers.
Bryant picked the sheets up, folded a page over, and ran his finger down to the bottom. “I believe I assessed your property for a little under seven thousand five hundred.” He tapped his finger on a line and handed the document to Jacob. “The loan was for eight.”
Romancing the Bride Page 9
