Moonlight With Alice (The Matchmaker's Ball Book 3)

by Amelia C. Adams

  Chapter Nine

  “I haven’t seen those pistols go flying into the grass yet,” Juke said. “How ’bout you, boss?”

  “No, I didn’t see that either,” said the first voice. “I think that should be our next order of business.”

  So far, only two men had been interacting with Ranse and KC, but there were four horses waiting. Either the two men had brought along extra horses, or there were two additional men skulking around somewhere who hadn’t shown themselves yet. Ranse remembered what the cook had said—that it sounded like the robbers were waiting for more men to join them. The odds weren’t favorable, that was for sure.

  “But we’ve already shot the deputy’s hat clean off his head. I don’t know what we can threaten them with now,” Juke said.

  “You’ll just have to start shootin’ other stuff. There’s ears and noses and all kinds of things,” the boss replied.

  The moonlight that had made Ranse’s proposal to Alice so magical was now working against him. It shone on the porch, showing exactly where Ranse and KC were crouched, creating a shadow so they couldn’t see their adversaries. Ranse couldn’t tell if they were on the porch too or if they were standing in a doorway or perhaps speaking through an open window. The angle of the house and the angle of the moonlight were just right for keeping things concealed.

  “I’d sure like to see the Kilpacks untied and sent out here,” KC replied. “That’s the only way I’ll know for sure that they’re safe.”

  Juke laughed. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands, Marshal. I could pick you off clean through the heart right now and you wouldn’t even know the bullet was coming.”

  “That’s where I’m getting confused.” KC shifted his weight a little. “You made it a point to tell us that you don’t like killing people, but you talk about it so free and easy—I don’t know what to believe. That’s why I’d like to see the Kilpacks.”

  “I’m sure you remember I also said that lawmen aren’t exactly people, so it doesn’t matter if we kill them or not. The time for talking is over. Throw your pistols in the grass now.”

  “All right, all right—just give me a second to unbuckle my spare.”

  Ranse sensed that KC was trying to distract Juke, keeping him talking for as long as possible. KC must be forming a plan or gathering information—he wasn’t acting out of cowardice because he didn’t have a cowardly bone in his body. Ranse just wished he knew what KC was thinking.

  He glanced at KC, who was taking a long time with his holster. The moonlight might be working against them in some respects, but in others, it allowed him to see the marshal’s face. KC flicked his eyes to the left, looked down at Ranse’s gun, and gave a slight nod.

  Ranse prayed he understood the message correctly.

  KC lifted his hands, a pistol in each. “See? Here they are.” At the same moment, he nudged Ranse with his knee, and Ranse took that as his cue.

  Several things happened all in the same moment. Ranse threw himself onto his side, rolling toward the left and shooting into the darkness. KC flipped his pistols around into shooting position and fired as well, the sounds of gunshots making Ranse’s ears ring. Then a searing pain ripped through his body, burning and stinging, taking his breath away. He nearly cried out, but he couldn’t let their attackers know he was hit—that would give them an edge. Instead, he clenched his teeth together and reached for his spare pistol, determined to give this fight everything he had.

  Pressed up against the house, he slid forward, listening for any further sounds coming from the other side. He couldn’t hear anything—not the scuffle of boots or the sound of labored breathing, not the whisper of hurried plans. Perhaps his hearing was still dull from the gunshots, but he didn’t think so—everything sounded perfectly still.

  He didn’t trust it, but he still kept edging forward.

  He heard the click of a hammer. “I’ve got my gun trained on you, Deputy.”

  Ranse didn’t stop to think, to analyze, or to plan. Instead, he turned and shot in the direction of the voice. He heard the clatter of metal to the wooden porch, and then a heavier thud as a body fell.

  Now it was truly still.

  He couldn’t take much more of this darkness. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a few of the matches he always carried there, using the side of the house as friction to light them. As the flames flared up, he was able to see two men lying on the porch, both appearing to be dead. Then the flames burned out, but he’d seen what he needed.

  He moved forward and picked up the guns he’d seen in that brief flash of light, and KC came alongside him and crouched to put handcuffs on the bodies. “Just in case they’re playing possum,” he said.

  Ranse nodded, then stepped inside the house, looking for a lantern. When he’d found one, he brought it outside and set it on the porch railing, which allowed KC to search the men for any other weaponry they might have tucked away. Then he returned to the house to look for the Kilpacks.

  They were tied up, just as the cook had said, the ropes threaded through the rungs on the kitchen chairs. Ranse grabbed a knife from the counter and sliced them free, then checked their wrists for bruising.

  “Thank you,” Mrs. Kilpack said, choking on a sob. “I . . . I’ve never been so terrified in my life.”

  “How many men were there?” Ranse asked.

  “Two. They’re expecting a few more before morning,” Mr. Kilpack replied.

  Good. He’d been worried about accomplices waiting for the right moment to show themselves.

  “Are you injured at all?”

  Mrs. Kilpack shook her head. “We’re fine. Just . . . just . . . Oh, my.” She pressed a hand to her head. “That was absolutely horrifying. Dear, you’ve been promising me a trip to see the ocean for the last ten years. It might be a good time to keep that promise.”

  Mr. Kilpack chuckled and kissed his wife’s cheek. “I think you’re right.”

  Ranse gave them a moment alone to embrace and gather themselves, stepping out to the porch to update KC. The marshal had tugged the two bodies out of sight and now stood facing the tree line edging the property.

  “Only two men here, but more coming,” Ranse said.

  KC nodded. “I’m not worried.” Then he turned and looked at Ranse, his brows drawing together. “But maybe I should be.”

  Ranse looked down and saw a dark red stain on his side. He remembered getting shot, but in the excitement of the victory and releasing the hostages, he’d been distracted. “Oh,” he replied, realizing the extent of what he was facing. “I’d best grab a towel.”

  “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

  ***

  As the hour grew later and Alice still hadn’t heard from Ranse, she decided she ought to go to bed. He was fine, of course, and he’d come by to see her in the morning. No point in wearing herself out worrying.

  Instead, she focused on all the beautiful things about the ball and had just drifted off to sleep when she heard an insistent knocking on her bedroom door.

  “Miss Givens! Miss Givens!”

  She forced her eyes open and glanced at the clock on the mantel, still visible in the glow from the fireplace. It was three thirty—gracious. What was going on?

  She belted her robe around her waist and opened her door to find her landlady standing there, her nightcap askew.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m sent to tell you that everything’s all right, but that you’re requested to come to Dr. Thomas’s office,” the woman said, a little out of breath—most likely from climbing the stairs in a hurry. “A driver’s been sent for you.”

  “Dr. Thomas?” For the quickest of moments, Alice thought it had something to do with her vision, and she couldn’t understand why that would require a middle-of-the-night visit. Then she realized the greater implications. “Is Deputy Hawkins injured?”

  “I’m just telling you same as what I was told.”

&
nbsp; “I’ll be down as quickly as I can.”

  Alice closed her door, then grabbed her clothing and changed. She was glad to know that everything was all right, but that wasn’t actually as comforting as it could be. Each person’s definition of “all right” varied, and it could mean anything from “he has a cut on his finger” to “his arm is dangling from one sinew.” She needed to get there and find out for herself.

  Just a few moments later, she descended the stairs and found Mr. Cutter there waiting. She knew he often ran errands for the marshal, and she trusted that he’d get her where she needed to be. They climbed into the waiting buggy and rode toward Dr. Thomas’s, Alice’s heart pounding. One thing at a time—that was all she needed to face.

  When she arrived at the office, she nearly sagged with relief when she saw Ranse sitting up on the edge of the bed, chatting with the doctor. His shirt was open and it bore a horrible stain, but she could see that his ribs had been bandaged, and he had color in his cheeks.

  “I don’t know how you’re going to explain that to your laundress,” she said, approaching the bed and motioning to his shirt.

  “I’m more worried about how I’m going to explain it to my seamstress.” Ranse held out his other arm, and she sat down next to him and buried her face in his shoulder.

  “It was a flesh wound—one that caused a lot of bleeding, but not a lot of damage,” Dr. Thomas said. “He’ll be sore for a few weeks, but he’ll recover without any difficulty at all.”

  “Thank you so much,” Alice told him.

  “My pleasure. It was nice to treat a simple gunshot wound this time—the ones I deal with are usually a lot more complex.”

  Alice laid her head on Ranse’s shoulder again, and he held her close. “I’m guessing you have quite the story to tell me.”

  “I do, but it can wait. I’m looking forward to a good nap and a hot meal first.”

  “Where are the men who did this to you?”

  “We took care of the first two—one of them was Juke Bonham.”

  A shudder ran though Alice. It was bad enough that the man had no manners when it came to women, but to know he could be so violent? “You said the first two. There were others?”

  “Yes—we ambushed them when they arrived. Those two are now behind bars. Then KC seemed to think I should see the doctor.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did.” Alice looked up into Ranse’s face. “So, this is what it’s going to be like, marrying a deputy. Blood and bandages.”

  “Hopefully not every day. You aren’t changing your mind, are you?”

  “No, not at all. I’m just preparing myself for what to expect.”

  He bent over and kissed her. “For the most part, you can expect long periods of boredom. My job is fairly routine, and I’m only in danger once in a while.”

  “And . . . that’s comforting?”

  “I think it is.” Ranse looked down into her eyes. “It’s going to be a good life, Alice. I promise you that.”

  The doctor cleared his throat. “And maybe I can help with that. I received this telegram late yesterday afternoon, but I heard you were going to the ball and I didn’t want to interrupt. I have no compunction against interrupting now, though.” He handed the telegram to Alice.

  She took it, sitting up straighter as she unfolded it. “It’s from my grandmother’s doctor,” she told Ranse. “He says that he checked his files, and he believes she lost her sight due to excessive eyestrain. He’s also my mother’s doctor, and has detected no signs of failing sight in her.”

  “This means while you have something in common with your grandmother, it’s connected to your similar activities,” Dr. Thomas said. “If you rest your eyes often, as we’ve discussed, you should have no reason to fear going blind.”

  Relief flooded Alice’s chest for the second time since arriving at the office. “Thank you,” she said again, almost unable to believe everything she was hearing. “This is such wonderful news.”

  “I’ll want to examine your eyes every six months just to be sure, but I feel confident that you’ll be all right.” Dr. Thomas stood up. “Now, I’m sending you home to get some rest, Deputy. I would keep you here for observation, but I have a feeling that you’ve been blessed with a very attentive nurse, and that you’ll be cared for quite well.”

  “Your feelings would be correct.” Alice gave Ranse a smile. “Come along now, Deputy—time for some sleep.”

  Chapter Ten

  Not all the men who’d come to work at the mine were involved in the robberies. Ranse was glad to hear that the rest of the group showed up for their shift bright and early Monday morning, ready to earn some money and get their feet back under them. KC had arranged for their prisoners to be transported to Denver, along with the bodies of the two they’d shot on the porch. Hopefully they’d get a decent burial.

  Ranse stood on the porch of his small house, looking up at the mountains and listening to the wind in the aspen trees. His place wasn’t much, but with this view, he felt like the richest man in the world. And later that morning, he really would become the richest man in the world when he took Alice to be his wife.

  The sound of horse hooves pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned to see a rider approaching the cabin. He didn’t recognize the man, but there didn’t seem to be anything amiss, and the stranger lifted his hand in greeting.

  “Are you Deputy Hawkins?”

  “I am. How can I help you?”

  The man brought his horse to a stop near the porch and dismounted. He then pulled off his hat. “I’m Everett Givens, Alice’s father.”

  “Oh, Mr. Givens, hello. I heard you arrived last night. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to greet you—I was out on a case.”

  “I understand, and I’m sorry for intruding so early this morning. I just wanted to meet the man who’ll be marrying my daughter today.”

  Ranse smiled. “Of course. Please, come in. Can I pour you some coffee?”

  “No, thanks. We just had breakfast at the Hearth and Home.”

  Ranse showed Mr. Givens to his small living room, hoping it was clean enough to pass muster. He’d done his best over the previous week to ready his home for Alice, but he was still counting on the cleaning woman he’d hired for that morning to finish up all the rough edges. Sadly, she wasn’t due for an hour.

  “My daughter speaks so highly of you, it doesn’t seem possible that you’re a real person,” Mr. Givens said. “I thought I’d better check and make sure you actually exist.”

  “I do exist, although I’m sure I’m not as impressive as Alice says. She sees the best in me and has a tendency to overlook the bad.”

  “That’s a good trait in marriage as long as you’re not so oblivious that you miss things that are truly wrong.” Mr. Givens placed his hat on his knee. “I have just one question for you, Deputy. Ever since I stepped off the train, I’ve been hearing stories about your dedication to this town, and I admire that. I want to know if you’ll be that dedicated to my daughter.”

  It was a fair question, one that any father had the right to ask. “Sir, your daughter is my first priority now. I love this town and the people here, but once she becomes my wife, everything else will fall into second place.”

  Mr. Givens nodded. “That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear. I understand being in a line of work that requires your full dedication, but oftentimes, wives and children go neglected because of that dedication. I’m glad to see that you’re keeping your head on straight.”

  “I hope I am, sir. And I’ll continue to try.”

  Mr. Givens came to his feet, and Ranse stood as well. “You have a lot to do, I’m sure, so I’ll be on my way. I’ll see you at the church this afternoon.”

  “Yes, sir. You most certainly will.”

  ***

  The ladies of Creede had come together to help Alice make the dress of her dreams. She designed it, then they each took a section. Mrs. Deveraux sewed all the sections together and did the final hemming, and as A
lice studied herself in the mirror, she couldn’t be more pleased.

  “Oh, you look lovely.” Mrs. Morgan greeted her in the alcove of the church, where she now waited for the ceremony to begin. “And I’m told your groom is on pins and needles to see you . . . oh, dear. That was a terrible sewing pun. I apologize.”

  Alice laughed. “No need. I’m so happy today, even the worst pun in the world couldn’t ruin it for me.”

  Mrs. Morgan gave her a quick squeeze. “Best of luck today, my dear. You deserve it.”

  She went inside the chapel to be seated, and Alice took another deep breath. Almost time . . . almost time . . .

  Her father opened the door and came out, all smiles. “The reverend just gave me the signal. Are you ready?”

  Alice nodded. “I think I’ve been ready for a long, long time.”

  “Then let’s get you married to the impatient young man waiting at the end of the aisle.”

  Alice smiled as she took her father’s arm. If Ranse was impatient, she understood why—she felt the same way. All the delays in their journey together to become man and wife had been torture, but his recovery had to come first. Now it was over—she would become Mrs. Ranse Hawkins in mere minutes, and whatever they had to face, they’d do it together.

  Ranse’s face lit up when he saw her, and he didn’t take his gaze from her the entire length of the ceremony. When the reverend gave them permission to kiss, she was careful not to touch her groom’s side, but he didn’t seem to care. He pulled her close, almost closer than she thought was appropriate for a church, and she giggled against his lips.

  “What?” he said, pulling back.

  “I think you’re going to scandalize the choir boys,” she whispered.

  “I don’t think so. Plus, they’ll be getting married themselves someday. We need to set a good example for them.”

  She giggled again, but kissed him back, looking forward to each and every day as his wife. She would never be bored—she was sure of that.

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