Despite his words, Owen was not looking forward to being alone with his thoughts. He knew it was necessary, simply not something he would particularly enjoy. It was like going to the barber to pull his broken tooth out. Only much worse, since this pain did not subside no matter what.
Before Deputy Gibson interrupted their little quarrel, Hope was about to say something. What was she about to say? The not knowing was eating him alive. He did not dare dream she was going to respond in kind. Owen was not that lucky. What if she did? His beating heart hoped with every thump.
At the same time, that same heart was petrified she would refuse him and continue with her plan on marrying Mr. Dalbow.
Owen gritted his teeth, picturing them in front of a church with Father Clemente officiating. Suddenly that whole image was unbearable to him, and he felt like raging to the heavens he was not fortunate enough to meet her first.
Owen truly meant what he said. He hated with all his might she belonged to someone else. Not yet, he could hear Kit’s voice inside his head.
He would respect her decision regardless of what it may be. Perhaps she does not know she has options, he started to worry. Maybe he was not clear enough.
First, he would deal with this Brexville case and once he returned to Rippingate, he would look after her. This conversation that transpired between them needed to be finished. He couldn’t stand the way they left things unfinished and was impatient for its closure, no matter what happened. His restlessness was a bit ironic considering his occupation. At times, his job required him to be painstakingly patient. When Hope was concerned, he apparently had none.
Mayhap, it would be prudent to give Hope a little space, he mused. She was dealing with the loss of her friend so he didn’t want to add problems on top of that.
I could be the solution to her woes, especially if she agrees to marry me. Owen felt like he was on step fifty when they were both struggling to make step one. He needed to pace himself and return to reality.
Hope would obviously need a little time to process his words. He didn’t want to rush her. Owen needed to let her think things over just as he needed that, too.
I did spring a great deal onto her, he allowed. Any sensible young woman would need time.
I will be away for at least three days, he started calculating inside his head. That is plenty of time for her to contemplate everything. That was plenty of time for the both of them, Owen concluded, pleased with himself he finally had a true course of action.
The ride to Brexville was a restless one, and not simply because of his thoughts. The terrain was rocky with small inclinations so Owen had to watch the horse's steps. He did not want his stallion to break his leg.
The vegetation around them was scarce, mostly dried up bushes, and there were no trees in sight that could provide even a minute of shade against the blazing sun. However, none of that derailed him or slowed down his thoughts about Hope.
The next time he spoke with her, he would have something prepared, not blurt out the first thing that came to his mind. No wonder she went away so quickly with his deputy. Granted, she was anxious to see her friend, which she wouldn’t since he lied to her, he remembered. That was yet another thing he had to feel guilty about regarding Hope. For her, he would gladly carry that burden for the rest of his life.
Owen would take care of business then have a heart-to-heart talk with Hope. If she wants to speak with me in the first place, came a sudden thought that filled him with dread. The notion almost knocked him off his horse, only quick reflexes and years of practice prevented it.
No, he rebelled. He needed to have faith everything would turn out all right. That was what Father Clemente always said and Owen would listen to the priest, he had no other choice.
As the sky started to darken, he continued to torment himself with all kinds of highly amusing thoughts that all involved him succumbing to despair. At some point, Owen noticed that a coyote was following them.
Once upon a time, a tribal shaman told Owen his spirit animal was a wolf. When he asked what that meant, the shaman replied how that particular animal was destined to be his protector. A spirit who watched over him and gave him strength when Owen needed it the most. Owen did not believe in such things. However, he took this as a good sign that this journey was to be a fortunate one.
“Come on, spirit,” he said to the coyote lightly. “Grant me your strength so I can defeat Ghost once and for all and win Hope’s affection.”
Owen was aware that was a tall order. By the way the coyote looked at him, it was as though the bargain was already struck, so he urged his horse to run faster. He was anxious to get to Brexville since he had a sudden, strange feeling the end was near.
22
Hope banished all thoughts that had nothing to do with Jessamine from her head as they approached the train station in a small town called Black Creek. She found it odd they had a train station when Rippingate, which was much bigger, didn’t. After she voiced her confusion, Deputy Gibson explained to her that Rippingate had terrain problems so their track took longer to build.
That makes sense.
The conductor, named Clyde Bower, who witnessed the whole robbery, and who was the one that notified the Sheriff’s department in the first place, met them halfway. If he was surprised she was there he did not comment on it.
“I left him tied up inside the station,” Mr. Bower explained, while pointing at the small white building. “Didn’t know what else to do with him. We don’t have a proper jailhouse anymore, you see. It was destroyed by the Michaelson's gang few years ago. Eddy's brother was jailed in it so the they used dynamite to set him free and it was never rebuilt,” he said a bit apologetically, as though that was somehow his fault.
“So what do you normally do?” Deputy Gibson inquired.
The conductor shrugged. “We manage, and notify you.”
Hope found that to be a highly unreliable solution, yet she held her tongue.
“Did he say anything?” Deputy Gibson asked another question. Gone was the seemingly carefree deputy that tried to engage her in conversation along the way here and who liked to joke. He was all business now. That was a familiar trait he shared with Sheriff Owen.
No, don’t go there! She warned herself.
Hope supposed all officers of the law were like that. They could be relaxed and smiling one minute, yet if something happened in the next they became completely serious and focused, as though they had some kind of button inside of them. And when they pressed it, it changed the way they acted. Not in a bad way, though.
“Nothin’. However, he is a wild brute,” Mr. Bower scratched his head before continuing. “It took both me and my boy to knock him out.”
“Well done,” Deputy Gibson complimented him and Hope saw Mr. Bower’s chest puff out a little.
Hope was a bit timid to come close to a known criminal. What if he tries to attack me? If that bandit made Mr. Bower wary, then she did not have a chance to stand against him if something happened.
Oh, stop exaggerating the situation, you are not encountering a wild animal, she snapped at herself. Hope was not entirely sure that small voice inside her head had a point. The conductor himself called the bandit a wild brute.
Looking at Deputy Gibson, she reminded herself she was not alone. Deputy Gibson is armed, she added. Besides, men were prone to exaggerate, especially in these kinds of situations. Either way, Hope would discover for herself soon enough, if her worries were founded or not.
“This way,” Mr. Bower encouraged, taking them to the back entrance.
Deputy Gibson turned toward her before they walked through the door. “Would you like to stay outside?” He asked in a hushed voice.
Even he thought she was too delicate. Despite the fact she had the same thought mere seconds ago, Hope raised her chin up. “I would like to come with you, if that is all right.”
He inclined his head. “Of course.” She could not decipher if he was disappointed or impressed by her
behavior. It did not matter at any rate, since she got what she wanted.
Is this what I want? She questioned. Not exactly. As it turned out she had a knack of doing foolish things when people tried to tell her what to do. Hope was working on that issue. That was a problem for a different day. She refocused on the present.
Walking inside the empty station, they encountered a man neatly tied to a bench with some ropes. A lad half his age watched over him, pointing a revolver to the bandit’s head.
“You can put that down, son,” Deputy Gibson advised the young man, who instantly complied.
Hope registered all that in passing since her attention was on the criminal. She did not know what to expect, exactly. This man was not it.
The raider smiled as they approached him. “What a happy coincidence,” he said to them.
“Speak for yourself,” Deputy Gibson replied in a flat tone. Hope frowned. She felt like she was missing something.
The criminal chuckled, ignoring the deputy’s words. “And look, you brought such nice company. I would have combed my hair if I knew a lady would be here.”
“Do not even look at her,” Deputy Gibson warned.
The tied man looked rather scrawny and malnourished, with partly rotten teeth, if he had them at all. His clothes were dirty and he stank terribly, causing Hope to gag a little. This is a notorious bandit? Hope asked in disbelief.
The bandit smiled again. “Long time no see, Dougie,” he greeted, in high spirit.
Who is Dougie? Hope wondered, looking around to see if someone else was inside the station. They were alone.
“Hello, Louie,” Deputy Gibson replied with a sigh. The deputy stopped once he stood right in front of the robber. Hope decided to linger a couple of steps back. She could see and hear everything that was happening yet her stomach protested less at this distance from the smelly man.
“Someone finally managed to tie you down, I see,” the deputy joked. Hope barely managed to stay straight-faced and not to smile.
“Small nuisance,” Louie tried to shrug. It was difficult for him to do so since the ropes were restricting his movements and the end result was rather awkward.
“You two know each other?” Mr. Bower asked the deputy.
Hope wondered the very same thing from the moment the men started speaking to one another yet remained quiet, considering it to be rude to interrupt them with her questions. She was grateful that the conductor would satisfy her curiosity, though.
“Unfortunately,” the deputy replied glumly.
On the other hand, the robber couldn’t look happier, which was somewhat comical since he couldn’t even move. “We are cousins,” Louie announced. “Dougie here,” he nodded toward Deputy Gibson, “is the black sheep of the family.”
Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Hope questioned.
Deputy Gibson went a little red in the face, clearly embarrassed, irritated that Louie revealed their connection, and Hope could understand that completely. It must have been difficult doing the job he did, fully knowing you had a cousin on the other side of the law.
“Arguable,” Gibson said through gritted teeth.
“If your poor papa could see you now,” Louie said, while faking a few sobs.
“Enough, you buffoon!” Deputy Gibson yelled, finally losing his composure.
“You wound me, cousin, aren’t you glad to see me?”
“Immensely. But put our family drama aside. Tell me, Louie, what did you get yourself involved in this time?”
Hope inched a little closer, waiting to hear his reply.
“I do not know what you are talking about, Dougie,” he replied wide-eyed, a perfect picture of innocence. “I simply boarded the train, was minding my own business, when this madman,” he spat at the conductor, “knocked me out and tied me up.”
Hope was certain he was lying.
“He is lying,” Mr. Bower was outraged. “I will show you,” he started raising his fists. Deputy Gibson looked at the conductor. “Mr. Bower,” was all he said and that prevented the other man from further interference.
Deputy Gibson refocused on his cousin. “Really? You just happened to be there when the train was being robbed?”
“You know I have the worst luck.”
“Louie.”
“I swear on my momma’s grave, Dougie,” he even tried to raise his hand to place it across his heart, which was impossible.
Deputy Douglas gritted his teeth, clearly losing patience. “Better for you to talk now while I ask nicely,” he warned. “Tell me, are you involved with the Michaelson’s gang?”
Louie gawked. “Michaelson’s? Never heard of them. Are they some kind of traveling theater or a carnival?”
“Do not play dumb, you know exactly who they are.”
“Yes, everybody heard of them,” Mr. Bower had to speak up.
Hope had never heard of them, although it was safe to assume it was some kind of notorious group of bandits that was infamous in these parts.
“You have a rather poor opinion of me, cousin,” Louie replied to the deputy.
Deputy Gibson leaned in, getting into the other man’s face. “So if I tore your left sleeve I won’t find their mark on your skin?”
“Don’t do that, this is my only nice shirt.”
Is everything a joke to this man? Hope was perplexed.
“I am losing my patience with you,” Deputy Gibson practically growled. Hope was surprised he was holding onto his calm this long. Hope would lose her temper much sooner. That was probably because she was not an officer. They were used to dealing with things like this, or so she presumed.
“I’ve answered all your questions,” Louie defended himself. “How about you untie me now? I am completely innocent, after all.”
“Stop lying, you scum,” Mr. Bower raised his voice once more. “I saw you with my own eyes busting into the coach. Three other men were with him,” he explained. The conductor pulled something from his pocket. “He had this scarf tied around his mouth.”
“What happened to the other three?” Deputy Gibson asked, getting them off the track for a moment.
Hope chuckled at her own joke.
“They took what they could and jumped out. I managed to catch this one. It was not easy, I tell you, this one struggled, clawed, and bit like a wildcat.”
Louie narrowed his eyes, looking at Mr. Bower. “That is nothing but slander. You are a liar, old man.”
Mr. Bower reached for the bandit again as though he wanted to strangle him with his bare hands. Things were really starting to heat up and Hope took a couple of steps back, not wanting to get involved in a fight.
As it turned out, she didn’t have to worry.
“Enough!” Deputy Gibson yelled, preventing the conductor from causing the robber any harm. He then approached his cousin and tore up his sleeve, exposing his arm.
As Deputy Gibson predicted, there was a brand on Louie’s shoulder as though he was burnt by a branding iron. As far as Hope could tell, he had a scar in the shape of a circled letter M.
M like Michaelson’s, she guessed.
“Oh, Louie,” Deputy Gibson tsked, he was not only disappointed but sad as well.
Louie glanced at his arm. “That’s nothing. I played with fire and accidentally got burned. It happens.”
He was still denying it, Hope was appalled.
“You played with something more dangerous this time,” the deputy replied. “Either way, I'm done with you.”
“Does that mean I am free to go?”
“I am taking you with me to Rippingate and there you will tell the Sheriff everything you know about this new job venture of yours.” The way he said it, it was a demand, not a request. And by the look Louie gave him, he was aware of it and wasn’t too happy about it.
Deputy Gibson then turned to speak to Mr. Bower. “I presume we can’t stay here too long.”
“No, sir, another train is due to arrive soon.”
Deputy Gibson nodded. “Do you
have a place we can hold him for a while? Miss Hope and I have some other business to attend to before we leave.”
Mr. Bower thought about it for a moment. “We can try asking Bryan Peterson, he is our local mortician.”
“Oh, for crying out loud, I am not dead,” Louie complained.
“Or Captain Stevenson, he is retired now and he helped with situations like these in the past. He fought in the war, you know.”
“Excellent,” the deputy replied simply.
Mr. Bower turned toward the young man. He was so quiet, Hope completely forgot he was even there. “Boy, go and fetch the Captain.”
The Redemption 0f A Hunted Bride (Historical Western Romance) Page 21
