Where the Heart Leads

by Jillian Hart

  Giddy ignored him. Tucked behind a row of cedars, they were hidden by the thick branches. Between the evergreen boughs, they could peek out at the road. Hooves splashed on the road, coming closer, and Junior held his breath. Was it Aumaleigh McPhee coming home? Was Giddy going to grab her and scare all her money out of her?

  What if it was Miss Iris coming to visit her aunt’s house for some reason? Maybe she was leaving some stew. Junior fisted his hands, worried. It felt wrong to worry about some woman, especially a rich woman. But he couldn’t help it.

  “It’s that sheriff.” Giddy aimed his revolved and fired, just like that.

  With no warning. With no provocation. Just bang, and the sheriff fell from his horse. He lay face down in the mud. Blood puddled on the road.

  “Got him!” Giddy’s triumph would have been contagious.

  Except for the fact that this was the man Miss Iris was going to marry. Junior stood frozen, staring at the motionless sheriff. Sure, he’d once had the notion of trying to court Miss Iris for her money, but he’d never had a chance. Now, because of her kindness to him, he liked her. For real.

  This was gonna hurt her bad.

  “What are you standing there for?” Giddy shouted at him, glaring at him like he was the biggest fool on earth.

  That’s when Junior realized he hadn’t bounded into the road to help his brother. “You shouldn’t have shot him, Giddy.”

  “He deserved it. Look what he did to me. I’m cold and hungry. Sleeping in the mud.” Giddy raced up to the lawman and stepped on his arm, pinning it to the ground so he couldn’t get up. “Look at that. The rat is trying to shoot me. You’re gonna pay that for, Sheriff. Who’s in charge now?”

  Junior didn’t know what to do. A quiet plea for help shone in Milo Gray’s eyes.

  Giddy aimed his gun at the lawman’s head.

  “Don’t do it!” Junior grabbed the revolver with both hands. “We don’t need to kill him. Um, um, um, it’ll just waste a bullet, that’s it. It’s that ranch we’ve got to worry about.”

  “And that thievin’ old lady McPhee.” Giddy spit out the words, his temper red in his face. He was so mad, he shook with the force of it. “You’re right. This piece of filth ain’t worth wasting another bullet. I’ve got plans for my bullets.”

  Giddy kicked the sheriff in the side of the skull. The sheriff’s head jerked, and his body went slack. Unconscious, he lay there strewn in the mud, his coat growing red with blood.

  He wasn’t gonna die, was he? Junior didn’t know what to do. He stood there, trying to think, but thinking wasn’t his strong point.

  Giddy stole the lawman’s service revolver and the box of bullets from his pocket. He pulled money from a billfold and tossed it into the road. “Let’s go. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll be dead soon.”

  All Junior could think about was Miss Iris. She looked so happy these days, working in her bakery and driving around with her horse and buggy. He didn’t want to see her sad.

  But there wasn’t nothing he could do. Giddy grabbed him by the arm and yanked him up the road.

  Verbena McPhee Reed shook the rain off her hat, brushed it off her coat and opened the bakery’s front door. The bell overhead chimed a merry welcome as she hurried into the warmth. Hmm, it smelled good, like fresh baked cinnamon rolls and chocolate cake.

  “I hope that’s for Maebry’s shower.” She shrugged out of her coat and hung her things up on the wall pegs. “I forgot to remind Magnolia that I would be coming by early.”

  “Oops. Magnolia must have forgotten.” Rhoda offered a cheerful smile from behind the gleaming front counter. “But no worries. All that’s missing is the frosting. I’ll see if Iris can take care of that now. How about a cup of tea while you wait?”

  “Excellent idea, and I’ll get it myself. Don’t you dare even think about waiting on me.” Verbena set down her bag and her reticule on a free table and headed over to the stove. She loved her life, she loved being married to Zane and adored the little life growing inside her. She couldn’t wait to be a mother.

  She also loved this bakery. They had built it together, the five of them. They had made it something larger than themselves, and it felt satisfying. Even if Fanny Dobson had a big sign in her window across the street that read, Opening Soon!

  “Verbena!” Dottie came in from the back, carrying a tray of past-date dinner rolls. “We didn’t expect to see you yet. The cake isn’t ready. Wait, don’t pour that tea. I’ll do it. It’s my job.”

  “I’m not a customer,” Verbena argued, setting down the teapot. “Don’t you dare wait on me, Dottie. How are the new living arrangements working out?”

  “Wonderful. I like Aumaleigh’s old rooms. They’re comfortable. Except I miss all the fun at McPhee Manor, who wouldn’t? But it’s really something to have my own place. I’m really happy. I never thought so many good things would happen to me.” The sweet girl set down the tray and began carefully placing handfuls of the rolls into each of the waiting bakery boxes they would be leaving on the doorsteps of the needy families in town. “It’s like a dream.”

  “I’m so happy for you.” Verbena bypassed her teacup for the bulky bag she’d brought. “In fact, I had some extra things. Maybe you can use them in your new home.”

  “You mean it?” Dottie blinked, surprised. “Seriously?”

  Before Verbena could answer, Magnolia stumbled in the front door, looking windblown. She took one look at the bag and shook rainwater out of her blond hair. “Ooh! What did you bring? I want to see.”

  “Well, I had some extra pillow cases.” Verbena pulled out a lovely embroidered pair, snowy-white with roses embroidered in different shades of pink and yellow around the edges.

  Dottie gasped in appreciation. “They’re too beautiful to use.”

  “And a tablecloth with matching curtains.” Verbena didn’t mention she’d made them expressly for Dottie. “You mentioned how you like pink, and I remembered I had this fabric.”

  “Pink calico.” Dottie’s jaw dropped. “It’s so pretty and cheerful. I’ll be too afraid to eat at the table from now on.”

  “Oh, and here’s this extra afghan.” Verbena sighed, unfolding the light wool throw, crocheted in an open rose and leaf pattern. “It’s too small to use when Zane and I cuddle on the sofa, but it is the perfect size for one person.”

  “It’s so soft and warm.” Dottie blinked grateful tears from her eyes. “Oh, it’s too much, but thank you. It will go well with the chairs.”

  When Milo had offered to return the furniture that had been stolen by George Klemp’s sons, Iris suggested giving everything to Dottie, who didn’t have a stick of furniture to call her own. Besides, they’d already replaced what was stolen from McPhee Manor, and it seemed fitting.

  The door gusted open, the bell overhead jangled and a man came in with the cool spring wind. Lawrence Latimer swept off his Bowler hat and smiled so broadly, his handlebar mustache twitched comically.

  “Good afternoon, fair ladies.” He bowed low, showing the bald spot on the top of his head. His comb over flopped back into place as he straightened. “It’s so lovely to see you all, especially you, fairest Dottie.”

  Dottie sighed, transfixed, staring hopefully at the bachelor who closed the door and strutted over to her.

  “Perhaps I’d better go check on Iris.” Verbena grabbed her cup of tea and headed toward the kitchen door. “I need to make sure she’s frosting the cake right.”

  “I’ll go with you.” Magnolia rushed after her, perhaps eager to escape the ardent Mr. Latimer, but there was really no need.

  Lawrence’s full attention stayed riveted on Dottie.

  Verbena hesitated at the swinging door, watching the young couple.

  “Oh, aren’t they sweet?” Magnolia sidled up to her, watching too. “Look how charmed she is by him.”

  “So I see.” Amazing. Maybe Lawrence had finally found his perfect match.

  He was blushing bright red, perhaps from the pressure of
talking to a lady who was truly interested. He straightened his stooped shoulders and puffed out his narrow chest, talking away to Dottie about the fine art of bottle feeding his newborn lambs. Dottie gazed up at him, eyes bright with adoration.

  They were adorable. Somehow, between the two of them, they just…well, matched.

  “Get in here, you two.” Iris opened the door to whisper and scowl at them. “Nosy Rosies, that’s what you are.”

  “I can’t deny it.” Verbena led the way into the kitchen. “Are they adorable, or what?”

  “I say it’s about time.” Wynne, the new baker, set a pan in the sink. “If I have to cross the street one more time to avoid that man’s courting, I’m going to explode one day like a tornado. All that will be left of him is a scorch in the ground and five decimated buildings.”

  “I know the feeling,” Verbena agreed, and they all stifled their laughter.

  “Still I’ve grown fond of him.” Iris spooned a blob of frosting onto the cake and smoothed it around with a narrow spatula. “He’s so lonely, and really a good man. He’s kind to his donkey and lambs.”

  “I heard he grew up in an orphanage.” Rhoda offered, joining the group and keeping her voice low too. “He’s done well for himself, considering he started with nothing. Not one single advantage. Nor anyone to care about him.”

  “Poor Lawrence.” Magnolia crept over to the door and pushed it open an inch so she could peer out with one eye to the crack.

  “Why do I have the sudden desire to push her?” Verbena asked, and everyone burst out laughing.

  Yeah, they all may be married or about to be, but some things never changed. And that is sisters’ love for one another—one of the truest and strongest loves there is.

  The day was ticking away as Aumaleigh reined Buttons into town, wishing she had been able to keep her wits about her this morning when she’d spoken to Gabriel. She really did. Because if she had, she’d have remembered that they were having Maebry’s baby shower later and no one from the kitchen staff could be spared for the supper delivery—because they were feeding the cowboys early and going to the festivities too.

  “Ho there, Aumaleigh!” Fred called out. He must have spotted her coming down the road and had rushed out onto the boardwalk. “You look lovely today. You have a certain glow to you.”

  “It’s from all the rain.” She didn’t dare stop or Fred would do his best to get as much information out of her as he could. “Have a great afternoon, Fred!”

  “You, too!” He frowned, as if he was not at all pleased with the exchange. Likely he still had questions he wanted answers to—answers which he would share with everyone in town.

  Not that she wasn’t being stared at. Oh, she could feel the speculation in the gazes as Carl from the feed store lifted his hat to her, and Kent from the newspaper waved to her from the boardwalk. Nora Montgomery stopped her carriage in the road and waved, clearly wanting to chat.

  Aumaleigh kept on going. Maybe, if she was terribly lucky something else newsworthy would happen and happen quick. It would give folks in town something else to talk about. Really, why did folks think that a spinster was in need of a husband? Or if any man who showed her the least bit of courtesy, she was desperate enough to have him?

  Well, she wasn’t desperate. Absolutely not.

  The minute she turned the corner by the river, she knew something was wrong. Buttons shied and gave a sharp whinny. There were shadows in the road. Aumaleigh squinted to bring them into focus. It was horse standing protectively over a man—Milo Gray.

  Chapter Eleven

  She didn’t remember leaping out of her buggy, she was on her knees in the mud, terror ripping through her. There was so much blood. His chest rose and fell, and his hand reached up for hers. She grabbed hold. He felt so cold.

  “Hold on, I’m going to help you.” She looked in his eyes and saw the pain and worry. As hurt as he was, she could tell his only thought was for Iris and his girls. “You had to go and cause all this trouble, didn’t you?”

  A corner of his mouth twitched. His eyes warmed at her attempt at humor. “Every time I try to sit up on my own, I black out.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I came along to help you.” Her pulse lurched to a stop as she took in the blood. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but you look awful.”

  “I’ve been better. And if you make me laugh, it’s gonna hurt.” He stopped, swallowing hard. Cords stood up in his neck. He went ashen. “You’re gonna have to go for help. There’s no way you can carry me, and I know I can’t stand.”

  “I’m not leaving you.” Her stomach dropped, thinking of the pain he must be in. What was she going to do? She had to leave him to get help.

  And then an approaching vehicle rattled on the road behind her. Her spirits both fell and leapt at the sight of a pair of perfectly matched black horses.

  Gabriel.

  He seemed so tall sitting on the seat, with the disappearing clouds behind him and the gray sky framing him. Her heart shone like the sun fighting its way through the clouds. She fought that brightness, that light.

  Her breath hitched as he swung down from his buckboard. Somehow the worry and fear for Milo vanished as Gabriel hiked over. Calm, capable, shoulders straight, he towered over her. Awesome, just awesome.

  “Sheriff.” Gabriel planted both hands on his hips. “It looks like you got yourself into some trouble.”

  “That’s what I was just telling Aumaleigh.” Milo coughed, grimacing in pain. “This time I wasn’t even trying. Trouble found me.”

  “That happens when you’re a sheriff.” Gabriel knelt down, studying the injured man with care.

  Was it the compassion on his face that got to her? Or was it the steady, solid strength emanating from him? As if no matter what, he was prepared. He could handle anything.

  “Looks like you got lucky with that bullet wound.” Gabriel didn’t look her way as he pushed back the lapel of Milo’s duster to reveal the small round hole in his lower chest oozing blood. Slow but steady.

  She took in a deep breath. “I’ve mended my share of wounded cowboys on the ranch. Let me get some pressure on that.”

  “Aumaleigh.” Gabriel’s voice warmed, and held a hint of a warning too. “Let me handle this.”

  She opened her mouth to argue but his gaze stopped her. Steady. Authentic. Understanding. Something whispered from out of the past, words he’d once told her so often they seemed emblazoned on her brain. You’re not alone anymore. You have me. Depend on me, Aumaleigh. You’ll see I won’t let you down.

  Her head was nodding before she realized it. How had he been able to reach down deep, to the old wound inside she tried so hard to ignore?

  Gabriel knelt down and offered Milo his hand. “Aumaleigh, how close is the doctor?”

  “He’s in town, so he’s close. If he isn’t out on his rounds.” Aumaleigh watched as Gabriel wedged a hand behind the sheriff’s shoulder blades and levered him up with care.

  “We’ll take him in my buckboard.” Gabriel crossed the road to his vehicle. “My horses are faster.”

  Hard to argue with that. She climbed into the back of the buckboard, on the opposite side from Gabriel and helped ease the injured Milo onto the seat.

  “You’re treating me like I’m half dead.” Milo managed to sit up on the seat before his head began to wobble. “I can do this—well, maybe not.”

  “You’re a stubborn man, Sheriff.” Gabriel deftly eased the man all the way back onto the seat. Every movement was slow and measured, confident, as if he’d done it a hundred times before.

  “Stubborn, yep. I can’t deny it.” Milo groaned, blinking fresh blood out of his eyes.

  Aumaleigh whipped out a clean handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed that bothersome blood away. The knot on his head was the size of a walnut, and the cut running down the middle of it looked deep. She told herself that was not bone she could see. Not at all.

  “Just close your eyes,” she told him as Gabriel mo
ved in again, this time with a blanket he must have found beneath the front seat. “You’ll be in a warm bed before you know it.”

  “Thanks for finding me, Aumaleigh.” Milo blinked rapidly, like a man struggling to hold onto consciousness. “Thanks, Gabriel.”

  “No problem.” Gabriel tucked the blanket in around the sheriff, swift and sure. “Aumaleigh, stay with him. I’m going to tie up the horses.”

  “Give Buttons plenty of rein. She’ll want to graze.” She turned her attention back to Milo, but he’d passed out. His eyes were shut, he was breathing, shallow and unsteady, but he was breathing. He was strong. That was what mattered.

  The sun came out in full, throwing rays of light from sky to earth and surrounding Gabriel with that golden, rare light. Her heart threatened to tug, to fill with caring that had no end, but she was its master. She was in control.

  Besides, wasn’t it just that old caring she’d once felt for him? Like a ghost, a trace of a memory, that could never be real. Just a shadow of something that had once been so great and so strong. That’s all.

  But a part of her wasn’t so sure.

  The buckboard wobbled a bit as Gabriel hopped onto the front seat. “I’m going to need directions,” was all he said as he turned his horses around and pushed them into an all-out gallop toward town.

  The board creaked beneath his boot as he made his way down the hallway of the doctor’s house. Voices rose in the back room where he’d carried Milo, leaving him to the medical man’s care. He didn’t much like doctors.

  Muffled footsteps rushed toward him. The front door swung open. A woman appeared, her face twisted with fear and wet with tears. He stepped against the wall, giving enough room so that Iris McPhee could rush past him.

  “He’ll be okay,” he felt compelled to tell her.

  Her sob of relief was her only answer as she disappeared around the doorway.