Trail of Passion (Hot on the Trail Book 7)

by Merry Farmer

  All at once, Gideon jerked back on the pole, the way he would if a fish had bitten. The prairie dog let out a low squeal, thrashing and struggling in the line, thoroughly caught.

  “It worked,” Lucy exclaimed, jumping to her feet.

  “It worked, it worked,” Alvin echoed her, leaping up and running toward the prairie dog, dangling on the end of the line.

  “Careful,” Gideon cautioned him as he reeled the line in. The loop had caught tight around its middle, and now the hapless thing swung and jerked wildly on the end of the line.

  “You caught him, you caught him,” Alvin exclaimed in amazement. “How did you do that?”

  “With your slip-knot,” Gideon said.

  The prairie dog continued to make plaintive squealing sounds. They shot straight to Lucy’s heart. “Oh, let it go,” she begged Gideon. “It sounds like it’s in pain.”

  “You don’t let it go if you’re going to eat it,” Alvin explained to her.

  She shook her head, pressing a hand to her stomach. “I said I didn’t want to eat prairie dog, and I definitely don’t want to eat one now. Look at the poor thing.”

  They all did, though Lucy was fairly sure the boys didn’t see the same furry, fuzzy cuteness of the wild animal that she did. They probably saw a prize they’d won, a tasty prize.

  “You’re sure you don’t want to eat it?” Gideon asked.

  “Absolutely, positively certain,” she said.

  “All right.” To Alvin he said, “Careful. It might be more dangerous to let it go than it was to catch it.”

  With Alvin watching, he set the fishing rod down and stepped on the line to keep the prairie dog from running off and taking half the line with it. Foot over foot, he walked along the line until only a few yards were left. The prairie dog was terrified, and even though it had stopped thrashing as soon as it was on the ground again, it panted madly, teeth bared. Gideon reached into his back pocket and took out the knife he’d used to carve Graham’s wooden leg. Lucy said a quick prayer of thanks that men did such silly things as carrying knives in their pockets.

  With a quick, cautious movement, Gideon hooked the knife under the fishing line and jerked up. The line broke, and instantly the prairie dog dashed toward its hole. It disappeared from sight in a flash.

  “Will the line hurt it?” she asked.

  “No, it’s a slip-knot. Chances are it will be able to wriggle out in a few minutes,” Gideon explained.

  “It was a good trap, though,” Alvin said. He actually had a smile for Gideon for a change. “You’re good at traps. I bet you could catch anything.”

  Gideon laughed. “I don’t know about that.”

  But as they headed back to camp, the sun casting long shadows in front and behind them, Gideon grew silent, thoughtful. He wore a look on his face that Lucy was coming to know meant something was brewing in his mind.

  They made it back to the camps in time to help themselves to a supper that Estelle had prepared. Alvin rushed back to the Jackson’s camp, telling anyone who would listen along the way about fishing for prairie dogs. It wasn’t until Lucy and Gideon were sitting side-by-side, devouring their meals, that he spoke.

  “Lucy, I’ve been thinking,” he said. “How would you feel about setting a trap for a would-be murderer?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  A trap. And not just any trap—a trap to catch a murderer. Now there was something really and truly dangerous.

  Of course, Lucy dove into the planning with abandon.

  “We need something fool-proof,” she whispered across the campfire to Estelle and Graham, Josephine and Pete, Olivia and Charlie a few nights later. “Something irresistible that will encourage Mr. Diver to finish the job he started.”

  “Finish the job of doing away with Gideon?” Charlie balked.

  “Are you certain that Mr. Diver is guilty in the first place?” Olivia asked.

  “Well,” Gideon began, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing in the firelight.

  “Yes,” Lucy spoke for him. “Who else could it be? Mr. Diver has a motive, he had the opportunity, and no one saw him the night of the fire or the night Gideon’s chemicals were smashed.”

  “But it doesn’t seem to fit with Mr. Diver’s character,” Olivia said, picking at the fabric of her apron as she did.

  Lucy sat straighter, blinking at her friend. “What do you mean, ‘his character?’ He barely smiles, he’s hardly said a word to me or Gideon, and he keeps staring at the two of us all the time.”

  “You have to admit, Lucy, a lot of people have been staring at the two of you lately,” Graham added with an apologetic flush. “You’ve, uh, been giving people something to stare at.”

  Lucy’s cheeks went hot, though she didn’t have time to worry if it was from anger or embarrassment. “Yes, well, people should learn to mind their own business.”

  “This isn’t about Lucy and me,” Gideon spoke up before anyone else could venture an opinion on the matter. “It’s about making sure that no further damage is done, to me or to my belongings or to anyone else on the wagon train. A simple trap to lure whoever is responsible for these incidents into acting out in the open should provide all the proof we need.”

  “I agree about that much,” Olivia sighed, “but I still think you’re accusing the wrong man. Mr. Diver is so good with the children, so helpful.”

  “What?” Lucy snapped, so surprised she was nearly offended.

  Olivia shrugged and spread her hands. “He’s been helping me with the trail school this past week. He says being around children is a comfort to him.”

  “More like being around children is the perfect alibi,” Lucy grumbled.

  Gideon touched her arm. It was gentle and well-meant, but it was a scolding all the same. She crossed her arms and sank into her seat, fighting off the niggling worry that she might be in the wrong. After all, Alvin had said that Mr. Diver helped him with his sums. Alvin liked the man.

  “I don’t want to discount anybody’s theories,” Gideon spoke into the silence that had fallen. “I also don’t want to spend the rest of this journey worried about whether someone is going to set Lucy’s wagon on fire or show up with a gun in the middle of the night or poison our water because they have something against me. I would do anything to keep her safe.”

  Lucy’s grumpiness melted into an ache of affection in her gut. He cared that much about her? She reached across to squeeze his hand, and he squeezed back.

  “Sure is a shame that we left Rev. Kilpatrick back at Ft. Laramie,” Pete mumbled on Gideon’s other side. Before anyone could react to that comment, he took a deep breath and said, “I don’t like the fact that bad things are happening on my last wagon train. I’m not all that crazy about the idea of randomly accusing people, but I’m not opposed to setting something up to try to draw whoever is up to no good out of hiding. So if you want to try something, then I’ll support it, as long as no one gets hurt.”

  “Thank you.” Gideon nodded to Pete. “And thanks to the rest of you for being willing to help.”

  “That’s what friends are for.” Graham smiled, nodding across the circle of their camp to Gideon.

  If only the rest of them were as enthusiastic. Olivia continued to look doubtful as Gideon discussed ideas for how to attract someone who wished him harm. Charlie seemed distracted—constantly glancing over his shoulder and peering into the dark as though bandits were about to swoop down on him. Estelle got up to put Tim to bed, taking her out of the conversation entirely. That left Graham, Pete, and Josephine to help hatch ideas.

  The next day was a Sunday, and in spite of the fact that they didn’t have a minister with them anymore, Pete declared that they would stop for a day of rest. It was a natural step from there to put the plan in motion. Since the fire, Pete had shifted tactics and ordered Lucy to park her wagon right in the middle of the cluster of pioneers. It prevented her and Gideon from getting up to no good at night, but it also meant that everyone could see if the wagon was ap
proached. Now he quietly suggested that they park her wagon up a slight rise, a few yards away from the rest.

  “This works perfectly,” Gideon said as Lucy dressed for the short worship service scheduled for that morning. “If anyone asks why we parked so far from everyone else, we can tell them it’s because I’m concerned about the fumes from making more chlorine this afternoon.”

  “I’m still amazed that you can make chlorine,” Lucy told him, hopping out the back of the wagon and taking his arm.

  Gideon started toward the circle of benches that had been set up for the service. “I can’t actually make liquid chlorine or chlorine gas out here, not with such a small generator, but chances are Mr. Diver doesn’t know that.”

  “You sure he’ll try to stop you?”

  Gideon shrugged. “If he was willing to risk destroying all of my chemicals before, I can’t see how he’d just sit idly by while I make more.”

  Almost everyone from the wagon train was in attendance at the church service. Gideon and Lucy took seats on the end of one of the benches as others wandered around greeting each other. A few people came to talk to them, but women like Viola kept their distance, turning up their noses every time Lucy smiled at their sour looks.

  “I still can’t believe she would dare to accuse the orphans of trying to kill you,” Lucy muttered after one particularly sharp look.

  “Viola Riley is an unhappy woman. Misery makes people sour,” Gideon sighed. He glanced in the other direction, then said, “I’m going to go help Graham. It looks like his leg is bothering him.”

  Gideon got up, leaving Lucy sitting where she was. She’d never minded sitting alone. It gave her a chance to think things over, to figure things out. What would they do once they caught Leopold? There wasn’t a jail for miles, as far as she knew. They were getting closer to her father’s ranch, but that was still more than a week off.

  Papa. She sighed. It would be so good to see him again. And Aunt Virginia, and even Franklin. She couldn’t wait to run through the fields of the ranch, to ride her horse astride, like Aunt Virginia did. She couldn’t wait to introduce Gideon to her family either. He would love them, and they would love him.

  Her warm smile faltered as another thought hit her. Assuming Gideon did want to marry her—and he still hadn’t asked or even talked about it with her for days—what kind of life could a scientist have on a ranch? Sure, he knew how to ride a horse, but would he really want to leave his research and his hopes of helping people purify water sources in the West just to be with her?

  “Hey, Miss Lucy.” In the middle of her worrisome turn of thoughts, Alvin plopped down on the bench next to her. “You look sad,” he said, then frowned. “Is Dr. Faraday being mean to you?”

  “No, sweetheart.” She relaxed into a sigh, leaning toward him to ruffle his hair and kiss his forehead. “He’s very nice to me.”

  Alvin wasn’t convinced. “I think you should kick him out of your wagon.”

  “You do?” She tried not to grin.

  “Yeah. Mrs. Jackson says he’s no good, and that you’re fast.”

  Lucy’s cheeks splashed with pink. “Well, Mrs. Jackson shouldn’t be talking out of turn.”

  “That’s what Mr. Diver said.”

  Lucy’s jaw dropped. “Mr. Diver?”

  “Yeah. He said that young folks should be young, and life was too short to hold back.”

  There was nothing she could say to that. It was a lovely, forgiving sentiment, but from Leopold Diver? It couldn’t be. The man was vicious, nasty. He was trying to kill Gideon for revenge. Why would he say something so sweet?

  Unless Alvin was mistaken somehow.

  Before Lucy could make heads or tails of it, Gideon returned.

  “That’s taken care of,” he said with a smile. He turned that smile to Alvin. “Excuse me, son, you’re in my seat.”

  Alvin crossed his arms and glared up at Gideon. “It’s not your seat. I was here first.”

  Gideon continued to smile, but it was strained. “Actually, I was here earlier, then went to help Lt. Tremaine.”

  “He was,” Lucy added. “But I’ll scoot over and you can sit on my other side.”

  “Okay,” Alvin grumbled.

  Gideon sat, Lucy scooted over, and Alvin took a seat on her other side. The layman who had asked to lead the service came forward and invited everyone to sit. Lucy did her best to smile and pay attention, but her thoughts were scattered to the winds.

  Had they gotten things wrong in this situation? Was Leopold Diver truly as nice as everyone said he was? And if he wasn’t the one who tried to hurt Gideon, who was?

  To say that Gideon was uncertain about the trap they were setting and about the entire ordeal was an understatement.

  “I don’t know what else to do,” he told Lucy as he set up his generator, a jar of salt dissolved in water, and a few other pieces of scientific equipment that would help their illusion on the tailgate of his wagon. “Maybe I should just let the whole thing go.”

  “Hmm,” Lucy replied. She leaned her backside against the corner of the tailgate and stood chewing on a fingernail. The fact that she didn’t instantly rush to tell him how brilliant their plan was concerned him.

  “What is it?” he asked. He put his tools down and turned to her.

  She took a long time to reply. “Gideon, do you think you’d be happy living on a ranch?”

  Swirls of a whole other kind of emotion from the ones that had kept him up the last few nights flooded him. “It depends,” he told her honestly. He slid down to the end of the tailgate beside her, leaning at her side, arms crossed.

  “On what?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “On what kinds of jobs need doing on a ranch. On what kinds of towns are nearby and what I might do for them. On who I was living on a ranch with.”

  She turned her face up to him on the last comment. Her worried expression shifted to a weak smile. “Would you really be happy way out in the middle of nowhere in Wyoming with just me?”

  He bumped her with his shoulder. “But it’s not just you. It’s your father, Howard Haskell of Wyoming, too. And your intrepid Aunt Virginia.”

  “And Franklin,” she added, her weak smile gaining strength.

  He moved an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. “There’s a wealth of things I could do with the knowledge I have. I don’t have to focus on traveling the land, purifying water sources for people. I could work for a mining company or the railroad, or something else I haven’t even thought of yet.”

  He paused, glancing out across the wagon train and on to the western horizon. The plains around them, the grasslands and the mountains beyond, were so foreign to the world he’d grown up in. The complete lack of civilization and its trappings was actually a relief. In the West, no one would hound him to use his knowledge for evil, or at least not on a scale that the army had back East. Out here, he truly could leave his past sins behind him and focus on making people’s lives better. The West was full of hope and promise, just like everyone said it would be.

  “Besides,” he went on. “You know enough about ranching for the both of us.”

  “That’s true,” she chuckled, leaning into him and resting her head against his shoulder.

  “So you could be the one to run a ranch, like your Aunt Virginia, and I could stay home and raise the children.”

  “Children?” Her voice shook with emotion.

  “Of course.” He shifted her in his arms and tilted her chin up so that he could kiss her lips. “Children love you. Just look at Alvin. He’d do anything for you. I can’t imagine the two of us being together without having half a dozen children at least.”

  She laughed, the sound downright wicked. “I can’t imagine it either, especially with all the fun we’ll have making those children.”

  “It will be perfect.” He captured her lips in a kiss, pressing her body closer to his, molding his hands across her back. Never in a million years would he have guessed he had so much passion
in him, but somehow, Lucy brought it out of him. With her, he was the most passionate lover anyone could imagine.

  “Gideon, Lucy.” Pete’s low call broke them out of their embrace. They both twisted to see him striding toward them. “Just thought you two should know that Diver just set off for a walk. Looks like now’s the time to test your trap.”

  “Right.” Gideon nodded, peeling himself away from Lucy.

  He turned to take another look at his equipment. The generator was in plain sight, all of the wires hooked up as they should be, leading into the jar of salt water. A few spare jars of liquid chlorine sat out as well. Everything was in order.

  “Here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver locket that must belong to Leopold.

  “What’s that?” Pete asked.

  Gideon handed the locket over to Pete. “This was found in my wagon, after the chlorine was destroyed but before the fire.”

  Pete opened the locket, then let out a low whistle when he saw the photographs inside. “Well, I’ll be. Maybe you’re onto something with Diver after all. It doesn’t look good when something this valuable that clearly belongs to you is found in someone else’s things.” He handed the locket back.

  “No it doesn’t,” Gideon agreed. He set the locket down on the tailgate, next to his equipment. “Maybe this will help speed things along.”

  “Bait for the trap?” Lucy asked.

  “Yes.”

  There was nothing else to prepare. Gideon took Lucy’s hand, started away from the wagon as Pete walked off, and made a comment about going for a walk as they reached the edge of the other wagons and camps. Then he and Lucy circled back through the camps to where Estelle had parked one of the crew wagons within sight of Lucy’s exposed wagon. Checking to be sure no one was paying close attention, he and Lucy climbed up into the wagon bed, then closed the canvas to hide them.

  “That went well,” Graham commented. He was already in place, watching Lucy’s wagon and Gideon’s things through a slit in the canvas. “I haven’t noticed anyone taking a look or going near your things yet. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.”