Charity (Brides of the Rio Grande Book 4)

by Peggy McKenzie

  Miles already had a bad feeling about this. The couple who were witnesses to the botched train robbery were suddenly killed in a carriage accident? It was too much of a coincidence and he didn't believe in coincidences.

  "Miles?" Charity's hand rested on his arm. "You'll be careful won't you?"

  He looked into Charity's green eyes pleading with him to take care and a spark of fire from moments ago ignited inside of him. Without thought, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. It wasn't a soft, sweet kiss like a first kiss should be because this was the first time he had ever allowed himself the luxury of giving in to his urges. No, it wasn’t sweet. It was hot and hard and hurried. Once the initial burst of emotions passed, he stepped back and gave himself space between their heated bodies. She opened her eyes and looked at him with enough passion to incinerate them. His need for self-preservation cooled his desire.

  He didn't have time to analyze his feeling right now because he had a job to do. And it was because of that job, no matter what these feelings turned out to be, that he couldn't—he wouldn't—allow them to take root.

  He had always been careful not to let anyone get close enough to him they could get hurt. He knew it was his own fears of not being able to keep them safe that he kept everyone at arm’s length. And Charity was no different. Damn it.

  He couldn't believe he had let his defenses down. But he wouldn't happen again. It couldn't.

  "Miles, promise me, you'll be careful," her fingers squeezed his arm to emphasize her plea.

  He looked down at her hand on his arm and removed it. "I'm a lawman, Miss Montgomery. My job is to place myself between those I protect and the danger that threatens them. I can't promise anyone more than that."

  9

  Charity followed Miles out of the jail and watched as he walked down the street without another word. She stood rooted in place and stared at the back of the man who had just kissed her. She touched her lips with her fingertips. She loved him more than anything on this earth and now, she wanted him more than ever. He had kissed her.

  He disappeared into the livery stable where he kept his saddle horse. She knew in a matter of minutes, he would be saddled and riding out of town to determine what happened to cause the death of the elderly couple.

  "Miss Montgomery? Are you alright? Were you able to convince the sheriff to allow us to go on our carriage ride?" Mr. Carter stepped down and stood next to her on the boardwalk. "Where's he going in such a hurry?"

  "A couple was killed up on a mountain road north of Creede early this morning," she said still thinking about the kiss.

  "Is that a fact?" Mr. Carter stated. His lack of empathy at the couple's death was off-putting.

  "That is a fact, Mr. Carter. I would think you would be more empathetic about the news.

  "I'm sorry, Miss Montgomery. I didn't know the couple so it's hard for me to work up too much sorrow about their passing."

  Charity turned to the man. Miles's words came back to remind her he was a stranger and she didn't really know much about him at all. "Do you have family, Mr. Carter?"

  "Why do you want to know that?" Charity thought the man seemed suddenly very defensive, but she couldn't be sure. It could be his way of dealing with the situation since, again, she didn't know the man at all.

  "It was just a question, Mr. Carter. Do you have family?"

  "I do." His answer was vague, if not reluctant.

  "And do you love them, Mr. Carter?"

  He shrugged. "I suppose." She continued to stare at him. "Yeah, I love them," he admitted.

  "Then imagine that couple killed is part of your family. It puts a different perspective on their deaths, don't you think?”

  She could imagine Hiram and Aggie lying on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere needing help as they lay dying in each other's arms. “It's unthinkable." Emotions broke over her words.

  "Well, you needn't worry about that, Miss Montgomery. All of my family members are right here in town."

  “Well, that’s fine, Mr. Carter, but mine are not and I worry about them. The Hanovers were headed out today in their carriage for a picnic on the mountain. So, you see, Mr. Carter, there is always the probably of disaster around every corner."

  Mr. Carter didn't answer and instead look a little bored to be standing around talking about the deaths of someone he obviously couldn't care less about. Suddenly, she wanted to be rid of his company.

  "It seems the gloomy circumstances of this morning's events has dampened my enthusiasm for our carriage ride, Mr. Carter. Would you be terribly disappointed if we cancelled for today?" She didn't really care if he was disappointed or not, but she tried to maintain her manners toward the gentleman. A lady is never intentionally rude, she reminded herself.

  "I did spend a whole two dollars on the rental, Miss Montgomery." She found his mention of the money he spent to entertain her quite low-browed.

  "I do apologize for inconveniencing you and if you would like me to refund your money for the carriage, I'd be happy to do so." She was hoping to embarrass him into just going away and letting her be.

  "That would be very kind of you, Miss Montgomery."

  The man was actually going to allow her to pay for the carriage rental? The old Charity would have been perfectly fine with that arrangement but the new, and so-called improved Charity, found it highly insulting.

  He must have seen the shocked expression on her face and decided he was headed down the wrong road. "I'm sorry. I was only joking and I fear you have taken me seriously. My apologies." He offered her a stiff bow of his head. "I shall return the carriage. Should I reserve it again for tomorrow?"

  The man had the nerve to ask her that question after today's disastrous beginning? "I think we should just play that by ear, don't you, Mr. Carter? I have no idea what tomorrow will bring and with the death of Mr. and Mrs. Mabry, I fear I may be busy helping Mrs. Hanover and Sarah make arrangements to prepare food to take to the church for the mourners after the funeral service."

  "Well then, when will you be ready for a ride?" The man was certainly persistent and highly inappropriate.

  "Mr. Carter. I can't give you an answer right now. Please, can we talk about this later?" She was getting down right miffed at the man's persistence.

  She could see her comment didn't set well with him. He clamped his jaws down tight, the muscles in his cheeks twitched.

  "Of course." He nodded to her and climbed aboard the rented carriage without saying goodbye. He snapped the reins and the horse jumped forward then trotted down the street toward the livery.

  Charity watched him trot down the street toward the livery. Now that he was gone, her concerns for Miles returned with a vengeance.

  Deputy Bishop was inside standing guard over a train robber who made his living by killing people for their money and Miles was riding out of town into no telling what kind of danger. It seemed Miles was a bit short handed. Perhaps, he could use some help. A sudden notion struck.

  She could help out. What harm would it do if she sat on the bench outside of the boarding house just down the street and keep an eye out for any potential trouble? Who would suspect that a proper, respectable young woman sitting on a bench in broad daylight would have a gun in her pocket and be fully prepared to shoot anyone that needed shooting. If that were to become necessary, of course.

  The more Charity thought about it, the more the idea appealed to her. She turned down the boardwalk toward the Hanovers. She would change her dress to one with pockets, place her derringer inside, and then take her time strolling up and down the boardwalks of Creede. If trouble arose, she would be ready.

  Thoughts of Miles and his whereabouts made her think twice about her plan. "What harm can it do?"

  Charity quickly covered the few blocks to the Hanover home. She stepped inside to find the house quiet and unoccupied. Aggie and Hiram had already left for their day of picnic and solitude up on the mountain. Sarah had left a note on the kitchen counter that she had gone to the
market and wouldn't be back until after lunch.

  She quickly changed her dress and pushed her derringer down deep into the pocket. The voluminous folds hid her gun nicely. A shawl thrown around her shoulders, her reticle string draped over her arm and she was ready to go.

  How long would Miles be gone? She hoped not long because the more she thought about that kiss, the more hope that she was finally winning him over bubbled inside. But then his response to her plea for his promise to be careful resurfaced.

  "I'm a lawman, Miss Montgomery. My job is to place myself between those I protect and the danger that threatens them. I can't promise anyone more than that."

  He said his job was to place himself between those he protected and the danger that threatened them. Was he talking about the citizens of Creede? It was the way he said it and the look he gave her that seemed to hint at more meaning than just his words. He couldn’t promise anyone more than that? Did she count as anyone? She hoped not. She wanted to be the one he promised his heart to.

  She walked up town on the opposite side of the street from the jail so she could stop by the dry goods store on the way to her post in front of the boardinghouse cafe. Just as she stepped inside the store, a man across the street caught her attention. His hat was pulled low over his face as if he didn't want to be seen.

  She watched the man through the front glass window. He stopped at the jail's door, looked around, pulled his hat down lower and then pushed on the door. It didn't budge. Charity knew it was locked from the inside so she waited to see what the man would do next.

  If he was needing Miles or the deputy's help, he would have knocked, but he didn't knock. Instead, he looked up and down the street and then darted around the side of the building. Now what was that all about?

  Charity felt for the pistol in her pocket. Secure in its hard presence, she left the store and crossed the street. Looking down the side of the building where she saw the man disappear around the corner. She followed, one hand in her pocket. She reached the corner of the building and peeked around to see the man placing a bucket near the rear window of the jail.

  "Hey, get away from there." Charity hollered at the man. He turned toward her, his face covered by a bandana. Is this the other train robber come to get his friend out of jail? That question was answered when he pointed his gun at her and pulled the trigger.

  Miles had been in the saddle most of the morning. He arrived on the scene of this morning's carriage accident just as men were hitching the horses to the carriage to bring it back to town. The bodies of Mr. and Mrs. Mabry were stretched out in John Malone's freight wagon and respectfully covered with a tarp to hide their injuries.

  Billy Buchanan was driving the freight wagon. Miles knew that Billy had known Mr. Mabry a long time, so he headed over to talk to Billy who shut the gate to the wagon and locked it in place with the pin as he approached.

  "Billy." Miles dismounted and held his horse’s reins in his hands.

  "Sheriff." Billy nodded and glanced toward the bodies underneath the tarps in his wagon. "Sure hated to hear about Mr. Mabry and his wife. Good people. Real good people. None better." Billy was obviously sadden by the Mabry's deaths.

  "Yeah, it's a shame. Especially since Mr. Mabry was such an experienced driver. Why do you think he wasn't able to control his horses?"

  "I can tell you it wasn't Mr. Mabry that was the problem, sheriff. That man could pull a loaded freight wagon with a twenty mule team over a mountain pass and never lose a single box of cargo."

  "So, what do you think happened?" Miles suspected there might be foul play, but he needed proof before he could begin a search for the guilty party.

  "Come over here and look at this." Billy led him around the freight wagon to where the carriage was being hooked up to another team to take it back to town. Miles followed until Billy squatted next to the carriage. "Look here." Billy pointed to a broken wheel. "You see that, sheriff? That shouldn't look that way."

  Miles squatted next to Billy. He saw the busted wheel, but it just looked like a busted wheel to him. "Couldn't that have happened when the carriage turned over and the horses broke loose? Or maybe they hit a rock and that’s what caused it to break."

  "It could have except that this," Billy pointed to a crack in the rim of the wheel. "That isn't supposed to be there. Someone deliberately sawed that rim almost clean through and I think that’s what weakened the wheel. Once there's a crack, it can break into.”

  “Why do you think the wagon flipped over on them? I mean I’ve seen lots of busted wheels on carriages and people didn’t die. What’s different about this time?”

  Billy took another look at the wheel. “Honestly, sheriff. I think the horses were spooked and when the faulty wheel hit a rock or something, it cracked into. Then, the momentum from the horses flip over the carriage and caused the Mabrys’ deaths.”

  Billy had just confirmed his suspicions. Now he had to follow the trail and find the culprit who had done this to the Mabrys.

  "One more question, Billy. Do you know if this carriage was owned by the Mabrys or did they rent it in town?" Miles needed to know where to start looking.

  "As far as I know, sheriff, it belonged to Mr. Mabry.”

  "Can I fix the wheel now? I gotta get it fixed, hitch the horses up, and get back to town. I got customers waiting." The man from the livery asked.

  "Sure, Mr. Mason, go ahead.” Miles gave his permission to get the carriage back to town.

  “I don’t know who’s gonna pay for the repairs…” he glanced toward the tarps in the back of Billy's wagon, “but we can worry about that later.”

  Miles nodded his understanding and let the man do his job. He followed Billy back to the freight wagon.

  "Sheriff, there's something not addin' up here. You got any idea what's going on?"

  Billy stepped up onto the huge freight wagon's seat and unwrapped the reins from around the brake handle. The matching team of six bay drafts stomped in anticipation.

  "I don't know who's responsible, but I have an idea why this might have happened." Miles stuck his boot into his stirrup and slung his leg over his saddle.

  "It have anything to do with that train robbery a couple of days ago?" Billy looked down at Miles, worry creased his forehead.

  "It might, Billy. It just might. The Mabrys were on that train and they are...were witnesses against the man sitting in my jail. Witnesses from the other train car said the man had an accomplice who got away. If that fact is true, then it stands to reason the Mabrys may have been killed to keep them from testifying against the defendant."

  "But weren't there other witnesses? I heard tell a man and his boy were on the train too. And then there's Aggie Hanover and my wife's sister. If what you say is true, won't that mean they could be endanger too?"

  Miles looked over at Billy. "Did you hear that in town? About the witnesses, I mean."

  "Yeah, everybody in town is talking about it. Everybody knows all of the witnesses by name. It's no secret, sheriff."

  Miles knew people in a small town talked and too much of the wrong kind of talk could be bad for his witnesses.

  "Well, if the people of Creede know the identities of the witnesses, then it is not a stretch to think that the person responsible for the Mabrys death does too. That is, if our suspicions turn out to be true."

  A sudden sense of urgency hit Miles hard in the gut. Something felt off. "Billy, I need to get back to town. You got this?"

  "Yep, I'll see to it the Mabrys’ bodies get to Doc Howard's office and I'll stay with Mr. Mason to make sure he gets back to town alright. You go on, sheriff."

  Satisfied he had left the Mabry couple and the carriage rescuer in Billy's capable hands, he turned his buckskin gelding toward town and kicked him into a hard gallop. Something was wrong. Miles felt it in his bones. He leaned forward in the saddle and urged his horse to go faster. The sturdy fleet-footed big-boned quarter horse responded to his request. Soon, the gelding's strong muscled shoulders bunched an
d stretched beneath his saddle as the miles between him and town disappeared.

  10

  Charity saw the man's pistol raise a second before the bullet left the gun. She ducked behind the building just as the shot ricocheted off the wall taking a small chunk of the building’s painted surface with it.

  She grabbed for her derringer in her pocket, but by the time she could grasp it and step around the corner, the man had fled down the alley and disappeared out of sight. If she had been wearing britches, she could have run him down, but with these troublesome skirts, she knew she didn't have a chance in catching him.

  "Hold it right there. Put your hands in the air and turn around real slow like or I'll plug you full of holes where you stand." Deputy Bishop's voice demanded.

  Charity did as he asked. Hands in the air, she pivoted to face him. "Deputy Bishop, it's me. Don't shoot."

  The shocked surprise on his face would have been comical if Charity was in the mood for funny. She wasn't. "I saw a man try to open the door to the jail. When he couldn’t get in, he went around the side of the building.”

  "What the hell are you doing here, Miss Montgomery? You are gonna get yourself killed." Deputy Bishop holstered his sidearm and fisted his hands on his hips in confusion. "You really shouldn't be here," he admonished.

  "I wasn't here, so to speak. I was across the street at the dry good store when I saw a man trying to get into the jail. When he couldn't get in, he snuck around back. So, I followed him, and—"

  "You followed him? You followed a strange man that you thought was acting suspicious behind a building into the alley? Alone?"

  It didn't sound as smart when the deputy said it out loud as it had when she had thought it was a good idea.

  "I know, I can hear the mistake in it now, but at the time, I was sure the man was up to no good. And I was right. I watched him put a bucket up to the jail window at the rear of the jail before he shot at me."