Rogue Gunslinger & Hunting Down the Horseman

by B. J Daniels

  * * *

  AFTER THE DANCE, Eve Bailey Jackson got on the phone again. Carter was working late tonight at the sheriff’s department—some annual report or something or other.

  “I don’t like you staying home alone so much,” Carter had said earlier. His gaze said he knew about the list of phone numbers, knew the long hours she’d spent gathering them—and calling trying to find her birth mother.

  He’d seemed about to say something else but changed his mind. Eve knew he worried that she’d never quit looking for her birth mother and that her unfulfilling quest would sour her and their life together. Or worse, that she’d find her mother and be even more disappointed.

  Eve had gone through the long list of C. Small numbers, each time telling herself that this would be the call that would end it.

  Now as she started to dial yet another, she felt her heart pound with anticipation and fear. This was the last number on the list.

  If this number was another dead end, then it was a sign, she told herself. Her fingers shook as she tapped in each number, a silent prayer on her lips and tears in her eyes as she promised herself this would be the last of it. Her search would end here.

  Like her brother, she would move on. Carter wanted to have children. He wanted the two of them to get on with their lives.

  She made a solemn promise to herself as the phone at the other end of the line began to ring. She’d run out of options and couldn’t bear any more dead ends. She would give up her search for the mother who’d given her and Bridger away. This had to stop.

  “No more,” she said under her breath as the phone rang once, twice, three times and then, just when Eve was about to hang up, give up for good, a female voice answered.

  “Hello?”

  Eve had to clear her throat. “Is this Mrs. Small?”

  “Yes?”

  “My name is Eve Bailey Jackson. I’m trying to locate a Constance Small who lived near Whitehorse, Montana, thirty-four years ago.”

  “Constance?” the woman repeated. The line went dead.

  As hard as she tried to hold them back, Eve felt the tears flow down her cheeks. Another dead end. Her last.

  * * *

  THE CALL CAME out of the blue. Mary Ellen was in the middle of baking cookies for the church fund-raiser. Quickly dusting the flour from her hands, she answered the phone with a cheerful, “Hello.”

  “Mary Ellen?”

  “What’s wrong, Mother?”

  “I got another one of those calls about Constance.” Her mother was crying. “After all these years...I just can’t bear it. I know it’s just another prank call, someone wanting money, like the others professing to have information about Constance.”

  “It’s all right, Mother.” But Mary Ellen feared it wasn’t. As she’d said, it had been years. Why would someone be calling now?

  “I took down the woman’s number from caller ID. She said her name was Eve Bailey Jackson. She was calling from Montana.”

  Mary Ellen drew up a chair and sat down hard.

  “She sounded nice.” Her mother thought everyone was nice. “But I just can’t do it. Would you call her?” Her mother began to cry, and Mary Ellen hated this Eve Bailey Jackson.

  “I’ll take care of it. I’m sure it’s just as you say—nothing. So don’t worry yourself over it.”

  For years Mary Ellen had feared this day would come. But as time had gone by, she’d started to think that the truth would never come out.

  “Bless you, dear. Here’s her phone number.”

  Mary Ellen listened as her mother rattled off the Whitehorse, Montana, telephone number, but she didn’t write it down. She had no intention of returning the call. She told herself she was doing them all a favor as she hung up the phone.

  Turning back toward the kitchen, she saw black smoke billowing from the oven. She’d burned the cookies for the church fund-raiser. Only then did she let herself break down.

  Chapter Four

  The prairie glistened in the morning sun, tall green grasses undulating in the slight breeze, the smell of summer sharp and sweet. Overhead, puffy white clouds floated in a crystalline blue sky.

  Faith saw the plume of dust curling up off the dirt road that ran through Old Town Whitehorse past the Bailey Ranch.

  She watched as the vehicle slowed, squinting into the morning sun as a vaguely familiar pickup pulled to a stop in front of the house.

  “Is that Jud Corbett?” Eve asked from behind her as the cowboy climbed out of the truck. Tilting his Stetson back, he walked toward the front door.

  Faith cursed under her breath. Jud Corbett hadn’t taken her warning to stay away. The man was impossible. What could he want? Not to help protect her secrets, she’d bet money on that.

  Faith hurried out on the porch and down the steps to cut him off. He was tall and muscled, but there was grace and fluidity to his movements. She easily recognized him in the movies where he did the stunts. There was just something about him. A confidence.

  Arrogance, she thought now.

  He saw her and slowed as if only now thinking twice about coming here. His mistake.

  “I thought we had an understanding?” she demanded through gritted teeth as she faced him.

  He grinned then, his eyes sparkling with humor. “Did we?” He took a step toward her. She took two back. “Do I scare you?”

  “Of course not,” she snapped, a clear lie. What was it about him that made her feel she always had to be on guard around him? She knew the answer to that one, actually.

  “Fearless, are you? Then you’re just the woman I’m looking for.”

  She irritably brushed away his words like a cobweb in her path. “Do not even try to charm me. I can assure you it won’t work.” Another lie.

  “That wasn’t charm. That was honesty.” He said the words simply, and if she hadn’t known better, she might have believed him. “I need to talk to you about something that will make you very happy.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “If this is about breakfast—”

  He laughed. “While I would hope breakfast with me would make you more than very happy, that’s not it.” The grin faded. “Could we talk somewhere?”

  Eve was just inside, probably watching them from the window.

  “Down by the creek,” Faith said, and turned toward the copse of cottonwoods that stood along the banks. She planned to set the man straight once and for all. The last thing she needed was him showing up on her doorstep again.

  While he’d promised to keep her secret, she knew given the way he’d blackmailed her into dancing with him last night that he couldn’t be trusted. What was he doing here? And what could he possibly have to talk to her about? Whatever it was, she was on her guard. She wouldn’t put anything past him.

  When they reached the creek and were out of sight of the house, she turned to face him, hands on hips, her expression as impatient as she could make it.

  “This had better be good,” she warned him.

  “Our stunt double was bitten by a rattlesnake this morning. She isn’t going to be able to finish the shoot.”

  “Brooke Keith?” Faith said on a surprised breath. She’d heard that the stuntwoman was working on the film. An old flame of Jud’s, according to the tabloid movie magazines.

  He raised a brow. “You know her?”

  “Know of her. I’ve read about her.” The moment those words were out, Faith wanted to snatch them back.

  Jud’s brows shot up. “So that’s it. You don’t really believe that stuff Hollywood gossip rags print, do you?” He shook his head as if disappointed in her.

  “Where there’s smoke, there is usually fire,” she said, grimacing at how much she sounded like her sister Eve.

  “Look, I’d like to try to convince you that you’re all wrong about me, but I don’t have the time,”
Jud said. “We need someone to fill in for Brooke and finish the film. There are only a few more days of stunts to be shot. I suggested you to our director.”

  He rushed on. “The director checked and found out that you already have a SAG card.” His gaze narrowed. “Apparently you’ve done some ride-on parts in movies, not stunts, just horse-related shots—this woman who shuns the spotlight.”

  He held up his hand to stop her from commenting. It was a wasted effort on his part. She’d opened her mouth, but nothing had come out. A small gust of wind could have knocked her over.

  Jud Corbett hadn’t just known her secret heart’s desire—he’d just offered it to her.

  “If you pass this up,” he said. “You’ll regret it the rest of your life.”

  “I...”

  “Just think about it.” He thrust a business card into her hand. “My cell phone number’s on it. I’ll just need to know by noon.” With that he turned and walked away, leaving her too stunned to move.

  * * *

  DIRECTOR ERIK ZANDER couldn’t believe his bad luck. Just the thought made him curse as he poured Scotch into his fourth cup of coffee of the morning. Probably wasn’t the best way to start the day, but what the hell, given the way his life was going.

  Last night Keyes Hasting had called.

  “I heard about the film you’re making and am intrigued,” Hasting said. “You don’t mind if I come up.”

  Like hell he didn’t mind, but he’d been too shocked to say so, especially when Hasting had added, “The theme of this film is close to my heart. Retribution, isn’t it?”

  Those last words registered like a gun to his head.

  “I heard your stuntwoman was bitten by a rattlesnake,” Hasting had said. “I hope you can find someone else so you can finish the film.”

  “My stunt coordinator has someone in mind,” he’d said, all the time thinking, That son of a bitch Hasting has a spy on the set.

  Hasting was an old reprobate with too much money and alleged mob connections. Zander had hung up the phone and gotten skunk drunk. And this morning, hungover, he was dreading Hasting’s visit like a root canal.

  Snapping open his cell phone, Zander checked to see if Jud had called. No voice mail. Jud had promised to let him know the moment he had a verbal agreement from the new stuntwoman. Why hadn’t he heard something yet?

  Fortunately, he would be able to shoot around the problem today, but by tomorrow when Hasting arrived...

  “Anyone seen Jud Corbett?” Zander bellowed as he stepped out of his trailer, wishing he’d never laid eyes on the script for this film. It had arrived on his doorstep. Along with a blackmail threat.

  * * *

  FAITH WAS STILL standing by the creek when Jud Corbett drove away in his pickup. He had her stirred up good, and no matter how hard she tried to put him—and his offer—out of her mind, she couldn’t.

  She’d always dreamed of being a stuntwoman, specializing like many did with horse trick riding.

  But it had only been a dream. She’d told herself her riding gave her so much pleasure, she didn’t need to take it any further. Only men like Jud Corbett needed the applause and exaltation.

  But he’d called her on it and now the truth was out. She wanted this more than she’d ever wanted anything, she thought, as she walked back toward the house. She’d just never admitted it. Until now.

  Faith looked up to see her sister waiting on the porch for her, a worried look on her face. Faith swallowed and said, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  As she took a seat beside Eve, she spilled it all, the years of practice and Jud Corbett’s offer—her most secret of all desires.

  “I wondered how long it would take you to tell me,” Eve said when Faith had finished.

  “You knew?”

  “Oh, Faith, I’ve known since that time when you were a girl and you broke your arm. I’d hoped you would outgrow it. I was afraid for you. But when you didn’t... It’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”

  She nodded, tears in her eyes. “When we were kids, I thought you’d tell Mother, then after I went away to college, I just didn’t want to worry you.”

  “You’ve been headed in this direction for a long time.”

  Just as Jud had said, in college Faith had done some ride-on parts in movies being filmed around Bozeman. None involved stunts, though.

  “Don’t think it doesn’t worry me,” her sister continued. “Stunt work is dangerous.”

  “It can be,” Faith allowed. “You have to use your head, expect things to go wrong. It’s all part of it.”

  Eve shook her head. “McKenna will probably have a fit, not to mention what Mother will have to say about it. But Dad, well, he’ll just be proud of you.”

  Faith smiled. If she had expected anyone to have a fit, it was Eve. Life was just full of surprises. She hugged her older sister. “Thank you. I have to call Jud and tell him I’ll do it.”

  “You hadn’t already agreed?” Eve asked in surprise.

  “I wanted to talk to you first.”

  Tears welled in her sister’s eyes. “I would never stand in your way. But just so you know, I intend to be on that set every day you’re doing a stunt.”

  Faith laughed and went to make the call. Jud answered on the first ring as if he’d been waiting for her call.

  “So you’re going to do it,” he said before she could say a word. He sounded pleased, an underlying excitement in his voice that tripped something inside her.

  “You’re that sure I can do this?” she had to ask.

  He chuckled. “You know you can or you wouldn’t have called me back.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that.”

  “We resume shooting in the morning, but come over this afternoon. I’ve made sure there will be a trailer here for you to stay in so you’ll be ready for early shoots. Bring your horse. There will be time to get in some riding.”

  He had everything arranged already? “What if I hadn’t called?”

  “I saw you ride, remember? You and I are cut from the same cloth.”

  “Except I will never be as cocky as you are.”

  He laughed. “Trust me, you already are.” She could tell he was smiling. “This is a great break for you. I’m as excited about it as I was when I did my first film.”

  Faith swallowed, thinking that her break had come at the expense of the stuntwoman who’d been bitten by a rattlesnake and said as much.

  “Brooke’s going to be fine. The doctor said she’s one of those rare cases. She had an adverse reaction to the snakebite antidote. Fortunately, we have a helicopter on the set and rushed her to the hospital.”

  “Once she gets better, she’ll want her job back,” Faith said, worried that was true.

  “Nope. You’ll be doing what’s left of her stunt work for the remainder of the shoot. She talked the director into hiring her as assistant stunt coordinator. She can’t do stunts, but she can help set them up.”

  Faith swallowed back her guilt at that news. She couldn’t help but be anxious and thrilled at the same time. Jud had seen to everything. “Are you always so accommodating?” she asked only half-joking.

  “I made an exception just for you. I should warn you,” he added, “this film is pretty low budget. As well as doing stunts, I’m also the stunt director. But don’t worry. I think you’ll be pleased with what I got you for pay.”

  As if she wouldn’t have done it for free, Faith thought.

  “Celebrate,” Jud said.

  Again she felt that small insistent thrill that seemed to warm her blood. “Jud?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you.”

  He laughed. “Thank me after this film is over. This will either cure you of your need to trick ride or—”

  “Or kill me?” she asked with a nervous laugh
.

  “Or hook you so badly you won’t want to ever quit,” he said. “Either way, you may not thank me when it’s over.”

  She wondered about that as she hung up and felt like pinching herself. Her secret desire was about to be realized. She just had to be careful that Jud Corbett didn’t ignite any other secret desires in her.

  As she started to leave, she noticed some wadded-up papers in the wastebasket near the phone. She pulled one out and saw that it was the list of numbers for Constance Small and C. Small. Every name had been scratched out.

  Dropping the paper back into the trash, she glanced toward the porch where Eve was still sitting and felt an overwhelming sadness for her sister. If only her dreams could come true.

  * * *

  MARY ELLEN HATED FLYING. She’d brought along some needlepoint for the flight, but she hadn’t touched it. Her mind was reeling. What did she hope to accomplish by flying to Montana? Just the thought of returning to Whitehorse made her blood run cold.

  Had she been able, she would have gotten off the plane and gone home where she belonged. But as she felt the plane begin its descent into Billings, Mary Ellen knew she’d come too far to turn back now. She had to see why after all these years someone would call about Constance.

  There would be a rental car waiting for her at the airport on the rock rims above Montana’s largest city, but she was arriving so late that she planned to spend the night and drive the three hours to Whitehorse in the morning.

  From Billings she could drive north through Roundup and Grass Range, the only two towns for hundreds of miles between Billings and Whitehorse. Roundup was small, and Grass Range was even smaller.

  Mary Ellen tightened her seat belt and closed her eyes. She hated cold even more than flying. At least it was July in Montana. Had it been winter like the last time she was in Whitehorse, Mary Ellen knew she wouldn’t have come.

  It would be hard enough returning to the past.

  As the plane began its descent into Billings, Mary Ellen wished she were on speaking terms with God. But she suspected any prayers from her would be futile given all her sins—her greatest sin committed in Whitehorse, Montana, thirty-four years ago.