After a few moments of silence in the bedroom, the sheriff released a heavy sigh. “Then I have no other choice but to believe you.”
“Thank you, Sheriff. I hope you find the knife’s owner soon. I’m sure there is a good explanation to why there is blood on the blade.”
She quickly pulled away from the wall and entered the room. When the sheriff nearly collided with her, she jumped out of the way.
“Hello, Mrs. Clayborne.” Sheriff Knight grinned. “It’s good to see you today.”
“And you, as well.” She motioned toward Grange. “My uncle and I are coming to get Mr. Baxter and take him back to the house.”
“Oh, that’s right.” The sheriff’s eyes widened. “You and Mr. Baxter are good childhood friends.”
She chuckled. “Well, I wouldn’t say that, however, we knew each other while growing up.”
The other man glanced behind her into the other room. “Where is your uncle?”
“He’s bringing the wagon around as we speak.”
“Splendid.” The sheriff looked over his shoulder at Grange. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Grange nodded. “Good day, Sheriff Knight.”
The sheriff tipped his hat to Sabine. “Good day, Mrs. Clayborne.”
“Good day.” She watched the lawman walk out of the office, and once the door closed behind him, she hurried to Grange. He looked at her differently, and she didn’t exactly like the smirk on his handsome face.
“So, I’m going home with you?” His grin widened.
“With a few conditions, which I’ll have to hurry and tell you before my uncle arrives.”
Grange nodded. “Proceed.”
“I’m in charge of what happens to my father’s keepsake, and nobody else.”
“I can let you be in charge,” Grange said.
She folded her arms. “And we will both try to find Foster Powell and have him arrested.”
“That’s exactly what I think, too.”
“Once the man is in jail, you will leave Belle, Wyoming and never come back.”
He cocked his head. “Never?”
Her heart fluttered. Why would he want to stay here, anyway? “Grange, there’s no reason for you to come back.”
“But what if I find a piece of land to buy and start a stud farm?”
Sabine rolled her eyes. “Will you be serious?”
“Fine.” He relaxed back on his pillows, keeping his gaze on her.
“And one more thing,” she said with a catch in her voice that made her clear her throat. “We will get a divorce as soon as we can.”
Silence grew in the room as they had a staring contest. It was hard to admit that was what she wanted, only because she knew she didn’t want to be married to a man who would never love her.
As she prepared to list the reasons a divorce would be a good idea, the door to the office opened and heavy footsteps shook the floor. She looked over her shoulder just as her uncle walked into Grange’s room. Inwardly, she groaned. She would have to find another time to speak with Grange alone as this discussion needed to be private – for both their sakes.
SIX
Grange gnashed his teeth against the pain as Sabine’s uncle helped him into the wagon. It was rather nice to have Sabine on the other side of him as she assisted her uncle. Grange found it strange that she was having a difficult time meeting his gaze. Ever since she’d mentioned a divorce...
“Lean him up against those blankets,” Gerald told Sabine. “Mr. Baxter, my niece will sit back here with you to help hold you upright.”
“Thank you, sir.” Grange grimaced, holding his arm next to his wound. He really hated feeling this helpless.
Once he was settled against the blankets with Sabine next to him, Gerald climbed up to the driver’s seat and took the horse’s reins. Slowly, the wagon rolled away from the doctor’s office.
Grange glanced down at Sabine, frowning. He couldn’t blame her for wanting a divorce. He hadn’t been a good husband. Sadly enough, he hadn’t wanted to be one. He’d had hopes and dreams of becoming the best bounty hunter around. Eventually, he’d earned a good name, but he’d always felt guilty for leaving Sabine. With her family gone, she had needed him, and he hadn’t come through for her. He’d never had to comfort a woman who was grieving, and he thought at the time that he was only making her feel worse.
She had deserved better than him – even if it was one of the rich men her father had tried to get her to marry.
But now... could he divorce her? If that’s what she truly wanted, then he would. Of course, knowing Sabine, she’d still tell everyone that she was a widow.
As they rode through town, many townspeople shouted greetings to Gerald and Sabine. Grange watched her face light up as she waved. It bothered him because he hadn’t seen her eyes twinkle since before they were married. She had the most amazing eyes, and when they’d lit up like stars, he’d lost his mind and kissed her.
In the years since they’d been separated, had she found another man to kiss... another man who would make her eyes twinkle? His stomach tightened and his heart clenched. He placed his hand on his chest, grumbling to himself. It must have been something he’d eaten at the doctor’s office.
“Are you all right?” Sabine asked, glancing at his hand on his chest before looking up at him.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“We didn’t have much time to talk before my uncle came in,” she said in a softer voice, “but I do want to continue our conversation.”
He nodded. “We will.” He leaned his face down to her ear. “Even if it means sneaking into my bedroom at night.”
She gasped and pulled back. Her face was red and her eyes were wide.
“Don’t count on that happening,” she snapped.
He chuckled and straightened. He continued to watch as people waved at them. Grinning, Grange nudged her with his shoulder. “You and your uncle are well known around these parts.”
She shrugged. “People in Belle, Wyoming, are just very friendly. I’ve never known a more pleasant bunch of people in my life.”
He tsked and shook his head. “You might want to rethink that answer, my dear. After all, I have met Lucy Mae Jackson, and she didn’t seem very pleased with your... widowhood.”
Her nostrils flared and her gaze narrowed. “What exactly did she say about me?”
He caressed her hot cheek. “Calm down. I think Miss Jackson is just jealous of your beauty and sweetness.”
“Granger... tell me what she said.”
He wanted to laugh. He usually did when she called him Granger. “She just couldn’t believe that a widow would be flirting with men.”
“Men?” Her voice lifted and she quickly cleared her throat. “I was only talking to Deputy Will, and I touched his arm. That’s all I did. And it was only one man.”
“It’s like I said, I think she’s jealous that you have a natural talent for charming a man and she doesn’t.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t either.”
“All you have to do is flutter your long lashes and the men can’t help but get lost in your enchanting hazel eyes.”
A smile touched her face, and his heart raced. He liked her shy way of smiling. He found it adorable, so he assumed other men would enjoy her smile, too.
“I don’t believe you,” she said with a hint of laughter in her voice.
“You don’t?” He chuckled. “Have you forgotten when we were at the Stillman’s barbeque and when I kissed you?”
“Shhh... Lower your voice.” She touched his arm. “My uncle doesn’t need to hear this conversation.”
“Then tell me, do you remember?” he asked quieter.
“Of course I remember. That’s not something a girl is likely to forget.”
“What? The barbeque?”
She arched an eyebrow. “No, silly. She’s not going to forget her first kiss.”
First kiss? Not very often did something surprise Grange, but he nearly lost his breath ov
er this confession. Questions filled his head, and he wanted to find out more, but as the wagon rounded a bend, he caught sight of a man darting behind a building.
His heart dropped. Foster Powell! Grange was positive that was the evil man... and he was here in Belle! It looked as if his stitches would have to wait. He had a wife to save, and her father’s keepsake to protect.
Although he needed to end this particular conversation with Sabine, he vowed this topic was not over. He wanted to ask her why she chose him for her first kiss. He’d have to find a time to discuss yesteryear... especially the afternoon at the Stillman’s barbeque.
“Grange? What’s wrong? Your face just lost a little color.”
He moved his attention back to the lovely woman beside him. “It appears our adventure with Foster Powell is going to start faster than I’d wanted.”
Her gaze jumped around them. “Why? Is he here?”
“I saw him going behind that building over there.” He pointed in the direction he’d seen Powell.
“Are you sure it was him?”
“I have no doubt.”
“Grange?” she asked, leaning closer to him as she peered up into his eyes. “What are we going to do? My aunt and uncle might be in danger now.”
Grange shook his head. “Foster will be after you for now. If he doesn’t get what he wants, then he might go after Gerald and Milly. However, I’m going to do all I can to keep that from happening.”
As the wagon moved farther away from the town, Grange kept his gaze toward the road, searching for only one man. “Sabine? Did you bring my saddlebag and my guns from the doctor’s office?”
“No.”
He cussed softly. “I’ll need them.”
“I’ll go—”
“No,” he said quickly. “I’ll have your uncle go. I want you around the house so that I can protect you better.”
“Grange? What if he tries to get inside the house before my uncle can retrieve your guns?”
He looked at her and gave her a crooked smile as he gently patted his bandaged side. “You’re pretty handy with a knife. I’d suggest taking one to bed tonight.”
“I suppose if that’s what needs to be done, I’ll do it.”
The wagon slowed down again and pulled onto a small road that led toward a house. “Just in case we can’t talk in private,” he whispered, “I do want you to sneak into my room. We need to study your father’s keepsake... just in case. There’s got to be a reason Foster isn’t giving up.”
She nodded. Worry was etched in her pretty eyes, making him want to hold her close. However, that might not be a good idea right now. Touching her was just too tempting, and brought back too many memories. Sadly enough, it also made him want to make new memories. That definitely couldn’t happen.
SABINE WAITED A GOOD hour after her aunt and uncle retired for the night before she sprang out of bed. She kept the light of her lamp turned low, hoping it would keep Powell away from the house. Who knew how long that ploy would work?
She flipped off the light blanket and pushed her feet into her slippers. She took her night-robe off her bed and slipped into it. She picked up her father’s painting before sneaking out of the room. The hallway’s floor creaked in certain areas, so Sabine tried her best not to step on those spots.
She came to Natalie’s old room and quietly opened the door. She prayed Grange wasn’t asleep. Of course, she didn’t think he would be since he professed to wanting to protect her and her aunt and uncle.
Cautiously, she entered the room and closed the door behind her. Immediately, she felt a different atmosphere in the room. She sensed someone was in the shadows, and very nearby.
Suddenly, a man’s body pressed against her, pushing her up against the door. She gasped, bringing a hand up to push against his bare shoulders... bare? She quickly slid her hand down to his waist. Bandaged. A relieved sigh escaped her.
“Grange,” she whispered. “It’s me.”
“I know,” he said softly as he buried his face in her neck.
Pleasurable chills ran over her and she trembled with delight. She needed to stop these insane feelings from creeping up on her. “Then if you know it’s me, why are you still up against me?”
His chest shook with what she figured was a silent laugh. For a moment she thought he’d pull away, but he didn’t.
“Would you believe me if I told you that I liked doing this?”
She frowned, wondering what he was talking about. Could he be delirious from the pain? Or had the doctor given him some medicine which made him talk nonsense?
“Grange, please...” She pressed on his shoulder again, but he didn’t budge an inch.
“Sabine,” he whispered, “don’t you want to see what it’s like after all this time? Aren’t you the least bit curious?”
His warm breath on her neck was causing havoc to spin through her mind, confusing her greatly. “What are you referring to? What should I be curious about?”
“This...”
He lifted his head and brushed his mouth across hers. Her breath stalled in her chest, and her body stiffened from a mixture of fear and interest. After all, they were married. This wasn’t a sin. And he definitely couldn’t ruin her name again.
As he continued to leave small kisses over her lips, her body gradually relaxed. It didn’t take long before her mouth moved against his. But when he tilted his head and deepened the kiss, passion flared inside her like never before. When she’d kissed him the first time at the Stillman’s barbeque, everything had been so new, and all she had wanted to do was please him. This, being her second kiss ever, the goals were still intact. She didn’t want him to think she was completely innocent.
His kiss was so magical, that she couldn’t help but love every second of it. Mixed emotions raged inside her, but passion overrode everything else. She’d been without a husband, and she was finally getting her chance, no matter how wrong it might feel since he wasn’t wearing a shirt and she was in her nightdress.
Soon, the kiss turned urgent, and he moved his hands up and down her back, pulling her closer to him with each stroke. She hesitated at first, but then she explored his muscular shoulder, sliding her palm over his chest. She lifted her other hand to join in the exploration. But when something fell to the floor with a clatter, her mind snapped alert.
Pa’s painting!
Grange jumped away from her and she sank to the floor on her knees, feeling for the painting since the room was too dark.
“Let me get a light,” Grange said in a deeper voice than she was used to.
Within moments, the lamp on his bed stand brightened the room slightly. She saw the painting, but a piece of the frame had broken away. “Nooo...” A sob caught in her throat as she picked up the painting and the broken side.
“Was that your father’s?” he asked, kneeling down beside her.
“Yes.” Tears built in her eyes as she held the two separate pieces against her bosom. How could she have forgotten that it was in her hand? And yet kissing him had caused her mind to empty out of anything that made sense.
“I’m sure I can fix it.” He caressed her arm. “Can I see it?”
She inhaled shakily and handed him the broken painting. If only she hadn’t kissed him. If only she hadn’t enjoyed it so much...
“This is a lovely painting,” he said. “Did your father paint it?”
“I think so. I never saw him do it, though. However, it hung on his bedroom wall for as long as I could remember.”
He stood and reached a hand down for her to take. She slipped her hand into his as he helped her stand. Keeping their hands joined, he walked them to his bed and sat on the edge. Closer to the light now, she was able to see the broken piece better. It wasn’t that bad. Nothing that a few nails and a hammer couldn’t fix.
“What’s this?” Grange’s finger flipped against a piece of paper sticking out of the back of the painting.
“I don’t know.” She took the painting and looked close
r at the piece of paper. Slowly, she pulled it out. Grange leaned next to her, helping her study the paper. Writing was on the old parchment. Squinting, she tried to read the faded ink. “Across the top it reads: Our treasure.” She glanced at Grange. “Do you think that meant my parents’ treasure?”
“Good question.” He peered closer.
She continued to study the faded writing. “I see Pa’s name.”
“I do, too, but there’s another name on there.”
Their faces were so close together, their cheeks were practically touching. But it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. Surprisingly, it was just the opposite.
“I can make out a letter R... and B... and T in the first name.”
“Robert, do you think?” She asked and pulled away just enough to see his face.
He nodded. “Yes, I’m sure that’s it.”
“What of the last name?”
He was silent for a moment. His lips thinned as he concentrated. She realized she liked his lips fuller – and kissing her.
Shaking away the thought, she focused back on the paper.
“There is a P in the last name,” Grange said. “I think it’s the first letter in the name.”
“What else do you see?” She leaned closer.
“Maybe that’s a U... or wait, it could be a W.”
She touched her fingernail to the paper. “That looks like two L’s.”
Grange hitched a breath and pulled back. His eyes were wide. “Robert Powell.”
She shook her head. “I wonder who that is.”
“I don’t know, but I have a sneaky suspicion that our friend Foster Powell is somehow related.”
Her heart sank. What had her father done to be friends with a Powell? If only she knew what was going on.
SEVEN
Grange wasn’t sure he liked where this mystery was heading, and yet, things were making a little more sense. If Foster was somehow related to Robert Powell, that would be a good reason to think he deserved Sabine’s treasure. But now he wondered what was the treasure?
Whispers of Yesterday Page 5
