Straightening, she turned toward him, glancing at the man on the table and nodding. “Hello, Uncle Boyden. How are you?”
Before Trask could utter another word, Dirk Masters sat up from the table, pointing his gun at the man’s chest. “So you’re Boyden Trask.”
“Who the hell are you?” Trask reached for his gun.
“I wouldn’t do that.”
Trask turned to see a man with a badge emerge from a back room, his gun drawn. An instant later, the exam room door crashed open, his men walking in, followed by Bull and Clay.
“That’s the way, men. Nice and easy.” Bull shoved one in the back. “Everything good in here, Gabe?”
Gabe looked at Rosemary. “Is this Boyden Trask?”
“Yes, Sheriff, it is.”
Gabe nodded toward the other two. “Do you recognize either of these men?”
“They always rode with Trask when they came for the cattle.”
The back door opened, Beau and Cash strolling in, their guns drawn.
“I’m disappointed, Gabe. I thought Trask would put up more of a fight.” Beau moved behind him and secured him with handcuffs, Cash doing the same with the other two men.
Gabe walked up to Trask. “You’re being arrested for stealing cattle.”
Trask threw his head back and laughed. “You’ve got the wrong men, Sheriff. It’s that little girl right there who did the stealing.”
“Blackmailing children to rustle cattle is also a crime. Guess you’ve got two charges to deal with.”
Trask’s eyes widened marginally. “You have nothing except the word of a few children.”
“Believe me. Their testimony will be enough to either hang you and your men or put you in jail for a long time.” Gabe glanced around the room. “Dirk, take Rosemary back to the ranch for now.”
“But—”
“No arguing with the sheriff.” Dirk placed his hand on Rosemary’s shoulder, escorting her toward the door. “I’ll let Dax and Luke know you have Trask and his men.”
Gabe nodded. “Thanks, Dirk. Doc, I appreciate your help.”
Clay smiled. “It was my pleasure, Sheriff.”
“All right. Let’s get these men to the jail.”
“Are you certain you’re all right watching those three by yourself?” Cash leaned against the door, watching Beau clean his gun. Gabe had already left for the night, giving Beau instructions to get him if he needed anything.
“They’re locked in separate cells, been fed, and took care of business out back. Nothing to do except wait for morning. Go on home to Allie. I’m sure she’s missing that pitiful face of yours.” Beau chuckled, although Cash noticed the humor didn’t reach his eyes.
“You know where to find me.”
Beau glanced up as Cash closed the door, thankful for the silence. With Trask and his men in town, he had little time to think about Caro.
It had been several days since the party, and even though Lena said Caro had a room at the hotel, there’d been no sign of her. He had no idea why she came back, and didn’t want to waste time guessing the reason for her return.
Sarah had stopped by each day, bringing a loaf of bread, a pie, and a huge bowl of pudding. Each time, he’d taken the food, thanked her, then sent the schoolteacher on her way. Beau knew he should tell her the truth—he had no interest in courting her or anyone.
Pushing up from his chair, Beau checked on the prisoners. Two snored, while Trask leaned against the back wall of his cell.
“You aren’t going to hold us, Deputy. There’s no real proof, just the word of a few children who already confessed to rustling.”
“I don’t agree, Trask, but it’s not up to me to decide.”
“Guess we’ll be taking up a lot of time in your jail until the judge arrives.”
Beau leaned his shoulder against the wall, crossing his arms. “Didn’t the sheriff tell you? You’re going to Big Pine for trial. Seems the Pelletiers aren’t the only ones who want to see you behind bars.”
The arrogant smirk disappeared from Trask’s face.
“Nothing more to say?” Beau asked as he pushed away from the wall. “Guess I’ll leave you to think on the error of your ways.”
Grabbing his hat and coat, Beau walked outside, taking a seat on one of the wooden chairs. Thanksgiving approached, and Rachel had already informed him he’d be expected. She’d embraced the day ever since President Lincoln declared it a holiday in 1863 in celebration of the Union Army victory at Gettysburg. As an ex-Confederate captain, he held no adoration for the Union Army, but he sure loved Rachel’s cooking. She and her sister-in-law, Ginny, sure knew how to prepare a feast.
“Hey, Beau. You hear the old Miller place sold?” Noah walked up, taking a seat next to him.
He glanced at his friend, wondering why he wasn’t home with his pretty wife, Abby, and young son, Gabriel. “Haven’t heard anything about it.” His gaze scanned the street, appreciating the growing quiet.
“I had business with Horace Clausen at the bank today. He told me the house and land sold yesterday—to a lady.”
“That a fact.” Beau didn’t care who bought it as long it was someone respectable. “She bring men with her to work it?”
“I can’t say and didn’t think to ask.” Noah leaned back, resting his arms behind his head.
“Well, whoever it is, it’s going to be better to have someone living there, working the land, rather than having it sit vacant. No sense wasting such a fine piece of property.”
“Doesn’t it butt up against your place?” Both the Miller property and Beau’s were southwest of town, easily accessed by well-worn wagon trails.
Beau thought about it, then nodded. “A little bit on one side where the river runs through both properties. The house is too far away to bother me, though.” He guessed at least a mile separated the old Miller house and the one he planned. At one point, he’d hoped to buy it, adding it to his existing property.
Noah chuckled. “I hear she’s starting repairs to the house next week. You might want to go over and pay your respects.”
Beau settled his hat lower on his forehead as the sun began its descent behind the western mountains. “I suppose I should.”
“You should probably know her name then.”
Nodding, Beau glanced at Noah. “Guess it would be best.”
“Caroline Iverson.”
Chapter Three
Beau sprang out of the chair, causing Noah to rear his head back and laugh. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Staring down at him, Beau fisted his hands on his hips. “How the hell did you think I’d respond to Caro moving in right next door?”
Noah’s laughter turned into a grin. “Pretty much the way you did.”
Pacing a few feet away, Beau ripped off his hat, running fingers through his hair before letting out a string of muffled curses.
“I got the impression you didn’t care one way or another about her. Guess I figured her buying the Miller place wouldn’t bother you.” Standing, Noah walked to the edge of the boardwalk. “Well, it’s done, and according to Horace, she’s real excited about it.”
Beau snorted, settling his hat back on his head. “The woman’s never done a lick of work in her life. She’ll be sitting on the porch, drinking tea, issuing orders to the men she hires.”
“You’re being pretty hard on Caro. She’s just like the rest of us, trying to find her place after the war. You may not want to admit it, but I know you’re not over her leaving.” Noah scratched his chin, a sure sign he was thinking about his next words.
“Just say it,” Beau prompted in a frustrated voice.
“Well, she came all the way back here and bought a place. Maybe you ought to consider going a little easy on her.”
Crossing his arms, Beau’s eyes narrowed. “You know, as well as any of us in Splendor, Caro can afford to buy a dozen houses and hire people to run them. She came back here to visit her friends. It doesn’t mean this will become her home. Sh
e’ll stay for a spell, then move back to San Francisco or Denver or someplace else until the desire to wander passes and she meets someone who means enough for her to settle down.”
Resting a hand on the rail, Noah studied his friend, then shook his head. “I suppose I can’t blame you for being cynical when it comes to Caro. And, by rights, maybe you should be. All I’m saying is she’s going to be your neighbor. It would be best to understand she’ll be crossing your path from time to time.” Glancing up at the fading light, Noah took the steps down to the street. “I’d better get home before Abby sets out to find me.”
Beau moved to rest his hip against the boardwalk railing. “Noah?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks.”
A sad smile tugged at the corners of Noah’s mouth as he nodded and walked away.
Beau strode back into the jail, took a quick glance at the cells, then settled in a chair. Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out the tattered paper showing his first attempts at sketching a plan for his house. It wasn’t fancy, certainly not up to the standards Caro was used to, but he believed they would’ve added on bedrooms and enlarged the porch over time.
Smoothing it out on top of the desk, he noted the date in the corner. Over a year had passed since he’d bought the property and, for the first time in his life, started to dream about a wife and family. A few months later, Caro was gone.
He’d almost shredded the paper, the same way she’d shredded his heart. Instead, he stowed it away in a corner of the small house he lived in behind the jail. After several months and gallons of whiskey, he’d pulled it out, vowing to make a fresh start.
Materials had been ordered from Silas Jenks at the lumber mill, with plans to start building in the spring. Several of Beau’s friends had offered to help. With luck and good weather, he figured it would be finished enough to move in by the end of summer.
“Hey, Deputy. How about something to drink back here?”
Beau recognized Trask’s voice and sighed. Folding the paper, he slid it back into his pocket, careful not to tear it. Bull had helped him prepare a regular set of plans, which he kept at his house. He didn’t want to think about why this first sketch meant so much to him. Ignoring the dull ache in his chest, he stood.
“I hear you, Trask.”
Big Pine, Montana Territory
“Anything else, Miss Caroline?”
Caro cocked her head. “Travis, I’ve asked you to call me Caro or Caroline numerous times.”
He gave her a wry grin. “I know, ma’am. But where I come from, I’m doing what my mama taught me.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “I’ve heard you call Isabella Izzy more than once.”
Color traveled up Travis’s face, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, ma’am, I guess that’s different.”
Caro knew it was, wondering why Travis hadn’t asked Isabella to marry him yet. Her friend didn’t seem concerned about it, content to have him in her life, allowing him time to make a decision. After all, the same as Caro, Isabella was a widow with a certain amount of financial security who could afford to wait.
Then why did waiting seem so hard now that Caro had decided she wanted nothing more than to marry Beau?
Looking at the almost full wagon they would drive back to Splendor, she glanced across the street at the second wagon. Luke had instructed both Travis and Tat to drive the wagons. They’d been in the territorial capital for two days and would head home within the hour. If all went well, they’d pull into Splendor early tomorrow, leaving the wagons locked in Noah’s livery. Afterward, Tat and Travis would ride back to Redemption’s Edge.
Luke and Dax had refused to take her money, but they did graciously accept a donation toward the building of the new clinic. She’d learned Bull had been placed in charge of the design and construction, the same as he had been in charge of the Pelletier shipping business in San Francisco.
“Is this dresser the last of it, Miss Caroline?”
Caro walked up the steps and peered into the general store. It held three times as much as the one in Splendor, which eliminated most of the orders she expected to make from back east.
“That’s the last of it. I’m ready to leave when you are.”
Ten minutes later, Travis had the dresser secure. With Caro next to him, he lifted his chin at Tat. When he nodded, Travis slapped the lines and started for Splendor.
“Shouldn’t be too bad a trip if the weather stays with us.”
Caro shifted on the uncomfortable bench seat, straightening her skirt. “I’m so happy to have the help. Everyone has been so generous.”
“It’s the way people are in Splendor. Besides, Isabella would have my hide if I didn’t offer to help.”
“So tell me something, Travis. When are you going to make an honest woman of her?”
He choked out a laugh, slapping the lines again. “Well, ma’am, I haven’t made a dishonest woman of her yet.”
Her eyes wide, Caro shot him a quick glance, seeing his lips twitch. Laughing, she placed a hand over her mouth.
“I do believe that’s the first time I’ve heard you jest, Mr. Dixon.”
An uncharacteristic grin formed on Travis’s face. “Isabella says she has to listen real close so she doesn’t miss them.”
“I suppose so.”
They settled into a comfortable silence, Caro’s thoughts turning to Beau. She wondered if he’d heard about her buying the Miller place. Isabella had been the one to let her know about the abandoned farmhouse, setting up a meeting with Horace Clausen at the bank. He’d been willing to sell it at an excellent price, leaving her with enough money to hire men to make repairs and furnish the house before the snows began to blanket the ground.
She knew many in Splendor, including Beau, thought she had endless wealth. Although Caro knew Cornelius Vanderbilt and his wife, Sophia, no one would ever confuse her financial status with theirs. Growing up with money and privilege didn’t mean she was careless with what she’d been given. Caro had set aside a monthly amount to live on and an allowance to purchase the house in Splendor. She had placed the remainder of her money safely in investment accounts back east and in San Francisco.
The Miller place needed a good amount of repairs. Surprisingly, she relished the challenge and planned to work alongside the men. She chuckled at what Beau would say if he saw her, hammer in hand, securing one of the broken windows.
“Did you say something, Miss Caroline?”
Shaking her head, she pushed away the amusing thought and focused her gaze ahead. “No, Travis. I was just thinking of all the work needed at the new place.”
“Luke said he could provide some help.”
“I couldn’t accept that, Travis. He and Dax have done enough. Horace Clausen says he knows of some men who would be happy to work for me.”
“You want to be careful who you hire. Might be best to have Gabe check them out before you make a decision.”
Straightening in her seat, she glared at him. “I am perfectly capable of hiring men to make repairs to the house.”
“I’m not questioning your ability, ma’am. There are a good number of men making their way across the country who haven’t found work and may not care what they do to put food in their stomachs. And I’m not speaking of hammering nails. These are men like Boyden Trask.”
More than three years after the war, vast numbers of men still couldn’t find work, farms lay in ruin, and widows with children found it hard to survive. Groups of men roamed the land, robbing banks and trains, ravaging farms, and killing innocent families. They arrived disguised as hardworking men looking for a chance. Instead, they brought death and devastation.
Caro had heard of Trask and his men, knowing Beau had been involved in the arrest. “I realize there are bad people out there.”
“All I’m saying is it’s sometimes hard to separate the bad from the good. Especially now with so many unsavory men moving our way. If it were me, I’d want someone else to give me an o
pinion.”
Her mind shifted to Beau. Caro wondered if he’d be willing to help her select men, provide advice on how to work with them. Sucking in a trembling breath, she shook her head. Asking him would only cause problems between him and Sarah. Even though Isabella remained convinced Beau held no interest in the schoolteacher, Caro wasn’t so certain. The way Sarah looked at him, his hand resting over hers, was more of a public statement than he’d ever made with her. Most people still didn’t know Beau had courted her, asking her to marry. And it was her own fault.
“You may be right, Travis. I’ll speak with Gabe. Maybe he and Nick would be willing to give me some guidance.”
Holding the lines loosely in his hands, Travis leaned back, stretching his muscles. “I’m not the smartest man around, Miss Caroline. Lord knows I’ve made some unforgiveable mistakes. But I do believe you’re making a real wise decision.”
At the sound of spurs hitting the wooden floor, Nick Barnett lifted his eyes from his spot at the bar in the Dixie Saloon where he stood reading the newspaper. Keeping his gaze hooded, he noticed a stranger make his way to the bar.
“What’ll you have?” The bartender, Paul, shot Nick a quick glance before settling his gaze on the man wearing a tattered hat, indicating a Union Army officer.
“Whiskey.”
Grabbing the bottle and a glass, Paul filled it to the rim. “Don’t believe I’ve seen you in here before.”
Picking up the glass, the man seemed to study it before tossing it back. “Nope.”
Nick’s mouth twitched. Pushing away from the bar, he moved next to the man, holding out his hand. “I’m Nick Barnett, one of the owners of the Dixie.”
Hesitating an instant, the man grasped the outstretched hand. “Caleb Covington.”
“What brings you to Splendor?”
“I believe Major Covington is looking for me.” Gabe pushed through the swinging doors, making a path straight for Caleb. “It’s good to see you.”
A smile transformed Caleb’s face as he held out his hand. “Colonel.”
Deep River Page 3
