Her Fearless Love_Seeing Ranch Mail Order Bride

by Florence Linnington

  Steve grunted, not willing to agree or disagree.

  Nearby, Sheriff Ross chatted with a man from either Pathways or Shallow Springs. Steve wasn’t sure. There had been little time to get acquainted while riding horseback into the mountains.

  Around them, men either rested, chewed on jerky, or took their horses to water. They’d chosen to stop in an area surrounded by trees, instead of a spot out in the open, and were doing their best to remain quiet.

  “I can’t stop thinking of home,” Neil said, taking his hat off and smacking the trail dust off of it. “I almost miss the mine.”

  Steve snorted. “Now, that I don’t believe.”

  Neil grinned. “Fine. That part is a lie. I do miss Whiteridge, though. At least there every day is predictable. You know what’s coming at you next. Not like… out here.”

  Steve ran his tongue across his front teeth and nodded. Aside from worrying about being ambushed by bandits before the posse got the chance to ambush them, the only thing that had been on his mind was Bonnie. He’d been praying for her and everyone else in town nonstop, and he hoped that she wasn’t too worried about him.

  Steve’s throat grew thick, and he had to clear it. He’d rather spend a month in the mountains than grow emotional in front of Neil.

  “I need to check my horse’s shoes,” Steve said, standing. He’d borrowed a horse from Daniel Zimmerman, who’d also contributed guns and provisions to the cause, and wanted to make sure the mare was well taken care of.

  Steve took one step and stopped as something red flashed behind a tree. Sucking in a breath, he squinted. What was that? One of the men gone to take a leak?

  Or…

  Steve reached for his holster, about to pull his pistol and release a warning cry to the rest of the posse, when a man in a red shirt stepped out from the trees, one hand raised. From his other hand dangled a skein of furs.

  Sheriff Ross’ shoulders drew back, and all the men stopped talking. Only the river made noise.

  “Afternoon,” the man said.

  “Good afternoon,” Sheriff Ross told him eyeing him carefully.

  “I’m Donald Foguth. From Air Gulley.”

  “Where’s Air Gulley?” Neil whispered in Steve’s ear.

  “Somewhere west of here,” Steve whispered back. “Bout sixty miles from Whiteridge, is my guess.”

  “Sheriff Ross of Shallow Springs” Even though his hand was nowhere near his holster, Steve could see the tension coiled up in the Sheriff. He was ready to spring at a moment’s notice.

  “What are you doing up here, sheriff?” The man’s gaze drifted around the small clearing, taking in the men scattered there.

  “We’re looking for a group of bandits, Mr. Foguth. And you?”

  Donald Foguth lifted his furs. “Beaver.”

  “How long have you been out here for? Have you run into anyone?”

  Foguth scratched his long and thick beard. “Been up in these hills on and off for a few weeks now. My partner and me.”

  “Donald Foguth!” a voice roared, and heads turned to see Wakefield rush up the river bank. He’d gone with a couple other men to fish for supper, and returned with wet pant legs and a stick loaded with yellow perch and catfish. The two men with him were also wet.

  “Briggs,” Foguth roared back. “What in the blazes are you doing up here?”

  The two men heartily shook hands.

  “We’re on a manhunt.” Wakefield’s gaze drifted to Sheriff Ross. “I take it you met the sheriff here.”

  “You know each other?” Sheriff Ross asked.

  “Foguth used to work with my cousin,” Wakefield answered. “Guiding settlers West. He knows these mountains probably better than any man.”

  “Aw, that cousin of yours runs a fair competition,” Foguth answered. “I’ll tell you that.”

  “How long you been up here for?” Wakefield asked.

  “I was just telling your lawman here,” Foguth said. “Three weeks. Maybe four. Been going to the camp on the way to Air Gulley some, though.”

  “And have you seen anyone up here?” Sheriff Ross asked Foguth again.

  “Just another hunter. No bandits. Sorry. But say, who are you looking for, exactly? Their leader wouldn’t happen to have a bum leg, would he? And have a fellow with gold teeth with him?”

  Again, Sheriff Ross’ body language changed. He became even stiffer.

  “Gold teeth,” Neil hissed in Steve’s ear. “I missed that note.”

  Steve hushed him with a waving hand, not wanting to miss a word of Ross and Foguth’s conversation.

  “That’s right,” Sheriff Ross said. “Those are two of the men we’re looking for.”

  “Aw, well, last time I was down in camp--two days ago, that was--I heard that group was sighted around Aldertown last week. You know where that is?”

  “About eighty miles from here?” Sheriff Ross guessed.

  “At least,” Wakefield said with a frown. “Did you hear anything about where they were headed, Foguth?”

  “They robbed a few wagons and headed west. Crossed the river outside of town before all that rain came.”

  “They were seen crossing the river?” Sheriff Ross asked.

  Foguth shrugged and scratched his beard some more. “This is all word of mouth, sheriff. Sorry to not have an official proclamation.” He chuckled. “But from the story I heard, that’s right, they were seen trying to cross the river right before the rain.”

  “Which means they couldn’t have crossed and come back this way,” Reed, a rancher from Shallow Springs said. “Not if the Alder River runs as deep as I remember it too.”

  “It would appear not,” Sheriff Ross said.

  Everyone stood there in silence, letting this news sink in.

  “These bandits fit the description of the men we’re looking for?” Wakefield asked Sheriff Ross.

  The sheriff nodded. “They do. They match perfectly with the statements I got from the witnesses south of Pathways.”

  “Huh.” Wakefield looked from the sheriff to Foguth. “If you hear anything about this group, Foguth…”

  “I’ll send you word,” Foguth finished, shaking Wakefield’s hand. “Sorry, your hunt isn’t working out. Good luck to you all. I best be getting back to camp. There’s another rain coming in.” He nodded up at the dark clouds collecting in the sky.

  “Thank you for your help,” Sheriff Ross told him.

  Foguth slipped back into the woods, and as the men climbed into their saddles, Steve caught some of Sheriff Ross’ and Wakefield’s conversation.

  “You trust him?” Sheriff Ross asked.

  Wakefield nodded. “Foguth is a good man. Stood up for me once in a bar fight. Saved my cousin’s life in a river. He has no association with outlaws. I’d stake my life on that.”

  Sheriff Ross nodded, but his tense jaw said he still wasn’t satisfied. “We’re heading home.”

  The posse headed back along the river, exiting into the valley and carving a line between the flat land and the hills. Light raindrops turned into a steady downpour, and Steve turned his collar up to fight back the water that wanted to slide down his neck.

  If Foguth’s information was to be trusted, the bandits had been miles away the night Hawkins died. If that were true, then who had killed the man? Had it been a criminal vagabond just passing through and looking to pocket some bills? Or someone who had a personal vendetta against Hawkins?

  As worried as he’d been about meeting bandits face-to-face, Steve had also hoped they would make some arrests and get a confession. At least that way, this whole mystery would be settled.

  But that wasn’t the case. There were no answers to be had, and that meant that whatever danger had done Hawkins in was still out there, looming over Whiteridge.

  16

  16. Bonnie

  Chapter sixteen

  Bonnie put all her strength into scrubbing the hotel’s window. Maybe if she worked herself hard enough, she would be able to sleep that night. The
night before, after returning from Rosalie’s, she had tossed and turned all night long. The mattress creaks coming from Thea’s bed in their shared room had told her that her friend had experienced the same restlessness.

  As Steve had made it clear that he did not want Bonnie to visit their cabin, she’d been left with very little to distract herself with. When she’d offered to wash the hotel’s windows, Thea had laughed before seeing how serious she was.

  Now, halfway through the afternoon, Bonnie had done all but one window on the hotel’s bottom floor. Pausing in her work, she pushed some hair from her face and looked toward the street. Figures moved inside the schoolhouse, and a couple of men exited the general store. Thea had taken Aria upstairs for her nap, promising to return once the baby awoke.

  The sound of a great number of hooves made Bonnie turn around. At the sight of the seven riders who had left Whiteridge, Bonnie dropped her rag in surprise. She’d already caught sight of Steve and Neil, both of who rode at the far end of the line.

  In front of the hotel, the group dispersed, some of them heading up the road and others swinging off their horses in front of the building. Bonnie rushed forward, only mildly self-conscious of her sweaty face and wet apron.

  “Steve,” she gasped at the sight of him.

  He was already upon her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in close. Bonnie inhaled deeply, taking in his familiar scent.

  She drew away from the embrace as Wakefield walked by. “Miss Potter,” he said, with a tip of his hat.

  Before Wakefield set his boot on the hotel’s first step, the door opened, and Thea came out with Aria in her arms.

  “Goodness,” Thea breathed, her chin trembling.

  “There now,” her husband said. “It’s all right. Everyone is fine.”

  “Pa,” Aria squealed. “Pa!”

  The baby reached out for Wakefield, and he took her in his arms and gave her a little toss in the air. She laughed with glee.

  “What happened?” Bonnie asked, looking from Wakefield to Steve.

  The men glanced at each other, and Neil walked up, pushing his hat back from his face. “I’ll take the horses and get them brushed and watered,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Wakefield told him.

  Neil nodded and guided all three of their horses away to the stables in the rear.

  “Well?” Thea asked. “What happened?”

  “We didn’t find them,” Steve answered.

  Bonnie could feel the disappointment rolling off of him.

  “You were not out there for long,” she said. “Is that normal? To return after only a few days?”

  “Well, we got some news,” Wakefield said. “It seems the bandits we were looking for weren’t in the area anymore. They crossed a river west of here last week, right before some heavy rains hit that area. It doesn’t seem likely that they had anything to do with Hawkins’ murder.”

  A chill went up Bonnie’s back, and she glanced at Thea, who had turned pale.

  “You’re sure?” Bonnie asked.

  “Sure as we can be,” Wakefield said, bouncing Aria up and down gently.

  Bonnie chewed on the inside of her lip. What now? Did this mean Hawkins’ killer was still somewhere in town? Was it a person who had meant to harm just him? Or someone who, God forbid, had a plan to terrorize the area?

  Bonnie took in a long breath. She was letting her thoughts get carried away. One person had been killed. A man who had not been very nice, at that. It didn’t mean anyone else was in danger.

  “Sheriff Ross is coming to town tomorrow,” Wakefield said. “He wants to ‘address the town’ about all of this.”

  “And tell us what?” Bonnie asked.

  Wakefield shrugged. “Likely, he wants to make sure everyone is aware of the bandit situation, as they could come back this way sooner or later.”

  Bonnie went stiff at the thought. An unknown killer. Bandits. She had not expected the West to be this dangerous.

  “Don’t worry.” Steve put his hand on Bonnie’s shoulder. “There’s nothing to fret about.”

  If only his furrowed brow didn’t say otherwise…

  “You are all home safe and sound,” Thea said, stroking Aria’s cheek and looking lovingly at her husband. “That is something to thank God for. Whatever happens next, we can manage.”

  “That’s right.” Wakefield beamed at her. “Now, I don’t know about Steve, but I’m hungrier than a horse.”

  Thea clapped her hands together once. “Let’s get you men, a square meal.”

  Later, after they ate and Bonnie packed up the few belongings she’d brought to the hotel, she and Steve walked up the hill for home.

  “How have you been doing?” Steve asked, looking at her sidelong as they walked.

  For some reason, the question made Bonnie suddenly emotional. She had worried the whole time Steve was gone, but perhaps she’d held back the majority of her feelings. Now that he had returned safely, relief made her knees shake.

  “I am… better now that you are home,” she said.

  Steve stopped walking and turned to face her straight on. “I didn’t want to do that. To leave and cause you worry. But, I had to.”

  Bonnie squeezed his hand. “Please do not apologize. You went for us, as well as for all of our friends. I am proud of you.”

  A warm smile slipped across Steve’s face, and Bonnie felt enough relief to make all the stress and fear worth it.

  “How is Margaret?” he asked.

  “Oh. Margaret.” Bonnie sighed. “It is hard to say. I think, like us, it is hard for her to understand how she feels.”

  “Except it’s probably that much worse for her.”

  “Exactly,” Bonnie agreed.

  They started walking again, passing by Neil’s empty cabin. Their neighbor had stayed in town to have a drink with some of the other men.

  “So this is all over with,” Bonnie said. “For now.”

  She wanted Steve to answer in the affirmative in order to squash her fears, but he said nothing. Fear growing in her, Bonnie looked his way.

  “Steve?” she asked.

  “I don’t want to lie to you, Bonnie, but I’m not so sure it is over. Until whoever killed Hawkins is behind bars, I won’t be able to sleep well.”

  “I understand,” Bonnie whispered.

  “I don’t want you going out while I’m at the mine. I know that’s harsh, but please.”

  “No, it is fine. I won’t.”

  “And if anyone comes up to the cabin... A stranger… or even someone you know who you get an odd feeling about… go inside and bolt the door.”

  “You think someone we know could have killed Mr. Hawkins?”

  “I don’t know anything for sure right now.”

  Another wave of fear pushed its way up Bonnie’s chest, and she thought for a moment that she might be sick.

  Their cabin came into view, and Bonnie started to go for the front door, but Steve took hold of her hand.

  “We’re just in time for the sunset,” he said, “if you want to see it.”

  Bonnie smiled. “That sounds lovely.”

  Silently, they walked single file down the trail and to the spot Steve had shown her when she had first arrived. It was their special place and they had been up to the lookout a few times since then, and, true to Steve’s word, each sunset had been different.

  This evening, as the sun shimmered above the horizon, they leaned against the rock face and watched and listened. The air dipped, and Bonnie pulled her shawl tighter around herself, only to find Steve pulling her to his chest.

  She sighed, sinking into his warmth.

  “I’m sorry,” he said suddenly.

  “For what, Steve?” Bonnie whispered.

  “I have to be honest, Bonnie. I’m worried right now.”

  Bonnie did her best to stop her voice from shaking. “About Mr. Hawkin’s killer? About the bandits?”

  A long time passed.

  “About… oth
er things as well.”

  Bonnie stiffened against Steve’s chest and stepped away so she could look him straight in the face. The approaching night meant there was only the faintest glow on his features.