Hiram ignored him and headed toward town on foot.
He shook Nathan’s hand solemnly. “Take good care of your sister, son.”
“I will, sir.” Nathan rubbed Griffin’s neck one last time and stepped out of the way.
Jake turned back to Rachel, staring at her for a long moment. The world seemed to narrow to just the two of them. She could almost feel him stroking her hair, kissing her lips... She forced herself out of the waking dream. “Go with God, Ranger McCain.”
He caught up Griffin’s reins, touched the brim of his hat in farewell, and followed the other men.
CHAPTER SIX
Jake bid his escorts good-bye at the door to the livery, where he left Griffin with his nose in a feedbag of grain. Then he went in search of Arnold Miller. According to Hank Gerard, Miller owned the dry goods store and served as mayor and sheriff whenever the need arose. He was also the father of the puffed-up, self-important, rooster of a man Rachel seemed to be enamored with.
Jake tried to ignore the flare of anger at the thought of Rachel tying herself to Hiram Miller. Who she chose to marry was none of his concern.
“Excuse me, miss.” He stopped a young woman with a touch to the brim of his hat. “Where might I find Arnold Miller?”
“I imagine he’s in his store, sir.” The girl giggled and batted her long lashes at him. “Over there.”
Jake couldn’t believe she was flirting with him. The girl couldn’t be more than twelve. “Thank you.” He headed in the direction she indicated, anxious to put some distance between them in case she offered to show him the way.
A bell jingled over Jake’s head when he walked in. The scent of dried beef mingled in the cold room with that of fresh bread and grain. Evidently, Arnold Miller didn’t believe in wasting firewood.
“Good morning.” A man who looked like an older version of Hiram Miller called out from the far end of the store. Setting aside a huge black feather duster, the man started toward Jake. Three women, gathered near a small stove, ceased their conversation to stare at him. Jake removed his hat, a gesture that would have made his mother proud.
“I’m Arnold Miller,” the man introduced as he approached, tugged on his vest and stuck out his hand. “You must be Ranger McCain.”
“Word travels fast around here.”
Miller barked out a laugh. “Not too many visitors make their way to our little community.” He slapped Jake on the back. “Come on to the back, closer to the stove, where it’s warmer.”
Jake looked over the room as he walked its length. It was decent sized for a small town. Shelves with jars and canned goods covered one wall, and picks, axes, and shovels covered two more. No doubt that Lucinda was a mining town. Several skeins of white wool yarn lay nearby and he wondered if Rachel had spun them. A heavy canvas curtain covered a small doorway behind the counter, presumably the office and storage area.
He bit back a snort of laughter when he spotted a polished wooden sign with the word BANK painted on it in glossy black lettering, hanging over one end of the counter. A large red leather blotter was arranged on a section of the scarred wood. On it, between two pens and a pot of ink, rested another sign that notified anyone who cared that the bank was closed. So this was the domain of the wonderful Hiram. He shook his head. How could someone as level-headed and practical as Rachel Hudson convince herself a fancy man like Hiram Miller was a good catch?
“My son tells me you had a less than friendly greeting when you arrived in our community.”
“No fault of the town’s,” Jake assured him. “And Miss Hudson and Nathan have more than made up for it.”
A gasp from one of the women had Jake focusing on them.
“Forgive my rudeness. Ranger McCain, allow me to introduce my wife, Lucinda.”
Miller indicated a tall, thin woman with a bird-like nose and watery blue eyes. Bony fingers clutched a green velvet reticule that perfectly matched her dress. Her graying hair was peeled back from her face and secured in a tight knot in the back. She examined him with a look of undisguised contempt on her pinched face before acknowledging him with a haughty nod.
“Ma’am.” Jake bit back his irritation at her reaction and inclined his head in greeting. He couldn’t help but agree that Nathan’s description of the old biddy was fitting.
Miller beamed at his wife. “She is from one of the finest families in Boston. I’m fortunate she has as keen a sense of adventure as I do. We built this town together, you know.”
Jake nodded, more to move him along than because he was interested.
“This is Ms. Abigail Winston,” Miller continued. “She runs the most excellent boardinghouse just across the street.”
“Call me Abby.” Laughter boomed from the amply girthed woman as she greeted Jake. He returned her grin. Here was a woman he could come to like.
“And this dear young girl is Miss Penelope Parker. Her father is one of our leading citizens, a miner with a rather profitable claim northeast of town.” More girl than woman, Penelope blushed at the attention.
“How do you do, Ranger McCain?”
Before Jake could return the greeting, Lucinda Miller interrupted. “You’ve been with that woman.”
Temper flared at the tone of accusation in her voice. “Miss Hudson and her brother saved my life. Had I not found my way to their home, I would have died in the blizzard. The cabin was buried in snow until your son and the others dug it out this morning.”
“It doesn’t surprise me that a woman like her would entertain someone like you in her home. Half-breed,” she hissed before turning away. Miss Parker copied her actions and presented her back to Jake.
Jake held his tongue, but barely. He could take the slur aimed at him, but there was no reason to condemn Rachel. “Miss Hudson is a God-fearing woman, raised to care for someone in need. She’s done nothing to deserve this.” Lucinda Miller ignored him. Only Abby Winston seemed willing to believe him.
“Rachel is a good girl. She’d never turn her back on you, that’s for sure.”
Jake thanked her with a nod. At least someone in this town believed him.
“I’m sure you appreciate everything Miss Hudson has done for you,” Arnold Miller offered.
Jake glared at the man. Surely he didn’t mean what his tone insinuated. “You want to explain what you mean by that?”
“Arnold,” Mrs. Miller interrupted.
“Yes, dear?”
“I’m going home.”
“Yes, dear.”
Jake remained silent until the door closed behind the women with a jingle of the bell, never looking away from Arnold Miller. “I’m waiting.”
“We didn’t know much about Rachel Hudson when she came to us. We had to take the word of the preacher who brought her here. It’s a shame, really. She seemed to be a fine teacher, and her students all love her.” Miller released an exaggerated sigh. “Still, we can’t let a woman like her influence our children.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“The gentlemen who came through town said they’d stopped at her cabin before coming here.”
Jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “They were looking for a place to wait out the storm. If they traveled the same route I did, her house would have been the first place they came to. She didn’t let them inside, just sent them on to the boardinghouse in town.”
The man didn’t look convinced. “You were seen paying her.”
“For the food she shared with me while the three of us were snowed in.” Jake emphasized Nathan’s presence in the cabin. “Did your son mention she refused my money?”
“Yes, but she would have, since others were present to witness the transaction. I’m sorry, but we can’t have her kind in our town. We won’t allow it. That sort of activity would attract the very people we don’t want in our community.”
“Look, Miller, you’ve got it wrong. Miss Hudson is a gentle, generous woman who only wants to make a home for herself and her brother. She would
n’t accept payment for saving my life because she was raised to help others without expecting anything in return. And she sent that bunch of good-for-nothing liars away. She didn’t invite them in for tea.”
“They all seemed like gentlemen to me.”
“They’re thieves, kidnappers, and murderers.” Jake nearly choked on the last word. How well he knew. “Pick one. You can’t take their word for anything.”
Miller’s eyes bulged at Jake’s litany. “I see.”
“You’ve been lied to, which is something those particular men are very good at.”
“Well, we’ll have to take that into consideration.” The man tugged his vest over his belly again. “Yes, indeed. I’ll have to tell my wife immediately.”
“Do that. And be sure she spreads the word as quickly as she did before.” Jake reined in his temper. “I need some supplies before I hit the trail.”
Their business went quickly. When Jake took a couple of silver coins from his pocket to pay for his purchases, Arnold Miller snatched them up, made change, and led Jake to the door like he couldn’t wait to see him gone.
The reaction in the livery, when he returned for Griffin, wasn’t much better, but at least it was directed at him and not Rachel. Only Abby, at the boardinghouse, seemed to accept nothing had happened while he’d been trapped in a house with an unmarried woman and her brother.
“I’d be happy to help, Mr. McCain.” The woman closed her front door behind Jake. “Have you eaten? I’m just about to have a bite of lunch and I hate eating alone.”
Jake tossed his hat onto a peg near the door. “Thank you, Abby. A hot meal would be welcome before I get on the trail.” He started to unbuckle his gun belt, but she waved away the necessity.
“Out here, you get used to men wearing the things. They don’t bother me none.” Her laugh boomed off the walls as she pulled a Colt Derringer from her apron pocket. Its ivory grip was yellowed from years of handling. “Can’t be too careful in a mining town.” She returned the gun to its hiding place and reached for a long wooden spoon. “Sit yourself down. I’m glad for the company. We don’t get a lot of strangers through town this time of year. Albert—Mr. Jackson—he has a claim several miles east of town. He picked up his children just a bit ago and the house is almost too quiet without them.”
Jake chose a chair where he could watch the door and windows and accepted a plate of food with a nod of thanks. He didn’t bother trying to say anything. Abby barely paused to breathe.
“Mind you, they behave, but three children under the age of seven make a heap of noise even sitting still.”
She pulled out the chair opposite him. It creaked as she settled her weight into it, but she paid no attention. “Now, tell me what you need me to do for Rachel. Such a delightful girl, though she’s got more on her shoulders than any child her age ought to have to worry with.”
Jake swallowed the bite of excellent stew he was chewing. “She saved my life and I’m in her debt. I know having to feed me used up a lot of her supplies, but she refused to let me pay her for any of it. Would you mind purchasing and delivering some things to her for me? I’d ask Arnold Miller to do of it, but I don’t want to fuel the gossip any more than I already have.”
“Of course. When Lucinda told me Rachel had taken money for—well—you being with her...” She waved a hand in the air as if to chase away the words. “I told her it couldn’t be true. But she doesn’t want to hear anything good about the girl.”
She lowered her voice, as if the walls had ears. “Her son, Hiram, has been paying Rachel some attention, and Lucinda’s determined to protect her boy from any woman he might find interesting.” She snorted with laughter. “It doesn’t help that Rachel is the prettiest thing this valley is ever likely to see.”
Jake finished his meal. “I appreciate your help. She’s done nothing to warrant the gossip but save the life of a stranger. Being the daughter of a preacher, folks should expect that.”
“The preacher wasn’t her real father, you know.” She cleared the table and topped up his cup of coffee before returning to the table.
“She said something about it.” Jake remembered the photograph lying on Rachel’s mantel. There’d been something familiar about it, but he wasn’t sure what. He brought his attention back to Abby, knowing he’d remember eventually.
“She doesn’t share that with many people, Ranger. It was the preacher who told me he found her wandering in the wilderness, carrying an infant boy she swore was her brother. She said her parents were dead and the two of them were alone in the world. Well, the preacher and his wife had always wanted children and they figured the good Lord had finally found a way of blessing them. They raised Rachel and little Nathan as their own until his wife died. A couple of months later, they came through Lucinda and the preacher left them both here, saying Rachel was a good, God-fearing woman who’d been taught all the things necessary in a wife and it was time she found a husband.”
She took a healthy swallow of cooling coffee. “Of course, there was talk that she was more than a daughter to the preacher, but it didn’t last long. That was more than two years ago. She’s been teaching the children and a good number of the adults since she got here, her being the only one who can read and write who didn’t already have enough to do making their own living. And she’s done a fine job of it. There’s a few around here that still believe Nathan is actually her son, but it didn’t seem to matter to most folks one way or the other.”
“What do you believe?” Jake wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he couldn’t help himself.
“Her story doesn’t really seem to add up. She never discusses her and the boy’s mother and that makes it harder for some to accept what she says. But it makes no difference to me, whichever is the truth. She’s a fine young woman who makes her own way, is always willing to help others, and is a pretty bit of sunshine in this corner of the world. That’s enough for me.”
“The men who came through the night of the blizzard, who started these lies about Rachel, how long did they stay?”
Abby shook her head. “Just the one night, which suited me fine.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know. More a feeling than anything they did.” She stared through Jake, trying to remember. “They weren’t rowdy, paid their bill up front and didn’t cause trouble.”
Jake drained his cup of coffee and refused Abby’s offer to refill it. “But?”
“There was something about them that made me uneasy, like they’d shoot a man as easy as saying good morning. All but one of them, anyway. He didn’t seem to fit in, but I didn’t waste too much time thinking on why.”
“You read them right. They’re wanted in both Texas and the New Mexico territory for murder, kidnapping, and cattle rustling. If they come back, don’t let them in.”
He waited until she reluctantly agreed. He understood her reticence. Money was money, after all, and a thief’s silver spent the same as a preacher’s. Jake pushed away from the table and rose. “What do I owe you for the meal?”
“Not a thing. I enjoy having such handsome company. Just promise you’ll come back should you pass through here again.”
“With pleasure, Abby.”
Jake handed her several coins for Rachel’s supplies. Abby tucked them into her apron pocket, then saw him to the door and bid him safe travels. Jake checked the angle of the sun and knew he had to get started. Tugging his hat lower against the wind that had kicked up with the warming air, he left the porch and headed for the livery.
•♥•
Four hours later, he had to admit defeat. If the men he was following had come this way, they didn’t leave any sign of it. Jake was the best tracker in Company C of the Texas Rangers, but he hadn’t found a single hoof or boot mark to indicate their passage. Had he been put on the wrong track deliberately? Staring into the distance, he gauged the time left before sunset. He could go back to town, put up in the boardinghouse for the night and start again in th
e morning. That would give him a chance to jog Hiram Miller’s memory—and check on Rachel.
How had a slip of a girl gotten under his skin so fast? Sure, she was pretty, but he’d known others who were more beautiful. Her grit appealed, too, but it wasn’t only that. He pulled off his hat and resettled it on his head. He couldn’t help wondering if the rumors running through town were true. Was she an experienced woman rather than an innocent girl? His body tightened at the thought of finding out for himself. He’d like to get to know the pretty lady a lot better.
He couldn’t be obvious about it, since some in town already questioned her story. Rachel was isolated enough as it was. There were so many things that could go wrong. She couldn’t even fire a gun, and that left her vulnerable to anyone who happened past her cabin.
Jake plucked a small stone from the ground and rolled it through his fingers, thinking. He should leave well enough alone. She didn’t need a man like him in her life. All he’d managed to do was bring her trouble.
Squinting against the sun as it dipped toward the horizon, he let his mind drift until it circled back to the men he was chasing. What if they returned to the little town? Given the lies they’d told about Rachel, he wouldn’t put it past them to show up at her house. She lived so far out of town, no one would know she was in danger until it was too late. And they probably wouldn’t help her if they did.
Imagining Rachel cornered had his gut feeling like it was packed full of barbed wire. Tossing the stone aside, Jake vaulted into Griffin’s saddle and turned back toward Lucinda.
•♥•
The cabin was finally clean again. After Jake and the others left, Rachel and Nathan had swept and shoveled the melting snow out of the lean-to, spread fresh straw, and moved the animals back where they belonged. Then, they set to work with hot water and lye soap to remove all evidence of their stay in the cabin.
Hours later, when she figured soap and scrubbing wouldn’t do any more good, they shoved the sea chest against the far wall and pulled her spinning wheel closer to the window where it belonged. Then they dragged her mattress back into her bedroom. For an instant, Rachel swore she smelled Jake’s scent in the ticking. How had he become a part of her life so fast that she missed having him here? It was ridiculous. He’d only been in the cabin a couple of days and he’d been unconscious for part of it.
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