by Jodi Thomas
“Go back to the house and tell Sheriff Roak that I want to see him.” Andrew wasn’t sure he liked Sage’s husband, but he’d been the sheriff for years. Andrew had no doubt he was an honest man who loved his family, but from time to time he looked at Andrew as if he were wondering what crimes he’d committed. Something about the sheriff made Andrew feel like he should start confessing.
“We’ll be safe here,” Beth whispered. For the first time, she didn’t sound like she believed her own words.
He watched her go, knowing that she’d be safer without him around. If only he could ride, he would be wise to disappear, but wisdom seemed to have deserted him the moment he saw Beth on the train looking worried and frightened. He’d had to save her, just as he had to stay and keep her safe now, even if the only way might be to stand between her and a bullet.
The dinner she’d brought was forgotten as he watched the sunset. Winter had turned everything into shades of brown except for the evergreens along the creek. The air was crisp tonight, hinting of another storm, but he’d never seen the moon so big. The place was hauntingly beautiful with the black of the mountain behind the house and the sound of the creek rushing between rocky shores. He could understand why all the McMurrays fought for this place. A slice of heaven.
Sheriff Drum Roak was within twenty feet of him before he heard the man. Even then Andrew had the feeling he’d made a sound on purpose to announce his presence.
“Evening, Sheriff.” Andrew tried to swallow his surprise.
“Evening, Mr. McLaughlin. Heard you wanted to talk to me.”
Andrew nodded as the tall, lean man walked toward him. He wore his gun low like a gunfighter, and like many of the men born to this life he seemed more legend than real. A man built of rawhide and guts. He didn’t seem to fit with the tiny doctor, but Andrew had seen them together and they lived for each other’s smile.
Andrew said the first thing that came to mind. “I figured you’d ride over.”
“I grew up running across this land. When I was a kid I used to swim the river and walk to the house just to see what the McMurrays were up to. Except for once, they never caught me, and the night Teagan did I thought he might kill me.”
“The way I heard it, you almost killed him.”
Sheriff Roak was close enough that Andrew saw him fight down a grin. “I tried, but I was just a kid. He tied me up in the barn to wait for the sheriff, and the McMurray women tried to feed me to death. I fell in love with Sage the minute I saw her.”
“Did you two marry young?”
Roak shook his head. “No, I had to chase her for a while; then she shot me and I gave in.” He laughed. “I’ll tell you the whole story someday if you have the time. Who knows, I hear you’re a writer, you might even write it down.”
“I’d like that.” Andrew limped into the kitchen with his cane. “Beth brought over enough supper for an army. Will you join me?”
He shook his head. “I’ve already had some of Jessie’s cooking, but I’ll have pie and coffee. No sense in walking back to the house before the kids are asleep. Four boys in the house does more than double the noise.”
Andrew offered him a chair, realizing that this was Roak’s house. “Thanks for letting me recover here at your place.”
“You’re welcome. We don’t get a chance to use the cabin much anymore. Sage likes to be in town in case someone needs her, and nothing’s changed with me. I like to be where Sage is.” He poured them both coffee while Andrew lowered into a chair.
When Andrew didn’t say anything, Roak leaned closer. “What’s on your mind?”
With total honesty and leaving out no details, Andrew told Drum about meeting the Peterson gang. Of traveling with them. Of trying to stop his friend from climbing on the train. Of saving Beth, and how she pulled off the bandanna that tied him to the gang and probably saved him from going to jail.
Roak asked a few questions, but for the most part he just listened. Andrew told him what he’d heard about Beth buying his horse from an outlaw in the middle of a gunfight, but he left out the mess they’d faced with Lamont LaCroix later that night.
When the sheriff refilled their coffee, Andrew reached across the table and handed Roak the pouch. “All we can figure out is that Peterson must have stuffed this into my saddlebags. It’s a map to what Chesty called the Gold of the Palo Duro. He claimed a cave in the canyon held more gold than the entire gang could spend in a lifetime. That was the reason for the train robbery. He said it would give them enough money to buy all they needed to mine a claim and bring it out. Land’s cheap up in the panhandle, and his idea was to homestead a small farm off the rim so he looked like a rancher. No one would suspect.”
Drum looked at the map, but he didn’t seem overly interested. “I’ve heard tales of that gold all my life. Part of Coronado’s search for El Dorado, the city of gold. They say it’s cursed because every man who goes in search of it never returns.” The sheriff smiled. “But you know, McLaughlin, it would make an interesting story for a novel.”
Andrew shook his head. “I don’t care about the gold, or the story. All I’m worried about is Peterson hunting me down to find the map. When he sold Beth the horse he might have guessed she was buying the pinto for me. The only lead he has about where I am is through her, and we left a trail Slim Bates said a blind man could have followed. It wouldn’t take much for him to find out we went to Fort Worth. We stabled our horses in a public livery. Hell, I even left a forwarding address.”
The sheriff leaned back. “I’m not going to arrest you for the robbery. I wouldn’t even if you weren’t married to my wife’s niece. You’re either the greatest storyteller I’ve ever met, or you are the worst outlaw this side of the Mississippi. I’ll bet my badge you weren’t even wearing a gun that night you jumped on the train.”
Andrew didn’t bother to answer. Roak had probably figured out that much, and far more, about him already.
The sheriff continued, “Near as I can tell, half the folks you’ve met since you’ve been in Texas have a reason to kill you. Peterson and his new gang—he’ll have one by now—are coming for you.” He held up one finger. “My guess is he’ll have no trouble taking the map from your dead hand. Then there’s LaCroix, who tried to shoot you.” He held up two fingers. “Now add my brother-in-law, Teagan, who will finish the job if he thinks you hauled his baby girl into this mess.” He lifted three fingers and looked at the count. “You’re a dead man, partner.”
“I know.” Andrew didn’t appreciate the summary of his life these past few weeks. “Any chance you could arrest me and lock me up? Maybe if I sit in jail I’ll stop rubbing folks the wrong way.”
Roak shook his head. “If Peterson can break out of jail, he’ll have no trouble breaking back in to murder you. Beth’s right, you two are safest here. I’ll talk to Tobin and make sure he puts a couple men on guard duty at the bridge. He still rides the perimeter at night, and I heard him say he’s not leaving until Teagan gets back. We’ve got a few old Texas Rangers working here and they’ll probably be happy to hang around the headquarters watching over the place. They may be past their prime, but they’ll know trouble riding in when they see it.”
Andrew felt better just getting the problem out. He relaxed and decided to eat one of the dinners Beth had brought. Roak ate the other one.
Halfway through his second supper, the sheriff asked, “How’d you have time to court and marry Beth in all this mess?”
“I don’t know,” Andrew answered. “It seemed like I got hurt and passed out. The next thing I remember, I woke up married.”
“Yeah, it kind of happens that way. I figured she’d be back from the big house by now.”
“She’s not sleeping here tonight.” Andrew had been thinking about how to handle the question. “I told her to sleep over there. She’ll be safer.”
Roak frowned but didn’t comment. He finished off his second slice of pie and left, saying he’d keep in touch. Andrew walked him to the door and wa
tched him disappear silently into the night.
Then, with his head full of stories, he turned back to his desk and began to write. There was nothing he could do to make things better in the real world; he might as well work on a story.
CHAPTER 30
ON A COLD WINTER MORNING A WOMAN NAMED Maryanne Wells welcomed Colby Dixon into the trading post. She had on a white, starched apron like Madie and Mrs. McLaughlin had worn, so he knew he was speaking to a lady.
She helped him order all he’d need to make his place look like a home. She might have been considered too chatty, but she had three unmarried daughters, so she needed to keep a record of every single man in the county.
A few months ago Colby had been simply a kid, but now that he owned a ranch she said he’d be perfect for Pamela, her youngest daughter. She might be twenty-six, but she looked younger and still had all her teeth.
He picked out dishes as fast as he could. He’d seen all three of Maryanne’s daughters and thought them fair to pretty, but if they talked as much as their mother, he’d go nuts alone with one for days on end. At twenty-six, when she did start losing those teeth, the youngest could move into fair to ugly real fast. If he married her, he’d be stuck with a wife eight years older, a chatty mother-in-law, and two old maid sisters-in-law to support.
On the ride home he figured he’d go south the next time he needed supplies. It would take him a few more hours, but the other trading post owner didn’t even have a wife, much less daughters.
That night, when he looked at the inside of his place, he knew something was still missing. It just looked like pieces of furniture spread around, a few supplies on the shelves, a few pieces of material tossed over benches. It didn’t quite look like a home.
In the few weeks he’d been home, Colby and his three carpenters had made the place look grand. They’d even rebuilt the little fence around the family grave, but it didn’t matter. Colby still didn’t feel like this was where he wanted to be.
Before, when his pa was ordering him around, he hated his life and dreamed of getting away. He’d thought the cattle drives might be the answer, but they were mostly long days of hard work, just like on his father’s ranch.
When the house didn’t make him content, he turned to the ranch, building fences and corrals to be used in the spring. Clearing a field for planting a crop. Stringing wire along his property line. Putting up windmills where streams ran shallow in the summer months. The days were hard. He worked from before sunup to full dark. At night, when he finally hit the bed, all he thought of was what needed doing, not what he’d already done.
Right before he fell asleep, he sometimes remembered how it had felt to kiss Madie. He told himself he’d just kissed her to teach her how a kiss should be. He told himself he was a fool, and alone in his house no one argued with him.
He tried to make his life better. He hired a woman to come out from town one morning a week to clean house and do laundry. He rode into town a few times to eat and bought bread and canned goods that his pa would have thought were unnecessary. Nothing made him happy.
He missed the few days he’d spent with the McLaughlins in Fort Worth. He missed there always being people around to talk to and three meals a day that were edible. He missed playing cards with the boys and talking with Madie. Colby felt like he’d had one small slice of what life was supposed to be, and now he’d be hungry for it forever.
As the first hint of spring came, Colby Dixon was seriously considering running away from home.
He wrote another letter to Madie, even though she hadn’t answered his first two.
CHAPTER 31
ANDREW FINALLY FELL ASLEEP A LITTLE AFTER DAWN. An hour later someone pounded on his cabin door.
Grabbing his cane for a weapon, Andrew limped to the door of his cabin. It had taken him three days after she started sleeping at the main house to convince Beth that she didn’t need to come over until after noon. He had no idea who was bothering him before the sun was fully up.
Pulling the door open with swear words already crossing his lips, Andrew came face-to-face with Father Benjamin. “Hell,” he mumbled at the con man.
Benjamin crossed himself and pushed Andrew aside. “What a way to greet a man of the cloth.” He acted insulted.
“You’re not a man of the cloth.” Andrew scratched his head. “If I remember right, you’re a dead gambler.”
Benjamin shrugged. “Few of us are what we seem.” He raised an eyebrow as if daring Andrew to throw the first stone.
Andrew didn’t take the bait. Benjamin might suspect something wasn’t as it seemed, or he might just be guessing. “If you brought breakfast, come on in. Now that I’m awake, I’m hungry. I thought I made it plain to all that I like to work at night and sleep late in the morning, but apparently you didn’t get the message.”
“Be that as it may, Mr. McLaughlin, I’m here on an errand of mercy. Your wife informs me you’re living out here like a bear in a cave, so I’ve come to make sure you take a bath.”
“Like hell!”
Benjamin frowned. “Find a bigger vocabulary, sir, and she is right, you smell of an odor most foul.”
Andrew wasn’t surprised by his assessment or that Beth had mentioned the smell to him. She hadn’t come within five feet of him in days. Since he’d made her sleep in the main house, she’d been cold as a stranger. She would bring out his food and tidy up, and then she’d ask if she could help him with his work. When he grumbled, she’d leave. She hadn’t been close enough to smell him.
He told himself it was for the best. He wasn’t really a part of her life, just the ghost of a make-believe husband still hanging around. If Peterson did come to kill him, Andrew didn’t want Beth near, but that didn’t keep him from missing her even if she was walking through his life daily. He missed the good-night kisses and her light touches.
“I’ve brought a tub, soap, and pots for boiling water.” Benjamin glared at Andrew. “Mrs. McLaughlin suggested a weapon, in case you fight, but I’ll have you know, sir, I am adept in the ancient art of karate developed in the Ryukyu Kingdom. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating me.” He smiled and added to his résumé, “I also played a butler once in a stage production, so I know what to do to help with a gentleman’s bathing.”
The little man stood straight as if he thought he could threaten Andrew. “You’re going to take a bath, sir. The only question is, will you be conscious or unconscious?”
Andrew didn’t have the energy to fight. He’d been wishing for a good bath for almost a week. Dried blood was stuck to his skin and his beard itched as if it had fleas. “Let’s get this over with.”
Benjamin rubbed his hands together in a frantic kind of way and went to work.
Andrew managed to strip while the pretend priest heated water. The small wound where the bullet had entered was scabbed over, and he figured it would take a washing. The hot water might help his muscles relax.
When he slid into the hot tub, the water felt great. Even the strong soap that burned his nose and scrubbed off a layer of skin smelled wonderful to a man sick of smelling himself.
Benjamin, to his credit, seemed to know what he was doing. He covered the tub with a towel to keep the steam in and repeatedly poured more hot water when needed. By the time the water was at the top of the tub, Andrew had relaxed.
As he washed his hair, he said, “I hope you brought me some clothes.”
Benjamin laughed. “I had quite a discussion with your bride. She seemed to think you needed western clothes, but I insisted that clothes make a proper gentleman, and you, Mr. McLaughlin, are a gentleman. She finally agreed and I brought your black suit and starched white shirt with a proper collar. Since someone sliced your other tailored pair of trousers, Mrs. McMurray insisted on ordering you another suit, but it will take a few weeks.”
“Thanks.” Andrew dunked his head. When he came up spitting soap, he added, “But I think I’ll wear the western style she sent over yesterday and save the suit fo
r when I leave. Maybe it’s time for a change, and the clothes she brought fit with this life.”
The little man didn’t miss a beat. “Very good, sir.” He played the part of a man’s valet for an hour, cutting Andrew’s hair, assisting with the shaving, and even polishing the boots Beth had sent.
“You look like a new man.” Benjamin stood back when his job was finished. “I’ve done wonders.”
“I do feel better,” Andrew answered as he poured two cups of coffee and motioned his guest to take a seat. “Thanks for the help. I almost feel back to normal, whatever that is in my life.”
Andrew sat across from Benjamin and opened the small basket of muffins he’d been smelling for an hour. He took one and pitched one to Benjamin. “Now, when do you plan on telling the McMurrays you’re not a priest? You can’t play this role much longer. You’re bound to trip yourself up eventually.”
“Never,” he answered with a loud sigh. “I couldn’t let them down. They’re all so kind.” He blew on his coffee. “But I’m not taking advantage of their hospitality. I’ve taken on the task of teaching Madie to read and write, and I have morning lessons with the boys.”
“They’re your boys,” Andrew pointed out.
“I never forget that fact. I only regret that I didn’t spend more time with them before now. Their mother was a hard woman to live with. I left her after Levi was born but returned for another try. That was when Leonard came along. I started wandering after his birth. It’s in my blood, but I tried to be a husband. I sent money when I had it but didn’t really know the boys until she died. I kept them with me for a while as I moved around. When that didn’t work I left them with relatives.” He stopped, almost in tears. “That didn’t work out.”
