“But that was over a week ago.”
Janette bit her lip, but this time it was to think before she spoke. If what Gabe had said last was true, and she believed it was, Thelma was better off not knowing the entire truth. That Isaac was Sam Bollinger and had already killed one woman.
Turning about, she eyed the destruction before saying, “Well, let’s get some of this carried outside.”
“What carried outside?”
Waving a hand, Janette answered, “Everything that’s broken beyond repair.” Which was just about every piece of furniture in the entire house. Heaving out a sigh, she crossed the room and grabbed an armload of wood that had once been the chairs that she’d sat upon while sewing.
“I’ve been using that as firewood,” Thelma said.
Not deterred, Janette headed to the door. “We can continue to do that. We’ll just stack it on the back porch where we don’t have to look at it constantly.”
“Then we’ll just have to haul it back inside.”
“I know,” Janette said. She’d loved Thelma like family for years, and that also meant she could be as irritating as family at times. The only family she had left. Besides Ruby. Thank goodness they’d gone to Gabe’s ranch and that Ruby was still there.
The back door opened while she was juggling the broken chair pieces enough to reach for the handle. That could have been what startled her, or it might have been the sight of Gabe. Or how, when he grabbed her arms to stabilize her steps, she remembered the way those hands had touched her last night.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
It was a moment before her mind cleared enough to answer. “Cleaning. This place is a—” Evidently her mind wasn’t that clear or couldn’t get over the way he was looking at her. It was different than ever before, except for last night.
Afraid that he was remembering the exact same thing as her, she jumped backward. Due to his hold on her, she didn’t make it very far but completely lost her hold on the pieces of wood. Other than to glance down, Gabe didn’t move as the sticks tumbled to the floor.
The grin that appeared on his face not only showed his dimple, it told her precisely what she hadn’t wanted to know. He remembered everything. Every. Thing.
Heat rushed into her cheeks, and her heart beat so hard it hurt to breathe. And her mind wouldn’t stop spinning.
“Good morning,” he said.
The greeting was so soft and low her insides melted. “G-good morning.” He’d let go of her arms, and the absence of his touch allowed her common sense to return. She stepped back as he bent down to pick up the wood.
Motionless, she watched as he collected it all, stood, turned about and walked back out the open doorway. There was plenty more to be carried out. She should go collect another load. Or she could wait for him to return. That certainly wasn’t like her. But she no longer felt like herself. Not her old self. Too many things had changed. Inside her. And in her life. She could barely remember, barely relate to what her life had been like before she’d left here. Gone to Texas, gone to the Triple C. Met Gabe.
When he returned, two deputies followed him through the back door. Before she could question why, he started directing them to carry out the other piles Thelma had stacked in corners of each room.
As one of the men collected an armful, Janette recognized the remnants of her mother’s rocking chair and a table that used to hold a blue lamp with triple wicks. Mother used to sit next to that lamp and sew in the evenings, rocking back and forth while glancing out the window every few moments with a wistful expression that Janette remembered well. The only time that look had disappeared was when Father returned home.
Her mind snapped back into working order. “Why’d you tell Thelma to start packing things?”
* * *
Gabe had sensed the change in her before it happened. Her spine had stiffened. Her chin had come up and those purple eyes had turned dark. He was glad to see it. Had almost been afraid that this was all becoming too much for her. She reminded him of a sunflower, delicate and fragile, yet strong enough to bend with the wind and end up standing straight and tall again once the storm had passed.
He hoped that was true, because the worst of the storm hadn’t hit yet. That would come when he told her what he’d learned from her neighbor this morning.
“It seemed like a reasonable place to start,” he said.
“Well, it wasn’t,” she said. “I don’t need crates. I need a carpenter. New chairs and tables built. New cabinets for my sewing machines.”
Following her through the kitchen and parlor, he kept his opinions to himself. She would argue no matter where he started, that was a given. He just wasn’t sure how much to tell her at once. Discovering he knew her neighbor had been a shock to his system this morning. One he’d needed. Prior to going next door, he hadn’t been able to keep his thoughts on anything but her.
Her neighbor Kent Nichols had been hired on as a cowboy at the Triple C a few years back and was a Pinkerton agent. One who had enough evidence that Gabe’s blood had run cold at times while sitting in the man’s kitchen.
Following her into her sewing room, Gabe closed the door behind him. The house was nice, as were the furnishings, or at least they had been. Things an army man, especially a captain, could have afforded. However, as Kent had pointed out, Parker had died many years ago. A woman might be able to maintain the house and lifestyle they’d known growing up by sewing, but Janette had done more than that. She’d financially supported her mother, sister, Thelma Hanks and herself for all the years since his death and still claimed to have enough money to support a child.
Gabe didn’t want to believe she knew about any stolen gold, but he couldn’t stop suspicions that said she might. Nichols had planted some of those suspicions, but they’d taken root mainly because of things he’d already known. Anna hadn’t been without money. In fact, she’d had enough for her and Max to travel to Colorado, and then south to Texas. Money for them to live on until Max found a job.
He’d taken all that into consideration, as well as the fact that Kent was convinced Bollinger had killed more than once and wouldn’t stop until he got what he was after.
“Why’d you close the door?”
Gabe leaned against the door to stop any thoughts she might have about skirting around him. “Because we need to talk.”
She swallowed visibly and pinned her bottom lip with her top teeth before asking, “About what?”
He had a good idea what she was afraid of talking about and could relate. He wasn’t ready to examine what last night had done to him either. Therefore, he said, “The evidence is piling up.”
“What evidence?”
He chose to start with the one thing that scared him the most, hoping it would have an impact on her. “Look around, Janette. Whoever did this wasn’t just looking for something. They were set upon destroying everything you had.” Shaking his head, disgusted by what he knew to be true, he continued, “They left just enough to leave you some hope that you can rebuild. And when you do, they’ll be back to destroy it.”
“No, they won’t. You’re just trying to scare me.”
He nodded. “I am trying to scare you. With the truth. Hoping it’ll make you see some sense.”
Her breasts rose and fell as she drew in and let out a breath. The action caused a reaction in him that he did his best to quell.
“And exactly what sense would that be?”
“That you aren’t safe here. That the faster we get you—” he paused long enough to gesture around the room “—and whatever it is you feel needs to go along with us, back to the ranch, the better off we’ll all be.”
“I’m not returning to the ranch.”
“Still stuck on that, are you?”
“This is my home, my business. Which I need to get up and running again as soon as possible.”
“Likewise.”
Arguing wouldn’t get him the result he needed. Taking a step forward, he said, “Your neighbor Kent Nichols isn’t the only Pinkerton agent working on this case. The army never believed they’d captured everyone in the train robberies but didn’t have much to go on because none of the gold ever surfaced.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not here.”
“That’s not what Bollinger told his father. Ed’s cell mate said Sam had proof and had claimed this is where he got it.”
“What sort of proof?”
“A gold coin. That’s why Kent was sent here.”
“To spy on me?”
He shrugged. “And whoever else was coming and going. Did anyone ever give you a gold coin?”
Acting as if it had no consequences, she said, “Customers give me gold coins all the time.”
“Did you give one to Bollinger?”
“I don’t know. He borrowed money more than once.”
“And grew angry when you wouldn’t give him more.”
“Yes. I told you about that.”
Gabe questioned telling her some of the things Kent had revealed. He didn’t want to completely frighten her, but if that’s what it took to get her back to the ranch so he could make sure she was safe, then he had no choice. “The authorities didn’t know Ed Bollinger had a son until after Sam was sent to Leavenworth. Infection had set in his leg, and the woman he killed in Wichita had been trying to doctor it for him in her crib. He claimed she’d made it worse instead of better. When the authorities figured out he was Ed’s son, the Pinkerton Agency was alerted and started tracing where’d he’d been.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
Chapter Sixteen
Not much in life was easy, but the idea, the mere notion, that someone may have died because of her was the hardest thing she’d ever faced. Ever thought of. Gabe hadn’t said it was her fault that woman had died, but she sensed it. Saw it in the remorse that appeared in his eyes.
All things in life had costs, and she’d known that someday she’d have to pay for shooting Isaac, or Sam, but she’d rather face jail time than know she’d caused someone to lose their life. No matter how indirectly.
“Janette, come quick.” Thelma’s shouts filtered into the room. “The sheriff’s here!”
Thelma could be overdramatic, but Janette’s insides said more was happening than simply the sheriff’s arrival. Gabe’s expression mirrored her thoughts, and she rushed through the door he opened.
“That’s your mother’s trunk,” Thelma said. “The one Anna took when she left, and they’re going to pry it open.”
Ignoring Thelma’s near-hysterical prattling, Janette hurried through the parlor and onto the front porch, where the sheriff along with half a dozen other men stood.
“What’s all the commotion, Bowling?” Gabe asked upon their arrival.
“Nothing enters this house without being searched,” the sheriff answered. “This trunk was just delivered by a freight wagon.”
Glancing at Gabe, Janette explained, “It’s Ruby’s things I had shipped from Texas.”
“You either produce a key, or we’ll pry it open,” Bowling said.
“Just hold on, Bowling,” Gabe said while putting an arm around her shoulder.
The sheriff’s attitude didn’t scare her, but she wanted Gabe to know she had nothing to hide. “There are a few of Anna’s and Max’s possessions in it, things I thought Ruby might like to have,” she told him. “I have the key upstairs in my traveling bag. I’ll go get it.”
“Do you want me to go get it?” Thelma asked.
“Yes, please, Mrs. Hanks,” Gabe replied. “The bag. Bring my wife’s traveling bag to her.”
Janette’s stomach fluttered at the way he said my wife. She kept telling herself she didn’t want that, but was having a hard time believing it, and not just because if he wasn’t here she’d be far more afraid of what was yet to come than she was. He made her feel safe, but he also made her feel as if she wasn’t alone, and she was liking that more and more.
Thelma returned with the bag, and Janette removed the key from the inside pouch. Not trusting the sheriff, or just to prove she had some control over what was happening, she unlocked the trunk herself. She also watched as every item was removed and inspected. Once the truck was thoroughly searched and all the items replaced, out of spite alone, she locked the trunk and dropped the key in her pocket.
Gabe grasped her arm as she stood and whispered in her ear, “You don’t have your gun in that pocket, do you?”
“No,” she whispered in return. “Why?”
“Just curious,” he said.
She was curious, too. This was the first morning she’d forgotten it. Even in her own home it had become habit to slip it in her pocket holster while getting dressed.
“We’re prepared to search the entire premises now,” Bowling said.
Completely assured they wouldn’t find anything, most certainly no army gold, Janette waved a hand toward the open door. “Be my guest.”
Gabe pulled her with him as he stepped aside to let the sheriff and his men enter the house. She was sure they wouldn’t find anything, yet was uncomfortable with her house being gone through inch by inch. What if—
“Are you doing all right?” Gabe asked.
She nodded but had to complete her thought. “What if they do find something?”
Without a word, he guided her to where two chairs that ironically hadn’t been damaged sat inside the front porch. As she sat in one, the creak of hinges and thud of a heavy door being opened sounded.
Gabe heard it, too, because as he sat in the other chair, he asked, “What’s in the carriage house?”
She shrugged. “A few garden tools. Our horse died many years ago, and we never replaced him. There was no need. Mother sold the buggy. I stored fabric out there for a while, but the mice got to it, so I never did that again.”
He nodded, but his eyes said he was thinking, and she wasn’t surprised when he said, “I’m going to ask you some questions, and I need you to be completely honest. Even if you think it doesn’t matter.”
He seemed distant, and that sent a spiral of worry up her spine. “All right.”
“You said you gave Bollinger, or Isaac, money. Why?”
Ashamed she’d ever been so foolish, she shook her head. “Different reasons. He always had an excuse. The bank was closed, or they wouldn’t cash his bank draft, or he’d had to pay for his hotel. It was always something and he never asked for much, but it started to add up. When I’d question him about it, he’d promise to have it the next day, and then not show up for a week or so. When he did come around, he would give me some money. Not all of what he owed me, but...” The justifications that she’d created back then appeared again. “It usually occurred when we were out looking at comparable fabrics to what he said he’d sell me and we’d stop to eat. I didn’t expect him to pay for my meals, but—”
“But you didn’t expect to pay for his either,” Gabe said.
Disgrace washed over her. “No, I didn’t.” Needing to redeem herself to him as badly as she’d needed to redeem herself back then, she said. “After I asked Alma Cough about him, I told him I was no longer interested in purchasing any supplies from him. He grew cross but left. I thought it was over. I was relieved. Especially when he didn’t come around for more than a month. Then one evening, I was home alone. Thelma had gone to a church revival.”
“Another church revival?”
His expression made her grin. “Thelma enjoys them.”
“Apparently.” Growing serious, he asked, “Is that the night you shot him?”
Thankful she didn’t need to repe
at that part of the tale, she nodded.
“Is that also when you started carrying your gun in your pocket?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a good thing you did,” he said, reaching over and squeezing her hand.
She wasn’t certain she agreed but knew she’d done what had to be done that night.
He was quiet for a moment before asking, “How much money do you make sewing a dress?”
She didn’t mind his asking, but it did make something inside her grind together. Along with a shimmer of ire came an assault of disappointment. Like others, he thought there had to be stolen money because she couldn’t afford to live on what she made by sewing.
Bitterness burned her throat. “I don’t sew dresses. I sew gowns. Gowns for special occasions that women ask me to create for them and pay me well to do so.” Her mother had been the one who’d simply sewn dresses, but from the time she’d started sewing, Janette’s desires had been to create one-of-a-kind garments. Expensive garments. And she had. “I can show you receipts of how well they pay.” The desk had been damaged, but Thelma had gathered up the papers and neatly stacked them in the one unbroken drawer. In a sense, those receipts were all she had left of years of sewing. Of creating gowns that other women raved over and sought her out to sew another one even more spectacular. “Will that prove to you there’s no stolen money here?”
* * *
The hurt in her eyes caused a knot to wrench inside Gabe’s stomach. He’d been fishing for information, had thought it would be better for her to tell him than to have one of the sheriff’s men discover it.
“That’s what you think, isn’t it?” she asked. “That there has to be stolen army gold here. That I could never make enough money to live on just by sewing.”
“I didn’t say that.” He regretted the words as soon as he said them. It sounded like he was avoiding her question. He wasn’t. He was just trying to find a way to make her see she wasn’t safe here until Bollinger was found and put away for good.
She stood. “You didn’t have to say.”
Gabe considered stopping her but didn’t. Her glare, her attitude reminded him of the day they’d met, in his house, when she’d asked him about being hungry. He hadn’t liked her much that day, only because he hadn’t known her. Hadn’t understood what she’d really been asking him.
Married to Claim the Rancher's Heir Page 20
