CantrellsBride

by Suzanne Ferrell

  “I’m safe with you.”

  “I’ll be busy.”

  She didn’t like the sudden turn this conversation had taken. “What will you be doing?”

  “Once we’ve figured out where Blackwood’s holed up, we’ll draw him out into the open and make him come after us.”

  “No! I don’t want him coming after anyone, especially not you. He won’t let you catch him. He’ll kill you both.” Laura gripped his arm tight and stared into his eyes. He had that hard as steel look she hadn’t seen since she first arrived in Doverton.

  “Laura,” Micah drew her attention, his gaze meeting Nathan’s once more. Nathan gave him a nod to continue. “We’re not planning to capture him.”

  “You’re not?” Dread climbed into her heart and planted itself as if it had found a permanent home.

  Micah took another drink of his coffee, then explained. “No matter what he’s involved in, the man is still a member of the British diplomatic representation in Washington. If we simply capture him, he won’t stand trial for his crimes here in America. For all we know he may be working for their government as a spy. They could just ship him back to England where he may or may not be punished. If he isn’t, then he’ll have every opportunity to return and terrorize you some more.”

  “And I don’t plan to give him the chance,” Nathan said with deadly seriousness.

  “If you’re not going to capture him to stand trial, exactly what are you planning to do?” she asked, glancing from one man to the other. She gripped Nathan’s arm tighter, bracing herself for the answer she feared.

  Nathan’s eyes grew even more deadly. “No one threatens my family’s lives.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Nigel watched Lola saunter across the room as the blackjack cards riffled through his hands. Two days ago he’d been hired to replace the dealer who’d supposedly left town without a word. Only he knew the missing dealer’s whereabouts and if his luck held the man’s remains wouldn’t be found until late in the spring thaw.

  He’d hoped to get the information he needed from Lola and dispose of her, but the flighty pigeon hadn’t yet told him the whereabouts of his prey. For the better part of a week he’d listened to her talk about her dreams of leaving the life of a saloon girl to become a writer, even agreeing to read some of her drivel.

  Because the sniveling chit turned out to be so useless, he’d decided to dispose of the dealer and take his place in the saloon. Most of the town’s men came into the establishment at some time or another. He’d hoped to hear the man married to the meddlesome writer complain about her while he dealt cards, but so far he hadn’t heard one word.

  He needed to get back to Washington, but couldn’t leave ’til this matter was concluded. The men he worked for weren’t the type to accept excuses or permit loose ends to remain untidy, and right now he was as much a loose end as the woman for whom he searched.

  Movement at the bar caught his attention. The redheaded storekeeper stepped away and staggered toward his table. His wobble suggested he’d had quite a few beers. Maybe he’d glean some information from him. He dealt the man nearest him a ten of hearts from the bottom of the deck to end the hand and go bust. Now a seat was free.

  “Care to join us for a hand of blackjack, Mr. Jensen?” He shuffled the cards.

  “Than’s, Edward,” the man slurred. “Business has been a little good lately. Don’t mind if I try my luck.” Jensen grabbed on to the chair to steady himself as he noisily sat down. “Just don’t shu be tellin’ Sharah. She wouldn’ understand, you know?”

  The men seated around the table chuckled at the thought of Sarah Jensen chewing her husband out for gambling away any extra money.

  Nigel dealt out one card facedown to all four men. He knew Jensen’s card before he did. Tonight he wanted him to win, not all at once, but enough to make him confident and loosen his tongue.

  After three hands, Nigel had dealt the storekeeper two winners. “You keep this up and you’ll have to write a book on how to win at cards, Frank.” He dealt a seven of spades to the drunk man, a two of clubs to the blacksmith, a ten of hearts to the cowhand and a nine of hearts to Zeke the mule skinner.

  “I don’t know anythin’ about book writin’,” Frank slurred as he looked at his second card, a face card.

  “Lola is writing some books to send back East,” Nigel mentioned as he waited for each man to look at his cards.

  “I’ll jus’ hold on to these.” Frank pulled his cards to his chest. “Who she gonna get to print them for her?”

  “I don’t know. She said there’s someone out here who could help her get them published. Someone who already writes books.” He waited, hoping to get some useful information.

  “Can’t say as I knows anyone who writes. How ’bout shu, Zeke?” Jensen leaned heavily on the table.

  “Nope.” The mule skinner spit at the spittoon. A metallic ring reverberated as the brown stream hit the brass with deadly accuracy. “Don’t know no one who writes. Did Lola tell you who it was?”

  “No.” Nigel chose his words very carefully. “All she said was it was someone who wrote books back East. Maybe someone new to the area.”

  Frank pulled in the pot, then leaned on his elbow, his eyes drifting closed a moment. He belched loudly. “I don’t know of no new people in town, jus’ Mrs. Cantrell. But I don’t thinks old Nathan would let any wife of his write books. I think I better quit while I’m still ahead so Sharah’ll let me keep mine.” Laughing at his own humor, he staggered to his feet and scooped the coins into his pockets. “Night, all.”

  As the storekeeper nearly fell out the saloon door, Nigel couldn’t contain the small smile that crossed his face. Mr. Bailey might be out some money tonight, but it was well worth it to himself to have a name, finally. Mrs. Nathan Cantrell. She was new to the area and quite possibly wrote books. He was called back to the men awaiting their cards by the mule skinner, who was watching him curiously.

  “I bet Mrs. Jensen won’t mind how drunk her husband is tonight.” Nigel laughed with the men.

  Zeke shrugged and turned his card up to see an ace.

  Once he turned the corner to the alley behind the saloon, Frank straightened his back and walked with a more determined stride. He hurried through the back alley toward his own home. He circled the house to the back porch where Micah and Sarah sat waiting for him.

  “The children in bed?” he asked his wife.

  “All but Tom. He’s still out at Nathan’s finishing the milking.”

  “Let’s go inside then.”

  After they disposed of their coats, Sarah poured out three cups of coffee, joining the men at the table. They sipped on the coffee for a minute to warm them.

  “He’s interested, all right. Enough to let me win a hand or two.” In hushed tones so he wouldn’t wake the children, Frank filled them in on the happenings of his encounter with the blackjack dealer. “When I mentioned Nathan’s name his eyes lit up like Chinese fireworks.”

  “I still can’t believe our Laura is mixed up in some murder back East.” Sarah looked worriedly at her husband, tears filling her eyes.

  He took her hand in his. “Laura isn’t mixed up in it, Sarah. She’s just a witness, an innocent bystander.”

  “I know that. There isn’t an evil bone in that girl’s body. I’m worried about her, that’s all.”

  “We all are, honey. That’s why we’re trying to catch this polecat.”

  They all looked up as the back door opened. Tom came in, took off his hat and shook the snow off it. “What did I miss?”

  “Not much.” Micah moved over on the bench to make room for the young man. “Your pa was telling me about the card game. Seems our man Edward is a mite interested in a newcomer from back East who might be helping Lola become a writer.”

  “That’s what Miz Laura is doing.”

  Micah nodded. “It also confirms our thought that he’s the senator’s killer. Now we have to get him out in the open—sort of catch him in t
he act.”

  “What have you and Nathan got in mind?” Frank asked.

  “While our man is listening, Bobby Bailey will let it slip to Zeke that Nathan and Laura will be back in town next week. Then we want you, Frank, to tell him where they live when he asks you.”

  “How do you know he’ll ask Frank?” Tom asked, staring wide-eyed at Micah.

  “Because he’s been searching for Laura for nearly a year. I’d imagine he’s beginning to get desperate.”

  “You figure he’ll try to get Laura as soon as she comes back down the mountain?” Frank squeezed Sarah’s hand beneath his on the table.

  “We’re hoping he’ll try to sneak in their home before anyone really knows they’re back and try to ambush them on their return. Except it won’t be Laura he finds. It’ll be me and Nathan.” Micah studied the faces of his friends a moment. “We don’t plan to let him ever be a threat to Laura again.”

  “You’ll have to catch him in the middle of an attack in order to have the law on your side.” Sarah looked from her husband to Micah and back again.

  “You know better than anyone that these are rough mountains, Sarah.” Micah spoke with quiet calm. She needed to hear the truth. “Mightier men than our killer have disappeared in them never to be heard from again.”

  “Laura don’t need Nathan in jail, not with her having a new baby and Rachel to take care of.” She narrowed her eyes as his words hit home. “Being a widow because her husband is killed or hanged would be even worse for her.”

  “This man Blackwood won’t quit hunting her as long as he lives.” Micah finished his coffee. “Besides, Nathan and I have the advantage.”

  “What advantage, sir?” Tom asked him.

  “He doesn’t know Nathan. No one threatens someone he cares about and lives to tell about it. He also doesn’t know about me. Right now he doesn’t know I exist. That’s our second advantage. Then there’s the territory.” Micah laid out the plan just as he had to his men during the war.

  “How is the territory an advantage?” Tom leaned closer, admiration written all over his face.

  “It’s our land. It’s familiar to Nathan and me, but not our enemy. And the final advantage is he doesn’t believe anyone here suspects him of anything. He won’t be expecting anyone to defend Laura. He’ll come after her and we’ll be waiting for him.”

  “I hope this plan of your works,” Sarah whispered. “I don’t think either Laura or Nathan could stand to lose the other.”

  While the adults talked at the table, Rachel stood next to the ladder to the loft, listening quietly. Tears filled her eyes and her heart beat hard. Her papa and mama were in trouble. Uncle Micah was talking about a mean man who wanted to hurt them. She loved her mama and papa. She didn’t want anyone to hurt them.

  Belle’s mama got up from the table. Rachel tiptoed back to her bed. She’d listen every night until she knew when her papa and mama were coming back. Then she’d tell them to take her and the new baby away. Then no one would hurt any of them.

  She climbed back into bed with Belle and pulled her baby close to her. She’d take care of her baby so the mean man wouldn’t get her either.

  * * * * *

  Just after dusk a week later, Nathan led the two horses up to the Circle B ranch house. He dismounted and tethered the reins on the porch rail. He took William from Laura, then helped her dismount. Silently they walked onto the porch where the door opened to admit them into the dark interior. They followed the dark figure toward the back of the house. Striking a match, David Burnside lit the oil lamp sitting on the table. The kitchen glowed in the golden lamplight.

  “Have a seat there, Miz Cantrell.” The old rancher directed her to the hardwood table and chairs. “I’ve been watching my window for you since I got Micah’s message. That boy doesn’t believe in using too many words, does he?”

  “I asked him to keep his message that short, Burnside.” Nathan helped Laura off with her coat and settled her into the chair, then handed her the baby.

  Burnside poured three cups of coffee, setting one in front of Laura and handing one to Nathan.

  Laura took a sip. “Thank you, Mr. Burnside. You make a good cup of coffee.”

  He smiled at her and shook his head. “Not me. My housekeeper Inga made a pot before retiring for the night.” He leaned his elbows on the table and studied them. “How about you two telling me what’s going on? All Micah said was you needed Laura and the baby to stay here for a while and that you want as few people as possible to know.”

  “That’s right.” Nathan took a long drink of his coffee. The heat warmed him from the inside out. “We need to keep Laura protected over the next few days, possibly even a week or two. Your place is as close as we come to an armed fort in these parts.”

  Burnside nodded, then looked at the small bundle Laura was unwrapping. “That’s a beautiful baby you have there, ma’am. What did you name it?”

  “His name is William James.” Laura smiled at her son.

  “Now why is it that we have to keep you and that little one hidden here?”

  A frown quickly replaced her smile. “Because my foolish husband and his friend are planning to get themselves killed.” She raised her narrowed eyes to glare at Nathan.

  “Laura witnessed a murder in Washington before coming out West,” he explained to the rancher, ignoring her anger. “Now it seems this killer has tracked her here and is working over at The Golden Slipper. Micah and I are planning to remove him as a threat to my family.”

  Burnside rubbed his chin, apparently considering what he’d just been told. “It’ll take more than a few days to get the marshal up here from Denver.”

  “The man is a member of the British embassy in Washington, Dave.”

  “Damn,” the old rancher shook his head. “That doesn’t leave you much choice, does it?”

  “While it doesn’t leave him a choice, or at least he thinks it doesn’t,” Laura interrupted, “it could cost him his life.”

  “Laura, we’ve been all through this for the last week.” Nathan couldn’t hide his impatience. “I wish you’d trust me on this.” He grasped her hand.

  Despite her anger and fear, she squeezed his hand to reassure him. “I just don’t want you to take unnecessary chances. I know you and Micah think you have it all figured out, but I know Blackwood. He’s no fool. Things may happen you haven’t planned for.”

  “That’s why I want you and William to stay out here with Dave and his people. You’ll be safe here and it’ll be one less thing for me to worry about.”

  “I promise to trust you if you promise one thing for me.”

  “What?”

  “Promise me you and Micah will be very, very careful.”

  “Darlin’, I have every reason to be careful. I have two children to look after now, and I have a wife who loves me very much to come home to.” He leaned closer and kissed her lightly on the lips.

  After a moment, the baby began to stir for his late-night feeding. Blushing from the heated turn the kiss had taken in front of their host, Laura asked Burnside to direct her to a bedroom so she could feed her son. Nathan watched her follow the rancher down the hallway, the taste of her still fresh on his lips.

  How had he ever gotten so lucky?

  A year ago he’d been a bitter man with little hope of ever loving anyone again. Now he had a wife who gave so much of herself that even the thought of someone harming him made her fighting angry.

  When David returned from helping Laura settle in a room for the night, he stopped at the door to watch Nathan, who stood staring out the window at the snow-covered barn. The younger man had a dark, brooding expression on his face. He leaned his body against the window frame in apparent relaxation. The impression might fool a less observant man, but Dave had seen this stance many times before in men awaiting an Indian raid. Every fiber of Nathan’s body was tensed for action and he held tight control on his anticipation for the fight to come. Trouble filled the cold Colorado air and Nath
an Cantrell was ready for it.

  “She’s in the middle room on the left side down the back hallway.” Dave went to make a fresh pot of coffee. At least one of them was going to stay awake all night tonight. “Tell me what kind of trouble we’re talking about here.”

  Nathan continued to stare out the window as he filled him in on the senator’s murder, Laura’s flight out West, Blackwood’s appearance in Doverton and the plans Micah and he had made. When he finished, he pushed himself away from the window to join Dave at the table for coffee.

  The whole story was a wild tale. Dave could see why the younger man wanted his wife and child kept safe. Something bothered him though. “Does Laura know why the senator was killed in the first place?”

  “Actually, no. I’ve asked my brother in Baltimore to have a Pinkerton investigate the senator. So far he hasn’t discovered what connected the two of them.”

  David scratched his beard a moment. “Seems to me Senator Anderson figured to play a big part in Garfield’s administration. Then someone shot Garfield, and now he’s dead.”

  “It took him several months to die. If you’re thinking it was an assassination, sure seems like a slow, awkward death to topple a presidency.”

  David nodded. “Just seems funny that the president’s top pick for Secretary of State is killed, then the President is too.”

  “Once Laura is safe, I’ll wire Neil to see if there’s any connection between Blackwood and the assassin.” The younger man drained his coffee, then studied him with an intensity that would’ve made a lesser man quiver in his boots. “For the meantime I’d like as few people as possible know what little information we have. Laura has some friends back East who’ve been investigating on their own. I’d hate for them to be put in jeopardy from something we said or did.”

  “When you do get it all figured out, I’d sure like to hear the whole story.” Dave finished his own coffee, then stood and picked up his rifle. “You go on and get some sleep. I’ve had enough coffee to keep me up all night. I’ll keep your wife and son as safe as if they were my own daughter and grandchild. You can count on it.”