by Linda Ford
“Picked him up straightaway. Didn’t put up too much of a fight. I suppose he didn’t figure anyone around these parts would recognize him.”
For once, doing the right thing had resulted in something good. Maybe not for him, but that wasn’t the point anyway. “Excellent.”
The sheriff pushed his hat back on his head with the tip of his index finger. “And how did you come to recognize him, Mr. McCoy?”
Shane scratched his temple and stared at the floor. “Long story.”
The question had nagged him as well. How had Tessa known the identity of the outlaw? He shrugged. She probably saw all sorts with people coming and going from the café.
“Understood.” The slender man touched the gun strapped against his thigh. “You’d best not stick around, just in case.”
“Trust me, there’s not a chance he’ll connect me with his capture, but I’ll be on my way all the same.”
“Not so fast. You haven’t told me where you’d like the reward sent.”
Shane considered and discarded several possibilities. Best not to leave a trail that might lead back to Miss Spencer. “Send the money to Marshal Cain in Cimarron Springs. He’ll know what to do.”
Once Miss Spencer was settled, he’d make arrangements to have the money transferred. She’d spotted Dead Eye first, after all, and the money was hers. The sheriff jotted down a few notes and went about his business.
His steps dragging, Shane returned to the hotel. Separating from Tessa was for the best. Being around her stirred up a sting of loneliness. Always before he’d thrown himself into work when the yearnings for companionship had grown too distracting, exhausting himself in body and spirit. The children had forced him to keep a part of his heart open, and he’d be wise to be on his guard in the future. Tessa reminded him of Abby when they were young, full of hope and hungry for adventure. He didn’t want to see that optimism fade.
He rapped on the door and Miss Spencer appeared, holding a finger over her lips. A scowl darkened her brow.
“Shh,” she ordered. “They’ve fallen asleep.”
Somehow or another she’d draped the stained portion of her skirt like a fall around her waist, cleverly disguising the spots. There were damp portions around her collar where she’d scrubbed at the rest of the marks, and he forced his gaze from the charming sight. His was an honorable mission, and he did her a disservice by thinking of her in any way other than an unexpected acquaintance.
She slipped into the corridor and quietly shut the door behind her. “Where have you been? What took so long?”
“I’m sorry. I can explain.” He handed over the wanted poster. “They’ve picked up Dead Eye Dan. You’re safe now.”
Her face grew ashen. “What have you done?”
He gripped her shoulders, shocked by her violent trembling. “He’s behind bars. He can’t bother you anymore.”
She vigorously shook her head and backed away. “You don’t understand. This is worse. This is much worse.”
“There’s a reward.” His declaration only sent her stumbling farther back, and his hands dropped away. “I had it sent to Marshal Cain in Cimarron Springs. The outlaw will never guess your identity. Contact the marshal and he’ll make the arrangements.”
Her pale lips pinched together. “I wouldn’t touch a dime of that money if my life depended upon it.”
“Why not? You spotted him. You’ve earned that reward.”
“Because it’s dangerous, that’s why. Claiming the reward money will lead the rest of his gang directly to me.”
Her fear instantly made sense, but there was an easy enough solution. “Come with us to Cimarron Springs, help me with the children. I’ll pay you for your trouble. I’ll even claim the money myself and hand it over to you. That way, you’re not involved.”
She jerked her head in a negative gesture. “You’ll put yourself in danger. I won’t allow that.”
“I’m a grown man.”
“You’re a father. You should consider your children. Lawmen aren’t always honest.”
The skeptical edge in her voice stiffened his spine. “I trust the marshal in town. He’s married to my cousin. He won’t put either of us in danger.”
Her shoulders slumped. She opened the door once more and stared into the room. He caught a glimpse of Alyce and Owen asleep on the bed, curled around each other like puppies, a bolster of pillows surrounding them.
“I know you’re strong,” he said. “I know you don’t need my help, but I need yours.”
Blood rushed in his ears. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d asked someone for help. He’d been independent since the moment his father had walked out on them, and he liked it that way. As long as he didn’t count on people, they didn’t let him down. Since arriving in Wichita, he’d felt as though he was unraveling bit by bit. If he let this go on any longer, there’d be nothing left of him.
“Never mind,” he said, reaching for the key. “It’s been a long day. I appreciate everything you’ve done. I had no right to ask for more.”
She yanked her hand out of his reach. “I’ll help you.”
It was too late to take back his offer, and gratitude and shame warred in his chest. She’d agreed to help him. She’d agreed because she’d seen him weak.
Tessa hesitated. “I’ll leave Cimarron Springs as soon as the reward arrives. You know that, right?”
“I know.” Earlier, a selfish part of him had hoped she might consider staying on, just until he found a suitable replacement, but she’d obviously anticipated his appeal. “I understand.”
Tessa had called him a good father before. She’d said he was doing the right thing by keeping the children with him. The truth was far less charitable. He wasn’t a fit parent for the children any more than Mrs. Lund. By refusing to face the impossibility of the situation, he’d been lying to himself rather than doing what was best for the children.
“Four o’clock,” he said, replacing his hat. He was done being weak. Once they were all back home, he’d finally make things right, even if it shattered him. He’d put himself back together before; he knew how the pieces fit. “We leave at four.”
Now that he’d committed to his decision, a cynical relief surged through his veins. The reward money made everyone’s life simpler. Without Tessa, there’d be one less person in town who’d been disappointed by him.
As long as nothing unforeseen happened, they’d never see each other again after the journey’s end. She was as good as gone. At least there was nothing left to go wrong.
*
“The reward money has hit a snag.” Marshal Garrett Cain spoke from his seat behind his desk.
“What kind of a snag?” Tessa demanded, covering the panic in her voice. “I was hoping to avoid a delay.”
She needed the money quickly. She’d already been in town for three days. That was long enough. Too long, really. She feared she’d run into Shane once more, and the cold shoulder he’d given her upon their arrival had made it abundantly clear that her presence was unwelcome.
“Let’s give Shane a few more minutes.” The marshal shook his head. “He needs to hear this, too.”
Tessa stifled a groan. Perched on the edge of her seat in Marshal Cain’s office, she tucked the edges of her skirts around her frozen ankles. Wind whistled beneath the door and frost coated the windowpanes.
She shivered and tugged her coat tighter. “There’s no need to bother Mr. McCoy, is there? This really doesn’t concern him.”
Though Shane’s rejection had hurt her more than she cared to admit, his absence was for the best. She was putting them all in danger the longer she stuck around.
“He’s on his way already,” the marshal said.
Perfect. She offered a tight-lipped smile of acknowledgment. Just what this day needed.
All the little nagging worries she’d harbored piled up around her in a suffocating heap. She’d had no more success in contacting Emmett, which meant her meager savings must stretch indefini
tely. Though she’d scoffed at the reward before, a few days of introspection had given her clarity on the matter. Considering her situation, money was a good thing. Someone was going to collect that reward, and it might as well be her. Since she was no longer an outlaw, the code didn’t apply anyway.
She glanced across the desk separating them. The marshal held her gaze with a benevolent expression she imagined he normally reserved for relaying the news of untimely deaths.
“I don’t suppose your news is good news?” she asked.
“Nope.”
On that less-than-cheerful note, he stood, plucked several pieces of wood from the stack near the potbellied stove and stoked the fire. Though clearly not the best conversationalist, he was a fine-looking man with dark hair showing a feathering of gray at the temples. The lawman had a forthright manner and a direct approach that compelled honesty. The kind of man Emmett avoided at all costs.
Her mouth went dry. “You have me worried, Marshal Cain.”
And that was saying something.
The door burst open in a flurry of cold air and a young girl scooted inside. Realizing she had a brief reprieve before Mr. McCoy arrived, Tessa forced the tension from her shoulders. The newcomer flipped back her coat hood and stomped the snow from her boots on the rag rug.
The young beauty was in her midteens, showing the first blush of womanhood with her bright blue eyes and curly corn silk hair. “Shane is on his way,” the girl said. “He’s talking with Mama now.”
The marshal assisted her with her coat. “This is my daughter, Cora. Cora, this is Miss Spencer.”
The girl held out her hand. “Hello. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Tessa tucked an escaped tendril of hair behind one ear. “Surely not. I only met your father this morning.”
“I didn’t hear about you from Papa.”
Heat crept up Tessa’s neck. Shane must have spoken of her—but why? She doubted she’d made much of an impression. Touching her cheeks, she hoped they weren’t flaming as hotly as they felt.
The marshal ushered his daughter through a second door at the rear of the office. Tessa caught sight of a jail cell and a flight of stairs through the opening.
“Enough, Cora,” the marshal ordered. “You’re making our guest uncomfortable. I’m guessing your mother will be along soon. Why don’t you run along upstairs and put on some coffee? You know where to find everything.”
Yep. Tessa’s cheeks were definitely flaming.
A gust of winter bluster indicated another arrival. Her heartbeat thundered and the freshly stoked fire suddenly turned the room blistering hot. Shane stepped inside and turned toward the coat hooks, presenting her with his profile. The corners of his mouth drooped at the edges and his eyes were tired and bloodshot, as though he hadn’t slept in a month of Sundays.
He hung his hat on the peg near the door and ducked his head. “Miss Spencer.”
“Mr. McCoy,” she replied, matching his formal tone.
He didn’t appear at all happy to see her. Not that she’d expected cartwheels and a jig, but a friendly smile might have been nice. He’d asked for her help before and she was only here at his request, yet he was treating her as though she’d somehow offended him. Crossing her arms, she looked away.
He didn’t even have the courtesy to bring the children. Certainly he knew how much she missed them.
The marshal resumed his seat behind the desk. “Thanks for coming out, Shane. I figured the two of you should hear this at the same time. I just got word from Wichita. Dead Eye Dan Fulton has busted out of jail.”
Chapter Four
Tessa gasped and bolted upright. “When?”
“Last night.”
Panic rose like bile in her throat. “Who broke him out?”
As though she had to ask.
“His brothers,” the marshal replied grimly.
She didn’t believe in luck, but she was starting to believe in bad luck. Here she’d been lulled into a false sense of safety, thinking she might actually claim the reward money and sleep a full night through for once.
Tessa turned her fear on Mr. McCoy. “I knew this would happen.”
“I was trying to help,” he wearily replied.
She splayed her fingers over her eyes. Terror definitely had a way of making her forget herself. While she had perfectly valid reasons for being angry with Shane, the outlaw’s escape wasn’t one of them. If she’d told him the truth about her connection to Dead Eye in the first place, then they wouldn’t be in this mess. She had no one to blame but herself for this particular disaster.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Of course you meant well. I was surprised, that’s all.”
“What about the reward?” Shane demanded.
“Rescinded.” The marshal held up his hands in supplication. “Didn’t say I agreed with the decision.”
“We caught him.” Shane’s voice vibrated with suppressed anger. “It’s not our fault they couldn’t hold him.”
Tessa unconsciously touched his hand, instantly realized her mistake and snatched it back. “The money is the least of our worries. What if he follows us here?”
Ten minutes ago all she’d cared about was the reward money. This news had her caring more about saving her own hide. She’d given the Fultons two reasons for tracking her down: she’d serve as bait for Emmett, and they’d have their revenge as well.
Her hands trembled and she balled her fingers into tight fists. She had no desire to experience Fulton revenge.
The marshal kicked back in his seat. “Without the reward, there’s no way the Fultons can trace the money back here. You’re sheltered in that regard.”
“I suppose that’s something,” Tessa muttered. The men gaped at her. “That’s good for us. For both of us,” she amended.
Talk about a tangled web. If only her father had been a cook or blacksmith or a farmer. Something simple and ordinary. At least Mr. McCoy and the children were safe. Dead Eye was much more likely to connect the dots between her disappearance and his capture than a handsome widower and his children passing through Wichita.
“I have some contacts,” the marshal said. “People I trust. I’ll put out the word, see if we can track them.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Shane replied.
Her slim hope of ever living openly as Tessa Spencer evaporated like the mist. Here she’d been twiddling her thumbs while searching for Emmett, thinking he’d fix his problem and solve hers as well. No more. She had to disappear. Really disappear. Not this skulking about, hoping for the best. She’d go so deep into hiding, not even Emmett could find her. She’d become an entirely new person, with a new name and a new identity, someone no one would suspect.
She’d worry about honesty and good deeds later. Staying alive was a key factor in accomplishing those tasks anyway.
She tipped back her head. “Why are You doing this to me? I’m trying. I’m really, really trying.”
You’d think there’d be a little more grace and a little less punishment for those folks who put in the effort. Why did it always seem the dreadful people of the world like Dead Eye always landed on their feet like spry cats, whereas she’d only tried to right a wrong and tumbled right off the ledge and into the abyss? Even Emmett had a talent for squeezing out of difficult situations, and he wasn’t exactly a saintly figure.
The marshal frowned. “Who are you talking to?”
“God,” Tessa replied with an apologetic wave toward the ceiling.
Railing against God probably wasn’t the best solution. Clearly she had more work to do on her spiritual training.
Shane followed her gaze upward. “Does He answer?”
“Yes.” Tessa grimaced. “Only His answers are very perplexing.”
The lawman didn’t appear shocked by her outburst, which was something at least. In his profession, he’d probably seen far more unusual things than a woman talking to the ceiling.
“Do you mind sticking around for a moment?” The marsh
al straightened. “Shane and I have another matter to clear up as long as he’s here.”
“Don’t give me a second thought,” she replied gingerly, ignoring his piercing stare.
He was making excuses to hold her here, no doubt, waiting her out in case she collapsed into hysteria. Which she had no plans on doing. She was made of sterner stuff. Emmett hadn’t raised a wilting flower. She might have drooped a touch, but she definitely wasn’t wilting.
Hugging her arms over her chest, she stood, crossed the short distance and stared out the window. Towns had personalities, the same as people. This one screamed respectability! The boardwalks had been swept clean of snow, lethal icicles had been chipped from the eaves and black smoke pumped merrily from the chimneys. Emmett had never lingered in towns like this. Respectability made him nervous. Perhaps that was why Shane had been so cold once they’d reached town. Maybe he sensed she didn’t belong.
Which begged the question—where did she belong?
Since arriving on the train, she’d known there was no way of watching the children without attracting unwanted attention. Her previous hunch had been correct; she was too young and too, well, too unattached. She’d spent twenty minutes escaping an interrogation from Mrs. Stuart in the mercantile yesterday. Even arriving on the same train with Shane had piqued the woman’s curiosity.
The marshal focused his attention on Shane. “How’s that mare? The one that ran into the barbed wire?”
Letting the conversation ebb and flow behind her, Tessa formulated a new plan. First, she’d take on an assumed name. While the subterfuge went against everything she’d fought for, in order to live an honest life, she had to remain alive. Even God had to understand that. Next, she needed an income. She’d checked the board outside the church the day of her arrival, but the only listings were for cattle hands and train workers. Neither of which was suitable. She wasn’t returning to Wichita with Dead Eye on the loose, and the next larger city was even farther away. She was counting her pennies already.
“Shane, you’re wound up tighter than an eight-day watch,” the marshal said. He indicated the fresh blanket of snow outside his window. “You’ll end up frozen in a snowdrift if you insist on traveling in this weather.”
