The glossy ribbon of sugar twisted and turned.
Kate clapped her hands. “Oh, Harvey, that’s amazing. That’ll save us so much time.”
Even Aunt Letty seemed impressed. “I’ll say.”
Looking pleased, Harvey turned the crank faster.
A strand of taffy broke loose and flew across the shop, hitting the dressmaker square in the face. All heads swiveled in her direction and, for a long moment, no one uttered a word.
Then all at once, the most amazing thing happened. The man who hadn’t cracked a smile in all the years Kate had known him suddenly doubled over in laughter, tears running down his cheeks.
One by one, the others joined in until the shop rang out with howls of delight.
Aunt Letty rushed to the dressmaker’s side, her eyes flashing angry sparks. “It’s not funny!” she said, her sharp voice stifling all but a few titters. She tugged on Mrs. Cuttwell’s arm. “Come on, Helen, let’s get you cleaned up.” She coaxed her nemesis around the counter and into the kitchen.
Looking sheepish, Harvey gathered up his machine. “Back to the drawing board,” he said with a nervous titter. With that, he slithered out of the shop.
Kate waited for the others to leave before dropping on hands and knees to scrape the taffy off the floor.
She was still on bent knees when her aunt walked out of the kitchen, her voice preceding her. “Oh good, they’re gone.”
Kate stood. “Where’s Mrs. Cuttwell?”
“She snuck out the back, poor woman.”
Kate raised an eyebrow. Poor woman? She wrapped the glob of taffy in paper and dumped it into the wastepaper basket. “That was a very kind thing you did. Can I assume that the two of you have put your differences aside?”
When her aunt said nothing, Kate studied her vacant expression. “Aunt Letty?”
This time her aunt jumped. “Hmm?”
“I said that was a kind thing you did. Taking care of Mrs. Cuttwell like that. I know she’s not your favorite person.” When her aunt failed to respond yet a second time, Kate joined her behind the counter. “Is something wrong?”
“I was just thinking about Priscilla Manning.”
Kate arched an eyebrow. “What about her?”
“Remember how she told us she had a terrible premonition that something awful was going to happen? Then a day later, a blue norther blew down her house.”
“That happened years ago, Aunt Letty. Why are you thinking about it now?”
“I have a similar feeling.”
Kate glanced out the window at the clear blue sky. “You think our house is going to blow down?”
“No, no, no. This has nothing to do with the house. It’s about the man who knocked me down at the bank. Remember I told you I heard his keys rattle?”
Kate nodded. “Yes.”
“I heard those same keys today. Here in the shop.”
* * *
Foster gaped at Brett and waved the stitching awl in his hand. “Shakespeare? Is that what you said? Man alive, you’re out of your cotton-pickin’ mind!”
Brett grunted. No truer words had ever been spoken. Ever since he and Kate had kissed, he’d been half out of his mind with crazy thoughts. Thoughts he had no business entertaining. Thoughts that were tying him up in knots.
As a ranger, he needed a clear, focused mind. That’s how crimes got solved. The muddled mess inside his head was not helping. His thoughts were as jumbled as straw in a mattress. If Foster One got away this time, Brett would have only himself to blame.
As for Shakespeare, he’d known it wouldn’t be an easy idea to sell. Nothing with Foster Two ever was.
“Kate likes Shakespeare.” At least Brett assumed she did based on the number of Shakespeare’s quotes on her store walls. “You need to come up with a way to make up for the mess you made last week. Taking her to Austin to see one of his plays is just the thing.”
“Mess?” Foster slammed the awl on his workbench. “Everything was going just fine and dandy until that blasted calf showed up. You’re the one who suggested I take Kate for a ride by the river.”
“Okay, so things didn’t go as planned,” Brett conceded.
He had no desire to argue. There was too much work left to be done. His latest plan to catch the Ghost Riders had to be foremost in his mind. That’s all he could think about now. Nothing could be left to chance.
He’d purposely avoided the candy shop these past couple of days, as much for Kate’s sake as for his own. He’d told himself that nothing had changed after their kiss, but that wasn’t true. Their kiss hadn’t just left its mark; it had been a source of guilt, not just for him, but for her as well. He’d witnessed it in her eyes, heard it in her voice, and for that he felt bad. Really bad. Obviously, she still had feelings for Foster and was just as anxious as he was to forget what had happened.
“Tell me, Foster. Do you love her?” The question was not his to ask, but he had to know the depth of Foster’s feelings. Had to know that bringing them together really was the right thing to do.
“What?”
“I said, do you love her?” Do you dream of her at night? Do you ache to hold her in your arms? Does each second away from her seem like hours?
Foster frowned. “What kind of question is that? ’Course I do. Do you think I’d go to all this trouble if I didn’t?”
Brett sucked in his breath. “What about Kate?” He hated himself for asking. Hated himself for hoping the question brought doubt to Foster’s eyes. The Tucker blood ran thick through his veins, and he was no better than his brother. God help him. “Is there any doubt that she might not share your feelings?”
Foster looked affronted. “She’s got as many locks on her heart as she has in her hair, but that’s about to change. After what happened with that cow, she’s been real nice to me.”
“All right then, so what’s the problem?”
“I have a business to run,” Foster said, indicating the still-unfinished saddle. “I can’t just close up shop.”
“It’s only for a day. And it’s time to put your ring back on her finger where it belongs.”
He couldn’t tell Foster that the real reason he wanted Kate out of town was so she would be safe. If one or more of the Ghost Riders got wind that she had played a part in trapping them, there was no telling what might happen.
“A day in Austin should do the trick.”
Foster didn’t look convinced. “It sounds like another one of your harebrained schemes.”
“Trust me on this, it’s not.”
“Trust you!” Foster’s lip curled. “Kiss her till dawn, you said. Heck, after rescuing that blasted calf, I couldn’t even get near Kate with my swollen face, let alone kiss her.”
A pain shot through Brett’s middle. Foster would have to mention kissing her. He cleared his throat. “There are no cows in a Shakespearean play.”
“That doesn’t mean the plays don’t stink!”
“Come on, Foster. Think about it. Kate likes the Bard. She even adds his quotes to the candy she sells.”
Foster scoffed. “Easier to quote Shakespeare than to sit through one of his plays.”
“Trust me, it’ll be the perfect day.”
“Yeah, like the drive by the river was supposed to be perfect. Like the dinner at the hotel was supposed to be perfect. Like—”
“This time will be different, I swear. You take the train to Austin. Go to the theater. On the train ride back, just as the sun is setting in the west, you propose. No cows. Guaranteed.”
Foster scowled. “What’s with you and the sun?”
Brett’s casual shrug belied the seriousness of his thoughts. He couldn’t admit the truth. That the golden rays of the sun set Kate’s hair on fire and made her eyes sparkle like blue glass. Nor dare he say how the sun’s warmth was a reminder of her brillia
nt smile.
“The sun stands for…consistency, like love.”
How he came up with that explanation on such short notice, he had no idea. But it did the trick. The stubborn look on Foster’s face was now tempered with hope.
“You think this plan will work?”
“Of course it will work. Just act like you’re enjoying the play. It’s a comedy, so laugh when others laugh and clap when they do.”
Foster still didn’t look fully convinced. “I don’t know…”
“Kate will love it. You know she will. And what better way to prove that you’re a changed man?”
He felt bad for forcing Foster into something he didn’t want to do, but it was for his own good. With a little luck, the plan to capture the Ghost Riders would succeed, but there was always the possibility that something could go wrong, prolonging Brett’s time in Haywire.
When Kate returned from Austin, the ring had better be on her finger. Because if it wasn’t, there was no telling how much longer he could keep his feelings to himself.
“You can do it,” he said. “Shakespeare is a small price to pay for spending the day with the woman I…uh…you love.” He hated pleading with the man, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
When Foster still hesitated, Brett sighed with impatience. “Come on, Foster. Think about it. A whole day alone with Kate.” He spaced each word for emphasis. “What could possibly go wrong?”
24
Spending time locked up in an underground cavern with the sheriff was Brett’s idea of hell, but he was determined to make the best of it.
That was more than the sheriff tried to do. Instead, Keeler spent his time pacing the cavern and staring daggers at him.
“So, where are they?” he asked for perhaps the hundredth time in the last two hours.
Seated on the ground, Brett held his pocket watch close to the lantern light and checked the time. It was just a little after one p.m. “The stage should be arriving any minute now.”
That meant that in less than an hour, this should all be over and the Ghost Riders would be wearing steel bracelets. He hoped and prayed that Foster One was among them.
The scene was set. Deputy Sweeney was now in position. His job was to give chase. Once the Ghost Riders entered the underground cave, Brett and the sheriff would take over. Brett anticipated no problems. The element of surprise was on their side.
The hardest part was waiting. Not only did he have to ignore the sheriff’s caustic remarks, but he also had to keep pulling his thoughts away from Kate. Even in the dark gloom, he could picture her big, blue eyes and brilliant smile. At times, he even imagined her laughter and visualized the way she…
He groaned inwardly. Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not going there. Never again.
It was over. Whatever hold she had on him had to stop. By now, she and Foster should be at the theater. If Foster played his part as they’d rehearsed, Kate would soon be wearing his ring.
Over.
Grimacing, Brett shifted his weight. The ground was hard and seemed to grow harder with each passing moment.
The sheriff continued pacing. “What if they don’t show?”
“They’ll show,” Brett said, sounding more confident than he felt.
This time, the sheriff stopped pacing, a derisive look on his face. “And if they don’t?”
“Then we have a problem.”
The sheriff’s eyes filled with contempt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means our plan wasn’t as foolproof as we thought.” Brett let that sink in a moment before adding, “You sure the telegraph sent to the express company was in code?”
“’Course I’m sure. What do you think I am? An idiot?”
“Okay, then. There’s no way that the Ghost Riders can suspect a trap.” Even the stagecoach driver didn’t know that the strongbox he was transporting was filled with rocks instead of gold coins. “Only you, me, and Sweeney know the full plan. If something goes wrong…”
The sheriff narrowed his eyes. “Go on.”
“Then one of us had to have spilled the beans. And I know it wasn’t me.”
“Are you suggesting that I—?”
Brett shrugged. “It had crossed my mind.”
Keeler frowned. “Had?”
“The other day when I told you to meet me here at this cavern, I found you wandering around looking for it. You had no idea where this hideout was. That seems to put you in the clear.”
Keeler greeted this news with a tight-lipped smile that failed to reach his eyes. “You aren’t suggesting that Sweeney—”
“You trust him?”
“Yeah, I trust him.”
Since they depended on Sweeney for backup, trust was good. “Okay then. We have nothing to worry about.”
The sheriff continued his pacing. After a long silence, he said, “I still think we should have tried to capture them during the actual robbery.”
“It’s easier this way,” Brett said. “And a whole lot safer.” This way, there was little chance of any passengers getting hurt.
He checked his watch again. If his calculations were right, three or maybe even four horsemen should come sweeping down the ramp in less than twenty minutes.
* * *
Kate boarded the homebound train from Austin ahead of Frank. Knowing how much he liked sitting next to the window, she chose the aisle seat. As much as she’d enjoyed the play, she was happy they were heading home.
She’d been frantic all day with worry, though she’d done her best to hide it from Frank.
If things had gone as planned, the Ghost Riders could very well be behind bars right now, and the citizens of Haywire would once again be able to rest easy.
She chewed on a nail. But what if something had gone wrong? Brett and the sheriff weren’t on the best of terms. And what if the Ghost Riders suspected a trap?
She prayed now as she’d prayed all day. Oh God, please keep Brett safe.
“Whew,” Frank said after settling in his seat and adjusting the window shade. “I thought all those curtain calls would make us miss the train.”
“See? I told you not to worry. We made it with time to spare.”
Resting her head on the back of her seat, she closed her eyes. It had been an excellent production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, the best she’d ever seen, and some of her favorite quotes from the play were still ringing in her head. One line especially kept running through her mind: The course of true love never did run smooth. She let out a long sigh. No truer words had ever been spoken.
The whistle blew, startling her back to the present. The train rolled forward with a jerk before gradually picking up speed. Soon, the scenery whizzed by in a blur outside the dusty windows.
She nudged Frank’s shoulder with the tip of her folded fan. “Thank you for everything,” she said. It had been obvious how much Frank hated the play, but he’d been a good sport and hadn’t complained. He’d even managed to laugh and clap at the right times, though she could tell his heart wasn’t in it.
When he failed to respond, she asked, “You okay?” He’d hardly spoken a word since leaving the theater.
“Yeah, sure, I’m fine.”
“It wasn’t too awful for you? The play?”
“It was worth it, knowing how much you enjoyed it.”
“I did enjoy it,” she said, but the theme of appearances versus reality had hit close to home. As much as she’d enjoyed the play, it’d had an unsettling effect. She pulled her fan away and tucked it in her purse. “Lately, you’ve said the nicest things. It’s almost as if…”
His gaze sharpened. “What?” he asked. “It’s almost as if what?”
She tried putting her thoughts into words. “Like you’re…two different people, and I don’t know which one is real.”
His eyebrows rose like half-moons. “I’m real,” he said, pinching his arm through the sleeve of his shirt to demonstrate. “See?”
“You’re completely missing the point,” she said with a sigh.
“Don’t you like this new me?” he asked.
“Yes, of course. But it takes some getting used to,” she admitted.
She kept waiting for him to fall back into his old ways, but he hadn’t even gotten jealous when the conductor smiled at her. Or at least not that he’d let on. He’d simply shoved his hands in his pockets and whistled like he hadn’t a care in the world. Though to be honest, his annoying new habit of whistling was beginning to get on her nerves.
Kate shifted her gaze to the window. She’d accused him of not trusting her; now she was the one unable to trust him—or at least the new him—and for that, she felt bad.
They rode in silence for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Next to her, Frank kept checking his watch.
The crimson sun slowly sank, staining the western sky a vivid red. Shadows yawned and stretched over hill and dale. Frank seemed to grow more restless with each passing moment. He jiggled his leg, tapped his fingers on the armrest, and kept looking out the window.
The gentle motion of the train had put the baby across the aisle to sleep on her mother’s lap. Now, the only sounds were the murmur of low voices and the clickety-clack of train wheels against iron rails.
Kate’s eyes drifted downward. She was about to sink into slumber when something startled her. Her eyes flew open. Much to her surprise, Frank had left his seat and was kneeling on the floor in front of her, a serious look on his face.
Thinking something was wrong, she sat forward. “Frank, what is it?”
Seeing the ring in his hand, her mouth dropped open. Was he really going to propose to her here? On a crowded train?
Glancing at the other passengers, she whispered, “Frank, I don’t think this is a good idea.” She wasn’t even sure she was ready to give him an answer. At least not the one he obviously expected.
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