Thomas stepped to her side. “Wonder who got hurt.”
“Not Nate.”
Though spoken in a whisper, Rebekah wished she could take the words back the moment they left her mouth, especially when Thomas snorted.
“You spend too much time thinking about him, Rebekah.” He started back down the boardwalk toward the livery. “And you spend too much time with him.”
She stared at his back for several seconds before hurrying after him, her frustration rising. Finally catching up, she clasped his arm and tugged him to a stop. “What is it between you two? Why the anger and distrust? What happened?”
Thomas crossed his arms, making him look burly. She’d be scared if she didn’t know he was a very sweet man. She wasn’t about to take his silence, or his grumpy expression, for an answer. Hands on hips, she planned to wait him out. His groan let her know he’d surrendered.
“I don’t know what it is about the man, but you’re right. I don’t trust him.”
She trusted Nate with her whole heart—could she be wrong? “Why?”
He groaned again, muttering something about why he never got married. “I told you, I don’t know why.” He kicked at a crumpled piece of paper. “Look, Rebekah, there’s just something strange about the man. He’s—secretive, too guarded. In my experience, men like that have something to hide, and trust me, that’s not a good quality.”
She considered his words, her stomach twisting in knots. “I thought all men were like that.”
Jaw dropping, Thomas raised his arms only to let them fall back to his sides. “Women.” He took a step, stopped to pick up the piece of paper, shoved it into his pocket, then started toward home again. He paused when he noticed Rebekah didn’t follow. He made a sweeping motion with his arm. “Shall we, madam? I believe I’m to see you safely home.”
Rebekah narrowed her eyes at him, knowing he was talking about Nate’s request. She groaned in imitation of him earlier. “Men.”
She stomped past him, but not before she saw a grin spread across his whiskered face and heard his quiet chuckle. At least he was in a better mood.
Grant was deposited at a building that looked more like a shanty than the doctor’s office. Since none of the men stayed, Nate went inside to check on Grant’s condition and ended up sitting with him until the doctor had finished doing, as he called it, “all the good he could do.” Now the rest was up to Grant. The doctor said he had a long fight ahead of him.
His anger reignited, Nate left Grant in the doctor’s somewhat questionable hands and went in search of the two young men. He needed to learn their names so he’d know who to ask for next time. Perry could help him with that in the morning. For now, he’d start at the saloon they seemed to enjoy.
With the sun in bed for the night and the moon only a sliver, Nate would have a much easier time stalking his prey without being seen. He only hoped he wouldn’t lose sight of them in the inky darkness.
Deciding to avoid the alley, Nate took the long way to the saloon. He’d hoped to be able to peek through the window, but if he had to guess, the glass hadn’t been cleaned since the building went up. He moved to the doorway and took his time looking at all the faces, but the two men he sought weren’t inside. Pray God they weren’t up to more mischief. Nate ducked into the shadows and continued his search by heading to the next saloon. If they weren’t busy somewhere in the mountains obeying their leader’s orders, they were more than likely busy getting as drunk as they could before passing out. It seemed to be their favorite form of entertainment.
After checking the second saloon and coming up empty, Nate stepped into the alley to get out of the glow of the street’s gaslights. Skittish from his last beating, he took a moment to listen for anyone who might have joined him in the narrow passageway. Hearing nothing more than a chorus of crickets, he concentrated on where he should look next. He didn’t want to go back to the hotel room without some kind of information that would lead him in the right direction.
Frustration rode him hard as he decided to return to the first saloon and wait across the street to see if the men showed. Before he took two steps, he saw Thomas dash along the boardwalk on the opposite side and duck into the alley. Changing his target, Nate scooted farther down his side of the street before racing across to the other side. He poked his head into the alley and listened. Hearing nothing for several seconds, he took a breath, pulled his gun from the holster, and crept into the shadows.
Reaching the end without meeting anyone, Nate peeked out, looking both ways. Thomas was just rounding another corner when Nate finally spied him. He only managed two steps before a gun was cocked behind him, the barrel scuffing the back of his head.
Chapter Twenty-two
“I’ll take that shooter, boy.”
Nate had heard that voice before but couldn’t place where or when. Arms in the air, he tried to hand the man the gun over his shoulder. The man’s barrel jammed harder against his skull.
“Slow and easy, just drop it on the ground.”
Finally recognizing the voice, Nate turned, only to have the gun jab him in the back. “Don’t move. Next time, you die.”
Lifting his hands back in the air, Nate tried again. “Sheriff Caldwell?” Not getting a response, he wondered if maybe he was mistaken. “Sheriff?”
“Take three steps forward but don’t turn around.”
“Sir—”
“Do it!”
Nate obeyed. From the corner of his eye, he saw the sheriff bend down to pick up the pistol, then shove it into his belt.
“Look, Sheriff—”
“Shut your mouth and start walking.”
Nate gave up trying to reason with him and headed toward the sheriff’s office. He’d talk to him there, at least try to explain his actions.
The sheriff poked him in the back. “Where you going?”
Anger flickered, but Nate tamped it down. “To your office.”
“Not there.” Sheriff Caldwell gave him a shove the opposite direction. “That way.”
Nate slowed his steps. “Where?”
“Just walk. I’ll tell you where to go. And keep your hands where I can see them.”
For the first time, Nate’s nerves clanged with alarm. He’d come here knowing to keep an eye on the sheriff, to treat him with suspicion. In a short amount of time, he’d disregarded the information in order to set his sights on someone else. Calling himself every kind of fool, he shuffled the direction the sheriff ordered.
“Just where are you taking our young Nate, Sheriff—and why do you have a gun in his back?”
Nate stopped and looked in the direction of the voice, relief making him sag. Plumes of smoke billowed from the corner of a building before Henry Gilmore eased into view, his ever-present cigar in one hand, the fingers of the other tucked into his coat pocket. He took another puff and blew out a long stream. “Well?”
The sheriff stepped next to Nate, his gun still aimed at his chest. “I caught him sneaking around. I was bringing him in for questioning.”
Henry strolled closer, the street lamp casting his shadow in a long, wavering silhouette. He motioned to the north with his cigar. “If I’m not mistaken, your office is the other way.”
Sheriff Caldwell shuffled his feet. “Yes, well, I—was just gonna, uh, finish up an errand first.”
“I see.” Henry drew himself up tall by taking a deep breath.
To Nate, he looked every bit the military leader he used to be, his bearing bordering on regal. He certainly wouldn’t want to be confronted by Henry at the moment. By the sheriff’s jumpy movements, he felt the same, especially when Henry cleared his throat.
“How about I help you question young Nate so this foolishness can be over and you both can be on your way?” He nodded at the sheriff’s gun. “And I don’t think that’s necessary any longer, do you? Nate doesn’t look like he’s going to run or fight.” He paused a few seconds. “Isn’t that right, Nate?”
“That’s right.” Nate lowe
red his arms, thankful for Henry’s friendship. The sheriff holstered his pistol. “This ain’t the proper way of doing things, Henry, and you know it.”
“Yes, well, proper or not, let’s get off the street.” He motioned with his head. “My shop is right there. What do you say we move inside?”
Nate could almost feel the anger and tension radiating off the sheriff as he tried to decide if he wanted to let Henry tell him what to do. He finally nodded and gave Nate a shove in that direction.
“Let’s get this over with. I got work to do.”
Henry unlocked the door to his shop, then stepped back to let Nate and the sheriff enter. In moments, he had the lamp burning bright, making the shadows retreat and the cigar and tobacco tins glow like he’d lit them too. He blew out the match and dropped it in a small bowl on the lamp stand, each movement slow and meticulous. Nate got the feeling Henry’s actions were meant to irritate the sheriff much more than to keep up a calm appearance. He wanted to smile but figured it would only get him into deeper trouble.
Shoving his free hand into his pocket, Henry turned and eyed Nate through the smoke curling from the end of his cigar. He moved closer to study Nate’s face, then shook his head. “So, young Nate, what had you wandering in the dark instead of resting in your hotel room?”
He wished Henry would stop adding the word young before his name. Made him sound and feel like a boy no older than Andrew. “I was on my way back from sitting with Mr. Zimmer when I saw someone sneaking around the street and alleys.”
The sheriff snorted. “You sure it wasn’t your own shadow?”
Nate ignored the dumb remark. “I decided to follow him and see if he was up to something wrong. With all the fires and explosions lately, I thought it best to check on him.”
Henry nodded. “Sounds reasonable.”
“Really? Then why did he have a gun in his hand?” Sheriff Caldwell dropped onto a chair like the night had taken everything out of him.
Henry turned from the sheriff to him. “Nate? Care to explain that?”
“Sure.” He looked right at the sheriff and motioned to the bruises on his face. “I was beat up a couple nights ago. I didn’t want to take the chance of being caught off-guard again.”
The sheriff’s smile looked more like a snarl. “And yet I got the drop on you anyway.”
“Those bruises didn’t come from a straight-on fight but from someone jumping you?”
The question and concern that should have come from the sheriff came from Henry instead. In Nate’s eyes, that put yet another mark against the lawman. The man had the perfect cover for a blackmailing scheme. Who would suspect a sheriff of such a plot? Granted, he did arrest the two young men the day Nate arrived, but he could have done it to cover his trail, or even to keep his assistants out of trouble.
“Nate?”
He looked up at Henry. “Yes?”
“I asked about you getting beat up.”
“Right.” He had to get a handle on his thoughts. “Two men beat me up in an alley a couple nights ago.”
Henry frowned. “Why?”
With a shrug, Nate shook his head. “You’ll have to ask them. And if you happen to find them, I’d like to talk to them myself.”
“I’ll bet.” Henry rested his hip against a table and brushed something from his pant leg. “You satisfied with his explanation, Sheriff?”
Nostrils flaring and top lip curled under, the sheriff spouted, “Not really.” He turned to Nate. “You shoulda told me about the beating.”
Again, Nate shrugged. “Sorry. But you didn’t give me a chance.”
Sheriff Caldwell glared at him for several long moments. “All right. I’ll let you go.” He rapped his knuckles on the table a few times before pointing his pudgy finger at Nate. “Just know I’ll be watching you, boy. I catch you sneaking around again, and you’ll spend some time behind my bars.”
Nate choked on his next words. “Thank you, Sheriff. Now, may I have my gun back?”
The lawman rose, handed him the pistol, and stomped from the store, slamming the door behind him. Nate turned to look at Henry, who was smiling.
“For such a personable young man, Nate, you sure seem to make people angry.”
Nate laughed. “It’s a gift.”
Henry chuckled as he moved to take the seat the sheriff vacated. “Not many mind getting Paul mad. It’s almost become a game. He doesn’t deserve the badge, but no one else wants it.” He puffed several times on his cigar. “Tell me about the beating, Nate.”
He really didn’t want to discuss it. He’d make the story as short and meaningless as possible. “I left the saloon and cut through an alley to get to my hotel. Two men jumped me.”
“Why do you think that happened?”
He sat back in his chair and ran a hand over his face, suddenly weary. “That, I can’t answer. Like I said earlier, you’d have to ask them.”
Henry eyed him through a curl of smoke. “All right, I’ll let it go. But if I get my hands on those two fools…”
Nate nodded his thanks. “How long has the sheriff worn the badge?”
Blowing out a breath filled with disdain, Henry peered up at the ceiling for the answer. “Let’s see. I’ve been here over a year and he accepted the position not long after that.” He looked back at Nate again. “Why? You looking for a new job? Because I’d be first in line to speak on your behalf.”
With a short burst of laughter, Nate shook his head. “Not a chance.”
Henry slumped against the back of his chair. “Which is why Paul still wears that badge. No one wants to take his place.”
“It’s quite a responsibility.”
Henry cocked an eyebrow. “If you do it correctly, yes, it is.”
Nodding his agreement, Nate had to appreciate Henry’s decency. A thought quickly followed. “What about you? You’d be the perfect lawman—and I’d be first in line to speak on your behalf.”
Henry hooted with laughter, slapping his palm on the table several times.
Nate grinned at his reaction. “Why is that funny?”
Henry held up two fingers, the same ones that held his cigar. “Two reasons, my boy. One, I’m too old. These young ruffians would run me over without batting an eye.”
Nate didn’t agree but let the comment pass. “The other reason?”
“This right here.” Still smiling, Henry rolled the cigar between his fingers. “With that man’s pay, I couldn’t afford these, and I really enjoy them.”
After sharing a laugh, Nate slapped his hands on his knees and stood. “Well, I’ve had about all the fun I can stand for one day.” He held out his hand to shake Henry’s. “You have a good night.”
“Will do. You stay safe.”
Nate spent the walk to the hotel looking over his shoulder. He’d never let anyone get the jump on him again. He was new to the job as deputy marshal, but he was learning fast. Most of all, he hated that it came at the expense of learning the hard way.
Chapter Twenty-three
Rebekah made her way to the front window for what had to be the hundredth time. She stepped back when more customers entered, smiling her welcome before taking one last glance down the street.
Where is he? She’d asked herself that question almost as many times as she’d peered out the window. And what was with all the patrons today? Did everyone run out of supplies at the same time? Did they all have a big town picnic but didn’t invite her family?
Knowing better, she scolded herself for taking her tension out on them. It wasn’t their fault she hadn’t seen Nate in two days. Her father was to blame for that. Never mind the fact that it was to help poor Mr. Zimmer. But if someone tried to blow up the mill with Mr. Zimmer inside, who was to say they wouldn’t do the same to Nate? She mentioned her fears to her father but he only said she was being silly. Why did men always think women silly, when in her opinion, women had far more common sense then men?
After what she’d heard from a good many of the customers who�
�d been through the store, Cora included, she needed to talk to Nate, and she didn’t want to wait another day. But Daddy had Nate spending all of yesterday and again today out at Mr. Zimmer’s stamp mill, going over the machinery and equipment. In an attempt to help keep Mr. Zimmer from losing his business, Daddy had Nate making a list of what they could fix and what they might be able to build, despite the fact that he was still fighting for his life. She figured it was also her father’s way of making sure Nate had a couple easy days to recover from his beating.
After totaling up the purchases of a couple ladies, Rebekah followed them to the door and bid them a good day, just so she could peek down the street again. The moment all the customers had finished their shopping, she planned to make a dash into the livery to see if Nate had returned without her being aware. She needed to know if the rumors about his near arrest being discussed so freely were true.
Rebekah clung to her last thread of patience as she helped the last of the shoppers pick out fabric for a new dress. At the moment, she didn’t care one bit which kind of lace would look best with the chosen material, but she helped Mrs. Stallings finish that small task.
Feeling contrite about rushing the elderly woman out of the store once she’d paid for her purchases, Rebekah charged toward the side door intent on finding Nate. Before she could touch the knob, the door flung open and the man she sought strode through.
Scarcely giving her a glance, Nate gazed around the store, then moved to the back room and gave it a thorough look. “Where’s Thomas?”
Stunned, she stared. “What?”
“Thomas. Your father told me he was in here.”
She nodded. “He was. He picked up some items and left.”
His words were terse, but she ventured a question. “Why?”
“Because I want to know what business he thinks he has up at Zimmer’s mill.”
Rebekah searched her mind for how to defend Thomas and defuse Nate’s temper. “I’m sure Thomas—”
Love Finds You in Silver City, Idaho Page 15
