Wildfire Creek (Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Book 2)

by Shirleen Davies

  “Luke should return soon. Once he does, I’ll speak with him. Maybe convince him to bring back anything of value and stay at the ranch over the winter.” He mounted Hannibal and turned toward home.

  “Don’t count on it. He can be one stubborn cuss,” Bull chuckled, willing to bet Dax would have no luck talking Luke into moving back to the ranch house—especially with Ginny now living under the same roof.

  Big Pine, Montana

  “How do you know Frederick Marlow?” Sheriff Sterling asked Ezra Duncan, who’d agreed to become his newest deputy a couple of weeks before. He’d been introducing Duncan around, giving him his thoughts on the various citizens—good and bad.

  Ezra hung his coat and hat on a rack near the front door and took a seat across from the sheriff, not wanting to bring up a subject which had haunted him for years. He still woke in a cold sweat, remembering the bodies of Marlowe’s wife and son. His own marriage had suffered due to his insistence on Marlowe’s guilt. When the verdict arrived, exonerating the man, his wife had taken their two children back east, unable to forgive him for the senseless death of a woman and child who’d been her friends. Had he not been so stubborn, so vocal about the man’s guilt, perhaps they could’ve worked through the horror. Instead, he’d clung to his belief, at one point implying it had been their own fault for running out of the house toward the posse.

  “We lived in the same town in Nebraska.”

  Sterling watched the man’s expression change, his gaze remote as if he were trying to block something painful from his mind. “Anything you want to tell me about the man?”

  Ezra’s gaze shot to the sheriff. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “I didn’t ask the day at the restaurant, but you two didn’t appear to have a cordial exchange.”

  Ezra stood and walked to the window, looking out at a darkening sky. He didn’t look at the sheriff as he spoke.

  “We have a history. All the evidence pointed to Marlowe as being part of a gang terrorizing the area. My facts were wrong and a jury found him innocent. For me, the verdict came too late. I’d made a series of bad decisions, one ending in the death of his wife and son.”

  “Shit,” Sterling muttered, trying to understand how the deaths of two innocents could’ve happened.

  “A witness claimed Marlowe was part of a group of raiders who’d been stealing and killing for months. I selected the first few men who volunteered to ride out with me to Marlowe’s ranch. Turned out, they had no intention of listening to my orders and were more inclined to shoot first, then ask questions.” Ezra turned from the window and fixed his troubled gaze on the sheriff. “Their deaths were senseless, and I was to blame.”

  “Appears you still blame yourself.”

  “You can never reverse the deaths of two innocent people. Nothing you ever tell yourself makes it right or erases it from your mind.” Ezra grabbed his hat and coat, then grasped the door handle. “Unless you have an objection, I’ll make the rounds.”

  Sterling shook his head and watched him leave. He’d heard about the troubles in Nebraska, the reason Duncan had quit his job as sheriff and left the territory. He hadn’t known the family’s name, or that a woman and child had been killed.

  When he’d realized Duncan knew Marlowe, Sterling hoped he’d be able to learn more about the man and how he’d come upon what seemed to be considerable wealth. He’d paid cash for a home which had been abandoned, furniture and all, by the previous owner. According to the banker, he hadn’t balked at the price. He’d wired for funds from a bank in Moosejaw, and the home had been his within days, then Marlowe had disappeared.

  Sterling hadn’t seen Marlowe for a couple of weeks after the purchase. He’d returned to show the house to Mrs. Felicity Baker, the widow of one of Sterling’s good friends. The sheriff discovered Marlowe had been courting the pretty, and quite wealthy, widow. He felt he owed his friend to learn as much as he could about the newcomer before Felicity made a mistake, such as marrying the man. Now at least he had some information about Marlowe, albeit slim.

  Sterling pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. It had been a long day, a storm threatened, and he still hadn’t eaten. He slipped on his heavy coat, grabbed his hat, and turned toward the door, nearly getting slammed in the face when Luke Pelletier pushed it open. He stepped out of the way as he and Tom Horton walked inside.

  “Evening, Sheriff.” Luke shrugged out of his snow-covered jacket and walked toward the stove in the corner, rubbing his hands together.

  “Pelletier, Horton. You just get back into town?”

  “Came in from Moosejaw. I’ll tell you, the weather’s getting worse, fast.” Tom followed Luke to the stove, hanging his hat on a hook.

  Sterling shrugged out of his coat and settled behind his desk, curious as to why the jail would be the men’s first stop. “Your business in Denver work out?”

  “It did. If you have time, Luke and I want to talk about the gold robberies.” Tom sat in a chair opposite Sterling and stretched out his legs. “Any more of them since we left?”

  “Not a one. It’s been quiet, as if maybe the gang has moved on. Why?”

  “You heard of Dutch McFarlin?” At Sterling’s nod, Tom continued. “As you know, he and Luke worked similar gold transport robberies in Idaho. They got some of the gang, but the leader and several others got away and headed for Montana.”

  Sterling glanced at Luke. “You told me all this before. What’s it have to do with the robberies here?”

  “From what Tom has learned, Dutch and I believe it’s the same group, headed up by a man named Flatnose Darvis.”

  “I remember the name. Why do you think they’re connected?” Sterling asked.

  “The raids in Idaho were by a gang of between six and twelve men. All used black bandanas. They’d tie the guards to the wagon wheels, unload whatever gold could be carried in their saddlebags, and take off, leaving the wagon, guards, and everything else behind. The raids here don’t appear to be much different from the thefts in Idaho.”

  Sterling leaned forward, placing his arms on the desk, and focusing on Luke. “How does this information help us find this Flatnose fella?”

  “It doesn’t…yet. Once Dutch arrives, we may be able to figure it out,” Luke answered.

  “McFarlin is coming here?” Sterling asked.

  Tom glanced at Luke, then looked back at the sheriff. “It seems the local citizens committee has been in contact with Pinkerton. They’ve asked for another agent on the job.”

  “Damn citizens committee.” Sterling shot from his chair and paced toward the front windows, staring out as snow began to blanket the street. “I don’t know why they keep me around when they make decisions without informing me.”

  “We expected they would’ve let you know.” Luke felt for the seasoned lawman. The committee in Idaho had kept the sheriff informed of their actions, even when they knew he’d disagree. The men heading up the committee in Big Pine saw Sterling as a man at odds with their goals. They accepted his experience, even as they ignored his recommendations and kept him out of their discussions.

  “I believe most of them might make other decisions if it weren’t for the man leading them.” Sterling walked back to his desk and rested a hip against the edge.

  “Who is that?” Luke asked.

  “You don’t know?” Sterling’s expression showed his surprise at Luke’s question.

  “No… Should I?”

  “It’s King Tolbert.”

  Luke’s face hardened at the news. “Tolbert? What the hell is he doing in charge of the committee in Big Pine?”

  “The man has substantial property in this area, including several businesses. He also owns part of at least two gold mines. Both have lost shipments to the outlaws. To be honest, I’m surprised he hasn’t hired his own gunmen to go after the gang. Of course, it doesn’t mean he won’t.”

  “I haven’t met the man. You know him, Luke?” Tom asked.

  “I do. His ranch in
Splendor shares part of our eastern property line. He did his best to run Dax and me off when we took possession of our place.” Luke found it hard to keep the disgust out of his voice.

  “I’ll be meeting with the committee again tomorrow. Why don’t you come with me?” Tom directed his question at Sterling.

  “I might do that. It won’t matter, though. Tolbert sends his demands by telegraph to the committee and they do what he tells them.”

  Luke stood. “Good luck to both of you.”

  “You’re not staying?” Sterling asked.

  “I’m heading back home tomorrow. It’s time I helped Dax with the ranch.” Luke shook hands with both and walked outside, looking up at the sky as he pulled his collar up. He headed toward the hotel, deciding that no matter the weather, he’d be on his way home at first light. He looked forward to his first good night’s sleep in weeks.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Redemption’s Edge Ranch

  “I expect we’ll be back after dark.” Dax slipped into his heavy coat before grabbing leather gloves and walking up to Rachel. “Stay in town if a storm starts up. I don’t want you caught in it.” He leaned down, placing a quick kiss on her lips. “It wouldn’t surprise me to see Luke in a day or two.”

  Rachel thought about Luke arriving to find Ginny working for them. “It might be best for you to be here to explain about Ginny.”

  “Sorry, darlin’, but I’m leaving the explaining part to you. In fact, I plan to be as far away from the house as possible when Luke learns who the new cook is.” He sent her a look, letting her know he still felt Ginny’s presence might create some major problems once Luke learned she lived at the ranch.

  “I believe you’re underestimating him. He’ll see it as a good opportunity for her, and a perfect solution for us.” As Rachel spoke the words, her mind told her Dax might be right. After all, he knew Luke better than anyone. “I’d better get started for town.” She gave him a hug before they headed down the stairs. “Mary, are you ready to leave for school?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She skipped toward the front door as Rachel watched, wishing she had the same kind of energy so early each morning. She’d stayed in bed longer than usual, feeling exhausted, as if she hadn’t slept at all. The same fatigue had plagued her all week. Rachel thought it might be time to mention it to her uncle.

  Ginny followed them outside, noticing the dark clouds approaching from the east. It didn’t bode well for the rest of the day. Still, she felt fortunate. Her job left her inside most days—cleaning, cooking, and doing laundry, which she hung from rafters in the attic. Most days she ventured outside only to collect eggs, or go down into the root cellar.

  “We’ll be home right after school. I don’t want to take a chance of getting caught in the storm.” Rachel nodded toward the horizon, noting the same dense, black clouds as Ginny. “Fact is, I may pull Mary out sooner, if needed.”

  “Whatever you think is best.” Ginny waved as they drove away in the wagon, then hurried inside, shutting the door against a gust of cold air. The last few days had been frigid. Hank expected the heavy snows to start any day, making travel to and from town difficult.

  Ginny looked around the kitchen, deciding what to do first. Dinner would be easy because Dax hadn’t left any men behind, preferring to have every available hand with the herd. It would be just Hank, Bernice, and her. She’d clean the house first, fix dinner, then start on supper.

  She started upstairs, grabbing extra bedding, then stripping Dax and Rachel’s bed. She did the same with the beds downstairs, stuffing as much as could fit in the washtub Hank had placed in the kitchen. Her thoughts turned to Luke as she worked the sheets in the warm water. She wondered if he’d made it to Big Pine, if he was safe, and when he’d be home.

  As often happened when she thought of Luke, she felt butterflies invade her stomach. She knew the reaction had everything to do with her concern about how he’d react when he discovered her at the house—an employee at the Pelletier ranch. The notion stung a little, but not enough for her to walk away from the chance to take care of Mary and save for their own home.

  Ginny still had her mind set on the abandoned house in town. Suzanne had spoken to Horace Clausen at the bank, learning it was for sale and that he’d be willing to make a good deal to anyone willing to clean it up. He, as well as most of the business owners, saw it as an eyesore. Stan Peterman at the general store even mentioned tearing it down, a comment which made Ginny even more determined to save every cent she could.

  Sometimes at night, she’d pretend it belonged to her and Mary. She’d often force her mind from thoughts of Luke, and her conflicting feelings toward him, by focusing on the house and how she’d fix it up, make it her own. The fact she’d need a job in town didn’t deter her fantasies. Even now, as she scrubbed the bedding and planned for what needed to be done for supper, she let her thoughts drift to the house and what she dreamed would be her future.

  Luke pulled his collar up against the chill. He’d left Big Pine well before dawn, taking advantage of a lull in the storm. He made several stops, letting Prince rest and feed on grain Luke kept in his saddlebag. A couple of miles before Splendor, he took the trail north, avoiding the town and riding straight toward home. If the weather held, he’d be at the ranch well before supper. He’d stay at the ranch tonight and catch up with Dax, work with the men tomorrow, then head to his own place. His mouth curved into a slight grin at the thought of his house. He wondered how it had fared since he’d left weeks before.

  The sky began to turn an ominous gray-black as he approached the ranch. He didn’t detect any movement until he approached the barn and saw Hank inside, sitting on a bench, holding something in his hand. He lifted his head and set down what he’d been working on when he saw Luke rein to a stop.

  “Wondered when you’d decide to come back.” Hank took Prince’s reins, allowing Luke to brush off the trail mud and stretch. “You don’t look so bad, considering you’ve been gone for weeks.”

  “Feels like longer.”

  “Go on inside while I take care of Prince. Should be coffee on the stove.”

  “Is Bernice inside?” Luke asked.

  “She’s resting at our place.” He nodded in the direction of the foreman’s house behind the main house. “Doc says it’ll still be a while before she’s able to get about much. Rachel’s at the clinic, and Dax is out with the rest of the men, tending the herd.”

  Luke nodded and headed toward the house. Hank watched him take the steps two at a time and open the front door, glad he’d made the decision to say nothing about Ginny. Better to let Luke find out for himself and decide how he’d handle it.

  Ginny grabbed one more piece of wood. She’d made four trips outside to gather as much as she could for the stoves before the snow started. Several days before, Rachel had watched her do the same, noticing the thin cotton dress Ginny wore under the heavy wool coat. She’d rummaged through a trunk, pulling out a pair of trousers and shirt, and handed them to Ginny, explaining they’d be more practical for outside work during the cold weather.

  At first, Ginny had balked, not wanting to wear men’s clothing, but Rachel persisted, telling her no one at the ranch would care one way or another. Since then, Ginny had worn them each day she worked outside. They made a big difference against the frigid wind.

  Climbing the back steps, she pushed the door open and stepped into the kitchen, kicking the door closed and dropping the wood next to the stove. She removed her gloves and unbuttoned her coat, letting it fall open, then reached up to check supplies in the cupboard. If needed, she’d make a trip to the root cellar before taking off the coat and replacing the trousers with a dress.

  Luke shrugged out of his coat at the same time a noise came from the kitchen. He glanced out the front window to see Hank still working in the barn. Bernice was at their place and everyone else was gone. Who the hell was in the house?

  He moved toward the kitchen in time to see a man, or boy, reach up into a
cupboard and pull something down. In a slow, silent move, he drew his gun from its holster, pointing it at the intruder.

  “Hold it right there.”

  Ginny froze, not recognizing the deep growl coming from behind her.

  “Put your hands up and turn around.”

  She did as he asked, her heart pounding, wondering if someone had slipped by Hank to come in the front door. Slowly she turned, raising her eyes to meet those of the man holding a gun on her. Her breath caught at the sight of Luke, his face hard, his mouth in a thin line. She could see the instant recognition dawned. He lowered the gun in a quick motion and slammed it into the holster.

  “What the hell are you doing here? And why are you dressed like that?”

  She swallowed the hard lump in her throat and took in a shuttering breath, anger replacing the fear she’d felt. “You scared the daylights out of me,” she hissed and pulled the hat off her head, exposing soft brown wisps of hair which had escaped the loose bun.

  He held his ground, taking in the sight of her in men’s trousers, a too big shirt haphazardly tucked inside and held together by a wide leather belt. The coat he’d given her covered the ridiculous outfit. He let his gaze wander over her, his eyes softening at the same time his body tightened—a reaction he was powerless to control.

  “I asked what you’re doing here, sneaking around the house. Stealing?”

  “I am not stealing,” she threw back at him. “I work here.”

  “What?” His voice took on a hard edge as his eyes narrowed, signaling his disbelief.

  “Dax and Rachel hired me to take on Bernice’s job.”

  He took a step forward, then thought better of it, crossing his arms over his chest, planting his feet shoulder width apart. Frustration warred with the desire he felt toward her. This was not what he’d expected to come home to—Ginny living at the ranch. It slammed into him that he’d see her every day, obliged to be around her, and forced to fight his constant attraction toward her. His jaw hardened as he processed the implication of her new position. He didn’t like it. Not one bit.