The paint horse shifted around so that he stood sideways across the aisle, and David couldn’t see Peterson well—only his feet and a bit of Anne’s dark skirt showed under the horse’s belly. Hoping the horse would also hide him from their view, David crept forward and across the center alley to the divider near the pack mule’s stall. He flattened himself against the low wall. When he stole another look, Peterson still held Anne. Maybe he’d attribute any sounds behind him to the animals.
David checked his revolver. He wouldn’t dare use it unless he had a point-blank shot. Otherwise, he might hit Anne. But he was sure Peterson wouldn’t hesitate to fire on him.
He peered around the divider again. Peterson was rolling the door back. When it was open about eighteen inches, he stopped.
“Where is he?” he called.
David shrank back behind the wall again, certain the “he” Peterson inquired about was himself. If the assassin knew he crouched a few yards behind him, he’d sing a different tune. But now his accomplice must have returned. Mudge. They never should have trusted that boy. Ernie had proven himself, but the kid only saw the money he was promised.
And where was Dan Adams?
Anne flinched when she heard quick footsteps on the driveway. Peterson’s breath tickled her neck as he stared out into the darkness, and she shuddered.
He shoved her aside suddenly and rolled the door open wider. Mudge must be back; he wouldn’t give Uncle David such an open reception.
“Where is he?” Peterson called.
“Beats me,” came Mudge’s reply from outside.
Anne glanced down at her bound wrists. Was this the time for her to attempt a move?
Peterson leaned toward the doorway and let his hand, and the pistol, dangle at his side as he listened to Mudge.
“I went up to his room,” Mudge began, and Anne took quick stock of Star’s position.
The pinto was broadside in the aisle now, his head drooping as though he dozed. She pulled in a deep breath and ran.
“Hey!” Peterson cried.
She didn’t look back, but grabbed as much of her heavy skirt as she could, hiked it up, and flung herself under the startled horse’s belly. Star grunted and shuffled his feet. Anne ducked her head and rolled on the dirt floor in a swirl of skirts, right underneath the pinto and out beyond him. Star whinnied and pranced, pulling the lead rope taut. Anne crawled on her knees and elbows and at last grasped the prize.
She turned awkwardly and rose to her knees with Dan’s revolver clutched in both hands. Movement to her left caught her eye, and she flicked a glance toward the mule’s stall. Her throat tightened when she saw her uncle crouching behind the wall that separated it from the adjoining empty stall.
Dan could see them both talking in the shaft of light from the barn doorway. Mudge was giving a cursory account of his search for David Stone. When Peterson jerked around and yelled, he knew the game was over.
Dan used the only weapon he had—a stick of firewood he’d snatched up on his stealthy trip around the barn. He ran from the corner of the stable to the partly open door and swung at Mudge’s droopy hat. The young man took a step into the opening as Dan delivered the blow, so it landed with less force than he’d intended and glanced off. At first he thought it had done no good, but Mudge paused for a moment then dropped like a stone in the doorway.
Dan looked over him. Star gave a shrill whinny. The lantern hung near the door, and its light showed Star, his white markings prominent, still tied in the middle of the barn, but backing and pulling against the rope. Between him and the horse, Peterson stood with his back to Dan, his pistol raised and pointing toward Star. Dan’s throat went dry as he scanned the stall openings and brought his gaze rapidly back to Peterson. The killer took a step away from him, heedless of Dan’s presence.
Stooping over Mudge’s body, Dan grabbed the young man’s belt and rolled him over. As he’d hoped, a pistol was stuck in the front of the belt. Dan grabbed the butt and worked the gun out of Mudge’s clothing, praying Peterson wouldn’t look back.
“All right, Miss Stone,” Peterson said in a voice like granite. “You’re too old to play hide-and-seek. I see your dress plainly. Now come on out.”
Dan swallowed hard. He was after Anne, not her uncle. Perhaps he still had no inkling that David was in the stable.
Peterson walked forward, leading with his pistol, until he was next to Star. He patted the trembling horse’s flank behind the saddle and pushed Star’s hindquarters aside.
“Come now, Miss—”
Peterson broke off as David rose from behind a stall divider to his right. He swung toward the Englishman. Dan aimed instinctively and pulled the trigger, getting only a faint click.
He wasted only a fraction of a second absorbing the fact that Mudge’s pistol either wasn’t loaded or had misfired. In that moment, Peterson swung his gun to point directly at David.
“Well, Stone, so you came to me after all.” The two men stood for an instant with their weapons poised.
Dan pulled the trigger again. It clicked, and he threw it to the floor.
Peterson caught his movement or the sound and looked toward him at last. The hesitation was enough of a distraction. Dan dove toward him, hoping he could take Peterson down before he gathered his wits and fired.
But instead of aiming at Dan, Peterson whipped back toward David and pulled the trigger. Dan slammed into him as another gun discharged, and they both fell to the floor. Star squealed and sidestepped.
Peterson wasn’t moving. Slowly, Dan pushed himself up to his knees. Peterson lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He sucked in a breath, his face contorting. Blood soaked his shirt and coat, the stain growing as Dan watched. He leaned down and grabbed the shirt fabric and yanked, ripping the buttons out. The massive wound was too great. Dan clamped his teeth together.
Peterson’s eyes sought his. “It’s bad.”
Dan nodded.
“I would have got him.”
“Yes.”
Peterson gritted his teeth and moaned.
David straightened and came from the shadows to stand beside Dan and gaze down at his enemy.
“We’ll tell Stone’s cousin you failed,” Dan said grimly, looking down at the dying man.
“Cousin?” Confusion clouded Peterson’s gaze.
“Randolph Stone.”
“I…don’t know…”
“The person who hired you. Randolph Stone.” Dan couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice, and he hated that. This man still had power over him, even now.
“No.” Peterson pulled in another breath. “That’s not…” He went limp, staring sightlessly. Dan stared down at him for a moment, his mind whirling. He rose and looked over at Anne. She huddled on the floor close to Star, holding his revolver, her face set in shock.
“Anne, you all right?” David called. He nodded to Dan. “See to her.” He knelt beside Peterson and put his hand to the man’s throat.
Dan hurried to Anne and knelt beside her. “Anne, dearest, are you all right?”
She looked up at him with stricken eyes. Very carefully she held out the revolver. Dan started to take it by the barrel, but drew back when he felt its heat. Carefully he took it from her by the butt and placed it on the floor.
With tears swimming in her eyes, she held out her arms to him. Dan cut the rope on her wrists and pulled her close. For as long as she would let him, he would stay there with her, with his arms around her. She didn’t cry, but her breath came in quick jerks. Dan rubbed her back slowly.
“It’s all right, darling.” He kissed her temple and folded her against his chest.
After what seemed like a year, and at the same time the flicker of an eye, David came over and stood in front of them, his feet planted a foot apart, hands on his hips.
“Is she all right?”
Dan nodded, though he was sure that on some levels Anne was far from fine.
“Good. I’ve tied up Mudge.”
“Peterson?�
�� Dan asked, but he knew.
David shook his head. “We’ll need to get the constable. I suppose it’s safe for me to show myself outside now.”
“I’ll go,” Dan said.
“No. Stay here with her.”
“You don’t know where Owens lives.”
“Tell me,” David said.
Anne gave a little sob, and Dan patted her shoulders while he described the house to David. “It’s not far. I think it’s the third one past the smithy, and set back from the road. Clapboards, but no paint.”
“I’ll be back in a few minutes. If Mudge wakes up, let him rant. But do not untie him. You hear me?”
“I hear you,” Dan said.
“Do you want to reload before I leave?” David touched the revolver with his boot toe.
Reluctantly, Dan stirred. He’d be foolish to sit here with Anne, a dead man, and a trussed-up thug without loading his gun.
“I’ll do it,” David said, stooping to pick it up. “You got what I need in your saddlebags?”
“Yes.”
David walked to Star’s side. He was surprisingly efficient and brought Dan’s revolver back a couple of minutes later. He rested his hand on Anne’s head for a moment. “I’ll be back, my dear.”
“Thank you,” she choked out.
Dan looked up at him. “Take Star. I know it’s not far, but it’ll be quicker if you ride.”
“All right. David stepped over Peterson’s legs and untied Star. He led him to the door and carefully maneuvered him around Mudge’s prone form. He shoved the big door farther open and led out the pinto. A moment later the door closed, all the way this time.
Dan sighed and settled more comfortably on the floor. Anne nestled into his embrace.
“Daniel?”
“Yes?”
“I killed him, didn’t I?”
Dan swallowed hard. “I’m not sure. It happened so fast.”
“Uncle David didn’t reload. He never got a shot off. And I saw Peterson fall—the hole in the back of his coat. I did that.”
Dan tightened his hold on her. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to tell the constable.”
“No, it’s all right. We should tell him the truth.”
The ache in Dan’s throat was impossible to swallow away. “I love you,” he whispered. She was silent for a moment, and he regretted his words. She already had more than enough to distress her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Forgive me.”
“No.”
He drew back a little and eyed her cautiously. “You won’t forgive me?”
“No, Daniel. Say it as often as you want. I’ll never tell you not to again.”
He looked into her sad, dark eyes, still not certain he read her mood correctly.
A faint smile curved her lips upward. “I love you, too. I’ve been so foolish, but I expect I’ll mend my ways from now on.”
Dan bent toward her, still swathed in disbelief, and kissed her gently. Anne slid her arms up around his neck.
“When Uncle David comes back, will you take me to Mrs. Zinberg’s? I don’t want to stay in the hotel tonight.”
“Of course.”
Bewildered but thankful, Dan kissed her again.
CHAPTER 27
Two weeks later, Anne helped Elise Bentley set the table in her ranch kitchen for seven. Dan had ridden down to Corvallis from his brother’s place, and Rob and Dulcie had driven over from their neighboring ranch to join Anne, Eb, Elise, and David for supper.
“I suppose it’s unrealistic to think we could keep your uncle here any longer,” Elise said as she laid out the plain, white ironstone plates.
Anne walked along behind her, placing the silverware at each place. “He said that as soon as he and Daniel settle the details for the stage line, he’s going back to Eugene to look for a suitable building. He’s serious about it, and he wants to get started before someone else does.”
Elise smiled but shook her head. “It’s wonderful having him around again, but I keep wondering if he’s even thinking of going back to England.”
“Not for a while, I’d say.” Anne went to the cupboard for cups and saucers. “Of course, he can’t until spring, but I don’t know if he even wants to go then. He’s having too much fun here.”
“I should hate to see him go,” Elise said, “and yet…”
“Yes. I feel the same way. I’m delighted to be with him again, after all these years, but I can’t help thinking how much he’s needed in England.”
Elise smiled. “Now that his arm is getting better, there’s no holding him down on this stagecoach business. If he took half the energy he’s putting into that and put it into Stoneford, why, the estate would flourish and the tenants would prosper.”
“Yes,” Anne said. “I can’t help feeling he’s sorely needed there. But of course, he seems to have become quite attached to the freedom he has here. I believe he sees this stagecoach line as a challenge. He’s determined to see it succeed.”
“I wonder….” Elise eyed her thoughtfully.
“What?” When she didn’t reply immediately, Anne’s anxiety mushroomed. “What are you hinting at?”
Elise smiled. “Maybe it’s Dan that he wants to see succeed.”
“I don’t understand.” The truth was, Anne did understand. She dipped milk into a pitcher and avoided Elise’s gaze.
“I’m just saying, maybe he sees Dan as a good prospect for a nephew-in-law and wants to help him escape his brother’s farm for your sake.”
Anne tried to formulate a retort, but she couldn’t. Instead, her cheeks began to burn. She put down the ladle and carried the pitcher to the table. Without turning around, she said, “I do love him.”
“Do I dare hope you’re staying and will be a somewhat close neighbor?”
Anne shrugged. “I hope that as well. But Dan hasn’t—”
“Don’t tell me he hasn’t renewed his suit. Whenever he’s around you, he can’t take his eyes off you.”
She smiled at that. “I’m afraid I’m as bad now. But he hasn’t spoken again. Perhaps I put him off too many times. I thought before we left Scottsburg that we’d reached an understanding.”
“Perhaps you have. Dan is a practical man. He probably wants to be sure of what he’s offering you this time before he makes the offer.”
That prospect heartened Anne. She strained to catch sounds from outside.
“I hear a wagon driving up. That must be Rob and Dulcie. Is everything ready?”
Elise opened the oven door, and a cloud of roast beef–scented air wafted through the room.
“Yes, I believe so.” Elise closed the oven and took off her apron. Together they went out to greet the Whistlers.
Dulcie hugged Anne and Elise and hovered over Rob while he unloaded the dishes she’d brought—two pies and a pot of beans, though Elise had assured her she didn’t need to cook a thing.
Anne went to the team’s heads. Bailey was in harness with Dulcie’s mare. Anne stroked the gelding’s nose.
“Hello, friend.”
Rob smiled as he passed her, carrying the bean pot. “He seems none the worse for his sea voyage.”
They all sat down to dinner. Eb carved the roast beef, and Elise served up the beans while the other dishes were passed around the table. For the first few minutes, the talk centered on the food and life at the Bentleys’ and Whistlers’ farms.
“How are things at your brother’s place?” Rob asked Dan.
“Going well, sir. Hector accomplished a lot while I was gone. He expects his fiancée to come by ship next year.”
“Sailing around the horn? She must be a brave woman,” David said.
“I’m afraid the things Hector told her about our journey here dissuaded her from traveling overland,” Dan said.
“Our trip last summer wasn’t half bad.” Eb held his cup out toward Elise, and she rose and took it from him. She returned a moment later with a coffeepot and poured his cup full.
Eb took it and set it
down. “Somebody asked me t’other day if we were going to take another wagon train next year.” He looked across the table at Rob.
“Not me! I promised Dulcie I was done with wagon trains.”
“That’s right,” Dulcie said. “I’m surprised you’d even consider it, Eb, with your new bride and all.”
Eb smiled. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere.”
Elise said nothing but smiled as she made her way ‘round the table dispensing coffee.
“And what about you, Mr. Stone?” Rob asked. “What are your plans?”
“I’ll be going back to Eugene City soon and settle up there,” he said.
“Going to England?” Dulcie asked.
“Weeell…” David looked over at Anne. “I’ve about made up my mind to stay another year. Daniel and I have a scheme we want to try—stage coaching from here to Eugene. We ought to be able to tell in a year’s time whether we can make a go of that.”
“Mr. Stone’s found a place in town where they want to have the stagecoach station,” Eb said. “Personally, I think it’s a good idea.”
“Daniel will man the station here, and I’ll set up in Eugene,” David said. “I intend to talk to Mr. Skinner when I get back there and see what’s required for a mail contract.”
“Well, now. You’re giving up wheat farming?” Rob said to Dan.
“Yes, sir. My brother can do most of it, and I’ll go up and help him when I can, for planting and harvest. But Hector’s agreeable.”
“So, Anne, if I stay in Oregon another year and go back in the spring of ‘57, will you make the journey with me?” David watched her closely, and again she felt her cheeks warm.
“Well, I…I’m not certain, Uncle David.”
He smiled. “A lot can happen in a year or eighteen months.”
“Yes.”
Dan cleared his throat. “I believe Miss Stone may have other plans, sir.”
David’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? You believe, or you know?”
“Yes, tell us, Dan’l,” Eb said.
THE Prairie DREAMS Trilogy Page 63
