“Several months now.”
“Here you are, sir.” The waiter placed two plates in front of them, steam still rising from the cooked meat. “Will there be anything else?”
“No, this will be fine,” Connor replied.
Grace stared at her plate, making no attempt to slice into the steak.
“Is there something wrong, Grace?”
Her eyes shot to his. “No, it’s just that I’ve never been served on plates this nice. I’m just trying to memorize it. You know, for later.”
Connor watched as she sliced into the steak and put a small piece into her mouth.
She closed her eyes and chewed, savoring the taste. This was nothing like the thinner meats Jasper served. His food was good, but this was the best meal she’d ever had.
They ate in silence for most of the meal. Finally, Connor placed the last bite of steak in his mouth then pushed his plate away. He took another sip of his wine and watched Grace. The dim light from the candle danced across her face as she finished her meal. She was very expressive—if she liked something, you knew. He hadn’t noticed the freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks until tonight. Her red hair was up, but enough strands had fallen to enhance the color of her eyes. Connor guessed them to be violet, but he noticed they darkened to a very deep blue when she was agitated, as she was the morning he’d run into her outside the restaurant.
“I can’t eat another bite.” Grace placed her silverware on the plate and pushed it back. “I’m sure I’ll burst if I do.”
“Then we’ll just wait a while.”
“Whatever for?”
“Dessert, of course. We can’t leave a restaurant like this without having dessert.”
Her groan could be heard across the room, and various diners turned their heads to stare.
“Sorry,” she murmured then placed a hand over her mouth.
He watched as a slight tinge of red crept up her neck and colored her cheeks. God, she is a beautiful woman, Connor thought. He found himself wondering what it would be like to spend more time with her, see where this deep attraction led. It was something that had never been possible before. His life was one journey after another, his focus on finding Meggie, not on finding a woman he could love or make a permanent part of his life. Once he found his sister all that would change. He’d be free to find someone like Grace.
Connor noticed her eyes widen as they moved to the restaurant entrance. Her eyes turned from surprised to frightened as she continued to stare.
“Grace, what is it?”
“Oh, Connor, I forgot to tell you something important and now it may be too late.” Her voice was strained, shaking.
“What is it?”
“There.” She nodded toward the direction of the doorway.
Connor turned to see a man he knew all too well, and had been expecting, just not tonight at the Templeton. Len Proctor had a hand on the butt of his gun. His partners, Bert and Earl, stood alongside, watching.
“How do you know them, Grace?” His eyes turned to slits and his voice hardened.
“They came into the restaurant today. Asked if I knew you, said they were friends of yours.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Nothing. I said I’d never heard of you. Something about them wasn’t right.”
He glanced over his shoulder once more to confirm the three men were still watching, then turned back to Grace. “Listen carefully. Those three are more dangerous than you can imagine. I sent them to prison for murder, but they were released on some bogus information. They’re here for me, not you.” He threw his napkin on the table and stood. “Stay here, do you understand? If things turn bad, go out the back door and find the sheriff. Can you do that?”
Grace didn’t answer. She stood, ignored Connor’s surprised expression, and walked straight toward the maître d’ who stood between her and the three men.
“Dammit, Grace, get back here,” Connor hissed but she continued walking.
“Excuse me,” she said to the maître d’. “Do you see those three men standing against the wall?”
“Of course, madam. I’ve been wondering why they are here.”
She turned her back to the three intruders and spoke in a soft voice. “They have vowed to kill the gentleman I am with tonight. I’m thinking that would be a bad thing for this restaurant, correct?”
“Absolutely, but what can I do?”
“We’ll wait at our table while you send someone to the sheriff. Tell him what is happening and ask for assistance. Will you do this for us?”
“What if they insist on entering the dining room?”
“From the little I know of them, I doubt that’s what they’d do. The sheriff will know how to handle men such as these.”
“Yes, madam. I will send someone right away.”
Grace turned toward the three men and scowled. They stared back, enjoying her discomfort, murmuring to each other, and laughing. She hoped the sheriff could find some charge to lock them up.
She marched back to the table and took her seat. Connor stood with his hands on his hips, a grim expression filling his face.
“What the hell were you thinking, walking up there like that?” He growled the question, then sat down.
“I asked the maître d’ to send for the sheriff. Those men are a nuisance and should be run out of the restaurant, don’t you think?”
Connor’s expression had turned from anger to disbelief to amusement as Grace explained her actions. She was either brave or stupid, he wasn’t sure which at this point. However, bringing in the sheriff might prove to be a brilliant move, at least until he could get Grace out of there.
Chapter Thirteen
It wasn’t long before a commotion in the lobby had all eyes focused on the three men plus the sheriff and two deputies. Fred Helms and Roy Crowley had informed the sheriff of the murderers release and the expectation that they’d end up in Salt Lake looking for trouble.
“Stop your complaining and come along with me, Proctor. We can straighten everything out at the jail.” The sheriff had a gun drawn and was waving it toward the main entry. “You two also, everyone goes with us.”
The two deputies stood behind Bert and Earl, nudging them with the barrels of their pistols.
“We haven’t done anything, Sheriff. Just minding our business and watching all those good people eat their dinner,” Len protested but followed the sheriff outside. At least he knew MacLaren was in town.
“Did you ever think those good people don’t want to be watched, especially by three ex-cons? Now get moving that way.” He pointed down the street to the jail. It was a large building made of stone with lights shining out of several windows.
The sheriff moved behind Proctor but kept a gun trained on the man. They’d get the three in a cell, at least for one night, then go back to speak with MacLaren. That man was causing more problems by the hour.
Connor had already paid the waiter, and the moment the sheriff removed the three from the lobby, he escorted Grace outside and lifted her into the carriage. He wasted no time getting her home. She was certain the men didn’t know her living quarters were above Jasper’s, but Connor wasn’t as convinced.
“Get some things together. You’re going to stay with Ruth Dix tonight,” Connor ordered and walked her inside.
“No, I’m not. It’s late and she doesn’t know I’m coming. I’ll be perfectly safe here.” She’d crossed her arms over her chest and stood in front of Connor, blocking his path into her small room.
“This isn’t up for debate or a vote. I know those men. As soon as they’re released they’ll come back here. You’re the easiest link to me and they’ll have no problem with forcing you to talk.”
“But I don’t know where you live. There’s nothing I can tell them.”
“They don’t know that. After seeing us tonight they’ll assume you know a lot more about me than you do. Now, get some clothes. I’m taking you to Ruth’s.”
She r
otated away from him in frustration. “I don’t like to be ordered around. You have no right…” but her words stopped when Connor grabbed both shoulders and turned her toward him. She stared into his eyes which had turned a deep, penetrating green.
“This is not a discussion, Grace. I need you to do this, for yourself, and for me.”
She stood motionless, her eyes fixed on his. Connor’s movements were so slow, a fraction at a time, that Grace didn’t register how his lips hovered over hers until the moment he closed the distance. He brushed his lips across hers—once, twice—before claiming her in earnest.
Grace stiffened, ready for him to turn into the only type of man she knew, Jeremiah. But, when he continued to gently glide his lips over hers, coaxing her to accept instead of demanding she comply, Grace relaxed. Her arms moved from her sides to his arms, then crept up to rest on his shoulders as he deepened the kiss. Just as she was beginning to enjoy his touch and the feel of him, Connor pulled back. He rested his forehead against hers and took a steadying breath.
“Get your things together. We need to leave now, before the sheriff releases those men.” His voice was calm, reassuring. He took a couple of steps back. “Do you have a bag?”
She cleared her throat, trying to focus on the present and not their kiss. “Yes, under the bed.”
Connor knelt and pulled the small bag out. “Add what you’ll need. I’ll keep watch outside.” He opened the door and walked out.
She opened the bag and stuffed a few things into it, not really focusing on what went inside. Her thoughts were still fixated on their kiss. It was so different, so tender, not at all repugnant like the ones Jeremiah forced on her. She began to believe perhaps her husband’s way wasn’t at all like those of other men.
Grace took a quick turn around the room, then closed the bag, and opened her door. Connor stood just outside, watching the street below.
“Ready?”
Grace shook her head.
“Let’s go.” He escorted her down the stairs and once again lifted her into the carriage.
“Where does Ruth live?”
“Just three blocks away, that direction.” She pointed away from the main street.
Ten minutes later, Connor helped Grace down and grabbed her bag. He placed a hand on the small of her back and walked to the front door, knocking until Ruth peered out.
“Good Lord, come in, both of you.” Ruth held the door open then closed and locked it as soon as Connor passed through. “Sit down while I get you both some tea.”
“None for me, Ruth. I just want to be sure it’s all right if Grace stays here a couple of nights. There’s been some trouble and I don’t think it’s wise for her to stay at her place.”
Ruth moved her gaze from Connor to Grace but kept her thoughts to herself. “Of course, it’s all right. You can stay here as long as you like.”
“I really don’t want to put you out, Ruth, it’s just that Connor insisted my place might not be safe.”
“Don’t worry so much, Grace. Having you here is no imposition at all. In fact, it would be nice to have a little company.” Ruth turned her attention back to Connor. “You sure I can’t get you something? Whiskey, maybe?”
“No ma’am. I’ll be going now that I know Grace is safe with you.” He moved in front of Grace. “Don’t go to work tomorrow. I’ll let Jasper know you’re ill and staying with a friend. Don’t go anywhere for a few days unless I’m with you.” When she started to object, he grabbed both her hands. “Grace, you have to do this my way. We need to keep both you and Ruth safe. Those men are ruthless killers. There’s no need to be a target.”
She truly hated to be bossed around and didn’t want to let Jasper down, but what Connor said made sense. Grace didn’t want to do anything that could place her friend in jeopardy. “All right, but don’t think you can tell me what to do all the time, Connor MacLaren. I’ll have none of it. You understand?”
He smiled down at her. “Yes, ma’am, I understand.” He tipped his hat to Ruth and left, driving the carriage down several blocks and away from the Dix home. He hoped he was doing the right thing. What he felt like doing was staying with Grace, not letting her out of his sight. But she’d be safe with Ruth, he had to trust that.
******
“All right, Proctor, you and your friends are free to go. Just remember that my men and I will be keeping watch on you. Anything even the least bit suspicious happens, and you’ll find yourself back behind these bars.” The sheriff followed the three out front and watched as one of the deputies returned their personal belongings.
None of the three said a word as they took their possessions, and walked out into the bright morning sun. Len settled his hat on his head while looking up and down the street. “Let’s grab breakfast then we’ll go after MacLaren, and the woman who lied to us.”
They stopped at the first restaurant they saw, ate, and then found their horses for the ride to Jasper’s. At least they knew where the woman, Grace, worked. She’d tell them how to find MacLaren, then Proctor planned to deal with both of them.
“Where’s your help this morning?”
“Grace? Well, she’s ill and won’t be in for a few days.” Jasper stared to turn away when Proctor grabbed his arm.
“Where’s she staying?” The menace in Proctor’s voice wasn’t lost on Jasper.
“I don’t know. It could be several people but I don’t know where any of them live. Now, I need to get back to my paying customers.” Jasper yanked his arm away, dismissing the men, and returning to his work.
“Let’s go,” Proctor said.
“But, Len…”
“Not now, Earl. We’ll get the information, but not in front of a restaurant full of people,” Proctor said in a hushed voice. “Come on.”
******
It had been two days since Connor received the information about Moser from Edwin and Margaret Miles. The wife had said the family lived northwest of town, but nothing more specific. Connor was on his way to meet Jericho, Fred, and Roy after swinging by the restaurant to let Jasper know that Grace was ill and wouldn’t be at work for a few days. He’d known Jasper was suspicious, but to his credit, Grace’s boss had accepted the news and not asked questions.
“Fred and I checked with the sheriff. He’s heard of a family named Moser living northwest of town, about eight or ten miles out. Thinks they’re off of Old Pioneer Road, but wasn’t sure.” Roy pulled out a piece of paper to read his notes. “He said our best bet would be to ask at the livery on the north end of town. That’s where most of those families get their repairs done.”
Fred pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. “Guess we best get moving,” he said and slid the timepiece back into his shirt. “Heard you had some visitors last night, Connor.”
“Yeah. Proctor and his friends are in town.” Connor noticed Jericho’s gaze had swung to his. He hadn’t had a chance to tell his friend of the encounter. “Figure we’ll find Meggie and get out of the area before there’s trouble. The last thing I want is a gunfight with those three.”
“You know they’ll just keep following you. Mr. Jericho, Roy, and I are here which makes the odds even. Better to take care of that scum now than be looking over your shoulder every day.”
Connor thought over the offer. He didn’t want his life to revolve around three murderers with vengeance on their minds. “I may just take you up on that, Fred.” He looked at Jericho. “I’d like you to stay in town. Pass by the Dix place a few times and make sure everything is quiet.”
“No problem.” Jericho would do whatever Connor needed. “Find me when you get back in town,” he said before leaving to check the Dix home.
Connor watched him ride off, grateful for the unquestioned loyalty Jericho had always offered.
“Yep, we can find your girl, then flush those three out in the open. May make them do something that will put them back in jail for good this time.” Fred reined his horse around toward the livery.
“Yes,
I know a farmer named Moser. Lives off Old Pioneer Road if I remember right, maybe ten miles out. You got business with him?” the blacksmith asked.
“Some.”
“You’re not the law, are you?” The smithy had pulled off his gloves and set them aside. He was a large man, tall and wide, with thick hands.
“No, we’re not with the sheriff’s office if that’s what you mean?”
“I know they’ve been trying to locate men with multiple marriages. I’m not too fond of arresting those men. Wouldn’t want to see that happen to Jeremiah.”
Jeremiah. Now they had his full name.
“Thanks for the information,” Roy called over his shoulder as they turned north.
Old Pioneer Road turned out to be the way most travelers moved from northern Utah to Idaho or California. It was wider than most country roads with more traffic. They passed a few farmers heading toward Salt Lake and a few riders who passed them on their way out of the city.
They’d ridden about an hour, the sky darkening more with each mile, when they heard a loud crack of thunder followed by a flash of lightning. It didn’t stop them but, when the storm hit a couple of miles later, it slowed their pace and made it difficult to see sign posts.
The storm increased until they had to find shelter. Fred noticed a cabin a hundred yards from the road. At first glance it appeared to be abandoned, but as they got closer they noticed a light coming from the inside. Connor and Fred stayed put while Roy pounded on the door. When there was no answer he turned the knob. The door opened to reveal a small, two-room home with a fire in a pot-bellied stove with a large kettle on top.
“Someone lives here but they’re not inside. What do you want to do?” Roy yelled.
“Let’s get out of this weather. Whoever lives here is bound to return soon,” Connor said and slid off Crusader.
They led their horses into the small stable and dashed back to the cabin, their boots soaked and caked with mud. They took off their oil-skins and hung them on hooks near the door. Roy stoked the fire and checked the kettle, but swung around when the cabin door burst open. The barrel of a shotgun was followed by a small, stooped figure bundled in layers of clothing.
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