The Marshal and Miss Merritt

by Debra Cowan

  Ten days after her evening with Bowie at the springs, Merritt fixed lunch for just Lefty and her. She hadn’t seen Bowie since breakfast that morning and Mr. Wilson had left an hour ago, telling her he likely wouldn’t make lunch or supper.

  He was going out to the Fitzgerald ranch to write an article about yet another piece of land the wealthy rancher had bought. Don Fitzgerald seemed determined to let people know each time he increased his already-vast holdings.

  Lefty cleaned his plate, then reached for another piece of ham. “Mr. Wilson and Bo sure missed another fine meal.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I like the marshal. He’s a good man.”

  Merritt nodded, sipping at a glass of lemonade she’d made that morning.

  “It meant a lot that he gave me the benefit of the doubt when I offered that information on Hobbs. Especially since I wasn’t sure if I’d really heard it or if I had dreamed it.”

  “I like that about him, too,” she said.

  The older man studied her. “There’s something different about you.”

  She lifted a hand to her hair, swept up into a high chignon. “Like what?”

  “Nothing like that. You’re as pretty as a picture.” The older man chuckled. “It’s nothing I can put my finger on. Since you and the marshal found me at Phantom Springs, I’ve noticed y’all have been spending a lot more time together.”

  “We have.” Merritt couldn’t stop a smile.

  “I’m right glad you sent Hobbs packing.”

  “I didn’t. He finally asked if I would ever accept any of his invitations and I said no.”

  She hadn’t needed to explain that it was because she had fallen for Bowie. She could tell by the look in the former marshal’s eyes that he knew.

  “I’m glad,” Lefty said.

  She was, too. Although Hobbs had persistently invited her out, he hadn’t been obnoxious and yet his visits put her on edge. Always stirred up her worry about her missing handkerchief.

  She turned her attention to her friend. “How is your job?”

  “Going well.” He looked down at the table, saying quietly, “I sent a telegram to my wife.”

  Proud of him, she squeezed his hand. “And?”

  “She wants me to come home,” he said hoarsely. “See if we can put things back together.”

  The thickness in his voice had tears stinging Merritt’s eyes. “Oh, Lefty, I’m so glad.”

  She leaned over to hug him. “Will you go?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Wonderful! When?”

  “At the end of the week. I told Mr. Stokes I’d stay as long as he wanted, but he said the end of the week was fine.” He glanced at the mantel clock on the sideboard. “And I’d better get back to it.”

  Merritt rose when he did. “You let me know if I can do anything to help you.”

  He nodded and started for the kitchen doorway, then stopped. “If things work out with my wife, I plan to bring her here to meet you. I think you probably saved my life, Miss Merritt.”

  Her vision blurred. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Which won’t be worth a plug nickle if I’m late to the store.”

  She smiled at his attempt to lighten the moment and said goodbye.

  Once she had cleaned up the dishes from lunch, she sat down again at the dining table with her sewing basket and a stack of items that needed to be mended. This room had the best light and she was in the path of any breeze that blew through her open bedroom window and the kitchen’s screened door.

  Mending was a chore she didn’t enjoy, but it was part of the service she offered to her boarders. Since her current boarders were bachelors, they had all requested it.

  Lefty’s news had put a smile on her face. Thoughts of him were joined by thoughts of Bowie and she moved rapidly from one garment to the next.

  Some minutes later, she became aware of sweat dampening her bodice and hands. She used her apron to blot her face and hands, realizing there was no breeze blowing through the house.

  She rose, moving to the kitchen doorway to make sure the outside door was open to allow air through the screened door. It was. Turning, she walked past the dining table to her bedroom to check the window. Ah, it was closed.

  She hurried over to open it, and saw a piece of paper stuck between the frame and window. It had to be from Saul. She lifted the sash, immediately identifying his signature sketch of her profile.

  The note said he needed to see her and would come to the boardinghouse tonight after dark. He didn’t want her driving out somewhere to meet him this time. To indicate if it was safe for him, he asked that she put a lit lantern on the back stoop.

  Relieved, she refolded the message. After their last meeting outside the kitchen, Merritt hadn’t known if she would see him again. Bowie had interrupted them before she had secured that promise from her foster brother.

  She had promised Bowie she would contact him the next time she heard from Saul. She didn’t know how her foster brother would react if the marshal was present when he arrived, but it was best that Bowie be there.

  Slipping the piece of paper into her skirt pocket, she hurried to the jail, but when she arrived, she discovered a sign hanging on the door: Back Later.

  She went through town asking if anyone had seen him. Henry Stokes said that Bowie had been at the general store investigating a report of stolen goods. While there, he had received a telegram, but Mr. Stokes didn’t know where the marshal had gone when he’d left.

  Ace Keating might. Merritt stopped at the saddle and boot shop to ask him if he knew where Bowie might be. Ace said his friend had ridden out to the 4C, but hadn’t said when he would return.

  She thanked the saddle maker and made her way back to the Morning Glory. The locomotive whistle sounded, signaling the arrival of the daily train. She hoped Bowie would return by the time Saul showed up because she wasn’t going to ask her foster brother to come back another time. She was afraid he might not.

  Bowie hadn’t expected to ever fall for Merritt, but he had and his realization about his feelings for her spun him like a top.

  At first, he flat didn’t know what to do so he had been glad that his responsibilities as a marshal had put some distance between them.

  It hadn’t been anything overt and nothing he had tried to do on his own. Different things had needed his attention and he’d been relieved to have some space from Merritt.

  Although, if he had thought that would make him think about her less, want her less, he’d been dead wrong. His relief had lasted about two days. He missed seeing her, being with her. For the life of him, he couldn’t make himself stay away from her. Or stop himself from kissing her when he had the chance.

  With his schedule and people around so often, kissing was all Bowie could do and he wanted to do a damn sight more. Shucking her right out of her clothes would be a good start.

  The night he’d had her all to himself at Phantom Springs seemed more like months ago than days. Bowie worked hard to keep his mind occupied with something besides her. Which was only one reason he was grateful to get a telegram one afternoon ten days after the evening they had spent completely alone. Quin and Addie were in Wolf Grove and headed home.

  After following up on a report from the general store of stolen goods that hadn’t been stolen at all, only stored in a place Stokes usually didn’t store them, Bowie headed to the 4C.

  As he reached the top of the hill where the family’s stone-and-timber home sat, he spied Quin’s unsaddled bloodred bay, Cactus, roaming around one of the corrals behind the house.

  Bowie reined up just as his brother and sister-in-law came out of the house, looking tired and dusty.

  Quin frowned. “Didn’t mean for you to ride out here. Just wanted you to know we were home.”

  Bowie’s chest tightened. Maybe Quin didn’t want him here. Too bad. “Got a lot to tell you.”

  He dismounted and looped his reins over the hitching post.

 
As soon as he stepped onto the wide porch of the three-story structure, Addie hugged him. “Sorry I smell like dirt and horses.”

  He awkwardly patted her back. “You still smell better than any cowhand I’ve ridden with.”

  She laughed and stepped aside as Quin came forward. As Bowie shook his brother’s hand, the other man’s gaze lit on his badge.

  Something flickered in Quin’s eyes before they turned hard. “What’s this? You going back to White Tail?”

  “Nope.” He wasn’t sure how his brother would take this. “I’m Ca-Cross’s new marshal.”

  Addie clapped. “Good! I’m glad to get Hobbs out of there, especially after he falsely arrested Quin.”

  Quin’s face held no expression. “I knew the election was coming up, but what made you run for marshal?”

  He explained how several of the men in town, including Ace, had come to him and asked. “I didn’t think I’d win, but I did.”

  “Hmm.”

  Bowie couldn’t tell if Quin liked it or not. Well, he’d have to get used to it. “I figured having a badge couldn’t hurt the investigation.”

  “True.” The other man studied him thoughtfully. “This means you’re staying at least four years.”

  “Yes.” Bowie tensed, wondering what his brother would say.

  All he got was another, “Hmm.”

  Addie slipped her arm through Bowie’s and half dragged him inside. He looked helplessly over his shoulder and Quin grinned.

  “Let’s go in and have a seat in the parlor,” Addie said. “Elda, my cook, is making dinner.”

  “It’s worth staying for,” Quin added.

  “You don’t have to twist my arm. She fed me a couple of times while you were gone.”

  “You were out here?” Quin’s gray eyes darkened.

  Bowie shifted, his neck burning. He hadn’t meant to mention that. “Just checking on things.”

  His brother’s face lightened, but he said nothing.

  As the three of them walked into the parlor, Addie released him. Bowie took off his hat. In the extra living area across the hall, he saw the mounted longhorn head above the mantel.

  He claimed a seat on the big couch in the parlor. Quin eased down into Pa’s big leather chair and Addie perched on its arm. Memories of the last time he had been in this room with his siblings pricked at Bowie like arrows.

  After a heated exchange, Bowie had charged Quin, who had knocked him into the chair where he now sat. He remembered what Merritt had said about forgiveness and not turning away from family. He dragged a hand across his nape.

  His brother might have been remembering, too. His gaze went to the hand that still carried a scar from being cut that day by Ma’s broken porcelain bowl. “You said you had a lot to tell.”

  Bowie blew out a breath. Placing his hat beside him on the couch, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Where to start? With something positive.

  “Annie got your telegram about Ma and Pa, and she’s coming home. She sent a reply, but since you were gone, it was delivered to me.”

  “Good.” Relief was evident in Quin’s voice.

  Addie reached down and took her husband’s hand.

  “Any word from Chance?” Quin asked.

  “Not yet.” Bowie wondered if his baby brother would even return when he learned their parents had been victims of murder and not a wagon accident. He hoped so.

  “Are you convinced Ma and Pa were murdered?”

  “Yes.” Bowie’s voice hardened. “As sure as hell’s hot.”

  The other man’s eyes glittered. “What have you found out?”

  “The biggest thing is that Hobbs has known it was murder since it happened. In fact, he hired the three men who did it.”

  “I’ll kill that bastard,” his brother said in a quiet, deadly serious voice.

  Addie leaned forward. “How do you know Hobbs was involved, Bowie?”

  “Lefty Gorman.”

  “Lefty.” Her jaw dropped.

  Quin looked just as stunned. “He’s usually liquored up.”

  “I know. Even he wasn’t sure if he’d heard it or dreamed it, but he told me, anyway, and he was right about it.” Bowie explained how the older man had overheard the ex-marshal outside the jail one night telling someone that there was a third party who knew the Cahills had been murdered.

  “I confronted Hobbs, but didn’t tell him where I’d gotten the information.”

  Rage vibrated from Quin. “And he denied everything.”

  “Guts, feathers, beak and all. But later Hobbs’s involvement was confirmed by one of the men who was present when Ma and Pa were killed.”

  “Confirmed how? Did you catch him?” Addie asked.

  “I hope you killed all three of them,” Quin growled.

  “Two of them are dead. Vernon Pettit, who was the man you were accused of killing. And Huck Allen, the man who told you that what happened to Ma and Pa went deeper than we knew.”

  “Huck Allen,” Addie repeated. “That’s the name of the low-down snake who used me like a shield? The one Quin killed at Triple Creek trying to protect me?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, who’s the other hood-wearing coward who got away at Triple Creek and killed your parents?”

  “I’m not sure if they’re the same man, but I’m starting to think so.” Something he wouldn’t share with Merritt just yet. “A man named Saul Bream was the third man present at Ghost Canyon where Ma and Pa died, and he’s the one who confirmed that Hobbs was involved in the murders.”

  Bowie took a deep breath. Might as well just get it out now. “Bream also happens to be Merritt’s foster brother.”

  Addie’s green eyes grew huge.

  “Merritt?” Quin rapped out.

  Bowie grimaced. “I told you there was a lot.”

  Quin shook his head as if to clear it.

  “Bream came to her with the information, saying he and Allen had been hired by Pettit to rob the Cahills. Their job was to stop the wagon. When they did, Pettit ran it off the road.”

  “Into Ghost Canyon.”

  “Pa was finished off with a rifle butt.”

  Quin’s jaw looked tight enough to snap clean in two. “So, why haven’t you arrested this Bream bastard?”

  “I can’t find him, but he’s in touch with Merritt. She’s talked to him twice. She promised to let me know if he contacts her again.”

  His brother stared at him as if he were a half-wit. Yes, Bowie realized how weak-kneed it made him sound that he was willing to wait for Merritt to let him know when she next spoke to her foster brother.

  At his second mention of her friend’s name, Addie’s eyes burned with blatant curiosity.

  Quin stood. “I suppose she’s just going to turn her foster brother over to you out of the goodness of her heart?”

  “No. She knows it’s the right thing to do.” And he believed she would do it, though he hadn’t been completely sure until this past week.

  “That doesn’t mean she will.”

  “True. But she’s the one who gave me the confirmation about Hobbs in the first place. If she were going to hide Bream or his part in this, she wouldn’t have come to me at all.”

  “I guess so,” Quin said grudgingly.

  “So.” Addie’s deep green gaze fixed on Bowie like a dog on point. “How much has Merritt been helping you?”

  “Not that much. I don’t want her involved even as much as she has been.”

  A broad knowing smile spread across his sister-in-law’s face as if she had just caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.

  “Well, hell, man,” Quin barked. “How involved is she?”

  Bowie pinched the bridge of his nose, recalling how he hadn’t been able to pry Saul’s last name out of her. How he had caught her breaking into the ex-marshal’s house to help her foster brother. “She’s in the thick of it.”

  “Who else?” Quin planted his hands on his hips. “The whole town?”

  “No
.”

  “Are you courting her?” Addie asked with what Bowie was coming to recognize as characteristic bluntness.

  “We’ve…become friends.” And more. But he was keeping that to himself for now.

  She grinned as Quin’s gaze swung from Bowie to her, then back to Bowie. Quin frowned. “You really think Merritt will hear from Bream again?”

  “Yes.”

  “And tell you about it?”

  “Yes.” Bowie got to his feet as a roly-poly woman with red hair stuck her head around the door.

  “Supper’s ready, Addie. Hello, Mr. Bowie. Nice to see you again.”

  “You, too, Elda. I’m looking forward to the meal.”

  “Good thing I made plenty.” She chuckled as she disappeared from sight. “Got enough for you and that bottomless pit of a brother.”

  Bowie grinned.

  “We’ll be right in,” Addie called after the woman.

  Quin rubbed a hand down his face, looking haggard as he spoke to Bowie. “Will we?”

  “Yes. I’m starving.” He joined his brother and sister-in-law and walked with them to the large dining room.

  “Anything else we need to know?” Quin put a hand on the small of his wife’s back to let her precede him.

  “Well, I moved Purvis and Fields to Wolf Grove. The day after I won the election, I was bombarded with threats on their lives. A lot of people were het up over the trouble they caused y’all.”

  “Wolf Grove sounds like the best place for them,” Addie said, moving to the long dining table. “I’ve thought about doing them harm myself.”

  Was she serious? Bowie thought she might be. He glanced at Quin, who nodded over his wife’s head at Bowie.

  Supper passed quickly and Bowie lingered afterward, talking to Quin and getting to know his feisty sister-in-law.

  He’d missed suppertime at the Morning Glory. He hoped Merritt would still be awake when he returned to the boardinghouse. It was well after dark when he took his leave of the 4C.

  Quin and Addie walked out with him. The lantern burning on the porch provided enough light for Bowie to see to unloop Midnight’s reins from the hitching post and swing into the saddle.

  “Bo?” Quin’s voice rumbled from the porch.

  He looked up to see his brother standing behind Addie with his arms wrapped around her. Quin looked ridiculously smitten until Addie elbowed him in the stomach and nodded her head toward Bowie.