Wildfire Creek

by Shirleen Davies

  For the first time in her life, Ginny wished she knew more about men. She didn’t like feeling at a disadvantage to anyone, especially Luke.

  “Ginny? Would you mind picking up the empty glasses. I believe we’re about ready to lose a bunch of drinkers.” Al nodded toward the swinging doors as Bull sauntered in, a wide grin splitting his face. He nodded at Luke, then walked straight toward Ellis and pulled him to a standing position.

  “Come on, Ellis. Outside with you.”

  Luke stood and did the same with Rude, then followed Bull outside.

  A few minutes later, they walked in again and did the same with Tat and several men at the other tables, Travis taking their cue and hauling a couple out as well. Others, those able to stand and walk on their own, didn’t protest, just followed everyone out. Bull walked in once more and headed for Johnny, the last of the men. As he leaned down to help him stand, Johnny reared his arm back and tried to land a punch to Bull’s face. He might have succeeded if his actions hadn’t been so slow and sloppy.

  “Whoa, Johnny. I’ll fight you some other time,” Bull chuckled and wrapped both arms around his friend, who stood five inches shorter and weighed at least forty pounds less.

  Ginny watched, fascinated with the way Luke, Bull, and Travis had cleared the saloon of over a dozen drunken cowboys without triggering a brawl. She walked to the door and peered out to see a wagon loaded with at least five men, several others hanging tight to their saddle horns and pulling another horse along. Luke had begun to climb onto the wagon when he looked up to see Ginny watching them.

  “Hold on a minute, Bull.”

  He jumped down and took the steps two at a time to catch her before she disappeared inside. He crossed his arms over his chest and swept his eyes over her, noting the tired expression and lips that had been drawn into a thin line.

  “I’d better finish cleaning up.” She began to turn.

  “Is this it, Ginny? Our friendship’s over because I tried to help you?”

  Her heart stopped and she felt her stomach tighten. At that moment, Ginny knew she needed to mend the rift between them. She turned back toward him and searched his face.

  “I hope we’re still friends.” Her voice came out in a whisper before she worried her lower lip with her teeth.

  He dropped his arms to his sides as his eyes warmed on her face.

  “Good. I’m glad to hear it.” He held her gaze a couple more seconds until she smiled at him, then he turned to head home. Luke didn’t understand why a friendship with Ginny seemed so important to him, but it did. He thought of her on the ride home, glad he’d approached her and grateful for the response. Now his life could get back on track—new home, work he enjoyed, and a friendship he valued.

  “What are you thinking, Rick?” Flatnose asked as they sat on the porch, deciding their next move. They’d stolen three gold wagons over several weeks, stashing the gold in a location no one would ever find. The fact the gang had killed a couple men on the last raid didn’t bother him as much as it did Rick. His partner had warned him several times there would be no killing and to keep his bullets in his gun. He’d followed Rick’s orders the first two attacks. On the third, movement from one man triggered a deadly response. Something about sending a man to his grave was more temptation than Flatnose could resist. It sent a thrill through his body, even if it did incur Rick’s anger.

  “Another wagon is supposed to move within the week. Lansdon to Big Pine. I want to take it, then lay low awhile.” Rick lit a rolled cigarette and inhaled deeply.

  “The same guy who told us about the last shipment?”

  Rick nodded. “He mentioned it when I went to Lansdon this morning.”

  “How many men will we need?”

  “The ones here will do.” Rick flicked the end of his cigarette onto the dirt. “He expects this one to have two additional armed guards.”

  “Six?”

  “That’s what he says.” It had been a good decision to plant his own man in the mining town of Lansdon. He didn’t just hear about shipments from the local mines, but also news of other transports from camps miles away. As a precaution, he hadn’t shared the man’s identity with his partner.

  Until this morning, Rick had been thinking of laying low, maybe leaving the area until spring. They’d stashed away enough gold to make them all rich. Each man could start over someplace far away from the Montana Territory where no one would connect them to the robberies or deaths of the two guards—killings that still weighed heavily on Rick.

  He’d met a lady, a widow who lived near Big Pine. It was at least an hour’s journey, but she was worth it. The information he’d been given today had him reconsidering. One more job, then he’d get a place near Big Pine so he wouldn’t have to ride so far to see her.

  It’d been years since his wife and son were gunned down by that posse in Nebraska. The sheriff had thought Rick belonged to an outlaw group who’d terrorized the local area, stealing and killing at will. At the time, he’d been trying to carve out a living like everyone else. He knew a couple of boys in the gang, but had refused to take part.

  The ten man posse had ridden in, ignoring the commands of the sheriff to stop shooting. Rick shouted at his wife to stay put, but she’d run outside, trying to talk some sense into the sheriff’s men. His eight-year-old son had followed her. When it was over, his family lay dead and he’d been arrested.

  The trial would have been a farce, except the killing of a woman and child didn’t sit well with the inhabitants of this God-fearing town. A group of them hired a lawyer to defend him. Rick had been acquitted and released with an apology. He’d thanked his neighbors, taking their condolences with the good intentions that were meant. Yet his future had changed. It now stretched before him like the desolate, parched earth of his miserable farm. That day he made his choice and, except for a brief stint as a lawman, he’d followed a path outside the law ever since. The one man keeping him from making a final decision to move to Big Pine was the sheriff—Parker Sterling. The man had a reputation for sniffing out those who broke the law, making them pay. Rick had no intention of being one of his casualties.

  “You planning to go see that lady friend of yours?”

  Rick shot a look at Flatnose. The man had an uncanny and unwelcome ability to read his thoughts. He almost didn’t respond, then thought better of it. “Thinkin’ about it.”

  “You want to take off for a while after this next job, go ahead. I can keep enough men here to run the herd this winter. No reason for you to stick around for months when your woman’s in Big Pine. Most of the men have nowhere else to go anyway, and I’ve got Stella here with me.”

  “I’ll consider it.” Rick walked toward the barn. He’d been contemplating riding toward Big Pine, surprising Felicity, and taking her to church. She was a churchgoing woman, same as his wife had been, while not being quite like any churchgoing woman he’d ever known. When they’d first met, he’d introduced himself as Frederick, never mentioning the nickname he used with Flatnose and the other men.

  Heading to Big Pine would give him a chance to learn anything new about local reaction to the three transports his gang already stole. He didn’t want to run into another vigilante situation like the one in Bison City. Or worse, learn they’d hired the Pinkerton Agency to stop the thefts. He’d start out well before dawn, take Felicity to Big Pine for church, then stay in town a few hours before taking her home. He’d learn what he needed, spend time with her, then head back to the ranch to wait for his man’s signal.

  Chapter Seven

  “I’m riding to town, Father. Is there anything you need?” Abigail Tolbert, King Tolbert’s only child, poked her head into his study and continued inside at his nod.

  “Is there anyone riding with you?” It had been a few months since he’d begun to loosen the grip he held on all her activities, and he still found it difficult to provide her with the amount of freedom she wanted. It wasn’t in his nature to relinquish control.

  S
he smiled at him, knowing he loved her, and also understanding she had to be the one to push the boundaries if she were ever to rule her own life. “Everyone’s busy. Besides, I ride to town without escort all the time.”

  “Weather’s changing.” He offered no other argument.

  “It will be—just not today.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners, although her face remained impassive as she waited for her father to come up with another excuse. Patience was her friend in these negotiations. He would relent. Besides, there was someone in town she wanted to see, without the prying eyes of anyone from the ranch.

  “You’ll be back before supper.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Of course.” She stepped closer and looked at the paperwork on the desk. She wished he’d allow her to help with the bookkeeping. He’d refused so far. She longed to be useful at something other than planning meals and making sure the housekeeper did her job. Perhaps someday, if she married and had children, she’d feel different. For now, she needed more.

  “I want you home before dark.”

  She walked around the desk, leaned down, and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be back before you’ve had a chance to miss me.” She left without a backward glance, eager to get started and wanting to leave before he came up with another excuse or request.

  King watched his daughter close the door, already feeling a slight tinge of regret at her riding out alone. It had been a long time, but memories of his niece and her accident years before still haunted him. He’d been busy, eager to close another business transaction. She’d asked permission to ride alone to town and he’d agreed without thought for the time of day or weather. It never occurred to him he’d never see Francine again. He’d promised his sister if anything ever happened to her and her husband, he’d take care of their daughter. King had failed miserably and still berated himself for his lack of judgment.

  He put his hands on the desk and pushed up from his chair, walking to the window as Abby rode out of the barn. She glanced his way, saw him standing there, and waved. Panic seized his chest and he had the strongest urge to ride after her. Instead, he walked to a nearby table, grabbed a glass, and poured a drink, tossing it down his throat in one quick movement.

  King needed to focus on finding her a suitable match. He’d arranged the last shindig in order to invite several potential suitors to the ranch. Of course, neither Abby nor the young gentlemen had any idea the reason behind the party. Although several indicated an interest in his daughter, three asking him if they’d be allowed to call on her, she’d refused to see any of them. He suspected she wouldn’t spurn the attention of one young man in particular who had not been invited, nor would he be if King had his way. Gil Murton might be a hard worker and an honest man, but his lack of wealth and social standing would never be worthy of Abigail Tolbert.

  “Come on, Willie,” Abby urged. “Can’t you move any faster?” she whispered under her breath, trying to press the animal on.

  The person she sought hadn’t come to their party, even though she’d made an extra trip to town to deliver his invitation. She’d been disappointed to find his place closed up tight. Even the store he’d opened a few months before was being run by a young man she’d never met, and he wouldn’t tell her anything other than his boss was away for a couple days.

  She hoped to find him today. Even though it sat at the other end of the main street through town, Abby could hear the church bells chime twelve o’clock. Her destination was at this end and she could already see the smoke from the livery forge. She rounded the corner by the lumber mill, passed the tack and saddle shop, his other business, and reined Willie to a stop in front of the livery. She could see him inside, heating a piece of metal, then pounding it to the desired thickness. Abby sat there, mesmerized by his strong form. He’d taken off his shirt and the muscles of his back were damp with perspiration. She drew in a deep breath and dismounted, hoping he’d take time to talk with her.

  She took a few steps inside, feeling the heat coming at her in waves as the breeze fanned it about. A bucket a few feet away caught her attention and she walked over to pick it up. It appeared more oversized than most she’d seen and Abby wondered if it would be used for a special purpose. She fingered the metal rings, knowing Noah had made them. Her own thoughts encompassed her to such a degree, she didn’t notice the pounding had ceased or that Noah had walked up behind her.

  “Something I can do for you, Miss Tolbert?”

  She jumped, dropping the bucket, a hand flying to her heart as she turned around. “You startled me.”

  She began to bend down toward the bucket when a large hand moved in front of her and grasped the handle. Abby straightened and looked up into the face of the man she’d come to love. She didn’t believe he felt the same, and she knew her father would never approve, but God help her, she couldn’t stay away.

  Noah watched her face turn from alarm to embarrassment to discomfort. He could stare at Abby’s face all day, every day, and never tire of it. Wisps of fiery red hair framed her cream-colored skin, highlighting the splattering of freckles he found so attractive. She may seem frail and waiflike, but something in Noah told him she’d be no man’s doormat.

  Her discomfort grew as he stood in front of her, saying nothing more. “I, uh…came to town to see you, Mr. Brandt.” She felt like an idiot. How long had she known him and she caught herself stumbling over her words?

  “Noah,” he said. They’d agreed to call each other by their first names months before. For some reason, though, both had a hard time doing it.

  “Noah.” Her voice sounded breathless, as if she were winded. Abby reminded herself of why she’d come to see him. “You didn’t come to the party. Didn’t you get the invitation I left with your man at the saddle shop?”

  He set the bucket down and looked at her, his face impassive. “Yes, I got it. I had work to do.”

  He noticed the bright light in her eyes dim a little and regretted being so blunt. One of them had to face the truth. No matter how he felt and regardless of what he saw in her eyes each time he looked into them, King Tolbert would never allow Abby to marry a blacksmith.

  “I heard your father invited several people from Big Pine.” Men of means from what the Tolbert ranch hands had said.

  She clasped her hands in front of her, trying to decide how best to word her response. Winning him over would be hard. He was also more stubborn than any five men she’d ever known. Of course, she’d known virtually no men, except those in town and her father. She’d gone to boarding school in Philadelphia, been surrounded by other girls her age, and had never once been courted. Since coming home, she’d had no desire to be courted, except by one man…the one standing before her.

  “He did. A couple of ranchers, a banker, and a lawyer, all quite boring and, well…quite taken with themselves.” She glanced up at him, a slight smile curving the corners of her mouth.

  “Boring, huh?” Relief he shouldn’t be feeling washed over Noah.

  “The rancher from England had some interesting stories, but he had to be as old as Father.”

  She crinkled her nose and walked past Noah toward the forge. On one wall he hung his finished work, which always fascinated her. She looked over a few pieces before turning back to him. “Is the saddle shop doing well?”

  He watched her move from one object to another. He wished she’d leave, give him some relief from the desire he felt whenever she came around. Didn’t she understand he was not the right man for her, could never give her the life she deserved?

  “I’m sorry. What did you say?” He’d been lost in his own thoughts, but her curious stare caught his attention.

  “The saddle shop… Is it doing well?” She tilted her head to one side, wondering what had captured his interest.

  “Yes, it is. The mining tools sell good, as does the tack. Some days it does better than the livery.” His voiced reflected his pride in the store.

  “Who is the young man working for you?”

  Noah�
�s eyes narrowed on hers and he wondered if perhaps Abby might be attracted to Toby. “Toby Archer. He came in with the same group of settlers as Ginny and her sister.”

  “Oh. I never saw him before I stopped by to invite you to our party.”

  “Would you like me to introduce you, Abby?” He hoped she’d say no, because even though Toby didn’t come from wealth, he had a cleaner soul than Noah. “He isn’t married.”

  Her eyes shot to his as color began to creep up her neck. “What makes you think I care one way or another about him being married? I have no interest in him or anyone else, except…” She clamped her mouth shut.

  “Except?” Noah prodded.

  “Hello, Abby, Noah.”

  They both turned at the sound of Rachel’s voice. Abby was glad for the interruption, but Noah wished he’d been able to hear her response.

  “Hello, Rachel. I’m so glad you were able to attend the party.” Abby had made several friends since coming back home, and even though Rachel was several years older and married, she considered her one of the closest.

  “I had a wonderful time, as did Dax.” She looked at Noah. “We missed you there.”

  He cleared his throat, feeling as if he’d been cornered. “Gabe and I were working on finishing my cabin. It took longer than I thought.” Truth was, he’d never intended to go to the party and neither had Gabe, each for separate reasons. Noah wanted to distance himself from Abby, especially once he’d learned the purpose of the party had been to introduce her to prospective suitors. Gabe just didn’t like King Tolbert, even if most considered him to be the most powerful rancher in the area.

  “You’re building a cabin?” Abby’s head snapped toward Noah.

  “On the land I got from Dax and Luke.”

  “For saving our lives,” Rachel added. She’d always be grateful for Noah’s quick actions that day.

  Abby’s gaze stayed fixed on Noah, whose eyes were trained on the ground. He never mentioned what he’d done at the Frey ranch and didn’t comment when others brought it up. It seemed as if he wanted to forget it and move on, the same as his service during the war. He never discussed what he’d done as a sharpshooter in the Union Army, but Abby believed the experience weighed on him.