Looking back out the window, Robbie pursed his lips. “Do we get ham from them, too?”
Mr. Jaeger grinned. “Ham comes from pigs, young man…and so does bacon.”
Robbie’s face screwed up, as if he couldn’t quite imagine his morning bacon coming from a pig. Sitting back down next to Sam, he pulled on his father’s jacket. “Do we get bacon from pigs?”
Sam’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Yes, son. We do.”
“Will we have cattle and pigs, Papa?”
“Someday perhaps. For now, will you settle for a horse?”
Clapping his hands together, Robbie’s face lit up. “Yes, a horse.”
Mrs. Jaeger leaned forward, patting Robbie on the knee. “I think you’ll make a fine rider, Robbie.”
“Will you have a horse, too?”
She smiled at that, then settled back against her seat. “Well now, I don’t know. Mr. Jaeger and I used to ride quite a bit. We sold the horses when we decided to come west. Maybe someday we’ll get new ones.”
Not long into the journey, Sam had been surprised to learn the Jaegers were moving to Conviction at the encouragement of an old friend—August Fielder. They’d be living with him until they found a place of their own. When Sam had told them Fielder had been the one to find a home for his family, a lively discussion had ensued, the couple recounting stories of the three of them before August got the urge to explore the rest of the country.
Mr. Jaeger crossed his arms, taking a quick glance outside, then looked at Sam. “Have you had word from August since leaving Baltimore?”
“Just one. He left a brief message at the hotel in San Francisco saying he’d found a house for us. We don’t have much, so moving in should take very little time.” His mother’s china and a few other personal items should’ve arrived by the overland route. She’d been hesitant to put it all on the steamer, saying she didn’t trust them to get her precious belongings safely to California. His chest squeezed at the memory. It turned out she’d been right.
“As soon as you’re settled, you’ll have to come over for supper.”
Mr. Jaeger shot a look at his wife. “Mama, August may not want us inviting people over to his house.”
“Nonsense. He’s always enjoyed my cooking, and I don’t intend to sit around and do nothing while you men are off having fun. Besides, his letter said we should treat his house as our own.”
Sam’s lips turned up at the corners, picturing the August Fielder he knew having fun. He didn’t believe he’d ever heard the older man tell a joke, and never knew him to imbibe in more than two drinks.
“We’d be honored to join you for supper when it’s convenient, Mrs. Jaeger.”
Sam glanced at his father, who snored softly next to him. He didn’t know how the elder Covington could sleep during such a rough trip, but he’d been dozing for much of the time since leaving San Francisco.
“And your young lady. You must also bring her along.”
Clearing his throat, Sam began to regret sharing the fact he had feelings for a woman in Conviction. Somehow, he’d even confessed his hope she wouldn’t mind him having a son. Thankfully, he hadn’t mentioned her name or the association between Fielder and the MacLarens.
“We’ll see, Mrs. Jaeger. I’ve been gone a while and have a lot of work ahead of me.” Sam assumed Brodie had received his letter. Once his father and son were settled, he looked forward to returning to his job as a deputy, knowing the sheriff would welcome him back.
Conviction
“A family?” Colin choked on his beer, spewing part of it onto the table he occupied with Quinn and Brodie at Buckie’s Castle. There were no empty chairs at the saloon tonight. He and Quinn had ridden in to speak with August Fielder about the decision to purchase Widow Evanston’s ranch, then stopped by the jail, convincing Brodie he needed a drink before heading home to Maggie.
“Aye. That’s what the letter said. Fielder has found them a house with three bedrooms.” Brodie brought the beer to his lips and drank.
Quinn narrowed his gaze, staring into what remained of his drink. “I’ll be having strong words with the lad if he’s been trifling with Jinny.”
“You? She’s my sister, and he wants to return as a deputy. If he lied to us, I’ll be taking the lad on myself, deputy or not.” Brodie drained the last of his beer, slamming the glass down on the table before signaling the bartender for another.
“You’ll not be doing it alone.”
At the sound of the stage approaching, Colin’s chair scraped across the scarred wood floor as he pushed back from the table, moving to the front window. Pulling out his pocket watch, he glanced outside as the stage came to a stop a few doors away. “It’s running late today.”
“When did you say Sam is supposed to be coming back?” Quinn also stood, walking to the window to peer out.
“Any day now.”
Joining them, Brodie’s gaze hardened as a small boy jumped to the ground, followed by an older couple. A moment later, a tall, slender man with gray hair and alert eyes stepped down, taking a look around before glancing up as the last passenger left the stage.
“Sam.” Colin’s one word had them heading outside.
Brodie’s gaze focused on the small boy, who appeared to be a miniature version of Sam. Jumping up and down, he pointed to a group of cowboys riding up the street, their guns in clear view.
“Papa, look.”
Sam followed the path of the riders until he caught sight of three men moving his way. A smile broke across his face, recognizing the MacLaren men. Holding out his hand to Brodie, his smile faltered when his ex-boss, and friend, glared at him.
“I know I’m a little late arriving—”
“You have a family?” Quinn interrupted before Brodie had a chance to respond. “Do you not think you should’ve mentioned them to us, and to Jinny?”
Dropping his hand, Sam took a step back, clasping Robbie’s shoulder. “Now isn’t the time.”
“Now’s a fine time, lad.” Brodie kept his voice level as he looked at the wide-eyed boy. “Is this your wee lad?”
Clearing his throat, Sam leveled stern eyes on him. “Yes. This is my son, Robbie Covington, and my father, Thomas.” Although the elder Covington had no idea what to make of the conversation, he held out his hand.
“And Mrs. Covington?” Colin asked, shaking Thomas’s hand.
The older man’s face clouded in pain. “My wife died when our steamship sank outside Greytown.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, sir.” Colin turned back to Sam. “And the other Mrs. Covington?”
Seeing anger replace confusion on Sam’s face, Brodie stepped forward. “Sam’s right. We’ve no business talking about this on the street.” Glancing around, he noticed the older couple standing to the side, concern on their faces. Walking toward them, he held out his hand. “I’m Brodie MacLaren, sheriff of Conviction. These are my cousins, Colin and Quinn.”
Shaking the outstretched hand, Mr. Jaeger narrowed his gaze. “We’ve heard many fine things about you and your family from Sam. We hope he was right in his assessment.”
Brodie felt his face heat at the rebuke, knowing he’d crossed a line in front of strangers. “I apologize for our behavior.” He turned to glance at Sam. “We’ve many questions, but here isn’t the place to ask them.” Shifting, he focused his attention on the older couple. “May I direct you somewhere?”
“My wife and I are visiting August Fielder. We’d be grateful for your help in finding his home.”
Brodie winced at the familiar name, feeling another wave of embarrassment at how he and the others had behaved. Counting three trunks on the boardwalk, he turned to Quinn. “Would you ride to Stein’s and ask for the use of his wagon?”
Tipping his hat, his own face a light shed of red, Quinn nodded. “Aye. I’ll be right back.”
Holding Robbie in his arms, Sam walked up to the Jaegers, ignoring Brodie and Colin. “Would you care to join us for supper at the Gold Rush?”
“Another time then.” Sam’s jaw hardened, his face a mask as he did his best to control the anger coursing through him.
“Come by August’s house once you’ve settled into your new home. I was quite serious about having you over for supper.”
“We’ll be sure to do that, Mrs. Jaeger. Now, I believe it’s time to feed my father and son, then find them rooms. It was a pleasure traveling with you.”
“Same here, young man. You be sure to let us know if you need anything, such as someone to watch Robbie.”
“I just may do that.” Sam appreciated the offer, especially after being on the receiving end of the MacLarens’ rage. He had an inkling what triggered their displeasure, but wasn’t yet ready to set aside his irritation at their method of confronting him. Then a flash of concern hit him, wondering if Brodie had said something to Jinny about him returning to Conviction with his family. For the first time, Sam began to understand how his poorly worded letter may have caused the men to approach him with such hostility.
Brodie walked up. “Why don’t you take them to the Gold Dust? Colin and I will wait here for Quinn, then make certain they get to Fielder’s.”
“Thanks, Brodie. Once they’re settled, I’ll meet you at the jail. It seems we have much to discuss.”
“Aye. It seems we do.”
Several hours later, the three MacLarens and Sam sat around Brodie’s desk at the jail, an untouched bottle of whiskey and four glasses before them. His normally impeccable attire—brown brocade vest, white shirt, black jacket, and black string tie—showed the effects of days on a stage.
“I’ve mishandled this from the start.” Sam pushed a hand through his hair, then rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.
“Aye, the letter could’ve been more clear. The rest though…” Brodie leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk.
“What more could you have done, Sam?” Quinn picked up the bottle, pouring them each a shot and passing the glasses around. “You knew nothing of your son until you received the telegram asking you to return to Baltimore.”
“I should’ve mentioned the reason for leaving.” Sam let out a slow breath, closing his eyes. He was dead tired, but needed to take care of any misunderstandings tonight. “If I’d known for certain Robbie was my son…but I didn’t. I chose to keep my reasons confidential until I knew without doubt Robbie belonged to me.” Standing, he paced to the window, looking out onto an almost empty, dark street. “Vera never contacted me. What kind of woman keeps that information from the father?”
“A scared one.” Colin held the glass in his hand, then took a sip, his voice contemplative. “Maybe she didn’t know how to reach you. Or she died before she had a chance to deliver a message.”
Turning, Sam leaned back against the window, his eyes glassy. “After Robbie was born, she told her parents she’d quit passing on information to the South. Like much of what she said, it was a lie. Her body was found one day at dawn, a few miles from their home, a bullet in her chest. A Union captain delivered the news—a man she’d known in school. Robbie was less than a year old.” Pushing away, he stalked to the desk, picked up a glass, and downed the contents in one swallow. “I’d already moved away, taking on a different assignment with General McClellan. Time passed, and my final assignment brought me out here. The Fosters found me by contacting Allan Pinkerton. They’d still be searching if he hadn’t given them my whereabouts.”
“You did what was right, Sam. No one can fault you for that.” Brodie rolled the shot glass in his hand, then set it down, his expression serious. “Jinny, though...the lass is a mystery. She’s done nothing to hide her feelings for you, so don’t be asking to court her unless you intend to marry my sister.”
Sam opened his mouth to speak, then closed it when Quinn spoke. “What of the Arrington lad?”
Sam’s brows furrowed. “Arrington lad? Who’s he?”
An uneasy look passed between the MacLarens before Brodie spoke. “Deke Arrington is Rube Ferguson’s nephew. He works at the saddlery.”
Sam waited for Brodie to continue, cocking his head when he offered nothing more. “And?”
Brodie sighed. “And the lad spends a great deal of time with Jinny. They ride every Saturday.”
“On the saddle Deke made for her,” Quinn added.
Sam didn’t attempt to stifle his cursing. Shredding both hands through his hair, he sat down, his shoulders slumping. “How long?”
Quinn glanced at Colin and Brodie. “Only a few weeks. It’s clear they like each other well enough, but it’s not the same as when you were here.”
His defeated gaze sought out Brodie. “Has he asked to court her?”
“Nae. At least not officially, although he did ask Da if he could call on her.”
Another oath slipped through Sam’s lips. “It’s the same thing, Brodie.”
“If you’d be asking my thoughts, I think they’re just friends.” Brodie gripped his glass, finishing the contents.
Sam snorted. “Most in town would’ve said the same about Jinny and me.”
Colin gave him a sympathetic smile, filling Sam’s glass a second time. “Aye, but the lass doesn’t look at Deke the way she used to look at you.”
“Used to, Colin. It’s been months since we’ve seen each other. I should’ve sent a telegram, told her how I felt. If I’d only known for certain I’d be returning…but I didn’t.”
Brodie sat up, stretching his hands above his head. “Perhaps we’re worried for nothing. Why don’t you ask Jinny? You could ride to the ranch tomorrow and speak with her.”
Quinn winced. “Uh, tomorrow is Saturday, Brodie.”
“So?”
“Saturday is when Deke and Jinny ride, then he stays for supper.”
Quinn’s words sliced through Sam. The more they spoke, the more it became apparent Deke was indeed courting Jinny. He’d lost her because he couldn’t tell her the truth.
Sam loved Jinny, wanted her for his wife, and knew she felt the same. At least she had before he left, telling her he didn’t know when, or if, he’d be returning. He wanted to slam his fist into a wall, shout at his own stupidity. Instead, he downed another glass of whiskey, then a third one.
Brodie felt terrible for the man he considered a good friend. “No sense drinking yourself blind, lad. Come to supper on Sunday. I’ll let Jinny know so she’ll be prepared to see you. It’s the only way to learn the truth.”
Sam swallowed the hard knot in his throat. “Don’t tell her about Robbie. I need to do that myself.”
“I’ll not say a word, except that you’ve returned and are coming to supper.”
Seeing the surprise on the others’ faces, Sam drank one more shot of whiskey, then set the glass down before standing and walking to the door. “Sunday it is. The day I learn my fate.”
Chapter Fifteen
Outskirts of Circle M Ranch
“I’m not staying behind, Captain.” Sergeant Parry pushed to a sitting position, then fell back when his injured leg couldn’t support his attempt to stand.
Eplett studied him with his arms crossed, shaking his head. “I’ve already made my decision. You’re not able to stand or ride, but you can guard our camp while we’re gone. I’m leaving one man here with you.”
Disgust filled Parry’s voice. “I don’t need anyone else with me. Give me a gun and lots of ammunition and I’ll keep any intruders away.”
Eplett figured the sergeant would feel this way. There wasn’t much anyone would want in their meager camp, except the stash of cash from the bank robberies. Only he and Parry knew the money’s location, and he trusted the man with his life. Still, he hesitated leaving him alone.
“Don’t think so hard on this, Captain. You need all the men with you today, the same as you’ll need
all of us when the sheriff agrees to the exchange. Go on and grab the girl. I’ll be fine here by myself.” Parry adjusted his position, leaning back against a tree.
“All right, but be careful.” Eplett placed a rifle across Parry’s lap, setting extra ammunition beside him. “This shouldn’t take long. How much trouble can one girl and her companion be?” He chuckled, looking forward to the look on Miss MacLaren’s face when she recognized him and his men. Opening a pouch, he tossed Parry some hardtack and jerky. “You’ve got plenty of water.”
“By the time we’re ready to ride out of here, I’ll be strong enough to get on my horse.” Parry grumbled a few more words, then looked up at Eplett. “You’re certain you want to do it this way, Captain? Seems easier to ride into town and take Card from the jail.”
Eplett battled his frustration. They’d had this discussion several times and he was through talking about it. “I’m certain.”
Without another word, he walked toward his horse and mounted, signaling the men to follow him. Within a few hours, they’d have their hostage and exchange her for Card. If something happened between those two events, so be it. He wouldn’t second-guess himself or the motivation behind it. In the end, no one would get hurt and they’d be on their way south, toward the Mexican border.
Circle M Ranch
“Are you ready?” Jinny glanced over her shoulder at Deke, who finished checking his saddle cinches before mounting.
“I am. Are we still riding to the old Estrada hacienda?” They moved at a slow walk, leaving behind the barns, corrals, and houses forming the MacLaren compound.
“If you have the time. It will take us most of the day.” Jinny leaned back, patting her saddlebags. “Ma packed us enough food for a week.”
Deke chuckled at the way Lorna MacLaren fussed over them. He didn’t know how much Jinny had told her mother about them, but it seemed she had the impression they were courting, moving toward a serious relationship rather than just being friends. At one point, he’d hoped for more. It had taken time with Jinny to realize he didn’t feel the spark of passion he’d anticipated. He wanted a woman who could be his friend, as well as set his blood on fire. Jinny fit well into the first, and he was content with that.
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