“Garrett Cane!” Flynn O’Neills shouted. “As I live and breathe. I heard you were sheriff of some Podunk town, and here you are.”
His father’s solicitor, a man Garrett hadn’t seen in over fifteen years, crossed the distance between them before Garrett could catch his breath. As Flynn embraced him, Garrett stiffened. He kept his hand firmly anchored in Jo’s comforting grasp. The McCoys gathered around.
The whole family was home for Sunday dinner. Caleb and David stood together, Abraham hung back, Michael and Maxwell appeared in the door of the barn. Visitors were rare, and unexpected visitors even more so.
Flynn spread his arms in an encompassing gesture to the curious family. “I haven’t seen Garrett here since he was a strapping lad full of fight like his old da.”
Mr. and Mrs. McCoy, alerted by the commotion, emerged from the house.
The solicitor’s hair was grayer and his face and chest softer, but other than that, he hadn’t changed much over the years. Flynn was just as Garrett remembered him—larger than life and as slick as a moss-covered rock. He was stout and well groomed, his jowls and nose pink from years of drink. And he still had that same air of easy charm about him.
If he noticed Garrett’s odd response, nothing showed on his face. His gray hair was greased back against his head, and his suit was impeccably cut. A heavy gold chain ran between his watch pockets.
The group exchanged a noisy round of greetings, and Flynn made a great show of repeating back the names of each McCoy in turn.
The past came rushing back, and Garrett struggled for breath.
Jo squeezed his hand. “Are you all right? You’re whiter than a sheet on bluing day.”
“Fine, I’m just surprised. That’s all.” Garrett shook his head, clearing the memories. “Flynn, what are you doing here? I didn’t think Cimarron Springs was your sort of town.”
The solicitor lifted his gold-tipped cane. “I got your telegram, of course.”
Sensing the underlying current of tension, Edith McCoy gathered her family. “Let’s set the table for dinner and give these gentlemen a chance to catch up.”
While Flynn offered a few charming words, Mrs. McCoy blushed coyly, Jo loosened her grip.
She smiled at their unexpected guest. “I hope you’ll join us for dinner, Mr. O’Neills. Especially after you’ve traveled all this way.”
“Much obliged.”
Garrett clung to her fingers for another long moment. He caught her gaze and saw the confusion in her eyes.
The solicitor sauntered over, his watch chain flashing in the brilliant sunlight, and made a point of sizing up Jo. “And who is this lovely young lady?”
His gaze dipped pointedly at their linked fingers.
Garrett released his hold. His feelings were too raw and new for sharing. “This is my fiancée, JoBeth McCoy. Flynn was my father’s solicitor.”
“More than that, surely,” Flynn boomed. “I’ve been a close friend of the family for many, many years.”
Jo and Flynn linked hands in a greeting, and apprehension snaked down Garrett’s spine. What would Flynn say? Would he let something slip?
Garrett’s hackles rose and he instinctively felt the need to protect her. “I’ll meet you inside, Jo.”
She hesitated, her curious gaze shifting between the two men, then dutifully retreated into the house.
Flynn slapped him on the back as the door closed behind her. “You always could pick a winner. That’s a diamond in the rough you’ve discovered. I wouldn’t have thought it possible in this wilderness.”
Garrett clenched his jaw. “You’re a long way from home.”
“I’m on my way to Denver.” Flynn tugged his leather gloves over his unnaturally pale wrists. “I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see an old friend of the family. Especially after you’d contacted me personally.”
“Did you discover anything?”
“It’s just as you suspected. Edward hasn’t turned a profit since your uncle died. He isn’t the businessman his dad was. Your sister, on the other hand, left a tidy sum.”
“You think Edward is after Cora for the money?”
“It’s a fair guess. He’s been making a lot of noise around town. Bringing up the past.”
Garrett felt the blood drain from his face. “Do you think that will hold sway with the judge?”
“Not if you’re married. They can’t hold your father’s actions against you. And you’ve proven yourself an honorable man over the years.”
Garrett’s uneasiness grew with each word. He’d kept his life sequestered. He’d left St. Louis behind and started over. For fifteen years he’d kept his secrets hidden, safely tucked away in another time. With Flynn here, his past and future collided.
“Don’t worry,” Flynn spoke. “Edward hasn’t the stamina for a fight. He’ll drop the case once he realizes you won’t give up Cora. He’s a coward at heart.”
Staring sightlessly into the distance, Garrett struggled with his growing dread. “My dad was a decorated hero during the war. Look what that got him.”
Flynn braced both hands on his walking stick. “They don’t know about your parents, do they?”
“They don’t.”
“You can’t hide forever.”
“I have to.” Garrett paused. “For Cora’s sake, don’t say anything.”
“I won’t, but you should. A foundation of lies is a poor way to build a life. They’re good people. Give them a chance.”
“I’m a lawman, too. I have a family to support now. It’s not just me, it’s Cora’s future I’m risking.”
Garrett had already set the wheels in motion, and there was no halting the marriage. He’d compromised Jo in the eyes of the town, and he’d do the right thing by her. This time he’d stick to the original plan. He’d pull away and put some distance between them— physically and mentally.
A voice called and Garrett turned.
Jo motioned from the porch. “Supper is ready.”
As for the kisses they’d shared, Garrett would lock away the precious memories. They’d go back to being friends, back to the way things were before the fire.
Jo rested her forehead on the door. “I don’t want to interrupt, but if we don’t sit down quick, the boys are going to gnaw into the wooden table.”
Despair tightened in his chest. How could a person gain and lose everything in a single day?
* * *
The wagon tipped along a deep rut, throwing Jo into Garrett. She savored the contact until he steadied her with one hand, keeping his other fisted around the leather reins.
“Tell me about Flynn?” she asked.
He glanced at her, his face inscrutable in the twilight. “There isn’t much to say.”
“I thought you’d be happy seeing someone from your past.”
“A lot of years have gone by,” he replied, his tone clipped.
Jo recalled the inquiry she’d sent to the solicitor. “Did he have the information you were searching for?”
“Yep.”
His curt tone raised her hackles. There’d been a ridge of tension around Garrett since his old friend’s arrival. The camaraderie they’d shared was gone.
A dozing Cora stirred against Jo’s side as Garrett halted the team and wrestled the brake into position.
He slanted a glance at his slumbering niece. “My cousin is in financial trouble, just as I suspected. Edward doesn’t want custody to protect Cora from me. He needs her inheritance to save his business.”
Jo titled her head. “Is something else wrong?”
“I wanted a minute to talk with you.” Shadows played across his face. “While Cora is sleeping.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry. About earlier today. At the corral.”
Jo gras
ped his arm. “I’m not.”
“We agreed to get married for Cora’s sake, to give her a family. I forgot myself, and I apologize for that. We agreed this was a partnership, a friendship, and I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain.”
“Does this have something to do with Flynn’s visit?” Her voice cracked. “You’ve been different since he came along.”
“I’ve just been thinking, that’s all. Do you really want to get married?”
He was doing it again, running hot and cold. She should be used to his changing attitude by now, but she wasn’t. “Are you sore at me?”
“No, of course not.” He swiveled on the bench seat and grasped her shoulders. “I care about you, Jo. And I want what’s best for you. We’ve been treating this whole thing like we don’t have any other choice. But there’s always a choice. If I leave, the gossip will die down soon enough.”
His sudden change of heart wasn’t about the two of them—this was about Flynn. The solicitor had said something that spooked him. “Did Flynn threaten you?”
“Of course not. This has...this has nothing to do with him. Maybe we were taking the easy way out. We can say we fought. I can say you called off the marriage. I’ll take the blame.”
He had secrets, but he was a good man. Jo knew it in her heart. Whatever Flynn held over him, she didn’t care. Nothing could change her mind about the man she’d agreed to marry. “What do you want?”
The agonizing question stretched out between them while crickets chirped in an early-summer chorus. Jo clutched her hands together and waited. She’d thought they were growing closer. They talked together, they laughed together, he’d held her close and kissed her until she was breathless.
Another thought brought her up short. Unless he hadn’t enjoyed their time together. Perhaps his indecision had nothing to do with Flynn’s arrival, and everything to do with the kisses they’d shared.
Garrett shifted. “I want to do the right thing, but I don’t know which choice is right.”
“What’s the best choice for Cora?”
“You are,” he answered immediately, “You’re the best thing for her. She loves you, and I don’t want her to lose any more than she already has.”
Jo’s ma had accused her of being selfish. Was she? After all, she’d moved into town rather than take over the midwife’s duties.
She wasn’t the kind of girl men courted—she’d known that from the beginning. He’d wanted a partnership; she was the one who’d wanted more. If he wanted a friend, she’d be a friend. They’d go back to the way things were.
Jo studied the purple-tinted twilight sky and gathered her nerve.
She touched his leather-clad hand, heartened by the almost imperceptible tremble she felt in his fingers. “Then let’s do what’s right for Cora, and never mind about anything else.”
“Okay.” Garrett spoke so quietly she wasn’t even certain she’d heard him correctly.
Each tentative step she’d taken forward had been met with resistance. He’d called her beautiful, and then he’d pulled away. She feared this power he held over her. His embrace left her feeling exuberant and capable, his rejection shook her faith.
Jo squared her shoulders. She’d pull away, too, just as Garrett had. She refused to let him hurt her anymore.
Chapter Seventeen
The house stood a half mile from the edge of town, a two-story white clapboard with a gabled roof and whitewashed picket fence. According to local gossip, the home had been empty for over a year since the Millers had moved to Denver.
Garrett yanked at the overgrown weeds until he found the gate hook. The fence had collapsed in two places and several of the boards were rotted through. He surveyed the sparse lawn and unlocked the front door with the rusted key he’d acquired from the lawyer, then pried open the stiff hinges. The dank, moldy smell of disuse triggered an unexpected jolt of melancholy.
How quickly abandonment turned to disrepair. Houses were meant to be lived in. A spindly chair rested on its side, and Garrett lifted it upright. Lulled by the quiet, he meandered around the sprawling floor plan, weaving his way through the sitting room, parlor, dining room and finally the kitchen.
He took the back steps to the second floor and discovered three good-size bedrooms devoid of furniture. The floorboards creaked as he crossed the spacious hallway and glanced out the window toward the rolling hills. Someone had planted a brace of poplar trees, and they’d grown as high as the second-floor eaves. An excellent windbreak.
Garrett rested his hands on the dusty sill. He wanted to ensure the house was sound before Jo arrived. Despite his good intentions, he’d hurt her last evening. She didn’t understand and he couldn’t offer an explanation without dredging up the past.
A train whistle sounded, and Garrett caught sight of the 3:15 from Wichita on the horizon. Everything was going according to plan, yet he couldn’t shake his unease. Nothing good ever lasted long.
Garrett shook off the odd feeling. The train posed no danger. It was just another passenger train, just another group of weary travelers stopping for lunch on the way to someplace else. Families seeking a better life, soldiers transferring West, adventurers itching for their next exploit. Flynn’s arrival had shaken him, that’s all. And for good reason.
The country was shrinking. Each new set of rail tracks brought the coasts closer together. Once the Union and the Central Pacific rail lines had joined, there was no going back. The moment two merging railroads had driven in the golden stake at Promontory Summit, they’d forged the destiny of a nation.
A man couldn’t hide anymore.
Garrett turned away from the window, but the sense of unease followed him. He’d run out of places to hide. How long before his past caught up with him?
* * *
Jo rested her chin on the rounded tip of the broom handle. She’d steeled herself against her attraction, and so far it had worked.
She and Garrett were getting along well, pretending nothing had sparked between them. “This isn’t so bad.”
Garrett sat back on his heels and wiped the perspiration from his forehead with the back of his hand. “Could be worse.”
They’d been working since dawn, scrubbing floors and walls and trim. Beneath a year and a half of neglect they’d uncovered a relatively sound house. “If we paint tomorrow, I can oil the floors on Thursday.”
“I’ll help.” Garrett ran the back of his hand over his forehead.
“Can you take that much time away from the town?”
He rose and dusted his hands together. “About that. What do you think of David as a permanent deputy?”
Scratching beneath the red bandanna she’d knotted over her hair, Jo considered his announcement. “I never thought about it. I figured he’d move to Wichita. He spends enough time there.”
“He needs work. He’s not a farmer like Caleb.”
Jo lifted the broom and dusted the cobwebs hanging in the corner of the spacious dining room. “I still think he’ll opt for Wichita.”
“He’ll stay.”
“How can you be so certain?”
Garrett cleared his throat.
Stifling a sneeze, Jo dropped the broom and caught his guilty expression before he quickly turned away. “You’re keeping a secret. What are you hiding?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying. I can tell.” Brandishing her broom, she pointed the bristles at his chest. “Tell me or I’ll cover you in cobwebs.”
Garrett held up his hands. “He’s been spending more time at the mercantile than Caleb.”
Her hands went slack and the bristles hit the floor, stirring a plume of dust. “No.”
“Yes.”
“Well, what are you going to do?”
“Nothing.” Garrett dropped his arms. “What am I supposed
to do?”
“I don’t know, talk to them. Mary Louise isn’t worth fighting over.”
“It’s none of our business. But I suspect she’s got a shine for David.”
Jo groaned. “Then someone should talk with Mary Louise.”
“Leave it alone. Anything you or I say will only make things worse. This has to play out on its own.”
“Fine. But don’t you think he’s awfully young for all that responsibility?”
“You lost me.” Garrett frowned. “Did we change subjects?”
“Don’t avoid the question.”
“David is young, but he’ll learn. I was an army scout at seventeen.”
She tried to imagine Garrett as a young man. Wide-eyed and innocent. The picture didn’t form. “What was that like?”
“Hot in the summer, cold in the winter and hungry year-round.”
“A dockworker at fifteen, an army scout at seventeen. You’ve led a full life, Garrett Cain.”
A call from the second floor interrupted her next question. Jo dashed toward the stairs. “Cora?”
The little girl appeared at the head of the stairs. “I found another mice nest.”
Propping her broom against the wall, Jo grimaced. “I’ll come and take a look. That’ll be the fourth one we’ve found so far.”
She took the stairs two at a time and followed Cora into the smallest of the upstairs rooms. The house was a basic foursquare, with a master suite, two good-size bedrooms and a utility space all grouped around an open landing.
Cora knelt before a cupboard and pointed. Sure enough, a soft nest of wool, leaves and a bright length of orange yarn nestled in the corner.
Garrett’s footsteps sounded behind her. “More mice?”
Glancing over her shoulder, Jo nodded. “I think we should consider taking one of Maxwell’s kittens.”
“I don’t like animals in the house.” Garrett knelt beside her. “But I guess I’d rather have a cat than mice.”
“The cat can stay in the house while we finish cleaning up. She can stay in the barn after that.”
As he leaned in for a closer look, their shoulders brushed together. Garrett reached around her, and Jo leaned into his arm. He scooted back and she leaned the opposite direction, crowding him, forcing the contact. He wasn’t immune to her, she knew it, felt it in her bones. Yet each time she initiated even the lightest touch, he pulled away.
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