“Glad to. Bring everyone inside. Tilly’s got plenty of stew and biscuits if you’re hungry.” Ty married Tilly the year before, pulling her from a life at the Wild Rose and giving her the family she’d never had.
As everyone filled their stomachs with hot food, Gil sketched out different areas where cattle could be held without detection. When he finished, adjusting the map after comments from Mark and Ty, he sat back, eyeing the others.
“You know, it might take weeks to find the herd. They could drive them over the mountains into Idaho, but they’d need to wait another month for the passes to clear of snow.”
“What about Denver?” Noah asked, studying the map and noting the approximate distances Gil wrote down.
“It’s possible. A little more risk of Indian raids and the drive will take longer. ‘Course, they’ll lose cattle no matter which route they take.”
Mark leaned toward Ty, whispering in his ear.
“Might be best to start as far south as you can, then work north. They don’t want to be found, and the chances of being seen are greater the further north they go.” Ty nodded to Mark, who leaned back in his chair. Of the three, most knew little about Mark, other than he spoke little and was agonizingly shy to the point of being reclusive. “There’s a natural break in the mountain range about here.” He pointed to a spot on the map. “It’s doubtful they’d keep them further south than this last canyon.”
Abby closed her cash drawer. She’d finished with the last customer and had already counted the money, accounting for every penny. She felt more tired than normal today. She hadn’t slept well, waking up several times, lying awake and thinking about the dangers Noah might be facing.
He’d been gone two days without word. They’d made no firm plans, he had yet to tell her he loved her, but she knew her world would crumble if anything happened to him.
“Are you ready, Abby?” Sally Phelps crossed behind her toward the safe where Abby stored her drawer each night. Mr. Clausen left early, still tiring easily because of the wound to his arm, leaving Sally in charge of closing up.
“I am.” Abby stored the money, grabbed her wrap, and waited at the front door.
“Do you expect your man back tonight?”
A slow grin tugged at Abby’s lips. “He’s not my man, Mrs. Phelps.”
“Well, darn close, if you ask me. And one fine man he is.”
Abby could feel heat creep into her cheeks at the comment. “Yes, he is a fine man. Good evening, Mrs. Phelps.”
“Don’t worry. He’ll come back in one piece.” Sally closed and locked the door, leaving Abby to wonder how she could be so confident.
Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and walked across the street. As usual, the tinny sound of the piano in the Dixie drifted outside. Nick went back to work Saturday afternoon, just one day after the attack. She’d watched him struggle with his meals at the boardinghouse, finding it difficult to lift the fork to his mouth. Lena tried to help, but he’d brushed off her efforts each time. So stubborn, Abby thought. She glanced inside to see Nick and Lena near the bar, talking. He appeared to be doing his best to stand erect and ignore the pain.
She walked past the clinic toward Suzanne’s. It seemed odd not to see images of firelight dancing through the door of the livery or hear the occasional clank of hammer to metal. She shifted toward the boardinghouse, placing a hand on her stomach. Abby had grown used to seeing Noah waiting for her, his large frame filling the doorway as he made a slight bow. He’d made a habit of greeting her after work, then returning to his work at the livery before escorting her to supper. Some nights, when he couldn’t get away, she’d bring him supper, then sit until he finished eating.
Few tables were occupied in the dining room at this hour, even though travelers and locals tended to eat their evening meal early. She could smell a mix of aromas coming from the kitchen as she let her shawl slip from her shoulders. Folding and placing it over her arm, she stepped through the kitchen door, her brows creasing when she didn’t see Suzanne.
Crossing the room, she pushed the back door open, peering toward the garden Suzanne kept next to the house. This time of year, all she could harvest were a sparse amount of herbs. By the heart of the summer, she’d have radishes, carrots, tomatoes, leeks, and onions.
“Suzanne.” She waited a moment, then called again. Getting no response, she slung her shawl around her shoulders and descended the steps to the yard, walking toward the thin stream behind the buildings. She looked around and called once more before hearing laughter coming from the direction of the Dixie a few doors away.
She followed the sound to see Suzanne leaning against a tree trunk and laughing, her arms folded across her stomach. A man Abby had never seen stood near her, holding his hat in one hand, motioning with the other. She crept closer, not wanting to interrupt, but curious as to the man’s identity. Looking down to avoid a branch spread across the ground, she startled at the sound of a man’s voice next to her.
“Here. Let me help you.”
She looked up to see the man who’d been talking with Suzanne next to her, holding out an arm and offering a warm smile.
“Thank you.” She wrapped her arm through his. “I’m Abigail Tolbert.”
“Yes, I know. Over the years, Suzanne has told me about you.”
“Over the years?”
“My apologies. I’m Quentin Briar. Suzanne is my sister-in-law.”
“You never mentioned you had other family,” Abby said as they stopped next to Suzanne.
“Of course I did. You’ve just forgotten. Besides, you were back east at school when Quentin last came for a visit. He lives in San Francisco and traveled here to see Nick and Lena.”
“And you,” he added, looking at Suzanne, who laughed.
“Of course. Anyway, I’ve learned he’s known Nick for years.”
Abby cocked her head, a slight frown crossing her face. “Do you mind if I ask you a question, Mr. Briar.”
“Not at all.”
“Why would a sophisticated couple such as Nick and Lena move to a frontier town? Splendor is a wonderful place, but I’d think they’d want to live in a more vibrant city with more to offer.”
“First, they aren’t a couple, as most would believe. They’re more like family—older brother and much younger sister. You’ll understand when you’ve had more time to get to know them. They’re devoted to each other, but that’s it. As far as Splendor, I confess, I don’t know the answer. They’ve done well for themselves. Nick is a genius with money, investing it in land, buildings, gold and silver mines, even a railroad. He’s determined that Lena will want for nothing if something happens to him. He’s quite protective of the women in his life. I had the opportunity to meet his mother before she died. Nick had set her up in a house outside of New Orleans. She must have been in her sixties, but still stunning. I believe he kept the place.”
“Ah, there you are. Telling lies I wager.” Nick came through the back door of the saloon, clasping Quentin on the shoulder.
“The ladies were curious about your businesses. I hope you don’t mind I filled them in on some of it.”
“No real secrets, I hope.” Nick’s gaze focused on Suzanne. They’d become friends since he moved to Splendor and took up residence in her boardinghouse.
“Don’t believe I know any true secrets,” Quentin joked.
“I came out to see if you’ll join Lena and me for supper. Of course, you’ll join us, Miss Tolbert.” He shot a look at Suzanne, shaking his head. “You and I are going to sit down, go over the business. It’s time you hired some help, Suzanne.”
Her mouth opened, then closed. It had been a long time since a man tried to insert himself into her life. A part of her felt gratitude—another part felt offended. “I’m not certain I can afford help.”
He offered her his arm. “Trust me. You can.”
Dirk Masters left his horse several yards away, making his way through thick bushes and squeezin
g around boulders until he could get a clear view of the camp. He counted fifteen men, not knowing if five still watched the herd. He guessed they did. None looked similar to the description Tolbert gave him of Drake.
It appeared they’d been here for at least a week, maybe more. All were armed. Rifles leaned against bedrolls, rocks, and trees, and he noticed most of the men wore knife scabbards.
Rustling sounds to his right caused Dirk to shuffle backwards, hunkering down behind a large rock formation. A man emerged from a thick group of bushes, hiking up his pants as he strolled toward the fire. Drake.
“What’s the decision?” A stocky man with a scar down his face stood as Drake approached.
“Tolbert first. He always keeps thirty or forty head near the ranch house. Rotates them every couple weeks and rarely leaves men to guard them. We’ll take what’s there and head out.”
“When?”
Drake looked around, noting the men staring at him, waiting for a decision. He knew they were tired of sitting around, watching the herd and doing little else. These were men who craved action.
“I’ll let you know as soon as Archie returns.” He pulled a cheroot from a shirt pocket and lit it, letting the smoke out in a thin stream as the men returned to what they were doing.
Archie, Dirk thought. He’d heard the name, believed he was one of the two men who worked for Tolbert with Drake.
Dirk didn’t wait to hear more. He needed to let Tolbert know his ranch would be next and where they planned to strike. Drake was right. Tolbert did keep a small herd close to the house and rotated them often, posting no more than two men to keep watch. Dirk had never asked him why, assuming it was another one of the peculiar quirks the man possessed.
Dirk shot one more look around the boulder, noting several men playing cards while others sat or stood around and watched. Drake and three others huddled several feet away, on the opposite side of the camp from Dirk. Time for him to leave.
He’d almost made it to his horse when it let out a whinny, loud enough he knew the others would hear and come looking. Dirk ran the rest of the way, mounted, and kicked the horse into a run as the sounds of shouting and men pushing through brush came from the direction of the camp. He leaned forward, flattening himself low across the saddle as a bullet whizzed past, followed by another. He hit open ground and gained speed, then reined his horse away from where Tolbert and the others were camped. In case some of Drake’s men were able to get back to their horses and try to follow him, he didn’t want to cut a straight path to the camp a few miles away.
Dirk changed directions again, riding up into the nearby mountain, losing himself, and his tracks, on the rocky path. Spotting a darkened cave, he guided his horse inside and slid off. He’d stay long enough to make certain no one followed, then he’d be back on the trail and head toward Tolbert’s camp.
Sitting straight up from where he dozed near the horses, Noah scrubbed a hand over his face, certain he’d heard gunfire. It was still early, well before most turned in for the night. The others milled about, checked their guns, played cards, or sipped coffee. No one else seemed to have heard the sound, making him think he’d dreamed it. He tried to screen out the camp chatter and listened again. Nothing.
“Here, drink this.” Gabe stood in front of him, offering a cup filled with coffee, then squatting down beside him.
“Did you hear anything a few minutes ago?”
“Like what?”
“Gunfire.”
Gabe sharpened his gaze and stood, turning in a circle, listening. He could hear the low voices of the men as they filled their time.
“How many shots?”
“Just one. Probably a dream.” Noah stood. “You plan on all of us staying together tomorrow or splitting into groups?”
“We’ve been talking about that. Cash and Beau want to split up into three groups, set up a base camp to meet tomorrow night.”
“Makes sense.”
“Maybe. With all the canyons, it’ll be slow going in one large group. Problem is, three or four men aren’t going to be able to do much if they run into Drake’s gang. I don’t want to ride back to Splendor with less men than we rode out with.”
“For all we know, they’ve taken the cattle and left. It may be the money from the bank was what he needed until they sold the herd. They could be miles from here by now.” Noah drank the last of the coffee and set the cup on a nearby rock.
“You believe that?”
“Nope.” The corners of Noah’s mouth tipped up in a grim smile. “I agree with what Dax and Luke think. Part of what Drake wants is revenge. If not, why come to Splendor at all? It’d be safer to bypass it altogether. The man’s got a lot of greed and hatred built up inside, and from what I’ve heard, I believe he wants to take it out on the Pelletiers and Tolbert.”
Gabe nodded, thinking the same and deciding the quicker they found the man, the safer they and the town would be.
“We’ll plan to ride out in groups. You and I in one, Dax and Luke in the second, and Cash and Beau in the third. I’ll tell the others we’ll be heading out at sunrise.”
Chapter Eighteen
Abby dashed across the street, dodging wagons and horses as she headed toward the telegraph office. Her father hadn’t been seen in days, which meant his men still languished in the jail with two men from the Pelletier ranch watching them. Word traveled fast in a small community and she knew he would’ve ridden to town right away if he’d heard his men were behind bars.
“Good afternoon, Abigail.”
“Hello, Mr. Griggs.”
Bernie Griggs checked his pocket watch. “Bank must be closed for lunch. What can I do for you?”
“I wondered if you’d seen or heard from my father or his foreman since the posse rode out of town.”
He scratched the stubble on his chin, shaking his head. “No, can’t say that I have. Last time I saw him was the day of the bank robbery. Why?”
She bit her lower lip, knowing something was wrong. “It’s odd he hasn’t sent someone to get his men out of jail. It’s been days and nobody from the ranch has come into town.”
“I agree. It is unusual. Most weeks, someone from your ranch rides in for supplies, mail, or to send a telegram for your father. Can’t remember the last time this amount of time went by without one of his men stopping in. Have you sent someone to the ranch to fetch him?”
“There’s no one to send, and with my job, I’m not able to ride out until dark. I’m sure he’s fine. It’s just that…” Her voice faltered as she considered her words. She didn’t believe all was well or someone from the ranch would’ve been spotted in town.
“Why don’t you check with the Pelletier men who are watching the prisoners? They may have heard from your father.”
“Thank you, Mr. Griggs. I believe I will.”
A man leaned against a wall inside the jail, talking to the men behind bars. Abby heard a burst of laughter as she closed the door.
“Good day, Miss Tolbert.” Travis Dixon said as she stepped closer.
“Oh, hello, Mr. Dixon. I didn’t recognize you.”
“Most people don’t since I shaved off my mustache.” He stroked the area above his upper lip. “If you came here to see Sheriff Evans, he’s off with the posse.”
“Yes, I know. Noah is with them.” She could feel warmth creep up her face at the way she spoke of him with such familiarity. “I came to ask if anyone from my father’s ranch has come to fetch the men.” She nodded toward the cells.
“No one. Either Rude or I have been here the entire time,” he said, referring to another of the Pelletier men. “You do know your father took a group of his men and rode after the rustlers before the posse took off, right?”
Her eyes snapped to his. “No, I did not.” Worry gnawed at her, knotting her insides as she thought of the implications of her father going after Drake. Both men were arrogant, believing they were above the law. Except, as far as she knew, her father had never actually broken the la
w as they suspected of Drake.
Travis could see fear glittering in her eyes and tension lining her face.
“Your father has lived out here a long time and knows the dangers. I’m sure he’ll be all right.”
Abby twisted her hands in front of her, knowing anything could happen when men searched for rustlers and bandits. Worry surrounded her each day since Noah had left with the others. She’d pushed it aside as best she could, believing in his skills and his ability to stay calm under dangerous conditions. She had to trust he’d come back to her alive.
Her father, though, was a different type of man. Smart and arrogant, he often let his pride control his decisions. More than once, she’d seen him almost come to harm when he let his sense of superiority rule over good judgment.
“I’m certain you’re right, Mr. Dixon. Thank you for letting me know.”
“Good day, Miss Tolbert. I’ll let you know if we hear from your father.”
Her steps back to the bank were labored and slow as fear wrapped around her. As much as she didn’t want to live with her father at the ranch, she didn’t want harm to befall him.
“Did you find out anything, Abby?” Sally saw her shoulders slump as she slipped off her wrap.
“Travis Dixon said he took a group of men and rode after the rustlers a couple days before the posse left. That’s why no one has seen him.”
Sally stood, putting an arm around Abby’s shoulders. “So now you have two men to welcome back when they return with that scoundrel who robbed us.”
Abby couldn’t help the amusement flickering in her eyes or the way her mouth tilted upward. “You’re right, Mrs. Phelps. I should be planning a special welcome.”
“That’s the way. It’s time to reopen the bank. You ready?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You believe I’m wrong?” Tolbert glared at Dirk.
“Yes, sir, I do. Seems best to head back to your ranch and set up guards. They’re after the cattle you keep in the small pasture. Why risk the men if we know Drake’s plans and can stop him?”
Sunrise Ridge (Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Book 3) Page 16
