by Janet Dean
“I’ve got a big job I might be unable to manage alone,” Carly said. “Since we have no idea when the circuit judge will arrive, I suggest we set aside our differences and do the practical thing. I need help. You want to learn how to run a shop. Would you be willing to work here?”
Mr. Sergeant choked out a laugh. “You want my sister to work for you.”
“With me.” Carly folded her arms across her middle. “Proof, Mr. Sergeant, I’m not as awful as you insinuate. Working in the shop will benefit us both.” Carly arched a brow. “Maybe once your sister gets a firsthand look at running a business, she’ll change her mind about wanting that pressure.”
“Don’t think that you can—”
“I can speak for myself, Nathanial.” Anna turned to Carly. “I’d love the opportunity. Thank you.”
For the first time since Nate Sergeant had walked in her door, Carly smiled. Truly smiled. If not for the obstacles between them, she could imagine forging a friendship with Anna. “Shall we discuss the particulars inside, Mrs. Hankins?”
“Anna, please.”
“Call me Carly.”
“I’d like that.”
His fierce expression an indication of his disapproval, the bounty hunter helped Anna down. She took his arm and leaned on him as they walked toward the entrance.
With each step, Anna dipped and rose like a small sailboat on a stormy sea. Carly’s heart tumbled. Anna Hankins was handicapped. Was each step as painful as it appeared?
Max had ended Anna’s husband’s life. Now she must fend for herself. Well, not entirely, not with that gun-toting brother at her side. Still, Anna’s disability must complicate her life.
Did her lameness explain her brother’s resolve to take the shop? Carly resisted the temptation to respect this man; a brother fighting for his sister’s well-being. No, he was a bounty hunter, a violent man who didn’t deserve admiration. But also a man with regrets. Something she understood all too well.
Inside the shop, Anna moved around, soaking up every detail, oohing and aahing as she examined cases of fabric and trimmings.
She turned to Carly. “Your shop’s beautiful, prettier than I’d imagined.”
“Thank you. Would you like to see a finished gown?”
“Oh, yes!”
Carly opened the armoire and motioned to the dress hanging on a hook. “It’s just waiting for the bride to come in for the final fitting.”
“What a sweet neckline,” Anna said. “I used batiste to make my wedding gown. A cool fabric for a summer wedding.”
As Anna moved on to examine the case of gloves, out of earshot, Nate leaned in. “I understand you’re trying to protect your son. But I hope you don’t use this job as an opportunity to talk my sister into giving up the deed.”
Heat flooded Carly’s cheeks. “I merely offered her a job,” she said. “The judge will decide the rest.”
“I’ll be close by until the judge rules.”
As close as now? Two feet away? Close enough to catch his fresh manly scent. To stare into those gray, deep-set eyes. To touch that chiseled jaw and those powerful shoulders.
Everything about the man shouted danger. He’d killed Max, spent his life tracking outlaws, and now threatened her way of life. So why did she feel this strange sense of safety in his presence? As if he would allow nothing or no one to hurt her.
Had Nate Sergeant been telling the truth when the man had told Henry that he would help her?
She bit back a snort. The man would stop at nothing to see that his sister owned the shop.
Eyes sweeping every nook and cranny, a dreamy smile on her face, Anna inched toward them with hitching steps.
The bounty hunter’s gaze softened. “Now you’ve met Anna and can see her options are limited. My sister is a good-hearted soul and doesn’t want to benefit from your misfortune. It would be tempting to take advantage of her sweet nature,” he said, lowering his voice.
Carly’s gaze skittered away from those probing, suspicious eyes. The bounty hunter didn’t trust her. Had he somehow read her mind? Suspected she wanted information, even a bond with his sister in the hope Anna would hesitate to claim the shop?
Well, she wouldn’t badger Anna, but she had to find a way to protect her son.
“Anna, are you ready? I want to get settled in.”
“Yes, I’m eager to see the cabin.” She turned to Carly. “Thank you for giving me the job. I’ll be here first thing Monday morning, before the store opens.”
“If you’re not too tired tomorrow, I’d like to invite you to First Christian Church. Services start at nine o’clock.”
“Thank you.” Anna’s gaze darted to her brother. “I’ll be there.”
At the door the bounty hunter stepped aside, letting his sister precede him, then turned to Carly. “I’ll be back.” He flashed a smile. “Don’t let the anticipation overwhelm you.”
That towering hulk of a man threatened the harmony Carly prized. Yet as she stared into those eyes, an unwelcome thrill of attraction slid through her, shooting heat up her neck and into her cheeks. She groped for a rebuke that would conceal the turmoil churning inside her. “One thing I can say for certain, Mr. Sergeant. Nothing about you overwhelms me.”
He arched a brow and had the audacity to wink. As if he had read her mind and found her claim amusing.
Carly shut the door behind him, leaned against it and took a deep breath. No matter what she’d said, Carly had never felt more overwhelmed. And of all things, by a bounty hunter.
A handsome bounty hunter, her heart whispered.
She pulled away from the door and steeled her spine. A handsome, strong-minded bounty hunter who would stop at nothing to see that his sister owned this shop.
Chapter Five
The yellow mutt Nate had seen yesterday sprang from where she’d been napping on the cabin’s front stoop, as if she somehow knew where to find her next meal.
“Oh, is the dog yours, Mr. Mood?” Anna said, running a gentle hand along the dog’s ruff.
The stray leaned into her. If Nate didn’t know better, he’d say the dog was smiling.
“Well, she’s been hanging out at the livery, but from the looks of it, she’d like to be yours.”
Nate frowned. “A dog underfoot could trip you, Anna.”
Ignoring the warning, Anna lowered herself to the step and gazed into the dog’s eyes. “Do you want to live with Nate and me, girl?” The wagging tail and short yip put a wide grin on Anna’s face. “Do you know her name, Mr. Mood?”
“Nope. Been calling her ‘dog.’”
“She needs a proper name.” Anna ran her fingers through the dog’s thick fur. “Her coat’s the color of corn, of maize. I’ll call her Maizie.”
“Well, now, that’s a purty name. I’ll leave you and Maizie to get settled,” Mr. Mood said, grinning from ear to ear. “The Good Lord is working it all out, like only He can do.”
Mood had also seen Nate’s construction skill as God-sent. Now he was suggesting God had brought this pooch to their door. As if every little thing fit into a master plan.
Nate’s hands fisted. If the liveryman believed God was sovereign over every aspect of their lives, how would Mood explain Anna’s handicap and Rachel’s murder? Two women who’d never done a cruel thing in their lives.
Nothing in his life made sense except finding Stogsdill.
As soon as he got Anna settled in, Nate would make some inquiries. See what he could learn about Stogsdill’s rumored girlfriend. With the hope she’d lead him to the outlaw.
As Anna preceded Nate into the house, he averted his eyes from the rise and fall of her gait, a constant reminder of what his carelessness had cost his sister.
He owed Anna his life. She’d saved him, a careless ten-year-old boy, from the stomping hooves of runaway horses. And paid a high cost. Saving his life had ruined hers, had limited her choices. Probably the reason she’d married Walt.
Anna turned back and clapped her hands for the stray w
aiting in the doorway. “Maizie, aren’t you coming?”
A wag of her tail and the dog slipped in at Nate’s heels.
“Do you mean to make her a house dog?” Nate asked. “She’ll shed all over everything.”
“She’ll mind her manners and stay on the floor. Nothing I can’t sweep up in a jiffy.”
In the parlor, the afternoon sunshine flooded the room through tall windows on either side of a brick fireplace. The coat of white paint on the walls was in sharp contrast to the floor’s dark wood planks, the cracks wide enough to slip a dime between the boards.
“Isn’t this nice?” Anna gushed as she surveyed the room. “Why, the floors and tables don’t have a trace of dust. Someone’s cleaned the place. My braided rug, Mother’s Currier and Ives prints and one of Grandma’s quilts draped over the sofa will make this place homey.”
“You could make a jail cell cozy.”
Anna cocked her head at him. “Sometimes I wonder if you perceive settling down as a prison sentence.”
“Of course not.” He shifted on his feet. “You know why catching Stogsdill’s important.”
“Could you let it go? Leave his capture to lawmen?” She raised a gaze begging him to reconsider. “We’ve lost them all, Nate. Promise me I won’t have to bury you, too.”
Nate shot her a smile. “Don’t worry, sis. I’m good at what I do.” Still, if Max Richards’s bullet had been accurate, his sister would be alone now, fending for herself. “Once that shop is yours, I’ll have peace knowing that whatever happens, you can make a living.”
“What about Carly Richards? She’s a widow with a child. How can I live with myself if I take the shop away from her?”
“I’m not happy about Mrs. Richards’s plight, but you didn’t take the shop. Max Richards lost it to Walt. Walt paid for it with his life, a high price. The shop will be your future.”
That is, if the circuit judge saw things as Nate did.
Nate trailed Anna to the kitchen. Simple cupboards, large cookstove, small potbellied stove, a table and four chairs. He walked to the window over the sink with a view to the back and the alleyway beyond.
Anna clapped her hands. “Oh, look, Nate, an indoor pump!”
“Good. When I leave, you won’t have to haul water.”
“I thought you were certain I’d be living behind the shop.”
“I am, but if I should have to leave before the ownership is settled—”
“Enough of that talk. Let’s look at the rest of the cabin.”
They moved on to the bedrooms, both small but adequate, each with a double-paned window, brass double bed, built-in clothespress and chest of drawers. Not fancy, but nicer than Nate had expected.
“I’ll take the room next to the kitchen, if that’s all right,” she said.
“Fine by me.”
He walked to the window and gazed at the back of the seamstress shop, the Richards’s living quarters. The widow’s generous attitude toward Anna had surprised him. But then Anna had a way of bringing the best out of people.
“I’ll get your things,” he said, “then help you set this place to rights.”
Within minutes of his hauling trunks, boxes and crates inside, Anna had started building a nest. By the time he’d driven the team to the livery and returned to the cabin, Anna had made up the beds, topping the linens with colorful quilts.
Then set him to nailing bed sheets at the bedroom windows for privacy.
In the parlor, she draped another quilt over the sofa. Satisfied with her efforts thus far, she made a list of the supplies they’d need while he hung two Currier and Ives idyllic prints above it.
They moved on to the kitchen, where they unpacked jars of cherries, applesauce, tomatoes, beans—all canned by Anna—and stowed the Blue Willow dishes from their childhood in a cupboard, as well as all the paraphernalia needed to cook and serve a meal.
Anna shook out a tablecloth and let it float onto the scarred table. “If you can find two rods at the mercantile, I’ll make proper curtains tonight from my stash of fabric,” she said, setting a blue-striped crock in the center.
The errand would give Nate the perfect opening to ask questions. “I’ll head over there now.”
With a soft groan, Anna dropped into a ladder-back chair. The stray dog nudged Anna’s hand and got a perfunctory pat, then curled at Anna’s feet, head propped on her paws.
“You’ve overdone it. Now your hip’s bothering you.”
“I’ll rest a minute and be fine.” She glanced around her. “Once the curtains are made and up, this will look like home.”
He suspected Anna was making a home not only for herself but for him. “Don’t get too attached to the place. You’ll soon be moving behind the seamstress shop.”
“If the judge should rule the shop is mine, I won’t displace Carly and her son. The boy just lost his father. I won’t let him lose the only home he’s probably known.”
“Anna,” he said, trying to make her see reason, “this cabin will sell with the livery. Where will you live then?”
As if he hadn’t spoken, Anna handed him a list, then flapped her hands, shooing him out like a pesky fly. “Please. Get those rods and the items I need.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting her with a grin. “I’m at your service.”
Anna appeared mild-mannered, but she possessed a spine of steel. The reason she’d dealt well with her handicap, her incompetent husband and now his violent death.
“I’ll fix a nice supper. Get whatever looks good from the butcher. I intend to fatten you up.” She leaned down and patted the mutt. “You, too, Maizie.” Tail thumping against the floor, the dog raised her head, tongue lolling.
Anna probably hoped her home cooking would entice Nate to stay, as much as food enticed the stray. He had put on weight with her delicious meals. If he stayed, living a life of ease, he’d get soft. “Be back soon as I can.”
As Nate stepped onto the porch, Mrs. Richards and her son strolled toward him. The widow carried a pot, holding the handles with dishtowels, as if the metal was hot.
In three strides Nate reached her side. “Can I help with that?”
“Thank you, but I’ve got it.”
Henry beamed up at Nate. “You came back.”
“Yes, and brought my sister with me,” Nate said, unable to resist rubbing a palm over Henry’s cowlick. As soon as he removed his hand, the tuft sprang aloft.
Henry gazed up at his mother. “Is that the lady that’s going to help you sew?”
“Yes,” Carly said, her gaze darting to Nate, then away.
It didn’t take a mind reader to see her disquiet about relying on the woman who held the deed to her shop. That order she’d mentioned must be a whopper.
“I thought Anna might appreciate not having to cook.”
“Chicken and noodles,” Henry said.
“My favorite.” Nate inhaled. “Smells delicious.”
“I like chicken and noodles best, too!” Henry all but danced around Nate’s knees. “I could eat with you.”
“It’s not polite to invite yourself,” Carly said, tugging her son close, obviously unwilling for Henry to spend time with a bounty hunter. “Besides, I saved some for us.”
Nate didn’t blame her. He wasn’t someone a boy should look up to, but with Max Richards for a father, Henry had no idea what made a man admirable and might latch on to any man.
As he reached the stoop, Nate opened the door and called to his sister. He couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to sit at the table with Carly and her son. To enjoy a meal and a bit of conversation, assuming they could squeeze a word in between Henry’s little-boy chatter.
Anna appeared in the doorway. “Carly, what a lovely surprise.” She smiled at Henry. “This handsome young man must be Henry.”
“We bringed chicken and noodles for your supper.”
“How thoughtful.” She opened the door. “Please, come in.”
At his mother’s side, Hen
ry turned to Nate. “Are you coming?”
“My sister asked me to run an errand, but I’ll see you around.”
The light in Henry’s eyes dimmed. “Oh, okay. ’Bye,” he said, taking the hand Anna offered and walking inside.
Nate tipped his hat at Mrs. Richards. “Thanks for supper. That was considerate of you.”
Her sapphire eyes held a chill. “Don’t be misled, Mr. Sergeant. If not for you, Anna would not consider taking my shop. That makes you and me adversaries. I’ll do what I must to ensure my son’s future.”
“As I will with my sister’s.”
“We understand each other, then,” she said, closing the door with a click.
Carly Richards might be hospitable to Anna, but she obviously viewed him as the enemy. She somehow knew Anna would forgo ownership of the shop if not for his insistence. And that was why he would stay until the judge ruled.
Nate strode past the livery out to Main Street. Always alert for trouble, his gaze spanned the street and buildings as he turned toward the mercantile.
Most businesses in town looked prosperous and well kept. Ruffled curtains hung on either side of the window of Sarah’s Café. A red-and-white-striped pole heralded the town barbershop. First State Bank, the name hand-lettered in gold across the glass, looked as solid as its stone facade. On down the street Nate spied a grocery and doctor’s office.
Apparently the livery was the only run-down building in town. Gnaw Bone was a nice place for his sister to settle. From what he’d seen, folks here had pride of ownership and weren’t afraid of work.
Nate stepped through the open double doors of Stuffle Emporium, the scents of spices, kerosene, soap and vinegar warring in his nostrils. He zigzagged through a maze of tables piled with stacks of readymade clothing, linens, pots and pans. Along the back wall he found wrought iron rods that would fit the bedroom windows. The curlicues on each end would please Anna. He gathered them up, along with supports and screws. No need to buy a hammer when Anna had Pa’s metal box filled with tools.
