Quinn's Honor

by Shirleen Davies

  “I’ll let you know when.”

  “You be sure and do that, Quinn. Hope you find Boyd.”

  “Would you mind sending someone to the jail to let Brodie know what you told us?”

  “I’ll do better than that, Sam. I’ll go myself.”

  “Thanks, Stein.” Sam scanned the horizon as they mounted their horses, glancing at Quinn. “He said Boyd rode out toward your new property. Is there any place someone could hide out in that direction?”

  “You pass right by the Pearce ranch. He has at least one secluded old shack on the property. The old Estrada place has a couple areas. Hell, Sam. There are all kinds of places a man could hide out that way.”

  “I suppose the best we can do is get started and hope to find some tracks we can follow.”

  “You’re sure you want to do that, Big Jim? Sell the ranch and move to town?” Brodie sat there, stunned at the news. He had no idea the Pearces were in trouble, and wondered if his father knew. “Have you talked to Da? I’m sure he and Uncle Ian will be glad to help.”

  Big Jim shook his head. “Nope. And I don’t plan to. When I told Emma, Quinn, and Blaine, they said the same. I appreciate it, but it’s my problem and I’ll work it out in my own way.”

  “Aye, I understand. Have you spoken to anyone else?”

  “Some fella came to me a few months ago when I was still laid up. He asked about buying it. I told him no. Then he came back a few weeks ago and gave me a price lower than I expected. This time, I told him I’d think on it. With the loss of so many head of cattle, I didn’t leave Sacramento with as much as I needed. I’ve got no choice, Brodie.”

  “Aye, you do. Talk to Da and Uncle Ian. If you won’t take a loan, talk to them about buying. You know they’ll give you a fair price, probably letting you stay in the house as long as you want.”

  Big Jim tilted his head a little, his jaw working, mulling over what Brodie said. “I just might do that. First, I’m going to talk to the man who made the offer. Right now, all I want is what’s best for Gertie, and that woman sure would like to stay in the house.”

  “My ma would feel the same.”

  Big Jim nodded. “I’d better get moving. I told the man I’d leave a message for him at the Gold Dust. For all I know, he’s given up and gone back to Frisco.”

  Brodie’s eyes flickered at the last bit of information. “San Francisco?”

  “That’s what he said. Why?”

  “You know Widow Jones and those two ranchers on the other side of the Feather River who sold their places?”

  “Heard about them.”

  “The buyer for all three came here from Frisco.” Brodie rubbed the back of his neck. “What does the man look like?”

  “Short, thin as a fence post, with a face I’m not certain even a mother could love.” Big Jim grimaced. “Has a scar on his right hand—jagged and angry. If it weren’t for the city clothes, I’d think he was a hired gun.”

  “Did he give you a name?”

  “Lyman Ziller. Told me he’s an agent for the company in Frisco.”

  “Do you recall the company name?” Brodie jotted down notes, a bitter ball of suspicion building in his stomach.

  “I don’t recall he gave me the name. I’ll make sure to get it when I meet with him.” Big Jim stood at the same time the door opened.

  “Good morning, Stein. What brings you in here?”

  “Morning, Brodie, Big Jim. Sam asked me to bring you a message.” He relayed the information about Boyd, and that Quinn, Blaine, and Sam were going after him. “It hasn’t been that long. You could probably catch them.”

  “Nate’s over at the clinic with Jack. Let me get him, then I’ll get started.”

  “I’ll do it, Brodie,” Stein offered. “You go ahead and leave. If you ride fast, you should catch up with them in no time.”

  Circle M

  “I don’t understand why Quinn can’t let Brodie take care of dealing with Doggett.” Emma stopped grooming Moonshine to look at Jinny. “Your brother has three deputies to help him. Why would he need Quinn and Blaine?”

  At the mention of Brodie’s deputies, Jinny thought of Sam, wondering what she’d done to push him away. She’d been certain he felt the attraction between them, sending her the same secret looks she sent him. Whenever their eyes met, her body responded without thought, heart hammering at an almost painful pace.

  “I don’t know, Emma. It may be Quinn wants to be there when they find the person responsible for your injuries. He’s protective of what’s his, the same as all the MacLaren men.” Jinny found herself wishing Sam felt the same about her. “If you’re worried, don’t be. Quinn knows how to protect himself, and he’ll be with Brodie and Blaine, and probably Sam and Nate. They’ll take care of each other.”

  Emma heard the disappointment in Jinny’s voice, saw the dejected way her body moved, knowing it had nothing to do with Quinn. Tossing down the brush, she leaned against the stall.

  “Geneen hasn’t heard from Nate in months.”

  “I know. She and I have talked about Nate and Sam. Seems we’re both eejits for thinking there was more to those men than we thought.” Straightening her back, Jinny tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Geneen, Sarah’s younger sister, had traveled to Circle M when Colin, Quinn, and Brodie made the journey to Oregon to fetch Sarah. Her skills as a ranch hand matched Emma’s, and she’d become a young woman the MacLarens could rely on. Like Jinny, she’d fallen hard for one of Brodie’s deputies.

  “I suppose it’s time for me to give up my fantasy of a life with Sam and face the real world. He’s not the only man out there.” A pained smile crossed her face. “Too bad he’s the only one I want.”

  Emma lowered herself to the ground, crossed her legs, then picked up a piece of straw. Twisting it between her fingers, she rested her head against the stall.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t know how much Sam meant to you. You’ve listened to me for hours going on and on about Quinn, yet you’ve never spoken of Sam.”

  Jinny settled herself next to Emma, grabbing her own piece of straw. “Your feelings for Quinn have been strong for years. You’ve always known how you felt, having the patience to wait for him to admit he loved you. Anyone who knows the two of you felt it was meant to be. Sam and I are different.” A hint of frustration crossed her face. “I’ve known him for less than a year, and seen him a handful of times. Always with family around and Brodie nearby.”

  “Your brother being his boss may be one reason he hasn’t made his feelings known.”

  Jinny snorted. “Nae. Sam is the type of man who’ll go after what he wants, not worrying about what Brodie thought. He isn’t interested in me, the same as Nate isn’t interested in Geneen. I once heard Camden say women were a diversion, a way for a man to spend his time without thinking of work or the dangers of what he did. I think it must be the same with lawmen. Their work is demanding. Women like Geneen and I are a way to get their minds off it—nothing more.”

  Emma glanced at her friend, resting a hand on her arm. “I don’t believe that, and I don’t think you do either. I’ve seen how Sam looks at you, and how Nate looks at Geneen. Both are still in Conviction, working for Brodie. Don’t give up, Jinny.” Emma gently shoved her shoulder. “Isn’t that what you kept telling me, year after year, when Quinn ignored me?” When Jinny didn’t respond, Emma squeezed her arm. “Well, isn’t it?”

  Jinny laughed, although it wasn’t the robust, spontaneous sound Emma associated with her friend. “Aye, I suppose it is.”

  Pushing herself up, Emma held out a hand to Jinny. “All we have to do now is figure a way to get Sam to take action, and I think I have the perfect idea.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “It took you long enough to get here.” Giles Delacroix took measured steps toward Doggett, unmistakable displeasure on his face. “You should have been here long ago.”

  Doggett glanced around the inside of the ramshackle cabin. He’d grown to hate the man stalking towar
d him. He didn’t like being ordered around, treated as if he were a fool, and shown little respect. Growing up, he had his fill of it. As the youngest son, with several cousins living in the same house, he wore the most tattered clothes, was given the worst jobs, and always scraped food from what was left in the serving dishes.

  “I got held up.” Doggett didn’t elaborate. He didn’t feel the need. “The job’s done. The men have been paid, and now I want what you owe me.”

  “I already heard,” Giles hissed. “Pearce left a message for Lyman that he wants to talk. I should have heard it from you.”

  Doggett crossed his arms, stopping himself from reaching out to grab Delacroix around the throat. “Give me my money and I’ll be gone.”

  Lowering his bulky frame into a chair more suited for a woman of slight build, he reached into a pocket in his jacket, pulling out a pouch. Tossing it to Doggett, he sat back, a satisfied smirk on his face.

  Opening the pouch, Doggett poured coins into his palm. “This isn’t what we agreed to. Where’s the rest?”

  “Quite the contrary. As with the other ranches, the agreement was full payment when the property changed hands. I’ve given you half. The rest will come after Pearce signs over his property.”

  Doggett cursed, shoving the coins in his pocket. “And if he doesn’t sell?” He took a menacing step forward. “I’ve done what we agreed and I expect payment whether he sells or not.”

  “My good man, if Pearce doesn’t sell, then your efforts have been for naught. Be happy with what I’ve offered.” He pushed himself up. “I wouldn’t worry too much. Pearce contacted us, which means he’s out of options. The ranch is as good as in my hands already.”

  Doggett fumed, although he kept his expression neutral. “If you try to cheat me out of the rest, you’re as good as dead.”

  “I have no intention of cheating you. The rest will be ready as soon as Pearce signs. I’ll contact you the usual way—unless you have plans to leave town.”

  He did, but he wouldn’t admit it to Delacroix. Showing his face in Conviction wasn’t a good idea. Neither was riding away, leaving half his money with the man standing a few feet away. He’d have to find a place to hide until Pearce signed the papers.

  “I have no plans, other than to get the rest of the money. Afterward…” Doggett shrugged.

  “Lyman meets with Pearce tomorrow. With luck, the ranch will be in my possession within days.”

  Doggett wished he didn’t need the money. What he wanted to do was end this with Delacroix, leave his body for the animals, and ride south. The man reminded him of the vultures in Texas who took advantage of ranchers at their weakest moment, stripping them of what they’d worked their entire lives to build. He wasn’t proud of taking the job, but the money was too much to pass up.

  Without another word, Doggett turned his back on Delacroix and stepped outside. He needed to clear his head and rid himself of the anger he felt at the man’s deception. Sucking in a breath of fresh air, he grabbed the reins of his horse. Putting distance between himself and the man inside might be the only way for Delacroix to stay alive.

  “He was here.” Sam walked around the outside of the empty cabin, seeing signs of more than one horse. “And he wasn’t alone.”

  Following Doggett hadn’t been as hard as expected. Stein told him of the slight imperfection in one horseshoe and the uneven gate when the horse moved.

  “He must have met the man we’re after.” Quinn took the steps up and into the cabin, grimacing at the filth. “It’s sure no one has stayed here. The place isn’t even fit for the men we’re tracking.”

  Blaine glanced over Quinn’s shoulder, then moved deeper into the cabin. “Sam, come look at this.”

  Brodie followed Sam inside, his hand resting on the butt of his gun. Taking a quick look around, he retreated to keep watch outside.

  “What do you see, Blaine?” Sam knelt beside him.

  “I think there are more than two pairs of boots.”

  Sam studied the imprints in the dirt-covered floor, then stood and looked around. “You may be right. I can see three different prints.” A muscle in his jaw twitched, his gaze darting around the small space. “Let’s take a look outside.” It didn’t take long to find what he expected in the soft ground. “Two of the men are about my weight. I’m guessing one is Doggett. The third man is much heavier.” Sam pointed at the impression. “See how they sink into the ground and are wider than the others?”

  “Sam, come over here.” Brodie stood at the start of a narrow trail, studying the tracks at his feet.

  “Two of them rode out this direction. North and east, toward your new property, Brodie.” Sam looked behind him, turning in a circle, a slow smile spreading across his face. Walking to the other side of the clearing, he searched the ground, his eyes widening when he spotted what he wanted. “The bigger man rode out this direction. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s another trail back to Conviction.”

  Quinn stepped next to him. “What are you thinking, Sam?”

  “We could split up. Brodie and Blaine follow the trail to town. Quinn and I follow the other two.” Removing his hat, he ran a hand through his hair. “If it were my decision, we’d all go after the two. I’d bet my life this is the trail Doggett took.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do.” Brodie looked at his cousins. “You heard Sam. Let’s get moving.”

  Nate sat at a table next to the dirt-encrusted front window of Hong Wo’s restaurant, trying to keep his focus. He’d finished evening rounds of the docks and Chinatown, doing his best to ignore the pain in his arm, the almost crippling need to seek relief.

  Two days of feeling a hand that didn’t exist, instead seeing the mangled stump of his left arm. The doctor he’d seen in Sacramento told Nate it was a phantom limb—the sensation of an arm or leg no longer there. In his case, amputated after a victorious encounter with Confederate troops.

  The victory had been meaningless to him, more so each time his gaze locked on his missing arm. He woke up in a cold sweat several times every night, images better left forgotten crowding his mind, fighting for space. Whiskey had long ago lost its effectiveness, as had laudanum, the drug he blamed for his current plight.

  Taking a small bite of the food Wo had set before him, he forced it down, knowing he needed the nourishment, but tasting nothing. Other than the texture, he’d been unable to distinguish between a well-cooked steak and a stale slice of bread for months.

  Nate thought of Christmas supper at the MacLarens, Geneen MacGregor’s emerald green eyes watching him the entire evening. She’d asked what he thought of the goose Colin’s mother had prepared. He’d told her it was the best he’d ever eaten. In truth, he hadn’t been able to taste it at all—nor the pie Geneen had made. It hadn’t mattered. He would’ve told her anything to keep the smile on her face. The smile gave him hope he could someday move beyond the man he’d become and be worthy enough to court her. He choked on the memory, raising his eyes when Wo walked up.

  “You no like?” Wo nodded at the almost full bowl, the smile slipping from his face.

  “It’s fine, Wo.” Nate glanced out the window, hoping the man didn’t say anything more or offer an alternative. The sun had begun to fade over the western hills, casting a reddish glow over the town.

  His brows drew together when he spotted a man he’d seen more than once in Conviction, his fine clothes covered in dirt, hat askew, eyes darting around and then lowering, as if he didn’t want to be recognized. His size and girth dwarfed the horse under him, its legs caked in dried mud.

  Curiosity overtook him as the man reined the horse to a stop across the street and walked into a neighboring restaurant. In the weeks since he’d noticed the man in Conviction, he’d never seen him anywhere near Chinatown. A few minutes later, the man walked out, looked around, then slid several leather pouches into his saddlebags. Mounting, he looked around again before moving down the street.

  “You come in back with me. I have somethin
g you will like.” Wo hovered over him, the smile Nate always considered sincere now filled with deception.

  On a different day, he might have followed Wo into the kitchen. His body screamed for him to go, not overthink the reasons he shouldn’t. Nate thought of Brodie, Sam, and Jack, the men he worked with and called friends. And Geneen, a woman he wanted to see again, get to know better.

  As he started to stand, an intense pain ripped through his arm, then down his left side. Thinking he’d pass out, his face contorted as he grabbed his left arm with his right hand and squeezed. Sucking in a deep breath, he shut his eyes tight, expelling air through his mouth, beads of sweat covering his forehead.

  Wo bent next to Nate’s ear. “You come with me now.”

  Ignoring the nausea, he shook his head. “No.”

  “It best you come now.” Wo kept a firm smile on his face.

  Pain gripped him again, a light-headed feeling causing him to rock in his chair.

  “I help you.” Wo helped Nate stand. Taking slow steps toward the kitchen, the restaurant owner nodded at those he passed, his smile never wavering.

  Nate knew he should shrug off Wo’s help, somehow get himself outside and go straight to his hotel room—or Doc Vickery’s clinic. But pain ruled his mind. Stepping through the curtains, he took one more glance behind him, seeing the questioning gazes of those trying not to look.

  A stronger man could’ve dealt with this, handled the pain, not crumbled under the weight of the agony. Nate wasn’t that man. Not today…maybe not ever.

  Feeling someone on his other side, he let the person usher him behind the kitchen and into a small room, curtained off in sections. Within minutes, the cycle would start again, along with his self-loathing.

  Circle M

  “Oh, good. I’m glad I found you here.” Kyla walked into the barn, watching as Emma finished measuring the young colt.

  Quinn hadn’t returned to the ranch the night before. Emma knew why he felt he had to help Brodie find the person responsible for stampeding the herd. Still, she’d rather have him at the ranch or with Cam and Caleb at the new place.