Gunsmoke and Gingham
Page 35
Hannah’s stomach churned. The truth was, she was worried about him.
For the first time in her life, she understood how her mother had felt every time her father left the house.
Never before had Hannah felt this overwhelming fear. It filled every cell of her body.
She’d become her mother.
An unladylike word slipped past her lips.
Florence’s brows arched and a tiny smile quirked her lips, but she said nothing, just patted Hannah’s hand. “When you’re ready to talk about it, I’m ready to listen.”
Hannah gave her sister a small smile. “I know.”
The sound of hoofbeats outside made Hannah’s heart skitter behind her ribs.
“That must be Archie,” Florence said.
Hannah’s heart sank. She’d forgotten Archie had gone into town that morning.
“I hope he remembered to get flour,” Florence added. “He didn’t write it down and you know how forgetful he is.”
Hannah tried to smile. “I do,” she said, snapping the ends off another bean and tossing it into the bowl.
Florence grinned. “Hmm … even if Archie did remember to buy everything I asked him to, I think we both could use some time away from the ranch. Why don’t we to into town ourselves tomorrow?”
Hannah looked up at her sister. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”
The door opened, and a shaft of light beamed across the plank floor.
Hannah looked up, expecting to see her brother-in-law come inside.
Her heart skipped a beat. Kirby stood inside the doorway, looking more handsome than ever.
Chapter 7
He was alive!
For the first time in a week, Hannah felt as if she could take a deep breath.
It took every ounce of willpower Hannah had not to bound out of the chair and run into his arms.
She studied him, the way his dark hair tumbled onto his forehead when he took his hat off, his broad chest that had offered her warmth and safety when she’d snuggled up against it more than once, his narrow hips and long legs.
He smiled at her and took a step toward her, then noticed Florence standing at the stove. He stopped.
“Welcome back, Kirby,” Hannah heard Florence say. “Please come in and sit down.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Kirby replied.
His gaze met Hannah’s. “It’s nice to see you again, Hannah.”
“I’m going to check on the children,” Florence put in. Her dress swished against the floor as she hurried from the room.
Kirby crossed to where Hannah was sitting and leaned over as if he intended to kiss her.
She jerked out of his way, the chair scraping across the floor.
He straightened.
While fear for his safety had consumed her only a few minutes before, now anger surged through her. She bounded out of the chair and stepped away from him. She stiffened. “Where have you been? Did the trial take all this time?”
He shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I’ve been at my brother’s ranch since it ended.”
“I see.” Hannah tried to rein in her temper. It usually took a great deal to make her angry, but right then, she was furious. She’d spent days terrified that he’d been injured – or worse – and he’d been visiting his brother. “Did it not occur to you that I might be concerned?”
“It did,” he said quietly. “I had no way to reach you to tell you I’d be delayed. Is Archie here?”
“No, he isn’t.” She dug her hands into the pockets in her apron. Why was he so concerned about Archie’s whereabouts? “Why are you changing the subject?” She heard the words come out of her mouth and realized how childish and petty she’d sounded. Heavens, what is he doing to me?
“Where’s Archie?” he insisted. “It’s important.”
“So you aren’t here to call on me after all.”
“You’re wrong. I’m definitely here to call on you, but first, I need to talk to Archie.” He smiled, but it did nothing to appease her.
“He went to town,” she said. “I’m not sure when—”
The creak of wagon wheels in the yard caught her attention. “I expect that’s him now.”
Florence came back into the room and hurried to the door to open it. “Good,” she said with a smile, “it’s Archie. Now we can have lunch. Hannah, would you mind setting the table?”
“How did the trial go, Kirby?” Archie asked while they were having their coffee after lunch.
The children had already eaten, Josie had been put down for a nap and Tommy was out of earshot, playing with a toy train on the floor in the main room.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you all about,” Kirby replied. He was sorry he had to tell them about Abel Cooper’s threat, and the real possibility that Owen was planning to avenge Jubel’s death at Kirby’s hands. The guilt weighed heavily on his mind.
If he’d waited to leave Cedar Valley that day … if he hadn’t tried to seek shelter from the storm … neither his brother’s family nor Hannah and her family would be in danger now.
But if he’d waited, or hadn’t come across the Circle J, Hannah might not be alive today.
He rested his arms on the table and gazed at the dark liquid in his cup, trying to come up with the easiest way to tell them their lives were in danger. “You know about what happened the night Hannah and I spent in the cave.”
Color flooded Hannah’s cheeks and her eyes widened in horror. Florence choked on a mouthful of coffee. Sputtering, she bounded up and rushed to fetch a towel.
Damn! Kirby thought. She hadn’t told them.
A frown appeared between Archie’s brows. “No, we don’t know what happened,” he said in a clipped voice. His gaze slid from Kirby to Hannah and back again. ”Care to enlighten us?”
“Nothing happened,” Hannah cried. “Not what you’re thinking anyway.”
Florence came back to the table, flapping her hand in front of her face to cool herself. “Well, that’s good to hear,” she said.
Hannah noticed that the words came on a sigh.
“Then what did happen?” Archie asked.
Kirby noticed Hannah had clasped her hands in her lap and avoided his gaze while he explained how they’d ended up spending the night in the cave, and the attempt on his life.
“Are you sure it was Abel Cooper’s brother?” Archie asked.
“I’d bet my badge on it,” Kirby replied. “Especially after Abel was found guilty and he threatened my brother’s family and Hannah.”
“So far, there hasn’t been any sign of him at my brother’s ranch,” he said, then turned his attention to Hannah. “That’s why I didn’t come immediately after the trial. I waited there for a few days. Shane assured me he and his men could handle any trouble that came, and sent me on my way here.”
Archie got up. He raked a hand through his hair and scrubbed at his chin. “You say you wounded him?”
Kirby nodded. “I found what looked like blood around where I think he was hiding when he fired at me so I’m guessing I did. No idea how bad it was, but maybe it was enough.” He didn’t bother adding that he hoped it was enough to keep him away for good.
“Thanks for warning us,” Archie said. “I’ll set up some extra guards around the house. Don’t worry. Me and the boys will keep an eye out. We’ll keep Hannah safe.”
“I know you will.” Kirby got up and came around the table. “Hannah? Can I talk to you?”
She looked up at him, then turned to Florence. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to help with the dishes.” She got up and followed him through the house.
Hannah squinted into the bright sunlight as she stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind them.
Her emotions whirled inside her. She couldn’t tell where one ended and another began. She was still furious with herself that she’d spent so much time and energy worrying about him. She was afraid. Archie would do his best to protect them all. She knew that. But what if he fail
ed? Would Owen Cooper kill them to get to her?
She couldn’t live with that kind of guilt.
While Kirby was explaining the situation to Archie and Florence, a plan was forming in Hannah’s mind. There was only one way to keep them safe. She’d have to leave the Circle J.
“Are you all right?” Kirby asked.
She shook her head, unable to put her emotions into words. She’d have to leave her home, her family. She could go to Silver City, start a new life there. Mrs. Grover had practically assured her that she’d be able to earn a living there.
Kirby grinned, that disarming smile of his almost making her forget her resolve.
“I can see the wheels turning in there,” he teased. “What’s going on in that pretty mind of yours?”
She probably should tell Florence and Archie first, but there was no reason not to tell Kirby. “I’m leaving the Circle J,” she said. “I’m going to live in Silver City.”
“Denver? Why?”
“I can’t stay here, knowing I might be putting Florence and Archie and the children in danger.”
“I’m going to find Owen Cooper. He won’t hurt you or your family.”
Kirby closed the gap between them, and as he reached for her, she stepped away. “Please don’t, Kirby.”
He dropped his arms by his sides. “What is it, Hannah? Are you still angry with me?”
“No,” she replied quietly. “I understand now why you didn’t come right after the trial.”
“That’s good.” He peered at her for a few moments as if he were trying to see into her soul. “So what’s wrong then? Why won’t you let me kiss you?”
“Because there’s no future for us,” she said softly. “It’ll only make it harder to say goodbye.”
He took her hand, burying it between both his. “There can be a future if you want there to be.”
If only it was that simple.
She’d fallen in love with him. She barely knew him, but there was no question in her mind about it. She loved him more than she’d ever thought it was possible to love another person.
But she’d spent days filled with anguish and fear, her worry so intense it was a physical pain.
How could she make him understand that she couldn’t live her life that way, waiting for him to come back from trailing one outlaw or another? Or even worse, waiting for someone to knock at the door and tell her he’d been gunned down? “No, there can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because …” she began. “My father was a lawman, just like you. I grew up watching what that did to my mother, seeing the worry and fear in her eyes every second of every day he was away from the house. I listened to her crying herself to sleep at night, terrified he wouldn’t come home. And then, one day, her nightmare came true. He’d been trailing some outlaw or another in the mountains and he was killed.”
Kirby took her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“I was devastated,” she went on. “Eventually it stopped hurting so much and I could think of him with a smile instead of tears. I thought my mother would be the same, that once she got past her initial grief, she could be happy again since she wouldn’t have to worry anymore.” She let out a laugh. “That shows how much I knew about love. She never recovered from losing him. No matter what I, or Florence, or her friends did to try to help her, nothing worked. She lost interest in living. I tried to take care of her, but she didn’t want to live without him. She gave up.”
“She’s gone now?” he asked.
Hannah nodded. “She died a few months after my father was killed.”
“That’s when you came to live with Florence and Archie?”
“I’m sure they felt sorry for me. The house we lived in had been provided by the town so I would have been homeless if I hadn’t come here to live. I’ll be forever grateful to them for taking me in. That’s why I try to repay them and help out financially when I can.”
Other than a few sparrows chirping in the trees, silence fell between them. He moved away from her, leaned a hip against one of the porch railings. He cleared his throat, and then straightened. He strode to the other end of the porch, staring out at the pastures surrounding the house.
Hannah wished she knew what was going through his mind? Then he turned back to face Hannah. “You don’t have to live in Silver City.”
“Mrs. Grover—” she began.
“You can live with me,” he said. His voice had an urgency to it she’d never heard before. “I know we don’t know each other that well,” he began, “but I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you. I want to marry you. I’ll do it today if you want, or next week, or next month, whenever you’re ready.”
Hannah’s eyes filled with tears, spilling over and trickling down her cheeks. “I’m pretty sure I love you, too.”
He grinned, his eyes lighting up as if she’d offered him the world.
“But the answer is no.”
The smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. “What? Why not?” he asked, a disbelieving tone in his voice.
“Don’t you see?” she began. “I won’t be like my mother. I won’t spend my life worrying, waiting for that same knock at the door. Afraid.”
“You think a doctor can’t die, or a blacksmith, or a store clerk—?”
Her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned. “Don’t ridicule me. Of course I know anyone can die, but the chances are much higher when you spend your time tracking down men who have no qualms about killing.”
“Doesn’t it matter to you that I love you and you love me?”
“Of course, but …” She could barely speak past the lump in her throat and the ache in her chest. “I think it’s best if you leave now.”
He held his arms out to her, but she moved out of his reach. She had to be strong. It was better this way.
“Goodbye, Kirby,” she said through her tears. “Please take care of yourself.”
Taking a deep breath, she walked away from him and went into the house, collapsing against the door and letting her tears fall freely down her cheeks.
“Where’s Kirby?”
Florence appeared in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She stopped for a moment and peered at Hannah. “Are you crying?”
Hannah brushed at her tears and sniffled loudly. Raising her head, she met her sister’s concerned look, hoping her tear-stained face and her red eyes wouldn’t give her away. “No.”
“Are you sure? You look a bit disheveled.”
“Positive.” Hannah moved toward the stairs. “I’ll be down in a little while.”
“Where did Kirby go?” her sister asked again. “Is he staying for supper? Overnight?”
Hannah’s heart felt as if it had shredded inside her. All she wanted was to spend some time alone, to reassure herself she’d done the right thing, no matter how much it hurt right now. Yet she couldn’t avoid her sister forever.
“He left,” she said quietly.
“When is he coming back?”
Hannah’s throat constricted. “He isn’t. He’s likely gone after Owen Cooper.”
“But after—”
“He won’t be back.” Hannah couldn’t contain her tears a second longer. Brushing past her sister, she raced up the stairs and into her bedroom. She slammed the door behind her and threw herself onto her bed, letting her tears flow.
“It’s been pretty quiet since you left.” Buck, Kirby’s deputy, got up from the chair behind Kirby’s desk. “Old man Featherstone got all riled up when some kids let his cows out and he had to go chase them down.”
“Did you find out who did it?”
Buck shook his head. “No way to know for sure, but I have a feeling it was those new folks out Bear Creek way.” He crossed the office to the pot-bellied stove in the corner, his spurs jangling with every step.
“That it?” Kirby asked, casually leafing through a pile of papers and wanted posters on the corner of his desk. He’d take a closer look later, once he’d caugh
t up on everything that had happened since he left.
“… and some of the hands from the Lazy L got into a brawl with the hands from the Bar-J, but we got that calmed down quick enough before the bullets started flying.”
“Good. Thanks for taking care of things while I was gone.”
“No problem,” Buck replied. He held up a chipped pottery mug. “Want one?”
Kirby nodded. Buck filled the mug with steaming coffee and brought him the mug, then went back to pour one for himself.
“So how did the trial go?” Buck asked as he came and slouched in a chair facing Kirby’s desk. “Did Cooper get convicted?”
“The jury was out for less than an hour,” he said after he’d finished telling Buck the details of his trip to Denver, omitting any mention of Hannah or her family. “I need you to keep an extra eye out for Owen, though.”
“Owen?”
“I’m almost positive it was Owen who shot at me, and Abel swore Owen was going to kill me, my brother and … I think I wounded him that night, so that might be why he hasn’t come after me yet. If I’m lucky, he’s already dead. If not, I’m going after him. I need you to keep things under control here.”
“Sure thing, Kirby,” Buck said. “You don’t have to worry about anything here.”
“Good. I’ll head out first thing in the morning.” Kirby picked up his hat and planted it on his head. Then he opened the office door. “Right now, I’m going to take a walk around town. I’ll meet you over at the café in a half hour for supper.”
Chapter 8
Hannah sat on the porch, her drawing pad in her lap. She stared down at the blank paper and at the pastel in her fingers.
What was wrong with her? She’d never been unable to draw, never felt this complete lack of desire to make images on paper or canvas.
Art was part of her soul, of her very being. It had been as far back as she could remember. Without it, who was she?
The door opened and she looked up. Florence stood in the entrance, a tray holding a plate of cookies and a glass of milk in her hand. “Cookies and milk might make you feel better.”