The Bounty Hunter

by Cheryl St. John

  She and Zeke both looked to Bernard.

  He leaned back and scratched his neck. A minute ticked by. “I got a couple acres right behind the Big Nugget,” he said finally. “Nothin’ on ’em but a few trees. Room for corrals even.”

  Lily whooped with excitement, and the three of them shook hands.

  They made plans as they ate, and Lily made them what she’d come to think of as her Buffalo Bill specials after the sheriff’s tag.

  “Damn, Lily, what’dya charge for these? I might have to try makin’ ’em,” Zeke said.

  “I hear you might want to try scrubbing your floors,” Lily told him honestly.

  The man looked at the clean floor of the Shady Lady, then nodded. “Maybe so.”

  EARLY ONE MORNING the following week, Nate stood in front of the mercantile beside Howard and Blythe Shaw, watching a wagon laden with lumber roll past.

  “What in tarnation is goin’ on?” Howard asked, leaning on his broom.

  Shipments had been coming in on the train, and several unfamiliar men were making deliveries and working on a structure behind the Big Nugget. So many wagons had rolled past that a new street was being pressed into the earth beside the saloon.

  “Seems a building permit was taken out,” Nate replied. “Clive Callahan heard it holds a company name. Wynn or some such.”

  The sounds of distant hammering could be heard along Main Street as the building in question was being constructed.

  Everyone in town was curious, but no one seemed to know what in blazes was going on. Late the night before, Nate had studied the framed structure, surprised at its size. It wasn’t built like a house, and an enormous fireplace and chimney had been constructed out of river rock.

  A stove or a small fireplace would do for anything other than a forge, and he’d come to suspect that was exactly what was being built.

  “My guess would be a livery,” he said.

  Blythe stared at him, and Howard’s eyebrows shot up. “Cain’t be,” the man said. “Town this size don’t need more’n one livery.”

  Nate shrugged. “I’m just tellin’ you what it appears to be.”

  “I hear you’re taking Evangeline Gibbs to supper tonight, Sheriff,” Blythe said, changing the subject.

  She wasn’t the first person to mention his plans. News spread faster than an epidemic in this town. He nodded. “Yes’m.”

  George Lynch had told Nate that his son, Joel, who worked as a barber with his father at the bath house, had an interest in one of Evangeline’s friends. It had been the perfect opportunity for Nate to speak with Joel and arrange for them to take the young women to dinner. With the other couple along, they’d be chaperoned, and Nate could show her his house without her parents around.

  “In fact, I’d better go lock up my office and get on over to George’s for a shave.”

  “Have a lovely evening,” Blythe called as he stepped off the boardwalk.

  On his way across the street, he touched the brim of his hat to greet a pair of ladies.

  When he reached the barber shop, Joel Lynch spotted him and nearly tripped over his own feet on his way forward. “Sheriff!”

  Nate studied the eager young man. “Your pa around?”

  “He’s cleanin’ the stove. You want him?”

  Nate hung his hat on the tree with a nod. “No offense, but I have a care for the skin on my face, and you’re lookin’ a mite jittery there.”

  “Pa? Sheriff wants you to shave ’im!”

  A chuckle reached them from the back room. “I’ll wash up and be there momentarily.”

  George shaved Nate with his usual agility. “Joel’s been moonin’ over Tess Prescott for weeks, Sheriff. You done us all a favor by gettin’ the two of ’em together.”

  “Seemed a mutually advantageous arrangement,” Nate replied as George wiped lather from his chin.

  “Should we rent a carriage for the ladies?” Joel asked. “I was wondering about that all morning. What will they expect?”

  “Everywhere we need to go is within a few blocks,” Nate replied. “I’m sure they won’t mind the walk. Seems more trouble going for a carriage and returnin’ it than just usin’ our feet.”

  “Hot bath is on the house tonight,” the barber said.

  “I’ll take you up on that. It’ll be a pleasure not to heat my own water at home.”

  After bathing, Nate hurried to his house to dress in his good trousers and a clean shirt. He met Joel at a pre-arranged corner on Main Street, and the two of them walked to the mayor’s expansive two-story home.

  The maid answered the door and led them to Peyton Gibbs’s den, where he sat in an overstuffed easy chair.

  “Good evening, gentlemen. Come in and have a seat.”

  Joel glanced around the room, taking in the dark wood-paneled walls and the expanse of bookcases. A painting depicting a hunting scene hung over the dormant fireplace.

  “What do you make of the new structure?” the mayor asked.

  Nate shared his theory, and Peyton puffed on the stem of his pipe. Smoke curled around his head. “You’re perceptive. And dead-on. Anything built within a quarter mile of Main Street requires a legal document. Lily Divine secured the building permit, and it indicates a stable is going up.”

  Nate heard the man’s clarification with surprise. “Lily is building a stable?”

  “The project isn’t hers alone. The land belongs to Bernard Kendrick. Along with Zeke Taylor, the three of them are building the stables.”

  “Why?”

  “Seems Wade Reed turned away their business. Part of the Women’s Temperance Prayer League’s plan to close down the saloons, I hear.”

  The information sank into Nate’s mind slowly. The livery owner had refused to rent horses and buggies to the saloon owners. Reed’s wife had to have been behind the plan. Wade didn’t seem the sort to turn away business from hardworking paying customers—especially those who’d hired his horses for years.

  “It’s all perfectly legal,” Peyton added. “I have a bad feeling that at least one group in town will take exception, but there’s not a damned thing they can do to stop them.”

  “The Intolerants, you mean.”

  “Who?”

  “The Women’s Temperance Prayer League.”

  The mayor shrugged.

  “Does Wade know that she—that they—are building their own stables?”

  “I haven’t talked to him. Only one other person besides you two knows what the permit says and who paid for it. That’s my assistant and he doesn’t mingle much.”

  Nate couldn’t help admiring Lily’s ingenuity, but he had a feeling the members of the Women’s Temperance Prayer League would be up in arms over this setback to their battle plan.

  The mayor glanced toward the doorway then, and the whisper of women’s skirts rustling preceded Evangeline and Tess into the room. The fragrance of lily of the valley wafted on the air.

  Nate and Joel stood to greet the young ladies.

  Evangeline wore a yellow silk dress with a lace insert at the neck and a white sash at her waist. Her blond hair was gathered at the back of her head in long curls. She was fair and slender and pretty as could be.

  “We’ll be goin’,” Nate said to Evangeline’s father.

  “Have a nice time,” Peyton told the group.

  Nate suspected a comment was expected of him, so as he and Evangeline strolled behind the others, he said so that they couldn’t hear, “You look fetching this evening.”

  In the glow of the late-day sun, she blushed and lowered her lashes. “Thank you.”

  They reached Callahan’s restaurant and selected a table near the front window. Nate held Evangeline’s chair, and taking a cue from Nate, Joel scrambled to do the same for Tess. The men seated themselves across from the young ladies. Mrs. Callahan placed utensils and napkins before them and took their orders.

  The conversation remained polite and impersonal. Tess shared amusing stories about their group of friends, and J
oel hung on every word she spoke.

  “What does your father do?” Nate asked her. He wasn’t familiar with her family.

  “He works for Mr. Douglas at the bank,” she replied. “He’s very good with figures. I’m afraid I don’t share his talent. He tutored me in numbers when I was in school, and I was miserable. Evangeline has a head for accounts, though.”

  Nate looked to the young woman for confirmation.

  Evangeline blushed again. “Mother says it’s not attractive for a woman to be too smart.”

  “I disagree,” he told her. “Why should a woman pretend to be less than she is, just so a man can feel smarter?”

  His comment quite obviously pleased her. She smiled, and dimples appeared on either side of her mouth.

  Their food arrived, and they enjoyed the special of the day—roasted chicken with new potatoes and green beans. Nate ate at Callahan’s nearly every day, so this was no treat for him. On Mondays and Thursdays the Shady Lady offered a supper, but other than that, this was the only place to get a meal.

  Clive carried out cups of coffee. “Evenin’, ladies. Gents.”

  “Evenin’, Clive.”

  The owner set a bowl of sugar in front of Nate. “Suzanna made apple pies today,” he said, referring to his wife. “Slices are on the house.”

  They thanked him, and his wife returned with their dessert.

  Nate noticed that neither Evangeline or Tess touched their coffee. “You gonna drink that?”

  “I don’t care for coffee,” Evangeline said. “Please, drink it while it’s hot, if you want.”

  He added sugar and enjoyed a second cup. After watching Nate, Joel did the same with Tess’s cup of coffee.

  The restaurant wasn’t busy. Only a few other patrons arrived and left while Nate’s party was there. He didn’t feel as though they were creating a spectacle, so he didn’t mind lingering.

  Nate’s meals were included in his salary, but once they were finished, he paid for Evangeline’s dinner. Joel paid the other couple’s share, and they took their leave.

  “I thought we’d walk to my place now,” he told the ladies, “so Miss Gibbs can see my house.”

  “Oh, lovely!” Tess said. “I’d like to see it, too.”

  They strolled along Main Street, passing the darkened storefronts and crossing the street to walk on the opposite side as they came abreast of the Shady Lady. The dance hall was relatively quiet, but it was still early. The sound of Isaac’s piano playing was a tinny echo along the street. Half a dozen horses were tethered to the hitching posts.

  Evangeline peered at the saloon.

  Nate spoke aloud what he’d thought before. “I’ve noticed you don’t accompany your mother on her evening missions.”

  “Singing outside the saloons?” She shook her head. “My father asked my mother and me not to become involved, though she ignores his wishes. I don’t feel any personal threat from the dance halls, actually. Goodness knows I’ve sat through enough of the women’s meetings to know I should. Perhaps it’s because I was gone for a few years, but I just don’t feel connected to their cause.”

  Joel and Tess walked several feet behind them, involved in their own conversation.

  “Do you think it’s something I should be involved in?” Evangeline asked.

  “I admire you for deciding your interests for yourself,” he replied.

  “Thank you for that. It’s not easy. Mother badgers me to join them at least once a day.”

  The home Nate had purchased sat on the north side of town, away from the businesses and with no other houses nearby. They reached it a few minutes later.

  He unlocked the front door, which held an oval beveled-glass window, and ushered his company inside. After reaching into his pocket for matches, he lit the gas lamps on the walls. The night wasn’t completely dark yet, but it would be within the hour.

  They stood in the small foyer, which was empty of rugs or furniture, and their feet echoed on the floorboards.

  “This is the parlor,” he said, going ahead to light lamps. He’d picked up two chairs and a side table for the room, but it was still woefully bare.

  Evangeline studied the room, as though planning how it could look, and—perhaps—wondering why he’d wanted her to see it.

  He was wondering that himself.

  Was he actually considering taking her as a wife and bringing her here? He’d thought about it—no denying that. He’d been in Mrs. Staub’s boarding house, and he’d seen the Gibbses’ home as well as those of a few other people who had invited him by. A real home appealed immensely, as did someone with whom to share it.

  Nate pictured Evangeline in this house with him. In his life. In his bed. Nothing about any of those images put him off.

  She met his gaze then, a pink stain on her cheeks, as though she could read his thoughts.

  “Come on, I’ll show you the rest.” He led them into the dining room, the kitchen, the pantry he’d recently built, and lastly the study with its brick fireplace.

  “Bricks!” Evangeline said in surprise. “Most fireplaces out here are stone and river rock.”

  “I suspect the owner who built the place was well-off,” he replied.

  Joel spoke up for the first time. “He was a surveyor. Had a place down by the watchmaker’s. He had worked for the railroad for several years, came here for a time. He built the brick building on Main Street, but changed his plans and moved on to start another company.”

  “What was that building intended to be?” Nate asked.

  “He had a hotel in mind. Someone might take up where he left off as the town grows.”

  Nate showed them the four upstairs bedrooms and then asked if the ladies would like tea. “I got ice today, but I’m not sure how much is left.”

  “Tea would be nice,” Tess replied.

  “I set a few chairs on the porch,” Nate told them. “Eventually I’ll get a swing and maybe a rocker. Why don’t the two of you sit out there and enjoy the night air, and Miss Gibbs can help me.”

  Evangeline accompanied him to the kitchen, where earlier he had steeped tea and left the pan on the cold stovetop. “I’m not much of a cook. I can get by, but nothin’ fancy.”

  “Where are your glasses?”

  “Jars in that cupboard,” he told her.

  She located the jars while he chipped ice in a basin. She gathered the chunks and filled the containers, then sweetened the tea with a generous scoop of sugar before Nate poured it.

  “Better taste it,” he told her.

  She sipped from a jar. “Strong and cold.”

  “Passable?”

  She smiled. “Yes.”

  “Miss Gibbs,” he began.

  She looked up uncertainly.

  A nagging hesitancy kept him from committing himself by asking if she’d consider allowing him to court her. The words would make a planned relationship seem final, and that finality didn’t sit well with him. He couldn’t explain his discomfort, but it held him in check.

  He felt as though he had to be careful around her, in what he said and the way he presented himself, and he was mildly uncomfortable with the restriction. Something inside just wouldn’t let him promise more than he was ready to give.

  “Perhaps we could take a Sunday drive,” he ventured.

  Her gray-blue eyes seemed to assess his intent. “We could have a picnic after church,” she offered.

  He nodded, at ease with that arrangement.

  “Will you join my family in church this week?” she asked.

  Was this some sort of test? “Want to make sure you’re not…spending time with a heathen?” he asked.

  She blinked in surprise. “No. I mean, I don’t think so. I just thought…well, that it would be a way to…show your good intentions.”

  That brought him up short. Good intentions?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WHAT WERE HIS INTENTIONS? He wasn’t sure, and he didn’t like the feeling of not being certain of his next move. Planning well
and taking precautions had kept him employed and alive for a good many years. He was out of his element in this town and with this young woman, but he wanted the change. Now he had to acclimate to it.

  He set the filled jars on a wooden tray. “What do you think I intend, Miss Gibbs?”

  “I’m not sure, Sheriff.” Her cheeks were ablaze with embarrassment.

  “I assure you I don’t have designs to sully your reputation or your…innocence,” he stated bluntly, because he didn’t know any other way. “I just hoped to get to know you.”

  She wouldn’t meet his eyes. She nodded. “I believe you.”

  “I’ll come to church,” he said, making up his mind. If he was going to be part of the community, he needed to take part in their activities.

  Still without looking at him, she nodded.

  Nate picked up the wooden tray, and she followed him through the house to the porch.

  LATER THAT NIGHT, once he’d seen Evangeline and Tess back to the Gibbses’ home and Joel had gone his own way, Nate toured the boardwalks. The saloons were just closing up, and at the Shady Lady, Big Saul swept dust out onto the walk and then off into the street.

  “Evenin’, Sheriff,” Big Saul said with a boyish grin.

  “Busy evening?” Nate asked.

  “Yes, sir. Got a peck o’ miners in town lately.”

  There had been an influx of miners since Pete Jenkins had announced a strike nearby.

  “Not too late for a drink,” a female voice said from the doorway, and Nate glanced over to see Lily silhouetted in the opening. She wore a wine-colored dress with a low neckline and her arms were bare.

  Nate took her up on her offer, entering the saloon and moving a stool to the end of the bar.

  Lily made them each a rye and cider and sat beside him.

  “I hear you’re gonna be in the livery business,” he commented.

  She turned to face him. “Seems so. The town knows already?”

  “Not yet. I just found out from the mayor today. Joel Lynch was with me, so by tomorrow plenty more will have heard.”