The Bounty Hunter

by Cheryl St. John

  Seemed a mite odd to wear his gun to church, but he was the sheriff, after all. People expected to be protected, and he’d feel buck naked without it, anyway.

  Reed’s finest buggies were hired out this morning as townspeople arrived. A row of parked ranchers’ wagons stretched along the road to the west, and people milled in the churchyard.

  Nate approached the gathering and walked through the open gate in the white picket fence. It wasn’t as though he’d never been to church before. He’d been married in a church. He’d been to funerals. He’d followed a wanted man into the midst of a revival meeting once and had nearly lost him to Jesus before he could get the handcuffs on.

  Some of the looks cast his way were those of surprise, but most glances were friendly as he approached the stairs and the open doors.

  “Good morning, Sheriff.” Reverend Bacon greeted him with a firm handshake. “Welcome to God’s house.”

  “Thanks.”

  Inside the small building, the church members were taking their seats on long wooden benches. Nate spotted the Gibbs family, and the mayor and Beatrice stepped out into the aisle so Nate could sidle in and sit beside Evangeline.

  She wore a lavender-and-white-checked bonnet that matched her dress this morning, and she moved acres of skirts aside so he could sit. She met his gaze with a demure smile.

  The reverend led all the verses and choruses of several hymns, and Nate knew where the Intolerants got in all their practicin’. The message was about David and King Saul, and Nate found the history part interesting. When he’d finished preaching and praying, Reverend Bacon announced a brief meeting for any townspeople interested as soon as the service was concluded.

  Nate thought a town meeting held in the church was a mite unusual. It had been his understanding that most of the meetings took place at Lily’s. He had a bad feeling about this gathering in particular.

  Reverend Bacon stood at the front of the room to address the people. “You may have heard about the rancher who was injured by a horse last week. I’m sorry to tell you he died Friday.”

  Sympathetic murmurs passed through the crowd. Nate had heard about the accident, but hadn’t known the man.

  “Some of us have come up with a way to raise money for the family,” he said. “And have fun at the same time. George, come up here and tell them about the idea.”

  The barber moved to stand beside Reverend Bacon. “I was thinkin’ we could have us a base ball tournament. I got to thinking about it, ’cause I read about tournaments in the papers. What they do is charge a fee for each team to sign up. We could have teams, and the money we raise would go to the Stoddard family. Should help the missus hire help and keep the ranch going for the rest of the season.”

  “Isn’t that a great idea?” the reverend asked. “A community fund-raiser.”

  The suggestion was met with approving voices, and it was suggested that George and the reverend find the sponsors and deposit the entry fees. The amount of the entry fee was decided quickly.

  A few church members left after that discussion, and the children were still occupied in a game outdoors. The mayor came forward and brought up the subject of the new livery.

  He adjusted his tie, appearing uncomfortable with his position in moderating the discussion. He opened the floor, and the members of the Women’s Temperance Prayer League stood at the front of the room.

  “We must show our opposition to this newest form of rebellion,” Meriel Reed announced. “The saloon owners cannot get away with harming our respectable businesses.”

  “That’s right,” Blythe agreed. “If they get no support or customers, they can’t continue this practice.”

  The butcher, an unmarried German immigrant, stood. “With due respect, ma’am—and ma’am—seems to me they wouldn’t have been forced to start their own livery if the one already here hadn’t turned ’em away. What’s a person to do to get their supplies?”

  “That’s the idea, Mr. Hulbert.” Meriel straightened. “By forcing them out of business, we will make them discontinue their sordid occupations.”

  “This is America,” he replied. “They have just as much of a right to their occupations as any of us do.”

  “And where do you think the tax money for that new school building and the schoolteacher’s salary came from?” a rancher asked, standing to speak his piece. “The saloons’ve been supportin’ this town for years.”

  “We don’t need their kind of money,” Beatrice Gibbs said.

  Nate exchanged a look with the mayor.

  “We can raise money on our own,” she went on. “We’ve already built the Temperance Hall from our box socials and quilt sales.”

  “Lady, that ain’t a drop in a bucket compared to what the saloons bring in,” another man said. “Do you know how much they pay in taxes a year? How much their fines add up to? Besides that, when miners come in to the saloon, they board their horses, they get a bath and a shave, they eat at Clive’s place.”

  Clive and Suzanna Callahan nodded their agreement.

  “And if they have some dust to sell, they do so and buy supplies from Howard.” He looked at the mercantile owner. “How many miners outfitted themselves because of that Jenkins fella shoutin’ about a strike?”

  Blythe stood at that. “I don’t have a problem selling to the miners. It’s the women from the dens of iniquity we should turn away and discourage.”

  At that, Howard Shaw stepped up beside his wife and faced her. “Don’t you understand? If the miners didn’t have a saloon to come into Thunder Canyon for, they would go somewhere else!” he said emphatically. “We wouldn’t have any of their business.”

  Shirley Staub spoke up then. “I haven’t taken sides in this issue. I don’t want to. But I run a place in town, too, and it seems to me that Wade is going to be hurt by his decision to turn away the saloon owners.” She looked directly at Meriel. “Once their livery is running, people will have a choice, and that cuts into your living. If Clive turned them away, what’s to say they wouldn’t start their own restaurant? The Shady Lady already serves meals two evenings a week.”

  “Don’t speak that name in the house of the Lord!” Meriel cried.

  At that point Nate understood exactly what Lily had meant about these women being unreachable in their own narrow-minded little world.

  Several people spoke at once, and chaos broke out.

  After a few minutes of being unable to understand anyone over the commotion, Nate got up and walked to the front of the church.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “ENOUGH!” NATE BELLOWED.

  Silence ensued. One by one, every person looked at him.

  The rafters creaked.

  Reverend Bacon smiled.

  “I know this is my first time to church and all, but damn! Don’t you people know freedom and tolerance are what your fathers fought to the death for? Speaking your mind and having an opinion are fine. Fine! But trying to force people into your way of thinkin’ and believin’ is wrong.”

  “You were hired to do a job, Sheriff, not to tell us how to run our town,” Meriel said.

  He took an angry step forward and directed his words to her. “Any time the city council doesn’t like the way I’m doin’ my job, they can let me know. The men who hired me can have my resignation. My job is to keep the peace in this town. Hell, the most disturbance I see comes from right here.” He pointed to the floor, indicating the whole of the gathering.

  He glanced from face to face and zeroed in on Wade. “Mr. Reed, do you realize what you’ve done? This is revenue we’re talkin’ about! If your livery business suffers, what will the effect be on you and your household?”

  “Well…things would be real tight.”

  “There wouldn’t be much money to spend, would there?”

  “I reckon not. Not if none was comin’ in.”

  “And expenses like dresses and shoes and frippery for the house would have to be forgotten, do you suppose?”

  Wade glanced f
rom Nate to his wife, understanding dawning on his face. “Yep. A cut in what we sell means a cut in what we spend. That’s a fact.”

  Meriel’s face drew into a pinch.

  Howard Shaw spoke up then. “If Miss Lily stopped ordering from the catalogs and buying her supplies from me, my profits would drop considerably. She’s one of my biggest customers. Zeke and Bernie, too.”

  Blythe’s angry expression scorched her husband and blistered every man in the room. “Is money more important than morals? Are we going to condone the practices of sin and evil by supporting them?”

  The Thorndike man who worked at the bank spoke up for the first time. “Seems to me some of us have let our wives’ perceptions of what is right and wrong dictate our better judgment. Is it our job to be telling others they are wrong or that their business is sinful?”

  “The Good Book does teach us that we should lead by example and pray for our brethren,” the reverend said.

  “And get the plank out of our own eye,” Clive Callahan added. His wife poked him in the ribs.

  Thorndike addressed the subject again. “Mr. Shaw, you sell bottles of liquor from your mercantile, as well as playing cards and dice. Mr. Clark sells guns and bullets, weapons that kill. No one is asking you men to stop selling your merchandise.”

  “I’m not going to deny anyone’s business,” Clive said. Suzanna nodded her agreement this time.

  “Lily and the others are good customers,” Howard said. “I’m not changing my practices, either.”

  Blythe scowled at her husband. The room got so quiet, Nate could almost hear her blood boiling. She gathered her skirts, marched stiffly to the bench where she’d left her reticule and then stormed down the aisle and out of the church.

  Howard’s grim expression showed that being between a rock and a hard place was mighty uncomfortable.

  “My goose is already cooked,” Wade said with angry regret in his tone. “I shoulda been more of a man and stood my ground. If my business is hurt, I got nobody to blame but myself.” He looked at his wife, and it was in his eyes but he didn’t add, “and her.”

  Meriel got tears in her eyes and quickly sat on a bench in the front row.

  Mayor Gibbs moved to the front of the gathering, and Nate took a seat.

  “I’m hearing that the general consensus is that we may have been a little swift in our decisions regarding the saloons,” he said. “Nothing to be done about the new livery now, except see how it pans out.”

  It was a subdued group that left the building. The businessmen looked a little more confident in their decisions, but the women from the Women’s Temperance Prayer League were positively scarlet with anger.

  Nate found Evangeline in the dooryard, where she stood waving a fan under her chin. Her expression was one of mortification.

  “Something wrong, Miss Gibbs?”

  She glanced over his shoulder as though checking to make sure no one would hear her. “I hope my mother’s stand doesn’t reflect poorly on me in your opinion, Sheriff.”

  “Not at all. You told me you don’t share her cause.”

  “It’s almost an embarrassment to be a woman in this town.”

  Nate glanced at the couples and families leaving the churchyard. “I’ll bet there’s going to be some heat in the kitchens in Thunder Canyon today.” He looked back at her. “Your mother might not take a shine to me after today.”

  She shrugged. “My father likes you.”

  “I’ll pick you up in half an hour.”

  “I’ll be ready.” She joined her parents.

  He mounted his horse and rode straight to the Shady Lady. The front doors were locked, so he hurried to the house next door and rang the bell.

  Wearing a plain lavender dress and an apron, Mollie answered the door. “Afternoon, Sheriff.”

  He removed his hat. “Mollie. Is Miss Lily available?”

  “Sure. Come on in.” She stepped back so he could enter the foyer. “I’ll go get her.”

  He glanced at the papered walls and the chandelier. A table he hadn’t seen the last time he’d been inside Lily’s house caught his attention, and he studied it without appreciation. The thing was hideous, with cast-iron legs that looked like an elephant’s, ivory tusks as braces and a marble top. The fringed lamp it held wasn’t much more attractive.

  “Hello, Sheriff.”

  Lily approached, and he turned toward her voice. She wore a gray skirt and a long-sleeved white blouse with a high neck, like something any woman would wear. Her auburn hair was neatly gathered in a knot, and he immediately noticed her fresh feminine scent. For a moment he couldn’t think about anything except the kiss they’d shared.

  “Lily.”

  “Admiring my table?”

  He took one more painful glance. “Yes. It’s…unusual.”

  “What brings you here on a Sunday afternoon?”

  “There was a meeting after church today. I wanted to let you know.”

  “After church?”

  His ears felt hot. She was excluded from everything that happened at church. He shouldn’t have mentioned that part. “Two things were talked about. One was a community fund-raiser for the Stoddard family.”

  “I heard that Charlie died. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

  “That’s not what I came about. I wanted to tell you the reactions about the livery. Your livery.”

  She reached for his hat and looked at it for a moment before hanging it on a hook by the door. “Come into the parlor.” She headed toward the other room and he had no choice but to follow. “I’ll get you something cold to drink.”

  “No thanks. I have…something I have to do.”

  “Okay. Well…sit down.”

  He perched on a comfortable chair. When he’d searched the house with Judge Adams’s assistant that day, he’d noticed the sturdy furnishings. This was a room a person could live in.

  “You look very nice today, by the way,” she said.

  Her comment caught him off guard. Was she teasing him about church? Should he return the compliment? He chose a safer conversation. “The businessmen took a stand against the Intolerants.”

  She sat up straighter. “They did?”

  “Your new business venture made quite an impact.”

  “That was my hope.”

  “You have a lot of support from the ranchers and the business owners. I just thought you should know that.”

  “Okay. What about the women?”

  “I don’t see them slinking away after their husbands stood up to them. Especially not Meriel. She was in a snit for sure. I suggested to Wade that if he lost revenue, he’d have to cut back on fripperies. She wasn’t happy.”

  “She should have thought about that before.”

  “All hell’s gonna break loose in those homes today, you can bet on that.”

  They looked at each other and shared a slow grin.

  Nate wished he could stay and have a cold drink with her. It was a good thing he already had plans, or he’d be sorely tempted, and the two of them together wouldn’t lead anywhere healthy. Their kiss had proven there was enough combustible heat between them to blow up his good intentions.

  “I’d better go. I just wanted you to know.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  She followed him to the door, and he grabbed his hat before stepping out into the sunshine.

  “Have a nice afternoon, Sheriff.”

  “You, too.”

  He headed toward the livery. What did a woman of Lily’s reputation do on a Sunday afternoon? She had no acquaintances except those who worked in her saloon. Did she wish for more?

  He rented a buggy and guided the horse to the mayor’s home.

  Evangeline had changed into a yellow dress with ruffles at the hem and shoulders and an eyelet bodice. The pale color set off her coloring and her eyes, making her look very innocent and feminine. She carried a wide-brimmed straw hat.

  He took the basket she handed him and put it in the
boot before helping her up onto the seat.

  She placed the hat on her head, tied the ribbons under her chin and angled the brim to keep the sun from her face.

  “Do you know of a picnic spot?” she asked.

  “I think I know a good place.” He turned the buggy toward the stream, and found a shady spot a good distance from Lily’s swimming area.

  Evangeline set about spreading a checkered cloth and unwrapping chicken and coleslaw and pickles. She’d even brought two thick slices of chocolate cake and a jug of milk. She took off her hat and he did the same, sitting at the opposite edge of the cloth.

  They ate with the restful sound of the stream close by.

  “Did you fix all this yourself?”

  “Cook helped with the chicken and she had canned the pickles, but I made the slaw and the cake myself. Does the menu suit you?”

  “Never had better.” Nate had enjoyed every bite of the lunch. Impressive, he thought, finishing his mug of milk. What man wouldn’t want a beautiful wife who could cook and bake—and who aimed to please?

  He watched her wrap and pack away the plates and utensils, wondering what to say next. With a full belly and an afternoon without his usual daily concerns, he really would have liked a nap right about now.

  “That was a fine meal,” he said.

  “My pleasure.”

  She took a slim volume from the basket. “I brought a book.”

  He glanced at it and up at her.

  “Shall I read from it?”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “Sonnets by Elizabeth Barret Browning. Have you read her poetry?”

  “Can’t say as I have, no.”

  “They’re lovely. I’ll start with a few of my favorites.”

  He nodded.

  Evangeline situated herself with her knees to one side and her skirt forming a halo, half on the tablecloth, half on the grass.

  “‘My own beloved, who hast lifted me from this drear flat of earth where I was thrown,’” she read.

  In a sweet voice she read verses that Nate tried to find some order and meaning to in his head.

  “‘And in betwixt the languid ringlets, blown a life-breath, till the forehead hopefully shines out again, as all the angels see.’”