The Bounty Hunter

by Cheryl St. John

  “I’ll be hanged.” He sipped his beer. “I still don’t have a good idea who started the fire. One of the women would seem most logical—Meriel especially, since the livery will cut into their business—but Wade swears she was home with him from the time they left the jail until he heard the shouts about the fire.”

  “You don’t think he’d lie to protect her?”

  “I don’t know. He’s sympathetic to her feelings and the fact that she feels like a fish out of water here, but I can’t see him lying.”

  “Me, neither. And I’ve known him a long time.”

  “He has a lot of respect for you, Lily.”

  She didn’t even understand words like respect or honor anymore.

  “How much did the fire set you back?”

  “Lumber, nails and shingles. Hiring the men. The supplies and stock hadn’t arrived yet, so we got off easy there.”

  “Are Zeke and Bernie sharing the loss?”

  “I’m paying for it. I think they’d have backed out if I’d let them, so this way everybody’s happy.”

  “You ever read sonnets, Lily?”

  She gave him a curious look. “You mean like poems?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I read the catalogs at Howard’s, the ledgers on my desk and the labels on the cans of coffee. Oh, and the stock invoices. Poems don’t have much to do with my life, Sheriff.”

  He looked to be thinking.

  “What made you ask that?”

  “Just wonderin’.”

  Wondering how she compared to Evangeline, she’d bet. She gathered her papers in a stack and glanced to make sure nobody was within earshot. She met his eyes and took a breath.

  “We’re not going to be meeting for midnight swims anymore.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “WEATHER’LL BE TURNING cooler,” he agreed.

  “The weather has nothing to do with it. We’re not going to—to see each other anymore. Not in private.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “If you say what happened was a mistake, I’m going to hit somethin’.”

  “I’m not saying that.”

  His quiet voice was angry when he said, “You told me you wouldn’t be sorry. I asked ahead to make sure. I didn’t want you to be sorry.”

  Lily could hardly speak around the lump that had formed in her throat. She lay awake every night thinking of the way he’d made her feel. She wasn’t sorry that she’d experienced something beautiful with a man so considerate and unselfish.

  What she regretted was being the means to satisfy his sexual appetites while sparing the lady he wanted to marry. What she hated was not being that woman.

  She set down the papers. “Come with me, please.”

  He got up and followed her along the back hall into the house. Violet was seated at the kitchen table with a slate and a book. She glanced up, saw who’d entered and looked right back down at her studies.

  Lily led him into the bathing chamber behind the kitchen where she closed the door, cocooning them in privacy. Violet would no doubt wonder what she was up to, but she wouldn’t say anything.

  Nate glanced around the room, his gaze taking in the tub, the stacks of white towels, the shelf of bath salts and various boxes and bottles.

  “We’ve been honest with each other,” Lily said straight-out.

  “I’ve told you things I never told anyone,” he said.

  “I don’t want to damage that. I don’t want to take away from what we had together.”

  “What’re you gettin’ to?”

  “I know about Evangeline,” she said.

  He blinked once, but he held her gaze. “What about her?”

  “You’ve thought about marrying her, haven’t you?”

  “I thought about it. Yes.”

  “I won’t take anything more away from her,” Lily said. “You and I are not going to do again what we did. Ever. She is the marrying kind of lady, I’m not. She deserves your loyalty and devotion. You felt you were sparing her, but you weren’t.” Lily wanted to reach across the space between them and touch his face. Her palm burned with the desire, but she kept her hand clenched at her side. “Trust me, I know she’ll appreciate you. And if she doesn’t, she’s crazy.”

  “What about us?” he asked.

  “There is no us, Sheriff. There can’t be.”

  “Why not?”

  Because I run a dance hall and drink rye and wear trousers and have my naked picture hanging over a bar. “Because I’m Lily Divine,” she said simply.

  “You’re saying we’ll never be together again?” he asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “And that you want me to be with someone else?”

  She nodded.

  Nate absorbed her words with as much dignity as he could muster. He’d suspected she didn’t have any feelings for him beyond those of physical desire, but apparently her curiosity had been satisfied or her goal met, and she had no further need of him.

  “All right, Lily. You’re an independent, self-sufficient woman. You know your own mind. I admire that.”

  “I know you do.”

  “I’m still not sorry.”

  Something in her expression flickered. “Neither am I.”

  Did something about him threaten her independence or her confidence? He would never have asked her to change. Maybe she wanted him and her rejection was simply because she didn’t need him. She took care of herself, she’d known every sort of man there was, and she didn’t care to have any of them. He was just another man.

  He’d been sorting things through in his head ever since the night at the stream and he didn’t know if he could be attracted to another woman after Lily. He’d been trying with Evangeline, but everything about her paled in comparison.

  He hadn’t felt anything particularly movin’ about kissing Evangeline. Just looking at Lily’s mouth sent his blood pumping.

  Impulsively he hooked one arm around Lily’s back and pulled her flush against him where he could feel the crush of her breasts against the front of his shirt. Her eyes opened wide, and he kissed her before she could protest.

  Lily’s mouth was heaven, the taste of her a craving he’d never kick. He wanted to leave part of himself with her. He wanted to take part of her as his own.

  He wanted Lily.

  But she didn’t need him. She didn’t need any man.

  This was what he got for sticking his neck out like a fool.

  He released her and looked at her one last time before turning on his heel. He made his way past the girl they called Francesca. She didn’t look up and he continued on until he was out of Lily’s house.

  She was Lily Divine. As if that should be enough of an explanation for anyone. Was it?

  She had the best of all worlds right there in her carefully built and stocked and populated home and dance hall. She didn’t have to depend on anyone. She didn’t have to conform to society or any rigid structure of rules because no one expected her to. She had her choice of men—if she chose to have one—and she was pretty much adored by everyone who knew her.

  She was Lily Divine all right. And she’d told him to direct his interests toward another woman. No other woman could ever compare. And he suspected Lily knew that, too.

  IT TOOK NEARLY A WEEK of rolling it around in his head and avoiding women of any ilk before Nate told himself he’d blown his attraction to Lily out of proportion. She was a larger-than-life figure in this town, and he’d let the romance of her legendary popularity influence his judgment.

  He’d made up his mind to effect a change and he was determined that it would still happen.

  Beatrice had once again invited him to dinner, and he accepted the invitation, intent on taking up where he’d left off with Evangeline before he’d become sidetracked.

  Over Evangeline’s peach torte, they drank tea from delicate china cups.

  “The mayor and I have another engagement this evening,” Beatrice announced. “You young people enjoy your after-dinn
er tea and conversation while we go prepare.”

  Nate stood as Beatrice got up, and she and her husband took their leave.

  Evangeline poured hot tea into his cup and offered him the sugar bowl. “Father says your team is shaping up quite nicely.”

  Nate stirred a spoonful into his cup.

  John Douglas’s youth was one of the positives about their team. Spooner and Clive were pretty fair, but the mayor was hopeless. He had yet to hit the ball during practice, and his pitching was worse. Nate had seen the teams from the Shady Lady and the other saloons practicing in the mornings. Their business hours afforded them daytime to practice, while the rest of them were putting it off or meeting in the twilight after work.

  “I can hardly believe how seriously everyone is taking this competition,” she added.

  “If you’re gonna do something, do it right,” he replied.

  “That’s an admirable philosophy.”

  “Been meaning to ask you something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “What’s an asphodel?”

  “Asphodel is an herb. Why do you ask?”

  “It was in the poem. Did you learn about herbs at finishing school?”

  “I believe I just read about it somewhere. I can’t recall, actually.”

  “What did you learn at finishing school?”

  “We were trained in deportment. Manners. Skills a wife needs, such as baking and embroidery.”

  “You learned the baking part well.”

  Her cheeks turned pink. “Thank you.”

  Classes for being a wife. He pondered the mystery of that for a moment. Kind of reminded him of training a horse to do its master’s bidding.

  “So, what do you do during the day?”

  “I bake and sew, and Mother’s been showing me how the household is run. We go visiting and have ladies over for tea. The women still hold meetings at one another’s homes and Mother insists on dragging me along.”

  “I thought the Prayer League had been disbanded.”

  “The women still meet for prayer, but Mrs. Reed isn’t among them any longer. The focus has shifted for the better.”

  “That’s promisin’.”

  “Do you play cribbage, Nathaniel?”

  “I’m pretty rusty, but I could probably hold my own.”

  “Let’s retire to the parlor with our tea, and we’ll play.”

  Evangeline was just setting out the cards when her mother paused in the doorway. “We’ll be leaving now. Oh, Evangeline dear, do set those dreadful cards aside and play the pianoforte for Mr. Harding. Good evening.”

  “Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Gibbs,” he called as she left.

  Her daughter met Nate’s eyes. “Mother doesn’t approve of card games. She believes they’re vulgar.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I don’t understand her distaste. I rather enjoy the strategy.” She looked at the cards in her hand for another moment, then laid them down. “I shall play something for you first.”

  Nate took a wing chair beside the fireplace and settled in.

  An oil lamp burned on the top of the pianoforte, and a gas light on the wall, bathing Evangeline in a glow that softened her pale complexion and shone on the golden waves of her hair.

  With its dulcet tones and lilting melodies, the music she played was nothing he was accustomed to hearing. It was pretty, but a little stiff and formal.

  “Do you read the notes?” he asked.

  “Yes, but I’ve memorized several drawing-room pieces. It’s fashionable for people in the city to gather in someone’s home for an evening of culture. I played for all of my aunt’s friends when I was visiting her.”

  “I haven’t known much culture,” he said. “But I can tell you’re good.”

  At his compliment, she sat up even straighter and finished the piece.

  “Do you know anything with words?” he asked.

  She played and sang “Beautiful Dreamer” in a voice as sweet as her temperament. The words made a little more sense than those of her sonnets, but still wrapped his thinking in a knot. As she finished and played another song, his thoughts wandered to the town outside this house and his duty of checking on the saloons. No one ever mentioned anything to him if he took some time for himself, but he knew his responsibilities and held himself accountable. Time spent here seemed at odds with his purpose, though he knew he wasn’t single-handedly in charge of overseeing Thunder Canyon.

  Evangeline finished.

  “That was real nice,” he said.

  “Shall we play cribbage now?”

  He was getting a headache and wanted some fresh air. “Tell you what. I need to make rounds. How about if I come back tomorrow evening—after dinner—and we’ll play cribbage?”

  Her smile indicated he’d pleased her with his suggestion.

  “Please tell your mother again that I thank her for dinner.”

  She stood to walk him to the door.

  He faced her as they lingered inside the front hall, and she glanced at his shoulder and barely met his eyes.

  From a place in his mind he didn’t want to visit, a nagging concern reared its head. Could he do this for the rest of his life?

  She was pretty, he assured himself. Lily is exquisite, his internal demon wheedled.

  She had dignified manners, she spoke in a soft un-assuming tone, and she’d been tutored to please a husband. Lily got what she wanted, would never back off if she held an opinion and took her pleasure in any man she chose, the voice beguiled.

  She wore soft pastels and yards of crisp pleated ruffles and flounces. No man had ever seen her feminine assets. Lily struck a pose in a red satin dress and knew how fine her breasts were spilling over the top of a corset.

  The comparisons had to stop or he’d never move on and get the life he wanted.

  Nate stepped forward and kissed Evangeline, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and urging her toward him. She held herself stiffly and brought a fist up to his chest to keep their bodies from touching. He moved his mouth on hers, and her body relaxed somewhat. Her lips softened under his, and she opened her fist to spread her palm on his shirtfront.

  Nate released her.

  Evangeline pressed her fingertips to her lips and studied him with wide, uncertain eyes.

  Nate stepped out into the night, disappointment whispering a taunt in his head.

  The night air felt good on his skin and his long, determined strides swallowed up the distance to Main Street.

  He made his rounds, visiting the other dance halls first and leaving the Shady Lady for last. Lily had stopped avoiding him.

  She stood at the end of the cherrywood bar deep in conversation with Wesley Clark. There were three cowboys Nate hadn’t seen in town before standing with them, mugs of beer in hand. Lily walked to the side with one of them, tilting her head as she listened to something he said.

  The cowboy jerked a thumb over his shoulder, and with a grin, she joined him for a dance.

  Nate couldn’t take his eyes away. He moved to the bar and asked Old Jess for a beer. Helena sat down beside him. “Good evening, Sheriff.”

  “Miss Helena.”

  Lily was wearing a purple dress he hadn’t seen before. He glanced down at the bar and spotted her black lace fan with the fringed tassels.

  He wouldn’t let the woman tie him in knots. She wasn’t going to change, and she’d told him so in no uncertain terms.

  He raised his gaze to the portrait. He’d known every silken inch of that body. He’d held those breasts and kissed those lips.

  So had a hundred other men, he told himself. Didn’t make him special. So would that cowboy tonight, probably.

  Nate drank his beer, put down the mug with a whack and left.

  “Goodnight, Sheriff,” Helena called to his departing back.

  THE SATURDAY of the elimination tournament arrived cooler than all the days that had preceded it. Fall was in the air, and the reprieve was a welcome one to the resident
s of Thunder Canyon.

  Nate showed up with his team, all of them dressed in dungarees and chambray shirts with the sleeves rolled back. The mayor had said they’d needed a uniform of some sort, and this was what they’d come up with.

  The miners wore any old thing they’d washed that month, and Zeke and Bernie’s team all had new red bandannas tied around their necks.

  The Shady Lady’s players were unmistakable and right in character in their colorful low-cut satin dresses and ankle-high boots. Lily never missed an opportunity to flaunt or shine, and she was shining this morning.

  She wore the red dress she’d had on the day Judge Adams had inspected her employees and searched her business and home for the Brand girl. Black lace trimmed the bodice, and she wore a black straw hat to keep the sun from her eyes.

  Nate scanned the crowd for reactions and noted that Lily had drawn attention exactly as he knew she’d planned. “Costumes don’t make a good team,” he told his teammates.

  George gathered the team leaders and went over the rules. They drew straws to determine who would play each other first.

  Everyone got a look at the competition this way, and the weaker teams were defeated quickly.

  The miners were tough competition, lasting to the finals. By the time they broke for lunch, everyone needed a second wind.

  Mitch sat with the Gibbs family, the Douglases, Spooner, and Clive and Suzanna.

  The Callahans had prepared and packed baskets full of food and drinks. “Don’t overeat,” Clive warned his team members.

  The employees from the dance hall were lounging on the back of a wagon and in the surrounding grass. They had unpacked a crate of sandwiches, fruit and cheese, and were obviously enjoying the outing and the nice day.

  “Can you believe they wore those dresses?” Beatrice spoke to Evangeline and Catherine Douglas, but Nate overheard. “It’s bad enough they were allowed to join this activity, but to flaunt their sordid occupations in our faces is rude beyond extreme.”

  “Clothes don’t make the person,” Nate said.

  Beatrice gave him a disapproving look, and Evangeline studied him.

  “It’s for a good cause,” Catherine said. “Their entry fee is going the same place ours is.”