“Left him a note to return to the ranch,” Jackson replied. “I came alone.”
“Jackson might prove of some use once we put our plan into action,” Carl conceded.
“What’s your plan?” Jackson glanced at the sheriff.
Carl shrugged, considering it prudent to not show his cards too soon. “We haven’t gotten that far yet.”
* * *
Lily strode down the boardwalk, arms pumping in the most unladylike manner, heading for the Milestone Hotel. She’d been awake at five o’clock and dressed in her prettiest yellow gown since six. She and Amanda had fixed each other’s hair and waited for Jackson to come fetch them. And waited. And waited.
What on earth had happened?
Her timepiece indicated eight o’clock. And Jackson promised to pick them up at the store at seven. She glanced at the woman who she hoped someday would be her sister-in-law. “Something must have happened. Jackson’s not the type to sleep late.”
Amanda chuckled, matching her step for step. “Mama complained he barely slept even when he was a little boy.”
Lily yanked open the hotel’s main door. She strode through the lobby and stood at the front desk, Amanda at her side.
Lily smiled at the skinny fellow behind the check-in desk. “Is Jackson McLennon in his room?”
“No, ma’am.” He pushed up the wire-framed glasses that threatened to slip off the end of his nose, and then smiled at her.
“Is he in the dining room?”
“No, ma’am.”
Lily gritted her teeth, determined to keep her temper in check. “Do you know where he is?”
“Can’t say for certain, ma’am.”
Amanda rapped her knuckles on the counter top. “Oh, my word, Jimmy. Where is my brother?”
The clerk took a step back, stumbling over his own feet but catching his balance before falling. “I… I don’t know.”
“When was the last time someone saw him?” Lily continued the interrogation.
“There was a note here saying he left around four this morning to visit someone at the jailhouse,” Jimmy offered. “Jackson ordered three breakfasts for seven o’clock. But neither he nor the other two diners ever arrived. Daniel left around six o’clock. Said he was heading to the Double M.”
“Jackson must still be at the jail!” Amanda exclaimed, meeting Lily’s eyes. “Maybe Sheriff Robertson has news.”
“Let’s hope you’re right,” Lily muttered, hurrying toward the exit. She didn’t like the fact no one had seen Jackson since before dawn. Why would he have left the hotel in what she would consider the middle of the night?
Ten minutes later, Lily and Amanda arrived at the empty jailhouse. They stood gazing around the deserted room.
“All of the cells are empty,” Amanda observed, standing hands on hips.
“I’m certain Jackson told me your father was spending the night in one.”
“What?” Amanda exclaimed and then shook her head. “Well, Papa’s not here now.”
Lily touched the coffee pot atop the woodstove. Cold. And no burning embers remained inside the stove. “The sheriff hasn’t been here for some time either. Could they have gone to the telegraph office? Perhaps the sheriff received a reply from a fellow in Texas.”
“Only one way to find out.” Amanda slammed the jailhouse door closed on their way out. “All this traipsing around town. The mud and muck will ruin these shoes.”
Lily strode toward the telegraph office. She and Amanda tip-toed around horse manure and mud as they crossed to the other side of the street. June had brought rain finally. Mud was an understatement. “Regardless, we need to find Jackson and your father.” She opened the door and hurried inside. Amanda slammed the door again. Patience wasn’t her friend’s strong suit.
“Has Sheriff Robertson been here?” Lily demanded.
“Yes, he has. Dragged me out of bed in the early hours of the morning,” the scrawny pimple-faced telegraph operator reported.
Amanda gazed around the empty room. “Rodney Wilkes, you tell me where he is right now!”
The fellow swallowed hard. “He… um… said he was heading to Butte.”
“Butte!” Amanda exclaimed.
“Had A. J. McLennon with him. They looked… determined. Told me to forward to Butte all telegraphs that were sent here for him. Especially anything from Texas lawmen.”
“Papa accompanied him?”
Lily caught herself gaping. Then it came to her. The blackmailer. She recalled Jackson mentioning a blackmailer’s note during their walk back to the hotel last night. The words ‘money’ and ‘June 20th’ had stuck in her mind. Tomorrow was the 19th. “I know where they went and why,” she blurted. “Come on. We need to hurry.”
Lily dragged Amanda out the door and strode toward their store, with her friend trailing close behind as she explained what Jackson shared with her on the way back to the store last night. “We need to pack a few things and then get to the general store.”
“What on earth for?”
“The stagecoach will be coming through in an hour, heading back to Butte. We’re going to be on it!” Lily unlocked the door and raced upstairs to their living quarters.
Amanda stomped upstairs behind her. “We can’t go to Butte! We have a store to run!”
Lily stood in the middle of their kitchen floor, gazing around the room as if the answer would pop out from somewhere.
“Well?”
“Then we’ll just have to close for a couple days,” Lily replied. “Can’t be helped.”
Amanda raced into her room calling, “I’ll leave a note in the front window.”
“Just say CLOSED DUE TO FAMILY EMERGENCY and leave it at that.” Lily tossed aside the rag rug and pried up the loose floorboard in her room. She dug out her secret book containing the leftover funds and counted out one hundred dollars before returning the book with the remaining cash to the hiding place she’d discovered shortly after moving in. She finished packing and lugged her suitcase down the stairs, her money hidden in a secret fold inside her traveling suit jacket.
Amanda finished situating the note in the window. “I just need to get some money from the safe in the office and then I’ll be ready to go.”
“We’ve no time. Besides, I’ve got plenty with me. Let’s go.” She hurried toward the back door.
“I cannot believe Papa is putting himself in danger, confronting a blackmailer. What was he thinking?”
“Jackson also,” Lily added. “If that man gets himself killed, I’ll never forgive him.”
Amanda reached for her hand. “I know you’re in love with my brother. And one of these days, it will occur to Jackson that he’s in love with you, too.”
Lily’s breath caught. “I…I guess I am in love with him. I can’t imagine my life without him in it.”
“One day he’ll propose. And you’ll marry. And we’ll be sisters-in-law forever,” Amanda whispered. “That’s the best part.”
Lily laughed. “Having his babies someday. That would be the best part.”
“Yes, I suppose that, too.” Amanda chuckled and added, “If Jackson could hear us now. His heart would stop.”
“Enough daydreaming and shillyshallying. We need to get to Butte.”
“You’re right. Papa needs us. And Jackson.” Amanda stepped outside and Lily locked the door behind them.
“We’ll be there soon enough.” Lily strode down the boardwalk, spying the stagecoach rumbling down Main Street and halting in front of the Milestone General Store.
Soon, they’d purchased their tickets, gotten their bags stowed, and were seated inside.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Amanda reached for Lily’s hand.
Lily patted her friend’s arm, thankful for her support. “I just wish I knew what we’re going to find when we get there.”
Chapter 21
Lily stretched and then peeked out the window of the Copper City Hotel room she shared with Amanda in Butte. The morning
of June 20 dawned sunny and warm. If only the activities that lay ahead of them today could be considered equally bright.
She grimaced, recalling the to-do they’d created when she and Amanda encountered AJ, Jackson and Sheriff Robertson seconds after the three men spotted them disembarking the stagecoach upon their arrival in Butte. The men had hidden themselves in the alleyway, hoping to spot someone who could possibly be the blackmailer coming off the stagecoach. Lily could imagine their expressions and the colorful language when AJ and Jackson initially saw the two of them.
Soon, AJ had them checked into the hotel where they’d taken the evening meal in their room. Yesterday had been spent either in their room or taking a walk near the hotel while AJ, Sheriff Robertson, and Jackson met with the local lawmen. Frequently, one of the men dropped by their room to check on them, but she and Amanda learned getting information out of any of them was impossible.
At six o’clock, their party of five had met in the dining room for supper. How often had she heard her father’s warning the walls have ears. They’d enjoyed pleasant conversation without a hint of their true reason for being in Butte in case the blackmailer was loitering within earshot. Of course, there were any number of possible candidates in the crowded dining room, and Lily didn’t even attempt to wager a guess as to who the people were. No doubt, the majority of them were travelers, visiting the rapidly growing city either on business or pleasure. Perhaps reuniting with family or friends. Lily wished her reason for being here was equally simple.
“Come on, sleepy girl. Time to start our day,” Lily called to Amanda, starting her ablutions. “I think I’ll wear my dark blue dress today. Seems fitting for what lies ahead of us.”
Amanda crawled out from between the sheets. “I’ll wear my dark gray one. I cannot wait for this day to be over.”
“Let’s hurry. We’re meeting the men for breakfast and we only have twenty minutes.”
* * *
Jackson strode into the small room the Butte lawmen had designated for their respected counterpart from Milestone to use while Carl worked on this case. A rectangular pine table surrounded by mismatched ladderback chairs monopolized the room. Assorted papers and drawings littered the table, abandoned overnight following yesterday’s planning. Of course, Carl Robertson ensured Amanda and Lily would remain settled in their room at the hotel, figuring the less the womenfolk knew of their strategy to catch the blackmailer, the better. Otherwise, the two of them would be right in the thick of things, more nuisance than useful. And a worrisome distraction from their mission to boot.
After breakfast, Lily and Amanda stormed out of the dining room when the pair realized they’d purposely been left out of the planning. Carl returned to the local jailhouse while Jackson suggested a morning walk, hoping to settle a few ruffled feathers. He and his father reluctantly explained the plan to the two women who were sworn to stay at the hotel until the blackmailer was safely locked in a jail cell. The two women had readily agreed, but Jackson wasn’t certain he believed them. The hotel clerk had been warned to lock the two women in their room if necessary.
AJ and Sheriff Robertson stood at the table, heads together, packing the money bag mostly with cut up newspaper covered by a few layers of actual cash.
“The bag should be set down beside the far post of the hitching rail,” Carl instructed AJ. “Once the bag is placed there, we’ll have a clear view of it from Benson’s Mercantile across the street. Mr. Benson granted permission for us to spy from his establishment. Should one of his customers enter, we’re to appear deep in conversation near the front windows where we can continue our surveillance without drawing attention to ourselves.”
“We’ll discuss cattle prices,” Jackson muttered.
“AJ, at ten minutes to noon you’ll discreetly drop the bag beside the hitching post and keep walking toward the Pick Axe Saloon farther down the street.” Sheriff Robertson reviewed the details of the plan one last time. “Jackson and I will situate ourselves inside the mercantile and watch for the varmint coming to retrieve that bag. Two of the local lawmen will be waiting in the Butte Daily Miner’s office directly across from us as well. Then we’ll catch him in the act.”
“Sounds good. And simple enough that nothing should go wrong,” AJ observed.
The sheriff glared at him. “You had to say it.”
Jackson shook his head. “For Pete’s sake, Pa, now anything could happen.”
* * *
Jackson and Carl Robertson strolled down the street, ducking into the back alley two establishments away from the mercantile. Keeping to the shadows as much as possible, they snuck into Mr. Benson’s store through the back door which he’d purposely left unlocked.
“Do you figure anyone saw you?” The store owner, wearing a shopkeeper’s apron, peeked over his spectacles.
The sheriff removed his Stetson. “Can’t be certain, but I don’t believe so.”
Jackson followed his lead, carrying his hat into the shop.
“I appreciate the gesture, gentlemen.” Mr. Benson nodded. “But put those back on your heads, especially if you’re trying to appear inconspicuous. Customers don’t remove their hats or coats in here.”
“Dang it, he’s right.” Sheriff Robertson stuck his Stetson on again.
“Good observation, sir.” Jackson replaced his own hat. Two female customers stood with their backs to him, staring intently into one of the glass display cases near the front window. The navy and gray dresses and modestly adorned hats the ladies wore looked very familiar. “Oh, hell no,” he muttered.
Sheriff Robertson turned and spotted them. “What are you two doing here?”
Amanda and Lily looked up from their confectionery pursuit.
“As soon as Jackson and Papa left the hotel, we had a powerful hankering for a sweet this morning,” Amanda replied.
“Couldn’t be helped,” Lily added, smiling. “Ray Cochrane doesn’t stock anything as marvelous as the delectable choices in this wonderful shop.”
“Leave. Now. Both of you,” Jackson ordered.
“We are not leaving,” Amanda argued.
Jackson reached for Lily’s hand. “Yes, you are. It’s not safe here.”
“Then you’re not safe either,” Lily declared.
“That’s different.” Jackson tugged on her hand, but she stood firm. “You’re coming, too, Amanda. I’ll sneak both of you out the back door and escort you to the hotel.”
The sheriff checked his timepiece. “It’s two minutes to noon and too late now. They’ll have to stay. We can’t risk them stepping outside in case there’s gunfire.”
“Gunfire!” Lily blurted. “Is AJ out there or has he reached the safety of the saloon already?”
“No way to tell.” The sheriff peeked through the lace curtains covering the window in the shop door. “But you ladies aren’t going anywhere.”
Amanda tipped her head back, glaring at Jackson with an ‘I-told-you-so’ expression.
Jackson reluctantly released Lily’s hand while his sister’s expression irritated him even more. At least, he could give the two ladies his full attention. “Thankfully, you haven’t any customers, Mr. Benson.”
“Oh, but he did. I wasn’t leaving here without a sweet.” Amanda held up the small bag of candy she’d already purchased.
Jackson shook his head at his sister’s notorious sweet tooth. Then he glimpsed a similar bag in Lily’s hand. Women and their love for confectioneries.
“Everyone, remove yourselves from the window area and hide behind the counter,” the sheriff instructed the two ladies and Mr. Benson.
“What do you see?” Lily called to the sheriff, heeding his orders and crouching behind the counter. Amanda and the shopkeeper complied immediately as well.
“Nothing yet.”
Amanda’s head popped up from behind the counter. “Perhaps the blackmailer’s waiting to ensure no one is watching him.”
“Get your head down,” Jackson ordered his sister, pushing on the t
op of her head and removing her from any possible line of fire. He recalled what had happened to poor Mr. Cameron during the bank robbery a few months ago.
“The street is completely deserted. I reckon folks are home enjoying their noon meal,” the sheriff suggested.
“I usually close the store from noon until one o’clock. That could explain the lack of customers. Folks know I’m at home eating.” Mr. Benson’s voice was muffled from behind the counter.
“The blackmailer could be a crafty fellow. He probably picked noon, knowing the streets would be deserted.” The sheriff shifted to his other foot.
Jackson’s body vibrated with adrenaline, ready to charge out of the store in pursuit of the person who took that bag.
“This waiting is killing me,” Lily muttered.
“It’s only been four minutes,” the sheriff remarked. “Can’t recall if I ever waited for a blackmailer before. Could take a while.”
“Sheriff, should I go out the back door like I do every day, and head home to eat?” Mr. Benson suggested. “My missus has no idea what’s going on here. She’ll be expecting me.”
“If the blackmailer has been studying the street for some time, he’ll be watching for something out of the ordinary.” The sheriff waved the storekeeper to the back. “Go ahead. Just stay off the front of the street.”
“Never go that way. Shorter to cut through the feed store alleyway,” Mr. Benson called, yanking off his apron, grabbing his cap from under the counter, and leaving the store through the back door.
Jackson stood behind the sheriff, watching the bag as if it might sprout legs and walk off by itself. He agreed with Lily; this waiting was nerve-wracking.
“Someone’s coming,” the sheriff whispered.
Jackson craned his neck. “Just a woman in a black dress. Probably running late, heading home for her noon meal.”
“You’re probably right.” The sheriff crossed his arms and continued gazing though the lace. Suddenly, his arms dropped to his sides. “What in tarnation? That woman grabbed the dang bag!” he shouted, charging out the door and racing across the street.
Canceled-Order Bride (Sons Of A Gun Book 1) Page 15
