Heather's Choice

by Shirleen Davies

  Bending, he placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. “We’ve known each other a good deal of time. I believe it is time you called me August.”

  “Aye, as long as you call me Kyla.”

  “Done.” Turning, he nodded toward the two people behind him. “I don’t believe you had a chance to meet Miss Harris at the dance last spring. Kyla, this is Miranda Harris, our newest schoolteacher. Next to her is my new partner, Bayard Donahue. Miranda and Bay, Mrs. Kyla MacLaren.”

  After greetings were exchanged, Kyla stood aside, ushering them into the large front room. “Everyone, August Fielder has arrived with his guests, Miranda Harris and Bayard Donahue. Please make them feel welcome.”

  Heather watched from the dining room, unable to pull her gaze from Miranda. To her disappointment, the young woman was every bit as stunning as she’d been at the dance. Walking toward her, Heather noticed how petite she was, with silky red hair and clear blue eyes. At the dance, she hadn’t seen the sprinkling of freckles across the young woman’s nose.

  “Miss Harris?”

  Miranda turned, offering a broad smile. “Yes?”

  “I’m Heather MacLaren.”

  “It’s such a pleasure to meet you.” Miranda didn’t make eye contact, instead focusing her gaze around the room. “There are so many MacLarens. It will be difficult to keep you all straight.”

  She still hadn’t acknowledged Heather with more than words.

  “Is there someone in particular you’re looking for, Miss Harris? Perhaps I can help.”

  Miranda’s startled gaze whipped to Heather, a slight blush creeping up her face. “Well, I am looking for a gentleman I met at the dance when I was here last spring.”

  Heather steeled her features, knowing the name Miranda would speak.

  “Caleb Stewart. Do you know him?”

  “Aye. He’s our foreman at the ranch we purchased south of here.” Heather should’ve continued, telling Miranda not to expect him. Instead, she let the young woman continue her hopeful search. “He’s not appeared for Sunday supper in quite a while.”

  “Oh. I’d so hoped to see him again.”

  Heather felt a tinge of guilt at Miranda’s obvious disappointment. It wasn’t her fault Heather hadn’t come to her senses about Caleb sooner. “You’re welcome to sit next to me at supper. I’d love to hear of your life back east.”

  Miranda fidgeted with the sleeve of her dress, then let out a breath. “Thank you, Miss MacLaren. That would be lovely.”

  “I don’t believe we’ve met.” Bay walked up, nodding at Miranda while focusing his attention on the woman beside her.

  Heather glanced at the man who’d arrived with Miranda and August, taking a good look at him for the first time.

  “Nae, we haven’t.”

  “Bayard Donahue.” He made a slight bow, his eyes never leaving hers.

  “Heather MacLaren, Mr. Donahue.”

  “It’s a pleasure, Miss MacLaren. I hope it isn’t rude of me to ask, but are you married to a MacLaren?”

  Heather laughed, her eyes dancing. “Nae, Mr. Donahue. I’m afraid I was born into this unruly clan. Quinn is my brother.”

  Bay looked around the room. “Only one sibling, Miss MacLaren?”

  “Nae. I’ve four others. Bram is over there talking with our cousin, Camden.”

  Bay nodded. “Yes, I’ve met both of them.”

  “Thane will be staying in the barn with one of the heifers who’s ready to calve. The two youngest, Lara and Bryce, are playing with their cousins. They’ll be having supper at Aunt Lorna and Uncle Ewan’s home.”

  “I see. Colin mentioned your aunt and uncle would be arriving a little late. So, do you live on the ranch or in town, Miss MacLaren?”

  She bit her lip, clasping her hands together. “At the ranch. I work with Colin and Quinn.”

  A smile split Bay’s face. “You appear to be the kind of woman who enjoys being outside. Do you work with the cattle or horses?”

  His quick acceptance of her role at the ranch surprised her. “The cattle. Emma, Quinn’s wife, works with the horses.”

  Miranda snickered. “It must be challenging working with your family all day, then coming in to have supper with them.”

  “Aye, some days are more difficult than others. I’d be wishing it no other way, though.”

  Patting her hair, Miranda’s mouth tilted up at the corners. “My family would never be able to do it. We love each other, but we’re constantly at odds. My parents expect little of me, except to marry and have children.”

  Bay shifted a little toward her. “Yet they allowed you to come west to teach.”

  Chuckling, Miranda shook her head. “They grew tired of my badgering them, Mr. Donahue. I assure you, it was no easy task getting them to agree with my decision. In the end, they gave up rather than continue to fight me on it.”

  “Do you have siblings, Miss Harris?”

  Any sign of humor left her face, her eyes clouding. “I have an older brother, Mr. Donahue. Many years ago, he and our father had a horrible fight one night. The next morning, he was gone and never returned.”

  “My apologies, Miss Harris. I didn’t mean to bring up such a distressful topic.”

  She blinked, doing her best to ignore the moisture in her eyes. “It’s quite all right, Mr. Donahue. I was only six when it happened, so I’ve grown used to him being gone. Although I’ll never forget him.”

  Heather’s heart sank at the story, knowing how hard it was to lose someone you loved. Her father and her uncle, Angus, had been gunned down, leaving a devastated family behind. She didn’t believe she’d ever get used to them being gone.

  “And you, Mr. Donahue. Have you family?” Heather asked.

  “I have two older brothers. Although if you asked them, I’m certain they’d find it easy to disavow their association with me.”

  “Surely you’re joking.”

  “Unfortunately, Miss Harris, I’m not. They couldn’t wait for me to leave home and come west.” He glanced around, massaging the back of his neck. “My parents and brothers consider me the black sheep of the family, and for good reason.”

  “And what reason is that?” Heather asked.

  The answer died on his lips at the sound of the front door opening and closing. Heather watched as Ewan and Lorna entered, greeting the family, then walking up to August, who’d been speaking with Ian.

  A few seconds later, Brodie and his wife, Maggie, arrived, making their way straight to Heather’s group. Leaning over to kiss his cousin’s cheek, Brodie looked at Miranda.

  “Miss Harris. It’s good to see you again. This is my wife, Maggie. Maggie, this is the new teacher I spoke of, Miranda Harris.”

  Miranda spoke up first. “It’s a pleasure to meet the wife of our town sheriff. I’m certain you’ll have many interesting stories to tell.”

  Maggie smiled, slipping her arm through her husband’s. “Brodie is quite good at keeping the most interesting stories to himself.”

  As Brodie was about to introduce himself to the man standing with Heather and Miranda, Ewan walked up, extending his hand toward Bay. “Apologies for being late. You must be August’s new partner. I’m Ewan MacLaren.”

  Taking his hand, Bay grinned at the elder MacLaren. “No apology needed, Mr. MacLaren. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Bayard Donahue.”

  Ewan stared at him a moment before his brows lifted. “Bayard Donahue?”

  Bay’s smile faded. “Yes, sir.”

  “The gunfighter?”

  Chapter Four

  Bay’s body stilled as his hand moved to where his gun normally rested on his right hip. August Fielder insisted he didn’t need one around the MacLarens, so he’d tucked it away in his saddlebag a few feet from the front porch. Still, old habits die hard. The lack of his old friend at his side made him feel exposed, vulnerable.

  The sound of boots scuffing along the wooden floor alerted him to the silence Ewan’s question had caused. Bay had hoped to avoid this discussio
n today, knowing his wish was futile.

  Glancing around, he found himself surrounded by questioning looks. The absence of fear surprised him. These people were used to standing up for themselves, refusing to cower to any man or the label given him. Gunfighter, gunman, shootist—he’d been called all these titles at one time or another. He’d never relished any of them.

  “I’ve been called a gunfighter, Mr. MacLaren.”

  Ewan studied him, noting the absence of a gun. In contrast, Brodie, Quinn, and Colin still had theirs strapped around their waists. If Sam Covington, Jinny’s husband, weren’t still in town, he’d be here wearing his.

  “What do you call yourself now, Mr. Donahue?”

  Bay shot a look at August. The man’s face showed more amusement than concern. “A lawyer, sir. The same as Mr. Fielder.”

  Ewan nodded, glancing at Bay’s empty glass. “Then that’s what you are. May I get you another drink?”

  A simple question, yet tensions dissolved, shoulders relaxed, conversations resumed, and Bay’s hand calmed at his side.

  “Yes, sir. I’d appreciate it.” Bay ventured a look at Brodie. “Are you all right with this, Sheriff?”

  A warning appeared in Brodie’s eyes as his lips twisted into a grim smile. “I’ve been looking into your background, Mr. Donahue. There are no wanted posters for the work you’ve done.”

  Ewan walked up, extending the glass of whiskey to Bay, not intruding on the discussion.

  Bay nodded, accepting the drink. “Work. An apt name for the type of assignments I used to take.”

  “As long as your past stays behind you, I’m seeing no problem with you living in Conviction.”

  “Then we are in agreement, Sheriff.”

  “Aye, we are.”

  “Who would like more pie?” Kyla glanced around the table, her gaze landing on Bay. “Mr. Donahue?”

  “No, thank you, ma’am. I couldn’t fit another bite in here.” He patted his stomach, leaning back in his chair.

  “Brodie?”

  “Nae, Aunt Kyla. I’ve had more than I should.” Brodie sat next to Bay, deciding he wanted the time to learn more about the ex-gunfighter turned lawyer.

  “Well now, if the younger men aren’t interested, I suppose it’s up to me to have another slice of your wonderful berry pie, Kyla.” August picked up his plate, passing it down the table to her. When it came back, he took a huge bite, following it with a sip of his second cup of coffee. “We could use cooking like this in Conviction.”

  Kyla laughed. “And what about the Gold Dust restaurant? They offer some very bonny food.”

  Ewan nodded. “Aye, Kyla, but not as good as you and the other lasses make.”

  She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. “You lads will not be charming any of us into opening a new restaurant in town. We’ve more than our share of work here.”

  August finished the last bite of his pie, clearing his throat. “A restaurant is opening in the new hotel. Bay finished the contracts last week.”

  “What hotel?” Heather asked.

  As they’d agreed, she’d taken a seat next to Miranda. Bay sat on her other side. Between the two of them, they’d kept Heather occupied with stories of growing up on the other end of the country. Education, family expectations, social circles—they discussed them all over roast beef, smoked ham, potatoes, squash, cabbage, carrots, and endless cups of coffee. The one topic off limits was Bay’s past as a gunfighter.

  Bay leaned toward her. “The Feather River Hotel, Heather.”

  “It will be the finest establishment in California. Outside of San Francisco, of course.”

  Ian chuckled. “Aye, August, it will.”

  “Who are the owners?” Colin sat with his arm on the back of Sarah’s chair.

  August leaned forward. “The Fleming and Barrow families from San Francisco are the major investors. There are some minority owners here in Conviction.”

  Colin’s eyes narrowed, his gaze moving to his uncles. “Are the MacLarens one of them?”

  “Aye, lad,” Ewan answered.

  “A wee amount, lad.” Ian looked at those around the table, knowing what they were thinking. The MacLarens never made major decisions without discussing them within the family. This time, Ian and Ewan had gone outside the usual routine, making the decision alone.

  The eldest cousins glanced around, a thread of unease building between them.

  Ewan held up a hand, getting their attention. “We’ll be speaking of this later tonight, lads. Ian and I will explain it all.”

  He’d set the boundaries. They wouldn’t be talking of family business in front of their guests, even if August already partnered with them in several investments.

  Before anyone else could respond, the front door burst open. Sam rushed inside, glanced at his wife, Jinny, then at Brodie.

  “We have a problem in town.”

  Standing, Brodie walked up to him, both turning their backs to those at the table. “What is it?”

  Sam ignored the worry he saw in Jinny’s eyes, lowering his voice. “A group of people have taken it upon themselves to cleanse the town.”

  Brodie frowned. “Cleanse the town?”

  Sam shook his head, his lips curled in disgust. “Rid Conviction of the Chinese.”

  “Where’s Jack?” Brodie mentioned the only other deputy. Nate Hollis, a valued member of his group, had left Conviction on personal business a couple weeks before. Until Nate returned, if he returned, protecting the town was left to three men.

  “Right now, people are meeting in the community building. Jack and I watched for an hour, seeing the crowd swell and the voices get louder. Jack stayed, but there isn’t much one man can do if they decide to turn into a mob.”

  Brodie nodded, his fists clenching at his sides.

  “What is it?” Colin walked up beside him, followed by Quinn.

  “There’s a mob forming in town.”

  “For what purpose?” Quinn asked.

  Brodie nodded at Sam, who explained. “There are people who believe the Chinese are taking jobs that should belong to citizens. In particular, men who served in the war and have come west to start over. The docks, Gold Dust, and saloons have all hired Chinese workers. Jack is keeping watch, but the rhetoric is building. I’m afraid it won’t be long before they turn into a mob and march into Chinatown.”

  “Sam and I need to return to town in case that happens.”

  Colin looked at his cousin. “I’ll be going with you, Brodie.”

  “Aye. I’ll be going, too,” Quinn added.

  Sam nodded toward the table. “We need to let our wives know.”

  He and Jinny had been married a short time. She’d planned to ride back into town after supper. Sam had to convince her to ride back with him now, going straight to the house they shared with his son and father. It was far enough from Chinatown his family would be safe from the actions of the mob.

  Brodie nodded. “I’ll let Ian and Ewan know after I let Maggie know we’re leaving. We’ve no time to waste.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the four men, their wives, plus Camden, Sean, Bram, and Fletcher MacLaren rode their horses to Conviction. Brodie hadn’t put up much of a fight when they insisted on going, knowing his brother, Fletcher, and their cousins would only follow. It had been Bay who needed to be talked out of helping. The last person Brodie needed controlling an unruly crowd was an ex-gunfighter, a man who planned to make Conviction his home.

  Heather stood on the front porch, watching them ride off, wishing she was with them.

  “You wish you were going?”

  She turned at Bay’s deep voice, wrapping her arms around her waist. “Aye. It’s hard to stay behind.”

  Bay leaned against a post, his arms crossed over his chest. “I know the feeling. If Brodie hadn’t stopped me, I’d be riding with them.”

  Heather glanced at him, her lips twitching. “It’s best you didn’t. The lads have worked together a long time, can read each other’s thought
s. They’d have no time to be looking out for you.”

  Dropping his arms to his sides, he straightened, lifting a brow at her. “Look out for me?”

  “Aye, Mr. Donahue. They’ve minds of their own. They’d not be wanting you in their way.”

  Bay leaned closer. “May I tell you a secret, Miss MacLaren?”

  She stilled, a shiver running through her as his warm breath washed over her cheek. “Aye.”

  “I’d rather be here, talking with you.”

  She drew back, seeing the twinkle in his eyes, and laughed. “Ach, you’ll not be fooling me, Mr. Donahue. You’d rather be in town with the lads.”

  Scratching his head, Bay let out a breath. “You’ve found me out, Miss MacLaren. Still, I’m not complaining.”

  “Here you two are.” Miranda stepped outside, moving next to Bay. “It’s such a shame the men had to leave so early.”

  “Aye. It’s the way of it out here.”

  Miranda looked at her. “Surely these types of things don’t happen often.”

  Heather eyed the young woman who had to be close to her own age of twenty-one. She couldn’t imagine living where each day was predictable.

  “More often than we’d like.” Heather looked up at the evening sky, wondering what Caleb was doing.

  “It’s too bad Mr. Stewart couldn’t join us. I so looked forward to seeing him again.”

  She winced at Miranda’s comment. In truth, Heather knew Caleb would have wanted to see her, too. “I’ll let him know you’ve come to Conviction.”

  “That would be lovely. Let him know I’ll be at the schoolhouse if he wants to come by and see me.”

  Heather forced a smile. “Aye. I’ll be sure to do that.”

  “It’s time we started back to town.” August walked outside, Kyla beside him.

  Miranda stepped up to her, taking Kyla’s hands. “Thank you so much for your hospitality, Mrs. MacLaren. I had a wonderful time.”

  “Aye, so did we, Miss Harris.”

  August looked at Kyla. “We’ll have to do this again soon. Perhaps supper at my house.”