“Don’t be coming any closer.” Heather glanced at Emma, seeing the worry on her face. Both knew the trail they rode went straight to the Pearce ranch with one narrow fork going to town. Only the Pearce family and other locals knew of the rough trail. The man could only be coming from Emma’s parents’ place.
He reined his horse back a few feet, then held up his hands.
“Where are you coming from?” Emma asked, her arms quivering under the weight of the rifle.
The man scanned the trail behind them, glad to see they were alone.
Lowering his hands, the man rested one on his thigh, not far from the gun strapped around his waist. “The Pearce place. I had some business with Big Jim and his foreman.”
“What kind of business?”
His gaze shifted between the two before landing on Emma. A feral smile spread across his face. “Well, now, I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
Heather’s aim moved to the man’s chest. “We’ll be deciding that for ourselves.” She saw the hand on his thigh twitch. “Don’t you be moving any closer to your gun.”
Raising his hand, he clasped the saddle horn.
“At least he’s not a complete eejit,” Heather whispered to Emma. “What was your business with Big Jim and Boyd?”
“Talking land and cattle, nothing more, li’l lady. Big Jim has land and I have money to invest. A business proposition.”
Heather cringed at the look on his face. He’d said nothing to warn them off, yet she couldn’t help feeling the threat he presented.
“My guess is they sent you on your way.” Emma lowered the rifle enough to give her arms a rest.
“You must know them.”
Emma wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk off his face. “Everyone in these parts knows Big Jim and Gertie. And everyone also knows they have no desire to move off the ranch.”
He nodded, leaning forward. “That’s what they told me. Seems I’ll be taking my money somewhere else.”
Emma shook her head. “Not on this trail. You’d do well to turn around. Just before the Pearce ranch, there’s a narrow trail going southwest. It’ll take you to town.”
Scorn twisted his lips. “I heard this was the way to the Circle M.”
“You heard wrong.” Emma moved her rifle, indicating he should move along. “We’ll be coming behind you, so don’t think about turning back this way.”
“You ladies aren’t being too hospitable now, are you? I heard people were real friendly in these parts.”
“You must have heard wrong.” Shamrock began to dance around, making it hard for Heather to hold her aim. When the man shifted in the saddle, she shot a worried look at Emma, seeing her raise the rifle back up.
Emma directed her aim at his heart. “It’s time you headed off.”
For a long moment, the man didn’t move, his eyes narrowing to slits. An instant later, the hard lines on his face softened before he threw back his head and laughed.
“You ladies aren’t much for bargaining, so I guess I’ll head back. Southwest at the fork?”
“Aye, that’s what she said.” Heather let out a relieved sigh when he picked up the reins, turning his horse around. Just as he was about to ride off, she called out to him. “What’s your name?”
He shifted in the saddle, jaw tight, his features hard as granite, lips curling into a sneer. In Heather’s mind, the look represented pure evil.
“Black.”
“That’s all he said?” Emma sat next to her father, Heather on her side, and the foreman, Boyd Doggett, across from them.
Big Jim Pearce nodded. “Told me and Boyd he came into some money and was looking for land. I told him my price. He countered with an amount so low I almost threw him out right then. I wasn’t interested in haggling any further with someone out to steal my land.” He glanced at Heather. “Although I might consider letting the MacLarens steal it someday.” The big man winked at her, earning himself a smile. Everyone knew their ranch would pass to Emma. As Quinn’s wife, the ranch would essentially be operated by the MacLaren family.
“Now, Big Jim, you stop teasing poor Heather.” His wife, Gertie, walked in from the kitchen, placing glasses of lemonade in front of each of them, looking at her husband. “Are you certain it was the same man who came by here?”
Downing the lemonade in a few big gulps, Big Jim nodded. “Called himself Black. Don’t think there are two men like him in this area.”
“Have you ever seen him before?”
“No, Emma, and neither has Boyd.”
Emma’s gaze shot to the foreman, a man she’d grown to respect. “What did you think of him?”
Shrugging, Boyd leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Tallest man I’ve seen in a long time. Imposing. Wears his gun low, which had me on edge.”
Heather’s eyes widened. “Do you think he’s a gunfighter?”
“Could be. More like a gun for hire. I’m thinking that’s where he came up with all this money he’s itching to spend.” Unlike Big Jim, Boyd took slow sips of his lemonade, his eyes narrowed, as if in concentration. “I was ready for him to leave before he got off his horse.”
Gertie snorted. “Takes you a long time to warm up to anyone, Boyd.”
“True enough, but this one’s trouble. Did you say he took off toward town?” Boyd looked at Emma, taking another swallow of lemonade.
“He took off at a gallop and got so far ahead, we didn’t see him make the turn. All I know is he didn’t come back our way.”
Big Jim leaned back in his chair. “Black isn’t the reason you rode all the way out here. What’s going on?”
Heather rolled the glass between the palms of her hands. “We’ve lost more cattle.”
Big Jim lifted a brow. “More rustlers?”
“Poison.” Heather’s response got everyone’s attention. “At least Sean thinks it is. We lost twelve head, five were heifers almost ready to drop.”
“Damn…” Boyd muttered, rubbing a hand along his chin.
“The uncles asked us to come warn you and see if you might have any men to spare until Colin hires more lads to help us.”
“They asking in town, Heather?” Boyd asked.
“Aye. He and Sean rode to town this morning. Colin will be looking for at least six.”
Big Jim looked at Boyd. “What do you think?”
Boyd thought a minute, his jaw working as he considered how they’d be able to help. “I’ll ride over. You can spare me for a couple days. That will give Colin a chance to hire some more men.”
Nodding, Big Jim laid his hands on the table and pushed up. “You can ride back with Emma and Heather, assuming they plan to return to Circle M today.”
“We do, Papa.”
Boyd stood, heading toward the door. “Then I’ll grab the gear I’ll need and saddle my horse. I’ll also let the men know what’s going on. Give me thirty minutes.”
“You get yourself ready, Boyd. I’ll talk to the men. I’d feel better knowing you’ll get back to Circle M well before dark.” Big Jim grabbed his cane, following Boyd outside.
When the door closed, Emma looked at her mother. “How’s Papa doing?”
Fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth, Gertie shook her head. “Not good. He seems to get weaker every day.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t be taking Boyd with us.” Heather gathered the empty glasses, placing them on a tray. “We can make do without him.”
“No. Your family needs help. If I know my husband, he wants Boyd to go. If he could, Big Jim would go himself.”
“Has he seen a doctor lately?”
“Doc Vickery or Doc Tilden rides out about every two weeks to check on him, although I hate to trouble them. If only he’d agree to ride in with me.” Sighing, Gertie stared out the window. “He’s putting up a strong front today, but as soon as you leave, he’ll lay down and not get up for hours, maybe not until tomorrow morning. He sleeps downstairs most nights because he can’t climb the stairs. His
appetite is gone, so he keeps losing weight.” Closing her eyes, she tried to will her tears away, but they wouldn’t obey. Breathing out a shaky sigh, she swiped the moisture from her cheek. Even in the worst of times, Gertie always held herself together, refusing to be anything but strong.
Emma’s heart broke, knowing what it cost her mother to show weakness in front of her and Heather. Reaching out, she placed her hand over her mother’s. “You can’t lose hope, Mama. What if we took him to San Francisco, had another doctor look at him?”
“I’ve tried. He simply refuses to go. Says when it’s his time, he’ll accept whatever God decides, and for me to accept it, too. Sometimes I just don’t understand the man.”
“Ach.” Heather waved a hand in the air. “All lads are too stubborn. I’m thinking their pride and stubbornness will be the end of most of them.”
Emma put a hand in front of her mouth to hide a grin. “You’re not thinking of one man in particular, are you?”
Biting her lip, Heather stood, picking up the tray, ignoring the question.
“I’m ready to go when you two are.” They hadn’t even heard Boyd come through the door.
“We’re ready.” Standing, Emma walked around the table, giving her mother a hug. “I’ll come visit again as soon as I can. Maybe between the two of us, we can talk Papa into making the trip to San Francisco.”
Gertie dropped her arms from around her daughter, taking a step back. “Come visit, but we won’t waste our time trying to convince him to go. The doctors here are real good and he trusts them.”
“If that’s what you want, Mama.”
Walking to them, Heather hugged Gertie. “We’d best be leaving. I know the lads will appreciate Boyd’s help.”
Following them out, Gertie watched while Emma said goodbye to her father, then waved as the three rode away.
Taking slow, measured steps up to the porch, letting the cane provide support, Big Jim stood next to Gertie. Putting an arm around her, he pulled her close.
“Our girl’s all grown up.”
“That she is, Gertie. And I couldn’t be more proud of her.”
Leaning up, she kissed his cheek. “I’d best get inside and finish fixing dinner. The men will be hungry soon.”
Closing the door behind her, Gertie thought of her husband’s failing health and all the trouble at the Circle M. A flash of fear speared through her, causing her to stop.
In her heart, she knew it wouldn’t be long before she lost Big Jim. It hadn’t occurred to her she might lose her daughter, too. With all the trouble, including the shooting Emma played a part in, her mouth suddenly went dry. She’d already lost her son. Certainly, she couldn’t lose all her family.
The thought haunted her through the rest of the day and into the early evening. At bedtime, she knelt, clasped her hands together, and prayed harder than she’d done in a long while.
Chapter Seventeen
Conviction
Bay studied the document once more, rubbing his brows as he concentrated on the numbers. Whoever gave this to him had gone to a lot of trouble and had access to more than would be available in one place. He’d first thought it came from one source. Now he wasn’t so certain. The bigger puzzle was the information had been given to him.
Pushing away from his desk, Bay shrugged into his coat, folded the paper, and slid it into a pocket. Checking the time on the tall grandfather clock, he winced. It was too late to find who he sought at their office. He’d have to wait until tomorrow.
August and Jasper left earlier, leaving him to lock the office, which suited him fine. He preferred working in the quiet evenings when the others had gone home. Tonight, though, he felt agitation coil within him. Cattle were dying, people were being threatened, and he didn’t have the answers he sought.
His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten for hours. Instead of riding back to August’s, hoping the cook would prepare him something, he reined his horse past the almost finished Feather River Hotel. Dimly lit lanterns were still ablaze inside, casting light on a lone figure huddled over a table. A figure he knew all too well.
He’d avoided Suzette since she’d arrived, refusing to discuss their past with August while doing his best to forget she’d traveled across the country to work at the new restaurant. Somehow, August discovered they had a past and hired her, thinking Bay would be pleased with the decision. Given the way they parted, he doubted Suzette would’ve been the one to tell him.
Unlike him, he felt certain she knew who awaited her in Conviction. He had no idea why she wanted to be near him and, after all this time, didn’t care. Bay wanted nothing more than to avoid crossing her path.
Stopping in front of the Gold Dust, he slid to the ground, tossing the reins over the rail. As he stepped onto the boardwalk, he had a clear view of those inside the restaurant, a tiny smile forming when he saw the man he sought. Maybe tonight would turn out fine.
“Do you mind if I join you?” Bay stood next to the table in the dining room, his hand resting on the back of a chair.
Setting down his cup of coffee, Philip Aunspach stood, his hand stretched toward the chair. “Please do. It would be a pleasure to have company. Most nights I eat alone at the boardinghouse or here.”
“Neither are bad choices.”
“But the restaurant in the new hotel will be better.” Philip sat back down, draping the napkin across his lap.
“Why are you so certain?” Bay asked, then wished he hadn’t. The answer seemed clear in Philip’s eyes.
“Have you met the woman who’ll be managing it?” He didn’t wait for Bay to answer. “If her beauty is any indication of her culinary skills, I believe we’re looking at a future of fine dining.”
“As good as you found in San Francisco?” Bay asked.
Philip nodded. “Possibly. I’ll give you my opinion once it opens.”
“You’ve met her then?”
“I stopped by this morning to introduce myself. She’s, well…”
“Distant?”
Philip snapped his fingers. “Yes. Professional, courteous, but distant. Sounds as if you’ve had the pleasure of meeting her.”
Bay had no intention of opening up about his past with Suzette. “Briefly. August and I met her when the steamer docked.”
The server appeared, preventing Philip from responding. “What may I get you?”
“Coffee and the same as what Mr. Aunspach is having.”
Making a quick note on a piece of paper, the young man nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Bay waited until he hurried off, relaxing back in the seat. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, find out how you’re doing at the bank.”
“Checking on your competition?”
Chuckling, Bay shook his head. “It’s my boss who owns a good portion of the Bank of Conviction, not me.”
“True, but I’m certain you’ve already made a commitment to his bank.” Philip shrugged. “I’d do the same in your position.”
“Ah, now, that’s where you’re wrong. I’ve an account there, of course, but the remainder of my funds are still in another bank back east. I believe it’s always good to weigh your options, especially in a new town. Don’t you agree, Philip?”
His face sobered. “Why, yes. I’ve come to believe that more and more since arriving in Conviction. The longer I’m here, the more fascinating the inner workings of a small town become.”
Both men paused as the server appeared with Bay’s meal and coffee.
“Here you are, sir. Let me know if I can get you anything else.”
Nodding at him, Bay inhaled the rich aroma of stew. “Their selection is small, but the food is usually good.” Taking a bite, he chewed slowly, then swallowed. “Refresh my memory. How long have you been with San Francisco Merchant Bank?”
“Three years, all of it in San Francisco. I never intended to leave, but the opportunity here came up, and…well...” He shrugged, letting the thought trail off.
Scooping up some potatoe
s, Bay nodded. “And you’ve been in Conviction a few months?”
“That’s right. Mr. Delacroix has been extremely supportive since my first day with the bank. He made certain the other executives knew who I was and understood my capabilities. And even though there were several gentlemen who’d been with the bank longer, he’s also the one who convinced the board I was the right choice to take over as manager in Conviction.”
“Interesting. And now Delacroix is here. Isn’t it unusual for a board member to travel out to a remote location such as Conviction?”
Something in Bay’s tone had Philip on edge. Forcing himself to relax, his gaze darted around the restaurant, as if he had to be careful about what he said.
“Perhaps. The man has strong connections in San Francisco.” Philip paused a moment before saying more. “In truth, his wife is the one with the money and social influence. I believe her uncle is a major shareholder and is also on the board.”
“I’m certain you’re quite loyal to Delacroix.”
“As much as you are to August Fielder.”
Picking up his coffee, Bay cradled the cup, considering Philip’s comment. “I’ve known him a long time. He’s a good man. I’ve found no reason not to be loyal.” He watched as Philip’s throat worked, his jaw tensing. Pinning him with a hard glare, Bay cocked his head to one side. “I’m sure you can say the same of your boss.”
Unable to meet Bay’s pointed stare, Philip looked down at his plate. Setting down his fork, he lifted his head. “Delacroix is a complicated man. Let’s say I’m still learning about him.”
“Fair enough.” Taking a few more bites, Bay pushed his plate away. “I’m certain you’ve heard about the troubles at the Circle M.”
Picking up his coffee cup, Philip shrugged. “The same as everyone in town, I heard about the shooting of six men.”
“Rustlers,” Bay corrected.
“Yes, rustlers. If rumor is to be believed, the MacLaren women played a part in the men’s deaths.”
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