by Carol Finch
Millie Roberts glanced out the window to see three well-dressed riders dismount in front of Bennigan’s Trading Post. She didn’t recognize the men, but she’d seen their counterparts around here before. Pinkertons. This was one of their favorite stops while investigating high-profile cases for the government or their wealthy clients. Millie saw Julius Tanner scowl when he, too, spotted the new arrivals.
“What the hell are they doing here?” Julius grumbled as he stretched his stiff leg beneath the dining table.
“Don’t know who they’d be tracking,” Pierce Hayden replied between bites of Opal’s delicious food.
Millie refilled the marshals’ coffee cups, but her attention was glued to the three men who filed into the dining hall to survey the local patrons and stage passengers. When one of the men—the tall good-looking one—glanced in her direction, she flashed him a seductive smile. Millie struck her best pose—chest thrust out, one hip cocked—as the three men headed straight toward her.
To her dismay the Pinkertons were more interested in the badges pinned to Julius’s and Pierce’s shirts.
“We’re looking for information, gentlemen,” Agent Richard Sykes—the handsome one—said without preamble. “Have you seen Marshal Cale Elliot lately?”
“Or his wife?” Agent Gilmore added. “Blonde? Extremely attractive?”
Julius propped his elbows on the table, then shrugged noncommittally. “What do you boys want with Elliot?”
“This has more to do with his new wife,” Agent Williams said impatiently. “Her father posted a thousand dollar reward for information that will lead us to her.”
A thousand dollars! Millie’s head spun like a cyclone. With that kind of money she could make a fresh start in civilized society. She was wasting away in this wilderness, and she certainly had no loyalty to Cale after he’d betrayed her by marrying that prissy bitch.
“Cale and Hanna Elliot were here last week,” Millie blurted out. “For a thousand dollars, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“Damn it, Millie,” Julius growled at her.
She ignored Julius and shook loose from his firm grasp on her arm. If he thought clamping hold of her was going to prevent her from offering information, then he thought wrong.
Agent Sykes perked up immediately. “You’ve seen them? In person? Did they have that man-eating mutt with them?”
“Millie…” Pierce said warningly.
She ignored that, too, and nodded. “Definitely in person and with the dog,” she confirmed. “They spent the night here, and then followed the southbound stage that was headed to Texas.” She went on, despite the marshals’ glares that branded her a traitor. What did she care what they thought? She was getting herself a ticket out of this backwoods post and she was latching on to it with both hands. “Word came back from down the line that Elliot foiled a stage holdup.” She gestured toward the stockade. “The three bandits were delivered yesterday. These marshals are planning to head back to their base camp with their prisoners, first thing in the morning.”
The Pinkertons glared down at the uncooperative marshals and the marshals glared right back. Clearly, there was professional rivalry between these two groups of law officials. Not that she cared about their obvious hostility. All she wanted was the reward for her information.
Before Millie could think of something else to add to her report, Elmer Linden lumbered to the table and thrust his beefy arm toward Julius.
“Got a strange message here, Julius. See if you can make sense of it.” Elmer pivoted toward the new arrivals. “Pinkertons, right? Which one of you is Richard Sykes? Got a message for you, too.”
Without the slightest change of expression, Julius read the telegram, then handed it to Pierce, who showed no reaction in turn. Agent Sykes, however, read his own missive, then scowled.
Millie had no idea what was going on, but all she wanted was the solemn promise that she’d receive reward money. She stared pointedly at Agent Sykes. “I cooperated fully and I demand to be paid.”
Richard Sykes fished into his vest pocket to retrieve the crisp banknotes. He counted them into Millie’s hot little hand and her fist closed up like an oyster around its pearl. She was free at last! Free to begin a new life, and she didn’t have to latch on to a man to find security.
Millie plunked down the coffeepot and wheeled toward Elmer. “I quit. I plan to be on the stage that leaves within the hour.”
While Elmer sputtered in disbelief, Millie barreled toward her cramped living quarters behind the trading post to pack her bags. It would serve that prissy blonde right when the Pinkertons caught up with her and dragged her back to her father. As for Cale, he deserved to lose his fancy meal ticket. Millie had known there had to be a specific reason why Cale had up and married that woman, who was impossibly wrong for him.
It was all about money, Millie mused. Wasn’t it always?
Grinning triumphantly, she tucked the banknotes in her chemise and gathered her meager belongings.
Julius Tanner swore under his breath when Agent Sykes waved the telegram under his nose. “So, what do you want me to do, Sykes? Read the damn thing for you?”
Agent Sykes glowered at Julius, then spared Pierce a condescending glance when he had the audacity to snicker. “Hanna Malloy is in Texas. We’ve just had that confirmed by her father. Now then, would you care to tell us exactly where to find her?”
“Malloy?” Pierce hooted, eyes bulging. “The shipping magnate Malloy? That Malloy?”
“The one and only,” Agent Williams confirmed. He stared curiously at the telegram Pierce had wadded up in his fist. “We showed our missive to you. Perhaps you’d like to show yours to us.”
“Whatever gave you that idea?” Julius smirked. “It’s got nothing to do with your investigation.”
“No?” Agent Sykes said dubiously. “Why don’t I believe that?”
“I dunno, why don’t you?” Julius countered sarcastically.
The rejoinder earned him three annoyed glowers. Arrogant bunch, thought Julius. So full of themselves that it was a wonder they weren’t floating sky-high like balloons. Always thought they were a step above deputy marshals. Well-dressed in their dandified suits and derby hats. Well-paid. Well, tough. Julius’s and Pierce’s allegiance was to Cale Elliot. The man had saved their bacon recently and patched up Julius when he was bleeding all over the place.
“There is still considerable reward money left,” Agent Sykes said, baiting them. “I know exactly how much you gentlemen make to risk your life for Judge Parker, and it isn’t much. You could live a life of leisure on what Walter Malloy will pay for your information and cooperation.”
Julius didn’t so much as blink. Millie might have sold out Cale, but he and Pierce wouldn’t do it. Nope. According to Hanna’s peculiar missive, Cale needed assistance, and he was sure as hell going to get it. These pompous Pinkertons weren’t going to turn them against one of their own kind.
“If you must know, that telegram was from my baby sister,” Julius said. “It’s personal. Now why don’t you boys back off and let me and Pierce eat our meal in peace? We’ve got prisoners to cart back to the base camp…for damn little pay, don’tcha know.”
The Pinkertons stared at him, but Julius ignored them and gobbled his meal. He and Pierce had arrangements to make if they were going to hotfoot it to Cromwell, Texas, to offer backup for whatever calamity had befallen the newlyweds.
“Hanna Malloy?” Julius shook his head in disbelief after the Pinkertons strutted off. “A half-breed Cherokee bounty hunter and deputy marshal married to a shipping heiress?”
“Boggles the mind, don’t it?” Pierce murmured.
Sure ’nuff did. Yet, oddly enough, after seeing Hanna and Cale together, discovering how attentive they were to each other, Julius thought it was kinda touching. Romantic, even.
No matter what had motivated them to get hitched in a rush, there was something between them. Julius would be damned if he’d see that spoiled and se
vered by Hanna’s bribe-wielding father and a few hoity-toity Pinkertons.
“You send off a telegram to have the other marshals swing down to pick up our prisoners,” Julius murmured quietly to Pierce. “I’ll make a big production of limping upstairs to take a nap, then I’ll grab our saddlebags. I’ll take the short way down from the window and we’ll be Texas bound.”
“You got it, partner.” Pierce smiled conspiratorially. “But we don’t have Judge Parker’s permission to go haring off to Texas.”
“Do we need it?” Julius asked in feigned ignorance. “Don’t recall anything about that in the code manual. Must’ve missed that part.”
Pierce grinned as he rose to his feet. “We better split up to give the Pinkertons a run for their money. I’ll meet you at the Red River ferry at dawn. Make sure you shake those bloodhounds off your heels before we rendezvous.”
Chapter Fourteen
Cale was amazed at how quickly and eagerly Hanna absorbed knowledge about the various weapons he’d bought to stock the shop. She insisted on knowing the advantages, disadvantages and purposes of every variety of pistol, rifle and shotgun so she could convey the information to potential customers.
The men who came to browse were reluctant to allow Hanna to wait on them. But it only took a few minutes for them to realize she’d become a weapons expert. Her astounding abilities freed up time for Cale to make discreet inquiries around town about Otis Pryor’s initial arrival. At first the townsfolk were reluctant to divulge information. It was obvious that they feared for their lives and their businesses.
Arliss Fenton, the telegraph agent, was more courageous than most. He chafed at having private telegrams screened by Marshal Vickers and Otis Pryor. Arliss suggested an evening rendezvous so he could speak freely about the goings-on in Cromwell.
While Hanna was recording the information Cale had relayed to her, he ventured off to meet Arliss near the river. The red-haired young man confirmed Otis’s arrival in town five years earlier, in addition to four scraggly looking scoundrels—Sam Vickers, for one—who demanded that shopkeepers pay monthly fees for protection against the criminal elements—namely themselves.
According to Arliss, several town founders had loudly protested the strong-arm tactics—and then mysteriously disappeared. Otis’s men took over the vacated businesses and within a year Otis had supposedly purchased the prosperous ranch and equipped it with several hundred head of cattle and horses. The former owner and his wife, Otis claimed, had decided to move west to be near their married son and grandchild.
Cale didn’t believe that for a moment. And neither did Arliss, obviously. The former owners had likely been victimized, the same way Cale’s half brother and sister-in-law had. What Otis Pryor wanted he simply took by force. He had acquired the manpower to see that his will was done.
“In case you haven’t noticed,” Arliss said quietly, then glanced around when he heard a bird chirp in the distance, “the town marshal has been keeping close watch on you. He’s been in my office twice a day to see if your wife has sent other messages.”
Cale inwardly grimaced. He had been afraid that Hanna’s missives had raised the wrong eyebrows. What he didn’t need was for Otis to be on the alert for possible trouble.
“I appreciate your assistance, Arliss,” Cale said gratefully. “It’s always best to know your potential enemies so you can be prepared for trouble.”
Arliss’s young face scrunched up in a scowl. “My father owned the shop you’ve rented. He tried to bring legal charges against Otis.” There was a long pause before he added, “My father hasn’t been seen or heard from in almost three years, and my mother still hasn’t recovered from her grief. I don’t know if you plan to do anything about our resident devil and his ghouls, but I’ll do whatever necessary to assist you.”
Arliss looked him straight in the eye. “And by the way, if you’re nothing more than a shopkeeper I will eat my hat—whole.”
Cale chuckled at his newfound ally. “Perhaps I’m just a concerned citizen who wants to ensure peace in this town where I’ve decided to settle down.”
“A concerned citizen who is giving his lovely wife shooting lessons?”
Cale’s smile turned upside down.
Arliss waved his hand dismissively. “Not to worry. You’ve timed the lessons well. The town marshal is usually disgustingly drunk by eight o’clock, and so are Pryor’s other spies and informants. I’ve followed you to the river twice, but I kept my distance from your sharp-eyed dog. No one else knows you’ve been taking target practice and I’m not planning to tell another living soul.”
That came as a relief. Cale was glad to know this young man, who had his own score to settle with Otis Pryor and his goons, was guarding his back.
“You should know that the barber and baker will also do what they can for you, but they aren’t particularly skilled with weapons, either,” Arliss imparted.
“So I discovered when they purchased pistols. I should have sold them shotguns.” Cale stared somberly at Arliss. “I’ll do all I can to remove the threat Otis poses, but I have one request of you.”
Arliss came to immediate attention. “Name it, my friend.”
“If anything happens to me, I’m counting on you to see that Hanna gets on the westbound stage.”
Arliss clasped Cale’s hand firmly and met his gaze directly. “You have my word on that. It’s obvious that you have the same kind of love and devotion for Hanna that my father had for my mother.”
Cale was still standing there with his jaw scraping his chest when Arliss skulked off into the underbrush. Good gad, Cale was a better actor than he thought if he’d convinced that attentive young whelp that he was hopelessly in love. True, he’d let himself think differently, act differently when he’d crossed over into husband territory. He’d also taken great pains in portraying the devoted husband in public, and he’d let himself get caught up in his role in the charade. But this was only make-believe and there were definite time limits.
He might be suffering the most incredible case of lust he’d ever experienced—which he obviously was—but he couldn’t be in love with Hanna. He wasn’t even sure he was capable of love, having seen so little evidence of it in his life. He could be Hanna’s lover, her confidant, her protector and friend. But he couldn’t actually love her because they had no future. He’d come to care about her and she’d come to depend on him. But Hanna wanted to chase her dreams and he had to let her be what she was meant to be. Furthermore, Cale had made a commitment—the incarceration of Otis Pryor and his band of murdering thieves. That’s all he’d lived for these past five years.
Had Cale given Hanna the impression that he was in love with her? Had she drawn the same conclusions as Arliss had because he did treat her differently than any other woman he’d known?
Cale decided it was time for him to pull back and regroup. He had to put these unproductive and conflicting emotions that had Hanna’s name attached to them under lock and key—where they should’ve been in the first place. It was time to focus on his promise to avenge his brother’s death; he couldn’t allow himself to become distracted from his life’s purpose.
Hounded by Arliss’s observations and conclusions, Cale hiked back to town to retrieve his horse. He had bottles of whiskey to spike with sleeping potion. He needed to keep Otis rattled and off balance, and that meant ensuring the night watchmen were asleep at their posts when a few more cattle strayed from their pastures.
Resolutely, Cale trotted away from town to undermine the workings of Pryor’s ranch. In love? Impossible! He couldn’t let himself be that foolish. It wouldn’t do him or Hanna a bit of good. This was temporary, he reminded himself again. Any feelings he and Hanna had for each other had to end the moment the terms of their bargain were met.
Hanna stirred drowsily when she heard the bed creak, and felt the warm presence slide in beside her. She’d waited up as long as she could, but exhaustion had overtaken her and she’d crawled into bed. Cale said not
one word as he settled next to her. He didn’t loop his arm over her hip or press a featherlight kiss to the curve of her neck, as he’d made a habit of doing lately.
She turned toward him, seeking the closeness they’d shared each night. “I trust you haven’t been out this late because you’re seeing another woman,” she murmured teasingly as her hand drifted across the wide expanse of his chest.
“No, go back to sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
There was something in his voice, a quality she couldn’t decipher, that alarmed her. Her eyes shot open and her wandering hand stilled on his chest. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. It’s been a long tiring night is all.”
Hanna didn’t believe him. She could feel the return of the emotional distance that had become nonexistent this past week. He’d made love with her every night, and suddenly this big brawny hulk of man was too tired? Well, they’d see about that, she decided as her hand ventured over the washboard muscles of his belly.
Cale grabbed her hand. “Hanna, don’t,” he said, pulling away.
He was rejecting her? Why? Dear God, had he tired of her already? The thought crushed her, devastated her. She knew he didn’t love her, but she knew he desired her, cared about her in his own way. What in heaven’s name had happened?
Hanna scooted sideways to provide him with more bed space, then wrapped her arms around herself as if to ward off the hurt. She squeezed her eyes shut and told herself to go to sleep. But she kept asking herself what she’d done or said to make Cale withdraw from her.
They’d been so close, had been through so much together. They were comrades fighting a battle to serve justice. And then wham, he didn’t want her physically and had become emotionally remote. Was this another of the many lessons he was trying to teach her? Well, she didn’t get it.
Three hours later, while listening to Cale’s methodic breathing, Hanna still didn’t get it. She did, however, realize that she’d come full circle—from feeling rejected to determined acceptance. Whatever the reason for Cale’s sudden lack of interest, it was better this way, she told herself.
