"It makes sense to me. Newlyweds need their privacy." Camille felt a twinge of envy. If only she could look forward to a day married to a man who loved her like Brogan Hage loved Sarah.
"You'll be my maid of honor, of course. We've already made all the arrangements with the pastor for the ceremony. Now all I have to do is finish my dress."
They continued talking, mostly about the wedding. All the while, Camille could not stop thinking about Lucas and how to dissuade him from attempting to spend more time with her.
Chapter Five
When he spotted Camille walking across the street toward the mercantile, Lucas rushed to her. "Good day, Camille."
She stopped in her tracks and turned her face up to his. "How are you? Have a good day." She attempted to keep walking, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.
"Is something wrong?"
"No, of course not. I'm going to pick up some items and then going back to the shop. I don't want to be away from there too long."
He took her elbow and guided her down the walkway. "We are going for a walk."
"What?" She didn't struggle. Instead, she allowed him to take her in the opposite direction. They walked at a leisurely pace away from the main street to a grassy meadow. She looked across to a pasture and her lips curved. "It's a beautiful day."
"Which makes it a pity for you to remain indoors for most of it." He slid a glance at her noticing the corners of her lips curved into a soft smile. "Admit it."
She pursed her lips and met his gaze. "I did need the fresh air. However, Mr. McKade, I depend on whatever sales I make throughout the day to live on. I don't have the luxury of daily walks or time away because I can lose a sale."
"I will buy some tea then."
The tinkle of laughter made him smile. "Is that so? Which type do you prefer?"
He'd not tasted tea in years and had no idea of the different kinds. So he changed the subject. "How long have you lived here in Silver City?"
Her smile vanished. "Almost five years. I moved here from my family home in Montana. My parents died and I sold the property since it was much too large for me to handle alone."
When she bent to break off some sort of green leaves, Lucas stood alongside her. "So you don't have any siblings?"
"No, I do not." She kept her voice low, seeming to measure each word. Instinct told him she was not telling the truth. Her story was too well practiced, as if she recited it from memory. He let it pass. It was not his business what her life had been like before moving there.
They stopped in the shade of low branches and she pointed at a family of squirrels scampering up a tree when she noticed them. "Look at the babies. They are so tiny."
He wanted to kiss her again, to hold her close and touch the enticing woman who managed to keep a safe distance at all times. Lucas moved closer and took her hand, lifting it to his lips. He brushed a kiss to her knuckles as her wide eyes met his.
"You are good company, Miss Johnston."
When she didn't pull her hand away, he was delighted and continued to hold it in his.
She turned and looked away. "We should head back. I've been gone too long already and still need to go to the mercantile."
"Very well." He finally released her hand, immediately feeling a void. "I will walk you there."
Once he left her at the mercantile, Lucas went to the post office. The postmaster would have any new telegrams that needed his or Brogan's attention.
"Deputy McKade?" A man rushed to him. "I need your assistance.” He recognized the man as a local farmer. "That no good dealing Robinson refuses to pay me and I want you to arrest him for being a lowdown thief."
With a sigh, he followed the man. Some days it seemed people never stopped being idiots.
The darkness made it hard for Camille to see. There were too many shadows as she rushed through the brush to get away from those who chased her.
"I see her," a familiar voice called out. "Camille, you come back here, now." A deeper voice sounded as she drew more energy to run faster.
They were on horseback and would catch up to her. There was little chance to escape if they could see her.
Although she knew this, her fear would not allow her to give up. If there was any way possible to get away, Camille refused to not try.
A low branch scratched her calf. From the sting, the scratch had to be deep, yet she continued on, not stopping. Suddenly it became silent. Not the sounds of horses’ hooves pounding, or the male voices. The only sounds were those of night creatures, crickets and owls.
The darkness overtook until she could not even see her hand in front of her face. A scream caught in her throat. Any sound would bring the pursuers to take chase again.
As terror gripped her, she found it harder to move forward. Something was not right. Had they caught her, knocked her out perhaps? Or was she dead? Fallen to her death, into an endless pit of darkness.
Finally, not able to hold it in, she cried out and jerked up. The familiar surroundings took a few minutes to sink in. And still her heart thudded as she clawed at the blankets, pulling them up over her chest. Sweat trickled down her temples and she let out short breaths.
It had all been a horrible dream. One she'd had often. Each time as awful and real as the last.
Soon the sun would rise but, for the moment, it was too dark for her comfort. Camille reached to her night table and lit the lantern upon it. The light filled her room with a cheery glow and, finally, she was able to let out a breath.
It had been a long time since she'd had this particular dream. It was a warning. She'd remained in Silver City much too long. Before arriving there, she'd moved every few weeks, staying in town just long enough to rest and earn money by healing and selling herbs.
Although she hated life on the run, sometimes she wondered if it was much better than remaining in one place and taking a larger chance that one day her pursuers would come through and recognize her.
She walked to the window and peered down on the slumbering town. Silver City was the first place she'd felt at peace. It was as close to a home as she'd ever known. Although she'd only befriended Sarah Sutherland and Olivia Blakely, the mercantile owner's wife, Camille knew a lot of people by name and had collected a good amount of customers.
No matter how nice it was to be settled, it wasn't worth the chance of one day someone passing through town knowing who she was.
No doubt in her mind, Bill Burns would pay a ransom for anyone returning her. Not because she was family and he cared. He was incapable of that. It was the pure principal of it. No one ever went against Bill Burns' orders, especially family.
Camille closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cool glass just as movement caught her attention.
Saloon girls walked down the street with several men. They laughed at something, the mixture of feminine voices with the deeper ones. The people walked past. It looked as if they headed for the nearby creek. She smiled in spite of her current situation. That group was out to have a good time by the moonlight.
Interesting that she envied the freedom of those now moving out of sight.
A sad thing it was.
Absently, she wondered if Lucas was asleep or if he, too, was restless that night.
Camille shook her head. The musings of a schoolgirl were the things she needed to avoid.
Her heart was fragile when it came to Lucas McKade, which scared her almost as much as the nightmare.
The next morning
"Who's the loud snorer in the cell?" Brogan scowled up at him when Lucas walked into the jailhouse. "You didn't write up anything."
The man was in a bad mood and Lucas wasn't about to ask what caused it. "I did. It's in the top drawer. Drunk and disorderly. Took a swing at me. Brought him in to sleep it off."
When Brogan didn't open the drawer, Lucas walked over, pulled it open and took the sheet of paper out. "Here."
"I'm making a mistake, aren't I?" Brogan asked looking toward the front door. "T
o get married. It's not a good idea. Too many enemies."
The reason for his friend's mood did not surprise Lucas. Since taking notice of Camille, he'd gone back and forth when considering if he should pursue a relationship. "Every day we live as lawmen, we take chances. Can you imagine living without her?"
The Scot remained quiet; his attention remained on the door. "I think it's a stupid idea. I told Sarah last night that I didn't know if it was a good idea to put her in danger."
Lucas' eyebrows rose. "I bet that didn't go over well."
"Not at all." Brogan slumped. "She's very cross with me. Asked me to leave and not speak to her today."
"It's only three weeks until the wedding. You can't very well call it off."
"I don't know what to do." For the first time since knowing him, Lucas wasn't sure what to say. If anything, Brogan was the more self-assured, always in control of the two. However, Lucas understood more than anyone the reason for Brogan's state of mind.
"You should marry her."
There was anxiety in his friend’s gaze. "Why?"
"Because it’s your destiny. Why else would you fall in love? Brogan, you should be dead. When I dragged you here after the shootout, I doubted you'd live long enough to make the trip. But you did. Not only that, you recovered. It’s part of a plan. Besides, none of us are guaranteed tomorrow. No matter what happens, being married to Sarah will be something you'll never regret."
"When did you become so wise?" Brogan's lips curved into a rare smile. "You almost make sense."
Lucas gave his friend a bland look. "I'm just speaking the truth, brother."
"You may want to remember what you said when your turn comes up.” Brogan stood and stretched. "I'll wake up the prisoner and send him on his way."
"I can do it," Lucas said. "Why don't you go speak to Sarah?"
"Not yet. I better give her time to cool down." Brogan shook his head and sat back down. "She's liable to knock me on the head with one of those walking sticks they keep in the clinic."
A lone rider caught Camille's attention. The man was hunched over as if either tired or hurt. When he dismounted, his steps were unsteady. He staggered in the direction of her shop, his watery eyes scanning the buildings. Her heart thumped as she rushed to lock the door and pull the curtains closed. She peeked from a corner of the side window to see the man looking away, as if distracted by someone calling out to him. He weaved unsteadily before going to the side of a post and holding on to it.
Lucas came into view. The men talked for a moment before the stranger slumped over. Lucas caught him and lowered the unconscious man to the ground. The deputy looked up to her window. Hopefully, Lucas wouldn't come and ask for her assistance.
The sick man seemed familiar. She never forgot a face and for some reason, his made her nervous. Whoever the man was, he had to be from her past.
At Lucas' whistle, two men rushed over and, together, the three of them lifted the sick man and carried him away.
Camille let out a long breath. She went to the door to ensure it was latched and then went up the stairs to her living quarters. She'd keep the shop closed. Hopefully, there would be a way to find out if the stranger was gone or maybe even dead before she'd be comfortable enough to open again.
Lucas waited until the doctor examined the sick man. Finally, Dr. Sutherland came out to the front room. "Weak from loss of blood, but he'll make it. Lucky man, the shot went clean through his side."
"Who is he?"
"Says his name is Frederick Williams. From Montana somewhere. Claims to have been shot by men who held him up about twenty miles from here."
There was coughing from the examining room, but it soon quieted. "Seems interesting he rode past your clinic and didn't stop.” Lucas walked toward the small examination room to find Williams lying flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling.
"Mr. Williams, I hear you'll be all right."
The man's narrowed eyes slid to look at him. "Is that so? Who are you?"
"Deputy McKade."
"I owe you. Doc says I wouldn't have made it if it weren't for you bringing me here." The man's face was shiny with perspiration. He was still quite sick.
"Just be sure to take care of yourself. Glad I could help.” Lucas was about to turn when the man spoke again. "You ride with a Scotsman. That's you ain't it?"
An icy trail rode up his spine. "How do you know this?"
"I heard is all." The man's coughs were dry and hard. "If I were you, I'd tread carefully. Never know who's coming for ya."
He neared the man and peered down at him. "What have you heard?"
"Could be tomorrow or maybe a month from now. Could be any day, I don't know for sure. But there's word Bill Burns wants you for killin' his son."
"You seemed to know a lot for someone just hearing."
It was then the man's true nature shined through. His eyes were sharp, flat and darkened, the look of a man who'd killed many. "I didn't have to say what I did. Only did so because you saved my life, and because I hate the bastard. I don't ride with Bill Burns. Don't want nothin' to do with 'im."
"Is he the one who shot you?"
The man turned his head to face the wall. The conversation was over.
When Lucas turned to leave, the doctor stood at the doorway, his expression grim. No doubt, he considered what the repercussions of the conversation he overheard were for his daughter.
"I won't say anything to Sarah," he said, looking past Lucas to the man on the bed. "Just make sure Brogan comes to talk to her today."
"I will," Lucas assured the doctor and rushed from the clinic to the jailhouse. He found that Brogan had remained sitting behind the desk reading some papers.
The Scotsman looked up when Lucas entered. "Got a telegram from Boise. A judge will be coming next month. From what I understand, he's planning to make Silver City his home."
"That will come in handy. Not having to take prisoners to stand trial, or hold them until a judge comes will be good." Lucas closed the door and neared his friend.
Obviously, the look on his face was strained by the change in Brogan, who straightened and narrowed his eyes. "Something wrong?"
"You can say that. I just found a man shot by an old friend of ours. Claims Bill Burns is asking information about me."
Brogan exhaled, his face like stone. "I wondered how long it would be before he came. We should have gone further than this town."
"It's me he wants, not you. I'm the one who shot his son. Besides, we have prior warning, have to keep our ears and eyes open," Lucas told him.
When his friend waited for him to continue he did. "I'm not running from anyone. Seems as if Burns would be more careful when recruiting men for whatever he's planning. News like that travels fast."
"Probably up to something besides killing us.” Brogan lifted his cup of coffee and drank from it. It always amazed Lucas how calm his friend remained in the face of danger, when he'd been so distraught earlier when considering his beloved. He'd learned a lot from Brogan over the years they'd known each other. However, Lucas' heart thudded in his ears at the prospect of a shootout. It was one thing to happen upon an incident. Preparing for one, knowing it was coming, was different.
Lucas went to the stove and lifted the coffee pot. He poured coffee wishing it was whiskey instead.
Once he had his cup in hand, he sat on the opposite side of the desk where Brogan has spread out a map of Silver City. Both men studied the map, gauging which direction the outlaws would come in and how best to thwart their plans.
"We'll gather up a few deputies, scout around town just to be safe. When they come, I'd rather not let them get into town.” Lucas pointed at an area just west of town. "It's hilly here. We can camp out and, hopefully, catch sight of them coming."
"That's only if we get word they are," Brogan said. "We need to send a scout out."
How long before they set out and when to do it was the problem. Lucas leaned back, the chair creaking at his shift. "When do you t
hink we should head out?"
"Not sure. Maybe Burns is going to bide his time, keep us on edge."
"I say we go find him then."
"It's a good idea," Brogan said and let out a breath. "I suppose I better tell Sarah. I'll go speak to the Cartwright brothers. You want to go see about Marcus Dolby and Robert Jones?"
"Will do. Let's meet here in a couple hours with our supplies."
As Lucas headed down the walkway to get his horse, he considered speaking to Camille. But upon thinking about it, he changed his mind. There really wasn't any reason to worry her about outlaws being about. She was already skittish enough.
Then again, what if he didn't return?
Chapter Six
Camille couldn't remain locked up any longer. After dressing and eating breakfast, she went down to the shop. Outside, the town was just coming awake, only a few people mingled about. The mercantile owner stopped sweeping the front of his store and waved to someone in greeting.
A lone wagon piled high with hay rolled at a leisurely pace toward the stables. It was the time of day she usually enjoyed, but today, apprehension gripped her.
The man she'd seen the day before was an acquaintance of Bill Burns. More of an adversary than friend. Williams owned some land near where she grew up, land Burns had taken from him after the man lost a gambling debt. Since then, they'd feuded for years, unlike her own uncle who'd sold out to Bill Burns and counted him as a friend.
Although she didn't figure he'd remember her, it was a chance she was not willing to take. Somehow, she'd find a way to speak to Lucas and find out if the man remained in town.
"Good morning." Lucas McKade appeared on the other side of the window and she jumped back. His lazy smile put her instantly at ease.
She unlocked the door and opened it. "You startled me. How did you sneak up without me seeing you?"
"I caught sight of you and came from the side. You scare easily.” He chuckled in mirth at his antics.
Camille pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. "That's not very gentlemanly of you."
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