Sundown (6 page)

“Whatever happened between you and that fugitive dies here and now, do you understand?”

Arabella held her breath. 

By answering her father, she admitted
nothing but
the truth.  Instead, she stood to her feet and dusted her skirts before following him to the door. 

Outside, the v
ibrant sky rolled back
like a royal blue carpet.  Gazing at its vast wondrous expanse, the warmth of the afternoon sun grazed her face, soothing away the worry she felt etched there.  Feeling her heart constrict, she heard an inner voice chastise her
imprudent
sense of reason. 

You little fool
. 

Luke Shelton took more than just her innocence. 

Yes,
he was
an outlaw
who had
stolen
her heart.  Splintered with regret, she realized
she had
no choice, but to move on. 

A nearby bell chimed. 
Caught off guard, Arabella set aside her troubled thoughts and spied a small group of women standing at the schoolhouse steps.  T
hey waited for her, of course. 
Picking up her pace, she followed her father with increasing dread.

“
You’d best w
atch out for Mamie Har
tley.”  Wyeth instructed.  “She’s not one you can trust
.  As for the rest of the town
council, you’ll find them very agreeable.”

Arabella nodded her head thankful for her father’s advice.  The town council came forward.  Everyone was smiling save for one woman whose eyes roved ov
er
her like a suspicious feline. 
No doubt, the insufferable woman was none other than Mamie Hartley.

After greeting each council member, she and her father followed the elders into the church where refreshments waited.  Eurilye Martin, the banker’s wife, offered her a generous plate of scones and a teacup of lemonade. 

“Lemons are hard to come by these days.”  Eurilye smiled.  “But we thought it entirely acceptable since this is such a special occasion.  Sundown hasn’t had a schoolmistress for
a while
now.”

Arabella nodded her thanks.  Nervous, she found a bench, taking her seat expectantly.  Her father sat down beside her, sharing an assured smile while she sipped at her lemonade.  Slowly, the council took their seats.

“Miss Gentry, we’d like to welcome you to Sundown.”  Mamie Hartley forced a brittle smile.  Clasping her hands, she came
closer until she stood
a few feet away.  “I think it’s best if we get right down to business.  There are a few questions the council would like to ask you.”

Arabella nodded her head.

“What would you like to know?”

“How long had you been teaching in Maryland?”

“Four years at a local seminary school for young women.”

“And in your father’s absence with whom did you
reside?”

“My Aunt and uncle, my mother’s family.”

“Miss Gentry.”  Mamie Hartley paused.  Her eyes grew big, almost cow-eyed.  “Could you please explain to the council why you have remained a spinster?”

Arabella felt her lips thin. 

She found the question entirely too personal, and unacceptable.  Lifting her chin, she eyed Mamie Hartley with distaste. 

“What does my marital status have
to do with teaching?” 

Mamie Hartley returned a likewise stare. 

Miffed by the younger woman’s boldness, she cleared her throat.  “Your marital statu
s is of
the utmost importance in reaching the council’s decision.”

Arabella looked at her father. 

Sympathetic to her plight, he nodded his head, encouraging her to continue.  Shrugging her shoulders, she gave a lengthy sigh. 

“Very well.”  She murmured.  “M
y fiancé died during the war, and I never had the heart to find another.”

The silent strain, which permeated the
room and the humiliation of it, was unbearable. 
Arab
ella swallowed back a
lump, which
caught in her throat.  She watched a
s a
very uncomfortable Mamie Hartley look
ed
over at Eurilye Martin who then nodded her head.

“I’m
sorry for your loss
.”  The older woman offered with a lame sense of sympathy.  “However, there’s another matter of importance, one that raises questions about propriety.”

“Propriety
?”
  Arabella piped.  S
he stood to her feet and placed her hands on h
er hips, directing
her in
tensity toward Mamie Hartley. 
“What would any of you know about my propriety?”

“During the holdup at Owl
Creek,” Mamie interrupted.  Not one for
usually
ba
cking down
. 
“I heard
while the outlaws were pummeling for loot, you stood by in defiance, putting the rest of the passengers at risk.”

It was true s
he had
been defiant. 

Nevertheless, what woman would not do so when her livelihood was at risk? 
The locket meant the world to her.  It signified a lifetime long since gone
, and she
would
not
let go of it
, even if it meant her life.  Arabella turned so she faced the council, ignoring Mamie Hartley’s indignant stance.

“Would you have me cower like a braying mule?”  She began her voice cool and surprisingly collected.  “Why would anyone in their right mind stand by and allow some lowlife criminal take away their dignity?  God as my witness, I met no harm
to the other passengers on the
stage.  Dare I naught say the truth for fear of losing a teaching position?”

“Even so, you went with him.”  Mamie blurted.

“I’d no choice.”  Arabella returned.  Turning around, she eyed the scheming woman with an assertive smile.  “Better me, than your son,
Edward,
isn’t that right, Mrs. Hartley?”

Mamie Hartley balked. 
At that same moment, Eur
ilye Martin stood to her feet and faced her fellow board members.
 

“Well, I for one agree with Miss Gentry.”  The banker’s wife encouraged.  “We’re all tired of those brigands. 
They have
been stirring up c
haos for
almost a year
.  It’s time to stand up to their antics.”

“We’re working on it
, Mrs. Martin.”  Sheriff Gentry spoke for the first time.  His smile turned cold, almost
calculating. 
“Believe me ladies. I know a lot more than you think.”

Arabella sta
red at the Sheriff of Sundown. 

Suddenly again, her fat
her took on his other persona. 

No longer an endearing
parent
, she stared wordlessly as his eyes met her with guarded interest.  Whatever he knew, she sensed it had something to do with her.  Disregarding her father’s scrutiny, she gave an eager little cough, forcing a brittl
e smile toward Mamie Hartley. 
For the moment defeated
, the mercantilist wife
cleared her voice and seethed
. 

“All those in favor of Arabella Gentry as schoolmistress of Sundown, please say aye.
”

Curse his rotten luck. 

If there was one thing he could not stand, it was definitely holing up, and
feeling caged like a wildcat. 

Two weeks s
eemed like a prison sentence. 
The only
thing, which
kept his
thoughts
sane,
was the delectable image of his
hostage.
 
Envisioning her
dark auburn
-hair and
bewitching bottle green
eyes
sent his pulse spiraling.  He hated leaving her behind.  Any sane man
would have
stayed, but he, Luke Shelton, wanted man in six counties had no
other choice but to abandon the
woman to the wild.  Furious, he grit his teeth, feeling his heart quicken at such a despairing thought. 
He was a w
anted man, dead or alive.  Now how in the hell did he end
up
in such a fractious predicament? 

Yes
,
he had
held up a bounty in payrolls,
he had
rustle
d some horses, an
d even lifted a few willing skirts
, but
he had
never physically harmed a single soul. 
To his amazement, the p
rice on him and his gang’s head
doubled with each passing day, and the notion of wanted dead, more so than alive stifled his patience. 

Leaning back in a portico chair, he ran a hand through his russet mane while scanning the heavens above.  It was hotter than Hades on the western plains without a hint of cloud to cover the brilliant blue sky.  In the distance, rolling hills stretched for miles on end, not a rider within sight
. 
Impatient, he began to fidget in his seat, craning his neck as far as the eye could see. 

Damn bu
t Jake, what was taking so long? 
He had
sent h
is younger brother
to town early this
morning and stil
l there was no sign of him
.

“What’s got you riled?”

Luke whirled around. 

With hand on pistol, he eyed
the
youngest
of his
brother
s
with precise
calculation.  Trigger Shelton
stood in the doorway.  His cobalt
-eyed gaze seemed the least bit concerne
d as he turned a lazy smile. 

“Trig.”  Luke released a rattled breath.  “Don’t you ever sneak up on me like that again, you hear?”

“Where’s Jake?”

“Hell if I know.”  Luke muttered.

Trig guffawed.  Shaking his
head, he descended the porch, and
kept on walking with purpose. 

“Crazy old cuss is
probably
drunker than a stinking mu
le skinner.  I warned you
should have sent me instead.”

“Where the hell are you going?”  Luke demanded.

“Fire me off a couple rounds.”  Trig
grumbled.  “I can’t stand this damn blasted idleness.”

Luke
did not
have the heart to say no. 
Usually, he
did not
allow for calling unwanted
attention, but given the circumstances,
he had
no choice but to ma
ke an exception. 

Since their older brother
Cole
’s tragic death, the kid seemed withdrawn, yet strangely driven to a point of deep-seeded distraction.  It
seemed
the only thing, which
mattered to the kid
was his
handy pistol.

“Luke!”

The sound of Jenny’s
voice
trilling
made him lurch in his seat once again.  He turned around, finding her standing at the front door, resting a basket on her protruding belly.  With an apologetic smile
, she winced, and then said softly
. 

“Dinner’s on the table.”

Luke nodded, returning a half smile.  With corn-silk hair, and doe-like eyes, Jenny was an alluring little thing.  She
was not
his true sibling though he treated her just the same.  Widowed and with child, she’d no other family, and so being the mother of his deceased brother’s child, it seemed only natural to take her in as one of their own.