Sunrise Ridge (Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Book 3) (13 page)

BOOK: Sunrise Ridge (Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Book 3)
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“It’s been a long time, Gabe.” Dolly slid a hand along his shoulders, purring in his ear as he tried to focus on the cards he held.

He glanced over his shoulder, a smile breaking across his typically stoic face. “Too long, Dolly.”

She let her fingers trace a path along his neck, feeling him stiffen slightly and shift in his seat. The signs were clear. He’d come to spend time with her. Gabe had always been different from her other customers. Kind and thoughtful, he rushed nothing, including taking time to talk as if they were friends. He never spoke of anything personal, such as his past or family. They talked of their futures and their dreams—simple topics with no fear of their thoughts ever going beyond the walls of her room.

“I’ll be at the bar when you’re ready,” she cooed in a soft voice.

Gabe nodded, not taking his eyes from the table. He played a few more hands, winning one and losing the others.

“I’m done, boys.” He grabbed his hat and joined Dolly at the bar, slipping an arm around her waist and drawing her close. “You ready?”

“Of course.”

He grabbed a bottle and two glasses, following behind as she ascended the stairs. When he reached the landing, something prickled the back of his neck and he turned, trying to see what caused the warning. His gaze lit on two men as they entered the saloon.

“Shit,” he mumbled to himself, recognizing Cash. “I’ll be right up, Dolly. There’s someone I need to speak with first.”

She took the bottle and glasses, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek before disappearing through a door.

Cash spotted Gabe coming down the stairs, his eyes crinkling in understanding. He held out his hand, then slapped Gabe on the back.

“It’s good to see you again.” Cash turned toward Beau. “This is Beau Davis. We’re working together.”

Gabe shook Beau’s hand. “Sheriff Sterling told me you were in town. Looking for Drake?”

Cash shook his head as they took seats at a nearby table. “News travels fast.”

“So it’s true? Drake may be back in this area?”

“Appears that way. We believe he and his men rustled cattle in Colorado before moving to Montana. We spotted tracks indicating a large number of cattle. They’re heading in the direction of Splendor.”

Gabe leaned forward, his voice low. “I believe Drake and some of his men are already in Splendor. Neither the Pelletiers nor Tolbert are missing cattle, but others are. Seems whoever is doing this knows who to go after and who to avoid.”

“For now,” Beau grumbled. “At some point they will rustle from the bigger ranchers. That will be their last job, then they’ll move the cattle out.”

“We’re leaving for Splendor tomorrow.” Cash glanced up the stairs to see Dolly leaning against the rail. “Appears you have unfinished business. We’ll meet you at dawn in front of the hotel.”

Gabe clasped his shoulder. “I’ll be there.” He hustled up the stairs, ignoring the sounds of chuckles coming from behind him. At least he’d have one good night before what he knew would be another long dry spell.

“Good morning, Abby.”

Abigail looked up to see her friend and Dax’s wife, Rachel Pelletier, standing on the other side of the teller window, a broad smile lighting her face.

“Hello, Rachel. It’s so good to see you. How are you feeling?”

“Wonderful. The first few months were a little rough, so I’m thankful that part is over.” Rachel and Dax were expecting their first child in a few months. “I heard Mr. Clausen hired you. I always knew him to be a smart man.”

Abby grinned at the comment. “He and Mrs. Phelps have been wonderful. What can I do for you today?”

“I’ve come to draw money for this week’s pay at the ranch.” Rachel handed Abby a piece of paper with a total of what she needed. “I also heard you’re staying at the boardinghouse.”

“I am.” She lowered her voice so none of the other customers could hear. “It’s been different living in town instead of coming in once or twice a week with Father or one of his hands. I feel as if I belong and less like a visitor. I hope that makes some sense.”

“It does. After living with Uncle Charles and working in his clinic, moving to the ranch has been an adjustment. It’s been better since Luke married Ginny. Of course, we have the orphans living on the ranch, and I do come to town as often as possible to help at the clinic.” Rachel’s uncle, Doctor Charles Worthington, ran the clinic where she worked as a nurse. Her experience during the Civil War, working in field hospitals for the Union Army, had provided a good background for working in a frontier clinic.

“Did you work today?” Abby counted out the money for the Pelletier payroll and slipped it into a bag Rachel had placed on the counter.

“I almost didn’t ride in today, but I’m glad I did. Noah had an accident at the livery.”

Abby stopped counting, her eyes widening. “What happened? Is he all right?”

Rachel reached across the counter and touched Abby’s hand. “He’ll be fine. Somehow, he lost his grip on a tool he was heating at the forge. When it slipped, he tried to grab it without thinking and burned his hand. I don’t think he would’ve come to the clinic if his helper, Toby, hadn’t been there when it happened and told him he’d fetch my uncle if Noah didn’t get it tended.”

A stream of air rushed from Abby’s lungs as she slid the money bag to Rachel. “How bad is it?” Her voice shook, as did her hands.

“He should heal fast. I applied some salve and wrapped the burn. He might not be able to do much for a couple days which, of course, he didn’t want to hear. Truth is it could’ve been much worse.” Rachel rolled the bag tight and placed it into her reticule. “If you don’t have plans, why don’t you come to the ranch for supper tomorrow?”

“I’d love to, but I don’t have a horse or buggy. I’m hoping to be able to purchase a horse soon, boarding it at Noah’s livery.”

“My uncle is coming out, too. Why don’t you ride with him? He’d love the company.”

“If you’re sure he won’t mind, then I’d love to.”

“Good. I’ll let him know before I leave town.”

“Thank you, Rachel. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Abby finished with the last few customers as she thought about the invitation. She didn’t realize a simple request to join a friend for supper would make her feel so good. Since she’d been back, all her time had been spent at either the boardinghouse or the bank. It would be a welcome change to sit with friends and catch up on everything.

“We’re almost ready to close, Abby.” Sally pulled out her keys and walked toward the front entrance. “I’m certainly glad it’s Friday.”

“So am I, Mrs. Phelps.” Abby finished closing her money drawer and locked it in the safe. “May I help you with anything before I leave?”

“No, dear. You go on home. I’ll see you Monday morning.”

Abby slipped into her coat before stepping into the evening air, the door closing behind her. She took her time, strolling past the general store, the noise and lights from the Dixie across the street catching her attention. She’d met Magdelena Campanel at the boardinghouse where she had a room. Even though Nick told Suzanne his relationship with Magdelena was business only, few thought it as platonic as he made it sound.

Magdalena’s rich, dark auburn hair and olive complexion gave her an exotic, sophisticated look. One of the girls at Abby’s finishing school in Philadelphia had come from the New Orleans area and had similar features. Magdalena’s stunning appearance rivaled anyone Abby had ever met.

Nick cut a striking figure in his customary black slacks, embroidered vest, and white shirt with black ribbon tie. Instead of detracting, the patch over his left eye added to the rugged, yet debonair appearance, which caused women to openly admire him as he walked past.

Although Nick appeared significantly older, he and Magdelena were a remarkable looking couple for a frontier town in the middle of nowhere. More than once since Magdelena had arrived on the stage a few days before, Abby found herself wondering if something had driven them to establish a saloon this far west, in a town offering little in the way of cultural distractions. She’d let her imagination get the best of her several times, envisioning they were running from the law, settling someplace where no one could find and prosecute them for whatever crime they’d committed. Abby chuckled at the way her fantasies could run wild.

She came to a stop at the edge of the boardwalk and glanced around. To her left and across the street stood the boardinghouse. If she made a right turn, she’d end up in front of the blacksmith shop and livery. She hesitated for a brief moment before making the decision to check on Noah, just to make certain his injuries weren’t more serious than Rachel let on.

Embers still glowed in the forge, the heat assaulting her as she stepped through the unlocked doors and into his empty work area. The sound of horses from the livery in back carried to the front. She skirted the forge and walked to the back door, wondering if Noah might be cleaning the stalls or tending the animals he boarded.

More than once Abby had left her old gelding, Willie, with Noah for various reasons. She smiled, remembering all the times she’d worked to come up with some reason to visit him. Willie had always been a good excuse. She suspected Noah figured out the ruse long ago, but he never said a word.

Abby walked through the back doors, looking around until her gaze landed on Noah, forking hay from a stack several feet away, then tossing it into each of the stalls. Although the night air felt chilled, he wore no shirt, the muscles of his back bunching with each movement. Abby could’ve watched him for hours, wishing she had the right to run her fingers down his shoulders and arms. Her fingers itched to trace a path over his hardened chest.

“Abby?”

She startled when she noticed him striding toward her.

“Do you need something?” He came to a stop a foot away.

“I…um…heard you’d hurt yourself. I wanted to see if you were all right.” She glanced at his bandaged hand, now dirty from work. It seemed he’d ignored Rachel’s advice to take it easy for a few days.

He shifted the pitchfork to his other hand and held up the bandaged one. “Not much of a wound. Burned myself a little, nothing more.” He lowered his hand, not taking his gaze from Abby, letting himself enjoy the sight of her.

“Rachel told me you were to lay off a little, let the burn heal.”

“Well, I suppose I don’t listen too well.” His sheepish grin had her laughing. “Something funny?”

“Do all men ignore advice from their nurse or doctor?”

“I can’t speak for others, but I’ve never taken it too seriously. Only way to keep eating is to work.” He leaned the fork against one of the stalls, searching for words that would keep her at the livery longer. “Have you seen your father again?”

Her gaze had followed each of his movements and now landed on his face, noting the bruising and cuts from the beating her father’s men had given him were almost healed. “I’m to have supper with him on Sunday.”

“You don’t sound pleased.”

She snorted at the thought of anything having to do with her father being pleasurable. “I am
not
looking forward to it.”

“He’s still your father, Abby.”

Abby glanced at Noah, surprised he’d support her decision to see her father. “And that is the only reason I agreed to have supper with him. He’s sending one of his men to town to escort me. The problem is I won’t be able to leave at will.” She cast Noah a mischievous grin. “Unless I steal Willie and ride out.”

Noah broke out in laughter at the image of Abby trying to escape on old Willie. “When was the last time you had Willie out for a run?”

“You mean as fast as he can go?”

“No, I mean as fast as other horses. I’ll bet Rachel’s old horse, Pete, could outrun Willie, and Pete is about the oldest horse around these parts. Come on.” He motioned her toward one of the stalls holding a ten-year-old gelding. “I took this horse in trade for some work. There’s a saddle inside you can use. Take the horse and saddle on Sunday so you won’t feel trapped.”

The happiness on Abby’s face felt like a punch in the stomach to him.

“Oh, Noah, are you certain? I can pay you something for riding him.” She reached out to stroke the horse’s nose, her eyes lighting up with pleasure.

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