The Bounty Hunter and the Heiress (23 page)

Eva stared contemplatively at her sister. It was time to let go, she realized. Lydia was coming of age and she was spreading her independent wings. Eva sincerely hoped Blackowl didn't take advantage of Lydia's infatuation for him. She made a mental note to pull him aside and establish the ground rules, despite Lydia's refusal to let Eva speak on her behalf.

When Lydia bounded up the steps to freshen up, Eva stared out the window, still feeling lost and alone. Perhaps she would join the threesome to dig for gold in the mountains. She desperately needed something to occupy her time before thoughts of Raven drove her completely crazy.

Curse it, he had been gone but a few hours and she missed him already.

A tear slid down her cheek and she brushed it away. “Goodbye, J.D.,” she whispered to the ruggedly handsome image floating above her. “I do love you, even if that's the last thing you want to hear from me.”

R
aven noticed the waitress who took his breakfast order at the café was studying him speculatively. Obviously, there wasn't anyone in town who hadn't heard that he and Evangeline Hallowell were husband and wife. He remembered what Eva had said about being treated differently when folks found out who she was. Now he knew what she meant.

True, people were still leery of him, but they looked at him differently now that he had supposedly married Eva. He wondered if folks thought he had threatened to dispose of her if she didn't agree to marry him. Probably. He doubted that a single citizen in Denver thought he was good enough for a Hallowell heiress—including himself.

“Here you are, Mr. Raven.” The waitress set a steaming plate of food in front of him. “Will your wife be joining you this morning?”

“No, I have professional business to conduct,” he replied. Then he added, “Tomorrow perhaps.”

The owner, who was eavesdropping beside the kitchen door, smiled in anticipated pleasure. Raven suspected the place would be scrubbed within an inch of its life if Evangeline Hallowell were scheduled to grace the place.

Raven finished his meal then exited to breathe in a deep breath of fresh air. He was still suffering occasional bouts of dizziness, but he'd be damned if he spent another day in bed. Inactivity made him twitchy and he was prolonging the inevitable.

He glanced left, surprised to see Blackowl striding toward him. The fact that his cousin had ventured into Denver at all amazed him. Raven doubted Blackowl would have come if he hadn't been serving as Lydia's bodyguard.

Blackowl halted abruptly in front of Raven, seemingly oblivious to the attention they both received. “I think you should travel to the Cheyenne Reservation in Indian Territory to choose a wife,” Blackowl insisted adamantly. “I'll go with you and pick one for myself.”

Raven frowned, bemused, as he continued down the street to tend to his next order of business. “Did something happen while you were working the mine that inspired you to take a wife?”

Blackowl refused to look at him—which was a clear indication that something was bothering him. Raven stopped short then half turned to face his cousin directly.

“Why this sudden insistence to leave town and marry immediately?” he demanded.

“Because of Eva's sister,” Blackowl blurted out. “I cannot have another paleface female disturbing me constantly.”

A wry grin pursed Raven's lips as he studied his cousin's exasperated scowl. He knew what Blackowl was going through. The riptide of emotion, the ill-fated attraction that played hell with a man's disposition. Raven had been fighting the same inner battle because of Eva. He knew for a fact that combating persistent emotions could drive a man as close to crazy as he ever wanted to come.

Spinning on his heels, Raven continued down the boardwalk. “If you're headed to the Cheyenne Reservation you'll have to travel without me. I have an errand to run. Then I'm headed to the marshal's office to complete paperwork on the two men who were lynched last week by a mob in Purgatory Gulch. Also, I need to give my statement about my multiple confrontations with James.”

“Then
you
take that pint-size paleface back to our new mine,” Blackowl demanded sullenly as he fell into step. “The mine has panned out exceptionally well. I think we will have more money than we know what to do with very soon.”

Raven chuckled. “You don't sound very pleased with the prospect—”

When Raven tried to veer into the jewelry shop beside the bank, Blackowl grabbed his arm to detain him. “Do not do this, cousin,” he pleaded, staring pointedly at the glittering rings behind the window. “Don't give Eva a ring and make this pretend marriage real. Be true to our clan. Let's leave town
right now.
”

Raven stared grimly at his cousin. “The man who owns this shop is the same one who broke Eva's heart and used her much the same way James used Lydia. I intend to issue a threat he won't soon forget, if only to satisfy my vengeful need to speak on her behalf. Are you coming in or not?”

Blackowl glanced through the window at the scrawny little man who was puttering around the store. “I'm coming. I can work up great enthusiasm for this particular errand.”

“So can I,” Raven agreed.

“What's his name?” Blackowl wanted to know.

“Felix Winslow. Let's go make his acquaintance.”

Assuming his most intimidating stance, Raven mentally geared himself up to confront the skinny weasel. He shoved open the door then stalked into the shop to introduce himself.

 

“Miss Evangeline? The Philbert twins are here to see you,” the butler announced.

“Tell them I'll be right there.”

Eva glanced toward the staircase to see if Lydia was on her way down after she had bounded off to her room to freshen up a quarter of an hour earlier. But Lydia hadn't reappeared. Eva pasted on a smile and walked into the foyer to greet her longtime friends.

Roger removed his stylish hat and studied her closely. “You look a little better,” he observed.

“You poor dear,” Sadie cooed with sympathetic concern as she appraised Eva's bruises and broken arm. “A tumble down the side of a mountain? Gracious! It's a wonder you're still alive.”

“Only on the outside,” Eva mumbled, half under her breath.

Sadie cocked her blond head sideways. “Pardon?”

Eva smiled slightly. “I was lucky indeed.”

“I should say so,” Sadie declared. “Roger told me all about how you overtook that horrible scoundrel and knocked him right out of the saddle with your splint.”

“That was rather gratifying,” she had to admit.

“We stopped by to see if you might enjoy a ride around town,” Roger offered. “You've been cooped up caring for your…er…husband for several days. How is he, by the way?”

Gone, and I don't expect him to return.
“Much better. He went out this morning to take care of some business.” She strolled over to fetch her jacket. “A morning drive sounds wonderful.”

But it didn't compare to being snuggled up in Raven's muscular arms, sharing his incredible passion. He was gone and a measly carriage ride was not going to compensate. She knew she would be miserable for a while. Filling the lonely hours to take her mind off him would require considerable effort. She simply had to adjust to life after Raven, she lectured herself sternly.

“Where are you off to?” Lydia called from the top of the staircase.

“Roger and Sadie invited me to take a ride. Want to come along?” Eva called back.

“I'd love to.” Lydia hurried down the steps, dressed in a clean pair of breeches and a shirt.

“You're looking well,” Roger complimented. “We can wait if you and your sister would like to change clothes.”

Lydia grinned as she ambled past him. “No need. Like Eva, I couldn't care less what high society thinks of my attire.”

Roger bowed slightly, amusement twitching his lips as he glanced from Eva to Lydia. “The eccentric Hallowell sisters,” he teased as he opened the door. “Such a refreshing twosome. I think that's why I like you so much.”

“What a lovely day for a ride,” Sadie enthused when she stepped onto the porch.

Eva glanced at the cloudless sky. “Isn't it though.”

It might as well have been dreary, the air heavy with the threat of rain. It felt all the same to Eva because Raven had taken the sunshine with him when he'd left.

 

Raven mounted his horse then trotted down the street to Marshal Doyle's office. Blackowl was right beside him, still harping about leaving for Indian Territory immediately after Raven completed his paperwork at the marshal's office.

“Now that you have your business with Felix Winslow settled and out of the way, I'll restock supplies for our journey,” Blackowl volunteered as he veered toward the dry goods store. “I'll catch up with you at the jail in a few minutes.”

Raven nodded, distracted. His thoughts centered on his upcoming encounter with his stepbrother. He was anxious to see James locked in jail and cuffed to the bars. However, if he had been given a choice, he would have preferred to take his turn with the bastard after the agony James had caused Eva. But Raven supposed it was fitting that Lydia was the one who had gone on the warpath and had pounded James into the ground with an improvised club to retaliate for her humiliation.

“I heard you were back in town.” Marshal Doyle nodded a greeting as he lounged in his chair behind the cluttered desk. “I've heard other intriguing rumors as well.”

“Have you?” Raven removed his hat to call Emmett's attention to his mending wound. “Was it that I nearly got my head blown off by a man whose shooting skills are mediocre at best?”

The marshal shrugged a bulky shoulder and grinned. “Naw, every joker gets lucky with his aim once in a while. A new part in your hair doesn't make headlines. Now, marrying an heiress? That's newsworthy. Evangeline Hallowell is said to be a free spirit and I do admit that I was highly impressed when I met her, but—”

Raven flung up his hand to silence the marshal. “I came by to have a few words with the prisoner.”

Emmett shook his head very deliberately. “Not unless you unload all your hardware. You can't stab or shoot him for injuring you and your new wife. Her lawyer intends to have a field day with him in court and the newspapers thrive on these high-profile stories.”

“You are no fun whatsoever, Emmett,” Raven grumbled as he laid his pistols and knife on the desk. “Oh, by the way, two of the men you sent me to arrest were hanged in Purgatory Gulch last week. The other one is still at large. Unless he was one of the nameless men James shoved over a cliff so he could steal another horse and pocket money and personal belongings.”

Emmett frowned disconcertedly. “I'm going to have to do something about that vigilante justice in Devil's Triangle. The long arm of the law doesn't stretch far enough into those mountains.” He glanced hopefully at Raven. “You interested in camping out there for a few months to clean up that place?”

“Nope. Although I now own a gold mine in the area, it will keep me busy enough when I have time to head back in that direction.”

Emmett's jaw dropped to his chest. “You're quitting the business?”

Raven shrugged evasively as he opened the door that led to the jail cells. “Haven't decided yet,” he said before he shut the door firmly, granting himself privacy to speak with James.

Cold fury mingled with amusement—of all things—when Raven got his first look at his stepbrother. His stylish clothes were filthy. Raven wondered if the Hallowell sisters had dragged James through the mud before planting him on a horse to cart him to Denver. It certainly looked like it.

Several days' growth of whiskers lined James's jaw. His usual arrogance was nowhere to be seen, but his long-held bitterness remained visible. His green eyes glowed with hatred and resentment as he glowered at Raven.

“What the hell do you want?” James sneered derisively. “To gloat about marrying that rich bitch? If it wasn't for the money, I'd say the two of you deserve each other.”

“If you weren't such a lousy shot, you wouldn't be behind bars,” Raven countered mockingly. “Don't blame me for your predicament, James. You had plenty of chances.”

As much as he wanted to take James apart with his bare hands for nearly getting Eva killed, seeing him confined to a ten-by-ten-foot cell and surviving on prison rations was extremely gratifying. A quick death would have been too merciful, Raven realized. This way James could serve the rest of his days in the penitentiary, knowing his half-Cheyenne stepbrother, whom he despised, was free to come and go anywhere he pleased.

James stared at Raven for a long moment. “Why did she pick you when she has refused everyone else's courtship?”

Apparently, curiosity was killing James. It tormented him beyond words that Raven had supposedly married into one of the richest, most influential families in Denver.

A wicked grin pursed Raven's lips as he turned to leave. “It's my Cheyenne charm,” he replied before he closed the door on the foul-smelling cells in the room behind him.

“You bastard!” The wild, shrill feminine voice bounced off the walls and came at Raven from all directions at once.

The pleasure of taunting James was instantly forgotten. Raven froze in his tracks. Widow Flanders stood in the open doorway of the marshal's office. Her gray eyes were narrowed in a murderous glare. Her dingy brown hair was in tangled disarray. Her calico gown looked as if she had slept in it for several days on end. She had both hands clamped around her departed husband's six-shooter and it was aimed at Raven.

And here
he
was unarmed. His weapons lay atop the marshal's desk and the marshal was sprawled motionlessly on the floor at the widow's feet.

“Well, hell,” Raven muttered as he stared down the spitting end of the pistol. “You better not have killed Emmett. He's a good man and I like him.”