Wildfire Creek (19 page)

The noise of the herd muffled Elgin’s shouts until he was almost upon Bray. He raised his gun to fire as a shot rang out, the bullet catching Elgin in his shoulder, toppling him from his horse. Within seconds, shots rang out across the valley, causing the herd to stampede first one direction then another as the wild-eyed animals tried to avoid the gunfire.

Luke kept the barrel of his rifle locked on Bray as the man pulled his gun and aimed at the sheriff.

“Don’t do it, Bob. Give up!” Gus yelled, trying to be heard over the sounds of gunfire and cattle. His warning fell on deaf ears.

Bray brought his horse around and redirected his aim at Salter. Before he could get a shot off, a lone bullet ripped through the night, catching Bray square in the chest. He dropped his gun, clutching at the wound, then fell from his horse.

Salter shot a look at Luke, nodded once, then rode straight to his son, who lay on the ground. He slid from his horse and let out a breath as he confirmed the bullet had only grazed his son’s shoulder.

“What the hell were you thinking, riding in like that?” Anger and relief tinged Gus’ voice as he pulled off his shirt, using it to stop the bleeding.

Elgin closed his eyes, not knowing how to answer. He hadn’t planned to ride at Bray. The anger and bewilderment he felt boiled to the surface when he saw the other group of rustlers moving toward the herd. Something snapped and he’d felt powerless to contain his rage.

“Why would he do it, Pa?” His voice was strained and Gus could see tears form in his son’s eyes. The older man felt a slice of pain rip through his chest.

“I don’t know, son. I just don’t know.”

Dutch joined them, kneeling down next to Elgin. “Looks like he’ll be all right.” When Gus didn’t respond, he continued. “A few rustlers got away. The others who survived are under arrest. You may want to check on Bray. He’s hanging on, but probably not for long.”

Gus pushed from the ground and walked in slow strides toward Luke and the sheriff, who knelt beside Bray. He looked down, knowing Bob wouldn’t make it. He pulled off his hat and ran a shaking hand through his hair before dropping to his knees.

Luke motioned to the sheriff. Both stood and walked away, leaving Salter and Bray alone.

Bob’s labored breathing turned into a series of wracking coughs. His eyes opened to slits, landing on Gus, who fought to control his emotions.

“Why’d you do it, Bob?” Gus choked out, grabbing his friend’s hand when he reached out to him.

“For Nell…” he managed before the pain gripped him again.

“Nell? I don’t understand.”

 Bray forced his eyes open. “Home… She wants a home.” His voice had turned reedy, his words faint.

“I don’t understand. What home?” Gus implored, trying to understand the motivation behind the actions.

Bob opened his eyes once more, but nothing else came before his head rolled to the side and his body stilled.

Chapter Thirteen

Nell sat before Gus and Elgin, wringing a handkerchief between her hands. Sobs shook her small frame as she tried to explain what she knew about Bob’s decision to steal from his friends—men he’d always considered his family.

“Bob wanted to build a house…for me. He’d never saved much, never believing he’d marry.” She took a breath, trying to control the tears. “He needed land and couldn’t figure how else to get it. I begged him to go to you, but he refused. I told him I’d tell you myself, but he said you’d never take my word over his.”

“Hell,” Gus blurted out as he stood and paced the room. “I would’ve given him the land and built him a house. Why didn’t he come to me?”

“Pride.” She wiped tears from her face. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t said I’d marry him if we had a home, none of this would’ve happened.”

Elgin, his wounded shoulder bandaged, took one of her hands in his. “Don’t blame yourself, Nell. The decision to steal our cattle was Bob’s choice. He could’ve spoken with Pa or gone to the bank for a loan, but he didn’t.” Elgin helped Nell stand, then escorted her to her room where she could grieve in private.

Dutch, Tom, and Luke stood a few feet away, watching and listening to the heartbreaking conversation. Nothing excused Bray’s actions. Still, it was hard to hear what transpired and remain unmoved.

Luke found himself wondering if any of the men he and Dax trusted would make the same decision if they needed money. He ticked off the names in his head—Rude, Ellis, Tat, Johnny, Bull. He couldn’t comprehend any of them making the same choice as Bray.

Dutch walked up to Gus and extended his hand. “I guess our time here is over. We wish it had ended different.”

Gus locked his gaze on Dutch. “I didn’t believe any of it, right up until I saw Bob ride up with the cattle. You boys were right.” He accepted Dutch’s hand. “Be assured I’ll let Pinkerton know.”

The three rode back to town in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. By all standards, the assignment had been a success, yet each felt the sting of the void left at the Salter ranch where no one seemed to come out a winner.

Dutch planned to stay in Denver until new orders arrived. Tom and Luke would begin their return trip to Big Pine the following morning—Tom to resume his search for those who stole the gold, while Luke rode back to Splendor. Each expected it to be a more treacherous journey than their ride south. Several storms had passed over the mountains since their arrival. They’d also learned of an attack on a new fort under construction in northern Wyoming. They could avoid the fort, but it wouldn’t be as easy to find a way around the snow, and each anticipated the trip to take twice as long.

They grabbed breakfast before Luke stopped at the telegraph office to send a message to Dax, letting him know of his return. He couldn’t believe how much he looked forward to getting back to his own place, the peace and quiet of the house tucked up against the forest and facing Wildfire Creek. As much as he enjoyed the occasional Pinkerton assignment, the daily routine of ranch life, his family and friends, and the serenity of his home would always be what drew him back.

Splendor, Montana

“I understand, Amos. Of course you have to make some changes.” The knot in Ginny’s stomach formed as soon as she arrived at the Rose. Al told her Amos needed to speak with her right away.

The new saloon had opened two weeks before, drawing considerable attention, enticing customers away from the Rose. Amos had weathered the first Saturday night with less than half the normal business. When the second Saturday came and went with an even larger drop, everyone knew he’d have to do something. The first, and most obvious choice, would be to let Ginny go. After all, the women upstairs could serve drinks, plus provide services she was unwilling to offer.

“I’m sorry, Ginny. I just don’t have a choice.” Amos held out a small pouch. “There’s enough there to keep you going for a week or so. It’s not much, but…” His voice trailed off.

She took the pouch, stuffing it into her reticule and then into the pocket of her new, and quite warm, coat—the one which had arrived several weeks before, along with a beautiful wool dress from a store in Big Pine. Even though a note hadn’t been included, no one had to tell her who sent them. At first, she’d been furious, feeling the same sense of indebtedness as when Luke paid Doc Worthington and fronted her missed pay at the Rose. As the days passed and the temperatures dropped, she became grateful for the gift. Suzanne had told her Luke wouldn’t have sent it unless he believed she needed it, and he’d expect nothing from her. Now, weeks later, she kept it close, day and night, sometimes wrapping it around her for warmth at night.

“Thank you. It’s more than I expected.” Her voice cracked as she offered a weak smile to her former boss. At least she had work at the boardinghouse until she could find another job. She had no idea where, though. The increase in settlers deciding to make Splendor their home made it harder to find work than when she’d first arrived. She turned to leave, then stopped at Amos’ words.

“If I can, I’ll hire you back.”

She would’ve thanked him again if her throat hadn’t chosen that moment to close up. All she could do was nod before walking out. Ginny didn’t stop and talk to any of the friends she’d made at the saloon, although all of them watched as she left. She could feel their eyes on her and knew each understood what had happened, thanking God it hadn’t been them.

When Ginny had walked into the Rose, the sun had already dropped behind the nearby mountains. As she walked out, the night had turned dark, the only light provided by kerosene lamps shining through the occasional window.

She glanced across the street at the new saloon. From the look of it, there must be a hundred lamps burning inside. The sounds of a piano drifted through the doors, almost taunting her, and Ginny found herself drawn toward it. She hadn’t allowed herself a peek inside since they’d finished building. It opened with little fanfare, the owner still a mystery.

The bartender and several saloon girls, young and alluring, showed up by stage a few days before the first drink was served, stepping onto the dirt street as if they were royalty. Belle and the other girls at the Rose had snickered, telling each other they were much prettier than the new arrivals and doing their best to believe they had nothing to worry about. As the nights passed, more men were drawn toward the lively new addition—all except the men from Redemption’s Edge. They stayed loyal to the Rose.

Ginny crossed the street, then walked the last few feet to the edge of one of the saloon windows. No one stood outside and she made the decision to take one quick look, then leave. She peered through the sparkling clean glass. All tables were filled, patrons sitting elbow-to-elbow at the bar. The stairs were ornate with red carpet leading to the second floor, and a huge chandelier hung from the high ceiling. She counted six girls, two more than at the Rose, all in glittering dresses of various colors. Ginny recognized most of the men and a sadness washed over her at how easy it had been to leave the Rose behind.

“May I help you?”

Ginny jumped at the deep voice behind her. She swung around, a hand to her chest, to face a tall, wide-shouldered man dressed all in black, except for a thin, red ribbon tie under his shirt collar. The patch over his left eye being his most distinguishing characteristic.

“I…uh…,” she stammered, partly from being caught and partly from the intimidating man before her. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I was just walking past and heard the music.”

“You’re Miss Sorensen, correct?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “How do you know my name?” She took a step back, almost tripping before strong hands reached out to steady her.

“Careful there.” His deep chuckle held no malice. “I’ve heard your name mentioned by some of the customers. Not many saloons hire a girl who doesn’t work upstairs. I got curious and came by to see for myself, much like you’re doing tonight.”

“You came by the Rose?”

“I wasn’t dressed quite like this at the time, but yes, I stopped by to check on what I’d heard, and try to convince Al to come work for me.”

Al had never mentioned being offered a job. “He obviously turned you down.”

“Flat. Didn’t even ask how much I’d pay him. So, why are you here, Miss Sorensen?” He stepped a couple of inches closer, crowding her space. For the first time Ginny felt a flicker of unease.

“No real reason, except curiosity. Well, I’d better get home. It was nice to meet you, Mr…”

“My apologies for not introducing myself sooner. I’m Nicholas Barnett.” He made a slight bow as he tipped his hat.

“Do you own the saloon?”

“It’s called the Dixie Saloon.”

“You’re from the South?” The name surprised her. His voice held no hint of a southern accent. She’d guessed him to be from New York or Boston.

He cocked his head, as if deciding whether or not to answer. “My partner is.”

“I see.” She pulled her coat tighter, feeling her face chill in the cold air. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Barnett.”

“The pleasure is mine, Miss Sorensen. I hope to see you again.” He stepped back, watching as she made her way toward the boardinghouse, where he already knew she lived with her sister, Mary. Nick had learned quite a bit about the young woman and decided he admired her. He had no idea why he hoped she’d never be forced through circumstance to offer services other than serving whiskey or food.