Wildfire Creek (31 page)

“Loading the supplies from the general store, then he’s handling some errands for my father until I’m ready to leave. I’m certain we have time.”

“If you’re sure, then I’d be honored to accompany you to dinner.” He again took her elbow, then stopped. “I’m warning you, though, do not try to pay for the meal. You are my guest.”

She smiled up at him, stunned he’d agreed, and nervous at the prospect of openly sharing time with Noah. Her father would learn of this, of that she had no doubt. Abby knew she should be concerned about his reaction. Now, however, her excitement overcame her concern. She wrapped a hand around the arm he offered, feeling wonderful and certain this would be the best meal of her life.

Big Pine, Montana

“Good to see you, Dutch.” Tom shook the agent’s hand, then grabbed his bag from the stagecoach driver. “I’ll show you where we’re staying.”

“I could use some sleep. Longest stage ride I’ve ever taken. It broke down twice, once before Moosejaw and once after we left.”

“He must have made up the time because you’re here when the stage master said to expect you.” Tom entered the hotel, signed Dutch in, then took the stairs to their rooms.

“Nice place.” Dutch looked around the spacious room. “How’d you get Pinkerton to go for this?”

“It’s the same as any of the hotels. The town’s booming with the gold mines, and rooms go for a good sum, if you can find one. The only way we got these was from the pull of the head of the citizens committee. He owns the hotel.”

“Who’s that?”

“King Tolbert. His ranch is outside Splendor, where Luke has his place, but the man owns property and businesses here. He also owns part of at least one gold mine. Get some sleep, then we can talk.”

Dutch masked his surprise at the mention of Tolbert. “Let me clean up and I’ll meet you downstairs.” Dutch opened his one bag and rummaged through it as Tom left. He pulled out a wanted poster Gus Salter had gotten from a man who’d come by his ranch. He’d been looking for a suspected murderer and had reason to believe the man had worked with Salter’s foreman, Bob Bray, at some point.

Dutch washed his face and changed shirts before slipping the poster into his coat pocket and heading downstairs to meet Tom.

“I could use some food, then a drink.”

They walked down the main street, Tom pointing out businesses owned by men on the citizens committee, until he stopped in front of a restaurant.

“This is the best place in town. It’s also where many of the men on the committee eat their noon meal.”

“Understood,” Dutch said as they walked inside and were shown to a table.

Tom glanced around, nodding to a couple men he knew. He expected either or both to head toward their table before leaving. They’d been anxious to get the second agent in place.

They ordered, then Tom wasted no time telling Dutch what he knew.

“The committee…or rather, King Tolbert…is certain the thieves haven’t left the area. He believes they’re biding their time, wanting us to think they’ve moved on, possibly north of Splendor where new claims have been discovered. Tolbert and the committee have set a trap, hoping to lure the gang out with one large gold transport to Big Pine.”

“Sounds as if this Tolbert fella is running the committee.” Dutch stopped as the server set plates in front of them, then walked away.

“Might as well be.” Tom looked around the room, then back at Dutch. “This is one of the businesses he owns. He wanted a nice place to eat when he came to Big Pine. The man provides a lot of jobs in town and makes sure the citizens know it. He’s not shy about his wealth or what he wants, and doesn’t hesitate to push his considerable power. One person he’s been successful at keeping out of his way is Sheriff Sterling.”

“Tolbert doesn’t trust Sterling?” Dutch asked.

“Tolbert doesn’t trust anyone, but I don’t believe that’s his motivation. He knows Sterling is against the committee. The sheriff believes they use their power as a license to hang anyone they believe to be guilty, with or without proof or a trial.”

“I’ve heard of citizens committees acting worse than some of the outlaws they’re after, especially north of here.”

“It’s true,” Tom confirmed. “One of the mining towns up north has a tree they’ve named the Hanging Tree. Last year, ten men were hung within days, without a trial or a chance to tell their side. One was a deputy. A member of the vigilantes swore he was part of the gang robbing their gold shipments. His innocence was proven a week after the hanging. Even his senseless death didn’t stop them from hauling in others.”

“And you believe Tolbert agrees with the ‘hanging tree’ solution?” Dutch took another bite, pondering Tom’s words and how they might handle similar actions.

“I believe he wants those who’ve robbed the gold wagons to be captured. Beyond that, well… I just don’t know.”

“When is this big shipment supposed to happen?” Dutch asked.

“A couple weeks after Christmas. I’m keeping Sterling posted. He’s brought in more men with good experience.”

“Any of them impress you?”

“It’s hard to tell, as I haven’t seen them take on any of the robbers. One is a mystery. Does his job and stays to himself. His name is Ezra Duncan. There’s something about the man that doesn’t add up.” Tom glanced away, keeping watch on the comings and goings in the restaurant. “He was a sheriff in Nebraska for a while before something happened and he quit. Moved around and ended up here. Sterling believes there’s some bad blood between him and a wealthy citizen in Big Pine.”

“A member of the committee?”

“I don’t know. His name is Frederick Marlowe. Came into town about the time Luke and I went to Denver, and bought a big house in a prominent area. I haven’t been able to learn much about him.”

“I can contact headquarters to see if they can learn anything about Marlowe. It could take a while, but it’s worth a try. When is the next committee meeting?”

“Tomorrow night.”

Dutch pulled the wanted poster out and handed it to Tom. “Have you ever heard of this man?”

Tom glanced at the name and studied the image, then shook his head. “Parnell Drake. Says he’s wanted for murder. Where’d you get this?”

“Gus Salter. A man named Cash Coulter is tracking Drake. He came by Salter’s place a day or two after Bob Bray’s death. Two of the men Drake rides with were arrested the same night, part of the outfit buying the cattle from Bray and then moving the herd out of the area. Drake wasn’t with them. Both men refuse to talk, but this Coulter fella is certain he’s the leader of the gang buying the cattle from Bray.”

“The poster says Drake is wanted for murder.” Tom’s brows knit in question.

“Coulter told Salter he’s wanted for the murder of a family in Louisiana and is suspected of other killings.”

“Why’d he give this to you?” Tom asked.

“Salter wants us to be aware of Drake since he’s implicated in the thefts at his ranch. He has this notion Drake may have blackmailed Bray into stealing the cattle.”

“Making excuses for Bray’s actions?”

“It’s more as if he’s trying to come to terms with his friend’s death. Who knows? Maybe he’s right and Drake was blackmailing Bray. Regardless, Coulter told him Drake worked for a ranch in Splendor last spring. He disappeared with two others when there was evidence he’d tried to kill some men at a neighboring ranch. Any guess who he worked for?” Dutch asked.

“Who?”

“King Tolbert. And the neighboring ranch is owned by Luke and Dax Pelletier.”

“Shit,” Tom mumbled.

“Nothing we can do now, except be aware of Drake and his connection to both Tolbert and the Pelletiers.”

Tom tossed money on the table before they left. “It’s a strange business we’re in,” he said as they headed toward the sheriff’s office.

“That it is, Tom.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Splendor, Montana

“How does it look?” Ginny asked, stepping away from the pine wreath she’d rested against the back of a chair.

“It’s beautiful. Did your mother teach you how to make them?” Rachel stood back, admiring the wreath adorned with dried berries, nuts, and ribbons. Two more lay on the floor—one for their door and one for the bunkhouse.

“Mother loved making Christmas ornaments. She’d work on them all year, along with a neighbor who came to America from Germany. She taught Mother what she knew and encouraged her to try new decorations. For many nights before Christmas Eve, Mother would read a poem her family had sent her years before from their home in New York.
The Night Before Christmas
. Mary loves the poem. I don’t have a copy, although I do remember much of it.”

“My mother used to read it to me, too. It’s wonderful.”

The door flew open, letting a dusting of snow into the entry as Luke and Dax carried in armloads of wood.

“I’ll leave mine in here.” Dax placed his by the fireplace in the living room.

Luke continued into the kitchen, noting the smell of spice coming from the oven. He dropped the wood, stacked it next to the stove, then grabbed a towel Ginny used to open the oven door and peeked inside.

“Close that right now.” Ginny walked up beside him, pushed the oven door closed and glared up at him. “They’re not ready. Besides, they’re for after supper tonight.”

“They smell wonderful. What are they?”

“My mother called them jumbles. She used to make them for Christmas.” She grabbed the towel from his hand, noting he hadn’t moved. “Don’t you have to help Dax with something?”

He watched the expression on her face change from irritation to amusement to frustration within seconds. Luke knew his efforts to distance himself from her since Dax saw them in the kitchen confused her. Hell, the conflicting emotions he felt for Ginny confused
him
.

He’d stayed for supper several evenings and they’d spoken a few times, but neither mentioned what happened between them. Luke had no desire to sort through and bare the internal conflict her touch created. Even if he could form the words to explain what he saw as his future, she wouldn’t understand. Most important, he had no desire to hurt her.

There’d be hell to pay if he didn’t figure the best way to handle her presence at the ranch. The same intense desire assaulted him each time he saw her, and it took all his willpower to do what he’d promised Dax—
What you saw won’t happen again.
He surely hoped he could keep his vow because his feelings for her hadn’t faded. No matter what he told himself, each day brought more doubt about what he thought to be his future.

“I want you to tell me what possessed you to accept an invitation from Mr. Brandt.” King Tolbert’s temper had simmered since learning of the meal Abby and Noah shared at the boardinghouse a few days before. “You won’t accept any of the men I’ve put before you, yet you’ll spend time with someone as common as the local blacksmith. I won’t have it, Abby.” He paced back and forth across the room, glaring at her between steps.

Abby sat with her back erect, hands in her lap, chin lifted in a defiant pose. “Why not? You’ve told me what a fine man Mr. Brandt is and how you admire what he did at the Frey ranch.”

“Killing men who threatened to murder others has nothing to do with a public display such as the one you put on with him.”