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Authors: Jillian Hart

High Mountain Drifter (35 page)

BOOK: High Mountain Drifter
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Not his business, he told himself, but he knew the sheriff's office was in that direction. Some kind of trouble had to be going on. He knew the sheriff, maybe he needed some help. The horses returned to their buckets, snarfing up every last kernel and crumb. Grim, Zane tossed the buckets in the back of his buckboard.

"A terrible shame," a man said on the sidewalk, coming closer, his voice carried on the wind. "Just a shame."

"What is the world coming to?" asked his friend, knuckling back his Stetson. "That's what I'd like to know. It's getting so a body can't walk around safe on the street."

"And in broad daylight," the first fellow finished, stopping to open the diner's front door. Scents of sizzling sausages, of bitter black coffee and greasy eggs wafted out, rising in the air. "Those poor Marshals. Shot dead, execution style. Must have happened sometime early this morning."

The diner door swung closed, cutting off the conversation.

Zane didn't need to hear more. Two dead marshals? He went cold inside--mountain cold, mountain tough. The only two marshals he knew were in the area were the ones in charge of Craddock.

Zane closed his eyes, questions overtaking him like panic. Exactly how long ago had the marshals been killed? How much time had Craddock been on the run? Could he have gotten far?

Zane leaped to action. In less than a minute he'd unbuckled Winchester from his harness, grabbed his rifle and mounted up. Without saddle or bridle, he pushed his gelding hard, straight down the middle of the town street. He charged around the horses and vehicles stalled outside the sheriff's office, pushed through the busy streets of town and came out on the other side. In the wide-open country where he pushed Winchester into an all-out gallop.

It likely wouldn't be fast enough, he couldn't get there soon enough to save her. But he would die trying.

* * *

In the merry sun-lit kitchen of McPhee Manor, life went on as usual. Daisy had rushed back from making breakfast for Beckett and Hailie to mix up the next cake order for Helen Hutchinson's tea party. Rose was whipping up a batch of butter cream frosting. Magnolia, busily chatting with her beloved Tyler in the hallway, was oblivious to everything. Iris carefully busied herself slicing the layers of cooled cakes into more layers. And Verbena, exhausted and emptied-out, wiped the last of the breakfast dishes and put them away.

"We have a busy day lined up," Daisy was saying as she measured butter into her mixing bowl. "Helen's party. Another batch of bread for the mercantile. Little Harvey Mason's birthday cake."

"In the shape of a horse," Iris added, grimly butterflying another cake layer and gently laying it on a cake stand. "Rose, you said you were feeling artistic?"

"I can make a horse out of anything. Frosting, cake, sugar paste. I can even fold one out of paper." Rose dipped a clean spoon into her frosting, gave it a taste-test, nodded, and set the bowl on the counter. "I have Helen's frosting and filling ready. Looks like the cake is ready too."

"Yes, it is." Iris set the knife aside and straightened, admiring her work. "Perfect. Hand me the filling, and let's get this finished."

Verbena crossed the kitchen, armed with the clean plates still hot from the rinse water and went up on tiptoe to scoot them into place in the cupboard. It felt good to have the morning busy and life back to normal for her sisters. They were safe, they were happy. That's really all she wanted. And if her soul whispered for something else--someone else--then she did her best to ignore it. Not that it was working very well, but still, she was trying.

"Does that sound okay with you, Verbena?" Daisy asked, mixing bowl anchored in the crook of her arm.

"What?" She blinked. Oops, guess she hadn't been paying attention.

"She'll do it." Magnolia skipped into the room, answering for her. "You know how we love to do deliveries. I was going to teach her to drive anyway and this will be a good opportunity."

"Wait. Not while you're delivering one of our cakes," Rose protested. She looked a little faint at the thought. "Don't do that to me. We've already been through enough with you, Magnolia."

"Yeah, yeah." Magnolia took the teasing good-naturedly. "I've only hit anything once, and it was Tyler. But it turned out to be a good thing."

"Oh, I don't know about that," a male voice joked--Tyler--as he climbed the stairs, hammer in hand, heading up to work on Rose's room. "It depends on your perspective."

"Funny. Oh, he thinks he's a comedian, but he's wrong." Magnolia rolled her eyes playfully. "No worries, Rose. We'll be safe. I'll run down to the barn and ask someone to hitch up for us. The cake should be done by the time I get back."

"I'll go." Verbena hung the damp dishtowel to dry. "I could use the fresh air."

"You keep saying you're all right this morning, but I don't believe you." Daisy set down her bowl, her batter perfectly mixed, and brushed a lock of hair out of Verbena's eyes. Always the caring, big sister. "Remember, we think you're fabulous."

"Not as fabulous as you are." What would she do without her sisters? She gave Daisy a hug, grabbed her coat and bundled up. It looked cold out there. But invigorating. Maybe the cold would make her forget her heart was in pieces.

Determined not to think of the man who'd left her, she grabbed her scarf, stuck her hands into her knit gloves, and bounded onto the porch. As she shut the door behind her, a memory popped into her head, uncontrollably and against her will. The morning when she'd opened up to find Zane standing here. The morning he'd strode in, took her in his arms and kissed her. That lip-tingling, soul-stealing, claiming kiss.

Oh, boy, she thought, rolling her eyes. So much for not thinking of him. She needed to find a way to stop. She really did miss him so much.

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

"Knock, knock." Verbena closed the door behind her, shivering in the little entry way of the ranch's kitchen house. "Is anybody here?"

"I'm here and glad to see you." Aumaleigh looked up from the work table, where she sat with a pencil and paper. "Just making a shopping list. I've relied on Maebry to do it for so long, it feels as if I've forgotten how. Goodness, you look cold. Come in and get warm. Is Cal hitching up Marlowe for you?"

"Yes." Verbena unwound her scarf and unbuttoned her coat. "Thought I'd pop in for a few minutes to keep warm, with the added benefit of seeing you."

"Excellent." Aumaleigh rose out of the chair, elegance in calico. Sympathy carved little crinkles around her eyes that were so kind. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Oh, I'll live. I just got my hopes up more than I realized." She liked having Aumaleigh to talk to. She was almost like a mother. "My sisters are blaming him for leaving."

"I am, too." Aumaleigh reached out, patted Verbena's cheek gently, with a caring hand. "How can anyone leave you, I don't know. It just proves he wasn't good enough for you, my dear, sweet girl."

"Oh, he's good enough, and I never thought that someone could be. Not after Ernest." The confession made her feel vulnerable, as if every broken piece of her heart lay undefended. She sighed, miserably. "He just didn't love me enough to stay."

"Did he tell you that?" Aumaleigh's forehead crinkled. She looked a little angry. "Is that what happened in the sunroom before he walked out, when we found you crying?"

"No, he never said that." Her chest felt all shredded up, like it had been all night long when she'd tried to sleep...and couldn't. "It's just that he
could
leave. You know, he just told me all these remarkable, heart-wrenching things and left."

"Now I don't understand." Aumaleigh pulled out another chair and pointed at it. "Not that I understand men. No, after a lifetime of dealing with them I don't understand them at all. But I am a good listener."

"Did you know he used to be an outlaw?" She took the seat, relieved to finally be able to talk about this. Goodness knew, if she confessed all this to her sisters, they might be too upset about the contents of the story to see the point. "His father was a notorious outlaw, and Zane grew up with him in his gang. He ran with them, but then he did a brave thing saving someone his father had kidnapped, and turned his life around."

"I see." Aumaleigh sat down, looking shell-shocked. "He must have been young."

"He was eighteen when he left." She bit her bottom lip, clasped her hands in her lap, thought about that youth Zane must have been. "He said I wouldn't want a man like him."

"And that's when he left?"

Verbena nodded. "He just walked away so easily. He didn't even look back. I know he cares about me, but it wasn't enough to make him even stay to talk about it. He didn't even want to try to make it work."

"I do think he loves you very much." Aumaleigh turned thoughtful, falling silent for a moment as if she were considering all the angles before speaking again. The tea kettle on the stove rumbled lazily, the fire popped in the stove. "He changed for you, Verbena. When he came he could scare away a charging grizzly with one look. He was distant and remote, kept to himself. But last night with you, he laughed, he looked at you as if you were the only star in the sky. As if he'd lay down his life for you in an instant. You could see the love in his eyes."

"I know." She shrugged. "I thought I saw it too."

"You know, once there was a handsome young man who gazed at me like that." Sadness swept over Aumaleigh's face. "When we were together, it felt like we were a perfect match in every way. Like I'd known him forever. When his heart beat, mine matched it. When he held my hand, it was as if he held my heart too."

"That sounds familiar." Verbena nodded, thinking of those times with Zane when they were alone, just the two of them. The emotional connection that bound them, the physical charge, the amazing
rightness
. "What was his name?"

"Gabriel." Aumaleigh smiled through the sadness, her beauty shining through. "He was my kindred soul, my great love.

He looked at me with forever in his eyes, the same way your Zane looked at you. That is a rare gift. In all the years since, I've never come close to finding it again."

"What happened?" Okay, call her curious, but she had to know. "Did he leave you?"

"Worse." Tears stood in Aumaleigh's eyes but did not fall. "I never told him how I truly felt, I was shy, I was afraid to bare my heart. Worst mistake of my life. I let him walk away. I never should have let him go, not without putting my fears of being too vulnerable aside and telling him how very much he meant to me. Maybe things would have worked out differently."

"I would have wanted that happiness for you." Verbena watched her aunt blink away tears from decades of pain. That was a long time to hold onto heartbreak. Poor Aumaleigh. Verbena ached with sympathy. "But for me, things can't turn out any other way. Zane would have left even if I told him the depths of my true feelings. He's not exactly domesticated."

"He's not untamed either." Aumaleigh blinked back her tears, lifted her chin, stronger than her past. "But if it really is too late, then at least try to get some closure. That way all the pain you're feeling doesn't overshadow everything else. It could make you forget the beauty and joy of what you found with him."

Good advice, Verbena thought as the back door slammed open, interrupting them.

"Miss Verbena?" Cal called out, his boots stomping in the foyer. "I've got your buggy ready to go. It's awful cold out there, so the horse shouldn't stand too long in this wind."

"Okay, I'll be right there." Her concern and love for her aunt made it hard to bound to her feet, harder still to walk away, so she gave Aumaleigh a hug first. "Will you be okay?"

"Me, I'm right as rain." Aumaleigh stood, patted Verbena's cheek lovingly. "I have you and your sisters in my life. What could be more of a gift than that? Now you drive safe. Are you sure you can handle that horse?"

"He's a sweetheart, he'll be gentle with me." She swirled away, buttoning her coat. "Can you come to supper again tonight? We'd love to have you."

"I'd love to be there. With Louisa managing things so well, I'll be able to make it. Now you get along." Aumaleigh led the way to the door. "You and Magnolia try and stay out of trouble, will you?"

"I'm sure we'll try, but trouble always finds us." Verbena gave the end of her scarf a toss over her shoulder and sauntered onto the porch. "Don't forget about supper."

"See you then." With a loving smile, Aumaleigh closed the door, leaving Verbena alone as she clomped down the steps. Cal had retreated back to the warmth of one of three barns up the way. A big bay gelding stood patiently waiting, hitched to their little buggy.

"Marlowe." She went straight to the older gelding and kissed his graying nose. "How is my favorite gentleman? I see you're handsome as always. This will be the first time I'm driving you without Magnolia with me. Do you think we can handle it?"

Marlowe's big brown eyes filled with horsy love. He blinked his long curly lashes, which was answer enough.

"Excellent. Then let's get moving. It is freezing. Understatement of the year." She'd thought Chicago winters were cold, but this was a major brrr. Shivering, she hopped onto the cushioned seat. Cal had been thoughtful enough to leave a buffalo robe, so she spread it over her and gathered the reins.

BOOK: High Mountain Drifter
5.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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