She gasped and staggered backward until her back was against the wall. Stars swirled before her eyes, nausea rising in her throat. She pressed her hand against her mouth.
“Take a deep breath.” Wes put his arm around her waist. “Steady now.”
She did as he said and sucked in a long breath. “I’m okay.” She nodded her head at the stain. “That’s where I found them.”
“Figured as much. Tell me why were you and Roy in town that evening.”
“It was Roy’s idea. He was home from one of his trips. He said it’d been a good trip. A lucrative trip.” She huffed out a breath. “If I’d only known. He said we should celebrate, and that he’d reserved a suite at the Wainwright House.”
“Tell me what happened from the time you checked in until…it happened.”
A cold sweat broke out on her forehead, and she ran her hand across it.
You can do this
, she told herself.
This is what you’ve waited for the last three years.
“Well, we went down to dinner. I remember the dining room being full. There was music, and I wanted to dance. But we never did. We had a couple of glasses of wine, and Roy ordered our food.” She paused, remembering that night like it was yesterday.
“Good. You’re doing great. Then what happened? Did Roy talk to anyone?”
She nodded. “Yes. We were about ready to leave when two men stopped by our table. I didn’t know them. They were all duded up. Later, when I asked him about them, he brushed it aside.”
“What did they talk about?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t pay much attention. An up-coming business trip they said, and some goods they were going to get.”
“Did you see these men again?”
“No.”
“Would you recognize them?”
“I think so.”
“All right. Go on.”
“Oh, yeah, Sheriff Russell came by. I remember him telling me how beautiful I looked. Made me very uneasy, but Roy just laughed.” Goosebumps rose on her arms, and she rubbed her skin. “After dinner, I went up to bed. Roy said he was going to have a drink—”
“Where?”
She shrugged again. “I assumed at the saloon.”
“The saloon where Rose Morales and Rita Jones worked?”
“I don’t know. I guess so.” When Wes nodded, she continued. “I fell asleep. Later, loud voices woke me. It was Roy and someone else—arguing. I didn’t recognize the voice. So I got up and headed downstairs. I saw…them.”
“Was there anyone else in the room?”
“Yes.” Tears filled her eyes. “I didn’t see him right away, but there was a man on the stairs. I swear it. No one believes me, but I think he hit me over the head, and I fell…on top of Roy. I’ll always remember Roy’s glazed eyes and the shocked look on his face. And her face too. There was so much blood. And then the sheriff was there.”
“The man on the stairs? Can you describe him?”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I see him in my nightmares, but he’s always in shadow. And just when I think I can see him clearly, he laughs, like he’s mocking me. Then he disappears back into the shadows. I feel…such evil…it frightens me.”
“How did the sheriff get into the room? You said he was there when you came to. So he must have been close by. How did he get into the room? Was it locked?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I locked it when I went to bed. I don’t know when Roy came back. I never heard him come in. He never came to bed.”
“Sounds like someone was waiting for him when he came from the saloon. Did you hear a shot? One shot? Or more than one?”
“One shot. First, I heard loud voices. Roy was arguing with someone. Oh, Wes, I didn’t kill Roy—I loved him. He was my husband.”
“Naomi, honey, I believe you. You know I do.”
He opened his arms to her, and she wrapped herself in his embrace, reveling in the fact that he believed her.
“If there was only one shot,” he said, “then the woman was killed somewhere else and brought there. If that’s the way it happened, someone had it all planned out. That’s for sure. But who? Who would benefit the most from Roy’s death—and framing you?”
“I’ve thought and thought on that over the last three years. Maybe Roy wasn’t the boss of the gang after all. Maybe Roy told the man in the shadows that he wanted out, and maybe that man killed him, afraid Roy would reveal his identity.”
Wes nodded. “Sounds logical to me. Maybe the man on the stairs thought you could identify him, so he killed two birds with one stone.” He locked gazes with her. “You said Roy might want out. Why?”
Naomi hesitated. The loss of her baby still cut deep into her soul. But it wasn’t fair to ask so much of Wes and not level with him. She took a deep breath. “He found out he was going to be a father.”
Wes’s mouth gaped open. “Oh.”
“I lost the baby in prison.”
A curse escaped his lips. “Ohmigod, Naomi. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“No one knew. I didn’t tell anyone.”
“Dammit! Did you tell your attorney? Maybe he could’ve—”
“He didn’t think it would help. He said it would help to prove I was jealous and didn’t want to lose Roy.”
“But it might have swayed—I guess it’s too late to second guess his decision.”
“Yeah. Wes, I’d like to ask you one more favor. And this will be the last one. I promise you.”
He threw up his hands. “Why not? What?’
Despite her apprehension, she laughed. “I want to go out to the ranch.”
“Why? It’s not your ranch any more. Why do you keep torturing yourself?
She wrinkled her brow. “Because something keeps nagging at me. I can’t quite put a finger on it, but I feel like I’m missing something…a piece of the puzzle.”
“The new owner might now like us showing up. Did you think of that?”
“He won’t even know we’re there. I don’t want to go to the house. There’s a wooded knoll overlooking the house with a big pine tree. I want to go there.”
“All right. I don’t see why, but if that’s what you want, I’ll take you there. I’ll meet you at the stable in an hour. I know you’ll go even if I say no, so I might as well go with you.”
“You do know me, don’t you? Thanks.”
****
As Wes returned to his room, he mulled over what Naomi had told him. His heart ached for her. Losing the baby would have been the final straw for most women. He didn’t understand Naomi’s reasoning for wanting to go out to the Brecker ranch, but he knew her well enough to know if he didn’t go with her, she’d go alone. And the danger was present and real.
After washing up and changing his clothes, he sat down to finish his report to Warden Campbell. As he wrote, he felt as if he was betraying Naomi. But this was part of his job, and he had to do it. Afterwards, with a resigned sigh, he checked his gun and ammunition. No telling what they’d find—or who they’d run into—out there.
Fifteen minutes later, he walked out of the hotel and into the street. Habit took over, and he scanned the street. Everything looked quiet. No hard cases lined the sidewalks. Several women with shopping bags eyed him curiously. He doffed his hat, grinning to himself as they scurried by, sweeping their skirts aside.
As he passed the sheriff’s office, Bert Russell walked out, almost running into him.
“Cooper.”
“Russell.”
“You leaving town?”
“Nope.” Wes pushed by the man. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Just hope you know what you’re doing. People here aren’t keen that you’re here with that woman. Could be dangerous.” Russell pushed his hat back.
Wes stopped and locked gazes with Russell. “You threatening me, Bert?”
“Who me? Of course not. Just a friendly warning. Heard tell you and her were over to the old Wainwright House. What were you doing there?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Everything that happens in Gila Bend is my business.”
“My business is not your business.” Wes paused to make sure Russell got the picture. “That clear?”
Russell’s chest swelled up like a banty rooster. He wanted to say something but evidently thought the better of it. With a shake of his head, he sauntered off. Wes stared at his retreating figure. Bert sure was curious about his plans. He had a hunch that Russell had been involved, in some way, in the death of Roy Brecker.
A glimpse toward the stable showed Naomi waiting at the door. Clad in riding pants and a blue shirt, her honey-blonde hair glowed golden in the light. She’d been through so much, yet she’d hung on—persevered. Finding out that she’d lost her baby in prison cut him to the core. So what if she wanted some of the money for herself? Could he blame her? Maybe she considered that a small payment for the loss of her child.
She turned and smiled at him, sending warmth spreading throughout his body. Every time he looked at her, his heart seemed to fill up. He was in love with Naomi Brecker. He’d fought it for as long as he could. Ethical or not, that’s the way the cards had fallen. So what to do now? The thought of living without her was unbearable. So there was only one thing to do. He’d resign his position as U.S. Marshal, find out who killed Roy Brecker, then take Naomi and leave this hell hole. That is, if she agreed. How did she feel about him? Oh, he knew she desired him, as he desired her. Had even said so. But was it because, as she had said at their first kiss, that, after three long years in prison, she needed some human contact?
Well, it was time to tell her how he felt—and see how she would react.
As he approached her, he touched the brim of his hat. “Naomi, you look beautiful.”
His words took her by surprise. She raised her eyebrows in a silent question. “Why, thank you.”
“Just telling it straight.” He hesitated, wanting to tell her at that moment how much he cared, but two cowpokes sauntered by. He’d do it later when they were alone. “You sure you still want to make this ride?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I guess I’m a little bit touched in the head.” She smiled at him, put her hat on, and mounted her horse. “I asked the stable boy to saddle our horses before he left. I hope that was okay.”
“Sure. I’m ready. Let’s ride.” He climbed into the saddle and turned to watch Naomi. He liked the way her pants fit her rounded derriere and the way her blouse tightened over her breasts. In fact, he liked everything about her.
She led the way out of the stable, and a nudge of his heels sent his gelding after her. As they rode down the street, curious eyes followed them. He noted how she notched her chin up and ignored the people. Good for her.
A couple of hours later, the land rose, heading into the foothills. Pretty land, this piece of the country. Rolling green hills, lush trees, mountains in the distance, and a sky that seemed to reach forever.
Ahead, Naomi reined in her horse and turned to him. “This is where my ranch starts, er, I mean, the ranch I used to own. We can follow the tree line and go around.”
Wes could see the tension in her building. Her posture changed from relaxed to rigid. Her lips thinned, and she worried her bottom lip. Her fists tightened on the reins, sending her horse prancing nervously. For a moment, he regretted bring her out here, but she’d have come on her own. “Good idea. Lead the way.”
She nodded, then steered her horse off the road and up the rise. The land rose, the hills rolling like waves. The trees thickened, and he slowed his horse to a walk. Naomi dismounted and led the way on foot. He slid out of the saddle and followed her. After a few minutes, a huge pine came into view. He glanced at Naomi and saw tears in her eyes.
“I used to come up here a lot when Roy was gone. I loved the fresh scent of pine.” She slid from the saddle, walked to the tree and touched the rough bark. “This was where I had the happiest day of my life,” she whispered. “I had just found out I was pregnant, and I told Roy right here under this tree.”
Wes was at a loss for words. Why she’d felt she had to come back here eluded him. He made it a habit to stay away from painful memories.
“Look,” Naomi said and pointed. “You can see the house from here. It looks almost the same as when I left it.”
Wes moved to stand beside her. “It’s a nice place. Did you run cattle?”
“We had a few, but since Roy was never there, we never built up much of a herd.” She pointed to the side of the house. “I had roses in the front, and I used to have a garden over there.”
“Sorry, honey.”
“It’s not your fault. Look, there’s people coming out of the house.” She leaned forward to get a better look. A gasp escaped her lips, and she slumped against the tree trunk, her face white as a ghost.
Wes rushed to her side. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”
With a trembling hand, she pointed at the house. Wes glanced in that direction and saw three men had walked out of the house.
“That’s him,” she said and clutched her hand to her heart. “The man in the brown jacket. That’s the man on the stairs, the man in my nightmares.”
Wes shook his head. Had she gone loco? “That can’t be.”
Her eyes widened, and she nodded. “But it’s true. That’s him. I could never forget his face, and those others. They’re the ones who were at the Wainwright House the night Roy was killed. I swear it.”