Dalton, Tymber - Hernando Heat (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (11 page)

She poured him a basin of water so he could clean up. Then he coaxed her into going with him to eat at the little restaurant in the hotel on the main square across from the courthouse. At the restaurant, it seemed as if everyone in Brooksville came up to them and congratulated them on their pending nuptials.

No one seemed a bit upset about Dorchester sitting in Sheriff Birch’s jail.

Finally, during a lull in the well-wishes, she leaned close across the table. “You’d better have that talk awfully fast with Mason,” she whispered. “I don’t want him hearing it from someone else. Word’s spreading like wildfire.”

He grimly nodded. “I’m considering riding up after them myself.”

“Maybe you should.”

His head snapped up from his cup of coffee. “If you think I’m leaving you alone, think again!” He reached across the table and laced his fingers through hers.

She managed a smile. “So when is our wedding, Mr. Lansing?”

He sighed. “I suppose as soon as possible, once Mason’s back.” He squeezed her fingers. “This will be okay,” he whispered. “It will all work out. I promise.”

She wondered how many times he’d have to say it before he started to believe it himself.

Chapter Nine

Mason hated riding posses. If there was one part of his job he’d gladly do without, it was this. Not that he was old, but he wasn’t nearly as young as the Campbell brothers, eighteen and nineteen, and Joss Porter, twenty. Those men had no trouble sleeping out every night after riding all day and awaking fresh as sunshine the next morning, while he was left to cover his groans and popping joints with the sound of coughing.

Unfortunately, this time he couldn’t bring their quarry back alive. The man had holed up in an old shack and refused to come out, firing on them when they closed in. They’d returned fire and killed him.

No need for a trial, at least. And since the man admitted his guilt when he was yelling at them that they’d never take him alive, swearing that the victim deserved killing, Mason’s conscience felt clear.

At least on that point.

He laid there a little before dawn, determined to make home before lunch, where he could have a bath and a hot meal, put on clean clothes, grab a fresh horse, and ride to town to see Katie.

And have a talk with her.

He didn’t want to wait until that evening to let her know he was stepping aside. Joe deserved happiness.

It’d break his heart, but he’d survive.

He’d deal with the jealousy somehow. But it was more important to him for Joe to be happy. Joe hadn’t smiled as much or as broadly in years as he had over the past few weeks with Katie around. Only a fool would miss that.

He refused to deny him that happiness. God knew Katie had suffered more than her fair share of grief, enough to last her several lifetimes. They could help each other heal. They had so much, including that, in common.

Finally he arose, washed up in the creek they’d camped beside, and nudged the others awake. Skipping breakfast, they saddled up and rode, splitting up just north of Brooksville. Joss, who lived in town, volunteered to report back to Sheriff Birch for him, to let him know they’d returned and that Mason would be in to talk to him that afternoon.

As the house appeared before him on the road, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Home.

One of the stable hands took his horse for him and would swap the gelding out for a fresh one for Mason’s ride to town. Inside the house, on his way to his room, he paused at Katie’s door. After hesitating, he opened it. The clock, which he knew she wound religiously every day, sat on a shelf alongside the picture of her husband.

He tried to convince himself this was for the best, the right thing, despite how much it hurt now that he was home again. He drew water into the washtub on the back porch, cleaned up, and put on a clean change of clothes.

I want her to be happy. She deserves better than a deputy she has to worry about getting shot. Joe’s responsible, a businessman. Respectable. He can provide for her.

The ride home had given him time to think. Joe had protested when Mason revealed his intentions not to court her, but neither had he denied he had feelings for her, either. Joe had been so happy these past few weeks since she came into their lives.

No, this was for the best.

He ripped a hunk of bread off a loaf and took it with him to snack on during his ride to town.

Inside, he felt his heart dying and tried to ignore it.

He was halfway to town when he came up on one of their ranch hands heading toward him, driving a wagon full of supplies.

Calvin Rodgers reined the team to a stop and pushed his hat back on his head. Mason wasn’t so sure he liked the grin on the man’s face. “I heard you was back. Ran into Joss in town. Congratulations!”

Mason tried to tamp down his irritation. “What are you talking about?”

“About you gaining a sister-in-law, so to speak.” He spit a mouthful of tobacco into the dirt. “Dorchester Senior’s gonna be right sore when he finds out he cain’t bail Junior out of Sheriff’s hoosegow!”

Mason leaned forward in the saddle, his heart freezing despite the heat. “What are you talking about?” he asked again.

Calvin looked a little confused. “I figured you’d already heard. Sheriff said he thought someone rode out to tell you. Dorchester Junior’s sitting in his jail. He attacked Widow Dorchester this morning.”

“Katie? Is she all right?”

“Yeah. Joe showed up jus’ in time and beat the tar outta Junior. Junior got mouthy wit’ him, and that’s when Joe spilled the beans to everyone ’bout him and the widow plannin’ on getting’ hitched.” He tipped his hat to Mason. “Congratulations.”

Numb shock washed through Mason as he nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Calvin hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the load. “I gots to get this back to the ranch or boss’ gonna have my hide.” He snapped the reins as Mason moved his horse out of the way.

It was one thing to do what was right and honorable, and another thing for the man he considered a brother to swoop right in and take it right out from under him, even if he’d already said he was going to step aside.

He stared at the dusty road leading to Brooksville and decided he didn’t want to face either one of them right then. Not to mention the rest of the town. He waited until Calvin crested a rise in the road. Then Mason turned off the road and headed his horse across an alfalfa field. He could cut through the woods and hit a little gin shack just north of town and buy a bottle of whiskey.

* * * *

Katie worried when she heard the posse had returned, but there was no sign of Mason in town. Joe told her not to worry, that Mason was likely at home getting cleaned up, or had been called out to take care of other matters. She hoped he was right, but her intuition had other ideas.

Joe stared down at her as they rode home. “Talk to me.”

She shook her head. “I’m worried about Mason. And I’m worried about what Junior’s father is going to do when he finds out the sheriff won’t release him on bail. The justice of the peace is a friend of Senior’s.”

“Yeah, but Judge Kenning’s daughter is married to the sheriff’s brother-in-law.” Joe smiled. “And their family don’t like the Dorchesters at all. Believe me, if Judge Kenning has to choose between the Dorchesters or his blood relations, especially his only baby girl, Dorchester will lose every time.”

That was only moderately comforting news to Katie.

By the time they arrived home, Katie’s worries had ballooned into full-blown fear. When Calvin emerged from the barn to come take care of the team, she asked him the question she wasn’t sure she wanted answered. “Have you seen Mason?”

Calvin unwound the reins from the hitching post where Joe had tied them. “Yes, ma’am. Ran into him earlier today on my way back from town.” He frowned. “Didn’t he make it to town? That’s where he was heading, or so I took it.”

Katie exchanged a worried glance with Joe. “No, he never did.”

“I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t upset him.”

“Upset him?” Joe asked.

“Yessir. I told him about the attack on Miz Katie, and offered my congratulations on your pending nuptials.” He grabbed his hat and tipped it at Katie. “Ma’am. Congratulations, by the way.”

She numbly nodded. “Thank you.” She was barely aware of Joe’s hand gently catching her elbow and steering her toward the house.

He leaned down to speak in her ear. “Katie, this doesn’t mean—”

She wheeled on him. “It means he’s upset,” she angrily hissed. “This is all my fault!” She stomped up the steps to the house, Joe close on her heels.

“How can you say this is your fault?” he asked. A rumble of thunder from a late afternoon storm punctuated his question as he caught up to her at the front door.

Was he truly that dense?
“Because,” she said, her vision blurry from tears as she fumbled for the latch, “if I hadn’t moved in with y’all, none of this would have happened!”

He forced her to turn around and look at him. “You saying you ashamed of me? Or that you don’t love me?”

Her throat hurt from the effort it took to choke back her sobs. “No,” she whispered. “That’s not what I’m saying. I just don’t think very kindly of myself right now.”

Joe gently cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. “This will be okay,” he assured her. “I will talk with him and believe me, it will be all right.” He reached around her to open the door as the sky broke open and a deluge of fat raindrops pattered against the grass in the yard.

She stared out from the safety of the porch. “You should go look for him,” she softly said. “Make sure he’s okay.”

“He’s okay, Katie. I’m sure of it. He might be drowning his misery in a bottle of whiskey, but he’s okay. He’ll come home when he’s good and ready to, and then I can talk to him.” He pressed his hand into the small of her back and guided her through the door into the dim house. “Go on, now,” he gently said. “Go change into your house coat and wash your face and I’ll help you with dinner.”

Nodding and still close to tears, she headed to her bedroom. She closed the door behind her, resting her forehead against it for a moment before turning. The first thing she saw was the clock and picture of Paul.

That brought on a renewed spate of tears that left her sprawled across her bed. She never heard her door open a few minutes later, but she felt Joe’s touch and the mattress sink beside her as he gathered her into his arms. A renewed bout of crying left her sniffling, her cheek pressed against his shoulder as he stroked her hair.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“No. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel better again.”

He tipped her chin to look into her eyes. “Stop thinking like that. Let me talk to him before you go assuming the worst.”

She glanced out the window, where the rain had stopped and the greenish-grey light of dusk had settled across the yard, with speckles of golden sunlight holding on for dear life as the sun sank below the trees on the other side of the pastures.

“It’s late. Shouldn’t he be back by now? Can’t you please go look for him?”

He kissed her forehead and sat up, pulling her with him. “I don’t need to. He’ll come home when he’s ready.” He stood and held out his hand. She finally took it and he helped her stand. “Change, wash up, and meet me in the kitchen.”

She nodded and he kissed her again before leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Trying to avoid looking at Paul’s photograph, she quickly shed her dress and donned a simple, comfortable housedress. Joe was already out in the kitchen and had fired up the stove to boil water for the potatoes. When she heard the sound of hoofbeats in the yard, she almost didn’t recognize the angry, slurred bellow accompanying them.