High Mountain Drifter (9 page)

"One of us will come with you too, to help," Verbena spoke up, already concerned too. "Just in case."

All around her, the cowboys dismounted. Burton, in charge, scanning the street, churchyard. Kellan, surveying the churchyard. Shep gathered the horses and tethered them. Three other men spread out, eyes peeled for any sign of Ernest.

"Verbena, don't look so troubled." Aumaleigh fell into stride beside her as they headed toward the walkway. "They volunteered for the job. I didn't have to ask them. It's their decision to put themselves in harm's way for you girls. What, you don't think I couldn't see it on your face?"

"I'm just surprised you could tell. I was hoping it didn't show." The back of her neck tingled, as it had been all morning. "He's never far from me."

"Neither is that bounty hunter Milo brought in." Aumaleigh gestured to the far edge of the lawn.

There, across the block, stood a tall, shadowed figure of a man. Feet braced, powerful legs straight, a rifle slung against his steely shoulder. The force of his dark gaze radiated all the way across the block.

"I haven't met him yet," Aumaleigh said. "He put his things in the bunkhouse and rode back out. When I was serving supper in the dining room, he came into the kitchen to ask Josslyn to pack him a meal and a jug of coffee. I didn't get a chance to talk to him. I missed him at breakfast too. He certainly looks like a man able to do the job."

No kidding. Her feet stopped moving, she stood there, watching the man, heart pounding. Her sisters were chattering, leaning together, walking up ahead toward the front steps. Deputy Wade Wetherby tipped his hat in Rose's direction, and she blushed prettily.

"What's wrong?" Aumaleigh asked, stopping with her. She glanced around with concern. "Do you see something?"

"No, I just need to speak to Mr. Reed for a moment." She caught hold of her aunt's gloved hand and squeezed gently. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. Go on ahead, keep an eye on my sisters. You know they are prone to trouble."

"And so are you, little one." Aumaleigh's voice warmed with love. "I'll go with you."

"I need to speak with him alone. Please." She didn't want her aunt to hear what she had to say to the rugged bounty hunter. No, that was her business, and hers alone. "You can keep an eye on me until I reach him, if that will make you feel better. He'll see me safely back to the church steps. I promise."

"Well, it's against my better judgment." Aumaleigh bit her bottom lip, glancing from Burton to Kellan to Zane. "You're right, you're safe. I'm going to keep you in my sight, though."

"Fine. I won't be long." She let go of her aunt's hand and whirled away, hurrying across the spongy grass with her cane, rubbing rain drops off her cheek and chin. The wind picked up, driving it at an angle. She headed straight across the lawn, straight at Zane who stood unflinching, a dark silhouette in the autumn light, watching her come.

"Verbena!" Another man's voice called out from behind her, snagging her attention. "Why, you look lovelier than ever today in spring green. May I escort you in, my fair lady?"

Lawrence Latimer. Verbena skidded to a halt. He wore his Sunday best today, a large fitting wool coat that looked ten years old--in good shape, but still, sadly out of fashion. His handlebar mustache looked as if he'd waxed it to make the ends curl perfectly. He arched his brows, a hopeful suitor.

Ugh. She really didn't want poor Lawrence. But he looked so lonely standing there all by himself, a little man out of his element in rugged Montana Territory.

"Sorry, I need to speak to the bounty hunter. Excuse me." She offered him an apologetic smile as she continued on her way.

"I could help," Lawrence called out, but thankfully didn't follow her.

Interesting how Zane's chiseled, serious mouth held a smirk. She came to a breathless stop in front of him, and he arched a brow.

"Your suitor?" he asked.

"Not mine." She shook her head vehemently. "No more suitors. Remember?"

"Right. He looks persistent. He's still standing there, keeping an eye on you." Zane shifted the rifle to his other shoulder. "I could discourage him if you want."

"It might hurt his feelings." She blew out a sigh, checking over her shoulder. Yep, Lawrence stood there, rain drenched.

"What are you doing over here?" He nodded once in the direction of the church. "Shouldn't you be in there picking out a pew with your sisters?"

"They are the reason I'm here." She tossed her head and droplets fell off her hood. "Have you made any progress tracking Ernest?"

"I picked up what I thought was his trail in the woods about a mile behind your house, up near the snowline." Grim, the corners of his mouth pulled downward, etching deep lines into his lean cheeks. He'd shaved this morning and the clean line of his jaw looked as invincible as the man. "Must have been him or his accomplice because it led me here. Tracks stop. He disappeared here."

He pointed to the ground beside her. Two boot prints had filled with water, standing just behind the limbs of an evergreen tree at the edge of the church's property. Had it been Ernest? Whoever it was, her stomach twisted into a knot. She knew he hadn't gone far.

"You were up on the mountain this morning." She glanced around the street. Muddy, with deep wagon ruts filled with water. A family was down a ways, huddled in their wagon, pulled by a big, gray-muzzled draft horse, heading toward church. Across the street were homes, some windows dark, some golden with lamplight. An icy wind breezed against her and she shivered. "You must be an early riser."

"I worked all night." Muscles bunched along his jaw line. "That's when he's your greatest threat. He's attacked twice at night. Now, he might change things next time, but he'd be too recognizable during the day, at least around the ranch. His best chance of grabbing you is when you are vulnerable, when every one of your sisters isn't keeping a sharp eye out for him."

"Right, because at night they'd be asleep, like last time," she finished. That's what she believed too. It's why she'd been able to talk her sisters into daytime outings to the store and church. "What about you? When are you going to get some rest?"

"I'll grab a few hours' sleep after you're home from church." His gaze scanned the churchyard and beyond, methodically watching, searching faces, on alert. "I've got an advantage this time of year with the rain. With the ground soggy, it's tough not to leave a footprint. Craddock wasn't expecting me. Something tells me he's keeping an eye on the sheriff, or his accomplice is. That helps him stay ahead of the previous searches. Not this time."

"But if he sees you coming, if he knows you’re here, won't that give him the advantage again?" Her stomach knotted tighter, and she could feel Ernest, as if he was so close he could reach out and touch her. She whirled around but she saw nothing.

"It doesn't matter. I'll get him anyway. He won't know what to expect from me." Matter-of-fact, as if he were discussing the weather. "When I'm done here, I'll head out and follow his back trail. See if I can't find where he's hiding out."

"If you do, then maybe this will be over quickly." Relief surged out of her, roaring like an ocean wave, buckling her knees. She reached out with her free hand and he was there, his hand wrapping around her elbow, keeping her from falling. The zap of sensation from his touch jolted down her arm, straight to her heart. Heat from his fingers pressed through the fabric of her coat and dress, scorching her skin like a brand. Her pulse kicked frantically, thumping erratically in her veins.

"There's no telling how long this will take." He released her, watching her to make sure she stayed standing. "It's a process. I root him out. If I can't make a capture then, I force him out of his comfort zone. Take away his control. His home, his associates, his safe ground. I take it all away until he's run out of every contingency. He'll make a mistake, and I'll take advantage of that. I will win."

He seemed absolutely positive. Verbena took some comfort in that as she tried to stay balanced on her wobbly knees. Her arm burned where he'd touched her. Her heartbeat still skipped beats.

She wanted to say that her reaction to his touch was because she felt Ernest's presence. She'd remembered the terror of being held captive in that line shack with her dress torn and beaten so badly her eyes wouldn't focus, with the cold mountain air breezing over her bare legs. But it wasn't fear she felt, it wasn't even residual trauma. It was because of the man at her side. No one could be more rough and rugged than Zane Reed, yet she felt safe with him. She couldn’t explain why.

"You didn't answer my question." Curiosity warmed his words, drove the hardness from his tone. "Why are you standing outside with me in the rain? It looks like the service is starting."

"Because I need to talk to you." She twisted around, swiping rain off her face, in time to see Lawrence dragging himself up the steps, perhaps resigned she did not need his protection from the fearsome looking stranger after all.

Aumaleigh still perched on the top step, huddled in the shelter of the overhead little roof, watchfully. Totally unnecessary. Verbena waved at her aunt, gesturing for her to go in but Aumaleigh shook her head. She wasn't budging. The churchyard was empty, the windows in the church gleaming with lamplight.

"Fine. I'll come by your house around suppertime, and we'll talk." He nodded toward the front steps. "Your aunt is waiting for you. Go in out of the rain."

"No, I don't want anyone to overhear what I want to say. My sisters will try to listen in, and I don't want that. We talk now." She gazed up at him with those rich blue eyes, the shade of the finest sapphires. Her heart shone there, unprotected. She was troubled. "I've thought over what you said yesterday, and if you are doing this as a favor for Milo, then he's in charge. And I want to be."

"No one is in charge of me." He almost smiled at that. Funny. "Why is that important to you? Because you're a woman and you like to boss men around?"

"See, I think you're joking with me but I can't tell." She squinted up at him, the corners of her soft, lush mouth tugging upward. "You're a hard man to read."

"You don't need to read me. What you see is what you get." He'd have liked to say he had layers, depth, that he was a man worthy of a normal life. But he had never fit in, no one had ever wanted him. Never would. Well, that was alright with him. He shifted the rifle against his shoulder, glancing behind him on the street. Casual, but his gaze was sharp.

"I want to help you hunt down Ernest." Her tone was unflinching, straight and direct. She couldn’t have surprised him more.

"You want to
ride
with me?" He shook his head, imagining her at risk in the forest. Adamant, he clamped his jaw tight. "Not going to happen."

"No, I mean, there has to be a way to bring him out in the open." She was trembling in fine little quakes. Her eyes had dilated, her gaze beseeching. This scared her, but she was brave. "If I draw him out, then you don't have to spend your time tracking him. You could just capture him and be done with it. Then my sisters are safe faster."

"Ah." Realization dawned. "We're back to the sisters again."

"Yes." Agony turned her eyes almost black. Her exquisite face crinkled up with worry lines. Genuine and true, no pretense there. Just a woman who cared more for her family. "Every day he isn't caught means it's another day my sisters could be hurt. He's already caused so much harm, and I need to stop him."

"I'm here for that," he reminded her, his chest tangling up so hard it hurt to breathe. Interesting. "You can't help. You'd be putting yourself at risk."

"I don't care." Unwavering, she clenched her fists, staring up at him steely-eyed.

The woman was getting to him. He had to look away, watching the aunt instead standing in front of the closed church door, reluctant to leave her precious niece alone with a man like him. He couldn’t blame her there, that was always the consensus. He knew that others thought he was a killer--and he couldn’t deny it. He'd killed. He would do it again if he had to.

"I care," he admitted. That was the truth and far more emotional than he'd ever been, not at least in a long time. "We'll talk about this later. I'll stop by when I can and make it clear to your sisters I need to talk to you alone, no argument. How's that?"

"Okay." Relief brightened her eyes. Gratitude gentled her face, chasing the worry lines from her forehead and from around her rosebud mouth. "Thank you. Come to the kitchen door. I'll be there to let you in."

"It's a deal, then." He had to steel the walls of his heart when she smiled up at him, beaming a sincerity that rocked him back on his heels. For all her incredible outward beauty, Verbena McPhee had a heart that outshone it.

He felt humbled, for all the conclusions he'd made about women over the years. She was like sunshine walking, even in the rain. He couldn’t take his gaze off her as she crossed the sodden grass. At the top of the steps she gave her aunt a hug, reassuring her, and the two of them went into the church together.

Leaving him alone.

Yeah, he thought, tightening his grip on his gun. He was going to bring this man in hard and fast. No one was going to hurt Verbena McPhee. Not on his watch.

She thought of Zane through the service. He stayed at the back of her mind, alone, solitary. The brand of his touch to her arm remained, duller now as the hour passed and the last notes of the closing hymn faded. Overhead rain beat harder against the roof than it had before. He was out there in that, searching for Ernest. She was grateful for that.

"Magnolia, did you have to fidget the entire time?" Rose rolled her eyes, threading her way into the aisle. "You kept bumping me."

"I couldn't help it. I kept trying to keep an eye on Tyler." Magnolia went up on tiptoe, peering through the crowd spilling into the aisle. "He came in late. He's in the back. I can't see him."

"I can," Iris said. "He's waiting for you by the door."

Verbena scooted forward in the crush, unable to keep her mind from circling back to Zane. Where was he now? Back on the mountain? In the ice and snow? He was there on her behalf, exposing himself to danger for her--regardless if he was used to danger, he was still at risk. Ernest was somewhere here in town, he likely could have spotted Zane, realized the man was tracking him. The last two men who'd gotten in Ernest's way had been knifed from behind. So it was natural to be concerned about Zane out there in the forest alone, right?