Read The Bounty Hunter's Redemption Online
Authors: Janet Dean
“Look what you lost.”
“Look what I gained.”
“Like what?” he all but bellowed.
“My lameness has taught me to depend on God, not on myself. To slow down and savor each moment of each day.”
“There are easier ways to learn that lesson.”
“Perhaps, but saving your life was worth any sacrifice. Even as a small boy, you were my champion. You’re still looking out for me.” Her voice caught. “Don’t you know I’d do it again in a heartbeat?”
Every cold crevice inside him filled with the warmth of his sister’s amazing mercy and love. “If only I could change that day.”
She tossed him a saucy grin. “If you’re determined to take responsibility, I’d say giving up bounty hunting is a fair trade.”
“I’d do anything for you. Anything but
that
.”
“I lost Walt. I can’t bear to lose you. Give it up, Nate, if not for me, for yourself.” She thumped him on the knee. “You’ll never find happiness until you make peace with God.”
How could he make peace with God when his heart burned for revenge? How could he make peace with God when he’d become Stogsdill’s judge and jury? How could he make peace with God when he wanted Stogsdill dead?
He wouldn’t confide in Anna, but tomorrow he’d ride out to the Pence place. Pretend an interest in Debby’s grandfather’s thoroughbred horses. See what he could learn about Rory.
Chapter Fifteen
I
f only Carly had the courage to ask the pastor the reason God hadn’t guided her better. Why He’d put such intimidating men in her life. First her father and then Max.
But with Henry beside her and others waiting to shake hands with Pastor Koontz, this wasn’t the time or place.
She looked forward to a quiet day with her son. He was growing up before her very eyes. In a few years he’d leave home. Perhaps after dinner she’d take Henry on a walk or play a game.
As they crossed toward home, she avoided the little knots of parishioners scattered on the church lawn. From the furtive glances coming her way, the topic of conversation was probably the controversy over her shop.
The day Nate had delivered the news she no longer had possession of the deed, she’d cried out to God, asking Him to save the shop. Yet she didn’t sense His support in the dispute. Was it fair to expect God to take her side when the deed would provide for the woman Max had made a widow?
She bit back a sigh. She’d married Max impulsively. She hadn’t taken the time to pray. She hadn’t trusted God to lead her. Instead, despite her qualms, she’d jumped into marriage. Her hasty actions had brought consequences. No wonder her marriage had been a nightmare. Still, if not for her marriage to Max, she wouldn’t have her son.
And you wouldn’t know Nate
, her traitorous mind whispered.
Her heart skipped a beat. When had she come around to believing Nate’s presence in her life was a good thing?
“Carly! Wait up.” Rosalie Harders, hat askew, her full cheeks flushed, dashed toward them, huffing and puffing with the effort. “Mercy...you’re harder...to catch...than a greased pig at the county fair.”
“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were looking for me.”
“Of course I would be. The whole church is talking about it.”
“About what?” As if Carly didn’t know.
“Why, about you and that bounty hunter and his sister sharing a pew.” She laid a gloved hand on her chest. “I’ll admit I was surprised, too, what with the disagreement over your shop and all. Then I figured you were doing what the Good Book says and heaping burning coals on your enemies’ heads.”
Carly stiffened. Enemies? Anna? Nate?
Perhaps once. But Anna had become a mainstay in the shop, a friend to both her and Henry. And Nate...
Well, he had become important to her son. Henry believed God had sent Nate to be his father. A child couldn’t be expected to understand the impossibility of such a hope. Carly certainly did. Still, Henry’s trust in the man didn’t make Nate her enemy.
“You should get to know Anna, Mrs. Harders. She’s an excellent seamstress and a wonderful woman.”
“Well, that’s what my boys say. They claim she’s sweeter than syrup-soaked bread. But what about that brother of hers? Doesn’t he keep you on edge?”
“Not in the least,” Carly said, asking forgiveness the moment the lie left her lips.
In truth, she wasn’t afraid of the man. She was afraid of the effect he had on her. Her attraction was hardly surprising, considering her other bad choices.
“Reckon there’s good in him. He’s given my boys work. Kept them so busy they’re too tired for Saturday night sprees. Come Sunday morning, they’re up in time for church.”
“I’m glad.”
“Well, I’d say you’re in a pickle, Carly, over that shop, but the Good Lord’s a master of messes. He’ll take care of you and Henry like He’s taken care of me and my boys.”
Carly’s shoulders tightened. Rosalie’s husband died around the time Carly had moved to Gnaw Bone. Without their father’s guidance, her sons had become unruly. Hardly encouraging, but she had seen the difference in the twins of late. They’d come into her shop clean-shaved and sporting haircuts. They fulfilled their obligations. “Gotta get home and feed my boys. They always tell me not to bother, they’ll get something at the diner, but what kind of mother would that make me?”
Behind their mother’s back, the Harders twins edged toward the café.
Rosalie turned in the direction of Carly’s gaze. “Oh, there you are! Come along. I’ll have food on the table in no time.”
Lester and Lloyd lumbered over, dragging their feet as if mired in mud. They tipped their hats at Carly and Lloyd chucked Henry under the chin.
“What you, uh, cooking, Ma?” Lester asked, stumbling over the question.
“Fried chicken.”
The color drained from the twins’ faces. Shoulders slumped, they tramped after their mother as downcast as men going to their own hanging.
No doubt Rosalie’s fried chicken would be burned to a crisp on the outside and, on the inside, as red as Carly’s geraniums.
Carly had to offer Lester and Lloyd a reprieve. “Mrs. Harders,” she called, “I’m frying chicken for dinner. Why don’t you and the boys join us?”
The smiles erupting on Lester’s and Lloyd’s faces out-dazzled the noonday sun.
“That’s right nice of you, Miz Richards,” Lloyd said.
Rosalie shook her head. “Goodness, I can’t put you to the trouble, Carly.”
“Ma, that’s no way to answer an invitation,” Lester said. “Why, you’ll hurt Miz Richards’s feelings.”
“Oh, mercy, and on the Lord’s Day, too.” Rosalie gave a nod. “We’d love to come. What time do you want us?”
“Give me an hour.”
“What can I bring?”
“Only your appetites.”
“I can’t come empty-handed. I’ll bring a jar of my bread-and-butter pickles.”
Lester bent down to Henry. “Ma makes the best pickles, Henry. They took first prize at the country fair.”
They moseyed off toward home, but Lester lagged behind. “We’re beholden to you, Miz Richards. We’ll burn your trash all summer,” he whispered, then jogged after his ma.
Suppressing a giggle, Carly took Henry’s hand and strolled on. She couldn’t undo the past and all the mistakes she’d made, but she could give the Harders brothers a decent meal, perhaps ensuring they would never again use her shop sign for target practice.
In truth, Nate was responsible for the positive change in the twins. When he moved on, would that change stick?
“Mama, will I still get a chicken leg?”
“Company chooses first,” Carly said, patting Henry’s shoulder.
“But there are three of them and a chicken’s got only two legs. I’m gonna pray I get one.”
“Henry, God wants us to share our best, not just what we don’t want.”
Henry’s crestfallen face put a lump in Carly’s throat. How had she dared to rebuke her son when she’d prayed for God to let her keep the shop? Even though Anna held the deed and was also a widow in need of a livelihood.
“You know,” Carly said, “sometimes trusting God with the outcome is hard. But that’s what He wants us to do.”
“Then I’ll get a chicken leg, Mama. ’Cause God loves me more’n Lester and Lloyd.”
Carly gasped. “Henry Austin Richards. Why would you say such a thing?”
“They shooted our sign. They’re bad.”
“Sweetie, God loves everyone. Even when they do things they shouldn’t.”
Henry turned wide blue eyes to hers. “Even Pa?”
“Yes. God loved your father, too.”
Hadn’t Carly questioned that very thing? Not just with Max, but also with Nate? Yet hadn’t she seen Nate’s underlying decency with her and Henry? With Anna? Even the Harders?
When he’d stepped into church, the vulnerable, wounded hurt in his gaze echoed her own struggles and tugged at her heart.
But then, he’d left before the service ended, as if issues with his faith separated him from God. Did Nate even understand God’s love?
Her breath caught. Hadn’t she questioned God’s love for her? Hadn’t she struggled to trust Him?
It had taken a small boy’s desire for a chicken leg to remind her that God’s love was unconditional. Deserved or not. Even when she made mistakes and didn’t trust His provision. That assurance flooded her with peace.
She leaned down and hugged Henry to her. “You know, this once, I’ll let you choose the piece of chicken first. I’m sure the Harders won’t mind.”
“I got me the bestest mama in the whole wide world!”
“God loves you and I love you.” She tapped him playfully on the tip of his upturned nose. “God loves me, too. Do you know one reason I’m sure that’s true?”
Eyes somber, lips slightly parted, Henry shook his head.
“Because He gave me you.”
* * *
Without throwing a single punch, Mood packed quite a wallop, his words slamming into Nate’s conscience with one-two precision.
As if Nate needed a reprimand after the fruitless meeting with Debby Pence’s grandfather. Either Pence knew nothing of importance, or was in cahoots with Stogsdill.
“Me and Betsy leave Friday. Didn’t plan on those two lamebrains running the livery,” Morris said, picking up speed.
Brow furrowed, his faded blue eyes drilling into Nate like an auger, Morris paced the livery office. One pant leg was caught in his boot, his suspenders in a twist as if he’d dressed in a hurry.
Nate suspected Mood’s reaction had more to do with fear for his ailing wife than with the Harders twins’ incompetency. “They’re good with horses.”
“I’ll give you that, but they got a lazy streak a mile long and a reputation in this here town that puts the good name of my business at risk.”
“Morris, the responsibility is good for them, is making men out of them.”
“Ain’t got a problem with them caring for the horses and mucking stalls, but I don’t want them dealing with the public.”
“All right. But you know I’ve got to ride out upon occasion. I can’t promise.”
He huffed and threw up his hands. “Reckon you’re driven to find that there outlaw. And can’t understand the importance of building a business, a home, a family. Taking care of those you love.”
At the barely veiled censure, Nate exhaled. “That’s why I’m here. To make sure Anna gets the seamstress shop and can provide for herself, no matter what happens to me.”
“Son, it don’t work to take what ain’t rightfully yours. God ain’t gonna bless that.”
“I didn’t ante the deed in a poker game.”
“Max deserves the blame, that’s sure. But the Good Book says to love your neighbor like yerself. That ain’t just words. That’s a call to action.”
“As I see it, Anna
is
my neighbor.” He owed her everything.
“Gotta be another way to help your sister. Think about it. Pray about it.”
Prayer or no prayer, Nate couldn’t do what Morris wanted.
The older man laid a knobby hand on Nate’s shoulder. “After we leave, the livery earnings are yours. Work hard and you can make a go of this. You’ll have no problem taking care of Anna without hurting a widow with a boy to feed.”
Nate’s gaze found the floor. The boards were dusty, worn. The gaps between the boards wide enough to lose a Morgan silver dollar in, yet these boards, this office, the livery, had served Mood well. The man had provided a vital function in the community while providing for him and his wife.
If Nate owned this livery, he could handle his and Anna’s expenses. If Anna continued to work for Carly, she could save her earnings and build a nest egg for the future, if anything happened to him. Morris saw the plan as an easy solution for all of them.
But Stogsdill might come soon to marry Debby. If Nate settled in, wasn’t vigilant, those he cared about could be in danger. “Morris, I’m a bounty hunter not a liveryman. This town can’t support two seamstresses. Even if Carly kept Anna on, where would my sister live once the livery sells and the cabin along with it?”
Mood sighed. “You’re good at putting up obstacles.”
“This mess isn’t my fault. Richards should’ve thought of his family before anteing that deed.”
“A reprobate like Max Richards don’t know nothing about duty.” Morris’s eyes snapped with anger. “I’ve seen him in action. Heard him, too. The way he treated Carly and Henry weren’t right.”
The thought of Carly and Henry living under Richards’s thumb sent a wave of fire cascading through Nate’s veins. His hands fisted. If only he’d been here to protect them.
Piercing blue eyes met Nate’s. “Now you’re aiming to hurt them, too.”
Morris’s words cut like an ax, chopping at Nate’s purpose. Carly deserved better than that scoundrel she’d married.
He admired her spunk, her work ethic, her love for Henry and kindness to Anna. She drew him like a mirage lured a thirsty wanderer in the desert. But a mirage was no more real for him than the life Morris touted.
If only things were different...
Even if he could find Stogsdill and put that behind him, he wasn’t a family man. He’d taken a different path at fifteen years of age when he’d buried their parents, then spent the next three years taking care of the farm and practicing with a gun.
The day Anna and Walt had married, he’d ridden out to find the men responsible. Eight years later, he’d brought in all but one member of that gang.
Stogsdill
.