At the Crossroads (Buckhorn, Montana #3)(12)

Just the thought of losing him... It was one thing to move to Arizona knowing he was alive and well in Montana. It was another to know she’d never see that smile of his again. Tears blurred her vision as she walked back into the kitchen and pulled down an oven mitt to check the cinnamon rolls.

That’s when she saw the gun.

Her gaze shifted to the cowboy working at the grill. “Don’t get these people killed,” Bessie whispered, not looking at him.

FROM THE CORNER of his eye, Culhane could see the set of Bessie’s jaw. He thought about telling her that he was a former deputy. He didn’t want her thinking he was one of these fools out there with guns, but then again, he now found himself a wanted man on the wrong side of the law.

Otherwise he wouldn’t be wanted for murder with bounty hunter Alexis Brand after him and now trapped with him in this café. That part hurt the most. He hadn’t wanted her involved in his mess, and yet here she was, both of them risking their lives because of his bad decision seven years ago.

“I’ll do my best,” he said quietly to Bessie.

“I need to get my cinnamon rolls out of the oven,” she said as the timer went off. Her voice broke, and she cringed at the sight of the cook lying dead on the floor. She bit her lower lip as if to hold back tears and lifted her chin. The woman was a trooper, he could see that. He wondered about the older man who’d gone outside with Gene, wondered about their relationship, and hoped Earl Ray knew what he was doing.

Culhane lowered his voice. “Take your time. You’re better off in here than out there.”

She studied him for a moment before glancing out the pass-through. He knew she was looking at the gray van parked out front. He’d already seen that the side door was open and only Gene was visible, standing outside no doubt supervising.

“Those customers out there,” she said quietly. “I’ve known them all my life. They’re like family. A dysfunctional family, I’ll admit, but they’re mine.”

He met her gaze and nodded. “I understand.”

She glanced from him to Alexis. “Maybe you do.” She sighed. “If you need more of anything, there’s the walk-in out back.”

“Thanks,” he said, seeing how nervous and upset she was but trying hard to keep it in because of the others. He watched her as she put on the oven mitt, opened the oven door and took out a large tray. The kitchen filled with the smell of hot, fresh cinnamon rolls with that underlying hint of blood and gunpowder.

He saw her start to put the mitt back on the shelf to hide the gun—and hesitate. He shook his head slowly. She held his gaze for a long moment before she dropped the mitt back over the gun and reached for a knife to cut the cinnamon rolls.

Culhane went to work cooking. When he was sixteen, he’d left home and ended up working as a wrangler packing hunters into the mountains. He got the job because he’d told the man he could cook. Turned out he was terrible at it, but after getting insults and even more painful objects thrown at him, he’d gotten the hang of it. If he could cook over a campfire, he should be able to cook on a grill.

On the radio, a Christmas song finished, and the news come on. The top story was about a bank robbery by three masked men in Idaho that had ended with the deaths of two bystanders and a guard. One of the robbers had been wounded. He quickly reached up and turned off the radio as the announcer began to give descriptions of the men.

ALEXIS SAW THE man Gene had called Eric move to the end of the counter and look in her direction. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck rise as goose bumps raced across her skin. She willed herself to ignore him as she picked up her coffee cup and took a sip. Her hand was steady, just like her resolve. She’d faced down men like this one before.

But this time, the stakes were much higher with a building full of innocent people—and Culhane. Not that she could consider him innocent even on a good day. But he had a target on his back already. She didn’t want these men—whoever they were—to keep her from taking him back to jail.

She still believed in justice, even though she and Culhane had gotten little when the new sheriff had used them both as scapegoats, leading to their terminations. She’d taken it better than he had. Not that she didn’t want to see Sheriff Willy Garwood get what he had coming to him.

“At least you’ve never been one to hold a grudge,” she’d joked sarcastically at the time. Not only was he in the middle of a wrongful discharge lawsuit with the sheriff’s department, he wanted to see Willy fired and put behind bars.

Culhane had laughed and leaned back, looking as if he hadn’t had a care in the world. “Willy will get what’s coming to him one way or another.”

She’d looked over at him from where she lay naked in his bed. She’d thought they were on the same side. “You aren’t talking about taking justice into your own hands, are you?”

“There is no justice—at least not the kind you’re talking about. You should know that by now, Alex.”

She’d been upset with him and his attitude. Admittedly, it was one reason she’d become a bounty hunter. She did believe in justice, and damned if she wouldn’t get it. She’d just never imagined that she’d be hunting Culhane—especially for murder. Not to even mention that he had a wife. How was that possible?

As the scent of cinnamon rolls wafted throughout, Eric said, “I want one of those. How about you, pretty lady? You want one?”