Love on the Range (Brothers in Arms #3)(35)

“At least now, if I’m right about that loose floorboard, the next chance I get, I should be able to open it. That’s progress.”

“Should we try and get him out of the house again soon? I could tell him I’ve got questions, or I want him to inspect something. I’ve been hunting around inside my head, thinking up questions I could ask. Now I’m afraid to even go and do normal cattle chores. I should’ve known he’d gone off.”

“I think sooner is better,” Molly said. “He’s starting to scare me. I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to. Come to the house tomorrow and get him out of here. I may not get into the safe in one try, but having more time will help—even if it just helps me eliminate wrong ways to get that floorboard up.”

“Can you handle the combination?”

“I’ve practiced, like you told me, on the safe in his office.”

Wyatt thought of those account books they’d found in the office safe. He’d been going through them when he could stay awake, but tonight his head almost buzzed with fatigue.

“I’ve got it figured out now. I hope.”

Nodding, Wyatt touched her shoulder. “If he ever lays a hand on you, I will protect you. Even if that means we don’t prove he committed a crime, and we both get kicked out.”

“Agreed. If for any reason he fires you, I’m going too. I won’t stay here without you.”

He hesitated. His hand tightened on her arm. He wanted to talk to her of the future. Talk to her about staying at the RHR as his wife. Kiss her again. Wake up with her again.

It was all so impossible when he was in her room in the night. He didn’t dare begin anything until they could see each other in an open and honorable way. He’d be as guilty of mistreating a fine woman as Hawkins.

Well, maybe not that bad. At least his intentions were honorable and, he hoped, welcome.

So far, Wyatt had been able to keep his mouth shut and his hands away from her. But every night it was harder. Every day it worked on his mind as he cleaned the barns and herded cattle. Ordered the men around and put the ranch to rights.

He’d been up most of the night last night combing through account books. Tonight he had to sleep. As he went to the pantry, he listened to that layabout Hawkins snore, that man who preyed on women in his employ, and wondered if he’d even be able to sleep.

A possible murderer overhead.

A beautiful woman next door.

A few thousand underweight cattle who needed help to survive the winter.

Worry circled in his head, but he’d been up all last night and the night before. Worry chased him into sleep.





Fifteen




They rode hard all night.

The sun broke over the eastern sky, and Cheyenne, near to falling asleep on her horse, knew they’d make it.

They hadn’t followed the main trail, which would have taken them to Casper.

Cheyenne wanted to stay well clear of it. Her riding into Casper wouldn’t matter much, nor Falcon, that could all be explained somehow.

But Rachel was unknown, and people would wonder about her. They’d ask the telegraph operator, who would know too much and share it all.

There was still a good stretch to ride, but sunlight helped keep her head from nodding. Cheyenne was in the middle. Once she’d found the right trail, she’d let Falcon lead. Looking back, she smiled at Rachel. A hardy woman, who seemed tireless. Rachel smiled back, her blue eyes flashing in the rising sun.

Looking on past her, Cheyenne enjoyed the sight of her beloved mountains rising up in the distance. They were on a narrow path that wound around a steep, uphill grade. Trees rose up on the right side, a solid wall of rock on the left.

Cheyenne turned to face forward to see Falcon dive off his horse toward the wooded side. Cheyenne didn’t even think. She just moved, taking her rifle with her. The gunfire split the air as she hit the ground rolling to a crouch.

Falcon was running for her. He saw her down and alive, then they both spun to warn Rachel, only to see her slam backward off her horse, who crow-hopped, spooked by the shot.

They reached her as she landed on her back in a puff of dust, a bright crimson star blooming on her chest.

Her horse startled the others, and they reared. Enough ahead that Cheyenne didn’t have to dodge hooves.

One hard look at Rachel made her turn to Falcon. He saw the same thing she did. Rachel was hit dead center in the heart. No one survived a shot like this.

The rifle took up firing and rained bullets down as fast as someone could cock it and pull the trigger. A branch inches over Cheyenne’s head was shredded by bullets.

“We’re out of his sight down low.” Falcon crouched and dragged Rachel around the curve of the trail. Farther out of range.

The shooting stopped. Falcon got all three of them up against the rock wall. He pressed his back to it, gun drawn. Cheyenne left him to guard and turned to Rachel. She was shocked to see Rachel open her eyes. Not dead yet, but she couldn’t last long.

“T-take this.” Rachel dragged a letter out of her coat pocket and shoved it into Cheyenne’s hand, then a piece of paper. “Th-the code. Contact Pinkertons. D-don’t put my name in the telegram. They’ll know I’m dead or in terrible trouble. Someone will come.”

Her eyes fell shut. Her grip on the letter and paper trembled, then her hand went slack, and she released both.