Love on the Range (Brothers in Arms #3)(39)

“Really?” Cheyenne stopped tying.

The man made a sudden wild leap forward.

Cheyenne brought the derringer down hard on the back of his head, and he went still. This time he was really out. She tied him up tight anyway.

“Remember when I came out west, I stopped in Casper to talk to the lawyer who sent me the information about Pa’s will?”

Cheyenne shrugged as she finished binding. “I can’t remember you saying that, but we got a wire from him, telling us you’d be on that morning’s train.”

“This is that lawyer. His name is Randall Kingston. He sent that wire.”

Cheyenne, already kneeling beside their prisoner, dropped to fully sit on the ground. “But he knows all the details of Pa’s will. Our lawyer in Bear Claw Pass said he was handling contacting you. And Rachel had nothing to do with Clovis’s will. She was out here searching for Amelia Bishop. Why did he shoot Rachel?”

Falcon finished with the feet. “Randall Kingston’s name was on the wire I received back in Tennessee informing me of the inheritance. And I didn’t know where you lived. Didn’t know Bear Claw Pass from a hole in the ground, much less how to get to the RHR. But I had Kingston’s name, so I got off the train in Casper and hunted him up to ask where to head next.”

It had about killed him to ask for directions, but he’d done it. Not being able to read. Not knowing a soul out here. With no idea hardly what a ranch even was, he’d wanted some answers before he just showed up at Bear Claw Pass.

“The train had left before I finished with the questions, so I was stranded for a bit. This man was mighty friendly. He helped me find the schedule for the next train.”

“So he knew exactly when you’d get to town.”

“Yep, but he never acted like he had any interest in me beyond doing his job as a lawyer.”

“If he shot Rachel, he must have some connection to Hawkins.” Cheyenne reached down and flipped the unconscious man onto his back. Studied him.

“They’re connected somehow. And connected to Pa, too.”

Cheyenne hunkered down beside Kingston and tugged gently on one of his eyelids. And stared into brown eyes shot through with gold. “His eyes are the same color as Clovis’s.” Cheyenne looked up. “The same color as yours.”

“Brothers?” Falcon looked at his wife.

Cheyenne shrugged. “Some kind of kin, I reckon.”

They both crouched there across from Kingston for a long time, not talking, Falcon sorting it out in his head, and he could tell Cheyenne was doing the same.

“We can’t figure it out here and now. We’ve got to get Rachel to the doctor,” he finally said. “Let’s bind up his wounds so he doesn’t bleed out before we get him to the sheriff. I’m going to toss him over his saddle, but I think we need to build a travois for Rachel. Is there a sheriff in White Rock?”

“I don’t think so, but we’re not that far from Casper. Some of our questions might get answered there.”

“It’s his town, will the sheriff take his word over ours?”

Cheyenne rose. “My family is a respected one in the territory. They’ll take what I say seriously.”

Falcon nodded at a horse standing back in the woods a distance. “You watch over him. I’ll use his horse to round up ours and get Rachel. And while we’re in Casper, we can mail that letter and send our wire to the Pinkertons. No more worrying about a talkative telegraph operator. I’ve got a feeling the one person in Casper we wouldn’t want to hear about the wire is this man.”

“Rachel said someone would come. I s’pect when they get here, they’ll be looking for Kingston as well as Hawkins, and they’ll want some answers.”





Sixteen




The raised piece of floorboard wouldn’t fit.

The footsteps came fast.

She pushed, lifted, then pressed down and sideways. It clicked into place.

Mr. Hawkins was almost to the door.

Molly looked at the unmade bed. An excuse to be in here. She had no pockets. She slid the envelopes and knife deep under Mr. Hawkins’s dresser, leapt to her feet, dashed to the bed, and pulled up one side of the covers.

The door slammed open hard enough it hit the wall behind it. Mr. Hawkins stood, breathing hard, something . . . frightening . . . glinting in his eyes.

“Mr. Hawkins, you’re back.” She sounded false and cleared her throat, fought to conceal her pounding heart. “Did you find out what Wyatt needed?”

He studied her. Could he know? What exactly had Wyatt said?

It flickered through her mind as she smoothed the covers that all the times he’d come looking for her, especially when she was in the bedroom, she had assumed improper motives. But maybe Molly saw personal motives when that wasn’t it at all. Maybe he was watching her because of what was in the safe. Maybe the moment she was out of here, he’d open that safe, find things missing, and come for her.

“Wyatt Hunt is not long for this ranch if he wastes my time like that again.”

Molly plumped the pillow and rounded the bed so she was on the opposite side from her boss. “He didn’t need anything important?” Her heart rate, already too high, sped up. Fear swept over her to see Mr. Hawkins in whatever mood this was.