Love on the Range (Brothers in Arms #3)(46)

Kevin held up the handkerchief. A delicate, lacy thing with an embroidered corner. A single letter H.

“Who’s Hannah?” Kevin glanced nervously at the house. “I’ve got to get back in there.”

“Maybe one of those other housekeepers Rachel said was missing. She said a killer of the type Hawkins might be would keep some token or memento from a victim. That kerchief would qualify.” Wyatt tore the second packet open. This one made of brown paper like that used to wrap parcels at the general store. A jeweled pin fell out, like the kind that could be fastened to a woman’s dress bodice. There was another note. This one read, “‘Dear Lydia, with your vibrant red hair, you called out to me from the first moment.’” Wyatt jerked his head up. “There’s more here but the end is the same. ‘Now I must go on alone.’”

Kevin had the third and final envelope open. This one flat and lightweight. There was nothing in it but a sheet of unlined paper. He read, “‘Dear Amelia . . .’ That’s all it says. It must be a note he began to Amelia Bishop before she vanished.”

Kevin’s eyes met Wyatt’s for a single grim second.

“I’m going to pack my things,” Wyatt said. “This isn’t much, but I’m through here and so is Molly. I’ll saddle the horses Molly and I brought over, then I’ll come to the house and tell Hawkins I quit. We’re taking Molly with us whether she agrees or not.”

They’d already next thing to kidnapped her from the parson’s house. They were getting good at it.

“I think she’ll agree. She wants out.” Kevin handed his letter to Wyatt. “You hold on to all of these. I’m going in.”

Wyatt wished they had better evidence than odd poems, only one of them with the name of a woman they knew had worked for Hawkins. “I’d like to have more proof to take to the sheriff but . . .”

“We’ll show these to Rachel.” Kevin clapped him on the shoulder.

“That’s right, she knows the names of the two missing women. These poems, along with what evidence Rachel has, might be enough to bring Hawkins in for questioning, then the sheriff can go through that safe. Having left any other letters in there might be better proof than if we have them and the sheriff has only Molly’s word where they came from.”

“I’ll be ready to leave with the women when you get up there.” Kevin turned for the house.

Wyatt watched him go at a run. Wyatt’s heart sped up as he thought of how close they were to stopping a murderer, and if they didn’t accomplish that, at least they’d be getting out of here.





Nineteen




Cheyenne didn’t want Rachel alone with Kingston, even if alone included the sheriff and the doctor. They might not be suspicious enough.

She was running by the time she reached the doctor’s office. Rachel lay unconscious, a good bandage covering her dress that the doctor had cut open. Her coat hung next to her. Blood soaked, too, but it would serve for modesty.

“As soon as she wakes up, we’re going home,” Cheyenne said. “Kingston has connections back near Bear Claw Pass and my brother and sister may be in danger.”

The doctor stopped working over Kingston and turned to listen to every word.

The sheriff came up out of his chair, his brow furrowed. “Tell me what you’ve found that’s upset you so much.”

Cheyenne took turns with Falcon telling them every detail.

She’d brought the picture along, too.

“I’m going to send a few wires,” Gatlin said. “Track down this school. If you’re right about him being a brother to Clovis, then that school oughta be able to tell me his real name. I can see if there are any wanted posters. I can also see if there’s any proof he ever studied the law. And maybe that’ll help me figure out how he paid for that big house. He had to’ve come in here with money because he sure as certain never made enough working here in Casper to pay for it.”

Cheyenne went to Rachel’s side. Her face was pale as milk. Her eyes remained closed. She breathed steadily. “You stitched her up, right, Doc?”

“Yep, she’s really not bad hurt except for that bump on the head.” The doctor abandoned Kingston. Cheyenne got a strong feeling the doctor, like the sheriff, had little use for the man. He bent over Rachel and tugged on one of her eyes to lift the lid. He stared for a few seconds, then shook his head. “She’s out stone cold. We just have to wait.”

Cheyenne saw Falcon rub the back of his head. He’d been clipped by a bullet there, and it’d knocked him out hard enough he woke up without any memory. Win had heard of such a thing and said it was called amnesia. Falcon knew a knock on the head could do plenty of damage.

“We can’t wait.” Cheyenne couldn’t stand to.

“Doc Reynolds,” Falcon said, “would it be dangerous for her to come along with us? We don’t have a wagon, but—” A train whistle cut him off.

“That’s it.” Cheyenne looked out the window in the door to the doctor’s office. “We can catch the train. Load our horses. We’ll be home in an hour. Can she make it, Doc? We have a decent doctor now living at the RHR.”

“I suppose.” Dr. Reynolds didn’t sound that happy about it.