Shotgun Bride (13 page)

A tall, lanky man strode up to the table and sat down. “Mornin’, boss, you wanted to see me?”

“Baca’s out looking for his missing wife. I don’t want him to come back. Ever.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And tell Barney and Jose to come to my room at dusk.”

“On it, boss.”

Finished with breakfast, Hawkins took the warmed-up soup to his room. Kathleen reclined on the bed.

“Here’s your breakfast. I didn’t find a pretty dress so I’ll have my daughter loan you one.”

“Be sure to thank her for me.”

“I will. But I have some bad news.”

“What?”

“Barker has more than Mike out looking for you, so you need to stay here and be quiet.”

The color drained from her face. “What if they decide to search every room?”

Hawkins suppressed a smile. Kathleen was falling into his hands. “They won’t. I told them you left. Besides, Barker knows better than to bother me.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

He dug out a book and handed it to her. “Here, thought you might like something to occupy your time with. I assume you read.”

“Of course. And thank you, Tobias. That was thoughtful of you.”

“I want you to feel welcome here. And to trust me. I do know the people of this community.”

“Will they ever accept me?”

“Certainly.”

“I don’t know. The ones I’ve run into so far didn’t want me around.”

“As soon as the truth comes out, all will be well.”

“If you say so.” Kathleen gave him a watery smile.

“That’s the spirit. Now eat up while it’s warm.”

Hawkins stared out the window while Kathleen ate the laudanum-laced soup. In a few days he’d marry her, inform the town of his unexpected nuptials, and explain her reluctance to receive visitors until the bruises Mike had left on her faded and she could get out of bed.

At the clatter of a spoon falling to the floor he turned. “Are you all right, Miss Barnes?”

Clumsy and sleepy. That’s all.”

He bent to retrieve the silverware and took the empty bowl from her. “You rest now.”

When her eyes drifted shut, Hawkins bound Kathleen’s feet to the bed, rolled her to her side, and coiled a tight knot around her wrists and gagged her. Satisfied she could not escape or make enough noise to draw attention, he locked the door on his way out.

Over at the saloon, Hawkins ordered a whiskey. Barney and Jose came wandering in and flopped into the chairs.

“What you need, boss?” Jose asked.

Hawkins slid the key across the table. “At dark, go to my room and bring the girl out to the abandoned mining cabin.”

He passed the vial to Jose. “Give her this to keep her quiet. It won’t take long, but don’t let her scream while you pour it down her throat.”

Jose smiled. “She won’t.”

“Good.”

“Can we play with her?”

“No. She’s going to be my bride and I want a few sons. Sons that look like me, not you.”

Barney threw his head back and laughed. “Congratulations, boss. Have fun on your honeymoon.”

“Don’t fail me.”

“We won’t.”

Mike jogged to the stables, his thoughts a whirling mass of chaos. He didn’t know what direction to start his search for Kathleen because there were no tracks he could find. Dust rose from his feet as he skidded to a halt. Frozen to the spot he glanced around. That old familiar instinct that had saved him during the war punched him in the gut. Someone was watching him.

He ducked inside the livery and faded into a dark corner. As the minutes ticked by, he cursed himself for a fool. This was all just a little too easy. How did Hawkins know he’d had Kathleen in the room with him? Why did he have those posters instead of Barker?

He had been proven wrong about her once already. And she’d ended up hurt. Now she was gone again. And who stalked him? All questions he didn’t have answers for. Time he quit letting the scent of a woman lead him around. Time to dig up some answers. Time for the patience he’d learned in the war as a sniper to kick in. Enemies didn’t have much patience. He did.

After a while, when no one followed him inside, Mike saddled Blackie. With a casual gait that belied the hot tingle between his shoulder blades, he led the horse outside, mounted up and headed north. The prickle between his shoulder blades didn’t cease until he cut behind some close-packed aspens.

He flicked the thong of his holster loose, shoved his emotions aside, and searched his back trail. The overwhelming urge to run back and kick down doors until he found Kathleen battled against the strategy of leading his foe into a trap.

With a hard shake of his head, Mike shuddered. He was
married
to a criminal. Or was he?

Worry chewed a hole in his stomach. A host of disturbing questions about Hawkins swelled in his thoughts. Hawkins had left no doubt that he still wanted Mike to marry Sally. So whoever chased him couldn’t be working for Hawkins.

However, Kathleen was a threat to Hawkins. Maybe Hawkins was behind all the nasty rumors flying around about Kathleen. That would explain why he’d had those wanted posters instead of Barker. Food for the gossips. And Hawkins had the money to buy excellent forgeries.

Mike rode behind a cluster of rocks and reined in. He dismounted and left Blackie free. The horse never strayed far. He liked the little treats Mike always carried. Rifle in hand, Mike circled around and hunkered down beside some scrub oak. He wanted this over with so he could get more answers.

He didn’t have long to wait. A tall stranger, riding a mustang, came into view. The man stopped and scanned the area. Mike held still. The man studied the rocks Mike left Blackie behind then dismounted. Slow and careful, he wove from tree-to-tree until he was a few feet away.

Mike stood. “Looking for me?”

The man spun and fired. Mike dove for cover, aimed low, and returned fire. A dead man couldn’t tell him who he worked for. The man crumpled to the ground but emptied his gun in Mike’s direction. He cursed, threw the gun down, and crawled toward his horse.

Mike lunged to his feet, rushed to the man, and pressed the barrel of his rifle to the stranger’s temple. “Who sent you?”

“You’ll never find out.”

“Your boss worth dying for?”

“I’m dead anyway.”

“You have a busted leg, but you could still ride. Give me a name and I’ll let you go.”

The man snorted. “I’d be a fool to believe you.” “Not everybody’s like you. I don’t want to kill you.”

The man jerked and stabbed out with a knife.

Mike jumped back as blood flowed from a wicked cut just above his boot. He kicked the knife out of the man’s hand. “Get up. I’m taking you in.”

“I won’t rot in some jail.”

“You don’t have a choice. Now move.”

The man yanked a pistol from his boot and fired. Mike sent two well-placed shots at the man’s chest and grimaced as the man twitched once then lay still. Blood soaked the stranger’s shirt. Mike reloaded and turned away. Gun smoke wafted in the air and cramped his throat. He tore off a sleeve of the dead man’s shirt and tied it around his leg. Limping to the rider-less horse, he tugged the animal to the dead man. After a few heaves, he had the man hefted over the saddle and whistled for Blackie. The faithful horse trotted up and paused as Mike mounted. Leg stinging like the devil, he gathered up the spare horse’s reins and headed into town.

Half a mile outside of town, Mike hustled off the trail, not wanting to have a confrontation as Hawkins came riding out toward him. Alone. The crimped nerves in Mike’s chest eased. One person accounted for. He glanced at the dead man. Dark hair. Hawkins had said Kathleen had left with a dark-haired man.

He nudged Blackie forward and, staying in the cover of the trees, rode home. Barker wouldn’t be any help and now that he had a badge on his vest he could investigate this in his own way. At the ranch, Mike found Hank busy cleaning the barn.

“Hey, boss, how’s your wife?”

“Missing. Where’s Juan?”

“Checkin’ on the cows. What do you mean missing?”

“Come outside and tell me if you know this man.”

Hank leaned the shovel on the wall and stalked up to the dead man. “I don’t know him.”

“Somebody sent him after me.”

Hank’s eyes grew wide. “Why?”

“That’s what I need to find out. Go get Juan we have work to do.”

“Sure, boss.”

“And hurry.”

Hank leapt on Blackie and tore off. Mike dumped the body in the barn and went in the house. He poured some water in a bowl and cleaned his cut. He had just finished tying a fresh cloth around the gash when Juan and Hank burst inside.

“Hank showed me the body. I don’t recognize him either.”

“Let’s move on. I’ve got two problems. First, Kathleen has disappeared. Second, somebody wants me dead. If I stay out of sight I can buy some time and maybe flush the culprit out.”

“What you want us to do?”

“Go to town, search the hotel, anywhere Kathleen could be hiding.”

“Why would she hide from you?”

Mike patted his shirt. “Barker swore me in this morning. Hawkins showed me some Wanted posters describing Kathleen. She must have overheard our conversation and fled.”

“What did she do?”

“You name it. Robbery, suspicion of murder for two husbands, a long list.”

“How old is she?” Juan’s surprised tone sent a spike of doubt through Mike’s mind.

Eighteen or so, maybe younger.”

Juan glared at him. “How in the hell did someone so young commit all those crimes? And never get caught? Or manage to be married twice already?”

Mike swallowed. Juan had a good point. “I saw the posters with her face on them.”

“Ain’t you ever seen a forgery?”

Dread settled in his gut. “Who would go to that trouble?”

“Who stands to win if Kathleen is hanged?”

“Hawkins.” Juan flopped in a chair. “Or you.”

“I would . . .”

Juan slapped a hand on the table. “I ain’t accusing you. Just telling it like folks will see it.”

Mike scrubbed a hand over his unshaven jaw.

“Juan’s right, boss.” Hank tipped his chair back.

“That leaves Hawkins. Think about it. He’s already hinted, rather strongly, that I don’t back out on marrying Sally.”

“He just wants your ranch,” Hank said. “I know. But that gives him a reason to smear Kathleen’s name. Or get her thrown in jail. Or run out of town.” Mike rubbed his neck.

“Yeah, but you still have to get rid of her before you can marry Sally.”

Hank’s piercing blue eyes bored a hole in Mike’s skull. When Hank decided something was wrong, a herd of oxen couldn’t turn him around. By the accusatory tone of his voice, Hank must not approve of him wanting to annul this farce of a marriage. Farce? The shared kissed last night still stirred his pulse to a stampede. “I’m not running off to Santa Fe. I have to find her first.”

Hank smiled. “Good.”

Mike held up a hand. “But, I told Hawkins I wanted rid of Kathleen. Forgeries cost money. Why waste resources on a moot point?”

Juan shrugged. “Maybe he already had them done. Takes time to get a good one.”

“How would he know about Kathleen?”

“Don’t know, boss.”

Hank leaned his elbows on the table. “You said someone tried to kill you on the drive. Hawkins don’t want you dead. Has to be somebody else.”

“Then who?” Mike clenched his fists. Kathleen stood to gain if he were killed. That made no sense. She kept running away from him. And that woman Barker found admitted Kathleen was the wrong girl. He slammed a fist on the table. “None of this makes sense.”

“Come on, Hank, let’s go help the boss find his wife. Maybe she can cook better than you. And give us some answers.” Juan’s banter didn’t fool Mike. The man would give his all to help.

From the shelter of the pinions, Mike skirted to the backside of the hotel and tied Blackie to a hitching post. Hank and Juan should already be around front. Soon as no one was in sight he ran to the backdoor of the hotel and slipped inside. Juan waited at the top of the stairs.

He dangled a key under Mike’s nose. “How’d you get that?”

“Now, boss, you promised to never ask about my past long as I stayed straight while working for you.”

A small chuckled slipped out Mike’s mouth. “I did. Where’s Hank?”

“Keeping watch.”

Mike snatched the key. “Start knocking on doors. If no one answers, we go in.” He started on the left while Juan went to the right. A few doors cracked open at his knock but five were empty. A low whistle caught his attention and he glanced up.

Juan waved him over. “Found her, boss.”

Mike’s heart dropped at Juan’s terse tone. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s trussed up and gagged. Don’t seem to hear us.”

Mike rushed inside. This was Hawkins’ room. Mike perched on the edge of the bed, one hand on her forehead. “She’s not hot, so no fever. I don’t understand why she’s out cold.” With a gentle shake, he tried to wake her. No response. “Kathleen.” Still nothing. “Go make sure the doc’s in. I’ll bring her to him.”

Mike gathered Kathleen’s limp body in his arms and tried to breathe past the clump of nettles in his throat. He hurried down the dusty trail on the backside of the buildings, not caring if he was seen. Kathleen’s shallow breathing scared the hell out of him. But one thought kept piercing his mind. He had judged her wrong again.

Juan waited for him with the door opened wide. “Doc’s in.”

Mike carried Kathleen inside and eased her onto the cot.

“What’s the problem?”

“She won’t wake up.” Mike moved aside for the doctor and clenched and unclenched his fists. Hawkins had better be ready for the whopping of his life.

“You give her anything?”

“No, why?”

“My best guess is she’s drugged. She have any laudanum with her?”

“No.”

“Pulse is strong and no fever. I’ll keep her under observation.”

“That’s it?”

Dr. Page glared at him. “Unless you can tell me what she took, yes.”

“Sorry, Doc, I’m just worried.”

“Let me see your leg.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sit down, Baca.”

Mike sighed. “You boys go on. I’ll stay here.”

Hank winked. “Don’t give the doc too much trouble.”

Juan and Hank clanked out. Mike trusted them to dig out any information they could. He sucked in a sharp breath when Dr. Page poked him with a needle.

What was Kathleen doing in Hawkins’ room? Hawkins had already left town, so who’d tied her up? Was someone out to frame Hawkins, too?