The Bounty Hunter's Redemption (13 page)

“Once you set a date for the wedding, let me know,” Carly said. “I can finish your dress in one evening.”

“I’m sure it won’t be much longer. He’s supposed to be back soon. Maybe even next week.” Pink tinged her cheeks. “In his last letter, Rory said he couldn’t wait to make me his wife. As soon as I know the date, I’ll stop by. Even before I tell Pastor Koontz.” She blinked several times, as if trying to dislodge something in her eyes. “Rory didn’t want a church wedding. He doesn’t like a lot of people around, but I told him Grandpa would never give his permission unless we were married in church.”

Carly had always dreamed of a church wedding, yet Max had refused, insisting the county courthouse would be less intimidating. As if the man had ever feared anyone...well, except perhaps God.

“Pastor Koontz will perform a lovely ceremony,” Carly said, yet could barely imagine what it would be like to marry a man who pledged his love in front of God and everybody.

Her gaze strayed to Nate. His face was as unreadable as blurred ink.

“Rory says churches are full of hypocrites,” Debby went on. “But once he gets to know people, he’ll change his mind.”

Carly looked over Debby’s shoulder into the girl’s brown eyes staring back at her in the mirror. In those eyes, Carly saw trepidation and...hope. Hope that the decision to marry Rory wasn’t wrong. Hope that the ceremony would somehow change things. Hope that a ring on her finger would turn her intended into the husband of a woman’s dreams.

The same hope Carly had once held on to so tightly she hadn’t seen the truth. “If you’re not sure, it’s okay to wait,” she murmured into Debby’s ear.

“It’s just... Rory has been away so much.” Debby nodded, then nodded again, faster this time, as if trying to convince herself all her qualms stemmed from his absence. “Once we’re married, he promises it’ll be different. He’ll be different.”

Oh, dear girl, all men say that
, Carly thought but did not say.

“Nothing unusual for a groom to get cold feet before the wedding,” Nate said, as casual as you please.

Why was he inserting himself into her business, into her interaction with her customer? As if he was saying, “Hey, Carly, let me show you how to ease a bride’s fears.”

What did Nate know about day-after regrets and bad marriages? What did he know about the inner, intricate workings of a woman’s heart?

“Rory will be back soon and then we’ll set a date and...” Debby let out a shaky breath. “Then everything will be okay.”

Carly wanted to tell Debby marriage could be awful from the beginning. That before her wedding day was over she could realize she’d made a huge mistake. A mistake she might have to live with for the rest of her life.

But how could Carly say all that when Debby had hope shining in her eyes? Instead she said, “Marriage is a big step.”

The smile broad on her face, Debby swirled to Carly. “Thank you for making this beautiful dress. I’ll feel like a princess on my wedding day, like I always dreamed, and then everything will be fine. I’m sure of it,” she said, slipping behind the screen.

As Carly followed to help Debby from the dress, she hoped Debby’s groom
was
Prince Charming. And this sweet young woman would know only happiness for as long as she lived.

Happiness.
What would it be like to fall in love with a good man? What would it be like to have a groom standing beside you, beaming with joy in his eyes, love in his heart? What would it be like to have a real wedding with all the lovely traditions of that sacred ceremony?

Carly shook off the ridiculous fantasy. She was past those romantic girlish notions. Yet no matter what Carly told herself, she couldn’t stop the flicker of envy rising inside her, uninvited.

As she walked from behind the screen, her gaze locked with Nate’s. In those depths she saw something bleak, remote.

“Some folks put stock in fairy-tale endings,” he said. “I’m not a man that does.”

Inside Carly hope for a second chance withered. She’d been foolish to think otherwise. Nate made it perfectly clear he would not be a good groom.

Yet, in the deepest part of her, Carly still believed in fairy-tale endings. The picture of her in front of a preacher rose in her mind. The groom standing beside her was smiling, handsome, his eyes filled with love. The perfect mate.

Except in her traitorous mind, the groom looked too much like Nate.

Carly’s gaze darted to his, her face scorching, hoping he couldn’t read her thoughts.

As if he had and couldn’t abide what he saw, Nate tipped his hat and strode out, the bell overhead dancing to the erratic rhythm of her heart.

What had gotten into her? Nate Sergeant was another Max, another Rory, not a man to depend on.

Chapter Ten

N
ate watched Debby Pence walk to a nondescript wagon, unhitch the team from the post, gather her skirts and climb onto the seat. She paused a moment, then released the brake and deftly backed the draft horses into the street, obviously comfortable driving a team and wagon.

Probably lives on a farm outside of town
. Was the rural location the perfect hideaway for a criminal? Or was she as homespun as the dress she wore?

Nate cuffed the back of his neck. He’d learned to suspect every motive. But in this case, was he overreacting? How could this genteel young woman fall for a scoundrel like Stogsdill? How would she have met him?

Yet he couldn’t tamp down the feeling her groom was the man he hunted. She was probably an innocent who believed Stogsdill’s lies and had no idea the man courting her was a murderer.

Nate watched Debby turn off Main and head west until he could no longer detect the sound of clopping hooves.

Across the way, two men stood in the alley between the shop and the mercantile. One leaned on the corner of the building, a tattered hat askew on his shaggy head. The other was even more scruffy, his eyes squinting as if he’d had too late a night and too much to drink.

Nate crossed to them. “Name’s Nate Sergeant,” he said, sticking out a hand.

The skinny guy’s gaze narrowed. “Ah, you’re that there bounty hunter. I’m Lester Harders and I ain’t wanted for nothing but being late to supper.” He shook Nate’s hand. “This here’s my twin Lloyd. Iffen you need a face for a poster, he’s the guilty one.”

Lloyd snorted. “Ain’t guilty of nothing more than shooting up a few signs after Lester talked me into tossing back one too many.”

Lester waggled his brows. “If I had a sweet little wife, I wouldn’t be spending my nights at the saloon with you.”

“You gentlemen know the lady that just left?” Nate asked.

“Noticed your eyeballs were glued on her.” Lester nudged his brother. “Told you he was interested.”

Lloyd snickered.

“Better watch your step,” Lester said. “She’s betrothed. Her intended don’t take to men ogling the promised goods, iffen you know what I mean.”

That sounded like Stogsdill. The outlaw had a reputation for a jealous streak and a hair-trigger temper.

Lester craned his neck to look at the road Debby had taken. “That purty little thing would make any man a fine wife. Her grandpa’s got eighty acres out on Hartzell Road and some nice horseflesh to go with it, and no one else to inherit. Reckon I’d be a welcome addition to the family if someone hadn’t beat me to it.”

Lloyd guffawed. “Like you’d get within ten feet of her.”

Nate bit back a smile. “Sounds like a tough character.”

“Rory? Only saw him once, but he made an impression.” Lester rubbed his jaw. “He didn’t like me working for Debby’s grandpa and near knocked me out.”

“I would steer clear of him, if I knew what he looked like.” Nate glanced down the street, casual and calm, as if the answer didn’t matter. “Can you describe him?”

“I dunno,” Lester said. “Same height as me. Broad in the shoulders. Sits a horse like he was born in the saddle.” He snorted. “You’d have thought he’d be grateful. I was just doing old man Pence a favor, helping out.”

“Any idea where Debby met this Rory?”

“Where was she, Lloyd? That fancy place with the purty name.”

“Santa Fe?” Lloyd said.

“No, that ain’t it. Gotta saint in it like the town thinks it’s better than most.”

“St. Louis?” Nate supplied, as if helping the twin’s memory, not trying to tie Debby Pence to the town where Stogsdill’s sister lived.

“Yep, that’s it.”

Nate knew the house, had kept watch for weeks, but had never seen the outlaw. From what he’d gathered, Stogsdill and his sister weren’t close.

“Debby come home with Rory on her heels. And, oh, the hullabaloo when he saw me pass the time of day with her.”

Lloyd grinned. “Yep, you have a way with the ladies. Charm ’em right off.”

Lester gave his brother a light jab. “Anyway, if you’re a smart man, you won’t even look at Debby sideways, leastways when Rory’s around.”

“Thanks for the warning. Does he come often?”

The Harders brothers shrugged, then shuffled off.

Nate raised a silent victorious fist in the air. This piece of evidence, along with that ruby ring, confirmed the hunch that Debby Pence’s fiancé was Shifty Stogsdill.

Perhaps if he’d showed the twins Stogsdill’s wanted poster, they’d have identified him. But the fewer people who knew about Stogsdill the better. Especially those two.

He would ride out to Hartzell Road and take a look at the Pence farm. Pick a good spot for surveillance. He’d look less conspicuous if he had an excuse, a reason to head out of town.

His gaze traveled to the dressmaker’s shop. Carly sat inside, her head bent over the garment in her lap.

All Nate needed to conceal his investigation was one reason. One very pretty reason.

He heaved a sigh. Why not be honest? No matter how much he shouldn’t, he wanted to spend time with Carly. Wanted to know everything about her. Wanted to bask in her goodness and, for a few moments, forget his quest.

That is if he could convince Carly that she and Henry needed a picnic in the country.

* * *

At Nate’s side, Henry wiggled with excitement, asking questions about every creature they passed.

A straw hat perched squarely on her head, shading her face, Carly chucked her son under the chin. “Careful, or you’ll wear out Nate’s ears.”

“I enjoy seeing the world through your youngster’s eyes.”

Carly shot Nate a stunning smile. The beauty of that smile—of her—rippled through him, soothing every weary, lonely part of him.

“Thank you for inviting us. I can’t remember the last time Henry and I’ve gone on a picnic or, for that matter, taken a ride into the country.”

Her thanks slashed at Nate’s conscience. He’d used this picnic as an excuse to locate the Pence farm and possible spots to hole up. If Stogsdill was indeed Debby Pence’s groom, she’d come in for that gown. A sign Stogsdill was heading this way.

And Nate would be ready and waiting.

Carly hadn’t agreed to accompany him on the outing immediately. But, Anna had squelched each of Carly’s objections, vowing they’d finish the Schwartz trousseau in time, and she was perfectly capable of managing the shop single-handedly.

Nate’s grip tightened on the reins. If his only purpose had been staking out the Pence farm, he could’ve invited Anna. Truth be told, he cared about Carly and her son.

When he’d issued the invite, he’d noticed the camaraderie between Anna and Carly. Carly showed Anna a gentle side of herself. Even as she held Nate at arm’s length or tried to, he couldn’t deny his attraction. He admired her spunk, her fierce love for her son and her kindness to his sister.

With Henry gazing up at him as though he was some kind of hero and Carly mere inches away, the weight of his failure to bring in Stogsdill slipped from Nate’s shoulders. The prospect of spending a few hours in their company had his spirits soaring like the red-tailed hawk riding the air currents overhead.

Henry edged sideways, his gaze dropping to the grip of Nate’s gun sticking from his holster. “Are you a good shooter?”

Carly tugged her son closer, as if she feared Nate’s pistol would leap into her son’s hands.

“I’ve explained to Henry guns are weapons, not toys, and must be considered loaded and dangerous.”

“Mama, Nate says I can’t touch his gun. When I’m big, big as a man,” Henry said, stretching his spindly arms toward the sky, “I can learn to shoot.” He sidled closer to Nate. “Will you teach me?”

“Sorry, buddy. I won’t be living in Gnaw Bone then.”

A soft sigh slid from the boy’s lips, tearing at the wall Nate had built around his heart. “But I can teach you to drive this buggy. Would you like to hold the reins?”

Henry’s grin stretched ear to ear. “Yes, sir!”

“See how I’m holding the strips of leather in my palm and through my fingers? I’ll help you do the same.” Nate threaded the reins through the boy’s small hands. “Like that. The mare will likely stick to the road but you still need to stay alert for anything that might spook her.”

“What would spook a big horse?”

“Anything unexpected. Like a rabbit running across her path, a snake on the road, something blowing in the wind.” Nate kept alert, poised to take control, if needed. “The first time I drove my pa’s team, I felt a mile tall.”

“Driving’s fun, but riding a horse is funner. All the boys in my grade know how to ride ’cept me. Some of the girls, too,” Henry added in a whiny tone.

“Horses are expensive to keep when we don’t need one,” Carly said. “We can walk anywhere we want to go.”

“Not clear out here, Mama.”

“True, but we can rent a buggy at the livery like Nate did.”

“Henry, see those buzzards hovering up ahead. Be prepared. Some horses are skittish near carcasses.”

“Oo-hh. Something’s dead?”

“Or dying. Buzzards could be circling for a meal.”

“Ick.” Henry sat straighter, his eyes darting from one side of the road to the other. “Mama, is our town named after buzzards gnawing on bones?”

Nate and Carly exchanged a smile over Henry’s head.

“No one remembers how the town got its name, sweetie. Most likely with a name like Gnaw Bone, folks were happy to forget.”