The Bounty Hunter's Bride (11 page)

“When we were kids, Patrick had a way of avoiding the facts. He saw things as he wanted them to be, not as they were. He was the youngest. Our ma spoiled him.”

Dani bristled. “That was a long time ago.”

“Maybe, but I have to wonder…Why did Patrick write to
you?
Why not find a wife in Castle Rock?”

Dani had asked herself the same question. Sometimes it haunted her, especially since she had no one to ask. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t, either.” Regret salted his voice. “I
do
know one thing and it’s this. If you adopt my nieces, you’ll have a harder time finding a husband.”

“I’m not looking for a husband. Not anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I’m grieving Patrick.”

“I know how that it is,” Beau murmured. “I also know that the pain eases with time. One day you’ll wake up and be ready to breathe again.”

“Did that happen to you?”

“In a way.” He stared across the meadow. “I miss Lucy, but I know she’s gone. It’s the hate for Johnson that keeps me on the road. I promised myself I’d bring him to justice. I’m going to keep my word.”

Dani saw a link. “I made a promise, too.”

“To Patrick?”

“Yes.”

“He wouldn’t expect you to keep it.”

“But I want to.” Without the girls, she had nothing. For all Beau’s talk of husbands, Dani had no reason to believe things would be different for her in Castle Rock. Except for Patrick, she’d never been in love. She pushed to her feet and faced Beau. “I love the girls. I want to be their mother.”

“You also want a husband.”

Dani was tired of being pushed. “Not if he’s as bossy as you are.”

“Bossy?” Beau chuffed.

“Yes!” Dani glared at him. “You act like you know what I’m thinking, but you don’t. You have no idea what happened in Wisconsin. If you did—” Too late, she sealed her lips.

Beau’s eyes glinted. “So you
do
have a secret.”

“If you must know, I was engaged twice. Both times, I called off the wedding. Once at the last minute.” She blushed. “Virgil Griggs didn’t appreciate my change of heart.”

“Why’d you break it off?”

Dani’s cheeks turned red. “He smelled like onions.”

Beau burst out laughing.

“It wasn’t funny at the time,” she said. “I earned a reputation for being fickle. I’m not. It’s just that…” She shrugged.

“I can’t explain it.”

“You don’t have to. I understand.”

How could he? She didn’t understand it herself. She was about to ask what he meant when he focused his gaze on her face. “I have a bit of wisdom for you.”

“What’s that?”

His eyes twinkled. “Not all men smell like onions.”

Her father had smelled like leather. Her brother used bay rum when he shaved. Dani had no idea how Patrick would have struck her nose, but she knew the scent of Beau’s shaving soap. As they’d walked to the rocks, she’d smelled apples.

The thought rocked Dani to her marrow. For all his bluster, she liked Beau and his bossy ways. Her feelings made no sense. She was grieving Patrick. She had no business noticing the mischief in Beau’s eyes. He had a glint of male superiority, as if he knew something she didn’t.

Dani bristled. “Are you going to let me adopt the girls or not?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Why not?”

Silence.

Dani wanted to scream. “You
know
I can run the farm.”

“There’s no doubt about it.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

His eyes locked on to hers. “I like you, Dani. I want you to be happy.”

“Then give me the girls.”

His gaze hardened. “Under one condition.”

“What is it?”

“Look me in the eye.”

She did what he asked.

“Now tell me you don’t want a husband.”

If she rushed her words, he’d sense her desperation. But the longer she thought, the more her heart pounded with the truth. Of course she wanted a husband, someone to love and cherish. She wanted everything God intended for a husband and wife. She wanted her belly to swell with child. She wanted to laugh in the dark and snuggle at dawn. She’d also made a promise and believed God wanted her to keep it. Why else would he bring her to this moment? As painful as this week had been, she felt needed. She had a purpose. She didn’t understand God’s logic, but she felt His love.

She took a breath to steady herself, then faced Beau. “I can’t say that.”

He raised his chin. “That’s honest.”

“There’s more,” she said. “I’ve dreamed of children all my life. I expected to get married and have my own. Instead God sent me here.”

Beau’s jaw tensed. “Leave God out of it.”

“I can’t,” she said. “I don’t know why He took Patrick home, but I know what I promised. I want to adopt the girls.”

“Dani—”

“Say yes,” she pleaded. “You know it’s right.”

Barring a miracle, she’d never have a husband. As Beau had said, only an exceptional man would marry a woman with three children. Dani’s courtship days were over. For whatever reason, God had made her a widow without ever being a wife. She raised her chin. Someday she’d come face-to-face with the King of Kings. She’d sit at His feet and feel His love. At that glorious moment, she wouldn’t recall her earthly loneliness. The thought made her strong.

Beau stood up, putting them eye to eye. “It’s a big decision. You don’t have to decide now.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Why?”

“The girls need an answer.” So did Dani. “I
know
what I want.” She wanted to be a mother. She also wanted to weep for what she’d never have. A husband of her own, a child growing in her belly…She stared harder at Beau.

His expression softened. “If you’re sure—”

“I’m positive.” She took a breath. “When shall we tell the girls?”

“Now’s fine. I’ll go to town early in the morning to tell Scott to wire Harriet Lange. As of today, my offer to give her the girls is off the table. They’re yours, Dani.”

He pulled his hat low, hiding his eyes. Before she could thank him, he walked away.

B
eau wasn’t fond of cleaning fish, but today he welcomed the chore. Not even Ellie wanted to stick around. She’d gone inside with her sisters, leaving Beau to prepare the trout with T.C. meowing at the base of the worktable behind the barn. The racket didn’t bother Beau at all. After listening to female chatter all the way back from the stream, he’d felt a lot like T.C. Beau could see the life he wanted, but it glittered like gold at the bottom of a deep pond.

When he and Dani had told the girls about his decision, they’d hugged her hard. She’d made a point of saying Beau cared about them and had made the decision out of love. She’d been right and the girls had sensed it. Esther and Ellie had hugged him. Emma had called him Uncle Beau and apologized for flinging the apple. He’d felt their blood ties in his marrow. If he’d been Emma, he’d have thrown things, too. He’d told her so and she’d smiled. Today had been the best day of his life since Lucy’s murder, but it couldn’t be repeated. As long as Johnson drew breath, Beau had a call on his life.

He also had three girls and a woman waiting for supper. He lifted the fish from the bucket, slit it open and removed the bones. He didn’t care for the sight of fish guts, but a man did what he had to do. Beau set the fish pieces on a plate, then wiped the mess into a bucket he’d dump in the garden later.

As he lifted the second fish, T.C. meowed in outrage.

“You’ll get yours,” Beau said to the cat.

As he worked the knife, he wondered if he could say the same for himself. After five years, he was no closer to Clay Johnson than he’d been the day he left Denver. The man had a knack for goading Beau and then disappearing. Why wouldn’t Johnson stand and fight? Beau didn’t understand. If the outlaw wanted to hide, he could have traveled east and lost himself in a big city. Instead he’d started a game of tag by leaving Beau messages. Why? Beau saw only one answer. Clay Johnson had the mind of a snake. The sooner he met his end, the sooner Beau could settle down.

For the first time since Denver, he liked the idea. He’d grown fond of sleeping in a bed and even fonder of Dani’s cooking. When he finished cleaning the fish, he’d milk the cows. He’d clean up and go inside the cozy house. He’d sit at the head of the table, passing platters of food and listening to female prattle. As he filleted another fish, Beau muttered an oath. He had to track down Johnson and kill him. Why was he torturing himself with thoughts of Dani and the girls?

T.C. wove around his ankles, meowing with the desperation befitting an annoyed feline. Beau tossed him a bite of fish. “Now scat.”

The cat swallowed the tidbit, sat and stared at Beau. He wanted more. He wanted it all.

So did Beau. Looking at the kitten, he faced a sad truth. Dani and his nieces would live in his heart forever. He’d never forget them. Maybe he’d visit once a year, at Christmas when snow made the days bright. He’d bring toys for the girls and something nice for Dani. Maybe cloth for a dress or a fancy hat. Maybe a necklace made of gold. She liked pretty things. Who knew what the future held? Maybe someday, after Clay Johnson had been caught, Beau would call the farm home.

The thought made his belly roll. Once he finished with Johnson, he’d be a free man. He could marry Dani…He liked the idea quite a bit, but he couldn’t expect her to wait for him. In spite of adopting Patrick’s girls, Beau figured she’d be married within a year. Only a fool would let her get away.

Sighing, he picked up another fish.

“Nice-looking trout.”

Beau turned and saw Josh. “There’s plenty. Can you stay for supper?”

“No, thanks. Dani already asked.”

“You’re missing out.”

“This isn’t a social call.”

Josh rarely sounded grim. When he did, he had a reason. Beau lowered the knife. “What brings you out here?”

“The Rocking J had some trouble.”

“What kind?”

“Horse thieves made off with some prize stock.”

The local ranch had the finest quarter horses in Colorado. Clay Johnson had an eye for good horseflesh. Beau’s nerves prickled. “Any witnesses?”

“Baylor’s wife saw three men.”

Beau forgot the fish. “Last I heard, Johnson had two partners. What else did she see?”

“Not much. They were wearing masks.”

“What about their mounts?” Johnson had ridden the same horse, a buckskin mare with black stockings, for five years.

“One of them rides a pinto,” Josh answered. “Another had a nag.”

“Anyone on a buckskin?”

Josh shook his head.

The facts didn’t point to Johnson, but neither did they point away. The outlaw had been riding with two other men. Beau had been closing in on them when he’d stopped to visit Patrick. Every instinct told him Johnson had raided the Rocking J. He stabbed the knife into the table. “It’s Johnson. It has to be.”

With the blade twanging, he looked at Josh in his black coat. The man kept a Bible in the front pocket and a pistol at his side. Truth and justice. Heaven and Hell. Josh would have added mercy and forgiveness. Beau didn’t care. He wanted vengeance.

The Reverend kept his voice low. “Sheriff Dawes is riding out tomorrow with a couple of men. He wants you to join them.”

Beau wanted to leave so badly his calves twitched. His weapons were clean and loaded. If he saddled his roan, he’d be ready to ride. Instead he muttered a curse. “I can’t go.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve got ten cows to milk, alfalfa to plant and a silo to build for a know-it-all woman!”

Josh raised an eyebrow. “Dani seems capable to me.”

“She is.”

“So why not go?”

If he didn’t finish the planting, Dani would be left to wrestle with a mule and a plow. He couldn’t stand the thought. “It’s my job,” he said. “If the alfalfa doesn’t get planted, she won’t have winter feed.”

Josh arched a brow. “I thought you were selling the farm.”

“Not anymore. Dani’s staying.”

“Are you?” Josh asked.

“Not a chance.” Beau explained the adoption and why he’d made the choice. “I’ll ask Scott to file papers next trip to town.”

The Reverend didn’t say a word.

Josh never lied, but neither did his silence ring true. Beau looked him in the eye. “What’s wrong?”

“It doesn’t concern you.”

Beau hated secrets. “Does it concern Dani?”

“In a way.”

“Then I have a right to know.”

“No, you don’t.” Josh crossed his arms. “This is between me and God. If something needs to be said, I’ll say it. As things stand, you’re the girls’ legal guardian and using your best judgment. From what I can see, Dani’s promise to Patrick hasn’t affected your decision.”

“Not really,” Beau said. “The woman knows cows and loves the girls. That’s what made me change my mind.”

That, and the fact he liked her. Josh didn’t need that information.

The minister nodded. “That’s all I need to know.”

Beau wanted to know what had led to Josh’s concern, but he knew his friend wouldn’t break a confidence. He’d proven himself in Denver. Late at night, when Beau had spilled his guts, Josh had kept their talk private. Beau had a feeling he’d done the same for Patrick. If his brother had been having second thoughts about marriage, Beau didn’t much care. Dani loved the girls. That was enough. He’d filleted five trout for supper. That was enough, too. So was five years of chasing Clay Johnson, but Beau couldn’t rest until the man swung from a rope.

He snatched the last fish from the bucket and slit the belly. “Tell me about Dawes. Is he any good?”

“Average.”

“Can he take Johnson?”

“Not alone.”

Beau lowered the knife. “I’ve been after Clay Johnson for five years. He could be in shouting distance and I can’t finish the job. It’s not right.”

“Maybe it’s not your job to finish,” Josh said. “‘Vengeance is Mine—”

“—saith the Lord.’ I know.” Beau jerked the bones from the trout’s flesh and flung them into the bucket. He glared at Josh. “Where was God when Lucy bled to death?”

The Reverend’s gaze stayed steady. “The same place He was when His son died on the cross.”

Beau wiped the knife on a rag. The table stank of fish and death and blood. Clay Johnson was riding free and the Baylor family was left to struggle with loss and violation. For the second time, Beau stabbed the knife into the wood. “Don’t give me that talk.”

“What talk?”

“That God knows what I’m feeling. Johnson killed my
wife.
”

“I know, I was there.”

“I want him dead!”

“I know you do, Beau. It’s just that—”

“Just
what?
”

Josh held Beau’s gaze. “The bitterness is eating you alive. You know the cure. ‘Father forgive them—’”

“Don’t you
dare
say it.”

They know not what they do.
Clay Johnson had carried a loaded rifle to a rooftop. He’d known full well what he intended to do. At best, he’d been sniping for Beau. At worst, he’d shot an innocent woman in the back.

Beau lashed out at Josh. “Don’t you
dare
tell me to forgive that piece of human filth!”

“I wasn’t going to,” Josh said. “That’s between you and God.”

“That’s right.”

“I’d say the same thing to Clay. He’s going to Hell, my friend. Unless he squares things with the Almighty, he’s going to suffer more than you can imagine.”

“He has it coming.”

Josh raised his chin. “We all do.”

Beau felt the words like fire, mostly because Josh counted himself in the same camp as men like Clay Johnson. Fallen short. Weak-minded. A lost soul except for the blood of Christ. Beau knew Josh’s story. A long time ago, he’d been a holier-than-thou preacher. He blamed himself for his sister’s death and still carried the guilt.

Beau had no illusions of holiness. He sinned as much as any man and he knew it. He was sinning right now…“Love one another as I have loved you.” No way could he bring himself to “love” Clay Johnson. Not now. Not ever. Right now, he didn’t think much of Josh, either. He wanted the man to leave.

Beau picked up the plate of fish in one hand and the scrap bucket in the other. He looked pointedly at Josh. “Anything else?”

“Any advice for Dawes?”

“Shoot to kill.”

Beau strode past Josh. The pastor followed him around the barn and into the yard where he’d left his horse tied to a post. Josh loosed the reins and climbed into the saddle. “See you Sunday.”

“Not in church.”

Like last Sunday, Beau would leave Dani and the girls at the foot of the steps, then head into town.

Josh looked down from the saddle. “I didn’t expect so, but I’ll see you in the afternoon.”

“What for?”

“A church picnic.”

Beau wanted to spit. “Did Adie plan it?”

“Of course.”

Back in Denver, Adie had been every bachelor’s hero. She’d organized picnics, dances and Saturday suppers that forced even the shyest men to rub elbows with the ladies in town. Beau had rubbed a lot of elbows before he’d clapped eyes on Lucy. He’d enjoyed those spirited times. He wanted Dani to have fun, too.

Or did he? The thought of her sharing a meal with another man—even one with marriage on his mind—made Beau grit his teeth. He didn’t know which annoyed him more, not riding with Dawes or keeping his eye on Dani in a crowd of single men. All in pursuit…full of hope and dreams and things Beau couldn’t have.

Josh tipped his hat. “See you Sunday.”

The Reverend rode out of the yard, leaving Beau with a bellyache. As if to rub Beau’s nose in his helplessness, Josh pushed his gray into a gallop, racing past the charred pine and fields of lush grass. With each stride, the horse and rider grew smaller until the minister was a black dot on a dusty road. Stinking of fish and hate, Beau tensed with frustration. He should have been leaving with Josh, not holding a reeking bucket while ten cows told him what to do.

Beau couldn’t stand being in the dark. Had Johnson led the raid on the Rocking J as Beau suspected? Was he still in the area? Beau’s nerves twanged like the knife. With horses to sell, the outlaw would head for the mountains, where a maze of canyons twisted through the foothills below the Rockies. Johnson could hide for days, raiding ranches until he’d bled the area dry. He had two partners, both unidentified. Either one could slip into town, catch the gossip and stay a step ahead of the law.

And a step ahead of Beau…

If Johnson stayed true to form, he’d want Beau to know he was close. He’d leave a message at the Silver River Saloon. A taunt. A threat. Did the outlaw have a bead on Beau? On Dani and the girls? Beau blinked and saw pink. If Johnson had left him a message, he had to know. Dani needed him to plant the alfalfa, but she could do without him for tonight. With the stolen horses in his care and the law on his tail, Johnson would stay hidden in the canyons. She’d be safe.

Beau strode to the garden, left the bucket and headed for the back door to the house. Emma saw him coming and opened it. He handed her the plate of fish.