The Bounty Hunter's Bride (21 page)

Beau regretted that offer more than he could say. He also wished Emma, Ellie and Esther had never heard it. The three of them had clustered on the divan and were hanging on to every word. They needed to know he’d keep them safe, so he looked at them one by one, then said, “That offer was a mistake. It’s off the table.” He turned back to Miss Lange. “I’m keeping custody.”

“Forgive me, Mr. Morgan, if I’m not convinced of your sincerity. Your engagement to Miss Baxter seems rather fortuitous.”

The woman smiled like a grandma but hissed like a snake. Beau crossed his arms. “Our plans are none of your business.”

Her expression turned smug. “I’ll ask you the same question I asked Miss Baxter. When are you getting married?”

“Soon.” Beau didn’t know what Dani had said. If he contradicted her, Miss Lange would use the confusion against them.

“In church?”

Beau answered by crossing his arms. “It’s none of your concern.”

“I’ll be blunt, Mr. Morgan. I don’t believe for a minute that you intend to provide a home for my nieces. My detective tells me you’ve been a bounty hunter for five years, and that you make a good living. I suspect Miss Baxter has charmed you into giving her what she wants.”

The irony left Beau speechless. Instead of making Dani’s dreams come true, he’d denied her what she desired most—a family, a husband, a home.

Miss Lange’s expression turned smug. “When it’s settled, you’ll go back to bounty hunting. Is that correct?”

How could the truth be so right and wrong at the same time? Beau couldn’t deny the facts, but he had the power to change them. He could stay in Castle Rock. He could marry Dani. The thought burned like fire, but so did his hate for Clay Johnson. He had to send Lucy’s killer to eternity and he had to do it now. Not in a month or a year, but by Sunday so he could take Dani to church. To protect the girls, he had to marry her. To protect Dani, the marriage had to be real. That meant bringing Clay to justice and coming home for good.

Beau’s next words were for Harriet Lange, but his eyes stayed on Dani. “If Miss Baxter will have me, we’ll get married this Sunday.”

“In church?” Dani asked.

Beau nodded.

Questions burned in her eyes. He had to explain his plan, which meant getting rid of Harriet Lange. He turned to the gray-haired witch. “Are you satisfied?”

“I suppose.”

“Miss Lange?” Dani had spoken.

“Yes?”

“I love your nieces. I’ll take good care of them.”

To Beau’s surprise, the old lady looked at the girls with misty eyes. If they hadn’t exchanged words, he’d have thought she was kind. She even smiled at Dani. “Just remember what I said. ‘Spare the rod and spoil the child.’”

Not in Beau’s book. Judging by Dani’s expression, something ugly had happened. Emma’s mouth tightened and Ellie’s eyes burned with venom. Esther whimpered, then jerked her thumb out of her mouth. The sooner this woman left the house, the better off they’d be.

“That settles it,” he said.

Miss Lange smiled as if nothing had happened. “Of course I’ll be attending the wedding.”

Beau wanted to tell her to stay away, but he couldn’t stop her from attending church.

Dani squared her shoulders. “Of course.”

Miss Lange looked at the girls with something close to tenderness. “I know I seem harsh, but I want what’s best for you.” She eyed Esther, who was still cowering, then looked Ellie up and down. She sighed at the sight of Emma, then faced Beau. “If there’s no wedding, you’ll hear from me.”

“I’d expect so.”

Eager to be rid of her, Beau opened the door. She went to the buggy, where the detective helped her onto the seat, then lifted the reins. Not once did the old woman look back. That told Beau everything he needed to know about Harriet Lange. She had the discipline of a general. She’d keep her word about attending the wedding.

He closed the door and turned to Dani. Before he could speak, his nieces ran to him and hugged his waist. Beau dropped to a crouch so he could reach Esther. Her skinny arms twisted around his neck and he picked her up. He tousled Ellie’s hair and kissed the top of Emma’s head. He’d slain a dragon for them. Now he had to slay one for Dani and himself.

He set Esther down. “I need to speak with Dani. How about checking on T.C.?”

As obedient as lambs, the girls went outside. Dani looked weak in the knees, but she stayed on her feet. “What just happened?”

“Let’s sit down.”

He guided her to the divan. On the table he saw a cold pot of tea, the only evidence Harriet Lange had turned their world upside down. Beau dropped down next to Dani, then touched her back. “Are you all right?”

“I don’t know.”

His throat felt like gravel. “I meant what I said about Sunday.”

“But how? Josh won’t marry us.”

“He will if my heart’s right.” Beau hurried his words.

“Clay’s waiting, Dani. I can feel it. I’m going to hunt him down and be done with it.”

“Oh, Beau.”

“No matter what, I’ll be back by Sunday.”

When she closed her eyes, he imagined her thinking a prayer and dreaded what she’d say next. When she raised her face, he saw the woman who’d told him no at the stream.

“What if you don’t come back?” she asked.

“I will. I promise.”

Patrick had once said the same thing and they both knew it. She stood and walked to the window. “I want to believe you, Beau. But how can I? Anything could happen.”

He stayed silent.

Dani stared through the glass at the rutted yard. “We have to consider the girls.”

“I am.”

“Then stay.” She turned to him. “You weren’t here when Harriet Lange made Esther cry. She almost slapped Ellie. How can you leave, knowing she’d take them away?”

Her voice cracked. Beau wanted to throw the blasted teacups against the wall.

“Stay,” she said gently. “Let the authorities worry about Johnson.”

“I can’t.”

Her eyes burned with defiance. “I’m not sure I want to marry you.”

“Why not?”

“Because you hate Clay Johnson more than you love me.”

Beau pushed to his feet. He loved Dani. He’d just asked her to marry him, but he’d done a poor a job of it. He’d been so choked with hate for Clay that he hadn’t told her that he loved her. He wanted to say the words now, but he knew they’d sound hollow.

His throat hurt. “You and Clay…It’s apples and oranges.”

“It’s still a choice.”

She went to the door and opened it wide. “Go on, Beau. Leave. Do what you have to do.”

“All right,” he said. “Get your things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m taking you and the girls to town. You can stay with Josh and Adie.”

“Absolutely not!”

“It’s not a choice.”

“Oh yes, it is! I’m staying right here.”

Beau raked his hand through his hair. “I can’t leave you and girls unprotected. Clay could be watching right now.”

She raised her chin. “If you’re that worried, stay.”

“Six days,” he insisted. “That’s all I’m asking. Even if I don’t find Johnson, I’ll be back.”

“Then what?” she demanded.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Dani had a gleam in her eyes, the one he remembered from the day of the milking contest. It filled his mind with harmonies and the rhythm they’d found at the dance. He couldn’t stop himself from loving her, nor could he hold back a need as profound as air.

Protect this woman, Lord. Be with her. I’m a low-down cur bent on revenge. She deserves a man with a clean heart. Keep her safe, Lord. Give her joy.

With that silent prayer, Beau crossed a line. He wasn’t willing to listen to God, but he hoped God would listen to him. He wanted to quit hating Clay Johnson but didn’t know how. Dani had become an obstacle, one he had to shatter.

“Get packed,” he said with a growl.

Before she could argue, he stormed out of the house. He had to get ready for Johnson, so he strode into his room, where he kept his guns, ammunition, ropes and irons. He lugged his things into the barn, saddled his horse and tied down the tools of his trade. In the past, he’d have touched Lucy’s handkerchief and recalled her goodness. He couldn’t do that today. Dani had the hankie. In its place Beau carried the bullet from the Silver River. He touched the casing but found no comfort, only warm metal and a reminder of the ring he’d bought for Dani. He’d grown accustomed to carrying something that linked him to what he knew to be good, so he went back to his room, fetched the ring and put it in his pocket. Lucy’s hankie had reminded him of what he’d lost. The ring stood for what he hoped to gain.

He had six days to hunt down Clay Johnson. On the seventh, Beau would be in church with Dani. God willing, he’d find peace at last.

D
ani called the girls inside, told them Beau had to take a short trip and explained they’d all be staying with Pastor Josh and Adie. They went upstairs to pack a few clothes, leaving Dani to finish the cottage cheese. She packed it in a crock to take to the parsonage, made sandwiches for Howie who’d be tending the cows alone, then put a change of clothing for herself in the satchel she’d carried on the train.

Her decision to stay with Josh and Adie had nothing to do with Beau’s order. Dani needed to sort her thoughts, and Adie would listen all night if that’s what it took to understand why Beau couldn’t set down his hate for Clay Johnson. If Dani understood, maybe she could forgive him for leaving. As things were now, she felt wounded and alone. Earlier, she’d put Lucy’s hankie in her memory box. She took it out, pressed it in her Bible and added both things to the satchel. She carried it to the front porch where she saw Beau’s horse. A looped rope hung from the saddle, a leather scabbard held a rifle and the saddlebags bulged with provisions. Beau came out of the barn, leading the horse and surrey. Dressed in his duster and the faded clothes he’d worn the day they’d met, he looked like Cain.

As he lifted Esther into the surrey, Dani strode across the yard. Saying nothing, he helped her on to the seat. She took the reins, watching as he swung his tall body into the saddle, pulled his hat low and clicked to his horse. He might have been clicking to her, too, but Dani paid no attention. She had to see Adie and Josh.

When they arrived at the parsonage, Adie, as always, opened her home to them. Josh saw Beau and led him to the stable for a private talk. Ten minutes later, with Dani watching from the window, the men came out of the building. Josh headed to the parsonage. Beau rode west without a goodbye.

She hated parting company with unkind words between them, but she had nothing more to say. She’d begged Beau once and wouldn’t do it again. He knew the stakes, yet he’d chosen to go his own way. Dani stood at the window, watching him grow smaller with every stride of his horse. When he turned to a speck against the mountain, she let the curtain flutter back into place.

Pastor Josh opened the door. “How are you?”

“Angry. Afraid.”

“Let’s sit outside.”

Dani followed him out the door and took the chair facing the church, the same one she’d used her first day in Castle Rock. She’d been grieving, confused and doubtful of God’s plan in her life. Now she felt sure of the Almighty’s hand but feared for everyone she loved.

Josh walked past her to the railing and crossed his arms. “Beau’s an arrogant fool, but I understand why he’s going after Clay.”

“You do?”

“If someone harmed Adie, I’d be hard-pressed to practice what I preach.”

Dani wanted an ally. “But we have to forgive.”

“True.” Josh sat next to her. “But we’re not made that way. We need God’s mercy. It’s knowing we’re forgiven that gives us the grace to forgive others.”

“Beau will never forgive Clay Johnson.”

“Maybe, but God already has.”

Dani understood the cross. Christ had died to set men free. Ever since, human beings had battled between their sinful desires and the goodness of God. As the soul prospered, the flesh died. Until a man surrendered, he lived with constant conflict. A lump pushed into her throat. “Beau’s at war with himself, isn’t he?”

“And with God.”

She thought of Josh’s sermon about a man walking by the light of his own fire. He’d described Beau that day. She didn’t want to be that kind of woman. “I have to stay strong.”

“You will.” Josh sounded confident.

“It’s a matter of faith.”

“And knowing God loves Beau even more than you do.”

Dani almost smiled. “Loving him can be a trial, that’s for sure.”

Josh looked pleased. “Most men are. Beau’s stubborn and willful, just the way God made him. The Lord knows how we feel.”

“Beau wants justice.”

“So does the Lord.”

“It’s hard.” Dani’s voice quavered.

“We have a hard God,” Josh replied. “He loved us enough to sacrifice His own son. I don’t know what Beau’s going to face in that canyon, but I know with certainty he’s not riding alone.”

The minister’s faith gave Dani comfort, but she had to face the facts. Beau had gone to war. Soldiers died.

Dani’s stomach clenched. “I feel so helpless.”

“We’re not. We can pray.”

Before they could bow their heads, Adie opened the front door. “Josh? We need you. The girls are frightened.”

Dani pushed to her feet. “Where are they?”

“In the front room,” Adie replied. “I’m hoping Josh will tell us a story.”

“Sure,” he answered.

Dani followed Adie into the house, with Josh ushering both women through the door. She saw the girls on the divan. Stephen had gone to a friend’s house, but Adie had set up his checkerboard. It sat untouched on the table. As Dani settled next to Emma, Josh and Adie took their usual chairs. They traded a look that made Dani ache.

“Adie thinks we need a story,” Josh said to the girls.

“What’ll it be?”

Ellie spoke up. “The one Dani told us.”

“About Daniel and the lions,” Emma explained.

“Good choice,” Josh said. “Who knows how it starts?”

“I do,” Ellie said. “The king put Daniel in a cave.”

“Was he alone?”

“There were lions,” Esther said. “
Hungry
ones.”

“They roared,” said Ellie.

“That’s right.” Josh sounded serious. “Was Daniel afraid?”

The girls said nothing. Dani took the lead. “I know he was, because I’m scared right now.”

“Me, too.” Emma’s voice trembled. “What if Uncle Beau doesn’t come back?”

Josh looked at the girls one at a time, then focused on Emma. “Your uncle isn’t in a cave with a real lion, but he’s locked up with something just as big.”

“What?” Ellie asked.

Josh looked to Dani for help. The girls had heard about their Aunt Lucy, but they didn’t know she’d been murdered. How did an adult explain hate to a child? Dani didn’t know, but she understood love. She wanted the girls to understand that part of Beau. “Do you remember about your Uncle Beau being married?”

The girls nodded.

“Your Aunt Lucy died because of bad man in Denver.” Dani skipped the details. “The bad man got away. Your Uncle Beau wants to put him in jail.”

Esther looked puzzled. “Is he in a cave with the bad man?”

“Sort of,” Dani answered. “He can’t stop being angry. That feeling roars all the time, just like a real lion.”

Josh chimed in. “Who knows what happened to Daniel?”

“I do,” said Emma. “God put the lions to sleep.”

“He kept Daniel safe,” Josh said. “I’m praying the bad things around your uncle go to sleep just like the lions.”

“Me, too,” Dani said.

Josh looked at Adie. “Feed our guests, but I won’t be having supper tonight.”

“Why not?” Ellie asked.

“We can pray in all different ways,” he said. “We can talk to God out loud or think in our heads. Tonight I’m praying with my whole body. Every time my belly growls, I’ll be saying a prayer for your uncle.”

Dani looked at Adie. “I won’t be eating, either.”

“That’s three of us,” Adie said. “We’ll spend the evening on our knees.”

“Four,” Emma said. “I can pray, too.”

“Five,” said Ellie.

“Seven!” cried Esther.

Emma frowned at her. “You mean six.”

“No, I mean seven. I’m counting Jesus.”

Dani’s eyes misted. How could God not honor the faith of a child?

Beau rode down the same trail he’d traveled with Dawes, only farther. Pressing his roan, he went past the cave where he’d seen the ash and straight down the throat of Sparrow Canyon.

He’d been riding for three days now, almost four. If he turned around this instant, he’d get back Saturday afternoon. He’d have time to clean up and have a word with Dani before they took the vows Beau now feared he wouldn’t be able to keep. He loved her. He’d be faithful to her in body and mind, but his soul would still be hunting Clay.

Clay…When had Beau started thinking of the outlaw by his given name? He tried to pinpoint the moment but couldn’t. Neither could he decide whether to go forward or turn around. He had a few more hours of daylight. The ride back, all downhill, would be quicker than the ride up the canyon, but he had to consider the weather. The afternoon had turned sultry. The still air promised a storm, anything from a drizzle to a downpour.

Beau looked carefully at the sides of the ravine. The trail cut deep into the mountain about ten feet above the streambed. Boulders secured the base. Even if the stream flooded, a distinct possibility if it stormed, Beau felt certain he’d be secure. Looking ahead he saw a bend around a ridge. He knew from Dawes that Sparrow Canyon opened up beyond that spot. A meadow would offer grass and fresh water, the perfect place for Johnson to linger. One more mile…Beau couldn’t turn back now. He nudged the roan up the trail.

A hundred yards later, he heard thunder. Clouds boiled over the mountains and turned the sky gray. A drop of rain hit his hat. Another landed on his gloved hand. Ten feet below him, Sparrow Creek rushed past the boulders like an animal on the run.

Common sense told Beau to go home, but he ignored the nudge. He had to see around the next bend.

Lightning flashed across the sky. Thunder rolled through Beau like an erratic heartbeat. One minute it pounded; the next it stopped with a hint of death. Rain fell in buckets. He flashed on Emma dousing him in the garden, but he kept going. Below him, Sparrow Creek had picked up speed. A new roar filled Beau’s ears. Unlike the thunder, it came from the earth itself. Suddenly skittish, his horse backpedaled. Beau looked up the ravine and saw a wall of water, six feet high and rolling over itself, rushing down Sparrow Canyon.

He had considered the possibility of a flash flood, but he’d expected two or three feet at the most. He’d never seen anything as high and deep and wide as the water coming straight at him. He believed the trail would hold, but his horse didn’t have the same hope. The animal balked. At the same instant, a boulder the size of a melon tumbled down the mountain. It caught the roan’s back leg and knocked the animal half off the trail. To give the horse a chance, Beau rolled out of the saddle. He smacked facedown in the mud and lost his wind. The roan’s churning legs cut away at the mountain. Beau started to slide. The horse found purchase and heaved itself to safety, but Beau couldn’t get a toehold in the mud. He slid a foot, then another. Water filled his boots. The current sucked at his knees.

He lost his gloves and clawed with his bare hands. When he found a stringy root, he gripped it. No thicker than a pencil, it bore his weight. He found a second root, thicker this time, and pulled his legs out of the water. A boulder tumbled past his head. He looked up, saw another ready to fall and slithered on his belly until he reached a stable part of the trail.

With his sides heaving, Beau pictured red apples, little girls with pink cheeks and Dani in a white dress. He heard milk hissing into a bucket and imagined her rose-petal lips. Rocking with the rhythm of their one dance, he called himself a fool. He had business to do with God and he knew it, but movement up the canyon caught his eye.

Peering into the rain, fading now, Beau saw a man on a gray horse. He hadn’t seen Clay Johnson in five years, but he knew the slope of his shoulders. When the outlaw went for his rifle, Beau cursed the weapon that had killed Lucy.

Johnson raised the Winchester to his shoulder.

Beau went for his Colt.

Clay squinted down the barrel.

Beau took aim and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. No recoil. No smoke. Only the empty click of a misfire. Beau cursed himself for a fool. Mud and rain had dampened the gunpowder.

Looking at Clay now, he expected to die. If the rifle shot didn’t kill him, the ride to Castle Rock would. He’d grieve Dani and the girls. He’d die without telling her that he loved her. She’d go back to a lonely life in Wisconsin, and the girls would be doomed to tea parties with Harriet Lange. This moment, Beau realized, had been born of his own arrogance. Life and death—only God could make the call. Beau knew that now.

Have mercy on me, Lord.

He saw the next two seconds the way he’d seen Lucy die. Every detail came alive. Water dripped from Clay’s hat and splashed on his glove. His oilskin poncho turned from black to silver and cast a bluish light on his hollow cheeks. His eyes, black and empty, couldn’t have been more lifeless. Beau could have choked on the irony. He’d spent five years chasing a man who was already dead, at least on the inside.

He steeled himself for the bullet, but it didn’t come. No blast. No smoke. Only the rush of the stream as Clay lowered the weapon. Wordless, the outlaw turned his horse and disappeared into the mist, leaving Beau to wonder what in the world had just happened.

A hundred yards up the canyon, Clay slid off his horse, dropped to his knees and threw up. When he’d seen Morgan crawling in the mud, he’d instinctively aimed his rifle. He’d told himself to fire, but his finger hadn’t pulled the trigger. Not even when Morgan shot first had Clay been able to do the deed. Why not?