Bounty Hunter Proposal (2 page)

Coming to visit the Sutton home always left Isabelle feeling relaxed and content. The boys played all day with the Sutton children. When they sat down to dinner it was a noisy, happy atmosphere with the most wonderful food. Their cook liked to dote on Seth and Luke, making their favorite cakes and cookies.

Isabelle sat at the table eating the last of her apple pie and half-listening to Cameron and Ben Sutton talk about cattle prices. Candlelight flickered, casting shadows over the table. It was littered with the remnants of a sumptuous dinner. The nanny had come after the children finished dessert and taken them upstairs to bathe and get ready for bed.

Violet sat across the table, watching her as she ate. Savannah watched as well, and Isabelle gave them a perplexed look. Violet tilted her head towards the parlor and then shot a quick look at the men. Isabelle slowly set down her fork, and both women nodded.

“Well, if you’re done eating, Isabelle, we can retire to the parlor,” Savannah said.

Isabelle looked at Savannah, her curiosity building, but Savannah’s expression gave nothing away.

“If you’ll excuse us, gentlemen,” Violet said.

Cameron and Ben both nodded and returned to their conversation.

Isabelle followed them to the parlor, and once they were inside the room, Savannah shut the doors.

“Sit down,” Violet commanded.

Isabelle sat and waited. Both women yearned to tell her something, and she was beside herself with curiosity. Her heart hammered against her breastbone. What if it was bad news?

Savannah sat down beside her and took her hand. “Violet and I have come upon a solution to your problem.”

“My problem?”

“Well, to be accurate,
you
came up with a solution to your problem.”

“I did?” Isabelle asked. She looked from Savannah to Violet and back again. “What problem?”

“You, my dear, lack a husband,” Violet said.

Isabelle stiffened. “I don’t lack for anything.”

Both women pursed their lips with an expression of sympathy and disappointment, like she was some foolish child caught in a mistruth.

Violet took out a piece of paper and held it up. It was a marriage proxy just like the one she’d signed before she’d come to Texas. That one had Jerome Holt’s name on it. She’d signed it and sent it back, her signature making the marriage legal and binding.

Isabelle leaned forward and peered at the paper to read the name. “Who is Matthias Hudson?”

Violet’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction. “Only the most feared bounty hunter in the South.”

“I’ve never heard of him.”

Violet shrugged. “That doesn’t matter. Everyone in Texas has heard of him, and trust me, he strikes fear into the hearts of even the most hardened criminal. He’s hired to find the most vile and unpleasant men. When all else fails, Matthias Hudson is called in. That’s why he makes a thousand dollars per bounty.”

“A thousand dollars,” Isabelle whispered. “That’s not possible. Who would pay that?”

“Not many people can afford his services,” Savannah said. “Sometimes you don’t hear about him for a year or more, and then he slips into town with some devil that he presents to the sheriff, and then he’s gone again.”

“He’s like a ghost,” Violet said.

Isabelle frowned. “Who is he going to marry?”

Violet’s face lit with pleasure. “You, dear one. He’s going to marry
you
. And when the town of Colter Canyon hears you’re wedded to Matthias Hudson, not one man will give you a bit of trouble.”

Isabelle snorted. “I don’t know this man. He doesn’t know me.”

Violet waved a dismissive hand. “Pfft. You didn’t know Jerome. Besides, he won’t be around. He’s just lending his name to a good cause. He’s a man whose primary interest is justice.”

“It sounds like his primary interest is money,” Isabelle said. “Why would he offer to do this?”

Savannah and Violet both drew a sharp breath. They looked at each other for a long moment, and then Savannah got up and walked to the window. She stood their gazing out into the darkness.

“He’s a good man and doesn’t like innocent women to be threatened, and let’s be clear. The fire that burned down the chicken coop was no accident, it was a threat, a warning,” Savannah said.

Fear stabbed Isabelle’s heart. She thought about the boys and their nightmares and how fearful they were this morning. She knew it was a warning, but what could she do about it?

Savannah turned from the window, her brow creased with worry. “It would be just like your marriage to Jerome, one of convenience.”

Isabelle’s face heated. She’d never said the words aloud, but sweet, sickly, doddering Jerome had told the world he needed a girl to keep house and care for the boys. He didn’t want a wife. He told her plainly in his first letter that he had no carnal needs. In truth it was what sold her on the idea. Sharing a marital bed with a stranger terrified her. She’d refused many men seeking mail-order brides until Jerome’s letter came. The fact that he had two small boys who needed mothering made his marriage offer that much more enticing.

“Think of the boys,” Savannah said.

“I don’t know about this,” Isabelle murmured. “What if I don’t like him, and he doesn’t like me?”

“He never comes to little towns like Colter Canyon. He sticks to the big cities where he makes the big money.”

Isabelle narrowed her eyes at Violet. “Are you suggesting I’ll never see him?”

Violet nodded. “Yes, something like that.”

“He knows nothing about this, does he?” Isabelle’s voice shook.

Savannah held her hands up in an attempt to soothe her. “This is a good idea, Isabelle. You need to trust us.”

“You forged a man’s signature?” Isabelle jerked to her feet. “On a marriage license?”

Violet jumped up. “
Sign the damn paper, Isabelle!”

There was a soft knock at the door. “Everything all right in there?” Cameron asked.

“Just fine!” Isabelle clapped her hand over her mouth. Her reply was far louder than necessary. She half-expected Cameron to come charging into the room to see if all was well, but his footsteps retreated down the hallway.

No one spoke. Isabelle could hear her blood rushing in her ears. Were her circumstances so pathetic that she needed to conjure up a false marriage to some distant stranger? Did she need to stoop to a farce that was probably illegal, not to mention immoral?

Savannah set her hand on her shoulder, and Isabelle looked up into her warm eyes.

“He’ll never know, Isabelle. The man never comes to Colter Canyon,” she whispered. “Don’t do this for yourself. Do it for the boys.”

Isabelle closed her eyes. They prickled with tears. The boys. Savannah
had
to mention the boys. Sometimes Isabelle thought she was strong and other times she felt weak as a lamb. Her life in Texas showed her the two extremes every day, from triumph to despair and back again, sometimes all in the same minute. Throughout it all, her beacon shone. The small light glimmered and showed the path, the life she yearned to give Seth and Luke. She rubbed her forehead and drew a trembling breath. “Give me a pen.”

One Month Later

Isabelle stepped into the feed store and nodded at the man holding the door for her. He tipped his hat and gave a respectful nod.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Hudson,” he said.

She smiled in response. “Yes, it is, isn’t it?”

A month had passed since she’d signed her name to a marriage license to marry a man she’d never heard of. The first few days she’d hardly been able to sleep at night. She was a fraud. A cheat. But when she went to town to shop or order supplies, not one man approached her. All of them gave her a wide berth. Shop owners treated her with the utmost respect.

Even more surprising was the difference she felt in herself. She took a little extra care with her dress and her hair. If she was going to town or to church, she’d wear something other than simple muslin. Even Violet noticed, giving her approving looks.

No one asked her much about Matthias, thank goodness. Ben and Cameron never said a word to her about the matter, and people in town assumed the man simply didn’t come around much. A time or two when a shopkeeper mentioned Matthias Hudson’s name, she waved it off, telling them how busy he was chasing criminals.

Isabelle strolled around the feed store, stopping by a crate of puppies. A ‘For Sale’ sign hung on the front. Thank goodness she’d left the boys at the Sutton Ranch. It was always challenging to bring them to town, but if they were here now they’d both be clamoring for a pup.

The mother lay amidst her litter and thumped her tail. Four pups wrestled and rolled about, bumping into her. With their toffee-colored coat and cinnamon eyes, they were tiny versions of their mother. A smaller one lay curled next to her. He lifted his head and gazed at Isabelle.

“Some fine pups there, Mrs. Hudson. Take your pick.” The shopkeeper came to her side, Mr. Rawlings, a robust man with spectacles on the end of his nose.

“They’re beautiful. I wish I could take them all.”

“The little one resting by momma has never done too well. He’s the runt, but any of the others would be fine dogs. The sire is from the Ramirez Ranch. Sal Ramirez is very proud of his dogs. He raises the best dogs in Colter Canyon.”

“Who owns the dam?”

“That’s Honey. She’s mine. Sweetest-natured dog you ever met.”

The runt yawned. His pink tongue lolled out, and he chirped, sounding more like a little bird than a dog. He had a dark circle of fur around one eye, a pirate’s patch.

“He’s a little darling, that one.”

“You don’t want the runt. Take one of the others.”

“I love his little patch.”

The shopkeeper picked up the runt and set it in her hands. Isabelle couldn’t help but smile. The little one’s coat was silken. She sniffed his head and closed her eyes.

“He has such a sweet smell.”

“Puppies are like that. This little fella is a nuisance though. He cries all night. You ought to pick one of the others.”

Isabelle sighed. While she’d love nothing more than to bring the boys a surprise, she couldn’t imagine caring for another creature just yet. The boys still woke her, crying out from their bad dreams. She was often so tired in the evenings, she’d fall asleep in her chair by the fire. The last thing she needed was something else that cried at night.

“I don’t know the first thing about dogs. I’d best wait. Maybe next time Honey has a litter I’ll see about getting one.”

Mr. Rawlings nodded. “I’ll be sure to let you know.”

Reluctantly, Isabelle left the dogs and went to the counter to make an order for feed and hay. While she paid for her purchase, a man and woman came into the feed store. They had two boys with them and stopped by the puppies.

The shopkeeper tilted his head towards them. “Sure you don’t want to get the pick of the litter before someone else does, Mrs. Hudson?”

Isabelle didn’t want the pick of the litter. What she wanted was the small pup with the patch over his eye. She already had stories coming to mind to tell Seth, stories of Sinbad the pirate puppy, the most feared puppy in the western seas, but she kept her wits about her… She knew she’d get even less sleep if she had that tiny bit of fluff under her roof.

“No thank you, Mr. Rawlings.”

The family had chosen a puppy, she could tell by the delighted sounds coming from the boys. One of the boys came to the counter holding a wriggling pup, one of the bigger ones, and Isabelle was pleased to see he hadn’t picked the littlest one. The two boys chattered excitedly.

They were older than Seth and Luke, but Isabelle could easily imagine how her boys would love a little pup. She pushed her guilt aside and finished with her order. She hurried out of the store and went down the walkway to the livery.

She’d already spent two hours in town, and Shorty would probably be waiting at the livery barn. Cowboys on horseback filled the street, kicking up dust and grit. The walkway was crowded, and she wondered what might be going on to bring so many people to Colter Canyon.

At the livery she found Shorty leaning against a railing. He spoke with one of the hands, another older gentleman, the owner of the barn.

“All I can say is that the womenfolk of Colter Canyon can sleep easy for the first time in a long while,” he said.

“What’s happened?” Isabelle broke in.

Both men turned to look at her, but neither spoke.

“I’m sorry. I hate to eavesdrop.”

Shorty took off his hat and scratched his head.

“Actually, I love to eavesdrop,” Isabelle said, giving him what she hoped was a winning smile. “Tell me, Shorty. I want to know.”

“Not really fit for lady’s hearing.”

She frowned. “I will pester you all the way home.”

The two men grinned at her, but still neither filled her in on what they’d been talking about. A young man brought the buckboard to the front door of the livery. The bays snorted. One pawed the ground.

“Flynn’s ready to head home,” Shorty said, gesturing to the gelding. “And it’s hard to talk over the rattle of the wagon.”

Isabelle followed him to the wagon and let him help her up. “This just makes me want to know more.”

Shorty climbed on and shook his head as he snapped the reins. He steered the wagon through the streets, picking his way slowly to avoid the busier parts. They passed the post office and barbershop. Isabelle cast a few curious glances his way. His mouth was a grim line, but finally he broke his silence.

“Folks are coming to town because they expect a hanging.”

Isabelle felt crestfallen. She hadn’t expected that sort of news. “Oh, dear. I hate to hear about that sort of thing.”

“It’s a good thing. The man’s worse than a criminal.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Shorty’s mouth quirked, and he huffed a few heavy sighs. “The fellow’s a murderer, and he killed women.” He turned to her, his eyes etched with worry and anger. “They caught him just outside of town. So I’m mighty glad he’s behind bars. The man’s an animal. I might just go and help build the gallows myself.”

“I see,” Isabelle said. Shorty usually didn’t say more than a few words at a time, and it was painful to hear him so eager to help put another man to his death. “I’m sorry I asked.”

He didn’t reply. They reached the outskirts of town, and he put the horses into a trot. The harness jingled, and the wagon rumbled along the rutted road. Behind them, sitting in the tiny Colter Canyon jail, was a criminal so monstrous he even scared Shorty. She shuddered and tried to banish the thoughts from her mind. Sometimes, she decided, it was better not to ask too many questions.