Bounty Hunter Proposal (3 page)

Matthias Hudson settled on the barstool of the Magnolia and ordered a whiskey. Usually he didn’t have a drink at noon, but after the last few days, he decided he deserved a whiskey, maybe two.

“Care to buy a girl a drink?”

Clarice’s voice never failed to bring a smile to his lips, especially since it had been three or four years since he’d been in Colter Canyon. He turned to find her standing beside him, looking smug. She probably imagined the money she might win from him in a few hands of poker.

“Clarice,” he said amiably. “You know I’m madly in love with you, and it hurts my feelings you even ask. Of course I’ll buy you a drink.”

The Magnolia’s Madame wore a gown that lifted her breasts and cinched in her waist to a narrow span. She had girls working at the saloon that were half her age, but not one could brag about such an enviable figure. While she was still beautiful, it wasn’t her looks that he liked best about Clarice. It was her sharp mind and dry sense of humor.

Clarice sat down beside him and leaned forward. “Is it true, Matt?”

Matt motioned for the barkeep to bring Clarice a drink and waited until he’d poured the drink and moved on to another customer before asking, “Is what true?”

Clarice’s eyes sparkled as she took a dainty sip of her whiskey. “Usually I can spot a liar, and I’ve never known you to be one, so I guess it’s just a rumor.”

“Most likely,” he agreed. “Here I thought you were coming over to congratulate me for delivering Darrell Hughes to Sheriff Reid.”

Clarice’s lips turned down. “About damn time someone did something about that man. He’s an animal. I could tell right away. He used to come in and try to hire some of my girls. There are men who like it a little rough, and then there are men who like to play with blades. That son of a bitch cut one of my girls. She started screaming, and I had to break the door down to get to her. I knew right away who killed that poor girl in Sandia Springs.”

Matt nodded. Hughes had killed several women across Texas. Matt knew the details of the killing spree. It was his job to know the men he hunted, their crimes and what they had done and might do. Hughes was one of the worst he’d ever hunted, a man with no regard for life. Matt could tell Clarice plenty about Hughes, but he wouldn’t. Clarice might be the toughest woman he knew, and she cussed better than most men, but still, the details of Hughes’ crimes were better left unsaid.

He drained his drink and gestured for another. “All right Clarice, let’s talk about something that doesn’t have me thinking about Hughes. Tell me what the rumor is?”

Her eyes glittered. “That you married Jerome Holt’s widow?”

He was lifting his glass to his mouth and paused. “Come again?”

“Isabelle Holt. His mail-order bride. She came in from Boston to find him on his deathbed. She tried to nurse him back to health but wasn’t a week before he was pushing up daisies. Left her with two little ones.”

Clarice arched a brow. “None of this rings a bell?”

Matt took a swallow of his drink. “You’ve got the wrong man.”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Kind of what I figured. You’re never going to settle down. Or if you do, it won’t be in some two-horse town like Colter Canyon. Although I’d sure like it if you stayed on. Then we could fire Sheriff Reid and have us a real lawman in charge.”

Giving a contemptuous snort, she shot the rest of her whiskey. “The bad elements in this town are more scared of me than that little pencil neck.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Last year he lost those two Williams brothers. The bank robbers. Now how do you lose a pair of bank robbers? They went on to rob three more banks before they got shot, not by the bank owner, but the bank owner’s
mother.
I was telling everyone who’d listen that we ought to offer that ol’ girl a job as sheriff of Colter Canyon. Anyone would be better than Reid.”

“Yeah, I heard about that. Reid says he had some work done so the jail would be a little more secure. It better be. If I have to go after Hughes a second time I’ll shoot him myself, and maybe Sheriff Reid along with him.”

“Now you’re talking,” Clarice said.

Matt rubbed his forehead. “I’m tired. It’s been a long few days. All I want is a room at the hotel and a long nap.” Getting to his feet, he reached into his pocket to pay for his drinks. To his surprise Clarice waved him off.

“On the house,” she said. “I heard you drove a blade into that bastard and cut off a finger. That deserves a drink, in my book. Hell, I’ll even spring for one of my girls to show you a little fun, if you like.”

Matt shook his head and marveled that she knew about the severed finger. Hughes had pulled a knife on him, which was a bad idea. In seconds Matt had taken the knife away, and when Hughes lunged to get it back he lost his small finger on his left hand. The man had bawled all the way to Colter Canyon.

“How’d you know about his finger, Clarice?”

Clarice chuckled. “Matthias Hudson, I’ve been around a long, long time. I find about things so quick, sometimes they haven’t even happened yet.”

Matthias chuckled. It felt good to have a drink with Clarice. The last week had been long and hard. Hughes fought one minute and caterwauled the next. Matthias had never been so damn glad to hand off a criminal.

Clarice tilted her head towards the stairwell. Matt followed her eyes to see one of Clarice’s girls descending, a lovely brunette. She smiled at him and winked.

Clarice lowered her voice. “Suzette would love to spend a little time with a big, handsome bounty hunter. She’s a lot of fun. Adventurous.”

Matt nodded to the woman. She was lovely, but a girl like that wasn’t what he was looking for. He wasn’t sure
what
he was looking for, but he figured he’d know when he saw it. He shook his head. “Thank you. Maybe some other time.”

Clarice frowned. “How long are you in town?”

“I’ll be staying a few days at the Cypress Hotel. Been looking forward to that for the last week. Once Hughes is sentenced and hanged, I’ll be on my way.”

She pouted. “At least come by and show me how to play poker. I could use a few tips.”

He scoffed. “Right, Clarice. You got your eye on that reward money I have coming.”

“I’ll be waiting if you change your mind.” She winked. “About cards or company.”

Matthias tipped his hat, and with a respectful nod, walked out of the saloon. He pushed through the saloon doors to the sidewalk and eyed the bustle of the town. It was just a little past noon. Next on his list was to pick up a few things at the Mercantile, and then he’d go to the Cypress Hotel, get the finest room they had and order lunch and a bath.

His horse, Arlo, tied to the hitching post, swished his tail. The Cypress had a livery barn, and he planned on making sure Arlo got a good rub down and a bran mash this afternoon. After riding a hundred miles in four days, the horse deserved a little extra attention.

Normally, when he delivered a criminal, he didn’t stay in town to make sure the man got what he had coming, but he didn’t trust Sheriff Reid. The man wasn’t dishonest, but he was inept and cowardly and, if rumors were true, a drunk. Clarice had a point when she said most of the town would be more afraid of her than Sheriff Reid.

Matt untied his horse, mounted and trotted up the road to the feed store. He tied Arlo to the hitching post. He needed some liniment for Arlo but found himself looking down at a crate with a dog and a pup. The sign said, pups for sale, but there was only the one, a tiny fellow with a patch over one eye.

The storekeeper came over. “Sold the last one just a few minutes ago. No one wants the runt. Can’t say I blame them.”

“You going to let him stay with his momma a little longer?”

The man shook his head. “If I can’t sell them, I have no use for them. I’m going to do away with this one.”

“Do away?”

The man nodded. “I should have destroyed him when he was born, but the wife wouldn’t let me.”

“I’ll take him.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

The man nodded. “He’s all yours.” He reached into the crate, grabbed the pup by the scruff and lifted him. The pup yelped. Matthias took the wriggling ball of fur in his hands and peered at him. The pup stared back.

“Shit,” he grumbled. He tucked the pup under his arm, bought the liniment and left the feed store. He shoved the bottle in his saddle bag and led Arlo to the Mercantile next door. The dog was quiet, wide eyed. Matthias didn’t have much of an opinion on dogs, but he couldn’t imagine this little dog could be too much trouble. Who the hell kills a pup, he thought with disgust.

After he tied Arlo’s reins to the post, he strolled into the store. The pup had tucked his face against Matt’s arm either to sleep or to hide. Maybe someone at the livery would take the critter of his hands. The last damn thing he wanted was something that needed taking care of. The only responsibility he wanted was Arlo.

He glanced around the Mercantile. For a small town it was surprisingly well stocked. There were dry goods, fabric, garden tools, a few copper tubs and franklin stoves. The smell of peppermints drew his attention. Large glass jars held brightly colored sticks of candy. He selected some saddle soap and a new pair of spurs for himself, setting them on the counter.

“Give me some dark thread and a couple of sewing needles,” he told the shopkeeper. “A few of those peppermint sticks, too.”

The spry, grey-haired man clad in a smock hurried to fill the order, noting the purchases on a pad and wrapping them in paper. He tied a string around the parcel.

“That comes to two dollars and fifteen cents, Mr. Hudson.”

Matt could feel the attention of the other customers. Usually he came and went without being recognized. The shop grew quiet. A man and wife stood at the counter beside him, and the woman’s hand flew to her throat. She let out a small gasp and then smiled timidly. Two young boys gaped, and a young woman gazed with a mixture of admiration and apprehension.

An elderly gentleman took off his hat and nodded. “We’re lucky to have a man like you bring in Darrell Hughes. Thank you, sir.”

A few people muttered their agreement.

“Happy to be of service,” Matthias murmured, turning away. The pup shifted in his arms, burrowing deeper.

“Would you like me to put that on your account?” the storekeeper asked.

It took a moment for Matt to realize the man was addressing him. “What account?”

The shopkeeper looked up from his pad. “The account we have for Mrs. Hudson.”

Matt waited for him to say more, but the man merely gave him a blank look.

“Mrs. Hudson set up an account here?” Matthias asked. “A Mrs.
Matthias
Hudson?”

“Yes, sir.” The man pulled out a ledger and flipped through the pages until he found the one he wanted. He set it on the counter and traced the columns with his finger. “Here we are. She came in a month after Pastor Holt’s funeral. She told us that she’d married again and needed the account to be moved to your name.”

“
Poor girl,
” someone muttered. “
Tragic…
”

“
Widowed at nineteen…and insistin’ on keepin’ those two young-uns…”

Matt clenched his fist as he looked at the ledger in disbelief. Numbers, written in pencil, lined neatly along columns. The woman who was posing as his wife had done a fair bit of shopping. His vision clouded with anger. Who would dare do this? He never stayed in one place for long, but wherever he went he was treated with respect, even awe, and now some woman walked the streets of Colter Canyon having stolen something he prized. His good name.

“How much is the balance on the account?” He could feel the eyes of the townspeople on him and tried to keep his tone even.

“Mrs. Hudson has made regular payments with that needlework of hers. Ladies around here buy it up the minute she brings it into the store. She’s real talented. You must be proud.”

The shopkeeper lifted his index finger, and his eyes lit. “I planned on delivering the silk for her sometime this week, but seeing as you’re probably heading that way, I’ll let you take it.”

The shopkeeper pulled out a length of material, checked the tag and nodded. Scanning the ledger, he hummed and ran his finger across the page. “Yes, she paid for this last time.”

Matt took the edge of the material and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. It was pale blue, whisper thin and translucent. He tried to imagine a woman who’d stood right where he was standing and ordered this silk. His fury faded for a moment as he peered at the material.

“What the hell did she buy this for?”

The clerk’s neck colored. He coughed. “I believe it’s for a night gown, sir.”

The floorboards creaked behind him. People muttered, and Matt could feel their curious gazes on him and the silk.

“
Why, that’s pretty….Isabelle Hudson’s a real beauty…that she is...”

A ribbon tied around the silk had a tag.
Isabelle Hudson. Pine Road
.

Matt gritted his teeth, but he schooled his features to conceal his rage as he shifted the pup so he could reach his wallet. He took out his money and set it on the counter. He scanned his purchases, things he needed for his job as a bounty hunter. Usually he would buy bullets and rope and other supplies, but today all he needed was a pair of spurs and a few other odds and ends. The shiny rowels glinted on the counter, sitting next to the blue silk.