Colin's Quest (15 page)

“I’ve got to send a message to Da, then I’ll meet you.” Colin finished buckling his gun belt, then shoved his hat down on his head. Several days had passed since meeting the Olfords. Even though it killed him, he slept alone each night, not wanting to risk anyone seeing him leave Sarah’s house or let Geneen know the extent of their relationship. Instead, they’d ride out of town after school let out each day, find a quiet place, and make love.

The first time, they disappeared until early evening. Sarah guided him to a beautiful glen covered in dense, green growth and trees with wide canopies. Taking his hand, they walked along a nearby river, stopping at the edge of a ravine, the sound of water catching his attention. Pushing through thick brush, they came upon the falls. Water plummeted over the edge and into a deep pool below. Tightening his grip on her hand, he’d led her down the path, finding a wide expanse of flat ground along the pool’s edge. Pulling her to him, he captured her mouth with his, heat pulsing through both of them within seconds. Taking their time, they removed each other’s clothing, making love with every touch and each kiss until both were spent. They’d returned to the same spot each day since.

“We’ll save you a place at the table.” Quinn followed Brodie to a nearby saloon. They’d spent considerable time there since Colin found Sarah. Stuck didn’t begin to explain how Quinn felt at their inability to start for home. He knew she’d asked the town leaders to find a replacement. All they could do now was wait.

Colin nodded, even though he had no desire to spend another evening drinking and playing cards. He wanted to be with Sarah, not with his two rowdy cousins, no matter how much he loved them.

Bessie had encouraged them to marry while in River City, letting Reverend Olford perform the rights. Even though it appealed to them, Colin wanted his family around when he wed Sarah. It no longer mattered to her where they married. Her father disowning her and Geneen had changed her feelings on having family present. Geneen would be there, and that’s all that mattered to Sarah.

“Here you are.” Colin handed the message he’d scribbled to the telegraph clerk, dropping coins on the counter.

“MacLaren, huh? I believe there’s a message waiting for you.” Searching a file, he pulled out the telegram. “This came a few days ago.”

Reading it quickly, smiling at the brief query from his father as to their safety, Colin made a slight change to his original message. “You’ll find me at the hotel if you get a response.”

Stepping into the chilled evening air, he pulled out his pocket watch, knowing Sarah and Geneen would be at the Olford’s for supper. If they’d accept, Bessie would have them all over every night.

The week had dragged by, with few men in the saloon most nights. Tonight, every chair was taken, except for one next to Quinn.

“Sit down, laddie. I’ve a run of bad luck. Maybe you’ll help me turn it around.” Quinn tossed back his whiskey, smiling at the barmaid who stopped next to him. “A whiskey for my friends and another for me.”

After Colin arrived, Quinn’s luck
did
improve, as did Brodie’s mood. At twenty-two, the same age as Quinn, Brodie had always been more brooding and wary of strangers than either of his cousins. Tonight, he drank his whiskey at a slow pace, even when two untouched drinks sat before him.

“The whiskey not to your liking?” Colin asked, also sipping his drink, in no mood to let alcohol get the better of him. Throughout the evening, Colin had watched two men across from him, each taking unexpected interest in him, Quinn, and Brodie. Their continued perusal irritated him, yet he had no reason to expect trouble from the strangers.

“I’m out.” Brodie set down his cards, glancing around the saloon, trying to determine what bothered him. Leaning over, he kept his voice low. “I’ve a gnawing in my gut.”

The comment produced a quick response from Colin, who straightened. Since they’d been children, Brodie had an uncanny ability to foretell danger. Whenever his eyes looked cold and restless, his kin had learned to be watchful. Most of the family had learned to heed his warnings. The fact Colin felt unease at the same time as Brodie made him all the more on edge.

“I need some air.” Colin finished his drink and started outside, Brodie close behind. Putting the noise of the saloon behind them, they crossed the street. “What is it?”

Brodie turned his head, looking for the movement he expected. “We’re being watched. I don’t know who, how many, or what they want. All I know is there are eyes on us, Colin.”

He’d no more than finished his sentence when gunshots came from the saloon.

“Quinn,” Brodie muttered before dashing across the street, his chest tightening. Shoving through the doors, his gaze landed on Quinn, prone on the floor, blood pooling around him.

Chapter Ten

“Get the doctor.” Colin’s shout moved people to action. Grabbing one of the men who’d been at their table, he dragged him forward. “Who did this?” The man stammered before Colin yanked him closer. “Who. Did. This?”

His voice shook as he pointed to a door behind the bar. “They ran out that way.” He swallowed a lump of fear. “I didn’t recognize either of them.”

Colin pushed the man away, turning around. “Does anyone know who shot Quinn? I need a name.”

The crowd moved away as men shook their heads or stared at the ground.

“I’ve seen them in here before. They were asking about work, but I don’t know if they found jobs.” The bartender set his unfired shotgun on the bar as the door swung open and the doctor hurried toward Quinn. Kneeling, he took a quick look, shaking his head.

“It’s bad. We need to get him to my office.”

“You and you,” Colin pointed to a couple men. “Help us put him on this table.” He turned toward Brodie. “We’ll carry him to the doc’s place on the table.”

“Someone get the sheriff,” one of the men they’d played cards with yelled.

“He and most of his deputies are gone, trailing some bank robbers. You may be able to find someone at the jail.” The bartender watched as one of the men took off to find a deputy, then walked around the bar, helping them lift the table and carry it down the street.

“Careful, now,” the doctor warned. Too wide to make it through the clinic door, they set the table down outside, lifted Quinn, and carried him the rest of the way. “Put him here.” He indicated a bed in the back, then shooed everyone away, including Colin and Brodie, who took a few steps away and crossed their arms.

“We won’t get in your way, Doc,” Colin answered the look of frustration on the doctor’s face.

“Either of you have any medical training?” He started removing Quinn’s clothes, needing to get started before he lost any more blood.

“We’ve tended men who’ve been injured at our ranch. Nothing like this, though.” Colin planted his feet shoulder width apart, having no intention of leaving Quinn with a doctor he knew nothing about. Watching every move, he winced at the sight of two bullet holes—one in his left shoulder, one a little lower.

Cursing, Brodie took a step forward. “How can we help?”

Without looking up, the doctor nodded over his shoulder. “Hot water, towels, bandages, and alcohol…in the cupboard.” He looked at Colin. “Help me get his shirt off and remove his boots.”

The doctor worked for over an hour removing two bullets, cleaning the wounds, and stitching, Colin and Brodie assisting with whatever he asked. His wife, who usually acted as his assistant, had fallen ill with a stomach ailment. Their help had been crucial. The blessing had come when Quinn didn’t regain consciousness the entire time.

Infection loomed as the biggest threat. The doctor told them if he made it through the next few days, Quinn had a good chance of recovering.

Colin wanted to let Sarah know what happened, needing the comfort he knew she’d provide. By the time the doctor finished, it was well past midnight, so he settled for falling asleep in the small waiting area, Brodie snoring next to him.

“What happened?” Wes asked the two men he’d hired to send a warning to MacLaren. Their job had been to scare him, soften him up for the talk Wes planned. The nervous twitch on the face of one and the way the second shuffled his feet signaled their failure.

“We had a problem, but it’s handled. No need to worry.” The smug voice of the one with the twitch did nothing to diminish Wes’s concerns.

“Did you scare him the way I asked?”

“We did more than that. Two of them walked outside, leaving the third playing cards. We called him out for cheating. When he went for his gun, we put a couple slugs in him. That’ll scare MacLaren better than any words could.”

Wes paced around the desk, his face devoid of expression, other than the deep red color. He didn’t betray his feelings as he planted his feet in front of the man, then grabbed the front of his shirt.

“He pulled his gun on you?”

“Truth is, boss, we drew first and before he could react, I fired.” The man licked his parched lips, recognizing the rage on Wes’s face.

“You fool. That’s
not
what I ordered you to do.” Even though his voice stayed low, it hissed with anger. “He needed to fear we’d do something to one of his cousins, believe they were in danger—not kill anyone.” Without warning, he let go, landing a blow to the man’s jaw, watching as he clutched his face, then fell to the ground. Not finished, Wes repeatedly kicked him until Walt and the other man hauled him back.

“Enough, Wes. You’ll kill him.” Walt tightened his grip when he tried to shake free.

“Maybe I
want
to kill him. Did you hear what they did?”

“Yeah, I did. I’ll ride into town, find out if he’s still alive.” Walt stared at Wes, then shifted his gaze to the other men. “You two, get back to your camp. Don’t go into town or ride back here until one of us comes for you.”

“What about the money you promised us?” The man held a handkerchief to his bloody face.

Never breaking his hold on Wes, Walt took a step forward. “I’ll forget you said that.
If
you get paid, it’ll be when you do the job right.” He waited until they scrambled away, heading toward their horses. “I doubt we’ll ever see them again.” Glaring at his longtime friend, Walt’s voice took on an urgent tone. “If they killed him, it’s the end of it. Do you hear me? You find another woman. Sarah MacGregor is not the only female in River City. Hell, I don’t know what’s so attractive about her that you’re going to all this trouble.”

“Sometimes, Walt, I don’t believe you have anything useful between your ears. Her father owns a ranch almost as large as ours. Combining the two would give us the biggest spread south of Salem.” And there it was. The main reason he wanted her. But there was one other reason.

“And you’re willing to kill a man to get to MacGregor’s land? Hell, until he’s dead in the ground, the man has no intention of letting you take what he’s built.”

Wes hesitated a moment. “I didn’t order a
killing
. They were to scare MacLaren, nothing more. Sarah isn’t like any woman I’ve ever known. Not only is she beautiful and honest, she’s good and pure. She’s the kind of woman I need to keep me away from Rhoda.”

“Damn, Wes. Is that what this is about? You want some woman to save you, change your ways? If it is, I can tell you right now it isn’t going to work.” Walt held on to the disbelief he felt, not wanting to rile Wes further.

“And why the hell not?”

“’Cause you’ve got ways about you no woman can change. A woman like her will expect you to be faithful, and we both know you’ll never be completely free of Rhoda. That woman’s got her claws in you something fierce. You listen to me. If you don’t find a way to stop seeing her for good, your pa’s gonna learn of it, and he’ll kill you.”

“I’ve already stopped. She doesn’t like it, thinks she can change my mind, but she won’t. I’m finished with Rhoda. That’s why it’s so important I marry Sarah.” Wes slammed his hat down on his head. “Let’s get back to the ranch, then you can ride to town. We’ve got to know what happened with MacLaren. I’ve waited long enough to speak with Dougal about changing Sarah’s mind.”

A cold chill washed over Walt. He’d never seen Wes get this serious about a woman. His friend didn’t know how to lose or let another man get what he figured belonged to him. By the look in his eyes, Wes had already convinced himself she’d be his and no one else’s.