Emmy (Gold Rush Brides Book 2) (19 page)

“That too,” Mason agreed. “I wish we could sit for a few hours to let Fred rest, but that leg needs tending to by a real sawbones. Let’s ride.”

The next couple days were a blur for Mason. After having Fred tended to by a doctor in Auburn, he’d transferred custody of the gang’s bodies to the mayor and one of Watson’s honest deputies. There would be a formal inquest, of course, but no one expected any trouble. Turned out that a couple reprobates in town were friendly with some of Kirby’s gang and, with a slight amount of pressure, they revealed that Kirby’s crew had hit coaches up and down gold country, maybe as many as a dozen. The mayor was genuinely relieved Kirby and the corrupt sheriff were dead and thanked Mason by offering to pay for a night’s lodging for everyone.

But he was eager to get back to Nevada City, claiming he’d been gone too long as it was. That was mostly true, but a part of him also wanted to avoid being alone with Emmy. He couldn’t seem to control his emotions around her, and a good lawman needed to be in control. She held some kind of strange power over him that he couldn’t identify or shake, so the best course of action was to stay away.

So they rode out of town shortly after arriving — Fred stayed on to heal up a bit — gnawing on hard jerky and stale biscuits. The sun was barely over the treetops.

The ride to Auburn had taken days, mostly because they were crisscrossing their tracks, hunting for Kirby, but the ride back to Nevada City was made in a long, hard day. After days of grueling riding, and a rough night without sleep, everyone was barely upright in the saddle by the time they rode into town. It was good to be home.

The group stopped in front of Bailey House and Mason arranged a room for Emmy with Mr. Portnoy for a couple of nights. “We’ll take Blaze back to the livery and pay the boy for you, too,” he told her when he came back out, Mr. Portnoy trotting behind him. “Least we can do after you helped us take down those killers.”

The poor thing looked dazed. Covered in the grime of the trail, much of it caked in the remnants of bear fat, she looked like a gold digger who’d been at the diggins a little too long. She swayed in the saddle, her bleary eyes barely able to meet his. It was all he could to not to take her in his arms and carry her to a bed for a well-earned sleep. Of course that would be wildly inappropriate but it didn’t stop him from thinking it.

Instead, he offered to help her off Blaze. His skin tingled as her hand slid into his, just as it always did. Not even extreme exhaustion could counteract the effect she had on him. Instinctively, his fingers grasped hers a bit tighter than necessary, even though he hadn’t meant to. Yet another example of how he wasn’t in complete control of himself in her presence.
 

He was still contrite over his shameful behavior in the cabin, kissing her so roughly. She was a lady, even though she didn’t exactly look it at the moment, and deserved to be treated like one. He was rather surprised that she hadn’t hauled off and slapped him afterward, but he’d been so happy in that moment. Kirby was dead and she was leaning over him, looking so fetching and obviously worried about him. It felt right at the time, and only later did he regret acting so rashly. Not because he didn’t like the kiss, but because she must think him a cad.

It wouldn’t do to linger on such thoughts. Besides, the only thing he could focus on at that moment was her hand in his. As she slid down off Blaze’s saddle, her knees buckled from exhaustion. He caught her frail body easily, pulling her upright and against him for support.
 

He was overcome by her presence, her warmth, her heady scent. It took every last bit of strength he had not to wrap his arms around her, but he couldn’t resist breathing her in. Still unsteady on her feet, she leaned into him for support and he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. Her face was pressed against his chest and there was no way she couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest.
 

With a supreme effort, he pushed her away from him with stiff arms. He knew her reputation was the most important thing to her and he didn’t want Mr. Portnoy to get any ideas about them.
 

“Can you stand, Miss Gibson? Do you feel faint? Should we call for the doctor?”

She blinked up at him in a daze but managed a quick head shake. The poor thing was exhausted. “No…I’m fine.”

“That’s good to hear,” he said as he grabbed Blaze’s reins and mounted his own horse. He needed to get busy or he might lose control of himself again. “The Portnoys will see to your needs until the next stage heads to San Francisco day after tomorrow.”

“Day after…? But I don’t have money—“

Mr. Portnoy interrupted her. “Oh, the Sheriff has taken care of everything, Miss Gibson. He told me how courageous you were in leading them to that horrible man’s hide-out. It’s too bad you won’t be staying on here in Nevada City because you’d be quite celebrated for your bravery.”

Mason felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, as if someone was watching him. Turning in his saddle, he was faced with the disappointed frowns of Jake and David. It wasn’t lost on him that all three of his men were fond of Emmy, but more than that, they always seemed to be exchanging knowing glances when they thought he couldn’t see them.

Ignoring them, he gave her a small wave and rode off to the livery to return Blaze, and then back to his small house on Winter Street to rest up and try to forget about the way his gut ached whenever he thought about Emmy leaving town. He should be relieved at stopping a bunch of marauding road agents and finally bringing Marie’s killers to justice, but the victory seemed hollow for some reason.

The next day was spent writing up reports, sending messages to various authorities and collecting a hefty reward from the express company for taking down the crew that had been robbing them blind. The bag of gold coins was sitting heavy in the middle of his desk when Jake and David strolled in. They both looked refreshed after a good night’s sleep and a hot bath.

“What’s that, Sheriff?” Jake asked.

“Reward money from the express folks.” His tone didn’t invite comment from them but he got some anyway.

“You’re gonna give Miss Emmy her fair share ain’t ya, Sheriff?”
 

“Yeah, if’n it weren’t for her, you’d be dead,” added David, he and Jake finally agreeing on something.

Mason glared up at his deputies. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to give her the money, he simply didn’t want to see Emmy again, if he didn’t have to. Once she was gone, he could settle himself back into a routine and he was sure he would forget she ever came into his life.

Probably.

“I know, I know, what do you think I am? But,” he added, glancing at the wall clock, “it’s getting late. Her stage doesn’t leave till noon tomorrow, so I’ll drop it off to her at the station.”
 

If he had to see her again, at least it wouldn’t be for very long so there wouldn’t be time to act foolish in front of her. The deputies exchanged another of their irksome glances and moseyed back outside to leave him with his thoughts…and probably to gossip about him.

What did they expect him to do? It wasn’t like Emmy wanted to stay. She’d made as much clear on the ride back, talking about how her friends in San Francisco would help her get back on her feet. Jealousy gnawed at him a little that she didn’t think
he
would help her get set up in Nevada City, but her mind was made up. She was leaving town, never to return.
 

It was probably for the best. A lawman like him shouldn’t have a family in the first place. He’d failed to protect the one he had — or nearly had — so what made him think he could protect another one? No, he was better off alone. It would be easier to do his job and harder for his enemies to find a weakness in him.

But when he saw her waiting at the station the next day, he couldn’t for the life of him remember any of those things. All he saw was the stunning creature who had first stormed into his office, yellow curls framing porcelain skin that was almost back to its pre-poison oak perfection, enormous blue eyes that twinkled at those surrounding her — and there was quite a crowd — and a smile that could break a man’s heart.
 

She might look like the same woman on the outside, including the same butter-colored dress she’d been wearing the morning of her wedding, but he knew she was different on the inside. The way she interacted with her new friends proved it. Gone was the haughty mollycoddled dandyess who expected everyone to do her bidding. In her place stood a confident woman who could handle herself.
 

It made her all the more attractive, and Mason nearly spun on his heel because of it. How on earth was he supposed let her go? Then she caught his eye and her smile softened. He had to press on, as hard as it might be.
 

“Miss Gibson,” he said, the crowd parting to let him through. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jake and David grinning at him. “I wanted to say goodbye and to give you this reward on behalf of the express company. Without you, we might never have learned Roy Kirby’s true identity or where he might be hiding out.”

 
Blinking, she looked down at the bag he held out. Her smile faltered as she reached for it, her fingers burning trails of fire across his palms. “T-Thank you, Sheriff Wilder.”

“It should help you get set up in San Francisco. And, um, on a personal note,” he added quietly, very aware that about a dozen people were listening to every word. “I’d like to thank you for saving my life. You were every bit as brave as my finest deputy.”

Her lips curled upward in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say there was sadness there. He had no idea how long he stood there, dumbly staring down at her. It felt like an eternity yet wasn’t nearly long enough, when someone cleared his throat, drawing their attention.

“I reckon that would be me?” Fred was hobbling his way through the crowd, a bandage wrapped around his head and a crutch under one arm. Everyone erupted in laughter, breaking the tension between Mason and Emmy. Folks slapped Fred on the back, welcoming him home, as he approached.
 

“Fred!” Emmy cried. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“Aw, hang it all. I weren’t gonna let ya leave before tellin’ ya how I feel. Only a scalawag would do such a thing.” He shot a dark look at Mason as he edged between them.

“It was a real honor knowin’ ya, Miss Emmy. I shore do wish you weren’t leavin’ us but I reckon, unless someone says different, you don’t got much of a reason to stay. Old codgers like me ain’t enough. I was hoping you’d find that reason but sometimes good reasons are as stubborn as mules and half as smart.”

What was this old fool going on about now? Mason rolled his eyes at Fred’s nonsense, but didn’t fail to notice Emmy’s gaze flickering over at him.

“You’ll always have friends here in Nevada City, Miss Emmy. You come back anytime, y’hear?”

When Emmy flung herself into Fred’s arms, Mason wondered why she hadn’t hugged him. He’d just given her a bag of gold, after all. That deserved a hug as much as Fred’s silly words. He was still stewing over it when the stagecoach pulled up a moment later.

As men worked piling trunks and baggage on the roof, and express employees exchanged the contents of the strongbox, Emmy made the rounds of her new friends, saying goodbye, hugging some, shaking the hands of others. When she got to Mason, she smiled and stuck out her hand.
 

“Thank you for everything, Mason. I hope we meet again one day.”

Bitterness that he didn’t warrant an embrace gnawed at him. Grabbing her hand, he pumped it hard once and nodded. “Yup,” was all he could muster before turning away and stomping back toward his office.
 

~ * ~ * ~

Tears pricked at the back of Emmy’s eyes as the coach pulled away from the station. She made a show of leaning out the window to wave at everyone, but really she only wanted to see if Mason would turn back for one last look.
 

He didn’t.

How could he treat her so indifferently? She could accept that he wasn’t ready to love again after what happened to his wife, but he had to admit they’d at least become friends during their grand adventure. Even if he didn’t care for her romantically, surely she’d earned his respect out on the trail.
 

But instead, he’d dumped her at Mr. Portnoy’s hotel and never deigned to visit her again until minutes before she left town. For a moment in front of Bailey House, she thought he must have felt the same. He held her so tenderly when she stumbled getting off Blaze, and his heart was hammering like crazy under her ear, but he hadn’t so much as dropped in to check on her since.

 
Then when she saw him approaching the stagecoach station, she thought maybe he’d come to his senses and was going to ask her to stay. Or at least give her a proper goodbye. But he’d only come to give her the reward money. Oh, he’d put on a good show for the crowd but Emmy knew that’s all it was.

After Mason kissed her in Roy’s cabin, he’d gone to great lengths to avoid her, and that cut her like a knife. At first, she’d been excited that he cared for her but she soon understood that he’d simply been relieved to be alive and he might just as easily have kissed Jake. Still, it hurt deeper than she cared to admit that he hadn’t stayed to see her off.

Enough of that!
A new chapter in her life was about to begin, and she was eager to find out what would happen. She’d had no time to send word to Jack and Dell that she was on her way — Mason had seen to it that she was on the first stage out of town — but she had no doubt they would do whatever they could to help her find a situation. Maybe she could teach, or even help them with their paper. She wasn’t sure but the bag of gold in her lap would go a long way toward setting her up in San Francisco.
 

The man across from her, a puny, weasel-faced dandy, was staring at the bag in her hand. “That looks like a pretty big bag of gold for such a petite lady to protect all by herself,” he finally said. The other passengers looked between them at the implied threat, edging away as much as the tight space allowed.