Gunpowder Tea (The Brides Of Last Chance Ranch Series) (30 page)

After Michael left, she made a valiant but fruitless attempt to ignore Taggert. Accepting defeat, she scanned the crowd and spotted
him in deep conversation with the banker. Both men looked serious and she wished she could hear what they were talking about.

Aunt Bessie sidled up to her side. “I’m so glad you could make it, dearie.”

“So am I.” Annie drew her gaze away from the two men and checked out the display of aprons, embroidered linens, and bonnets for sale at one of the booths. “How are you?”

“Busy.” Aunt Bessie ran her hand over a quilt. “Now that the telephone has reached the ranch, I hardly have a moment to myself.”

Annie frowned. “But Miss Walker refuses to use the phone.”

Aunt Bessie rolled her eyes. “The ranch hands more than make up for it.”

“Really? I wouldn’t think they’d have that many calls to make.”

“You’d be surprised. That new man, Branch, is always calling the bank. Doesn’t it seem strange that a cowhand would have so much financial business to discuss? And what they discuss never makes sense. It’s like they’re talking in a foreign language. Not that I listen in, of course.”

“Of course not,” Annie said politely.

“Then of course there’s Stretch. He calls twice a day to ask if Miss Winston has a phone yet. Then O.T. is always calling Green’s to see if some order has arrived.”

“Sounds like the town’s going to have to hire a second hello girl,” Annie said.

“They’ve already talked about hiring Charity.” Not even Aunt Bessie’s heavy-handed face paint could hide her disapproval. “What an annoying girl.” She pointed to the object of Michael’s affection. Every last suitor seemed to be mesmerized by the girl, Michael most of all.

“She looks like a very nice person,” Annie said.

“Maybe so,” Aunt Bessie muttered, “but she hasn’t got a brain in that head of hers. I’d sooner spend my days with a dumb mule.”

It appeared that Michael had good reason to worry about his aunt’s opinion. Annie picked up a dime novel, which earned Aunt Bessie’s approving nod. The title of the book was
Cactus
Joe: Master
of Disguise.

“That was written by my nephew’s wife.”

“Oh yes, I met her at church. Is she here?”

“Yes, but she doesn’t plan to stay long because of the heat.” Aunt Bessie pantomimed a rounded belly with her hand. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to sign it for you.” She chose a book from the stack. “This one is better,” she said in a hushed tone. She shoved it into Annie’s hand. The title read
Miss
Hattie’s Dilemma
.

“That’s the one I told you was banned in Boston.” Aunt Bessie fanned her face with her hand and Annie laughed.

Annie reached into her purse for her money. “I guess that explains why it’s so popular. I’ve seen it in the most unexpected places.” The memory of the cave and Taggert’s kiss brought a flush to her already heated face.

“Oh dear, I made you blush, but don’t worry. It’s not
that
bad. It’s just very romantic.”

“I look forward to reading it,” Annie said, paying the woman behind the counter.

“Oh, there’s that nice-looking man again.” She pointed to Taggert. “The one who’s always calling the bank. Do you think I could interest him in Miss Chase?”

“The one who hasn’t got a brain in her head?” Annie asked.

Aunt Bessie didn’t look the least bit chagrined. Instead she turned her gaze on her nephew in the distance and frowned. “I’ve got to do something to get her away from Michael.”

“I don’t think Branch plans on staying in Cactus Patch for very long,” Annie said, surprised by the sudden surge of emotion that rushed through her upon thinking of Taggert with another woman. Not jealousy. It couldn’t be jealousy.
God, please don’t let it be jealousy,
because that would mean
. . .

Michael had managed to pull the young woman away from the others and the expression on Aunt Bessie’s face looked like a storm cloud. “What on earth does Michael see in the girl?”

“Michael said she reads the stories he writes,” Annie said. “That seems to mean a lot to him.”

“
Harrumph
. I didn’t even know she could read.”

“It would seem like the two of you have a lot in common. You didn’t know she could read and she doesn’t know what a kind, charitable woman you are.”

Aunt Bessie scoffed. “Like I said, hasn’t got a brain in her head.”

Annie sighed. Michael had his work cut out for him. She tucked her newly purchased book in her purse, excused herself, and made a beeline to the lemonade stand where Taggert had just purchased a drink.

She armored herself with an air of professionalism, but he immediately disarmed her with his smile. “Having a good time?”

She fought for composure. “Not as good as you’re having.”

He turned to the youth in the booth and tossed a coin on the counter. “Pour one for the lady.”

The youth filled a glass with lemonade and handed it to Annie.

“Thank you.” She took a sip of the cool, sweet beverage. They moved from the booth and away from the music where they could talk.

She sensed his disquiet. “Find out anything?”

Troubled eyes met hers. “There was another bank robbery.”

She stiffened. “When?”

“Day before yesterday. Stackman and I decided to keep it quiet for now.”

Thursday.
“What do you know? Lightning does strike twice,” she said. “Any ideas?”

“A couple.” He took a sip of his beverage. “Ladies first.”

“Always a gentleman.” She purposely kept him waiting while she took a long drink. “Sorry, I can’t help you. I left the ranch early that morning.” Now that Miss Walker was on crutches, Annie was expected to learn ranching. “Ruckus and I repaired fences and checked the water on the north boundary.”

“See anyone else while you were out there?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No one.” She waited and when he failed to volunteer any information, she inclined her head. “Your turn.”

“I saw you talking to Michael.”

Knowing he’d been watching her made her feel all tingly inside.

“I think it’s him,” he continued. “Do you?”

Okay, so he hadn’t been watching her; Michael was his object of interest.

“No!”

Her emphatic response made him draw back. “Me either.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “Still, we can’t discount him completely. He wasn’t at morning prayer that day, nor did he show up for work until noon.”

Michael was definitely not an early bird, but for good reason. According to Ruckus, if Michael wasn’t with Charity, he stayed up late writing. She started to explain Michael’s absence but a nearby group of youths playing mumblety-peg yelled out, drowning her voice. Another boy stepped forward to take his turn throwing the knife and the group fell silent.

“Michael has taken a fancy to that young woman over there in
blue.” Annie pointed to one of the game booths where Michael and Charity were taking turns tossing rings onto milk bottles. “I can assure you that robbing banks has never crossed his mind.”

“Is that the opinion of a private eye or simply women’s intuition?” he asked, and the intensity in his eyes made her blush.

“Both.”

He cleared his voice and looked away as if the shared moment had been as powerful for him as it was for her. “And I don’t remember seeing Stretch.”

“Stretch drove into town that day for supplies.” She remembered distinctly because he mailed a letter for her. “He likes to get an early start.”

He seemed to weigh her words. “Stretch just happened to be in town during both bank robberies. He’s in town almost as much as Michael. And don’t forget, the day I was attacked, Stretch’s horse appeared to have been ridden.”

Her gaze drifted over to where Stretch danced with a short red-headed woman. Miss Winston, no doubt. The tall ranch hand was practically doubled over to accommodate their differences in height. Was he the one? She fervently hoped not, but she couldn’t allow personal feelings to interfere with an investigation.

“Do you think it’s Stretch?” she asked.

“He did admit to robbing a bank.”

“
Accidentally
robbing a bank.” She still couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she’d missed something. “The time element bothers me. The robberies are getting closer together.”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing.” Taggert thought for a moment. “He now seems more interested in robbing banks than trains and stages, which means he’s probably working alone.”

“It seems like our guy is under some sort of pressure and he’s
starting to take risks.” She took a sip of lemonade. “Do you think all that talk about a Wells Fargo detective being in town has him running scared?”

“If that’s true, he has a funny way of showing it. If I was scared I wouldn’t be robbing banks. I’d lay low.”

What Taggert said made sense.

He finished his lemonade and set his empty glass on a tray. “Stackman is meeting me tomorrow at the bank so I can have a look around.”

“I’ll be there too,” she said, though she doubted they’d find anything.

His brows drew together. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll . . . let you know if I uncover any clues.”

“How very thoughtful of you.” She had no intention of being shut out. “But if you don’t mind, I prefer to do my own investigating.”

She set her glass down on the counter and turned to leave. He stopped her with a hand to her arm.

His eyes caught hers and held. “Annie—”

A high-pitched scream pierced the air and a woman’s voice yelled, “Help! We need a doctor.”

The music stopped and a hushed silence followed as all eyes turned to stare at the home goods booth where a matronly woman frantically waved her arms.

Dr. Fairbanks rushed to the woman’s side and dropped to his knees. That’s when Annie saw the banker, Mr. Stackman, lying facedown on the ground.

Chapter 26

Running a shady business is no way to live a sunny life.

P
oison!” Miss Walker’s face turned almost as gray as her hair. “You can’t be serious. Is Robert all right?”

Annie sat on the sofa. “He’s at the dispensary, but he’s going to be fine. Fortunately he received excellent medical care.” Thank God the doctor was nearby, saving precious time.

She took hold of Miss Walker’s hands. The palms were calloused, the nails square cut, and the skin brown as old leather and almost as tough.

“Was it something he ate? I told him not to eat any beef but mine.” Miss Walker’s voice held its usual sharp edge and only the tremor and coldness of her hands gave her away.

“It wasn’t beef.” Annie hesitated. “Dr. Fairbanks believes it was arsenic.”

“Arsenic!” Miss Walker pulled her hands away. “That means it was no accident.”

Annie nodded. “I’m afraid that’s exactly what it means.”

Miss Walker made a funny choking sound. “But who in heaven’s name would want to poison Robert?”

It was a good question and Annie had no answer. Never had she felt so inadequate. “We don’t know, but the marshal is doing everything possible to find out.”

Miss Walker sniffed. “That old tin badge couldn’t catch a wolf in a chicken coop.” She would never admit it but she was obviously shaken. Still, Annie had a job to do and there was no time to waste.

“Does Mr. Stackman have any enemies?”

“Of course he has enemies,” Miss Walker snapped with an impatient wave. “He’s a banker.”

Annie debated on how little or how much to say. “I wonder if there’s a connection between what happened to Mr. Stackman and what’s been happening on the ranch.”

Miss Walker’s thin brows rose. “Certainly you don’t mean the fire and poisoned water?”

“I do. And don’t forget someone attacked Mr. Branch.” She made no mention of the dead Wells Fargo detective. “Everything that’s happened recently, including Mr. Stackman’s poisoning, could be the work of a single person.”

“But that makes no sense,” Miss Walker sputtered. “Robert has no connection to the ranch.”

“Except through you,” Annie said. “Someone may be trying to get to you through him.”

The older woman seemed to shrink before Annie’s eyes, as if someone had taken the stuffing out of her. “Why would anyone want to do such a thing?”

“I don’t know.” That very question had been burning in Annie’s mind since Robert collapsed. She and Taggert had discussed it at great length while waiting for the doctor to finish examining the banker. “I have a feeling that once we figure it out we’ll have the answer to all our questions.”

“Take me to him.” Miss Walker reached for her crutches but Annie stayed her.

“There’s nothing you can do for him. He’s in good hands and he’s resting.” She searched for something to say, for something to do that would put Miss Walker’s mind at ease.

“Would you . . . like to pray with me?”

Miss Walker didn’t say anything, but she didn’t resist when Annie took her hands a second time. “God the Father, please comfort and heal Mr. Stackman . . .”

“And tell Him to put an end to all the nonsense that’s been going on at the ranch,” Miss Walker interjected.

Annie peered at Miss Walker through lowered lashes. “Would you like to tell God that yourself?”

“Why would I want to do that? You’re doing just fine.” She clamped her mouth shut. After a moment she added, “What are you waiting for? Go on, tell Him.”

Annie resumed her prayer. “And please, God, help”—she almost said
me
—“the marshal catch the . . . culprit who’s been causing all the trouble at the ranch.”

“And tell Him to get on the stick.”

Annie opened her mouth to say something but changed her mind. Talking to God through a third person was better than not talking to Him at all. She finished her prayer and released the older woman’s hands.

Miss Walker sank back, eyes closed. She claimed that nothing meant as much to her as the ranch, but Annie had seen beyond the rigid exterior. The poisoned cattle and fire hardly fazed her, but she still grieved the loss of her daughter and was clearly shaken by her banker friend’s near brush with death.

“If anything happens to Robert . . .” Miss Walker didn’t finish; it wasn’t necessary.

“I’ll have Able make us some tea,” Annie said, standing.