High Desert Haven (The Shepherd's Heart) (25 page)

Rocky quickly touched her elbow and spoke before she could embarrass the boy. “Well now, that’s just not the way things work, Trev. And besides, we shouldn’t make plans about the lady as though she isn’t even present. If we act like that, Miss Snyder won’t have either one of us.” He leveled a look at the little boy. “What do you think? Think maybe we should apologize?”

Trevor’s face sank and he looked down at his feet, shuffling them back and forth. “You first,” he mumbled.

Rocky glanced at Victoria, who was giving him a look that warned him not to make too much of this in front of the boy. “Ria, I’m sorry.”

Trevor glanced up at her through his bangs. “Sorry.”

She bent at the waist and pulled the little imp into a one-armed hug. “You’re forgiven. Now run along and get the things Ms. Johnston needs and don’t dawdle on the way back. I need to speak to Mr. Jordan for a moment.”

The relief on Trevor’s face was palpable. He turned and started hurriedly for the mercantile but had only gone a couple of steps before he spun back in their direction. “Aren’t ya gonna forgive Mr. Jordan?”

Ria’s mouth quirked as she swung her eyes to Rocky’s face. “You’re forgiven, Mr. Jordan.”

Rocky swept off his hat in a deep bow. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Trevor swung sparkling eyes to Rocky. “She must like me better. She gave
me
a hug!”

Rocky threw back his head and laughed as Victoria once again used her delivery basket as a weapon. The basket connected solidly with Trevor’s backside even as he tried to scamper out of the way.

“Go!” she laughed, her green eyes sparkling with delight. “I’ll deal with you later.”

Trevor jauntily strode down the sidewalk, turning to wave at them before he disappeared into the mercantile with his list from Ms. Hannah Johnston.

Victoria turned back to Rocky, noting once again how handsome he was when he smiled, as he was doing now. He really was a lot of fun and all the children at the orphanage adored him. He stopped by often to help Ms. Hannah with the constant repairs that needed to be made to the old building that housed the precious orphans.

Victoria often found herself wondering if Rocky knew the real reason she had dated his brother and his best friend. Her mouth turned up at the corner. No, he wouldn’t know. He was much too humble to suspect that she’d had her eye on him for years. During school she’d drawn the interest of several boys, but never Rocky. She had tried in an untold number of ways to get his attention but he’d always treated her like she was a little sister. She’d agreed to see Skyler in hopes that if she dated his brother, she might get his attention. It hadn’t worked; neither had her relationship with his best friend, Cade Bennett. She had become fast friends with both Sky and Cade, but it hadn’t gotten her any closer to a relationship with Rocky. She really liked both Sky and Cade, but it had always been Rocky she’d had her eye on.

Lately though, she had begun to realize that she would have to settle for just being his friend. He wasn’t interested in her, and she was finally learning to deal with it. Wasn’t she? Then again maybe one day she would get up the courage to ask
him
to dinner. She giggled at the unconventional thought.

“Ria?” Rocky’s voice penetrated her thoughts, sounding more than a little worried.

She came out of her reverie and realized that she had been staring at him with a silly smile throughout her contemplation of their relationship. Her face blazed hot, and she silently berated herself for an idiot. She was always blushing like a school girl when Rocky was around.

Her mind scrambled for something coherent to say. What had she needed to talk to him about? Oh yes. Her words tumbled out before she could make an even bigger fool of herself. “Rocky, the roof at the orphanage is leaking badly with all this rain we’ve been having lately, and Hannah wondered if you could find time on your next day off to come by and fix it?”

He shrugged. “Sure.” But his bewildered gaze was almost more than her composure could stand. He obviously couldn’t figure out why she’d been giggling about the orphanage roof leaking. She felt another giggle coming on and quickly turned away so he wouldn’t suspect.

Waving over her shoulder she said, “Thanks,” and moved off quickly before he came to the conclusion that she had totally lost all her senses.

At the corner of the building she cast one more glance over her shoulder. He was standing in the same spot she had left him, but he was talking to the telegraph operator, Mr. Sinclair. As he frowned down at the telegram in his hands, he unconsciously reached to touch the badge on his chest.

So, he was being summoned for something. Victoria sighed as she thought of her father. Yes there was definitely one drawback to Rocky Jordan. One very big drawback.

Jason lay back on the cot, hands clasped behind his head, and stared at the ceiling of the jailhouse. His booted feet, crossed at the ankles, hung over the end of the too-short bed. Today was Sunday. Nicki, Ron, and Conner would be coming into town for services at the little church. Maybe they would stop by with some hopeful news, because as things stood, they did not look good for him.

The sheriff busily scratched his pen across some forms at the desk only a couple of feet away. The only thing separating them was the wall of metal bars. Jason had slept the night through in exhaustion, not having slept since before he discovered the horses, and now found he was thinking a little more clearly.

His thoughts turned to the fire at the Jeffries’ place. Whoever had set it had a connection to the man he had apprehended.

Someone had crashed through the brush just yards from him that night, then gone straight to his prisoner and cut him free. He had seen the tracks with his own eyes and recognized them. Each man has his own way of walking, standing, turning, and striding. If a man’s shoe was cracked along the sole, it showed in his tracks. If it was worn more on one side or the other, that showed, too. There were any number of ways of telling one man’s footprints from another, and Jason had learned, early on, working for his uncle in Shilo, that it was wise to take note of and remember everyone’s footprints. You never knew when the knowledge might come in handy. And the tracks left in back of the Jeffries cabin were the same tracks left by the man who had shot at Nicki on his first day.

Had he recognized them as William’s, he would not have been surprised, but William’s pricey hand-tooled boots had a very distinct deep heel print with the outside edges on both feet worn down just a little. Whoever had made the tracks he had followed from the cabin back into the woods had been wearing a worn-at-heel pair of boots that had obviously seen better days.

But if a man were smart and planned to commit a crime, he might think to put on a pair of shoes that he didn’t normally wear. Jason sighed. He would have to find that old pair of boots and their owner to prove who had been at that cabin, and who had shot at him and Nicki. A near impossible task.

His next thought wasn’t any more comforting than the last. He had told the sheriff about his captive, even risked telling him about the horses, but the lawman hadn’t believed him. He’d said he would check into it, but so far he hadn’t been in any hurry. There were no tracks at the scene to back up his story, and the sheriff thought he was just trying to give himself an alibi.

That left another question. Who had gone back and cleaned up the evidence? They had to have done a pretty thorough job because the sheriff was an observant man. Jason snorted at the thought, tossing the man a glance.
Not observant enough, or he’d know I wasn’t guilty
. There had to be something at the scene that proved he hadn’t been the only one there. Jason didn’t really blame the sheriff for suspecting him. After all, he had only been in the area for a few days. A stranger was always the first suspect when a crime was committed.

The door to the outer office opened, and Jason swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting up to see who had just entered. Sheriff Watts looked up from his paperwork.

It was Nicki and Ron.

Jason’s pulse jumped. Had she seen reason and come to apologize for doubting him?

Nicki held a basket in her hands, her worried dark eyes immediately searching him out. But it was Ron that his eyes fixed on. The man’s face showed no emotion whatsoever. Had they found the horses?

Jason stepped forward, gripping the metal bars in his hands. “Morning.”

Ron nodded. Nicki did too, swallowing as she did so.

The sheriff stood, reaching his hand out to each of them. “Mornin’,” he echoed Jason’s greeting. “What can I be doin’ fer ya?”

Nicki lifted the basket slightly. “I’ve brought Mr. Jordan some breakfast, if that’s all right.”

Jason’s mouth watered. He hadn’t eaten since just after the funeral yesterday.

Sheriff Watts rubbed a hand across his cheek. Eyeing the basket, he extended his hand for it. Nicki gave it to him, and Jason wanted to grin at the anger he saw darken her eyes as the sheriff began to methodically search it, even going to the extent of breaking her muffins in half and then again into quarters.

She lifted her chin. “Sheriff, I assure you that if I planned to try and help Mr. Jordan escape from jail, it wouldn’t be by hiding something so small that he might choke on it while eating.” She pointedly looked at the small pieces he had broken apart.

The sheriff only looked at her and shoved his finger into the scrambled eggs, stirring them around. Nicki crossed her arms, and Jason heard her mutter something in Spanish. This time he couldn’t keep the smile from his face. He might be facing a noose by the end of the week, but she was worried about his breakfast getting ruined. He liked that. It renewed the hope he’d lost when she’d sided with William the night before.

Sheriff Watts finally finished with his search and nodded that it was okay for her to give it to Jason. She snatched it from his desk with a glare that would have made a lesser man step back. Jason had to admire the sheriff for standing his ground. He quickly wiped the smirk from his face as she looked his way, but he could tell by the way she arched one slim, dark eyebrow that she had noticed it.

Behind her, Jason saw Ron step over to the sheriff and speak in low tones.

Then Sheriff Watts stepped toward the door and looked back at them. “I’m steppin’ out to talk to Ron. I won’t be more ’n a minute, so don’t try nothin’.”

Jason nodded and turned his attention back to Nicki as the two men walked out the door. “Thank you,” he said, as he accepted the basket she angled through the bars to him.

“Sí. De nada.”

She was speaking Spanish again, and it gave him pause. She only reverted to her native tongue when in highly emotional moments of anger, surprise or confusion.

“Nicki?” He waited until she looked him full in the face. “Are you all right?”

She gestured to the bars and then the room in general. “You are here, but you’re asking if
I’m
all right?”

He shrugged not knowing what to say to that. “Feeling any better?” He saw her cheeks tinge with a blush and suddenly he
knew
. His eyes dropped to her stomach and then snapped back to her face. He saw her eyes widen as she recognized he understood. He stepped closer. “Nick?”

She curled her lips together, looking down and away as she nodded slowly, her face grave.

He banged the heel of his hand against the bars in frustration. Nicki’s eyes jumped back to his face in surprise.

The sheriff opened the door and poked his head inside. “Everythin’ okay in here?”

“Everything is fine, Sheriff,” Nicki assured, but her eyes were still fastened to Jason’s.

He leaned heavily against the bars, his arms locked at the elbow, and took in her calm expression. She was pregnant! Pregnant! And someone wanted her off her ranch. Someone who was most likely guilty of murder—at least an accessory to one—and willing to go so far as to set fire to a house. He glanced at the floor.
Someone
…probably William. Even though the pieces didn’t fit, he couldn’t shake that suspicion. Hadn’t Ron said that a man who fit the description of his captive worked for William? He wanted to caution her once more about the man, yet he knew he dared not warn her away from William again.

He glanced over at the sheriff, who nodded and pulled the door shut, leaving them alone for a second time.

Fear and worry for her safety clenched a tight fist in his stomach as he turned back to study her. He chewed one side of his lower lip, trying to decide if there was a way he could caution her about William that wouldn’t send her into a fit of anger.

“I’m just fine,” she assured him, touching his hand where it clasped the bars separating them. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d found the horses?”

He wiped his mouth on his shoulder. Maybe this was his opening. “You won’t like my answer.”

“Try me.”

“I didn’t want you to tell William about them.”

She opened her mouth, and he hurried on before she could voice her irritation. “I think it would be better if you sold some of those horses quickly and paid off the loan before anyone knows you have the money to do so. And then I think you need to hire several hands that are good with a gun. You’re going to need them.”