Missy Meets the Marshal (Lone Star Love Book 2) (11 page)

"I don't think that's lawful, mister," Henry said nervously, looking around as Nathan picked the lock.

Henry was really beginning to grate on Nathan's nerves, but he couldn't very well kill him in the middle of town. He forced himself to sound agreeable. "Don't fret, Henry. Bounty hunters are allowed to do stuff like this. Didn't you know?"

"Oh, okay," Henry said, immediately set at ease upon hearing Nathan's bad excuse.

Nathan rolled his eyes, growing even more annoyed with the fool he'd managed to acquire as his temporary partner. Once inside, Nathan scanned the room. His eyes immediately settled on the one thing that seemed out of place, a letter in the middle of the floor.

"Fucking hell," Nathan cursed after reading it. He kicked the leg of a kitchen chair with such force that the wood cracked and the chair fell over on its side. "She's on the run again, and I reckon her pussy-whupped coot ain't far behind."

Nathan stalked out of the house and strode to Henry's shop where his horse stood tethered to a post. Henry struggled to keep up. "Wait for me, mister," Henry said. "I need to get a horse from the livery."

Nathan swung a leg over his mount and laughed. "You and your tallow will only slow me down. This is where our paths eventuate, Henry, and I can't say as I'm all that tore up about it."

Nathan spurred his horse into a gallop toward the path headed west, while Henry swore and hustled to the livery. He rented the largest horse in the stable and set out after Nathan, determined not to lose him. He wanted what was rightfully his, a share in the bounty.

As it turned out, Nathan's horse was so weary after traveling great distances for days that no amount of spurring could get her very far. She collapsed on the path several miles out of town. Nathan jumped out of the saddle just in time to avoid being crushed under her weight when she rolled to the side.

Nathan paced, spitting mad that his horse had turned to buzzard bait. Cursing, he headed back toward Porter on foot, intent on acquiring another unlucky horse and continuing his pursuit of Grover and Elizabeth. After walking for only a short time, he stopped and stared as a horse and rider headed toward him at a trot. He couldn't believe his luck when he noticed the agility and strength of the horse, who seemed to barely struggle under the bouncing blubber burdening her back.

Reaching to his side, Nathan drew his Remington. He pointed downrange at his target, cocked the hammer, took aim, and with one light squeeze of the trigger, shot Henry Martin between the eyes.

Chapter 10 - Dead by Sundown

The galloping hooves became louder as the horse and rider neared. Carter and Grover exchanged an uneasy look when they heard the hooves slow to a canter and then a trot. Grover placed a hand on his gun, ready to draw if the traveler followed them with ill intent and had seen them take cover. From where they hid behind the brush, they watched as the rider on the large horse came to a halt and observed the same small trail they'd just decided to ride. When the rider took off his black hat to scratch his head, Grover recognized him as Nathan Matthews. Before Grover could act on his discovery, Nathan spurred his already lathered horse into a gallop and continued west along the wide path.

"That was Nathan Matthews," Grover told Carter hastily as he mounted, shocked by what he'd seen and wondering how the jilted outlaw had managed to track Missy. "This changes things. Here's what we do. We split. You take the pig trail and search for Missy, and I follow Nathan in case I'm wrong and this path leads him straight to her. Even if it doesn't, it's about time he and I discussed matters using our talking irons."

Carter gathered his reins into his left hand. "You fixin' to use your gun in pursuit of permanent ends?"

Grover wrapped his bandanna around his neck and tied the knot with a determined yank. "Without a doubt. Mark my words.  One of Missy's husbands will be dead by sundown."

Carter said nothing in response and led his horse in the direction of the small trail.

"Carter," Grover said, causing his friend to look back over his shoulder. "Please find my wife, and when you do, take her to your ranch for safety. I'll meet you there."

Carter gave him a quick nod. "Don't worry about Missy. I'll take care of her when I find her. Get yourself back alive, my friend."

The men parted ways. Carter headed onto the trail at a walk to allow his graceful gelding to pick his footing between the heavy brush, and Grover galloped his horse in pursuit of Nathan.

Just when Carter began to lose hope of finding Missy, his attention to his surroundings paid off and his eyes fell on crushed goosegrass to the side the trail. Squinting, he observed a recently trampled path through the grass. Carter dismounted and tied his horse to a tree, knowing he could trail more quietly and track better by foot. He followed the beaten brush until he reached a clearing. There he stopped and took in the sight with a sigh of relief and thrill of success. A thin woman sat hunched on a fallen log, a light-colored shawl wrapped around her shaking shoulders.

Sorry that he was about to scare the living daylights out of her, but unwilling to give her any chance to run or yell, Carter sneaked up behind her. In one fell movement, he grabbed her clear off the log and clasped a hand firmly over her mouth. His other arm held her torso in an iron grip against him. She flailed her arms and legs and yelled against his hand.

"It's okay, settle down. My name is Carter. I'm a friend of your husband."

She continued to struggle and yell muffled words against his hand.

"Stop twitching about and I'll let you speak."

Her limbs settled into a limp surrender, and she trembled all over.

"If I remove my hand from your mouth, are you going to scream and call attention to yourself?"

"Nuh," was her muffled response, along with an attempt to shake her head.

Carter loosened his hand.

"Which one?" she said fearfully.

Carter's arm remained around her. "What do you mean, which one?"

"Which of my husbands is your friend!" she shrieked, and Carter clamped his hand over her mouth again.

Realizing the way he introduced himself lacked any cause for relief, he apologized. "I'm sorry, Missy. I'm Grover's friend." When he felt her relax, he let her go and turned her around to face him. “Listen to me now. Grover says you’re to come with me, and that’s what you’ll be doing. He’s going to meet us at my ranch after taking care of something. Will you be giving me any trouble?”

"No," she said in resignation. She looked down at her shoes. Carter noticed she'd torn her dress clear up the skirt to allow her to ride astride in her escape.

"I hope not. You're in danger. Nathan's only a few miles away, and Grover wants you clear out of here. If you need any more motivation to come along peaceably, your baby is at the ranch, and she needs her mother, just like Grover needs his wife."

Missy cried at hearing those words. Carter put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a quick shake. "Now's not the time for tears. Cowboy up. It's nearly dusk. We have to get off the pig trail before dark so we don't get lost." He led Missy to the horse she'd taken from the livery. He grabbed the saddle that rested against a tree and quickly cinched it to the mare. He mounted. Taking Missy's arm, he helped her up, and she settled behind him. "My mount is by the trail," he explained, and urged the horse forward.

"What's Grover taking care of?" she asked in a shaking voice. Carter didn't answer, which led Missy to her own correct conclusion. "He's going after Nathan, isn't he?" Carter didn't respond to that either, and Missy buried her head in his back and cried. "I'll never forgive myself if something happens to him."

Carter took pity. He understood her motivation for running away and could see how she must have arrived at the conclusion that it was the right thing to do for the sake of Grover and her daughter. It was also clear to him that she had no real understanding of what it meant to be married to a man who would rather die than see harm come to his wife.

Carter believed it was a man's duty to protect his wife from physical danger, not the other way around, and he knew his friend felt the same way. By running, she hadn't allowed her husband to protect her. If Grover made it back alive, she would be meeting a very different side of her husband—the hard, fearsome lawman who made grown men shake in their boots, the marshal who delivered justice without leniency to those deserving of punishment.

When they arrived at the slim trail and were each mounted on their respective horses, they walked them at a quick clip to the main path before dark befell them. Once on the larger path, they trotted east toward Carter's ranch.

"We'll hope for the best, Missy, but you should know something. If Grover loses his life at Nathan's hand, he'll have died doing something an honorable man is always willing to do, and that's to die protecting his family. You'd best learn that about your husband. He'd much rather die than suffer his wife's demise."

Missy looked down at the pommel of the saddle. "This is exactly what I didn't want to happen. I didn't want Grover in any kind of danger. It's why I ran."

"You've got to let your husband decide what danger to put himself in to protect you. Especially someone like Grover. It's what he's good at, protecting people. That's why he's marshal. I think you had all the best intentions in running away like you did, but you have a skewed way of thinking on marriage. Your duty as his wife is to stand by him, not make decisions without him. He's mighty displeased with you, my dear."

Missy looked into the distance ahead. "I understand, Carter. I just hope I'm lucky enough to face Grover's wrath. I won't be able to endure the other possibility. I couldn't bear it if the last memory Grover had of his wife before dying was that she abandoned him." She choked on the last part of her sentence.

"The last memory would be that you cared enough to do something so foolish, honey. He would die knowing you loved him as desperately as he loved you."

Missy turned her moist eyes to him. "Thank you for saying that, Carter. You're a kind man."

"I have my moments, but please don't go around repeating that, Missy. I have a headstrong wife, three rambunctious children, and thirteen rowdy ranch hands to keep in line. It's better that they all think me unbearably strict."

His words drew a small smile from her, but it didn't stay on her face for long. "Carter! Look up ahead."

The light from the full moon allowed them to see the body of a horse on the trail. When they reached it, they both dismounted. Carter crouched down beside the mare's head and held the back of his hand in front of her nostrils, which didn't blow air. He shook his head sadly. "Poor beast," he muttered, noting its overall abused condition.

"That's Nathan's horse," Missy said, her eyes wide in disbelief.

Carter frowned. "Can't be. Grover and I saw him on a much larger mount, a draft horse of some kind. This here is a bangtail that's been broke."

"I'm certain this is his horse. That's his saddle too."

Carter ran his hand over his face. "I don't know what went on here, but let's not waste time trying to figure it out. We still have a spell of riding before we get to the ranch."

They resumed their journey, and Carter came up with a theory as they rode. "Nathan's mount must have dragged out on him, so he stole the larger horse Grover and I saw him on."

Moments later, they came upon Henry's rounded figure in the middle of the path. Again they dismounted and again Carter confirmed a death. "I guess we know where Nathan got his horse. Hate to say it out loud, but doesn't Henry's murder solve the biggest of your problems?"

Missy nodded. "It's strange. Very strange. I reckon shooting that man is the only favor Nathan's ever done for me." She stared at Henry's body for some time. "Carter, will you think less of me if I search him for something?"

Carter frowned. "What do you think he has that you want?"

"I gave him my mother's brooch as a bribe not to involve Grover in my troubles. I wonder if it might be on his person."

Carter took off his hat and slapped it on his thigh to rid it of some dust. "I'll search him." Carter pressed his hat back on his head and crouched beside the body. He patted Henry's shirt pockets. When he searched the pockets of his vest, he located the brooch. "That sure is pretty," he said, handing it to her. "Looks like a picture of a bird about to fly away."

The two weary travelers reached the Barnes' ranch after what seemed like days. Anna ran from the cabin in her nightdress as they neared. Carter dismounted and she threw herself into his arms.

"I'm so glad you're back," she said. "I felt so scared."

The couple kissed and hugged while Missy stood by awkwardly, feeling ashamed as she realized that she'd put this woman's husband in danger by running off. She felt no doubt that the woman would dislike her, and Missy didn't blame her. That's why she was more than a little surprised when she suddenly felt herself being hugged by Carter's strapping wife.

"You must be Missy," she exclaimed. "It's good to meet you. Your daughter is a dream baby. She was squalling like mad when Grover handed her over, but after I fed her, she just watched me the rest of the day with those big blue peepers and cooed like an angel while my creepmouse screamed like the dickens and my other two ran around like devils."

"Thank you ever so much for caring for her." Missy's heart ached upon hearing Anna's description of her sweet girl, and her eyes filled with tears knowing she was about to see her.

"Where's Grover?" Anna asked, sobering.

Carter explained the circumstances of their separation, and the mood turned somber. While Carter walked to the barn to tend to the horses, Anna and Missy walked to the cabin. Missy held Hannah Lou close for a long while, crying quietly as she did.

Later that evening, while the rest of the household slept, Missy sat on the porch bench with a quilt wrapped around her. She stared at the top of the hill where the path that curved away from the Barnes' cabin disappeared. She agonized over every second that the moon lit nothing but the hill's waves of grass. It was the longest, most torturous night of her life. At the earliest dawn of morning light, Missy heard stirring inside the cabin. She heard the sounds of children waking with a fuss on their lips and Anna and Carter responding with chiding and mollifying. Missy remained seated the bench and stared at the path.