Over the Edge (6 page)

Seth left only to come face-to-face with the parson. “Thanks for sending your wife over.”

The sidewalk was busy enough that they stepped off it to stand beside horses at the hitching post. Wagons drove past. Horseback riders plodded along the dusty streets. A cold wind whipped past them, and Seth drew the collar of his buckskin jacket up to protect his ears and wrapped his son inside his coat. The boy was dressed warmly, thanks to the hotel owner’s knowing wife.

“Your wife is a tough woman, Mr. Kincaid.”

“That she is, Parson Frew. That she is.” Seth smiled to think just how tough.

“I don’t know if, in the middle of all that went on yesterday, I thanked her.” The parson looked down at his boots as if it was hard for him to go on; then his head lifted and his eyes blazed. “I’m trying not to be ashamed of abandoning her. But whatever my actions, it doesn’t change the fact that she saved me, my wife, the men on that stage, and your boy here and herself. She’s a woman to be proud of.”

The letter Seth had gotten came from Texas, and he had a sudden flash of memory. Callie had grown up on the frontier. “They grow ’em tough in Texas.”

How had she ended up caring for a Union soldier in Georgia? Seth knew Andersonville was in Georgia, but maybe he’d met her somewhere else. He sure wished he remembered a little more about how he’d come to be a husband and father.

A smile spread on the parson’s face. “My wife, the most kindhearted, peace-loving and God-fearing woman I’ve ever known, asked me if I’d buy her a gun. She’s determined to help settle the West.”

Seth laughed. “You’ll have your hands full with her whether you say yes or no. Good luck to you, Parson.”

“I felt God call me to this place, Kincaid.” A somber expression replaced the parson’s smile. “But now I’m not so sure. I hate knowing that my wife especially could be in danger. I knew it was a wild land, but until the first man opens fire on you . . . well, I didn’t really understand just how dangerous. I’m not sure we’ll make it out here. I’m not a tough man with a gun, and my wife certainly isn’t a ball of fire like yours.”

“My brothers are both married. I wouldn’t say either of their wives are what you’d call tough.”

“There aren’t that many women out this way. I’m surprised to hear of a family with three women.”

A man strode by heading for the general store. The parson stepped sideways to let him pass.

“My brother Ethan married the widow of a man named Wendell Gilliland. Rafe got himself yoked to Gilliland’s daughter.”

The man stumbled and Seth’s hand shot out to keep him from falling.

“Thanks.” He gave Seth a look so sharp it earned Seth’s attention.

“Glad to help.”

With a nod, the man turned to the parson. “My wife and I enjoyed meeting you last night, Parson. We’re looking forward to you serving our town.”

The parson shook the man’s hand. “I remember you from last night, Henry. I was glad to see a good crowd.”

“Are you looking for a church, too?” Henry turned to Seth.

Seth didn’t want to give the man any information. “Doubt it. We live a long way out.”

“Well, I’ll get on. We’ll see you around, Parson.” Henry moved on toward the general store but not quite so quickly as he’d moved before.

Because being on edge was a good way to stay alive, Seth made note of the man. There was nothing out of the ordinary about him. Black hair and eyes, with white at the temples. A mouth that, just for a second, curled into cruelty. He was dressed like any other western man, in brown broadcloth shirt and pants. Still, Seth would recognize him later.

He waited until the man went on inside, then turned back to the parson. “So that one man, Gilliland, brought two of the women with him. My wife just rode out here, and I . . . Seth couldn’t make himself admit he’d run off from his wife. He hugged Connor with regret. Connor thanked him by slobbering on his shirt. “Callie and Connor have joined me now that I’ve got my cabin built.”

And now that they’ve tracked me down.

The parson clapped Seth on the back. “Good luck in your new life. I understand a Colorado winter in these mountains is a fearsome thing.”

Seth smiled. “I grew up with it. But I reckon Callie is in for a surprise. I’d better get back to her. You have my thanks right back for getting help for my wife and protecting my son. I’ve been riding out to meet the stage real regular. Callie’s letters weren’t clear on when she’d get here.”

“God bless you, Seth. Look me up if you’re ever in Colorado City again.”

The man who’d gone into the store stepped out with a bag of flour over his shoulder.

Seth wondered why a man bothered to walk all the way to the general store to buy just one thing. Of course if a body lived close, it was probably common enough.

With no interest in furthering his acquaintance with someone from Colorado City he’d never see again, Seth said to the parson, “I’ll head on back to my wife now and send yours home.”

Seth shifted his gaze to look the newcomer in the eye. Unarmed, dressed like a farmer, his eyes too sharp for an honest man. In one hard look, Seth hoped this man, whatever his business was with the parson, got the clear message that Seth Kincaid wasn’t to be taken lightly.

Seth jerked the brim of his hat, took in the lack of a gun, even noting the man wore no coat where one could be hidden, then turned and walked away. He had an itch between his shoulder blades, but common sense told Seth a stranger without a gun wasn’t about to shoot him in the back in the middle of a busy street.

He walked to the hotel, hoping his wife was up to heading out. Seth was eager to get shut of this town.

Jasper slammed the door and it drew Trixie’s full attention.

Bea, her name was Bea now. He’d thought he was getting used to calling her that, but right now it gnawed on his temper.

“What is it, Jasper?” She’d quit doing whatever she’d done to keep her hair a vivid red. It was now a mousy dull red streaked with gray. She still had a good figure, but it was concealed in modest gingham instead of being showcased in revealing silk. She’d left her garish face paint behind. And she was still a beautiful, appealing woman.

Jasper hadn’t been able to give up his name, so they’d compromised. He was Henry Jasper Duff, married to Beatrice, called Bea. He introduced himself as Henry Duff, but Bea at least still called him Jasper. If she hadn’t agreed to do that, Jasper felt as if he’d cease to exist.

And he was a farmer. Not even a prosperous one. They lived on the edge of town with a few rocky patches planted to a garden or kept as grazing for their three cows. But Bea had rat-holed enough money to let them have everything they wanted, as long as they didn’t want too much.

Jasper wanted a lot.

“I ran into one of those Kincaid brothers and heard him talking about the Gillilands. It burns bad that they’ve got all my money while we live in this shack.”

Bea set aside her embroidery hoop and rose, smoothing her skirt. Bea wasn’t a stupid woman.

“We talked about this.” There was no innocent confusion that would have given Jasper a chance to calm down. “You’re free to chase after that money for the rest of your life. Break whatever laws suit you and hurt anyone, man, woman or child, who gets in your way. Staying here has always been your choice. Except—”

“I know!” Jasper cut her off before she could give him the ultimatum again. “If I go, don’t come back.”

And Trixie—he shook his head—
Bea
. His wife had all the money.

“I know we live a good life. We’re happy.” Jasper was currently bitterly unhappy. “We gather eggs. We milk a cow.”

“I milk a cow. I gather eggs.” Bea gave him the soft look that reminded him of how hard she was. She
chose
to be decent. She
chose
to be honest. She’d turned her back on the saloon she owned and the women who worked abovestairs, just as Jasper had turned his back on his opium trade and a dozen other criminal enterprises he ran in Houston when Wendell Gilliland had stolen his money and left him owing the wrong people.

Jasper’s fingers itched to find his derringer and load it. Carry it in his sleeve like he used to. Demand respect like he used to.

“I’m just—” Jasper cut himself off. “It was just running into him like that. I could have grabbed him and shaken him until he told me where my money is.”

Except he couldn’t because one look told Jasper that Kincaid was a tough man and Jasper had been unarmed and defenseless—weak. “It burns to be a nobody in this one-horse town when I used to run a good share of the crime in Houston.”

Jasper raised his eyes to glare at his wife, his living, breathing, bossy wife.

“Are you trying to tell me you think that’s something to boast about? Running crime in Houston? Because it’s something to be ashamed of, Jasper, and you know it. You heard what the parson said.”

That reined Jasper in a bit. He had no business taking his temper out on her. “We’ve got a decent life here. I don’t want to go back to what I was before.”

Well, maybe just for a short time, until he got his money.

“Then give up on that money. It’s blood money, Jasper. It’s only yours in the most sinful sense of the word. Losing that money is going to save your life and if you’ll let it, your soul.”

He was married to a preachin’ woman for a fact. He took a few steps and it brought him all the way across the room. He’d owned a beautiful mansion in Houston. He wore silk shirts and smoked fine cigars. Now he lived in a house the size of his
bedroom
back home. He wore broadcloth that itched every time he moved. With a derisive laugh he admitted he didn’t want to smoke anyway.

There was a flash of fear in her eyes as he approached and it shamed him. “I’m not going to hurt you. Don’t even think it, Bea.”

He reached out and rested two hands on her strong shoulders. He drew her close, then closer. “I know you’re right. A man just has a bad moment now and again.” He kissed her and she was the only fine and silky thing he needed.

She was as generous as always.

Seth got to the room just as Connor fell asleep in his arms. He found Callie up and wearing a clean white dress, her dark hair washed and braided in a way that covered most of the damage done by the doctor’s clippers. She was so darkly tanned it was hard to judge if she was weakened by blood loss or fatigue, but how could she not be?

Callie set a fork down on an empty plate as Seth came in.

“How is she, Mrs. Frew?” Seth had a hard time taking his eyes off his pretty wife. Callie was looking right back, but Seth thought he saw something other than admiration in her gaze.

“Better. The bath and clean clothes helped. A good meal and a good night’s sleep, too. I’ll go along now.” Mrs. Frew gathered up the dishes from the small table where Callie sat.

They said their goodbyes and thank-yous. Seth laid Connor down on the folded blankets, where the boy had spent the night. Then he sat on the bed. Callie was on a chair pulled up to a bedside table.

“How are you?” They were only a few inches apart.

“I’m steady. Not full strength but I’ll survive. The doctor came while you were out. He thought I needed to rest a few days because of the blood I lost, but I’m ready to get out of this town.”

“We can head out, then. It’s a long ride home, and if you wear out along the trail, we can camp for the night. Ethan’s house is closer than mine, so if you last long enough we can stop there. I’ve got supplies at the general store and horses to carry things home. Some of the trails are too narrow and too hard a pull for a wagon.”

“Did you have a good time carrying my son around town?” She had enough strength to shoot arrows at him with her eyes.

“He’s a fine boy, Callie. I’m sorry I—”

“I’ve heard ‘
I’m sorry’
enough,” Callie cut him off. “Let’s get on for home.”

Seth hesitated. There was something about the fire in her black eyes that drew him like a moth. “You’re hurt. Can I say I’m sorry about that?”

She shrugged. “Saying you’re sorry doesn’t change anything.”

“I know. And wishing I’d gotten there sooner so I could help you doesn’t do a bit of good. But I’d have spared you the danger you were in if I could.” He lifted a hand and drew it along a scratch on her cheek. “The town is buzzing about the woman who stood off a band of outlaws. The stage driver and the man riding shotgun are well known and well liked. They’re both going to live because of you.”