The Outrider (Redbourne Series #5 - Will's Story) (4 page)

She’d been staring at him way too long to be
appropriate. She cleared her throat.

“Yes, I am fine. Sorry. You just reminded me of someone
I had not thought about in a long time is all. I will be fine.” She pulled her
shoulders back and stood up as tall as she could, still a good foot shorter
than the man. She scratched Caspar’s ears.

“I get that a lot.” He flashed a smile that made Elizabeth
begin to understand what had attracted Grace to him. “Name’s Ethan, ma’am. We
live just over the ridge there on Redbourne Ranch.”

There it was again.

Redbourne.

It had to be a coincidence. The likelihood of
running into Will or his family a continent away from home was slim, if not
impossible.

Ethan glanced over at the burnt rubble. “I’m
afraid there’s nothing more we can do here tonight. The fire’s just about run
its course”

“You’ve done so much already. Thank you.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. This dog of yours must have
dragged this potato sack out of the house. It was lying in the dirt under one
paw when I found her, and she nearly took my hand off when I first tried to
pick it up. She must have thought it was important. I’m sure it’s of little
consolation, but it’s pretty heavy. There might be something worth salvaging
inside.” His voice sounded hopeful.

Elizabeth looked down at the charred material of
the sack and graciously took it from Ethan’s hands. It
was
heavier than
she’d remembered. She opened the top of the bag and pulled out a beautifully
carved chest.

“It was my mother’s.” Relief washed over her. At
least she hadn’t been left completely destitute. The box had everything that
was left of her money, a few photographs of her family, and a large ruby
pendant that had been passed down from mother to daughter for generations.

“Thank you for bringing it to me.” She wiped a
layer of black soot from the edge and noticed the latch was bent. Maybe she
could have someone in town fix it later.

“Don’t thank me. Thank this pup of yours. I can’t
say I’ve ever seen an animal with that kind of instinct before, but I guess
there’s a first time for everything.”

Elizabeth leaned close to Caspar’s face. “Thanks,
Cas,” she said with heartfelt gratitude as she squeezed the dog as much as she
dared without hurting her. She turned to Mr. Redbourne. “I thought I had lost
her. I still cannot believe she went back into the house while it was burning.”

“You’ve either got a right brave hound there,
ma’am, or one with a few logs short of a pile.”

They all laughed.

The weight of the box shifted and a tiny whimper
came from inside the unlocked chest. Elizabeth opened it to discover the runt
of Caspar’s litter noisily rooting and pawing at the sides.

“Ah,” Ethan said with a laugh. “Now, that makes a
lot more sense. She went back in for her babies.”

“How did you get in there?” Elizabeth asked,
confused at how something so small could have gotten into the closed container.
She glanced over at the hamper where the other four puppies played. “Just one,”
she nodded at the basket. “I must have missed him. I grabbed all of the others on
my way out.”

The little one in the box started to whimper. She
looked down at the runt, reached in, and pulled him out, cradling him against
her chest.

“I am not sure how he got out of there. He would
have had to climb over all the other pups.”

“A real fighter,” he said with a nod of approval.

Elizabeth pulled the puppy away from her to look
into his face. “You’re going to be trouble, now aren’t you, little one?” She
asked as she scratched behind his ears. “I’ve always had a soft place in my
heart for a fighter.”

Grace squealed when she picked up the basket with
Caspar’s four little puppies. “They are adorable,” she said as she carried them
over to the wagon. “Ethan, maybe we can—”

“Nope.”

“But—”

“Nope.”

Elizabeth stood up straight and looked back at
the house. Several persistent flames still licked at the frame, but most of the
building had collapsed onto itself into a few large heaps.

“Did Ferg go for help?” Ethan asked as he laid
Caspar in the back of the wagon next to the basket of pups. She seemed quite
content to stay put atop the thick wool blanket. “I didn’t see his horse in the
stable.”

“I guess he didn’t tell you either,” Grace said,
placing her free hand on her husband’s arm, still snuggling with one of the
pups. “Ferg moved back east, I’m guessing to be closer to his son, and sold the
house suddenly to Mrs. Jessup last week.”

A silent glance passed between Ethan and Grace.

“What is it?” the exchange did not go unnoticed
by Elizabeth.

“It’s nothing.” Grace said with a giggle as the
pup she was holding licked her face.

“Ferg was an eccentric old man and sometimes he
didn’t always associate with the most respectable crowd.”

“I am afraid I am already quite aware of that
fact.”

Ethan and Grace both looked at her, their heads
tilted in the same direction.

“There were some men who stopped by last week who
seemed a little…rougher than most of the men I have encountered in Stone Creek.
They were less than hospitable and made a few threats.”

Grace tucked the puppy in her arms close to her
body and reached out to touch Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Are you all right? Did
they hurt you?”

“I think the shotgun I had aimed at the door
deterred any tomfoolery.” She laughed half-heartedly, but neither of the
Redbournes had even a hint of a smile on their faces.

“Ethan,” Grace said, shaking her head and turning
to her husband, “you don’t think that…”

“I think we need to talk to Raine.”

“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth asked, an unsettling
sensation welling up in the pit of her stomach. Now that the flames had
diminished and the house had all but collapsed completely, the night was
returning to solemn darkness and Elizabeth found it hard to read the
expressions on Ethan’s face.

“At least it won’t turn into something like what
happened in Florence City.”

Both Ethan’s and Grace’s brows scrunched
together.

Elizabeth shook her head. She always spouted
useless facts when she was nervous. “Surely you heard about it. Hoodlums
started several homes on fire and within the week, the whole town went up in
flames.”

“I’ve never heard of Florence City,” Grace said
quietly.

“Exactly.” Elizabeth had read all about the small
Kansas town in one of her history lessons with her American tutor.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

Bells sounded in the distance.

“That is the watchmen’s bell. They must have seen
the smoke,” Ethan said with a nod of his head. “The others will be here soon
enough.”

“Others?”

“My brother, Raine, is the deputy in town. He
leads a nightwatch of men who respond to incidents like this.” He looked back
at the burning house. “You are one lucky young lady, ma’am. This fire burned
more quickly than most I’ve seen. Do you know how it started?”

Elizabeth thought for a moment, her brows
scrunching together as she tried to remember. It had all happened so fast.

The window.

“I was in bed. Caspar woke me up and I heard
glass breaking downstairs. I thought maybe a window pane had fallen and
shattered against the wooden floorboards, but then my room started swirling with
smoke. When I reached the stairs, the living room was already on fire.” She
shuddered at the recollection.

Grace reached up and rubbed Elizabeth’s shoulder,
as if to offer strength.

“I ran to the kitchen and doused some towels and
the rug with water from the buckets I had been using earlier to clean up the
place, then I tried to beat out the flames.” She wiped the back of her wrist
across her forehead as if reliving the heat from the fire. “Caspar started
barking, but I have worked so hard making the place my own, I did not want to
just leave it to burn. I put everything I have…” she turned to look at the
smoking remains of the place that was to be her home, “…into this house.” Her
shoulders dropped.

“I’m glad you changed your mind before it was too
late,” Grace said, understanding lining her voice.

Elizabeth turned to the woman with a half-smile.
“It’s because of Cas. I don’t know how long I would have stayed. The obstinate
dog bit onto my skirt, growling and tugging until I finally dropped my rags and
followed her out into the yard.”

“You’re a good girl, Caspar.” Ethan scratched the
top of the hound’s head.

The melodic sound of horse’s hooves beating in
rhythm filled the distant silence as several men rode up with shovels, buckets,
and blankets.

“Ethan,” one of the men called out as he
dismounted and joined them, “did everyone get out all right?” He glanced from
Ethan to her to Grace and back to her again.

“Looks like we’re a little too late. What
happened here?”

“My house burned down,” Elizabeth said matter-of-factly.

The handsome man focused on her a moment.
“Forgive me, ma’am. I didn’t mean to sound insensitive. I don’t believe I’ve
had the pleasure.” He removed his hat and cradled it in his arm. “I’m Deputy
Raine Redbourne, ma’am. You must be Mrs. Jessup.”

She looked up at him with surprise, as did Grace
and Ethan.

“A couple of the boys in town were grumbling
about something Mr. Ferguson had taken from them. They mentioned that there was
a new couple who bought his place, so I stopped off at the telegraph office to
check the record. Where is your husband, ma’am?”

The question was simple enough.

Heat flooded Elizabeth’s face. She couldn’t quite
meet the deputy’s eyes. She’d heard that confession was good for the soul and
if at any time her soul needed something good, it was now.

“I have no husband, Deputy.”

Grace nodded her encouragement.

He scrunched his brows together. “I’m not sure I
understand, ma’am.”

“Raine,” Ethan spoke up, “it’s been a long day
and I am sure Mrs. Jessup is very tired. Do you think we could do this in the
morning instead?”

“Yes, of course,” he said with a nod toward
Ethan, then he turned back to face her. “But I’m afraid I have to ask you a few
more questions first. I know it’s hard, and I know you’re tired, ma’am, but it
isn’t everyday someone’s home burns to the ground.” He dropped his head a
little to meet her eyes. “Are you up for it?”

Elizabeth waited a moment, then nodded.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, ma’am. Do you have
any idea what may have started the fire?”

“Winston Driscoll and his boys paid her a visit a
few days ago. Threatened her,” Ethan said, stepping midway between her and his
brother.

“How do you know Mr. Driscoll, Mrs. Jessup?” the
deputy asked, ignoring Ethan and stepping sideways so he once again faced her.

“I am afraid I do not know the man.” She
shrugged. “He said that Mr. Ferguson had something of his and that if he did not
get it back, he would take what was owed out of the house.”

What could have possibly have been gained from
the man actually burning down the house?

“Did he threaten to hurt you in any way?”

Elizabeth felt the heat rise again in her face,
but didn’t respond immediately.

“I see,” Raine said.

“Apparently, she’s pretty handy with a shotgun,”
Ethan said with an encouraging smile and a wink.

“Understood.” Raine placed his hat back on his
head. “I apologize that we didn’t get here in time to save the place, ma’am.
I’m sure that we’ll be able to round up enough men to help you rebuild whenever
you’re ready.” He tapped the front of his hat and then turned to Ethan. “I’ll
head out to Driscoll’s place tomorrow and see what Winston has to say.” He nodded
at Elizabeth. “Ma’am.”

“Thank you, Deputy,” she said.

He nodded briefly, then walked over to where a
group of men stood, holding up their lanterns to look at the scorched remains
of her home.

Ethan cleared his throat.

“If it’s all right with you, Mrs. Jessup, Grace
and I would like you to come home with us. Tomorrow we’ll worry about what
needs to be done here, but for now, I think it’ll do you good to get some
sleep.” Ethan extended his hand.

My books.

Elizabeth held up one finger and dashed over to
where she’d dropped the few books she’d been able to salvage. She scrunched
down, careful to keep the puppy securely tucked in one arm, and picked up her
books one at a time until all had been collected. Out of all the volumes she’d
brought with her, only five were left for her library. And she longed for her
expansive collection back home.

At least you have these
, she told herself with a
grateful nod.