Trail of Kisses (27 page)

“
Miss Tremaine’s doll?”

Ben nodded, so abashed that tears were in his
eyes. “I never seen such a thing before,” he said. “I… I wanted to
see what it looked like.”

The excuse did nothing to allay Cade’s
suspicion. “Did you get a good look?”

Ben shrugged. “It’s just a doll. Nothin’ to
get all upset about.”

Cade shifted, uncertain. He didn’t trust Ben
in the least, but these days he didn’t trust anybody. How long
could he go on suspecting everyone he came across of wanting to
hurt Lynne or damage her reputation or even laugh at her? Ben was
just a kid. He’d been hired by Judge Tremaine.

“
Go on, then,” he said, shifting
to the side. “Get out. Go make yourself useful and earn your
keep.”

“
Yessir.” Ben scrambled quickly
past him, jumping out the back of the wagon and dashing
off.

Cade’s suspicions remained. He shuffled to the
back of the wagon and lifted the lid of Lynne’s hope chest.
Everything was just as she’d left it. The doll still lay tucked in
her bedroll of napkins, head askew. The rest of the linen and a few
of Lynne’s fancier clothes were folded and where they should be.
The purse her father had given her was tucked in the corner as
usual. There was nothing more, nothing less than there should have
been.

Still, Cade knew that something was
wrong.

The rain picked up just as guests were
beginning to arrive at the tent beside Mrs. Weingarten’s wagon.
Lynne sighed at the turn in the weather but put on a smile and
helped her friends serve tea. It had been so long since she had had
a taste of society and the way that life was supposed to be that
she was willing to put up with a little dampness. Callie had
brought out her mother’s silver tea service, and even though the
teapot had been damaged the day that miner tried to rob her wagon,
it made a lovely centerpiece. Lynne could almost pretend she was at
home entertaining her father’s guests.

“
Would you like a biscuit, Mrs.
Finch?” she asked, presenting a tray of everyday, ordinary trail
biscuits to a tired-looking young woman holding a baby in one
arm.

Mrs. Finch hesitated. “Yes, thank you.” She
took one from the plate, then turned to fetch tea from the table
before Lynne could continue the conversation. Her eyes never truly
met Lynne’s.

“
A biscuit, Mrs. Merriweather?”
she asked one of the farmer’s wives who stood at the edge of a
larger group of women.

“
Um….” Mrs. Merriweather glanced
to her companions. “Yes, all right.”

“
Is something wrong?” she
asked.

Mrs. Merriweather blushed scarlet at the
question. Instead of answering directly, she said, “How is your
young man?”

Lynne blinked. “Mr. Lawson?”

“
Yes. Him.” Her answer was
flat.

Lynne looked past her to the other women in
the group. They were pretending not to notice her standing there,
tray in hand.

“
Mr. Lawson is doing well,” she
said to all of the women, even the ones ignoring her. “He’s been
working very hard to keep me safe,
as my uncle hired him
to
.”

“
Yes, I’m sure,” one of the women
pretending not to notice her murmured. The middle-aged woman next
to her snorted and raised a hand to hide her laughter.

With a growing frown, Lynne said, “It hasn’t
been easy, considering how little help he’s had in finding the man
who attacked me.” She raised a hand to the bandage around her
throat. She’d hidden it with a ribbon and broach, but it was what
it was.

“
I am sorry for that,” Mrs.
Merriweather said, lowering her eyes. “It must be troublesome,
being so nearly….” The unspoken word ‘killed’ hung in the
air.

“
You seem to be coping well with
the danger,” the woman who had been pretending to ignore her said,
still not looking fully at her. “You and Mr. Lawson.”

Her friend tittered again.

Cold prickles of something caught between
anger and shame sizzled across Lynne’s skin. They were judging her.
She knew it was her own fault for behaving so boldly on the trail,
but what did they expect her to do? Travel the entire weeks-long
journey in mourning with her tail between her legs? Give in to her
fear? Dismiss the handsome, caring man who was intent on protecting
her?

“
Biscuit?” she asked instead,
offering them the tray.

The women each took one, some refusing to meet
her eyes, others staring right at her as if they were being served
by one of the miners.

“
You have such impeccable manners,
Miss Tremaine,” Mrs. Merriweather said, polite but
strained.

“
Yes,” the other woman said. “I’m
sure you’ll have no trouble finding employment at one of the finer
saloons in Denver City.”

Rage boiled up from Lynne’s gut, making her
smile sharp and forced. These woman knew nothing. They didn’t know
what it was to be threatened, to have their families threatened.
They didn’t know what it was to cling to a warm ray of hope in the
middle of a desolate situation. All they could do was stand there
and judge her for having enough backbone to face her fears head on.
She was her Papa’s brave girl, no matter who she had to stand up
to.

“
Yes,” she answered, fighting to
keep her voice from quivering. “I’m sure your husbands would
agree.”

Without waiting to hear their replies or to
see more than the shocked looks on their faces, she pivoted and
marched off. It was a crude jab, one she never would have
considered making if she was at home in St. Louis or in Lexington,
but the cows deserved it. She would not give in to bullies, whether
they had knives or merely sharp words.

“
Lynne. What’s got you looking
like someone spilled salt in your tea?” Cade asked as he strode
into the tent.

She had never been so glad to see someone in
her life. “Polite society,” she answered, more than a little growl
in her voice.

From the looks of things, Cade understood what
she was talking about. “I’ve had a few… interesting comments myself
while looking for our Briscoe Boy.”

Lynne huffed and carried the tray of biscuits
to the central table. A crowd of sorts was swarming around the
table, including Callie’s husband John, Reverend Joseph, and a
couple other men. The rain had picked up to a torrent and hammered
on the canvas that made up the tent. The roof was sagging in a few
places and leaking in others.

“
That’s sort of what I want to
talk to you about,” Cade said.

He took her arm and pulled her away from the
crush of people in the center of the tent. They stopped just at the
edge, near one of the tent poles. Cade was already soaked and wore
his wide-brimmed hat and a slicker to ward off the rain.

“
Did you find something?” Lynne
asked, excitement building in spite of the rain and the gossiping
biddies.

“
No.” Cade’s shoulders sank. “No
one saw a thing. Well,” he rubbed his freshly-shaven chin, “no one
saw a thing that has anything to do with whoever’s after you.
They’ve all seen a lot of the two of us spending time
together.”

Lynne crossed her arms and made a face. “If
these neighbors of ours would put half as much effort into helping
us as they do into looking down their noses, we wouldn’t be in half
the trouble we’re in.”

To her surprise, Cade grinned. It wasn’t just
a surface grin either. It lit his eyes and made his face shine with
warmth. “I think we’ve proven that we’re capable of getting into
more than our fair share of trouble, with or without the wagon
train gossips.”

She laughed. “I consider it a victory. If
we’re causing trouble of our own, then whoever is trying to hurt me
must feel as though he’s falling behind.”

“
Which has its good points and its
bad points.” Cade tilted his head to the side,
considering.

Behind them, at the center table, someone had
raised their voice over something, but Lynne hardly noticed. Cade
slid closer to her, taking her right hand with both of his and
holding it between them.

“
Lynne, this is the worst possible
time and place for this, but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking
these last few days.”

“
Yes?” Her heart sped
up.

“
Chances are we’d vex each other
from now until our end of days, what with how stubborn each of us
are, but I don’t think I’d mind that too much.”

“
I don’t think I’d mind either.”
Heat flooded her cheeks even as the world seemed to tip around her.
The rain drummed on the tent and something thumped behind her, but
she didn’t mind.

“
I don’t like the way people have
been talking about you. You and me. I hate to do anything that
makes it look like I’m giving in to someone else’s foolish opinion
of things….”

“
But?” Lynne prompted
him.

He leaned closer, letting out a breath that
was at once defeated and energized. “Lynne, how would you like to
be my—”

A loud rip sounded behind them. Half a beat
later, the central tent post cracked. Lynne whipped around to see
what was going on just as Reverend Joseph swiped Callie’s silver
teapot off of the table.

“
Drop it!” one of the men standing
near the table shouted, but Reverend Joseph ignored him. He shot
out into the rain, the man who had shouted and John Rye rushing
after him.

Lynne didn’t see where they went. She craned
her neck to watch, but the tent ripped further, spilling more cold
rainwater on the guests below. A few women screamed. A second later
and one whole side of the tent collapsed.

Cade tugged on Lynne’s arm to pull her out of
harm’s way and into the clearing beside the ruined tea party.
Between the rain and the struggling people under the canvas, the
tent continued to fold, post by post.

“
Should we help them?” Lynne
asked, clinging to Cade’s arm.

“
No, wait, look!”

Cade pointed across the writhing mass of
canvas to where a man was running off. He had his coat collar
turned up over his neck and his hat pulled low, hiding his face,
but he clearly clutched a knife of some sort in one
hand.

“
It’s him!” Lynne shouted. She
lunged forward, anger swirling anew. How dare her attacker disrupt
Mrs. Weingarten’s tea party then just run off?

“
Lynne, wait!”

Cade came barreling after her. He grabbed her
arm and yanked her back against his chest just as Reverend Joseph
and Kyle went tearing past them on horseback. Lynne had come inches
from being trampled. Cade hugged her close, shielding her head with
one hand, as two more horses shot past, nearly knocking into them.
The last one held both John Rye and Callie.

By the time the danger of being trampled was
past and Cade let Lynne go, the camp was in turmoil. Women were
weeping and wailing under the tent canvas as they tried to break
free. Mr. Evans was bellowing orders to his assistants. Farmers and
miners were running every which way.

“
Stop him!” Cade raised his voice
to join the chaos. “Stop the man with the knife!”

Two of the farmers chased after the man, who
had nearly made it to the river. They caught him by his coat and
dragged him down, kicking and screaming. In short order, they had
wrestled the man into submission. He was wrenched to his feet and
dragged back toward the sodden camp.

Cade grabbed Lynne’s hand and raced to meet
them. “We’ve got him!”

Chapter Fifteen

The rain was still pouring down in sheets by
the time Cade and Lynne met the two men who had caught the
blackguard with the knife.

“
Who is he?” Cade shouted as they
approached. “Make him show his face.”

The two men were only too happy to oblige.
They swiped the man’s hat from his head and yanked his collar down.
Cade vaguely recognized the man as one of the miners, one of the
ones who had been causing trouble.

“
It were only a joke!” The
white-faced miner held up his hands in submission. “A joke.
Honest.”

“
We found this on him.” One of the
men who had caught him presented Cade with a small silver pocket
knife.

Cade took the blade and studied it. It was old
with spots of rust in a few places. A chip had been taken out of
the metal near the point.

Lynne pressed close to his arm and leaned over
to take a look. “A pocket knife?” She raised a hand to her
throat.

“
It were a joke,” the miner wailed
on. “I just wanted to see all them stuffy, snooty folks swim. I
didn’t mean no harm, really I didn’t.”

“
What’s going on over here?” Pete
growled as he marched toward them. His eyes were blazing with fury
and the miner backpedaled to get away.

“
I believe we’ve caught the man
who’s been trying to hurt Lynne,” Cade said.

“
Huh?” the miner squealed, his
voice raising two octaves with the one syllable.