West Winds of Wyoming (27 page)

He dismounted, wrapping Georgia’s reins around the hitching rail next to a palomino and a broken-down bay. Yanking his brim lower against the setting sun, he unbuckled his soft leather saddlebags from the back of his saddle, all the while making sure Nell’s book didn’t fall into the dirt.

Across the street, the door to the mercantile opened and a woman stepped out, a broom in her hand. She glanced left and then right then started sweeping. It wasn’t until she noticed him and waved that he recalled her from the picnic and then again from the Red Rooster Inn as the long-faced woman who’d opened the door to Brenna. The apron around her waist and pencil tucked behind her ear told him she’d gotten the job she was after.

“Charlie Rose,” a man’s voice called out.

He turned. Sheriff Preston and his deputy, Thom Donovan, strode down the boardwalk in his direction, the big wolflike dog following dutifully behind.

“Sheriff,” he said when they stopped in front of his horse. “Deputy.” He flopped his saddlebag over his shoulder, then joined them on the wooden walkway.

“Albert and Thom work fine for us.” Thom stuck out his hand and Charlie took it, then did the same with the sheriff.

“Seems pretty quiet.” Charlie looked around. “Is Logan Meadows always like this?”

The dog, old by the gray and white hairs around his muzzle, lay down on the boards. “Pretty much so,” Albert replied. “By now everyone’s on their way home to get some supper.”

“That’s where I’ll be headed in a moment,” Thom said. “Hannah will bring something home from the restaurant. Comes in handy.”

Albert smiled. “Anything going on out at the ranch?”

Charlie hadn’t planned on saying anything, but now that the sheriff and deputy were here, he thought better of it. The farther he got away from Wilsonville, the less the threat became. Nell alone at the ranch was his main concern. “Actually, there is. Had a visitor of sorts.”

“Oh?”

“Nell was out at the ranch yesterday alone. When I came back from town, she told me there’d been a rider up on the bluff. He was too far away for her to make out who he was. I figure, he would have come in and said hello if she’d known him.”

Thom scratched his chin. “Could have been someone passing through giving his horse a rest.”

“Maybe,” Charlie agreed. “But that’s Cotton Ranch land.” He struggled with whether to tell them everything about his past but wasn’t quite ready for that just yet. “Seems to have spooked her pretty bad. And Seth found prints he didn’t recognize by one of their streams.”

Thom looked at Albert. “Logan Meadows isn’t so small anymore that we know each and every person, at least not when they first arrive.”

“I’m glad you spoke up, Charlie,” Albert said. “Nell seems to think she’s invincible. She’s a very private person. We’ll ride out your way from time to time.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. We’re going up into the high country in a day or two to round up some stock. We’ll be gone for at least a week. I’m not sure, but Seth may be staying at the ranch.” All three men doffed their hats when two ladies passed by, one carrying a baby in her arms and the other a basket covered with a cloth.

“Nell’s made it perfectly clear that she can take care of herself,” Albert said. “She and her brother have been living on their own most their life. Anytime anyone tries to coddle her, she gets cranky. Just thought I’d warn you.”

As if I didn’t already know that.
“She may talk big and for all I know she’s telling the truth. Still, she’s a woman, Sheriff. I don’t like the thought of some unknown person out there watching her—for whatever reason. Who knows what he had on his mind.”

The sheriff’s comment rankled. They stood eye to eye and Charlie had the urge to knock some sense into him. Nell was a woman who needed protection whether she thought so or not.

“I agree with you, Charlie. I didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers.”

Charlie tamped back on his temper. “I’m glad we agree on that at least.” He hefted his saddlebag. “I need to get this into the bank before it closes.”

He took a few steps, then stopped and turned back. “I’m sort of in a hurry to get back to the ranch. Could you drop this by to Mrs. Lane?” He held out the book. If they were waiting for some sort of explanation, they’d have a long delay.

“Not at all,” Thom said. “We’re walking down that way right now.”

The bank lobby was vacant, but Charlie heard voices in the back. He sat in a chair and opened his saddlebag. Going through his things, he pulled out the final post from the tutor he’d corresponded with before the trouble in Wilsonville had started. She’d come highly recommended from Perkins School for the Blind in Boston and wasn’t averse to a new town—as long as she wasn’t stuck too far out from civilization. That might be a problem out at the Cotton Ranch. He opened the folded note and skimmed down the page, stopping at the part that had him worried.

. . . that is why, Mr. Axelrose, I must insist that wherever I will be staying is within a town proper—or close by. I am getting on in age and my knees are not what they used to be. I do not desire to live where I cannot go to church or buy something in the mercantile. That is my only stipulation. I believe close proximity to others is also best for the child. I will wait to hear from you. At that time, I will book my passage and bring all the necessary tools for teaching Braille to your child. I look forward to this new challenge of opening up your little girl’s world.

Charlie folded the letter and slipped the correspondence back into the envelope. He stared at the wall, thinking about Maddie.

The voices in the back office became heated. A door opened.

“And I say again”—it was a deep male voice—“if they miss another payment my client will put in an offer not even you can refuse, Mr. Lloyd.”

“This is
my
bank and I won’t be bullied, Mr. Simpson. I don’t care who your clients are. Oil barons, as you say, or pig farmers, everyone is treated the same. You won’t change my mind.”

“Progress won’t be put off, Lloyd. This whole territory is rich in oil. Finding it is only a matter of time.” Footsteps sounded as the men approached the lobby. “I’ll be on my way now, but don’t think I’ve forgotten about the Cotton Ranch. That is some of the most promising land we’ve seen in a long time. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t like to have a piece of that yourself.”

Could that be the rider on the hill? Scouting the land for oil?
A rush of relief flowed through Charlie at the explanation—
not Galante
—but his elation was short lived. Who was trying to buy Nell and Seth’s land out from under them before they knew what happened? Charlie stood.

Mr. Lloyd pulled up short when he found Charlie standing in the lobby.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Benson went home early today. I hope you haven’t waited long.”

“Not long.”

The two men walked outside together, still talking. Charlie watched through the window as the wealthy fellow, Mr. Simpson, with his expensive pants and topcoat, gathered the palomino’s reins. Charlie took note of his wide-set eyes and thick nose. One bushy eyebrow spanned his forehead. The two men shook hands, then the banker turned and started for the door.

“Good to see you again, Mr. Rose,” Mr. Lloyd said. “Congratulations on winning the quilt. Now, how can I help you?”

Annoying the banker with a demand to know what business Mr. Simpson had with the Cotton Ranch wouldn’t do anyone any good. Angry men didn’t spill the beans. “I’d like to make a deposit.”

The banker’s face lit up. “Well, then. You’ve come to the right place. Come right over here.”

Charlie followed and hefted his saddlebags onto the counter. He withdrew the manila envelope that contained his life savings and handed the package to Mr. Lloyd. The banker counted out the stack of one-hundred-dollar bills and made note of the amount on a deposit slip. At the total, his eyebrows raised. Not a fortune, but more than most people had.

Charlie signed the slip and handed it to the banker. On another slip he scribbled out a message and folded the paper so what he wrote couldn’t be seen. Mr. Lloyd tipped his head in question.

Charlie set the note on top of his stack of money. “In case something happens to me.”

“I understand.”

Charlie nodded. “I couldn’t help but overhear part of your conversation earlier. I also want you to know I’m fully prepared to make that payment for Seth Cotton in case he and his sister default on their loan. You know I have the money.”

Mr. Lloyd’s eyes narrowed as if trying to figure him out. “That I do.”

“Do you need me to sign something? I don’t want their land bought out from under them.”

Mr. Lloyd shook his head. “First, your handshake will suffice. Second, I have no intention of allowing a third party to come in and make trouble for Nell and Seth.”

Charlie straightened and picked up his saddlebag. “That man sounded quite determined.”

At that, the banker smiled. “Indeed. And so do you.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

C
harlie departed the bank with every intention of heading straight back to the ranch. He’d done what he came to do.
And more.
He wasn’t sure how much Nell and Seth’s mortgage was, but he’d all but promised the bank owner that he’d make sure they didn’t miss their next payment, even if the solution meant using the funds he’d been paid for his gun shop. Not a goldmine, but a good-sized nest egg he was building upon to pay for Maddie’s schooling.

The thought of losing that hurt. An unsettled sensation swirled around in the pit of his stomach.

Charlie flopped his now empty saddlebag over the back of his saddle and buckled the keeps. As he did, a flash of blue calico print caught the corner of his eye. Mrs. Logan, with her son in her arms and a small girl child by the hand, headed for the mercantile across the street. He remembered her from the picnic. And from Nell mentioning how Jessie Logan had helped Brenna Lane throughout the years and now shared her own daughter’s dresses with Maddie. He felt a strong urge to go in and thank her. Not straight out, of course, not for caring for his daughter when he couldn’t, but he’d be able in some way to make her day a little nicer.

He crossed the street and stepped into the store.
I’ll think of something I need to buy.

“Dwight Hoskins saw Brenna Lane at Mr. Hutton’s house in the wee hours of the morning—while it was still dark. Just the two of them,” Beth Fairington was saying. She seemed to have Mrs. Logan trapped up against the mail counter in the back of the store. The one-sided conversation had kept them from noticing his arrival. “It’s not hard at all to imagine what tomfoolery they were up to,” Beth went on. “Her being a widow and all.”

Mrs. Logan’s chin came up. “Hush your mouth, Beth. I’m sure you’ve heard Mr. Hutton has taken ill. Brenna was only doing her Christian duty by nursing him, nothing more.” From her arms, little Shane Logan scowled up at the store clerk, resembling his pa.

“Still. It’s unseemly for her to be alone with him in the middle of the night. Seems you’re just brushing that fact under the rug, Jessie. But then, you always did turn a blind eye to propriety—I recall your shenanigans back in Valley Springs. You and Mr. Logan living out at your cabin without a chaperone.”

Mrs. Logan’s chin went even higher. “Keep your voice down,” she commanded under her breath. “Everything that spews from your mouth is tainted by your unkind heart. Violet told me Maude had hired you, so I came in today to say hello and welcome you to town, all the while praying you’d changed. It didn’t take more than two minutes to see that you haven’t.” She shook her head and Shane followed suit. “Where is Maude?”

“Taking the day off since I’m here now. Said it’s her first in years. She’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Fine.” Mrs. Logan pushed away, stepping over to a shelf that held several bolts of colorful textiles. “I’ll look these over now and place an order with
Maude
tomorrow. As far as we’re concerned, I won’t share another word with you.”

Charlie opened the door until the bell tinkled, then let it close on its own, not daring to listen in any longer. They’d have his hide if they knew how much he’d heard already.