26

After tossing and turning all night, Kate rose just as the silver fingers of dawn crept along her windowsill. Already, the air blowing through her open window was warm, promising another hot day. It felt more like summer than spring.

She quickly dressed, and after fixing herself a hasty breakfast of coffee, cold bread, and jam, she headed for the shop. Instead of waiting to ride to town with her aunt, she walked the mile, hoping to clear her head.

It wasn’t just the holdup that had been on her mind all night; it was Frank.

Dear, sweet Frank. She still couldn’t believe the nice things he’d said. He’d touched her deeply, maybe more deeply than he ever had.

So why the confusion? It wasn’t like her not to know her own mind, but her emotions were so tied up in knots that she couldn’t begin to unravel them.

Frank had been about to propose. He’d been on his knees, ring in hand. Had it not been for the holdup, he would have asked her to marry him, and she had no idea how she would have answered him.

It was true he had changed. She’d had to keep blinking to make sure it really was him and not another man who had taken over his body. He’d been so sweet and thoughtful in recent weeks and seemed to have his jealousy under control. There really wasn’t any reason not to marry him. What woman wouldn’t want a husband like him? The mind was certainly willing, but the heart held back, and she had no idea why.

Was it Brett Tucker? No, no, no, that wasn’t it. There was no denying that she found him attractive. What woman wouldn’t? The combination of blond hair, blue eyes, and winning smile made him the most attractive man she had ever set eyes on. But that didn’t make him suitable as a husband.

In any case, he wasn’t interested in her. He wouldn’t be so eager to leave town if he were. At heart, he was a roamer and had even said as much. Men like him could never settle down. He’d also made it clear how much he regretted his part in stopping her wedding.

He never missed a chance to put in a good word for Frank and try to convince her to take him back. He’d also told her in every way possible that their kiss had meant nothing and would never happen again. What more proof could she possibly want?

Maybe knowing that he wasn’t interested—knowing he was out of bounds, knowing that he would soon leave Haywire behind—maybe that’s what made him so attractive. Wasn’t it the forbidden fruit that people found most tempting? Every day, she watched her customers try to resist the mouthwatering display of confections in her shop. Few, if any, succeeded.

So, was that the answer? Was knowing that Brett was out of reach the real attraction?

Whatever the reason, she owed it to Frank to be honest with him. It wasn’t fair to let him go on thinking things could go back to the way they were before their disastrous wedding. She loved Frank, she did, but not in the way he deserved to be loved. She knew that now. The question was what to do about it.

Pushing her thoughts aside, she inhaled the fresh morning air. Since it was still early, the town was relatively quiet. She waved at Old Man Gordon, who was erecting a sign in front of the general store announcing that day’s specials. Already, Hoot Owl Pete had taken up residence in front of the shop, next to the carefully arranged pyramid of plump peaches.

The window of Frank’s saddle and leather shop still displayed a closed sign. From the door of the boot and shoemaker shop, Shoe-Fly Jones waved, and she waved back. The tantalizing scent of fresh bread wafted from the bakery, and two horses were already tethered in front of the Feedbag Café.

Arriving at her own shop, she turned the key in the lock and entered. The sweet smell of caramel and cinnamon greeted her like an old friend. Today, she would master her uncle’s recipe if it killed her. Losing herself to the task of candy making was the only way to take her mind off things she’d rather not think about.

Donning her apron, she immediately set to work. Tossing sugar and water into the large copper pot, she placed it on the stove and stirred the mixture with a wooden paddle until the sugar reached the hard crack state.

No sooner had she poured the mass onto the cold slab and set it aside to cool than her aunt entered the kitchen, complaining about the high price of molasses. “Sixty-seven cents a gallon, can you believe it?” Dumping her bag on the counter by the sink, she glanced at the white, misshapen glob on the counter and shook her head.

“Land sakes, I should have known. You’re at it again. Whenever something happens to you, out comes your uncle’s hard candy recipe.”

Kate poked a finger into the sugary mass to see if it was cool enough to pull. “Uncle Joe said that only a true artisan can make this right.”

Aunt Letty rolled her eyes. “There’s no money in that. It takes too long to make. You can make a week’s supply of toffee in the time it takes to make a small batch of that stuff.”

“This isn’t about money,” Kate said. “It’s about art.”

Aunt Letty shook her head. She was far too practical to worry about art. In that regard, Kate took after her uncle.

Transferring the sugar mixture to a heated plank to keep it pliable, Kate pinched out a strand and blocked out the design, using a strip of green dough. Later, she hoped to master a more complex design, but for now she would keep it simple. She wrapped the strand in a length of white sugar mixture. To this, she added a layer of red and rolled the mass into a strip several inches thick.

She stretched and pulled at the strips until at last she had a thin, narrow rope. She then cut off an inch. Holding her breath, she picked up the piece and yelped with joy. “Look! I did it, I did it!”

Dancing around the room, she held the piece so that her aunt could see the design in the center.

Her aunt’s eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

“What? Oh, it’s a leaf.”

“It looks like a vase.”

Kate examined the piece in her fingers and turned it. “That’s because you were looking at it upside down.”

Aunt Letty squinted for a closer look. “A leaf, eh?”

Kate shrugged. “Okay, the design still needs work. But it’s a start.”

“Yes, it is.” Aunt Letty shook her head, but she looked pleased. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you and your uncle were blood relatives.”

At the mention of her dear adoptive uncle, Kate sighed. “I just wish he were here.”

Her aunt’s face softened. “I have a feeling he’s looking down on us this very minute.”

Kate set the piece on a plate. “And probably laughing at my leaf.”

“Vase,” Aunt Letty said, and they both laughed.

“Oh my, look at the time,” her aunt exclaimed. “I’ll open the shop while you finish up here.”

By the time Kate had cut up the rest of the candy and cleaned the kitchen, the store was filled with customers. Unfortunately, Kate’s candy got nowhere near as much attention as yesterday’s train robbery.

Brett walked in, and Kate’s heart skipped a beat.

“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he said.

Touched by his concern, she drew in her breath. “Thank you, I’m fine.” The candy shop was her refuge, and no matter what happened, she always found comfort there.

Lucky Lou pulled his dog away from the display case and tutted. “Honestly, I don’t know what the world is coming to. It’s getting so you can’t leave the house for fear of being robbed.”

“Ah, but I have just the solution for that,” Harvey Wells said and held up what looked like a woman’s purse. He waited until he had everyone’s attention. “Let’s say you’re out shopping. Suddenly, a man comes up to you and points a gun at your head.” He indicated that with a pointed finger to his temple.

A couple of women gasped and, reminded of the holdup, Kate ran her hands up and down her arms.

“Ah, but not to fear, ladies,” Harvey said in his best peddler voice. “When he tells you to hand over your purse, simply pull the string that’s attached to the handle, and there you have it!” He yanked on the string and the bottom of the purse opened, allowing the contents to drop to the floor. “The thief won’t want to stick around long enough to pick things off the ground. He’ll take off, and your valuables will be safe.”

As he was explaining his invention, Ringo pulled his leash out of Lucky Lou’s hand, snatched the roll of money that had fallen from the purse, and ran.

“Hey, come back with that!” Harvey yelled.

Lucky Lou and the other men tried to corner the dog, but when another customer walked into the shop, Ringo escaped through the open door.

Harvey chased the dog outside, waving his hands and yelling at the top of his lungs, “Stop, thief!” The other customers spilled out of the shop like ants scrambling out of a nest, all of them shouting. Even Aunt Letty joined the pursuit.

Kate burst into laughter. She couldn’t help it. All those people running after a single dog was just too funny for words. Brett, however, didn’t seem to see the humor. Instead, he stood watching Lucky Lou through the window.

“What’s he doing?” he asked.

Kate walked around the counter to join him. “He’s trying to call Ringo back. That’s a dog whistle he’s blowing.”

“Dog whistle?”

“It’s another one of Harvey’s inventions,” she said. “But this one seems to work.”

“Work how?”

“Harvey said that dogs can hear the high-pitched sound, even though we can’t.”

Brett met her gaze, a faint light twinkling in their depths. “You mean Wells actually came up with an invention that works?”

“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” Kate bent over to pick up the keys and other things that had fallen out of Harvey’s purse. “Of course, it wasn’t his idea,” she added, placing the objects on the counter. “But the original whistle is too bulky to carry around. Harvey took that same idea and created a whistle that fits in a pocket.”

Just then, Ringo returned. Tail wagging, the dog bounced around the wooden sidewalk before standing on hind legs to greet his owner.

“See?” Kate said. “Works every time.”

But Brett was no longer watching Harvey; his gaze was fixed solely on her.

“Kate…” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for putting you in danger. I would never have suggested Foster take you to Austin if I thought something would happen.”

She blinked. “It was your idea?”

A pained expression crossed his face. “I wanted you out of town. I worried that the Ghost Riders would figure out the part you’d played in their capture. I also knew that Foster planned to propose. It seemed like a good idea on both accounts.” He splayed his hands. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

She stared at him. He had known Frank would propose? Fighting the hurt inside, she lashed out. “Oh, I’m sure you are. Then you would no longer have to feel guilty for breaking us up!”

Leaning back as if he’d been slapped, he gave her a puzzled look. “I…I thought that’s what you wanted. You and Foster.”

For some reason, she couldn’t admit to having feelings for a man who didn’t return the favor. Maybe it was pride. Or maybe she was simply trying to protect herself. In any case, she hid her true feelings behind a mask of indifference.

“Of course it’s what we want,” she said, the words feeling like acid on her lips.

Before Brett could respond, the door to the shop flew open, and Aunt Letty returned, shaking her head. “That darn dog’s back, but we don’t know what he did with the money.”

Kate struggled for control. “Oh dear.”

Brett backed toward the door. “I…I better be going.” Bidding her aunt a brusque goodbye, he left.

Aunt Letty studied Kate with a suspicious gleam in her eyes. “Did I interrupt something?”

“What?”

“You and the cowboy looked mighty serious when I walked in. Did I interrupt something?”

Kate glanced out the window, but Brett had already vanished from sight. Ignoring the squeezing pain inside, she shook her head. “No, not a thing.”

* * *

After shooting out of the candy shop like a rattler out of a box, Brett headed for Foster’s Saddle and Leather Shop.

He’d been so close, so very, very close, to asking Kate if she really meant what she’d said about wanting to marry Foster. Had her aunt not walked in, he would have done just that.

Did she love him with her whole heart and soul? Did she count the days, the minutes, the seconds until Foster’s ring would be back on her finger? Did she want to spend the rest of her life as Mrs. Frank Foster?

Foster was convinced that she did. Had told Brett as much.

But sometimes when Brett looked deep into her eyes, he could swear he saw flames of desire directed at him. He even caught glimpses of what looked suspiciously like the stirrings of something deeper for him and him alone.

Was it only wishful thinking on his part? Was he only seeing what he wanted to see? Probably.

Thank God, her aunt had arrived in time. She’d saved him from being a bigger fool than he already was. But he still wasn’t out of danger. Not yet.

Foster had sent a note to the boardinghouse saying he wanted to see him. He’d made it sound urgent. Brett walked up the steps of the boardwalk. It’d better be about the train robbery. Maybe Foster had recalled some vital clue. Just don’t let it be about Kate.

Any hope that Foster had summoned him to talk about the holdup died the moment Brett walked through the door. Foster greeted him with a wild look, waving his arms like a madman.

“Take her to a play, you said. Propose to her as the sun goes done, you said.” Foster’s eyes blazed with fury. “What could possibly go wrong?”

“Okay, now calm down—”

“Calm down!” Foster stared at him from behind a half-finished saddle. He didn’t have any welts or spots, but his face was purple with rage. “Is that all you can say? Don’t you understand? They stole my ring.”

“So you said.” Brett rubbed the back of his neck and tried to think. “You have the worst luck of anyone I’ve ever known.”

“Yeah, and it all started the day you blew into town. That’s it. I’m not listening to you anymore.” He motioned with his hand. “We’re done. Finished.”

Brett couldn’t blame him for feeling as he did. Not one bit. He had made a mess of things. But stopping Foster’s wedding was the least of it. Brett’s feelings for Kate had now reached mammoth proportions. He’d tried fighting them, ignoring them, and denying them, but it was no use.

He lowered his voice, hoping Foster would do likewise. “Okay, forget the ring for a second. Do you think Kate was going to…you know…say yes?”

Foster looked at him as if he were out of his mind. “Of course she would have said yes. How could she not? I sat through the worst jibber-jabber known to mankind.” He raised his eyes to the ceiling. “If I never hear another word of Shakespeare, it will be too soon.”

Brett’s spirits sank. He hated the part of him that wanted—hoped—to hear doubt in Foster’s voice. See doubt on his face. In his eyes. Instead, Foster sounded completely confident. “Are…are you sure?”

“Sure, I’m sure. A man knows these things. Had it not been for the holdup—”

“I know, I know.” Brett rubbed his head. Was it possible to feel any worse? Any lower as a human being? Any more disgusted with himself for wanting Kate to himself?

Foster let out a long moan. “I can’t propose till I order a new ring.” He tossed a nod at the mail-order catalog on the counter. “And that could take weeks.”

Brett picked up the catalog and thumbed through the pages. Something tiptoed on the edge of his consciousness, a memory that continued to tease even as it refused to materialize.

Shrugging the thought away, he studied each ring in turn. Solitary diamond rings were interspersed with elaborate filigree rings embedded with rubies, emeralds, and sapphires. It wasn’t hard to envision how each ring would look on Kate’s dainty hand. One particular ring caught his attention. The rose-gold ring held a solitary diamond surrounded by little pieces of sapphire the exact color of Kate’s eyes.

Brett abruptly closed the catalog and tossed it aside. The last thing he wanted was to help Foster pick out a ring for Kate. He pulled out his money clip and peeled off several bills.

“Here.” He slapped the money on the counter.

Foster frowned. “What’s that for?”

“I’m partly to blame for the theft of the ring. The least I can do is help you pay for a new one.” With that, he stalked out of the shop.

He’d hoped that paying for the ring would relieve him of his responsibility and he could put the matter out of his mind. But the truth was, it only made matters worse. For now, he would have to live with the fact that he had helped pay to put another man’s ring on Kate’s finger.