Chapter Twenty
Thursday came sooner than Cash expected. He’d wanted to talk to Alison at Bull and Lydia’s party, definitely sooner than waiting four days. Then he’d gotten the telegram. Fifty hours later, he tossed out the last of his cold coffee and strapped his gun belt around his waist.
A cool breeze washed across Cash’s face as he stepped outside. Shoving his hands in his coat pockets, he walked down the narrow street separating the row of houses from the businesses. Besides the house he and Beau rented, Gabe and Lena lived in one while their home was being built, the school teacher lived in another, Betts and her husband were in the one behind their restaurant, and one stood vacant behind the bank. Taking the narrow walkway between buildings, Cash stepped onto the boardwalk, stopping at Alison’s front door.
Grasping the doorknob, he twisted, hearing the overhead bell chime when he stepped inside. He looked around, sucking in a breath when he saw Alison sitting at her sewing machine. Other than the two of them, the store was empty.
Alison looked up, a tentative smile tilting up the corners of her mouth. “I’m almost finished. Would you like some coffee while you wait?”
Clearing his throat, Cash shook his head. “Uh…no thanks. Take your time.” He wandered about the room, feigning interest in the finished women’s hats and rolls of fabric, thinking he’d rather be anywhere than here. He knew the conversation they were about to have wouldn’t end well.
Then his gaze lit on a stunning dress of embroidered green silk, prompting a slight grin. “Is this Lydia’s wedding dress?”
Glancing up, Alison stood and walked to him. “Yes. I hadn’t planned on starting it this week, but I couldn’t sleep the last two nights and it seemed like a good way to pass the time.”
“It’s beautiful.”
Alison felt her face heat at his compliment. “Thank you. She’ll make a gorgeous bride.” Clasping her hands in front of her, she rocked back on her heels. “I’m finished with my work. Do you still want to talk?”
“That’s why I’m here.” He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh.
The tightness in his voice startled her. “All right. Shall we go upstairs?”
“Wherever you’d be most comfortable.”
She rubbed the back of her neck in an attempt to relieve the stiffness from working so many hours.
“Are you sore?” Cash stepped behind her, moving her hand aside as he began to massage the tight muscles.
She moaned as his hands worked their magic on her neck and back.
“Am I rubbing too hard?” Cash’s fingers stilled.
“No. It feels wonderful.” She sighed, tipping her head forward, letting her shoulders relax.
“That’s it, Allie.” He breathed in her scent, closing his eyes as he continued to work her muscles. Without thinking, he bent to brush a kiss across her neck, then froze when he remembered the reason for his visit. Dropping his hands, he stepped away. “Better?”
Turning, she saw Cash stiffen and wondered what was going through his mind.
“Yes. Thank you.” Smoothing her hands down the folds of her dress, Alison caught her lower lip between her teeth, her brows knitting together. “I suppose we might as well get to the reason you’re here.” She gestured to a pair of chairs several feet away. “I’ll be right back.”
Cash watched as she dashed up the stairs. Instead of sitting down, he crossed his arms and leaned against the large table she used to cut fabric. He didn’t want to get too comfortable or settle into a cozy conversation. Hearing her reasons for hiding behind a false identity and coming to Splendor were critical. Learning why she allowed him to make love to her, knowing he’d discover her deception, might soothe his bruised ego, but would do nothing to lessen his suspicions about her. The sound of footfalls drew his attention to the stairs.
“I thought you might want to try this.” Clasping a glass in each hand, she held one out to him, smiling as he took his time studying the liquid inside each glass. “I’m not trying to poison you. It’s the apple wine I told you about.”
Taking the glass, he held it up to study the slightly cloudy liquid, then sniffed the contents, his lips twisting into a wry grin. “Doesn’t smell too bad.”
“Too bad? I believe I should be offended.” Her voice trembled as she failed to hide her anxiety about Cash’s reason for coming by. She thought the wine would be a peace offering. Now all she wanted was to get this over with and send him on his way. “How about I take a sip first?”
Narrowing his gaze, he chuckled, bringing the glass to his lips. Taking a swallow, he worked to conceal a grimace.
“Well?” Alison prompted.
“Not bad.” He took one more sip, then set the glass on the table. “It’s a little sweet for me.” His expression changed, the amusement in his eyes gone. “We need to talk, Allie.” He waited for her to take a seat, then moved his chair closer and sat down. “I need to know who you really are and why you came to Splendor.”
Placing her glass next to Cash’s, she clasped her hands in her lap. “All right. My name is—”
The bell over the door startled her as Bernie Griggs shoved it open and dashed inside, his breath coming in gasps. “Beau said you’d be here, Cash. He needs you to come quick. The prisoners are causing trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” Cash stood, sending a frustrated glance at Alison.
Bernie glanced at Alison, then back at Cash, lowering his voice. “One of the miners is dead.”
Cash burst through the jail door, coming to a stop at the sight of Doc Worthington kneeling next to a motionless body.
“What the hell happened?”
Beau stood a couple feet away, shifting his gaze between the inert body and the men still confined behind bars. “Two of the prisoners got into an argument. By the time I got back here, Galt had his hands around the man’s neck. I pulled my gun, ordering him to stop. Instead, he tightened his hold, then shoved the man against the wall. As he fell, his head hit the edge of the bed frame. According to Doc, the blow to his head is what killed him.”
“Where’s Gabe?”
“He and Lena are having supper with Noah and Abby. I knew you were close, so I asked Bernie to get you first, then Gabe.” Beau relaxed for a moment, his features softening. “I think Bernie likes helping us out. Gets him out of the Western Union office for a while.” He smiled, remembering how Bernie’s face lit up when he asked him for help.
“What happened?” Gabe walked in and shrugged out of his jacket, looking at the body.
“The man died from a blow to his head.” Doc continued putting his instruments away, not looking at Gabe. “I’ll need help getting him to the clinic.”
“Beau and I will follow you over, Doc.” Cash took the man’s legs while Beau grabbed the shoulders. “Be careful, Gabe. Galt’s the one who killed him. We’ll come back and sort out what to do.”
“Take your time. They aren’t going anywhere.” Gabe took a quick look at the cells to see Galt in a whispered conversation with another prisoner. “Move away, Galt, or I’ll take you out and chain you to a post.”
Storming to the bars, Galt wrapped his hands around them, his face contorted in rage. “You’ll pay for putting us in here, Evans.”
“No, Galt.” He nodded toward the blood on the cell floor. “You’ll be the one paying, and it will be my pleasure to watch.”
“I need to talk to you after we check back with Gabe.” Cash walked beside Beau as they returned from delivering the body.
“We can talk at the jail.”
“No. Alone.” Cash didn’t like keeping anything from Gabe, yet he needed to talk to Beau, tell him what he’d learned about Alison. He’d allowed himself to get too close to her, build feelings he should’ve ignored until he knew more about her. Desire overcame common sense. Passion overcame restraint.
Beau studied Cash, seeing concern etched deep in the lines of his face. “How long since you’ve slept?”
“Lack of sleep isn’t important right now.” Cash stepped onto the boardwalk, stopping at the door to the jail.
“We’ll encourage Gabe to go home to Lena. We can talk in the front and still keep watch on Galt and the others.”
Cash nodded, then walked inside. “Doc’s taking care of the body. Why don’t you head home to Lena?”
“Cash and I will watch the prisoners.” Beau took a look in the back. All seemed quiet.
Standing, Gabe picked up his hat. “If you don’t mind, I’ll accept the offer.”
They waited a few minutes, then settled into chairs. Beau rested his arms on the desk and leaned forward. “What do you want to talk about?”
“We didn’t have a chance to talk last night,” Cash whispered in Alison’s ear, causing her to flinch.
Whipping around, she placed a hand on her chest. “Cash, you startled me.”
“Mrs. Burns? You’re next.”
Alison turned back to face the open teller window.
“I’ll wait for you outside.” Cash didn’t linger, not wanting to draw Horace Clausen’s attention. A few minutes later she joined him, opening her parasol to shield her face from the morning sun.
“Did you take care of the crisis? I believe Bernie said you had a dead man at the jail.” She started walking down the boardwalk toward the opposite end of town, Cash keeping pace beside her.
“It wasn’t a crisis, but there was a body. Doc had already arrived by the time I got there.”
Stopping, she shifted to look up at him. “I would think any killing would be considered a crisis.”
Knowing her secret, the meaning of her statement was clear. As she started walking again, it took all his restraint not to grab her by the shoulders and shake the confession out of her.
“Any death is tragic, Alison. Most don’t create a crisis.”
She stopped at the end of the boardwalk, sucking in a breath. “When do you want to talk?”
“Close the shop tomorrow. We’ll go to the cabin at Survivor Pass so we won’t be interrupted.” Seeing the skepticism on her face, he clarified. “Talk only. Nothing more.”
Her expression changed for a brief moment. Cash wasn’t sure if he saw pain or relief flash across her face.
She looked down at the ground and nodded. “I’ll need a horse.”
“I’ve already spoken with Noah about you riding Joker again. I’ll be by mid-morning.”
Alison knew she should refuse. She owed him nothing—had no reason to tell him the truth and expose the reasons for her lies. Although he hadn’t said it, she believed he’d already made up his mind about them and would no longer be courting her. Keeping her secret was the safest decision for her.
“I don’t know, Cash. What happened between us can’t be changed. It would be best to forget it entirely.”
“Believe me, that will not happen. We can meet tonight at your shop, where we might be interrupted, or we can ride out to the cabin. You choose, but you are going to talk to me.”
Letting out a deep sigh, she nodded. “I’ll see you at the shop tomorrow morning.”
“Here’s how it’s going to be. We take care of both men tomorrow.” Milt didn’t ask for his brother’s thoughts or anyone’s approval. If they didn’t like the way he ran the gang, they could confront him. Or they could leave, but they wouldn’t be riding out alive.
Harry walked up to him, crossed his arms, and fixed him with a hard stare. “How do you expect to kill both when we don’t know where they’ll be?”
“We know. Monty says Noah Brandt works a few hours on Saturdays, then goes home.”
“He always leaves at ten o’clock.” Monty stepped up next to his brothers, not wanting either’s temper to explode.
“We’ll get Brandt as he rides up the hill to his house. There’s good cover and places where we can position more than one man.” Milt’s smug grin grated on Harry, but he held his tongue. “I’ll send Louis and Clem. They’re the best shots and are fast riders. After they do their job, they’ll meet the rest of the boys on the trail back to Big Pine.”
“And Coulter?”
“You, Monty, and I will set up a surprise at the shack for the deputy. Monty says he rides out after meeting with the sheriff and making his rounds.”
“He usually leaves town not long after Brandt closes the livery. I watched both of them for weeks and they seldom change.”
“Good job, kid.” Milt slapped his youngest brother on the back.
Monty nodded, the haughty grin on his face reminding Harry of Chet. The thought sent a chill through him.
“Sounds like you have it all covered.” Harry’s gut reaction warned him they’d missed something, but he knew there’d be no changing Milt’s mind.
“See, Harry. You gotta have more faith in me. Chet never did and look where it got him.”
Harry ignored the comment. Even though Chet was a true S.O.B., he had his reasons for never listening to Milt. “If you’re satisfied with what Monty’s told you, I can’t argue.”
“The boy’s done good.” Milt shot a look at Monty. “You want to be the one to take care of Coulter?”
“Hell yes. Bobby was the best friend I ever had. It’s my job to make things right.”
“You sure about that, Monty? As I recall, you’ve never killed a man. Are you sure you want to start with a lawman?” Harry knew that as much as Monty wanted to be like Milt, he also had an aversion to killing. Squeamish was what Chet used to call it. He never trusted Monty with a job that might end up in a shootout, saying he couldn’t depend on him to finish someone off.
“I’ll start with Bobby’s killer. I don’t care if he’s a deputy or not. He deserves to die.”
Harry lowered his gaze to the ground and shook his head. “If that’s what you want. When do we ride out, Milt?”
“Right after we eat in the morning.” He looked at the rest of the gang standing around them, listening. “Afterwards, we meet the rest of the boys on the trail, ride to Big Pine, and relieve the bank of its burden of guarding so much cash.”
“Then on to California, right, Milt?” Monty’s eager face didn’t show a trace of fear, not even with what lay ahead of him.
“Yeah, kid.” Milt clasped him on the shoulder. “Then we ride to California.”