The Marshal and Miss Merritt Page 15

  Her concern growing, she made her way back across the tracks with Bowie. Even if he was ready to give up, she wasn’t.

  They halted between the general store and Rosa’s Boutique. Bowie braced his hands on his hips, his gaze scanning the street. “Where else should we look?”

  “You’re not giving up?”

  “No. We haven’t found him yet.” He glanced down at her. “Would he stay anywhere outside of town?”

  “Maybe. It can’t hurt to look.”

  They stopped at the boardinghouse so Merritt could change into her split skirt. While she did, Bowie saddled Mr. Wilson’s mare for her. Mounted on his black gelding, he was waiting in front of the boardinghouse with the mare.

  They rode north, stopping along the way to call out for the missing man. They guided their mounts down a wooded hillside to a lush valley and reined up at Phantom Springs, which was less than a mile from town. Water bubbled up from a jumble of rocks and flowed across flat slabs of shale, past the rapids to slowly move southeast and supply water for Cahill Crossing.

  Typically, Merritt loved it here. The murmur of the water over the rapids sounded like whispering voices, which had prompted its name. The peaceful spot never failed to bring a smile, but today she paid more attention to the surrounding hillside and a craggy rock formation some distance away along the bank.

  “Lefty!” Bowie called out.

  She turned her horse to face the opposite direction of Bowie’s, also yelling for her friend.

  “Here I am!”

  A thrill shot through her as she wheeled her mount around. Stooping, Lefty made his way out from under a rock overhang.

  “Oh!” Merritt cried.

  Bowie was there to help her dismount and she hurried down the bank to the other man. “I was so worried!”

  “I’m sorry.” He sent a sheepish look Bowie’s way. “Sorry, Marshal.”

  “Just glad you’re all right,” Bowie said.

  Merritt looked Lefty up and down, noting sunburned skin beneath the growth of several days’ worth of whiskers. “You are okay, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. Is everything okay with you?”

  “It is now. Have you been out here the entire time since I last saw you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Why?” she asked softly as Bowie walked up beside her.

  Lefty looked at the marshal, then back at Merritt. “I haven’t had a drink in six days.”

  “You’re trying to quit!”

  He nodded.

  Merritt smiled up at Bowie, who glanced around. “Did you walk out here from town, Lefty?”

  “Yes, it isn’t too far.” He turned his attention back to Merritt, squinting. “I had to get away from the saloons.”

  “Makes sense,” Bowie said.

  “I’m so proud of you.” Merritt squeezed the older man’s arm. “But I don’t like you being out here alone. Please come back with us.”

  Bowie touched her arm, silently communicating that her friend might need more time.

  She nodded. “Unless you don’t feel you should leave yet.”

  Lefty hesitated. “I think I can.”

  “Good.” She smiled. “We’ll get you back to the Morning Glory and get some food in you.”

  “Thank you, Miss Merritt.”

  She patted his arm. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”

  The three of them walked back to the horses. Bowie lifted her into the saddle, squeezing her knee and giving her a smile that warmed her all over.

  Lefty mounted up behind the marshal and the three of them headed back to town.

  Unable to stop looking at Bowie, Merritt kept her mare slightly behind his black gelding as they wove in and out of the shade trees on the hillside. The man had helped her look for someone who most lawmen probably wouldn’t have given the time of day. Not once had he suggested she just wait for Lefty to show up. Bowie had put aside whatever he was doing to help her. She hadn’t expected that.

  Maybe he was so driven by his job because his current investigation was personal. His ex-fiancée might have thought Bowie wasn’t enough for her, but he was plenty for Merritt. Clea had been a fool. Merritt didn’t want to look back and wonder if she had been one, too.

  When he had confided in her about Clea, Merritt had felt that connection to him again. It had also made her wonder if she had ever made Seth feel like a lesser man. She hoped not. Even though his job frustrated her, she had loved her husband.

  Her gaze settled on Bowie’s broad shoulders and the biceps flexing beneath the snug fit of his white shirt. Thank goodness he had been the one to find her the other night when she had broken into Hobbs’s house. She had no idea what she would have done if Hobbs had shown up instead of Bowie.

  They reached Cahill Crossing right before suppertime. The three of them ate together at the boardinghouse, Bowie and Lefty finishing off the roast and potatoes. Mr. Wilson had sent word that he was working late at the newspaper.

  After visiting for a few minutes, Bowie rose, giving her a broad smile. “Another good meal.”

  “I have pecan pie,” she said.

  “I need to get back to the jail and finish what I was doing earlier.”

  “Let me wrap up a piece for you to take.”

  “I won’t say no to that.”

  The heat in his blue eyes had Merritt wishing he could stay longer, but she went to the kitchen and returned with his dessert.

  Lefty began stacking dishes. “Don’t you worry about this, Miss Merritt. I’ll clean up.”

  “Thank you.” She walked with Bowie to the front door, stepping back when he opened it. A glance over her shoulder showed that the other man had gone into the kitchen. “Thank you so much for helping me find him. I know you were busy.”

  “You were really worried.”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t like it.”

  His gruff declaration had her smiling. Merritt knew then that she was going to go along with his suggestion. It didn’t matter that she was still questioning the wisdom of getting involved with him. She smiled and rose on tiptoe, bringing his head down for a quick kiss.

  His eyes darkened, his free hand going to her waist. “What was that for?”

  “For helping me find Lefty.”

  Mischief lighting his eyes, he grinned. “Anything else I can do to help you?”

  She kissed him again, longer this time.

  He groaned. “I wish this was your way of telling me you’ve thought about what I said and you’re willing to give us a try.”

  “It is— Oh!”

  He lifted her with one arm, setting his cloth-wrapped pie on the windowsill. His other arm came around her. “You sure?”

  “Not a hundred percent.” She looked into his eyes, drawing in his masculine scent, feeling every inch of him down to her button-up boots. “But I can’t ignore it anymore. I need to know.”

  Fierce desire flared in his eyes as he kicked the door shut and kissed her until she was dizzy.

  Even though being in his arms felt right, Merritt hoped she hadn’t made a mistake.

  Chapter Ten

  The next day, Merritt awoke impatient to see Bowie and it had nothing to do with the two-hour walk they had taken by the river last night after he had finished his work at the jail.

  Though she had enjoyed herself and she thought he had, too, they had been careful of each other. Merritt still wasn’t sure getting involved was a good idea and she knew Bowie didn’t want to rush anything, even though it had been his idea that they explore what was between them.

  That, along with the hunt for Lefty, had driven all thought of her missing handkerchief out of her mind. She planned to inform Bowie this morning at breakfast, but Lefty and Mr. Wilson joined them.

  Once finished, Bowie said he would see her for lunch, then left at the same time as Mr. Wilson.

  While Lefty cleared the table and brought the dishes into the kitchen, Merritt began washing the bread pans, egg beater and skillet. Anxious t
o talk to Bowie as soon as possible, she scrubbed everything hurriedly, moving on to the dishes.

  Lefty had shaved and combed his hair. Washing the china plates as quickly as she could while still being careful, she only then noticed the neatness of his brown-checked shirt and tan trousers.

  “You look very handsome today.”

  His neck turned red as he set down a stack of coffee cups. “I got a job.”

  “You did?” She rinsed the ham platter and laid it on a towel covering the counter beside her. “I’m glad to hear it. What will you be doing?”

  “Mr. Stokes said he would let me work at the general store. If I’m not serious about quitting the drink, I’ll lose the job.”

  “I think you’re serious,” she encouraged.

  “Thank you,” he said gruffly.

  She picked up another towel and began to dry the plates. “I’m glad he’s giving you a chance.” Merritt paused at the look on her friend’s face, half uncertainty and half excitement. “That’s good. Isn’t it?”

  “Yes, ma’am, and I appreciate it. Once I get my first pay, I plan to give you some rent.”

  “That isn’t necessary, Lefty.”

  “I want to. You’ve taken real good care of me.” He stacked the clean plates and took them into the dining room to store in the sideboard. “I don’t want to take advantage.”

  “You’re not. Besides, I like having you here.”

  Stepping back into the kitchen, he looked down. “I don’t want to live on charity anymore.”

  Merritt could see it was a matter of pride. “All right.”

  “I can only afford the spare room, so I’ll stay there unless you’d rather I find another place.”

  “Absolutely not! And I have two bigger rooms upstairs that are empty.”

  “If I stay in the smaller one, I can save a little money.”

  Merritt stopped to look at him. “You’ve thought this out.”

  He nodded, seeming to hesitate before saying, “I want my wife and family back.”

  Her heart ached. “Have you been in contact with them?”

  “Not yet. I don’t want to wire them until I can say I’m sober and have a job.”

  Warmth welled inside her and she gave him a quick hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

  He gave a sheepish laugh. “I haven’t done it yet.”

  “But you will. I just know it.”

  “I’d better get going or Mr. Stokes will fire me on my first day.”

  “Thanks for helping me with the dishes.” She dried her hands on her apron, then took it off and laid it on the counter. The older man had one foot out the side door when she asked, “Lefty, have you seen my handkerchief? It’s a new one with my initials embroidered in red, white and blue.”

  “No, ma’am, but I can help you look.”

  “Thank you, but I’ve already looked everywhere. I’m afraid to think where it might be.” She literally was afraid. “You go on to work and have a good day.”

  “You, too.”

  Her day would be much better if she could locate that blasted handkerchief. Every time she thought about it, she became more convinced that she had lost it in Hobbs’s house and he’d found it, even though she didn’t have a single thing to back up that opinion. The idea tied her stomach in knots. She hated to think what he might do if he discovered she’d been in his house.

  If he had found the handkerchief, surely he would’ve made that known by now. Perhaps by having her arrested for breaking in!

  This was ridiculous. She was worrying herself sick. The sooner she talked to Bowie, the better.

  Nerves wound tight, she grabbed a flat-brimmed straw hat from her room, putting it on as she walked across the dining area. She opened the front door. And stopped short at the sight of Tobias Hobbs.

  Her stomach dropped to her feet. Why was he here?

  The former marshal swept off his bowler hat, keeping one hand behind his back. “Good morning, Mrs. Dixon.”

  “Mr. Hobbs.” Dread crept up her spine and she tried to keep her voice casual. “What brings you by?”

  Her pulse was racing. All she could think was that he’d found her handkerchief. Her knees nearly buckled when he brought a bouquet of wildflowers from behind his back, presenting them with a flourish.

  “I haven’t seen you since the Fourth of July celebration and wanted to stop by. Looks like I just caught you leaving.”

  “Um, yes.” Her relief over not being confronted about being in his house diminished as she tried to determine if there were any undertones in his words. Did it mean anything that he had specifically mentioned the festivities of the other night?

  “I won’t take up much of your time.” His smile seemed genuine as he handed her the bouquet. “These are accompanied by an invitation to dinner tonight.”

  “Oh.” She took the flowers, gripped the bunched stems hard. Earlier in the week, she had not only declined his invitation to the Independence Day celebration, but also a request to attend church with him.

  She knew Bowie wanted her to treat Hobbs as usual if she could manage it. She would try. “Thank you, Tobias. Let me put these in water before I leave.”

  Hoping he would take the hint that she had no time to visit, she sighed inwardly when he stepped over the threshold. His dark gaze followed her as she moved to the sideboard and found a vase in the cabinet. After pumping some water into the glass container, she arranged the blooms inside.

  “Did you enjoy the fireworks the other night?”

  “I did.” More about that? Forcing a smile, she turned.

  “I don’t remember seeing you after they were over.”

  She tensed. Was he merely making a statement or did he know that the reason he hadn’t seen her was because she had been behind his house with Bowie? The mild look in his eyes didn’t tell her a thing.

  “What do you say about dinner?”

  Wiping her suddenly sweaty palms surreptitiously on her skirts, she said pleasantly, “Thank you for asking, but I’m courting with someone.”

  Neither she nor Bowie had told anyone yet, but it wasn’t a secret.

  Surprise flared in Tobias’s dark eyes as he stroked his neat mustache. “Since Independence Day? This is recent.”

  “Yes.”

  “So, it isn’t serious yet.”

  “No.” Not yet.

  He nodded, walking outside, and stopped at the porch steps.

  She followed, nerves fluttering. Trying to act as she normally would, she said, “I heard you were now working at the freight office for Mr. Fitzgerald.”

  “Yes.” He smiled. “I don’t like it as well as I liked being marshal, but there’s more freedom.”

  Having been a lawman’s wife, Merritt knew that to certainly be true.

  “I haven’t been called upon in the middle of the night to address a problem.” He was certainly handling her refusal with grace. “May I ask who’s courting you?”

  The man didn’t appear threatening or even disgruntled. She and Bowie hadn’t agreed to see only each other, but Merritt had no interest in seeing anyone else, especially Hobbs.

  “It’s Bowie—I mean, Marshal Cahill.”

  “Ah.”

  What did that mean? For a second, Tobias’s eyes appeared to harden, but she couldn’t be sure because he chose that moment to tug his hat lower on his head, shading his eyes.

  “I won’t give up hope. Maybe one day you will accept my invitation.”

  He was going to keep asking? She forced a smile. “That’s very persistent.”

  He tipped his hat to her. “Have a good day, Miss Merritt.”

  “You, too. Thanks again for the flowers.” She waited until he had crossed the street and reached Town Square before closing and locking the front door.

  She rushed to see Bowie. She’d been plenty nervous about her handkerchief before Hobbs had shown up. Now she was even more so. He had knocked her off balance by showing up at her door. It wasn’t only his visit that had her stomach in knot
s. It was his conversation.

  She had gone from being certain that he had her handkerchief to believing he didn’t to wondering if he was toying with her. By the time she walked into the marshal’s office, her thoughts were a jumbled mess and her composure was frayed.

  Closing the door, she glanced back, relieved not to see Hobbs.

  “Hey.” Bowie rose and stepped out from behind his wide oak desk. Sunlight glinted off his badge.

  A light gray shirt stretched across shoulders as wide as the door, and the denims that fit indecently well showed off a flat, hard belly and powerful thighs.

  His blue eyes twinkled. “What are you doing here? I just saw you less than an hour ago. Not that I’m complaining.”

  Anxious and now slightly paranoid, her words rushed out. “I started over here to tell you about my handkerchief, then Lefty wanted to share some news, then Hobbs showed up and I’m afraid he knows.”

  “Whoa.” Bowie’s big hands closed over her shoulders. “Slow down, honey, and tell me what’s going on.”

  “I don’t mean to act like such a goose. I just—”

  She took a deep breath.

  “I’ve lost my handkerchief.”

  He waited expectantly.

  She glanced around his office. “Has anyone turned it in?”

  “No.”

  “I was afraid of that,” she said thickly, trying to choke back a fresh swell of panic.

  “Merritt.” He drew her closer, his steady gaze encouraging her to continue.

  She explained about the new handkerchief that she had tucked into the neckline of her new patriotic dress. “I realized yesterday that it was missing and I meant to mention it, but I was worried about Lefty.”

  “Okay.” Bowie remained patient. “I’d like to help you, but I’m not sure how.”

  “Oh, sorry.” Giving herself a mental shake, she said, “The last time I had it was at the Fourth of July celebration and I lost it that night.”

  “I don’t recall seeing it on you when we were behind Hobbs’s house.” His gaze sharpened. “And you think you lost it there?”

  “I don’t know! What if I did?”

  “Maybe you dropped it in town,” he offered reasonably. “It could’ve blown away.”