The Cowgirl Gets The Bad Guy (Cowgirl Mysteries Book 1) Page 2

  I twist my sisters to squish them back down after wrapping them in place beneath my camisole. I need more than a dress to show up at the church and the cash in my hand won’t cover a pair of drawers, let alone all the other frilly things to go along with it.

  Nope, if the gambler catches up to me, he’ll have to accept me for who I am, and I hope it is enough to change his mind.

  Instead of going to Grace’s for a dress, I went to see Mr. Jensen and pay for most of the list of goods I requested. All I need to do is get the supplies loaded, find my father, and hightail it out-of-town while the gambler before the gambler finds me.

  Part of me will miss seeing my best friend Ella Mae, but later I’ll explain, and she’ll understand. Her father is the preacher in Deadwood and I know the good reverend well enough to know without just cause, he wouldn’t force me to marry the gambler.

  All I need to do is get back to our claim and make sure our stake is secure. This isn’t the first time I’ve left a man standing at the altar. My father had been at fault then, too. Eventually, I’ll forgive him.

  But Tail Feathers and those in his tribe are depending on us to bring back these supplies wouldn’t be as forgiving. No tobacco, no keeping the chief and his tribe from crossing the reservation borders and raiding our place.

  If not for Stands With Two Deer, I would have taken off a long time ago.

  I spend the night hiding from the gambler. I’m sure Earl has retreated to a place no decent woman would dare go. Lucky for me, Ruby lets me in when she finds me at the back door. She even promises not to let anyone know I’m there. For all the gambler knows, I could be staying at the hotel.

  In the morning, I finish braiding my hair, look at myself in the mirror, and catch the sun peeking through the window at Ruby’s Boarding House. It’s time to get the show on the road.

  The first place I go to is the stables to get my wagon and ponies. Hank, the blacksmith, stirs up the fire of his forge. It’s barely the crack of dawn and the man has his shirt off. His big muscles flex as he breathes air into the forge to get the flames going. It’s enough to make me get hot and need to fan myself as I enter. The man is a sight to behold, and his wife is one lucky woman.

  It doesn’t take long to gather the ponies and wagon to park out in front of the mercantile. Thank goodness Hank demanded payment yesterday when my father and I dropped the ponies off. They’re big ponies, sturdy animals for climbing in the mountains. Their paint pattern of brown and white mistake them for a cow in the distance if not for their thick necks and long manes.

  “Them Indian ponies,” Hank asked when we first pull in with them. “You steal those off the reservation?”

  “Trapper from the other side of the mountain.” The answer my father gave satisfied Hank’s curiosity. Lots of people come to the gulch around Deadwood. Not too many stay long before they move on. Everyone heads to California for the gold. No one ever has the patience to wait out for the mother lode.

  I suppose we’re the dumb ones.

  Jensen isn’t open for another hour. Knowing Earl, he’s probably hung over somewhere around the saloon or the Swanson sisters’ place. I’m going to have to go searching for him. He never came back to the boarding house. Ruby rented out his room for the night when it got late, and she had a last-minute inquiry. She was kind enough to give me credit for another night’s stay for another time.

  After checking the usual places, I head to the sheriff’s office. Where else would a drunk go for the night to sleep it off?

  The sky turns a dusty pink, with a glare of gold washing across the rooftops of the town. People are coming out on the sidewalks, and I can smell the scent of grease and fried chicken at the diner.

  Grateful I’ve had my coffee; I hurry past the hotel and keep an eye out for my father and the gambler. I’m hope I run into the latter first. But as I’m not looking, I run straight into a solid body. I hear an ‘umph’ and two hands reach out to grab me. Otherwise, I’d have landed on my backside across the street from the hotel.

  Not looking where I am going and collide with the stormiest eyes I’ve ever seen. Oh, me, oh my, this man is handsome. His hat must have flown off as I ran into him, and it lies at my feet. He’s got long, shoulder-length dark brown hair. His jaw is rough and shy of a few days shave. I’m tempted to reach up and run my finger along the stubble.

  “Watch where you’re going.”

  “Well, that’s rude.” I say it out loud and cringe. One of these days I’ll learn to put a filter on my mouth. Ella Mae says people who are alone most of the time don’t know how to mind their manners as much. I don’t need manners to see this guy is trouble with a capital ’T’.

  Taking a step back, I reach down to get his hat for him. As I snap back up, my head hits his chin and sends him staggering.

  My hat flies back, and I’m thankful for the cords keeping it dangling at my neck. I rub my head and squint at him. Holding out the hat, I squeak, “Sorry.”

  “You’re a woman.”

  “You’re a man.” I straighten a little more and the guy’s chest puffs out. He’s wearing a long duster, and underneath I can’t help noticing this guy is packing some heat. My face turns hot as he snatches his hat from me and I almost trip again. I reach out, my hand grabbing, and he stops me before I get a hold of something below the belt. And what a big holster that is.

  I can almost feel the big guy upstairs frowning down on me. Where is Ella Mae with her Bible to thump me over the head when I need it?

  Ga! I clutch my arms around me as he plunks that hat dangerously low on his head. “You looking for the sheriff?”

  It takes a moment for his question to register through my mind. “The sheriff?”

  “You’re standing in front of the sheriff’s office.” He pulls back the side of his duster and plants a hand on the handle of a gun. More from habit, I surmise than a threat, but dang, the man could make a girl swoon this early in the morning if not for having her coffee first.

  Where’s a lace fan when you need one?

  I lick my lips and feign stupidity. Somehow, though, I’m not sure if it works on a guy like him. Those penetrating grey eyes darken and a riot breaks out inside my chest.

  “Oh, no.” I shake my head. “I’m not looking for the sheriff. I mean. I am. Maybe.” I take a deep breath and try again. “What I mean is I’m looking for my father. I think the sheriff might have him locked up.”

  What every girl wants to admit when she first meets a man. I suppose I’ll have to listen more to when Ella Mae tries to grace me with advice on relationships. One day, she’ll make some man a good wife.

  I can only hope someday I will too, but if history is any sign, I fear I’ll be just like my mother.

  The man stands in front of the sheriff’s office and doesn’t move.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to see the sheriff,” I say.

  “There’s no one in there.”

  I try to look through the windows. “How do you know?”

  He pulls out a cigar and lights it. I cough and wave away the smoke.

  “It’s kind of early for that, isn’t it?”

  He puffs creating a big plume of smoke and grins. “He’s down behind the saloon. Someone found a body.”

  Behind the saloon. A body.

  “And you know this because?” I ask.

  He clamps down on his cigar for a moment. Once he pulls it free of his mouth, he says, “I’m waiting for him to get back and pay my bounty.” He points to the horses tied to the post in front of him. On the back of one is a bundle hanging over the saddle. I shudder stepping back. I’m pretty sure that’s no sack of supplies and with the man announcing there’s another body down by the saloon, I pivot and start running.

  About to turn the corner between the saloon and the barbershop, a hand reaches out and grabs my shoulder.

  “Hey there. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  I’m trembling and I can’t stop. I don’t know why, but all I can think of is my
father. I turn again to run to the back of the saloon.

  Sheriff Bentely looks at me and steps away from the body. All I can see are a pair of tattered pants and a boot with a worn toe so thin it could fall apart at any moment.

  I know before he even says a word. I know before those empathic eyes round on me. I know, because I’ve been telling my father he needs a new pair of boots for weeks and he promised we’d have enough money for all our needs this trip into town.

  My heart skips a beat and another. My hands slap over my mouth, but the scream escapes before I can stop it. A pair of muscular arms gather around me and force me to turn away. The smell of tobacco and jerky greet me. It’s sweet, unlike the bitter smells of the pipes and tobacco Tail Feathers and his people imbibe upon.

  I cry into the bounty hunter’s cloth covered chest.

  By the time I turn around, my father’s body is gone and so is the sheriff. Above us, while the sun rises, my entire world flips.

  Someone rubs my back. Those hands massage a trail up and down my spine, causing me to moan and shiver.

  The hands stop and rest on my waist. I pull back, swiping at the aftermath of the flood on my face. It’s the stormy-eyed cowboy from in front of the sheriff’s office.

  “I’m sorry about your loss,” he says.

  “Where did they go?” My voice rasps from sobbing.

  “They took him to the undertaker down the street. The sheriff said not to leave town. He’ll need to question you.”

  How had he said all those things, and I hadn’t heard him?

  “My father’s d-dead?” It isn’t so much a question for him as a reality check for me.

  “Man was shot.”

  With that bit of information, I press my hands to my heart. “Someone killed him.”

  “Any idea who?”

  I shake my head.

  “No one threatened him recently?” Those hands trail down my arms and send zings beneath the skin.

  “Besides me?”

  Did I just confess? My hand flies up and covers my mouth.

  His brows furrow.

  Slowly, I uncover my mouth. “I was mad at him, but I didn’t mean it. I didn’t do this.” I try to think who would have done this. Oh, yes! “The gambler! He cheated. My father said so. He was going to go after him. It had to be him.”

  “What gambler?”

  “What time is it?” Oh, this shouldn’t be happening.

  “The sun’s up. Maybe eight or so.” He slips his arm around me. “Come on, I’ll walk with you to see the sheriff and you can tell me about this gambler.”

  I don’t know why I spill everything to this man. I don’t even know his name. I feel like I’ve known him forever, and he’s not even the least bit scary to me. Although I think a lot of other people find the gunslinging cowboy intimidating.

  When I finish telling him about the poker game, I say, “Maybe you can help me.”

  “Help you?”

  “You can say you’re my husband and he’ll leave me alone.”

  The cowboy stops short of the sheriff’s office. “I’m only here for my bounty,” he says.

  Inside the sheriff’s office, Sheriff Bentely waves another man out. I know the man. I’ve seen him in the church on the Sundays I’ve been in town. Perhaps Ella Mae will know his name. Not that it’s important right at this moment.

  Sheriff Bentely offers me a seat. “I’m sorry for your loss, miss. If you sit here a moment, I’ll take care of getting Chord his reward and he’ll be on his way so we can talk.”

  “Take your time, Sheriff. The young lady and I have already spoken about what might have happened.”

  “Using your charm with the ladies again, Chord?” Sheriff Bentely chuckles. He goes over to his desk, signs a wanted poster and hands it to Chord. “They’ll take care of you over at the bank. I don’t keep that kind of cash here around criminals.”

  The bounty hunter takes the wanted poster and rolls it up. He tips his hat my way and heads out of the office. I almost want to call him back. What for? This man and I hardly know each other.

  “Who was that man?”

  “Chord?” Sheriff Bentely takes a seat by the window and looks out on the street. “I’d stay away from the likes of him. You seem like a nice girl, probably been living out on one of those claims in the mountain panning for gold, am I right?”

  “Silver mostly, but yeah. I think it was the gambler who did it.” I waste no time letting the sheriff know what I told the bounty hunter and my theory. “My father wasn’t in his right mind.”

  “Most men who drink aren’t.” He frowns and scratches his chin. “I thought I recognized him. We get a lot of folks passing through Deadwood, but I’ve locked him up before, I believe. Public drunkenness?”

  I don’t have it in me to deny it, and lying won’t help figure out who did this, although I’ve already tried and convicted the gambler, Pierce Weston, in my heart.

  “My father had a weakness for firewater.”

  “Those are your ponies hitched to the wagon by the mercantile?”

  “Yes.” My shoulders slump forward. I got no more tears to shed at this point. I feel heavy and worn as I sit there.

  “I recognize the breed. I take it your father likes to trade with the natives.”

  I wonder if he’s baiting me. There’s no law to trade or converse with the local natives in the mountains. The government created specific places for them to live — a prison with invisible walls.

  “We’ve come across them a few times over the years.” Not a lie.

  The sheriff nods. “Most people wouldn’t care about a drunken prospector getting killed, but since it involves a claim, I’m going to have to insist you don’t leave town until we settle this.”

  “Not leave town?” What would happen if Tail Feathers didn’t get his tobacco? Who would make sure no one stole their land? It wasn’t wise for one to leave their stake for too long or another prospector could jump claim on them.

  “Would you rather I put you behind bars? Because as of right now, you and this Pierce Weston fellow are the only suspects I have, and it’s your word against his.”

  I sink deeper into my seat. Can this day get any worse?

  “Sheriff! Sheriff!” Ella Mae, my best friend, rushes into the sheriff’s office, her cheeks rosy from racing across town. Her gingham dress twists around her legs as she flings herself toward me. “Oh, Jo. Say it isn’t so!”

  She wraps me up in a bear hug so tight I might not breathe again. Finally, she releases me. My lungs refill and I can use them again. “It’s true. Earl’s dead.”

  “Earl?” This news comes to her as a shock. “Your father is dead?”

  “Yeah. Whatever else do you think has happened?”

  Ella Mae holds on to me. “My father sent me to fetch you. I thought something happened when I couldn’t find you at the boarding house. There is a man waiting for you at the church. He came yesterday, and he’s back again today. He says you’re going to marry him.”

  “Over my dead body,” I growl.

  The sheriff stands and I realize those words came out the wrong way.

  “Isn’t there some kind of law that a murder suspect can’t get married?”

  Ella Mae’s eyebrows raise clear to her hairline.

  Sheriff Bentely scratches his chin and I run for the cell with the biggest lock, begging him to throw away the key.

  3

  I sit in the cell, arms crossed, boot leg swinging, and refuse to leave. Ella Mae wrings her hands, torn between staying with me and having to race back to the church to report I am not coming. How many men must a cowgirl leave standing at the altar before she finds the right one?

  The year I turned sixteen, I splashed and swam in the creek with Stands With Two Deer and his cousins. That wasn’t his name back then. He was Chitto, a word meaning brave in his peoples’ tongue. He’d been the boy to kiss me, and go exploring with me, and exploring we did. If only Earl knew what went on behind those mountain bushes.


  And when Chitto proved himself a man, he brought me those two ponies. I took them, fed them, and the next morning he tried to take me to his lodging and make me his wife.

  I wasn’t about to let any man think they could buy me. I offered to give the horses back, but Earl took them, stiffing Chitto a bride.

  Besides, Earl needed me. Who would wash his socks and brew the coffee? It didn’t matter I could swing a pickaxe and help sift for precious metals like silver and gold. Momma left him, and he wasn’t about to let me leave, too.

  Except now Earl is gone.

  And Chitto isn’t the boy pulling me behind bushes to steal kisses anymore. He is Stands With Two Deer. A name given to him at manhood, a name meaning a man with two wives. It didn’t take him long to catch another pony and lure in another bride. While I didn’t believe in divorce, I didn’t believe in polygamy either.

  I’m a one-man kind of woman.

  With the coast clear and the gambler gone, I let Ella Mae yank me from the cell. Sheriff Bentely wouldn’t leave me locked inside. He’s got a murderer to hunt down, and a gambler to investigate.

  If not for the way we met, I might find the gambler hard to resist. If I’m a betting gal, which I’m not, I’d put all my stakes in the gambler’s guilt. It’s not right of me to judge him before he has a chance to prove himself innocent. Where I really need to go is to take care of my dear departed father.

  It puts a weight on my shoulders, and I can’t help feeling dragged down the closer we approach the church.

  Outside on the stairs waiting for me is Pierce Weston, the gambler.

  “And here I thought you were getting all prettied up for our wedding, darling. No difference, the preacher is waiting inside.” He's dressed in a different suit. Navy and pinstripes with the same silver vest. His boots shine like his eyes with the excitement of a small child given a cookie right before supper.

  Ella Mae leans in close. “He’s handsome.”

  “Then you marry him,” I whisper back. Ella Mae breaks out in a fit of giggles. She’s more dressed to become a bride today than me. She always looks so womanly in her cheery yellow gingham and dark honey hair. Her cheeks get spots of pink. I know for certain she’s considering it, although she’s got a beau.