Married to Claim the Rancher's Heir Read online

  Now he did. She may have used the word hunger when speaking of Ruby that day, but what Janette had truly been fearful of, the real reason she’d brought Ruby to the ranch, was because she’d been afraid and mad that Ruby had been abandoned. Just like she’d been her entire life. Her father may have been a fine army man, but as a father he’d failed. He’d left his family behind to ultimately fend for themselves.

  He could understand that because it’s how he’d felt when Max left. Abandoned. Betrayed.

  The door slammed shut with enough force to rattle the window behind him. Despite another urge to follow her, Gabe remained seated. Most of the time, when something needed to be done, he jumped into action, but occasionally he realized thoughtful consideration was needed before he acted, and this was one of those times. He needed to envision the end result and work backward from there, create a plan.

  That usually happened while he worked, so Gabe stood and walked down the steps. Distance from Janette would help clear his mind, too. More than once since he’d opened the back door and found her standing there, he’d wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her like the world was about to end.

  Perhaps it was. The one he’d known his entire life anyway.

  * * *

  Hours later, Gabe wasn’t much closer to a plan than he’d been earlier, but he did have more information to utilize. Every nook and cranny had been thoroughly searched more than once before Bowling had left. There were still deputies stationed at the doors, and Gabe appreciated that. Word traveled fast no matter what size the town was, and people had heard that Janette was back. Women that is. Around noon they’d started to arrive, and though appalled at first to hear of the break-in, their questions soon were inquiring as to when Janette would be able to produce a gown for them. A special one, just like she’d said, and they were willing to pay more for a gown than he’d paid for cattle. A good lot of cattle.

  She was all business, polite, insightful and honest. Never promising more than she’d be able to do. He’d questioned that at first, but Thelma had set him straight. She’d also been forthcoming with additional information. Janette had financed Anna’s sewing-machine-selling dream and continued to send Anna money. Not because Anna had asked for it, but because Janette had wanted to make sure her sister, Ruby and even Max had what they’d needed.

  Learning all that left him with a good bout of guilt. He’d known where Max was. He could have easily made the trip to Texas. He’d have known about Ruby, then. Might have been able to prevent—he stopped the thought right there. Thinking of what he should have done wouldn’t change anything, but doing what needed to be done would.

  He was crossing the parlor, heading for the front door, when voices from her sewing room stopped him.

  “I must have it by the first of October at the very latest,” a woman was saying. “The ball will be on the fourteenth.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Branstad, but, as I said, I have several requests before yours,” Janette said.

  “But it’s the mayor’s ball, and I’m the mayor’s wife. I must be wearing one of your gowns,” the other woman said. “I’ve stopped by nearly every day while you were gone. I will pay whatever it costs to be put first on your list.”

  The door was partway open, and Gabe stepped closer but stayed out of sight.

  “I do understand you’ve stopped by several times, but I’m sorry, Mrs. Branstad, it simply wouldn’t be fair to my other customers to—”

  “Is one of them Martha Smith? She knows I’ve been waiting for you to return.”

  “I do not share the names of my customers,” Janette said.

  “Oh, she is, isn’t she?”

  Not envying her predicament in any way but interested in how Janette would handle the situation, Gabe leaned around the door frame to get a look at the other woman. She was older, pudgy and stern looking. He’d rather deal with cows any day.

  He leaned back, but his hand accidently bumped the door, causing it to swing all the way open.

  “Who are you?” the older woman asked.

  In an attempt to act causal, like he hadn’t been eavesdropping, he tipped his hat. “Gabe Callaway.”

  Her frown caused more lines on her already-wrinkled face. “Who?”

  This could be an opportunity that would work in on his behalf. He gestured toward Janette. “Her husband.”

  Janette gave him a why-did-you-say-that? glare while the other woman wheezed.

  “You’re married?” The disbelief in the older woman’s voice was laced with disgust. “You can’t be married. Who will sew my gowns? Oh, this just won’t do.”

  With another fiery glare toward him, Janette led the other woman toward the door. “I have my notes of the kind of gown you’re looking for, Mrs. Branstad, and if my schedule changes, I will let you know. Until then, as I explained before, I plan on speaking with Eleanor Wakefield tomorrow. She finished a couple of gowns for me when I had to leave town. With my assistance, I’m sure she will be able to sew you a stunning gown in plenty of time for the ball.”

  The mayor’s wife didn’t appear to like that answer, and there was a lengthy exchange before she finally left. Janette then closed the door and leaned against it, as if exhausted. She probably was. As far as he knew, she hadn’t sat down all day.

  “Are all your customers like that?” he asked, pulling aside the curtain to watch the older woman storming down the walkway.

  “No.” She sighed again. “Some are worse.”

  “Then why do you do it?”

  Her shoulders straightened as she pushed off the door. “Do you like every job you have to do on your ranch?”

  “No,” he answered honestly.

  “But you do them, don’t you, because overall you love your ranch?”

  “Yes.”

  “Same here,” she said.

  She made a point, and he would, too. “Speaking of the ranch, we’re heading back there tomorrow.”

  Her glare returned and she crossed her arms. “I’m not—”

  He held up a hand. “It’s not safe here. You’re not safe here. Granted, they didn’t find any gold, but that doesn’t mean Bollinger won’t be back.”

  She sighed, almost as if she didn’t believe him. “There are deputies at both doors and—”

  “But they can’t stay there forever.”

  Gabe didn’t take his eyes off her. Couldn’t. The hair tumbling over her shoulders glistened in the sunlight shining through the window behind her, and she reminded him of a sunset. Of how the sun gradually sank lower, but the beauty of its brilliance didn’t fade. He couldn’t help but wonder how different things would be if she wanted to be his wife. How different he’d feel. How different he’d act.

  “Why do you care?” she asked. “Why do you—”

  “Because whether you like it or not, right now you are Mrs. Gabe Callaway, and I protect what’s mine. And the only way I can do that is to get you back to the ranch where I know you’ll be safe.”

  “Well, whether you like it or not, I can’t go back.” She flayed an arm toward her sewing room. “Not right now. I have customers—”

  “What about Ruby?” The fact she gave little heed to their marriage goaded him in ways it shouldn’t. Using Ruby probably wasn’t fair, but it was sure to make her see sense. “She’s waiting on you to return.”

  “I know that. She’s been on my mind all day. Every day since we left.”

  He waited, and when she didn’t say anything more, he did. “And you know she wouldn’t be safe here. Just as you know you aren’t safe here. No one is.”

  She was surrendering, to her own beliefs as much as his words, he could tell by her eyes and may have heard her admit it if a knock on the door hadn’t sounded just then.

  He reached around her and opened the door for the person he’d invited over for supper. If she wouldn’t listen to him
, she might listen to a Pinkerton agent.

  “Hi, Kent,” he greeted the neighbor.

  “Gabe,” Kent responded, shaking his hand, before he turned to Janette. “Mrs. Callaway.”

  Janette glanced at him before turning toward their guest. “Hello, Mr. Nichols.”

  Thelma walked into the room, wiping her hands on her apron. “Hello, Mr. Nichols,” she greeted. “You’re right on time. I’m just putting supper on the table.”

  “I’m rarely late for a meal,” Kent said. “I’m not much of a cook. I remember the meals Rosalie used to cook fondly. Especially her apple dumplings.”

  Janette’s eyes widened.

  A sliver of guilt wormed across Gabe’s stomach. “I asked Kent to join us for supper so he can—”

  “Convince me to return to the ranch?” she asked.

  That was the reason, yet Gabe shrugged.

  Chapter Seventeen

  How many times would it take before she learned? Men were not to be trusted. Not one of them. They’d rather lie than tell the truth.

  “Kent worked for me a few years back,” Gabe said.

  “And you just remembered that?”

  “No. There was no reason for me to tell you earlier.” He turned to Mr. Nichols. “How long ago was that, Kent?”

  “Three years,” Mr. Nichols said. “Gabe, here, didn’t know that I also worked for the Pinkerton Agency. Not when I arrived or when I left. That’s how it had to be. There’d been a train robbery in the area of the ranch and word was it was a local job.”

  She’d met her neighbor a couple of times before, but as with all men the past few years, she’d kept her distance from him. Thin, with pale skin and reddish hair, Kent Nichols didn’t seem like the type of man to work on a ranch. “And was it?” Janette asked. “An inside job?”

  “Local enough,” he answered. “A gang of outlaws had taken up residency near an old army fort. They’d never have been spotted if Gabe hadn’t noticed a cow missing from the herd.”

  “They’d decided shooting one of my cows was easier than wild game,” Gabe said.

  “It might have been easier, but it’s what got them caught,” Nichols replied.

  Gabe shrugged. “I protect what’s mine.”

  Not wanting to remember he’d said that to her just a few minutes ago, Janette asked, “What happened then? After you noticed the cow missing?”

  “The gang was apprehended and Kent told me he’d had enough ranching and was moving on.”

  “Without mentioning he was a Pinkerton agent?” she asked.

  “We don’t divulge that to most folks, ma’am,” Kent said. “It keeps us safer.”

  Looking directly at her, Gabe said, “I didn’t know until this morning when I knocked on his door.”

  “I told Gabe I rarely involve civilians in a case,” Mr. Nichols said. “But considering Bowling already leaked my identity, and that I trust Gabe with my own life, here I am.”

  Janette wanted to ask if she was considered a civilian or a suspect but didn’t have a chance to.

  “A Pinkerton agent!” Thelma squealed. “Imagine that. Right next door and we never had any idea.”

  “How’s that meal coming along, Mrs. Hanks?” Gabe asked.

  Throwing both hands in the air, Thelma ran toward the kitchen. “The potatoes!”

  Lack of attention was precisely why most everything Thelma cooked was burned. “I’ll go help her,” Janette said, heading toward the kitchen. She didn’t appreciate being a suspect. Nor did she appreciate Gabe’s reminding her that Ruby was back at the ranch, waiting on her to return. She had been thinking about that all day, and every day since she’d left the ranch. But if she didn’t get her business back in order, she wouldn’t have the funds to raise Ruby. Or to take care of herself. Or Thelma.

  Thankfully, the potatoes were fine. The entire meal had to be one of Thelma’s finest, except for how she prattled about how seldom they have meat. Always frugal, and in charge of the meals since the time she’d come to live with them, Thelma restricted the serving of meat to once a week.

  That, too, made Janette wonder about Ruby. Things would have to change. That’s all there was to it.

  Things already had changed, and that’s what scared her.

  “Mind you, I can’t tell you all that I know.”

  Janette snapped her head up to look at Kent.

  “The Pinkerton Agency specializes in train robberies, but this particular case had gone cold years ago. It wasn’t until Sam Bollinger almost killed a guard that anyone took a serious look at his being in on it with his father. He’d thought he’d convinced the guard to sneak him a key, and when the guard didn’t, Bollinger attacked him the next chance he got. Bollinger was separated from his father then, and it appears he formed a kinship with two other convicts he was confined with because they escaped the same time he did.”

  “And they helped him break his father out,” Gabe said.

  “Who are we talking about?” Thelma asked.

  Janette glanced at Gabe. He had a way of looking right inside her and knowing exactly what she was thinking.

  “Sam Bollinger,” Gabe said.

  “Oh,” Thelma replied. “Never heard of him. Does anyone need more coffee?”

  “I’ve had plenty,” Gabe replied. “But maybe the deputies would like some.”

  “I’ll go see,” Thelma offered.

  “Maybe you could see if they are hungry, too.” Knowing Thelma would continue to serve the leftovers for days, Janette added, “There’s plenty.”

  “Oh, well, I suppose I could,” Thelma said.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Hanks,” Gabe said. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate your fine cooking.”

  Beaming, Thelma excused herself to gather plates, and Gabe suggested the rest of them go into the parlor.

  “You moved in next door as soon as he escaped, didn’t you?” Janette asked Kent.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

  He sat in the chair while she and Gabe sat on the sofa. Her eyes started to burn, and, needing someone to believe her, she looked at Gabe. “There’s no gold here.”

  His arm went around her shoulders, and he pulled her against him. “Maybe you just don’t know about it.”

  He was so big and strong, and it would be so easy to just give in. Give up. Let him handle everything. She couldn’t, though, because that wasn’t an option. “I’ve lived here almost my entire life. I would know if there was gold here.”

  While rubbing her shoulder, which was making her think about things that she shouldn’t be remembering, Gabe glanced at Kent and nodded.

  “Ed Bollinger’s cell mate described a coin that Sam kept hidden in his boot heel,” Kent said. “One that Sam claimed he’d gotten from this house.”

  Keeping her thoughts from roaming was growing harder as Gabe’s touch made her insides swirl. “There is nothing rare about a gold coin,” she said.

  “There are about these ones,” Kent said. “And they are easily identified. The unrecovered gold, the coins, were minted in San Francisco, with a design that was so intricate the dies broke. A total of three army shipments were made before the design was changed and all three shipments were robbed. Two were recovered.”

  She shook her head. “He couldn’t have gotten it here. I...” As much as she didn’t want to believe any of it, she couldn’t deny the facts or circumstances. Suddenly, her stomach threatened to empty itself. “Excuse me.”

  She hurried through the parlor and kitchen and out the back door. Her foot caught on her skirt as she ran down the steps, and if a pair of strong hands hadn’t caught her when they did, she would have fallen.

  “Whoa, there,” Gabe said as he steadied her. “Slow down.”

  Tears burned, threatening to fall, leaving her unable to do anything except shake her head.

&nbs
p; “Let’s walk.” He guided her across the grass, to the far side of the yard. Her hands shook as she grasped the wooden fence, staring at nothing but the side of the carriage house. A faraway memory erupted inside her. She’d been little, in Richmond, and holding on to the fence that surrounded the yard there.

  “It could all be coincidental.”

  Gabe’s voice penetrated the fog of her memory enough for her to answer. “You don’t believe that.”

  He rubbed her shoulders. “What do you believe?”

  She wasn’t sure and closed her eyes. The memory came on stronger. Faster. “I was five the first time I remember my father leaving. I cried, and he told me not to. That it would upset Mother. He said it was his job to go away and that it was my job to make Mother happy. Keep her happy. And Anna. And that if I didn’t, he’d be very disappointed in me.” Swallowing didn’t help the fire in her throat. “‘That’s an order, Janette,’ he’d said. ‘One you must always obey.’”

  “He was just worried. Wanted to make sure you’d all be all right while he was away.”

  “He said the same thing every time he left. ‘Remember your orders, Janette. Don’t disappointment me.’ Every single time. It got to the point I didn’t want him to come home.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Yes, I do,” she admitted. “And I swore that someday I wouldn’t be responsible for anyone but myself. I was going to do what I wanted. What made me happy, not everyone else.”

  “That’s why you sew gowns,” he said.

  His arms encircled her from behind, and she leaned back against his solidness as her mind went down another route. “Isaac, I mean Sam, was never impressed with my gowns, he was just after the gold.”

  “Did he ever mention it? Ask you about it?”

  Disgrace rolled inside her. “To be honest, I don’t know. I was too...too excited that someone...” She wasn’t sure how to explain it.