The Bounty Hunter Read online

  Lily’s hands fell still. She didn’t share her story with many people. Only a few of the other women knew Lily’s background.

  “When I was a girl,” she began softly, “my father dragged me and my mother from one camp to another. I worked long days panning for gold beside him. Sometimes the streams would be so cold I wouldn’t be able to feel my feet until they started to throb during the night.”

  “That sounds awful,” Catherine said. “I had a very pampered childhood in comparison.”

  “My mother died when I was sixteen,” Lily continued. “My father traded me as a wife to a miner for a share in his claim.”

  Catherine’s eyes revealed her shock and sympathy.

  “After that I worked in the mine, and I cooked for both of them and did their laundry. My husband beat me whenever it struck his fancy, and my father didn’t do anything about it. He was happy with his half of a worthless mine.”

  “How did you get away, Lily?”

  “My husband died,” she said simply. “Ownership of the mine went to my father and I ran away. I came here.”

  “That’s when you met Madam Powell?”

  “Antoinette gave me work in her kitchen and taught me how to make my own way. I learned that the miners paid well for having their laundry done, so I started my own business and saved nearly every penny.”

  That’s when Lily had become friends with Mollie and Helena. But while she appreciated that the other women were also making a living, she recognized that they held as little respect for themselves as did the men to whom they sold their favors.

  “What happened?” Catherine asked.

  “Do you remember when the cholera epidemic struck the town? Several of the girls died, and Antoinette got sick, too. She was never well after that. I took care of her and the business. When she finally died, she left me everything.”

  “And you added on the dance hall and gave the women respectable jobs.”

  Lily nodded. “Not that anyone believes that.”

  “I do. I’ve been here with you.” Catherine took a deep breath and adjusted the ice pack on her face. “I admire your courage, Lily. You’ve come so far on your own.”

  Lily stood and tidied up the stand near the bed. With a heavy heart she added, “I didn’t have children to concern myself with. That’s an added worry for you.”

  Catherine had been lying with her eyes closed for several minutes. Now she opened them and asked, “Where is your father, Lily?”

  “He used to come into the saloon from time to time. Usually looking for a drink or money. He died a year or so back.”

  “So you own the mine?”

  Lily gave Catherine a sidelong glance and admitted, “A lawman from Bear County sent my father’s things. The deed was among them.”

  She still remembered how she’d felt when she’d seen that piece of paper. The ache still gnawed at a hollow place in her chest. The Queen of Hearts represented her value in her father’s eyes. He’d traded her dignity for his share. “Yes, I’m the owner of a worthless played-out mine.”

  “I’m sorry, Lily.”

  She hung a towel on the rack beside the water basin. “It was a long time ago. I really don’t think about it much anymore.”

  But it had shaped her. Driven her. Bolstered her and given her the impetus to create her own sense of self-worth.

  “Rest,” she told Catherine. “I’ll bring your supper up later.”

  That evening she waited for someone to question her about Catherine’s whereabouts. If Amos had gone to the sheriff, surely the sheriff would come looking here. He’d learned from the incident with Violet that Lily was likely to harbor a runaway female. But Lily had her doubts that Amos Douglas would go to the lawman about his wife. He wouldn’t want to sully anyone’s opinion of the town banker’s character or family.

  When Nathaniel Harding made his rounds, Lily was helping Old Jess open a crate of whiskey that Big Saul had just carried in and left behind the bar. She finished using an iron crowbar to loosen the lid and placed the tool under the counter, well away from reach.

  “I’ll take one of those Buffalo Bill specials,” the sheriff said, leaning against the end of the bar where he could stand and see the entire saloon, as well as Lily’s full length.

  Lily filled a mug with cider, then grabbed the neck of the rye bottle. After twisting a slice of lemon into his drink, she handed it to him.

  “Warm night,” he said, raising the mug in a toast and taking a sip.

  She couldn’t help wondering if he was thinking about the night before, when he’d followed her. Did he wonder if she’d be going for another swim soon? It still rankled that he’d followed to see what she was up to. Apparently, he would always consider her under suspicion.

  She wished she could tell him about Catherine and seek his help in protecting the woman, but things just didn’t work that way. If the sheriff knew she was hiding Catherine from her husband, he might feel obliged to turn her back over.

  It wasn’t right. It was just life.

  “Howdy, Sheriff.” Spooner Brennan, who worked at the freight office, sidled up to the bar to stand beside the sheriff. “Mizz Lily.”

  “Evenin’, Spooner. What’ll you have?”

  “Beer.” Spooner glanced at Sheriff Harding. “Hear you bought the Pierson place.”

  In surprise, Lily looked to the sheriff for his reply.

  The sheriff nodded. He met Lily’s gaze, then glanced away. “News travels fast.”

  “Your boots’re gonna echo in that big place,” Spooner declared.

  Lily filled a mug from the keg of beer behind her and set it before Spooner. The Piersons had been a family of seven who’d moved to Colorado some time ago. The house was a nice one and undoubtedly hadn’t been cheap, especially with Amos Douglas selling the property.

  The sheriff didn’t have a reply; he merely shrugged.

  Spooner sipped his beer and wiped foam from his upper lip. “You thinkin’ about a family, Sheriff?”

  Nathaniel Harding pierced him with a quelling look. “I’m thinkin’ about a little privacy,” he replied. “Don’t get much at the boarding house. Or anywhere else, for that matter.”

  Lily hid a smile and moved away.

  The Intolerants were late that evening, so the sheriff missed them while he was there, and Lily simply closed the front doors when she heard the women approaching. As soon as they’d moved on without incident, she once again opened the room to the night air.

  It was well after ten when Amos Douglas pushed through the bat wing doors and made his way to the bar. At the sight of him, immediate anger rose inside her, but she forced herself to remain calm.

  He ordered a beer and nodded in her direction. “Evening, Miss Lily.”

  She set down the rag she’d been using to wipe a table and moved to stand behind the bar in front of him. Amos didn’t frequent her establishment often, but hers was the only one he did occasionally stop by. She figured he had his own supply of liquor at home and only dropped in from time to time to keep a finger on the pulse of the community.

  The fact that he hadn’t been here for months until tonight, when his wife wasn’t home, didn’t escape her.

  “How’s the family?” Lily asked.

  “Fine, all fine,” he replied, lying through his teeth.

  “Those children of yours must be close to grown,” she said.

  “John’s nearly finished with his schooling,” Amos replied. “Next year I’m sending him east to attend university.”

  “And your daughters?”

  “Margaret and Trudy are beauties like their mother. They’ll make fine wives one day.”

  Of course the girls were being groomed to be wives and mothers. Women from wealthy families didn’t work. “I’m sure you’ll be selective in who you allow to marry them,” Lily said. “Wouldn’t want any harm to come to either of them.”

  He gave her a hard stare. “They will marry well.”

  Lily studied the man’s unruffl
ed composure, wishing she could expose his hidden disposition and bring him to justice. But there was little justice for the women of this land, and the fact set her teeth on edge. Five minutes in the dark with him in handcuffs and her wielding a big stick would take the edge off her temper. The thought brought a grim smile to her lips.

  “And your lovely wife?” she dared. “How is she?”

  “She’s well, thank you.”

  “Give her my regards.”

  “I’ll do that. And, Lily?”

  She cocked a brow.

  “Don’t forget my offer. Improvements, furnishings, even a new location. If you should need anything, you come to me.”

  “As you can see, I’m doing quite well,” she replied.

  “Your establishment is of a caliber above any other,” he agreed. “But remember, it takes effort to keep it that way.”

  Currently all her effort was focused on not knocking out a couple of his teeth, she thought, and walked away before she said anything she would regret.

  The clamor of metal against wood echoed above the sound of the piano, and Lily turned to find the bizarre spectacle of a horse and rider entering the Shady Lady. The man in the saddle ducked his head to come through the doorway. Once inside, the horse shied, its rear hooves clomping against the floorboards. The man swung his hat and whooped.

  “I hit a vein!” he hollered. “Gold!”

  The frightened horse skittered sideways, knocking into a chair, from which a miner picked himself up and darted away. The table tipped, sending cards and coins flying.

  Lily ran forward and grabbed the horse’s bridle to keep its head down and to prevent further destruction. The animal used its rear feet to step sideways, and led Lily in a circle.

  “Get this horse out of here!” Lily shouted at the rider. She recognized him as a miner who came through on occasion, but she didn’t recall his name.

  Thomas Finch came to assist Lily by grabbing the other side of the horse’s bridle and taking the reins from the rider. Together they led the animal out through the doorway and down off the boardwalk into the street. Lily released the horse and stepped away. “Won’t have you breaking up my place,” Lily called to him. “I hope you had the sense to go to the assayer’s office and the bank before you announced to the town that you’d hit a vein.”

  The man got a stupefied look on his face and stopped waving his hat.

  Behind them, patrons poured out of the saloon onto the walkway and into the street. The man was swamped by other miners, all asking questions.

  “Fool will be lucky if someone doesn’t knock him over the head for any gold he has on ’im,” Old Jess said from beside her.

  Lily shook her head. “A little caution would have served him well.” She turned to Thomas and Helena. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

  She hurried toward the sheriff’s office, not expecting him to be there, so she was surprised when she entered the building and he turned from pouring a cup of coffee from an enamelware pot on the stove. “Miss Lily. Would you like some coffee?”

  “No, thanks. There’s a fool miner who came riding into the Shady Lady announcing to one and all that he’s hit a vein. I have a suspicion his gold and maybe even his person are in danger now. Suppose you could lock him up until morning, when he can get to the assayer’s?”

  The sheriff set his cup on the top of his desk and grabbed his hat from a hook beside the door. “Sounds like a wise idea.”

  He accompanied Lily back to her dance hall, where people still milled in the street.

  Lily discovered a few customers had gone back inside and Old Jess and Saul had set the table to rights. The card players were squabbling over who had had which cards and how many coins each had had in their stacks.

  From the corner of her eye, she caught Amos Douglas returning from the hallway that led to the back. The adjoining door to the house next door and the back door of the house were always locked, so she knew he’d been unable to get into the house to find his wife. But he’d undoubtedly tried.

  He had the perfectly believable excuse of using the outhouse, and she would only look suspicious if she questioned his whereabouts.

  Half an hour later, as the evening returned to normal, Lily found an opportunity to slip next door and check on Catherine. The woman was sitting on an overstuffed chair in Lily’s sitting room, an unopened book lying on her lap.

  “Amos was downstairs until a few minutes ago,” Lily told her.

  Catherine pursed her lips before sighing and speaking. “I must go back to my family.”

  Lily didn’t argue with her. She took a seat on the ottoman.

  “I can’t stay here,” Catherine explained. “I’m thankful for your help, Lily, but I can’t stay any longer.”

  “Where does he think you go?”

  Catherine shook her head. “We never speak of it, and he doesn’t insist I tell him. He usually behaves as though nothing has happened.”

  “Not even an apology?”

  She shook her head.

  “I insist you wait until morning, when he’s gone to the bank. Tonight he’s had several beers, and I wouldn’t feel safe letting you go.”

  “All right,” the other woman agreed. “What was the commotion I heard earlier?”

  Lily explained about the miner who’d ridden his horse into her saloon. “Tomorrow there will be prospectors coming out of the hills, claims being filed and grub-staking going on. There’s always a big rush when someone hits a vein, no matter how small. Everybody thinks they’re gonna be the next to get rich.”

  “Meanwhile few actually find gold, but you get rich selling whiskey and dances,” Catherine commented.

  Lily laughed at Catherine’s accurate account.

  Tomorrow she would place an order for more whiskey and fresh kegs of beer. Maybe she’d buy all her girls new dresses and shoes while she was at it. Nothing like a fresh influx of miners to keep things lively.

  NATE NEVER HAD A MORNING he didn’t have to go to the jail house or a night he didn’t have to make rounds of the businesses. But most of Sunday was his to do as he liked. He hadn’t cared much while he’d been staying at the boarding house, because he didn’t fit in with the other boarders, but now that he’d bought a house, he valued the free time.

  The house had been in excellent condition, with three fireplaces, four bedrooms and a large kitchen and pantry.

  He’d been browsing in Wesley Clark’s hardware store one afternoon when the man had offered him a bed and chest of drawers for next to nothing. Nate had purchased a few additional pieces of furniture from a fellow who lived on the fringe of town and made tables and chairs.

  He had more than he’d owned for years, but the house was still large and hollow. He’d had lumber delivered and spent his morning building shelves in the pantry and more for storage in his bedroom. When the tasks were finished, he looked at the work he’d completed and his mind took him back to another time, another house—a small one with comfortable furniture and handmade rugs and checkered curtains.

  He hadn’t always played a lone hand. Hadn’t always lived on the trail, hunting men. There’d been a time when he’d had a home and a family. He didn’t let himself think on those times. He’d had his revenge. He’d left the past behind. But there were times—like now—when the present was such a hollow reflection of the past that he couldn’t help but make comparisons.

  This house wouldn’t always be empty. He’d looked through the catalogs at the mercantile and ordered lamps and kitchen items, but they wouldn’t arrive for another week or two. How much difference a few more material things would make he didn’t know. A home was more than furniture and dishes, and that fact kept eating at him.

  He’d been invited to a birthday party for Constance Thorndike at the Temperance Hall that afternoon, so he cleaned up his mess early and heated water to wash and shave. His house had a bathing chamber near the kitchen. Heating water to fill the tub took too long and it was a hot day, so he used only one kett
le of boiling water and enjoyed a refreshingly cool bath.

  He couldn’t help thinking of Lily swimming in the stream on hot nights, and he remembered his own visit to the secluded spot.

  The disturbing woman came to mind often, and it was an effort to push those sensual thoughts away. The more time he spent in his big empty house, the more he had thoughts of bringing someone here to live with him. It was time he put the past behind him for good and started to enjoy the years ahead. He was young enough to have a wife. Perhaps a couple of children. There had to be more to his existence than just enduring.

  It was time to think about change. Time to look around.

  Nate had purchased a stack of new shirts at the mercantile and then taken them to the laundry to be pressed. He put on a blue one now and tucked the tails into his black trousers.

  He’d polished his boots and brushed his hat the night before, so he looked as shiny as a new penny when he stepped off his front porch and made his way to the Temperance Hall.

  The building wasn’t much more than a big empty room, set with tables at one end and chairs along the walls. Wade Reed had told him that the Women’s Temperance Prayer League had purchased the land to build their own hall as an alternative to the saloons.

  One corner held a raised wooden platform and an organ. Reverend Bacon’s wife was warming up by playing something Nate didn’t recognize. As more people arrived, a fiddle player and a man with a harmonica joined her.

  The Gibbs family arrived, and the mayor greeted Nate with a handshake. Even the mayor’s male assistant was there, accompanied by a tall, toothy young woman.

  Nate tasted the bland punch, knowing beforehand it wouldn’t contain alcohol. This was the Temperance Hall, after all.

  “Hello, Sheriff Harding.”

  “Afternoon, miss,” he greeted Evangeline Gibbs.

  She was as pretty as a ripe peach in a pale silk dress with acres of ruffles around the hem and more at her shoulders. Her dark-blond hair was gathered on her head and adorned with pearls and what looked like a brooch. Delicate pearl earbobs dangled from her lobes.

  Nate immediately thought of Lily in her ropes of pearls and not much else. It took effort to banish the seductive image.