Chapter Thirty-Three
If asked, Aidan couldn’t give a straight answer as to where he had been.
He had simply considered walking into the sunset until all of his problems were far behind him, but found that he wasn’t the sort of man who could just abandon his responsibilities.
He’d spent the majority of the night wandering about, trying half-heartedly to ascertain where Kevin Black and his cohorts had been hiding.
He’d found himself on the rise above the ranch where they’d made their impromptu memorial for Brendan.
Aidan was more aware than ever that it wasn’t a proper grave, but it was comforting still to have a place to talk to his brother.
He’d settled in the dirt and just watched the sky, the ranch, and the few remaining horses.
It was near enough to morning when he came back. As he approached the back door, he could hear voices within. Fear gripped him—it wouldn’t have been beyond Kevin Black to reappear and invade his home. Pressing his ear against the door, Aidan listened hard.
It wasn’t Black’s voice; it was familiar, one that he’d heard nearly every day of his life. Aidan sighed in relief. If Antony was there, then his family was safe.
Well, at least someone was watching out for them while you were out wandering, a bitter part of Aidan’s brain murmured. Aidan winced. He’d walked away without a second thought to anyone but himself.
He took a deep breath, ready to open the door and apologize, but a snatch of conversation stayed him.
“…live with the decisions we’ve made,” Alexandra said.
Antony replied, but Aidan couldn’t make out the words through the door.
“…weigh our options carefully,” Alexandra said, and even through the door, he could hear her sadness.
“You’re not alone in this,” Antony responded.
He was weary and more ground down than he’d ever been in his life. He’d had the notion that he might find comfort in his home, maybe a warm breakfast and a kind smile from Alexandra. For all the disaster that the night before had been, she had been the one bright spot in it.
His hand reached for the latch and yanked the door open. He stood in the relative dark of the kitchen, staring as his eyes adjusted. Antony and Alexandra were at the table, sharing coffee by the smell of it. Antony’s hand covered Alexandra’s.
“Aidan!” Alexandra exclaimed, leaping up from her chair. She started to approach him, but halted as he fixed his eyes on her. Her hands were awkwardly in the air before her. She let them drop, withdrawing.
“Glad to see you’re all right,” Antony said, also rising. “Had us more’n a little worried about you.”
“I can tell,” Aidan answered crisply. He glanced significantly at the table where the cups of coffee were cooling.
Alexandra folded her arms, her face closing over. She slid into a familiar expression that she’d worn for the first several weeks that she’d lived at the ranch.
“That’s what you’ve come in here to say to me.” It wasn’t a question. “After last night. That’s the first thing out of your mouth.”
Aidan opened his own and found nothing whatever in it.
“You knew for a week.” Her voice didn’t rise, not the least fraction, which was somehow a great deal worse than if it had.
“You sat down in that chair and told me about the money, and you let me go on being frightened of the wrong thing entirely. And then I heard it standing in my own yard with Mrs. Bruin not four feet from me.”
“Drina—”
“No,” she said. “Not that. Not this morning.”
Aidan stared back at her, his back teeth pressing tightly together. He wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of seeing how much he regretted his words.
“We need to stay focused,” Antony interjected. “We need to come up with some kind of plan.”
“From the sound of it, the two of you were doing enough planning,” Aidan retorted. Antony and his mustache frowned at Aidan, which he ignored. “If the two of you are done making decisions about my life, I actually do have some thoughts on the subject of Kevin Black.”
“What are you going to do?” Alexandra asked, her arms unfolding. Her face creased with concern.
“I’m going to find a way to solve this, one way or another,” Aidan answered. “I’m tired of playing his game.”
“Meaning?” Antony prompted.
“If you’re being hunted by a cougar, you can either keep trying to outrun it, or you can try to trap it,” Aidan said. “I’m going to snare this cat.”
Antony rubbed at his chin. “You’d need some mighty good bait.”
Aidan nodded in agreement. “I’m working on that score.”
“Even if you do manage to catch him unawares, what then?” Alexandra demanded. “From the way people were talking last night, there’s not enough to convict him of anything. You’d be the one at the sharp end of the law.”
“I’ve thought of that,” Aidan replied. “You remember what Gus said about Longshanks?” Antony nodded. “Well, that got me to thinking—first him, then Brendan disappeared after owing Black money. What do you think the chances are of them both just taking a walk and vanishing?”
Alexandra and Antony both stared at him. “You think Black had something to do with it?” Antony asked at last.
“I do,” Aidan confirmed. He began to list things on his fingers.
“Two fellas, both in good health and knowing the area, just up and vanishing? No sir, I do not buy that for even a minute. And what’s more,” he continued, “I’d be willing to bet that there’s more’n just the two of them, too.
We start asking around, we might get enough for the sheriff to take a real interest.”
“You can’t,” Alexandra blurted. All of her cool indifference had evaporated. “Please, Aidan. You can’t just go after this man. If he’s as dangerous as you say he is, then—”
“Then sitting still isn’t safe, either,” Aidan argued.
She clenched her jaw and clasped her hands together at her waist, her knuckles white. “We just… can’t lose you, too. I can’t lose you,” she said softly.
Her concern disarmed Aidan more than a thousand arguments could have. Though he was still firm, his voice was gentler. “You won’t, not if we’re clever about this.”
Alexandra opened her mouth to say something, and Aidan could tell that it was likely going to be a snappy retort, possibly a jab at his aptitude for not being clever. She seemed to think better of it, though, and just nodded once. Aidan hoped that his disappointment didn’t show on his face.
He turned his attention to Antony. “We need to set out as soon as we can. You know the miners better than I do—you can check their old camp. I know there’s a few old-timers that still bunk out that way. I’ll see what I can get from the folks in town.”
Antony nodded. “Y’know,” he said with a sly look, “it might not be a bad idea to apply a little charm to some of the ladies in town. They’d be more likely to give up any rumors to a smile than that sour vinegar face you’re currently wearing.”
Aidan glared at Antony. “I’ll bear that in mind,” he said dryly. Alexandra had folded her arms again, her face mutinous. Is she jealous? he thought, gleeful despite the circumstances. “You’ll be left on your own a lot,” he pointed out. “Will you be okay?”
“She won’t be on her own,” Lisa said, coming into the kitchen. She was leaning heavily on her walking stick, her face pale. Aidan suspected that the exertions of the past few days, and the excitement of the night before, had taken a toll on her. He frowned.
“Can you shoot?” Antony asked Alexandra, who hesitated.
“I’m the one with the trigger finger,” Lisa said, leaning her walking stick against a chair and picking up Antony’s discarded rifle. She punctuated her point with a satisfying click of the lever.
“Are you sure?” Aidan asked, glancing at Alexandra. “You don’t look well enough to be up on your feet.”
“Don’t need my feet to shoot,” Lisa retorted. She leveled the muzzle on the back of a chair.
Uncertainty pecked at Aidan, but there wasn’t much time to dither about.
He looked about the motley group assembled around him: A spinster recovering from pneumonia, a veteran cowpoke who looked more at home in a rocking chair on a porch than chasing outlaws, and a bookish woman far outside of her natural habitat.
Aidan studied Alexandra for a moment, from the top of her curly head to her toes. Her skin had tanned, and her brown hair had lightened in the sun. While her face and body still looked soft as goose down, there was an underlying grit to her now that wasn’t there before she came west.
Or maybe it was always there, and I just didn’t see it, Aidan mused.
Whatever the case, she did not flinch as he looked at her.
Something in Alexandra’s gaze shifted. There was an acceptance there, however grudging and grim it may have been.