Chapter 20 #2
It was at that moment that he realized just how fond of Chloe he’d become, yet it wasn’t right.
She was legally married, whether she’d run away from her husband or not.
Divorce was difficult for a woman, and often came with a stigma.
So what do I do, Lord? Is this Your doing or mine?
Am I wrong? And even if I shouldn’t have these feelings for her, how can I encourage her to at least trust me—
A thought struck him just then. With a frown, he shoved himself out of his chair and stepped toward the cabinet beneath his rifle rack.
Opening a drawer, he reached in for a stack of papers.
Most of them were old wanted flyers that had come over the years.
When he got word that one had been captured or killed or just too much time had passed with no sign of them in the region, he’d take them down from his wall and shove them in the drawer with the rest.
“Tall, brown hair, green eyes,” he mused out loud.
Dozens of men, and a woman or two, were found in the stack of wanted bills for a myriad of crimes; theft of horses or cattle, fraud, train and stagecoach or bank robberies, assault and murder …
not to mention that the two who’d murdered his father were still wanted here in Texas as well as Missouri for prison escape …
One after the other, he glanced at rough sketches, descriptions, growing more frustrated by the moment. He was near the bottom of the stack, the others piling up on his desk when one caught his eye.
He put that one on the desk as well, along with a half dozen others, but after looking at two more, he paused, looked back at the desk and shuffled the papers until he found the one that he’d just seen. He put the others down and lifted the wanted poster, peering at it closely.
A rough sketch of the head and shoulders of a man.
Slightly wavy dark hair penciled in and smudged with a finger, a long straight nose, strong jaw line, and hooded eyes.
He glanced down at the description. Dark hair, green eyes …
his heart skipped a beat when he saw the name written in bold on the bottom of the paper.
Not an outlaw’s nickname, like so many of the others, but a real name, and one he’d heard before. Recently.
Silas Crowe.
He frowned and quickly went through the rest of the stack looking for one that described Everett Kane, but he didn’t see one.
Why would he have one and not the other?
He looked back at the wanted poster for Silas Crowe and noted that it was dated three years ago.
The man was wanted for a bank robbery in Oklahoma Territory.
He straightened, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared at the image.
After all this time, he believed he was finally getting close.
If the man who had visited the bank was Silas Crowe, then Everett Kane had to be nearby.
His gaze hard, he folded the wanted poster and shoved it in his pocket.
As he left his office he plucked his hat off the peg by the door and headed for his mother’s boarding house.
He remembered telling Chloe about the outlaws who’d killed his father that morning they’d ridden to the orphanage in the buggy.
He recalled she’d grown increasingly pale and nervous upon hearing those names on his lips.
Why? Did she know something about them? Had she heard about those outlaws?
Did she think they were the ones who’d attacked her stagecoach?
He needed to ask her again if she’d laid eyes on any of them. Perhaps she remembered more of the incident now than she had when he’d first questioned her about the attack. He heaved a sigh. Who do you think you’re fooling? You want to talk to her anyway, to try to explain yourself.
When he got to the boarding house, his mother was sweeping the front porch. She glanced up and smiled when she saw him.
“Nathaniel, what brings you here so early? Do you want some breakfast? I still have some—”
“Where’s Chloe?” he interrupted, so focused on a number of questions flitting through his mind that he didn’t realize what he’d done until he noticed his mother’s slight frown. “Sorry, Mother. And no, no breakfast, thank you. I just have something I need to talk to Chloe about. She in the house?”
Dalia shook her head. “She’s been tired lately. Early this morning she asked if she could take the day off. She asked if she could borrow the buggy and spend the day at the orphanage with Eliza as well. They should be back before dark.”
“What?”
Dalia’s frown deepened. “If you’d come by yesterday, you’d know that Eliza stayed the night there with her friends.
Chloe left early this morning, before breakfast, to spend the day over there, and suggested that she and Eliza might have a picnic.
” She shrugged. “She wants to spend some time alone with her daughter.”
He looked away, the sun was heading slowly toward the western horizon. She’d been gone most of the day? “She left this morning? Alone?”
His mother shrugged. “She’s a grown woman,” she softly scolded. “She—”
“Where?”
His mother stared. “Where what?”
“Did she say anything about where they would have their picnic?”
“She didn’t say, but I suppose somewhere near the orphanage. Why?”
He glanced around. “Where’s Lillian?”
Dalia eyed her son. “For heaven’s sake, Nathaniel!” She paused, a worried frown creasing her brow. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” he said. At least I don’t think so. “I just need to talk to her about something, that’s all.”
“Thomas took Lillian to visit with Sarah Cambridge over at their farm east of town. She’s due to have her first baby any day now and she wanted to visit.
Thomas rented a buggy from the livery since Chloe took ours.
Why?” She paused, worry again lifting her eyebrows. “What is it, Nathaniel? What’s wrong?”
He heaved a sigh. Where would he even begin? “Like I said, I just need to have a word with Chloe.” He shoved his hand in his pocket, touching the folded up wanted poster. “It’s important.”
She eyed him for several moments. “Well, she should be back soon.”
He shook his head, not wanting to tell her about a possible sighting of one of the men who’d murdered his father, her husband, at least not just yet.
“I don’t think so.” He didn’t know where the nagging suspicion came from, but he needed to see for himself.
“I’ll leave her a note.” He started to turn away when his mother stopped him.
“Why don’t you stay for supper, Nathaniel,” she murmured. “You weren’t here for supper last night either.”
He shook his head, trying to hold his frustration inside.
“I’ve got a job to do, and the day isn’t over yet.
” With that, he strode past the house, through the yard, and to the cabin.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stub of a pencil and the wanted poster.
He tore off a corner of it, thinking to leave her a note.
Though his mother told him Chloe was away, he knocked on the closed door anyway. He frowned when the door opened slightly and he slowly pushed it open the rest of the way. Why hadn’t she made sure it was latched?
Silence met him as he eyed the interior from the doorway.
He glanced over his shoulder toward the empty corral and carriage house, the yard, and the grove of trees nearby.
He thought he saw a shadow of movement in the shade and stared for several moments, but saw nothing more.
A bird chirped. He heaved a sigh and looked inside the cabin again, noticing a sheet of paper folded in half on the kitchen table.
He stepped inside and saw his name scrawled in slightly splotched ink on the top.
He opened the note and quickly scanned its contents, his heart dropping like a rock and settling heavily in his stomach.
His temples throbbed as a myriad of feelings clamored for attention, so many that he couldn’t hold onto one longer than a second before another took its place.
He numbly returned to the house to find his mother in the kitchen, humming softly as she peeled a carrot.
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled.