Chapter Six
Jayce
Burning Scrub’s bachelor parties weren’t earthshaking events by anyone’s standards, and Beau’s party was maybe even a little duller than average, because Benny’s presence put an extra damper on things. Nothing was going to spoil the old man’s great-granddaughter’s wedding day.
By nothing, he meant Adam and Jayce. Sheik Ali too. Leon Schmidt, Beau’s agent, was also on hand to make sure no harm came to his client. Leon hadn’t forgotten how Ali—in his role as Sheriff Earp—had tried to hang Beau and almost succeeded.
Burning Scrub had two main party venues.
One was the church, currently prepped for the wedding.
The other was Shooters Saloon, named for the number of weapons discharged within, and not shot glasses emptied, which said more about the residents of Burning Scrub than their attention to historical detail.
Local ordinances in the Old West banned weapons from establishments that served alcohol to cut down on the potential for violence.
Lawmen, however, were exempt from the ban.
And because Benny took his role as the town’s spiritual leader far more to heart than the town paid attention to detail, the saloon served homemade, nonalcoholic apple cider instead of whiskey.
The men played Texas hold ’em for pennies.
Belle’s grifter mother had taught Beau how to deal for one of their cosplay events, so he dealt the cards to guarantee Sheik Ali came out as the winner, because Ali was a client as well as a guest. Beau didn’t appear to have any problem with how his party worked out.
The guy was ridiculous in how happy he was.
Jayce didn’t play cards. He sat at the bar and nursed his lukewarm apple cider.
Malika’s earlier efforts to get him to find fault with Belle rather than Beau wouldn’t let him alone.
The sheik’s sister was a huge pain in the butt—she was spoiled and demanding and the way she looked down her nose at him made his teeth itch—but she also had a way of viewing things from an angle that made him stop and think.
Pointing out that he wasn’t real competition for Beau hadn’t endeared her to him, however.
Except she wasn’t wrong. Being famous wasn’t why Beau had won Belle.
It was because of the way he looked at her.
And Belle, Jayce conceded, deserved a man who went foolish whenever he heard her name, and Beau certainly did that.
Belle had tried to explain it to Jayce, but he hadn’t wanted to hear it.
Tonight, seeing how much Beau looked forward to marrying Belle, and how he’d made sure she got the wedding she wanted and not one that his fans might expect, Jayce finally saw that he’d handled things wrong.
Sure, the Belle he’d known before she met Beau would have fit nicely into his plans for the future.
But he hadn’t spared enough thought as to how he’d fit in with hers.
And as much as he hadn’t wanted to see it, the woman marrying Beau tomorrow was no longer the woman Jayce had believed Belle to be. She was still kind, and sweet, but she also did things sometimes that he didn’t understand.
He didn’t understand Malika any better. Her only issue with an arranged, polygamous marriage was coming into it second, whereas the thought of having to keep track of more than one woman’s mood swings gave him cold shivers. Especially if one of those women was Malika.
Now he saw why his dad got so confused when it came to his mother and the things she sometimes did. Those freeloading, black-footed ferrets didn’t contribute much toward the Ride No More’s bottom line, and money was Huck Hanson’s love language.
Adam slouched forward in his chair, bent elbows resting on the table, an unlit cigar clenched in his teeth.
He stared at his cards, then at Beau, then back at his cards, with a hint of disgust in his eyes.
Everyone, with the possible exception of Ali, knew Beau was cheating.
And since Beau was cheating, Adam got the worst cards.
Beau liked to do things that twitched Adam’s nerves.
Adam tossed his hand on the table and tucked the unused cigar into his breast pocket. “I’m out.”
He joined Jayce at the bar.
“How’s the new bear fence coming along?” Jayce asked, mostly for something to say that had nothing to do with women.
“The town’s too damn big,” Adam growled. “I’ve got the garbage fenced off, but I’m going to have to use temporary fencing and move it around to keep them out of the town. If a tagged bear wanders in, the new plan is to tranquillize and relocate it.”
Tranquillizing a bear wouldn’t be easy. It could do significant damage before the tranquillizer kicked in. Not to mention, relocating an animal of that weight and stature was more complicated than relocating a human.
Benny, who was too old for bachelor parties, late nights, and skipping afternoon naps, had dozed off at the far end of the bar. He lifted his head from his folded arms. His eyesight was poor, but there wasn’t much wrong with his hearing. “Told you the fence was a bad idea.”
“Can you think of a better way to keep that scientist out?” Adam asked, irritated. “There’s only so often he can suffer from heatstroke and not get suspicious.”
“We could infect him with mountain fever next time,” Benny said. “All we’d need are some ticks.”
Grady Lovett slid into the stool between Jayce and Benny. He’d also tossed in his cards. “Who are we infecting with mountain fever?”
“That scientist Adam relocated. He thinks using Rohypnol on him again will make him suspicious.” Benny waggled his empty cider glass at Grady, who topped it up from the stoppered jug on the bar.
Grady returned the jug to its original position. “Mountain fever might kill him.”
Everyone pondered that possibility.
“I’m going to have to move the damned fence around and relocate any damned bears,” Adam, who had the same problem with the damneds as Huck, said glumly. “There’s no other solution.”
“I’ll help with the fence,” Jayce offered.
Relocating bears or anything else wasn’t his problem. Andy Danvers, one of the permanent locals, helped Adam with that.
“We might be making trouble where nothing exists. We haven’t had any bears around in a couple of years,” Grady reminded everyone.
Burning their food waste worked well, except in dry summers. Setting the Pioneer Mountains on fire wasn’t the way to keep the town off the state radar.
Benny gargled a mouthful of cider, swallowed, then contemplated his glass. “We haven’t had research scientists driving them out of their ranges before, either.”
Grizzlies were solitary animals and not usually territorial. Their home ranges often overlapped with other bears and with people. The safest way to keep one from making Burning Scrub part of its range was to make the town unattractive to it, and food was what attracted bears most.
With scientists traipsing the mountains and driving small game off, however, bears had no choice but to seek out other food sources. Thirty-six adults, nine children, and tourists with no concept of danger, would look like an all-you-can-eat buffet.
Tilly barged in, ending talk of fences and bears, and ending the card game, as well. More women crowded behind her.
Belle and Malika weren’t with them. Jayce wondered why not, and what it might mean.
Likely nothing.
He hoped.
“Let’s get this party started,” Tilly said briskly. “Retta, you take the piano. Beau, grab your guitar.” She rubbed her hands together and scanned the room for her first victim. “Now. Who wants to dance?”
Ali raked in his mound of pennies. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure. I’m going to call it a night.” He nodded to Beau. “May blessings be showered upon you and your bride and unite you in goodness.”
Beau’s agent nudged Beau with an elbow. “There’s the opening line of a sappy love song for you. Put that to music.”
Jayce didn’t have any blessings to shower on Beau and his bride, so he simply slipped out once the music began and no one was looking.
The moon was a sliver from full and drenched the dirt street in a torrent of light that made a lantern redundant.
Ali, who moved with the stealth of a panther at night, was long gone.
The talk about bears had put Jayce on edge.
A quick check to make sure Ali made it safely back to the lodge might be wise.
And Ali had made Malika his problem too.
She’d gone to Belle’s bridal shower. Why wasn’t she at the saloon with the others?
The possibility of her and Belle making friends caused him no end of angst. He didn’t need Malika telling Belle tales about him.
He couldn’t go to sleep without finding out where she was. It was too much like having a rogue cow loose in the barn and just closing the door on it, hoping for the best. Malika was trouble.
He shoved his hands in his coat pockets and started to walk.
He could have found his way to the lodge in pitch black or a whiteout, so he let his thoughts wander too.
He’d been a part of Burning Scrub for more years than he could recall.
He’d been involved early on in discussions regarding how to make the town turn a profit, and these days, he was part of the show.
Gunfighter was the role he liked best. Sometimes he won, sometimes he lost. Last year, he lost. To Beau Jones, the worst cowboy in the history of Montana—but a decent shot at close range.
Maybe it was time for him to pull out. To go someplace with more people, where he’d stand a better chance of meeting a woman who looked at him the way Belle looked at Beau.
To start the next generation of Hansons on the Ride No More Ranch while his parents were still young enough to enjoy having grandkids underfoot.
The downstairs windows of Belle’s house were dark. Upstairs, Belle and her future in-laws were getting ready for bed as he walked past. He could see shadows moving about behind the closed curtains.
A few minutes later, and after a short, shadowy stroll through the trees, he reached the lodge.