Outlaw Hearts(8)

He stumbled over to a curtained-off room to make sure no one was hiding there. The room held a homemade log bed that was neatly made and covered with a bright quilt. A single chest of drawers stood against a wall, and a washstand held a bowl and pitcher in the corner of the room. A gold-colored trunk sat against one wall. It looked old and well used. It had a deep gouge in the front of it, and the lid was painted with flowers, the colors now faded. A small table and lamp sat beside the bed.

He grunted again with pain as he walked to the bed and threw back the covers, caring little if he got blood on the blankets. He fell onto the bed, still wearing his woolen jacket and his boots. He rolled to his back, dearly wanting to stay awake and remain alert, but a blackness kept flooding over him. Finally the blackness stayed. His grip loosened on the revolver and the gun remained resting on his stomach as his hand slipped to his side.





Two


The sun was beginning to set by the time Miranda pulled her wagon to the front of her cabin. Sheriff McCleave, who had accompanied her home, rode up beside her. “Awful sorry the posse lost that man today, Mrs. Hayes,” the sheriff told her. “But we aren’t through searching. You sure you shouldn’t have stayed in town?” The lawman dismounted and hurried over to help Miranda climb down from the wagon.

“I’ll be fine, Sheriff. For one thing, Jake Harkner doesn’t know anything about me or where I live, and he certainly can’t go back to Kansas City and ask around now, can he?” She walked to the back of the wagon. “The man has either ridden as far from here as he can get, or he’s lying dead somewhere.” The words brought a sick feeling to her stomach. “Either way, I have nothing to fear from him.”

“But you’ve got money coming to you if we can find him, dead or alive. We’ll keep scouring the countryside, ma’am.”

Miranda picked up a basket of supplies from the wagon and turned to face the man. “You do what you have to do, Sheriff; but if you do find him, give the money to the Methodist church. I wouldn’t feel right taking it.”

McCleave shook his head. “Not many folks would turn it down, and you’ll need it if you still plan to go to Nevada.”

“Phil Albright at the bank said he would give me what my father had put into the farm and would take it over and resell it. It won’t be much, but with what my father had left in his savings, it will be enough.”

The sheriff frowned. “I don’t like the idea at all, Mrs. Hayes. How is a widow woman like yourself going to get all the way to Nevada?”

“Where there is a will, there is a way, Sheriff. I just need a week or so to get things in order. Then I’ll come back to town and look into perhaps going to Independence and seeing if there are some parties leaving for Nevada with whom I could travel. With all that gold and silver out there, there are new people heading to that area every spring.”

The sheriff took the basket from her, shaking his head. “You’re a brave lady to think about traveling all that way with strangers to find a wayward brother you don’t even know will be there anymore.”

Miranda turned and picked up another basket. “I don’t know what else to do. The four years we’ve been here in Kansas have been filled with nothing but loss and heartache for me. I met my husband here and lost him to the war, Wes ran off, Father was killed, the farm has gone under.” They were walking as she spoke and they both stepped up onto the porch of the cabin. “I need to get away from here, Sheriff.” Miranda looked up at the man, studying the hard lines of his face. She guessed him to be perhaps forty. He was not tall, but he was brawny, his only soft spot being his hefty middle. He was neither handsome nor ugly, a rather ordinary-looking man who was always watching out for her, hoping for more than friendship. She smiled. “I think I’ve proven I can take care of myself.”

McCleave grinned back at her. “Well, I’d agree with that.” The two of them went inside and set the baskets on the table. McCleave touched Miranda’s arm as she turned to go back outside for more supplies. Miranda stopped and met his gaze, seeing a mixture of concern and desire there. “I, uh, I admire you a lot, Mrs. Hayes. You’re a right handsome woman, except that you could use more meat on these small bones.”

Miranda blushed at the awkward compliment. “I try to put on some weight, but no matter how much I eat…” Her smile faded. “I know what you’re saying, Sheriff, and I appreciate the compliment and the concern.” She felt a tiny flash of desire, and she knew it was not because she was attracted to the sheriff, but more from the distant longings she had experienced lately of just wanting to be with a man again, to have a man love her, hold her, protect her, share her bed. “This is something I have to do, Sheriff. I’ll be fine.” She patted his arm. “If things don’t work out, maybe I’ll come back.”