The Lone Rancher - By Carol Finch Page 0,80
wait to pass along the information about these two thugs using the supposed curse as a cover to rustle and set fires,” she said confidentially.
“I’m wondering if we should also let it slip that these two scoundrels might be involved in the murder. Whoever is responsible might become careless if someone else is blamed.”
“Maybe,” she said thoughtfully. “But we don’t want to give Marshal Hobbs an excuse not to search out the killer and his conspirators.”
Cahill shrugged his broad shoulders, then glanced back to ensure Chester and Ezra were still bound tightly and weren’t plotting an escape. “I keep wondering if these two incidents are somehow connected, but I can’t put it together.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “It’s pure torture, not knowing if my parents’ accident was caused by a robbery. My chance of finding out might have died with the unidentified man at Phantom Springs.”
Adrianna reached over to give his muscled forearm a sympathetic squeeze. “I know it must be maddening. Maybe you should contact your brothers and sister and let them know the possibility exists—”
“No,” he interrupted quickly and decisively. “My family moved on with their lives. Until I’m certain whether it was an accident or disastrous robbery, I’m not dragging them into it. I sure as hell don’t want them to think I used this as an excuse to bring them home.”
He sounded so intense and determined that she decided not to debate with him. Obviously, the resentments and conflicts between siblings still existed. Cahill was too proud and stubborn to ask for help. He’d asked for assistance with the ranch duties after the funeral, only to watch his family ride off to chase their own rainbows.
As she had chased hers by coming to Texas. She cast him a pensive glance. Did he secretly hold that against her, too?
Adrianna stared into the distance, hearing the whistle announcing the morning train’s arrival at Ca-Cross. She recalled the first time she’d stepped down from the passenger car to view the town. She’d been full of anticipation, excitement and dreams of making a place for herself as a successful lady rancher.
Thus far, all she’d done was embroil herself in a private feud with Cahill, become the victim of rustling and arson, add fodder for local gossip…and fallen in love for the first—and likely the only—time in her life.
She studied Cahill’s ruggedly handsome face that sported a day’s growth of stubble, remembering how his mercury-colored eyes could shimmer with passion or flash with temper. She smiled to herself and thought it was better to get her heart broken by a brawny cowboy than to be in Boston, countering the schemes of gold diggers who saw her as the key to unlocking her family fortune for them.
“What are you smiling about, Boston?” Cahill asked.
“Just wondering what adventure awaits me next,” she lied convincingly. “I’ve been here about six weeks and my life is brimming with excitement and mystery. Those dime novels about the Wild West have become my life. I have no complaints.”
“That’s Texas for you. Never a dull moment.” He winked at her. “As for me, I’d die of boredom in a place like Boston.”
“I did,” she replied, and grinned impishly. “I’m feeling much better now.”
Although Quin tried to persuade Boston to chitchat with her cousin at the boutique while he incarcerated the prisoners, there was nothing doing. According to Boston, she had discovered the connection between Ezra Fields and Chester Purvis so Marshal Hobbs could deal with her, like it or not.
Which Hobbs didn’t because he seemed to have an aversion to headstrong women like Boston who were quick of wit and sassy of retorts. Hobbs, like so many backward-thinking males—in the East and West—thought women should stay in their places.
Quin almost chuckled, remembering how he’d made the foolish mistake of telling Boston to go home…and stay there. Now, the thought of her living a few miles away from his ranch, while he was stuck home alone, was pure and simple torment. He’d be miserable if she moved back to her hometown.
Quin cast aside his meandering thoughts as he untied Ezra and Chester. He quick-marched them into the marshal’s office. As usual, Tobias Hobbs wore his stylish three-piece suit and his bowler hat hung by the door. Hobbs raised a curious brow when he noticed the prisoners’ scuffed-up condition.
“Now what?” he muttered. “You taking the law into your own hands and bringing along your sidekick?”
Quin wondered if Hobbs would ever learn to keep his mouth shut. He couldn’t