The Heart's Pursuit Read online

  “Miss, lots of people come through Laramie, and I sure as shootin’ don’t meet ’em all or get their names.” His eyes narrowed. “What’re you lookin’ for them for, anyhow?”

  “It’s a . . . a family matter.” Her cheeks grew warm. “But it’s urgent that I find Mr. Cassidy.” She leaned forward, gripping the edge of the counter. “Please try to remember, sir. They would have come through Laramie within the last two weeks. Mr. Cassidy is a tall man, a little over six feet, and he’s clean shaven. He has pale yellow hair and blue eyes.” She touched her right eyebrow. “And he has a small white scar right here.”

  The clerk’s expression altered. “Come to think of it, I guess I have seen the man you’re lookin’ for. But not here at the station. It was in town. He was at the Red Dog Saloon. Good-lookin’ fellow with yella hair, just like you said. Not more’n five or six days ago. He was gamblin’ heavy that night. I remember ’cause folks were still talkin’ about it the next day.”

  Gambling? With her father’s money. Had he lost?

  As if hearing the question, the clerk added, “Ain’t often the house loses, but they did that night.”

  “The house lost?”

  “Your friend came out the winner at the table. Seems like there was another man with him.”

  She felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. “Do you know where they’re staying?”

  “Sorry. Far as I know, they left town. I’m pretty sure I’d’ve heard if the fella you’re lookin’ for was still around. Unless he decided to give up card playin’—and that’s not very likely when a man’s on a winnin’ streak.”

  Silver took a step back from the counter. “Thank you for your help, sir. It’s appreciated.”

  “It’s possible they bought passage when I wasn’t here. I’m not the only clerk.”

  “Thank you,” she repeated before turning away.

  Her heart was pumping fast by the time she returned to the center of town, intent on informing Jared of what she’d learned. It wasn’t until she was almost to the saloon where she’d last seen him that she realized it was the same saloon where the railroad clerk said Bob had been gambling.

  She ignored the Closed sign hanging on the hinged door, pushed the door open, and stepped inside. She stopped on the threshold. Save for Jared and the woman he’d embraced outside on the boardwalk, the large room was empty—no surprise since the saloon was closed for business. Jared and the pretty blonde were seated at a table not far from where Silver stood, enjoying what appeared to be an intimate conversation, just the two of them in the shadowy light of the saloon.

  As if Jared had nothing better to do. As if he hadn’t been pushing hard to get to Laramie in as few days as possible only to forget why he’d come there. As if he hadn’t agreed to find Bob Cassidy for the reward. As if Silver no longer existed.

  “Mr. Newman.”

  Startled, Jared glanced up, then got to his feet. “Miss Matlock? What is it?”

  “Bob was here in Laramie.”

  “Did someone at the restaurant tell you?”

  “No, not at the restaurant. I learned it from the railroad clerk.”

  “I thought you were ordering our dinner.”

  If I had been, it would have gone cold before you remembered it. She lifted her chin. “I saw that you were busy here”—with this woman—“so I took it upon myself to begin the investigation without you.”

  Jared frowned as he moved toward her.

  “Bob was in Laramie, in this saloon, just a few nights ago. Gambling.” She took a breath. “With my father’s money.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “You said Tom will return soon?”

  “Yes,” the woman answered. “I’m not sure why it’s taking him so long.” She rose, walked to where Jared and Silver stood, and offered her hand to Silver. “Jared has forgotten his manners, so I’ll introduce myself. I’m Whitney Hanover.”

  The woman, perhaps five years Silver’s senior, was even more attractive up close. Her complexion was flawless, her eyes a beautiful green, her figure perfection even in that plain brown dress. Men were surely drawn to her like bees to a flower. Silver felt the grime of the trail on her skin and wished she’d had a bath before telling Jared what she’d learned at the station.

  “How do you do?” Reluctantly, she took hold of the proffered hand. “I’m Silver Matlock.”

  “Let’s sit down, shall we? My husband should return any moment now.”

  Her husband. How strange that those words caused Silver’s annoyance to vanish in an instant.

  Tom Hanover’s delight in seeing Jared was as genuine and heartfelt as his wife’s had been. But Jared didn’t allow them to spend much time in small talk.

  “Tom, we’re looking for a man. Someone”—he searched for the right word—“close to Miss Matlock.” He glanced at Silver. “Tell him what Cassidy looks like.”

  She did so.

  “Yes,” Tom answered with a nod, “he was here. He played cards at our tables for several evenings in a row. The last time was three nights ago.”

  Three nights. They were closer than Jared had dared hope they might be. “Anyone else with him?”

  “Yes. Although they might not have come in together. But they seemed well acquainted. Had their heads together a time or two. Other one was shorter, had hair a bit darker. He didn’t seem any too happy, even with his friend winning big. Both of them were new to Laramie—or at least they were new to the Red Dog.”

  “Either of them still in town that you know of?”

  Tom shook his head. “They took the westbound train out of Laramie on Saturday morning. I know because I was at the station, picking up a shipment that came in on the same train. I saw them board with about a dozen other folks. I’ll admit, I wasn’t sorry to see that Mr. Cassidy leave town. His winnings made a sizable cut into our profits.”

  It wasn’t Bob Cassidy who had brought Jared to Laramie, but perhaps he’d be able to find the wayward fiancé for Silver while continuing his search for his true prey. Obviously Cassidy wasn’t worried about anyone looking for him, or he wouldn’t have made his presence in town so obvious. That kind of behavior would work in Jared’s favor.

  Whitney touched his arm with her fingertips, drawing his attention. “You and Miss Matlock must eat here and stay the night with us. We have rooms upstairs for you both.”

  “Yes,” Tom chimed in. “You must stay. It’s the least we can do for you after what you did for us.”

  Silver looked at Jared, curiosity in her gaze, obviously wondering what Jared had done for the Hanovers.

  He ignored the look and nodded his assent to Tom. He wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  CHAPTER 14

  Jared stepped onto the balcony overlooking the main thoroughfare. Voices and music from the Red Dog drifted upward to meet him. More of the same came from similar establishments farther down the street.

  On nights like this, when sleep wouldn’t come, when old memories rose up to torture him, he wished he could drown his thoughts in a bottle of whiskey. But he’d learned the hard way that he couldn’t escape the past in a bottle. He could drink himself into oblivion, but nothing would have changed when he regained consciousness. Once he’d realized that truth, he’d become a teetotaler, focused not on forgetting but on finding. Finding the man who had taken his family from him. Finding him and getting revenge.

  “Jared? You out there?”

  He turned as Tom stepped through the doorway.

  “I knocked on your door, but you didn’t answer.”

  “Sorry. Didn’t hear you.”

  Tom joined him at the railing, his gaze moving up and down the street. “Laramie’s been good to us.”

  Jared nodded.

  “Gotta say, I was hoping that by now you’d’ve found a girl and settled down.”

  “Not everyone’s as lucky as you, Tom. Women like Whitney are few and far between.”

  “What about Miss Matlock?” Tom turned and leaned his
backside against the balcony railing, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is there anything happening between you two?”

  Jared chuckled as he shook his head. “No.”

  “Then why let her accompany you? Not exactly your style. I remember you saying you work best alone.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I said.” He turned his eyes toward the train station.

  “Are you still looking for him?” There was no need for either of them to clarify whom Tom meant.

  “Yeah, I’m still looking. He’s the main reason I’m here.”

  “I take it Miss Matlock doesn’t know that. She seems to think it’s Mr. Cassidy who brought you to Laramie.”

  Jared shrugged. “I’m hoping to kill two birds with one stone. For now, at least, both men seem to be headed in the same direction.”

  “You think the man who murdered your family was in Laramie too?”

  “Not sure. But the last I heard, Virginia City, Nevada, was his destination. I hoped someone might’ve seen him getting on the train here in Laramie and remembered that scar.” He touched the hollow of his throat. “He almost killed another girl in Central City. There’s no doubt it was him. I was only about a week behind him.”

  “The girl. She lived?”

  “She lived.”

  “She was lucky.”

  Lucky didn’t feel like the right word. It hadn’t felt like the right word for years. There’d been people back in Kentucky—well-meaning neighbors and friends—who’d said that about him: “Lucky you weren’t at home, boy. You’d be dead too.”

  “Wish I could be of some help,” Tom said, intruding on Jared’s thoughts. “But strangers come through Laramie every day. Just like that Cassidy fellow. Only reason I remembered him was because he won big at cards, and him you could describe. Hard to identify a man without more to go on than average height, dark blond hair, and a scar that could be hidden under any shirt.”

  “I know.” Jared took a deep breath and let it out. “But eventually he’ll make a mistake and I’ll find him. Maybe it’ll be someday soon.”

  “I hope so, for your sake.” Tom patted his shoulder. “You deserve a better life than the one you have.”

  Silver answered the soft knock on the bedroom door. Whitney stood on the other side of the doorway.

  “Sorry to disturb you, Miss Matlock. I wondered if there’s anything you need to make you more comfortable?”

  “Thank you, no. I have everything I need.” She touched her still-damp hair. “And the bath was heavenly.”

  A breeze rustled the curtains over the open window and brought with it the muffled voices of two men on the balcony. Tom and Jared. Over supper in the Hanover suite earlier in the evening, Silver had learned a little about Jared and the young couple’s friendship. Hearing the story of how Tom had been wrongfully accused of murder and how Jared had tracked down the real killer had made her see him in a new light. His work wasn’t just about the bounty he earned when he brought in a criminal. According to the Hanovers, Jared was motivated by a need for justice above all else. It pleased her to know this about him. Perhaps pleased her more than it should.

  Whitney said, “Jared says you’ll leave at first light.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I shouldn’t keep you. You need to get a good night’s rest.”

  “Mrs. Hanover—”

  “Please. Call me Whitney.”

  Silver smiled, thinking it strange how much she’d disliked the woman when she first saw her and how much she liked her now. “Whitney. In case I haven’t said it already, thanks so much for your hospitality. This”—she motioned toward the bed—“is a nice reprieve from sleeping on the ground.”

  “I would feel the same way. All those hours in the saddle, sleeping under the stars, risking life, limb, and the disapproval of others.” Whitney started to turn away, then stopped and looked at Silver again. “You must love him a great deal.”

  “No, not at all. If I ever felt love for Bob Cassidy, he crushed that feeling on what should have been our wedding day. I feel nothing for him now but contempt.”

  Whitney’s smile was gentle. “I didn’t mean Mr. Cassidy. I meant Jared.”

  “Jared?” Silver felt her eyes go wide.

  “I saw it on your face at supper. It was there whenever you looked at him.”

  “Whitney, believe me. You’re wrong. I barely know Mr. Newman. I hired him to find Bob. That’s all that’s between us.”

  “Time isn’t always what makes two people draw close to each other. Sometimes the heart understands far more than the mind, and much sooner too.”

  Silver wanted to protest again, but she seemed incapable of it.

  Whitney offered another knowing smile. “Good night, Silver. Rest well.”

  “Good night.” Silver closed the door, turned, and leaned her back against it.

  Gracious! What could have made Whitney think such a thing? Silver felt no affection for Jared Newman. Certainly not of the romantic kind. Perhaps she’d begun to admire him a little after hearing the Hanovers’ story. But that was all. Respect and admiration were as far as her feelings went.

  Her dream rose up to mock her. She saw him seated on his pinto, felt his gaze turn upon her, wanted to—

  Stop! It was absurd. And dreams meant nothing.

  She would have to make sure no one else misinterpreted her feelings in the future. Most of all the bounty hunter himself.

  CHAPTER 15

  As they approached Green River City three days after departing Laramie, Silver felt relief when Jared told her they would get a couple of rooms for the night. Not so much because she would enjoy sleeping in a real bed again—although she would—but because it would give her some time by herself. It seemed that she couldn’t look at Jared without Whitney Hanover’s voice echoing in her memory: “You must love him a great deal . . . I saw it on your face at supper. It was there whenever you looked at him.”

  Love him? How could she love him? She barely knew him. Jared was little more than a stranger to her. While they traveled, he rarely spoke, and it wasn’t much different when they stopped to rest the horses during the day or to camp for the night. The man was private with his thoughts and his past. She’d learned more about him during their brief stay with the Hanovers than in all the other hours she’d spent with him put together.

  Then there was that dream. The one that lingered in her memory, day after day.

  “Sometimes the heart understands far more than the mind, and much sooner too.”

  Perhaps Whitney was right. But the Bible, as her father was wont to remind her, said the heart was deceitful above all things. She’d best remember that. She’d made a bad enough mistake when she’d ignored her head’s warning about Bob Cassidy, a liar, scoundrel, and thief. She didn’t want to make an even worse one with a bounty hunter.

  “There it is,” Jared said as he reined in on the crest of a hill. “Green River City.”

  Embarrassed by where her thoughts had taken her once again, she followed the direction of his gaze and found the small town nestled beside the green-colored river from which it took its name. In unison they nudged their horses and started down the hillside.

  Green River was much like other western towns built along the Union Pacific rail line. There was one main street bordered by a mercantile, a restaurant, a church, two saloons, the jail and county offices, a doctor’s office, and a small hotel advertising clean beds and hot baths. Dust rose up in small clouds behind horses and wagons, turning everything the same dull shade of taupe.

  The pair dismounted in front of the hotel, Jared’s spurs jingling as he stepped onto the boardwalk. “You get us a couple of rooms.” He squinted at the afternoon sun. “I’ll take the horses to the livery stable and then check around town, see if I can learn anything. I’ll meet you at the restaurant across the street at six o’clock.” He took money from his pocket and offered it to her. “Can you wait that long to eat?”

  Taking the coins, she nodded, thankful he
r stomach didn’t growl and make a liar out of her.

  “Here.” He stepped off the boardwalk and removed the saddlebags from both of their horses. “You’d better take these with you.” He dropped them onto her outstretched arm. “I’ll take care of the rest of our things. See you at six.” He led the horses down the street.

  As she watched him go, his long, easy gait familiar to her, a strange feeling shivered up her spine. A feeling she couldn’t define—and wasn’t sure she even wanted to try.

  The man at the railroad station was certain no one meeting Bob Cassidy’s description had broken his trip at Green River over the past two weeks. “Truth be told, ain’t been nobody get off the train but folks who live here for a good month.”

  The news didn’t surprise Jared. Green River wasn’t much more than a way station, a quick stop on the way to or from bigger cities west of Wyoming. Places like Virginia City, Nevada, where he believed the man with the scar was headed.

  He felt that now-familiar twinge of guilt, knowing his questions about Bob Cassidy and Matt Carlton were more of an afterthought. If Jared ever learned those two were headed away from Nevada, he would abandon any thought of bringing in Silver’s runaway fiancé.

  Former fiancé.

  He thought back to the meal he and Silver had shared with Tom and Whitney. He’d been uncomfortable with the Hanovers’ words of praise as they’d told Silver what brought the three of them together. A man of honor, Tom had called him. A man who wanted justice above all else. It wasn’t very honorable to make Silver believe that finding Cassidy was his top priority. As for justice? It might be what he’d sought for Tom, but it had little to do with his hunt for the man with the scar.

  Revenge was what he wanted. Stone-cold revenge.

  He headed back toward the hotel, planning to clean up before meeting Silver at the restaurant. But as he walked past the saloon nearest the train station, he glanced through the window and caught sight of another familiar face.