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.