Shannon was walking home on Saturday morning, her shopping basket on her arm, when the stagecoach barreled past her at the corner of Main and Jefferson. A cloud of dust followed in its wake, and Shannon had to cover her nose and mouth with her hand and turn her head to avoid getting dirt in her eyes. The stage came to a halt in front of the Wells, Fargo office, and before the dust could settle, Shannon heard shouts and saw men running toward the still-rocking coach.
Inquisitiveness drew her in that direction, too, although at a more restrained pace. She arrived in time to catch a glimpse of a man as he was lifted out of the coach; blood stained his shirt a bright red.
“Somebody get the doctor!” Although Shannon couldn’t see him through the growing crowd, she knew the voice belonged to Matthew Dubois. “What happened, Clint?”
“Robbers, about seven or eight miles south of here. They wanted the treasure box. I told them there wasn’t anything in it worth stealing, but the gentleman there . . . he pulled his gun and tried to prevent the robbery. That started the shootin’.”
“Where’s your guard?”
“Back in Boise City. He took sick at the last minute so we had to leave without him.”
A man stopped at Shannon’s side and in a low voice asked, “What happened, Miss Adair?” Joe Burkette.
In an equally soft voice she answered, “The stage was robbed. A passenger was shot.”
“Did the thieves get away with anything?”
“I don’t know. The driver said they were after the treasure box, but he didn’t say they were successful.”
A murmur in the crowd announced the arrival of the town’s physician. Men moved aside to make way for Hiram Featherhill. Shannon had to stand on tiptoe and crane her neck to see him—hat on his head, black bag in his hand. When he knelt beside the wounded man, he disappeared from her view.
It wasn’t long before the physician rose again. Then the patient was lifted from the ground by several men and carried toward the doctor’s office. Afterward the crowd began to disperse. Next the green, wire-bound Wells, Fargo box—she assumed that meant the robbery had failed—was removed from the boot of the stagecoach and taken into the office by William Washburn, after which Matthew and the driver climbed up to the seat and drove the stage to the far end of town.
“I hope the passenger will be all right,” Shannon said, at last looking at Joe.
“He was crazy to try to stop them. Besides, wouldn’t have been anything of much value on a stage coming into Grand Coeur from the valley. Nothing to risk your life over.” He shook his head. “Those thieves were fools. Time to rob a stage is when it’s leaving a gold camp. That’s when the box is full of treasure.”
“You sound as if you know something about robbing a stagecoach,
Mr. Burkette.”
Her comment caused him to laugh. “Not hardly, Miss Adair. But
I’ve lived in Grand Coeur long enough to know how the system works.” He glanced down at the basket over her right forearm. “You’ve been shopping. Were you on your way home?”
“Yes.”
“May I walk you?”
She inclined her head. “If you wish.”
“You know, you really shouldn’t go about town alone the way you do. It can be dangerous for a woman. Especially a woman as lovely as you.”
“It would be a pity for such a pretty neck to get broken, Miss Adair.”
She tried to ignore the memory of Matthew’s words, especially when Joe was standing at her side, paying her pretty compliments. If only she wouldn’t rather hear pretty compliments from Matthew instead.
“May I?” Joe reached for the basket.
She let him take it. Then they turned and headed in the direction of the parsonage.
“I have some good news,” he said after a brief silence. “I’ve found a sidesaddle for you. I should have it next week.”
“So soon?”
He grinned. “I thought you’d be pleased.”
Maybe she’d been wrong about his reaction when she’d declined his invitation to go with him to the town celebration. Or else he’d forgotten his irritation with her.
“I am,” she answered. “You can’t know how very pleased I am.”
“And perhaps you and I can ride together sometime soon.”
Her father’s voice echoed in her memory: “The heart wants what it wants, Shannon.”
Her heart didn’t want to go riding with Joe Burkette. Not sometime soon. Not ever. There was only one man whom she would wish to go riding with, and he would be seated on a tall dapple gray.
She made a noncommittal sound in her throat and quickened her pace in a hurry to get home.
It didn’t make sense, trying to rob the stage before it reached Grand Coeur. While there might be things of value being shipped into the gold camp, mostly one would find legal documents and the like. It was far more profitable to rob a stage on the way out when the treasure box was full of gold.
Matthew knew it. So did Clint. So would the sheriff when he heard the news. But it seemed the thieves hadn’t thought it through.
Newcomers to the mining district perhaps. Or men made desperate by circumstances.
After the horses were changed out, Matthew made his way to the doctor’s office. He found Hiram Featherhill at his desk. Jack was with him.
“How’s the passenger, Doc?”
“He’ll live. Just a flesh wound.”
“Thank God for that.”
“Yes,” the doctor replied.
“I’d like to ask him a few questions. Is he up to it?”
“Maybe later. He’s had a shock and needs a chance to recover from it.” The doctor looked at the sheriff. “Jack here asked the same thing.
Got the same answer. You’ll both have to wait.”
Jack turned toward Matthew. “The driver still at the stables?”
“Yeah, Clint’s still there. He’ll leave on the return trip in about an hour.”
“Then I’ll go talk to him now.”
Matthew nodded to Dr. Featherhill before following Jack out the door. They both stopped on the boardwalk.
“Did you come to the same conclusion I did?” Jack asked.
“You mean robbing the stage on its way into town instead of out of it?”
“Doesn’t add up.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
Jack Dickson looked up at the sky. “There was another murder near Idaho City. A Confederate shot a Unionist for singing ‘Battle Hymn of the Republic’ and refusing to stop when he was told.”
“Not much reason to kill a man.”
Jack removed his hat and wiped his shirtsleeve across his forehead. As he set the hat back on his head, he said, “I’m sworn to uphold the law, and whether the men in these mountains like it or not, the law of this territory is set by the Union.”
“I’ve got no quarrel with that, Jack.”
“I know, Matt. I just wish there were more like you.” He tugged down on the brim of his hat. “I’d best go talk to your driver.”
Matthew remained on the boardwalk, watching as the sheriff headed toward the Wells, Fargo stables. There was more trouble coming, just like Jack said. Matthew could feel it in his bones.
After Joe bid Shannon a good day at the door of the parsonage, she left her shopping with Sun Jie and went to the church to tell her father what had happened in town. As she’d expected he would, he declared his intention to go to pray for the wounded man and to offer whatever assistance might be needed. Shannon went with him.
Tagging along had little to do with concern for the victim, however. The truth was she wanted to see Matthew again. All the way home, even with Mr. Burkette walking at her side, it had been Matthew whose face she’d seen in her mind. It had been her father’s voice she’d heard in her head: “The heart wants what it wants, Shannon.”
She hadn’t thought she could befriend a Yankee, and yet she had become a friend to Alice and to Alice’s son. As for Matthew . . . Well, she truly believed she’d come to feel something more for him than friendship. It seemed impossible that she could care for someone who didn’t love the South as much as she did, but there it was. She did care.
Her father would say they could be friends with any Yankee.
Those who trusted in Christ were all the same in the Lord’s eyes, all part of God’s family, grafted into the vine. Her father would say war could not divide them because they were brothers and sisters in the faith.
But when she thought of Matthew, it most certainly wasn’t as a brother.
Heat climbed up her neck to flood her cheeks.
Thankfully, she and her father arrived at the doctor’s office at that moment. Dr. Featherhill welcomed them, then took her father to see the patient in the examination room, leaving Shannon to cool her heels in the front office. She was still standing near the window when the door opened and a man wearing a badge entered.
When he saw her, he removed his hat. “Good afternoon, miss.” He looked around the small office area. “Is the doctor here?”
“He’s in the back with my father. With Reverend Adair.”
“Ah. Good to hear the patient’s up to having visitors. I’m Sheriff
Dickson. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Adair.”
“And yours, Sheriff.”
The door opened again. This time she didn’t need an introduction.
“The heart wants what it wants, Shannon.”
Matthew’s smile was fleeting, but she felt its force all the same.
Sheriff Dickson said, “The doctor’s in the back with the reverend.”
“The patient must be doing better.”
“Seems so.”
“That’s good.” Matthew looked at Shannon again. “I guess you heard what happened.”
“I didn’t have to hear. I was there.”
“You were? I didn’t see you.”
“I went to the store to purchase some groceries and was on my way home when the stagecoach came into town. I’m glad the passenger will be all right.”
Matthew motioned toward the chairs near the desk. “Would you care to sit while we wait?”
She complied, hoping he would choose to sit in the chair next to her. But he didn’t. Instead he moved toward the door to the examination room, then walked back to lean his shoulder against the wall near the entrance.
The sheriff took a couple of steps toward her. “I’m sorry I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you or your father before today, Miss Adair. Wish it was under different circumstances.”
“You’re most kind, Sheriff Dickson.”
Matthew pushed off the wall and crossed the room to sit where Shannon had hoped he would moments before. “Been over to see Ginny today?”
It seemed rude, the way he changed the subject and pulled her gaze away from the sheriff. Not only that, his voice had a gruff edge to it.
“Not yet,” she answered. “But I did receive some good news. Mr. Burkette has found a sidesaddle for me. He hopes to have it next week.”
His brows drew a little closer together. He didn’t look like he thought it good news at all. Which is why his next words were so unexpected. “After you get it, maybe you could go riding with Todd and me.”
She forgot his scowl and the rough edge to his voice. It mattered only that he’d asked her to go riding with him. And unlike Joe Burkette’s invitation, she had no desire to refuse Matthew.
“Thank you, Mr. Dubois.” She felt the heat returning to her cheeks. “I should like to.”