Catherine approached Harrison’s saltbox farmhouse on the outskirts of town, knowing she was blatantly ignoring Corbin’s warnings of not getting involved in his investigation If he would have made an ounce of progress in the past couple weeks, she might think differently, but he’d yet to find any real proof of Harrison’s guilt—or innocence. And time was running out. More than likely, his trek to find one of the bank robbers—like every other lead he’d followed—would prove to be nothing other than a dead end.
With her sister’s life at stake, taking things into her own hands seemed to be the only logical thing to do. If Harrison proved to be guilty, as Mr. Peterson’s phone call implied, she wouldn’t stand in the way of his arrest, but neither would she break her sister’s heart needlessly. She had to know the truth for herself. And to get to the truth, she had to get Harrison to talk—whether he was the face on the Wells Fargo wanted poster or not.
She fingered the Colt hidden in the folds of her skirt. Her father might have failed as a father in a number of ways, but he had taught her to hit a target as well as most men she knew. Letting out a slow breath, she sent up an extra prayer for courage. Something that was irrefutably missing at the moment.
Swallowing any doubts of her mission, she turned her attention to the house that had been built three generations ago by Randall Tucker. Fresh paint and a few repairs had gone a long way. It was hard not to be impressed with the amount of work Harrison had put into the place. But a well-kept place did nothing to prove one’s innocence.
Harrison crouched on the shaded eastern side of the barn, repairing a loose board. Clad in a white band-collared shirt, tan cotton trousers, and a pair of suspenders, he looked the part of a farmer. Of course, if Corbin was right about him, that was all Harrison was doing. Playing a role.
“Good morning, Harrison.”
“Catherine?” Harrison stood before lifting his hat. “I didn’t hear you coming. This is an unexpected surprise.”
Catherine shielded her face to block the afternoon sun. “I’m sorry to disturb you.”
“You almost missed me. I was getting ready to head out to one of the fields. Need to repair some fencing on the west side before it gets dark.” Harrison dropped his hammer into a bucket, then slapped off a layer of dust from his trousers before approaching the buggy. “Is Audrey all right?”
“Of course. She’s fine.”
“Good. I just…” He shrugged a shoulder. “I just assumed if you came by, whatever you needed to speak to me about would have something to do with her, or the wedding.”
“The wedding?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Audrey wouldn’t be the first woman to have second thoughts about the man she’s going to marry, and I know that I can be a bit—”
“You don’t have anything to worry about. Audrey loves you.”
From outside appearances, it was clear why Audrey wanted to marry the man. He was handsome, thoughtful, always a gentleman. All characteristics of a womanizing con man. Catherine reeled in her thoughts—for Audrey’s sake.
“You’ve really taken to farming.”
“I guess it’s in my blood. Both my grandfather and greatgrandfather farmed this land. Though I have to say that I never imagined I’d follow in their footsteps.”
Catherine eyed a squawking hen with her brood in tow as they ran from the shelter of the barn. “From all your stories, you do seem more the adventurous type than say a…a farmer.” She studied his expression. Was that a sign of guilt on his face?
Harrison rested his hands on his hips. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“I promise not to take up much of your time, but I do need to speak with you.”
Harrison pulled his hat back on. “I suppose I could take a few minutes, though I do need to head out soon. I’ve got quite a bit of work left to finish, and it won’t be long before the sun sets.”
Catherine tried not to read anything into his hesitation. She wanted him to be innocent, but even more so, she wanted to find out the truth—because the evidence Corbin had that connected Harrison to the Masked Gang was hard to ignore. She glanced out across the endless rows of wheat to the east. Quiet. Solitude. The Tucker farm was fifteen minutes from town…and off the main road. Catherine drew in a quick breath as her gaze traveled back to the corner of the barn wall where a Winchester lay propped up. She rested her finger on the trigger, prepared to make the first move if necessary. If Harrison really was William Marker, she’d likely just walked into a peck of trouble.
“The place looks fantastic.” She worked to keep her voice steady. “Audrey told me you’ve been putting a lot of time into it.”
“This year’s crops are doing well, and the house is livable.”
“Your grandfather would be proud of you.”
“I’m guessing that my farm isn’t the reason you came by.”
Catherine studied a crease in her skirt, as second thoughts resurfaced. “No.”
“So what is it you wanted to talk to me about?”
Catherine hesitated. “I’m not sure exactly how to begin.”
She lifted up a short prayer that God would forgive her for going ahead with her unconventional plan. A confession from Harrison that he’d never set foot in Alaska was the final proof she needed, but confronting the man straight out seemed far too risky. Which meant if the Good Lord had a better way to handle the situation, He was going to have to speak up now.
Harrison drummed his fingers against his legs and shifted his gaze to the ground. “I suppose the beginning tends to be the best place.”
“All right then.” She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “I’m considering going to Alaska.”
“Alaska?” Harrison’s eyes widened. “You’re not serious, are you?”
Catherine plunged ahead with her plan—one that suddenly sounded anything but rational. “I know I’m not the first woman to consider heading west to seek out a bit of adventure.”
Harrison sat quiet for a moment. “You’re serious?”
“It’s simply a business proposition I’ve been thinking about. I have experience with numbers and selling, and I’m considering a change of scenery.” Which at the moment was at least partly true. While Alaska might not be at the top of her list, there were certainly days when she considered going away for a while. Lily wasn’t the only one in the family who’d ever considered seeing life outside of Revenge.
“But your family is here. I guess I never saw you as the adventurous type.”
Catherine chose to ignore the comment. “With Audrey getting married and Lily not far behind her, I’ve fulfilled my promise to my mother to raise my sisters. I’ve always wanted to see more of the world, and since you are obviously familiar with the terrain, I thought you’d be the perfect person to talk to.”
It wasn’t a lie. Not really. The thought had crossed her mind at least twice. Once while reading one of Emily’s dime novels about the West, and another time when she’d heard Harrison tell a story about Mabel Mason, who had opened a general store for a bunch of prospectors and returned home with a fortune a year later.
“Why Alaska?”
“You seem surprised.”
“I hate to disappoint you, Miss Morgan, but I don’t believe that the Wild West is the place for a lady of your…your position.”
Catherine tried to read his expression. Caution? Intrigue? Or perhaps he simply wanted to discourage her. Of course, reading the expressions of a storyteller like Harrison was, more than likely, going to prove to be quite challenging.
She pressed her hands together. “What do you mean, a lady of my position?”
Harrison tugged on the open collar of his shirt. “While this can’t be said for all the women who live on the frontier, many of them have…sordid reputations.”
“I’ve heard there are women who have invested in the gold mines.” Catherine plunged ahead in their defense. “And that doesn’t include those who run perfectly respectable businesses that help society. If I’m not mistaken, there’s always a need for good food when there are hungry men around.”
“Of course, but you must understand that those women are few and far between. And without a husband, I’m afraid…”
So they were back, once again, to the state of her unmarried bliss.
“And there’s always the very real possibility that you’d never find gold,” Harrison continued.
“That is a risk I’d have to take.”
“Do your sisters know about this?”
“I felt it important to gather more information before I made a decision.”
Harrison’s gaze flickered toward the horizon. Perhaps he was praying for a rescue. But Catherine hadn’t gotten what she’d come for yet.
“Why are you asking me all these questions?”
Catherine frowned. Wasn’t it obvious? “Because you’ve been there and you know what it’s like.”
“There are challenges,” he continued. “Both physical and emotional. You can’t imagine how much time and preparation it takes for a trip like this.”
“All things I’m quite prepared for. I simply thought you could recommend a town for me to set up a store as well as the best place to stake a gold claim.”
Harrison’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “You want to set up a store and invest in a claim?”
“I have managed to save up a bit of a nest egg. Not a huge one, of course, but enough, I believe, to get me started, and from what I understand, there’s plenty of need for supplies.”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure if I’m qualified to advise you in such matters, to be quite honest. If anything were to happen to you on account of what I told you…surely you understand my position. Perhaps you should ask your father as he’s just returned from Alaska.”
“My father and I are not presently on speaking terms. Besides, I’m not asking for you to ensure my safety if I decide to go. Simply to share with me some of your connections.”
His glance dropped, his nose quivered, and his ears turned pink. Interesting. Harrison was no longer the suave storyteller who had wormed his way into the lives of the Morgan women.
Catherine forged ahead. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t see yourself as qualified. You know more about Alaska than anyone else in this town.”
“I suppose that’s true, but…”
“I’ve read a few dime novels, and while I realize they are only fiction, there must be some truth to them. But not enough, I’m afraid, to tell me all I need to know if I decide to go.”
“You’ve been reading dime novels about Alaska?”
A rooster crowed. They had to be as bad as Emily’s ostriches.
“They’re almost as entertaining as your infamous stories. You must have traveled extensively in order to tell the kind of stories you tell. Met dozens of colorful prospectors. Panned for gold by the hour and listened to their stories.”
Harrison leaned forward. “What exactly is it you’re trying to say, Miss Morgan?”
Catherine nodded. She would tell him the truth. That the only thing he knew about Alaska came from the pages of those novels. The rooster’s squawking increased, but she ignored it.
“I know for a fact that you’ve never gone to Alaska.”
“Hold on.” Harrison spun around and grabbed the gun from the side of the barn.
Corbin’s words hit her like a slug from a rifle. He won’t let you walk away once he knows you know his secret.
Catherine pulled out her gun and aimed, hoping Harrison Tucker was prepared to meet his Maker.
Corbin finished washing the dried blood from the back of his hands then slid on the shirt the doctor’s wife had graciously given him. His was going to have to be burned.
Sheriff Robinson sat across the small room in the back of the doctor’s house, his injured leg now cleaned and bandaged. “Is Miss VanLeer going to make it?”
Corbin avoided the man’s gaze. “Probably not.”
“We did what we had to do.”
Corbin said nothing.
“And I saved myself the trouble of a hanging,” the sheriff continued.
Corbin slid his gun into his holster. “And we just lost the best lead we had, along with a woman who didn’t deserve to die.”
“We’ll find them.”
“When?” Corbin crossed the wood-planked floor, stopping far enough away so he couldn’t give in to the temptation of giving the man the beating he deserved. “When their leader is as infamous as Jesse James, or when he’s murdered another dozen people? You had no right to start a shootout. Now we don’t have anything.”
“And you would have had us sitting there all day, waiting?”
“The man was badly injured and we put him in a corner. He wasn’t going to last.”
Corbin turned away. There was no use explaining his actions. Nor did he plan on sharing Sutherland’s dying words. He’d keep them to himself for now. The last thing he wanted to do was have Robinson back on the case. The man had proved himself to be impulsive and irresponsible when there were lives at stake. He couldn’t afford for that to happen again.
The sheriff draped a sheet over Sutherland and stood back. “We’ll find the rest of them. For now, I’ve got a man to bury.”
Corbin headed for the town telephone at the Lancaster General Store. He’d made a promise to tell Catherine before he arrested Harrison, but more importantly, he wanted to make sure that she and her sisters were out of harm’s way when he confronted the man.
Lily answered the call and must have heard the tremor in his voice. “Is there a problem, Sheriff?”
“Yes…no…” He gripped the counter. “Nothing that I can’t take care of. Where is Catherine? I need to speak to her.”
“She had an errand to take care of, out at Harrison’s farm. Said she wanted to drop off a few jars of peaches.”
Corbin froze. “Harrison’s farm?”
“Yes. It’s funny, isn’t it? He and Audrey will be married next week, but I think Catherine is the one who worries most about him not getting enough to eat.”
Corbin sucked in a breath. Catherine had no idea who she was dealing with. If Harrison found out that she knew who he was, he’d show her no mercy. Regrets of how he’d handled things gripped him. He’d told Catherine to let him take care of things, but she’d never been one to listen. He should have realized that.
“Sheriff, are you still there?”
“Yes, and I need you to do something for me.”
“Of course, what is it?”
It wasn’t the first time he’d been grateful for the invention of this newfangled communication device. “Is Audrey with you?”
“Yes, she’s working in the store right now.”
“Good. I want you to close the store for the day and wait in the house for me to return to town.”
There was a long pause on the line. “I don’t understand, Sheriff. If something’s wrong—”
“Just do as I say. Please.”
Corbin hung up the telephone then headed for Revenge. Anger still seared through him at how the sheriff’s stupidity had managed to cost them their one lead because he’d insisted on playing the role of a hero. The town was already celebrating the capture and death of one of the infamous gang members, but no one seemed to realize that Sutherland had held key information. And with him dead, Corbin knew little more today than he had yesterday.
Unless he could get to Harrison in time.
Otherwise, the Masked Gang would strike again, and perhaps seek revenge for Frank Sutherland’s death. Which could put Catherine and her sisters in the middle of a bloodbath. Corbin smacked his thighs against the horse and raced toward Revenge. His talk with Harrison the week before had convinced him that the man was hiding something. Now Sutherland’s words confirmed that Harrison was nothing more than a dirty bank robber who had no more claimed a stake on the Alaskan soil than Corbin’s great aunt Beulah.
Thirty minutes later, he approached the farm, praying he wasn’t too late. He should have brought a posse with him, but with the possibility of Catherine’s life at stake, there hadn’t been time to seek additional help. Besides, few in town were capable of facing the leader of the notorious gang. The day-to-day activities of a sheriff in a town like Revenge normally left little need for deputies. If he wasn’t on the trail of this gang, his time would be filled with mundane tasks like investigating petty theft crimes and the occasional street brawl. Not chasing down killers and bank robbers.
Catherine’s buggy sat near the barn, confirming what Lily had told him. He slowed down to weigh his options. There was the slight chance that Sutherland had set him up, meaning this was nothing more than a social call, but his gut told him not to take any chances. The last thing he needed was another hostage situation, especially with Catherine involved.
A shot rang out on the far side of the barn.
Corbin jumped down from his horse. His boots crunched through a strip of gravel as he made his move toward the barn. Any doubts of who Harrison Tucker really was vanished. Harrison stood beside Catherine with a rifle in his hands.