Outlaw Heart, page 11
“Thanks. Mind if I just hold on to your arm? It’s harder to see out here than I’d expected.”
Yes, he minded, but he couldn’t very well tell her that. “Sure. Go ahead.”
She looped her arm through his, and Brett clenched his teeth at the sparks shooting through him. Lord, help me to not be attracted to Lottie.
“The roundup’s gone well. I sure will be glad to sleep in my own bed though.” Lottie giggled, a very pleasant sound to Brett’s ears.
“You sure handled yourself well out here. I didn’t know you were such a cowgirl.”
“There are lots of things you don’t know about me. And thanks for the compliment.”
He knew she was an outlaw. What would she say if he told her that?
“Don’t forget I lived over half my life in Texas. I grew up riding and chasing cattle.”
“What did your mom think of that?”
“She tried to make me act more like a girl, but with two brothers, it wasn’t easy. I wanted to be just like them and my pa. Besides, Ma’s not a half-bad cowgirl herself.”
Brett figured if they kept talking he would forget about her clinging to his arm and what her closeness did to him. “How did your father die?”
Lottie tsk-tsked, much like he’d heard Leyna do. Brett grinned in the dark.
“It was a terrible accident. He was returning home when a big storm hit. Rain turned to ice and made the trail slick. We think his heavily loaded wagon must have slipped off the edge of the trail where there’s a steep drop-off. We found his body and the smashed wagon and dead horses the next day.”
“I’m sorry about that. Must have been quite a shock.” Brett laid his free hand over hers.
“It was. I can still remember it. Adam and I were just fourteen. Adam took it really hard. In fact, we just found out last year that he blamed himself.”
Brett stopped walking. “Why?”
“Pa had told him to replace one of the wagon wheels that was cracked. Adam was sketching that morning and got caught up in his drawing and didn’t change it. All that time he’d blamed himself, even to the extent that he quit drawing for many years.”
“But it wasn’t his fault, was it?”
Brett felt Lottie’s arm lift and drop as she shrugged. “I don’t think so. How could we ever know for sure? Nobody blames him. It was just an unfortunate accident.”
“I understand now why Quinn is so protective of you.”
Anna heaved a sigh. “I’ll probably end up an old maid because he won’t let any man get close enough to get to know me.”
Brett couldn’t help noticing how close he was to her. Was Jack aware that his ranch hand—a U.S. marshal, at that—was walking with his sister in the dark? He couldn’t help smiling at the irony of it all. Yes sirree, he’d captured Lottie Sallinger without as much as a fuss. The problem was. . .she had captured his heart. He swallowed the lump in his throat.
Of course, he had no proof he was a marshal, not without his badge. He’d been meaning to go search for it along the creek bed where the bear attack had occurred, but he hadn’t been able to get away yet.
“So what are we going to do about the orphans?”
Brett halted and turned to face her. His shadow blocked the moon’s light from her face, so he took a step sideways. “Tell me again what you saw.”
“Oh, Brett. It was awful. That scoundrel has those poor children digging in the dirt all day, looking for something.”
“Did you tell your brother what you saw?”
She shook her head. “He’s been too busy with the roundup. I can’t sleep at night thinking about how awful things are for the orphans. I’ve got to do something. I can’t let them keep suffering.”
She clutched his forearms. “They were digging with shovels—barefoot. Can you imagine how that must hurt?”
Her concern for the youngsters about did him in. He wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her. “I knew something wasn’t right there.”
“Stout is using them like prisoners.”
“Listen to me. I don’t want you going there alone again. If you have to go, I’ll go with you.”
“What about Quinn and your job here?”
“I’ll quit my job if I have to.”
Anna smiled, looking up at him with those big brown eyes as if he were her hero. The light breeze whipped a strand of spun gold across her cheek. His mouth went dry, and he forced himself not to look at her lips. Oh, brother, was he in hot water.
❧
Anna couldn’t help smiling at Brett’s protectiveness. Why, he sounded as if he really cared for her. If only he’d kiss her. . .
But something was holding him back.
“What do you think they could be searching for?”
Brett shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“That area is rugged. As far as I know, nobody has ever lived there.”
Brett suddenly let go of her arm and snapped his fingers. “I know! I heard mention in town of a payroll shipment that some outlaws had buried in the Badlands around Medora. That must be what they’re hunting.”
Anna gasped. “I bet you’re right. What else could it be?”
“I need to see for myself. I’ll ride out at dawn the day after tomorrow if things work out and follow them like you did.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No, you stay at home.” Brett laid his hands on her shoulders and tightened his grasp as if he meant business.
“You can’t force me to stay home. Besides, how will you explain your being gone to Quinn?”
Brett remained silent. Anna wished she could see his face, but his back was to the moon. At dinner, she’d watched him across the campfire. He looked even more handsome with stubble darkening his jaw and his face tanned from the sun. Her stomach had done funny things, as if there were critters in there turning somersaults. Was she falling in love? Is that why she tingled all over whenever he touched her?
“I’ll tell Quinn I want to ride out and watch the sunrise and want you to escort me—and we will watch it, so I’ll be telling the truth. All right?”
Brett rolled his head, trying to work the tension out of his neck. “I guess that would work, but I want you to stay back if things go bad.”
“What do you intend to do?”
“Nothing yet. I want to see what’s going on. Then I’ll go to the sheriff.”
“Thank you, Brett. It means so much to me that you’re willing to risk your job to help those orphans.”
Before she considered her actions, she stepped on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. His stubble pricked her lips, or maybe that was the fire she felt ignited within herself. Anna turned and hurried back to camp, afraid to see Brett’s response.
Fourteen
The morning after they’d all returned from roundup, Brett and Lottie lay side by side on their stomachs on the bluff overlooking the orphanage, after watching a glorious sunrise. There was no movement below, but the occasional shout of a child could be heard. A dozen chickens roamed about in a small pen behind the house, and a goat was tethered to a cottonwood tree, with its twin kids butting heads and frolicking around her. One goat was hardly enough to provide milk for so many children. Brett’s ire rose at Lloyd Stout—or maybe he was still angry with himself.
The cold boulder, not yet warmed from the sun’s touch, chilled his bones. Maybe he was still upset with himself over his lack of response to Lottie’s kiss. Why hadn’t he stopped her? Told her it couldn’t happen again?
It had been an impulse on her part, he was sure of that. He could tell she was embarrassed. She hadn’t looked at him once they returned to camp, and she’d avoided him most of yesterday. ’Course, he’d been busy, helping to unload the chuck wagon and assisting Cookie in putting things away. And all the time he’d worked, he’d thought of Lottie.
He slid a glance her way. The sun glimmered on her hair like pure gold. He wanted to reach out and touch it, feel its softness. Gazing at her profile, he noticed for the first time that her pert nose turned up the tiniest bit at the end. Her thin brows matched her hair, and her appealing lips were pressed together.
He forced his attention back to the house. He was a goner. He’d stayed too long at the Rocking M, and now his mind would need a good scrubbing to rid its chambers of Lottie.
He’d heard of other lawmen falling for one of their captives, but he never would have believed it could happen to him. Gazing up at the sky, he made another appeal for help. C’mon, Lord. I need to find evidence of that bank robbery, so I can finish this job and get on home. I’ve drawn a blank so far. You’ve gotta help. I can’t act on my attraction to Lottie. It’s wrong.
Good thing he was quitting the U.S. Marshals after this. If a woman could get under his skin like Lottie had, he was better off staying on his ranch, herding cattle rather than chasing outlaws. A man with his attention divided could get himself—or someone else—killed.
“Look!” Lottie hissed and scooted closer. “I told you so.”
Brett watched a half-grown boy come out of the house and enter a lean-to. He tossed out a mixture of picks and shovels. Another boy, smaller than the first, went inside the rickety barn and soon returned with Stout’s saddled horse.
One by one, children came dragging out of the house, rummaged through the tools, and took one. A trio of girls headed to the privy, while the other children stood or sat on the ground. Lloyd Stout ventured out last, stretching and patting his oversize belly. It took him three tries before he managed to mount the horse.
Brett prayed he’d see enough today to have the man behind bars by tonight—as long as the sheriff wasn’t in cahoots with Stout.
Lottie started to rise, but Brett threw his arm over her. “Stay down. They can see us too easily.”
She looked at him with wide brown eyes. “They never saw me last time.”
Stubborn woman. He needed to withdraw his arm but feared she’d get up again. Lottie turned her head to watch something to her right and her warm breath teased his cheek. How could holding her feel so right when he knew it was wrong?
If truth be told, he’d wanted to pull her in his arms the other night and kiss her. Would she have welcomed his kiss? Somehow he thought she might.
The children lined up and followed Lloyd Stout up a path and then disappeared from sight. Brett couldn’t decide whether to follow on foot or horseback.
“Can I get up now? They’re gone.”
Brett peered over at Lottie. Her face was only a foot away. All he had to do was lean a bit. . .
“Get up, Brett. We don’t want them to get away. They might not be going to the same place I saw them go the other day.” Lottie squirmed until he rolled away.
Brett shook his head and jumped up. Being alone with Lottie was getting dangerous. They moved back from the edge of the butte and hurried back to the horses.
“I think we should ride instead of walking. They went over a mile the last time I watched them.” Lottie mounted without waiting for a response. She nudged Bella forward.
Brett shook his head. “Let me go first.”
Lottie sighed but waited. “Why do men always have to go first?”
Brett grinned. “So we can protect you, princess.”
❧
Anna’s breath caught in her throat at the endearment. But did it mean anything to him?
The ranch hands had often called her endearing names, especially when she was younger, but Brett never had. And why “princess”? Did he think she was spoiled? Adam had called her that a time or two when teasing her, but hadn’t she shown Brett she was willing to get dirty to help the orphans? Didn’t she pull her weight on the roundup?
Anna pressed her lips together. At some point her feelings for Brett had sprouted from admiration to love. But loving a cowhand was a waste of time. Quinn would never allow them to court, much less marry, even if Brett desired that also. If her brother even suspected there was an attraction growing between them, he’d never let Brett escort her anywhere again.
She leaned back in the saddle, stirrups forward as Bella descended to the valley floor. Brett glanced back at her, probably wanting to be sure she’d made it down the steep hill. She wasn’t a baby. Couldn’t he see she was a woman well past marrying age? And she was interested in him.
He slowed his horse as he rounded the bend then urged him around the corner. Anna followed. This time the children took a different trail, but their tracks were just as easy to see as before. Half an hour later, she followed Brett as he crawled out on another butte and looked down. A muscle in his jaw clenched.
“It’s the same as before,” Anna whispered. “The bigger kid works the pick, and the younger one shovels the dirt. They’re looking for something. That’s obvious.”
Stout sat atop his horse, riding from one hole to another. “Dig it deeper. You ain’t gonna find nothing in the topsoil.”
“Just look at him,” Anna whispered, “dressed in his nice clothes and riding that fine horse while those poor children do manual labor. If I weren’t a God-fearing woman. . .”
“Shh.”
“Are you going to do anything? Those children have suffered long enough.”
Brett clenched his fist and scowled. “I’m thinking on it. I don’t want the kids to get hurt.”
One girl, who looked to be nine or ten, stood and pressed her hands into her back after wielding the heavy pick. Her gaze landed on Brett and Anna, and her eyes widened. She glanced at Mr. Stout and then went back to work.
Anna rushed backward, sending pebbles clattering off the edge of the butte. Brett jumped back. She rubbed her hands together and wiped the dirt off her jacket and riding skirt.
“You think Mr. Stout saw us?” Anna asked as she hurried toward Bella.
“Don’t think so.” Brett followed her.
“So. . .did you see enough?”
His angry glare made her want to never get on his bad side. “Yes. I need to get to town and tell the sheriff what I saw.”
“All right, then. Let’s go.”
Excitement surged through Anna like a flash flood. For the first time in her life, she felt she might actually make a difference in someone’s life.
❧
Brett watched Lottie dismount and march into the sheriff’s office without even waiting on him. Again, it struck him odd how an outlaw could have the audacity to enter a sheriff’s domain without a speck of apprehension. Either she was very certain of her disguise as Anna McFarland, or she wasn’t the woman he thought she was. And he was wondering that more and more, and hoping it also. Why, if Anna truly wasn’t Lottie Sallinger. . .
His heart soared at the possibilities. But he had that drawing in his pocket. And no evidence. How long should he keep looking?
He dismounted, looped his reins over the hitching post, and followed Lottie into the office. She was already halfway through her spiel, like a country peddler. The sheriff’s gaze darted to Brett and back to Lottie. She finally ran out of steam.
“So, you see, we’ve got to do something to save those children.”
Sheriff Jones scratched his jaw. “Those folks tend to stay to themselves up there. I’ve been a bit suspicious of that place, but I don’t know that any laws have been broken. Not sure what I can do.”
“You can protect those orphans. He’s mistreating them. Why, they don’t even go to school.” Lottie hiked her chin and shoved her hands to her slim waist.
“Tell me what you saw.” The sheriff turned to Brett.
“Same as she did. Stout dressed in his fancy clothes, riding a well-fed buckskin, and those barefoot kids digging in the dirt with picks and shovels. We saw the home, too. The kids don’t have decent clothes, and some of the smaller kids had runny noses. The law should protect such little ones.”
“There’s no law about kids having to go to school, but I’ve gotten a notice or two about children gone missing around Bismarck and Mandan. A boy was found wandering the hills around the Circle G Ranch last month, but he didn’t fit the description of any of those lost children. He was sickly and didn’t know his name or how he came about getting lost. After the doc treated him, I took him out to the orphanage. I was grateful they took him in, even though the place is kind of rough looking. Guess I could ride out and check up on the boy and have a look around.”
Brett leaned against the wall of the small office. “I have a theory. I think Stout’s looking for that lost gold shipment that’s rumored to be hidden in the hills.”
The sheriff twisted the end of his mustache. “You know, you might be right. I bet that is what they’re doing.”
“That money belongs to the railroad. I’m sure there’s a reward for it.”
Lottie tossed her arms up. “Who cares about money when children are suffering? If you’re not going to do anything, I will.”
She turned and strode toward the door. Brett blocked her way. “You’re not going there alone.”
“You two are just yakking while the orphans are killing themselves doing a grown man’s job.” Tears glistened in her eyes. She was really taking this whole thing quite seriously for someone who held up a bank. Must be that even outlaws had a tender spot—some bigger than others.
He held on to her shoulders. “We’ll take care of this. Right, Sheriff?”
The man held Brett’s gaze and nodded. “Tonight. After dinner, when we’re sure the children are at home. I don’t want any of them getting hurt if things go bad.”
Fifteen
“So, what should we do now?” Anna stood outside the sheriff’s office; fingers of the morning sun touched her face. “We can’t stay in town all day.”
Brett stretched. “Don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. How about we eat some breakfast and then decide what to do?”
Anna nodded and walked beside Brett on the boardwalk. The sleepy town of Medora was barely awake, and only a handful of other people were out and about. Brett’s stomach growled, and he wondered what the orphans had eaten for breakfast.
After a heaping plate of fried ham, eggs, biscuits, and gravy, Brett leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee. He watched Lottie swipe the napkin across her mouth and held back a grin. She wasn’t the most dainty of women; in fact, when she was in a hurry to get somewhere, she tended to swagger like a man. Could be because of that split skirt she insisted on wearing so often. And he’d seen her jump clear off the porch without even using the steps a time or two when she thought nobody was watching.
Yes, he minded, but he couldn’t very well tell her that. “Sure. Go ahead.”
She looped her arm through his, and Brett clenched his teeth at the sparks shooting through him. Lord, help me to not be attracted to Lottie.
“The roundup’s gone well. I sure will be glad to sleep in my own bed though.” Lottie giggled, a very pleasant sound to Brett’s ears.
“You sure handled yourself well out here. I didn’t know you were such a cowgirl.”
“There are lots of things you don’t know about me. And thanks for the compliment.”
He knew she was an outlaw. What would she say if he told her that?
“Don’t forget I lived over half my life in Texas. I grew up riding and chasing cattle.”
“What did your mom think of that?”
“She tried to make me act more like a girl, but with two brothers, it wasn’t easy. I wanted to be just like them and my pa. Besides, Ma’s not a half-bad cowgirl herself.”
Brett figured if they kept talking he would forget about her clinging to his arm and what her closeness did to him. “How did your father die?”
Lottie tsk-tsked, much like he’d heard Leyna do. Brett grinned in the dark.
“It was a terrible accident. He was returning home when a big storm hit. Rain turned to ice and made the trail slick. We think his heavily loaded wagon must have slipped off the edge of the trail where there’s a steep drop-off. We found his body and the smashed wagon and dead horses the next day.”
“I’m sorry about that. Must have been quite a shock.” Brett laid his free hand over hers.
“It was. I can still remember it. Adam and I were just fourteen. Adam took it really hard. In fact, we just found out last year that he blamed himself.”
Brett stopped walking. “Why?”
“Pa had told him to replace one of the wagon wheels that was cracked. Adam was sketching that morning and got caught up in his drawing and didn’t change it. All that time he’d blamed himself, even to the extent that he quit drawing for many years.”
“But it wasn’t his fault, was it?”
Brett felt Lottie’s arm lift and drop as she shrugged. “I don’t think so. How could we ever know for sure? Nobody blames him. It was just an unfortunate accident.”
“I understand now why Quinn is so protective of you.”
Anna heaved a sigh. “I’ll probably end up an old maid because he won’t let any man get close enough to get to know me.”
Brett couldn’t help noticing how close he was to her. Was Jack aware that his ranch hand—a U.S. marshal, at that—was walking with his sister in the dark? He couldn’t help smiling at the irony of it all. Yes sirree, he’d captured Lottie Sallinger without as much as a fuss. The problem was. . .she had captured his heart. He swallowed the lump in his throat.
Of course, he had no proof he was a marshal, not without his badge. He’d been meaning to go search for it along the creek bed where the bear attack had occurred, but he hadn’t been able to get away yet.
“So what are we going to do about the orphans?”
Brett halted and turned to face her. His shadow blocked the moon’s light from her face, so he took a step sideways. “Tell me again what you saw.”
“Oh, Brett. It was awful. That scoundrel has those poor children digging in the dirt all day, looking for something.”
“Did you tell your brother what you saw?”
She shook her head. “He’s been too busy with the roundup. I can’t sleep at night thinking about how awful things are for the orphans. I’ve got to do something. I can’t let them keep suffering.”
She clutched his forearms. “They were digging with shovels—barefoot. Can you imagine how that must hurt?”
Her concern for the youngsters about did him in. He wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her. “I knew something wasn’t right there.”
“Stout is using them like prisoners.”
“Listen to me. I don’t want you going there alone again. If you have to go, I’ll go with you.”
“What about Quinn and your job here?”
“I’ll quit my job if I have to.”
Anna smiled, looking up at him with those big brown eyes as if he were her hero. The light breeze whipped a strand of spun gold across her cheek. His mouth went dry, and he forced himself not to look at her lips. Oh, brother, was he in hot water.
❧
Anna couldn’t help smiling at Brett’s protectiveness. Why, he sounded as if he really cared for her. If only he’d kiss her. . .
But something was holding him back.
“What do you think they could be searching for?”
Brett shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“That area is rugged. As far as I know, nobody has ever lived there.”
Brett suddenly let go of her arm and snapped his fingers. “I know! I heard mention in town of a payroll shipment that some outlaws had buried in the Badlands around Medora. That must be what they’re hunting.”
Anna gasped. “I bet you’re right. What else could it be?”
“I need to see for myself. I’ll ride out at dawn the day after tomorrow if things work out and follow them like you did.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No, you stay at home.” Brett laid his hands on her shoulders and tightened his grasp as if he meant business.
“You can’t force me to stay home. Besides, how will you explain your being gone to Quinn?”
Brett remained silent. Anna wished she could see his face, but his back was to the moon. At dinner, she’d watched him across the campfire. He looked even more handsome with stubble darkening his jaw and his face tanned from the sun. Her stomach had done funny things, as if there were critters in there turning somersaults. Was she falling in love? Is that why she tingled all over whenever he touched her?
“I’ll tell Quinn I want to ride out and watch the sunrise and want you to escort me—and we will watch it, so I’ll be telling the truth. All right?”
Brett rolled his head, trying to work the tension out of his neck. “I guess that would work, but I want you to stay back if things go bad.”
“What do you intend to do?”
“Nothing yet. I want to see what’s going on. Then I’ll go to the sheriff.”
“Thank you, Brett. It means so much to me that you’re willing to risk your job to help those orphans.”
Before she considered her actions, she stepped on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. His stubble pricked her lips, or maybe that was the fire she felt ignited within herself. Anna turned and hurried back to camp, afraid to see Brett’s response.
Fourteen
The morning after they’d all returned from roundup, Brett and Lottie lay side by side on their stomachs on the bluff overlooking the orphanage, after watching a glorious sunrise. There was no movement below, but the occasional shout of a child could be heard. A dozen chickens roamed about in a small pen behind the house, and a goat was tethered to a cottonwood tree, with its twin kids butting heads and frolicking around her. One goat was hardly enough to provide milk for so many children. Brett’s ire rose at Lloyd Stout—or maybe he was still angry with himself.
The cold boulder, not yet warmed from the sun’s touch, chilled his bones. Maybe he was still upset with himself over his lack of response to Lottie’s kiss. Why hadn’t he stopped her? Told her it couldn’t happen again?
It had been an impulse on her part, he was sure of that. He could tell she was embarrassed. She hadn’t looked at him once they returned to camp, and she’d avoided him most of yesterday. ’Course, he’d been busy, helping to unload the chuck wagon and assisting Cookie in putting things away. And all the time he’d worked, he’d thought of Lottie.
He slid a glance her way. The sun glimmered on her hair like pure gold. He wanted to reach out and touch it, feel its softness. Gazing at her profile, he noticed for the first time that her pert nose turned up the tiniest bit at the end. Her thin brows matched her hair, and her appealing lips were pressed together.
He forced his attention back to the house. He was a goner. He’d stayed too long at the Rocking M, and now his mind would need a good scrubbing to rid its chambers of Lottie.
He’d heard of other lawmen falling for one of their captives, but he never would have believed it could happen to him. Gazing up at the sky, he made another appeal for help. C’mon, Lord. I need to find evidence of that bank robbery, so I can finish this job and get on home. I’ve drawn a blank so far. You’ve gotta help. I can’t act on my attraction to Lottie. It’s wrong.
Good thing he was quitting the U.S. Marshals after this. If a woman could get under his skin like Lottie had, he was better off staying on his ranch, herding cattle rather than chasing outlaws. A man with his attention divided could get himself—or someone else—killed.
“Look!” Lottie hissed and scooted closer. “I told you so.”
Brett watched a half-grown boy come out of the house and enter a lean-to. He tossed out a mixture of picks and shovels. Another boy, smaller than the first, went inside the rickety barn and soon returned with Stout’s saddled horse.
One by one, children came dragging out of the house, rummaged through the tools, and took one. A trio of girls headed to the privy, while the other children stood or sat on the ground. Lloyd Stout ventured out last, stretching and patting his oversize belly. It took him three tries before he managed to mount the horse.
Brett prayed he’d see enough today to have the man behind bars by tonight—as long as the sheriff wasn’t in cahoots with Stout.
Lottie started to rise, but Brett threw his arm over her. “Stay down. They can see us too easily.”
She looked at him with wide brown eyes. “They never saw me last time.”
Stubborn woman. He needed to withdraw his arm but feared she’d get up again. Lottie turned her head to watch something to her right and her warm breath teased his cheek. How could holding her feel so right when he knew it was wrong?
If truth be told, he’d wanted to pull her in his arms the other night and kiss her. Would she have welcomed his kiss? Somehow he thought she might.
The children lined up and followed Lloyd Stout up a path and then disappeared from sight. Brett couldn’t decide whether to follow on foot or horseback.
“Can I get up now? They’re gone.”
Brett peered over at Lottie. Her face was only a foot away. All he had to do was lean a bit. . .
“Get up, Brett. We don’t want them to get away. They might not be going to the same place I saw them go the other day.” Lottie squirmed until he rolled away.
Brett shook his head and jumped up. Being alone with Lottie was getting dangerous. They moved back from the edge of the butte and hurried back to the horses.
“I think we should ride instead of walking. They went over a mile the last time I watched them.” Lottie mounted without waiting for a response. She nudged Bella forward.
Brett shook his head. “Let me go first.”
Lottie sighed but waited. “Why do men always have to go first?”
Brett grinned. “So we can protect you, princess.”
❧
Anna’s breath caught in her throat at the endearment. But did it mean anything to him?
The ranch hands had often called her endearing names, especially when she was younger, but Brett never had. And why “princess”? Did he think she was spoiled? Adam had called her that a time or two when teasing her, but hadn’t she shown Brett she was willing to get dirty to help the orphans? Didn’t she pull her weight on the roundup?
Anna pressed her lips together. At some point her feelings for Brett had sprouted from admiration to love. But loving a cowhand was a waste of time. Quinn would never allow them to court, much less marry, even if Brett desired that also. If her brother even suspected there was an attraction growing between them, he’d never let Brett escort her anywhere again.
She leaned back in the saddle, stirrups forward as Bella descended to the valley floor. Brett glanced back at her, probably wanting to be sure she’d made it down the steep hill. She wasn’t a baby. Couldn’t he see she was a woman well past marrying age? And she was interested in him.
He slowed his horse as he rounded the bend then urged him around the corner. Anna followed. This time the children took a different trail, but their tracks were just as easy to see as before. Half an hour later, she followed Brett as he crawled out on another butte and looked down. A muscle in his jaw clenched.
“It’s the same as before,” Anna whispered. “The bigger kid works the pick, and the younger one shovels the dirt. They’re looking for something. That’s obvious.”
Stout sat atop his horse, riding from one hole to another. “Dig it deeper. You ain’t gonna find nothing in the topsoil.”
“Just look at him,” Anna whispered, “dressed in his nice clothes and riding that fine horse while those poor children do manual labor. If I weren’t a God-fearing woman. . .”
“Shh.”
“Are you going to do anything? Those children have suffered long enough.”
Brett clenched his fist and scowled. “I’m thinking on it. I don’t want the kids to get hurt.”
One girl, who looked to be nine or ten, stood and pressed her hands into her back after wielding the heavy pick. Her gaze landed on Brett and Anna, and her eyes widened. She glanced at Mr. Stout and then went back to work.
Anna rushed backward, sending pebbles clattering off the edge of the butte. Brett jumped back. She rubbed her hands together and wiped the dirt off her jacket and riding skirt.
“You think Mr. Stout saw us?” Anna asked as she hurried toward Bella.
“Don’t think so.” Brett followed her.
“So. . .did you see enough?”
His angry glare made her want to never get on his bad side. “Yes. I need to get to town and tell the sheriff what I saw.”
“All right, then. Let’s go.”
Excitement surged through Anna like a flash flood. For the first time in her life, she felt she might actually make a difference in someone’s life.
❧
Brett watched Lottie dismount and march into the sheriff’s office without even waiting on him. Again, it struck him odd how an outlaw could have the audacity to enter a sheriff’s domain without a speck of apprehension. Either she was very certain of her disguise as Anna McFarland, or she wasn’t the woman he thought she was. And he was wondering that more and more, and hoping it also. Why, if Anna truly wasn’t Lottie Sallinger. . .
His heart soared at the possibilities. But he had that drawing in his pocket. And no evidence. How long should he keep looking?
He dismounted, looped his reins over the hitching post, and followed Lottie into the office. She was already halfway through her spiel, like a country peddler. The sheriff’s gaze darted to Brett and back to Lottie. She finally ran out of steam.
“So, you see, we’ve got to do something to save those children.”
Sheriff Jones scratched his jaw. “Those folks tend to stay to themselves up there. I’ve been a bit suspicious of that place, but I don’t know that any laws have been broken. Not sure what I can do.”
“You can protect those orphans. He’s mistreating them. Why, they don’t even go to school.” Lottie hiked her chin and shoved her hands to her slim waist.
“Tell me what you saw.” The sheriff turned to Brett.
“Same as she did. Stout dressed in his fancy clothes, riding a well-fed buckskin, and those barefoot kids digging in the dirt with picks and shovels. We saw the home, too. The kids don’t have decent clothes, and some of the smaller kids had runny noses. The law should protect such little ones.”
“There’s no law about kids having to go to school, but I’ve gotten a notice or two about children gone missing around Bismarck and Mandan. A boy was found wandering the hills around the Circle G Ranch last month, but he didn’t fit the description of any of those lost children. He was sickly and didn’t know his name or how he came about getting lost. After the doc treated him, I took him out to the orphanage. I was grateful they took him in, even though the place is kind of rough looking. Guess I could ride out and check up on the boy and have a look around.”
Brett leaned against the wall of the small office. “I have a theory. I think Stout’s looking for that lost gold shipment that’s rumored to be hidden in the hills.”
The sheriff twisted the end of his mustache. “You know, you might be right. I bet that is what they’re doing.”
“That money belongs to the railroad. I’m sure there’s a reward for it.”
Lottie tossed her arms up. “Who cares about money when children are suffering? If you’re not going to do anything, I will.”
She turned and strode toward the door. Brett blocked her way. “You’re not going there alone.”
“You two are just yakking while the orphans are killing themselves doing a grown man’s job.” Tears glistened in her eyes. She was really taking this whole thing quite seriously for someone who held up a bank. Must be that even outlaws had a tender spot—some bigger than others.
He held on to her shoulders. “We’ll take care of this. Right, Sheriff?”
The man held Brett’s gaze and nodded. “Tonight. After dinner, when we’re sure the children are at home. I don’t want any of them getting hurt if things go bad.”
Fifteen
“So, what should we do now?” Anna stood outside the sheriff’s office; fingers of the morning sun touched her face. “We can’t stay in town all day.”
Brett stretched. “Don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. How about we eat some breakfast and then decide what to do?”
Anna nodded and walked beside Brett on the boardwalk. The sleepy town of Medora was barely awake, and only a handful of other people were out and about. Brett’s stomach growled, and he wondered what the orphans had eaten for breakfast.
After a heaping plate of fried ham, eggs, biscuits, and gravy, Brett leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee. He watched Lottie swipe the napkin across her mouth and held back a grin. She wasn’t the most dainty of women; in fact, when she was in a hurry to get somewhere, she tended to swagger like a man. Could be because of that split skirt she insisted on wearing so often. And he’d seen her jump clear off the porch without even using the steps a time or two when she thought nobody was watching.
