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“They were ready. At night. Doesn’t take much to deduce.”
Sam sighed. “Well, then go ahead. What’s your take on things?”
“Wells Fargo is aware of all you just said. They think it is likely the same group of thieves. Their ploy was successful, which makes Wells Fargo believe they’ll target you again. They’ll gain a certain arrogance in succeeding. Criminals do. And the fact that you are so close to Mexico makes it all too easy for them to slip over the border and disappear.”
Sam listened, but then pulled back, his gaze clouding over. “I just can’t get past why the agency sent you after what happened. Because of you, my sister is a widow.”
The barely controlled emotion shook Tom up. He had known, even though it had been an entire year, that he would encounter anger. Still, Sam’s attitude made him feel all over again how unworthy he was to be alive when Cranston, Amanda’s husband, wasn’t. “I’ll get the job done, Sam. If anything, I have more at stake in the outcome than any other field agent.”
Sam let out a sigh. “Guess you have something there.”
“Believe me, no one wants this more than I do. I don’t care how messy things get.”
Sam clasped his hands over his stomach and blew out a breath.
Tom could tell he wasn’t getting through to him. “Let me put it another way. Wells Fargo hired me. Not you. I answer to them so I am going to do this whether I have your cooperation or not. Without it, there is more of a chance I won’t be successful and you may lose more gold. If we work together things will go smoother. We can collaborate and figure out a few moves that keep us ahead of any robbery.”
Sam snorted. “Persistent, aren’t you?”
He was still on shaky ground. That wasn’t a yes from Sam, but at least he was able to joke about it a little. “I know what I have to do and thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“You’re welcome.” Sam huffed, still tense. Then slowly he relaxed his shoulders. “However, I agree. We do have to work together.”
Tom waited. This entire meeting was awkward as they both tried to assess where they stood with each other.
“You’ve got nerve, Barrington, showing up here after all that has happened,” Sam finally said. “But then maybe that’s exactly what is needed in this situation.”
Nerve had nothing to do with it. What he had was nothing to lose. He was through living his life in the shadows like an injured dog, the way he had for the past year. Losing his partner had eaten at him until he barely recognized himself.
“I tell myself there was no way you could have prevented Cranston’s death,” Sam said. “Given the same circumstances, I might have called it just like you did. Still doesn’t mean that I can accept what happened.”
Whatever had made Sam say that much, Tom was grateful for it. At least they were talking. “I don’t expect you to. I wish it had gone the other way.” He could commiserate and tell him that not a day went by that he didn’t regret what had happened. He could still see his partner crumpling to the floor, still see the shock on his face as his life bled out. They had orchestrated any number of scenarios to make sure they each had each other’s back, just not the presence of a little boy who should never have been on that train car in the first place.
“But it didn’t,” Sam stated. “And along with Cranston, Amanda’s life was destroyed.”
Amanda blamed him, but no more than he did himself. Surely she hoped he would have died instead of her husband. It was the number one reason he didn’t want a wife or family with the type of job he had. It wasn’t fair to them. He’d talked to Cranston a number of times before the man married, trying to dissuade him from getting hitched. His warning had fallen on deaf ears. And now it had all come to pass. Being right didn’t make it any easier to swallow.
“I heard she had a girl.”
For the first time, Sam smiled. “Lacy is a little over a year old now.” He stood and paced the length of the small room twice, then came back to stand in front of him. “All right, Tom. It is obvious this is personal. I can’t help but think I’d want to do the same thing if it were me. Meet me at the bank first thing Monday morning. I’ll have your stipend and we can hash out any further details then.”
Tom stood. It felt as if the first obstacle had been overcome. After the ride south, his horse needed another day of rest and so did he before heading into the backcountry. “Fair enough, but I want to leave immediately afterward. I need to get an idea of the lay of the backcountry.”
Chapter Three (#ulink_a6a4ec67-df0e-533b-b650-9e4aadee0d41)
Pastor Warner’s sermons usually held her attention, but this morning Elizabeth couldn’t concentrate one wit on his words. She found herself checking the pews behind her, scanning for Tom’s presence. When she didn’t see him, she wondered why she even hoped he might attend services. The thought exasperated her. Her brother would call her naive and foolish, and in this instance, she would agree with him. When Tom was posted here, he would attend services with the others from the fort. It was a way for them to mingle with those in the community and also a way to escape the daily sameness at Fort Rosecrans. But now he was no longer in the military and he certainly didn’t have a stake in anything in La Playa.
As the pastor droned on, Elizabeth’s thoughts drifted back to when Tom had been posted here in town. The memories of him came back as vivid as though it were yesterday. Especially the last time she’d seen him.
It had been near the end of the workday, that day in late July. The daylight lingered long after the last customer had left the store. She had yanked a bolt of fabric out from under the stack of other bolts and spread it on the table, thinking that the creamy white cotton would be perfect for pillow cases. It was for her trousseau and it was one thing she knew would be appreciated if only by her. Preston had stopped by earlier and listened with a disinterested expression at her idea for crocheting edging out of the same color thread and adding pink rose florets for further decoration. “Feminine nonsense,” he called it. Her brother had chuckled condescendingly and the two of them had left for a drink at the saloon. Those two, she had come to realize, were cut from the same cloth. She remembered that the thought had bothered her.
Earlier that morning, Terrance had accepted his birthday present—a deep reddish-brown shirt she’d sewn with embroidered initials on the pocket. She’d known by his expression he didn’t care for it. When had he become so difficult to please? Seemed all he liked were personally tailored suits from that Marston’s store in San Diego. How could her sewing hope to compete with that?
It was a relief that he had chosen to spend the evening with his lady friend in the city. After the shirt fiasco, she wouldn’t have known what to do to celebrate his birthday. He had even set aside the cake she’d baked, saying he’d taste it later. And then he’d left for San Diego! A day-old cake was preferable to a few more moments with his sister!
A knock sounded at the doorpost. She should have closed the door after the last customer but the summer day had been so warm that even her thick braid had felt like a heavy blanket lying down her back.
“Miss Morley?”
At the sound of Corporal Barrington’s deep voice, delight had spread through her. This was a surprise! He’d said he had duty. Smiling inwardly, she smoothed the fabric once more and then turned to the door.
“Permission to enter requested, miss.”
He looked gallant standing there in his blue uniform, his yellow bandanna fluttering at his neck from the light evening breeze. The uniform set off the blue in his eyes so perfectly. She remembered wondering if there was a special event at the fort that day. Earlier a few gunshots had gone off, equally spaced such as would happen in a ceremony. She grinned at his use of formal address. “Hello...Corporal. You are quite late. I don’t know if I shall give permission or not. I was just closing up.”
He glanced into the store, ducking his head as he swiped off his blue cap and stepped just inside the entrance. “It’s quiet in here. Where is your brother?”
“He’s celebrating his birthday in the city.”
He raised a brow and said in a conspiring manner, “So you are...a woman...alone?”
She nodded, a giggle bubbling up. “That doesn’t mean you have permission to enter. I don’t allow miscreants in my store.”
“Miscreants?” He teased her with a wounded look and then pointed at her feet where Patches rubbed against her skirt. “You allow that cat in... I’d say I rate better than a cat.”
She picked up Patches. “He’s not just any cat. He’s my expert mouser.” She rubbed her cheek against the smooth orange hair on her pet’s head. “What is your specialty?”
“Why I can shoot a flea off a rabbit at fifty paces.”
She laughed softly. “There is no way you can prove that claim, Corporal.”
He grinned. “No way to disprove it, either.” Then he straightened, all amusement evaporating from his countenance and a tender expression entering his gaze. “I can’t believe how much those brown eyes of yours sparkle when you laugh.”
It was the first time he’d ever said anything so personal...and been serious about it. Although sometimes she’d catch him looking at her and she would wonder if, maybe, he was thinking those kinds of thoughts. But then, they never spoke to each other about it. This was a bit unusual. “What is it, Tom?”
“Something came up today. I want you to celebrate with me. Are you free?”
She lowered Patches to the floor. “Certainly.” Picking up her light pink shawl, something to keep her arms covered properly in public, she slipped it over her shoulders and then stepped through the doorway, pulling the door shut.
He waited on the steps. “I have something special planned. No questions, all right?”
“I thought you were on duty this evening.”
“I got permission to take a few hours off.”
He took her arm and led her to the pier where the water lapped at the pilings and the half-submerged boulders. He was quiet during the short walk.
“What’s going on?”
His blue eyes twinkled in a devilish grin. “No questions. Remember?”
A medium-size rowboat bobbed at the pier. He started down a short ladder, stepped into it and steadied her as she followed in her long skirt. She sat down in the bow, tucking her skirt around her ankles, while he settled on the wide wooden board in the middle of the boat. Behind him, he had stored a large basket that he’d covered with a thick blanket. From it the tantalizing aroma of fried chicken wafted over to her. Beside the basket, an armload of kindling and wood had been piled on the floorboards.
“A picnic?” She was charmed. Then she realized she’d never seen him in a boat. “Do you know how to row this thing?”
“I’ve had a trial voyage. Practiced a good five minutes.”
“And I can trust that we won’t capsize?” she said.
“With my life, miss. I won’t let you go under.”
“Well, that is encouraging, Corporal.” He was a good swimmer. She’d spied him once with a few other soldiers in a race across to North Island.
“No whitecaps. The water is smooth this evening.” He frowned at her then as if remembering himself. “Didn’t I say no questions?”
She smiled, enjoying the teasing. “And I’ll be back at a respectable hour?”
“Absolutely. Your reputation is my main concern.”
“Imagine that.”
She was quiet after that and leaned back against the boat, enjoying the tug and glide of the boat that hinted at Tom’s strong muscles as he pulled on the oars. The evening breeze cooled her skin—now so much cooler than it had been all day. She sighed, contented with how the day was ending after the unpleasant start with her brother and Preston.
“So, we are celebrating something. Hmm. Is it your birthday?”
He shook his head.
“That’s a relief. If it was, that would mean you shared it with my brother.”
“At the sour look on your face, I’m suspecting that that would not be good.”
“Definitely not good.”
“And you are asking questions again.”
“Well, you are always so quiet about yourself. For instance, besides not knowing your birthday, I know nothing about your family. Do you have sisters or brothers? What about your parents?”
He stopped rowing and let the boat glide. “I did. They’re gone now. My father was a sheriff in Tucson. My mother ran the house and painted landscapes, but mostly took care of her two men. No siblings.” He pulled on the oars again. “And that is all you are going to get for now. We have a celebration happening.”
In his short, clipped response she’d noticed his use of past tense. She had the distinct feeling that she would only dampen the mood by pursuing more information about them.
They reached the shore of North Island and Tom jumped out into the shallow wash. He tugged at the boat, scraping it up on the sand until she could alight without getting herself wet. He assisted her first and then grabbed the wood.
They didn’t really need a fire considering the day’s warmth, but it did make the picnic more special. A jackrabbit raised its head and stared at the flames for a second and then hopped away. She spread out the blanket on the beach and sat down. From here she could see a few whitewashed buildings in Old Town and also in La Playa. The strong smell of kelp that had washed up on the sand traveled on the breeze and mixed with the scent of burning wood from their fire.
Tom retrieved the picnic basket from the boat and plopped it onto the blanket. He sat down beside her and a spare grin slanted across his face. The small fire crackled and sparked, warming her face and hands, the light flickering and dancing in his gaze.
Her heart fluttered nervously. This was the most alone she had ever been with him. She felt safe, of course, but she also felt an intimacy unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Before, they’d been surrounded by other soldiers or her friends from church. This was different. His slightest shift of position, his gentle tug on her shawl to pull it back into place on her shoulders, all seemed so much more special alone like this. She placed her hands in her lap and waited.
“I was promoted today,” he finally said. “I am to be Corporal First Class under Lieutenant Cranston. We are going to be honed into a special team.”
A glow of happiness for him filled her. “But this is wonderful! It’s what you’ve always wanted! You’ve been waiting for this to happen.”
He beamed self-consciously. “It was taking them so long to notice that I thought they had passed over me. They said they liked my sharpshooting and the fact I can tell the good guys from the bad guys.” He tilted the basket her way, offering her first pick of the chicken pieces.
“I imagine it is a wonderful opportunity.” She hesitated a moment, thinking about what it might entail. “And perhaps dangerous?”
“Just about any other assignment is dangerous compared to this quiet post.”
“Your father would be proud,” she said tentatively, hoping for a little more insight into who Tom Barrington was.
“I hope so.” He seemed to contemplate her for a moment, then looked back at the fire, concentrating on the glowing flames. “I’m not the lawyer he wanted. Once he was gone, we couldn’t afford school. But I’m doing something that will make a difference. Something that will bring justice.”
When he said the word justice, the look on his face made her pause in taking another bite of food. He looked determined—and in a way almost vengeful. Her eyes burned with the quick welling up of tears. She reached over to squeeze his arm. “He would like that,” she said softly.
A soft orange sunset fanned across the sky and colored his skin with a deep tan. He swallowed hard, staring at her hand. “The minute I heard, all I could think about was telling you. That’s all that mattered. You look... You take my breath away, Elizabeth. Every time I see you...from that first day in the store.”
She blushed, aware of a similar feeling every time she looked at him. Handsome, broad-shouldered and tall—the sight of him did fascinating things to her insides.
“Are you still seeing Preston?”
Dismayed at the change of subject, she let go of Tom’s arm. For some reason, she couldn’t meet his gaze. “He comes by. Lately it seems that Terrance monopolizes his time more than I do. My brother hangs on his every word. I heard them scheming up a new business venture just this morning.”
Tom’s brow furrowed. “Instead of paying attention to you? He’s a fool.”
“No,” she said with a tolerant smile. “He’s a nice man, but sometimes I wonder what drew me to him in the first place.”
“Money. Prestige. Those can be powerful.”
“At times I feel that I am just a proper decoration on his arm,” she blurted out, and then stopped talking. Whatever was going on was between her and Preston? She wasn’t engaged, but she had the feeling he was heading in that direction. It was just his way to be methodical and sure. Unfortunately, that made her feel as if she were one of his business acquisitions.
“But you love him.”
She stopped short, surprised Tom would say such a thing.
At her hesitation, a slow, warm smile broke across his handsome face. He tilted his head slightly to the side, studying her. “Good. I wanted to be clear about that.”
Her heart began to pound. She was unable to look away, captured easily by his gaze. She gripped tight to the ends of her shawl and wrapped them closer. “Wh...why?” She felt as if she were slipping down a deep chasm.
He shifted his hips and moved closer. “Because I don’t like competition.” He splayed his fingers on her upper back, drawing her toward him. Firelight flickered in his eyes and suddenly she was much warmer. He had never kissed her before, although sometimes he had looked at her and she knew he wanted to by the way he studied her mouth. That look made her pulse race, but this...this was so much headier. His lips touched her skin beneath her ear in a soft, warm kiss. Slowly he trailed his lips to her neck under her jaw. He paused for a second—which to her seemed like an eternity—and then with purposeful intent, his gaze still on hers, he pressed his mouth against hers.
The horizon seemed to tilt on its edge and for a moment her breath ceased movement in her lungs. She flushed all over—and then, as she exhaled, a sigh of contentment followed.
“I want to be first in your life, Elizabeth,” he murmured against her lips. “I need to be first.”
“You are,” she breathed, albeit a bit shakily. First kiss, first...
Apparently that was all the encouragement he needed. Tom deepened the kiss. The sparks and crackles from the fire blended into the touch of his mouth as light exploded through her. He teased the seam of her lips with his tongue until she opened her mouth.
