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“Surely they have some savings set aside for—”
“Savings?” Lily Palmer Carrington was burning through his patience like fire through a haystack. “Most of your employees have never stepped foot in a bank because they’ve got nothing to put there. They work to get by, Miss Carrington.”
“I realize—”
“No, you don’t. You’ve got no business being out here. You belong in San Francisco.”
“Do not tell me where I belong! You are the one who belongs … in …”
“Hell?” Juniper supplied. “Right beside your father?”
Her green eyes flared with rage. “How dare you!”
“Enough!” Reginald stepped between them. “Lily, what’s going on?”
Her lower lip slid between white teeth as her gaze moved between Juniper and her cousin.
“What’s the matter, Miss Carrington? Didn’t you fill Reginald in on your plans for revenge?”
“Lily?”
“If I’m cartin’ this poor dead feller back up to camp,” said Chuck, “I need to get goin’. I want to be down this mountain before nightfall.”
Juniper turned to Günter.
His deputy splayed his hands wide in question. “You tell me. What do we do?”
He needed to get away from this woman before he lost his temper or, worse yet, she found another revolver. “See the Carringtons back to camp so they can make arrangements for their man and collect their belongings before being escorted to The Grove. Go straight to the kitchen and have Cook tell you which men didn’t show up for dinner. That could help us narrow this down. Then meet me at Frank’s livery. If I’m not there, he’ll know where to find me.”
Günter gave a firm nod. He turned toward Miss Carrington. “You wish to ride on the wagon?”
She glanced at the horse Mr. Dobbs had been riding, then leveled those shrewd green eyes on Juniper. “Where are you going?”
“To recover the cash box. I think I know what will likely be the first stop of our Good Samaritans.”
“Good Samaritans?”
“In their minds, though I admit they’ve gone about it all wrong.”
“They shot my guard and stole my money!”
“They took what they believed you owed them, Miss Carrington.”
“What we owed an entire camp, not one group of thugs. How can you defend murderers? Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” she added, crossing her arms as she glared up at him.
Juniper glared right back. “Only one man pulled that trigger, and he’ll be found and charged with the crime. I’ll get your money back, Miss Carrington.”
“Not without us, you won’t.” Lily strode toward Dobbs’s black horse, and Juniper had to clench his jaw to keep from swearing.
“Let the man do his job, Lil’,” Reginald said, a blessed voice of reason.
“I plan to make certain he does.” Her tiny form swung into the high saddle in a most unladylike fashion, and with an ease that shocked him. “We can’t move forward until the payroll is recovered and properly distributed.” She tucked the excess folds of her fancy skirt securely beneath her slender white knees, then shifted in the saddle as though reacquainting herself with what had once been familiar.
“Which is why we’re riding along. Reginald.”
Her stiff-backed tone put a pinch in Juniper’s spine. He glanced at poor Reginald. The man’s weary expression threatened to dash the last of his hope. “What are my chances of talking her into staying at the camp?”
Reginald shook his head. “I always knew she’d be the death of me,” he said in a whimper, and started toward his horse. “I just thought it would take a little longer.”
Glancing back at Lily sitting stiffly in the saddle, Juniper knew it wasn’t the dandy’s death she had her heart set on.
It was his.
Chapter Four
Juniper kept Scout at a hard pace. The Grove was close, a small settlement nestled into a lowland mountain valley where squatting oak trees, tall grasses and bursts of wild-flowers replaced the towering pines of the higher elevations. Lily and Reginald rode a few paces behind him, their horses hot and lathered.
Juniper had no intention of hunting down a hostile band of men with these two in tow, certainly not with a gunman on the loose. Lily’s temper wasn’t enough to keep her safe if bullets started flying. Problem was, he had nowhere to stash them. Folks in The Grove weren’t likely to greet the Carringtons with warmth and hospitality. The entire community had suffered from the recent pay hold.
Two parallel rows of rooftops marking the settlement came into view, and Juniper’s mind raced for a solution. He’d met all the residents of this town at one time or another, having served as their local sheriff for nearly two years before he’d moved up to the high Sierra camp. In the past few years he’d spent his days beating the trail up and down this mountain.
Juniper veered off the wide stretch of road. Below, individual rooftops fanned out on either side of the shops on the main strip. Homes spotted the uneven hills tucked into the mountain crevasse. Descending a high stretch of ground, he caught sight of a cluster of residents gathered beneath the narrow awnings of the main strip, spilling out into the street.
Spotting his approach, the dense crowd scattered like a clutch of spooked chickens, rushing off in all directions. Not his usual greeting.
Something’s definitely up.
His gaze swept the deep valley, searching the passes in and out of town. Thick foliage covered the steep ridges spiking up on three sides, offering ample shelter and few outlets. He truly doubted the band of timbermen had stuck around for his arrival, knowing he was in pursuit and that a man lay dead up on the mountain. Then again, if their intentions had been relief for the community rather than greed, he should find them passing out wages at McFarland’s office. Somehow, that didn’t seem likely.
Experience told him that no matter what their initial intentions had been when they’d descended upon that wagon, the moment their hands had been on the money, greed had kicked in. If they’d taken a mind to keep the loot for themselves, the township posed as great a threat as the law. The stolen money was rightfully the townspeople’s. Juniper’s impending approach would be a good excuse for them to keep riding—only if they’d managed to rally support from those they’d come into contact with, convincing them that their sheriff was the greater threat. Not a position any sheriff wanted to be in.
He pulled up on the reins and glanced back at his meager posse. The sight of Lily barreling down on him brought an abrupt shift of focus—and damn near took his breath away. Her hair flowed out behind her like a shimmering mane. Attraction prowled through his body, tensing his muscles as she came up beside him, her squared shoulders and raised chin giving off a flare of confidence.
Even snagged and scuffed, she stood out in these mountains like a swan in a duck pond.
There’s no way to hide her, to make her blend in. Reginald wasn’t much better in his ruffled shirt and brimless black hat. What the hell good was a hat that didn’t even shade your face? Both reined in beside him, exhaustion clear on their faces. He imagined neither were used to spending hours on horseback, much less keeping up the rigorous pace he’d demanded.
“Mr. Barns—”
“Stay beside me,” he said before Lily could get another word out. “I want you both tight on my flank.” He urged Scout on, giving no time for Lily’s rebuttal. They murmured behind him before moving into position, their horses just visible from the corners of his eyes.
In a town usually humming with activity, the streets were nearly deserted. Folks peered out through open doors and shop windows. Only the general-store merchant stood in the entrance to his shop, twisting one upturned end of his fancy mustache.
“Afternoon, Sheriff,” Deke Winton said with a wave.
“Deke.”
Juniper rode on toward the livery, which marked the far end of town. Frank would know who’d been in and out of The Grove. If the men had ridden out, they’d likely taken fresh horses.
On the second block the wide doors to Jonas’s blacksmith shop were shut tight, a sight he’d never seen before in the middle of the afternoon. A nagging chill wormed up his spine. More than likely, Jonas’s last clients had been a band of timbermen needing help with a locked box.
“On my flank,” he repeated, Lily and Reginald falling out of his peripheral vision. Both closed in.
Juniper wasn’t pleased to see the sheriff’s office locked up, shutters drawn. He wondered if his deputy had caught wind of the trouble or was off on other business.
Reaching the center of town, he slowed. He glanced past Lily’s mount and honed his gaze on the small white house located on the edge of town.
“Mr. Barns, would—”
“Pipe down,” he said offhandedly, cutting off Lily’s question as his gaze swept the yard and nearby fields of tall grasses. He didn’t see any sign of visitors outside Widow Donnelly’s home, but that didn’t mean they weren’t lurking about.
He continued toward the livery.
Residents who were usually quick to greet him peered through windows. Those who’d ventured out onto the boardwalks ducked back inside as he approached. He stopped in front of the large stable.
“This is a livery,” Lily said from beside him.
Her pristine pronunciation coupled with the bafflement buried in her crisp tone brought a grin to Juniper’s lips. “Sure is. Our horses are done for today. We’ll need fresh mounts.” He swung out of his saddle and began to quickly remove the pack of leftover supplies from his trip into the high country.
“Should I presume we are about to embark on another of your brilliant schemes?”
A quick side glance at her pursed expression told him to focus on removing his saddle if he wanted to keep a hold on his temper. He usually had the patience of a priest, yet one look at Lily’s cold stare and slender, arching eyebrow snapped at his nerves.
It’s your guilty conscience, he told himself, knowing he’d made a rash mistake sending her down the mountain in the wagon the way he had.
“I would think you’d have apprehended half the town by now, being so quick to use handcuffs and handkerchiefs with me.”
“Give the sheriff a break, Lily,” Reginald said in a dull tone. “He did rescue you.”
Lily dismounted and turned her sour expression toward her cousin, her hands fisted against the alluring curve of her hips. “From the situation he put me in!”
Juniper quickly averted his gaze from her shapely body, telling himself he’d liked her far better while she’d been unconscious.
She needs to get off my mountain.
“An honest mistake by the sound of it,” said Reginald. “Though I can’t imagine how you’d neglect to inform him you own the lumber camp.”
“Hush,” Juniper ordered, glancing around for anyone within earshot as he moved in close between them. “Do you two still not get it?” he asked in a harsh whisper. “The name Carrington has brought these people nothing but further hardship.”
“But I—”
“I know,” he cut in. “You’re here to set things right. Until you do, I suggest you keep your lips pinched tight. Am I under stood?”
Lily drew herself up, making the most of barely five feet—hardly a sign of compliance.
“We are due a briefing, Mr. Barns, as I’ve found your judgment to be severely lacking thus far.”
“Sheriff Barns.” Frank stood at the open end of the barn, his thumbs hooked behind his suspenders.
“Afternoon, Frank,” Juniper said, walking past Lily. “Our horses need a cool down, and I’ll be needing three fresh mounts. Or have you been cleaned out?”
“Figured you’d be coming down the mountain like a flash of lighting,” he said, sounding surprisingly chipper. “I’ve got a few left. Saved the best of my stock for you.”
“I am obliged. They all rode out, then?”
“A dozen mares rode out in two directions nearly twenty minutes ago.”
“Can you name the riders?”
Frank’s gaze skated past them. Juniper glanced over his shoulder and noted the growing number of townsfolk making their way back out onto the boardwalk to have a look at their visitors.
“I’d rather not,” he said.
Juniper gave a nod, figuring he’d bide his time. “Think I’ll stop in and see Emma.”
“That’s a real fine idea,” Frank agreed, telling Juniper that Calvin had indeed gone to see his sister, Widow Donnelly.
“I appreciate your cooperation, Frank.”
Cooperation? Lily gaped up at the supposed sheriff, unable to believe he’d forgo further questioning simply because the man preferred not to answer. Mr. Dobbs had been killed. Juniper should be demanding answers!
“Where’s Deputy Griggs?” he asked.
“He rode out this morning,” said Frank, his gaze moving slowly over Lily. “Said he’d received a wire from a U.S. marshal looking to bring in that highwayman who robbed the stage last month.”
“Let’s hope this marshal can stick around,” said Juniper. “This is Miss Palmer and her cousin Reginald.”
“Good day,” greeted Reginald.
Lily simply stared up at Juniper, his choice of title having caught her off guard. It had been years since anyone had referred to her as Miss Palmer.
“Miss Palmer,” said Frank, “I sure hope they didn’t hurt you none.”
Realizing Frank was staring at her dress, she glanced down and was reminded of her tattered state. “I appreciate your concern.”
Juniper’s long arm curved around her shoulders. “She’s a little the worse for wear, but otherwise fine. We’ll be back shortly for those horses.” He wheeled her around, giving her no choice but to follow his lead or be muscled off the ground.
“I’ll wait here,” Reginald offered, slumping onto a crate outside the wide double doors of the stable. He swabbed a silk handkerchief over his sweaty brow.
Juniper glanced back at Frank and tipped his head toward Reginald, as though silently asking the livery man to keep an eye on him. Frank gave a nod before Juniper started down the street, his hold on her shoulders forcing her to keep up with his long strides.
“Mr. Barns—”
“Sheriff Barns,” he corrected, the irritation in his gaze suggesting he’d noticed her refusal to use the title. As far as she was concerned, he was no longer the sheriff of Pine Ridge.
“I’d like to know how you intend to catch up with those men much less recover my cash box when you allow your questions to go unanswered.”
“All in good time,” he said, an easy grin sliding across his lips.
