9781631054617HeLovesMeCole Read online

  “Yes, may I help you, sir?” she asked in a darling Irish brogue.

  “I’d like to see Willie. It’s an urgent matter,” he added.

  “Do you mean Master William?

  “Yes, miss.” He gave a slight nod, all the while thinking how out of place the formal name sounded. Willie Morse was a brute. He didn’t deserve any respect—in name or otherwise.

  “May I say who it is that’s come calling?”

  “Benjamin Brooks,” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Please tell him it’s important. I wouldn’t have ridden all the way from Sunset if it weren’t.”

  “You’ve come a long way, and sure enough, I understand.” She opened the door, then gestured toward a settee in the graciously-appointed foyer. “Have a seat. I’ll see if he’s available.”

  Grateful to the kind-hearted girl, he took a seat. At least he’d have a moment or two to rest up from his ride before he was tossed back out on his ear. After the incident the previous night, no way would Willie consent to see him. The marble-tiled floor beneath his feet suddenly seemed to shake as heavy footsteps thudded through the house.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Brooks?” Willie demanded as he barreled through the door. He glared at the maid who followed in his wake. “Go now, Bridgit. See that we’re not disturbed.” He brought his hands up, rubbed them together, and glared at his adversary. “Mr. Brooks and I have a little unfinished business to take care of.”

  “Yes, sir.” The maid bobbed a quick curtsy then slipped through the door, leaving the men alone.

  Willie circled around him, eyeing him carefully. Suddenly he whirled and threw a fake punch. When Ben jumped back, the heavyset young man laughed.

  “So what’s this about, Benny? You didn’t get enough of me last night? You want more, do you? Did you come to have a little sparring practice before the big match?”

  Ben shook his head, surprised that Willie even remembered Reverend Gilman’s fight-for-charity scheme.

  “There’s not going to be any match,” he replied. “I plan to stop by the parsonage before I go back to the horse farm. I’m telling Gilman to call it off. I suppose if you want to fight, you can go ahead, but you won’t be fighting against me. He’ll have to find another opponent for you.”

  “Coward.” The word came out of Willie’s twisted mouth like an epithet. “I knew you were afraid of me.”

  “Think whatever you want. I’m not going to argue the point.” He drew in a sharp breath, recalling how he’d also allowed Emily to think whatever she pleased. How misguided she’d been, but in the end, there was no way to control what went on inside anyone else’s head. To try would be pointless. He met Willie’s gaze. “Fighting isn’t the way to resolve problems.”

  Willie remained quiet for a moment. His facial expression changed, becoming more pensive. It struck Ben as almost surreal to realize the other fellow actually had a brain. Even more surreal to imagine him using it.

  “You’re referring to Emily, of course,” he finally said. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened last night. I had too much to drink. I admit it. I was wrong.”

  Now it was Ben’s turn to eye him. “Yeah, you were.”

  “I dispatched a courier earlier. I sent a note of apology to her.”

  “Won’t make any difference. She can’t stand the sight of you. She never has liked you, you know.”

  Willie’s chest puffed out. He stiffened. “I’m sure that what you’d like to think, but if that were true, why was she so insistent that I take her to the dance? She came to me, you know.”

  “So you say.” Ben had his doubts.

  “Well, actually, I asked her first, but she turned me down cold. Then, after the Thanksgiving holidays, she came to see me. She said she’d changed her mind and would like very much to attend the dance with me.” Willie lowered his gaze. “I figured she’d had a spat with you. I thought maybe the two of you had gone your separate ways.”

  So that was it. The thought that Emily had stooped to such depths in order to arouse Ben’s jealousy almost amused him. It would have been humorous indeed if it hadn’t so nearly ended in disaster. Hopefully by now, Emily had learned her lesson. Ben wanted to be sure Willie had learned a few lessons, too. “My relationship with Emily Phillips is none of your concern.”

  “Nor should my relationship with her be any of your concern,” Willie shot back.

  “I’m warning you, Willie. Stay away from Emily.”

  Willie took a menacing step forward. “Hold on there, Brooks. You can’t come into my home and order me around. You can’t tell me who I’m allowed to see, who I’m allowed to court.”

  “You’re right. I can’t do that, but I would be willing to make a deal with you.”

  “A deal?” Willie scoffed. “You’ve got nothing I want. What sort of bargain could we make?”

  “Didn’t your father ever tell you that it’s not a good idea to jump to conclusions? Isn’t a wise man supposed to listen to all the facts before making a decision?”

  “If it’s facts you’re interested in, I’ll give you a few.” Willie stuck his face close to Ben’s. “The fact is, you’re not welcome here, and if you don’t leave now, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing. Another fact you might want to consider is that your old man is only out of prison because my father released him. I’m sure, though, that he could be persuaded to haul his ass right back into jail.”

  “Might be the best thing,” Ben said with an indifferent shrug.

  “You don’t care what happens to your father?”

  “Do you care what happens to yours?”

  Willie’s eyes narrowed. “What’s this all about? You’re not making any sense.”

  “If you’ll shut up long enough to listen, I’ll spell things out for you.”

  Morse started to open his mouth again, then clamped it shut.

  Ben nodded. “Good. First, let’s put last night behind us. You had too much to drink, you got carried away, and thank the Lord, no harm came to Emily.”

  “Get to the point, will you?”

  “Like I said before, you need to stay away from her.”

  “What if I don’t?”

  “If you don’t, then I’m going to ruin your father’s reputation. And don’t think I can’t do it, Willie, because I can. A few words from me to the right people, and your father would be in serious legal trouble.”

  “Bullshit.” Willie shook his head. “You’ve got nothing on my father. Nothing you say can hurt him.”

  “He’s not the wise, esteemed man he purports to be, and maybe you know that, or maybe you’re ignorant enough to believe he’s honest and law-abiding and all the rest of that spiel he puts out.”

  “Go on.” Willie edged closer. “Say what’s on your mind.”

  “Your father isn’t above cutting deals when he thinks he might profit by doing so. He didn’t release my father out of any motives of kindness or because he felt my father had been unfairly convicted. That’s the bullshit, Willie. My father killed a man in cold blood. He deserves to be behind bars.”

  “Why did my father release him?”

  “They struck a bargain between them.” Ben choked back emotion. When he’d returned to the horse farm the night before, he’d stayed awake long into the night. Bit by bit, he’d pieced together the facts. “My Pa had some information he thought your father might be interested in hearing.”

  “About what?”

  “Money, what else? Greed rules the world, I’ve learned.”

  “How much money are you talking about?”

  Ben cocked his head. “I’m not sure. A chest of stolen money from a Wells Fargo payroll coach.”

  “Wait a minute.” Willie frowned. The process of thought seemed to require tremendous effort. “Joe Love’s stolen loot?”

  Ben nodded. “From what I understand, my Pa got a lead on where it’s buried.”

  “For real?”

  “I wouldn’t joke about this, and I sure
as hell wouldn’t be standing here in your parlor if I were lying. Your father let my Pa go free so that he could lay hands on that money. The two of them plan to find it, then split it between them.”

  “That payroll chest was about seventy-five hundred dollars, maybe as much as eight thousand.”

  “Four thousand each, give or take.” Ben nodded. “A nice little profit, don’t you think?”

  “Who knows about this?”

  “Nobody but us.”

  “And you’ll keep quiet as long as I stay away from Emily.” Willie leaned close, then threw back his head and let go a loud laugh. He slapped Ben hard on the back. “Damn, that’s a good story, Brooks. For a moment, you almost had me believing it. I’ll hand it to you, you know how to come up with good ones.”

  “I’m telling you the truth.”

  The fat fellow wiped at his eyes. “You’ve made my day, all right. It’s been a while since I’ve heard anything so entertaining. I’d bet my father will get a good laugh out of it too when I tell him.”

  “Willie, no. You don’t want to do that.”

  “Why the hell not? He might appreciate knowing that some good-for-nothing cowpoke is spreading rumors about him. I’d say you’ll be spending a bit of time in the hoosegow yourself, Benny. I doubt that my father will think too kindly of what you’ve done.”

  “Damn it! Why won’t you listen? Why won’t you believe me?”

  “Because I know my father. He’d never allow anyone to compromise him.” He swung an arm over Ben’s shoulders. “But, hey, I’d hate to see you behind bars for the rest of your life. After all, you’d have a hard time winning Emily Sue’s heart if that were the case.”

  Ben swallowed back his dread. “Even if I were sent away to prison, Emily wouldn’t want you. She only used you, Willie, but you’re not smart enough to see that. She asked you to take her to that dance so that she could make me jealous.”

  “That’s a lie.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s the truth, plain as the nose on your ugly face.”

  “It’s still crooked, you know. Thanks to you.”

  “Maybe I ought to punch you again. Maybe we could even it up.” Ben raised his fists.

  A swish of skirts caught his attention. He turned to see an older woman standing in the doorway. Although she wasn’t what might be termed a classic beauty, she had a pleasant face. Tall and big-boned, she looked like a feminine version of her son. He immediately guessed the woman’s identity.

  “William, I heard voices. Loud voices,” she pointed out. “Is something amiss?” She stepped forward, her dark blue eyes sweeping over their guest. “Bridgit told me you had a caller.” She turned her attention toward Ben. “Is there a problem?”

  “No, ma’am,” he answered before Willie could get out a word. “I had a message to deliver, that’s all.” He plopped his hat on his head and nodded. “Good day, Willie. And good day to you, Mrs. Morse.”

  Ben stood outside for a short time. Would Willie be stupid enough to go to his father and repeat what he’d been told? Not that it mattered, really. Judge Morse would come up with some logical-sounding way to get around the truth. His foolhardy son would be dumb enough to buy it.

  Like father, like son.

  Ben hated that thought, but in this case, it definitely applied.

  On his return home, he rode through Sunset, as always, keeping his eyes and ears open. Only this time, he wasn’t watching for any mysterious stalker or unseen threat to himself or to the Henderson family. Ben had long since concluded that the uneasy feelings he’d experienced had come about because of his father. The old man had been watching him, probably getting the lay of the land, and waiting for what he felt was the opportune moment to show up at the horse farm.

  As for the rest of the troubles, maybe that, too, was a thing of the past. There had been no further problems since his father had left. All appeared quiet.

  As rode along Main Street, Ben listened for a different sort of trouble. Rumors. Gossip. Talk about the incident at the social hall. He heard nothing and breathed a sigh of relief. Protecting Emily—and her reputation—was proving far more challenging than he’d expected.

  When he drew close to the sheriff’s office, he waved as Caleb Bryant came through the door. Always good to maintain friendly relations with the law. He pulled up and tipped his hat.

  “Good afternoon to you, Sheriff.”

  “Same to you.”

  “I don’t suppose you’ve seen my old man around, have you? Has he caused any trouble that you know of?”

  Bryant shook his head. “Haven’t seen much of him. Far as I know, he’s keeping his nose clean.”

  “Is he working?”

  “Doing an odd job here and there.”

  “No complaints from anybody?”

  “Not a one.” Bryant shrugged. “People do change, Ben.”

  “Some people, yes. Not my father.” He tipped his cap again and pressed his knees to his horse’s flanks. “I’ll be sure to give your regards to Tom and Lucille.”

  Ben rode on through town. Like the skies above him, his mood was brighter now than it had been for days. Winter in Colorado rarely meant fair weather. The pleasant afternoon was a rarity, indeed.

  When he reached the mercantile, he hurried inside. With Christmas drawing nigh, and no further commotion at the horse farm, he hoped to put aside all his worries and enjoy the holiday. Even though things were still touch-and-go with Emily, he hoped soon he’d be able to speak more openly with her and prove that he had no interest whatsoever in Miss Della White.

  For weeks, he’d been saving as much as he could from his pay, and he’d had his eye on the perfect gift for Emily. Perhaps once she received it, she would feel more certain of his love. Maybe she would begin to fully trust him again.

  He looked through the shelves, frantic to find the chocolate sampler. “What happened to that candy you had here last week?” he inquired of Asa Taylor.

  “Sold out. Christmas, you know.”

  “Yeah, I wanted to buy a box for my sweetheart.”

  “Sorry, you should have let me know sooner. You could have paid a deposit and reserved a box.”

  “You don’t have any more chocolates?”

  “Not a one.”

  “Damn.” Ben looked down at his boots. The money in his pocket was burning a hole. “Well,” he said, looking up again, “you must have something a fellow could buy for his best girl.”

  “Is she the educated sort? Or the pretty sort? The fun-loving sort?”

  “Cut it out, Asa. You know good and well what sort she is.”

  “We’re talking about Emily Phillips, right?”

  “Of course. What would you suggest?”

  “She’s definitely the educated sort. Going to school in Denver now, I hear.”

  Ben beamed with pride. “Yes, she’s going to get her teaching certificate. She’s studying at a female academy.” He spoke the words in a reverent whisper as though they held some mystic power.

  “Then I’d say this is just what she’d like.” The bony, bald-pated owner turned around, searched through a shelf behind him, and then pulled a leather-covered volume from a rack of used books. “Poetry.” He held the slender volume out to Ben.

  “Poetry?” Ben picked up the book, glanced through it, and frowned. “I don’t really understand much of this. Listen. ‘Look in the glass and tell the face thou viewest…’” He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Mr. Taylor shrugged. “Damned if I know, but I think that’s the sort of thing they teach at those female academies. I’d be willing to lay odds that your girl would appreciate this. Probably a lot more than a few candies.” He grinned. “I mean, look at it from a logical point of view. You give a girl candies, she eats them up, and what happens?”

  “I don’t know.” Ben scratched his jaw.

  “Well, first off, she probably gets a stomach ache from ingesting too many sweets. Chocolate can do that, you know.”

  “No,
I didn’t know.”

  “Sure enough. Too many sweets can cause serious upset, so she’d probably be feeling right poorly by the end of the night.”

  “I wouldn’t want that.”

  “No, not at all. And then, to make matters worse, what’s she got left? Nothing but an empty box. Now, is that what you want her to see when she thinks of you? Hell, she’ll end up throwing it on the trash heap, sure as the day is long, and she’d be right apt to consign you to the trash heap too for giving a gift like that.”

  “Isn’t it the thought that counts?”

  “Exactly!” The man picked up the poetry book and hefted it again. “And this book is filled with poetic thoughts. Girls like that sort of thing. And unlike a box of chocolates, poetry causes no health problems. And this book will be sitting there on her bed table for a long time to come. Every time she sees it, she’ll think of you. Isn’t that what you really want?”

  “Now that you put it like that...”

  Ben called next at the parsonage and finally persuaded Gilman to give up his idea for the fight. After settling that matter, he chatted with both Reverend and Betty Gilman, listening carefully for any hint of scandal or chin-wagging. If rumors were going around about Emily, Mrs. Gilman would surely mention it. In fact, she’d most likely be leading the pack of rumormongers, and she’d make certain Ben knew of her disapproval.

  Thankfully, nothing was mentioned. The incident, awful as it seemed at the time, had already faded and died. Ben left the parsonage a short time later, his spirit lightened by the events of the day.

  Darkness had nearly fallen by the time Ben reached the horse farm. As he rode into the yard, he noticed a strange glow coming from inside the spring house. Or maybe it was nothing more than the reflection of the setting sun.

  No. The sun was too far gone, too low on the horizon.

  As he tended to his horse then led the Appaloosa into the barn, he kept a watchful eye on the spring house door. The light now burned brighter. Someone was inside.

  Chapter Eight