Читать книгу Gabriel's Heart - Madeline George - Страница 9

October 1882

“Geoffrey, I have to get to the depot. The train won’t wait for us if we’re late.”

“But, Katrina, I have something really important to tell you. To give you, actually.”

Trina McCabe thrust one of her brown leather traveling bags at Geoffrey Monroe in an attempt to budge him from the spot in the hall outside her bedroom door. He’d arrived at the ranch half an hour ago, but she hadn’t spoken to him until just now. She wasn’t ready to talk to Geoffrey yet. She knew the thing he had to show her was an engagement ring, but she wasn’t ready to address that subject To be truthful, she didn’t know if she’d ever be ready to discuss it. So she’d made him wait, hoping he’d get the idea she was too busy to talk today. But it hadn’t worked. Couldn’t he take a hint just once?

In the looking glass above her chiffonier, her cheeks seemed a trifle pale. She touched the tips of two fingers to her tongue, then scrubbed at one of the pink roses on the wallpaper. With a few practiced strokes she transferred the pink dye to her cheeks. Satisfied, she straightened her blue feathered hat.

“Please listen, Katrina. Aren’t you curious to see what I brought you?” Geoffrey shined the toe of one boot on the back of his freshly pressed nankeen trousers, then straightened his vest nervously. “Can’t you stand still?”

“No, I can’t. Papa will be calling any minute now that it’s time to—”

Amos McCabe bellowed from downstairs. “Trina! We’re leaving right now. Are you coming or not?”

“I’m coming, Papa!” Trina called back. “Now, Geoffrey, there’ll be worlds of time to talk once I’m back from Silver Falls. Come for supper then. I promise I’ll listen to every word you say.” Every dull and tedious word, she wanted to add, but Geoffrey was, after all, her beau. Wasn’t he?

Geoffrey grabbed her bag and reached for the valise, but Trina beat him to it. For some reason, demonstrating her independence seemed terribly important Geoffrey clutched the bag as though it contained silver or gold.

“You shouldn’t be carrying heavy things, Katrina.” Geoffrey grabbed the valise from her hand. “I’ll carry this, too. Maybe I ought to go with you to Silver Falls.”

“Nonsense!” She said it too emphatically and knew it She gave him her sweetest smile as placation to turn his protests into thin air, as always, and scanned the room to see if she’d left anything essential. The valise had been heavier than she’d thought, so she decided not to argue with Geoffrey and let him carry it, too. Traveling without a trunk was terribly inconvenient She usually packed three trunks for a trip this long. But there would be no one she knew in Silver Falls. Praise the Lord for that.

Her father’s voice boomed again from downstairs.

“Trina! We’re going without you if you aren’t down here by the time I count to five!”

“Papa’s going to have apoplexy. Come on!” Trina hurried down the stairs with Geoffrey close behind, lugging the baggage. She needed a couple of days to herself, without Geoffrey six inches away, panting around her like a lonesome puppy.

And she had to look after her father. Something wasn’t right about this business trip. He’d protested her coming in such a way she’d been genuinely alarmed at the idea of him going to Silver Falls at all, much less alone. Then there were those dreadful men who’d come to the house last week. Well, there was simply no way she’d allow him to go without her.

Geoffrey practically stepped on her skirts all the way down the stairs, and even bumped her behind with the baggage a couple of times. If Trina didn’t get away soon, she’d pitch the biggest fit any of them had ever seen!

Outside, Amos McCabe waited in the carriage, along with Trina’s oldest brother, Tom, who was going to drive them to the depot in Denver. The icy air hinted at snow, while the wind felt like icicles against her bare skin.

“There you are at last Geoffrey, we’ll see you when we get back. I’ll wire Tom from Silver Falls when my business is complete. He’ll let you know when to expect us in Denver.” He took a look at Trina. “What kind of a dress is that to be wearing on a train? Shouldn’t you be wearing wool in the winter—and a dark color? Bright blue in the wintertime—”

“But this is wool, Papa. It’s a new kind of wool, as warm as the heavy kind. It came in last week. I ordered it last spring, don’t you remember?” Of course he didn’t remember. If she reminded him of the cost, he would no doubt remember that “I couldn’t wait another minute to wear it.”

“It’ll be covered in soot and cinders five minutes after we get to town. And that ridiculous hat, with feathers and flowers. It looks like you’re wearing a flowerpot”

“That’s exactly what it’s called, Papa. A flowerpot hat.”

Amos snorted his opinion. “There’s no time for you to change. I hope you brought something sensible to wear once we get to Silver Falls.”

“Yes, Papa, I did. Don’t worry.”

Tom shook his head at her, then cast a look of disgust at Geoffrey. “I’ll send word. Let’s go.” Tom helped Trina into the seat, handed her a lap blanket, then climbed in after her. Before Geoffrey could add anything, Tom slapped the horse’s rump with the reins and the carriage lurched forward with a squeal.

“I’ll see you when you get back, Katrina!” Geoffrey ran along beside the carriage for a dozen yards or so, puffing great billows of steamy breath, before stopping to wave.

Trina waved halfheartedly. For a month of Sundays Geoffrey had been talking about buying her an engagement ring, begging her to say she’d accept one. When she’d put him off the fourth time, he’d gone ahead and picked it out. Red and green stones set in gold filigree.

Mr. Filby at the general store had told everyone in town about it, figuring their engagement was a sure thing. Only two hours after the stage had come through and left the box at Mr. Filby’s store, Trina had heard from Alissa who had heard from Fanny who had heard from Sarah that the ring had arrived. Practically everyone in town had seen the ring since then. Except Trina. She sighed. A ring was exactly what she’d been wanting him to give her, wasn’t it? An expensive, gaudy ring that would catch everyone’s eye? Once she’d accepted it, they’d be officially engaged and a date could be set for the wedding.

Weddings were so much fun. There would be parties given in her honor and so many gifts they wouldn’t have room for them all. And all three of her brothers would have to be fitted for new suits and she’d get to see them all dressed fit to kill at the same time. So why had she stubbornly refused to give poor, pitiful Geoffrey an answer?

Trina stuck out her lower lip and pulled the blanket tighter around her neck. She knew now that a ring wasn’t what she wanted at all. The problem was, she didn’t know what she wanted instead. Geoffrey was nice enough, and his father did own a prosperous haberdashery in Denver. If she and Geoffrey were married, she’d have all the beautiful clothes she could wear. But clothes weren’t everything. Just what was everything, she couldn’t say. She just knew Geoffrey wasn’t it She’d never intended to lead Geoffrey on or give him false hopes about their being married someday. How on earth had it come this far?

Amos nudged his daughter’s elbow. “Trina?”

“Yes, Papa?”

“What was Geoffrey all riled up about?”

“He wants to give me an engagement ring.”

Amos hesitated. “Are you going to accept it?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps I’ll know when we get back home.” He had enough on his mind. She could tell him after they got back that she’d thought about it and decided marrying Geoffrey simply would not make her happy.

Amos patted her arm. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” She smiled and squeezed his hand. “Let’s forget all about Geoffrey and the ranch while we’re on this trip, all right? I think we both need a diversion.”

“Agreed. I only hope you won’t be bored.”

“Why, Papa, of course I won’t be bored. After all, I’m with my favorite fellow, aren’t I?”

It was the truth. Trina suspected it would continue to be the truth, whoever she married. She sighed and stared at a piñon pine up ahead. If only the prospect of marriage could be more exciting. It seemed to be the only thing she knew of that could leave her completely bored. She gathered the blanket closer around her chin. The wind was absolutely wicked.

Amos dug in his pocket, then handed a derringer to Trina.

“Put this in your pocket. You never know who you might meet on the train or in Silver Falls.”

“But Papa, I’ve never fired a gun in my life.”

“It isn’t that hard. You probably won’t need it, but it can’t hurt to have it, just in case.”

“In case—”

“Just take it without a big argument, for once in your life.”

Stung by the reproach, she stared at the derringer for a moment, then pushed it deep into her pocket. A worrisome little thought skittered through her mind. She recalled the day those dirty men had come to the house. They’d left angry. Just afterward, her father had announced the trip to the mining town.

“Papa, are you sure we ought to go to Silver Falls? Maybe we should—”

“What? But you said—”

“I know. I’m not talking about that.”

“Then what? I don’t—”

“I’m thinking about those men who came to the house last week. They sounded angry. It worries me.”

“It’s nothing for you to be concerned about.”

“But what if they—”

“Enough! This is business and doesn’t concern you. Settle down and enjoy the trip.”

“But Papa—”

“Katrina…hush!”

She hushed. But she didn’t like it one bit.

Gabriel heard the train whistle when it rounded the last bend, just west of the Denver depot, where he’d been waiting for the past hour.

Through a flurry of feathery snowflakes mixed with cinders, and soot belching from the smokestack, the locomotive chuffed its way into the depot like an iron monster, creaking slowly to a stop. People waiting to board the train stepped back to avoid the expulsion of steam from the engine, then inched forward while arriving passengers poured from the cars.

Gabriel got up from the hard wooden bench and stretched his back muscles, then rubbed at a spot on his rib cage. Better than fourteen months since he’d been shot and it still ached. He knew it wouldn’t stop completely until he killed Otis Blackburn.

Passengers gathered their baggage. A line formed, heading out the door. Just ahead, a woman wearing a silly-looking hat with blue feathers and flowers turned her head to allow a young man to kiss her cheek. Gabriel inched past. “Excuse me, ma’am.”

She nodded and stepped back an inch or two to let him pass. He went outside to the platform.

Trina watched him go, leaning over a bit to get a better look.

Tom narrowed his eyes. “Remember Geoffrey?”

Trina smiled sweetly. “How could I ever forget Geoffrey? Goodbye, Tom. I wish you’d change your mind and come with us.” The last thing she wanted on this trip was a fussy older brother hanging around, but she had to be polite.

“Can’t. Too much to do at home. I’ll see you when you get back.”

She leaned toward the door to see if she could spot that man again, but he was already out of sight. So handsome. Could he possibly be going to Silver Falls? On the same train? For a moment Geoffrey’s face flashed through her mind and she felt a twinge of guilt for admiring another man. But she’d decided their engagement wasn’t going to happen. That meant she was single and unattached—and free to admire handsome men when they happened along. She smiled, pleased with her decision.

She saw her father’s puzzled look but ignored it, as usual. He shook his head, then went out to the platform, leaving her to catch up on her own. She took her time, trying to think of some reason to speak to the handsome stranger. She could pretend to recognize him from a social function in Denver. That usually worked quite well. He would tell her his name and perhaps even be interested in a conversation sometime during their journey.

“Trina! Are you coming?”

“Yes, Papa, I’m coming.” Mercy. It was so bothersome to rush.

Outside, the conductor came to the railing of the first car, squinted when the wind stung his eyes, then cupped one hand around his mouth and shouted, “Silver Falls! Board! All aboard!”

Gabriel paused to allow several ladies and a couple of children, flushed with the cold and chattering like a flock of magpies, to enter in front of him. He dug into his pockets for his gloves and pulled them on. Their rabbit-fur lining eased the sting of the wind. His fingers tingled with warmth. The handrail, colder than the air and rough with rust and flaking paint, wasn’t touchable in winter. Likely as not, a bare hand on that rail would leave skin behind.

The acrid stench of coal smoke and fumes stung his nostrils and left a bad taste in his mouth. After one last look around, he went inside the car, surveying the group of milling, babbling passengers. Pushing his way past a gentleman with a bristly mustache and a rotund belly, he slid into the third seat on the right, all the way over next to the window. To kill time, he stared out into the rail yard.

Cattle milled about in a nearby pen, awaiting transfer to the slaughterhouses in Chicago. The stink of them invaded everything, but Gabriel hardly noticed. There’d been a time when that herd might have been his, but those days were long gone. Only one animal occupied Gabriel’s mind now—a two-legged, one-eyed animal he aimed to slaughter personally.

The grimy window glass barely allowed him to see outside the train. Soot coated everything. The sun, had it been able to burn through the cloud cover, could not have penetrated to the gloomy interior of the passenger car. But that hadn’t dimmed the enthusiasm of the ladies and children finally getting settled in their seats.

Gabriel had waited a long time to board this train. He’d ground his teeth in expectation of catching the man who’d laughed when he slaughtered Hannah. Blackburn wouldn’t laugh when Gabriel caught up to him in Silver Falls. No, that would be the last thing he’d do.

“Ticket, mister?”

The conductor bumped his shoulder, then held out his hand.

Gabriel handed over the ticket, waited for the pale writing to be scrutinized, then took it back and stowed it in his inside coat pocket. The conductor moved on down the car, asking to see tickets as he went. Gabriel watched him for a moment, then stared out the window again, impatient to leave the station. Silver Falls was just about a day from Denver. Now that the winter snows had started collecting in the passes, keeping the tracks cleared had become a constant battle and made train schedules a joke. They’d be there when they got there, snow and slides permitting.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Gabriel heard the woman’s voice, but didn’t think she was talking to him. She tapped his arm.

“Sir?”

He stared at her for a minute before answering. The lady with blue feathers. Dressed in such finery, she had to be rich. Blue dress to match the feathers. Fancy toilet water. And, he’d guess, miles of that thick, red hair cascading down her back from under that boxy hat. The young man who’d kissed her cheek didn’t seem to be with her.

“Ma’am? How may I be of assistance?”

Old habits died slowly. Service had been his job—his life—for too many years. Years after ranching. Years after facing every upstart in the state of Texas eager to try his luck at beating the fastest gun in the territory. Or so they’d thought.

“I know we’ve met before. Aren’t you—”

“No, ma’am. We haven’t. And I’m not.”

“I see. Well. I must be mistaken.”

“Trina! Over here!” The man with the brushy mustache motioned for her to join him, then held up his hand in greeting. “Sheriff Hart? Good to see you again.”

Gabriel nodded.

Trina smiled. Sheriff Hart. Her mind whirled with the possibilities of this revelation. She went to the seat where her father had already made himself comfortable, pulled a hankie from her sleeve and dusted the seat before perching on the edge.

“Let’s go back to the Pullman, Papa.”

“Not yet, Trina. I have some business to tend to.”

Well, that was that. She’d have to wait to question her father about the handsome Sheriff Hart.

Gabriel recognized Senator Amos McCabe after a bit of thought. The redhead must be his daughter. And the young man in the depot…His son-in-law?

Gabriel’s brow wrinkled. He’d never met her before today. He would have remembered. He settled into the seat, squirmed until he’d attained the best possible position for dozing, and pulled his hat down to his eyebrows to catch a snooze. It was a long way to Silver Falls. He intended to be fresh when they arrived tomorrow afternoon. Later, he’d go on back to the Pullman. Now, though, he had to be alert and observant, in case one of Blackburn’s men was on board, heading for a rendezvous with his miserable boss. A pain in his back prompted another adjustment in his position. He’d pretend to take a nap and study each man in the car. Memorizing a face now could mean the difference between being dead and alive in Silver Falls.

Trina was also squirming. There wasn’t a way to get comfortable in these hard contraptions they called seats. She glanced around to see if everyone else was having the same trouble. Of course, she wasn’t actually interested in everyone. Just a certain man her father called Sheriff Hart.

Trina couldn’t decide how to continue her conversation with this sheriff. She listened surreptitiously to her father’s conversation. Boring. Glancing back at the sheriff, she fanned her face with one hand, warding off some of the cinders floating around, feeling warmer just from thinking about speaking to him again. She’d have to come up with an excuse, though.

The train pulled out of the station, throwing her off balance. She struggled against the jerking motions of the lumbering locomotive, watching Sheriff Hart shifting position in the rigid seat, trying to get more comfortable. Didn’t he know it would be impossible to sleep in all this confusion? He’d likely choke to death and never wake up again if the air didn’t clear up soon.

She pulled the lace-edged hankie from her sleeve again and covered her mouth and nose with the side she hadn’t used to dust the seat, filtering some of the smoke and cinders clogging the air, but it was no use. By the time they reached Silver Falls, she’d have succumbed to asphyxiation, too.

If the atmosphere didn’t improve soon, she’d have to retreat to her quarters in the Pullman car, with or without her father. He was still talking to someone about that business matter he’d mentioned. Her first thought had been to suggest he invite the man to their quarters, but, after taking a good look at the man—dirty face, dirty clothes, bad teeth, something in one of his eyes making him blink constantly—she thought perhaps her father was right to speak with him here. Whew! The stench of cattle penned up too long permeated the air. She fanned her face and let her eyes wander across the car.

Sheriff Hart’s eyelashes had to be as long as hers. His beard, dark brown, had been neatly trimmed, probably with sharp scissors. And his mustache didn’t curve over his top lip into his mouth, like some she’d seen. His neatly trimmed beard and mustache said something about the man. And his hair didn’t seem to be matted and dirty, the way some men seemed content to tolerate theirs. His thick hair had a bit of curl to it and lay nicely on his collar, just the right length in back. She wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers through it, slowly and carefully, massaging his scalp as she went…

Her father coughed and nudged her with his elbow. “Trina, hand me that bag.”

She fetched the heavy leather case for her father and noted again how he wheezed when he talked. He was too heavy, that’s all there was to it She’d been trying to get him to cut down on fat meats and gravy for the longest time, but he stubbornly refused. The bigger he’d gotten, the more trouble he’d had breathing. This thin mountain air didn’t help one bit. When they got to Silver Falls, where it was much higher still, what would he do then? She didn’t want to think about it, but she had to. If something happened, she would be the one responsible for finding help. Tom should have come with them, but he’d stubbornly refused. Her father wouldn’t hear of it, anyway. Too much work to be done at the ranch—as always. Never a slack minute.

Trina coughed. Her nose stung and her eyes watered fiercely. Something had to be done about the air or they’d all perish.

“Conductor! Conductor!” She fanned her face with her hankie until he got there. “We simply must open some windows. The air—”

“Winders! Are you out of your mind?”

“I most certainly am not. I’m deeply concerned—”

“But, ma’am, it’s cold outside. If we open them winders, you’re likely to freeze solid before we reach the first pass.” His wrinkled face twisted into an expression of sheer disgust.

“It’s stuffy and smoky in here. I can hardly breathe.”

“Well, then, I ‘spect you’d better stick your nose outside that door and cool off a mite. I ain’t openin’ them winders. Not for you or anybody on this train.”

“Well, I never…!”

The conductor stuck his nose in the air and stalked off down the car.

Gabriel grinned at the exchange. The wind and a swirl of snow from the door when the conductor left sent a shiver through him. It was just like a woman to want to open a window in winter on a train going thirty miles an hour. Gabriel studied the feisty Miss McCabe for a moment. And feisty she was. Now she was railing at “Papa” to do something about the stuffiness. Spoiled. Pampered. Nothing but a beautiful child.

The senator finally interrupted her tirade. “Go stand on the landing, Trina, if you’re that all-fired hot. I have business to tend to before we get to Silver Falls. I can’t get it done with you caterwauling about how thick the air is.”

Gabriel almost laughed out loud when Trina’s bottom lip stuck out. Pouting. Poor little rich girl. She spied him watching her. He should have looked away, but didn’t.

Trina squared her shoulders, tucked in her bottom lip and glared at him. Then she stood, whirled around and headed for the far end of the car. She pulled the heavy door open, then held it there, standing behind it out of the wind, until everyone in the car hooted and hollered and the car filled with snow and cinders. Then she slammed the door, went back to her seat and perched there, stiff as a tree trunk.

Gabriel kept right on grinning. Her cheeks flamed with anger and she deliberately looked away. Gabriel knew how mad she was, but couldn’t help being amused by it all. He’d enjoyed her little display, even though it had chilled him to the bone. She had spunk, a man had to give her that. In fact, there were a lot of things a man would like to give her.

The thought disturbed him. During the fourteen months he’d spent healing and getting his strength back, he’d never even looked at a woman. The pain from losing Hannah to that scum had blacked out any thought other than stringing the son of a bitch up by his tenderest parts, and torturing him until he screamed in agony, the way Hannah had screamed. The memory made him shiver, but not from cold.

Now here he was, swapping howdies across the room with a spoiled senator’s daughter. Gabriel decided a walk might not be a bad idea. He knew every face now. Sitting in this contraption they called a seat had made him stiff, even though he shouldn’t be having such pains. He wasn’t that old. Twenty-nine. Or was it thirty? He’d missed one birthday, delirious with fever and pain, thanks to that sorry bastard Blackburn.

She was still glaring at him from time to time. Well, he’d just have to apologize. But not too much. Gabriel smiled and tipped his hat at the poker-faced lady when he strode past, then stepped out on the platform between the passenger and Pullman cars, careful to close the door securely behind him. That ought to get her fired up, for sure.

He shuddered in the frigid wind, then took a deep draft of mountain air. Damn, but it smelled good. Nothing like it in all the world. The fragrances of ponderosa and limber pines, aspens, maples and spruce mingled with the frosty aroma of fresh snow. How snow could have a smell, Gabriel didn’t know, but it did. A clean smell. New. Unblemished. It covered the ugliness with unmatched beauty. Only when people walked through it and muddied it up did it lose its virgin whiteness and turn to slush and slop in the roadways. Signs of progress.

Cities had come to smell like pigsties, with all the newfangled machinery and trains belching smoke all over the place. He preferred clean mountain air anytime. And snow without boot prints.

Gabriel took a long, slow breath and drank in the spectacle around him. Mountains held their heads up fourteen thousand feet overlooking valleys, broad and fertile, and lofty bluffs exposing layers of sandstone in a dozen colors. Magnificent Gabriel had come to love this country during his search for justice and revenge, yet he still longed for Texas—and home. Someday, after Blackburn was dead and left to rot, Gabriel would go home.

The door bumped open behind him. Gabriel knew without looking who it would be. Only, she didn’t seem to be riled.

“Mr. Hart, I believe? My father told me about you. I am Katrina McCabe.”

So, she wasn’t married after all. Gabriel amended his previous assumption. Future son-in-law, perhaps?

“What can I do for you, Miss McCabe?”

Gabriel looked sideways at her. She’d already begun to shiver hard. He wondered how long she’d last before having to run back inside the car, stuffy or otherwise. The cape she wore would be fine if she weren’t out in the wind. Out here, she needed a heavy coat.

He supposed he should get her out of the cold, but somehow he also figured she wouldn’t want to talk in the same car with her father. This lady had something stuck in her craw, but he didn’t really want to know what it was. He had enough to think about for one train ride. Her cheeks flushed red with the cold, matching the color of her pouty lips.

“I’m c-con-concerned about something. I h-hoped you might be able to h-help.” Trina clutched the cape tighter around her but it did nothing to stop the bite of the wind. She might turn to a pillar of ice right where she stood.

Gabriel wanted to curse out loud. His only concern was his own business. Damn, but this woman was getting to be a bother, in less time than it took to take a decent nap.

“I was about to inspect my quarters in the Pullman, Miss McCabe. You might want to check on yours, also.”

“A splen-splendid idea, Mr. Hart.”

Gabriel helped her across the walkway and onto the next platform, then held the heavy door open against the wind while she hurried into the Pullman car opposite. He stepped inside after her and pulled the door closed behind him with a loud clang.

Their breaths puffed steamy in the cold air of the Pullman. Baseboard heaters, warming the compartments with heat from the locomotive’s furnace, didn’t warm the corridors very much. It took her a while to stop shivering.

Gabriel thought about offering her his fleece-lined coat, then changed his mind. No use being cold just because some flighty female decided to take a walk. She’d warm up if she stayed inside.

“Feelin’ better, ma’am?”

Trina patted her cheeks, swept the snow and cinders from her skirt, straightened her pleats and tried to assume a dignified air before answering his question. “Somewhat better, Mr. Hart. Thank you kindly.”

“You wanted to talk to me about something?” He hoped it was worth hearing. He could see that her mind was conjuring up something. In spite of it all, he was curious to see what she wanted.

“I’m concerned about my father’s welfare on this journey. I…uh…I think he may be in some danger.”

“I see. What makes you think so?” Best let her talk until she ran down. That is, if it didn’t take too long.

The outside door, caught by the wind, slammed open, and two men came into the Pullman. They managed to push the door closed, then “beg-pardoned” their way between Gabriel and Trina. They departed the car at the far end.

Trina watched every step they took, then looked up and down the corridor before she spoke, in whispers this time. The delay had given her time to concoct her story. “Have you noticed the men on this train?” Her eyes widened.

Gabriel swallowed hard. Brown. Her eyes were brown. Just like Hannah’s. The knot in his gut tightened. “Which ones, ma’am?”

“Those men in the front car. Sitting just behind my father. The men who just came through here. I think—” she checked the corridor again “—I think they want to harm him.”

Gabriel burst out laughing. Just like a stupid little kid, playing cowpokes and Indians. Worse than that, he was standing here listening to this nonsense.

“Mr. Hart! I assure you—”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I guess you caught me off guard, that’s all.” He sobered his face. “Why do you think they want to hurt your father?”

She whispered again. Gabriel had to lean forward, just inches from her nose, to hear what she said. A shooting pain across his ribs made him want to curse out loud. Damn that Blackburn!

“Because of the land,” she whispered, her eyes getting rounder by the minute.

“The land?” He whispered, too, and felt plumb foolish doing it. “Which land?”

“The land in Silver Falls. The land that’s being given to the state of Colorado.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow, ma’am.”

She gave him a look of sheer impatience, then leaned back and practically shouted, “They don’t want the state to have it. I should think that would be perfectly clear. I overheard their arguments with my father at home last week. They aren’t happy, believe me.”

Gabriel winced with the abrupt change in volume. This little conversation had already gone on longer than he’d intended.

“I really don’t think you have anything to worry about, Miss McCabe. If you’ll excuse me, I need to check my sleeping quarters.” He tipped his hat to her and went on down the corridor, leaving her fuming behind him.

“Well, I never…!”

Gabriel didn’t doubt she’d “never.” He sort of suspected she’d enjoy it if she did, though. A stirring in his loins surprised and bothered him. Such feelings were best left alone until Blackburn was half-dead and left rotting on an anthill somewhere.

How long since he’d had such feelings? Too long. Fourteen months. He felt guilty. And empty inside. Best stay away from her. Especially if the young man really was her intended.

Gabriel wasn’t ready for activity of the sort Miss McCabe inspired. Killing Blackburn. Now, that would be an activity he’d enjoy.