West and pressed the pedal as hard as the speed limit would allow.
THIS WAS LIKE A magic carpet ride, or a train that could go full-speed across the country. Dillinger was fascinated by the way Auburn flew past the cars and signs on the highway. It was amazing! There were things overhead she called airplanes—he didn’t let on that he had barely heard of flying machines—and so much to see that his head was whirling. She was the reason he was here, he was positive.
He had to convince her to send him and Rose back. They were not suited for living like this. First, he had to return Rose to her rightful mother, even if it meant helping them financially. He felt certain no mother would abandon a baby on his porch unless the woman was destitute.
The only thing he couldn’t understand was why the mother had chosen his porch. He was miles from town. He had a bad reputation. He didn’t darken the doorway of a church. And this was no frontier baby. Her clothes were store-bought. Her socks were knit of the finest lace and cotton, not rough country socks made for warmth and work, like his. Rose should be placed with a family of wealth, not stay with him, if he couldn’t manage to find her birth mother. He knew it was imperative that he get the baby home as fast as possible.
What if he could talk Auburn into taking him and Rose back home to the ranch, and going with them? She said she needed to hide away. She’d be safe at his ranch. No one would ever find her there.
But did he want the opinionated woman in his home, where Polly had brought him such warmth and contentment?
For Rose’s sake, he could do it.
He’d opened his mouth to broach the question, when suddenly he felt himself being jerked against the seat belt.
PIERRE TOSSED THE EARRING across the room. He’d fallen asleep in a chair in Dillinger’s den, and had awakened annoyed that the man hadn’t yet returned. The snow outside was piling up, making a mess of the dirt road. If he wasn’t careful, he’d get snowed in and trapped here for God only knew how long. Anger built inside him. He felt outsmarted by the gunslinger, and he hated it. Maybe the man had planned to be gone for weeks, months.
Pierre felt bad for throwing his sister’s earring. He picked up the delicate bauble again, giving it one last shake. His heart heavy, he vowed to return next week, when Dillinger might be home and the snow and ice not threatening to encase the house in a chilly tomb. Why the man chose to live out here when he could have lived in town was puzzling, but he’d had Polly all to himself this way. A beautiful flower like his sister hadn’t deserved to wilt out here in the uncivilized wilderness.
Pierre put the earring back on the writing desk, staring at it for a long time, tempted to take the trinket with him. Maybe the charcoal drawing of his sister would ease the ache in his heart more. But no, it didn’t truly capture the fire Polly had possessed.
He left everything just as it had been, so the gunslinger would never suspect someone had been waiting here, planning to kill him.
Chapter Four
Dillinger tried not to gasp as his body strained against the seat belt. It was as if he were being jerked by a strong, invisible hand trying to tear him from the car. Only the straps kept him restrained.
“Is something wrong?” Auburn asked, staring at him in the rearview mirror.
“No,” he said, grinding out the word.
She checked the road, then glanced back to his reflection. “Are you sure? You don’t look good.”
He unhooked the belt, relieved when the pressure subsided.
“You have to wear that,” Auburn said. “It’s against the law not to wear a seat belt.”
He grimaced at the pain in his stomach and across his chest. “Do you think that’s a strange thing to tell a gunslinger?” He checked the belt again. This time it was acting as it should. Maybe the thing had malfunctioned. Maybe there hadn’t been anything supernatural trying to drag him from this car.
“You know, about that gunslinger business, maybe we should figure out some other livelihood for you, when people ask what you do,” Auburn said, her voice bright.
“Why? Who’s going to care?”
She shook her head. “No one, most likely. But if anyone asks, why don’t you tell them you work for…I don’t know.” Her gaze lit on him in the mirror again. “You can say you’re an unemployed model.”
He laughed. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, just say you’re a ranch owner.”
“I am.”
“You are?”
She sounded so shocked that he frowned. “I told you. I own a ranch outside of Christmas River.”
“But I looked that up. There’s no such town.”
“Care to place a wager on that?”
“No.”
She could be quite the shrew. He tried to relax in the magic vehicle, which had a material top that she said pulled back to let in sunshine and fresh air and the feeling of freedom.
“You felt it, didn’t you?”
She’d caught him off guard. “Felt what?”
Auburn moved one finger in the air in a slow circle. “If you hadn’t been wearing that seat belt, you would have gone airborne again.”
Polly wouldn’t have hounded him so. This woman had no qualms about doing it. “The contraption simply malfunctioned.”
“You felt it, and now you know I was telling you the truth.”
He didn’t care. He was so sleepy all he could do was send a fast glance at Rose to make certain she was still happy and nestled in her carrier. Fear suddenly hit his gut. “Do me a favor,” he said, fighting to keep his eyelids open. “If something happens to me, take care of Rose.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” Auburn said, trying to sound soothing. “You just have a bad habit of levitating.”
“Promise,” he insisted.
“I’m not really cut out for taking care of a baby. I’ve got problems of my own.”
He couldn’t argue with her any longer. Unconsciousness pulled at him, forbidding him to stay awake, as much as he would have enjoyed telling her that he’d never seen a woman so cut out to be a mother.
Except maybe Polly.
And that worried him, too. He fell asleep, his soul tortured by thoughts of what might have been and what should have been.
WHAT WOULD IT HURT to swing by this place he called Christmas River? Maybe the answers to his problem were there. Auburn punched “Christmas” into her GPS system. They weren’t far from a town called Christy River—maybe
