Page 25 of A Dangerous Heart (Wind River Mail-Order Brides #4)

I saac watched Clare press her fingers to her lips and slowly shake her head. She turned her back to Ben, moving to the window.

“I don’t like this,” she said, her voice a watery whisper.

“I know.” Isaac moved to stand at Clare’s shoulder, a few feet from Ben back in the exam room.

A few minutes had passed since the sighting of Lyle Mueller, one of Barlow’s men. Clare had insisted on rushing back to the doc’s, fearing that Ben might have been taken by Victor or one of his men.

Isaac glanced over his shoulder at Ben, sitting up in bed now. Clare had been overwhelmed by relief and burst into messy tears.

Ben had stirred, coming awake. “What’s wrong, Aunt Clare? I ain’t dead, ya know.”

Isaac returned his attention to Clare, watching for danger out the window while Ben devoured the warm bowl of porridge on his lap.

“I want to go back to the cabin,” Clare said. She yanked her sleeve down over her scar and knotted her fingers in front of her, her knuckles white.

He’d prefer to hole up at the main homestead. His brothers could help him defend Clare and the boys if need be. And with Ben’s broken leg and low fever, they needed help.

He pulled the curtains back a few inches and peered out the window. A few townsfolk dotted the boardwalk. A man entered the saloon across the street. He checked to the west—no sign of the marshal yet. He’d asked Doc Powell to track down Marshal O’Grady and send her over.

He let the curtain drop and turned back toward Clare.

“We can’t take Ben out of town on horseback.

” She knew it. Jarring his leg might worsen the injury.

They would need to take the wagon, which would be slow.

Visible. He couldn’t get Clare and Ben out safely until the Barlow Gang was out of the picture.

But he’d been out of commission for a good long time. He needed help.

The bell on the other office door jingled. Clare startled. Marshal O’Grady appeared at the exam room entrance.

“Doc said to come quick,” Danna said, concern etched on her face.

From beneath her worn hat, the marshal’s eyes darted from Isaac to Clare, caught his hand at Clare’s back.

With a subtle tilt of her head, she signaled for them to follow her into the outer office.

Isaac dipped his chin and herded both women into the hall, where Ben couldn’t hear their conversation.

“Got trouble,” he said. “Clare spotted one of the Barlow Gang out on the boardwalk. They’re wanted in three states.” He swallowed back the words to explain what a threat they were to Clare and the boys.

The marshal studied Clare. “How are you acquainted with the Barlows?”

Clare’s back tensed under his hand. He moved it, slipping his hand over her smaller one. Danna’s gaze caught the move. If she was surprised, she kept it hidden.

“Clare’s had some run-ins with the Barlow Gang.”

Danna knew there was more to it. It was there in her pause before she said, “We’d better get a move on, then. Clare, can you identify him?”

“I saw him,” Isaac blurted. “I’ll go with you. Clare needs to stay with Ben.”

Danna’s raised brows were almost hidden under her hat brim. He knew why. He’d turned her down flat when he’d returned to town and she’d asked for his help. Now he was volunteering.

Danna glanced over his shoulder, through the doorway to where Ben was chattering to Hattie. He seemed just fine. But there was no way Isaac was letting one of Victor’s gang near Clare. Not a chance.

“Fine,” Danna said. “If you’re sure that’s the way you want to do this.”

He wasn’t sure, but he moved to follow the marshal to the door.

Clare snagged his hand and tugged him to a halt. “Please, be careful,” she said, her eyes pleading.

“Doc keeps a hunting rifle in the back storage room,” he told her. “Just in case.”

Clare looked like she wanted to say more, but there wasn’t time. He squeezed her hand and followed Danna down the hall and out the door.

Standing in the marshal’s office a few minutes later, listening to Danna brief two deputies and her husband Chas, Isaac felt the panic rising to choke off his air supply. What was he doing?

“McGraw—Isaac.”

His eyes flashed to Danna. The door was open, and the deputies had already moved onto the boardwalk after digging up an old Wanted poster for Lyle. It was a decent likeness, close enough to help the lawmen spot the outlaw in a crowd.

“I need you in your right mind for this. I don’t want to lead my men into an ambush.”

The door banged shut. Isaac tensed. Danna handed Isaac a gun belt strapped with a revolver.

It felt like a thousand-ton weight in his hands.

“Strap it on, McGraw. If you spotted one of the Barlow Gang, there are probably more on the way. I need all the help I can get.”

He stood frozen, staring at the stupid gun belt as if it were a rattler.

In his mind, he saw his hands shaking on the rifle stock, unable to shoot the man who’d almost killed Rebekah. Unable to shoot the bear when the boys had needed him to.

He laid the gun belt on the desk.

“I can’t shoot,” Isaac said, swallowing back the shame. It was the first time he’d admitted it out loud, though Clare knew. “I can identify the Barlow man, but I won’t go armed.”

Danna studied his face for a long time. Humiliation burned inside him, but he clenched his jaw and kept it at bay.

She gave a quick nod. “Let’s go.”

His pulse rushed in his ears as he followed Danna onto the boardwalk.

Chas O’Grady and another man Isaac didn’t know strode down the boardwalk, away from them.

Danna waited, brows raised, until Isaac fell in step with her.

She led the way across the street and turned in the same direction as Chas, walking parallel. “We’ll check each establishment,” she said. “If we spot him, we’ll signal the others.”

It was a sound plan. Lyle wouldn’t know that he’d been spotted, that the law was aware of his presence here. Danna would want to catch him unawares, keep any store proprietors or shoppers out of the line of fire.

Children’s laughter floated on the brisk breeze, and Isaac realized it was a school day. It must be recess time. Kids playing.

But his mind used the sound and took him right back to the dusty street on the day Cody had died.

A tall form rounded the nearest building, and Isaac startled badly enough that Danna whirled to look at him.

It was Jack. Merritt’s husband. He sent a concerned look between Danna and Isaac. “I was just coming back from lunch at home. You look like you’re working. How can I help?”

Danna quickly filled him in, and Isaac didn’t miss the narrow-eyed look Jack sent him.

Jack’s right hand had gone to the revolver strapped at his waist. His intentional glance at Isaac’s lack of belt and weapon was enough to make Isaac flinch.

Jack and Merritt had only been married for six months, but the man had been folded into their family. Knew Isaac’s history but not why he’d left the Marshals.

Isaac felt a beat of trepidation. Was he leading the love of Merritt’s life into a situation he wouldn’t survive?

But it was too late to protest as Danna tipped her head and indicated they should keep on.

The leatherworks was empty save for a young woman behind the counter. She glanced up curiously as Danna and Isaac entered for only a moment and then ducked back outside to the boardwalk where Jack kept watch.

Chas waited at the corner of the next street up. When he caught sight of them, he tipped his hat at his wife.

“That’s the signal,” Danna murmured.

Chas motioned to the saloon. The other deputy must be inside.

“Think it’s him,” Chas said as they joined him out of sight of the swinging doors. “But you’ll want to take a look to be sure.”

“We can go through the back,” Danna said.

Chas pulled a face, muttering about how the owner wouldn’t be happy.

Isaac found himself sandwiched between Danna and her deputy husband as they moved through the small kitchen area and a hallway that led to the front bar.

Every instinct was on high alert as Isaac put his back to the wall, ready to peer through the door when Danna cracked it.

He was attuned to every sound. Soft footsteps from upstairs. Hadn’t been able to keep himself from clocking all the exits.

He almost felt like he was on the job again.

But it was the bolt of pure terror that hit when Danna reached for the door that brought reality crashing back in.

He couldn’t be the reason someone else got killed.

* * *

By the time the sun cast long shadows through the doc’s front-room windows, Ben had gone back to sleep, and Clare had wound herself up tighter than a coiled spring.

She’d never been in the middle of one of Victor’s heists, but he’d often read aloud the newspaper accounts of his crimes.

His voice had filled with a maniacal glee as he’d recalled the bankers they’d beaten and locked inside bank safes to suffocate.

The dry-goods stores looted and ransacked while the owner sat tied to a chair at gunpoint, their livelihood destroyed. Victor’s men were cruel and degenerate.

Isaac…Her mind flashed to him carrying Ben up the cliff. What if he was out there right now, bleeding from a bullet Lyle would delight in putting in him?

What was taking so long?

As if in answer, the door eased open with a soft creak, and Isaac’s tall form stood on the threshold. Tall, strong, and alive. Her immediate urge was to run to him and throw her arms around him. Instead, she hugged her waist. Everything was so off-kilter since the wedding.

“Are you all right?” She scanned him from head to toe.

He nodded, his eyes pinned to her face.

She breathed in deeply. “And the marshal? Her deputies?”

“Everyone’s fine, Clare. But Danna needs you to come down to the jail and identify Victor’s man.”

Hattie slipped into the room.

“Hattie will sit with Ben.”

She couldn’t refuse, no matter how much she wanted to. She was enveloped in numbness as she trailed Isaac outside, down the boardwalk, and to the marshal’s office, which was apparently also the jail.

Isaac followed her into the marshal’s office. She hesitated in the doorway, not wanting to look past the desk to the three jail cells beyond. The single room with a wide desk and a few chairs seemed even tinier knowing that an outlaw from her past was in one of those cells.

“We need to know if anyone else is in town,” Isaac whispered from behind.

Lyle Mueller sat on a metal cot behind bars, his hands that were tied with a rope balanced on his knees, his expression tight-lipped and mulish.

“Is this him?” Danna asked.

Clare didn’t have time to answer before recognition dawned on the man’s face. His wiry brows shot up, and his lips turned down in an angry sneer.

“What are you doing here?” he spat.

The man seemed smaller, almost impotent, absent the shotgun and pistol he always carried. Lyle’s sinister glare settled on Clare. The air in the room thickened. All eyes shifted to Lyle. An uneasy silence followed, then Clare took a step forward and raised her chin defiantly.

“Did Victor send you after me?” Inwardly, she winced at the uncertain note in her voice.

Lyle clamped his mouth shut, eyes glittering. But he couldn’t hide the genuine shock that played on his face. His eyes darted around the room, bouncing from the marshal, back to Clare, and onto Isaac. Clare crossed her arms, staring at him.

One of the deputies spoke up. “Could be scouting for some kind of robbery?”

The thought of Victor and his gang here, in Calvin, for nefarious purposes made her feel sick inside. Imagining the shop boy on the other end of Victor’s gun was terrifying, and she blinked away the awful thought.

Danna mulled this over. “Found him loitering near the train station. Go ask the business owners nearby if he came inside.”

Isaac’s silent presence behind Clare’s shoulder reminded her of the information they needed from Lyle. She had to push to get the words past the knot in her throat.

“Who else is here?”

Lyle smirked. “No one else here but yours truly. Victor wants his boys back—that’s all he cares about.” His tone held the annoying singsong tone that meant he was lying. “He’s gonna kill you when he finds you,” he taunted, a malevolent gleam in his eyes.

She turned away quickly, heart hammering like a fist against her ribs. Isaac was right there, escorting her outside onto the boardwalk, a comforting hand at her elbow.

She couldn’t breathe.

He took her hand in his.

“I want to go home,” she whispered, her throat closing around the word home . For the first time in her life, she had a home where she truly felt safe.

But if Victor’s men had tracked her to Calvin, they could find her on the homestead.

He squeezed her fingers. “You’re not alone, Clare. Not anymore.”