Elise Page 18

  "Did they kill anybody?"

  "Looks like a teller was shot, and they got clean away again, just like they always do!" He knew she had been following the Harris gang's activities.

  "It seems as if they keep working their way closer and closer to us. I hope to God they stay away from here."

  "You're not the only one. I like printing exciting news, but I can do without those kinds of headlines."

  "I'm concerned about getting Gabe's opinion on this article, so I'm going to ride out to his house and see what's keeping him." She considered telling Andy about her fear that Boyd might have gone after Gabe, but told herself that there was probably no real basis for her concern. Andy would probably think she was just being foolish to be so worried about him. If Gabe had decided to come in late to work, that was his business. He did, after all, own the Star and could set his own hours.

  "Do you need me to go along with you? Are you worried about riding out alone?" he asked, frowning as he looked at the work stacked up on his desk.

  "It's daylight, so I should be all right. You go ahead and keep working. Ill be back as soon as I've finished talking to him."

  Elise tried not to seem too anxious as she left the office with her article and telegram in hand. She managed to drive out of town at a calm pace, when all she wanted to do was whip the horse to a faster trot. She wondered why she was so worried about Gabe. He was the one who was always saving her. It wasn't the other way around. Still, Boyd's threat rang hauntingly in her thoughts, and she wanted to let Gabe know about it, along with the news of the Harris gang's new robbery.

  Although it was a short trip out of town to Gabe's house, today it seemed to take an eternity. As Elise drew near, she was surprised to hear the sound of gunfire in the distance. Her fear for Gabe's safety grew even more at the thought that Boyd might be there at the house right now, attacking Gabe. She slapped the reins on her horse's back and rushed up the lane to his house. She reined in out front, but saw no sign of Gabe anywhere. After taking her small derringer out of her purse, Elise climbed down from the carriage. She hurried up to the front porch and knocked on the door, but there was no answer. As she was standing there, the gunfire erupted again around back.

  Elise followed the sound to the rear of the house. She kept close to the shrubs, not wanting to show herself, just in case it was Boyd. If he was there, she would have to do whatever she could to help save Gabe. Her little derringer was only a two-shot, but if she came up on him by surprise, she might be able to get off a clear shot at him.

  The sight that greeted her as she left the shelter of the bushes shocked her. Gabe was standing some distance away with his back to her. He was naked to the waist, having shed his shirt in the heat of the day, and he was holding a sixgun as if he knew what he was doing with it.

  Elise stood in silence, looking on as he holstered the gun, then drew and fired at three tin cans he'd set up about fifty feet away. His aim was accurate as he hit all three and sent them flying. He slid the gun back into the holster and turned slightly, allowing her to get a better look at him. It was then that she realized he wasn't wearing his glasses.

  Elise stared at him in disbelief, trying to reconcile this man with the Gabe she knew. She couldn't believe that they were the same. This man was all man. He exuded a sense of power and command. His shoulders and arms were thickly corded with muscle. When he moved, the muscles rippled across the powerful width of his back. She could see the sheen of sweat on his sun-bronzed skin as he continued to practice his draw, and she was amazed that he was tanned. She hadn't even considered that Gabe would ever take his shirt off, let alone look like this when he did.

  Gabe hadn't seen her yet, and she wasn't ready to say anything. She wanted to wait and see what he did next. She moved a little closer, drawn to him, needing to get a better look at him.

  It was then that Elise was able to make out the scars on his back, and she went still. The scars were obviously from bullet wounds, and they weren't old ones. Gabe had been shot!

  The knowledge was a complete and utter shock to her. Gabe? Shot? Why would anyone want to shoot Gabe? He had never said anything about being in any trouble in his life. They must have been grievous wounds. She wanted to reach out and touch the scars, which she knew must be vivid reminders of his pain. She swallowed tightly at the thought, then frowned slightly. How many secrets was this man keeping from her?

  The reporter in Elise awakened. The questions that couldn't be easily answered stayed with her. This was the same man who had saved her from Boyd. This was the man who had kissed her and caressed her just last night. She didn't understand why he wore the glasses when he obviously didn't need them. He was shooting very accurately, and his draw was fast. It occurred to her then that whenever he wrote he used his right hand, but for shooting now he was using his left. Her gaze focused again on the vivid scar on the right side of his back. The wound had been serious, almost deadly, yet he had survived. Who had shot him in the back? And why?

  She took a step forward. She needed to understand. She needed answers.

  "Gabe?"

  At the sound of her call, Trace turned quickly toward her. He was surprised by her presence, and his expression was guarded and wary. "Elise? What are you doing here? Is something wrong in town?"

  She wasn't about to be distracted from what she needed to know about him.

  "You were shot," she said as she stepped forward, drawn to Gabe, wanting to be closer to him.

  He shrugged, not replying as he grabbed his shirt off the fence post where he'd hung it.

  "How did it happen?"

  "It's a long story, and it all happened a long time ago."

  "The scars look new."

  "They're not." His answer was curt and his gaze hardened as she came even closer. He didn't want her too near. He turned his back on her and had just started to shrug into his shirt when she reached his side.

  Elise couldn't help herself as she stopped before him. She reached out to him, her hand just skimming his back near the scar.

  Her touch sent a shock of awareness through him, and Trace almost groaned out loud. He had passed a long, sleepless night thinking of her. The memory of her touch and kiss had left him aroused and wanting more. He had paced the house like a caged animal until dawn, and he had deliberately stayed away from the office this morning just so he wouldn't have to see her. He hadn't been sure that he could keep his hands off her.

  Now, Trace stepped away, consciously distancing himself from her. He took his glasses out of his shirt pocket and quickly put them on. He needed to be Gabe right now. Gabe was the one who had had enough control to walk away from her last night. Gabe was the one who'd told her that their kisses should never have happened.

  "What are you doing here, Elise? Is there a reason you came out here this morning?" he asked again, trying to keep his voice cold as he changed the topic.

  Elise could not explain the disappointment that filled her as Gabe shifted away from her, physically and mentally. Certainly, she couldn't admit to him that she'd come out to the house because she feared that Boyd had come after him.

  "I came for two reasons, really," she began. "First, I came to apologize for last night. I shouldn't have slapped you, and I'm sorry. You were right to get me out of the saloon when you did."

  "It's not necessary for you to apologize. You have nothing to apologize for."

  "Well, I felt that I did owe you one. It could have gotten even more dangerous at the High Time, and I should have realized that. In fact, earlier this morning when I went back to the saloon to get my things, Fernada told me that Boyd did come back in after we'd gone. He'd threatened everybody-you and me included."

  "I had a feeling that he'd be back. What did they do with him?"

  "Dan and Sam threw him out, and Femada is hoping that he never comes in again."

  He nodded and didn't say anything as he worked at the buttons on his shirt.

  Elise was watching him closely. She realized that he was chang
ing back into the Gabe she knew before her very eyes, and she was puzzled by his two personalities.

  "The other reason I came out here to see you was because I finished the article, and I thought you would want to give it a quick read-through."

  "Why would I want to do that? I'm not an editor. You said so yourself." His words were harsh.

  Elise did manage to look a bit shamefaced. "I told you that I was sorry, and I meant it. I'd like you to read over it and see what you think. Oh-and before I forget, Andy got word this morning that the Harris gang robbed another bank, this time in Canyon Creek."

  At her words, Trace went still. "They struck that close to Durango? How long ago?"

  "Just a few days. One teller was shot."

  Unconsciously, Trace's hand settled on his sidearm. "Did the law go after them?"

  "I don't know. That was all the wire said."

  His expression turned stony, revealing nothing of what he was feeling as he thought about Harris. Soon, he would go after them-very soon.

  Elise studied the change in him, wondering how he could seem so different, so quickly. "Gabe? Why were you out here practicing with a handgun?"

  "As you said, you never know what kind of trouble you might run into, being the editor of a newspaper. I wanted to be ready-especially after our run-in last night with Boyd."

  She knew his reason was logical, but somehow she just didn't believe him completely. "Well, from the looks of things, you're already ten times better than Ben was. I know I offered to give you shooting lessons a few weeks ago, but I can see you don't need them. I think you might be able to teach me a few things-especially a fast draw. How long have you been practicing?"

  "Since I moved into the house."

  She knew he hadn't gotten that good that fast, but she said nothing more. "Do you want to read my article?"

  "Where is it?"

  "I left it in the carriage. I'll go get it."

  Trace let her walk on ahead of him. Then, as he started to follow her, he realized he'd made a big mistake. He found he couldn't look away from the gentle sway of her hips as she headed back to the house.

  "On second thought, don't bother. Let's just go in to the office, and I'll read it there." He did not trust himself to be alone with her in the house right now. She was far too tempting.

  "Are you sure?" Elise stopped to look back at him, puzzled by the change in him.

  "I'm late already."

  "I can give you a ride, if you want," she invited him innocently.

  Trace stared at Elise, knowing she had no idea what she'd just offered him or how badly he wanted to take her up on that 'ride'. He knew, too, that if he was truly a gentleman, he would never even have had the thought, but the memory of their passionate embrace the night before was seared into his soul. He wanted her desperately, but he would not give in to his need.

  "No, I'll follow you in a few minutes. You go on ahead," he told her, staying where he was, keeping the distance between them.

  "I don't mind waiting for you."

  "I've got a few things to finish up around here. I'll see you in town."

  Elise didn't wait for his help, but climbed into the carriage and drove off. As she rode away, her reporter's instincts were taking over. She wanted to learn more about Gabe West.

  "Your article is fine. Run it as is," Trace said to Elise as he came out of his office later, her papers in hand. "We may offend some of the those in town with finer sensibilities, but overall, I think your expose will sell papers."

  "Good, and thanks." She looked up from her desk, where she was writing the story on the Harris gang.

  "There's no need to thank me. The article is well written, and we both know you have your facts straight."

  "I've almost got this article on the Harris gang done. Do you want to see it?"

  "Have you learned anything new since that first telegram?"

  "No."

  "Then there's no need. Run it. And for the next few days, I want you to be in charge while I'm away."

  "You're going somewhere?" Elise was completely taken by surprise.

  "Where are you going?" Andy asked, looking up from his work.

  "I'm going to Canyon Creek to see what else I can find out about the gang's whereabouts."

  "If anyone's going to Canyon Creek, it should be me!" Elise spoke up.

  "You're staying here at the paper. I'm going alone," Trace stated.

  "We could go together," she insisted, wanting to be in on any story about Harris.

  "It would be inappropriate for you to travel with me."

  "Why? We'd be going as newspaper reporters, not as anything else." There was a note of challenge in her voice as her gaze met his across the room.

  "I seriously doubt that your grandmother would approve of such a trip."

  "I'll ask her. Maybe she could go with us-if you think you need a chaperone."

  He glared at her. "I said no, Elise, and I meant it. I am your boss, and I need you here with Andy to take care of things. I won't be gone long, and if I find out anything important, I'll wire you the information so you can print a special edition."

  "Are you taking the stage or riding?"

  "I'm going to ride. It'll be faster that way, and I can come back whenever I'm ready."

  "You're sure you won't reconsider taking me with you?" she asked again, hoping against hope that he might change his mind.

  "No. I'm not going to reconsider. You make sure you put out a good paper this week, and maybe I'll have the lead story for you next week."

  "I thought you were the editor of the Star, not a reporter," she countered in irritation.

  He handed her the article on the High Time and started from the office. "You're right. I am your editor, but let's just say you've inspired me."

  With that he was gone, and she was left staring after him, her expression thunderous.

  "I'm the one who should be going to Canyon Creek," she said hotly to Andy.

  Andy only shrugged. "He's the boss."

  "I know."

  Trace was glad to get out of the office. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Elise that she'd inspired him. She'd inspired him all rightinspired him to get out of town and away from her for a while.

  Trace didn't know if he would learn anything new about the gang's whereabouts, but he was going to try. He would be riding out of Durango soon on the final journey of his quest to bring Harris down, and he was going to need all the help he could get to locate the murderer and his men.

  Ben stood at the bar in the Mother Lode Saloon in Canyon Creek, enjoying a beer and relaxing for a while. Since he'd lost the paper in the card game, he'd finished taking care of his family's business and had been just roaming from town to town. He had arrived in town earlier in the day and had decided to stay over after hearing all the talk about the robbery by the Harris gang. Even the working girls in the saloon had been frightened to discover that the bad men had been able to move through their town so quickly and with such deadly force.

  "It's just a shame that that sheriff from Eagle Pass didn't get them all those weeks ago," Lottie Lawson, one of the saloon girls, remarked to her friend Sissy.

  Sissy Perkins looked at her and smiled secre tively. "From what I heard earlier tonight, he still might."

  "Trace Jackson's dead," Lottie scoffed.

  "Maybe, maybe not."

  "What are you talking about, Sissy? He's dead and buried. What do you think is going to happen? His ghost is going to come back and haunt Harris?" she chided her derisively.

  "You may think he's dead, but I'm not so sure. A week or so ago, I had a cowboy in here who got pretty drunked up before we went upstairs. He was talkin' kinda crazy-like while we were upstairs together, and he said Jackson was still alive."

  "Who was he?"

  "I don't know. He never told me his name and he rode out of town early the next morning. He paid me real good, though."

  "What exactly did he say?"

  "Something like, `They think Trace
Jackson's dead, but he ain't. I saw him. I talked to him."'

  "And you believe that?"

  "Why else would he talk about it? He was real drunk, almost passed out."

  "It'll be interesting to see if he was right."

  "I hope it's true. I'd like to think Jackson is still around. The Harris gang scares me. They are one dangerous bunch, what with killing the teller at the bank and all."

  "If Jackson's really alive, he'll get them."

  The two women moved away from where Ben was standing at the bar. He stared after them, lost deep in thought.

  Trace Jackson might be still alive?

  The possibility was mind-boggling-and exciting. The newspaperman within Ben was alive and well, and Ben knew exactly what he had to do. First thing in the morning, he was going to wire Elise and let her know what he'd heard. He knew how interested she was in the Harris gang, and she would be really excited to learn that Sheriff Jackson might not have been killed in the ambush-that he might still be alive and going after the gang.

  Ben grew even more excited. If Elise wrote an article about Jackson's survival, the gang might get nervous and make a few mistakes and get caught. Ben couldn't think of a better place for those robbing murderers than at the end of a hangman's rope. They had been terrorizing the state for years now, and it was time to see them brought to justice.

  Ben believed, just as the women did, that if any lawman was going to catch Harris, it would be Jackson. Jackson's reputation had been real. If he really had come back from the dead to seek his revenge, all the better. Ben knew it couldn't happen to a more deserving bunch.

  Elise was still irritated with Gabe the following morning when she made her way to the office. She and Andy had worked hard the day before, getting the paper ready, and they were pleased with the results. She was eager to see if the community would respond to her story as her grandmother had. She hoped so. It would be good to know that she could make a difference in some lives.

  When she reached the office, she discovered that Andy hadn't shown up yet, so she let herself in and settled in at her desk. This edition was done, so it was now time to start thinking about next week's paper. If she had gone to Canyon Creek, she could have been working on a report on the Harris gang, but stuck here as she was, there was nothing new she could write about the outlaws. She was going to have to come up with a whole new idea for the lead article. She hoped an inspiration came to her soon.