The Bounty Hunter’s Redemption. Janet Dean

Anna wiped her damp eyes, then gave a weak smile. “I’m emotional since I lost Walt. It’s a comfort to know you understand the pain and loneliness of losing a husband.”

      Anna’s gaze landed on Carly’s dress. Her eyes widened, as if just realizing Carly wasn’t wearing black. Widow’s weeds would chafe, be a sham. Carly had lived a lie her entire marriage and wouldn’t pretend to grieve.

      She lurched to her feet. “I’ll make tea. Do you use sugar?”

      Anna shot her a quizzical look. “Yes, please. I need to stretch my legs,” she said, then rose and hobbled to the front.

      Carly couldn’t admit the loneliness and pain Anna spoke of had occurred during her marriage, not from her husband’s death. She couldn’t admit she’d married a scoundrel without faith. She couldn’t admit in the past month she’d found peace and happiness as Max’s widow.

      That is, until Nate and Anna had showed up and put the ownership of her shop in jeopardy.

      As Carly added tea leaves and poured hot water into her rose-sprigged teapot, she chastised herself for getting emotionally involved with Anna. In a matter of hours, her enemy had become a woman with whom she could empathize. That would never do. How could she fight for her son’s welfare and not bring Anna harm?

      She would focus on what mattered—getting the bridal finery made. She’d pay Anna the wage they’d agreed upon. Hopefully, after expenses, Carly would have enough profit to offer to buy Anna out.

      Carly loaded the pot and cups onto a tray, then strode into the shop. What she saw stopped her in her tracks.

      Nate Sergeant stood near his sister, filling the room with his presence. As he’d promised, he’d come to look after Anna’s interests, to make sure Carly wasn’t trying to convince Anna to give up the shop.

      Mr. Sergeant threatened Carly’s very existence. Well, the years she’d spent living under a man’s intimidation had made her strong. She would not surrender the shop without a fight.

      * * *

      Nate leaned against the shop counter, legs crossed, trying to appear at ease, as if the conversation he wished to broach was of no consequence. Otherwise Carly might raise those defenses of hers and refuse to hear him out. But inside he was coiled tighter than an overwound spring.

      Getting anywhere in Gnaw Bone required a lot of jawing. “I’m looking for someone you might know,” he said, his tone casual.

      “Strange as it may sound to a man like you, I don’t rub shoulders with criminals.”

      So much for keeping this female tinderbox calm. “That’s the last thing I’d think. I’m talking about a woman, not an outlaw.”

      Carly’s stormy-sea eyes softened from forged steel to hard-packed clay. “I’m sorry. That was rude.” She took a breath. “Why do you want to find this woman? Is she a friend of yours?”

      “No. An outlaw I’m pursuing supposedly has a lady friend in the area.”

      “In Gnaw Bone? This is a peaceful little town.”

      “Has a stranger come into the shop in the past several months?”

      “Folks pass through. I can’t know everyone.” She took a sip of tea. “What does this woman look like?”

      “I don’t know.”

      “Show Carly that wanted poster,” Anna said.

      Nate didn’t want to jeopardize his investigation, but if Stogsdill should accompany his floozy into this shop, Mrs. Richards, her son and Anna would be at risk. “Can you keep this to yourself?” he said. “If word gets out I’m looking for this rogue, his lady friend might warn him away.”

      “You’ll just have to trust me. If he’s in the area, I should know what he looks like.”

      Tamping down a sigh, Nate removed the wanted poster from the pocket of his vest, then unfolded and laid the crumpled paper on the table.

      Carly stared at the sketch of Stogsdill’s handlebar mustache, sideburns and long lashes, in sharp contrast to his lifeless, cold eyes.

      “He might look different. He could’ve shaved off the facial hair,” Nate said.

      “I’ve never seen the man.”

      Anna laid a hand on Carly’s arm. “I hope you never do. Shifty Stogsdill is a heartless killer.”

      “From reports of bank robberies he’s been involved in, I don’t believe Stogsdill is here now. But, perhaps you can help me track down his female friend,” Nate said.

      “I want this rogue caught, but I don’t see how I can help.”

      “Do you remember a customer who looks different than most?”

      “The ladies who frequent my shop are not about to be attracted to an outlaw.”

      “Perhaps she doesn’t know he’s an outlaw. Perhaps—”

      “Don’t pester Carly. If she knew anything, she’d tell you.” Anna rose, walking to where Nate leaned against the wall, her gait more unsteady than usual. “You’re obsessed with catching Stogsdill. Won’t have peace until you do. Well, I won’t have peace as long as you’re putting your life at risk.”