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Jim bent low over Crusader s neck, the wind scouring his face as he rode hard across
the open land. He closed his eyes and imagined himself as a hawk soaring high above the
earth, wild, free, boundless. Riding always made him feel invincible, as if he could
accomplish anything, handle whatever the world threw at him. His body and hand still
ached from last night s fight, but it was worth a little pain to have a moment of freedom
for himself and the horse.
Poor Crusader had been cooped up indoors or in the paddock all week, and was
happy to run as far as Jim would let him. Rasmussen never exercised any of the horses,
and with Jim s new job he hadn t had time to take them out. He wondered what would
draw someone who didn t seem to care much for horses to decide to own a livery stable.
Finally deciding he d gone far enough, Jim reined in Crusader and headed him back
toward town. Broughton looked small on the horizon, like a child s blocks tumbled
across the grass. Jim remembered the wooden squares and rectangles he d played with as
a boy; the hours spent building houses, bridges, barns and forts. Seeing Broughton from a
distance, it was hard to imagine all the people who lived there going about their daily
business, each with plans, hopes and deep emotions they kept hidden inside.
As he cantered closer, the town loomed larger. The charred ruins of the McPhersons
house and barn lay on his left. He glanced at them and thought of the conversation he d
witnessed between Karak and the droopy-eyed man, who was now sitting in a jail cell as
far as he knew. There was no way either of those men would be released after what
they d attempted with Catherine. If Karak somehow convinced the sheriff to accept
another payoff, Jim would find some way to keep the men from hurting anyone again
even if he had to kill them.
Could he actually do like that? He was no killer. But didn t working for a man like
Grant Karak make him just as bad as those men? Jim believed Karak and his crew were
guilty of causing the McPhersons fire and yet he told no one. He was sure the goods he d
unloaded from the train were stolen, but he accepted payment for his labor and kept the
knowledge to himself. How was he any better than any of Karak s other henchmen?
The cleansing, invigorating feeling riding had given him evaporated as worries
gathered in his mind. Should he try to explain to the deputy what he knew or keep silent
and accept bribe money? Would the deputy even listen if Jim drew him a picture or
offered to lead him to the shed? Better to keep quiet a while longer. Next time Karak
asked him to do after-hours work, he d check inside one or two of the boxes and find out
exactly what he was stealing.
The town was quiet as Jim rode toward the stable. It was Sunday and every good
Christian person was at church. The rest were sleeping in after a late night at the Crystal.
Not everyone had attended the harvest social and Murdoch s place had probably been as
busy last night as it was any other Saturday.
Inside the livery, Jim dismounted and bent to unfasten the saddle and lift it off the
horse s back. After setting it aside, he grabbed Crusader s bridle to lead him to his stall.
He looked up and froze at the vision in front of him.
Catherine stood in the dim interior of the stable looking as fresh as spring in a pale
lilac dress. She smiled at him, and his heart expanded, filling his chest almost painfully,
as if it would actually burst with happiness.
He reached out his hand and she walked toward him and took it.
Chapter Twenty
The benefit of being accosted by drunken men and nearly dragged into a dark alley
was that Catherine easily convinced Mrs. Albright that she needed to stay home from
church and rest. There was no need to exhibit a fake cough or lie about having a
headache. From her window, she could see the corner of the church and the stream of
people going inside it. She quickly dressed and hurried downstairs and out the front door.
Last night she d learned several things about herself. She was a despicable coward
and she loved Jim Kinney, and not just because he d swooped in like some dark avenging
angel to protect her from those men. The realization had dawned crystal clear in her mind
when he stood in front of her, battered and muddy, and she had taken his hand. Emotion
she could no longer deny had surged through her.
Everything had happened so quickly it hardly seemed real. One moment she d been
wondering how to apologize to Jim for snubbing him, the next she was being attacked,
then Jim was there, pulling her free. She d watched him fight like a wildcat, twisting,
kicking, punching and crying out a wordless, eerie yell. She was terrified he d be killed,
but Dean Gunderson had come roaring in like a steam engine. In what seemed like
seconds, the fight was over. Nathan took a statement from her and he and the sheriff
apprehended the men.
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