High Mountain Drifter
By Jillian Hart
Copyright 2013 by Jillian Hart
http://jillianhart.net
Cover Design by Kim Killion, Hot Damn Designs
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E-book Formatted by Jessica Lewis, Authors’ Life Saver
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Editing by Jena O’Connor, Practical Proofing
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to your online retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Characters in the McPhee Clan
Annie— McPhee cousin
Aumaleigh— aunt to McPhee sisters
Beckett— engaged to Daisy
Blanche— Gemma's mother
Boots— Tyler's dog
Bradley— one of Verbena's admirers
Burton— wrangler at the Rocking M
Buttons— Aumaleigh's mare
Cal— stable boy at the Rocking M
Carl— owns the feed store
Chadwick— works for Tyler
Daisy— 2nd oldest McPhee sister
Dom—Zane's old buddy
Eben— their deceased uncle
Elise— friend to McPhee sisters and Tyler
Ely— their deceased father
Ernest— Verbena's former beau
Fairfax— Bear Hollow's sheriff
Gabriel— Aumaleigh's former love
Gemma— friend, works at mercantile.
George— Ernest's buddy
Gil— married to Maebry, works on ranch
Gus— owns the mercantile, Gemma's pa
Hartwell— town doc, also plays fiddle
Hailie— Beckett's daughter
Helen— Elise's mother
Iris— oldest McPhee sister
Jane— horse
Jo Ellen— Annie's friend
John— cowboy at the Rocking M
Josslyn— cook at the Rocking M
Kellan— cowboy at the Rocking M
Lance— Tyler's father, town landowner
Laura— the sisters's deceased mother
Lawrence— a desperate bachelor
Liliana— Tyler's sister
Louisa— kitchen maid
Maebry— wife to Gil
Magnolia— 2nd youngest McPhee sister
Marlowe— horse
Marvin— horse
Maureen — deceased grandmother, mother to Aumaleigh
Milo— sheriff
Nora— Tyler's mother
O'Laughlin— Owner of Chicago boardinghouse
Orla— maid at the Rocking M
Pax— cowboy at the Rocking M
Penelope— new schoolteacher in town
Priscilla— silk dress girl
Reginald— Josslyn's deceased first husband
Rose— middle McPhee sister
Sadie— Milo's oldest daughter
Sally— Milo's youngest daughter
Sarah— former schoolteacher
Scout— Zane's horse
Seth— Josslyn's son, owns the livery
Shep— young cowboy at Rocking M
Stanley— Beckett and Hailie's dog
Tiernan— cowboy at the Rocking M, Tyler's brother
Travis— brother to Tyler and Tiernan
Tyler— engaged to Magnolia
Verbena— youngest McPhee Sister
Vivian— Gemma's grandmother
Wade— deputy
Wilhelmina— Hailie's elderly nanny
Wilson— deceased grandfather
Winchester— Zane's horse
Zane— bounty hunter
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
About the Author
Chapter One
Bluebell, Montana Territory
Autumn 1876
Zane Reed pulled the horses to a stop at the top of the rise. The high Montana landscape spread out in every direction in shades of amber and brown. A low gray sky hung heavy with clouds spitting drizzly rain. He knuckled back his hat to take in the view of the town of Bluebell, just a faint smudge against the vast landscape of rolling plains, tree-topped hills and shrouded mountains.
He hadn't been back to this part of Montana in a long while. A lot of history here, and not the good kind. Once he'd lived in the uncharted mountains to the south with his pa. Gritting his teeth, he shut off the old memories like a lid on a barrel, locking away whatever was inside. He had a job to do here. He prided himself on being the best bounty hunter on this side of the Colorado. Over the last decade, he'd done time trailing outlaws from Texas to California to Canada, and he never failed. When he took a job, he completed it. At any cost.
Grim, he reached into his duster pocket and pulled out Sheriff Milo Gray's note. Need your help tracking down an outlaw. He's threatening a family called McPhee in my town. He's kidnapped their women. He needs to be stopped. Come as soon as you can. I'm calling in my marker.
Zane sighed, resigned, folded the note and stared at the little smudge of a town. He didn't like little burgs, homespun places full of families. It was too personal, everyone was friendly, wanting to talk, getting in your business, asking personal questions. He clamped his jaw tight at the thought. No, if he had to be around people, give him a town busy enough that no one waved, no one wanted to get to know you, no one bothered to look up when you rode by.
But Milo Gray had done him a big favor once, when he'd truly needed it, way back in their Wyoming days. Looked like it was payback time. Zane grimaced, not quite able to put his thumb on what he didn't like about this job. Maybe it was the word women. Something felt off--way off. He stuffed the note in his pocket. If it had been anyone other than Gray, he would listen to his instincts. But he owed Milo.
Determined to get to it, Zane took up the reins. With a quick snap, the team lunged forward, eager to get where they were going. He couldn’t blame them, the wind blew cold, the sky promised a lot more rain, and it had been a long drive up from handing over his latest capture to the Marshals in Bear Hollow. It would be nice to find shelter, dry out, get something hot to eat.
"Looks like we'll be here for a bit," he told the horses, determined. It wasn't smart to go against his gut feeling, but he wouldn't back out. He'd rather
be hunting outlaws, but he'd take this domestic job and work with the father of this McPhee family. Sure, he felt sorry for the kidnapped women, he'd seen firsthand all the horror and evil that could entail--but he planned to keep his distance, do his job and be done with it. Women and him didn't mix. He was too rough, too tough, too uncivilized to make the fairer gender comfortable around him--even when his past did not precede him.
Well, that suited him just fine. He didn't feel comfortable around them either. He was here to help Milo, that's all that mattered. With his past, hunting men was all he was good for. Would ever be good for. Feeling as cold as the wind, he snapped the reins, urging the horses on faster, feeling an uneasiness he could not explain.
It wasn't the daylight she was afraid of, it was the night. Verbena McPhee set the skein of embroidery floss on the mercantile's front counter and cut her gaze through the front windows, glinting in the mild, late October day. Not that she was afraid exactly, it was more complicated than that. She studied the handful of armed cowboys standing in position on the boardwalk, hands within easy reach of their holstered .45s. They were tough, tall, invincible. Men determined to keep her safe.
Men whose safety she worried about. They'd sworn to protect her so she'd never have to worry about being kidnapped again, but honestly, she was more concerned about their safety. As she gripped her cane and moved a few steps, ignoring the pain in her sprained ankle, her mind went back to the night when she'd been kidnapped, trussed up and nearly raped by Ernest Craddock. Thank heavens the sheriff and his men had arrived when they did, or hers would have been a very different story.
Ernest, her former beau, had gone to extreme lengths to find her. He'd followed her from Chicago, he'd survived a fall off a mountain cliff in a battle with one of those cowboys and after escaping into a dangerous mountain blizzard, who knew what he'd do next? She hated wondering and waiting. It made her mad too.
"This is a lovely shade of blue." A woman's voice sounded faintly, as if from far, far away. "Uh, Verbena? Hello?"
"Oh, you're talking to me." Embarrassed, Verbena blinked, realizing the shopkeeper's spinster daughter was watching her with an arched brow. Well, welcome to my world, she thought, rolling her eyes. There she went again, getting caught up in her own thoughts. "Sorry, I probably looked like a dolt staring off into thin air like that. My poor brain was just wandering."
"That's okay. Mine's been known to do that."
"I need to hobble mine like a runaway horse, then I'd be able to find it when I need it." Verbena grinned. Honestly, she must look like no one was home upstairs. She shook her head at herself. "Thanks, Gemma. Sorry, I guess all these beautiful choices are too much for my poor meager brain to handle."
"Although, I can understand why you were gazing out the window. I can't blame you there. It's a mighty fine view." Gemma pushed a lock of stray black hair out of her eyes to glance at the muscled, masculine cowboys standing outside, alert and ready for any possible danger.
"True, they are mighty fine to look at, but I wasn't looking at them." Verbena remembered a time not so long ago when she used to dream of finding the perfect man, her one true love. But no more. "I've given up hope when it comes to the male gender."
"Me, too." With a wistful sigh, Gemma seized her pencil and scribbled the price of the skein of floss into her account book. "Although that doesn't stop my gaze from drifting over there now and again. Oh, not that I'm seriously looking, mind you. I'm just thankful they're here to protect you after what happened. I can't believe you're out and about. If I were you, I'd never leave my house again."
"Right. That would be the sensible solution." Verbena glanced over her shoulder at three of her four sisters who'd come along with her on the trip to town. They were hovering, and it was making her itchy. She hated that they had to worry. "Unfortunately I've been cooped up with my sisters and I couldn't take it anymore. Let me out, I said."
"Yeah, sure." Gemma smiled, as if she wasn't fooled one bit, and wrapped up the embroidery thread in a small square of brown paper. "I would have liked to have sisters."
"It's over-rated." Verbena shrugged, teasing, waiting for the inevitable comment from one of the hoverers.
"I heard that. I'd take offense, but it's true." Magnolia, her older sister, sauntered up with a grin. She was always light-hearted even with her face covered in cuts and bruises and her thumb in a splint. Magnolia had been taken that night too. "I had to get out of that house. So much fussing. You get kidnapped at gunpoint one time in the middle of the night, and everyone gets crazy protective. I'm surprised Rose has let us wander more than four feet away from her in the store."
"Yes, it's a complete shocker." Verbena leaned to the side to cast a glance around the pickle barrel, biting back a smile. Her next older sister, Rose, turned from the display of colorful sewing thread. "Any moment she'll come charging over here to check on us."
"Hey, I can hear you." With her sunny blond curls tumbling over her shoulders, Rose arched a brow in their direction. Mischief glimmered in her blue eyes. She reached for a bobbin of purple thread to inspect before she headed their way, her lavender dress swirling around her. "We're not being overprotective, we're being sensible."
"Overprotective," Verbena whispered to Gemma, who was watching them all with great amusement.
"You had better enjoy this outing," Rose declared informatively as she added her spool of thread to the purchases on the front counter. "Because I don't think it's going to happen again anytime soon. Look at Iris. She's nearly hyperventilating."
"Oh, I'm not hyperventilating," a voice called out from behind a big stack of fabric bolts. "What I am is seething. I just spotted the sheriff through the front window. Walking down the boardwalk as easy-as-you-please without a care in the world. Looks like he's whistling. Whistling. I ought to march over there and give him a piece of my mind."
"But he already has one of those," Magnolia teased gently, and tossed Verbena a conspiratorial wink.
Okay, she couldn’t help herself. She had to join in the teasing. It was one of the laws of sisterhood.
"Yeah," she agreed sweetly. "If you give away too many pieces of your mind, Iris, you won't have any left."
"That would be a travesty," Magnolia agreed. "Then we'd be able to say, poor Iris has lost her mind. Literally."
"Please. No puns." Iris circled into view in a light blue dress, her heart-shaped face scrunched up with mock annoyance. Her strawberry-blond hair was mussed from the windy drive into town, and she didn't look herself. Normally every hair was in place, but dark smudges bruised the skin beneath her blue eyes, a sign she'd been so upset by recent circumstances that she hadn't been sleeping well.
Clearly unhappy, she plunked a new crochet hook onto the front counter. "You two can make all the jokes you want. We can't go anywhere without armed guards and look at that sheriff. He's just all la-de-da when Ernest is on the loose. Milo Gray is the law in this town. He is supposed to be protecting us."
"He did the right thing that night," Verbena said quietly, laying a hand on her oldest sister's arm. She loved her sister for caring so much, but Milo had made the best decision that he could under the circumstances. As hard as it was to know Ernest was out there on the loose, that he still hunted her, she was glad Milo had called off the search. "I would never want anyone to get hurt on my behalf."
"He should have caught that man, he shouldn't have stopped chasing him."
"It was blizzarding up there on the mountain when the men rescued me. Milo had to make that decision. What if there had been an avalanche, or one of the horses slid down a snowy slope? Someone could have been killed and I can't live with that. I have enough on my conscience already."
Understanding flashed in Iris's periwinkle blue eyes, but her jaw stayed firmly clenched. She wasn't giving up her anger at the sheriff.
I'll soften her up eventually, Verbena thought as she tucked her package of floss into her pocket. She may have to work hard at it, but it was a wort
hy cause. She liked the sheriff, he was a kind man and a widower with two small girls. She also liked the way he looked at Iris, as if she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. That was promising, well, except for Iris's current opinion of him, she thought, backing away from the counter and bumping into the pickle barrel.
Oops. She whirled around, righted the lid she'd knocked ajar and wrinkled her nose at the strong, sour brine scent. When she took a step back, the scent clung to her. Had some of it spilled on her? Oh, probably, she thought, tightening her grip on her cane. This was a new dress. If it got smelly right before this afternoon's get-together, then she'd either have to wear an older dress or pluck one out of the laundry basket--or just infect everyone with her pickly fumes. She did the only thing she could do--take a step back and inspect her skirt. Fortunately she didn't see a single spot of pickle juice on the pretty calico. Whew.
"That was a close call," Gemma commented, concerned, stepping out from behind the front counter. "I did that just yesterday and smelled like pickles all afternoon. I think customers noticed."
"I lucked out, but it was a near thing." Verbena grinned, trying to hide the fact that she felt off-balance, not that she wanted anyone to know how she was feeling. It hadn't been easy being kidnapped, the anger she felt at Ernest still bubbled up at unexpected times, but mostly she didn't want her sisters to worry. Or Gemma either. "I just need to learn to watch where I'm going."
"You've been trying to learn that lesson for a long while," Magnolia joked. "I have too."
"Are you two ready to go?" Iris asked, thanking Gemma for the crochet hook she'd wrapped up nice and neat. "I'll feel better once we're safely home."
Frankly, Verbena had spent enough time at home. She wanted to be out doing something, being useful, taking care of the people she loved. She gazed out the window longingly as the rest of her sisters buttoned up coats and pulled on gloves, ready to leave.
"Thanks for coming by, McPhee sisters." Gemma circled around the counter and opened the door for them. "It looks like you are all set for an afternoon of sewing."