Free Larkspur by Dorothy Garlock Page B

tank run over till the tracks are washed out.”
    Kristin climbed into the buggy and Bernie turned the horse toward the pasture behind the house. She was impressed with how careful he was and glad, now, that she had put on a dark dress and tied a three-cornered cloth, peasant style, over her silvery blond hair. The horse’s hooves were covered with gunnysacks and the well-greased buggy made hardly a sound.
    Bernie didn’t speak until they were well away from the house.
    “Cletus is an old-timer here. He was one of the best wheel-wrights in the Territory in his day. He knows a good many freighters. A train of three wagons came in this morning. They’ll be setting out at three o’clock. They go early and rest the stock in the middle of the day. It’s easier on the teams. You’ll ride on one of the freight wagons. They’ll drop you off at Larkspur and go on.”
    “I told Colonel Forsythe I’d come back this morning and sign the papers. What’ll they do when they find I’ve gone?”
    “They’ll be fit to be tied.”
    “Will they hurt Mrs. Gaffney?”
    “They don’t dare. She’s rather a favorite in town due to her care of the sick.”
    “How about you and Bonnie?”
    “Del Gomer won’t let anything happen to Bonnie that he don’t want to happen,” Bernie said bitterly.
    “Del Gomer. He’s the one who watched her this morning.”
    “He’s there for every meal if he’s in town. He came to the restaurant when we first opened. He was nice and mannerly. Bonnie liked him. They talked for an hour at a time. He met her a couple of times after church and walked her home. She was halfway in love with him when we found out what he is—a hired killer. He works for whoever pays the highest price. There’s been a half dozen random killings this past year that can be chalked up to Forsythe’s gunman.”
    “If she left town, would he follow?”
    “Depends on how tight he’s hooked up with Forsythe.”
    After a silence, Kristin asked, “Is the house at Larkspur more than just a shack?”
    “I don’t know. I’ve never been out there.”
    “Do you think they’ll follow and try to get me to sign the papers?”
    “From what I hear, Lenning’s no slouch when it comes to protecting what’s his. He and Anderson had been together for a long time. Forsythe tried serving eviction papers and his men got a tail full of buckshot.”
    “As long as I own the Larkspur, you and Bonnie are welcome. I would be glad for the company. Cletus said he hadn’t heard that old Mr. Lenning had married.”
    “I ain’t heard that he’s all that . . . old.”
    “Will you remember what I said? I’ve not known you and Bonnie even twenty-four hours, but that’s not important. Friendships are forged in an instant. Please don’t put yourself in danger by shooting that man. Remember that you have a place to come to.”
    “I’ll remember.”
    Dirty white canvas covered the loads that rose up over the six-foot-high sideboards of the freight wagons that were parked on a grassy knoll. The camp was astir. Three teams of mules were being hitched to each wagon.
    “You’ll be all right with these men. Cletus knows them all and vouched for them,” Bernie said.
    A heavily bearded man came to the buggy as soon as it stopped.
    “This the passenger Cletus wants us to drop off at the Larkspur?”
    “She’s the one.”
    “Come on, miss. We’re ’bout to pull out.”
    He helped Kristin out of the buggy and led her to the last high-wheeled wagon in the line. She turned to say good-bye to Bernie, but he had turned the buggy around and another man was unloading her trunk.
    Looping the handle of her carrying bag over her shoulder, she climbed up the high wheel as if she had done it a hundred times before. It wasn’t until she turned to sit down that she had a moment of fright because the seat was so high off the ground. She wanted desperately to tell Bernie good-bye and to thank him, but it was impossible to peer around the load that loomed