The Christmas Journey. Winnie Griggs

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      Jo felt another stab of jealousy as Mr. Lassiter turned to go. What must it be like to just pick up and head out anywhere, anytime you took a notion to? Someday she’d find out.

      Or so she prayed every night.

      She rubbed the side of her face. I truly am trying to be patient, Lord. But I’m twenty-three and not getting any younger.

      With a sigh, she let it go and watched Mr. Lassiter ride the short distance to Danvers’ Mercantile. One thing she could say for the man, he sat a horse well. Seemed to have a knack for appearing both relaxed and in command at the same time.

      Seemed he’d do all right with Scout, after all.

      At least he wouldn’t have the weather to worry about. November was one of those changeable months in these parts. You could have mild weather one day and frost the next. This was one of the sunnier days.

      Jo watched him step past the table of pumpkins and gourds Mr. Danvers had set up out front and enter the mercantile. With a shake of the head, she decided she’d wasted enough time worrying about the stranger, and turned back to the livery. Then frowned.

      Otis’s and Clete’s horses were hitched in front of the saloon. Now, why in blue blazes were they still hanging around town?

      She retrieved the second rifle and carefully loaded it. They probably wouldn’t be back to bother her, but it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared. Especially if those polecats were getting liquored up.

      Jo sat at her worktable where she had a clear view of the street, and picked up a harness that needed mending. From here she could watch both the mercantile and the saloon.

      A few minutes later Mr. Lassiter stepped back out on the sidewalk. Sure hadn’t wasted any time. He quickly attached a bundle to Scout’s saddle and gathered up the reins.

      Yep, something had definitely lit a fire under that man.

      As if he felt her watching, he glanced up and his gaze locked on hers. Even from two blocks away, Jo felt the impact of that look down to the tips of her toes.

      Land sakes—what was it about this man that could irritate her, confuse her and make her want to squirm all at the same time? And if he thought she would look away first he could just—

      A wagon passed between them and the connection was broken. When Jo’s line of sight was clear again, Mr. Lassiter had already mounted up and was headed out of town. Not wanting to be caught staring again, Jo managed to watch his progress without looking directly at him.

      When he passed in front of the livery, Mr. High-and-Mighty Lassiter gave her a brief tip of the hat, but didn’t bother to pause or speak. Which was just fine with her. She didn’t care if he paid her any notice or not.

      After he’d passed by, she slammed the bridle down with a thunk and stood, stretching her muscles. She suddenly felt restless, felt the urge to do something physical.

      Then she stilled. Someone else was watching Mr. Lassiter leave town. Otis and Clete lounged outside the saloon, all but licking their chops, nudging each other like a pair of weasels who’d spied a way into the chicken coop.

      Even after they stepped back inside the saloon, Jo couldn’t shake the notion they were up to no good. And that Mr. Lassiter was their target.

      She retrieved her lunch pail and absently picked at her meal, not tasting a single morsel.

      Sure enough, ten minutes later Otis and Clete swaggered out of the saloon, mounted their horses and rode off in the same direction as Mr. Lassiter.

      Otis glanced her way and the ugly smile he flashed sent alarm skittering up her spine like a frightened centipede.

      She had to do something. But what?

      Jo tugged on her earlobe. Business wasn’t exactly brisk right now. She could likely afford to leave things unattended for a bit.

      A few minutes later she was marching down the sidewalk, her pace just short of a trot, trying to figure out exactly what she’d say to Sheriff Hammond.

      Otis and Clete had caused enough trouble in town lately that she was sure the sheriff would be inclined to believe they were up to no good. But she didn’t really have any proof, other than a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. And even if he agreed with her that Mr. Lassiter was in danger, would he be willing to take action now that they were headed away from Knotty Pine?

      A few minutes later Jo marched back into the livery, as frustrated as a frisky dog on a short leash. Just her luck—Sheriff Hammond was out. No telling when he’d be back either. And she just couldn’t shake the feeling that every minute counted.

      She might be wrong about this whole mess, but fool or no she had to find out what Otis and Clete were up to. If those two varmints ambushed Mr. Lassiter she didn’t have a whole lot of trust in his ability to hold his own.

      Heavenly Father, help me figure out what to do.

      She tugged on her ear again, trying to come up with a plan. A heartbeat later she spied a familiar towheaded boy on the sidewalk, and as quick as that made up her mind. “Tommy, I need you to do me a favor. Head up to the boardinghouse quick-like. Tell Danny I need him back here for a spell.”

      With a nod, the boy set off at a run.

      Jo grabbed a saddle and headed toward Licorice’s stall. She set to work, praying alternately that her suspicions were wrong and that she wouldn’t be too late.

      By the time Danny arrived she was ready to go.

      She gave him a smile she had to force. “I need to ride out after that Lassiter gent. He forgot something.” Like watching his back. “Think you can keep an eye on things while I’m gone? It might take a while to catch up with him.”

      Danny’s chest puffed out. “You can count on me.”

      Jo ruffled his hair. “Especially when it means you get out of doing chores for Cora Beth, huh?”

      Danny answered with a prisoner-set-free grin.

      “Don’t forget what I said about not getting into any dust-ups while I’m gone.” She patted Licorice and casually retrieved the rifle.

      Danny frowned at the firearm. “You expecting trouble?”

      “Just СКАЧАТЬ