The Gunslinger's Untamed Bride. Stacey Kayne

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СКАЧАТЬ three days. “The carriage is filling with dust.”

      She pulled down the heavy flap. Regi fanned his kerchief, wafting them with his pungent cologne.

      “Honestly, Reginald, a little dust won’t kill you.”

      “No, love, that’s your job. You may have been raised in the wild, but I was not. You heard the driver, these roads are frequented by bandits.”

      She glanced at the men seated across from them, all dressed in tailored suits and bowler hats. Her accountants watched her cousin in mild amusement. Brilliant advisors and established family men in their late thirties and early forties, Johnson, Brown and Allen didn’t seem to share Reginald’s distress.

      “We’re nearly to Pine Ridge, Regi, and we haven’t had a single altercation.” Other than his incessant complaints. “I didn’t force you to come along,” she said, settling back against the velvet seat.

      “No, your uncle did. My grandfather clearly hates me.”

      Lily wasn’t sure her uncle Alder liked anyone.

      “I want to get in and out, Lily. Just grab your files and perhaps we can make it back to that valley inn by nightfall.”

      “It’s going to take a couple of days, Reginald.” She was counting on it. While she had a company agenda, her main interest centered on one employee.

      Her chest tightened at the thought of facing her father’s killer. She slid her hand into a pocket sewn into the thick folds of her skirt. Her fingers brushed the wooden grip and cold metal of her father’s revolver. She’d loaded the gun just as he’d taught her, leaving the first chamber empty.

      “Miss Carrington is quite right,” said Mr. Allen, removing his spectacles. He tucked the wire frames into the valise on his lap, along with his newspaper. “We have a payroll to disperse. Today will likely be spent simply organizing paperwork, and then we still have the task of tallying wages.”

      Reginald shook his head. “Utter suicide,” he murmured. “All of this could have been done at the office.”

      “Hush,” Lily said, growing annoyed with his constant pessimism. “We’ve taken the necessary safety precautions and no one knows we have the funds or has reason to suspect we’re bringing them. Surely our employees have waited long enough for their pay. Once we have the proper documentation, I’m sure they’ll be grateful for their wages and we can move on to establishing some new order.”

      Reginald glared at her over his silk hankie as he took another strong whiff of perfume.

      The carriage slowed before rocking to a stop.

      A rush of nerves and anticipation swirled through Lily. The driver’s seat creaked as he stepped down. Light spilled into the dim cab as Mr. Dobbs, her armed guard, swung the door wide. He was a rather large and brooding fellow, but the hint of a smile twitched beneath the curve of his black mustache.

      “Miss Carrington,” he said, holding his hand out to assist her onto the step. “We’ve reached the lumber mill at Pine Ridge.”

      She placed her gloved hand over his palm and emerged from the carriage into the cool mountain air. She was glad she’d dressed warmly. Her full skirt belled out, wedges of a heavy tapestry in green, blue and brown paisleys tucked into folds of dark green velvet. As her accountants followed her, Lily brushed heavy wrinkles from her green velvet waistcoat and fluffed the layered bustle crushed by hours of travel. The sound of rushing water drew her gaze to a breathtaking sight.

      She walked to the edge of the high cliff overlooking a wide stream. Clear, sparkling water rushed over rocks and giant boulders. On the other side of the river the land had been stripped bare, giving a clear view of miles of green ripples, a weaving of forest valleys and tree-topped mountains.

      “Oh, my goodness. It’s like standing on the edge of the world. And knowing I own it.”

      “Be sure they put that on our matching headstones.” Reginald stepped beside her, his frown firmly in place.

      “How can you look at such beauty with a scowl?”

      “Perhaps you should glance behind you, sweets.”

      Lily turned, glancing past the carriage, and her good spirits plummeted. What a complete and utter mess.

      Pine Ridge appeared to be no more than a maze of logs, piles of planks, and poles with cables strung in all directions. Splintered wood and shavings littered the rutted ground. For all the piles of planks and logs, the dozen or so small cabins spaced across the yard seemed rather flimsily constructed, pieced together of mismatched boards and spare wood.

      Aside from thin trails of smoke rising from stovepipes on two of the cabins, the cluttered camp appeared to be abandoned.

      “Oh, my.”

      “Hmm. I’ll be expecting that apology by the end of the day.”

      “Did they know we were coming, Miss Carrington?” asked Mr. Dobbs.

      “No.” She drew a deep breath and went to stand with her men. “I didn’t think it wise to announce our arrival while carrying such delicate cargo.”

      Dobbs nodded in agreement.

      A screeching whine echoed from downstream.

      “The mill seems to be running,” she said, unable to see beyond the bend in the river and a thicket of pines. “Shall we make our way through the camp?”

      Brown and Johnson each lifted an end of the lockbox holding the payroll. Mr. Allen gripped the handles of three leather cases containing their ledgers and accounting files.

      “What should I do with the luggage?” asked the driver, standing near his team of horses. Their trunks were still strapped to the top of the carriage.

      “Leave them for now,” she said, setting off across the grounds. “And wait here for us.” If no one was around to collect their pay, they may indeed be traveling back to the valley as Regi had hoped.

      Lily carefully picked her way across the rutted dirt, stepping over splintered wood and chunks of tree bark. The scent of freshly baked bread grew strong as they passed a few cabins, none of them appearing to be more than common living quarters. The distant sound of a cow echoed across the yard, along with the cluck of chickens—all good signs of inhabitants.

      The squeak of hinges drew them to a stop. A man stepped out from one of the ramshackle cabins to their right. His hat hid all but the shaggy brown beard of his face as he fumbled with the closure of his trousers. His other hand gripped an ax. Finished with his pants, he tucked his hands and the ax through red suspenders, then froze at the sight of them.

      “Good afternoon,” said Dobbs.

      The lumberjack quickly shrugged his suspenders into place, his hand taking a rather firm hold on his ax.

      Dobbs stepped in front of Lily, blocking her view. “Who’s in charge of this camp?” he asked.

      “You the new owner who’s holdin’ our pay?”

      “I’m a representative СКАЧАТЬ