A no-good gunslinger.
He was so damn tired of fighting the past. Juniper closed his eyes, silently praying that Lily Palmer would take his advice.
“Good afternoon.”
Juniper opened his eyes as a little man in a bowler hat and ruffled suit stepped into his office.
“Reginald Carrington,” he said, rushing toward the desk, extending his hand.
“Sheriff Barns,” Juniper said as he stood and shook the man’s slender hand. His last name, dainty grip and frilly white shirt explained a lot. “I take it you’re the new owner.”
“Of sorts. We arrived a short while ago and I seem to have lost my charge.”
“Your charge?”
“My partner, actually. Lily Carrington.”
“Lily Carrington?”
“Yes. She insisted on being present for the inspection and must have taken a notion to have a look around on her own. Quite like Lily, you see. She’s very involved in all of her projects. The boy from the mill suggested I’d find her here.” The man’s brows pinched inward as he glanced around the office.
“She’s not here,” Juniper said, the sick feeling in his stomach turning to a ball of flames. He wondered if this dandy was her husband. “She’s on the ox wagon headed down the mountain.”
“The wagon that just left a short while ago?”
“Yeah.”
“You must be mistaken. We stopped the driver. Lily wasn’t with him.”
“She was, you just didn’t see her because, uh … she was on the buckboard. Under a blanket.”
Reginald’s dark eyes grew wide. “I beg your pardon?”
“Women aren’t allowed up here. She was unconscious when—”
“Good Lord!” Reginald said in alarm. “You knocked her out?”
“Of course not. That was how I found her. She had stepped into the path of a lumber hoist.”
“Is she all right?”
“She seemed all right.” Other than wanting him dead. “When she woke up she didn’t say anything about being a Carrington. She just said her name was Lily. I sent her down the mountain the best way I could without causing a ruckus with the men.”
“If she allowed you to send her off without a fight, she was far from all right! Lily is hardly some docile flower.”
“I noticed.” Juniper rubbed at the tense muscles in the back of his neck. “Believe me, she was fighting mad. Did I mention she was handcuffed under that blanket? And gagged?”
Reginald blinked several times, his expression seeming frozen in place. “You accosted the owner of this camp and sent her—”
“The who?”
“Your boss, Sheriff Barns. Lily is L. P. Carrington. Lily …Palmer … Carrington.”
His slow, clear pronunciation didn’t make the announcement any less of a shock. “Oh, hell.”
“Indeed.” Laughter tickled from Reginald’s throat. “You poor man. Don’t think for a moment I’ll be able to save this situation. Lily controls everything, and her wrath could make the devil tremble.”
Somehow Juniper didn’t doubt it. Cursing, he reached for his hat. “Can you ride?”
The dandy snapped straight as though pricked by a pin. “Of course I can ride. I wouldn’t have kept up with Lily all these years if not.”
“If that means you can keep the devil’s pace and stay in a saddle, you can come with me.”
Outside he motioned toward the brown-and-white mare tethered beside Scout, his chestnut stallion. “You can take Günter’s mount. You’ll likely have to raise the stirrups.”
Reginald didn’t hesitate, stepping up to the horse to make necessary adjustments.
“She your wife?” Juniper asked as he slung into his saddle, the notion refusing to take hold in his mind.
Reginald glanced up from a stirrup. “Heavens, no. Lily’s my second cousin.”
“Then how is she a Carrington?”
“By birthright, Sheriff Barns. Her mother was Rose Carrington, youngest of four siblings to inherit the Carrington fortunes, a quarter of which went to Lily after Aunt Rose’s death.” He mounted the mare with reassuring ease. “A moment with Lily should convince anyone that she’s a Carrington through and through.”
“I don’t think so,” Juniper muttered as he spurred his horse. Reginald had clearly never met Lily’s daddy.
They beat a fast trail out of camp. As they rode down the wide road cut into the mountainside, gunfire echoed across the sky.
What the hell?
Juniper met Reginald’s startled gaze. Both men reined in their horses, listening to an echo that sounded no farther than the next bend in the winding road.
“Hey, Reginald? Why did you stop the wagon?”
“To send our strongbox down to The Grove.”
Juniper’s heart clenched. “You put the payroll on an unarmed wagon?”
“Surely not! We sent our guard along.”
A single armed man? Juniper urged his horse onward, praying the gunfire they’d heard had been warning shots, and that Lily was safely hidden beneath the blankets.
When the load of logs came into view the team of oxen were at a standstill. Chuck was nowhere in sight.
“Chuck!”
“Over here!”
The old teamster stood on a thin strip of tall grass at the side of the road. As Juniper rode close, he noticed a man lying on the ground beside him.
“Poor feller’s dead,” said Chuck. “Was a goddamn coward what shot ‘im.”
“This man didn’t have his gun drawn?” Juniper asked, spotting a rifle and revolver lying in the grass not far off from the stranger’s boots.
Chuck turned his head and spat a stream of chaw. “We knew there was too many of ‘em. Dobbs tossed his guns down right off. They got what they was after, weren’t no call to shoot ‘im.”
“Where’s Lily?” Reginald shouted, reining in beside the wagon.
“Reckon she’s still on the buckboard.”
“She’s not here!” He turned his horse in a full circle, his eyes wide with terror as he glanced up and down the mountainside.
Juniper looked back at Chuck. “You didn’t see them take her?”
“They had me facedown in the grass. I didn’t hear no mention of them finding her, so I figured she was still under the blanket.”
Juniper’s horse leaped back onto the road. Pulling his rifle from a scabbard at the side of his saddle, he fired off three shots, the blasts echoing across the mountain as he set off in the direction of the bandits.
“What was that for?” Reginald shouted, riding up beside him.
“To let them know I’m coming for ‘em. Wait here.”
“She’s my cousin! I’m going after her.”
He