Everson was a handsome man in a polished sort of way, wearing a tailored suit beneath his badge, his silverplated revolvers gleaming in the morning sun. He had always made Catherine uncomfortable, even before Thomas died. Stay here,” Catherine whispered to Jeremiah, her protective instincts flaring up.
She didn’t want the mountain man dragged into her mess. She stepped out onto the porch. “Sheriff Everson dismounted, a patronizing smile playing on his lips.” “Morning, Morning, Catherine,” Everson said, tipping his hat.
“I heard a disturbing rumor this morning at the barber shop. Folks are saying you were keeping company with that wild, savage Stone at the church last night.” Mr. Stone sat where there was an empty seat.
Sheriff, Catherine said, crossing her arms to ward off the chill. That is all. Everson’s eyes narrowed as he noticed the freshly chopped wood and the hanging deer.
He stepped closer, resting his hand casually on the butt of his revolver. Catherine, you’re in a precarious position in this town. Your husband robbed these good people blind.
Mayor Finch and I have been trying to keep the mob off your back, but if you start associating with violent vagrants. Well, I might not be able to protect you. I don’t need your protection, Wade, Catherine snapped, surprising herself with her venom.
Oh, but you do, Everson said softly, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. You owe this town a debt. A debt I could easily call in.
I suggest you tell your new savage friend to pack his traps and head back up the mountain today. He doesn’t take orders from me.” A deep voice rumbled. Sheriff Everson spun around.
Jeremiah stood in the doorway of the cabin, a tin cup of coffee in his massive hand. He wasn’t armed, at least not visibly, but his posture was that of a coiled spring. Everson’s face flushed with anger and sudden barely concealed fear.
Stone, you’re trespassing, am I? Jeremiah took a slow sip of the scalding coffee. Mrs.
Higgins invited me in. Seems to me you’re the one standing in her yard without an invitation. This is county business.
Everson sneered, taking a step backward toward his horse. We don’t want your kind in orray stone. Trade your furs and get out.
I’ll leave when my business is done,” Jeremiah [clears throat] replied, his eyes locking onto the sheriffs. “And my business here just got a whole lot more interesting.” Everson mounted his horse hastily, yanking the res. “You’re making a mistake, Catherine,” he spat before kicking his horse and galloping back toward town.
Catherine leaned against the wooden post of the porch, her knees shaking. You shouldn’t have done that. He is the law here.
He will find a way to arrest you, or worse. Jeremiah walked out onto the porch, setting the empty coffee cup on the rail. He looked down the road where the dust from the sheriff’s horse was still settling.
