Determined: Western Historical Romance (Lipstick and Lead series Book 5) Read online

  “I’m right behind you,” Jackson said, turning toward his room. He couldn’t wait to sleep in his own bed for the first time in weeks.

  “Reverend, a word with you please,” Margaret said.

  Her voice was commanding, and he halted and faced the retired school teacher, like a naughty boy. She waited until Hannah had shut the bedroom door before she walked to him. “That girl needs our help. She’s angry, and well, I just feel so badly for her. We need to do everything we can to assist her.”

  “I’m trying, Margaret. Time is going to be the best healer. That and helping her put her past behind her. But until we capture her stepfather, there is no moving forward.”

  The woman nodded. “I can’t blame her for feeling angry. She had a nice family. She’s lost so much.”

  Jackson hadn’t known Hannah’s mother, but learning her family had lived here for years had opened his eyes. And that fact made him even more ashamed of how his congregation had treated her, but he’d soon deal with them.

  “Yes, she has,” he said, wondering where this conversation was headed.

  Margaret placed her hand on her chest. “I’m here as long as you need me, Reverend, but you know, one way to win acceptance for her and to help that girl would be for you to marry Hannah.”

  Jackson had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing out loud. Marry Hannah?

  “She needs a husband. And you’re just the man who could help her start her life over. I know you want a family. She needs a family. I think it’s the perfect solution.”

  If only Margaret would keep her mouth shut and not bring up ideas that were floating in Jackson’s brain already. He didn’t want to think about it right now. “Margaret, I appreciate the thought you’re putting into helping Hannah, but she may not want to get married. Right now, I think she pretty much hates all men.”

  She shook her head. “Hannah wants you to believe she hates all men. And that’s why you would be perfect for her. You could help her overcome that fear. Learn to love again,” she said, growing more enthusiastic about the subject. “I’m going to get to work on planning something that would show her you are courting her.”

  Oh no, he liked Hannah, he really did. Probably way more than he’d anticipated, but to actively court her was not something he was ready to do.

  He shook his head. “Right now may not be the best time. Let’s wait until after the town is cleaned up.”

  Margaret was off and running with her idea whether he wanted Hannah or not, not listening to a word he was saying, and while the idea made him nervous, he wasn’t completely immune to the idea of Hannah becoming his wife.

  “We could hold a dance or a barbeque. I think I’m going to start taking her with me to the ladies’ church functions. You know our teas. I mean after all, if you married her, she’d be our pastor’s wife.”

  Somehow the idea of Hannah as a pastor’s wife struck him as funny, and he could no longer contain his laughter. “Margaret, I like Hannah. I think she’s suffered a lot, but to make her my wife…” He let the thought resonate through him.

  It wasn’t a bad idea, but still, he wasn’t ready to consider that possibility. “I’m not prepared to take that leap just yet. Right now, I pray we all live through the night then get through the next few days. Don’t plan a wedding when I’m not certain about asking for the girl's hand. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.”

  She placed her hands on her hips. “Now, Jackson, I see the way you look at that young woman. You need a wife, and she needs a husband.”

  “True, but I’m not ready to commit to anything,” he said. “Good night, Margaret.” He turned and walked out of the room.

  Hannah was beautiful. She had a sweet spirit that had almost been destroyed. She needed time to heal. She needed the chance to be a young woman who found joy in living once again.

  And he wasn’t certain he could heal her need to maim and kill the people who had harmed her.

  *

  The next morning, after telling Margaret and Hannah to stay at the house and to keep their weapons handy, Jackson walked across the street to the church. He needed to look at the paperwork on his desk, see what letters he’d received, and began next Sunday’s lesson plan. He had things to do with his church, besides cleaning up the town.

  He’d been working for almost an hour, when he heard the door to the church open. He opened his desk drawer for easy access to the gun he’d placed there. While he hoped the good Lord kept him safe while he was in church, he had added a little firepower just in case the need arose.

  The sheriff walked into his office. “Good morning, Reverend.”

  “Good morning,” he said, leaving the drawer open. He didn’t trust the man, and while he didn’t believe the sheriff would shoot him here in the church, he wasn’t taking any risks.

  “How can I help you?” Jackson said, not standing or inviting the other man to sit. Frankly, he wanted the sheriff to leave as soon as possible. He didn’t know why he was here. They didn’t have much in common, so he could walk out the door right this moment, and Jackson wouldn’t be upset.

  The man sprawled his large body in the chair on the other side of Jackson’s desk. “I heard you were back in town and just wanted to come by and say hello.”

  “Funny, I was going to come see you later this afternoon. Seems someone threw a welcome back rock through the window of my home with a message. They want me to leave town.”

  A belly laugh exploded from the sheriff. “Who would want you to leave our fair city?”

  Jackson knew the sheriff was making fun of him, but he didn’t care. When you were the only law in town, it was justice for all. But in Hide Town, that didn’t exist.

  “The first two who come to mind are you and the madam.”

  The man’s brows raised. “Me? I think our town needs a preacher. You know someone to bury troublemakers. Send them on their final journey from this world to the next. Some people in town need the good book, but know their place in our community. You need to learn your place if you want to continue living here.”

  The warning was subtle but there nonetheless. But Jackson was tired of veiled warnings and threats and needed the sheriff to understand that yes, there would be a change but not his kind of change.

  “What about preachers who are tired of seeing good, honest, hard-working people abused and want to end the violence in their town? Clean up the streets and make things right?”

  “You mean troublemakers,” he said. “Troublemakers are not allowed in this town. They receive one, maybe two warnings, and the third time, they need you, Reverend,” he said, his dark eyes fierce.

  Jackson sat back in his chair, raised his head, and met the man’s stare. The warning was obvious, but he didn’t care. He was no longer going to live with what he saw. Before, he’d been willing to turn his head. He’d been new to town; he had been learning how things worked, but now knowledge was power.

  “You know, this town has lived with bad influences for many years. I understand people just let things slide. They had family members that were wanted by the law, and they knew they could live here and wouldn’t be bothered. But when Mrs. Hutchins took over the town, things changed. When women are forced into working in her bordello, there’s a problem. A problem that can no longer be ignored,” Jackson said, gazing at the sheriff.

  The man’s face was starting to turn red like he was getting angry that Jackson was being frank with him.

  “And just what are you, the Reverend, going to do about it? It’s not like you’re fast with a gun. I’m still the sheriff in this town.”

  With a laugh, Jackson smiled at him. “No, but I have the power of the people behind me. They know about Melissa. They know about Hannah, but do they know about you, Sheriff? Do they realize you and Mrs. Hutchins work together? Do they realize she’s paying Elliott to bring in young women? Do they know he’s wanted for murder of his first wife and now his second wife has died mysteriously? I think not. But they soon will.”

>   The man’s eyes grew large and darkened. His face was stony, and Jackson knew if he hadn’t been the sheriff’s enemy before, he certainly was now. But he didn’t care. The time for this ruthless man to end his tyrannical hold on the town was now.

  “What are you going to do? Talk me into a jail cell? From my side of the desk, you’re sounding like a troublemaker. And you know what I do with people who cause problems in town.”

  Jackson smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “No, I’m going to turn the people on you. From the pulpit, I’m going to form an army to clean up this town. There’s nothing like religious people with a reason to seek justice.”

  “Preacher man, you may think you’ve got this all figured out, but don’t be so sure. There’s still five days between now and Sunday. A lot can happen in that time.”

  A trickle of warning spiraled down Jackson’s spine. This man was dangerous, and he could harm a lot of people in his church. Innocents who just wanted to see justice done.

  “That’s why my congregation has already started. They’re forming a first line of defense now. We’re not waiting for Sunday to get here. We’re already at work.”

  The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. “When people start getting killed, I’m going to blame all of this on you, preacher man.”

  “You do that, Sheriff. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got things to do. Clean up your act, Sheriff, or suffer the consequences.”

  “I’m not worried.” The sheriff stood. Kicking his chair out of his way, he walked to the entrance of the church. “You’re a troublemaker, preacher. Your days are numbered.”

  *

  Hannah knew Jackson had told her to stay in the house, but she couldn’t. She needed to get out, to show the people in town and herself she was really seriously doing something to avenge her name and find her mother’s killer.

  With the wanted poster in her hand, she walked to the sheriff’s office. Most people’s eyes widened when they saw her. Some people from church nervously nodded their heads in greeting but didn’t say anything. Everyone hurried past her. She felt like the woman with a scarlet letter on her dress.

  Holding her head high, she walked right up to the sheriff’s office. A faded poster that looked like it had been hanging there since the office was built still hung on the wall, but nothing new. Obviously, no one wanted to know who was wanted in this town and who was not.

  Pulling some nails from her pocket and the small hammer, she unfurled the paper and begin to hammer it into the wall. A crowd of people formed behind her to see what she was putting up.

  “Who’s that?” someone in the crowd asked.

  A gasp came from the front. “That’s Elliott Potter. Oh my God, he killed his first wife? And Mary Williams died in the brothel.”

  Hannah turned around. “She was murdered as well. And I plan on proving it.”

  “He’s here in our town. Any decent woman could be in danger.”

  “Elliott’s a threat to society. He kidnaps young girls and sells them into prostitution. I don’t have the wanted poster on that just yet, but there are two charges filed against him, including mine.”

  Hopefully Zach would send them the wanted poster as soon as it arrived. Maybe he’d even bring it to them, though she doubted he would leave Meg’s side until their baby was born. She couldn’t blame him for being with his wife when their firstborn came into the world.

  “Why hasn’t the law arrested him?” a man called.

  “Ask the sheriff,” Hannah said, watching as the lawman walked up the street.

  The crowd was on him, yelling, asking questions.

  He held up his hand. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m hanging a wanted poster of Elliott Potter. He’s wanted for the murder of his first wife and also for questioning with regards to the death of my mother.” Uneasiness raced up Hannah’s spine, as she faced the worst sheriff she’d ever met, one who didn’t believe in upholding the law or the Constitution. He was a sham who worked for the madam.

  “Your mother was a whore just like you.”

  The urge to reach for her gun was overwhelming, but she knew that would only hurt herself, not the sheriff. “My mother was a genteel lady who Elliott stole from. Then he sold me into prostitution, and I aim to get restitution.”

  “That’s a fancy word coming from a girl who makes her living on her back.”

  His words were meant to be vulgar, to make her feel cheap, and it worked. But she refused to let him see just how much they hurt.

  “I wasn’t a whore until you turned your back on their unlawful activities, forcing me into prostitution. But now I’m a bounty hunter.” She lifted her head, stiffening her spine, determined to no longer accept bad treatment from anyone—male, female, or even a whole congregation of so-called churchgoing people. No one had the right to make her feel bad about herself any longer.

  Hannah would no longer be a victim. If she was going to die, she’d go down guns blazing and fighting every step of the way.

  “I’m not here to try to convince young women to stay home and not make a living as a soiled dove. You chose the profession.”

  “I will collect on Elliott. You can tell him I’m here searching for him, and when I find him, he’s wanted dead or alive.”

  The sheriff frowned. “I think you still owe Mrs. Hutchins money. I should haul you back down there to work it off.”

  Jackson came up behind her. “Discussion over. She’s not working for Mrs. Hutchins again. And we will be arresting Elliott once we find him. It’s your duty as sheriff to uphold the law. This will be your opportunity to show us if you’re truly a lawman or just a vigilante.”

  Jackson took hold of Hannah’s arm. “Good day, Sheriff.”

  With a grip on her elbow, he walked them away from the gathering crowd. When they were a far enough distance that no one could hear them, he said in the strongest tone of voice she’d ever heard him use. “What were you thinking? Do you want to get forced back into working for the madam? Do you want to be killed?”

  “No. I just couldn’t sit in that house another minute, not doing something to change things. I had to get out. Besides, I’m used to working alone. I don’t need you.”

  She’d never seen Jackson angry before, but his face was red, and his eyes were wide, shooting imaginary daggers.

  “Honey,” he said sarcastically, drawing the word out. “Everyone needs somebody. I know you think you’re tough and strong and you can take this on by yourself, but you can’t. You need some help. I need some help.”

  “I’m a trained bounty hunter. I can do this job.”

  “And I’m a preacher, and I still need help. It’s not bad to need other people.”

  She turned to face him, tears welling up in her eyes, all the anger she’d held back rushing at her like a giant bolder crashing down a hill. “I needed people’s help when they sold me, but no one came to my rescue. I can’t depend on other people to help me when I need them.”

  He stopped in the street and turned her to face him. “It must be painful knowing no one rescued you. You must be so angry at people. At God. You must hate all of us, and I can’t blame you. We did you wrong.”

  His words opened a floodgate, and tears streamed down her cheeks. She hung her head and tried to hide her weakness from him, hide the rage that consumed her.

  “I’m sorry, Hannah. People were blinded by the charm of your stepfather, by the hold the madam and the sheriff had on the town. I can’t explain why God didn’t send someone to your rescue. Sometimes I don’t know his will. I don’t understand why bad things happen, but I’m here, Hannah. And I know without a shadow of a doubt that God loves all of us. If he can love a sinner like me, I know he loves you as well.”

  She shook her head. “No. No. No. God deserted me in my darkest hour. I don’t think he’s out there. I know you believe, preacher man, but I don’t.”

  Wiping her tears, she hurried down the street without him. She had to get away. She couldn’t continue staying wi
th Jackson. He made her feel things she never wanted to feel, and she couldn’t accept his belief about God.

  She just couldn’t. No longer would she play the victim for any man. Not even Jackson.

  Chapter Nine

  Jackson watched as Hannah strode with determined steps down the street toward his home. He’d learned long ago not to push someone too fast. It was best that he give her some time to think about the things they’d discussed. In the meantime, he feared that after this morning’s meeting with the sheriff, things could escalate very quickly.

  And if the sheriff’s vigilante justice came, they’d want to silence Jackson and Hannah. Scare the people then normal lawless life in Hide Town could resume. But what could Jackson do to protect them, besides ride out of town?

  A letter to the Texas Rangers was way too slow, unless he sent a rider.

  He followed Hannah at a more unhurried pace, giving the woman time to calm down. When he stepped up on the porch of his little house, he heard women’s voices. A shiver of alarm trickled down his spine. And he knew…the women from church.

  Opening the door, he saw Margaret, Sarah Wright, and Beatrice Smith, but Hannah was nowhere in sight. These women were the nosiest busybodies in his congregation, and he knew what this unplanned visit meant. They were checking on him and making certain Margaret was doing her job as chaperone.

  “Ladies,” he said, strolling into the house. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

  Oh, he knew with confidence they were confirming that Hannah was sleeping in her room and Margaret was keeping a close eye on the two of them. They wanted to make certain there was no hanky-panky going on in the preacher’s house.

  “Reverend, we just wanted to be assured you were settled in, and you have everything you need,” Sarah said with a grin like she was offering him her daughter on a platter. He was surprised the young lady wasn’t here today.

  “I brought you a pie,” Beatrice said, smiling at him. “I thought you might be hungry after your terrible ordeal.”