“Sure, but a bandana only hides the face, not the belly, and Fischer is rather well-endowed in that area.”
Mal chuckled. Couldn’t argue with that. The angry shopkeeper he’d tangled with back in Seymour had certainly had a hefty gut. And ego. He seemed more the type to bluster and growl than to coldly plan an elaborate subversion.
“Also . . .” Emma pointed her pen in Mal’s direction, never one to let an advantage go unpressed. “Maybelle told us that she asked Claire to deliver Daisy’s medication to the boardinghouse. Claire didn’t volunteer to run the errand. She’d been busy washing their supper dishes at the time. So it was pure happenstance that Claire was the first one to discover the fire.”
Turning around to face Emma fully, Mal reached behind him to find the windowsill and leaned back to use the edge of it like a seat. “I agree that she’s not the most likely candidate, but her appearance right before the fire is too coincidental to completely ignore. I say we keep her on the list.”
“Fine.” Emma turned in her chair to face him, letting out a heavy sigh as she did so. “You know, this whole mess would be much easier to deal with if I just knew what the outlaw wanted. He obviously needs us gone for a reason, and I don’t think it’s simply because he feels threatened by a group of women living successfully on their own. He wants something here in Harper’s Station. It’s the only logical explanation for his persistence. But what is he after?”
“Is there anything special about the land itself?” Mal asked. “Water rights? Valuable mineral deposits? Any ore assays done by a previous owner?”
Emma shook her head, the toe of her shoe thumping the floor in a soft, staccato rhythm. “Not that I recall. The Wichita River flows along the northwest border of the property, but I don’t own proprietary rights to it. I don’t know of any ore or minerals that would be of particular value. We could check the county assay office to see if any claims have been filed for something in the surrounding area to be sure, but this is farm and ranch country, not mining country. And if what he wanted was the land, why not just approach me with an offer to buy?”
“Maybe he can’t afford to pay full price. Maybe he’s hoping that if he scares you and the others away, you’ll be eager to make a deal so you can make a fresh start somewhere else.” Mal crossed his arms over his chest and braced the heels of his boots out in front of him.
“But why does he want this land so badly?” Emma laid down her pen and pushed to her feet. “There is other property for sale nearby, undeveloped, but cheaper, if that is what he needs.”
Apparently it was her turn to pace. He smiled until he realized her direction. Directly toward him. Leaving him trapped against the window. If he jumped to his feet and moved away, he’d offend her for sure. Willing his body to remain still even though every muscle tensed at her approach, he forced himself to continue breathing at a steady rate.
In. Out.
She came alongside him, close enough to touch if he unlaced his arms. Malachi immediately tightened his hold on his ribs.
In. Out. In . . .
Drat! He could smell her. Or the lilac bath salts she’d washed in last night. The smell had lingered in the small room off the kitchen when he’d finally taken his turn in the tub. He’d never washed so fast in his life, needing to get away from thoughts of Emma in a tub of scented water, wearing absolutely noth—
Malachi jerked away from the window. And Emma. “I need to go.”
Emma’s forehead crinkled. “Go? Go where?”
Where, indeed. He didn’t have a clue. Away was at the top of the list. He could figure out the rest later. He didn’t slow down to discuss possibilities, just made a beeline for the door.
“Did you think of something?”
He could hear the soft click of her footsteps. Following. His pulse flickered. His stride stretched.
Yet her question sparked an idea just as he reached the doorway. He grabbed the jamb with one hand and glanced back. “I’m going to wire the county land office. See if they have any assay records on file.”
“Do you want me to co—?”
“Nope.” Heaven save him. That was the last thing he wanted. Okay, it was actually the first thing he wanted. Wanted it so bad it made him ache. Which was exactly why he needed to get away.
But as he pivoted to make his escape, he saw her face fall. Saw the hurt in her eyes. It was the same look she’d worn the day he left ten years ago. A look that haunted him still. “I’ll catch up with you in the old café building after lunch, all right?” he promised. “For the town meeting.”
Her lips curved upward in a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Sure.” She nodded to him. “I’ll just stay here and write up a few more notes while things are fresh on my mind.”
Feeling like a heel but not trusting himself enough to stay, Mal slapped his palm against the doorjamb, fingered his hat brim in a show of respect, and turned tail and ran.
Right into an ambush.