Malachi reached for another nail from the glass jar at his feet, but it was empty. A growl rumbled in the back of his throat as the pressure built inside him. Not enough nails. Not enough guns. Not enough information to uncover the infiltrator. He’d come up short. Again. Just as he had this morning.
He’d had the shooter in his sights. And he’d missed. Mal spun around and kicked at the pile of burned scraps he’d torn from the wall. The charred wood splintered and cracked, but it didn’t satisfy. Nothing could satisfy. Emma and the aunts were still in danger because he’d missed.
“You done toe-clobberin’ that scrap heap, or should I sit back and enjoy more of the show?”
Malachi spun around, a geyser of heat erupting beneath his collar. “Mrs. Cooper! Ah . . .” He rubbed the too-warm spot on his neck. “I didn’t expect to see you out here.”
She raised a brow at him. “Why not? I told you me and Helen were taking the first watch at nightfall.” Her gaze lifted meaningfully to the sky, and only then did Mal realize how little light remained. The sun must have set a good twenty minutes ago. “Night done fell, pardner.”
Mal heard the laughter behind her tone and smiled sheepishly. “Seems so. Guess I was too absorbed in my work to notice.”
“Mmm-hmmm.” Betty stepped closer, her eyes suddenly serious. “Listen, Shaw. I don’t care if you pummel those boards into toothpicks or grind them to sawdust. But some females around here won’t understand that you’re just working off steam. No, if they see you stomping around and kicking things, all they’ll see is a temper out of control.”
Helen. Malachi jerked his head up, looking for the timid woman. Had he scared her off?
“Don’t worry. She ain’t here.” Betty pointed her shotgun toward the boardinghouse. “I sent her to fetch that ancient revolver Miss Daisy offered. Thing’s as old as dirt, and we don’t have any proper ammunition for it, but I figured it would be good for Helen to get used to holding a weapon. I can give her some pointers on aiming the thing while we pass the time. Then when the new guns arrive, she’ll be more prepared.”
“Good idea.” And since Helen was still on Emma’s list of suspects, he felt a bit better knowing she wouldn’t have a loaded weapon tonight. Of course, pairing her with Betty was a boon, too. Not much got past the plain-spoken woman. “Who’s set to relieve you?”
“We got the eight to midnight shift, then Grace and Maybelle have the watch until four. Figured we needed gals who owned weapons on duty the first couple nights before Tori’s shipment comes in.”
“Miss Mallory’s tiny pistol won’t serve much purpose up in the steeple,” Mal said with a frown.
“That’s why I’m leaving my shotgun with her. But I’ve warned the ladies not to shoot at shadows. We’re here to watch and report, not start a gunfight. The last thing we need is for some nervous female to get spooked when something moves and end up hitting one of our own.”
“Agreed.” A bit of the tension that had coiled in Mal’s shoulders dissipated. “Everyone knows where to find me, right?”
Betty frowned as if not altogether pleased with his presumption that he’d be the one they ran to if trouble erupted. “I told ’em if they spot something suspicious, they’re to alert Emma at the station house.” Her eyes narrowed on him. “You might be the hired gun, Shaw, but Emma’s still the one callin’ the shots around here. We report to her, not you. If she wants to bring you in, that’s fine, but we aren’t lettin’ you take the place over just because you think you know best. We don’t need a man to do our thinkin’ for us. Got that?”
Mal was in no mood for the woman’s hardheaded feminism. “Save your sermonizing for a day when two masked bandits haven’t just shot up your town.” He straightened to his full height and took a step toward her.
She didn’t back up, but he hadn’t expected her to. He just needed to make it clear that he wasn’t going to let her or any of the women castrate him when he was the only one standing between them and a pair of gun-happy outlaws.
“I have no interest in running this town,” Mal emphasized each word, praying they’d somehow penetrate the woman’s stubborn hide and sink into her brain. “Emma is far better qualified for that role than I will ever be. But right now, your enemies have the skill, the training, and the weapons that you lack. I’m your best chance at evening those odds.”