Sterling tried to stick to his resolve. Once he was home, he kept busy. But he couldn’t lock his thoughts of her away. They refused to be contained. By mid-afternoon, he explained the situation to Beckett and sent him into town to find out who Claude was. Sterling had wanted to go himself but knew he’d only raise suspicions if he went to town twice in one day.
Beckett was all too willing to go since he was expecting a letter from his mail-order bride.
All the while the ranch foreman was gone, Sterling’s mind wouldn’t rest, and his worry over Violet wouldn’t go away, especially as the clouds blew in and snow began to fall.
When Beckett finally returned in the late afternoon, Sterling met him in the ranch yard, which was covered in at least an inch of fresh snow, with flakes still falling fast and the sky growing steadily darker.
“Is she home yet?” Sterling didn’t waste time with a greeting.
“Hello to you too.” Beckett removed his hat and thumped it against his leg to dislodge the snow. Then he slapped it back on and gave Sterling a stern look. “Yep, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
Sterling didn’t care if Beckett was assuming he still cared about Violet. He supposed it did look like he was obsessed with her today. But he was only doing what any God-fearing and kindhearted man would do. He was helping the less fortunate.
“Did you find her?” Sterling persisted.
“No one’s seen a hair of Violet or her sister all day.”
“What about Claude?” Sterling fired off the question. “Who’s he?”
“He owns the Red Cap Saloon.”
Sterling had never heard of it. Then again, he didn’t go to town often and had lost count of all the new saloons that had opened over the past couple of years. “What else?”
“Apparently, he’s got a big place with several gaming rooms at the back of his saloon.”
“And he has dance girls?”
Beckett’s expression hardened. “He’s got just about any kind of woman you could want, if you get my meaning.”
Sterling silently cursed. He didn’t want Violet or Hyacinth anywhere near such a place.
“Heard this Claude’s a nice fellow until he gets crossed. Then he gets meaner than a bobcat in a gunny sack.”
That wasn’t good news for Mr. Berkley. But the fellow would have to work things out with Claude without involving Violet and Hyacinth. That’s all there was to it.
Still in his saddle and covered in snow, Beckett opened the flap of his saddlebag. He pulled out a package wrapped in brown paper and tossed it to Sterling.
Sterling caught it.
“From Clementine.” Beckett nudged his horse toward the barn. “She said it’s your favorite.”
Sterling sniffed the bundle, catching a whiff of the rich scent of chocolate and pecans with caramel.
Clementine was the little sister of his best friend Maverick Oakley. She’d just married the livery owner, Grady Worth, and had opened her own candy shop.
“Said you might need some cheering up.”
“Why?”
Beckett snorted. “Reckon everyone thinks you’re going crazy now that Violet’s back in town.”
“I’m fine.” He ground out the words.
“Course you’re not going crazy,” Beckett called over his shoulder with an eye roll. “Not at all.”
Sterling huffed, the white puff mingling with large snowflakes. Okay, maybe he was going slightly crazy.
He crossed through the fresh snow to the house to put the candy away. Was he also hoping Violet would be back?
