Chapter Eighteen
“DID HE GIVE HIS NAME?” Matthew asked as he and Sophia made their way to the mercantile.
“No, he left before she could ask.” Sophia looked up at Mathew. “You don’t think it could be him?”
Matthew pushed his lips together, thinking.Could be, of course. But likely? “I doubt it is. Even if Mrs. Gardiner’s description matches, she could be describing any number of men. And don’t you think he would have come around asking for you by now?”
The worry still sat in Sophia’s eyes, though.
“How about if I speak to the marshal, just in case,” he suggested.
That seemed to ease Sophia’s mind. She nodded. “At least this is a small town. If he’s here, he can’t hide for long.”
Matthew laughed. “That’s true. I still suspect that man was merely a troublemaker, passing through. I imagine he’s already headed out of town, on his way to try to rob a bank somewhere else.”
“Do you suppose that was what he was trying to do?” Sophia’s eyes were as round as the full moon.
“It seems the most likely.” He gripped her elbow as they stepped over the railroad tracks, just as the train’s whistle sounded from a distance. “Look.” He pointed down the tracks toward the north.
Sophia lifted a hand to shade her eyes. “I really ought to have spent the money to come by train.”
“But then you never would have met me.” Matthew gave her a smile as they finished crossing the road and stepped up onto the board sidewalk.
“Oh, that is true.” She studied his face a moment. “Hmm . . . travel with the comfort of a seat and make the journey in a fraction of the time, or take a dusty wagon to be kidnapped by outlaws and rescued by a handsome man . . .” She put a finger to her lips as if she were considering the options.
“That’s the second time you’ve told me I’m handsome.” He grinned at her.
“Well . . .” Her face went pink.
“I don’t see a contest there at all. I believe I win, solely on my good looks.” He bit the inside of his cheek as he began walking toward the mercantile, her arm safely ensconced around his.
“Why, Matthew Canton, I never pegged you as a pompous sort of man.” Her voice was light and teasing, and he thought he’d do anything to keep her from thinking of Mr. Durham ever again.
“Then I suppose you still have a lot to learn.” He adjusted a nonexistent monocle and puffed out his chest as if he thought himself the king of Crest Stone, Colorado.
Her laugh rang like bells, and Matthew couldn’t keep the smile from his face.
