lifted a hand. Summer took it,
letting him lead her down the steps and across the dirt.
Stephanie, as well as the other two men followed. When
George stopped in the shade of a large cottonwood, the rest
gathered around.
"What you need to talk to her about?" Stephanie asked,
placing an arm around Summer's shoulders.
"I'm afraid we have some news," George said, removing
his hat.
"What is it, Mr. Hinkle?" Summer asked. A thousand
thoughts raced through her mind. Snake had never made it to
Dodge. Had never been able to claim the win. Were they here
to take her and the children back, give September to
Wainwright? Her throat burned. She wouldn't let it happen.
Couldn't let it happen.
"I'm afraid Miss A—" George paused when Stephanie
cleared her throat and then continued, "Mrs. Quinter, that
your father, July Austin, was found dead earlier this week."
Her legs went weak, would have collapsed beneath her if
Sheriff Sughrue hadn't stepped forward and took her elbow. It
was news she'd known would someday be delivered, but still,
like a wagon wheel one knew would eventually let loose, it
shocked her beyond belief now that it had happened.
A thump sounded behind her. "Here set her down."
She glanced over her shoulder. Malcolm Turley had set a
bucket upside down and gestured to Sheriff Sughrue to let
her rest on it. The sheriff on one side and Stephanie on the
33
Guardian Bride
by Lauri Robinson
other eased her until she sat on the bucket. It wobbled as her
weight settled.
Summer lowered her head, squeezing her temples with
one hand. "What happened?" she asked.
George crouched down in front of her. The man had always
been nice to her, especially over the last couple of years when
she took to cleaning at the Long Branch. He'd watched out for
her, kept an eye out as she made her way home after work.
His wife was the school teacher, and Summer had no doubt
the couple knew the hard life August and September had. It
was bad enough to have the town drunk as your father, but a
half-breed for an older sister caused many more problems for
the children.
"He was shot," George said sympathetically. "Most likely
by the same men that shot Snake. The card game was never
settled. Snake never made it to Dodge."
"I know," she said, nodding. "It was Wainwright, wasn't
it?"
"We think so," Pat Sughrue said.
"I told them you didn't see who shot Snake," Malcolm
Turley offered.
Sheriff Turley had questioned her after she brought Snake
home. Summer covered her face with both hands, attempting
to rid the images of Snake's blood encrusted body. She'd
been afraid he was dead by the time she'd led his big horse
into the yard. Terrified the men would catch up to them, she'd
barely covered his wounds before she'd forced their mounts
to the limits racing back toward Stephanie's house. When
Jonas had assured no one followed, she'd slowed their pace,
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Guardian Bride
by Lauri Robinson
but never once had she allowed the animals to completely
stop until they'd arrived at the barn late that night.
"You didn't see anything?" George asked.
She took a breath and wiped at her eyes and nose before
lifting her face. "They were too far away. All I saw were two
men on horseback. I couldn't even make out the color of their
animals."
"No one's seen hide or hair of Wainwright. We're assuming
he headed back down to Texas, but we can't be sure," Sheriff
Sughrue said.
"What's going to happen now? Do I need to go back to
Dodge to bury—" Choking on her words, she couldn't
continue.
"No, that's already been taken care of," George said.
Thankful she didn't have to attend to the task, she realized
something else. "The undertaker will want money."
"July had some, enough to bury him." Sheriff Sughrue then
asked, "Is there anything at the house you need, want? The
landlord wants to rent it to someone else."
"No. No, I took everything the children need when we left."
George patted her shoulder. "You're safe