Page 39 of Willing to Wed the Rancher
Franz hopped down from the ladder that led to the loft. If she hadn’t been so nervous, she might have appreciated seeing the sliver of skin at his waist as he lifted his shirt and slipped his gun back into the holster hidden underneath.
He picked his way through the wreckage to the door. When he ducked outside into the sunshine, he shielded his eyes with his hand and scanned the perimeter of the property as if he were hoping to catch a glimpse of the intruder.
Of course, nothing moved, not even the leaves. Everything was still and silent in the morning, as if nature were slumbering and would awaken later during the heat of the day.
Franz stepped off the stoop. “I will check the barn.” He started to lift his shirt again and reach for his gun.
“No, Franz.” She released Dieter and clasped Franz’s arm. “What if someone is there?” She shuddered to think that, just moments ago, she and Franz had stood in the barn discussing their marriage situation.
She wasn’t entirely sure if they were married or not. They hadn’t really come to a solid conclusion, had they?
Regardless, she didn’t want Franz to put himself in danger. She had only to think about how she’d found Eric in the field with a battered and bloody head to know that the peril was real.
Franz paused and glanced around again. “I will feel more secure if I make sure I have checked everywhere.”
She clung to him more tightly. “Please. Stay here with us.”
With a furrowed brow, his gaze came to rest on her. He seemed to be warring with what to do. “I should probably go into town and let the sheriff know about the attack. But I did not particularly like him yesterday.”
“My pa always said that Sheriff Shade keeps control but doesn’t always keep the law.”
“Your pa sounds like he was astute.”
“He was a good man.” Clarabelle swallowed the lump that sometimes still surfaced when she thought about losing her pa so abruptly.
“We could use a few good men to help us right about now.”
“I could go get Maverick.”
Franz was still peering around the farm cautiously.
“My brother Ryder has a ranch near Frisco. I could go after him too.” Both Maverick and Ryder would ride over and help her in a heartbeat. And so would Tanner if he were home. Or maybe Tanner wouldn’t come if he knew Ryder would be there. The two had been at odds over the winter and hadn’t been speaking to each other since then. She’d tried to talk to Tanner about it the last time he’d been around in May, but he’d refused to discuss it.
Franz released a long breath. “If only I knew what the murderer was after.”
Was it possible someone was searching for the safe—if that’s really what Eric had hidden? Or maybe the attacker was trying to find the key.
“Eric might have a safe hidden somewhere out here.”
“A safe?” Interest lit Franz’s eyes. “Tell me more.”
She relayed all she’d learned from the banker earlier in the morning about the key and the banker’s insinuation that the key might be for a safe. With the new knowledge, Franz plied the children for any memories they might have of their father purchasing a metal box, but neither could recall anything of the sort. The children also had no memories of their father digging a hole and burying anything.
They spent the rest of the morning cleaning the cabin and putting it back to order. After a light fare for lunch, Franz suggested searching the property. Clarabelle hesitated, notwanting to venture too far from the cabin. But she felt safer with Franz—and so did the children—so they followed after him, helping him look for any clues that might lead them to a hidden safe.
Of course, as with everything, Franz turned the search into an educational experience. And after some time of playing his witty games, she could sense the children relaxing and losing the fear that had plagued them since finding the cabin broken into.
Even so, all through the evening chores and supper, the children didn’t want to be alone. Franz stayed later than usual to help tuck them into bed, reading them story after story from one of the books he’d purchased in town, until finally he climbed down the ladder.
She rose from the sofa, where she’d been patching a hole in Dieter’s trouser legs. With the open style of the loft, she’d been able to listen to Franz reading while sewing and had enjoyed his renditions of the stories as much as the children.
“They are finally asleep,” he whispered as his feet touched the floor.
“Thank goodness.” At least for now, Bianca was asleep, but Clarabelle wouldn’t be surprised if the little girl woke up with more nightmares later.
“It’s gotten late.” Franz glanced at the windows. Though she’d pulled the curtains, the darkness outside penetrated the cabin, casting a gloom that even the bright lantern light couldn’t dispel.
She hoped no one was lurking in the nearby woods or field and watching the house again, but she shuddered at the prospect anyway and wrapped her arms across her middle.
