The Texan's Bride by Geralyn Dawson Read Free Book Online

low, deliberate voice, “I’ve learned that if Hoss Garrett wants me to do this job, he’d best stop sending you to check up on me.”
    Bell calmly swept an imaginary speck of dust from his well-tailored coat. “Your father wishes for a simple status report. That should not be too much to ask.”
    “Don’t call him that! Around me he’s Hoss Garrett!”
    Branch swiped up the deck of cards and shuffled them, his movements abrupt and angry. His voice snapped as he added, “But I guess if Hoss wants a report, I’d best give you one. I like you too much, William, to send you back to 0l’ Split-foot empty-handed.”
    Bell thumped his tankard against the tabletop. “That is enough.”
    Ignoring Bell’s outburst, Branch continued. “Here it is, short and sweet.” He slapped the card deck onto the table. “That envelope you gave me when I signed Hoss’s contract contained more than just the anonymous note sent to Riverrun informing the family of Rob’s death. There was a packet of letters my brother had written to Eleanor and Hoss. In one of them he wrote that the principal players in the counterfeit scheme met regularly at a tavern outside of Nacogdoches run by an Irishman and his daughter. It was easy enough to determine that Gallagher’s was the place. I’ve been spending all my time”—he stopped and looked again at Katie—”well, almost all of it, buying drinks and playing cards with every visitor to the tavern.”
    He paused and took a sip of his ale. “You know, if nothing else, I’ve proved I can hold my liquor with the best of ’em.”
    Bell sighed impatiently. “But what have you learned?”
    “Most of the men who come in here are members of an organization they call the Moderators. From what I can figure, it’s a vigilante group formed to oppose another bunch of rabble-rousers who call themselves the Regulators. Actually, Will, it seems to stop something just short of an all-out war. Last August, Sam Houston sent in a militia and rounded up the leaders, forcing them to sign a treaty of peace. All that did was send the brawling underground. Now nobody really knows who’s fighting who.”
    He briefly considered the story he’d heard the previous evening about a Moderator who’d been bound to a log and whipped to death. “It’s been a bloody little feud, this Regulator-Moderator thing. Neither side is all good or all bad; it’s basically the old-time settlers against the newcomers. I’m fairly certain, though, that an inner circle of one of the two gangs is the source of the counterfeit land scrip. The problem is finding out just which group.”
    He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. His voice grated as he said, “So you can trot yourself back to Riverrun and tell the old bastard that I’m hard at work on the case. I’m sure he’ll have his doubts, considering it’s me he has doing his huntin’ for him. But at least he ought to have confidence that I can finish the job once I find Rob’s murderer. After all, I am a killer.”
    William Bell’s face flushed as red as his vest. He slammed his fist against the table. “Boy, I bounced you on my knee when you were young, and I have always defended you to your father. Don’t spout such stupid things to me. Your fath—” He stopped as Branch shot him an icy look. “Hoss Garrett is offering you a chance, Branch, to grab what you’ve always wanted. I know how you feel about Riverrun. And Eleanor is a widow now; she’s as beautiful as ever. Don’t allow false pride to get in the way of your heart’s desire.”
    “I’ve had little luck with my desires of late.” Branch’s gaze went unerringly to Katie. Eleanor Garrett wasn’t the only beautiful widow in the Republic of Texas. “Buy me another drink, William, a real one this time.”
    He glanced toward Katie, who had dropped all pretense of ignoring the whispered conversation taking place at the table in front of the fire. “Sprite,” he called, “as