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Dallas nodded.
“They were hung in Laramie last week.”
Dallas’s head snapped up. “When was the trial? Why wasn’t I notified?”
“No need.” The sheriff pulled out his gun and opened the barrel, checked it, and then snapped it closed. “There were plenty of witnesses. It was an open-and-shut case.”
Dallas nodded as Charles’s looked on in concern.
“Just be careful.” Sheriff Clark shoved his gun back into the holster strapped to his leg, nodding toward the men. “They may hold you responsible… since it was your bank they robbed, and you admitted to killing one of their brothers.”
“Thanks, sheriff.” Dallas lowered his voice. “You be careful, too. You don’t want those men to find out about your children and go after them.”
A crease formed between Daxton’s eyes. “I told the children not to come into town alone until after the gang leaves.” He nodded toward the men sitting across the street. One got upand stretched, said something to the other, and then shoved his hands into his pockets and walked inside. “They don’t know about my children, and I want to keep it that way. Hell! Every decent person in this town is staying away from Whiskey River now, probably for the same reason.”
“Just be careful,” Dallas repeated, sure that if they even went near his children, the sheriff would kill them on the spot. Everyone else in the town would do the same when they got wind of it. “By the way, Megan wanted me to ask you over for Thanksgiving. Would you and the children like to come? Colton and Ella, and Wyatt and Madison are coming, too.”
The sheriff smiled. “Yes, I’d like that. I’m sure Lillian will be happy that she doesn’t have to cook,” he teased. Lillian was his young daughter. Evidently, she had taken over the cooking since their mother left. “What would you like us to bring?”
Dallas shook his head. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
The sheriff chuckled. “Well, I don’t think that’ll be acceptable to my daughter. She wouldn’t want to come empty handed… not since she’s been learning how to cook.”
“Well then, anything she’d like to bring will be wonderful.” Dallas clasped his hand on the sheriff’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Dallas and Charles walked with the sheriff outside. “You want us to ride with you to your place? Make sure you get home okay?”
The sheriff shook his head. “No, I’ll be fine. You two go on home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As they headed toward the livery stable, Dallas wondered why the men were still in town… and what they were up to. He just hoped that they didn’t try to go after Megan.
Chapter 12
Megan
Over the next few weeks, Megan found herself getting tired a lot more lately and she had no idea why. Perhaps she was getting a bit too used to the life of leisure, but it was hardly that. She found her days filled with running the house tiresome, especially over the last few weeks preparing for Thanksgiving. Because she never had a Thanksgiving meal before, she entrusted the menu to Jacques, much to his delight. Everything sounded delicious. The only thing she requested was that he serve traditional Thanksgiving fare, and he graciously agreed.
Mrs. Daly and Megan took care of the decorations. Megan kept it low key in comparison to the party that Dallas had thrown. She was worried about having enough room for everyone to sit together at the dining room table, but Mrs. Daly told her that it was a drop-leaf table and assured her that there would be plenty of room. She had Milo and Butch–two of Dallas's men–bring down the two wooden inserts that belonged to the table. Once installed, the table filled the room, stretching from one side to the other, and there was still enough room to serve.
Thanksgiving Day, Megan dressed in a burgundy gown, not too flashy. Although she had loved her dress for the party, she noticed that she had been severely overdressed compared to the other ladies in attendance. This time, she didn’t want to makethe same mistake. Also, this would be a much more intimate setting and more casual.
Once she was dressed, she descended the stairs and Dallas was waiting at the bottom, wearing his light gray suit with a dark gray vest, setting off his blue eyes. “You look lovely, dear.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips, never taking his eyes off hers. “But are you sure you don’t want to dress up a bit more?”
Megan shook her head. “No, today is about making friends, not about flaunting wealth.” Megan smiled. “Although money helps, it’s not what ‘tis important today.”
Dallas smiled as he tucked her hand into his arm. “You’re right.”
“Dallas, people will like ye fer who ye are, if ye let them, and not fer what you can do for them or give them.”
Dallas lifted an eyebrow. “Including you?”
A crease formed between her eyes. “What do ye mean? Ye take very good care of me, yer business, the house, and the people who work fer ye.” She slid her arm around his waist. “Ye don’t have to keep showering me with gifts and fine things.”
One corner of his lips lifted into a smile. “But what if I want to?”
She returned the smile. “Well then, that’s different… but in moderation. We need to start saving fer rainy days.”
Megan knew, perhaps more than anyone, the importance of saving money. You never know when you might need it. One catastrophe could send someone on a downward spiral. And if you didn’t have friends when that happened, God help you because no one else would.
Dallas nodded. “Yes, you’re right. Believe it or not, I have some money saved, but I’ll start saving more.”
