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Cole’s entire being sagged on the inside. On the outside, he stood tall as he glanced down at Maddie, who’d grabbed his arm. Her eyes were wide and startled, and he wasn’t exactly sure how she’d want him to answer. Slowly, with intent, he let his gaze roam the crowd. He’d never seen so much hope in all his born days. Though some held anger and disbelief, most were hoping he and Maddie weren’t married, leaving a chance for one of them to gain her love.
He’d be damned if that would happen. “How would he know if we were married or not?”
“That’s what I said,” Jack replied, nodding.
“He says you stole her from Alan Ridge down in California, swept her aboard your uncle’s ship in the middle of the night and then brought her up here so no one would find the two of you,” Albert said.
“And you believe him?” Cole challenged.
“She’s not wearing a wedding ring,” Roman Carmichael said, as if that was proof.
“That don’t mean nothing,” Jack argued. “Sea captains marry people all the time, with or without rings.” Waving a hand at the group, he continued, “I’ve known Cole since he was born. His uncle, too. If he says he and Maddie are married, they’re married.”
All eyes landed on him while Roman asked, “Are you married or not?”
A shout from the river saved Cole from having to reply. A good thing, too, since he hadn’t come up with an answer. He reached back and pulled Maddie forward, tucking her to his side. He still had a head full of questions for her; though he might not be impressed with her answers, right now she needed his protection, and she’d have it.
Letting his glare cut a path, he walked through the men as they parted. He arrived at the shore the same time Truman and Sylvester rowed ashore, followed by a second boat filled with men dressed in black-and-red uniforms.
“Did you catch them?” Truman asked. “Those outlaws?”
“They’re here,” Cole said, gesturing to where Elwood and Butch were tied to a tree. “Ridge got away, but we have men chasing him down.”
A third man stepped out of Truman’s boat. “You most likely don’t remember me,” he said. “I’m Dr. Westphal. I saw to your injuries yesterday. Truman asked me to ride along in case others were hurt.”
“Ridge took a bullet,” Cole answered. “But everyone else is fine.”
The doctor retrieved a leather satchel from the boat. “How about you?”
“I’m good,” Cole said, watching the Mounties land their boat and begin to climb out. A fifth man, not wearing a uniform but a winter coat and wool pants, was the last to exit the boat.
“Mr. DuMont?” the man asked.
“Yes.”
“My name’s Curtis Wyman. I spent ten years as a sheriff in Wyoming. I’m a federal marshal now, tracking down an outlaw.” He nodded toward the uniformed men. “We’ve joined ranks. Outlaws from both Canada and the States think they can escape to Alaska. That may have been true at one time, but let me assure you, it’s not that way anymore.”
Maddie had shivered when the man had said his name, and Cole tucked her tighter to his side.
“From what I hear, the man you encountered may very well be the man I’ve been chasing for years,” Wyman said.
“Alan Ridge?” Cole asked.
Wyman nodded. “Also known as Mad Dog Rodriquez.”
“I just discovered that,” Cole said. The way Maddie trembled beneath his arm had Cole wondering if she’d go down at any moment. Half-afraid he wouldn’t be able to carry her with cracked ribs, he suggested, “Would you join us in our tent, Marshal? As I said, there’s a posse on Ridge’s trail right now.” Cole wanted answers and, just like the lawman, wanted Ridge caught. “Albert there can fill your men in on what happened here.”
* * *
Wyman agreed with a nod, and assigned men to stand guard over Elwood and Butch. He directed others to question Albert, before gesturing that he’d follow them toward the tent.
Cole kept one arm around Maddie and took her elbow with his other hand. He sensed her fear and her wish to stop shaking as hard as she was. His insides were quivering, too. The entire time they’d been up here, she’d been in danger. Ridge could have gotten to her a hundred times. Back in California, and Seattle, too.
Once inside, Cole encouraged Maddie to sit on the bed. “Have a seat—” He paused to admit, “I’m not sure if I should address you as a marshal or a constable.”
