Texas Pride: Night Riders (5 page)

“I don’t know why Papa wanted to move to Texas.”

Carla had wondered the same thing. When she asked him, he said he was bored with Kentucky and Texas sounded like fun. “Did you want to leave Kentucky?” she asked Beth. “Your father didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“I couldn’t wait to get away from those awful people. They treated Papa like a traitor just because he didn’t fight the Yankees. How could he when we had the Union army all around us?”

Carla knew a lot of people were still angry about the war, but it was over, so it was time to stop fighting what couldn’t be changed.

“I found your lynchpin,” Ivan said to Beth when he returned. “But it is too worn. I will make a new one.”

“How can you do that?”

“With a knife and this piece of wood.”

Ivan went to his saddlebags and took out a small pouch from which he drew several tools. Both women watched with varying degrees of interest and confusion as he whittled, carved, and cut the branch until it looked like a duplicate of the worn lynchpin. After several trials, he slid it into the hole in the axle. He left one end of the lynchpin too large to go through the hole. “I will lift the buggy. If you ladies can roll the wheel to me, I will put in back on.” Then he reached down, grasped the buggy’s axle, and lifted it easily.

Beth was either unwilling to get her hands dirty or so impressed by Ivan’s strength that she couldn’t move. It was left for Carla to roll the wheel to Ivan. He fitted it on the axle. Once it was secure, he drove the new lynchpin into place with a small mallet he took from the pouch. Then using another tool, he split the small end of the lynchpin and inserted a metal wedge. “This will keep it from coming out,” he said to Beth. “You must have it repaired as soon as you get to town.”

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Beth said. “My father will pay you.”

“It was nothing,” Ivan insisted. “I will ride with you so the wheel will not come off again.”

Beth practically beamed. “I’d be very grateful. My father will be grateful, too.”

“I’ll ride ahead.” Carla hoped her voice didn’t betray her irritation.

“Please ride with me,” Beth begged. “I don’t know anybody in Overlin. This will give us a chance to get acquainted.”

Carla didn’t want to ride with Beth, but she couldn’t refuse without seeming rude. Besides, a girl Beth’s age shouldn’t be alone with any man, even one who seemed to be steeped in European gallantry.

“I just remembered,” Beth said with a gush of excitement. “You must be the Carla Papa told me about. Now you’ve
got
to ride with me. I want to know all about you.” She giggled. “Papa thinks you’re beautiful.”

Ivan had moved forward to help Carla dismount. “Of course he does,” he said to Beth. “That is obvious to anyone with eyes.”

Carla looked down at Ivan in surprise.

“Do you not know that you are beautiful?” he asked.

“It’s not something I think about,” Carla said, unsettled by his question.

“In Poland, every woman who is beautiful
knows
she is beautiful. In America they pretend not to know or to think it is not important. I do not understand American women.”

Beth giggled, a trait Carla was beginning to find annoying. “It’s not that American women are unaware of their looks. It’s just that it’s not considered good manners to be overly concerned about them.”

“That does not make sense. In Poland, a woman makes herself beautiful so she can marry the richest men. Why would you want to appear plain and marry someone with not much money?”

“In America, women prefer to marry the man they love.”

Ivan shook his head as though unable to understand such a point of view. “My friends all marry women they love. Most often they have no money.” Ivan flashed a grin. “We must start to town. I have much to do.” With that, he helped Carla dismount. He then followed her over to the buggy and helped her in. After that, he helped Beth to her seat. “Do not drive fast. I will watch the wheel.”

Beth took the reins and set her horse into a comfortable trot.

“When did you learn to drive?” Carla asked. “You do it very well.”

“Thank you. Papa taught me from before I can remember. He said after Mama died, I was all he had, so he wanted to keep me with him all the time.”

“That was sweet of him.” Something Carla would not have expected—not that she didn’t think Kesney was good-natured or thoughtful. She just never pictured him as the type to be interested in children, even his own, which just went to show how badly she could be mistaken when judging people she didn’t know. She supposed the same could be said of Ivan—he did have some odd notions—but she hoped he wasn’t going to be around long enough for her to know him better.

“Since Mama died, Papa has always said I was his one and only girl, but that changed when he moved to Overlin. He was eager for me to come to Texas so I could meet you.”

Carla had had dinner with Kesney a few times and visited his ranch, none of which was sufficient as far as she was concerned, for Kesney to bring his daughter all the way from Kentucky to meet her. “How long will you be visiting?”

“I’m not visiting,” Beth said with a trill of youthful laughter. “I’m going to live here with Papa.” She winked. “Maybe soon it won’t be just the two of us.”

Carla wondered if Kesney was more interested in her as a potential wife, future business partner, or as a stepmother for his daughter. Whatever the reason, she had given him no reason to think he had a monopoly on her affections. She’d also been to dinner with Maxwell Dodge several times.

“Your father is a very nice man. I’m sure many women would consider themselves lucky to be his wife.”

“Papa isn’t interested in
many
women. From what he says to me, I’d say he was interested in only one.”

Mercifully, Beth turned her attention to Ivan. With the artlessness of a girl not yet a woman, she didn’t hesitate to ask him questions Carla would have considered inappropriate, even rude. Before long Carla knew almost as much about the history of Poland as she did about Texas. From the description Ivan gave of his ancestral home, she could understand why he wanted to return. She couldn’t imagine living in a castle, but she could picture pastures knee-deep in grass stretching to the horizon. She could practically feel the cool breezes wafting down from tree-covered hillsides, but she couldn’t fathom riding in a sleigh through a snow-covered countryside. She’d never seen snow, yet was sure she wouldn’t like living in a country where you had to bundle up in furs to keep warm during the winter. As for fireplaces big enough to stand up in, well, that sounded wasteful and extravagant.

“It sounds wonderful,” Beth said to Ivan. “Almost like living in a fairy tale.”

“It can be wonderful if you have land and money. If you do not, it can be very hard.” His description of peasant life was appalling. No wonder so many people wanted to come to America.

“I’m glad Papa has money,” Beth said. “I wouldn’t like being a peasant.”

“You would never be a peasant,” Ivan said. “Some handsome young nobleman would be overwhelmed by your beauty. He wouldn’t care that your ancestors were not noble because he would see the nobility of your character.”

This man’s tongue was almost as dangerous as his smile. Beth was gazing at him like he was the most wonderful human ever created. Much more and she’d probably be so desperately in love with him, she’d die of a broken heart when her father refused to consider such a marriage.

“That definitely would be a fairy tale,” Carla commented in what she hoped was a cool, sanity-inspiring voice. “Very much like Cinderella marrying the Prince.”

“Don’t you believe fairy tales are possible?” Beth asked.

Considering that her parents had died unexpectedly and her brother had gambled away half their inheritance, she felt more like Little Red Riding Hood trying to escape the big, blond wolf riding next to the buggy. “It’s unwise to expect chance or luck to solve all our problems.”

“I heard a saying once,” Ivan chimed in. “Hope for the best but be prepared for the worst. Good advice, I think.” She had always hoped for the best but hadn’t been prepared for the worst. How could she have believed anything so terrible would happen? Her parents had always been so healthy, Danny excitable, but basically sensible. She felt more like the biblical Job than Cinderella. The conversation had gotten so unsettling she was relieved when Overlin came into view.

Overlin wasn’t much of a town. It was more like a collection of buildings huddled together for mutual protection in the middle of an unfriendly terrain. The scrub land came right up to the edge of town, even swallowing up some of the outlying houses. The buildings were of weather-beaten wood, the paint gone or peeling from half of them. During the heat of the day, the sun beat down on the streets turning the dirt to dry, choking dust and driving everyone to seek shade no matter how meager. Horses stood motionless except for tails swishing at flies, their heads down, eyes half closed. Dogs lay panting in the shade of buildings or under porches. Pigs rooted for cooler earth in streambeds or in the occasional wooded grove.

Yet despite the heat and the lack of water, the town was vibrant, the people energetic and hopeful. Neither the horrors of Reconstruction nor the raids of Mexican bandits could dampen their belief that Texas was the greatest state in the country and that Overlin was the best place to live.

“It has been a pleasure to meet you,” Carla said to Beth as soon as the young woman brought the buggy to a stop in front of the mercantile. “Please say hello to your father for me.”

“You’re not leaving.” Beth seemed genuinely upset.

“I have quite a few errands to run before supper.”

“But I don’t know anything about Overlin. I guess Ivan will have to show me around,” Beth said with what Carla could only characterize as a sly smile.

“I do not know Overlin either,” Ivan said. “I was depending on Miss Reece to show me where to buy what I need.”

Beth turned back to Carla. “You’re much too kind to desert both of us when we need you so much. Papa would be most grateful,” she added when Carla hesitated.

Carla was caught. What else could she do?

Carla didn’t know whether her brain was actual mush or if it just felt that way, but nothing about the morning had gone the way she wanted. Accompanying Ivan to town was bad, but shopping with Beth Hardin was worse. An hour spent with that young woman as she went through one store after another, rejecting everything she saw as inferior to what she was used to in Kentucky, turned the morning into a nightmare. Carla had never been so happy to see Kesney as when he showed up to collect his daughter. After using all her persuasive skills to refuse his invitation to continue shopping with them, she had felt obliged to promise to meet them for lunch.

As father and daughter walked away, Ivan turned to Carla and asked, “You do not like that young woman?”

He had postponed his own shopping to accompany her and Beth. Though she was reluctant to feel anything like approval for Ivan, her opinion of him had changed. He had proved remarkably adroit at finding ways to soften Beth’s criticism, earning warm looks of appreciation from several store clerks. Ivan was a lot cleverer than he wanted to appear.

“It’s not that. She says things that make me uncomfortable and that hurt other people’s feelings.”

“She is young and much indulged.”

“Probably, but she’ll have to change if she wants to be happy here. People here may not have much, but they have their pride.”

“Since you are so close to her papa, maybe you can help him teach her what she should say, what she should do.”

Carla didn’t know how it had come about that she was being forced to explain aspects of her personal life to a man she didn’t even know existed twenty-four hours before, and it made her angry.

“Despite what Beth thinks, I’m not on such terms with her father.”

“I believe it is not just Beth who thinks it. Mr. Hardin looked at you with a very special regard.”

Carla was becoming more uncomfortable by the minute, and not just because standing in the middle of the Overlin boardwalk was not a good place to have such a conversation. She didn’t want to have this conversation with Ivan at all. Determined to change the subject, she told Ivan, “I’ll go with you only because Beth made me promise, but I don’t have time to help you decide what to buy.”

“I only asked that you show me the best places to buy. I do not want to be overcharged.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Things I will need to live for a year by your creek.”

She didn’t know why she should keep feeling guilty. He was the one trying to steal her ranch. “Come on. I’ll take you to the general supply store.”

On entering the store, Carla had to pause a moment for her eyes to readjust from the bright sunlight of the street to the dim interior. While doing so, she inhaled the smell of new leather, cotton cloth, dried apples, and cinnamon that permeated the atmosphere. She always liked coming into this store because there was something earthy about the smell, something substantial. There was nothing frivolous here. People who came here were serious about life.

“There is a much bigger store in San Antonio,” Ivan said.

“Then I suggest you go back there,” Carla snapped.

Ivan flashed a wide-eyed innocent look. Carla would have to beware of that one. It was almost as dangerous as his smile.

“Is it not permitted to say what is true?”

“Sometimes it’s better to leave the truth unsaid.”

“I would never say such a thing to a clerk. I only say it to you because we are friends.”

“We’re not friends.” Carla regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. Ivan’s hurt look was more unsettling than either his smile or his look of innocence. “Look, it’s not that I dislike you. We don’t know each other well enough to be friends.”

Now he was giving her an earnest look, one that seemed so genuine it would be a sacrilege to distrust it.

“I am Danny’s friend, as he is mine. It would make me very happy if you were my friend, too.”

She had to get away from this man. He had come to Overlin planning to take her land and sell it, yet he had managed to make her feel guilty for not welcoming him with open arms. He was more dangerous than Beth and Kesney Hardin combined. Thankfully, Mr. Thompson, the owner of the store, came up to them just then. He was about fifty, gray, and of average height, but he was so thin he looked taller. Next to Ivan, he looked like an exclamation mark.

“Good morning, Miss Reece. What can I do for you?”

“Nothing today, Mr. Thompson. This is Ivan Nikolai. He wants to buy some supplies.”

“What do you need?” Mr. Thompson asked Ivan.

“A tent.”

“I don’t carry tents,” Mr. Thompson said. “We don’t need them here.”

“I will be living in a camp for the next year,” Ivan explained.

Mr. Thompson looked puzzled. “Why do you want to live in a camp? We have a hotel and two rooming houses in town.”

“I do not want to live in a camp, but Miss Reece says the house and the bunkhouse are on her half of the ranch. The corrals and the chicken pen, too.”

Mr. Thompson turned to Carla with an inquiring look that made her wish she could sink through the floor… but not before giving Ivan a painful punch in the mouth. She was positive he’d said that just to embarrass her.

“Mr. Nikolai is here to take possession of the half of our ranch Danny lost in the card game.” There was no need to say
which
card game. Everyone knew. “He knows I plan to dispute his claim as soon as the judge reaches Overlin. I suggested that he stay in town, but he insists upon staying at the ranch. Naturally I couldn’t let him stay in the house. Frankly, I saw no need to allow him to stay in the bunkhouse, either.”

Mr. Thompson turned to Ivan with a darkening expression, but Ivan’s earnest expression was in full force.

“I understand Miss Reece’s objection and would not think of causing her trouble,” he told Mr. Thompson, “but I do not have much money. I am happy to camp by the creek where I have water and my horse can find grass. Danny will show me around the ranch so I will not get lost or stray onto the land of Wilbur Joiner or Frank Bass who he fears would shoot me. That would much distress my mother in Poland. She has not seen me since ten years.”

That last was said with an expression of sadness that would have wrung the heart of a stone statue. In the space of fifteen seconds he’d changed her from a victim into a villain. Carla had never been prone to murderous rages, but she had the urge to strangle Ivan. She had watched the oily words out of his mouth melt Mr. Thompson’s indignation until the man was dripping with sympathy. Maybe she’d kill both of them—Ivan for being the greatest flimflam artist she’d ever known, and Mr. Thompson for being stupid enough to believe him. Thompson turned to her clearly expecting an explanation.

“What do you expect me to do, welcome into my home the man who’d come to steal my ranch?”

“He’s not the man who cheated Danny,” Mr. Thompson pointed out.

“He’s acting for him, so he might as well be.” At least Mr. Thompson believed Danny had been cheated.

“Maybe I do not need a tent,” Ivan said. “I can sleep under the bushes by the creek. It does not rain much here.”

They all knew there was no reason for Ivan to sleep under a bush, but she was ready to cry uncle. It was obvious he could wring sympathy out of any situation, no matter how ridiculous.

“I’ll ask around,” Mr. Thompson said. “There must be someone in Overlin with a tent they’d be willing to sell. If not, maybe I can locate one you can use until you can find one to buy.”

“Thank you,” Ivan said. “I have heard much about the kindness of Texans to strangers.”

Ivan flashed a smile which caused Mr. Thompson to smile right back at him. Carla was so annoyed she wanted to slap both of them.

“What else can I do for you?” Mr. Thompson asked Ivan.

“Food. I need something to eat.”

“I think you’ll find everything you need, even eggs and milk.” That last was accompanied by a disapproving glance in Carla’s direction. “If you want, I can arrange for a regular delivery to your campsite.”

Carla knew she wouldn’t be able to hold her tongue or her temper if she stayed a minute longer. She would never have thought of Mr. Thompson as a traitor, but he’d gone over to Ivan’s side without a fight. “I have a lot of errands to run,” she said to Mr. Thompson. “I’m sure I can trust you to take care of Ivan.”

“When will you go home?” Ivan asked. “I think you should not ride alone.”

“I’m not sure.” She didn’t want Ivan’s escort. She didn’t expect that several hours of trying to invalidate his claim was going to improve her disposition toward him.

“It does not matter. I will wait for you.”

Just what she needed, an oversized bundle of gallantry waiting on the street to escort her back to the ranch. That would have half the town imagining wedding bells before supper.

“That’s not necessary. I’m sure you have things to do.”

“I have nothing before I cook my supper and make my bed for the night.”

Okay, it was time to admit defeat. She’d been outmaneuvered because she’d underestimated Ivan, but that wouldn’t happen again. From now on she was going to fight dirty. She, too, had a killer smile. She just hadn’t used it much since her parents died.

***

“There’s nothing you can do about him being here until the judge arrives,” Lukey Gordon advised Carla. “I’m sure diViere cheated, but no one knows how he did it. Believe me, if any of the men knew, they would have said. Everybody hates that Danny lost his share of the ranch.”

“If everybody was so concerned, why didn’t they stop him from drinking?” Carla demanded. “You know Danny doesn’t drink.”

“None of us realized he didn’t drink because it went straight to his head.”

Danny was so embarrassed by his inability to drink without getting drunk on fumes that he preferred to tell people he didn’t drink at all.

“It was being told he didn’t look old enough to drink watered down beer, much less play cards with grown men that got to him,” Lukey said. “Danny hates that he still has a baby face. When he finally gets a few hairs on his upper lip, he’ll be the happiest boy in Overlin.”

Everybody said Danny was the best looking young man within a hundred miles. He could ride a horse or handle a rope as well as anybody, but even his friends teased him about being prettier than a girl. He’d been a lot less sensitive since his growth spurt had given him the body of a young man, but Carla could understand how needling by a man as sophisticated and worldly as diViere was reported to be would have made him feel like a little boy all over again. But understanding what happened, even being sympathetic for the reasons it happened, did nothing to change the facts.

“Until then, I can’t see that you have any choice but to put up with this fella,” Lukey told Carla. “If he gets to be a problem, you tell me, and I’ll have the sheriff on him in a jiffy. Nobody in Overlin is going to put up with some stranger hassling you.”

“You’ve met him, and you’re still sympathetic with me?”

“Who wouldn’t be?”

“Everybody else who’s met him. It’s like he puts a spell on people. In less than five minutes they’re ready to believe every word out of his mouth. Even Danny.”

“What did Danny do?”

“Fussed at me all through breakfast for not inviting Ivan to eat with us. He informed me he was going to show Ivan the ranch.”

“Did you invite him in?”

“No, but he corralled me into riding into town with him and taking him over to the general supply store. He converted Mr. Thompson almost as quickly as Beth Hardin.”

“Who’s Beth Hardin?”

Carla realized she’d been so upset over Ivan she’d forgotten the biggest news to hit Overlin in a while. Lukey was just as surprised as she that Kesney’s daughter was in Texas.

“Did he tell you she was coming?”

“No.”

“I wonder why. Everybody in town is expecting him to ask you to marry him.”

Carla knew people in Overlin knew nearly everything about everybody else, but she hadn’t realized they believed a proposal was imminent. “I’ve seen Maxwell Dodge almost as often as I’ve seen Kesney.”

“We’re expecting him to propose to you, too. They’re the two richest men in town, and you’re the prettiest woman.”

“Don’t let your wife hear you say that.”

“She’s the one who told me. You don’t think I keep up with this sort of thing, do you?”

Carla had to laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I once told my father life here was so dull I could go to sleep and wake up ten years later and nothing would have changed. Now I’ve got a charming stranger trying to steal my land and the sympathy of my friends. And if gossip is to be believed, two rich and handsome men are on the verge of proposing to me. Actually none of this is funny. I wish things were as quiet as they used to be.”

Lukey reached out to pat her hand. “Don’t lose heart. Things will work out.”

“Are you sure?” She knew he couldn’t be, but it was nice to hear.

“Just wait until the judge arrives. Now I’d love to spend the rest of the morning talking to you, but I have to earn a living.”

Carla got up. “I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time. Thanks for listening.”

“Anytime.”

Moments later Carla was on the boardwalk mentally organizing her morning. The first place she decided to go was the mercantile. She entered to find a group of women with their heads together in animated conversation. Except for the now infamous card game, it had been months since anything of interest happened in Overlin so she hurried over, eager to learn what occurred to generate so much excitement. “I can’t remember when I’ve seen you smile like this,” a matronly woman said to Myrtle Jenkins, a widow well known for her severity.

“I haven’t had reason until today,” Myrtle explained, her customary frown returning momentarily.

“What happened?” Carla asked. People usually avoided Myrtle because of her habit of remembering their every failure.

“I was having some difficulty with the latch on my gate.” Myrtle had gone to the considerable expense of fencing her yard to keep out ruffians and dangerous animals—children and their dogs. “A handsome young man with a charming accent asked me in the most polite way possible if he could be of assistance. You should have heard him say,
May
I
be
of
some
assistance, ma’am?
” Myrtle quivered with inner ecstasy. “I nearly melted on the spot. In two shakes of a lamb’s tail he had the latch working perfectly. He even explained to me how it got stuck and what to do if it happened again. And what do you think he did then?” she asked Carla.