Texas Pride: Night Riders (6 page)

“I don’t know.’

“He fixed the slats that the horrid Croker boy broke last month.”

“But he was a stranger, Myrtle,” one of the women said. “How do you know you can trust him?”

“I can tell a gentleman when I see one,” Myrtle said in a manner that suggested no one could doubt her judgment. “Besides, he was a foreigner and so handsome it was hard not to stare. I nearly had palpitations.”

Then she did something completely out of character. She giggled. Myrtle had been known to laugh only once when Hobie Jackman got so drunk he went to sleep with some dried cow manure as a pillow.

“Who is he?”

“Where did he come from?”

“What’s he doing here?”

“Is he staying?”

“Is he married?”

“He said his name was Ivan. I didn’t understand his last name. It’s something foreign. Naturally I didn’t ask him any personal questions,” Myrtle said in her usual superior manner. “I have better manners than that.”

The sinking feeling in Carla’s stomach hit bottom. Who would have believed Ivan could make a convert of Myrtle Jenkins, the most prickly, sour-tempered woman in Overlin? Not wanting to hear any more about Ivan’s wonderful qualities, Carla turned away to look for some material for a new dress.

“Don’t you want to hear what else happened?” Myrtle asked Carla.

Carla didn’t, but she turned back to Myrtle.

“He said if there was anything else I needed fixing, he’d be more than glad to see to it next time he was in town.” Myrtle practically swelled with pride. “He said it was a pleasure to know a lady such as myself lived in Overlin.”

“He sounds like a very nice man.” If Ivan thought Myrtle was a
pleasure
, he had a lot to learn. Carla started to turn back to the bolts of material stacked on a large table, but Myrtle wasn’t done.

“He said he knew you, that you took him to the general supply store.”

Myrtle was looking for information. If there was a hint of even the smallest snippet of gossip, she wouldn’t rest until she had ferreted it out.

“He asked where he could buy supplies,” Carla said. “We happened to be coming to town at the same time. That’s how we met Beth Hardin. Did you know Kesney’s daughter was here?”

Carla felt bad about pitching Kesney and his daughter into the gossip mill, but she didn’t want Myrtle asking more questions about her and Ivan until she could convince him to leave or at least move into town. Having thrown out Beth Hardin’s name, Carla was obliged to share what little information she had. Since she knew Beth planned to stay in Texas, she did her best to paint a favorable picture of the young woman. When she said she was going to meet Kesney and his daughter for lunch, the ladies rushed away after making plans to reassemble at the restaurant.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” the elderly clerk said to Carla as soon as the last woman left the store. “You might as well have loosed a hive of bees on the young woman.”

“I know, but Beth is a nice girl, and Kesney can hold his own with any woman. Well, maybe not Myrtle.”

“Apparently this Ivan fella did.”

Carla decided to come clean. “His name is Ivan Nikolai. He’s here to take over half of our ranch. I know everybody will find out before long, but I just couldn’t handle all the questions this morning. And if Myrtle had started lecturing me again on the evils of strong liquor and the inherent wickedness of boys, I don’t know that I could have held my tongue.”

“Is he anything like Myrtle thinks?”

“I never saw him until yesterday so I don’t know what he’s really like, but he is handsome and has a smile that will blind any woman regardless of age. You don’t need me to tell you he has more charm than a snake oil salesman. Any man who could give Myrtle palpitations has to be spilling over with it.”

The clerk laughed. “I would have given a day’s pay to see that.”

“Just keep your eyes open. He’s already charmed Danny, Beth Hardin, and Mr. Thompson.”

The clerk’s smile vanished. “But you don’t like him.”

“I wouldn’t like anybody who’s trying to take half my ranch.”

“I guess not. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll think of something. Now, could you help me pick out some material? I need a new dress for the dance.”

“Who are you going with?”

“Depends on who asks me.”

***

It hadn’t taken Ivan long to finish his business with Mr. Thompson. Promising to pick up his purchases when he was ready to leave, he set out to look over the town. There wasn’t a lot to see. It certainly didn’t compare to San Antonio, but he decided it was a nice little town, and he liked it. Everybody was friendly, especially the women. He wasn’t so self-effacing that he didn’t know his size, looks, and accent had a lot to do with that, but he also knew the value of a good first impression. People weren’t going to be pleased when they found out why he was in Overlin. He paused when he noticed a middle-aged woman struggling with the door to a store. One very vigorous pull resulted in the handle coming off in her hand. The woman looked upset and angry enough to cry. “Can I be of help, ma’am?”

The woman twisted around like she was afraid of being attacked. “Don’t come a step closer, or I’ll scream. People in this town don’t put up with anybody messing with their women.”

Ivan found it hard to believe any man would be foolish enough to attempt to
mess
with this woman, but he didn’t say so. He just kept smiling and broadened his accent a little. “I would never mistreat a lady. I was wondering if you could use some help with that door. It seems to be stuck.”

Maybe it was his smile. Maybe it was his accent. It might even have been that to look up at him the woman had to shade her eyes against the sun. It was probably because he was the only one who offered to help her. Whatever the reason, some of her anger and distrust faded to be replaced by a frustration born of helplessness. “Gordon has promised to fix the door a dozen times, but whenever I ask, he doesn’t have time or his tools aren’t handy. It’s really because he knows I don’t have the money to pay him.”

“If he will lend me his tools, I will be happy to fix the door for you.”

A look of surprised hope bloomed in her eyes. “You will?”

“Of course. A gentleman should never hesitate to help a lady.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “You’re not from around here.”

“No, ma’am. My name is Ivan Nikolai. I come from Poland.”

“I never met anybody from Poland before. How do I know you can fix my door?”

“Doors stick in Poland, too.”

That appeared to be all she needed to know. “I’m Sadie Lowell. Most folks call me Widow Lowell. I sell clothes and other fashionable items for ladies. I’ve got a customer coming by this morning who just about keeps me in business. I can’t ask her to come in the back door.”

“All I need is some tools.”

She eyed the doorknob in her hand, a look of determination taking hold. “Gordon can’t refuse to help me now.” Beckoning Ivan to follow, she headed down the boardwalk.

Ivan estimated the Widow Lowell was probably about fifty. She was short, rotund, and looked every year of her age. She appeared to be a woman who had been content to leave everything to her husband. Widowhood had forced her to become independent, a change she still found uncomfortable. She turned and entered the store Ivan had left only a short while ago. She marched straight to the back where Mr. Thompson was talking to a young woman with two little boys clinging to her skirts. Widow Lowell waited until the young woman finished her business and left with her little boys begging for sticks of candy they saw under glass at the front of the store.

“Gordon,” she said to Mr. Thompson, “this young man has offered to fix my door. He just needs to borrow your tools.”

“Sadie, I told you I’d—”

“You’re full of promises, Gordon, but you never keep them. I need help right now because I can’t get the door open.”

“I’d do it right now, but I can’t leave the store.”

“I don’t want you to leave your precious store. I
do
want you to lend your tools to this young man so he can fix my door.” She waved the doorknob at him. “This came off when I tried to open up.”

Mr. Thompson wasn’t happy with the widow, but he seemed to know he didn’t have much choice. He led Ivan to a room at the back of the building, which he used for nearly every part of the business of the store he didn’t want his customers to see. Boxes in the process of being unpacked vied with crates piled in corners and along walls. A desk was covered with a litter of paper. There was barely room to walk. They edged their way to a corner toward a large box of tools. “Sadie Lowell is a valued member of this community,” he said to Ivan. “You’d better be able to do what you say you can.”

“You are welcome to inspect my work.” Ivan wasn’t impressed by the condition of Mr. Thompson’s tools. Having selected what he needed and placed everything in an empty box, Ivan headed back toward the store. “I should have everything back within an hour.”

“How are you going to fix the door?” the widow asked as they walked back to her store.

“I will take the hinges off from inside,” Ivan explained. “Maybe all I need to do is shave a little of the edge.”

It was easy to remove the pins from the front door hinges. It was a lot harder to unstick the door from the frame, but he managed it after about ten minutes. “I will take it out back and shave it down a little.”

He attracted the attention of three boys who were playing in the space behind the store. They asked a steady stream of questions as he worked.

“You can come over to my house,” one boy said. “My ma says all the windows stick.”

“Do you know how to build a clubhouse?” another asked.

“Can you fix a broken wagon?” the third boy wanted to know.

“My pa says no man worth his salt rides in a wagon.”

“Your pa don’t have a busted leg.”

“He wouldn’t have a busted leg if he’d got out of the way of that steer.”

Ivan feared he was going to have to break up a fight, but the boys were diverted by the way the shavings curled as he planed the edge of the door. They collected each shaving and settled them over extended fingers.

“You going to make any more?” one boy asked when he stopped.

“No. I needed to take off just enough to keep the door from sticking.”

The boys followed him inside the store and watched intently as he replaced the door on its hinges then opened and closed it to demonstrate to the widow that it didn’t stick.

“Wait until I tell that useless Gordon Thompson it didn’t take you no time at all to fix that door,” the widow said. “And he was making out that it would take him half the day, going on about having to redo the frame because the building had settled, or it had been put up wrong.”

“My pa says Mr. Thompson talks a good story but don’t deliver much,” one of the boys remarked.

But the widow wasn’t about to have Mr. Thompson maligned. “You tell your pa nobody has to shove Gordon Thompson out of bed so he can get his work done. Now you boys go on. A lady’s dress store is no place for dirty brats.”

“We ain’t dirty. Our mamas make us take a bath every Sunday before we go to church.”

“That was five days ago. You’ve had time to collect lots of dirt since then.”

The boys sauntered away, then took off at a run once they were out of the store.

“Little ragamuffins,” the widow said in a way that made Ivan think she regretted having no children of her own. She turned. “I’m sorry I can’t pay you, but you come around to my house on Sunday, and I’ll feed you all you can eat.”

“That is not necessary,” Ivan protested.

“One way or the other, I pay my debts, especially to strangers. Now you’d better get those tools back to Gordon before he comes looking for them.”

Ivan was putting the tools back in the box when he heard the widow say, “You’ve got to meet the man who fixed my door. He even fixed the doorknob after it broke off in my hand.”

Ivan turned to see Carla glaring at him with eyes that were far from friendly.

Carla was in no mood to hear another tale about how wonderful Ivan was, but Sadie Lowell didn’t stop until she poured the whole story into Carla’s ears. And Ivan, the shameless wolf in sheep’s clothing, didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed. Carla wanted to protest that he was a thief, that he’d come to Overlin to take land he’d stolen. Her land. So she smiled through every word Sadie said though the smile felt like a mask that weighed a hundred pounds. Her teeth came together in a painful clench. Even the muscles in the back of her neck grew stiff.

“Miss Reece does not wish to hear stories about me,” Ivan said to Sadie. “I will return Mr. Thompson’s tools and let you ladies do your shopping.”

“Don’t forget Sunday,” Sadie said. “If you don’t show up, I’ll come after you.”

“I am sure you are a wonderful cook.”

Sadie blushed. “Not wonderful, but Mr. Lowell never pushed away from my table.”

“You must miss him very much.”

Sadie clutched her bosom and looked heartsick. “Every day.”

Carla thought she would gag. It wasn’t Ivan’s fault that he didn’t know a thing about Buddy Lowell, but she was surprised Sadie had the effrontery to act like that in front of anyone who’d known her husband. As far as Carla knew, Buddy had never hit Sadie, but he’d done just about everything else. Carla didn’t know what it was about Ivan that seemed to affect people’s brains so they ceased to function normally.

“Sadie Lowell,” Carla exclaimed the moment the door closed behind Ivan, “how can you tell such a whopper?”

The transformation in Sadie was immediate. She dropped her hand to her side and marched behind her counter before turning to face Carla. “There was no need for that young man to know the truth. I won’t have anybody feeling sorry for me.” She turned her attention to three dresses she’d set aside. “I think you’ll like one of these.” She held up a dress of pale blue cotton with white trim.

“It’s very pretty, but how about something with more color? Light blue looks faded on me.” She didn’t like a yellow dress or the gingham any better. She caught sight of a red dress lying across a table in the back room. “Why didn’t you bring out that one?”

Sadie’s face was a study in dismay. “I don’t… it didn’t seem… it never occurred to me… it’s not exactly…”

“What are you trying to say?”

Sadie seemed finally to gather her thoughts. “Don’t you think it’s a bit too bold for an unmarried lady?”

“I can’t tell until I see what it looks like on me.”

Sadie reluctantly handed the dress to Carla. It was a simple frock with a flared skirt. The neckline wasn’t low enough to be considered daring. If she wore a shawl to guard against the chill, she would be quite modestly dressed. She was holding it up in front of her and looking at herself in the mirror when the door opened and Ivan returned.

“That dress looks very nice on you,” he said. “You should buy it.”

The look in his eye said so much more. Carla felt the heat of embarrassment rise along the back of her neck. “I thought you went to Mr. Thompson’s?” It was all she could think to say.

“I came back to fix Mrs. Lowell’s back door. It is so loose it barely locks.”

“Bless your soul!” Sadie exclaimed. “I don’t know what kind Providence sent you to Overlin, but I hope you never leave. I’ve been worried sick about that door.”

“It is not hard to fix,” Ivan said. “All I have to do is put some shims behind the hinges.” He held up two thin pieces of wood for her inspection.

“Is that all it takes?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I could kill Gordon,” Sadie fumed. “He said there was nothing I could do but buy a new door. From him.” She harrumphed in a manner that didn’t bode well for Mr. Thompson. “You’ll have to come to lunch two Sundays,” Sadie said to Ivan. “Maybe three.”

“One is enough. Now I fix your door.”

Ivan disappeared through the back, and Sadie turned to Carla, a look of sheer adoration on her face. “That young man is an angel. I wonder if he has a place to stay. Do you think I should offer him a room?”

“You never saw him before today,” Carla exclaimed. “You don’t know what kind of person he might be.”

“I know all I need to know,” Sadie declared. “He doesn’t know me, but he’s done more for me in the last hour than anybody in this town has done in the last year. I’ll probably have to force him to eat more than a couple of mouthfuls. Poor boy. I wonder where he eats. Do you know anything about him?”

Carla was caught. She couldn’t say she didn’t know Ivan, but if she told Sadie the entire story, it would be all over town by the day’s end.

Carla was saved by the arrival of Myrtle Jenkins. Never one to wait her turn, Myrtle barged right in and proceeded to relate to Sadie everything she’d told Carla earlier that morning. Before long, both women were trying to outdo the other in praise of Ivan. Carla considered herself a Christian woman, but there were limits to what she could endure.

“I’ll take the red dress,” she told Sadie when the two women paused for breath.

Myrtle’s disapproval was obvious. “Why would you buy such a dress?”

“I want something new to wear to the dance.”

Myrtle’s frown deepened. “I don’t approve of dancing. It leads to lewd behavior.”

“Only if you want to behave lewdly,” Carla responded, “which I don’t and never have.”

“I wasn’t speaking of you, my dear,” Myrtle said with a grimace that was anything but endearing. “I was speaking of the men who would attend the dance. You know they all have only
one
thing
in
mind
.” Myrtle whispered the last words even though she had been married twice. Both husbands had been well thought of by the community; both had died young leaving Myrtle without the need to marry again.

“Danny is capable of providing all the protection I might need,” Carla said.

“He’s so young,” Myrtle said. “And there was that time when he got drunk and…” Myrtle let the sentence trail off, but Carla knew she was referring to the card game with Laveau diViere.

“I would be happy to provide Miss Reece with any protection she might need.”

Carla didn’t have to turn to know Ivan had reentered the shop. She didn’t even need to hear his voice. The transformation in Myrtle and Sadie was more than enough.

“I appreciate your offer,” Carla said to Ivan in what she hoped was an even voice. “But there’s no one in Overlin I need protecting from. And if I did,” she added when Sadie started to speak, “there are at least half a dozen men who would come to my aid.”

“I’m sure there are more than that.” Myrtle’s expression went sour when she turned to Carla. “But it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“What do you mean?”

“You should allow this young man to escort you. With
him
by your side, no one would dare to take liberties.”

“That’s a brilliant idea,” Sadie exclaimed.

“It might be if I didn’t already have a choice of escorts.”

Myrtle’s sour expression was back in full force. “If I had a daughter, I wouldn’t trust her with Kesney Hardin or Maxwell Dodge.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Sadie asked.

“They’re outsiders,” Myrtle said. “I never trust people when I don’t know where they came from.”

“You don’t know Ivan,” Carla pointed out.

“He comes from Poland,” Myrtle said. “I once spent a week in a town of Polish immigrants. They were good people. I’m sure Ivan is just as nice.”

“I will escort Miss Reece from the ranch to the dance and back,” Ivan told Myrtle. “I am staying at her ranch, so that will cause me no trouble.”

Looking surprised as well as affronted that Carla should have kept such an interesting piece of information from them, both women turned to Carla. “What does he mean?” Myrtle demanded.

Carla couldn’t think of a thing to say.

“I am talking with Miss Reece and her brother about a business proposition,” Ivan said. “We have told no one but you kind ladies. It would be appreciated if you would not speak of it until we come to some agreement.”

“Certainly not,” Sadie said. “I wouldn’t think of it.”

“You certainly would think of it,” Myrtle contradicted, “but you won’t
do
it, will you?”

Sadie drew herself up. “I said I wouldn’t.”

“Everybody knows you’re a hopeless gossip,” Myrtle said.

“I feel certain Mrs. Lowell is a woman of her word,” Ivan said.

Myrtle looked skeptical, but she didn’t correct Ivan.

“I need to be going,” Carla said, eager to get away from Myrtle’s crushing disapproval.

“It won’t take a minute to wrap up your dress.” Sadie took the dress and disappeared into the back room.

Carla watched in amazement as Ivan talked Myrtle out of her attitude of stern disapproval to a humor that could pass for that of a doting grandparent. Carla needed to tell Danny to pay close attention to Ivan so he could learn his secret.

Sadie came back with a bundle wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. “Here’s your dress. I hope you have a good time at the dance.”

“You make sure you stay close to her,” Myrtle said to Ivan. “No telling what will happen if she wears that dress.”

“She will be as safe as if you were watching her yourself.”

The image of Myrtle Jenkins scowling her way around a country dance wasn’t something Carla was eager to picture. She’d have pretty much the same effect on everybody’s spirits as an unexpected cloudburst.

“I’m sure she will be,” Myrtle said to Ivan. “It’s very good of you to offer to watch out for her. I don’t trust those two men she seems to favor.”

Carla had had it with Myrtle and her candid opinions. Having paid Sadie for the dress, she accepted the bundle and turned for the door.

“Let me carry that for you,” Ivan offered.

She wanted to refuse, but she could tell from their expressions that doing so wouldn’t sit well with Myrtle or Sadie. She handed the bundle to Ivan, said good-bye to the two women, and fled the shop. Ivan caught up with her a little later.

“You will
not
escort me to the dance,” she said, her gaze straight ahead. “I
will
choose who I go to the dance with.”

“Of course,” Ivan said. “I only offered to ride with you to keep you company.”

Carla stopped and turned on Ivan. “That’s not what you told Myrtle.”

“What would you want me to tell her? That you are a stubborn woman who refuses to obey the law? That you will not even let me enter your home? That you would throw me off your land if you could? That you ignore every effort I make to be friendly?”

Carla practically sputtered with indignation. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“You have no idea how much I would dare. I am not a coward, but you would be the one to suffer. I am a gentleman. I would not treat any woman that way.”

Carla swallowed her exasperation, though it didn’t go down easily. It was hard to remember Ivan hadn’t created the mess she was in. Laveau diViere and her brother were the culprits. But Laveau wasn’t here, and she loved her brother even if she wanted to strangle him from time to time. Ivan was the only one on whom she could vent her wrath. It was even more difficult to hold her tongue when he charmed women who’d been critical of her since her parents died.

“I know I’m not treating you fairly, but I can’t help it. And seeing you oozing charm just makes it harder.”

He remained silent.

“I’ve spent my whole life on that ranch. My parents died on that ranch. It’s everything I know, holds everything I love. I know what Danny did was stupid, but I can’t just hand over my inheritance.” Carla struggled to hold back tears. She was stronger than this. If only Ivan wasn’t so nice. The look on his face was genuinely sympathetic. “It’s only worse when everyone in town takes your side.”

“So you think I should not fix the widow’s doors?”

“It’s not that. I—”

“Then I should not fix Miss Myrtle’s gate?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Should I tell her I will not escort you even though we will be coming to town at the same time?”

“You know what I’m talking about!” She hadn’t meant to raise her voice enough to attract attention. “Now see what you’ve made me do?”

“I merely asked what you would have me do. Why should that make you angry?”

He looked so genuine, so truly concerned, she wanted to tell him to stop acting, to save it for sentimental widows like Sadie. “I don’t want you following me around,” she said from between clenched teeth. “I don’t want you offering to escort me to town. And I don’t want you carrying a package that’s so light I’d hardly notice I was carrying it.”

“I’m not carrying it for you. I’m carrying it because that’s what Miss Myrtle wanted.”

Ivan’s response almost took her breath away. She didn’t think she was vain, but no man had ever said anything like that to her. “You shouldn’t let people take advantage of your kindness.” It didn’t seem like the right thing to say, but it was all she could think of.

“I see no reason to withhold kindness when it costs so little.”

He hadn’t been constantly criticized by Myrtle Jenkins. His judgment hadn’t been questioned just as often by Sadie Lowell. He wasn’t a young woman trying to be taken seriously in a town controlled by men. He’d never been told not to worry his pretty head about anything as serious as the best kind of rope to use for lassos. But that didn’t change the fact that Ivan was right. She let out a big sigh. “I just can’t seem to hold my temper around you. That card game changed everything.”

“Maybe you can buy the ranch back.”

“I don’t have that much money.”

“Maybe you will marry one of those rich men, and he will buy it for you.”

Carla glanced up so quickly, she nearly ran into a boy weaving his way through traffic at a run. Ivan pulled her aside just in time to avoid impact. She momentarily lost her balance and fell into his chest. His arm came around her waist to steady her. And in a flash, Carla knew she’d never felt a connection like this with Kesney or Maxwell. With that one touch, she suddenly felt… safe.

Before she could think on it any further, Ivan pulled away, leaving her oddly bereft. While she wasn’t one to allow liberties, Carla hadn’t reached the age of nineteen without having been embraced more than once. She’d even allowed a small number of chaste kisses, yet none of them had affected her as strongly as Ivan’s touch. Even after he’d stepped back, she felt as if his hands were still on her, like he’d left an invisible handprint on her skin, like he was saying she belonged to him.