Texas Pride: Night Riders (8 page)

“Better him than Laveau diViere,” Danny said.

“Better no one at all.” Carla refrained from saying that neither would have been there if Danny hadn’t been so foolish. They’d been over that ground too often to warrant plowing it again. She dropped her package on the kitchen table, pulled out a chair, sat down, and allowed Danny to help her take off her boots.

“He could have sent someone worse.”

Carla sighed. “I’m sure he could, but they’d be doing the same thing.”

“At least he’s not trying to push his way in here. I suppose he could rightfully claim half the house. Half the bunkhouse, half the wagons, half the horses, half the—”

“I get your point.” Carla stood, picked up her boots, and set them near the back door. She reached for the shoes she wore indoors. “You should talk to Myrtle Jackson.”

“Why?”

“Because she adores Ivan as much as you do.”

“I don’t adore… Myrtle doesn’t adore anybody, and she hates strangers.”

Carla put on her shoes and stood. “She doesn’t hate Ivan. To hear her talk, he’s the most wonderful man she’s ever met. Sadie is nearly as bad.” Carla wasn’t pleased when Danny broke out laughing. “You wouldn’t think it was so funny if you’d been in my shoes this morning.”

“What did he do to pull the wool over that old dragon’s eyes?”

“He fixed the latch on Myrtle’s fence then replaced some missing slats. After that he fixed both doors on Sadie’s shop.”

“There’s nothing special about that.”

“Maybe not, but no other man in town has done it. And he did it with a smile that would blind the sun.”

Danny laughed even harder. “If this weren’t all my fault, I’d shake his hand in welcome.” Danny followed his sister out of the kitchen and down the hall toward her bedroom. “Why hasn’t he worked his magic on you? You’re not nearly so hard to please as Myrtle or Sadie.”

“I’m not as easily taken in by a smile and a good deed. But I did promise Lukey I’d work with him, include him in all decisions concerning the ranch.” She shrugged out of the light wrapper she wore to keep the dust off when she went to town. “But he’s from Poland and was trained as an engineer. What can he know about ranches? I’m depending on you to back me up if he wants to do something crazy.”

“He doesn’t strike me as a man to do anything foolish. First he got Sadie and Myrtle singing his praises. Now he has Kesney inviting him to dinner and his daughter teaching him to dance. “

Carla turned so Danny could unbutton the back of her dress before she changed back into her ranch clothes. “Do you think he’s underhanded?”

“I’m sure he’s as nice as he seems, but I think he’s a lot smarter than either of us suspected. All of those things might have been coincidence, but he saw them as opportunities to do something nice for someone else. I’m afraid people are going to think badly of you for making him camp out.”

“They already do. Beth even asked her father if he could stay with them until he found a place to stay.”

Danny burst out laughing. That irritated Carla at first, but then she saw the humor. “You should have seen Kesney’s eyes. I give him credit for remarkable control, but he was definitely startled.” She stepped out of her dress, laid it across the bed, and picked up the skirt and blouse she wore around the house.

“What’s his daughter like? Is she pretty?” Danny picked up his sister’s discarded dress and hung it in the wardrobe. “Why don’t you and I put our heads together? You marry Kesney, and I’ll marry his daughter. He’ll buy back my half of the ranch for you. It won’t do for his daughter to be married to a poor man, so he’ll find a nice job for me.”

They both laughed. “That might work for me, but I think Beth has her sights set on Ivan.”

“How old is his daughter?”

“She can’t be a day more than sixteen.”

“She’s too young for Ivan, but just right for me.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. I’m sure Kesney won’t allow his daughter to throw herself away on a penniless cowboy, not even one who’s an ex-Polish prince. You’ll be on your own for supper tonight. Try not to burn anything when you heat it up.”

***

“They dance well together, don’t they?”

“Yes, they do.” Kesney stood next to the piano most of the evening. He said he needed to be there so he could turn the pages, but he ended up making Carla feel like they were an older couple chaperoning the youngsters. Since she was probably ten years younger than Ivan, she resented being made to feel old.

“Ivan is a quick learner.”

Carla had a feeling Ivan knew more about dancing than Beth, that he allowed her to believe she was the teacher and he the student. Beth—young and inexperienced despite her veneer of sophistication—didn’t appear to realize that Ivan was leading and she was following. She beamed with happiness and pride.

“You’re marvelous,” she told Ivan for what had to be the twentieth time. “I’ve never known anyone to learn to dance so quickly and so well.”

“We have dances in Poland,” Ivan said.

“Your dances can’t be anything like ours,” Beth insisted. “Everybody is always so proper.”

“Not all the time.”

Ivan accompanied that statement with one of his blinding smiles, which appeared to send Beth’s mind reeling. That only made Carla more annoyed. What was he doing? She was certain Kesney would never consider allowing Beth to marry anyone like Ivan, but he seemed as captivated by Ivan as his daughter. What was wrong with everybody? Ivan was just a man. Okay, he was tall and muscled, handsome, and spoke with a charming accent. He had wonderful manners and a smile that should be outlawed. But he was still just a man, and one without money. Americans didn’t put much value on titles or position in society. They wanted land, livestock, and cash. She didn’t see how being a prince back in Poland could compensate for that.

Watching Kesney beam at his daughter as she danced in Ivan’s arms, Carla wondered why she couldn’t see what everybody else saw. Even Lukey, her staunchest ally, had thawed considerably toward Ivan. Was there something wrong with her?

Whatever it might be, it didn’t stop her from being attracted to him. Contrary to local opinion, she didn’t consider herself an old maid at nineteen. She was independent and the owner to half a ranch. She didn’t feel that her chances for marriage were passing her by, not with the two wealthiest bachelors in town paying court to her. Setting all that aside, no sensible young woman would let herself become enamored of a penniless stranger who numbered traitors among his friends and who was planning to return to Poland as soon as possible.

A horribly wrong chord wrenched her out of her abstraction. “Sorry,” she said to Beth, who looked at her in shock and Ivan who regarded her with an inscrutable raised eyebrow. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“That’s because you’re tired,” Kesney said. “I blame myself for letting Beth keep you tied to the piano for so long. That’s enough dancing for tonight.”

“But I haven’t taught Ivan all the dances,” Beth objected.

“He seems to need very little teaching,” Kesney said. “I expect all he has to do is watch a dance one time, and he’ll have it.”

“He is a marvelous dancer,” Beth said.

“Thank you,” Ivan said. “My dancing master would be pleased to hear you say that.”

“You had a dance master? Of all the tricks,” Beth exclaimed. “And I thought you couldn’t dance at all.”

“I exaggerate a little,” Ivan admitted. “I learned from my mother who learned from
her
mother who did have a dance master. By the time I was born, we could no longer afford such luxuries. It was thought best to spend what little money I had on education.”

“A wise decision,” Kesney said. “It will stand you in good stead.”

“So far I have only had a chance to use it to install indoor plumbing for my friend’s wife.”

“I would like to hear more about that when we have time,” Kesney said, “but I think it’s time I escort Carla home.”

“That is not necessary,” Ivan said. “I can make sure she arrives safely.”

Kesney stiffened perceptibly. “It’s a long ride, it’s getting dark, and she hardly knows you.”

“I’ll be perfectly safe with Ivan,” Carla said.

“I would not allow anything to happen to you,” Ivan declared. “To do so would bring dishonor to me and my family.”

“Is that because you are a prince?” Beth asked.

“I am a prince no longer. It is because of my honor as a gentleman.”

Beth’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I didn’t think you could stop being a prince. Aren’t you born one?”

“Only in Poland,” Ivan said, “but I am not in Poland.”

“But if you go back, will you be a prince again?”

“Yes, but I will not be a rich prince, so the title will not be important.”

Carla wasn’t surprised to find Poland was like the rest of the world. Ivan must love his country a great deal to face going back without being able to take his former place in society.

“I need to be going,” she said to Kesney. “Danny will expect breakfast at the same time even if I get to bed late.” She could tell Kesney was unhappy, but it was ridiculous to worry when he was unconcerned that Ivan had been her only protection on the ride to his ranch. Kesney accompanied them to the door and waited for her outside while one of the hands brought her buggy around. Ivan insisted upon fetching his own horse.

“Are you certain you will be safe?” Kesney asked again.

“Of course she will,” Beth assured her father. “Ivan is a wonderful dancer.”

Carla had no idea what dancing had to do with a man’s character, but she was too tired to ask. “If you want a character reference for Ivan, ask Myrtle Jenkins or Sadie Lowell. Or three grubby little boys he’s invited to visit my ranch whenever the notion strikes them.”

She almost laughed at Kesney’s confusion. Once she explained, they both laughed, which upset Beth.

“I think Ivan’s wonderful,” she declared. “You shouldn’t laugh at him or those old women. Someday you’ll be old like them.”

It amused Carla that Beth didn’t appear to think that she, too, would be old someday, but the thought of being treated as everyone treated Myrtle and Sadie was sobering. The two women could be annoying, but so could everyone. Carla knew she annoyed people from time to time, but she was treated well because she was young, attractive, and part owner of a successful ranch. Would she, sometime in the future, find herself in a similar position as these two women?

“We’re not laughing at these two ladies,” Kesney assured his daughter, “just at their reaction to Ivan.”

Beth wasn’t mollified by her father’s explanation. “It looks like the same thing to me.”

Carla had to agree with Beth. “You’re right. I’ve allowed their criticism to make me think unkindly of them.”

“They’re probably just jealous they were never as beautiful as you,” Beth said before looking up at her father with an impish grin. “I doubt they ever had every eligible man in town competing for their attention.”

The arrival of Ivan with his horse and a cowhand with her buggy relieved Carla of having to respond to that embarrassing statement. She thanked Kesney for dinner, managed to avoid giving Beth a definite date for a second dance lesson, and told Kesney once again he didn’t need to see her home. As she drove from the ranch house yard, she could feel the muscles in her back and shoulders start to relax. The evening had been uncomfortable, but until then she didn’t realize just how much so

As lengthening shadows heralded the approach of night, the earth began releasing the heat that accumulated during the day. It rose from the ground like long-tailed minnows swimming in a crystal clear lake. Carla could feel the competing currents of air on her skin.

“That was a nice evening,” Ivan said. “It was kind of Beth to offer to teach me to dance.” Carla had rejected Ivan’s offer to drive her buggy, so he rode alongside.

“And underhanded of you to hide that you know more about dancing than she does.” Her eyes having adjusted to the night, she could see Ivan’s look of surprise despite the shadows.

“Of what do you disapprove?”

She wasn’t sure
disapprove
was the right word. It sounded too parental or old-maidish, and Carla didn’t feel at all like either. “I didn’t say I disapproved, but I do think you misled a young girl who probably has a crush on you.”

“What is this
crush
? I do not think we have such a thing in Poland.”

Carla didn’t know how Ivan could have been in America so long and still not understand common expressions. “It means she likes you, is infatuated with you, maybe even dazzled by you.”

“I do not like this
dazzle
. It sounds like you think I have cast a spell over her. I do not cast spells. We do not approve of witchcraft in Poland.”

Talking to Ivan was like trying to ride through a prairie dog town without stepping into a hole. “I mean you should have told her that you already knew how to dance.”

Ivan regarded her with a questioning look that contained a strong element of disapproval. “Have you always disliked making people happy?”

Carla was so stunned by his question she didn’t know how to answer him. “I’ve never been against making people happy.”

“You do not like that I helped Myrtle Jenkins or Widow Lowell.”

“I never said you shouldn’t have helped them.”

Ivan ignored her protest. “Now you think I should tell Beth I will not let her teach me to dance.”

“That’s not what I said!” She hadn’t meant to raise her voice, but something about Ivan made it nearly impossible to behave normally. “I said you shouldn’t have let her think you didn’t know how to dance.”

“I have never done these Texas dances.”

“Now you’re quibbling?”

“What is this
quibbling?
Why do you not speak the same words as everybody else?”

Carla couldn’t explain the perverse impulse that caused her to burst out laughing rather than blister Ivan with a scalding retort. What was it about this man that infuriated her at the same time it charmed her? She wanted to be furious at him, and she was, but he made her laugh. She wanted to ignore him, forget he existed, yet Fate seemed determined to keep her aware of everything he did. She wanted to make him understand that what he was doing was a subtle kind of dishonesty, yet she was the only person who wasn’t thrilled with him. Something was grievously wrong with this situation. When she got home, she intended to give it some serious thought, but right now she had to try to explain the meaning of quibbling. “It means splitting hairs, avoiding the issue, equivocation.”

Ivan’s expression cleared. “In Poland we have a saying—”

“I’m sure you do, but I won’t understand it any better than you understand me.” Ivan’s blinding smile bloomed, and she lost all desire to bring him to an understanding of why it was wrong to make everybody believe he was the most wonderful man they’d ever met. “I don’t mean to pick at you all the time, but I think you should have told Beth you knew how to dance even if you didn’t know the specific dances she was going to teach you.”

Ivan’s brow furrowed again. “I understand that you do not like why I am here. I do not understand why you must dislike me as well. Do I do awful things to you or your brother? Do I say bad things about you to your friends?”

“I don’t dislike you.” That was part of the problem. It would have been easier if she did. “I know you haven’t said anything unkind about me or Danny. I think it was kind of you to help Myrtle and Sadie. I don’t think you should encourage Beth’s interest in you, but I admit it’s hard to say no to her. Her father doesn’t even try.”

Ivan looked puzzled. “Why do you say I encourage her to like me? She is a child. I do not like children in that way.”

“She doesn’t think she’s a child. And she’s looking for a man.”

“I am too old. Why would she look at me?”

“You don’t see yourself the way Beth does. You’re better looking than any man in Overlin except Danny. You have a charming accent, an exotic background, a smile that should be declared illegal, and you practically fall over yourself helping anybody you can.”

Amusement tinged Ivan’s voice. “You like my smile? You think I am handsome?” His expression faltered. “But surely you do not like my accent. It does not sound like Texas.”

“That’s part of your charm. I’m about the only person in Overlin who doesn’t think you walk on water.” The puzzled expression warned her that she’d wandered into territory foreign to him. “It means I’m about the only person who doesn’t think you’re perfect. Where have you been hiding in the ten years you’ve been in America?” she asked, exasperated. “Don’t people talk to you? Don’t you listen to them?”

“One does not need to talk to chase cows.”

“What about during the war?”

“We rode at night in secret. Even whispering was dangerous.”

Carla wanted to ask him about the secret rides at night, but she noticed several riders coming toward them. It would not have been so unusual to see half a dozen riders coming from the direction of Overlin—this was ranch country where cowhands had to be up early—but they were coming from the direction of the Rio Grande. She didn’t know every cowhand in the county, but when they drew near, she realized she had never seen any of them. She started to drive past, but the lead rider signaled that he wanted her to stop.

“Howdy, ma’am,” the man said when Carla brought her buggy to a stop.

“Good evening,” Carla replied. “Can I help you?”

“Maybe I’d better ask your husband.”

Carla started to explain that Ivan was just a friend but was stopped by an almost imperceptible shake of Ivan’s head. His wary expression said he was on the lookout for possible danger. It surprised her that he was so ready to defend her. It made her feel like a heel for having treated him so harshly. She’d have to find a way to apologize. “He’s new to this area,” Carla told the man. “I’m probably better able to help you.”

The man hesitated but reluctantly turned his gaze to Carla. “We’re trying to find Laveau diViere’s ranch. We were told it was somewhere around here.”

A jumble of words jammed in Carla’s throat. Before she could untangle them, Ivan answered.

“I manage Mr. diViere’s property. He never said I was to expect anyone. I do not need so many new hands.”

The man looked affronted that Ivan would take him for a cowhand.

“We’re not here to chase cows,” one man in the group called out. “We’re here to—”

The man who appeared to be the leader interrupted. “We’re here to stop the raids from across the Mexican border. There’s been a lot of trouble since the war, especially in the southern counties.”

“And the Reconstruction government has done nothing about it,” Carla said.

“That’s about to change,” the man said. “The governor is setting up operations all along the Rio Grande.”

“How does that involve diViere?” Ivan asked.

“He’s given us permission to set up a camp on his land. We’ll need access to grass and water for our horses, but we don’t want to get in your way. An out-of-the-way spot would be good.”

“Do you have some proof of what you say?” Ivan asked.

Carla was irritated at being practically shoved aside in this conversation, but Ivan was asking the right questions. The man reached into his vest pocket and drew out some papers, which he handed to Ivan.

“Here’s a letter from Mr. diViere and one from the governor authorizing me to organize a patrol.”

Carla wouldn’t have thought there was enough light to read the papers, but apparently Ivan could see in the dark. That shouldn’t surprise her. He could do everything else. He read slowly, appeared to read both papers twice. From his expression, he appeared to think the letters were legitimate. She could also tell he wasn’t happy about it.

“I need to keep these until the morning,” Ivan told the man. “DiViere owns only half of the ranch. Miss Reece owns the other part. The ranch has not been divided, so she is as much involved as I am.”

“How do we know you’ll give ’em back?” the malcontent in the rear demanded.

“Why would I keep them?” Ivan asked. “I do not want to set up a camp to catch rustlers. If a man steals cows from me, I do not need permission to get them back.”

“Ignore Bricker,” the leader said to Ivan. “We’ve been in the saddle for several days, and we’re tired. All we need is directions to a place we can camp.”

“It is late,” Ivan said. “You could not see even if I knew how to give directions. Miss Reece’s brother is to ride over the ranch with me tomorrow. You can bed down near the creek for tonight and ride with us.”

The man appeared to hesitate before reluctantly agreeing. “My name is William Riley.” He extended his hand to Ivan. “I hope we won’t be too much trouble.”

“How can we be too much trouble if we’re sleeping out?” Bricker asked.

Riley ignored Bricker. “We have our own supplies, ma’am,” he said, directing his remarks to Carla, “so we won’t be expecting you to cook for us.”

Not knowing the best response, and being certain the sharp retort hovering on her tongue wasn’t it, Carla just nodded before she put her horse into an easy canter. Ivan rode alongside while Riley and his men followed at a distance.

“Did you know anything about this?” Carla asked.

“I said I did not.”

“I don’t mean about those men,” Carla said. “I mean about the governor trying to stop rustlers from Mexico.”

“No, but my friends have been complaining about it for years. I hear Richard King has lost thousands of cows.”

Lawless bands from across the border had been raiding cattle ranches ever since the war had deprived Texas of most of its fighting men, and neither the army nor the Reconstruction government did anything to stop it. She hoped the arrival of these men signaled a change in official attitude, but Ivan wasn’t happy. “Do you think these men are telling the truth?” she asked.

“I do not know. Governor Davis has passed laws that give him the right to do almost anything he wants. The militia and state police are under his personal control. One of the papers says Riley has his authority directly from the governor.”

“What about the other one?”

“It gives Riley the right to use any part of the ranch he needs.”