Dashing Druid (Texas Druids) (17 page)

She’d hoped he wouldn’t ask that. Deciding there was no help for it, she stared at his shirt front and explained, “Out at his pa’s ranch, he . . . cornered me by the corral and . . . and put his hands on me.”

“That bastard! I’ll kill him!” Tye pivoted toward the door, a ferocious scowl on his face.

“No!” Lil cried, grabbing his arm. “There’s no harm done. His brother, Travis, came along and stopped him.” She lifted her chin. “Besides, I can take care of myself. I woulda flattened Frank if I had to.”

Tye snorted at her boast, but she felt his taut muscles begin to relax. “He didn’t hurt ye?”

“No. I’m fine.”

He studied her face. Satisfied at last, he tucked her hand back in place under his arm. “Come along then. I’ll walk ye to your room.”

“Y-you don’t have to do that,” she protested as he led her toward the stairs.

“Lily, I’m not leaving ’til you’re safe behind a locked door.”

She didn’t argue, although she felt foolish waiting in the hall while he checked her room to make sure it was empty. She also felt absurdly pleased. He’d acted protective earlier too, when she’d worried what her father might do should he find them together.

“Lock the door and don’t open it for anyone but your father,” Tye ordered, handing back her key. “And if somebody tries to get in, scream your head off. Understand?”

Lil had to smile. “I’ve got a gun and I’m a good shot.”

“Aye, and you’re brave as brave can be, but I still don’t like leaving ye here alone. I felt, er, I could tell Howard was thinking of doing ye harm. If he were to return and come looking for ye –”

Impulsively, she pressed her fingers to his lips. “I’ll be all right. Just don’t you go hunting for him. He’s mean as a rattler, and I don’t want you . . . .” She removed her hand and dropped her gaze. “Just don’t.”

He caught her chin between thumb and forefinger and made her look up. “Lily,” he whispered, blue eyes glowing like a doorway to Heaven. His arms slipped around her, drawing her in, and a sigh escaped her as his mouth covered hers. He was gentle at first but before long his tongue was tangling with hers in a wild, mind-spinning rush that made her heart gallop. One hand cupped her bottom, pressing her against the rigid evidence of his desire. He groaned and her blood sang.

One moment they were fused together; the next he tore his lips from hers and held her away. “For the love o’ God, Lily, go inside! Howard’s insult to ye rings in my head. I’ll not prove him right.” His husky voice shook, revealing what a fragile leash he had upon himself.

Lil’s defenses lay in smoldering ruins, exactly as she had feared almost from the day they’d met. Clinging to his arms, she gazed at him, needing his kiss and the feel of his body molded to hers. Honor and duty were only words, tomorrow only a hazy possibility. Tye was warm flesh and blood, and he wanted her, Lil Crawford, the skinny tomboy who’d thought no man would ever want her.

“I almost wish you would,” she whispered, hoarse with need.

Muttering in Gaelic, he closed his eyes. When he opened them, he disengaged her hands. “Go inside, love,” he said in a gentle tone.

She nodded reluctantly and backed into her room, gaze never leaving his. More than anything, she longed to draw him inside with her.

“Lock it,” he reminded her when she started to close the door.

Only when she turned the key, did she hear him stride down the hall. She fought a desperate urge to jerk open the door and run after him.

CHAPTER TEN

Temperatures dropped through the night, bringing a chill, gray dawn. When Lil rode into camp with her father, Tye immediately knew her mood matched the weather. From the first day they’d met, her emotions had breached his mental barrier as if it didn’t exist, as they did now. Her confusion of anger, remorse and humiliation struck to the heart of him.

Alarmed, Tye started toward her as she dismounted, but she shot him a sharp glance and shook her head, stopping him in his tracks. She turned to speak to
Del
for a moment,
then
headed for a clump of scraggly trees and bushes, evidently to take care of personal needs. Before she returned, Tye was in the saddle, helping to shag the herd into motion.

Worry gnawed at him all morning. Had Frank Howard returned to terrorize Lil last night, as he’d feared the vicious lout might do? Had he hurt her? Not until their nooning did he have a chance to ask her.

Del
had ridden ahead with Choctaw Jack to check grass conditions and hadn’t yet returned when the second lunch shift rolled around. Taking advantage of his absence, Tye got his plate filled and walked over to Lil. Bundled in buckskins, she stood alone, eating or pretending to. She stiffened at his approach.

“Lily, you’re very quiet,” he said. “Are ye all right? Did Howard bother
ye
last night after I left?”

“No,” she replied tersely, stabbing at the beans on her plate with her fork. It didn’t require any extraordinary mental ability to see she was still angry and upset, but his special sense confirmed the fact.

“What is it then? Are ye put out with me?”

“No, not you.
Me!” She turned half away. “It was me who didn’t want you to go, me who behaved like a –”

“Don’t, colleen. Don’t hurl stones at yourself for only being human.”

She faced him with an unblinking stare. “But what if you hadn’t walked away? What about afterward? Would you have made an honest woman of me, Tye, or would you have vamoosed quicker than spit in the wind?”

“No! I . . . .” He stopped and stared at her, the words he’d been about to say frozen on his tongue.

Lil’s chin trembled. “That’s what I figured.”

He reached out. “Lily, I can’t –”

She slapped his hand aside. “Let be! And stay away from me. Please.” Not giving him a chance to argue, she dashed over to the wreck pan and threw in her nearly full plate.

“Hey! If’n yuh don’t like my
cookin
’, do it your own self,” Chic objected.

Ignoring him, Lil hurried to her horse. As she rode out, Tye cursed himself for not being able to give her the answer she’d needed to hear. All of a sudden his old doubts had reared their ugly heads, and he’d gone mute, wondering how he could ask her to give up home and family for him. What had he to offer?
Nothing, no home, no future to speak of.
Only a load of guilt and fear and broken dreams.
No! He couldn’t,
wouldn’t
saddle her with such a poor excuse for a man as himself. He’d been selfish to ever think of doing that to her.

By the saints, I’ll not go near her again!

* * *

Tye kept that vow as they pressed north over the next several days to the
Red River
amid rain and hail. Instead of kicking up dust, the herd now toiled across a spongy quagmire. Grass grew limp and poor, the cattle and horses lost weight, and the crew shivered in their saddles. Hunched beneath a dripping hat and oiled-cotton slicker during the day, Tye slept rolled in a tarpaulin of the same material at night, dreaming of a dry, warm bed – with Lil in it – and every dawn brought fresh anger at himself for having such dreams.

They were nearing the
Texas
border when
Del
sent Jack on a scouting trip to Red River Station, where they would cross into
Indian Territory
. Supper time arrived before the Indian returned.

Chic had laid camp by a grove of scraggly post oaks. He’d run out of dry firewood days ago. Tye and the others had dragged in branches to restock the
cuna
, a rawhide sling under the chuck wagon, but the wet wood didn’t burn well, making Chic’s job doubly hard. As a result, the cook was ‘
techy
as a teased snake’ in Dewey’s words.

A steady drizzle dimmed the waning light as Tye squatted next to Luis and Rusty, choking down a meal of undercooked beans and coffee. Like him, the other two bent over their plates, trying to keep the rain off their food. Luis fared best with his broad sombrero. Rusty, with his soggy hat flopping over both ears, looked like a droopy hound left to shiver in the rain, pretty much how Tye felt.

His gaze instinctively sought Lil. Perched on the trunk of a fallen tree, she huddled in her slicker, attention on her food. Nearby, her father discussed grass conditions with Neil MacClure. They broke off their conversation when Jack rode in.

“You make it to the Red all right?”
Del
asked as the tall Indian turned his muddy horse over to Jubal and headed for the chuck wagon.

“I did. She’s high and running fast.”

Del
nodded grimly. “How many other herds did you see?”

“Two wait to cross,” Jack replied as Chic handed him a plate of beans. “Another will get there a day before us.”

“Damn.
And a bunch behind us.
Sure hope it don’t end up like back in ’71. I trailed west that spring, sold to an outfit over on the
Pecos
, but I heard tell Big Red was a mile wide.”
Del
glanced at his
segundo
. “Weren’t you in that
godawful
stampede, Neil?”

“Aye, and a horror it was. Sixty thousand steers all
runnin
’ like the devil was after them. That’s how many were bedded near the Station at the time. Shanghai Pierce warned the other bosses ta move their herds back, but they
wouldna
listen. They feared
losin
’ their turn at the crossing.”

Del
grunted derisively. “Durn fools.”

“Exactly.
A few nights later, one herd stampeded and before ye knew it, they were all up and on the run. Took ten days ta sort them out, and I
canna
tell ye how many were killed or crippled.”

Head bent,
Del
crossed his arms and paced slowly back and forth. Water poured off his hat and splashed under his boots. Finally, he stopped and looked up. “Boys, we’ll try waiting out the river.
At a distance.
But with grass so bad, the herd’s gonna be restless. We may have to cross while she’s still up some.”

Neil gave him a steady stare. “I wonder
,
did ye hear what else happened that time? There was this Mexican outfit from down Refugio way. The sun came out and they tried
crossin
’ before the river went down.
Lost a good many cattle . . . and two men.”

“I’m no fool, MacClure,”
Del
snapped. “I ain’t about to try the river if it’s that bad. But we’re not losing half the herd in a stampede, neither. Not if I can help it.”

The Scot said no more, but his grim face spoke volumes.

Tye glanced at Lil. Although her withdrawn expression revealed little, he detected a heavy sadness within her. Neil’s story seemed not to frighten her, but the thought of her in a wild river, amid panicked cattle, frightened
him
mightily.

The woman brought out his protective instinct, along with all of his baser ones. When he wasn’t worrying about her, he was thinking how much he longed to kiss her and feel her catch fire in his arms. He’d go mad with yearning before this infernal drive was over.

Aye, and when it’s over, what then, boyo? Shall ye return to the River T and be forever tormented with the colleen so near, yet out of your reach? Or shall it be
Colorado
and the Tommyknockers waiting for
ye
in the black depths?

Was he ready to face his demons? Could he bear to never see Lil again?

* * *

Lil swore under her breath as she watched the
Red River
rush past her lookout point. Hundreds of yards wide and rusty with clay, the tumbling water carried a dangerous cargo of uprooted trees and brush. Occasionally a bloated carcass also swept past. The herd wouldn’t be moving on for a while, not across that.

They’d pushed hard today through wooded country where panthers were said to lurk, and had settled the herd several miles back on Panther Creek. Then Lil had ridden ahead with her father and Neil to inspect the river. She kind of wished she hadn’t. The sight was worse than she’d imagined.

“A fine thing,” her father muttered.

“Aye. ’
Twill
be
a few days at least before it settles down,” Neil remarked.

“If we don’t get any more gully-washers.”

Lil glanced at the sky. The rain had finally let up, for which she was thankful, but the bright blue dome above did nothing to lighten her glum mood.

Her thoughts kept returning to that evening in
Fort Worth
, and the morning after, when Tye’s silence had confirmed her worst fear. All he’d ever wanted was to get into her drawers. If Frank Howard’s crude remarks hadn’t roused his sense of honor – or maybe it was only pride – no doubt he would have taken advantage of her shameful weakness that night.

At least he’d left her alone since then, as she’d begged him to do. Yeah, and didn’t that prove she was right about him? He didn’t really care about her, he just . . . .

“Come on, I’ve seen enough,” her father said, snapping her back to the present.

Lil followed him away from the turbulent river, unable to escape her roiling thoughts so easily.

* * *

The orange sun floated low on a crimson horizon as Tye slowly circled the herd. His thoughts were not on his job. He’d been in camp when Lil returned from the river with her father and Neil, and it was obvious from their grim expressions that the situation was bad. For Lil’s sake, Tye hoped
Del
would not attempt the crossing before it was safe.

A whistle caught his ear. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Kirby Daniels riding toward him.

“Mister Crawford says head for camp. He wants to powwow with all of
us’n
,” the skinny youth called.

Nodding, Tye turned Patch and headed for the wagons. Most of the crew had already gathered when he arrived. Del Crawford stood smoking a hand-rolled cigarette as he conferred with his
segundo
. Chic and Jubal had managed to build a decent fire, and judging by the aroma, they’d have the cook’s famous “son-of-a-bitch” stew for supper. It would be a welcome change after days of eating beans and more beans, Tye thought.

Then he spotted Lil with Choctaw Jack. She laughed at something the handsome Indian said, causing Tye to grit his teeth. He’d never been jealous over any other woman, but the green-eyed monster took a bite out of him now, just as it had whenever he’d thought of Lil with Frank Howard.

He swung off his horse and wound his reins around the picket line. Instinct pulled him toward Lil, but he halted when she looked his way. Her cold stare and the anger behind it stabbed into his brain, making him flinch. The pain reminded him of the vow he’d made to himself to stay away from Lil. Sighing in resignation, he aimed a scowl at Jack, then turned and walked over to join Dewey and Luis.

“Listen up,”
Del
barked a moment later. “Most of you know this place. For those that don’t . . .” His steely eyes pinned Tye briefly. “. . .
it’s
called Panther Creek. And there’s a good reason for that. The cats have caused stampedes here before.”

He looked at each of them in turn. “I don’t want that happening to us,
’specially
with other outfits nearby. So we’re gonna ride double shifts tonight and every night ’til we move on.”

Muttered grumbles sounded until he held up a hand for silence. “We’ll go short on sleep, but that’s better than trying to stop twenty-five-hundred fired up steers. ’Sides, it won’t be the last time we lose shut-eye on this drive. Y’all know that.”