Solitary Horseman (4 page)

She wished Hollis would go to church with her, but she knew he wouldn’t. He felt forsaken and she hadn’t been able to convince him otherwise. Her hope was that time would eventually heal his emotional and spiritual wounds.

Would Callum be there? He wasn’t a regular churchgoer. Once every few weeks, he would show up in his boiled white shirt, black trousers, black kerchief tied around his neck, shiny boots, belt with a silver buckle, and his dark hair slicked back. A few months ago, she’d found herself behind him in line as they’d filed out of the church, each person speaking to the pastor. A bit of breeze had scampered in through the open door, past Callum, and into her and she had smelled his clean, soapy scent mixed with leather. He was one of the cleanest men she’d been around, and now that she spent time at the Latimer place, she knew why.

He didn’t like dirt. Not one bit.

Every morning when she arrived just after dawn, he smelled of soap and his hair was wet because he’d obviously given himself a scrub-down. When he came back for breakfast, he always stopped outside the back door to wash his face, neck, arms, and hands. Before the midday meal, he repeated the ritual. If he deemed his shirt too dirty, he put on a clean one before arriving at the table. Sometimes he would change his shirt three times in one day, which meant that the laundry seemed to be never-ending.

After each meal, he retired to the back porch where he brushed his teeth, even using a jar of toothpaste. His toothpaste smelled different from any other, though, like it had spices in it.

Yesterday, giving in to curiosity, she had opened the jar and sniffed it. The aromas of cinnamon and mint had wafted to her. She’d looked at the jar lid, surprised to see that it was the very same kind she purchased in the general store in town. How come hers smelled and tasted like chalk with a hint of charcoal? Glancing up, she’d found that she was the source of Mary Killdeer’s amusement.

“I was . . . this smells good.” She’d fastened the lid back onto the small jar.

“It’s my own mixture.”

“Oh?”

Mary had nodded. “I put cinnamon and the juice from chopped mint leaves into it. Makes it taste better.”

“I believe I’ll try that myself.”

“When Cal was a boy, he hated the taste of the paste, so I mixed good tasting things into it until I settled on the cinnamon and mint. Makes your mouth tingle for a long time after. My boys like it, too. They say the girls enjoy kissing them because of it.” Her dark eyes had danced with mischief. “I say the girls would kiss them anyways because they’re so fine to look upon.”

Banner had chuckled with her. “I believe you’re right, Mary. You have handsome sons.”

Mary’s eyes had widened a little and then crinkled at the corners. After that, Mary seemed to be friendlier toward her and had even chatted with her about the garden, the kind of laundry soap she preferred, and how to get blood stains out of different kinds of material. The woman was a wealth of information. Banner found her fascinating and good company, so she was perplexed when Mary had asked, “You like us Indians okay then?”

She’d had to dissect the question before she could answer her properly. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I? You’ve been very kind to me.”

“White people – a lot of them anyways – don’t want us here. They want us closed off on reservations.”

“A lot of people don’t want me around either – or any of my kin. I don’t judge people by how they look or who they’re related to. Their behavior toward me is what is most important and I think we’re becoming friends.”

Mary had smiled shyly at that. “I got to get back to work.” She’d glanced at Banner through her short eyelashes and a grin had poked at her mouth. “Friend.”

Snuggling deeper into the lumpy mattress, Banner smiled into the darkness of her bedroom as her thoughts traveled to the subject that had become her nighttime indulgence – Callum Latimer. Everything he did or said interested her.

As if he were a school book, she studied him every chance she was given. Everything about him was mesmerizing. The way he ate – the muscles in his strong jaw flexing as he chewed. The way he walked – a long-legged saunter that gobbled up ground. The way he sat a horse – back straight, shoulders squared, his big body moving liquidly with the animal’s movements.

She enjoyed his expressions – even his scowls made her heart trip over itself. Every once in a while, she caught him looking at her in a way that made her insides melt as if they’d been torched. Did she imagine the flame of interest in his eyes? She didn’t think so, but she kept reminding herself that Callum Latimer would no more want her than he would pine for a porcupine! She was a Payne and that meant he viewed her as soiled. And he hated feeling dirty.

With a long sigh, she turned over onto her side and closed her eyes against the burn of tears. No use crying over what you can’t change, she told herself. He’d been raised to disdain Paynes and that was a long-held tradition. Why, his father could barely look at her without curling his upper lip in a sneer. Not that she gave one whit about Seth Latimer not liking her. Surly, old goat! Had he always been such a disagreeable sort or had his personality curdled once he’d fallen off his horse and realized he’d never sit in that saddle again?

She shoved aside thoughts of the elder Larimer and turned them toward something much more pleasant – his son. She filled her mind with the deep rumble of Callum’s voice and the verdant green of his eyes. Sleep came calling with dreams in tow. Dreams of Callum Latimer.

###

Callum was in church the next day and was called on by Preacher Vancroft to come to the pulpit and read from the Bible. Callum’s deep voice traveled easily as he chose to read from John 15: 9-17 about loving one’s enemies and not seeing others as servants. Admiring how his shoulders filled out his blazingly white shirt and the cut of his dark gray trousers, Banner wondered if the words resonated in him or if he rejected them as impossible to follow.

The reactions around her were split, with some murmuring “amen” and others making grumpy sounds of dissent.

Did Callum view her as a servant or a partner? She wondered. As a woman or a trifle? Ever since he’d mentioned Eller to her, she’d fretted that Eller might have embroidered the truth, making Callum think that she’d allowed or even encouraged Eller’s advances. She knew Eller to be a liar, so she wouldn’t put it past him to even tell Callum that he’d had his way with her, giving Callum more reason to think of her as sullied.

More than once, she’d been tempted to tell Callum that she had never allowed anything but a kiss from Eller, but then reason had stayed her. Why would Callum even care?

She’d hoped to be near him in the line of parishioners leaving the church, each person pausing to shake Preacher Vancroft’s hand. No such luck. He was somewhere behind her. She could hear Sadie Winkler chattering away at him, her voice high and fluty. Her giggles grated on Banner’s nerves. What was so dang funny? Was Callum charming Sadie? Did he think Sadie was pretty in her pink frock and lacy bonnet?

Glancing down at her own rather drab, dark blue dress, Banner wished she had more clothes. She had three dresses that were good enough for church. This one, the blue one with ruffles, and a yellow one with gingham trim. They were all worse for the wear. She’d had them since before the war broke out. She touched the rim of her bonnet – her only decent one.

“What’s put that fretful expression on your enchanting face, Miss Payne?”

She started and turned her wide-eyed gaze toward the man who had spoken. His moon-shaped face and benign smile made her feel a little queasy. Altus Decker, the Yankee from Ohio who wanted to buy their ranch. “Good morning, Mr. Decker,” she said, turning away from him.

“Might I be so bold as to say that you look lovely this Sunday morning?”

She nodded, tossing him a quick, polite smile, but saying nothing in return. He made her uneasy and she certainly didn’t want him to continue complimenting her. When he’d stopped by a couple of times and finally made an offer on the Payne land, she had been glad that Hollis had been with her because she didn’t like the thought of being alone with Altus Decker. The way he looked at her – his pale blue-eyed gaze drifting to her bosom, lifting to her throat, slinking up to her lips – it made her want to curl into herself. She gave a little gasp when his fingers touched her elbow.

“Allow me to walk you outside to your wagon. It would be my honor.”

“There’s no need.” She tried to inch away, but his fingers tightened.

“I insist. I’ve been told that you’re working for the Latimers. That can’t be pleasant for you. A lovely lady like yourself shouldn’t be doing hard labor. You should have others doing for you.” He leaned closer to her, his cigar-stale breath slipping across her skin. “I could make that happen.”

“You’re crowding the lady,” Callum growled and unceremoniously jerked Decker’s hand away from Banner’s arm.

“Am I?” Decker quirked a pale brow.

“Yes, you are,” Callum assured him.

Banner felt light-headed as she stared at Callum’s chiseled profile. Never in her whole life had she felt like a damsel in distress being saved by a conquering hero – not until that very minute. It took everything in her not to beam at him.

“I was offering to escort this lovely, young lady to her vehicle,” Decker informed him, smiling from Callum to Banner. “Wasn’t I, Miss Payne?”

“She doesn’t need an escort,” Callum said, stepping to Banner’s side and blocking Decker’s view of her. “She already has one.” He dipped his head slightly like a bull getting ready to charge. “Me.”

Banner stared in amazement at him as her heart lifted like a bird on the wing. She caught Sadie Winkler’s squinty-eyed glare and couldn’t keep from grinning.

Decker chuckled. “I know she’s working for you, but I didn’t know—”

“I reckon there’s a lot you don’t know.” Callum turned to her. “Shall we say our goodbyes to the pastor and head out?”

“Yes.” She felt warm color stain her cheeks when Callum’s hand closed on her upper arm. He guided her to the pastor and never gave Decker another glance.

“Cal, thank you for that reading.” Preacher Vancroft reached for Callum’s hand with both of his and pumped it.

“Glad to oblige.”

“Good to see you as always, Miss Payne.”

“Thank you. It was a moving sermon.” She walked on with Callum’s hand still on her arm, gently propelling her. It seemed that his touch burned through her sleeve to heat her skin.

“How do you know Decker?”

She looked up at his face and he seemed almost angry. “He’s one of the Yankees who tried to buy our place.”

A grimace flitted across his handsome features. “Has he – bothered you?”

“Bothered?” she repeated, not sure how to interpret that. The hard glint in Callum’s eyes helped her. “No. It was just business.”

“He wasn’t thinking about your land just now.”

“He was buttering me up. I’m sure he was on the verge of asking me to reconsider selling to him. He’s heard about me working for you and—”

“You don’t work for me. We’re partners in a business deal.” They’d reached her wagon and he turned her around to face him. “If people ask, that’s what you tell them. It’ a barter. You’re helping me around my place with domestic chores and I’m helping you with your cattle because you’re short-handed.”

“What difference does it make?”

“I’m not your boss and you aren’t on my payroll.”

“Oh.” She raised her brows, enlightened, and smiled when he raised his in a gently mocking way. “Point taken.”

“Unless you need a boss . . .”

“No. No, thank you.” Startled, she examined his feature more carefully. Was he teasing her? She caught a glint in his eyes. He was! “Believe you me, your father is bossy enough.”

One corner of his mouth quirked up. “That’s what I figured.” He reached into the wagon and gathered the reins from around the brake, then tightened his grip on her arm. “Up you go.”

She placed her foot on the sideboard and gave a hop, rising and settling on the seat. His hand fell away from her and she felt the loss of his touch as if the sun had slipped behind a cloud. He gave her the reins. “Thank you,” she said and her voice came out huskier than usual. “For everything.” She met his gaze and saw his chest expand with a sudden breath as his eyes narrowed a fraction.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I want to,” she said, and the words took on a different shading.

He nodded and took another step back. “See you tomorrow.”

“That you shall,” she assured him, giving the reins a flick. Pansy set off with a jingle of harness and a clatter of hooves.

She wanted to look over her shoulder at him, but she resisted. Instead, she stared straight ahead and recalled the devilish glints that had danced in his eyes for a few moments. So, he thought of her as his business partner. And he’d intervened when Decker had been flirtatious with her. Maybe he didn’t think she was far, far beneath him.

Was it possible that Callum could be attracted to her? Even though she was a Payne? She rounded her shoulders and shook her head vigorously, rejecting the notion. What possible good could come of it other than having her heart trampled along with their tenuous partnership? She wouldn’t put the ranch in jeopardy. She’d continue admiring him from afar and allow his kisses and caresses only in her dreams.