Texas Blue (13 page)

She hesitated, then nodded. “I used to sit out here wrapped in a blanket with my father. We’d watch storms come in over the mountains.”

He tossed half the quilt over her and leaned to tuck the end in at her shoulder. “I know you don’t like to touch, but you’re shivering. If you move closer, we might keep each other warm, and I promise to pretend I don’t notice you’re there.”

She moved so near he could feel her shaking.

“It’s all right, Em; I may have done a lot of things in my life, but I’ve never hurt a woman. In a funny way, despite all your yelling and bossing, you’ve been kinder to me than anyone here. If I didn’t have to wait for the train in town until Saturday, I’d leave tonight.”

“They like you well enough,” she said. “Give them time to get to know you, and then they’ll dislike you with grounds.”

“That’s very comforting.” He grinned. “I’ve been around you for two days and you still can barely tolerate me.”

“True.” She moved closer still. “But I am getting used to you and now that I know I can beat you up, I do feel better around you.” They both laughed, and she added, “Just promise not to call me your friend. I’m not sure I have as much blood in me as the last friend you had this morning.”

He lifted his arm and held the blanket around one shoulder as her other shoulder slid against the warmth of his side. “You got a deal.”

“Where’d you learn to throw a knife like that?” She pushed at his shoulder as if it were a pillow.

“Church,” he said, remembering the year he’d spent at a mission when his mother seemed to have forgotten he existed. She’d dropped him off there one morning in early spring to go to work and not picked him up for eleven months. The nuns made him work around the place and go to school every morning and mass every afternoon, but they never found the knife he’d had on him when he’d entered. More because of nothing else to do than for self-defense, he spent all his alone time practicing tossing the old knife. By the time he could afford a good blade, he was deadly accurate.

To this day, when he was feeling lonely or down, he’d practice with a knife. In a way it was as comforting as sitting silently with an old friend.

“Church,” Em mumbled, as if she didn’t believe him but was too tired to question.

Slowly, they both relaxed. They talked about the storm coming in and watched winter lightning flash along the top of the hill line. Neither asked personal questions, maybe because neither wanted to answer any.

Finally, about the time the music stopped and the lights in the main room were turned low, Lewt shifted so that Em could settle her head more comfortably on his shoulder. He could tell from her steady breathing that she was sound asleep, and to his surprise he had no desire to go inside.

When she settled against his side, her hand reached out and found his. She held on tight, even in sleep. Lewt thought it was the strangest, most tender thing he’d ever known a woman to do.

He didn’t pull his hand away. In his entire life he couldn’t remember one time anyone had ever held his hand. He rocked slowly and kissed the top of her head just before he drifted into sleep.

 

A
BOUT THE TIME THE U.S. CAVALRY FINISHED BREAKFAST, they heard a racket and felt the earth rumble as only a herd of cattle can make it do when they’re running at full speed. The soldiers saddled up and moved closer to the Rio. At first all they saw was cattle, and then as the sun rose, they saw the rangers climbing down to where their horses had been left, mounting up, and herding the stolen cattle back onto Texas soil.

McNelly rode in the lead of the tired, dirty band. He smiled broadly beneath his beard and mustache. His bluff had paid off. The ranchers across the border claimed they didn’t have the bandits, but they returned the cattle.

As the rangers reached Texas, they circled out, allowing the cavalry to herd.

One soldier stepped up to hold McNelly’s horse while the captain of the rangers stepped down. “You left a horse on the other side of the river, sir,” the private announced.

McNelly glanced back. “That’s Duncan McMurray’s horse. Damn devil won’t let anyone ride her but Duncan, and, to tell the truth, I don’t think there’s one of my men who have enough strength left to try.”

“Where is McMurray?”

“He’ll be along,” the captain said, as if voicing his words would make it so. “He’s a third-generation ranger. If he’s alive, he’ll make it back to Texas.”

Wyatt moved up beside McNelly. “You want me to take a few men and go back to look for him?”

McNelly shook his head. “It’d take a hundred men to go after him now. They’ve figured out we were bluffing. Any Texan on that side of the Rio is probably already dead. Duncan’s smart. My guess is he’s found somewhere to hide and decided to wait it out until dark. Get some grub and some sleep. By the time you wake up, he’ll be here ready to eat some supper.”

Wyatt watched the river all day, hoping Duncan would somehow show up. In the dark before a sliver of moon appeared, he swam the river one last time and tried to bring Duncan’s mare back. The Mexicans had left her tied, probably hoping she’d lose some of her fight when she got hungry enough.

The mare let Wyatt close enough to pull her saddle and untie the bridle, and then she bolted into the night as if she had somewhere to be and was late.

Wyatt swam back across the river thinking that at least the horse was alive, even if Duncan McMurray hadn’t made it.

L
EWT ROLLED OVER, OPENED ONE EYE, AND REALIZED it was after dawn. He’d probably missed whatever torture Em had planned for him today. To his surprise, he felt strangely sorry for not meeting her at dawn.

The others had asked about his day, but the ladies didn’t seem overly interested and the men were probably happy he wasn’t around. He could probably fall over dead and the only one who would miss him would be Em. Oh, and Mrs. Allender would worry that her bird might catch whatever killed him.

Sometime, long after midnight, he’d carried Em inside and left her on an old worn couch in the big room downstairs. He had no idea where the woman slept and wasn’t about to ask anyone. Knowing Em, she’d be up and in the saddle before anyone else woke.

She was one tough woman, but asleep last night she seemed so fragile. He’d remembered the way she’d looked when he’d gripped her shoulder to steady himself as she’d doctored his cut. For a moment fear and panic had flooded those haunting eyes. He never wanted to see that look again. The memory of how broken she’d appeared after he’d demanded she hit him flashed through his mind. He didn’t care if she hated every man on earth; he didn’t want her to hate
him
. He found it impossible to believe that no man outside her family had ever won her trust.

He guessed part of the reason she’d never married was that she was taller than most men and so slender she barely had any shape to her. Then, to decrease her chances more, she lived out here in the middle of nowhere and worked all day alone. Her final handicap in the race to the altar would be her shyness. She did a good job of hiding it with her cold brisk manner, but he’d glimpsed her hesitance around men. She never let anyone close enough to hurt her.

She wasn’t homely or even plain. She just did nothing to make herself attractive. After seeing women painted up most of his life, the contrast was refreshing, he finally reasoned.

He dressed in one of the new cotton shirts and heavy wool trousers he’d bought and went down to the kitchen, deciding that Em wasn’t his problem. In a few days he’d be gone and it wasn’t likely their paths would ever cross again. Yet when he noticed a few slight bruises on his shoulder, he was glad he’d broken through to her, if only a bit.

Mrs. Allender and Rose were sitting at the big round table in the kitchen. They appeared to be drinking tea and talking as the smell of cinnamon filled the room.

“Morning, Lewton.” Rose jumped to her feet. “May I get you some coffee?”

“Please, sit down.” He smiled back at her, liking the way she greeted him. “I can help myself. If you don’t mind me joining you two sweet ladies this beautiful morning.” He was laying it on a little thick, but he’d decided last night that he’d give this courting thing one more try. He’d never walked away from a game until all the cards had been played, and he’d had the dream of a home and family too long to let it die. If all the saloon girls liked him, surely one of these ladies would see something worth taking home.

Rose handed him a cup and let him pour his own coffee while she watched, as if ready to step in if he made a mistake. She barely reached his shoulder, and he decided that if he could win her heart, he’d call her Little Darling.

He leaned down to smell the warm cinnamon air coming from beneath the cover of a white towel.

She wiggled one finger at him, silently telling him to leave her baking alone. “Later,” she whispered. “I promise.”

The thought crossed his mind to lift Rose off her feet and kiss her right here, right now, but Mrs. Allender would probably have a heart attack, and he wasn’t all that sure Rose would welcome his advances. She was nice, and friendly, but not all that friendly.

Mrs. Allender broke the mood by saying, “Join us. By the time you finish that cup of coffee, the breakfast rolls should be cool.”

“You two seemed deep in planning. Maybe I should leave?”

“Oh, no.” Rose followed him to the table and took her seat when he held out her chair. “We were just thinking about what we’d like to do today. Finally, it looks like we are going to have a sunny day. It’s a little cold and damp to have a picnic, but we could ride out to where the men do the spring branding. There’s a fire pit out there and rocks that would work as chairs. We could have lunch there and then ride up to the summit. The view is grand this time of year. Sometimes I think you can see for a hundred miles.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Lewt said, thinking at least there wouldn’t be any singing. He also felt a little more comfortable on a horse than he had when he’d arrived, thanks to Em.

“I won’t be going, of course.” Mrs. Allender shook her head. “Reverend and Mrs. Watson told me that if the group plans an outing anywhere a buggy can’t go, they’ll stay at home as well. The three of us could probably all use a nap. You young people are keeping us up too late.”

“I think we’ll manage without babysitters,” he said, winking at Rose.

She looked down, not returning his smile. He wondered if he’d been a little bold. “That is if I’m invited, Miss Rose.”

Those dark beautiful eyes met his. “Of course you’re invited; you’re our guest. We’d love to have you come along.”

Lewt might have thought her invitation a little more
inviting
if she’d said
she’d
like him to come along.

They talked of little things for a while, and the table slowly filled.

First Boyd arrived and shouted with the excitement of getting to ride after two days of being in the house. For all his talk of loving horses, Em had told Lewt that he’d never come to the barn to check on his animals. Since the night they’d played cards, Lewt had the feeling Boyd Sinclair was playing more than one game.

Next came the other two sisters. Bethie didn’t seem very excited about the picnic, and Emily complained that she feared she might not finish her sewing. Lewt couldn’t help but wonder if either of the girls was aware of how they’d hurt Rose’s feelings by dashing her plan.

He watched her carefully. She didn’t say a word. Didn’t defend the plan. She just packed a lunch for them all. He wasn’t sure if Rose didn’t care what her sisters said, or if she was just sure that, in the end, they’d give in and follow her suggestions. It was a good plan. After all, they’d been cooped up in the house all day thanks to the rain.
Except for me
, Lewt thought; he’d been out riding with Em.

As soon as he finished breakfast, Lewt said he’d go out to the barn and help get the horses ready. Davis was still eating breakfast, so he didn’t offer to help, but Boyd asked Lewt to tell his wrangler to have both his horses ready to ride in ten minutes. He was explaining to the women that he never made up his mind which to ride before he saw their moods.