Texas Tender (27 page)

“I was hoping you liked me, but I wasn't prepared
for anything like this,” she said. “I don't know what to say.”

Will reached for her hand. “Then don't say anything.”

“But I ought to know my own mind.”

“You've had a lot to worry about. I'm afraid it's not over. You and Carl have to be careful.”

“Why?”

“I hoped things would stop when I paid off the loan, but they haven't. So far, neither of you has been hurt, but that might change. Somebody is mighty determined to get your land.”

“I knew Jordan wanted my ranch,” Idalou said, “but I never thought he'd blow up our dam. I should have realized that someone like Newt would take advantage of the situation to try to rustle our herd.”

“I don't think it's that simple. I think Newt is a pawn. There's more than one player in this game. I just don't know how to prove it. Moreover, I don't think your ranch is all that's at stake.”

“You're scaring me.” Idalou had never considered that she and Carl would be in physical danger. “And making me angry. Aren't you going to tell me what you think is going on?”

“Not until I have more evidence. I don't want to wrongly accuse anyone.”

“You think Frank Sonnenberg is involved, don't you?”

“Yes.”

“He told me long ago that he'd match anything Jordan offered for the ranch. When I told him I didn't want to sell, he said he just didn't want to see it go to anyone else. He and Van have done everything they could to help us. Why would Frank want to drive us out?”

“Because he could gain control of the water he
needs, and get rid of Carl as a rival to Van at the same time.”

Will hadn't spent many nights sleeping under the stars. Though he'd lived on a ranch since he was eight, being the youngest child meant he got the first bed available. Unlike several of his brothers, he'd never developed an appreciation for hunkering down in a bedroll with a bunch of cows for company or rocks gouging him in the back. On his list of things to avoid, waking up with dew on his face was right behind being forced out of bed in the middle of the night to watch a bunch of cows sleep. Lying awake when he should have been sound asleep was up there, too.

He glanced over at Idalou and Carl. Both were sleeping soundly, their rest undisturbed by bad dreams or a brain too full of thoughts. Easing himself out of his bedroll, he pulled on his boots, reached for his vest and hat. He could hear Van's horse approaching as he returned to camp from the first watch. Since he was already awake, he'd take Carl's turn. He was saddling his horse when Van rode up and dismounted.

“What are you doing up?” Van asked.

“I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd exchange with Carl. How is everything?”

“So quiet I nearly fell asleep in the saddle,” Van said as he stripped saddle and saddlecloth from his horse. “I told Carl we didn't need a night watch.”

“It's always better to be safe,” Will said, thinking of Newt and trying to puzzle out his role in this bizarre drama.

“That's what Carl said.” Van tossed his bedroll on the ground and began looking for a patch of grass where he could picket his horse for the rest of the night.

Will swung into the saddle and rode out. His thoughts soon wandered from the cattle or the question of who was behind the latest attempt to drive Idalou and Carl off their ranch, to solving the riddle of his attraction to Idalou . . . and why she didn't appear to be equally attracted to him.

Always before, any woman who'd attracted his interest hadn't hesitated to return it. Yet Idalou had twice turned down his invitations to walk with him. He'd rescued her ranch from foreclosure and her from a flood, and she still looked at him with questions in her eyes. He'd kissed her, even told her he was thinking about marriage, and she'd effectively said she didn't want to hear about it. It wasn't just a blow to his ego. He was honestly confused. What did he have to do to make her believe he was serious about her?

Not until his horse lowered his head and began to drink did Will realize he'd been paying so little attention to what he was doing that his horse had waded into the shallow edge of the Clear Fork. Rustlers could have made off with half the herd and he wouldn't have known a thing. Isabelle had warned him that one day a woman would turn the tables on him. He'd joked that he was waiting for a woman like Isabelle, but he wanted a wife who was much more complacent.

His horse finished drinking, and Will guided him back up the bank to resume his circuit around the sleeping herd.

Was he seriously thinking about marriage? He hadn't thought so until the words came out of his mouth. As much as he admired and liked Idalou, he hadn't paid off the loan so she would marry him. He'd hoped she'd be more friendly toward him, but he hadn't seriously considered marriage. He didn't
have a home to take a bride to. Or an acceptable means of supporting her. Under no conditions would he continue to work as a cowhand for Jake after he got married. He'd expected to have many months, maybe even years, to make the transition before the question of marriage arose.

Was he really contemplating marriage? That was hard to say when Idalou wasn't sure she liked him enough even to be stepping out with him. In some ways it might have been easier if he hadn't paid off the loan. But if she'd lost the ranch, she probably would have refused to see him altogether. She had so much pride, she probably would have felt like a charity case. Now she was probably feeling uneasy because she was beholden to Will and had no way to pay him back. Odd that fear of being
considered
a charity case might have forced her to actually
become
one. People were strange, and it looked as if he was just as bad as the rest. Paying off a loan for strangers when he wasn't sure he would get his money back was a bad sign, but being attracted to the very kind of woman he'd wanted to avoid was a clear sign of trouble ahead.

He hoped it wasn't a case of rejection making him even more determined to succeed. That was a stupid reason to pursue a relationship. It would be much easier to give up and just be a cowboy. Cows didn't give a damn about him, and he wasn't much fonder of them.

As ready as he was to get back to eating at a table and sleeping in a bed, Will would have willingly put off returning to town. Idalou had never been so friendly, had never looked at him with such admiration in her eyes. Their ride from the ranch into town had given Will hope that she was getting over whatever it was that kept her from really liking him.

The four of them had driven the cows back to Double-L range. Afterward Carl had gone back to his camp, but Van was riding into town with them.

“I'm heading straight for the Swinging Door,” Van informed them when they reached the edge of town. “Are you going to join me?” he asked Will.

“I've got to check on my prisoners first.”

Though that was true, Will was grateful for an excuse not to have to drink with Van. He had tried to like Van, especially after Van had behaved so well over the last two days, but he simply didn't care for the man. Nor did he trust him. Even if he hadn't suspected Van had something to do with the attacks on the Double-L ranch, knowing he had gotten Junie Mae pregnant and then refused to take responsibility for the baby convinced Will that Van was not a man of character. Being young and scared could excuse Van's initial reaction, but he'd had time to recover and step up to his responsibilities.

“I'd better go straight to the dress shop,” Idalou said. “Ella probably thinks I've gotten lost.”

“I doubt it,” Van said. “I'm sure she knew I was in the posse to watch out for you.”

Will glanced at Idalou to see how she had taken that, but she didn't appear to be aware of Van's enormous ego.

“You want to stop a minute at the jail with me?” Will asked. “I'm going to try to get some more information out of the rustlers.”

“Do you think they'll say anything?” Van asked. Will thought he seemed a little uneasy.

“I don't know.”

“Maybe I'll come with you.”

Will had been looking forward to a few minutes alone with Idalou, but he resigned himself to waiting
until a better opportunity arose. The jail wasn't an especially good setting for romance anyway.

When they turned onto Main Street, everything looked as it always did, except for Junie Mae walking up and down in front of his office. Van pulled up his horse so abruptly, it caused Idalou's horse to run into Will's.

“I'm awfully thirsty,” Van said. “I think I'll have that beer first after all. If you find out anything, you can tell me when you come to the saloon.”

“I wonder what made him change his mind?” Idalou asked after Van rode off.

Will forced a laugh. “I guess he's more interested in beer than in rustlers.”

“I wonder why Junie Mae isn't at the shop,” Idalou said. “I hope nothing has happened to Ella.”

Will's suspicion was confirmed the minute his horse came to a stop in front of his office.

“My aunt found out,” Junie Mae said. “She told me to leave her home.”

The moment Will dismounted, she threw herself on him and burst into tears.

Idalou didn't like it when she saw Junie Mae throw herself at Will. She didn't like it any more when he led her inside the office and let her hang on him while she described the terrible scene that had followed on the heels of her aunt's discovery. She tried to be sympathetic, but it was hard.

“She called me a whore,” Junie Mae was telling Will through her tears and hiccups. “She said I'd disgraced the family name.”

“I'm sure she didn't mean everything she said.”

“She did,” Junie Mae insisted, crying harder. “She said women who thought that giving themselves up to a man's filthy lust was more important than their reputations ought to be forced out of respectable towns.”

Idalou wanted to shake her and tell her to get ahold of herself. Carrying on like the world was about to end wasn't going to fix anything.

“What did your uncle say?” Will asked.

“What could he say,” Junie Mae demanded hysterically,
“that wouldn't make Aunt Ella think he approved of what I'd done?”

Will had tried to get Junie Mae to sit down, to have a drink of water, but all she did was hang onto Will and cry. He would take her arms from around his neck, dry her tears, and then she would throw herself at him again. Idalou was feeling like she was the most hard-hearted woman in Texas, but she thought if Junie Mae threw herself at Will one more time, she'd tie her to a chair herself.

“He got just as mad as Aunt Ella when I wouldn't tell them who the father was,” Junie Mae said. “Then they asked if anybody else knew, and I told them you and Idalou did. She said she'd have all my things packed up and set out behind the house.”

Idalou hadn't been planning to stay with Ella much longer, but now she'd probably find her own few belongings tossed out into the street, too.

Junie Mae dissolved into tears again. Before she could throw herself on Will, Idalou took her by the arm and guided her to a chair. Once she sat down, Idalou made her drink the water Will had poured and handed to her. By the time Junie Mae had drunk it all, she was in control of herself.

“What am I going to do?” she asked, turning her tear-streaked face up to Will.

Idalou thought it was particularly unkind of Mother Nature to give the most beautiful women the ability to cry without getting puffy eyes or red splotches. Despite her crying jag, Junie Mae's skin looked like peaches and cream and her clear eyes glistened through the tears.

“I'm going to move you to the hotel,” Will said.

“I don't have any money.”

“I'll take care of everything.”

Idalou's throat closed so tightly she couldn't swallow.
Why would Will do that if he wasn't the father of the baby?
For the same reason he paid off your loan
, a voice inside her head shouted back at her. The man couldn't see a woman in distress without trying to help her, but he must know that if he took care of Junie Mae while she continued to refuse to divulge the name of the father, everybody would assume he was the responsible party.

“Idalou will stay with you while I reserve a hotel room for both of you,” Will said.

“I don't need a room,” Idalou said. “I'm going back to the ranch.” She didn't know what made her say that. She hadn't planned it.

“Everything has been washed away,” Junie Mae protested. “Where will you stay? Where will you sleep?”

“Van has promised to lend me his father's tent.”

“This is all my fault.” Junie Mae dissolved into tears once more. “If I weren't having a baby, my aunt wouldn't have thrown me out and you'd still have a place to stay.”

Idalou turned to Will, hoping he could do something to ease Junie Mae's guilt, but he was looking at her with a strange expression.

“You think that's my baby, don't you?”

Idalou was so shocked at his question, she couldn't respond right away. Then when she tried, the words got caught in her throat.

Unable to face the hurt in Will's eyes, Idalou turned to Junie Mae. “I don't think he's the father. It's my home, and I always intended to go back as soon as the ground dried.” She glanced at Will, but his expression was impossible to read. She turned back to Junie Mae. “I'm not trying to scare you, but if you let Will take care of you while refusing to name the father, people are going to start to believe he's the father.”

“But he's not,” Junie Mae insisted.

“I've already thought of that,” Will said to Idalou, “but if the people of Dunmore don't like it, they can find themselves another sheriff. I never wanted the job anyway.”

His look was both understanding and accusing. It all but spoke the words,
How could you believe I'd do something like that?