Texas Tender (8 page)

“Have you heard about the new sheriff?” Mara asked. She had dashed across the street oblivious to the two horses, a buckboard, and a wagon that could have run her down if the various men in charge hadn't scrambled to avoid her.

“I'm headed to meet him now.” Idalou didn't slow her pace.

“He saved my life,” Mara announced breathlessly. “Papa says I can marry him if I want.”

Idalou had often thought Mara was too immature to be a wife. But occasionally batting her eyes at Van Sonnenberg was a far cry from wanting to marry a man she'd just met. “I thought you were in love with Carl.”

Mara compressed her mouth and looked very much like a little girl about to throw a tantrum. “We had a fight. Besides, Papa says he'll never allow me to marry a poor man.”

“Carl wouldn't be so poor if your father wasn't trying to destroy us.”

“That's another thing,” Mara said, firing up. “I'm sick of you always blaming Papa for everything that happens. Even Carl doesn't think that.”

“That's because Carl is so much in love with you he can't see what's in front of him.”

Mara tossed her head. “Well, I don't think he's all that in love with me now. But it doesn't matter. I'm in love with the sheriff. Did I tell you he saved my life?”

“This makes the second time.”

“You should have seen him,” Mara continued, undaunted. “He knocked Newt down just like it was nothing. And he can draw faster than Newt.”

“Nobody can draw faster than Newt.”

“Will can. I saw him do it.”

“Will! Do you mean the sheriff's name is Will?”

“It's Will Haskins.” Mara sighed. “He's the most gorgeous man I've ever seen.”

“Lloyd Severns made Will Haskins sheriff?” Idalou was aghast. She couldn't imagine what had possessed him to do such a thing.

“Daddy and Mr. Davis did it, too. Daddy thinks he's the perfect man for me to marry.”

“He's just here to buy our bull.” Idalou was convinced somebody was playing a joke on her. No one would hire a man who just rode into town to be their sheriff, especially since Will wasn't going to be here more than a few days.

“I don't know anything about that,” Mara announced. “I just know he's coming to dinner tonight. After what I've told her, Mama can hardly wait to meet him.”

Idalou had no doubt Will would make a complete slave of Alma McGloughlin. Idalou had been so stunned by his looks, she could hardly talk. Why should Alma be any different?

“I'd love to stay and talk, but I have to see the sheriff,” Idalou said.

Mara went all stiff and prim. “If Carl's still there, tell him it's no use dropping by the house this afternoon. I'll be helping Mama get ready for Mr. Haskins.”

Idalou thought if Mara said one more word about Will, she'd scream, but fortunately, the girl said she had to buy some new ribbons for her hair. And look for a new bonnet. And her mother thought it would be nice to have something special for dessert, so Mara had been instructed to pick up some extra sugar and dried fruit. She hoped there'd be enough eggs for baked meringues.

“Then you'd better make your purchases and hurry home.”

Idalou was relieved when Mara rushed off to Andy Davis's mercantile. She headed toward the sheriff's office, her thoughts in turmoil. It was hard to believe Will Haskins was Dunmore's sheriff. Even if it was true that he'd outfought and outdrawn Newt, why would he want to be sheriff when he was going to be here for such a short time? She didn't have much respect for the good sense of most of the men she knew, but she had thought Andy Davis and Lloyd Severns were at least halfway intelligent.

Maybe it was the way her fast, energetic stride caused her heels to pound on the boardwalk or the frown on her face which she noticed when she passed the bakery window, but no one stopped to speak to her. It was just as well. She was in no mood for idle chitchat. She entered the sheriff's office to find Carl and Will getting ready to leave. The sheriff's badge gleamed on the latter's vest like the afternoon sun on the Texas horizon. It was impossible to miss.

“Lou, did you hear—”

“Lloyd couldn't wait to tell me,” Idalou said, cutting her brother off. “I think he actually enjoyed it.”

“Will's going to help me look for the bull.”

“I thought you couldn't interfere in local situations,” Idalou challenged Will.

“That was before I was sheriff. Now it's my
duty
to look into complaints.”

“I've got a long list. I doubt you'll be here long enough to get through it.”

“Lay off, Lou,” her brother said. “He hasn't been here long enough for you to get mad at him.”

“I made her angry in our first meeting,” Will volunteered.

“Damn, Lou, can't you meet any man without making him your enemy?” Carl asked, apparently completely out of patience with his sister.

“I'm not her enemy,” Will said. “She just didn't like something I said.”

“She doesn't like anything anybody says. Let's get out of here before she makes you so mad you won't help look for the bull.”

Idalou didn't know how the tables had been turned so quickly, but her own brother had done it. “I'd like to talk with the
sheriff
alone for a moment,” she said.

“Not on your life,” Carl stated flatly. “I'm gonna stand right here and listen to every word you say.”

It was probably best that Carl didn't leave. She was so incensed that Will was sheriff, convinced he'd done something underhanded to make Mara tumble in love with him, she would most certainly have said something imprudent. Still, she had a lot of questions, and she meant to get answers. Before she could ask even one of them, an altercation outside the office door drew their attention. Two girls were arguing over which one should open the door for the other.

“I've got the hot coffeepot,” one said. “I can't open the door without setting it down.”

“Well, I've got a plate of bread and butter as well as a cup,” said the other.

Carl got up, walked over, and pulled the door open. Two surprised young girls—Andy Davis's daughters Louise and Sarah—stood frozen, caught in mid-argument. Recovering quickly, both tried to pass through the doorway at the same time. Carl rescued the plate of bread and butter before it slid from Louise's grasp. Taking advantage of her sister's barely averted disaster, Sarah scurried forward, bearing the coffeepot like a symbol of victory. She sailed by Idalou without being aware of her existence.

“Mama sent you some fresh coffee,” she said in a voice that practically wilted from the brightness of the smile she bestowed on Will. “She made it black and strong just the way you like it.” The child stood there, holding the hot coffeepot out to Will just as if she expected him to take it from her with his bare hands.

“Set it down on the desk,” Will said. “And tell your mother I think she's wonderful to go to so much trouble for me.”

“It was no trouble at all,” insisted Louise, recovered from her momentary setback and pushing her sister aside. “She sent some hot bread and butter. She said you'd probably be hungry for a snack by now.” She preened and looked down on her younger and shorter sister. “I helped Mama make the bread.”

“I ground the coffee beans,” Sarah said, attempting without success to elbow her older sister aside.

“Mama said she'd send more coffee at lunchtime,” Louise informed Will. “She said Mrs. Wentlock can't make decent coffee to save her life.”

“Please thank your mother for me, but tell her I won't be in the office for the rest of the day, so I don't need any more coffee.”

“Where will you be?” the two girls asked in unison, dismay in their voices as well as their expressions.

“I've promised to help Miss Ellsworth and her brother see if we can find their bull.”

“Don't you want the coffee?” Louise asked.

“Don't you want the bread and butter?” Sarah echoed.

“I most certainly do. I'm sure Miss Ellsworth and her brother will enjoy it as much as I will.”

Neither girl appeared to like the idea of their offering being shared with anyone else. “Mama has already put her name down for supper tomorrow night,” Louise said.

“She said breakfast wasn't nothing compared to the supper she would cook for you,” Sara added.

Idalou didn't know whether to be angry at Mrs. Davis, her daughters, Will, or just be disgusted with every female who couldn't wait to make a fool of herself over Will. The man was incredibly good-looking, but that didn't make him the best catch in Texas any more than it made Junie Mae Winslow the most desirable female in Texas. Idalou metaphorically kicked herself for thinking of the woman Webb had been seeing when he died. She'd intended to put that woman out of her mind for good.

“You'd better be getting home before she starts to worry about you,” Will said. “Pretty girls like you are liable to get some young man so distracted he'd ride his horse right into the saloon.”

The girls, only average in looks, giggled delightedly. Rather than leave, they stood there, waiting expectantly. Understanding what they were waiting for, Will poured himself a cup of coffee, offered the cup to Idalou and Carl, who refused, then took a swallow himself.

“Perfect,” he announced. “Just how I like it.”

Meanwhile, Sarah buttered pieces of bread, which she offered to Will. He directed her offering to Idalou first. She declined, but Carl took a piece and so did Will. Both men declared it was the best bread they'd ever eaten. Pleased, the girls took their leave. Idalou was certain they'd carry the praise straight to their mother, who'd spend every minute between now and next evening planning a supper that would eclipse anything Dorabelle Severns had made. She was irritated all over again.

“That was disgusting,” Idalou announced as soon as the door closed behind the girls. “And you goaded them on with ludicrous compliments.”

“I thought it was funny,” Carl said, laughing. “Besides, the bread was really good.”

“I couldn't very well send it back or tell them I didn't like it,” Will said.

Idalou knew that, but it made her even madder that she cared what Will said or did. This fawning acceptance of a virtual stranger was in sharp contrast to the way the townspeople treated her and Carl, people they'd known for years, people who shared common interests, common dangers. “Why did you decide to be sheriff when you'll only be here a short time?”

“Lloyd and the others seemed desperate to have somebody fill in while they look for someone to take the job full-time.”

“What's the story about beating up Newt and outdrawing him?”

“He was too drunk to put up much of a fight,” Will said.

“He wasn't too drunk to draw his gun this morning,” Carl said. “Emmett saw the sheriff beat Newt. So did Mara. He did it right here in the jail.”

“With guns?” Not even an idiot would have a shootout in the jail, and she was certain Will Haskins was not an idiot.

“They weren't loaded,” Will explained.

“Do you know Mara thinks she's in love with you, that she's going to marry you? Don't you know how impressionable she is?”

“You didn't fall over yourself when you met me. Why should I think Mara would?”

“Because she thinks you saved her life.”

“The sheriff thinks she's momentarily bowled over by his looks,” Carl explained. “He says girls get really excited about something romantic, like a man saving them from danger. He says they turn the man into a hero and want to marry him.”

“He said all of that, did he?” Idalou asked before turning a menacing eye on the squirming sheriff.

“It didn't sound quite like that when I said it,” Will offered.

“I'm sure the gist was the same,” Idalou said.

“Probably,” Will admitted. “I'm sure you'd like to talk some more, but I promised Carl I'd help him look for your bull. I expect you have things to do.”

“Nothing as pressing as finding that bull. Lloyd says if I don't make the loan payment on time, he'll put the ranch up for auction.”

“Damn!” Carl said. “Why won't he give you more time?”

“He said he's done that too many times before, that it's not fair to his investors.” Idalou didn't like sharing this information with Will, but if he understood the urgency of the situation, maybe he would talk to Jordan.

“Give me time to get my horse,” she said. “I'm coming with you.”

Will supposed it was good that Carl could ignore the tension that practically vibrated in the air between him and Idalou. He chattered away with the simple pleasure of a young man who takes pride in his accomplishments. He had a love for the land that his sister didn't appear to share. Whereas Carl could be excited at the shape of a ridge or the sweep of open prairie, Idalou was more likely to point out that the land had been overgrazed.

“We're lucky to be on the edge where the soil changes from limestone clay to red or brown clay,” Carl was saying. “Because we have the darker clay, we have more substantial soil, which gives us better grass.”

“Little good it does when McGloughlin's cows come over and eat it up before our own cows can,” Idalou commented.

“We have the only dependable water, too.”

“At least McGloughlin's stock hasn't been able to drink it all up,” Idalou said.

They'd been following a beautifully clear creek whose pure spring waters sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight. Tiny fish darted to safety among the large stones that caused the water to rush and tumble with a satisfying murmur. A scattering of mature trees— pecan, ash, oak, and cottonwood—shaded the banks and created thickets along with mesquite, hackberry, and black willow that provided food and shelter for a wide variety of birds and small rodents. A cowbird strutted nonchalantly in the open, ignoring a hawk that circled overhead, depending on the large body of a three-year-old steer for protection while it fed on weed seeds or insects stirred up by the steer's hooves as he searched for grass among the cactus, sage, and various thorny bushes.