An Unwilling Husband (24 page)

Garret leaned his chair back on two legs and rested his hand on the back of her seat for balance. Every once in a while, his fingers would brush her, sending gooseflesh down her skin, which was more than fine with her. She finally gave in and leaned gently against his hand, earning her one genuine smile from him; one that lifted the corners of his mouth slowly like she’d earned it. The look in his eyes warmed her more thoroughly than any blanket could ever do. To keep that smile, she’d give everything she owned.

He put his hat on the table and the rest of the crowd quieted down. “As you know, we’re missin’ some cattle. Hell, we’re missin’ a lot of cattle. We know it was most likely Wyatt and his men that thieved them in the first place. I’m assuming they’re trying to make it harder for us to save this place so they can buy us out.” Garret clomped the front legs of his chair onto the wooden floor and leaned forward. “Now, you all know what happened the night Maggie was taken, and the sheriff said he can’t do nothin’ about it without evidence linking those men we killed to the Jennings. So the way I see it, we’re going to have to come up with our own justice.”

Wells, usually so quietly easygoing he was borderline somnolent, slammed his fist on the table. Lenny jumped and Cookie muttered something, likely a Comanche curse if his tone was any indication. Burke was the only one who didn’t react in anger. Instead, his eyes swam with grim acceptance.

“I’m not talking about killin’ em,” Garret clarified. “I don’t want nobody in here facing the law, you hear? But the way I see it, best way to get at ’em is to save this place against their best efforts. Now, I’ve heard tell the Jennings’ are buying up old Whitfield’s property. They’ve been coming after him for a long time, and he finally folded.”

“Who’d you hear this from?” Wells asked.

“From Whitfield himself. He’s mad. Madder than mad. They’re cheating him bad out of his land but they’ve been threatening him enough that he’s scared. He says the Jenningses assume his cattle come with the property, but they don’t. They aren’t included in the legal documents. He said he is willing to sell them to us cheap if I can get up there in the next few days and drive them back myself.”

“Well I don’t expect that’ll make Jennings overly happy, you buying them cattle right out from under him,” Burkes said with a grin.

Garret’s narrowed eyes contradicted his shallow smile. “’Spect it won’t. It’ll replenish the cattle they’ve stolen from us and almost double our breeding stock for next year. If this works, it’ll give us a better shot at keeping this place, though. And if it keeps Clint up at night, all the better, I say.”

“So who rides with you?” Cookie asked. “Whitfield has a decent herd. It’ll take three at the least.”

“Agreed. That’s what I wanted to decide tonight. I want to ride out at first light.”

“Who will stay to look after the cattle here?” Maggie asked.

Cookie spoke up. “Me and Wells will watch the cattle here.”

Garret looked up in surprise, but Cookie continued. “With me and Wells, we could post just two people as lookouts. The drive is at least a three person run, better if there are four, and I’m not comfortable with the women sitting up at the house unprotected.”

Garret shook his head slowly back and forth. “I’m not comfortable bringing Maggie out there.”

Maggie couldn’t help it. Her feelings were hurt. Garret advanced at a snail’s pace, but going backward was unacceptable to her, at this point. “I could learn to drive.”

Garret grabbed her hand under the table and squeezed it, shocking her into silence.

“Maggie, it isn’t that I think you can’t drive. I just don’t know how dangerous this is going to get and after what happened the other night, surely you can see how I wouldn’t want you out in the open again.”

“She is safest with you,” Cookie interrupted. “The Jenningses won’t know what you are doing or where you are. If you stay here or with the cattle, they know exactly where you are. Where Maggie is. She is a target, and until she isn’t anymore, your woman is safest with you and on the move.”

Garret was quiet for a few minutes, and she and Lenny stood to ready dessert for the silent men. “All right,” he said finally. “But you don’t leave my sight.”

Maggie nodded and brought him a plate, along with one for herself. “Fine with me. Kidnapping twice in one week doesn’t sound that fun. Plus, I still have cactus needles from the last go-round.” She tried to smile at him, but he looked troubled as he stared at her healing arms.

“You and Lenny be ready first thing,” he said. “Cookie and Wells and I will watch the cattle tonight. Lenny, you’re in the big house with Maggie again. Burke, I need you rested, so get some sleep. I’d feel safer with you in the big house too. You can take the loft.” He waved a hand at the crude ladder in the back of the house. “I’ll come back at dawn and we’ll head out.”

Chapter 16

Dawn couldn’t come soon enough. Maggie tossed and turned all night in her worry for the men watching the cattle. Especially Garret. Or maybe, after just one night, the absence of his warm body lying beside her had spoiled her. When she’d risen and made her way downstairs, if Lenny’s exhausted countenance had anything to say, she’d had a bad night as well. Lenny’s problem likely lay in the fact that Burk slept under the same roof. Too close and too far for comfort.

Everyone had risen before dawn to finish packing what they would need for the three day journey. One day to get to the Whitfield’s ranch, and two to drive the cattle to the Lazy S. Since Cookie, the resident trail cook, wasn’t going, it was up to Lenny and Maggie to pack what they would need in the way of sustenance. Maggie only knew of Cookie’s beans and ham concoction, so after packing for that, she was lost. Thankfully Lenny had watched Cookie long enough, she knew what else they would need.

Dented metal spoons and matching, dinged-up metal bowls fit nicely into a leather pouch. Spices in tiny shakers, and small pots for cooking rough went in the saddlebags, and Lenny wasn’t shy about loading Buck with weaponry from the gun rack near the front door.

Maggie only packed an extra shift and pair of stockings. She wore her moccasins, and the burgundy dress she had on would have to do for the entire trip. She pinned her hair tightly though Lenny would probably have to braid it for the rest of the trip, as she had no mirror to travel with.

Garret showed up before the first rays of light streaked the sky. He packed quickly and loaded his and Burke’s larger saddlebags with the food, extra rifles, ammunition and sleeping rolls. Four canteens were filled, and they were off just as the sky turned a deep purple gray.

Maggie patted the saddlebag with the small bundle of letters she was to send if they chanced through town. She had already sent two bundles to her uncle William, but he would love to hear from her as often as possible.

Buck was excited and jittery after having not seen her in a couple of days. Her buckskin gelding looked like a new horse. He’d lost a noticeable amount of weight and laziness, and made a fine horse for her and the long trail ride. Along with Lenny’s mare, he still sported braided mane and tail, and though Garret rolled his eyes when he saw them, he didn’t say anything rude, as was his normal response. Maybe he really was trying. One could hope.

The ride into town was a hushed one. Unable to speak for the others’ silence, for her it was just nice to get lost in the beauty of a Texas morning. That kind of sanctuary in the magic hour before others woke required quiet reverie.

At the edge of town, Garret told them he intended to talk to the sheriff, let him know what had been going on with the Jenningses and about the cattle transaction in case anything happened to them. He would give the law a place to look for blame if their ragtag little group turned up as corpses.

The threat of very real danger turned her cold inside, so she put honest effort into thinking on anything else. When the group pulled their horses into town, her thoughts were firmly planted on Uncle William, who would have surely received her first bundle of letters by then. She wished he could see her now. Would he like this new person she had turned out to be? She hoped so.

Burke escorted Lenny and her to the Post near the train station while Garret headed for the jailhouse to find the sheriff. Maggie posted the letters to her uncle and waited patiently as the clerk behind the desk checked for any addressed to her.

Her heart beat faster, the longer the man shifted through the drawer of letters behind the counter. How very much she wished for written word from her uncle. Any news on how he fared would be reading material to be taken in repeatedly for the next few days.

Her disappointment at the slight and sympathetic shake of the man’s head was so potent, it took her a moment to recover enough to thank him and leave the small building.

What could her uncle’s delayed correspondence mean? They’d parted on good terms, and he’d promised. William Hall was a noble and honorable man who never broke his word.

She met Burke and Lenny outside, and after meeting up with Garret, they rode out of town, in the opposite direction of the Lazy S. The Whitfield land was the ranch directly in front of the Jennings’s territory, and the thought of riding ever closer to the snake den brought an uncomfortable flutter to her stomach.

Garret dropped back and rode alongside her. “No letters from him then? Your uncle?”

“No, not yet.”

“And you’re worried?”

“A little. It’s just, he is the only real family I have. Besides Aunt Margaret, of course, but she wouldn’t claim me. And he promised to write me the day I left for Rockdale, and send letters frequently. It is an odd feeling, being cut off from the only family you have left. It is…unexpected.”

“Well what about your aunt, Margaret? I know you don’t think too kindly of her but surely she can’t be that bad. Why do you say she wouldn’t claim you?”

What was it, truly, that made Aunt Margaret loathe her so? “When I was a child and new to Boston, I thought it my red hair that offended my aunt so, for she spoke of the atrocious color of it often. And my mother, whom I loved, God rest her soul, never spoke against her cruel tongue, so I thought what my aunt spoke must be truth. As I grew older, I started to realize the unfortunate events that resulted in my birth and my mother and her family’s fall from London Society. I think my aunt blamed me, for she never had an unkind word for my mother, whom I guess Aunt Margaret saw as my victim.”

Garret drew his eyes to Lenny and Burke, who rode amiably some distance back to give them privacy. “Your red hair don’t bother me none. Never did,” he said.

Lips pursed, she tried to control the heat creeping up her neck, peering straight ahead lest he see her so affected by one compliment from his mouth. “It was easier when I got older because the color darkened, and one could only see the obvious red when I was in full sunlight. Her complaint then became how plain I was.” She wrenched her inflection to a high pitched and crotchety old voice. “Margaret Flemming, you are certainly the plainest child I have ever lain eyes on. Not only are you a bastard child with no natural talents or appeal, your homely face has voided any chance you had at attracting a wealthy husband stupid enough to ignore your unfortunate breeding.”

Laughter pealed from her at her impression but Garret didn’t seem to find it funny. Surely he would if he knew how accurate she’d been.

“Did you have an escape?”

“What do you mean?” she asked as she wiped water from the corners of her eyes and tried to be serious like his tone required.

“Did you go to school? Have friends? Travel?”

“No. Aunt Margaret thought it improper for me to go to finishing school with other children for fear of me leaking our family secrets into Boston Society where she had etched out an esteemed position for herself. She hired governesses and convinced my mother I was to stay in the manor as much as possible to avoid gossip. But I excelled in reading and literature, and I found my escape in writing. My aunt thought it frivolous for a woman to write more than letters, and told me so often. Whenever I had a moment out of her sight, though, I wrote. My mother was always weak in body and mind, but she thought I should keep at it if it made me happy. She didn’t say it out loud, but sometimes she read my short stories and seemed proud. She told me once that sometimes courage skipped over a mother and fell into a daughter.”

“I went to school.”

“I know. Roy said you went to finish your schooling in Georgetown.”

“I mean, that was my escape.”

“Oh, I see. I always wanted to go off for school. Well, what did you study for, then?”

Garret gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Believe it or not, I was in schooling to be a lawyer. In fact, the sheriff has been at me to be a lawman since I got back. I reckon if I can’t save the ranch, he’ll get his way.”