Charlene Sands (5 page)

L
ily waited outside the bedroom while Sheriff Singleton questioned Tyler. She sensed the lawman’s displeasure the second he stepped out of the room. Scratching his head, he called her over. “He doesn’t remember seeing or hearing a thing. It’s good he’s set up a watch around the place.”

“Do you think there’s danger?”

“Don’t rightly know. Maybe. Whoever shot him left him for dead. Didn’t steal anything. I’m hoping the culprit rode on out of our territory. Don’t want more bloodshed,” the sheriff declared. “I’ll ride out and have a look-see. Could be Tyler foiled an attempt to rustle cattle. It ain’t uncommon in these parts to see renegade rustlers.” The sheriff placed his weathered hat on his head. “You let me know if Mr. Kincaide remembers anything.”

Lily walked the man to the door. “I’ll do that.”

He stopped in midstride. “Oh, Miss Lillian, I almost forgot. This here wire came for you today. Charlie over at the telegraph office asked me to give it to you.”

Lily’s heart skipped a beat. A wire from Uncle Jasper!
She took the proffered paper, cushioning it in her hand as if it were the finest Austrian crystal. She stared down at the paper. “Thank you, Sheriff. I appreciate it.”

He tipped his hat, then faltered. “You, uh, gonna stay on at the ranch?”

“I promised to stay on until Ty— Mr. Kincaide doesn’t need my help any longer.”

The sheriff ran his fingers along the lapels of his vest nervously. “It’s not anybody’s business but yours, since you’ve been tendin’ an injured man and all, but—”

“But?” Lily leaned in, coaxing his confession.

“Well, there’s been talk. Folks don’t think it fittin’, you being the only woman out here with Mr. Kincaide and his men.” He cleared his throat. “Thought you should know.”

Lily expected as much, but for some unnamed reason she felt disappointment of a town who would judge her so harshly. “Some folks are mean-spirited, Sheriff. I couldn’t leave Bethann alone, now could I? With her daddy bleeding so terribly, we didn’t know if he’d see another day.”

“No, don’t suppose you could’ve. I heard tell you saved his life.”

“I don’t know about that for sure. Mr. Kincaide’s young and strong. I’m glad I could help. Now, Sheriff, I really must see to Bethann.”

“I’ll check back with you in a week or two.”

Lily watched the stout man mount his horse and ride out. Turning, she hurried back into the house. In the privacy of the room she’d been using, she clutched the paper in her hand and opened it slowly.

Deflated, Lily slumped onto the bed. This was not the news she’d anticipated. Her biggest fear was whether Jasper Brody would take her in. Now her problem was twofold, first locating the man, then hoping he’d allow her into his life.

She could send a letter to Cheyenne to track her uncle down. There’d be no telling if he’d arrived yet, but she could leave word to relay her message as soon as he did. Maybe, with luck, he’d already be settled.

Jasper Brody fought for the north during the war. Her father never forgave him for turning Yankee and spoke little of him. She’d known he held a respectable job in Chicago. Lily had always liked Uncle Jasper. He was a kind, loving man. He was…family. The only family she had left.

Lily remembered the last time Uncle Jasper came to visit their farm. It was right after the war. Their home was all but destroyed. The farm was in shambles. Her father begrudgingly allowed his brother to stay for two days. But his bitterness wouldn’t allow reconciliation.

When Lily’s mother received a small inheritance, she’d offered the money to her proud husband to help replant the crops, restore the house and put more than meager rations of food on the table. But her father had had other ideas. Disheartened by the devastation surrounding him, he’d set his mind on a new life; they’d
move off their farm and open Brody Mercantile, a small shop in the growing ranching town of Sweet Springs. It had been a good move. Her father had been happy until he’d lost his wife. Then came the gambling.

But Jonah had abruptly changed his mind about his brother. Lily now believed her father had known he was dying months earlier and had made his peace with him. She remembered a letter coming from Chicago. Her father had never spoken of it, but since that time Jonah had mellowed on the subject and his deathbed plea for her to locate Jasper had come straight from her father’s heart.

She choked back a sob. She missed her father. He was a sweet loving man, even if he did have a fondness for the gaming tables that had put her into this predicament. She’d made him a promise—one she’d sworn to keep. She had to continue her search for her uncle.

A tapping at her door startled Lily. Folding the letter and tucking it safely into her pocket, she rose from the bed to open the door slowly. A pouting face stared up at her. “Come in, Bethann.”

Bethann strolled in and plunked herself down on the bed. “Papa says I can’t leave the house.” The little girl dangled her legs off the edge. She swung them to and fro.

“That’s right. Remember, we talked about it yesterday.”

The girl hopped down from the bed. She wandered over to the dresser, touching everything. “I got nothin’ to do.”

“Well—” Lily rubbed her chin “—I can think up
a list of chores we can do. Dusting, washing, sweeping..”

Lily stopped abruptly when the child’s face contorted in fear. “Or…” Lily reached into her reticule and brought out a rag doll. “I can give you your birthday present.” She held out the doll. “Happy birthday, Bethann.”

“Th-that’s for me?” Bethann looked at the small rag doll as if she’d been given a fifty-dollar gold piece.

Lily placed it into her hands. “I made this for you days ago. I’m sorry, I forgot to give it to you.”

“She’s beautiful.” Bethann hugged the doll to her chest. “What’s her name?”

Lily smoothed away several wayward strands of Bethann’s hair, wondering how the child managed to always look so disheveled. She’d bathed and dressed her just hours ago. “That’s for you to decide. She’s yours now.”

“Thank you, Miss Lily. I love her!” Bethann plopped a wet kiss on Lily’s cheek.

“Oh, Bethann, I hoped you would.”

The scraps of calico sewed over cotton batting with button eyes and strands of yarn for hair, was nothing special, but Lily remembered how much her dolls had meant to her. Growing up without sisters and brothers was lonesome. Her dolls had always given her comfort.

“She’s got funny hair.”

Lily laughed. “I unraveled the yarn and brushed it with melted wax so the hair would stay curly.”

“Can you do that with my hair?”

“Dear heavens, no! But if you want curly hair, I do know a trick or two.”

“You do?” Bethann looked at Lily in disbelief.

“Yes.”

“Can we curl your hair, too?”

“I suppose.”

She began an inspection of Lily’s hair. “How long’s your hair?”

“Very long.”

“Why’d you keep it trussed up all’s the time?”

“To keep it out of my way.” To make her point, Lily pushed back a few more of Bethann’s strays. “Now, sweetie, are you gonna name her or do we call her Funny Hair?”

Bethann giggled, then a frown stole over her face. “Can’t rightly think of a name.”

“Play with her a while. Get to know her. A name will pop into your head. You’ll see.”

Bethann smiled, giving Lily a big hug before leaving the room.

Lily finished her chores early, read Bethann a bedtime story before tucking her in, and thought to check on Tyler one more time. He was improving, albeit slowly. It was hard to believe she’d been here five days. Her decision, once made, rolled over and over in her mind until she was sure it was the only solution. She needed to discuss it with Tyler, but wouldn’t approach him until he felt much better.

She tiptoed out of the child’s room, making her way down the long hallway. Tyler’s room was at the far end. Not wanting to wake him if he’d fallen asleep, she quietly turned the knob and let herself in.

The gun was cocked and ready. And staring her in the face. She screamed.

“Ah, hell, woman! You’ll wake the dead!”

“T-Tyler Kincaide, d-don’t you point that thing at
me! You about shocked ten years off my life.” Lily slumped against the door.

“Well, then, don’t go sneaking up on a body in the dark!” Tyler lowered his guard and his gun. He leaned back against the bed until his head met with the pillow.

“I didn’t want to wake you. I was being considerate.”

“Considerate, ha! Don’t you believe in knockin’?”

Lily bristled. “Oh! I’ve already explained, I didn’t want to disturb you. Who gave you the gun, anyway?”

“Wes. My orders. I am the boss of this ranch, Lily, and I’m no sittin’ duck. Someone wants me or one of my own, they’ll have a fight on their hands.”

Lily nodded. “I understand, but you could’ve pulled out your stitches, moving fast like that. Let me take a look.”

Sitting on the bed, she unbuttoned his shirt and glanced at the bandages. When she leaned in to take a better look, she felt the pins in her hair being tugged out. Her long tresses fell onto her back.

“What’re you doing?” she said, slapping at Tyler’s hand, knocking loose the pins he held.

“Just curious, is all. Doesn’t that knot hurt your head?”

“I’m used to it. Keeps the hair out of my way.”

“You have pretty hair.”

“It’s dirt brown and too thick.”

Lily closed her eyes when Tyler’s hand touched one of the strands, sifting it through his fingers. “Feels like silk,” he whispered.

Lily’s eyes snapped open. Nothing about her was soft or feminine. Tyler had to be teasing. And here she
sat, like a foolish ninny, on his bed with the soft glow of moonlight streaming in, almost believing him.

She bolted up. “The stitches are intact, for now. God willing and no more of your quick moves and you’ll be good as new in a week or two.”

“Then, where will you be,
Miss Lily?
”

Lily clasped her hands together and studied the floor for several moments. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest. Lily was forced to make a choice. Taking a deep breath, she met his questioning gaze straight-on. “I’ve decided to take you up on your proposal.”

T
yler’s mouth gaped open. His surprised expression must have jolted her because she backed up a step after making her declaration. He let his eyes roam over her, taking in her long form as she stood over him. He gave her credit for not turning away. Her gaze stayed fastened to his.

Marriage.

So it came down to that. Tyler resigned himself to it. It was best for Bethann. He’d seen over the days how Lily and his daughter got on. Bethann was already acting more the lady. She’d bound into his room along with the scrappy piece of calico she calls Miss Daisy, named no doubt after Lily, forever going on about how a lady does this and that.

With eagerness in her eyes, Bethann announced that Lily wanted to make her and Miss Daisy matching dresses. His daughter asked for permission, as if he hadn’t wanted the very thing for Bethann from the start.

And Lily managed to get her to do some chores. Easy ones, but Tyler was impressed. Under Lily’s watchful eye, Bethann brought him his supper one
day. She carried the tray to his room, carefully balancing it with her small hands, then set out the napkin on his lap. She boasted how she dusted the parlor and helped Lily with the wash.

Tyler was astonished—and grateful. He believed in the discipline, never quite knowing how to extract it from his impish child. He always believed in doing your fair share. It was what ranch life was all about.

An errant thought filtered in his mind. Lizabeth. Ranch life had been hard on her. In the end, it killed her. He never should’ve brought her here. God knows, if he hadn’t, she’d be alive today.

So now he was to take another wife. For Bethann, for the ranch. Tyler would be decent to her, but he’d not love her. He couldn’t. This time, marriage held no special meaning to him. It was a means to an end. So be it.

Tyler searched Lily’s face. She was a good woman. She’d saved his life. She deserved more than he could give. But he knew if she wasn’t in a desperate situation, she wouldn’t agree to his proposal.

“I’ll send for the preacher tomorrow.” He’d tried to keep the regret out of his voice and honestly didn’t know if he’d managed.

“No!”

Tyler winced at her sharp tone. “Lily, I’m not one for going to church, but if you want a church wed—”

“No, you don’t understand. I don’t want to get married. I meant I’d take you up on your job proposal. That is, if the offer still stands?”

“Y-yes. I, uh—” Tyler was baffled. Was this the same woman who made short work of telling him how improper living on the ranch without benefit of marriage would be?

“Good.” She breathed out a heavy sigh. “I’m asking thirty dollars a month. And I want to plant a garden.”

Tyler let it all sink in. He wasn’t getting married, but rather hiring an employee. He should be rejoicing. But it didn’t set right with him. Why was Lily doing this?

“I’ll pay you forty and you can have your garden.”

Her expression changed from courageous to plain curious. He’d offered her the same pay as his ranch hands.

“And what would you expect for your forty dollars a month, Mr. Kincaide?” He imagined the bristles on the back of her neck going up. She folded her arms across her chest and waited.

“You’ll do the household chores, keep the place clean, cook the meals, but more than anything, I want you to care for my daughter. She’s most important. There’ll be times she’ll get stubborn. She won’t want to do as she’s told. Got a wild streak in her that needs taming.”

“I’ve seen it. I think I can manage her. She’s a sweet child who needs guidance, is all.”

“She’s the only thing that makes life worth living. That and the ranch.”

Lily nodded. “I understand.” She hesitated, staring into his eyes. “Is that
all
you’ll be expecting?”

Even in the darkened room, Tyler saw a pink blush rise to her face, bringing a rosy hue to her cheeks. And the color brought out the blue in her pale eyes, making them look like a cloudless spring sky. Her silky waist-length hair draped over her shoulders. Tyler blinked, remembering his stolen glance days ago after the shooting, of two small, well-rounded breasts
hidden beneath a thin cotton chemise. His body hardened at the thought.

“’Less there’s anything more you might want to give, Lily,” he said softly.

“No.” It was her flat-out answer. Tyler knew as much. He sighed inwardly. What was he thinking? Lily, always the proper lady.

But for the briefest moment she seemed…

Nah! Tyler wasn’t going to let his imaginings get the best of him. It was probably time to visit the ladies at the Golden Garter. He’d harbor no such illusions about Miss Lillian Brody.

He was her employer now. It’d be best to remember that. He had nothing to offer her but a roof over her head and a paycheck at the end of the month. “Why’d you change your mind, anyway?”

Lily’s shoulders slumped. She seemed nervous, as if she were debating about telling him something. “My uncle moved west. It’ll be a while before I can locate him.”

“So you’re still planning on leaving?”

“Yes, in time. I don’t know when I’ll find him.”

“I need to know you’ll be here till after we drive the cattle north. Cattle drive starts at the end of summer.”

“That’s six months from now.”

Tyler fixed her an icy stare. “I can’t take Bethann with me.” The thought made him shudder. He’d tried that years ago with Lizabeth. The results were disastrous. “Do I have your word?”

“I’ve lived without seeing Uncle Jasper for fifteen years,” she said, letting out a heavy sigh, “I suppose I can wait six more months.”

With a nod, which was also a quick dismissal, he said, “It’s settled then.”

“I can get myself to the tub, Lily,” Tyler barked as they made their way down the hall.

Lily wished it were true so she wouldn’t have his arms wound around her as she supported his weight. His body, naked from the waist up, brushed against her time and again. Her foolish fantasies took flight, playing havoc with her mind. The man was injured. She was leading him to a tub of hot water. So why was she imagining his arms around her for other, more appealing reasons?

Maybe because she might have married the man today. Her heart skipped a beat when he’d offered to get the preacher yesterday. One beat, then reason set in. She couldn’t marry a man who didn’t want her, didn’t love her. She’d rather die an old maid than have him feel shackled to her.

Married to Tyler Kincaide?

The thought was as silly as he was, thinking he could make it to the tub by himself. The washroom was just steps away but today was his first day up. She’d watched as he tried to make it out the door of his room. His face grew sallow. Knowing his fierce pride kept Lily away, but when she saw him sway she raced over to lend him support.

“Hush now, Tyler. If you injure yourself, it’ll be another week before you’re good to anyone.”

He grunted, but she felt his resistance fade away as he leaned a bit more heavily on her. When they reached the washroom, Lily turned the knob and with both their weights pushed against the door to open it. Together they moved to the tub. That’s when Lily
floundered. They both stared down at the tub, Tyler with an eager gleam in his eyes. Lily knew she couldn’t leave him to his own devices. He’d never make it alone.

She pulled a large towel out of a cabinet and handed it to him. “Wrap this around your waist. Then, uh, you know.”

Tyler grinned. She was mortified, but couldn’t do a single thing about it. She turned around, hearing him grunt and groan himself out of his pants. Serves him right for wearing skintight trousers in the first place!

She heard his pants hit the floor, then a splash of water pooled by her feet.

“You can turn around now,” he said, amused. “I’m all the way in. Feels better than a whore in—uh—”

Lily snapped her head around, furious.

“Sorry, Lily.” He managed an apologetic smile and sank farther into the water. “This feels so damn good, is all. I’ve felt like a cow stuck in a mud heap for days now.”

She put both hands on her hips. “Smelled like one, too.”

“Now, Lily. Don’t be getting mean. I said I was sorry. Come here and wash my back. I can’t lift my arm any farther than this.”

He lifted his left arm out of the water midway to demonstrate, then let it plop back down.

Lily took a bar of soap and a washrag then kneeled down next to the tub. “Just this once, Tyler Kincaide. And we’ll never speak of it again.”

“Wash my hair, too, and I swear I won’t recollect a blasted thing.”

Lily held her breath. Maybe he’d forget, but she was certain she’d remember the sight of this man, taking
up the entire length and width of the porcelain tub, for the rest of her pitiful life. She’d close her eyes and see him there, naked, in all his magnificence, until her dying day. The image would haunt her. There would be no help for it.

She soaped up his back and neck with vigor, trying to erase the image from her mind. When he yelped, she slowed her pace.

Tyler gave her a sideways glance. “Lily, I know you got a gentle touch. Use it.”

“I’m not accustomed to bathing men, Mr. Kincaide, and you darn well know it.”

“You were gentle as a lamb when you were nursing me the other night.”

“That was different.”

“Why?”

“’Cause you couldn’t—you wouldn’t, I mean you weren’t… Oh, hush now.”

Tyler chuckled.

Lily remembered the feel of his warm flesh beneath her fingers as she’d cut away his bandages yesterday. Gingerly, she’d traced the outline of the wound, healing nicely now, under Tyler’s watchful gaze. She’d felt heat rise to her face as he studied her tending to his wound.

And now, bathing the man. Heavens! She thought her cheeks would stain pink from all the color they’ve received since she came to the ranch. It was scandalous, her touching him like this. Yet his helplessness called to her. She felt compelled to answer—to see to this strong man’s needs while in this weakened state.

She threaded her fingers into his dampened hair. Sunlight poured into the room, glistening on the wet strands, until they shone a brilliant blue-black. Using
the bar soap, she lathered his hair, massaging his scalp, which garnered an appreciative groan from him.

Lily smiled.

This is what it must be like to be married, she thought. This intimacy. This peace. Harmony in silence.

Regret of what will never be made Lily break the silence. “I’m planning on going to town tomorrow. I need to pick up my things at the boardinghouse.”

“Have Randy or Wes drive you in.”

“Bethann wants to come.”

“No.”

Lily stopped massaging his head. “Why not?”

“I don’t want her leaving the ranch without me. And I don’t think I’ll be in any shape to take you.”

“But she’s wanting a new dress. I promised her she could come along to pick out the material.”

Lily took up a bucket of rinse water.

“You’ll do fine to pick out the colors. Something bright and cheerful-like. And pick out some new material for yourself. Those drab colors you wear are downright…discouraging.”

The nerve of the man! She might not have a good deal of experience with men, but any woman would recognize an insult as blatant as that one. Appalled, she attested, “Well, a lady is not supposed to do any
encouraging,
Mr. Kincaide.”

“Ah, come on, Lily. I only meant that…well, I’m sick to death of all those gray and browns you wear.”

Lily doused the bucket of water over his head. A good portion hit its mark, the rest splattered onto the floor.

“Hey! Tarnation, Lily, what was that for?”

Lily wanted to stomp right out of the room. The man was so infuriating! Instead, to her chagrin, Tyler
Kincaide brought himself up out of the water and turned to face her.

Beautiful, came to mind first, before mortification set in. His longish hair was slicked back. Droplets of water rained down his shoulders onto his broad, muscled chest. She dared not view any lower, but an instant flash of memory reminded her of what he looked like below the waist. She’d seen him days ago, unconscious. Oh, Lord!

Lily closed her eyes and turned away.

“Hand me the damn towel, Lily.”

Lily did as she was told, groping for the towel then shoving it at him. He snatched it away and cursed vividly.

She heard him rustling around behind her and realized he must be struggling to put on his pants.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he snapped.

“Are you—”

“For heaven’s sake, Lily, the wall can’t be that interesting. Turn around.”

Lily turned around slowly but she let out a quick gasp when she saw Tyler’s face had become as white as winter’s first snowfall. The bath and all it took getting him in and out had drained all his strength. She rushed to his side.

“Put your arms around me, Tyler. I’ll get you back to bed.”

He threw all of his weight against her, but Lily kept her balance by spreading her feet wide. If she hadn’t they both would have gone down.

He grunted as they moved toward his room. “Best offer I’ve had in a month of Sundays,
Miss Lily.
”

Lily knew for a fact, he was not amused.

Stubbornness is what some might call it, but Tyler knew it was fierce determination that caused him to pry himself up from the bed and put on his pants. That and the sound of amiable chatter coming from the kitchen. It’d been a quiet day yesterday, with Lily in town. The only company he’d had was Bethann. And she had decided to whine about not being allowed to go along with Lily. Tyler’d finally had to feign fatigue to get his six-year-old to leave him be. He hated disappointing the child, but her safety had to be his first priority. She was of no mind to understand.

And now the sounds from the kitchen beckoned him. He lifted his left arm into the sleeve of his shirt. Sweat poured out of him and he winced from the pain it caused. But he’d be damned to spend one more wasted day in bed. He finished dressing, leaving his shirt dangling open, his feet bare, and headed to the kitchen.

Bethann was giggling, Wes was bringing in a bucket of milk, Randy was making cow eyes at Lily. And Lily, her face smudged with flour, was smiling, offering the smitten cowpuncher a handful of biscuits.