Heart of a Texan (13 page)

Maybe she was the one who was out of step. It was time she stopped trying to understand Nate and accept him at face value. It was also time she looked to herself. Why was she falling in love with Nate when it was the last thing she wanted to do?

Much to her dismay, she didn’t have an answer. Saying he was attractive and likeable weren’t reasons an intelligent woman could accept. What was it about Nate that made him different from any man she’d ever met?

Everybody liked him. The other ranchers put a lot of weight in his opinion even though they didn’t agree with him. Her father had liked him even though they’d argued every time they met. It was more than being a rich man who could afford to pay his cowhands well and treat them fairly. It was more than the sense of humor that occasionally peeked out from behind his somber facade. It was more than his half-smile that had etched itself in her memory. It was more than his courage and forbearance in facing his injury. It was more than the secret in his past that drove him to hunt diViere at the expense of his personal happiness.

That was not a lot to know about a man when she looked at it objectively, but it had been enough to reach out to something inside her that up until now had lain dormant. She could argue as long as she wanted, but she was falling in love with Nate, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. All that she could do was decide on a course of action and take it regardless of the emotional cost.

The night wasn’t looking so beautiful anymore. Coming to Texas against her wishes had been a snap compared to what she faced now. This time she didn’t have her father to make the decision for her. She would have to do it all alone.

Suddenly, she was aware of the sound of a horse walking by her house. That wasn’t unusual, but its gait was. Either the horse had escaped, or its rider had a reason for wanting his presence to go unnoticed. Deciding to leave her lamp in the kitchen where it wasn’t visible from the road, she walked to the end of the porch and entered the parlor. She hurried to the window and looked out in time to see a horse and rider go out of her line of sight, down the lane that led to the barn, the dam and the low hills beyond. She was certain the rider didn’t intend to go that far. She raced to her room, threw on a cloak over her pale yellow dress, and grabbed her father’s shotgun on the way out. She meant to find out who the rider was and what he was doing on her land when every other man within twenty miles was at the dance.

Once outside, she hurried down the lane. Sounds coming from the other side of the barn indicated the man had gone inside. Moving as quickly as she could without giving her presence away, she reached the corner of the barn and peered around. His horse was not in sight. She didn’t know what the man was doing there, but she figured he wasn’t going to destroy the barn as long as his horse was inside. She decided to wait.

A few minutes later, the man left the barn, a bedroll over his shoulder, and turned toward the cornfield.

“What are you doing here?” Roberta demanded.

When the figure turned around, she could see it was Webb. At the sound of her voice, he must have jumped a foot. His bedroll went flying as he dropped to a crouch and drew his gun. Roberta could see his body relax and the thunderstruck expression fade from his face when he recognized her. “What are you doing out here this time of night?”

“I live here. What are you doing in my cornfield?”

The explanation was slow coming. “The boss doesn’t want you to be here by yourself, so the three of us take turns sleeping here each night.”

“I’m not in any danger. The attackers were after the dam.”

Webb holstered his gun and picked up his bedroll. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but you don’t pay our salary. As long as the boss wants us here, we’ll stay. You ought to be in bed. The boss said you had a headache.”

“Did he tell you to leave the dance?”

“No, ma’am. It was my turn.”

So she’d ruined another person’s night. “You can’t be comfortable with just a bedroll. Let me bring you something from the house.”

“I don’t want to get too comfortable, ma’am. I might not hear something I ought to hear.”

“What if it rains?”

“I can sleep in the barn.”

“The ground is damp.”

Webb grinned. “My bedroll will keep me dry even if it rains.”

There didn’t seem to be anything more to say, but she intended to speak to Nate as soon as she got a chance. “I don’t want to get you in trouble with your boss, but come up to the house for breakfast.”

“Thanks, ma’am, but one of the boys brings me breakfast.”

“Which will be cold by the time it gets here. Come up to the house, or I’ll take it to you in the cornfield. That ought to give your boss something to think about.”

“It sure would. About how quick I could clear off after he fired me.”

***

Nate had no doubt he’d been responsible for Roberta’s headache. He’d left the dance shortly after she did. It had been a struggle to wait until morning to speak to her and make sure she was okay.

“Sure would be nice if you would help us.” Grady rode alongside his boss. “We’d get done a lot faster. I’m surprised Russ isn’t raising a fuss because we can’t help him.”

Nate had wondered, too, but he didn’t worry about Russ as long as the man did his work. “I’ve got business in town.”

When Nate pulled his horse to a stop in front of the house and dismounted, the boys continued toward the barn. The door opened before he could knock.

“I had a feeling I’d be seeing you this morning.” Roberta didn’t look like she’d had a lot of sleep, but she was smiling at him.

“I was worried about you.”

“I’m fine, but I know you won’t take my word for it, mount your horse, and ride away.”

He smiled back. “It’ll take more convincing than that.”

“I have time for one cup of coffee. Then I have to go to work.”

He followed her into the kitchen. It amused as well as heartened him to see two cups set out on the table. She had not only expected him. She’d prepared for him.

Roberta reached the coffee pot and started to pour. “I was afraid you’d come by last night. I’m grateful you didn’t.”

Nate tasted his coffee while he decided whether it was wise to be honest. He decided against employing pretense. “I did come by. When I saw you come back to the house after stalking Webb with a shotgun, I figured it would be best to wait until morning to see you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” She raised an eyebrow. “How did you know I wouldn’t be angry?”

“I didn’t, but I’ll never lie to you, not even about little things. Between two people who love each other, no lie is little.”

Roberta returned the coffeepot to the stove and sat down opposite Nate. Her mood was darker. “I haven’t said I loved you.”

“I know, but I don’t want to give you a reason not to.”

She didn’t look any happier. “Are you sure you love me, that it’s not some reaction to me having taken care of you?”

“My old boss’s wife would have done the same, and I’ve never had a single romantic thought about her. And, in case you’re wondering, she’s almost as beautiful as you.”

Roberta opened her mouth to speak, but a vigorous pounding on the front door interrupted her. “I wonder what the boys want.”

But it wasn’t one of the boys who strode into the house when Roberta opened the door. It was Prudence, and she wasn’t happy to find Nate ensconced in the kitchen.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Pretty much what you’re doing here.” Nate made no attempt to hide his irritation. “Making sure Roberta is okay.”

“I’m here now, so you don’t need to stay.”

“But I want to stay.”

“Then you can go help with the barn.”

“The doctor won’t let me lift anything heavier than a coffee cup for at least another week.”

Prudence eyed him with dislike as well as distrust. “I don’t believe Dr. Danforth would say such a thing.”

“Would you believe he asked me when I was going to propose to Roberta?”

Prudence looked scandalized. “Certainly not!”

“Well, he did. You can ask him.”

Nate was more anxious to see Roberta’s reaction than he was to hear Prudence’s response, but she had left the kitchen to respond to another series of knocks. He was disgusted, but not surprised, when Boone Riggins followed her into the kitchen.

“What are you doing here?” Boone demanded.

Nate thought it was obvious. “The same as you and Prudence.”

“But you aren’t engaged to marry her.”

“Neither are you.” Nate got to his feet. There was nothing he could accomplish with Prudence and Boone regarding him like an interloper. “I’m glad to know you’re feeling better,” he said to Roberta. “I’d like to stay longer, but I have business in town.”

“I’ll see you out,” Roberta volunteered.

“I’m sure he can find the door on his own.” Roberta ignored Boone’s remark.

“Thanks for worrying about me,” Roberta said when they reached the front door, “but I really am fine today.”

“I hope you’ll be able to say the same after those two finish arguing over you.”

Roberta laughed. “I’ll retreat to the fields. I doubt they’ll follow me there.”

Nate’s answering laugh disappeared. “Are you
really
okay? I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Then why did you come to the dance?” The look he gave her said more than words ever could. “I think you already know the answer.” He bent down and kissed her lightly on the mouth. “And it won’t change.”

Roberta stayed in the doorway while Nate mounted his horse and rode away. She didn’t want to go back to the kitchen and the inevitable questions. She was at a crossroads and didn’t know which way to turn. Of one thing she was certain. Neither Prudence nor Boone could give her the answers she needed.

***

Nate told himself he was an idiot to be riding around in the middle of the night. Nothing was going to happen to Roberta just because he’d had a bad dream. Still, he couldn’t lie in bed for the next several hours, waiting for dawn, while trying to think of a new excuse to ride over to her farm for the fifth day in a row. This way he could see for himself that she was alright and be back in bed without anyone knowing he’d gone slightly crazy over this woman.

Nothing was sillier than trying to sneak out of the house, saddle his horse, and ride away without anyone hearing him.
It
was
his
ranch!
He could do anything he wanted without having to justify it. Still, he was surprised he’d succeeded. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn the cowhands were away on a drive.

Maybe he would check on whichever one of the boys was sleeping out at Roberta’s tonight.
Stop
trying
to
think
up
excuses. You’re not responsible for getting Caleb out of scrapes, so you don’t have to explain everything you do.
Odd how difficult it was to change the pattern of a lifetime. From his parents, to his commander during the war, he had had to provide an explanation for his actions. At least Cade gave him credit for being able to think for himself. His parents never had whenever it involved Caleb. And since Caleb clung to Nate like a second skin, everything he did involved his brother. That had never felt like a burden while Caleb was alive. Since then it had weighed on him like a death sentence.

Nate liked riding at night. It had been one of the reasons he had volunteered for the Night Riders. There was a peace and serenity about the night that couldn’t be found during daylight. It gave a man time to think about himself and how he fit into the world around him. To think about what he wanted. What he didn’t want. What he must do, and what he must avoid at all costs.

And when he decided he
must
do what he knew he should not, he had time to calculate the costs.

Many years earlier he had calculated the cost of chasing Laveau and had decided that his death would be an acceptable price to pay. It would avenge his brother’s death, it would fulfill his promise to his mother, and relieve him of the burden of failure.

Now he’d fallen in love with Roberta, and the price for bringing down Laveau seemed too great. How could he look toward a future with Roberta knowing his past would destroy it?

His horse shied when a jackrabbit crossed the trail quickly followed by a gray fox. How easy it was for the quiet to lull him into thinking the rest of the world was asleep.

The air felt cool and dry against his skin. Limited light from the tiny slice of moon cast the surrounding prairie in shades of gray and silver. Occasional pinpoints of brownish red revealed the presence of resting cows with their calves, or small animals that preferred shadows to bright sunlight. For a long time he’d felt the same. He didn’t want get to know people or let them get to know him. He felt removed from the community around him. He had liked that, but getting to know Roberta was causing that to change.

He had business to conduct at the bank. He intended to drop by Boone’s saloon. He might even eat at his restaurant. And despite Boone’s advice, he intended to go to church. Now that he had a reason to remain in Slender Creek, he wanted to be part of the town. His position as owner of the biggest ranch in the county gave him a—

His thoughts snapped like a thread. There was a light coming from the direction of Roberta’s farm, the kind of light that could only be caused by a fire.

Nate set his horse to a hard gallop, but that couldn’t stop the questions from springing up like mushrooms after a rain. Who could be angry enough at Roberta to burn the barn they’d just rebuilt? That indicated a kind of hatred he found difficult to attach to any rancher he knew. Who was on duty tonight? Was it Carlin? Had he been able to make sure Roberta was safe? Had people from town seen the fire? Were they already at the farm?

Cutting the corner, Nate drove his horse from the main trail to the lane leading toward the Tryon farm. When he did, he saw a sight that nearly caused his heart to stop beating. It wasn’t the barn that was on fire. It was the farmhouse itself.

Was Roberta still inside?

Unable to drive his horse any faster, Nate endured the agony of terrible visions that had their origin in the scenes of horror he’d witnessed during the war. This couldn’t be happening to Roberta. He wouldn’t let it.

He vaulted off his horse before the animal had come to a halt. The porch was consumed in flames, making it impossible to reach the front door. The fire had caught on the corner of the house where Roberta had her bedroom. Without breaking stride, he ran around the side of the house and circled to the kitchen at the back. The fire had taken hold on the back porch, but it hadn’t started on the walls. It smelled like the fire had been started with coal oil. The flames were high but not as hot as they would have been had the wood floor of the porch started to burn.

Nate spied a bucket sitting on the ground next to the well. He drew up a full pail of water and poured it over his head. A second bucket thoroughly soaked his clothes. Taking a deep breath, Nate dashed through the flames.

The kitchen door was locked. Without hesitation, Nate threw himself against the door. It held. The contact sent a sharp pain shooting through his shoulder that was not yet fully healed. Blocking out the pain and fear of reopening the wound, Nate threw himself against the door, but it still held. The fire had not caught his water-soaked clothes, but the hot air was burning his lungs. Unable at that moment to appreciate the sturdiness of the house, he reared back and hit the door next to the lock as hard as he could with his foot. The door splintered, but it still held. Nearly exhausted and unable to breathe, Nate hit the door once again.

It gave, and he stumbled into the kitchen. Smoke had settled over the floor. For the moment, he was able to breathe, but the open door gave the fire access to a fresh supply of oxygen. He would have less than a minute before the smoldering wood burst into flame.

Nate had never been in this part of the house, but he guessed Roberta’s bedroom had to lie ahead. He pushed through to the dining room and into a hall nearly choked with smoke. Opening the door in front of him, he found himself in her bedroom.

She lay in the bed without moving. Falling back on his years of combat experience, Nate pushed aside the fear that threatened to paralyze him. He wouldn’t let his mind dwell on the possibility that Roberta was dead. At this moment, he had to get her to safety, or both of them would perish. He threw the covers aside and scooped Roberta into his arms. Despite the pain to his shoulder, he wrapped her in a blanket to protect her from the flames, and ran from the bedroom through the dining room to the kitchen. The heat had steamed most of the water from his clothes, but there was still enough moisture to protect him as he plunged into the flames that engulfed the back porch.

He raced away from the house and almost ran into a man who was rounding the corner of the house. “Is there anybody else inside?” the man asked.

“No.” He’d given the boys strict instructions never to sleep inside. He found a patch of grass well away from the house and lay Roberta down.

“That’s Roberta, isn’t it?”

Nate didn’t bother to answer the obvious. He was more concerned that she didn’t seem to be breathing. The fire hadn’t reached her room, but more people died from smoke inhalation than from the flames. Unsure of what to do, Nate sat her up and pounded on her back, but she didn’t respond.

“Is she dead?”

Desperate for a way to get smoke-free air into her lungs, he put his mouth to Roberta’s and pushed air from his lungs into hers. Pulling back, he took another deep breath, placed his mouth over hers, and exhaled.

“Why are you kissing her?”

The woman sounded angry, but Nate didn’t stop to explain. He pushed another lungful of air from his body to Roberta’s. Much to his relief, she went into a spasm of coughing. Putting his arm under her shoulder, he lifted her into a sitting position.

“What have you done to her?” the woman demanded. “She doesn’t look like she was hurt.”

“I had to clear her lungs of smoke,” Nate explained.

As Roberta’s coughing grew less severe, her attention focused on the fire. Her expression showed shock followed by horror that turned to anger. “They tried to kill me.”

“Who?” the woman asked.

“The ranchers.” Roberta went into a spasm of coughing.

“I don’t think a rancher would do this,” Nate said. “It’s too cruel.”

“Then who?”

He didn’t have an answer. By now more than a dozen men had arrived from town. They were doing their best to put out the fire, but Nate doubted they could save the house.

“How did the fire start?” the woman asked Nate.

“I don’t know.”

“You weren’t here?”

It was too dark to see the woman’s expression, but Nate wondered if she thought he’d spent the night in Roberta’s bed. “I was out riding because I couldn’t sleep.”

“Did you see anyone?” Roberta asked.

“No. Once I realized the house was on fire, I couldn’t think of anything else.”

“Where’s Carlin?”

Nate was ashamed to admit he hadn’t thought about the boy.

“He would have been here in time to get me out of the house if something hadn’t happened to him.” Roberta struggled to her feet.

“You’re not strong enough to wander around the farm.”

Roberta was unsteady but determined. “There’s nothing you or anybody can do to save the house. Even if there were, finding Carlin is more important. I’ll show you where they bed down. “

Nate hoped nothing had happened to the boy. He was young, but he had impressed Nate by his loyalty and his readiness to tackle any task.

Nate put his arm around Roberta’s waist. “Lean on me. You’re still weak.”

Nate wasn’t so caught up in the events unfolding around him that he was beyond being affected by Roberta’s nearness. The feel of Roberta in his arms was intoxicating. He didn’t know why the mere presence of this woman could affect him so strongly, but he didn’t waste time denying that it did. He would have given anything to sweep her into his embrace and kiss her until both of them were powerless to kiss again.

Roberta led him through a field of tomatoes into a stand of corn. “Carlin said he could watch the house from here without being seen.”

It didn’t take long to discover why Carlin hadn’t come to Roberta’s aid. He was still in his bedroll, but the position of his body made it clear he wasn’t sleeping. Breaking loose from Nate’s hold, Roberta stumbled forward and dropped to the ground next to Carlin.

Nate didn’t have to get that close to know Carlin was dead. The gaping wound at his throat told how he’d died. Who would do something like this? What about Roberta’s farm, or Roberta herself, could be so important?

“Who could do that to a boy who never hurt anyone?” Roberta’s anguish was evident in every word.

Nate knelt next to Roberta and put his arm around her. “I don’t know, but rest assured I will find out who did this.”

“We can’t leave Carlin here.”

“I’ll get somebody to take his body into town.”

“I’ll stay with him while you go make the arrangements.” Roberta looked down at Carlin. “He was here to protect me. I can’t leave him alone now.”

Nate was uncomfortable leaving Roberta, but he knew she wouldn’t be budged. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. In the meantime, I’ll send someone to stay with you.”

“I don’t need anybody to protect me.”

Nate thought it was quite clear that she
did
need protection. Somebody was willing to do anything to achieve his objective.

By the time he got back to the house, it was apparent the home couldn’t be saved. At that moment, a buckboard was driven into the yard with reckless speed. The horse was jerked to a halt, and Boone Riggins leapt to the ground. He rushed from one man to the next asking, “Where is Roberta?”

Nate didn’t know whether Boone truly loved Roberta, or just thought he did, but he wasn’t willing to see anybody suffer needlessly. He had to put himself squarely in Boone’s path before he got the man’s attention. “She’s all right. I got her out in time.”

“What are you doing here?”

Was jealousy a stronger emotion than fear? “I was taking a night ride and saw the fire.”

“Where is she?”

“With Carlin’s body.”

“Who’s Carlin?”

“A cowhand I had watching Roberta. Whoever started this fire killed him.”

Boone reeled in shock. “You mean somebody intended for Roberta to die in the fire?”

“It looks that way.”

“Where is she? I’m taking her to town right away.”

Nate wasn’t ready for a showdown with Riggins, but it was time Riggins knew his claim on Roberta was about to be questioned. “Leave her alone. She wants to stay with Carlin’s body until I can make arrangements for it to be taken to town.”

“You can’t tell me what to do about Roberta. I’m in love with her. I’m going to marry her.”

“I’m also in love with Roberta. She hasn’t agreed to marry you, so I think that means I still have a chance.”

“Roberta can’t be in love with you. She’s in love with me.” Boone could hardly have looked more shocked if someone had hit him in the face with a ripe tomato.

“We’ll have to leave that for Roberta to decide,” Nate said. “In the meantime, could I use your buggy to take Carlin’s body to town? I’d use Roberta’s wagon, but your buggy is closer, and your horse is faster than her mules.” Apparently Boone had gone too long without having anyone question him. He looked momentarily too discombobulated to make a decision. “Come on,” Nate said. “You can help me carry Carlin’s body from the cornfield.”

While keeping pace with Nate, Boone advanced numerous reasons why Roberta intended to marry him even though she hadn’t accepted his proposal. As far as Nate was concerned, the only reason Roberta hadn’t agreed to marry Boone was because she didn’t love him. That was all he needed to hope she would come to love him instead.

“Boone has offered to let us use his buggy to take Carlin’s body to town.”

Boone gave every indication that he was prepared to dispute that statement. But when Roberta looked up and thanked him while tears streamed down her face, not even Riggins could refuse her.

Carlin had been a tall, rangy young man. Even though he wasn’t heavy, carrying him put a strain on Nate’s wound. Roberta supported his head. She said letting his head hang down made the gash in his throat look even more terrible.

Roberta enlisted the help of a couple extra men before she was happy with the way Carlin’s body was positioned in the buckboard.

“Since I’m the one who has to make the funeral arrangements for Carlin, I’ll drive him into town,” Nate said to Boone. “You can use my horse when you’re through helping the men put out the fire.”

Roberta’s tearful thanks put a stop to Boone’s attempt to be the one to drive the buckboard. Nate didn’t feel so much as a twinge of conscience for having appropriated Boone’s buggy. He didn’t know if Roberta would ever love him, but she deserved a better husband than a man who had picked her out just because she was the prettiest woman in Slender Creek.

“Something has changed, hasn’t it?” Roberta didn’t look at Nate. She just stared into the distance.

Nate had already come to that conclusion. “It looks that way.”

“You don’t think it’s the ranchers, do you?”

“No.”

“Who would have a reason to shoot my father, murder Carlin, and set my house on fire with me in it?”

“It has to be Laveau.”

Nate had tried to find an explanation that didn’t involve Laveau diViere, but he couldn’t forget Laveau prowling outside his window or the way his hat had been found after the first attack. It looked like Laveau had tried to destroy Nate by implicating him in the raid on the farm and her father’s death, but didn’t account for this last attack unless it could be explained by a depth of evil he hadn’t suspected even of Laveau.

“I can’t believe anyone can be that pitiless. He could have knocked Carlin out, gagged him, and tied him up.”

“That would be too much trouble.”

At least his death had been quick. Nate knew from the war that being burned alive was unimaginably painful. Many who survived begged for death. Why would Laveau have wanted to do something like that to Roberta? Was it possible for anybody to enjoy cruelty for the sake of being cruel? That was all the more reason Nate couldn’t give up his quest to find Laveau. Any man capable of such evil had to be stopped, regardless of the cost.

Roberta didn’t appear ready to accept Laveau’s being behind the attacks. “How would he know about Carlin? Even I wasn’t supposed to know.”

Nate couldn’t answer that question, but Laveau had a way of knowing things other people didn’t. Nate used to think it was luck, even a really good spy system. Lately he’d come to believe Laveau had an uncanny sense for ways to cause trouble. It was a lot like Cade’s ability to sense impending danger. No one could explain that, either.

On reaching town, Nate turned the buckboard in the direction of the doctor’s house. The town slept peacefully, most of them unaware of the tragedy of a lost life. The darkened streets were empty, the windows of most homes like sightless eyes staring into the street. Only Boone’s saloon, emptied of its patrons by the fire, stood open, the light from its windows casting yellow streaks across the faded boardwalk to be swallowed up by the hungry maw of the empty street.

Conditioned to respond to calls at all hours of the night, the doctor opened his door before Nate had to knock a second time. Clad in pajamas a half-dozen sizes too large for his slender body, Dr. Danforth went directly to the body. After a brief examination, he said, “It’s a blessing the boy was knocked out before his throat was cut.”