In Too Deep (14 page)

“I reckon when Rafe ran this place, he always kept the horses in the corral to the north side of the barn,” Ethan said.

Ethan rose from beside the little colt, a real beauty. Ethan had already decided to keep him for a stallion. Turning to Steele, he was tempted to swing a fist. Instead, he smiled and refused to care.

The trouble was that Rafe did most everything for a reason, and a good one. So going against Rafe's way just to be in charge made a man do stupid things. But Ethan had his own ideas, and he'd like to give a few of them a try. He'd do it too, starting now. He hesitated over that. He hated caring enough to get mad. Maybe he'd start tomorrow.

“North side's fine then.” Ethan's smile held, but he heard his teeth grinding together.

Steele led the pinto mare out of the barn.

Ethan followed, thinking it was time to go wrest a noon meal out of his sweet little wife. It was early, but he'd be willing to drink a cup of coffee and watch her hurry around the kitchen. Since Seth had left, Ethan had found out the pure magic of having a wife.

Thinking about it made him stir restlessly right now, in the middle of the day.

He'd also gotten through two nights in a row without having a screaming brother disturb his sleep. The baby had awakened him briefly, though that was Audra's job. Which suited Ethan just fine.

Maybe while he was in there, he'd see if she'd let him give her a few orders. He could practice up on her, then try the cowhands.

As he stepped out of the barn, two men rode up the trail from Rawhide.

Ethan stopped and watched as they approached.

The men stayed a respectful distance back. “We heard in town you were taking on hands,” the taller man said.

Ethan nodded. “You heard right. It looks like you've come a long ways.”

Their horses were thin and looked worn down. Their clothes were stained with sweat and trail dust.

“I'm Mitch Smith.” The taller man sat in the saddle a pace ahead of his partner. Ethan noted that, while his clothes were filthy, the man was clean-shaven, his saddle and gun well cared for. Smith jabbed a thumb at the man on his left. “This here's Grove Johnson.”

Mitch Smith wore western clothes, but he didn't look comfortable in them. A city slicker playing cowboy? But maybe he'd be able to play it well.

Johnson had the look of a hangman. Grim and quiet. Ethan was cautious of him on sight. He looked over his shoulder to see Steele walking toward them, leading the horse. Steele had seen the men ride in and had turned back. Ethan was glad of it.

“This here's the foreman, Steele Coulter.” Ethan tipped his head toward Steele. As much as Steele was one for quoting Rafe all day long, he was an experienced cowhand and Ethan was glad to have him here to size up these men.

“I'm ready to eat,” Steele said. “Why don't you men come and eat at the bunkhouse. We can talk about what'll be expected of you and decide if the job and you are a good match.”

Ethan noticed Steele hadn't offered them a job. There'd been a few other new hires, and Steele had looked them over for a few seconds and hired them with no fuss.

It made Ethan even more cautious. He pointed at the corral by the barn. “Put up your horses. We can give 'em some hay, and after you've eaten we'll talk. Have you handled cows before?”

There was some grunting that told Ethan no, they hadn't. But everyone had to start somewhere, and there was plenty of unskilled work on a ranch to keep a man busy. He'd yet to meet a man who couldn't master a pitchfork. Still, they weren't youngsters. Usually a cowboy started young or he didn't start at all. To Ethan, that meant some kind of trouble had pushed these men west.

Neither one did much talking. But Ethan watched them strip the leather from their horses and pitch hay without asking which end of the pitchfork to hold. Steele came up beside Ethan, and the two of them leaned on the fence while the newcomers worked.

“Think they'll shape up, Steele?” Ethan asked quietly. Steele did his share of pushing when he and Ethan worked together, but Ethan realized right then that Steele rode for the brand in a way Ethan could respect. Worrying about the way Rafe did things—and how eager Steele was to mention them—didn't seem all that important as they faced the newcomers together.

“Looks to me like they know horses, which usually means they've been riding the grub line awhile. I'll talk to 'em over a meal. If we hire 'em, we'll keep a close eye on 'em. We can use at least five more men so we have enough to send Rafe. More than that when we get Seth set up in ranching.”

“I've got a woman here now.” Ethan didn't bother smiling about that. “I don't want a man around who'll bother her or the children. And Rafe'll feel the same, so we'll watch 'em awhile before we decide to hire 'em permanent.”

Steele nodded.

The men finished with their horses and walked toward the fence just as the cook stepped from the bunkhouse and shouted that dinner was ready.

“I'll show 'em where to wash up,” Steele said. “You stay close to that wife of yours until we're sure there ain't gonna be trouble.”

“Sounds good. Maybe they can ride herd for a time after the noon meal. That'll test 'em a little.”

Steele jerked his chin. “I'll make a point of testing them a lot.”

Jasper grabbed Trixie's arm and pulled her behind a moving wagon. “Keep even with the buckboard. I just saw someone who knows me. We don't want anyone to be able to say we were in this part of town.”

Jasper lifted his head to glance over the top of the wagon as the man entered a seedy diner Jasper knew had an opium den on the second floor.

“We're leaving town right now.” Jasper looked back at Trixie. “I've got some money. Enough for two train tickets and a bit more laid by. I want you to come with me. We can catch a carriage a few blocks over and head for the train station.”

“No!” Trixie jerked on his arm.

Trixie usually did whatever he asked. He was so surprised that he didn't even get mad, and he always got mad when someone told him no. “Why?” he asked.

“The train will be the first place they look once you turn up missing. If there is any suspicion about you, they might be watching it already.”

“We need to get out of town fast, before anyone gets a hint that I'm thinking of it. If rumors have started, then I need to go.”

“We'll ride horses instead.” Trixie was dragging him along, heading the direction he wanted to go anyway.

“But I don't want to ride a horse halfway across the country.” He could only think of heading toward Colorado. The last telegraph he'd gotten had come from there, from Mitch. He was on Tracker's trail and that gave Jasper a direction.

She embedded her fingernails into the silk fabric of his shirt. “You think I haven't dreamed about leaving my life behind?”

“You mean . . . you've planned this out?”

“For years I've been getting ready. I have enough money to buy a little house and live quietly, plant a garden, maybe get some chickens and a milk cow. I could get by even if I never work again.”

“That is a fantasy, darlin'. What you're talking about is hard work. Backbreaking work.”

Trixie pulled him down a narrow street that left behind the crime-ridden part of town. Only a few blocks and they'd be in a safer area where they could find a carriage for hire.

“It's
honest
work.” Trixie stopped and turned to face him. They had half a block to go before they came out onto a street well-lit with lanterns. She dragged him around to face her.

Jasper tried to remember the last time he'd been pushed around like this.

“It's hard work, but it's decent. I'd be
decent
. I've always hoped to live long enough to make the break and find a clean life. But there was no way to do that in Houston. I'm too well known. I could never just sell the saloon and retire. The stink of it would stick to me here.”

“So why didn't you go?” Jasper hated to think she'd lived in a way she hated. Trixie was his friend, his partner. She was almost his wife.

“Because
you were here, you fool
. I stayed for
you
.” Her eyes blazed. With love. For him.

He swallowed hard. He didn't want anyone to depend on him. At the same time, he knew she'd been depending on him for years. Just as he'd been depending on her. He nodded, afraid to speak the words she no doubt wanted to hear.

“So . . .” He cleared his throat. “You have a plan, then?”

She looked disappointed. Worse, she looked like maybe she felt a little sorry for him that he couldn't admit any feelings for her.

That annoyed him. He'd asked her to come along, hadn't he? True, it had been at least partly because he hoped she had some money. His wouldn't take him far.

“Yes, I've got a plan. I've got plenty of cash money that no one knows about, because I've been rat-holing it for years. And I know the name of a man, an honest man with a livery who sells horses. He doesn't know I know him. I just did some quiet checking. We'll buy two horses and ride out.”

“We'll need a change of clothes.” He looked at his silk shirt and broadcloth pants. They marked him as wealthy. They drew the eye just as he wanted. But now he didn't want anyone to look twice, and Trixie's flashy red dress was even more noticeable.

“I've got enough money to take care of all that.”

“I need to go to my bank and get the cash I've got on hand.” It wasn't much.

“No, we walk away now. We get my money because we can pick it up without anyone knowing. We buy a change of clothes and two horses, then we leave town. No stopping at any bank or anyplace we might see someone who knows either of us. Once you leave, the wolves will dive on the remains of your business. You can't come back and reclaim it without starting from the ground up.”

Jasper nodded. “We can go west. I can set up business, buy a saloon and—”

“
No!
If you run from the Hardesey clan, you need to change your life.”

Gardens and chickens didn't appeal to him.

“Think, Jasper.”

He didn't mention that he'd hate being a farmer. Other than that, he liked her plan. Especially liked her cash on hand. It was going to much improve his chance to survive until he got his money back from Gill.

“If you do this right, live honest, they'll never find you. Never. The West swallows up men every day.”

The scratch of a footstep brought Jasper's head around.

“Someone's there,” Trixie whispered. “Probably just a pickpocket, but let's get out into a better-lit street.”

Jasper grabbed her wrist, and they began walking steadily, quickly. But when Trixie seemed set to run, he tightened his hold to slow her down. Running would only draw attention.

Just a few more steps and they'd get out of this dark, narrow street and onto a well-lit one. From there find a ride to Trixie's cash and—

A bullet whizzed past Jasper's ear, so close he could feel the heat. He threw himself down on the hard wooden boardwalk, scraping his hands. He clawed at his jacket and pulled out his derringer. It was only useful in tight quarters.

With a firm grip on Trixie, he rolled off the edge of the boardwalk and fell to the dirty street with a thud.

More shots fired. A woman screamed from the street ahead. A man shouted. Witnesses, hopefully to scare their assailant away.

Trixie shoved him, and Jasper saw they could crawl beneath the boards. Scrambling, Jasper took cover. “Crawl,” he whispered.

The boardwalk was high enough that they could move quickly. Trixie had trouble with her dress, but she was somehow managing.

They made it to the corner and rounded it just as another bullet fired. The sound of a fast-moving horse echoed from the street ahead. Jasper could look out and see the flashing hooves.

They rounded the corner of the building, still crawling. Jasper slammed his back against the foundation and waited, gun ready.