Intimate Strangers (Eclipse Heat Book 2) (32 page)

“We lost Moira two years back.” It was a gruff statement as he fingered the knife.

Alex said, “Lizzie only has one more to beat.” He directed their attentions back to the competition where the second female contestant missed the target and laughed good-naturedly, conceding to the other two.

When the third girl stepped up, applause greeted her. “That’s Eldon Myers’ daughter,” Ambrose said dryly. “Eldon owns a ranch on the other side of Eclipse and his girl seems real determined to win.”

Lucy measured the arrogant tilt of the blonde’s head and watched her say something to Lizzie. The young Mack girl flinched from the words that were spoken too low for others to hear.

Alex glowered at the scene, ready to plow through the crowd to take up for his friend. Lizzie’s father shook his head and smiled grimly. “It’ll be a cold day in the devil’s den when insults fluster my lass. Lizzie can take care of herself.” His words, delivered in the soft burring tones of Scotland, were a warning as he looked at Eldon’s daughter.

The report of the Winchester resounded in the clearing.
Boom
—the rock thrown skyward that served as her target shattered.
Boom
—struck by a second bullet, it split yet again.
Boom
—the third strike turned it to dust in the wind.

“I told your son not to worry. When Elizabeth gets riled her aim steadies right down.” The farmer spoke with satisfaction, lighting the pipe he cradled in his hand.

Lucy’s attention abruptly turned to three men in suits who were exchanging money as though they’d bet on the competition’s outcome. Stephen Pauley stood laughing with the other two.

“Ambrose, do you see who came today? Who are those men he’s with?”

She didn’t have to direct his gaze. Quincy was staring at the trio with a look of disgust on his face. “I should have known that sonovabitch wouldn’t be able to stay away.”

“Who are Pauley’s guests?”

Ambrose smiled grimly. “Unless I miss my guess, he’s brought along some of the mysterious
investors
we’ve been hearing about. Let’s go get introduced.” He steered Lucy toward the three men and stopped next to Stephen Pauley.

Lucy had to admit, Ambrose wasn’t much for false manners. He said, “Pauley, I see you got out of jail in time to celebrate the end of a successful season with us. Introduce us to your friends. We like to know what kind of vermin are crawling around.”

Before Stephen could do more than blanch and step back, one of his companions held out his hand. “I’m Alan Michaels.”

Quincy ignored the offered handshake and Michaels shrugged, dropping his hand to his side and introducing himself anyway. “I’m a colleague of Stephen’s. He’s recently joined our banking consortium and is currently helping us locate promising investment property.”

It was a blatant acknowledgment of his intentions to acquire Texas land. His eyes were cold and his accompanying smile challenging.

“We’re here to stay whether you ranchers like it or not,” Pauley added, his confidence restored by the presence of his friends.

“Since we are too, it might get difficult for you to expand,” Lucy assured him. “The Double-Q is making it our business to help other Eclipse ranchers targeted in your manipulations.”

The third man didn’t introduce himself. His wore a bored expression when he said, “Laws can be shaped to accommodate progress, and false accusations of wrongdoing are slanderous. Be careful, Mrs. Quince, when you air your opinions.”

Ambrose slid his arm around Lucy’s shoulders protectively. “Texans have their own way of shaping laws and speaking the truth. And it’s only slander if the opinions are unfounded. It’s pretty interesting that the ranchers here round, going belly-up because of rustling, ended up losing their lands to the bank. Believe this—cattle and land thieves, whether in business suits or denims, will find themselves rope dancing. You might want to think on that before you move against me again, or another of my neighbors.”

Feeling Quincy’s rage pulse through him, she caught his hand and squeezed. “Ambrose, we have other guests to greet. I think we’ve heard enough.”

Ambrose shrugged and drew her away from the trio of scoundrels toward less noxious company. When they reached Hiram Potter, the sheriff muttered, “Those bastards have a lot of gall coming here.”

“Better here, where we can see them, than hiding under their usual rock,” Quincy said.

“Do you really think Stephen Pauley abetted the rustlers?” Hiram asked.

Ambrose answered grimly “Yep. I think he targeted the Double-Q from the beginning because of the bad-blood between us. As for Luce’s money—hell, that was his buy-in to the consortium, ‘til he raked in enough cash of his own from thieving to replace it. That’s what I think. Can I prove it? Nope.”

Scratching his head, Hiram drawled, “Reckon if I had two nickels to rub together, neither of ‘em would be put in a bank. But, then, sheriffing in Buffalo Creek, I’m not liable to have to worry about even the nickels.”

Lucy directed the men toward the afternoon competitions, ending the serious conversation. Most of the games were over, precipitating another round of eating. As Lucy watched, couples carried their plates into the barn looking for a bale of straw to sit on while they waited for the evening dancing to begin.

Lucy stared at the man making the rounds from couple to couple. Ambrose had gotten the services of TC McCord. “That man flirts with every female age eight and beyond,” she told Quincy.

The famous dance caller guaranteed a social’s success because he coaxed the reluctant men onto the floor to partner the ladies, and then nudged the dance partners into working together as he teased, coached and demonstrated.

“They’ll be lots of hearts aflutter tonight,” Ambrose grinned. “McCord’s famous for playing matchmaker between the wallflowers and the wall-hangers.”

Lucy grinned at Quincy’s description of the single, shy and unattached of both genders. But it was true that many marriages had been started during a dance the Texas Caller had conducted.

The music makers started tuning up, stealing into the barn to practice together, sitting with their instruments on the platform that Quincy had built. Folks followed them into the cool shade of the barn to listen and sometimes sing along.

Quincy pulled Lucy to the side and said, “Better grab a moment to ourselves now. After the music gets going they’ll be no rest ’til it’s over.”

Lucy’s stomach knotted. She knew that Logan Doyle and Hiram Potter were mingling with their guests along with unidentified Texas Rangers Doyle had brought along. In addition, the Double-Q ranch hands added to the barbecue’s security force. There was no doubt that Ambrose had a net of guards surrounding the party, but that didn’t make her fear any less real.

Quincy urged Lucy into the house and up the stairs to their bedroom. As soon as she got into the privacy of the room, she sat on the bed and gripped the edge of the mattress. “I’m terrified,” she admitted.

“Check your weapons again, stay steady and don’t let anyone lure you from my side,” Ambrose said. “Hiram has the kids corralled at the dance and Hamilton’s staying in here with Comfort and Iris. Mrs. Carmichael’s inspecting the pipes in the kitchen and she’s got her rifle loaded and ready to use it.”

That brought a smile to Lucy’s face and some of her tension relaxed. “It’s amazing the people who ended up my friends,” she laughed.

“You’re good people,” Quincy told her gruffly. “Any fool can see that. You always have been.”

He sat next to her for a moment, hugging her close. “I want your promise before we return to the barn that you’ll stay by my side.”

Lucy closed her eyes, trying to hide her panic from him and joked, “With this many people around, you’ll be lucky if I don’t crawl inside your shirt and hide.”

She turned her head, nuzzled against his chest and felt his rumble of desire before she heard it.

“You keep that up and we’ll be doin’ our dancin’ between the sheets,” he warned her.

Reluctantly, she pulled Quincy to his feet and grinned. “We’ll do that later. Right now we’ve got a party to attend.”

Ambrose and Lucy circled the ranch yard, speaking to everyone they approached, thanking them for coming and inviting them to stay for the evening dance. Most of the competitions were over and the food was disappearing just as fast.

By the time he and Lucy made it to the barn, the musicians were tuned up and ready for the dancing to begin.

Lucy nodded at the platform Ambrose had built and said what a fine job he’d done. He felt his heart swell with pride.

TC McCord stood on the stage managing the couples. Three circles formed and he stepped to the barn floor, demonstrating the movements by dancing from one pair to another and chanting the directions in full voice.

Do-si-do your partner, gents,

Swing that girl with all those skirts,

Promenade her down the floor,

Join the circle dance once more.

Some of the men tried to run for it and he’d grab them and herd them back to a laughing partner.

Ambrose stood with Lucy watching Alex partner Lizzie Mack for the dance set. ”Looks like her dress grew an inch or two.”

“Roberta added the ruffle at the bottom and attached a scarf at the collar for decoration,” Lucy explained.

Ambrose grunted in appreciation. The skirt of the old dress flared around Lizzie’s legs and more than one cowboy looked at her with interest as eleven-year-old Alex whirled her to the music.

“She’ll be a looker when she gets done growin’,” he told Lucy. “Our boy already knows quality when he sees it.”

Lucy called Quincy’s attention to Joseph Mack. “Much as I like the girls, their father makes me nervous.”

“I asked Hiram about him. I don’t know Mack, and ’til I do, he bears watching,” Ambrose said.

Mack stood across the room ignoring the jostling of the occasional ranch hand who tried to rile him. The Double-Q cowboys were under orders to leave off drinking liquor for the evening. But the neighboring ranch hands weren’t so bound.

Outside the barn, plenty of jugs imported for the occasion were being passed around. The night became boisterous as more and more men found their way to the alcohol, indulging themselves before returning inside to the social.

A bowl of apple cider and a tray of desserts had been set up at the end of the barn and Roberta was stationed there to safeguard the brew against the addition of spirits as well as stand guard over Brody. Orders had been strict. After dark, the women and children were to remain clustered together, never without a Double-Q man in sight.

For once, Hiram had spoken sternly to Roberta. “And that means you won’t be escorted anywhere at the dance by any man but me. You hear me, Roberta?”

Roberta had been wide-eyed at the authority in Hiram’s voice when he’d delivered his order and Ambrose had hidden his grin.
Seems as if Potter might be ready to make his move.

Ambrose stood, arm around Lucy’s shoulders, listening to the music and watching for trouble.

Elbowed and bumped by the crowd inside the barn, Lucy began to feel clawing panic. Alone on the Double-Q, she had gladly surrounded herself in cotton-wool fantasy, pretending that her ordeal had ended with the deaths of Slocum, Howard and Bailey. But even standing next to Ambrose she didn’t feel secure, watching the dancers promenade and swing their partners.

Her gaze returned to McCord as he kept several circles going at once, joking, flirting and singing out the steps as he traveled from one to another. An altercation broke out in the third circle between Alex and the cowboy partnering Eldon Myers’ daughter. The caller steadily moved toward the trouble as he continued directing the other dancers.

Alex, being a hard-headed Quince, didn’t have sense enough to back down from the mouthy ranch hand who’d made too many trips outside to a jug of liquor.

The music kept going, but each time the couples were directed to swing their partners, the drunk deliberately whirled the Myers girl into Lizzie Mack, jostling Alex. The musicians seemed to think if they kept playing, they’d get the rowdy past his need to pick a fight. Their strategy wasn’t working.

Calmly controlling the rest of the action on the floor, McCord arrived at the third circle in time to see the cowboy swing his partner too wide, slamming her into a rancher’s wife carrying a refill for the cider bowl.

The bowl flew into the air and the drink splashed all over the Myers girl, drenching the material of her dress. Strong and big-shouldered as she was, the ranch woman didn’t wait for her husband but smacked the cowboy with enough force to knock him backward.

Patting Quincy reassuringly, Lucy said, “I’ll handle this.”

Relief flooded her when he disagreed and took her arm. “I’m coming with you, sweetheart.”

The dancers parted, opening a path on the barn floor as Lucy approached. Finally the musicians gave up playing their instruments, one by one trickling into silence when McCord arrived at the third circle and bent close to the unfortunate girl.

It startled Lucy as much as everyone else in the room when Joseph Mack snarled at the caller, “Get the hell away from her.”

Muttered disapproval swept through the crowd. McCord was popular and the sodbuster wasn’t. The rowdies in the room looked hopefully at the two, waiting for an excuse to brawl.

The girl started to cry and Lucy took her arm, urging her toward the barn exit. “Come with me. We’ve got spare dresses in the house.”

McCord ignored Joseph and said to the weeping girl, “I’ll walk you and Mrs. Quince to the house where you can clean up.”

Lucy’s stomach clenched and she sighed in relief when Ambrose stepped closer to her side. “Not necessary, McCord. We’ve got everything under control, right Luce?”

“Yes. I’ll just get this young lady a new set of clothes and we’ll be back before the next dance ends.”

McCord smiled at the crowd and yelled to the musicians, “Play a nice, slow piece, boys. I’ll take a break and then be back for the next set too.”

Lucy led the weeping girl toward the barn exit but behind her the farmer continued his belligerent conversation. “McCord, I think you were once acquainted with my wife.”

“I meet a lot of people, men and women alike, in my line of work. Sorry, I don’t remember her.” McCord shrugged off the farmer’s comment and turned toward Lucy instead.

The room of people had begun to find partners for the slow dance but the promise of a fight was more entertaining. The musicians stalled, waiting as expectantly as everyone else.

Lucy kept moving toward the door but the dance caller evidently thought he’d avoid the quarrel by joining them. He paced beside the Myers girl, taking her arm and teasing her, coaxing her to smile instead of cry.

Things probably would have settled down and gone back to normal, but Joseph Mack refused to shut up and followed along too.

Quincy nudged the group toward the exit and Lucy understood he was herding the trouble out the door. They exited onto the torch-lined path to the house and even though Lucy knew Double-Q ranch hands watched from the shadows, she gripped the arm she held so hard the girl complained. “You’re hurting me, Mrs. Quince.”

The farmer walked on McCord’s other side, badgering him. “Give it some thought, McCord, and you’ll remember my wife. Moira was a bonnie lass with auburn hair the color of sunset and a heart full of laughter. She disappeared two years back.”

McCord turned to face Joseph Mack and tried to reason with him. “If you cannot find your wife, I’m sorry for you. But you’ll have to look to another to explain her whereabouts.”

The wretched Myers girl took that moment to throw a tantrum. “I don’t care what happened to your wife, you ignorant sodbuster. My dress is ruined and you’re in our way.”

TC McCord ignored the rest of the crowd and leaned toward the rancher’s daughter. “Oh, you sweet thing. Don’t let him fuss you. I’m so sorry this happened. Let me help you, honey.”

Lucy viewed the man in horror as he loomed over the girl, looking at her hungrily. She stumbled to a halt and said quickly, “If you’re foolish enough to go with him, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

Ambrose stiffened next to her and slid his arm around her shoulder protectively. “You sure?” he asked her.

“Very,” she answered.

Ambrose said, “McCord, it’s pretty handy you traveling all over the state without anyone questioning your moves. How many poor women have you butchered over the years?”

Before he could deny it or give any answer, Joseph Mack emitted a bellow of rage and tackled the man. The two rolled in the dirt exchanging blows before McCord pulled free and stumbled to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth with his one hand and holding a long, thin knife in the other.

People spilled out of the barn and formed a circle, eager for more excitement. “Fight, fight, fight,” the watchers chanted, urging the men on.

Lumbering to his feet, the farmer pulled his own blade from the sheath on his thigh and lunged at McCord, slicing his arm before stepping back. “Not so much fun when it’s your hide getting cut, is it boyo?”

The flickering torch light turned Joseph Mack’s eyes into feral points of rage as he wielded his blade. “Moira went into the night two years ago and we never saw her alive again.”

He slashed across McCord’s fancy vest, leaving a red line of blood from the cut he inflicted on his chest before stepping out of the other man’s reach. “We were dancing a circle dance at the Somersby town social when I stepped on her hem.” His voice trembled with grief at his error. “You were doing your fancy steps there that night too.”

For a stocky man, he moved with agility, blocking McCord’s attempts to cut him at the same time he inflicted wounds on the other man. His blade flashed in the torch light as he sliced across McCord’s thigh and then slipped away before the other man could retaliate.

The crowd became quiet, listening to the farmer as he spoke while systematically slashing McCord. A red line appeared on the caller’s forehead, his arm bled profusely, and one hand hung uselessly by his side.

Joseph Mack’s lips drew back over his teeth and his words were a guttural growl when he explained. “She always carried a sewing basket along for such emergencies, and I’d parked the wagon close by, not having the money for the public barn. We were so close to the building, she’d have none of my walking her to the wagon.”

He caught McCord’s shirt, ripping it down the back. “My wife said, ‘I’ll just nip outside and sew up the damage’.” Mack’s voice softened in despair. “As you did tonight, you took one of your breaks when she left. We didn’t find her body for two days, and what evil things you’d wrought upon my poor Moira I will not say.”

The two men circled each other, knives fisted and ready. McCord no longer wore a superior smile. His expression was savage as he glanced around the circle his gaze skating over the lawmen who didn’t intervene and coming to rest on the fierce anger of Ambrose Quince.

The half drunk crowd of men sobered, listening to the exchange of words between the battling men. Ambrose saw understanding pass over McCord’s face. He wouldn’t be leaving this circle alive. McCord’s lips curled back in a sneer and he taunted both Ambrose and Joseph Mack. “Your wives were tasty treats. Maybe I’ll have seconds with one of your girls someday.”

Lucy grabbed Quincy’s arm, but nobody stopped Mack. Joseph roared and lunged at the dance caller and McCord darted forward stabbing the farmer, burying his knife to the hilt in his shoulder instead of the heart he’d aimed for.

Before the killer could pull his blade from the wound and stab Joseph again, the farmer swept his knife across the other man’s throat, cutting through sinew and bone and severing his head. Slowly, McCord’s body toppled to the ground.

Only then did the lawmen insert themselves. “Mack, you should have come to us for help.” Hiram glowered at the man, even as he pulled the knife out of his wound and staunched the blood. Then he added, “But, I figure you just saved the state of Texas a hanging fee. You agree Doyle?”

The two lawmen made it clear justice had been served, ending the talk when they took charge of the killer’s body. With the help of the Texas Rangers, Ambrose urged the crowd back into the barn. “Show’s over, folks. You’ll have to dance without words the rest of the night, but you can rest easy that a monster has been removed from Texas.”

Outside, Joseph Mack told his story gruffly, his expression bitter as his eyes skated to Lucy’s scar. “When I heard about your return to Eclipse, I suspected you knew more about what happened than you’d made public.”

Lucy saw the ruthless glint in his eyes and remembered the social they’d attended earlier in the summer where his girls had renewed their friendship with Alex and Brody.

As if reading her mind, he shrugged and said, “I swore I’d track down the bastard who murdered my wife. And when word got out Thomas McCord would be at your fall dance…”

He nodded at the body being carried away in two parts. “I had no proof and he was a popular man. I figured he’d try to get you again. I planned to catch him when he did.” He nodded at the corpse. “It worked.”

Lucy reached for Quincy’s hand and pulled his arm tighter around her shoulders. “I guess I baited a trap tonight,” she whispered, shivering in his embrace. “Do you remember Iris mentioning her brother’s name?” No one else would have understood her segue to another topic but he followed her thoughts precisely.