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Patricia Potter (19 page)

BOOK: Patricia Potter
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He watched the last of the wagons pass, noticing the doctor at the rear, and he felt a mean jealousy constricting his insides. He had heard the doctor had taken Willow Taylor to the dance. The desperate pain he’d felt at the knowledge was new to him, and he didn’t like it either.

Hell, if he had any sense, he would leave now. He sat in the saddle, watching the last of the dust settle, and he made his decision. He would visit Alex Newton that afternoon, make sure the rancher understood that nothing had better happen to the woman or her kids, or he, Lobo, would return and make Alex pay. He would then ride out in the morning, put this place and all his confusing unwanted emotions behind him for good.

B
Y NOON THE
laborers had produced a skeleton of a barn. Willow had made an enormous bucket of lemonade and dispensed it generously as she watched, in amazement, the speed of the work.

Willow was surprised that so many men had showed, twenty at least, in light of Newton’s threats. Marisa had also come with a basket of chicken, which she added to the pile of food brought by other women. She had then pitched in to carry nails, hand hammers to men on ladders, take out water or lemonade and anything else that was required.

Sullivan walked over to Willow, and as his eyes followed Marisa’s swishing form, he said he didn’t think they would finish today, but another Saturday and they would have a fine barn, perhaps not as large as before, but large enough for Willow’s current needs.

Willow smiled, but her eyes were searching the horizon. A hollowness echoed inside her when she didn’t see a tall figure on a pinto. For some reason she had expected him to be there.

Perhaps it had just been wishful thinking.

Willow saw Brady scanning the surrounding fields and hills also. He’d been very quiet since he’d returned. He’d declined to sleep in the boys’ room but slept outside, and Willow hadn’t missed the fact that his gun stayed strapped on his waist for the first time since he’d come to stay with them.

Even Estelle had seemed anxious. She frequently glanced out the window as she busied herself in the kitchen, her eyes searching the gate. Willow knew that she, too, was looking for their stranger.

But try as she might, Willow couldn’t tempt Estelle outside. “It wouldn’t be right,” Estelle said. “They’re good folk.”

“You’re as good as any of them,” Willow retorted, but Estelle only shrunk back and shook her head, and Willow knew she would cause more pain if she pushed the subject.

Chad, too, kept looking. More than once he approached Willow. “You think he’ll come?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, again looking toward the horizon.

Even Sallie Sue joined the chorus. “Where’th Jeth?”

Brady came over for a drink of water, overheard the exchange, and scowled deeply. But before Willow could ask him why, he turned abruptly and returned to work, handing lumber up to a man on a ladder. He had tried hammering, but his hands weren’t steady enough.

Willow looked at him thoughtfully and wondered why he seemed so wary. Every time she mentioned the stranger, his eyes became cold and his face aloof. Willow wondered whether he felt slighted or hurt, or even embarrassed because he hadn’t been there when help had been needed. Whatever it was, Brady had become more wary and taciturn than usual, and it worried her.

By dusk the barn was framed and roofed, and they all promised to return the next Saturday to complete the interior and loft and doors. It was much more than Willow had expected, and even though her stranger hadn’t appeared, she felt a quiet contentment and joy that so many people had helped.

Willow asked Marisa and Sullivan to stay for dinner. They had more than enough food left over, and she didn’t want it to go to waste, she said.

Sullivan looked at Marisa. There was a new and tender expression in his face, Willow thought.

“Will you?” he asked Marisa.

Marisa looked directly into his eyes. “Yes,” she said simply.

“What about your father?” Sullivan asked.

Marisa bit her lip. “I helped the cook make the chicken for dinner last night, and added a few pieces for a ‘picnic’ today. Then I left the house before dawn.” She smiled, but it was a small, nervous smile. “I left a note telling Papa where I would be, and invited him to help. I didn’t think he would send for me, not with so many people here. He knows I’d would refuse to go, and he’d be embarrassed.”

“And when you get home?”

“There will be a grand fight.” Despite the light manner with which she said the words, there was a current of sorrow in them.

“I’ll take you,” Sullivan said.

“No, that would just make it worse.” She bit her lip. “He’s wrong this time, and I have to make him see that.”

“I don’t know if anyone can do that.”

“I can try,” she said.

“And this gunfighter?”

“I haven’t seen him for several days, but I know Papa’s fuming about him.”

“Why?”

She shrugged.

“But you haven’t seen him anymore?”

“No, he’s like a shadow. You know he’s there, but every time you turn to look he’s gone.”

Sullivan looked at Willow, who was listening. “Just like Willow’s stranger.”

Marisa looked puzzled.

“It seems Willow has a mysterious guardian angel, and when anything goes wrong, he just seems to appear. Then he disappears.”

Marisa turned to Willow with a gleeful look. “A beau?”

Willow flushed right down to her toes. “He’s apparently a drifter. He…just happened along….”

“And saved Sallie Sue from the well, and Chad from a bull, and Brady from the barn fire,” Sullivan said with a grin.

“Tell me more,” said Marisa, enraptured.

“He can make a horse do anything,” Chad contributed.

“I like him,” Sallie Sue chirped.

“His name is Jess,” Willow said. “That’s about all I know about him. Except he’s been very kind.”

Marisa cocked her head. “What does he look like? Maybe he works for Papa.”

“I doubt that,” Sullivan said. “All your father’s men know exactly how he feels about this ranch.”

Estelle appeared then, turning her head slightly so her bad eye didn’t show to Marisa. “Supper’s ready,” she said.

Only one extra place had been added to the big round table, and Willow looked at Estelle questioningly.

“Oh, I’m not hungry,” Estelle said, ready to flee the room.

Willow and Sullivan exchanged glances. It was Marisa, not lack of appetite that bothered Estelle, who still felt more than a little unworthy of the “good folk.”

Marisa found herself looking from one to another, and comprehension slowly dawned. “It’s because I’m a Newton,” she said. “You don’t want to sit with the daughter of the man who’s causing so much trouble.”

“Oh, no, Miss,” Estelle said, horrified. “You…you’re…more than welcome. I just didn’t think…you…I—I mean I…”

Sullivan wanted to kiss Marisa just then. There was nothing she could have said that would have disarmed Estelle so quickly. She knew what an outcast was.

“Then you’ll join us?” Marisa said gently.

“I…well…there’s no room.”

Chad rose from his chair gallantly. “You can have my chair. I’ll go out and eat with Brady.”

Only then did everyone else realize that Brady was not with them. Willow went to the door and saw Brady sawing timber. Willow wanted to call him, but she knew how bad he felt about the barn. This was his way of trying to compensate.

Supper was a rather subdued affair. The mysterious stranger was not mentioned again, as Sullivan and Marisa found each other of much greater interest and Estelle continually fluttered up and down in confused helpfulness. The twins carried much of the conversation, competing with each other over who had been the most valuable during the day. Sallie Sue took several bites of food, then her chin sleepily sunk down to her chest, giving Estelle an excuse to leave.

Marisa watched as the former saloon girl gently picked up the child, whispering softly to her as she took her into the bedroom.

“She seems so good with Sallie Sue.”

“She is,” Sullivan said, his hand finding hers under the table. “You’re quite surprising yourself.”

Marisa turned big inquisitive eyes his way. “You must have had a very sorry opinion of me.”

“No,” he said. “I just—”

“Thought I was young and spoiled,” she finished for him. “And I am. I usually get what I want.” There was a very definite implication in her tone, but then she grinned impishly. “And I think Estelle is very nice.”

“Do you?” Sullivan said.

“Think Estelle is nice or get what I want?”

“Get what you want.”

“I’ll tell you very soon,” she said. “And now I think I’d better go, or the whole Newton army will be over here.”

“I’ll see you to the gate of your ranch, at least,” Sullivan said.

“In your buggy? What about my mare?”

“I’ll tie her to the back.”

She looked at him, and he looked at her, and Willow knew she could be a million miles away for all that she was noticed.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Doctor. But I’ll help Willow clean up first.”

Willow shook her head. “No, I think I’d rather not have your army over here. Estelle and I will take care of it. You two go.”

Marisa looked at Sullivan in question, and he nodded, rising.

“Thank you,” Willow said. “Thank you both.”

She watched as the two left. Sullivan tied Marisa’s horse to the buggy, and there was something very gentle in the way he handed her up. Again Willow felt the yearning that had haunted her lately. Something inside hurt and longed and wanted in ways she’d never felt before. She tried to smile as they waved to her, but her smile wobbled precariously on her lips. She wondered if anyone would ever touch her like that.

She wondered if Jess would ever touch her like that. Where was he?

“Y
OU WANT ME
to do what?” It seemed to Lobo he kept repeating the same words in Alex Newton’s presence.

“Burn that goddamn barn down.”

“Hell, no.”

“If you don’t, then someone else will.”

“If you touch that place…”

Lobo let the implied threat linger unsaid in the room. He didn’t need to spell it out.

“I heard you were tough. That damned woman’s gotten to you.”

“I don’t make war on women and children. I told you that in the beginning.”

“You said you could get them off.”

“I was wrong. She’s not going to budge an inch off that ranch, and you know it. You lied to me from the beginning. Told me just my presence would scare her off. Well, it didn’t.” The last was said a little smugly.

“I didn’t ask you to be their guardian.”

Lobo and Newton glared at each other.

“I’m warning you, Newton, leave them alone.”

“That barn’s going to burn.”

“Even your daughter was there,” Lobo taunted. “What are you going to do to her?”

Newton’s face went white. He had indeed thought about sending his foreman and others to fetch Marisa, but he knew she wouldn’t come easily and he would be the laughingstock of the territory. Better to treat it as a young one’s lark, and accomplish his task another way. But all the same, Marisa’s action only hardened his resolve. She would learn not to back him into a corner. “That’s none of your business, Lobo. You’re through here now. Get the hell out.”

“Not yet,” Lobo growled.

“What do you mean?”

“Like I said, I don’t want anything happening to that woman and those kids.” As he said it, he realized he’d just ventured into unknown terrain. The moment Alex had said he would burn Willow out, Lobo knew he couldn’t leave no matter what he’d decided earlier.

“Turning gallant? I’ve heard talk of her ‘mysterious do-gooder.’” Alex laughed, the harsh, bitter laugh of a man who seldom truly smiled. “The lobo? The wolf? Does she know who you are?”

Lobo’s fingers tightened into fists behind his back, but his eyes didn’t change. “I don’t want anything happening to them,” he repeated in a tone full of menace.

Alex suddenly regretted his bravado. Hell, now he had to get rid of Lobo. When Willow Taylor found out who he was, she’d send him on his way. Alex just had to make sure she found out quickly. Then his newly hired guns would do what should have been done in the beginning—burn the Taylor woman out.

Lobo watched the change in Newton’s eyes, the rage turn to cunning. He threw Alex’s two thousand dollars down on a nearby table. If he’d decided to ride off, he would have taken it, but now he was changing sides, and his particular code dictated the return of money.

“If you come after her, you’ll find me, Newton.”

“You think she’s going to want you when she finds out who you are?”

Lobo shrugged. “Makes no difference. It’ll be between you and me.”

“Even you can’t stand up to twenty-five guns.”

“Maybe not, but they’ll have to go through me first. Want to choose the first one who’ll face me, or are you going to let them pick lots?” Lobo grinned again, and Alex realized exactly what he’d unleashed.

BOOK: Patricia Potter
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