Solitary Horseman (11 page)

She heard Hollis talking to someone outside and butterflies circled in her stomach. Callum had arrived to escort her to the Docker farm. Running a hand down her skirt, she drew in a shaky breath and chided herself for being nervous. This hadn’t been Callum’s idea. She’d asked
him
to take her to the bull-riding and barbecue, so she certainly couldn’t place too much into the gesture.

Moving toward the front window, she looked outside and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of Callum dressed in a dark blue shirt, black leather vest, and black trousers. He’d tied a white and blue kerchief around his strong neck. His shoulders looked so broad and his legs so long! There was no doubt that he’d be the handsomest man at the barbecue. She couldn’t imagine anyone coming close to his raw male beauty. He took off his black hat and ran his fingers along the wide rim as he talked with Hollis. A breeze ruffled his black hair and coaxed a curl to fall onto his forehead. She ached to push her fingers through his hair, remembering how soft it felt and how insistent his mouth had been against hers.

Blinking, she gathered herself, stood straight and placed a hand against her thumping heart. After another few seconds, she stepped lightly out onto the front porch. Callum had handed Butter’s reins to Hollis, who was leading the big horse toward the corral where she’d be kept while he and Banner were at the barbecue. He turned toward Banner, his eyes growing bigger for an instant as they took her in. Smiling and feeling a little shy, Banner started down the porch steps, but one of the boards wobbled and she nearly lost her footing. She might have pitched forward if Callum hadn’t suddenly appeared by her side, one arm slipping around her waist and his other grabbing hers to steady her.

“Whoa there!” He assisted her down the other two steps and stared at the rickety structure. “These are dangerous. They should be fixed before you break your neck.”

“I know.” Banner sighed. “I haven’t quite figured out how to do it. I’m not good at carpentry.”

“I wasn’t talking about
you
shoring them up. Hollis should get at them and put that front door back on its hinges while he’s at it.” He threw a glance at the lop-sided, paint-peeling door.

Embarrassed and angry that their outing was beginning on such a sour note, Banner sighed with frustration. “You’re right, but Hollis is . . . it’s hard for him to focus on such things.” She shrugged, unable to find the words to explain that she didn’t want to nag her remaining brother too much. He was fragile and could drop into a dark depression with the slightest provocation. Glancing up, she saw that something else had captured Callum’s attention, leaving him puzzled. She glanced around and realized he was staring at the flowers laced into the braids of Pansy’s mane.

“She likes to feel pretty,” Banner explained.

“Does she now?” He looked at the flowers on her bonnet. “I guess she’s not the only one.”

“I admit that I’ve been looking forward to this. I do hope the menfolk don’t get too riled up over all this vigilante talk and spoil it.”

“They won’t show out much with their women there,” Callum assured her, resting his hand in the small of her back and guiding her toward the wagon. He kept his hand there as she stepped up into it and she tried not to react too much to it. But she felt a little dizzy as she sat down and arranged her skirt. “I expect that they’ll just gather signatures to see how many men are flapping their gums and how many are loading their guns.”

She watched him stride around Pansy and then climb up to sit beside her. He took up the reins and clucked at Pansy to get her going.

“Have you been to any such gatherings since the war ended?” he asked, glancing sideways at her.

She shook her head and laughed under her breath. “No, but then I didn’t go to any before the war either.”

He cast her a baffled look. “What do you mean? There were all kinds of dances and cotillions going on. Seemed like every weekend through the spring and most of the summer someone was holding a barn dance.”

She gave a careless shrug that had nothing to do with her actual feelings. “That’s true, but the Paynes weren’t invited.”

He was quiet for a full minute before he said, “I remember seeing you at a church social. There was a baked goods auction and Eller bought your strawberry pie.”

Startled, she turned a little to look at him as the hazy memory sharpened. “I remember that! It was a church fundraiser, so all members were invited. I’m surprised that
you
remembered. I was about fifteen or sixteen, I guess.”

“I got a piece of the pie. Best I ever ate.”

She rolled her eyes. Of course, it would be the pie he remembered.

“You wore a yellow dress with big, full sleeves.”

Her gaze darted to his and held to admire his profile – the straight bridge of his nose, the strong line of his jaw, and quick quirk of his lips. If she hadn’t been staring at his mouth, she would have missed that lightning fast sign of amusement. She started to comment on it, but he drew in a deep breath and changed the subject entirely.

“Your cattle aren’t branded, so I had the blacksmith make some irons for you and we’re going to brand your cattle so there’s no question about which is which. Right now, it’s easy to tell them from ours because yours are underweight, but once we get them fattened up—” He shrugged.

“Pa never branded because he said it was too much trouble for nothing.”

“Makes it that much easier for rustlers to make off with your herd.”

She nodded, grimly. “What kind of brand did you have made for our place?”

“A vertical line with a triangle at the top – like a pennant. Or a banner.” His eyes slid sideways to catch her reaction.

“A banner?” She smiled, charmed by the gesture. “How clever. Thank you.”

“Why were you named that? If you don’t mind my asking.”

She wiggled to a more comfortable position on the hard seat. This was one of her favorite stories. “Papa always wanted a girl and he kept getting boy after boy after boy. When I was born and the midwife declared, ‘It’s a girl!’ Papa said, ‘It’s about dang time! Today is a banner day, for sure.’ And my mama said, ‘That’s what we should name her. Banner Lynn Payne.’”

Callum’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “I always wondered . . .”

“How’d you get your name?”

“It’s an old family one. My great-grandfather’s name was Callum and it was my grandfather’s middle name.”

“I like it.” She sighed, enjoying the breeze and sunshine patting her face. “What’s your ranch’s brand?”

He cleared his throat before he answered. “The number three and the letter L.”

She managed not to wince, but just barely. “Three Latimer sons.”

He nodded.

“You miss them terribly, I know.”

“We’ll start branding next week.”

She studied his rock-hard jaw and stubborn expression before looking away from him. “I miss my brothers. Even though I was bone weary of picking up after them and fussing at them to take a proper bath or fix this or that around the house, it would be sheer bliss if I could have them back now.” When he said nothing, she glanced at him to see that his expression hadn’t changed one iota. “You don’t want to talk about missing your loved ones, I take it.”

“Seems like a waste of breath.”

She felt her eyes go wide. “Why would you say that?”

“Of course we miss them. If you love someone and they’re gone, you miss them.” He turned his head away from her to track the flight of geese overhead. “What I feel goes way beyond missing. Sometimes . . . most of the time . . .it’s like my innards have been ripped out and I’ve got nothing left inside of me but sawdust and sin.”

His stark admission stole her breath for a few moments and she could think of nothing worthy to say in return. Finally, as the silence stretched between them and he kept his face averted from her, she rested a hand on his forearm. He jerked slightly and swung his questioning gaze around to her.

“Why sin?”

His eyes darkened to forest green. “I’ve done terrible things, Banner. When I die, I’m going straight to hell.”

She gathered his shirtsleeve between her fingers. “You’re talking about what you did during the war. You’re forgiven of those sins, Callum. All soldiers are forgiven.”

“Forgiven.” He scoffed. “I’ll never forget what I did . . . what I saw. And every damn night I relive it all – or when I stop to think about something or other. Before I know it, I’m back there on the battlefield.”

“That happens to Hollis, too. Even to me, but not as much as it used to. I saw horrible things I’ll never be able to wipe from my mind. The hospitals were full all the time. Every bed contained misery and pain, tears and blood. I watched scores of good men die. Some of those men, I knew. I was always terrified that one of my brothers would be brought in and there would be nothing we could do for him.” She realized she still clutched at his sleeve and she let go. “It’s a lovely day and we should dwell on lovely memories. That’s another way to heal.”

“How?” he asked, throwing another frown her way.

“By honoring the good memories of their lives instead of sinking into the hole they left in your heart with their passing.” She laced her fingers around one knee and smiled as a memory floated to the top of her mind. “Many an evening Papa would get out his banjo and Louie would grab his fiddle. They’d play some tunes and we’d sing and dance until we were all giddy and giggling.” She glanced at him and was glad to see that his frown was gone. “Did you and your brothers act loco like that sometimes?”

“Sure. We were always up to something. Or that’s what Mother said. I’d rub hog grease all over Max’s tack or Harry would put a couple of fire ants in my boots.”

“Oh, no!” She giggled, picturing him hopping around and yowling as he yanked off his boots. “My brothers pulled pranks on a daily basis. I can’t count how many times I’ve seen them chasing each other, hell bent on retaliation.” She angled a glance at him. “It’s better to remember those times, isn’t it?”

A cloud of displeasure passed across his face. “Can’t say that it is. Still hurts.”

“Your brothers and mother wouldn’t want you to go about sad and forlorn. Do you know that seeing you smile is more unlikely than spotting a winged pig? And I have never heard you laugh, either. Do you know how to? Does anything ever strike you as funny?”

“Not much.” He stared straight ahead, his brow furrowed. “I never said I was good company. You invited yourself along, if I remember correctly.”

She sighed with aggravation. “Yes, and thank you for being a gentleman and reminding me of that.” She squinted at the wagon pulling onto the road. “Is that Eller and Lilah?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t suppose Ben Echohawk will be at the barbecue,” she noted with a little grin.

“No, although if the Echohawk family showed up, it would make this friendly, little get-together more interesting.”

She lifted a brow at his understatement. “You know, I always thought that you and Lilah would marry – and I wasn’t the only one. Everyone around here thought that you two were meant for each other.”

“Lilah had a lot to do with that. She told everyone who would listen that I was going to propose to her.”

“And did you?”

“No. I’m not a man who likes to be pushed. I tend to want to push back – hard.”

“You ever regret not asking her?”

“No. I don’t need a wife.”

Banner leaned forward to peer at his stubborn expression. “What
do
you need, Callum Latimer?”

He leaned back, eyeing her suspiciously, as if her query put him on edge. “Nothing.”

“I disagree. You need something to take that perpetual scowl off you face and put some life back inside you. You and your pa are a pair. He doesn’t want to move too much because it’ll hurt and you don’t want to start enjoying life again because it’ll feel good.”

“That’s hogwash.”

“That’s a fact.” She folded her arms and tipped up her chin. “You don’t like it? Change it!”

“How about you keep your advice to yourself?” He glared at her angrily before staring at Pansy’s bobbing head.

Silence settled heavily between them. Banner tried to be interested in the passing scenery, but it was pastures and cows and she’d seen that scenery her whole life, so the thrill was long gone. She stared at the sky, watching the occasional bird sail past. She felt the man beside her shift irritably and flick the reins, urging Pansy to move faster. Finally, something he’d said kept gnawing at her and she couldn’t let it go.

“I’m surprised you recalled what I was wearing at the church auction years ago when you didn’t make any comment at all about how I look today.” She ran her hands down her skirt, only then realizing that her feelings were hurt. A spurt of anger surged up through her. Why was she letting him get under her skin? “Never mind! I’m not angling for a compliment. I just mentioned it because . . . because . . . I should just keep my thoughts to myself. Like you said.”

Gripping the side of the wagon, she leaned away from him and managed not to look in his direction for the rest of the ride to the Docker farm. Callum nodded to people who called greetings to him and edged the wagon behind another one in the shade of the barn. As he set the brake and went around to see to Pansy, Banner tried to get into a better mood. She wanted to enjoy herself and not dwell on her jumbled feelings for Callum and how, so far, no one had greeted her warmly as they had Callum Latimer.