Sweetwater Seduction (17 page)

The light in the shack had gone out over an hour ago. The lonesome melodies from a mouth harmonica he had heard coming from the darkened shack had ceased. It was quiet, except for the lowing of cattle now and then.

Kerrigan warmed his gloved hands with his breath. The weather would soon put a stop to rustling for the duration of the winter. If he hoped to catch the cow thieves, he needed to do it soon, before the snow left drifts too deep to move a rustled herd to the nearest railroad head.

The clouds had drifted by, revealing moonlight so bright that he saw the rustlers long before he heard them. They came from the south, five of them, muffled up in heavy coats, their hats tied down with bandannas against the bitter wind. He couldn't see their faces. They worked as a team and quickly cut out about twenty head and herded them off in the direction of Sweetwater Canyon.

Kerrigan smiled grimly. If luck was with him, he might make it to the Halloween dance after all.

The church pews had been moved along the walls, and the town meetinghouse now served as a dance hall. Husbands stood clustered in groups of three and four on one side of the room, while wives stood in similar circles on the other side. The trio of musicians played to a dance floor bereft of revelers.

The men's groups remained divided along rancher and nester lines, but their vow of celibacy had united the women in a common bond that had nester and rancher wives exchanging war stories with desperate animation.

So far, the traditional Sweetwater Halloween Party and Dance was a dismal failure.

Miss Devlin approached the hen clutch that contained Regina Westbrook and Persia Davis and asked, “Isn't anybody going to dance?”

“I'm not speaking to my husband, thanks to you,” Regina said.

“And my husband isn't speaking to me,” Persia added with a brittle smile.

“Then why did you bother to come?” Miss Devlin wondered aloud.

“I'm not going to give Oak the satisfaction of knowing I'm upset that he's not in charity with me,” Regina said. “And since Hadley insisted he was well enough to come, here I am.”

“Where is Hadley now?” Miss Devlin made a glancing search of the room, without seeing her pupil. She knew Bliss had hoped to be alone with Hadley at the dance, so she could tell him about the baby. “I saw him earlier,” Miss Devlin continued, “surrounded by young people. I believe he appeared something of a hero with his arm in that sling.”

“Hadley's the main reason I haven't given up on this fool idea of yours,” Regina said.

“Then you think it's working?” Miss Devlin asked, unable to hide her excitement.

“If you mean, are our husbands ready to kill us for keeping them at arm's length, then, yes, it's working,” Persia agreed. “I don't think anyone is ready to give up yet. Especially after what happened to Pete Eustes. Big Ben is the stubbornest man I ever met.”

“He's no worse than my husband,” Amity Carson complained.

“Or mine,” Claire Falkner added vehemently.

“How long are we expected to keep this up?” Mabel Ives asked.

Miss Devlin let her gaze move from wife to wife around the circle, knowing all of them were appalled by what had happened to Pete Eustes, and feared more such incidents. “Until it works,” she said hesitantly. “Unless someone else has a better idea?”

None of the ladies could meet her steady gaze, and apparently no one else had a better idea. “Every one of you must have the fortitude to keep your vows,” Miss Devlin said. “Surely, husbands can't resist your feminine wiles much longer.”

Regina and Persia exchanged a knowing look before Regina said, “I don't suppose the rumors we've been hearing this week about you and Felton and that gunslinger have anything to do with your confidence that we'll succeed.”

“I don't know what you mean.” But the two spots of color on Miss Devlin's cheeks left her words in doubt.

“I mean,” Regina persisted, “that maybe you understand a little more about what we're going through now.”

“I don't know—” Faced by so many pairs of accusing eyes, Miss Devlin couldn't lie. “Perhaps I do,” she conceded.

“Just remember,” Persia warned, “you took the oath to abstain the same as we did.”

“You're forgetting I am not a married woman,” Miss Devlin said indignantly.

Regina chuckled. “That never stopped a determined man.”

“I never—”

“Excuse me, ladies. I want to ask Miss Devlin for the pleasure of this dance.”

The rumbling bass voice was familiar, but not the one Eden had fretted about hearing. She pasted a welcoming smile on her face before she turned to greet the sheriff. It was the first she had seen of him since their confrontation the previous evening.

“Good evening, Felton. Are you sure you want to dance? It doesn't seem to be the evening for it.” She gestured to the barren dance floor.

“Then we can be the ones to break the ice,” he said. “I insist.”

He already had her by the elbow, urging her toward the center of the room. There was no way she could escape without causing a scene. Naturally, the moment they reached the center of the floor, the music ended. There was nothing for them to do but stand there waiting for the next tune to begin.

“I didn't expect to see you. Did you ever finish your business?” she asked.

“I decided to postpone my trip.”

Miss Devlin found herself staring at the sheriff's bushy mustache, wondering whether it was soft or not, and what it would feel like against her face during a kiss. Mercifully, before she could follow those thoughts any further, the music, a slow waltz tune, began.

“Shall we?” Felton placed one hand firmly at her waist and held up the other, waiting for her palm to be placed in his.

To Miss Devlin's surprise, Felton was quite an accomplished dancer. His step wasy to follow, and since she had so little experience dancing, she was grateful for his firm lead. If she hadn't felt quite so self-conscious about being the only ones on the dance floor, she might actually have enjoyed herself.

She compared the feeling of being comfortable in Felton's arms with the anxiety she had felt being held by Kerrigan. Somehow Miss Devlin thought she ought to feel something more than comfortable and less than anxious when a man held her in his arms—although she wasn't sure exactly what.

As Felton had predicted, several single gentlemen asked ladies to dance, so they were not alone on the dance floor long. Nevertheless, she was glad when the dance ended.

“Thank you, Felton.” Miss Devlin's intended retreat to the ladies' side of the room was quickly halted when Felton once again snagged her elbow.

“Surely I deserve another dance.”

The tone of voice and the choice of words, especially after the scene with Kerrigan the past evening, raised Miss Devlin's hackles. “I'm afraid this dance is promised.”

“To who?”

“To whom.”

“To
whom
?” he grated.

“To me.”

Miss Devlin whirled and found herself face-to-face with Hadley Westbrook.

“Bound to be a little difficult to dance with that broken wing. How about letting me step in for you?” the sheriff cajoled with a confident smile.

“I'll manage,” Hadley replied with an equally determined smile.

“Excuse us, Felton. The music is starting.”

Fortunately it was another slow waltz, and Hadley was able to manage by putting one hand on Miss Devlin's waist while she rested one hand on his shoulder and the other on the crook of the arm he held in the sling.

“That was quite gallant of you,” Miss Devlin said. “But I could have managed without your help.”

“I wanted to talk to you in private,” Hadley said. “This was the only way I could think of to do it.”

“What's wrong?” Miss Devlin asked, responding to the urgency in Hadley's voice.

“It's Bliss. I haven't been able to get near her. My father has me watched like a hawk. I wondered if there's a way you could help. Maybe Bliss could come see you and I could meet her—”

“If you don't get together tonight you'll surely see Bliss in school on Monday. I can't help you sneak around behind your parents' backs, Hadley. It wouldn't be right.”

“To hell with what's right!” Hadley snarled in a voice that was all the more vicious for the control he exercised to keep it quiet. “I need to talk to Bliss, to be alone with her. And I will see her, with or without your help.”

To Miss Devlin's dismay, Hadley left her standing in the middle of the dance floor and stalked away in high dudgeon. He never even glanced in the direction of Bliss, who stood surrounded by the protective wool skirts of her mother and the other nester wives.

Miss Devlin took one look at the longing in Bliss's eyes as her gaze followed Hadley out the door and knew she was going to help the two lovers get together. She would deal with her conscience later.

As though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, she strolled back to the distaff side of the room. Regina had seen Hadley's precipitous departure and was at Miss Devlin's side as soon as she reached the edge of the dance floor.

“What got into Hadley?” his mother demanded. “I never raised my son to be rude. What did he say to you? What did you say to him?”

“What did I . . . ? Nothing! As a matter of fact, if you must know,” Miss Devlin said, thinking quickly, “I told him he would have to make up all the work he missed in school, and that I wasn't going to excuse him just because he'd managed to get himself shot, however romantic his wound might seem to his friends.”

“Is that all?”

“It was quite enough to set Hadley on his ear.”

Regina shook her head in confusion. “I don't understand what's gotten into him lately. I can't talk to him anymore, he's so contrary, and for no good reason that I can see. At first I thought he was bothered about that Davis girl. Of course, I warned him to stay away from her, forbade him even to mention the creature in my presence, but you know boys when they get an idea into their heads.”

In light of those sentiments, Miss Devlin wondered what would happen when Regina Westbrook found out she was about to become a grandmother, and that the mother of her grandchild was the “creature” she had forbidden her son to mention in her presence.

“I'll talk to Hadley,” Miss Devlin promised. “Maybe I can find out what's troubling him.”

“I hope so,” Regina said, “because really, I've had about enough of this nonsense. If you'll excuse me, I think I could use a cup of hot spiced tea and a slice of pumpkin pie, although whoever made that pie needs a cooking lesson. It looks raw on the inside and burnt on the edges.”

Miss Devlin didn't even have time to feel chagrined at the insult to her pie before Bliss Davis arrived at her sid

“What's the matter with Hadley, Miss Devlin? I saw him leave. He looked so angry! My mother won't let me out of her sight, so I haven't been able to speak to him all evening.” Which meant she hadn't been able to tell him she was going to have his child.

“Hadley's parents have forbidden him to talk to you,” Miss Devlin said with a sigh.

“How could they? What are we going to do?”

Seeing Bliss on the verge of tears, Miss Devlin cautioned, “This is no time to be lily-livered. Besides, I've decided to help you and Hadley meet—so you can talk—and I suppose it'll have to be at my house so I can act as your chaperone,” she continued, thinking aloud. “I'll get word to you when to come. Just be patient.”

“Thank you, Miss Devlin. You're an angel of mercy. Thank you so much.”

Miss Devlin did her best to cut off Bliss's effusive praise, because it only served to convince her she was treading dangerous ground helping the two impetuous lovers get together in the face of their parents' disapproval. Tragedy had resulted from such meddling in
Romeo and Juliet
. But really, what else could she do?

They deserved all the help she could give them. She might even learn something from them in the process. For, in the face of tremendous obstacles—the objection of their parents, a threatening range war, their youth—they had the courage to reach out for happiness.