The Texan's Reward (17 page)

Everyone waited, having no doubt the preacher would tel them the news when he finished. Jacob reached the

bottom of the stairs but made no effort to cross the room.

Brother Aaron opened his eyes and smiled at Nel . “The Lord hath made it plain to me that I’m needed here, and

here I’ll stay until my work is done.”

Jacob frowned. “You wouldn’t know how long this tour of duty wil be, do you, Reverend?”

The old man shook his head and returned to his place at the breakfast table. “A man builds up a powerful

hunger talking to the Lord.”

Nell patted the ranger’s shoulder. “I’ve room for one more. At least for a while. There’s plenty of hay in the loft,

and I can afford the food.”

“I’d argue, after listening to him snore half the night,” Jacob whispered. “But another gun might come in handy

if our night shooter returns.”

“You think Brother Aaron would kill someone?” Nell whispered as Jacob slowly crossed the room with her.

He turned so that his lips brushed her ear as he answered, “The old man told me yesterday at one of our many

rest stops that he fought under General Lee during the war. He said he was with the man from secession to

surrender. Told me he was shot three different times. The last time he was in an army hospital for six months.

That’s when he decided, if he lived, he’d head west, spreading the word to sinners. He planned to work his way

to California, but Texas has kept him busy for twenty years.”

Nell looked at the reverend again with renewed respect. “You think he’s telling the truth?”

“About the war, yes.” Jacob was so close he could have kissed her cheek with little effort. “About the devil living

in Texas? No.”

Nell brushed Jacob’s hair back once more, fighting the urge to kiss his bruise. “I’m not so sure. There are sides of

you, Jacob Dalton, that I didn’t know existed. It might be interesting to see if there is a halo or horns beneath al

that hair.”

“Does that mean you’ll reconsider my offer of marriage?”

“If I do, wil you agree that if I don’t pick you as my husband, you’l be nice to the one I do choose?”

He frowned. “I don’t like the idea that someone else is even in the running.”

“Jacob, you’re not in the running unless you agree.” She saw a fire deep in his eyes and knew she’d put it there.

“All right,” he agreed, still holding her gaze. “How about I agree that I won’t kill him? Would that be enough? I

don’t know that I can go so far as being nice. It goes against my nature.”

She laughed. “Fair enough.”

He walked slow enough that Gypsy had time to bump the wheelchair down the stairs. Jacob sat Nell at the head

of the table, and they both turned to watch Wednesday slowly making her way toward them. The journey

wasn’t easy for someone who couldn’t see her feet.

“How’s our little pregnant weekday?” Jacob asked.

“Much better today, I think.” Nell smiled as the girl waddled along.

Wednesday wore a morning shift, the kind women often wore around the house when no company was

expected. Nel had ordered the thing months ago, thinking she’d like it, but she’d never worn it. The garment

reminded her of something halfway between a dress and a gown, not dressy enough to be seen in public, not

comfortable enough to sleep in. However, now that she saw it on a pregnant woman, Nel was glad she hadn’t

thrown the dress away. Wednesday must have hemmed it up a foot to make it fit her height.

The little mother-to-be reached the bottom of the stairs, took a deep breath, and hurried across the room as

Marla set the girl’s milk on the table. “Morning, Ranger.” Wednesday took a drink of the milk and left a thin

white line on her upper lip. “You were right; I slept like a log in your wife’s house.”

“Wife?” Nell asked Wednesday, but watched Jacob. “Moving a little fast, Dalton? I just agreed to consider your

offer two minutes ago.”

“I may have jumped the gun, but I didn’t real y say we were married. She misunderstood.”

“But . . .” Wednesday started.

“Lord!” The preacher raised his hands and shouted to the ceiling. “You’ve placed me in a house of wayward

souls.” He looked around the table. “Is no one married at this table?”

Silence. Marla slipped into her place with her head down. Wednesday seemed busy fil ing her plate with eggs.

Harrison looked like he’d lost interest in the conversation, and Jacob frowned, as usual.

“No,” Gypsy finally spoke. “But I’m willing if you’re offering, preacher. I’ve always had a fancy for white-haired

men.”

Nell fought down a giggle. In her day Gypsy had a fancy for all men with hair, and a few without, but that was

the past, and the house was respectable now. “Brother Aaron, the men sleep in the barn.”

He raised his fork. “And the devil lies between them and the women.”

“Maybe that’s why we need you, Reverend,” Harrison said calmly. “To act as chaperone.”

“What’s a chaperone?” Gypsy asked as she poured cream gravy over her pancakes.

Brother Aaron grinned. “That, Mr. Harrison, will be my mission. I’ll guard the virtues of these fair ladies with my

life.”

“It’s a little late for me.” Wednesday downed half her milk. “But I thank you for the offer.”

“Not for me.” Gypsy smiled. “I’ve been waiting years for someone to guard my virtues.”

Nell had never felt so much like laughing since her accident. She glanced across the table and met Jacob’s gaze.

To her surprise, he winked at her. She couldn’t help but wonder if the devil in the darkness Brother Aaron had

fought with last night might be planning to get past the guard tonight.

She smiled back, thinking how nice sitting with him out by the windmil had been.

He’d done it again, she thought. He’d made her feel like a woman. Only now she knew a secret that she hadn’t

guessed before. Maybe she was the one who made him feel like a man.

Lively conversation whirled over breakfast. Harrison, now that Jacob had returned, could get on with taking care

of Nel ’s books. The first thing he wanted to do was ride out to the Stockard place. Walter Farrow would be

showing up again any day, and he’d expect Nel to have a price ready.

Remembering Farrow’s threat kil ed her appetite. Nell didn’t like the man, but that wouldn’t keep her from

selling him the land if it truly was no good for ranching or farming. Sheriff Parker told her once that outlaws

sometimes hung out at Stockard’s place. It was hard to reach, so lawmen didn’t often make the trip out that far

from town. Stockard’s cabin had been built on a hil , not down in the valley where it would be safe from the

weather. Parker said by the time he could ride up to the front door, anyone could have seen him coming far

enough away to be long gone out the back.

Even the man who’d ambushed her, Zeb Whitaker, was reported to have spent a winter hiding out there. Zeb

had been an old buffalo hunter who, once the herds were gone, had made his living robbing folks. Talk was,

years ago he’d killed a man and stolen two saddlebags full of gold. Only while he tried to get away, his horse

broke a leg. Zeb found himself on the run and on foot. After walking for two days, he passed a wagon with three

young women in it. He decided to just take their wagon, claiming they were near dead anyway.

He probably would have gotten away, but he picked the youngest one to take with him as a bed warmer. Lacy,

Nel ’s best friend, hadn’t been any older than Wednesday at the time. Angered, the women fought back,

clubbing the old buffalo hunter and leaving him for dead. When he came to, his gold was gone.

Nell knew al three women, and she believed none of them took the gold, but Zeb kept trying to track them

down and get it back. Or maybe, as one of the women once told Nel , Zeb just needed someone to hate, and he

picked them to blame for all his troubles.

Smiling at Jacob, Nel remembered how he’d shot Zeb. The ranger had been there for her and her friends the

night Whitaker had thought to kill them all.

“What’s so funny?” Jacob asked.

Everyone else at the table seemed too busy eating to respond.

“Nothing,” she said. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Jacob nodded. She didn’t miss the promise in his eyes.

Harrison stood and picked up his plate. “I’d better be on my way if I want to get to the Stockard place and back

by dark. The sheriff said this morning he’d ride out in his buggy as far as the road goes, then I’ll make the rest of

the trail alone.”

“I’d like to go with you,” Jacob said.

Both men glanced at Nell. There was no need for more conversation on the matter. They both knew someone

had to stay near her.

Harrison raised an eyebrow as he said, “You’ll stay with her until I get back?”

Jacob nodded, recognizing his own words. “I’l be here until you return.”

A few minutes later, Jacob and the preacher fol owed the bookkeeper out while Marla and Gypsy cleaned the

table. Nell, for lack of anything else to do, showed Wednesday the material she’d ordered all the way from

Kansas.

“I can sew,” Wednesday volunteered. “My ma says I sew better than anyone in my family, including my

grandma.”

“Would you like to help me put a quilt together?” Nel asked. “Quilting is something I can do from this chair.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” Wednesday seemed happy to find some way she could be of help.

“Anything else you’d like to make, you’re welcome to the material. I think I’ve ordered far too much.”

“You mean it?”

Nell smiled. “I mean it.”

An hour later, Wednesday and Nell were having a great time. Gypsy finished her chores and sat nearby. Her

hands were too crippled up with arthritis to sew, but she seemed to enjoy the company. Within minutes, she fel

asleep in her favorite chair.

The preacher returned, claiming the sunny day was getting the better of him. He walked around picking up first

one book, then another, until he finally settled on the newspaper Harrison had been reading at breakfast.

He walked out to the porch, reading as he moved.

Nell wasn’t surprised to see that he’d strapped an old Walker Colt to his side. She guessed Jacob had talked to

him about the danger the women faced.

Around midmorning, Marla brought tea and stayed to join them for a cup. Brother Aaron took his to the porch.

Though Marla could cook anything, she couldn’t sew. Her dresses were store-bought, and most were worn thin

from washing. She seemed fascinated with the way quilt pieces fit together.

Wednesday hadn’t lied about her skills. Her short little fingers worked a needle faster than Nell had ever seen,

and her stitches were straighter than any sewing machine could have made. The girl never seemed to look at her

hands as she talked and worked nonstop.

“How’d you learn to do that?” Nell finally asked.

“It was either sew or go outside and work in the field.” Wednesday didn’t look up from her work as she squared

the corners where two pieces slipped together perfectly. “As I got better, I found out I real y liked it.” She leaned

closer to Nell. “I could make Mr. Harrison a new shirt out of this cotton, if you like. He’s about the size of my

second brother, so I don’t need to measure.”

“Al right.” Nell wondered what it was about Harrison that made the women want to take care of him. She knew

they al liked the ranger, but Marla hadn’t asked to wash Jacob’s clothes, and Wednesday hadn’t offered him a

shirt. Even Gypsy was always filling Mr. Harrison’s cup and slicing him an extra-large dessert. Nell stopped

sewing. Hadn’t she done the same thing? She’d offered him a job when she knew he needed one.

She grinned. It’s a wonder the man wasn’t the best-dressed, richest, fattest man in Texas if all women reacted to

him the way they had. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was about him that drew women. He was polite, a

little standoffish. Quiet, but when he talked, it seemed like he’d been asked to swear on a Bible to whatever he

said. His only passion was his work, which he couldn’t wait to get back to. In three days she’d learned to trust

him. He was a fine man.

The games she’d played with Jacob when she kissed him needed to stop. Nel had to be sensible. Jacob was a

man full of life. He needed a wife who could love him with a wildness of passion she’d never be able to offer

with her light kisses. Mr. Harrison would much better suit her as a husband. He knew business and figures. If she

married Jacob, he’d be constantly torn between riding off to do his duty and staying home to help her. Harrison

was looking for the security of a home and a business that needed work. Jacob would see the same fate as a

prison.

Accidentally stabbing her finger, Nell fought to keep from swearing. The hurt inside was far deeper than the

prick. She had to think with her head, not her heart. She remembered how one of her teachers used to say that

knowing what was right and doing what was right don’t always run on the same track.

Well, she knew what was right for Jacob, and that was for him to walk away from her and get on with his life.

The clank of Sheriff Parker’s wagon drew her attention. Thankful for the distraction, she asked Wednesday to

open the door so she could greet him on the porch. She hadn’t expected him back until near suppertime, but

maybe he picked up more mail after he saw Mr. Harrison to the turnoff to the Stockard place.

His old wagon rattled and squeaked so loudly she thought she could hear it coming almost from the time the

sheriff left town. She waited on the porch for him.

As soon as he came into sight, Nell knew something was wrong. “Wednesday!” Nell tried to keep her voice calm.