Wicked Wyoming Nights (35 page)

Eliza stumbled along as Cord dragged her across the rough ground. She tried to pull back, as much in anger at his harsh treatment as in reluctance to find irrefutable proof of her uncle’s guilt, but Cord was much too powerful and she was forced to keep up with him.

“What’s happening now?” Cord asked Franklin as they moved into position behind the rocks.

“They’re still bringing calves in from the range, but they’ve started to brand them.” He nodded to Eliza, but his grim expression didn’t alter. “I’m having a difficult time holding the boys back. One of those calves belongs to Rick.”

“They don’t have to wait any longer. I just wanted Miss Smallwood to see what was happening.”

“What are you going to do to them?” Eliza asked uneasily.

“Why do you care? I thought you denied your uncle was here.”

“I can’t recognize anybody this far away,” she said evasively.

“We can get closer. Just stay in the shadows and keep quiet.” They moved into an open space between the rocks and Eliza had an unobstructed view of the rustling operation. The men moved quietly and efficiently, cold-branding each calf and putting it into the corral before going after the next one. Croley Blaine stood at the center of the operation, directing the men mostly with signals, and next to him, holding the iron that made a painless brand that would last just long enough to drive the animals to safe territory, was Ira Smallwood. Eliza felt as if she would collapse, but she actually grew tense, furious, and alert.

“Stay down or they’ll see you,” Cord warned, but before he could stop her, Eliza sprinted toward the group doing the branding.

“Run!” she screamed. “Cord’s men are behind those rocks.”

The effect on both groups was instantaneous. Firing in the general direction of the rocks and making little effort to avoid hitting Eliza, the rustlers abandoned the evidence of their guilt and ran for their horses.

“Come back, you little fool,” Cord shouted, and ran after her. A bullet grazed his thigh as he pulled her to the ground, but he didn’t loosen his grip even though she fell on top of him. The Matador crew streamed past in pursuit.

“What were you trying to do?” Cord demanded, sitting up and inspecting the damage to his leg.

“I hope they get away,” Eliza flung at him, between sobs.

“You could have been killed.”

“I wish I had been.” She pulled away from Cord and rose to her feet.

“I wouldn’t be sitting here with a grazed leg if you’d stayed still.” Cord wrapped a bandanna around his wound.

“I wish it had grazed your
head
,” said Eliza, walking away from him. She was at it again, saying things she didn’t mean. The thought of Cord lying in his own blood made her feel sick.

“You seem to forget I was the one who was being robbed,” Cord said angrily. He struggled awkwardly to his feet and followed her. “
I
was the one who held my men back so your uncle wouldn’t be hurt.”

“Don’t talk to me,” Eliza said, almost running in the dark.

“I seem to be talking at you,” Cord responded, his bitter resentment denying any warm feeling for her. “You’re not hearing a word I say.”

“Don’t come near me. Don’t speak to me. Don’t even look at me.”

“You’ve got to put up with me for a while yet unless you’re prepared to walk back to town. I only have one buggy.”

“You can ride your horse.”

“He’s at the ranch. I took the buggy because I thought it would be more comfortable for you. I never thought you’d be so ungrateful as to throw it in my face.”

“You ought to be glad you’re saved from marrying such a selfish ingrate.”

“I thought you were a kind, sweet, sensible woman, but you’re almost as bad as Eugenia. At least she never pretended to be anything but what she was.”

“And I thought you were a loving, thoughtful man, not some kind of beast who brutalizes everything about him.”

“I thought I’d found the woman I was looking for,” Cord snapped, suddenly losing his temper, “but I was mistaken.”

“You weren’t looking for a woman,” Eliza said, choking with sobs. “You were looking for the naive, stupid, credulous female I was when you saw me at the creek. But I grew up, and you didn’t like that.” She struggled to control her tears. “There’s no point in discussing it any more. I want to go home, and I don’t ever want to see you again.”

“You said that before.”

“I mean it this time.”

“You’ll get your wish. I’m tired of throwing myself at a female too weak to shed worn-out loyalties and too scared to shoulder the responsibility of honesty and fair play.”

Eliza felt ready to burst with indignation, but she clamped her hands over her ears and refused to open her mouth.

She sat in determined silence as Cord drove back toward town, but when he turned on to the path that led to the Haughtons’ cabin, she was surprised into speech. “Where are we going?”

“I’m going to find out what Sam knows about this.”

“I don’t want to go to the Haughtons,” Eliza said freezingly.

“I don’t give a damn what you want. I want some answers, and I mean to have them now.”

“But you can’t believe Sam had anything to do with this. I promise you, they’re honest people.”

“You can’t really expect me to have any faith in your assurances,” Cord said, ruthlessly clubbing her reeling pride. “Less than an hour ago you were swearing your uncle had nothing to do with stealing my cows.”

Eliza gripped her seat with both hands to keep the volcano of rage burning within her from erupting, rage at Cord, rage at her uncle, rage at being helplessly caught between them.

“You are a cruel and unforgiving man,” she exploded, unable to muzzle all her pain. “I’m not surprised no one likes or trusts you.”

Chapter 26

Eliza could have bitten her tongue. The words were mean-spirited and cruel. Even though they weren’t true, they were close enough to hurt.

“I know there are many who distrust me,” Cord replied after a pause, “but I never associated you with them.”

Eliza felt she had been slapped, but maybe she deserved it. Cord had compelled her to accompany him, but he was only forcing her to face the truth; she was trying to erase her shame by injuring him with words, as if
any
words could erase the pain in her heart.

She was so shocked at having her uncle’s guilt irrefutably confirmed, she could only react violently against the agent of her disgrace. Her pride was lacerated, she felt disgusted with her uncle and ashamed to be his niece, and all she could think of was to get away from the one man in the whole world before whom her humiliation was unbearable. She had defended her uncle in public and turned her back on Cord, yet he had proved her judgment at fault and her loyalty misplaced. Her championing of her uncle, her refusal to believe anything Cord said, her breaking their engagement and refusal to see or speak to him had all been grave injustices, and she had persisted in them against the weight of Cord’s sworn word and the advice of every person whose opinion she respected. How could she expect Cord to believe she still loved him, or feel she was worthy of love?

And until he lost his temper tonight, he had been a perfect gentleman, never saying anything cruel and unkind. All the more reason for Eliza to feel a screaming need to run away.

Cord stared straight ahead, saddened and discouraged. He had been so sure Eliza would return to him once she knew the truth about Ira, that she would see, in his refusal to allow his men to harm her uncle, he was only trying to defend what was his and not to harm her uncle. He simply could not understand why facing the truth should make her run away. It wasn’t as though he thought she had anything to do with the rustling scheme. Even if he hadn’t loved her, he wouldn’t think her dishonest.

He hadn’t meant to fall in love with Eliza, or anyone else after Eugenia, but Eliza had seemed so different, so innocent and loving his defenses had collapsed with only token resistance. The weeks before the trial had been the most wonderful of his life, and he had started to take it for granted she would always be at his side. He knew he still wanted her there, but if she couldn’t take him the way he was, he was determined to stamp out his love for her.

Maybe being a rancher’s wife wasn’t glamorous and exciting enough. Maybe she was like the rest of her sex, irrational, unreasoning, and greedy. Yet Cord was forced to admit that even if the worst were true, he still wanted her back.

Miserable, angry, and confused, the two rode in silence until Franklin overtook them.

“Blaine and Smallwood got away, but the rest won’t be stealing Matador cattle anytime soon,” he announced with grim satisfaction.

“What did you do?” Eliza asked, quivering with revulsion.

“Nothing they won’t get over, but you needn’t look for them at the saloon for a while.”

“I don’t know those people,” Eliza stated coldly, “and I don’t look for them anywhere.”

Franklin’s attitude toward Eliza did not soften. “You can also tell your uncle and Croley their luck has run out. The next time we won’t settle for a few broken bones.”

Eliza turned to Cord.

“Twice I wouldn’t let anybody touch Ira because of you and twice he got away,” said Cord. “I won’t do it again.”

“Do you mean you’d kill him?” Eliza asked terrified.

“No, but I can’t watch the men all the time, and it’s their job to deal with outlaws any way they can. If I continue to allow Ira to go unpunished, others will think they can do what he does.”

Eliza slumped in her seat, truly aware for the first time of the dangerous consequences of her uncle’s irrational hate, and horrified that Cord could be the instrument of his punishment.

Franklin was at the Haughtons’ before Cord drew the buggy to a stop. He hammered on the door with the stock of his rifle, but got no answer.

“They must have been asleep for hours,” Eliza protested.

“That’s what I mean to find out,” Cord replied.

“Sam couldn’t have anything to do with the rustlers. He was at the saloon until it closed,” Eliza pointed out.

“Not necessarily,” Cord said.

“He had to be,” Eliza argued. “If Uncle and Mr. Blaine weren’t there and I was at the party, that left only Iris and Sam. You must have seen Sam when you stopped for her.”

“There’s been many a farmer who’s turned a blind eye to rustlers using his land,” Franklin volunteered before applying himself to the door with renewed energy. It was finally opened by a very pregnant Susan, who regarded them with a sleepy lack of comprehension.

“Eliza? What are you doing here?” she asked drowsily, her stomach protruding so much it looked like she could be hiding Sam under her nightgown.

“Looking for your husband,” Franklin announced as he pushed past into the cabin. Loud snores coming from an unlighted corner of the cabin guided Franklin unerringly to the rumpled bed where Sam lay sound asleep.

“Get up,” Franklin called, unceremoniously pulling off the covers.

With her mind full of the murders of less than a month ago, Susan Haughton let out a shriek and placed her ungainly bulk between her husband and his presumed attacker.

“Don’t touch my Sam. He hasn’t done anything. For the love of God, Eliza, don’t let them kill him.”

“They aren’t going to hurt him” Eliza assured her, moving between Franklin and her friend. “They just want to know if Sam’s been in bed ever since he got back from the saloon.”

“Of course he has,” Susan said emphatically. “He was so drunk he could hardly find his way home.”

“Wake him up,” Cord ordered. “I want to talk to him.”

“No,” Susan said, determined to hold her position between Franklin and her husband, but Franklin picked her up and moved her out of the way.

“This is barbarous,” Eliza cried, half angry, half fearful. “Make him stop.”

Cord shook his head at Franklin. “He won’t hurt her, but I’ve got to know if Sam is involved with the rustlers.”

“We’ve never had anything to do with rustlers,” Susan stated proudly, drawing herself up to her full height of five feet and one inch. “We may be poor, but we’re not thieves.”

“That’s what everybody says,” Cord stated cynically.

“It’s true,” Susan insisted. “We don’t have to worry about money anymore now Sam’s got a job at the saloon.”

“Mama, what’s wrong?” Billy stuck his head out of the loft, and his eyes widened with alarm when he saw the two men.

“It’s just Mr. Stedman wanting to ask your pa a few questions. You go on back to sleep.” But it was impossible for Billy to sleep, and he tumbled out of the loft, too courageous to stay hidden, but so frightened he began to cry when Franklin threw a dipper of water in his father’s face.

Rudely jerked awake by the icy water, Sam glowered at the intruders. “What in the hell are you two doing here?”

“What do you mean by letting rustlers use your land to steal Matador calves?”

Sam looked at Cord like he was a madman. “What rustlers?” Sam asked, trying to clear his cloudy brain. “I don’t know what in blazes you’re talking about. Now get out of my cabin before I get my shotgun.” Franklin pushed him back down on the bed.