Wicked Wyoming Nights (36 page)

“Why did you let Blaine’s gang corral my stock on your place?” Cord’s inflexible determination sounded in his voice.

“I don’t know what you are talking about. Nobody’s been using my land.” Sam was angry, but he was also wary; the icy menace in Cord’s voice unsettled him.

“Don’t waste time denying it. We found the corral and caught the gang cold-branding yearlings. They could have been in Montana before the end of the week without anybody being the wiser.”

“You’re just making this up so you can get my land,” Sam said, his uneasy gaze shifting from Cord to Franklin. “I’m not selling, and you’re not running me off.”

“This is no bluff” Franklin dragged Sam to his feet and sent him to the floor with a right to the jaw. Susan screamed and Billy threw himself at Franklin, driving his little fists into his stomach.

“Leave my pa alone,” he cried, shaking with sobs. “He didn’t touch your old cows.”

Cord picked up the child and handed him to Eliza. “Keep him out of the way.”

Eliza clutched Billy to her, staring at Cord in stunned horror.

“Now I’m going to ask you one more time about that corral,” Cord said, turning back to Sam.

“I don’t know anything about a corral. Anyone passing by could see if I had one.”

“Not here. Up in those canyons.”

“I never go up there. There’s not enough grass to keep a sheep alive.”

“That’s what Blaine was counting on. That and everybody being busy because it’s Christmas.”

Finally Sam understood what Cord had been saying. “But there couldn’t be a corral up there and me not know it.”

“You’ve got over a thousand acres.”

“How do you know?”

“I make it my business to know, though I could never understand why you wanted those hills.”

“Greed,” said Sam gloomily, “and the excitement of getting so much land for almost nothing. I didn’t have enough sense to realize it wasn’t worm the paper the deed was written on.”

“Is that why you decided to let Blaine use it?”

“I never let Blaine or anybody else use my land,” Sam reiterated, his voice rising with annoyance. “Not now, not ever.”

“You’d better be telling the truth.” Franklin made a threatening move, but Cord checked him with a any shake of his bead.

“Stop it!” Eliza cried. “No herd of cows is worm terrorizing innocent people.” Susan had turned white; Billy’s whole body was shaking.

“I’m not sure they are innocent,” Cord said. “Now I want some straight answers.”

Sam swallowed hard. “I don’t know anything about a corral, or any rustlers. We were about to starve when Miss Smallwood talked her uncle into giving me a job at the saloon, but I’ve never had any truck with rustling. Billy even got into a fight in school because the other kids thought I was a fool not to help myself with your steers practically coming up to the door.”

“That’s true,” Susan said quickly. “Tell him it’s true, Eliza.” Eliza nodded her head.

“Maybe Blaine wouldn’t let you
keep
that precious job unless you agreed to help him?” Cord suggested, still not convinced.

“I wouldn’t let thieves use my land to keep a job,” Sam burst out. “I want to see that blasted corral. How do I know it exists?”

“Tell him,” Cord commanded Eliza sharply. Eliza stared at Cord, horrified he would ask her to humiliate herself still further. “Tell them what you saw if you’re so interested in helping.”

“There really is a corral,” Eliza said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I saw Mr. Blaine and a lot of other men branding calves.” Cord’s gaze, implacable and demanding, never once left Eliza’s face. “I saw my uncle too,” she said, nearly choking on the words.

She raised her eyes, and Cord was staggered at the blazing fury he saw, the kind of unyielding, unforgiving rage that could easily turn to hate. He felt sick inside, and for an instant was tempted to ignore the cows and rustlers and everything else if Eliza would just forget everything and go back to loving him the way she had during the summer. The thought of her tenderness and her beauty nearly swayed his determination, but the long years of struggle had built a powerful habit within him and his resolve hardened. If she couldn’t love him like he was, then he could do without her just as he had done without Eugenia. Some voice deep inside warned him it wasn’t so, but Cord resolutely closed his mind; on this there could be no compromise.

“I want to see it for myself,” Sam insisted.

“Stay with the women,” Cord told Franklin. “We won’t be long.”

Defeat seemed to have destroyed Sam’s dislike for Cord, and during the short trip he poured out his whole history. The sight of the abandoned corral banished any lingering resistance.

“I can’t believe it,” he said over and over. Even he could see how impossible it was to detect from the plains below, and there was an uncontested route to Montana through land honeycombed with the small holdings of sympathetic ranchers and homesteaders. “They could have gone on using this place for years. And I thought you were just trying to scare us off.”

“I always wanted this land, but I’ve never sunk to terrorizing innocent people. At least, not before tonight,” Cord added.

“I see why you didn’t believe me, but I’m too easily unnerved to be a crook,” Sam said with an effort not to show how greatly relieved he was. “Sooner or later I’d get liquored up and say the wrong thing.”

“We won’t bother you any more, but I want to pull down that corral and check these hills regularly.”

“You can do anything you want as long as you don’t upset Susan. She’s due soon and she’s had a hard time of it.”

Cord started back and Sam followed, wondering what was in Cord’s mind. He
thought
he was fair-minded, but a man like Cord was extremely dangerous when cornered, and with rustlers and their sympathizers on every side, Sam admitted Cord had reason to be suspicious.

While Sam was reaching a kind of understanding of Cord’s position, Eliza was back at the cabin moving even further away. The door hadn’t closed behind Cord when she rushed to Susan’s side.

“I would appreciate it if you could wait outside,” she said to Franklin, who was being eyed by Billy as though he were a combination of Jessie James and the Bogy Man.

“I told Mr. Stedman I’d watch you.”

“Where could we go at this time of night?” Eliza snapped, surprised at the sharpness of her own voice.

“The boy could run into those hills.”

“It’s unlikely he could outrun your horse,” she said caustically. “And surely you don’t mean to accuse this poor woman of stealing your cows?”

Like every cowboy, Franklin was at a disadvantage when faced by a woman, especially a woman like Eliza. Besides, holding pregnant women and little boys hostage was against his nature, and now that his temper had cooled he was a little ashamed of himself.

“Okay,” he said, and stepped out into the night. Billy, released from his fear, rushed to his mother.

“What are they going to do to my Sam?” Susan exclaimed, clutching her son to her protruding stomach.

“Nothing,” Eliza answered, trying to sound calm and assured. “Cord was just trying to make sure Sam wasn’t involved with the rustlers.”

“Were there
really
rustlers in the canyon?” Susan’s curiosity quickly replaced her fear.

“Yes,” Eliza said lowering her gaze. “I saw them myself.” Susan was perceptive enough to realize Eliza had suffered as much because of her uncle’s guilt as she had from fear, and she did not pursue the subject.

“How long before they’ll be back?”

“Twenty minutes. The canyon isn’t far.”

“I’m going to make some coffee. Would you like some?”

“Very much,” Eliza said, sinking into a chair. She was terribly tired, and suddenly the whole nightmarish situation seemed so overwhelming she felt like crying. Odd that as soon as Susan regained her control, she should lose hers. Never in her life had she felt such an overpowering desire to scream and throw things.

“Mr. Stedman is a bad man and I hate him,” Billy announced to Eliza. “Why did you let him hurt my pa?”

“You should be ashamed of yourself, Billy Haughton, for talking to Miss Smallwood like that.”

“But she didn’t make him stop. He’s her friend and everybody says he does things for her.”

“Hush, boy, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Let him alone, Susan. He’s partly right. Mr. Stedman was my friend,” Eliza said, struggling to keep her voice steady, “but we aren’t friends any longer and I can’t make him do anything.”

“Why?” Billy asked. “I thought everybody liked you.” Eliza looked to Susan for help, but Susan was awaiting Eliza’s explanation just as anxiously as her son.

“Lots of times people find they don’t agree on some very important things.”

“Like Ma and Pa arguing about the saloon?”

“Yes, but your mother and father have found a way to solve their differences.”

“They still fight.” Susan blushed while Eliza searched for a way to explain the difference to the small boy.

“People can disagree and still be friends, but sometimes the things you disagree about are too important and you stop being friends.”

“Like with Mr. Stedman?”

“Yes, like Mr. Stedman.”

“Won’t you ever like him again?”

Eliza thought she was going to burst into uncontrollable tears. “Could you love a man who threatened your friends and their children?”

“I never loved Mr. Stedman. I only liked him a little.”

“Of course,” Eliza replied with a breaking voice. “I meant to say
like
.”

“You leave Miss Smallwood alone,” Susan said, fearing Eliza might break down any minute. “Go outside and watch for your pa. Be sure to tell Mr. Church you don’t mean to run away.”

“I ought to throw a rock at his head.”

“Don’t you dare. Now get out of here.” The boy left reluctantly, and Susan got busy with the coffee while Eliza tried to collect herself.

“I’m sorry for Billy’s questions,” Susan apologized. “He’s used to us telling him everything.”

“That’s all right,” Eliza said, sniffing. “It’s about time I admitted it was over. You knew I was in love with him, I guess everybody did, but I was such a fool I thought it was a secret.”

“Is it really over?”

“Yes.”

“I’m so sorry,” Susan said, and Eliza burst into tears.

“Will you have any trouble with your uncle when you return?” Cord asked. They had been riding for several minutes without exchanging a word. “I could explain I forced you to go with me.”

“No!” Eliza said, jerking bolt upright. “If you so much as come within sight of the saloon something terrible will happen.”

“I don’t want you to suffer because of me.”

Eliza wanted to scream wildly that her uncle’s anger was but a drop in the ocean of misery Cord had caused her. An agony so profound she felt as though she wanted to die consumed her, tempting her to plead with him to assure her he was not the same man who had brought her uncle to trial and invaded the Haughtons’ home, that some pretender had taken his place so the wonderful, kind, loving Cord she knew would receive the blame. But a single glance at his rigid jaw and unyielding eyes told her she was merely indulging in a daydream. This was the same man to whom she had given her heart and body without reservation. Part of her seemed to die a little.

“It shouldn’t be hard for you to convince him I forced you to go with me, not after the way you warned them.”

“No, it won’t be very hard,” she replied. Even though she didn’t look his way again, she was acutely aware of his presence, the sheer force of his physical nearness. She clenched her fists, shutting her eyes to free herself of the temptation to look at that mesmerizing profile once again. She could
feel
his hands on her body, his lips on hers, his lean, powerful loins thrusting into her in pursuit of an ecstasy that fulfilled them both. She struggled to blot those memories out of her mind, but nothing could rid her of the awareness of his nearness.

She was also aware of the brute strength, the inflexible, driving will of this man who had brought himself up from cowboy to ranch owner. She had known only the kind, warm, loving side of him, but now she saw the ruthless, unstoppable man Wyoming knew as Cord Stedman. She could
feel
the steel, the sheer grit, the killer instinct that had blazed a trail through Johnson County against enormous odds. The other Cord was the man she had fallen in love with, but this Cord was just as much a part of him.

Chapter 27

Cord moved along the walk with an unhurried stride. It had taken him one sleepless night to repent of everything he had said to Eliza on that cold Christmas morning, but it had taken more than a week before he had ventured into town to see if her feelings had undergone a similar reversal.

The saloon looked empty when he entered, but as his eyes became accustomed to the dimness he noticed Iris going through one of her routines at the far end of the room. She hummed softly to herself, her limbs tightly encased in a skin-tight suit that left no detail of her lush figure to the imagination. He walked forward slowly, making no attempt to remain unseen, but moving with noiseless steps. Iris finished up her number and looked up to find Cord placidly watching in silent appreciation.