by Megan McCoy
“I-I-I’m dyin-n-n’ I tell ya. Th-is jack-k-k… jack-k…al left me ta d-d-d-d-d-ie.”
Sheriff Silverman finished hog-tying the man named Mint in the center of the wagon beside his dead partner. “Quit your yammering or I’ll leave you outside of the jail. And wait until morning to contact Doc Clarkston about that small ass cut on your leg.”
The solo cattle rustler continued to shoot hot daggers from his gaze at Lyle as he kept his grumbles low and squirmed around in place.
Lyle chuckled and shoved his gloved hands down into his coat pockets.
They were all now standing at the edge of the trees by the clearing next to the road.
“Now that Chance and his helpers are leadin’ his four steers back, and we got these two vermin loaded in the back of the wagon, we’re about done here.” Sheriff Silverman jumped down from the back of the wagon then stomped his way up through the snow to the wagon seat.
“Y’all need me to go back into town with you?” Lyle looked from the sheriff to his deputy.
Deputy Roberts was back in his saddle once again.
“Nope. ‘Preciate you comin’ upon these two. You saved the ranchers here a mess of trouble. If they’d have gotten away with these four, they would have come back for more eventually.”
Shrugging his shoulder, Lyle turned toward his horse. “Just a bit of first snow luck.”
“T’weren’t no luck, ifin we’d have just gagged that hussy before b-b-bedin’ her.”
Lyle’s feet locked in place as if he’d been nailed to the ground. Shit. He pivoted slowly toward the two lawmen, hopin’ they’d been too busy getting’ ready to head out and had missed the outlaw’s words.
“Hussy?” Deputy Roberts set his hard gaze on the yapping man in the back as he led his horse toward the side of the wagon, while Sheriff Silverman turned in the box seat to the back. “What are you goin’ on about?”
“Did the ice get your brain? You seein’ things in the snow?” The next set of questions came from the sheriff.
Wishing he’d feed this man a helping of the same dish of bullets he’d given the dead man laid out silent in the back, Lyle balled his hands into fists as he kept his features blank.
“Hah! No snow bunny dream, this sweet meat was all warm flesh and blood.” Mint tossed his chin up in his direction. “Ask that one where’d he take her. Probably to his bed.”
“Open your mouth about her again and you’ll be in bed with the worms right alongside your friend.” Lyle was at the side of the wagon reaching for the man’s throat before he knew he’d moved.
“Whoa there, Lyle.” The sheriff reached out a hand and placed it on the center of Lyle’s chest. “I’d like him to stay alive long enough to be hanged.”
Lyle lowered his hands to his side and took one step back, but kept his gaze locked on Mint, who was busy wiggling his body in an attempt to get further away from him.
“What’s he goin’ on about, Lyle? Did you see a woman with them? Another partner maybe?”
Finally, breaking his gaze from the outlaw, Lyle glanced at Roberts, then the sheriff. He inhaled the cool air to try and calm himself before releasing a cloud out his mouth. “Look, Sheriff, it wasn’t someone with them. It was someone from Grover Town. A woman they had no business assaulting.”
Sheriff frowned, his brow dipping low and making his eyes dark. “Who?”
Lyle shook his head. “The rattlesnake in the back is right, a screamin’ woman alerted me to something wrong going on. That’s all I can tell you.” He looked between the two lawmen again. “It’s not my story to tell. I won’t disgrace the woman by taintin’ her again. She’s been through enough tonight.”
He thought about Rachel and how she’d looked laid out on the grounded with fear in her eyes, fighting for her virtue, and possibly her life, once they had finished with her. He felt his blood boiling in his veins all over again.
The sheriff sighed. “Understandable. I’d like to get all of their crimes collected before the judge arrives in the new year and rules on them.”
“I understand. I’ll try to convince her to come forward. If she decides not to, I’m askin’ you to drop it, Sheriff.” Lyle held the man’s gaze.
Silent for a moment as he stared back at Lyle, the sheriff finally gave a sharp nod.
“I’ll let you know either way in a couple days.” Without waiting, Lyle turned and strutted to Domino. Once he was in his saddle, he looked at the men and didn’t miss the glance between Robert and Silverman, silent questions, before they tipped their hats and called out thanks.
The two men headed off towards town.
Lyle went off in another direction.
Rachel lifted the lamp to get a good look at the wooden latch on the door to ensure it was secure in place.
Knock. Knock.
A half squeal came out of her mouth before she slapped a hand over her lips to stop the sound. What if Mint had gotten loose before Lyle had made it back from town with Sheriff Silverman?
She stumbled back, trying to think of where she could hide in the house or what she could get to protect herself. In a flash she thought of the fire poker and turned to fetch it.
Knock. Knock. “Rachel, it’s me, Lyle. You all right?” The low baritone whisper came through the door.
Lyle. “Lyle?”
“Yes, sweetheart, it’s me. Open up, I want to make sure you’re all right.”
Her heart began to pound harder than it had been before she knew who was on the other side of the door. Her hands shook a little as she turned back, and lifted the wood bar out of the way, then slowly pulled the door open. Then there he was, huddled toward the door against the wind, snow, and cold. His hat was set low on his head and his collar high, but the lamp light in her hand illuminated the ruggedness of his features. She peered up into soulful, but intense blue eyes that always showed kindness towards her. She followed the line of his nose, thick but straight and came to a mouth the was a line, but perfectly formed on the top and bottom, like someone had sketched it perfectly on his face. However, his square chin and strong jawline that she’d only every seen smooth, now had a shadow of stubble covering it.
“I know it’s late for a call, but I needed to see you were all right.” His voice was still low, as if to ensure his words didn’t carry through the night to anyone at the main house. A shiver ran through him; he clenched his teeth and tried for control.
She was touched by his concern, her heart felt larger and tighter in her chest. Only her mother and sister were every disquieted for her.
“Please, come in. You’ll catch your death, as long as you’ve been out in the weather.” More concerned for his well-being than hers at the moment, she stepped back.
“Thanks, but I’ll only stay a few.” He banged one boot against the other until he’d gotten the extra snow off each, then he darted in the moment the opening was wide enough for his wide shoulders. “Ah, it’s nice in here.”
Rachel quickly pushed the door closed and set the latch. She noticed he wasn’t looking around at the décor - Mrs. Tucker had pride in the simple, but nice, furnishings - because Lyle was busy removing his gloves and rubbing his hands together in the warmth of the house.
“You have to be half frozen. Please come by the fire and get warm.” She pulled her shawl tighter, as she crossed the room to the table before the couch, where she set the lamp down. The table sat before the long wooden couch covered with cushions for comfortable sitting. Beside the fire was a ladderback chair, where Mrs. Tucker liked to do embroidery and the rocker where Mr. Tucker liked a pipe in the evening while he read the scriptures.
“Only if you’re sure. I don’t want to impose; it’s already been a long day for you.” Lyle held her gaze, but hesitated, as he still stood by the door.
She offered him a small smile at the bit of the kindness he was always showing her. “Please, I’d like the company for a while.”
He nodded, then removed his hat and set it on the peg in the wall by the door.
>
“Take off your coat too, just to make sure you really warm up by the fire.”
“Thanks.” He shucked his thick coat and placed it on the next peg. When he turned to walk to her, she noticed the snug way his blue flannel shirt fit across his wide shoulders, it was almost too tight. She wondered if someone made his shirts for him, or if he just grabbed a ready made one out of the bin at the mercantile shop. Even the largest ones there never were made for men so tall with broad shoulders. Her mother had taught both her and Vera how to sew by hand, they’d never been able to afford one of the fancy new machines like the two Mabel had in her shop for her and her daughters’ use.
The desire to make a nice comfortable shirt for Lyle made her belly flutter. However, that was something most women did for their beaus or husbands and Lyle as neither to her.
When Lyle got to the fire, he took a log from the wood bin beside it and set the piece onto the fire, then used the poker, the one she had been determined to use as a weapon, to stoke the fire to a right roaring blaze. Hooking the heavy iron bar back on the side of the hearth, he rose. “I placed Domino in that nice lean-to on the side of the house to give him a little shelter and rest before we set out for home, ifin that’s all right.”
“Yes. It’s fine. He’s such a fine horse, I hope he’ll be well after such a long night in the cold.”
“He’s practically bred in the cold. As long as he’s got a space to keep out of it, and those walls are nice and thick and sturdy, he’ll do fine.”
“Nice to know.” She stood beside him, feeling awkward for more reasons than just the fact she’d never really spent much time alone around men. None had ever spoken to her, except to be polite if they crossed her path, or to hand her something from a high shelf in the mercantile. She knew it wasn’t that she wasn’t commonly pretty, she kept her clothes cleaned and well-tailored, even though they were just basic fabric she’d used to make them, and she always made sure to brush her hair at night and use a night cream to keep her skin blemish free and smooth. However, most men just looked right beyond her to prettier girls like Sophia Reynolds who were willowy, but shaped well in all the right places a man liked to peer at when they thought no one was looking.
Rachel was none of that. She’d always been thin, no matter how much she ate, and her breast were round, but small. It would make sense for her to wear one of those bustles, like the Widow Lawrence, who had men practically tripping over their feet when she sashayed by, her head held high in confidence. Rachel surmised that she would be able to hold her head up if she could afford such accentuating finery, too. She tucked her hands under her arms and forced those thoughts away, her night had been rough enough without her adding to it with melancholy thoughts.
“Thank you, again, Mr. Joseph. I’d probably be dead or halfway frozen in the woods if you didn’t come along.”
“As I said before, no thanks needed, I’m glad I could help.” He rubbed his hands together before he shifted, facing her now, so the heat could reach him on both sides of his body, she was sure. The snow that had been on his pants and boots had melted and dampened his boots or was making a puddle on the floor.
“I wish there was some way I could repay you.” She didn’t really have much, there was her savings she kept beneath her shifts in her drawer. She’d kept a lot of her salary over the years, in hopes that one day, if she ever married and had a house of her own, she’d be able to afford to purchase some pretty things from one of the catalogs Mrs. Reynolds and Sophia always ordered from. She didn’t desire an elaborate house, decorated with expensive things just to have them, just nice pretty things like a handmade rug or a set of pretty plates for special occasions.
“There’s no need. Seeing you hale and hearty is good enough.” He stood there for a moment, staring at her. His blue gaze appeared so molten with fire, as he looked from her eyes to her mouth, then back again, that she felt as if the blaze was melting her too. “I should probably get going.” He turned and started for the door.
“Wait!” she called out, when he was only a couple steps away. “Can I make a request? Not that I should be asking anything more of you, but—”
“Ask it,” he ordered as he faced her.
She moved toward him, away from the hearth before she caught fire from the inside out. She licked her lips and swallowed, feeling her mouth going dry suddenly. “Well, I… You see, I’ve been trying to take a bath all night.” When he arched a single brow at her words, she quickly went on. “I mean to say, I’m nervous.” She shrugged. “Because of what happened. I’m in this house alone and I just don’t feel comfortable to undress and all. Usually the Tuckers and their kids are around, busy in the house while I’m in the kitchen with privacy, but I’d know they were still here. But after the two men…”
Her words faltered. She knew was babbling, but she didn’t know what he was thinking, and it made her nervous. He probably thought something was wrong with her, asking a man to stay in the house while she was naked in a bath. He just stood there, staring down at her, making her feel even more ill at ease. She placed a hand on the back of her neck trying to cool it off. “Look, Lyle, my mother works at a brothel, but I’m not a whore. I just don’t—”
“Stop, Rachel.” He took her by the shoulders, then squeezed them to halt her speech. “You don’t need to explain why you’re scared tonight. I was there, I know what you went through.” He still held her arms for a moment before he lowered his hands to his sides.
She missed his touch.
“For the record, I don’t think you’re a whore because of where your mother works.”
The heat from his touch seared her hotter through her clothing, than the fire had. Feeling as if her tongue was too big for her mouth, she just nodded.
“I’ll stay.” His voice was low with that deep rumble that always made her belly quiver and the hair lift on her arms. “Just until you finish with your bath.”
She sighed and offered him a smile. “Have you had supper yet?”
“Earlier in the night, it’s why I was in town, at the Drummonds’ getting a bite. I haven’t had a chance to get the supplies I need in my house, and I’d prefer to save the remainder of the lining in my gut, so I don’t eat at the bunkhouse anymore.”
“You bought a house?” That was news to her. Not that she usually inquired for information that had to do with Lyle Joseph, but if she heard things concerning him or his employer, she bent an ear to it.
“It came with the foreman position.”
“That’s right! I recall not too long ago I was in the Russells’ place and Mr. Rand’s cook had mentioned something about her boss having time to settle down with a nice girl, now that he’d given Lyle Joseph the position.”
The smile on his mouth was lopsided, but even at only half mast, the expression was still captivating. She stared at his lips. After the night she’d had, she shouldn’t be thinking about how it would feel to be kissed by him.
“I’m happy about it. Worked my as—” He cleared his throat. “Worked hard for it.”
The sound from him helped to pull her gaze away from his mouth. “I’m sure you did. Anyway, there’s beef stew that I made for my dinner earlier. It’s still warm on the back of the stove. I hadn’t put it away yet, if you still have some space in your stomach. You can eat while I bathe.”
“That would be nice.”
She wasn’t sure if he accepted the food because he was hungry or to be nice, but either way, it gave her butterflies to feed him. “Well, sit on down, I’ll get you a bowl.”
Grabbing the lamp, as he crossed to the straight back chair instead of the rocker, she hustled along to the kitchen. In the kitchen, she glanced over at her bath and was sure the water was lukewarm at best, but she didn’t want to take up much more of his time waiting for the water to heat. She placed the lamp on the four-person kitchen table right before she went to the shelf by the sink for a bowl. She pulled the cast iron pot from the back of the stove where it had sat away from one of the tw
o eyes, but still remained warm. After she removed the lid, she picked up the ladle and began scooping the stew with thick gravy, potatoes, carrots, onions, and celery. Most days, even though Mrs. Tucker cooked the meals at the Reynolds’, when she came home, and she and Rachel would prepare a separate meal for the Tucker family. Rachel kept up the same routine, even when Mrs. Tucker was on her time off, just smaller portions.
She cleared out the rest of the stew from the pot, happy to be serving Lyle. There wasn’t any other circumstance where she would be able to cook for him, so she would enjoy this time. On the counter next to the stove was one roll from the two she’d taken from the ones she made for the Reynolds; it was wrapped in a cloth. She had planned to eat it with peach preserves in the morning, but she would make do with an oat cake.
She took a moment to pour him a glass of water from the pitcher on the table, then she walked back into the front room with the items. “I hope you like it. It’s nothing special.”
Lyle rose when she entered the room. “I’m sure it’s good. If you weren’t a good cook, I’m sure Mrs. Tucker wouldn’t have left the Reynolds in your care.”
Heat rushed into her cheeks at his words. “Probably. If you want to eat by the fire, just take the bowl off the tray.”
“No, need. I can take it at the couch.” He stepped to her and unburdened her hands as he claimed the tray then set it on the table, and straightened to his full height.
She stood there, feeling a little bemused with such a domestic setting as food before the evening fire. The fact it was Lyle set her heart to racing and her palms start sweating.
“You best get to your bath,” he instructed.
“Oh… yes. Of course.” She stepped back away from him. She felt foolish being caught staring at him. Most likely Lyle, who was doing her a favor, wanted to be on the road as soon as possible and the longer she doddled, the longer until he got home.
Shuffling around the furniture, she picked up the lamp by its metal handle and carried it into the last open door to get her items. In her room, she went to the narrow wardrobe and pulled out a simple plain calico dress. It was clean and soft to touch because it was so worn. Normally, she would have put on a gown and robe after her bath, but with Lyle there, it would not be appropriate. She also grabbed a drying sheet and soap, then returned to the front room. “I won’t be long. I promise.”