Texas Lonesome

by Caroline Fyffe

  He sounded confident, but Sidney wasn’t letting down her guard until they hit that town. She didn’t need or want platitudes to make her feel better.

  “Our horses aren’t under us,” Noah said. “They’ll make their move when we’re in the corral.”

  A look passed between Dustin and Chaim.

  Noah was right. In the enclosure, whoever they were would have a clear shot from up in the rocks. No need to waste a bunch of hard-won bullets. Just wait until they had their quarry in one spot.

  Chaim gave a nod. “Could be.”

  Dustin looked her up and down and then glanced at Noah.

  Maybe he thought they’d slow them down. She and her brother could outride a McCutcheon on any given day, as long as the horseflesh was one they’d bred on their ranch. She had no idea what the horses she’d purchased in San Antonio could do.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll keep up,” she said, squinting her eyes right back at him.

  “Good.” He turned. “We’ll all go at once. Saddle as fast as you can. The horses are rested and have had plenty to drink. They’ll go a long way. Be as quiet as possible. The outlaws may be taking a little siesta themselves, and we can get a head start. We should mount up at the same time and ride out silently, unless, of course, shooting starts.”

  “I’m ready, brother,” Chaim said. “Nothing’s gonna happen. I intend to get married on the date that’s planned, so I’m not getting killed now. To disappoint Emmeline like that is not in my makeup.”

  Dustin chuckled. “Good to know.”

  Sidney didn’t miss how Dustin’s gaze lingered lovingly on his younger brother.

  Wedding? She hadn’t heard a thing about Chaim and a fiancée. She hoped he hadn’t gone and jinxed them all by saying that. Everyone was probably thinking the same thing. Why the heck did he have to voice the possibility and give it life?

  Dustin hitched his head, and the four stepped out from under the lean-to shed roof and made for the corral in an eerie silence.

  A grasshopper clacked from somewhere around Sidney’s boots, but she kept her gaze trained on the hill. It didn’t slip her notice that Dustin walked in her direct line of fire, as if shielding her from harm. The sun was warm in the cloudless sky. A trickle of sweat ran between her shoulder blades, making her shiver.

  “When you shiver, mi florecilla, someone is casting a shadow on your grave.”

  Startled, Sidney pushed away the memory of Carmen’s superstitious words. Their housekeeper, who had also functioned as a nanny for the early part of Sidney’s life, ran the ranch house with great efficiency, even to this day.

  At any other time, Sidney would have smiled, thinking of the sweet nickname Carmen had given her, meaning my little flower. The pleasantly plump woman was afraid of her own shadow, and she knew every superstition on the face of the earth. In this case, Sidney prayed the motherly woman was dead wrong.

  Another bad choice of words.

  With a pounding heart, Sidney plucked her bridle from her saddle horn and strode through the gate Dustin had opened. Without a word or a sound, they went to their horses, slid on the bridles, and hurried back for their rigs.

  Noah’s horse flipped his head and shied away every time her brother attempted to slip the leather crown piece over his ears.

  I knew that horse would give us a problem!

  The McCutcheons were almost finished. She dropped the cinch in her hands and let the equipment swing under her horse’s belly, then ran over to Noah’s horse.

  Noah’s face was beet red, and angry lines fanned out from his mouth. If they hadn’t been under a threat, by now he’d be cussing a blue streak. She grabbed the tall bay’s ear and pulled his blazed face down until they were eye to eye.

  “Mulish broomtail,” Noah mumbled, slipping on the bridle. “I hope he can run.”

  “Hurry up,” she whispered. “The McCutcheons are waiting.”

  Dustin had finished the job she’d started with her horse, his hands swiftly pulling her cinch strap and lacing the end onto the front rigging dee. Completed, he secured the back cinch.

  Noah went for his saddle and was back in a moment.

  Jackson trotted between the horses, his serious gaze following her every move, but thankfully he kept quiet.

  Chaim was already mounted. His horse danced with excitement from the strange way he had been hustled out of his rest. The younger McCutcheon watched the hill behind them, his gun drawn and ready to defend them if the need arose.

  “Mount up,” Dustin commanded quietly.

  “Noah’s not quite ready—”

  “I said mount up.”

  She did, all the while feeling as if she’d lose the bread and jerky she’d eaten only a little while ago.

  Dustin held Noah’s skittish horse until her brother was finished. Just as Dustin’s foot hit his stirrup to mount, a cry sounded from somewhere on the hill, followed by three rapid-fire shots.

  Chaim returned several shots of his own.

  Her horse reared when a bullet landed between his front hooves, causing her off-side foot to slip from the stirrup. Sidney grasped his thick mane, ready to ride as soon as his feet touched the earth.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dustin leaned forward, giving his horse full rein. Chaim and Noah had been first out of the gate and led the way. Sidney was directly in front of him, her left foot still searching for the stirrup as they galloped out into the open land.

  He glanced back. A handful of outlaws, no more than five, descended the hill on horseback behind the shack, giving chase. As he’d thought, they must have been resting as well, counting on hearing them saddle up. Out of range for gunplay at this point, the only sounds were his horses’ hooves in the dirt and the air rushing by his ears.

  When Sidney reached down to touch her sidearm and then glanced back at him, he hoped she’d concentrate on riding and leave the shooting to the men.

  Pushing his horse close to hers, he shouted, “Hold your fire unless they start shooting. I’d rather outrun ’em if we can.” And I don’t want to get killed by you.

  She nodded, lying over her horse’s neck, urging him faster with her arms. He let her pull away, putting himself between her and the outlaw’s bullets.

  Chaim and Noah, a good five horse lengths ahead, rode hard. Chaim glanced back at him and caught Dustin’s eye, but he waved Chaim on.

  He checked behind to see the outlaws had cut the distance between them. It wouldn’t be long before they started shooting. He’d guess they had about fifty feet before they’d be in range. As much as he didn’t like to think it, they might be in trouble.

  Sidney’s golden braid bounced as she rode like she’d been born on a horse’s back. A surge of protectiveness surged through him as he kept his gaze anchored to her back, the whipping of her ponytail, and the dirt flying from her horse’s hooves.

  Good girl. You ride like a man. Can’t say I’m surprised.

  Pulling his revolver, he was about to yell forward for her to catch the others when her horse stumbled. To his horror, he watched her chestnut crumple to his knees and slide forward, his nose buried in the dirt. Dust billowed everywhere. Chaim and Noah galloped on, unaware that anything had happened.

  No!

  His heart thwacking painfully in his chest, Dustin instantly pulled up and holstered his gun. Unable to stop in time, he shot past her, but by the time he’d turned back, she’d somehow pulled herself out of the tangle of horseflesh and chased after her gelding. The horse had taken off at a gallop in the opposite direction and was already much too far away.

  “Forget him!” Dustin yelled.

  “My saddlebag!”

  “No time!”

  Dustin circled as dirt kicked up at her feet from an outlaw’s badly placed shot. Clasping her forearm, he hefted her up and swung her behind. Good thing she was strong. She teetered precariously to one side for several strides, and he thought he’d lose her. Staying astride by some miracle, she locked her arms around his middle like a wet c
inch dried in the sun, and shouted in his ear to get moving faster. They were already at a controlled gallop.

  With her settled, he spurred his horse all out. Bullets whizzed past and peppered the ground.

  The double weight meant his horse’s strength could be gone in a short time. They’d be caught. The capture wouldn’t be pretty for him, but much worse for her.

  Galloping flat out, he drew his Colt and tried to swivel, but with her snug up against him, the action was difficult. He squeezed off two shots.

  Sidney nudged his back. “I’ll shoot! You keep riding!”

  That was wise because the land they covered was dotted with scrub oaks, bushes, and rocks. Going down now would mean sure death.

  He felt his mount dig deep for stamina. He’d lost sight of Chaim, but he was sure his brother would head straight back now that gunshots had been fired. Dustin hoped not. It would be hard enough on the family if he were killed; he didn’t want Chaim to be killed too.

  Or Noah and Sidney, he thought, feeling her heat through the back of his shirt.

  The problems the families had shared in the past evaporated, and all he could think about was her. How she could make him smile or want to cuss. Her flashing eyes and what they did to his insides.

  He remembered his first reaction to her in the mercantile. He was attracted to her, he grudgingly admitted to himself. Fine time to realize that now. He hoped this enlightenment was not just the last wish of a dead man.

  She turned and shot a couple of rounds, and her shout of success said she’d hit her target.

  Seconds later a bullet ripped by, tearing the sleeve of his shirt. He jerked back at the pain.

  “You hit?” she hollered in his ear.

  “Just grazed. Keep shooting!”

  He hated that she rode behind, in essence acting as his shield.

  “I’m out of bullets! I’m exchanging guns.”

  A dense stand of manzanita lined the left side of the trail only fifty feet ahead.

  “Wait,” he shouted. “Reload yours and take mine. When I say, give ’em both guns. We need to create a diversion so I can pull off the trail without being seen. Rebel’s about spent. Won’t be long before they catch us.”

  He felt her fumble around. She leaned over and reached under her leg to the saddlebag that held the ammunition as they galloped. She flinched when several more shots hissed past, making him think none of the outlaws were very good shots. Once she had her gun loaded, she drew his from the holster, gripping a weapon in each hand. They were almost to the spot he planned to turn.

  “Ready?” he shouted.

  He felt her nod.

  “You’re shooting to kill, aren’t you, Calhoun?”

  “Whatta ya think, McCutcheon!”

  “Okay, we’re almost there,” he hollered over his shoulder. “When I say, open up and give ’em all you’ve got. Shoot fast, so they have to pull up and turn away. Ready. Now!”

  Dustin glanced over his shoulder when she twisted. She’d crossed her arms in front of her torso, making turning easier. With a revolver in each hand, she alternated shots from side to side, which were coming fast. The only thing keeping her on the horse were her strong legs and incredible balance.

  She whooped once, and he thought that must mean she’d hit her mark again. If that were true, that left three—a much more manageable number. When he started the turn with her guns still blazing, he reached back and grasped her thigh to help her stay seated.

  In the cover of the brush, he immediately slowed and picked his way through the tight ironwood bushes, keeping his head down. Sharp barbs cut through the sleeves of his shirt, and he thought he heard her swallow a cry of pain. They reached an outcropping of rocks and he circled behind, giving them partial cover. He prayed the diversion was enough, and the riders would pass them being none the wiser.

  Dustin let out a breath as the outlaws galloped by. “We don’t have much time before they discover they’ve been tricked. Hand me your gun and slide off.” He offered his arm, which Sidney grasped, slipping easily to the ground. She must have cut her face when her horse went down, because she had blood everywhere he hadn’t seen before.

  He quickly reloaded her gun and handed over the weapon. After doing the same with his own, he slipped the weapon into his holster.

  Turning his horse, he headed out the way they came.

  “What’re you doing?” she demanded. “Wait up!”

  “You hold tight.” Dustin unwound his canteen and tossed it back. The container hit the ground at her feet with a thud. “If I don’t return, stay out of sight overnight, and then before dawn make for the marker I showed you. Draper Bottom’s not so far that you can’t make it on foot.”

  “McCutcheon! Stop this instant!”

  He made for the trail, wanting to be far from Sidney Calhoun when the outlaws returned.

  “Why, you low-down, double-crossing, lily-livered . . .”

  As dire as their situation was, Dustin couldn’t help laughing at the fury in her voice. He was glad he was mounted and she couldn’t catch him. He didn’t know what would be worse—facing three bloodthirsty bandits, or a furious Sidney Calhoun after she’d been duped.

  At the boundary of the brush line, he pulled up and listened. Hearing only silence, he took off at a gallop toward Chaim and Noah, and the unsuspecting outlaws.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sidney was still giving him the silent treatment when the group ambled into Rio Wells an hour after midnight. She’d been angry as a cornered polecat when they’d returned to pick her up after subduing the outlaws.

  The remaining three had galloped straight into Chaim and Noah on their way back, with Dustin quickly closing in from behind. One outlaw was killed, and the other two quickly threw down their guns.

  Dustin noted the sleepy streets. Everything was quiet. Lanterns—in front of the hotel, the stage office, and the sheriff’s office—gave a modicum of light, aided by the moon.

  He glanced over at Chaim with Sidney behind his saddle. The three men had switched off carrying her. Her mutt padded quietly behind Chaim’s horse, his head still surprisingly high after such a long journey.

  Now, though, exhausted from hours on the trail, Sidney looked like a little girl worn out from a full day at school—but he knew better than to trust that perception. One of her hands hung loosely at her side, and she grasped the back of Chaim’s saddle with the other.

  He remembered his wild thoughts when they’d been outrunning the outlaws. Dangerous ones about him and Sidney . . .

  Annoyed with himself, Dustin shook the crazy idea from his head. He’d better keep his distance unless he wanted to unleash a war within his own family. His pa would consider the turn in loyalty the ultimate betrayal if Dustin were to let himself befriend her, or even like her.

  Besides, she was cantankerous. Liked to argue with every word out of his mouth. He needed someone like Lily, soft and compliant.

  Reining up in front of the sheriff’s office, Dustin dismounted. “Give me a minute, and then we’ll be on our way out to the Rim Rock.”

  “The place is dark, Dustin,” Chaim said. “Deputy Miller’s not inside at this time of night.”

  Chaim looked almost as worn out as Sidney. “I intend to leave a note. The icehouse in Draper Bottom isn’t much of a jail. Miller needs to get over there first thing and relieve Mr. Newson. We stressed the importance of not opening the door until Miller showed up, but Newson’s forgetfulness has me worried.”

  “You tacked up several notes.”

  “I know, I know.” Dustin shrugged and then massaged his tired neck. “Besides that, I was told to inform the law here of our arrangement with Noah Calhoun the moment we hit town. So that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

  Noah straightened in the saddle. “We almost done yammering?”

  Dustin’s gaze cut to the younger Calhoun. The impetuous Noah would be a burr under his saddle for as long as he was around.

  “We’ll quit yammering w
hen I say we’ll quit yammering. Got that? I’m already on Judge Halford’s cranky side. I’m not making the situation worse by not following orders.” He pointed. “I’m not you, Calhoun.”

  Cradle Hupton, the livery owner, came strolling down the boardwalk, black suspenders stretched over his beefy shoulders and an ample coffee mug in his hand.

  “Boys, you’re home!” he said, his pleasure at seeing them unmistakable by the large grin stretched across his face. “Did Miss Emmeline get off safely to Boston? I’ll sure miss seeing her purty face around town, and her teasing nature. She liked to make me blush and did so often. I’ll be happy when she’s back—as Mrs. Chaim McCutcheon,” he added quickly. His eyes went wide when he spotted the woman behind Chaim’s saddle.

  “She did,” Chaim replied, offering nothing more.

  He wasn’t saying much, but Dustin knew bringing Chaim out of this funk over Emmeline would take a lot longer than a ride from San Antonio.

  “Meet Miss Sidney Calhoun and her brother Noah.” Dustin gestured to Sidney and then to Noah. He dismounted and dropped one rein of his tired mount.

  Without any help, Sidney slipped off the back of Chaim’s horse. A grimace crossed her face when her boots hit the dirt.

  “Did I hear you right?” Cradle asked, his normally smiling mouth pulling down at the corners. “Did you say Calhoun?”

  Sidney stretched both elbows behind her back and then raised one arm over her head, working out her sore muscles. She’d pitched her hat off her head when the sun had gone down, and now the headpiece dangled from a leather strap down her back over her long, messy ponytail.

  Not that he’d noticed.

  “You did,” she said. “And to be perfectly clear, we’re the same Calhouns from Santa Fe who’ve had a running feud with the McCutcheons for years. Does that make it seem odd that we’d show up in town after midnight, riding double?”

  By cracky, this girl had spunk. Even being chased by bullet-slinging outlaws couldn’t dampen her spirit. Dustin was thankful for the two horse lengths between them.

  He smiled when she gave him the stink eye. “Miss Calhoun’s a bit put out that I dropped her off when we had unfinished business with a few outlaws between San Antonio and Draper Bottom. She fancies herself one of the men. Noah, Sidney, this is Cradle Hupton, the livery owner and blacksmith. We passed his place on the way in, and you’ll see it again on our way out to the ranch.”