by Tess Oliver
The tears had returned. “I’ll leave this afternoon,” I said shakily.
“Where will you go?” he asked, and while I hadn’t expected him to beg me to stay, his quick affirmation of me leaving struck me hard and the tears flowed faster.
“I’ll manage.” I had no way to survive on my own, but at the moment, survival was the last thing I wanted. I’d known all along that I risked losing my heart to this man, and yet I had not stopped myself. And now nothing mattered. I was years from home. I had no family and no place to go.
My feet were unable to move forward, and my legs felt close to collapse. “You know, as unreal as this must all sound to you, my feelings for you were real. I’ve been dreaming about you for years. And now that I’ve found and lost you in a short span of time, I have nothing else left in my heart.”
His face popped up. “Since the moment I carried you home in my arms, tattered and bloodied, I have not stopped thinking about you for a second. Trust me, Sweetheart, I’m feeling this as acutely as you are.”
He stood and for a moment I thought he’d walk over and take me into his arms, but it was my ridiculous imagination, the same delusional imagination that had convinced me to believe that heroes existed, not just in my heart and mind but in real life.
He gazed out the open doorway of the barn. “I’ve spent my entire life on this ranch. That dust storm we had was one of the few unusual, extraordinary events to occur out here in years.” He swung around. “Traveling through time? Witchcraft? It’s all just too difficult for me to believe.”
“Maybe you just need time to absorb it all,” I said, sounding as uncertain as he looked.
“What I need is a bottle of whiskey.” He spun around and ran directly into Jackson.
Jackson’s face was pink and he was out of breath. “There you are, Cade. You are never going to believe this.”
Cade glanced back over his shoulder at me and then turned back to Jackson. “Try me.”
“Some of Williamson’s herd found their way back into our pasture.
Cade looked back at me again. “Any idea how that might be?”
I shrugged.
Jackson could not have looked more perplexed. “Why on earth would Poppy know how those cows got there?”
Cade strode past his bewildered friend. “Just a hunch.”
I would have given anything to spend the rest of the evening alone in my room under the covers of the bed. I needed time to clear my head and decide where to go next.
Libby caught me on the way inside, and she flashed me a pleading look. “I know I told you to rest, but I could really use a hand in the kitchen. Charlotte went back—” She truly looked at me now for the first time. “Is everything all right, Poppy? It looks like you’ve been crying.”
“I’m fine, Libby. Just a little tired. You were right. I should have gone in to take a nap.” How badly I wished I’d chosen that option instead of the ride. “I’d be happy to help you, but you’ll have to excuse me from supper tonight. I find that I’m really not myself this evening.”
“Don’t worry about helping me then. Go up and get in bed. I can finish on my own.”
“Are you certain? I could lend a hand if you need it.”
She put her arm around my shoulder and turned me toward the stairs. “Go right up to bed, and I’ll bring you some tea later.” She stopped and pressed her hand against my forehead. “I hope you’re not catching a cold.”
“No, I’ll be fine after I rest.”
“I hope so. I need to go into town tomorrow. I thought we’d step in to see Susan about a few more dresses,” she said enthusiastically.
Tears burned the back of my eyes again. When had I fallen so in love with this ranch, this life, this family, and Cade? The same dreary feeling of homesickness I’d felt after leaving Salem came over me as I thought about leaving Montana. Now I had no home anywhere. “I really don’t need another dress, Libby. However, if possible, can we see about sending that telegraph to Salem after all? I think I need to send some kind of a message to my grandmother. It is time she came to get me.”
Libby’s face dropped, and she looked truly disappointed. I could not take hurting anyone else on this horrid day. I leaned toward her and kissed her cheek before running up the stairs to my room. I shut the door behind me and fell face first onto the bed to have a good, long cry.
Chapter 23
Cade
Dawn seeped past the edges of the curtains, and I threw my arm across my eyes to thwart the stabbing pain of the light. No dinner, a bottle of whiskey, and a sleepless night were the perfect ingredients for a hellish morning. The firewater had done nothing to help me understand and absorb what had happened. And while Poppy’s confession helped explain her sudden appearance, the cow hopping up, and the barbed wire flying over me, it was still too much to believe. Witches lived in books, fairytales, and nightmares and they certainly never looked like Poppy. And while I’d never touched or kissed a witch, I was fairly sure they didn’t have silken skin and luscious lips like her either.
I’d attempted to dull my senses with whiskey all night only to realize that I could not wash the girl from my mind. Even after all she’d told me, it took me only several hours steeped in liquor and my own misery to realize that the worst part of it all was the possibility that I would lose her for good.
An abrupt knock on my door sounded like a cannon going off in my head. “Those cattle aren’t going to take themselves home,” Samuel said through the closed door.
With all the extraordinary revelations of the afternoon, I’d completely forgotten about the mysterious cattle appearance. While the other incidences had occurred when Poppy was trying to help me, a fact that was not lost on me and gave me absurd pleasure even though it had all been done with some unexplained sorcery, there was no reason for her to move Williamson’s cows to my pasture. This time, I would check his fence myself. But first I needed to drag my ass out of bed and find Poppy. I had no idea what to say to her, or how she would react, or if she’d even talk to me, but I had to see her.
The last person I needed to see when I’d finally hauled myself downstairs was Charlotte, but she seemed to be the only person left in the house. The judgmental glare she shot me was nearly enough to send me back upstairs. I ignored her as I poured a cup of coffee. Libby had left some biscuits and eggs on the stove, but as appetizing as Libby’s food was, this morning it held little appeal.
Charlotte was the only person around, so I had no choice. “Where’s Libby?” Of course the entire goal of my question was to find out where Poppy was.
“She went to town.” Apparently, the normally talkative Charlotte had little to say today.
“Alone?”
“No.”
I downed the coffee and poured a second cup.
“Bad night?” Charlotte asked.
I swallowed back the second cup. “You could say that.” I dropped the cup in Libby’s wash basin and headed outside.
I pushed the brim of my hat as low as possible to keep direct sunlight from hitting my eyes, but there was little I could do to dull the pain in my head . . . and my heart. All of the earth shattering revelations of the day before paled next to the notion that I would lose Poppy for good.
***
Once again, I found myself sitting on my horse weeding my neighbor’s cattle out from our herd. Once again, his animals were agitated and wandered around aimlessly as if they’d been dropped there by a tornado. Once again, there seemed to be no explanation for how they’d gotten there.
Jackson ran after one of the animals. It bucked and kicked like a wild bull. “I don’t know what Williamson is feeding his herd, but these beasts are all crazy.” Winslow stopped and pivoted on his back hooves to the right and the cow had no other choice except to head into the corner where the rest of Williamson’s misfits stood. “Are you going to check his fence today when we drive these underweight cows back home? I mean this is getting old.”
I peeled two more off the herd a
nd sent them scurrying toward Jackson. “Even if he does have a break in his fences, our fences are secure. So unless these silly cows know how to open gate latches there is no explanation for how they got inside our pastures.” I rode toward him. “That’s the last one.”
Jackson’s cheeks were puffed out from hiding a grin. “Maybe your guardian angel thought you need a bigger herd, and she brought them over here.”
My face must have shown a much starker reaction than he’d expected. His cheeks flattened. “I was only kidding, Cade. Besides, I know she’s not an angel. She just looks like one.”
“Yep. Let’s get these cows home. I just hope we don’t run into Mitchell again. If we do, this time he might just want to keep his palm on his pistol.”
We were not a hundred yards past the ranch’s eastern border when we spotted four riders heading toward us through the cloud of dust. I recognized Williamson and his son immediately. Deputy Carson rode with them looking smug and all together too happy. The fourth man was dressed head to toe in black and had a snarl that would scare his own grandmother. After Perkin’s brief description, I could only assume the fourth rider was the new marshal.
“What have we got here?” Jackson muttered. “The posse?”
A confrontation with Williamson and the law was the last thing I needed this morning. “Looks like we’re going to be invited to a lynching,” I said. Jackson’s worried face snapped toward me and I regretted my jest. “Just let me do the talking, Jacks.”
Carson tipped his hat at us. “Boys.”
“Deputy.”
“Uh, actually it’s Sheriff Carson now, and this is Marshal West. He’s taking over John’s post. I guess you heard.”
“I heard,” I answered. “I was sorry to hear.” I gave a cursory glance toward the stranger and knew instantly I didn’t trust him. “So they promoted you to sheriff, eh Carson? Are they gonna give you a bigger star?”
“Quiet, Tanner. We’re here on official business.” Carson could not contain a grin.
The new law man pulled the cigarette from his mouth and squinted through the smoke at the cattle. “I understand you’ve been taking some of this man’s herd.”
Jackson gasped in disbelief. The look I shot him sealed up his mouth before he blurted something we’d both regret.
“Actually, Marshal,” I leaned my arm across my pommel, “after I was done clearing these trespassing animals off my land, I was going to ride into town to lodge a complaint. This man’s cows keep wandering in to my pastures. They’re eating my grass, and with this drought, I don’t have any to spare.”
Williamson’s eyes grew wide, and he straightened in his saddle. “Why, you lying, two-bit thief.”
I waved my arm over the cows. “Look at these pathetic creatures, Marshal. Even the buzzards would have a hard time finding anything to eat on them.”
Marshal West lifted his face. His lips were drawn tight, and the look on his face told me he would gladly string me up from the nearest trees, guilty or not. This was not a lawman who wasted time with thought and reason. This was a lawman who threw a rope around a man’s neck just for the pleasure of his hearing the bones snap in two. And from the looks of it, it was my neck he wanted in that noose.
“Shit,” Jackson muttered beneath his breath. He’d obviously come to the same conclusion.
The marshal looked at the cattle and then lifted his face. “So, you’re walking up the road with another man’s cows, and you’re claiming you didn’t steal them.” His voice was hard and cold, and it became clear that I was going to jail today one way or another.
Appealing to my neighbor was my only chance. “Williamson, come on. You knew my dad. You two built your ranches up at the same time. When have we ever taken your cattle? Why the hell would we start now?”
For a moment it seemed I’d gotten to Williamson. His mouth twisted to the side, and he seemed to be considering the logic of my statement. He looked at his son. “Tanner’s got a point, Mitch. We’ve been neighbors a long time. Why would he start stealing from us?”
“Doesn’t explain how the cows got over in his pasture,” Mitchell said.
“Well, I suppose we’re going to have to check out our fence line,” Williamson said. The old man always had more sense than the son. For a fleeting second I thought I’d talked my way out of the trouble, but then I glanced toward the town’s new marshal.
The man shook his head and took a long drag on his cigarette. He blew out several rings and then a silent laugh shook his shoulders. “Why, if that isn’t the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in all my years as a lawman.”
“What do you mean?” Williamson asked.
In my mind, I wondered just how quickly I’d hang for shooting a U.S. Marshal right off his horse’s back.
“These two men are walking down the road with your cattle.” An angry, mocking chuckle spurted from his mouth around the end of his cigarette. “They couldn’t look anymore guilty if they had the words cattle thief tattooed across their foreheads.”
Carson was obviously awestruck by his new boss. He still hadn’t lost the stupid grin.
Williamson, who was never a bright man, seemed to mull over the marshal’s suggestion. His son had obviously been swayed, and he decided to coax the old man along.
“Marshal West is right, Pop. And this isn’t the first time it’s happened.”
“Why the hell would we bring ‘em back to you?” Jackson asked.
“I don’t know what your thinking was, all I know is you’ve been stealing from us,” Mitchell nearly spit out the words. His father looked convinced.
I glanced over at Marshal West. The same chilling expression remained as if his face were frozen. It seemed to bother him plenty that his cold, calculating scowl had no effect on me. But he’d come out here to arrest cattle thieves, and he’d made it clear he was not going back to town empty-handed.
“I’ll go in,” I said. “But you’re not judge and jury out here Marshal. That shiny star doesn’t give you the right to convict me. I want the judge out here in the next week. I have a ranch to run.” I looked over at Jackson, who looked several shades paler and close to retching. “Jackson had nothing to do with this. He was only following my orders. My brother has nothing to do with the tending the herd either. So you leave him out of this.”
Jackson’s mouth dropped open as he looked at me. “I’m not letting them take you in alone, Cade.”
“He’s standing here with the stolen cattle too.” The sheriff tossed his cigarette to the ground. “Looks like a thief to me.”
I returned the unflinching stare. “Look Marshall, it’s obvious you didn’t ride out here to investigate things. For some reason, you rode out with the sole purpose of dragging my ass back to that pitiful jailhouse. I don’t know if Carson, here, put you up to it, or if you just decided you needed someone in that cell so that the townsfolk knew you meant business, but you’ve got me.” I looked over at Williamson, who seemed to be shrinking down in the saddle as if he was having regrets. Once again, the old man was my only chance. “Tell ‘em, Williamson, that Jackson has nothing to do with this.”
“Tanner’s right, Marshall. The kid just lives at the ranch and helps out. No need to arrest him too.” His voice wavered some, and for a moment, I held out hope that he would drop the charges.
Marshal West must have sensed it too. He shot orders at Carson before Williamson could change his mind. “Take his guns and tie his hands. The kid can take Tanner’s horse back to the ranch. I prefer thieves walk to the jailhouse. Gives them less opportunity to make a run for it.”
I slid down from my saddle and looked pointedly at the marshal’s horse. “That’s a nice looking horse. I guess it’s just for show if you’re worried about chasing down a fleeing thief.” I knew my mouth would do its usual job of causing me more trouble, but I’d had enough. I had no idea what I’d done to earn the man’s wrath, but the hatred was coming off of him in waves. And my last comment seemed to increase the flow.
&
nbsp; He bit down so hard on the end of his cigarette, the lit end bent down to his chin as he stared down at me. “Hope you can walk fast, thief. I’ve been known to drag a man to death all because he couldn’t keep up with my horse’s pace.”
“Come on, Williamson, you’re not going to let this happen, are you?” Jackson’s voice wavered slightly. Williamson paused for a moment. It seemed he was regretting the whole thing but the way he cowered beneath the marhsal’s glare assured me he wouldn’t drop the charges. Fear of the new lawman kept him silent.
I walked over to Jackson and placed my hand on his horse’s neck. “Let Samuel know what’s happened. He grew up with Mitchell. Maybe he can talk some sense into him.”
Carson walked up behind me. “Let’s go, Tanner.”
“I always knew you were an asshole, Carson, but this seals it. If something happens to Cade . . .”
I placed a hand on Jackson’s boot. “Jacks, I’ll be fine. Go home and let Samuel know.” I turned around and Carson flinched. I smiled and shook my head at his cowardice and then pressed my wrists together. He grabbed the gun out of my holster and handed it to Jackson before tossing a rope around my wrists.
I leaned closer to Carson. “Even if I’m behind bars, it’s still not gonna make Candy love you. You’re a weasel. Women don’t like weasels.”
“Go to hell, Tanner.” He yanked extra hard on the rope around my wrists.
“Looks like I’m heading there right now.” Carson held the other end of the rope, and I plodded behind as he walked back to his horse. Marshall West shoved a black gloved hand in front of Carson’s face. “I’ll take that end.” I was only a few feet from the man, and a sickening feeling wrenched my gut as he glowered down at me from his horse. The man had every intention of hanging me. One thing my father had taught me was to never show fear to the enemy, and even though I had every reason to believe that I was headed for a torturous prison stay and quick execution, I produced a grin for the man.