Nate's Destiny

by Shirleen Davies

  “You tell him to speak with Nate Hollis at the livery. He knows who I am.”

  The man shook his head. “Don’t say I didn’t give you fair warning.” He looked over his shoulder at his men. “Put your guns down. We need to get back and let the boss know what happened.” He glared at the Indian, then settled his gaze on Nate one more time. “If you was a smart man, you’d be leaving the Indian with Polk, then riding out of town. Mr. Nettles isn’t going to take kindly to you siding with Indians.”

  The corners of Nate’s mouth tilted up into a wry grin. “Probably not, but that’s the way it’s going to be.”

  They waited until the group of men disappeared into the forest before sliding their guns back into their holsters, Geneen and Heather putting the rifles into the scabbards. When Nate turned around, the boy had disappeared.

  Chapter Seven

  Archie scratched his chin, his gaze focused into the distance. “From the way you describe him, I think the boy might be from the Maidu tribe. I’ve never had any problem with them and never heard of them killing anyone. Most times, it’s the whites going after them.”

  Nate, Caleb, Geneen, and Heather worked around a large table out back of the main house, preparing the venison to be smoked, dried, or canned, while sharing the story of the Indian boy.

  “Do you think he could’ve killed one of the miners?” Geneen asked.

  Archie looked up from where he worked next to Caleb. “Doubtful. It’s more likely one of the other miners killed the man.” He set down his knife, wiping his brow with a handkerchief. “The Maidu do their best to stay out of the way of the whites. They’re a small tribe, less than a thousand. Their villages are spread throughout the valleys and mountains around here. I’m guessing less than fifty or sixty people live in each. They gather what they can and hunt. Can’t say as I’ve ever seen any of them on a horse, but they might have them. You say the boy was about twelve?”

  Geneen nodded. “He appeared to be, but he could’ve been ten or fourteen. The only weapon I could see was the small knife he held in his hand.”

  “It seemed the right size to kill a small animal or bone out a fish.” Nate’s mouth twisted. “I didn’t ask how their man died.”

  Geneen’s eyes widened. “I didn’t see any blood on his knife. Wouldn’t there have been blood if he’d killed a man?”

  “He could’ve wiped it clean.” Caleb set the meat he’d prepared in a bucket, then moved to the next animal. “I wish he hadn’t run off before we had a chance to talk to him.”

  Archie chuckled, shaking his head. “I doubt he speaks English. Like I said, they stay as far away from the whites as they can. A few of them speak some broken English, and no white man I know speaks any Maidu.” Wiping his brow again, Archie looked at Nate. “Leland Nettles is a bad-tempered man. Thinks because he owns a prosperous mine he can get away with whatever he wants.”

  Nate rinsed his right hand in a bucket of water, drying it on a towel. “What are you saying?”

  “Those men were right. Sheriff Polk will do whatever Leland tells him. It’s a good thing the boy took off. You don’t want to get in the middle of anything going on at the Acorn.”

  Geneen waited until Nate moved away from the table before washing her hands. She’d been near him all day, fighting her strong desire and schooling herself not to be swept up in her feelings for him. Working around him on the ranch could work, as long as he stayed in town most days. It would be the times they were alone she had to be wary about. For the first time since coming to Settlers Valley, she wondered if the time had come to return to Circle M.

  “I’d better head inside and start supper.”

  Heather stopped working, looking over at her. “Will you be needing help?”

  “No. You go ahead and finish up out here. Supper will be a simple meal tonight.” Heading up the steps, she didn’t look behind her to see Nate’s gaze following her.

  Geneen sat at the table, staring at the empty place where she’d expected Nate to be sitting. He’d told Caleb and Heather he’d be eating with Archie tonight in the foreman’s house. She couldn’t help thinking it was his way of putting distance between them.

  Their earlier conversation hadn’t been pleasant. He’d done all he could to persuade her to let him explain his actions. The piercing pain of him leaving prevented her from allowing him the chance to hurt her again. The fact she felt such acute disappointment at him choosing to eat with Archie over her confirmed she’d made the right decision in pushing him away.

  “Archie wanted to speak with Nate more about the locals, particularly Sheriff Polk and Leland Nettles.”

  Geneen looked up to see Caleb watching her. “I’m sorry. Were you speaking to me?”

  “I was.” Chuckling, he picked up his cup of coffee and took a sip. “You already know Archie’s been around here since before most everyone else. His body might be betraying him, but his mind is still sharp. He’s worried about Nate coming up against Polk and Nettles. Working in town at the livery makes him an easy target for them. Us protecting the Indian boy didn’t help.”

  “You did what was right, Caleb.”

  “Nate and I believe that, Geneen, but Nettles won’t see it the same way. Wouldn’t surprise me if he rides into town tomorrow to confront Nate, and he’ll have Polk beside him when he does it.”

  “I’m wishing we had a lad like Brodie in Settlers Valley.”

  “Or Nate.”

  The women cast surprised looks at Caleb. Geneen responded first.

  “Has Nate mentioned taking over Polk’s job?”

  “Not a word. I’m just saying he’d be a darn good sheriff and wouldn’t let Nettles buy him off the way Polk does.”

  “Aye. Nate wouldn’t be allowing Nettles to get away with all he does. Polk is old and set in his ways.” Heather’s lips twisted into a sneer. “And lazy. Maybe he’ll be deciding to retire and Nate can be taking his place.”

  “If he doesn’t leave.”

  Caleb’s startled expression locked on her. “Did he say something about leaving, Geneen?”

  “No, but it seems it’s his way of dealing with life. When bad things happen, he takes off rather than face them directly.”

  “I’m sure the lad had his reasons, lass.” Heather’s words were gentle. “Did he speak of them to you today?”

  Geneen felt a pang of guilt, knowing she had shut him out when he’d tried to get her to listen. “No. What’s done is done, Heather. Words matter little when it’s actions that tell the story.” Pushing her chair away from the table, she stood, reaching for their empty plates.

  “I’ll be cleaning up, lass.”

  Letting out a weary sigh, Geneen nodded. “Thanks, Heather. I’ll be heading to bed then.”

  Taking the stairs, she couldn’t help her thoughts from wandering to Nate, the feel of him behind her as they rode to the lake. So much about him felt right. Too bad he was so wrong for her.

  Nate woke early, saddling Nomad for the ride to town. He wanted to arrive at the livery before Marcus and finish the second dredge Leland ordered. If there were to be ramifications for his actions regarding the Indian boy, Nate didn’t want any backlash against his boss. He also intended to get away from the ranch before the others started their day. Especially Geneen.

  She’d been adamant about not wanting to hear his reasons for leaving. The more he thought on it, the more it made sense to ignore what happened and move on. He found himself fighting a constant battle between his heart and mind.

  One told him she was the one woman who could help him heal, help him deal with the torment of the past few years. The other reminded him of how much he still craved the relief opium brought him. But it came at a cost. One he didn’t want her to endure.

  He hadn’t taken the drug in weeks. Being unavailable in Settlers Valley made staying in the small town appealing. Returning to Conviction, as he’d once anticipated, meant facing the temptation on a daily basis. A challenge he didn’t feel ready to accept just yet.<
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  The sun broke over the eastern hills as he entered the outskirts of town. Few people were about, most still rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Sliding off Nomad, he walked him through the gate into the back of the livery, removed the saddle and tack, then began work on the dredge. If he had few interruptions, he’d have the device done by the time he left for the day.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here so early.”

  Nate didn’t glance up at Marcus’s comment, keeping his focus on the dredge. “I want to finish this up for Nettles.”

  Marcus leaned against a post, crossing his arms as he watched Nate work. “He won’t be sending a man to get it until Wednesday.”

  “Do you have work for me after this is finished?” Nate continued working on the dredge, inspired to finish it.

  Marcus chuckled. “There’s enough work for three men for weeks.” He didn’t budge from his spot against the post as he studied Nate. “All going well at the ranch?”

  Stilling, Nate straightened, setting down the tool he’d been using. “As well as you might expect.”

  “Miss MacGregor seems like a fine woman.”

  Nate’s jaw clenched. He didn’t want to speak about Geneen to anyone. “She is,” he ground out, picking up the tool and turning so his back faced Marcus.

  “Men are lining up now that they know she’s got no man courting her.”

  This time, the tool slid from his grip, dropping into the dirt. His hand clenching at his side, he looked at his boss. “What do you mean?”

  Shrugging, Marcus pushed away from the post. “Nothing much. Had a few of the single men come by last week, asking if I knew her and if she was single.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “They’d have to speak with Caleb Stewart…or you.”

  Mumbling a curse, Nate bent to pick up the tool. “She’s not mine, Marcus.”

  “If that’s true, it shouldn’t matter if other men show an interest. Truth is, if I was half as good as she deserved, I’d be talking to Caleb myself. Good thing I’m a man who knows my limits.” Stepping next to Nate, he clasped his shoulder. “You’d best make sure what you’re willing to give up. There may come a time you can’t get her back.”

  Nate felt Marcus’s warning spike straight down to the tips of his boots. He just needed time to figure out what to do with it.

  Acorn Gold Mine

  Black Jolly held the field glasses still, watching Leland Nettles take out his temper on a group of hired men. They stood ramrod straight, flinching every few seconds as the words tumbled out of their boss’s mouth. Black couldn’t hear what was said, but he’d swear it had to do with the miner he’d killed the day before.

  And the young Indian he’d seen fleeing through the woods an hour later when the boy stumbled on the miner’s body while tracking game.

  Black should’ve done a better job of hiding the body, taken more time and dug a deeper grave. After dragging the lifeless form yards behind the guard shack, he’d carved out a few inches of dirt, laid the body into the shallow hole, then covered it with leaves.

  The risk he took going down into the camp instead of staying on high ground and watching had been worth it. The cocky guard had been privy to much more than Black expected. He now knew the schedule Leland used to transfer the gold to town, how many men rode along, how they were armed, and the approximate value of each shipment. Black didn’t need a full wagonload. Just enough to stuff his saddlebags. And he’d need his own men.

  He didn’t know what happened to the Indian and didn’t care. A group of miners had spotted the boy bending over the conspicuous mound. Their shouts scared him away. Black waited behind a copse of trees as the boy ran off. The group stopped briefly to see what lay below the leaves, then took off yelling, their guns drawn.

  Black hadn’t even considered following. He didn’t give a whit about what happened to the Indian. If he escaped, fine. If not, it made no difference what they did to the boy.

  He had one goal in mind as he took a long, circuitous path around the miner. Black needed men and he needed them soon.

  Geneen worked through the day, telling herself she didn’t care about Nate not showing for supper the night before or breakfast this morning. Caleb had seen him ride off not long before sunrise. An hour after sunset, he still hadn’t returned.

  “What’s for supper? Smells good.” As usual, Caleb came through the back door, leaving his soiled boots by the door before entering the kitchen.

  “Venison. I took some before we started curing the meat. We should have several meals off it.” Geneen turned back to the frying pan on the stove. “Potatoes and biscuits are ready. By the time you get cleaned up, the venison cutlets will be on the table. I plan to roast one of the legs tomorrow.”

  “I haven’t had roasted venison in a long time.”

  Geneen startled at Nate’s voice coming from behind her. Shifting around, her stomach twisted at the sight he made leaning against the doorframe, his legs crossed.

  “I didn’t know if you’d be joining us.” She did her best to make the comment casual, as if she didn’t care either way. The slight tick in his cheek indicated she may not have succeeded.

  He pushed off the doorframe, taking a few steps toward her. “What are you serving with the venison tomorrow night?”

  Clearing her throat, she turned back to the pan on the stove. “I’ll roast potatoes. We’ve also some carrots and turnips.”

  “Those would be real good with the roast.”

  Caleb listened to the interchange, Nate’s voice low and calm, Geneen’s shaky and stilted. Shaking his head, he moved past them. “I’d best leave you two to your conversation while I clean up.” He walked out of the kitchen, a smirk firmly in place.

  Stepping behind her, Nate rested his right hand on Geneen’s waist, feeling her body stiffen. Glancing over her shoulder, he breathed in the aroma of frying meat mixed with her distinct scent. He’d never forget how she felt in his arms or his body’s reaction to the smell of rosewater and lavender wafting off her skin.

  Leaning down, he brushed a kiss along her neck, then stepped away, but not before feeling her tremble. “I’ll leave you to finish. Unless you need my help.”

  “No…no…I’m, uh…fine on my own.”

  Before leaving the room, Nate took one quick glance over his shoulder, a slight grin crossing his face at the sight of her hands shaking.

  Geneen waited until his footsteps receded before letting out the breath she’d been holding, her shoulders sagging. The wrought iron spatula shook in her hand as she turned the cutlets. She didn’t want to feel anything, especially desire, for the man who’d broken her heart.

  Grabbing a platter, she slipped the cutlets into the center, piling boiled potatoes around the sides. When she tried to turn around, her legs felt weighted to the floor, her mind unable to control her movements. Setting the platter down, she rested her hands on the counter, lowering her head. Taking deep breaths, she willed her heart to calm and the tightness in her chest to ease. She’d never been good at hiding her feelings and couldn’t go into the dining room feeling the tension flowing off her. Heather and Caleb would notice it. Worse, so would Nate.

  “How are you doing, lass?” Heather came to stand beside her. “Looks grand. May I carry it to the table?”

  “Yes, please.” She picked up the platter, shoving it at Heather.

  “Are you feeling all right?”

  “Fine. A little tired from the hunt yesterday and all the work today.”

  Heather’s gaze narrowed on Geneen, studying her features. “I’m not believing it, but am sure you’ll be telling me when you’re ready.”

  When she left the room, Geneen debated whether to join them or make an excuse and go to her room. Her appetite no longer tugged at her as it had before Nate appeared, the hunger disappearing as fast as Nate after he’d set her body on fire.

  Fighting the urge to disappear, she straightened her back, letting her arms hang loose at her sides, and l
eft the kitchen. Heather sat in her usual place. Nate stood behind Geneen’s chair. Without a word, he pulled it out, making certain she was settled before walking around the table to take his own seat.

  “What a grand idea to have the cutlets tonight.” Heather took the platter from Caleb, taking some venison and potatoes before passing it to Geneen. “Caleb says you’ll be making roast tomorrow.”

  Geneen knew someone spoke to her, but she couldn’t quite register who with her gaze locked on Nate. Her breath caught, stomach tilting as she forced herself to look away, but not before she saw the barely contained desire in his eyes.

  Chapter Eight

  Conviction

  Brodie stared down at the letter from Caleb. He’d read it twice. The first time in disbelief, the second to squelch the anger he felt at Nate being so close to them all these months.

  He read it through a third time, making certain not to miss a single detail. Finishing all four pages, he began to understand his friend’s motives for leaving—at least through Caleb’s eyes. Brodie wanted to understand by speaking to Nate himself. Setting down the letter, he glanced up as the door to the jail opened.

  “A crowd is gathering near Chinatown.” Brodie’s brother-in-law and deputy, Sam Covington, walked in, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. “Jack and Seth are keeping order.”

  Jack Perkins, Seth Montero, and Alex Campbell were the three other deputies. He’d hired the last two after Nate left. Brodie still needed one more, but lacked the motivation to look, hoping his friend would return to resume his duties.

  “What is it this time?”

  “A woman new to town went into one of the Chinese stores to get medicine for an ailment. Her husband claims she died from what they gave her. He’s quite vocal about his desire to close the store and similar ones.”

  Brodie steepled his fingers under his chin. “Was she examined by Doc Vickery or Doc Tilden?”