She’d lost patience with the lot of them.
Moira crossed her arms over her chest. “We’ll take care of ourselves.”
The sheriff jerked around and snapped his fingers. “It’s the voice. It’s right there on the edge of my memory.”
Moira stiffened and tugged at her hair. “I suppose your watch is missing, too? Well I didn’t take that either. And the gentlemen of Fool’s End should keep better track of their valuables instead of accusing anyone who happens to be walking down the street at sunset.”
“It’s not that.” The sheriff circled around her, one hand on his chin, his gaze appraising.
Once again Moira caught John’s intent gaze and her heart froze. She didn’t like the way the cowboy kept looking at her. Studying her as though he expected stolen coins and jewelry to shower from her person.
She met his accusing glare with one of her own. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
John reared back.
“You’d like for me to be some sort of pickpocket. Then you could run away and pat yourself on the back at the same time.”
The wrinkle between the cowboy’s eyes deepened. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Uh-oh.” Tony slapped her leather hat over her dark hair and adjusted the rawhide strap beneath her chin. “We’ve lost another one. Now they’ve both gone loco.”
The girls each nodded in unison.
The sheriff squinted.
Moira squirmed.
“What’s your name again?”
“Moira.” She drew herself upright. She was tired of cowering from all these oafish men. “My name is Miss Moira O’Mara. You may call me Miss O’Mara.”
“Aha!” The sheriff clapped his hands. “That’s the connection. I had a run-in with a fellow by that name not long ago. He spoke like he was all high-and-mighty, too. Like you did just now. Call me Mr. O’Mara.” The sheriff rubbed his jaw with a thumb and forefinger. “His first name was Ted. Or Thomas, something like that.”
“Tommy! Tommy O’Mara?” Her spirits soared. “That’s my brother.”
Chapter Five
Moira’s animosity toward the sheriff evaporated immediately. He was doing his job, that was all. No hard feelings need come between them.
“Tommy O’Mara,” the sheriff repeated, his voice thoughtful. “Sounds right. Red hair. Not real tall. You two look alike. Heard rumors he ran afoul of Mr. Grey.”
A trickle of horror filtered through her stomach. “Tommy? Is he all right? What happened? Is he still living in Fool’s End? Mr. Grey said he hadn’t ever met him. But I had a feeling he was lying. Did something happen to Tommy?”
“Easy there, little lady.” The sheriff flashed a charming grin.
Moira remained stoic.
When the sheriff realized his dime-store charisma was wasted on her, his smile faded. “Nah. Talk around town was that Mr. Grey’s daughter had taken a shine to your brother.”
A girl? Tommy was only...nineteen, well, almost twenty. But that was young. The sheriff must be mistaken.
He smoothed his sleeve. “Keeping a couple of lovebirds out of trouble isn’t part of my job.”
Moira clutched the sheriff’s forearm. “Do you know where he is?”
The sheriff glanced at his rumpled sleeve, only recently straightened. Moira released her hold and sprang backward. She mustn’t antagonize the man any further. Not if she hoped for more information about her brother. Other than the telegram, the sheriff was the first person she’d met who knew Tommy by name.
“Can’t say that I know what happened to him after he lit out.” The sheriff brushed out the wrinkle on his elbow. “If I find something, I’ll send word. Where can I reach you?”
“Let me follow you back into town.” Moira clasped her hands together. “I’m not who you’re looking for.”
“Can’t do that.” The sheriff’s expression turned sympathetic. “Where’s your next stop, Mr. Elder?”
The cowboy ceased his pacing. “I had planned on going across the border up through Cimarron Springs,” his voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’m not real sure anymore. At this rate, I may have to circle back to Texas.”
“You’re not quitting now, you’re going north. Everyone gets funneled through Cimarron Springs at some point. If I remember something, I’ll drop you a line. Ask for Jo Cain at the telegraph office. I’ve gone through her before. She’s reliable.” The sheriff mounted his horse, his silver spurs jingling. “Don’t forget our deal. I’m dead serious. It’s not safe for those girls in town.” He cast a meaningful glance toward his deputy. “I can’t protect them next time.”
Moira’s earlier generosity faded like morning dew. Events were moving too quickly. “You can’t just leave us here. What makes you think we’ll be traveling together? And what about my personal belongings? My bag. I was staying at the hotel.”
The sheriff shook his head. “That’s not part of the deal. If any of you return, I’ll have you arrested and brought before Mr. Grey. If he identifies you as the pickpocket, you’ll be in jail by this afternoon.”
“That’s not fair! I didn’t do anything.”
“Then you’re welcome to come with us. Take your chances. It’s quite a gamble, considering what each of you has to lose.”
His subtle rebuke wasn’t lost on her. She’d been momentarily distracted by the news of Tommy. She wasn’t alone; she had the girls to consider. They could all wind up behind bars.
Moira studied the two lawmen. Her choices were thinning out by the moment. She sure didn’t trust Wendell and she didn’t have much faith in the sheriff either. Neither man was interested in justice or sorting out right from wrong. One wanted revenge for his humiliation and the other wanted an easy fix and an early lunch.
She turned and caught the cowboy’s attention. Her courage faltered. They were a burden to him. An unfair burden considering all he’d done for them up to this point. If the sheriff left them, they were stuck in the middle of Indian Territory with no resources.
Worse than the middle of nowhere, they were stuck in No Man’s Land.
“None of this is my fault.” She hadn’t done anything after all. “You can’t steal my belongings.”
“I’m not a man you want to threaten.” The sheriff’s voice hardened. “And that sounds an awful lot like a threat.”
Her heart died in her chest. She’d mistaken the sheriff’s easy charm for an easy nature. He was setting her straight.
The sheriff watched her capitulation and set his easy grin back in place. This time Moira wasn’t fooled.
He pulled a silver dollar from his pocket and balanced the coin on the tip of his thumb. “Never say I’m not a generous man.”
The sheriff flipped his coin into the air. It arced and caught the early morning light, glinting through its downward spiral.
An easy catch. Moira refused the insult. She wouldn’t grovel in the dirt for his money. That’s what he wanted, after all. He wanted to show her who had the power between them.
The coin landed with a thud. She’d considered begging for his help, the cowboy didn’t deserve any more trouble, but that changed her mind. She’d rather set out on her own than endure the sheriff’s disdain.
The sheriff winked. “I’ve got your Irish up now, don’t I?” He leaned forward. “Mr. Grey didn’t like your brother stirring up trouble. He’s not going to like you either.”
The whole undercurrent in the conversation instantly crystallized and Moira groaned. No wonder they’d snatched her! Mr. Grey didn’t want her because he thought she’d stolen from him. He had a bone to pick with her brother and she’d waltzed into his offices and flaunted her name and her family connection. Then, on her way back to the boardinghouse, she’d been abducted. She didn’t believe it was a coincidence. She’d left Mr. Grey all
the information they needed to find her. The deputy said as much when he outlined Mr. Grey’s instructions. Her capture hadn’t been an accident.
If Mr. Grey wanted revenge for the trouble Tommy had caused, she was an easy target. If that awful man had been lying, if he knew where her brother had gone... Moira fought the play of emotions simmering in her chest. Tommy would come for her if he thought she was in trouble. Wouldn’t he?
While the men talked, Moira tugged her lower lip between her teeth. No. She couldn’t do it. As much as she wanted to find Tommy, she couldn’t risk laying a trap for him. She’d betrayed him once already. Besides, there was no guarantee Mr. Grey had more information.
“I’ll stay here,” she grudgingly replied.
Atop his mount, the sheriff loomed over them, showing his strength. He leaned one elbow on his saddle horn, his voice no more than a whisper, “Too bad really. I think you and I could have gotten along real fine.”
Moving so quickly that Moira had no warning, John Elder shoved Moira behind him, shielding her from the sheriff’s view. “I don’t like your tone.”
The sheriff tipped his hat with a grin, appearing as though he’d just won some grand prize. “Good luck to you,” he said. “I have a feeling our paths will cross again.”
John gripped the reins of the sheriff’s horse. “This is not a deal. We don’t have a deal. We have a disaster. You can’t just leave me out here with a bunch of girls. I don’t have the resources. I’ve got a herd of cattle and no crew.”
“Not my problem either. Maybe next time you won’t fire your crew until you have another one in place.” The sheriff chuckled. “I bet you won’t make that mistake again.”
John Elder’s shoulders stiffened and fear shot through her heart. Though she couldn’t see his face, she felt the tension radiating from his body. His throat worked and she sensed the battle within him once more. Just like the previous night when he’d ushered them into the empty stall. He was fighting something, an enemy only he could see. After a moment he appeared to make a decision.
She didn’t know how she sensed that, but she did. Even in such a short time she’d become attuned to his changing moods. The cowboy sucked in a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the effort. His shoulders dropped a notch, his stance widened.
The sheriff stared at the girls, his expression thoughtful. “There’s a drummer from the mercantile in town. He’s usually heading south this time of year, but I can send him your way. Those girls will need to be outfitted proper.”
“What if he can’t find us?”
The sheriff scoffed. “If you were moving any slower, you’d be going backward. There can’t be many all-girl cattle drives this side of Fort Preble. I’ll point the drummer toward the fly swarm and let him take his chances. His name is Swede and I’ll give him an idea of what you’ll need. He’s good people.”
“I don’t like it. We’re defenseless out here. You must at least see that. We’re in Indian Territory.”
“I’m aware of your situation, Mr. Elder. Have a little faith in my judgment. The Indians are too beat down to cause you much trouble. Stay on the trail. They won’t come near the army forts.”
Moira held up her hand. “Send my bag with him.”
“I dunno,” the sheriff picked at a spot of lint on his lapel. “That’s not part of the deal.”
John snorted, then motioned the sheriff farther away from the group of girls. “I need a word. Alone.”
The sheriff furrowed his brow and dutifully reined his horse aside. The two bent their heads together in a hushed conversation.
Moira tensed. What on earth was he up to now?
Tony touched her shoulder. “What are they talking about? Can you hear anything?”
“Nope,” Moira answered. She sidled closer. She didn’t like this. She didn’t like this one bit.
What was John Elder saying that he didn’t want the girls hearing?
Hazel halted her progress by hugging her leg. “Are we going to jail? I stole some apples from the grocer. I was real hungry. I know I shouldn’t have done it.”
“Don’t worry.” The men immediately forgotten, Moira ran her hands over Hazel’s soft curls. “Everything is going to be all right. You’ll see.”
Darcy snorted.
Tony stuck out her chest. “You got something you want to say? Then say it.”
“Why don’t I tell them why you’re here?” Darcy challenged. “How about that?”
A flush of red crept up Tony’s neck.
Moira shushed them. “It’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault. We’ve been blamed for something we didn’t do. We’re being punished for crimes we didn’t commit. It’s unfair and it’s unjust and we’re stuck. He’s got all the power and we’ve got nothing. Fighting among ourselves only makes it worse.”
The cowboy pivoted from his conversation, keeping his head down. From the set of his jaw, Moira figured the discussion hadn’t gone too well.
Wendell crowded his horse closer. The deputy leered, a half grin on his face. Moira met his challenge. He fisted his hands around the reins, tugging on the bit and sending his horse sidestepping. “I’ll say it again, Taylor. You’re making a mistake, letting them go. I got nothing to do with this.” The deputy dug his heels into his horse’s sides and galloped off in a kick of dust.
John adjusted his hat low on his forehead.
The sheriff swiveled in the saddle and followed his deputy’s hasty retreat. “You assaulted my deputy. While I’d like to give you a medal for that, I can’t. You did ask me for a favor and I’m not completely heartless. I’ll see what I can do.”
John remained impassive.
“I saw the crew you fired.” The sheriff watched for a reaction from the cowboy. “My elderly mother has more gumption than that bunch. Besides, looks to me like you’ve got plenty of help.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Figure it out.” The sheriff tipped his hat.
At his exit, they all remained in confused silence, uncertain what to do next. John whirled and kicked the loose pile of kindling near the campfire, scattering the twigs.
Moira sucked in a breath and faced the girls. They cast worried glances between her and the cowboy. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth.
Tony lifted her head. “What are we going to do now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well...” Darcy began. “Maybe we should ask the cowboy.”
“He doesn’t appear to be in a talkative mood,” Moira stalled.
Tony punched one fisted hand into the opposite palm. “I’ll get him talking. I’ll talk some sense right into him.”
“No, no,” Moira quickly admonished. “I’ll...I’ll handle this. He’s a touch upset. I think a more delicate approach might be in order.”
As much as she dreaded the realization, John Elder held their fate in his hands. None of the girls had anything more than their shabby clothing and few coins in their pockets. She glanced at the silver dollar resting in the dirt and got a sour taste in her mouth.
“Suit yourself.” Tony shrugged. “But if you need a less delicate touch, you let me know.”
“I’ll do that.” Moira squared her shoulders and approached their dubious rescuer. He did need something from them, he just didn’t know it yet. He didn’t deserve to be saddled with a bunch of orphans, but when did anyone get what they deserved?
He didn’t look up. Not a good sign. “What now, Mr. Elder?”
A grunt answered her question. Moira cleared her throat. Despite all that was happening, she kept thinking about the cattle. The rest of them had choices. The animals were entirely at the mercy of others. “What are you going to do with the cattle?”
“Nothing I can do.” He stared into the distance, his expression resigned
. “Leave ’em here, I guess. Once word gets out there’s range cattle for the taking, they’ll be gone soon enough.”
“You’d just leave them?” The action struck her as callous. “For anyone?”
“What else am I going to do? I can’t protect you girls and drive the herd at the same time.”
Moira searched the desolate horizon. She wasn’t spontaneous. She was careful. Deliberate. She folded her clothing in neat squares, she layered her hairbrush and mirror in the folds to avoid breaking them. She arrived at the train station two hours prior to departure. Acting on impulse wasn’t her strong suit. Even her spur-of-the-moment trip out west had been meticulously planned—hastily planned, but carefully planned.
How did she make him see their value? She tipped her head to the sky. “That didn’t go so bad, did it? Considering we assaulted and confined a deputy sheriff. I mean, after all, none of us is in jail.”
Even without looking, she could tell her question had thrown the cowboy off guard. Good. That’s what she wanted. If he was off guard she had a better chance.
He grunted. “At least in jail a fellow gets three squares.”
“Don’t you have any faith in a higher plan? In God’s powers?”
“I’d have a lot more faith if He sent me a crew,” John mumbled.
Moira stepped closer, crowding his space, forcing him to tip his head back and look at her.
She had one chance to convince him of the impossible. “He did.”
Chapter Six
“Whatever idea you’ve got, it won’t work,” John spoke.
Moira retreated and he almost mourned her easy capitulation. He needed a fight he could win. Anything to make him feel as though he had a modicum of control over something.
John rubbed his face and stared at the ground. For the first time in his life, he was plum out of ideas. Always before he’d found a way, invented a solution, defied the problem. Not this time. This time he was stuck in the middle of nowhere with eight-hundred-head of cattle, four orphans and a woman whose doleful eyes had him wishing he could save the world.
The Cattleman Meets His Match Page 8