Another sniff. “The boys were given extra work as punishment, and I will personally speak to their parents.”
He winced. Miss Marley tolerated no misbehaving, and no interference from parents. She ran her school tighter than a military unit. Tyler remembered his own anxious, restless school days when he couldn’t wait for the summer months and appreciated the teacher he’d had who’d understood the need for children to be children.
Tyler tipped his hat back. He sure as hell couldn’t blame the boys for trading a day inside with their noses stuck in their books for a day of warmth and freedom. He’d done the same too many days to count.
“They are good boys,” he reminded her. He knew the homesteading parents of Albert, Johnny and Harold. The boys put in long hours both before school and after. Who could blame them for playing hooky?
“It is my job to see that they are educated,” Miss Marley said. She shifted her precariously balanced load then tipped her head.
“Good evening, Sheriff. I’ve lessons to ready.”
Tyler rolled his eyes as he watched her tromp off. It was so very tempting to call out to her and ask her to give his greetings to Mr. Potts, the postmaster. But he kept silent. The entire town knew spinster Marley and the postmaster were having an affair, but no one said anything to the clandestine couple.
Funny, he mused as he went back to his smoking, how folk went about their private business thinking no one knew their secrets. In reality, most knew. Rolling his shoulders against the trunk of the tree, Tyler peered through the darkening dusk.
Across the creek, the saws at MacKinnley’s Mill went blessedly silent, which meant Mac would soon be heading down to the Lucky Lady where he went each night for a meal, a couple pints and some flirting with Molly. How long before Molly Hansen became Molly MacKinnley?
Leaning into the tree, he gave the middle of his back a good, satisfying scratch. Things were always changing. Day into night, spring into summer. Life succumbing to death.
Gone. They were all gone. Illness had taken his parents and sister from him. The bullet from a gun had robbed him of his brother, leaving him alone in the world.
Tyler tried to shake the past from his mind. Why was he feeling so melancholy tonight? He grimaced. Because he was lonely. Potts had Marley. Molly had Mac. And he had no one but a widowed woman who cooked and cleaned for him in exchange for a place to sleep.
It wasn’t the same as family. Tyler wanted what he’d grown up with: a close-knit brood of siblings.
“Easy as pie,” he muttered sarcastically. “Just find yourself a woman!” Unfortunately, the only woman he wanted refused to have anything to do with him, and everyone in Pheasant Gully knew it. Even now, most knew their sheriff waited out in the meadow every evening to be sure Renny arrived safe, just as they likely knew Renny wasn’t cooperating.
Didn’t matter that he told folks he was just looking out for her the same as he did for them. Didn’t matter that everyone knew that the O’Briens had had a spot of trouble a short while back, that several of the O’Briens had nearly been killed.
Because trouble or no, he’d be standing here, waiting and worrying. Tyler didn’t care that the entire town knew what was in his heart. It didn’t bother him to know that the spats he and Renny got into provided a source of amusement to all. Deep down, he knew the townsfolk would love nothing better than to see their beloved sheriff settled with one of their own.
His jaw tightened. Unfortunately for him, he knew well enough what Miss O’Brien thought of him; she certainly told him every chance she got. “Glutton for punishment,” he muttered, glaring down at the pipe in his hands.
Tyler glanced back up at the darkening sky, noting that stars were starting to twinkle overhead. What was taking her so long? He stared off toward the town. Chances were that she’d slipped past him again.
Normally, she and her family ate their evening supper early so that Renny could get back to town well before dark. So where was she? Was she safely tucked away in the room she rented at Jensens’ boardinghouse? Maybe staring out of her bedroom window to where she knew he waited, smirking at the thought of her latest triumph over him.
Tyler tapped the bowl of the now-cold pipe against the tree. After emptying the ashes, he shoved the pipe into his shirt pocket and left the dark shadows of the oak. Hell with this. He’d go by the Jensens’, see if Renny was there.
If she was there, if she’d deliberately left him standing out here worrying and stewing again, there’d be hell to pay.
* * *
Renny left her family to return to town much later than normal. For an hour after supper she’d put off leaving until Mattie, finally realizing how late it was, started fretting that the sheriff would be worried.
Her horse stopped to lower his head to a patch of green grass. Renny let him have his snack. She wasn’t in any hurry. What did she care if Sheriff Tyler waited up all night for her?
Renny let out a frustrated breath. She didn’t care about him, but she did love her sister and had finally left to keep Mattie from worrying and Reed from insisting on riding back with her.
Dusk had settled over the land like a soft, furry blanket. All was silent around her except the jingle of harness. Tipping her head back, Renny let her mind wander and left the horse to walk his own pace. She wasn’t in any hurry, didn’t have anything waiting for her.
She made a face as she glanced up into the darkening sky. Not true. She had the Jensen sisters waiting for her. They always waited up for her, even when she told them they didn’t need to.
The two sisters owned the boardinghouse where she rented a room. It was a nice room, the house cozy and clean, even if it was a bit cluttered with furniture and trinkets. She couldn’t even find fault with the food. It just wasn’t home.
Glancing over her shoulder, Renny stared at the still-visible glow of candles and lantern light from the log cabin windows. The sight beckoned, tempting her to change direction and return home.
Caitie and Kealan would love to have their eldest sister spend the night in the loft. Even Daire teased that things were too quiet at night without Renny and her silly stories.
The urge to return to her home, to her brothers and sisters, was so strong, it was all she could do not to tug the reins and turn the horse around. It was better this way, she reminded herself. The choice had been hers to move out of the cabin and into the boardinghouse. She’d wanted to give the newly wed Mattie and Reed time alone as man and wife. It wasn’t like she didn’t see her family each and every day. They were together all day. It was only nighttime that they were apart.
So why was she so unhappy?
Renny gripped the pommel on her saddle so hard, her knuckles turned white. Whatever the cause, her mood was fast turning from self-pity to something foul. She hated feeling like her life was caught between grass and hay.
Days were a plentiful harvest while nights made her feel like she was a weak blade of spring grass struggling to thrive and grow in hard, frozen ground.
Renny rubbed her eyes tiredly. She was exhausted. Each day seemed longer and harder to get through. Inside, she felt raw and empty. Though she went through the motions of living, she felt as though she was barely existing. Life was something she endured, not enjoyed. She hadn’t for a year now.
Turning her head, Renny stared out into total darkness. She could no longer see the welcoming glow of light and warmth spilling from her family’s home. Resentment slid through the growing crack in her heart. No one had followed her out to see her off or run after her to beg her to stay, not like when she’d first left her home.
Caitie and Kealan had been so upset at first, and though Renny was glad that they’d adjusted and accepted Reed as a father figure, she couldn’t help feeling the tiniest bit hurt.
For the last year she’d been the authority figure: both mother and father. That s
he could be so easily replaced was a bitter pill to swallow.
“Snap out of it,” she muttered. Her family still loved her. But need her? That was different. Her siblings had once relied heavily on her. It had been her strength and determination that had held them together.
“And they are still together,” she whispered into the warm breeze. She felt more than heard the low hum of wind. Strands of hair floated around her face. She blinked rapidly.
After having to deal with the grief that consumed her siblings, she’d vowed to keep her family together. They’d desperately needed each other, and as much normalcy as she could provide. And that, she knew, was the crux of her unhappiness. She still needed her brothers and sisters, but they appeared to no longer need her. Not like before.
Renny hated herself for the resentment and feelings of betrayal. She hated what her life had become.
Empty.
Reaching two tall cottonwoods that seemed to be twisted together as though lovers, Renny veered to the right and fought the urge to sit on the riverbank and have a good cry.
Tears were useless, a waste of energy. Tears wouldn’t bring back her parents, or give Mattie back her sight. Tears changed nothing and Renny, so much like her own father, didn’t believe in wasting her time or energy.
Nothing could undo the past and make things go back to the way they had been. A sob fought its way up to the back of her throat, but Renny pushed it back down. It lodged in her throat, a hard ball that felt like it would burst through her skin.
Death gives birth to life. Birth is hope, and hope comes from despair.
Renny whipped her head around but saw no one. The voice seemed so real. Familiar even.
You are not alone. The comforting whisper came again, followed by a wave of warmth that seemed to encase her and chase away the chill in her soul. Once again, she felt the sensation of something brushing her cheek—something soft, gentle. Something loving.
A strange feeling swept over and through her. She felt calm. Loved. Comforted. Shaking her head vigorously, fearing that she was losing her mind, she spurred her horse into a trot.
“I am alone,” she shouted into the night sky. “Nothing good comes from death.” What was could never be as good as what should have been. Not for her.
Death brings change.
“No! No! No—”
A gust of wind came from nowhere. It whipped around her, shoved her shouted denial back down her throat.
Change brings growth. The voice slammed against her, through her, louder, demanding to be heard. It came from nowhere yet everywhere. Whirling around, clutching the reins tightly, Renny searched the area. Beneath her, the horse danced nervously with ears pricked forward, eyes wide and wild.
Dropping the reins, Renny covered her ears with her palms, pressing hard until all she heard was a muffled roar. She refused to hear words spoken in the wind. Refused to acknowledge their meaning and chose to turn her back on her once-held beliefs of spirits and the spirit world.
That part of her life had died with her Sioux stepmother. Once she’d believed. Once she’d embraced that world. But no longer. Now she relied only upon herself and what she could see. And control.
“I want no more change.” She spat the words into the night, her voice low, fierce and defiant.
It is time for Weshawee to grow!
The command struck, loud and harsh, with power enough to make her gasp. For just a moment, Renny felt as though she’d been struck dead-center by a jagged bolt of lightning. Heat filled her as the air around her seemed to crackle with energy.
Trembling, she hugged herself tightly as she stared up at the heavens. There were no clouds, no flashes of light. Fear turned the burning heat into ice and she shivered. For a moment she felt frozen, unable to move or think.
Believe.
The soft plea jerked Renny from her frozen state. Once, she’d believed in the unseen. She’d trusted in the gods and spirits of man and earth to care for her and her family but they’d failed to protect her parents or any of them from the horrors of the last year. Mattie was blind, the youngsters tormented by nightmares.
“Never! Never again will I believe.” Renny jerked hard on the reins, startling her already spooked horse. The horse reared, then lunged forward. Caught unawares, Renny bounced up, came down hard and slid off the back of the gelding, landing flat on her back on the grassy ground.
Chapter Three
Glaring up into the glittering night sky, Renny calmed herself, drawing air back into her lungs. Beneath her, she felt the tremble of the earth as her horse galloped away. “Wonderful! A perfect ending to the day.” Tired and disgusted with herself, Renny pushed herself up, got to her feet and started walking.
A short while later, she reached the meadow on the edge of town. Beneath the glow of the night sky, she saw the whitewashed church rising out of the darkness. Beyond that, the town lay bathed in soft, glowing light. She stopped, and scanned the shadows.
He was there, waiting for her. Waiting to hear what had taken her so long. But what could she say? Who had she been fighting with? “Must have fallen asleep.” It was the only acceptable explanation.
She shook her head and shoved her hands down hard onto her hips. Disgust weaseled through her. Not only had she fallen asleep and lost her seat upon her horse, but she’d forgotten to skirt around the meadow in order to avoid the one person guaranteed to worsen her mood.
Sighing, Renny considered her options. She was in no mood to see or speak to Sheriff Tyler if he was still lying in wait for her. She’d just sneak around to the other side of the church, follow the creek that ran around to the back of the boardinghouse and avoid Sheriff Tyler—pain in the ass, thorn in her side, slime stuck to her heel.
She heard the sound of a harness jiggling. Peering into the dark, she gave a soft whistle. Had her horse stopped to eat?
What luck. She took a step forward. “Come on, my sweet boy. You’ve had time enough to eat.” She was relieved that her horse had not arrived at the stable without her. Now no one would be out looking for her, and it was a sure bet if her horse had shown up riderless, Frank, the boy in charge of caring for the horses each evening, would hightail it to the sheriff. She hurried forward, then stopped dead in her tracks when an amused voice addressed her.
“Figured it’d be a cold day in hell before you called me your sweet boy, Miss O’Brien.”
The amused voice startled Renny. “Damn!” She kicked at some leaves in the dirt and glared at the heavens.
“Not a very ladylike greeting, Miss O’Brien.” Anger booted the humor from his voice.
Renny eyed the shadows of the church. She’d even taken one sidestep when Tyler emerged from the shadows. “Don’t even think of it.”
“Think of what?” Renny asked. When she came abreast of Tyler and his horse, she kept going, forcing him to wheel his mount around and follow. She grabbed the reins to her horse. Behind her, she heard Tyler dismount.
“Renny, you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she snapped.
“Stop a minute. What happened? Why did your horse return without you?” Sheriff Tyler caught up with her.
Renny quickened her steps. “Nothing for you to be concerned about.”
“Dammit, woman, stop for a minute!” Frustration fused with anger and worry. His voice was hard, edgy.
Renny ignored him, keeping her gaze trained on the soft glow of light coming from the town. The quiet, gentle bath of light eased some of the tightness coiling inside her. While not her home, it was her town. People she knew, cared about. Many whom she called friend. Not so the man dogging her heels.
“Not in the mood, Troll.” She grinned when she heard his sharp intake of breath.
“Dammit, Renny. I said stop.” Tyler reached out and snagged her arm, swinging her around.
“Missed your true calling in life, Sheriff. Should’ve been a nanny,” she sneered. She gave a couple of clucks and heard him draw in a deep, angry breath. He hated it when she clucked at him, reminding him that she thought him a bothersome mother hen. She stepped around him.
Tyler’s long-legged stride easily kept pace with her shorter, stomping steps across the meadow. Once more, he reached out and took hold of her. “Dammit, Renny, answer me. Are you hurt?”
Tyler’s large hands clamped over her shoulders. This time he was ready. He held her gently yet firmly, both hands cupping her shoulders to keep her from twisting away.
Renny stepped toward him. “Go away,” she said quietly, her eyes as wild as a summer storm.
Tyler, ready for her move, pulled her hard against him to keep her from delivering a well-placed kick. “Why the hell do you have to be so damn stubborn? A simple answer is all I need from you!”
Renny opened her mouth to deliver another wrathy comment but a wave of warmth that rushed through her body made her mind go blank. She blinked. The top of her head was level with his broad shoulders. Out of nowhere came the urge to rest her head on those shoulders, to have those thick, strong arms close gently around her, holding her, keeping her warm and safe.
A long, heartfelt sigh escaped. What would it be like to feel safe and cherished instead of overworked, worried and insecure? So much weight rested on her narrow shoulders when his were so much wider, stronger.
She swayed slightly, felt his hands tighten gently, the back of his arm brushing against her cheek as he held on to her. “Renny?”
The soft, tender way he spoke her name broke Renny free from the trance she’d fallen into. In the starlight, Tyler’s badge of office, pinned to his black leather vest, gleamed. That small silver star carried with it authority…and power.
White Vengeance Page 3