White Vengeance

by Susan Edwards

  Her gaze lifted to Tyler’s. His eyes glittered in the dark. Stars twinkled above his head, in his eyes, on his chest.

  “Renny…” He whispered her name, his lips relaxing, a warm breath of air fanning her forehead. His hands slid around to her back.

  Renny heard the plea and responded. Her hands lifted, fingers gripping the edges of his leather vest as she swayed closer. “So tired,” she murmured. She closed her eyes.

  “I know, baby. I know.” Tyler gathered her close.

  The aroma of tobacco and warm leather engulfed Renny. Her head dropped to his chest, her hands sliding up.

  The sharp stab of a tin star at her chin made her jerk her head up. The loud oath as her head connected with Tyler’s chin snapped Renny back to reality.

  This man was her enemy. She stared at him dumbly, wondering what had come over her. Sheriff Tyler was no friend; he had no shoulder to offer comfort or anything else. He was a liar, a betrayer.

  “Get away from me,” she ordered, all softness and tiredness gone from her voice. His gaze shone silvery-light in the darkness.

  “Dammit, Renny. I worry about you. I just want to help.” His voice sounded as tired as she felt. He let her go, dropping his hands to his sides, but he didn’t step away or take his eyes from hers.

  Unnerved by the genuine worry in his voice, Renny stepped back, blaming her own momentary weakness on the tide of loneliness sweeping though her.

  Digging deep, she found the ragged edges of her anger and pulled them around her like a child snuggling in a favorite blanket. This man, she had to remember, had promised to be a friend.

  After the murder of her parents, he’d promised to help her and her siblings. But he’d lied. He’d misused the power of his badge to try to take the little ones from her.

  And even now, when she’d proven that she could take care of her own, even though her sister was married to Tyler’s deputy, he still stuck his nose into their business.

  Renny tipped her head back, “Just once I’d like to arrive back in town without having to see or speak to you, Sheriff.”

  Tyler folded his arms across his chest and rocked back on his heels. “Seems you did just that yestereve when you snuck in without letting me know you were back.” Anger whipped the tenderness from his voice. Fury, thick and mean, rained down on her head.

  Renny’s lips curled, anger and resentment her shield. She held up one hand and ticked off finger by finger. “You are not my father, nor are you my mother or brother or nanny.”

  She bent the last finger so her hand formed a tight fist. “Lastly, you are not my keeper.”

  Her nostrils flared as she struck both fists down onto her hips. “You are nothing to me, Sheriff. I come and go as I please.”

  Tyler let out a frustrated sound as he ran one hand through his thick hair.

  “You know I promised both Reed and Mattie that I’d watch out for you now that you’re living in town.” His voice turned almost menacing.

  Renny shrugged, not a bit afraid of him. For all his nagging, irritating and bossy ways, he was not a woman abuser. She could stand up to him and speak her mind.

  “Your problem, not mine. Now leave me alone.” Tyler’s reminder that she no longer lived with her family deepened Renny’s resentment, sharpened her pain and confusion.

  Tyler fell into step with her once more, a shadow that refused to be banished. “Can’t, Renny.” His voice went soft with concern. “Let me help.”

  Something inside her longed to throw off the cloak of mistrust and share her fears with him. She wanted someone to hold her the way Reed held Mattie. Part of her desperately needed to be sheltered and cared for.

  More though, she needed someone to confide in, someone to share her concerns, fears and worries. Someone with whom to share the remnants of her dreams.

  She slid a glare at Tyler, hating the way she eyed those shoulders and wide, welcoming chest. She’d fit nicely against him and knew that if she gave in, he’d protect her, warm her, comfort her. If she gave him the chance, he’d take the burden from her shoulders.

  And how she wanted what he so willingly offered.

  That realization shocked Renny to her core. Fighting the weakness creeping through her, Renny made herself remember the last time she’d listened to the man walking beside her.

  Sighing beside her, Tyler stopped near the edge of the meadow. “One day you’ll trust me.”

  Renny squared her shoulders. “Trust?” She spat on the ground then glared hard at the man beside her. “Did that once and look where it got me. No thanks, Sheriff.”

  Tyler threw his arms into the air and paced in front of her, oblivious to the volume of his voice and the fact that most homes and stores were now dark. “Renny, I was wrong! How many times do you want to hear me say it? I. Was. Wrong!”

  Renny and Tyler stared at one another, each angry, each frustrated.

  Tyler took off his hat and slapped his thigh. “I won’t just go away, Renny. I made a promise.”

  Renny laughed without humor. “And we all know how you keep your promises. Well, guess what. I’ll relieve you of that promise.” She held up her right hand, palm out, as Tyler started to protest.

  “Oh, please. I insist.

  “I, Ranait O’Brien, do hereby relieve Sheriff Trowbrydge Tyler Thompkins Tilly of his nanny duties. You have my permission to go and find someone else to bother.”

  Renny took a deep breath, smirking at the look of fury darkening Tyler’s face. The sheriff absolutely hated his full, legal name. She shot him a haughty glare. “For all that I care, you can go to hell. Just go. Away. Far, far away.”

  Renny hurried forward. Once before she’d foolishly shared her fears and worries with this man. She hadn’t known how she was going to support and care for her family. Worried about harm coming to any of them, she’d asked Tyler for help on behalf of her siblings.

  A hard ball of hate swelled inside her. Sheriff Tyler had listened to her, soothed her, then stabbed her in the back. She’d never forget the shock of having him turn those confessions and fears against her—against them all. She’d learned from Sheriff Tyler not to trust him, or anyone outside her family, ever again.

  Her foot slid into a mushy pile. “Cow dung,” she sneered, stopping to scrape the sole of her shoe along the grass. “Beneath me and beside me.”

  “Heard that, Renny. Someday that viper tongue of yours is going to get you into a load of trouble a lot more smelly than what you stepped in.”

  Renny slid Tyler a hard glare. “I’d take trouble over having to deal with you, Troll.”

  Tyler stepped close. His face dark and somber, eyes sad yet hot. “Someday you are going to push me too far, Ranait.”

  Renny jabbed her finger into Tyler’s chest. “Then get the hint, Troll. Don’t need you, don’t want you, just stay away from me. I know the way home.” An ache of sadness slashed deep inside her. Home was back the way she’d come. She continued down the middle of Main Street.

  Like a fly drawn to sweat, the constant pain in her backside ignored her bad temper. His smooth, silent stride contrasted sharply with her snapping steps, irritating her further.

  In front of the now-darkened mercantile, Tyler asked, “What will it take to prove to you that I care about you? All of you.”

  The scent of tobacco cloaking the man reminded her sharply of her father, of family and her own unhappiness. “There is nothing you can do,” she whispered as the faint glow of lanterns in the second-story windows above Tyler framed his tall, big-as-a-barn figure. The black-rimmed hat he wore cast his face in deep shadow.

  Here was a man who rarely needed the guns strapped to his hips or the authority of the star pinned to his vest. His daunting size and looks were enough to keep both visitors and citizens of Pheasant Gully walking the straight and narrow.


  But not her. Her breath came fast and furious. She saw through him, saw the controlling man no one else seemed to see. She was furious that he could so easily rile her and make her lose control. “Save your help and concern for the fools who want it.”

  Then she ran, from the man and the weakness within her that made her long to slide into his arms and accept the security he offered.

  * * *

  Frustrated beyond belief, Sheriff Tyler stalked up the boardwalk, shoved himself through the door to his office and threw himself down into his chair.

  “Damn woman,” he muttered, stacking his feet on top of the desk. “What will it take?” he asked as he snatched his hat off his head and tossed it onto his desk.

  His encounters with Ranait O’Brien were becoming increasingly frustrating. The more he tried to befriend her, help her and even apologize and admit that he’d been wrong, the more she ripped at him with her razor-sharp tongue.

  “Is that you, Sheriff?” The clear, sweet voice came from the back hall that led to his private quarters.

  “Yes, it’s me, Maze.”

  Tyler pulled his feet off his desk when the woman who cooked and cleaned for room and board entered. Maze was a small, gently rounded woman. Her silvery hair was tucked loosely into a bun on top of her head with wisps of hair forming a halo around her face. She was the grandmother he’d never had.

  She walked over to his desk and set down a tray. “You missed supper, Sheriff. I kept it warm for you.”

  He sighed. “Couldn’t be helped.”

  “No, I suppose not,” she said, her blue eyes twinkling at him.

  “You wouldn’t laugh at a man at his wit’s end, would you, Maze?”

  Maze pulled a large, cloth napkin from her pocket and handed it to Tyler. “That would be quite rude, Sheriff. Especially since you’ve been so very kind to me.”

  “Don’t see how I got by without you,” he said, watching as Maze scooped up his hat and hung it on the peg beside the door. The luckiest day of his life was when this woman showed up in town a few weeks ago, alone, having lost her family while heading west.

  He’d felt sorry for her and had offered her a room until she figured out where to go. It hadn’t taken him long to discover just what a jewel he had.

  “She get back safely?” Maze’s voice trembled ever so slightly with suppressed laughter.

  Tyler eyed the heaped plate. His belly rumbled in response to the hunk of beef, the mound of creamy potatoes and carrots, all smothered in a rich brown gravy. Thick slabs of buttered bread completed the meal.

  “She’s home,” he offered. He picked up the fork and stabbed a tender carrot. “Horse threw her, though. Came back on its own. Thought I was gonna have to go find her.”

  “Is she hurt?”

  Tyler shook his head and attacked the meat next. “Just her pride,” he said. “Woman’s too hardheaded,” he added, but that wasn’t true. Just a month ago she’d been attacked, and suffered a hard blow to her head that could have killed her. Scared him nearly out of his mind.

  “You going to eat that, or just stare at it?”

  Maze’s gentle voice washed over him, calming his pounding heart. “She’s gonna be the death of me,” he admitted as he popped the carrot into his mouth.

  “Mmm, absolutely wonderful,” he said. Hunger overrode frustration as he dug into the plate full of food.

  “Don’t know what I did to deserve you, Maze, but you are heaven-sent!”

  Maze laughed softly. “Never know what life holds for us, Sheriff. Enjoy your meal.” She left the room.

  Tyler frowned at the truth of her words. He’d never imagined that he’d fall for such a stubborn, willful, vexing female.

  Women were drawn to him; he’d never had trouble getting whatever woman he fancied. Until meeting Renny. There were plenty here in Pheasant Gully to choose from. But no, he had to go and pick the one woman in town who wanted nothing to do with him.

  Suddenly, he wasn’t so hungry. He shoved the plate away. Maybe he should just give up. Renny O’Brien would never forgive him. She’d never listen to him, and she’d never, ever fall in love with him.

  A wave of despair engulfed him. He didn’t want to spend his life alone. He had no family left. All he had was here, in Pheasant Gully.

  From the kitchen in the back of the office, Tyler heard the clear, soothing voice of Maze singing.

  Sighing, he pulled his plate back to him. He wasn’t alone, he told himself. He had Maze.

  What did he need with a stubborn woman who’d no doubt give him trouble every day of his life? Yet as he sat and finished eating, he knew that if given the chance, he could happily live with trouble if it was named Ranait O’Brien.

  Chapter Four

  Renny didn’t stop until she turned down an alley and stepped onto the worn path leading to the Jensens’ boardinghouse. Candlelight in the front parlor window welcomed weary visitors needing a room and meal. Reaching the bottom of the steps, Renny paused to catch her breath and calm her emotions.

  Slowly and quietly, she climbed the steps and turned the doorknob. The door squeaked loudly.

  “Renny?”

  Renny shut the door and looked longingly at the stairs. Though she was itching to go up and shut herself into her room, she didn’t. Not for anything would she hurt or unduly worry the two women who tried hard to mother and befriend her.

  “Yes, it’s me, Miss Martha.” Renny stepped into the parlor where the two sisters were sitting. Martha Jensen sat on one side of the moss-green settee. Curled on her ample lap sat a large orange-striped cat, eying the strand of yarn being knitted into a shawl.

  Sitting on the other side of the settee, Agatha Jensen, small and delicate, hunched over her lap quilt, straining to see as she stitched each of the tiny, precise stitches that went into all of her quilts. “Welcome back, child.”

  Standing in the doorway, Renny smiled. “Thank you, Miss Agatha.” The scene before her was nearly as familiar to her as evenings in her own home. But instead of being comforting, it made her miss her own family all the more.

  “Well, don’t just stand there, child. Come in and sit. Your family is well?”

  Renny entered the room. “Yes, they are.” To take her mind off her scattered and fragile thoughts, Renny stared around her. Soft light came from the two lamps sitting on the tables next to each Jensen sister; the room was bathed in shadows that hid the many treasures sprinkled lavishly throughout the parlor.

  This room, as well as all the others, showcased the two women’s talents with needle, thread, fabric and yarn. Added to their own creations were knickknacks of all sizes, materials and shapes, treasures the two women had collected over the past fifty years. Not a single surface was left bare.

  “Sit, child. You must be exhausted. You work too hard, doesn’t she, sister? Was just telling sister that you work too hard.” She and Martha exchanged nods.

  “Yes, indeed. We were just talking about you. It was getting so late.”

  There was no reprimand in the voice, just worry. Renny sighed. “I’m sorry, I left later than usual.”

  The two women clicked their tongues and shook their heads. “We understand, child. Hard road you’ve chosen, leaving your family. Very noble to give your sister and that gorgeous man she married time to become a family.”

  “Yes, very noble,” Miss Martha parroted. Setting down her needles, she gently unhooked the cat’s claw from the yarn. “How are your brothers and sisters? Been a while since they’ve come to see us.”

  Renny sat in an overstuffed chair and curled her legs beneath her. She longed to plead exhaustion or a headache so she could be alone but knew from experience that it would just send the sisters into a mothering frenzy.

  “Everyone’s fine. Spent the day with the boys—rode out to repair fences a
nd herd some stray cattle back onto our land.”

  The O’Briens didn’t have a large spread but had enough to be mostly self-supporting, which was all that her father had wanted. His riches, as he’d often bragged, were jewels in the form of his wife and children.

  Staving off memories of her father and his love of the land, Renny launched into several tales of Kealan’s exploits during the day, including putting a harmless snake in his older brother’s water canteen when Daire declared Kealan too young to help with the fence repair.

  Both women laughed. “Ah, boys will be boys,” Miss Martha said, her voice a soft coo.

  Renny smiled, her heart filling with love and pride. While they might not be the best behaved on all occasions, the children’s indomitable spirits had helped them survive during the last year.

  “Daire didn’t think so. He tossed Kea into a mud puddle and sat on him. Then they had a mud fight until Kea promised never to pull another prank on Daire.” She laughed softly. “I threw them both in the river to wash themselves and ended up getting pulled in. Spent most of the afternoon in the river.”

  The three women grinned. Kealan, being Kealan, would resume his prankster ways, and Daire knew it well.

  “Kea is so determined to do whatever Daire does. Doesn’t take much to set them off to arguing. They drive me nuts.”

  Miss Agatha smiled. “And you love every minute of it, dear.”

  Renny smiled softly. “Yeah, I do. I sure miss them.” She couldn’t help the soft sigh. It didn’t matter that she spent all day, each day, with her family. She missed them at night, missed staying home and being part of the family.

  Work kept them so busy during the day that evenings were typically the time when they were able to relax and enjoy all that came with being part of a loud and boisterous family.

  Miss Martha ran her hands through her cat’s thick fur. “Brave thing for you to have done, Renny. Leaving your family like you did.” She turned her head to smile at Miss Agatha. “Why, I don’t know what sister and I would do without each other.”