Tried and True (Wild at Heart Book #1)

by Mary Connealy

  Bo Langley was solid, in temperament as well as build. Well suited to being a lawman in the unsettled West. He looked mighty grim as Aaron laid out the evidence against his wife’s children. He’d heard it all from Tucker, and he’d had time to think about it while Tucker rode out for Aaron and Kylie.

  “I haven’t seen Bert since the day of the arrow attack. Haven’t heard a word out of him. Of course, I’ve been gone mostly. But I got back last night, and he’s never late to the table morning, noon, or night, and he missed every meal since I’ve been here.

  “Hiding a wound would explain that. I’ve known they were lazy youngsters, but I’ve hoped they’d grab ahold of something and start pulling. Figured a man’s gotta grow up sometime. And Myra, she’s a decent-lookin’ gal and smart enough. She works hard in the diner, along with Erica. Figured she’d say yes to one of the men who’ve asked for her hand and she’d move on west, be someone else’s problem. But she never has. She’s got a sharp way about her, not wanting to build a life with hard work. Taking a shine to Coulter is about what she’d do.”

  Shaking his head, Bo went on, “They grew up with a no-account pa, who liked his liquor, accordin’ to my wife. They had an arrogant old grandpa with too much money in the old-money South, who helped the boys shirk from the war. They took to hiding in the swamp in Alabama. I can’t say I even blamed ’em much. Nasty war, but it might’ve made something of ’em. Reckon the boys will do some time in the territorial prison. Don’t know what we’ll do with Myra, but her time in my home is over. Let’s bring ’em in.”

  Tucker had picked himself out a comfortable chair and settled in. “I don’t reckon you need any help bringing back three foolish kids, one wounded, one a girl. I’ll just wait here.”

  Aaron followed Langley out of the jail. They went around to the back of the diner.

  “Our living quarters are mighty cramped. I plan to build a house, but I’ve refused to do it. I’ve wanted Myra and her brothers uncomfortable in the hopes they’d move on. I guess they’ll go now.” Langley led them up a flight of stairs to a small set of rooms. It was suppertime in the diner. Voices and the clanking of plates and utensils sounded through the floor. A single small room served as the only room for the family to gather. A couple of doors off must lead to bedrooms. Langley was right that it was cramped. Tiny was a better word for it. Six people lived here, and with a baby on the way.

  Aaron smiled. Bo Langley was a stubborn man. How could three adult children stand this? Why hadn’t they found some way to get out on their own?

  Bo went straight to a closed door and swung it open. Aaron was right behind him, and he saw a young man stretched out on a pallet, wearing a long-sleeved shirt. The way the kid sat up, favoring his arm, was as good as a confession.

  “Go on, Bo. I’m resting.”

  “Bert, get out here. You too, Archie.”

  Another kid, full grown but still scrawny, sat in the corner, his knees drawn up to his chest. He gave Bo a sullen look and seemed to be thinking about whether to mind the man who housed and fed him.

  “Just get up, Archie.” Bo’s voice rang with disgust. “Both of you move. Now. Didn’t either of you give a thought to how bad your ma was going to feel when this came out? Were you so foolish you thought you could get away with it? Well, you didn’t, and now she’s gonna live with the shame of knowing her children are in prison for the attempted murder of Miss Kylie Wilde.”

  Aaron stood behind Bo and was tall enough to watch over the bulky man’s shoulder. Kylie trailed him, but she couldn’t see in. He heard her gasp. It was awful to hear those words spoken so bluntly. Aaron slid his arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. She leaned on him, and it was the sweetest thing in the world to support a woman and know she welcomed it.

  He saw the fear on Archie’s face. What color there was in Bert’s face quickly drained, until Aaron wondered if he’d be able to stand. It was late enough that Myra should be done downstairs anytime now.

  “Can we wait until Erica and Myra come up, Masterson?” Langley asked. “I know the whole town will hear about it tomorrow, but for tonight, can I break the news to my wife privately? Give her one night to get past the shock of it?”

  Aaron nodded. “Let’s get these two locked up. I’ve got questions for ’em. We can come back for Myra.”

  Archie didn’t tell them much. He was a mix of sullen and terrified, which came down to utter silence. But Norbert confessed everything, including that he’d shot the arrows. As that was the most dangerous thing that’d been done, and he was admitting to it, Aaron wasn’t sure just what crime to even charge these two young fools with.

  They went for Myra an hour later, and she came in. Erica stayed back at the diner with her baby, a one-year-old who stayed on her hip while she worked all day. With another baby soon to come, the woman was worn to a frazzle by the end of the day, and the news of her older children being arrested shook her badly enough that all she could do was sink wordlessly into a chair.

  Langley didn’t put Myra in the cell with her brothers. Instead, he let her sit, white-lipped, on a hard chair in front of his desk.

  “I wanted to marry Coulter. I’ve been interested in him ever since we settled here.” Myra stared at her hands. “There were rumors about Coulter wanting that land. I thought if we scared her off . . .” Myra glanced up at Kylie, then back at her hands.

  “I’m the one who came up with the idea.” Archie finally spoke up. “I’m not letting you take the blame for this, Myra. I heard someone say Coulter might marry Miss Wilde to get that water hole. I told Myra we oughta get the claim for her, and then Coulter would marry her.”

  Myra shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve tried to gain his attention and never had any success.”

  Archie sat on a thin cot in the single jail cell beside Bert, looking hopeless. “I thought if we scared her, Myra could homestead and he’d marry her. We were trying to run you off is all, Kylie, not kill you.”

  “Her name is not Kylie to you,” Aaron said. “And it’s not Miss Wilde. We’re married now, so her name’s Mrs. Masterson. I suggest you call her by it.”

  All three of the youngsters looked up in such comic surprise, it underlined their resemblance to each other.

  “With Mrs. Masterson married, the claim became mine. I released it and Coulter bought it. It’s all settled.”

  “Like I said, it was my idea,” Archie said. “Norbert was just helping. He’s best with a bow. Myra promised Coulter would hire us once she married him.”

  “You could have killed Kylie.” Aaron was having trouble seeing this young lady locked up in the territorial prison. He was having trouble seeing any of them there. “At the very least, you could have burned down her cabin. And using arrows could have stirred up trouble with the Shoshone. Don’t you care if you start a war between whites and Indians?”

  Archie jerked his head up. “Isn’t there already trouble between whites and Indians? I didn’t think it’d hurt if there was a little more.”

  Aaron’s eyes closed on the pain of this kid’s ignorance.

  Tucker erupted from his chair so hard the chair flipped over backward and crashed to the floor. He moved like a striking snake toward the cell.

  Tucker always smiled. He always looked amused by life. Sure, he went around heavily armed, but Aaron had never seen him upset, let alone angry. But right now, Aaron saw how the man could survive in a brutally hard country for years on end. Matt Tucker was a hard man, fast and mean, and no one you wanted to cross.

  Aaron would have thrown himself between Tucker and the boy if iron bars hadn’t stood between them already. Aaron’s stomach twisted at the thought, because there wasn’t much doubt that in any fight between Aaron and Tucker—between just about anyone and Tucker—Tucker would come out the winner.

  “I was raised by a Shoshone woman.” Tucker’s voice lashed like a whip. “The Shoshone are good people. Abusing a woman is bad enough, but trying to foist off the blame on someone else makes you the wor
st kind of low-down coward. No man can do that and still call himself a man, not anywhere, and sure as certain not in the West. Gage Coulter is a hard man, but he’d never get roped into the trap you were setting for him.” Tucker looked at Myra. “He’d never have married any woman he didn’t respect just to get himself a water hole.”

  Aaron hadn’t known Tucker long, but this was the most talking he’d heard the man do. In fact, he’d just said more words in one long rant than he’d probably said total in their acquaintance, and Tucker wasn’t done.

  Tucker’s eyes, usually friendly if a little wild, flashed with cold rage as they moved to Archie, then Bert. “And he’d’ve taken one look at the two of you and read you like a book. Neither of you would’ve spent one hour working for him. What’s the matter with you? You’re full-grown men. Where’s your pride? You should be ashamed of living off your ma like a batch of pups still on the teat. Instead of heading for the hills to live off the land or staking your own claim to a homestead, you’re plotting against a woman and an honest man.”

  Tucker stormed forward and grabbed a bar of the jail cell and looked to want to tear it loose. “Now you’re headed for prison, and it’s all for want of the simple sense to get an honest job. A job that wouldn’t be a bit more work than it took to get yourselves into this mess.”

  A mountain man took care of himself and expected others to do the same. It appeared that such a man held those who didn’t in contempt. And involving Indians, when he’d lived with Sunrise most of his life, was too much.

  Tucker turned to Marshal Langley. “Anything you need from me to lock these three no-accounts up, you’ve got. I read their tracks and I know they attacked Mrs. Masterson with burning arrows. Later it was two of them, without Bert, who broke into her house and put the snakes in. Circuit Judge Blodgett knows my word is good, and I’ll be glad to testify. Now I’m leaving before I do something to get myself thrown in there with ’em. Because no one here wants that to happen.”

  Tucker stormed out. He slammed the door so hard the glass in the window rattled.

  Silence reigned, broken only by the sound of galloping hooves as Tucker rode out of town.

  Finally, Langley said, “I ain’t locking Myra up. You got a problem with that, Masterson?”

  Aaron hoped Tucker didn’t. “Nope.”

  “You boys will stay here until Judge Blodgett comes through, and he’s overdue, so I hope it’ll only be a few days. I don’t reckon what you done will amount to prison time, but when you get out, don’t figure on coming home. And don’t stay in the area, or anywhere you might run afoul of Matt Tucker. You’re on your own. I’m ashamed of myself for making you force my hand. I should have said no when you traipsed along with me when I headed west, and I should’ve said no again when you moved into that little room with your ma and me. I let myself believe putting up with your laziness was worthwhile, because having men around was good protection with me gone so much.

  “Well, now I’m saying no. You’ll not sleep under my roof for one more night. And, Myra, the next cowpoke who asks for your hand, you’d better say yes, because your days in my home are numbered.” Langley looked at each of his wife’s children, burning his eyes into theirs. None of them met his gaze for long.

  He nodded toward the door. “Head on home, Myra. I’ll be right along.”

  Myra stood from her chair. When she reached Kylie, on the other side of the marshal’s desk, she stopped. She stared at the toes of her boots for a long moment, then finally she raised her eyes. Aaron saw the guilt in them and was glad the girl had enough sense to feel it.

  “I’m sorry for what we did, Mrs. Masterson. It was cowardly and stupid. I never meant any harm to come to you, but I know what we did was dangerous. I hope someday you can see your way clear to forgive me, but I’ll understand if you don’t.” Dropping her gaze, she hurried from the building without waiting for a response.

  Langley turned to Kylie. “I reckon your troubles are over, Mrs. Masterson. I’m mighty sorry my family was a party to all of this.” He looked at his stepsons. “Have either of you boys got the decency to apologize to Mrs. Masterson?”

  “I’m the one who hit your house with the arrows, Mrs. Masterson.” Bert was curled up on the lone cot in the lone cell. He looked to be suffering, but with no doctor for a hundred miles, there wasn’t any help for that. “We ran wild in the swamp and woods in Alabama during the war, and I got good at bringing in food for the family with my bow. I should’ve used that skill to strike out on my own in the mountains. I know how to live off the land. But Arch and me got it in our heads that we’d find some easy life like we had when we were kids and Grandpa had the plantation. There are some big spreads around, like Coulter’s, and they reminded us of the life we had back home, living high off the hog. I reckon we forgot we were kids when we lived so easy. We only remembered Pa and his drinking and how he carried on.”

  Bert’s eyes went to Langley. “I’ll hit the road as soon as I’m loose. You’re right that we need to get a move on. I’m sorry, Bo. We’ve been poor sons to our ma. Maybe when I’ve made something of myself, I’ll come back for a visit.”

  Langley managed a half smile. “Sounds good, Bert.”

  Archie wasn’t so polite. Aaron got the feeling he was the most like his pa and the furthest gone down the path to worthless. He said to Kylie, “Sorry we brought you trouble, Mrs. Masterson.” But he sounded less than sincere, more like he was sorry he’d gotten caught.

  Kylie nodded, stood, and moved toward the door. “I think we’re done here, Aaron. Can we get back to our new cabin? We can get more work done before the sun sets if we hurry.”

  Aaron took her arm and led his wife out of the jailhouse.

  “I thought to take you out for supper, Kylie, but I’m not much in the mood to take a meal at Erica’s Diner tonight if you don’t mind.”

  Kylie smiled. “I think I’d rather eat grass with the horses.”

  “Maybe all our troubles are finally under lock and key.” As Aaron boosted her up on her horse, though he wasn’t a superstitious man, he regretted saying that—like he was begging for more trouble to land smack-dab on top of his head.

  20

  Tucker kicked his horse into a full gallop and was halfway to Masterson’s new cabin before his head cleared enough to even know where he was going or why.

  Sunrise.

  He was going to see his ma. She’d be there. He knew her as he knew no one else on earth, and she’d taken Kylie under her wing. So she’d be at the cabin, building it, making sure a chick she’d decided to claim had a snug nest.

  And those varmints in town had tried to make it look like Sunrise and her people were attempting murder. Things in the West were touchy enough. What they’d done could’ve flared up into killing with not much to ignite the blaze.

  Those kids were too stupid to know the damage they might’ve caused, but that didn’t make Tucker any less furious. He bent low over his horse and rode like a bat escaping the fiery depths of Hades.

  Finally the drumming of the grulla’s hooves penetrated his anger, and he let the forest in. He’d been riding like a fool. Tucker wasn’t a man who ran around blind, and not paying attention was as good as blind.

  Now he listened and it soothed his raging soul. He eased his mare to a trot and then to a walk. Resting his hand on his mustang’s sweating shoulder, he let the wiry animal’s strength soak into him and silently apologized for working the loyal critter so hard. This was no way to treat the best horse he ever had.

  The breeze sighed through the lodgepole pines. The aspens quaked until he could drink in the peace of their flutter. A sudden quiet rush of activity overhead drew his eyes up to see a falcon swooping away from the regal tip of a fir tree, its narrow peak dipping gently.

  It all helped.

  This was his land, his heart. He understood how this world worked. It was people that were a mystery.

  Give him a grizzly bear or a wolverine and he knew just what to do. Let him stum
ble onto the edge of a glacier or find himself hungry in the middle of a Rocky Mountain blizzard, and he’d handle it without much worry.

  But people. Tucker dragged one hand over his eyes. Those three young whelps trying to steal a claim when they could as soon work for their own. Trying to trick a good man into a marriage he didn’t want.

  What kind of fool woman wants a man who’d only marry her for her land? What kind of worthless kid wants a job wrangled by his sister?

  Thinking of it got Tucker riled again, so he went back to patting his horse and enjoying the woods, hoping he’d find Ma at Masterson’s house.

  He loved that woman. He reckoned he owed her his life, because Pa would’ve probably made a bungle of raising him. And he sure as certain owed her for his love of this beautiful mountain land.

  He checked the powder horn and knife strapped crosswise on his chest, the gun holstered at his hip. The knife up his sleeve, and the two in his boots. His rifle was across his back, his whip was hooked on his belt, and he had a second pistol tucked into the small of his back, with a stiletto—needle thin and razor sharp—slipped into a hidden pocket in the seam of his pants.

  A man didn’t wander this rugged land without being prepared to defend himself, and the more prepared he was, the less trouble he faced.

  All of his upset was gone, and his usual cool head was back in control as he neared the clearing where Masterson was building. He shook his head, wondering why anyone would want to live this close to the noise and smell and bother of all those folks in Aspen Ridge. He’d talked a bit to Masterson and knew this wasn’t permanent. Why then was he building at all? Was the man so narrow-minded he couldn’t think of a teepee? He was killing trees and clearing land for a place he’d only live in a few weeks or months maybe. Certainly he had no permanent plans to stay.

  Tucker liked his ma’s way of living better, and although Tucker had a cabin in the high-up hills, he’d thought long and hard before he’d picked the spot. He’d tramped a lot of miles and lived in caves and teepees and out under the open sky for years before he’d settled.