“Miss Cait, good afternoon. Did your Da want me?”
Cait shook her head and tried to hold back her tears. She held out her arm and said: “I burned it and was just going to run it under the pump.”
“I’ve heard that some sort of grease is good for a burn,” said Gabe.
“Ma says cold water works best,” she answered.
“Then come over here, Miss Cait,” drawled Gabe. “Hold your hand under and I’ll pump.”
Cait winced as the water first hit, but then the cold began to bring some relief.
“How did you burn it?”
“I was ironing sheets and I didn’t get my hand out of the way quick enough.”
“Ironing sheets…well, I can’t say as I’ve ever slept on ironed sheets but I imagine it would be real nice,” said Gabe politely, thinking that clean sheets were a luxury.
Cait looked up into his face and laughed. “Oh, it was ridiculous of me, Mr. Hart. It was just something to do this afternoon to keep me busy. I was through washing and weeding.”
Gabe had noticed her reddened eyes and suspected that the tears she had shed were as much over Henry leaving as for the burn.
“Let me see your wrist now,” he said, letting go of the pump. Cait held it out to him and he held it as he ran his finger gently next to the angry-looking mark.
“This must hurt quite a bit,” he said softly.
“The water helped, Mr. Hart.” And it was true. The pain had subsided enough that she was less conscious of it and very conscious of the touch of Gabe Hart’s finger on her arm.
“I am sorry to see you in any kind of pain, Miss Cait,” he said awkwardly. It wasn’t his place to say anything about Henry and her decision to stay, but he hoped she knew that his sympathy included more than the mark on her arm, thought Gabe, as he stroked around it. Or maybe it was just that her underarm was so white and soft.
Without looking up at her he continued. “I think it took a lot of courage to do what you did, Miss Cait. And after all this is over, well, you can join Mr. Beecham back east.”
“I won’t be doing that, Mr. Hart,” she answered, her voice catching on a little sob. He looked up in surprise. Cait gave him a smile, but the tears were spilling down her face again. “It wouldn’t be fair to Henry,” she whispered.
He felt her sway a little against him and looked around. There was a rough old bench against the barn where a man could sit and pull off his boots. He guided her over to it. “Sit down, Miss Cait. You’re likely feeling a little faint, given everything that’s happened today.”
Cait let herself be led and sank back gratefully against the barn wall. The mad energy that had filled her all day had drained out of her so suddenly that she felt as if nothing was holding her up. Gabe sat down next to her and they sat quietly for a minute, each aware of the other’s closeness.
Cait could not help be aware that his thigh was touching hers. She could feel the warmth of his leg through her light cotton dress. She should move, she knew, but it felt so reassuring to have him close that she didn’t want to.
“How is your arm feeling now?” Gabe asked, when what he wanted to ask was “What wouldn’t be fair to Henry?” Did she mean she didn’t love Beecham? Or just that she couldn’t keep him waiting till things were settled on the ranch?
Cait held her arm out and he very naturally let it rest in his hand as they both looked. “It still looks as red, but it feels better,” said Cait.
“It may not heal without a scar,” said Gabe, tracing the area around it with his finger again. “It’s not that long, but it looks deep.”
“Well, the scar will serve to remind me of my foolishness,” Cait said lightly.
“Not foolishness, Miss Cait,” Gabe said softly, looking up into her face. His eyes were so blue against his tan, she thought. There were thin white lines around them from where he squinted against the sun. It was a strong, weather-beaten face, almost a hard face, except for his mouth, The curve of his lips softened everything.
All of a sudden, the empty feeling was gone and in its place grew an awareness, an exquisitely tuned awareness of a current flowing between them. She was being drawn to him and he to her, she thought, as her face lifted and his lowered to hers and their lips touched.
It was what she had expected to feel with Henry, and never had, this force between them. Then Gabe pulled away and she almost sobbed aloud in her disappointment. But it was only to look into her eyes and give her a questioning look. She looked back a ‘yes,’ nodded a ‘yes,’ and he ran his finger down her cheek as gently as he had touched her arm. Then he lifted her chin and kissed her.
The first kiss was a gentle brush against her mouth. The second one encouraged her lips to soften and open. With the third, he asked her for all the passionate response she had wanted to give to Henry. It was a long, demanding kiss that took her breath away.
When he pulled away, she wanted to cry out “No, don’t stop, don’t ever stop.” But instead she whispered, her face red with embarrassment, “Oh, Mr. Hart.”
“I am sorry, Miss Cait. I had no right to do that. Especially since…well, Mr. Beecham may be gone, but he’s still your fiancé.”
Cait shook her head. “No, I broke the engagement, Mr. Hart. I realized I didn’t love Henry, not the way he deserved to be loved. I’m…I’m glad you kissed me,” she added with a quick smile. “Henry’s kisses, well, they never made me feel like yours did, Mr. Hart. I know I made the right decision for both of us,” she added.
“It’s been a hard day for you,” said Gabe, standing up and holding out his hand to her. She took it and he helped her to her feet.
“Uh, I’d better get cleaned up for supper,” he stammered awkwardly.
“Yes, and I’d better get in to the house and help Ma.”
She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away and she wanted to turn around and walk right back into his arms. But he likely had a great deal of experience of kissing women like that. She had no idea what it had meant for him. Probably very little. And for her it had meant so much.
Gabe watched her go. Lord, he couldn’t believe he had lost control like that with Mr. Burke’s daughter. Those had been some kisses, though, he thought with a rueful smile and he’d been wanting one for a long time, he had to admit to himself. Her response had been sweet and strong. But that had meant nothing. He’d caught her when she was most vulnerable. As she’d said, they only helped her realize that Beecham wasn’t the man for her. Which was not at all the same as saying that Gabe Hart was.
Chapter Twenty-four
“Elizabeth? Are ye still awake?”
His wife sighed and stirred. “A little, Michael.”
Michael smiled and stroked her hair. He had been sitting down in the parlor after all had gone to bed, trying to imagine an easy way out of his impasse with Mackie. He could think of only one, which was, of course, unthinkable: selling his land.
It was possible Eduardo’s murder would be the end of it and Mackie would finally realize he couldn’t be intimidated. They could wait and see. But he was tired of waiting for Mackie’s next move.
“I am ridin’ over to Mackie’s in the morning, Elizabeth,” he told her as he climbed in next to her.
Elizabeth became more than a little awake when she heard that. “Why, Michael?” she asked. Sitting up against the pillows. “You haven’t decided to sell, have you?”
“No, a ghra. Unless you want me to? If this is all too much for you, I would, ye know.”
“Of course I don’t want you to, Michael,” she said forcefully.
“I am tired of waiting around to see what the gobshite will do next, Elizabeth. I intend to tell him to his face that murdering Eduardo will not make me change my mind. That nothing he can do will change it. He has been running the show long enough.”
“You can’t just ride in there alone, Michael!” Elizabeth said, reaching out to grasp her husband’s hand.
“He can hardly get away with shooting me outright, a ghra. I
’ll be safe enough.”
“Please, Michael, ask Gabe to go with you.”
Michael patted her hand. “All right, if it will make ye feel any better. And only if Gabe is willing to go.”
“But he said he is with us, Michael.”
“Well, working for me is one thing. Openly confronting Mackie is another, Elizabeth, should Mackie decide to go further. Which he won’t, I am sure,” he reassured her.
Michael slid down and pulled his wife in front of him, and spooning against her, fell asleep almost immediately. Elizabeth lay awake for a long time. This country had given her so much, she thought: her first husband, Thomas, Michael, who was her life, Caitlin, good friends in Serena and Antonio. Yet everything it had given had come with the violence that seemed to be a part of this hard land. It had taken her parents and her brother and Thomas. The Dine had suffered greatly for their love for it. And now the killing had started again. She could only hope and pray that Eduardo’s death was the beginning and end of it.
* * * *
Michael was up early the next morning and out to the barn to catch Gabe before breakfast. “I have something to ask you, Gabe,” he said, as Gabe finished watering the horses.
“Yes, Mr. Burke?” It was unusual for his employer to be out before breakfast and all of a sudden Gabe wondered if Michael somehow knew what had gone on between Caitlin and him behind the barn. He looked serious enough. But he was sure that Miss Cait would not have told her father.
“I am weary of Mackie always taking the initiative in this. After breakfast I intend to ride over there and tell him that whatever he does, I’m not giving in to him. I told Mrs. Burke and she is a wee bit worried because I planned to go alone. I said I’d ask you. But I know this may put you in a different light with Mackie. ‘Tis one thing to be my wrangler. ‘Tis another to ride in with me for a confrontation. I want ye to know I have no problem with ye staying here. I’d think no less of ye, especially with yer sister here.”
Gabe didn’t even have to think about it. It was time Mackie knew that Michael Burke wasn’t alone and high time they pushed back at him. “Eduardo was a friend of mine, Mr. Burke. I told you I was in this with you to the end. I don’t like waiting around anymore than you do. I’ll saddle the horses.”
Michael clapped him on the shoulder. “If ye’re sure, Gabe, I’ll welcome yer company. Elizabeth will have breakfast ready for us, so come up to the house after ye’ve got the horses saddled. I don’t believe in facin’ anything on an empty stomach,” Michael added with a smile.
Gabe brushed and saddled Patch and Snowflake quickly. It had been foolish of him to think that Caitlin Burke might have mentioned their kisses to her father. There wasn’t that much to tell, anyway, and it wasn’t likely to happen again.
They rode out after a quick breakfast and Elizabeth and Cait watched them from the porch. The two men were armed, Michael wearing his army revolver and Gabe with a Colt strapped to his left leg. Gabe didn’t wear a gun on a regular basis and Cait was a little shocked when she noticed how well-worn the holster was. It hung on his left side; she’d forgotten he was left-handed. ‘A left-handed gun.’ The phrase popped into her mind and she gave an involuntary shiver. This was a side of Gabe she’d never seen before. He worked so gently with the horses that it seemed incongruous to think of him as having any talent for violence. But she realized to her own surprise, that she was wishing he had, for then he could help keep her Da safe if it came to a fight. But please God it never will, she murmured to herself.
* * * *
It was a half-hour ride to the Bar M and they made it in silence. When they reached the main gate, it was Michael who leaned down to open and close it while Gabe kept his eyes open for any sign of Mackie’s men.
“I don’t like cows, Gabe,” he said with deadpan humor as they rode past a part of Mackie’s herd.
Gabe laughed. “Then you are certainly in the minority out here, Mr. Burke.”
“Oh, I’ll admit I don’t like sheep too much either. They are silly animals, but look at all this range,” he added more seriously, waving his hand in both directions. “It can’t support cattle. Not for too long, anyway. At least my silly buggers don’t eat that much. A few small ranches aren’t bad,” he continued, “but these men like Mackie who want to run thousands of cattle…the land just can’t go on supporting them.”
“Is that why you won’t sell?”
“ ‘Tis one reason, boyo. I don’t like being pushed is another.”
As they rode into the main compound, they encountered a few of Mackie’s men who gave them hostile looks, but said and did nothing. “Ye can stay here with the horses, if ye want, Gabe.”
“I’ll go in with you, Mr. Burke.”
They tied their horses to the corral rails and walked toward the house, while several of Mackie’s hands, including Juan Chavez, watched.
“Lookee here, Bill,” called one of them. “ ‘Tis the mick and his horse breaker.”
Chavez was intrigued and rather amused. It was possible, he supposed, that Burke had changed his mind and was here to sell. But somehow he doubted it. No, he thought that Señor Burke had decided to bring the fight into Mackie’s territory. He only wished he could be there to see Mackie’s reaction. But he’d hear about it soon enough.
They were admitted by the housekeeper who kept them in the hall until she could find her employer. “Señor Mackie is just finishing his breakfast,” she said when she returned, “and he asks if you would like to have a cup of coffee with him.”
Michael and Gabe nodded and followed her into the dining room. They stood there in the doorway until Mackie looked up.
“Come in, Mr. Burke, Mr. Hart. Come in. Helen, you know Mr. Burke, of course. Perhaps you could see to Cook getting them some breakfast?”
“No, thank ye, ma’am,” said Michael. “We ate before we left.”
Mackie gave his wife a quick look and she made her excuses and left the men to themselves. “Sit down, gentlemen. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” he asked blandly as though it were usual for Michael to be making a social call.
“Em, I don’t know that ye will be takin’ much pleasure in our visit, Mr. Mackie,” said Michael with dry humor. “Have ye spoken with Sheriff Butler lately?”
“I saw him just the other day. It was a shame about your sheepherder, Burke. I know what it is like to lose stock to rustlers.”
“If ye talked to the sheriff, then ye know that I don’t think it was ‘sheep rustlers,’ Mackie,” responded Michael, the humorous tone gone from his voice. “I can’t say that sheep-stealing is too common in the territory now. ‘Tis usually cattle they are after.”
“I know that you think that I was somehow behind this, Burke,” said Mackie, in a conciliatory tone. “I suppose I can understand your suspicions. I am eager for your land, I won’t deny it. I will even admit to a little intimidation in trying to get what I want. But murder?” Mackie wiped his mouth and set his napkin down on the table. Looking directly into Michael’s eyes, he said, “I swear I had nothing to do with Eduardo’s death, Burke. I have accepted the fact, much as I don’t want to, that you are as stubborn a mick as I am,” he added with a smile. “I don’t believe that anything I say or do will make you sell.”
“Sure and I hope ye believe that,” Michael said firmly, “for it’s true.”
“Indeed I do. And now that we’ve settled that I won’t be buying and you won’t be selling, maybe we can find a way to get to know each other better as neighbors? You and Mrs. Burke have been in the valley for a long time, but my wife and I are relative newcomers.”
“We all need good neighbors,” Michael responded blandly.
“My wife’s birthday is in a few weeks and I was hoping to invite all our acquaintances from in town and the valley. Will you and your family come?”
“Em, we would be happy to, Mr. Mackie.”
“Call me Nelson. And Hart, I’ll be sure to invite you and your sister, if she is still here. I noticed
that my man Chavez seemed taken with her at the dance. Neither of us is as black as we’ve been painted, you know, Burke.”
“ ‘Tis glad I am to hear it, Nelson.”
Gabe listened to them trading polite compliments and had to concentrate to keep his mouth from hanging open. But he could feel the current between them and realized that underneath the polite fencing, a message was being given and received.
Chavez was waiting by the corral when they came out.
“Buenos dias, señores. I see that your mare has recovered, Señor Burke,” he added, patting Snowflake’s neck.
“Completely, thanks to Gabe’s good doctoring,” Michael answered in the same tone he’d been using with Mackie.
“I hope your business with Señor Mackie has been concluded satisfactorily, señor?”
“I think we understand each other, Señor Chavez,” Michael replied as he mounted Snowflake. “Hasta luego.”
Gabe said nothing until they were off of Mackie’s land and on the road back home. “Did you believe all that, Mr. Burke?” his own incredulity obvious.
“Sure and why shouldn’t I, Gabe?” asked Michael humorously.
Gabe let out a huge sigh of relief.
“You were worrying that I’d be thinking that the fox had suddenly turned into a rabbit?”
“Not exactly.”
“Look,” said Michael, turning in his saddle to face Gabe. “One thing we hoped was he’d give up when he realized nothing, even Eduardo’s murder, would make me sell. Now maybe he has given up. Only time will tell. But ye didn’t really expect him to say: ‘Yes, Burke, I had Chavez murder Eduardo and I can see it didn’t intimidate you so I give up,’ did ye, boyo? How else could he play it but the way he has all along?”
“I guess you’re right. Does he believe you?”
“Oh, he believes me, all right. He knows he’ll never get my land by buyin’ it.”
“Well, then,” said Gabe with a grin, “you’ve won, Mr. Burke.”
“We’ll see, boyo, we’ll see.”
* * * *
After Michael and Gabe left, Mackie summoned Chavez.
Journey of the Heart Page 21