by Sara Orwig
“Rachel, let me talk to you. You’re not giving me a chance,” he said quietly, wanting to avoid saying too much in front of all the men who might lose their loyalty if they discovered the reward for Eb’s arrest.
“How much chance would you give us? You’re a Pinkerton’s man, aren’t you?”
The question hung in the air like a predatory hawk above the earth, ready to swoop and destroy. And the question was going to destroy everything good and fine between Rachel and him. It would destroy Josh’s faith in him, Eb’s trust in him. And it wasn’t doing Eb any good to stand and talk about Dan’s being a Pinkerton’s agent in front of all of the other men.
“Answer me, Dan Overton!” she snapped, her green eyes narrowed and filled with fire. And even now when there was such a bitter feeling and she was so furious with him, he wanted her and he admired her. Her feet were planted apart, her finger on the trigger, the rifle raised to her shoulder. She had put her Pa almost behind her. Dan wanted to stride up to her, toss aside the rifle, tell her he wouldn’t arrest Eb, and then kiss her.
“Answer me!”
“I work for Pinkerton’s.” He didn’t want to tell everything now, because it would be so easy to find out there was a price on Eb’s head, too easy for one of the others to take Eb back. “Rachel, let me talk to you. There’s no reason for any of this.”
“Get your horse and get off our place and if you ever come back, we’ll shoot.”
He saw the glistening silver of tears brimming in her eyes and he hurt for her and himself. He wanted to hold her and reassure her he wasn’t going to take Eb Kearney back to Mississippi, but he couldn’t talk about it here in front of the others. A ten thousand dollar reward would change a lot of men’s hearts and loyalties.
“Go now or I’ll pull this trigger,” she said in a voice that carried conviction. And he knew she would. She looked furious and hurt enough to squeeze the trigger when his back was turned. He looked at Eb.
“I wasn’t going back,” Dan said, trying to avoid saying Mississippi, to avoid giving any clue to the others about the trouble. He glanced at her, and the muzzle of the rifle raised a fraction to aim at his heart. He held up his hands, turned to get his shirt and walked away, crossing to the trees to pick up his saddle and bridle.
In minutes he mounted, swinging up into the saddle, turning.
They all remained where they were with the rifles and revolvers trained on him. Dan looked at her, gazing into her green eyes that flashed fire at him. Sending him riding away wouldn’t protect Eb from Pinkerton’s. At the moment Dan couldn’t do anything except leave them. He pulled on the reins, and the sorrel obeyed.
Dan rode away, the sun hot on his shoulders, silence behind him. He knew Rachel felt betrayed and he wanted to hold her and silence her anger and fear.
When McKissick rode up to call today, he probably had seen him and remembered the moments at Sabine Cross Roads. And shortly after that encounter at the Cross Roads, Dan had had to flee for his life because his true identity had been discovered.
Hearing the ringing of hammers, Dan twisted in the saddle to look over his shoulder. The men had gone back to work. Eb was nowhere in sight. The slender figure standing in the sunlight in the boyish clothing was easy to see. Josh stood beside her, her arm across his shoulders.
“Dammit, Red, you should have listened and let me talk to you!” he said softly, knotting his fist. He hurt because he knew they hurt. He didn’t want to hurt any of them. It was unbearable to think about Rachel so hurt and angry with him.
Would he ever be able to mend things with her or with Josh? He suspected Eb would be the most likely to listen to him. Eb was a patient man. How Eubanks had ever goaded Eb to murder was a question Dan would like answered.
Was there a chance Rachel murdered Eubanks, and Eb had taken the blame? They had assumed it was the father, because it was Peter Benton whom Alvin Eubanks talked to every time he had gone to call. But was it Rachel who pulled the trigger, and Eb who took the blame?
It seemed far more likely. Dan glanced again over his shoulder. This time she was the only one standing there. Josh had gone, and Eb was out of sight. She was staring at him, and he knew she could see him turn in the saddle and look back.
“I’ll return, Red. And I’m going to make you listen. And I want some answers from you.” He should have confronted her about Eb, talked to her about what had happened in Vicksburg, but it hadn’t occurred to him until now that she might have murdered Alvin Eubanks. Dan rubbed the back of his neck. He better think of a way to hide the Kearney’s identity soon. Pinkerton’s expected to hear from him. If he delayed too long, Pinkerton’s would take action.
He had to return to talk to the Kearneys and he had to do it soon. When McKissick mounted to go, there were no friendly smiles or waves and Dan suspected Rachel had run him off as well. And if she had, McKissick could cause trouble for them.
“Dammit,” he swore quietly. They needed his guns, his help in protecting them in a fight. Frustrated, he looked over his shoulder across the expanse of grassland at Rachel. She raised the rifle.
He turned and rode through the trees. He wanted to talk to her, but he would have to go back when he could be alone with her. He urged his horse to a canter, heading toward San Antonio. He would give her a day to cool down and then he would ride in to talk to her. And this time he would wait until he could catch Rachel alone. By then, he hoped he could think of some way to protect Eb Kearney. In the meantime, he prayed McKissick wouldn’t cause trouble tonight.
As she stood on the rise watching him ride away, Rachel hurt all over. He stopped once and turned to look at her and she raised the rifle, frightened suddenly that he would come back and she would let him. She had known all along that someday he would ride away, so whether she sent him away or not, he would have gone. It was devastating to learn that he had deceived them. Angry and hurt, Josh had dropped the revolver and run away crying. She didn’t know what Pa felt.
Going back to the wagon, she searched for Pa, finally finding him at the creek where he was sitting on a stump with a piece of wood and a rasp in his hand. He was smoothing down the wood as he glanced at her.
“Dan’s gone, but he can ride to San Antonio to the Rangers,” she said quietly.
“Lyman didn’t make a mistake?”
“No, he didn’t! He knew Dan was a halfbreed. And Dan didn’t deny being with Pinkerton’s.”
“If the sheriff comes, Rachel, I’ll have to turn myself in.”
“No!” The word burst from her. “No, you won’t! We’ve come all this way and you’re not going to give up and go back now.”
“If I don’t, we have to pack and run, and I’m getting tired of running. I don’t want to keep moving on.” He brushed wood shavings off his knee and rubbed the board lightly with his finger. “Life may not be any safer in the next town. If Pinkerton’s followed me this far, then they can pick up the trail easily.”
“Pa, let’s pack and move on. We can gather up the herd and head north and settle somewhere else. This is a big country.”
He continued to rub the rasp on the wood, steadily smoothing it out while he shook his head. “No, honey. I’m not running. If the Rangers come to get me, I’ll go back.”
“Pa!” Tears burned and streamed down her cheeks and she threw her arms around his neck. “I can’t bear for you to go back because of that horrible Eubanks! Please, Pa, let’s gather up our things and the animals and go.”
“No, Rachel. A man can’t run forever.”
She couldn’t hold back her tears, clinging to him and crying on his shoulder, feeling as she couldn’t bear it if the Rangers came to arrest him. Trying to control her emotions, she straightened up and wiped her eyes, walking to the creek to dampen the end of her skirt and wipe her face.
“Maybe you should have let Dan say what he wanted to before you sent him off.”
“No, I shouldn’t. From that first night, he’s stuck to us like a burr to a fuzzy stocking. I couldn’t fig
ure out why. He wanted with us all the time on the trail; after we reached town, he stayed. Then to come out here—” She stared at the water, remembering, “He could want only one thing, Pa. He was just biding his time. Maybe there were times he was on the verge of arresting you and something stopped him. Like that time we rode into town. He came riding back to the wagon looking like a snarling dog. Lissa wanted to ride with him and he took her on his horse, and that was that.”
“I don’t know, Rachel. I can’t figure a man coming out here and pounding nails in the hot sun like he has if his intentions were so all-fired bad. He’s worked hard. He risked his life for us during that ambush. More than just that time.”
“I know, Pa. I know,” she said, hurting. “Maybe we’re both right. Maybe his intentions changed as he got to know us, but he never admitted who he was. He always kept part of himself to himself,” she said, knowing that was what hurt terribly. She felt deceived and was frightened that he still might return to arrest Pa. “We need to keep watch all the time and when he comes, we’ll be ready.”
Pa looked at her, his blue eyes filled with sadness. “Can you turn against him, Rachel?”
“After our experiences during war, yes, I can!” she snapped, wondering if she actually could. He had mounted up and ridden away today, but several guns were on him, not just hers.
“Rachel, tomorrow I want to ride into town to talk to Abeyta. I want to tell her what’s happened.”
“Yes, Pa.”
“When I go, I’d feel better if you and Abby and Josh and Lissa would go with me, just leave the men here. I’ll be gone and we no longer have Dan.”
“That’s fine, Pa,” she said, giving his request little thought. “I can get some things I need and Abby always loves to go to town.”
“I think Dan will be back,” Eb said, standing up. “Maybe next time you should wait and listen to what he has to say.”
“Pa, come sit down.”
He shook his head. “There are lots of things to be done and now we’re minus his help and his guns. Rachel,” Eb said, turning to place his hands on her shoulders. “I want you to promise me. If Dan returns to arrest me, you won’t interfere.”
“Pa—”
“I want a promise. I’ve had a good life. Abby, Josh, and Lissa all need you. I don’t want anyone hurt.”
“Pa, I can’t promise that. We need you!” she said rapidly, afraid he would turn himself in to save them all trouble. “Pa, I need you.”
“You may think you do, but you don’t really, Rachel. Promise me, you won’t try to stop him.”
“I don’t know. I’ll do the best I can.”
“You always do,” Pa said, smiling, hugging her lightly before he turned away to stride back toward the barn. She walked to the water’s edge, seeing only images of Dan loving her, of his dark hands on her pale hips, of him pulling her over him, his hot shaft sliding into her, filling her so slowly. She covered her face with her hands, finally crying. Her shoulders shook and she hurt and wanted to scream at him and strike him, and at the same time she wanted him back and she wanted to be in his arms.
She sank down on the grass, crying until all the sobs were gone. She bathed her face in the cold water. She needed to get back. There were chores, supper to get ready.
Taking a deep breath and lifting her chin, she stood up, brushed off her pants, and picked up her rifle.
Josh disappeared until afternoon and then he was quiet, his face white and pinched, anger showing in his eyes.
“Rachel, I think you should have let Dan talk to you,” Abby said. “Josh is so hurt. You don’t know if Dan intended to arrest Pa, because he hadn’t done anything. You should have talked to him about it.”
“Abby, I know the time would come when he would have arrested Pa. He intended to take Pa to Vicksburg. When he was in San Antonio, he sent a telegram to Vicksburg.”
“You think he’ll take Pa back?” Abby asked in a stricken voice. Tears welled and Rachel turned away, merely nodding her head.
That night she didn’t sleep, still angry and hurt, and now worrying about Pa’s safety. She stared at the starry sky. Where was Dan now? When would he return to get Pa?
At the Red Garter Dan sat back in his chair, looking at the cards in his hand, knowing his concentration wasn’t good. The Red Garter saloon was noisy, crowded, and smoky. Golda, one of the singers, was close at hand; some of the evening she had come to watch and lean against him, her perfume assailing him.
Once between hands as his gaze roamed over the crowd, he drew a quick breath. Frowning he stared through the smoky haze at a tall, broad-shouldered man in an officer’s uniform. He was with two other officers and he momentarily turned his back, but as they moved through the crowd, he turned so his profile was to Dan.
Anger shot through Dan like a swift jolt of pain. He stared at Walker Marland, looking at his uniform. Captain Marland now. All the old hate and animosity curled in Dan, memories of Solange, of Walker, of the dark night on the river road outside of town.
A woman said something to Marland, and he turned his back to Dan. In minutes he moved through the crowd with the woman, the two of them climbing the stairs.
“Friend or foe?” Golda asked quietly while the dealer shuffled the deck.
He glanced up at her. “Know him?”
“He’s been in several times lately. A new bunch just arrived at Camp Verde not long ago and they’re coming in here now. He’s Captain Marland.”
“We know each other,” Dan said, watching Marland disappear at the top of the stairs.
“And you’re enemies.”
He glanced up at her. “You notice too damned much, Golda.”
She smiled, a full, taunting smile. She was beautiful and he wished he could satisfy himself with her, but there was only one woman he wanted, and he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
He shifted, watching the dealer, knowing he needed to get out of a game where he could barely keep his mind on the cards. Walker Marland was in San Antonio. How long before they would meet? And what would Marland do?
Dan picked up his cards. He knew what Marland would do and he better start practicing his shooting every day, because he was certain Marland would be as good as ever. Would the war have mellowed him any? Dan doubted it. Not Walker. And never where the two of them were concerned.
Golda stood beside his chair, her hip against his shoulder, her fingers winding in his hair. He spread his cards on the table, heard some grumbling as he raked in his winnings and stood up. “Count me out,” he said, turning away. She linked her arm in his.
“Come upstairs and we can talk. I’ve got a bottle of whiskey.”
He gave her a mocking glance. “You don’t want to talk.”
“You look like a man who needs a sympathetic ear badly.”
“It shows that much?” he asked, startled, because he thought he kept his feelings to himself better than that.
They headed toward the stairs and when they entered her room, she closed and locked the door. She crossed to a crate and lifted out a bottle, going to a cabinet to get out two glasses. He took the bottle from her hand and uncorked it, pouring the amber whiskey in each glass.
“She kicked you out?”
“Yes,” he said, giving her an amused glance.
“And I’ll bet,” she said, running her forefinger along his chest, “you haven’t ever had that done to you by a woman before.”
He shrugged, looking past her, lost in thoughts about Rachel. He took a drink, feeling the whiskey go down, heating his insides.
“There’s talk around town. McKissick is courting a woman who came to town a while back. She’s widowed. Bets are out on how long before he’ll just take what he wants.”
“So how does that tie in to me?”
“Word is you’ve been out there working for her pa. I saw her in town this week. She’s a beautiful woman and so is her sister.”
“That she is,” he said softly.
“I can’t imagine you take
n up with some fluttery Southern lady unless there was more to her than that. It takes a lot of woman to tie a man like you in knots.” Golda stood up and unfastened her purple taffeta dress, letting it fall to the floor.
His breath caught, the temperature of the room seeming to jump to tropic heat as his gaze ran over her lush body. Her breasts were full with dusky tips, seeming too heavy for the rest of her slender body. Her waist was narrow, her stomach slightly convex, a thick bush of dark curls at the juncture of her thighs. His body responded, his shaft becoming hard as he pulsed with desire. Her eyes narrowed when he looked back up at her face.
She turned and lifted her arm and he saw a white scar down her side. She looked over her shoulder at him.
“If you think that scar mars your beauty,” he said hoarsely, “you’re wrong.”
She turned, bent down swiftly and yanked up the dress, wriggling into it and fastening it, looking at him with a mocking gleam. “You’re very much in love with her.”
He drew a deep breath and suddenly she laughed. “Men! You’re blind in love with her, yet I’ll wager you haven’t admitted to yourself you love her. And, knowing men, you probably haven’t told her.” She shook her head. “Sometimes I think I’ll join a convent and never look at another man. If I act repentant, do you think they would take me in?”
He barely heard her, thoughts scrambling in his head. He hadn’t told Rachel he loved her. How much in love with her was he? He frowned as Golda stared at him.
“Golda, right now she is the only woman. And I meant it, the scar doesn’t detract.”