“Yes, of course,” Charlene replied, stifling a grin, her eyes on Tyler’s. He, too, snickered at Barker’s predicament, who stood behind Olivia like a bantam rooster glaring at the back of her head.
Olivia turned to see him. “Why are you still here? Go. Shoo.”
Stiff legged, Sheriff Barker walked to the door and went through it, giving the door a satisfactory slam on his way out. Despite her pain, Charlene lapsed into helpless giggles, holding her ribcage with her healthy right arm. Tyler, unable to laugh, grinned.
“The man needs to learn who is in charge around here,” Olivia said with a sniff. “And it’s certainly not him.”
“Mother,” Charlene said when she could speak. “You shouldn’t push him around like that. He’s the sheriff.”
“Bah,” she snorted. “He’s a man first.”
Within a few minutes, Barker opened the door again, carrying Tyler’s straw pallet with him. Without a word, he marched into the room, passed them by, and vanished down the short hallway. He returned on the run, his revolver in his hand, heading for the door.
“There’s someone out there,” he snapped as he raced by.
Chapter Thirteen
Tyler rose instantly, not bothering with his shirt. His pain and handicap forgotten, he followed on Victors’s heels.
“Tyler, no,” Charlene cried, forcing him to glance back.
“I have to help him,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’ll be all right.”
Ducking through the door, Tyler hurried as fast as he could to his horse and yanked his rifle from its scabbard. Though running hurt him too badly, he strode quickly around the side of the house, the lamps inside illuminating the small yard through the windows. Socking the rifle into his gut, he cocked it, then paused to listen.
The sound of running feet came to his ears, Victor’s voice raised in anger, no doubt cursing, a short distance away. Yet, another sound came to him, one that was much closer. Sliding into the shadows, his rifle held with its barrel pointed upward, Tyler edged around the corner of the house, still listening intently. The faint noise came again.
Tilting his head, Tyler caught what sounded like a boy’s sob. At first, he thought it was Tosahwi but dismissed it immediately. Where he stood, there was no way he could hear Tosahwi, even through the window. In addition, this sound came near his feet. Creeping closer, he lowered his gun and followed it around the corner of the house.
“Hold it right there,” he demanded, his voice harsh.
Instantly, chaos erupted. Two shadows leaped from the ground in a flurry of arms and legs. Something hard struck Tyler behind his knees, knocking him flat to the ground, his rifle under him, his chest and shoulder screaming for mercy. He groaned, rolling over, catching up his gun, struggling to his feet.
But he was far too late. Whoever was lurking behind the house had hurtled the short fence, dodged a neighbor’s barking dog, and vanished into the night all before he stood up. “Dammit,” he spat, wiping grass from his mouth. Switching his rifle to his left hand, he rubbed his aching arm and chest.
Limping back to the front of the house, he wearily climbed the porch steps and walked inside to the lights and the worried expressions of Charlene and Olivia. While he was out, Olivia had begun wrapping Charlene’s arm, and appeared to be about half done.
“What happened?” Charlene asked, relief clear in her voice. “Where’s the sheriff?”
Tyler set his rifle in the corner, then sat down, waving his right hand in the direction of town. “Vic’s off chasing someone,” he replied, leaning his head wearily against the sofa’s back. “There were two still back there, but they knocked me down and ran off.”
“Do you know who they were?’ Charlene asked as Olivia continued wrapping her upper arm.
“Oddly,” Tyler replied with a faint frown. “I think they were young. Boys.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I thought I heard crying,” Tyler answered. “Soft sobs that I thought at first might be Tosahwi. But it couldn’t have been.”
Charlene shook her head. “I think if it had been him, we would have heard him from here. Besides, he hasn’t cried once since he’s been under our roof.”
“Tough boy,” Olivia added, nodding. “Nothing but sweet smiles in spite of his terrible pain.”
“I agree,” Tyler said, closing his eyes. He felt utterly wretched and worn out, his pain worsening since his latest fall to the ground. Craving nothing except sleep, he wondered how rude it would be if he went to his pallet.
Just then, Victor opened the door and came in, his silver mustache quivering. “Damn it, he outran me,” he snapped. “Lost him outside of town.”
“There were two more still creeping about at the back of the house,” Charlene told him as he sat on the sofa beside Tyler with a snort. “They ran off.”
“I think they were kids, Vic,” Tyler added, his eyes still closed. He really needed to lie down and wondered if there was any laudanum left.
“Kids, eh?” Victor’s voice sounded thoughtful. “Maybe they were out to play a fool prank.”
“There.”
Tyler opened his eyes in time to see Olivia tie a neat knot in Charlene’s bandage, and stand up. “Tyler, I’ll have a look at your head now. Sheriff, would you mind fetching fresh hot water?”
He scowled again, but before he could speak, Olivia added, “After which I’ll serve up the roast. You’re invited to stay, of course, Sheriff.”
His glower immediately faded, and he went without protest into the kitchen, carrying the basin. Olivia took his place next to Tyler, her fingers parting his hair as she peered intently at the injury to his head. His eyes met Charlene’s and offered her a tiny grin. She smiled wanly back.
“It doesn’t look too bad,” Olivia murmured. “Lucky for you. It could have been so much worse.”
“I have a hard head,” Tyler admitted wryly.
Victor returned with a fresh basin of warm water and a clean cloth, setting it beside Olivia. He offered her a sardonic bow and sarcasm. “Anything else, my queen?”
“Yes,” Olivia replied, busy washing Tyler’s crusty wound. “Sit yourself down and keep quiet.”
Tyler grinned, occasionally wincing under Olivia’s ministrations, as Victor sat in the other armchair, sulking. His expression slowly altered to thoughtfulness, his fingers stroking his mustache.
“Kids, eh?” Victor said again, staring into the cold fireplace. “Not too many boys around here given to this sort of mischief.”
“I agree,” said Charlene. “Most children are home eating their suppers and doing chores this time of the evening. Under the eyes of their parents.”
“Exactly,” Victor replied. “And why you folks? You ladies are respected in this town, not usually the targets of boyish pranks.”
“However,” Olivia added, rinsing the cloth in the basin, “we are the only ones in town with a Comanche in their house.”
“Could it be that this Johnson fellow you have in your jail has friends?” Tyler asked, Olivia dabbing once more at his scalp. “Pals who might want to hassle the ladies because of the kid?”
Victor shook his grizzled head. “I dunno. He might, as I scarce know the man. He’s too drunk to chat much during his stays in my jail.”
“He’s not drunk now,” Charlene pointed out. “Maybe you could ask him about it in the morning.”
“That I can do.”
Finishing with Tyler, Olivia stood up, the basin in her hands. “I’ll set the table and serve up supper.”
Charlene rose to her feet as well. “I can help, Mother.”
“You should sit back down, girl,” Olivia replied sternly, heading to the kitchen.
Ignoring her order, Charlene followed behind her and both women vanished into the other room. Tyler watched them go, then discovered Victor staring at him, his blue eyes penetrating.
“She’s a good girl, ain’t she?” Victor asked, his expression suddenly neutral.
“That she i
s,” Tyler agreed with a small grin. “Dealt with getting shot and me hurt with guts. She’s a tough one.”
“Been through a lot.” Victor nodded. “Some people roll over and die. Some get tough. Like her.”
His eyes suddenly bored into Tyler. “You like her then?”
“Of course, I like her,” Tyler replied, annoyed. “So do most people.”
“That ain’t what I meant, and you know it.”
Tyler lay his head back and groaned, staring at the ceiling. “This is not a good time for matchmaking, you old coot.”
“I think the world of that girl and her ma,” Victor went on. “I reckon you’d be good for both of them. Just know that I’ll still be keeping an eye on you, make sure you don’t do ‘em wrong.”
Tyler raised his hand in a dismissive wave. “What will you do? Shoot me?”
“I ain’t above doing just that. I see how that girl looks at you, and you at her. You do right by her, Tyler, I mean it.”
“You’re worse than some old biddy woman, sticking her nose where it don’t belong.”
“I’m just giving you fair warning.”
“Warning received.”
From the corner of his eye, Tyler saw Charlene take a full plate from the kitchen into Tosahwi’s room, then return a few minutes later. She waved her right hand at them when she came out. Though her face appeared wan and pale, Tyler felt glad that she was on her feet in spite of what she went through that day. One tough gal.
“Come in, gentlemen,” she said, “before it gets cold.”
His left shoulder screamed with pain as he struggled to get to his feet, Victor watching him with concern. He picked up his shirt to don it but needed Victor’s help to get it on and buttoned. “Criminy,” he muttered, tucking the tails awkwardly and untidily into his jeans.
Though the roast beef, potatoes, and buttered beans smelled delicious, Tyler had little appetite. His head pounded, his shoulder throbbed, and he felt nauseous. He ate as much as he could observing that Charlene, too, ate only a little. Her mother eyed them both with concern while Victor downed his dinner with the voracious hunger of a starved wolf.
“You two need a good night’s rest,” Olivia commented. “And a dose of laudanum.”
Charlene nodded. “After I help you with the dishes.”
“I can handle the dishes, dear,” Olivia said, rising. “You lie down on the couch, and I’ll bring you the medicine.”
Without an argument, Charlene stood shakily and aimed a lopsided smile at Tyler and Victor. “Good night, gentlemen.”
“Sleep well, ma’am,” Tyler replied, watching her leave the kitchen.
Victor also stood up. “I’ll take the horses to the livery, boy,” he said. “Get some sleep. Ma’am, that was a right delicious meal. I’m much obliged.”
“You’re welcome, Sheriff.”
“I’ll pass by the house through the night, keep an eye on things.”
With that, Victor departed, Tyler listening to the front door open and close. He watched Olivia pour a small amount of wine into glasses, then drop laudanum into each one. He hoped his stomach, still churning somewhat, would accept it, and that he wouldn’t retch it all back up.
“Here,” Olivia told him, handing him a glass. “Drink it down, then get some sleep, Tyler.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Olivia took the other glass to Charlene as Tyler swallowed the nasty concoction, yet craved its pain killing and drowsy effects. Standing, his knees quivering under him, he set the glass on the counter, then walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. Olivia bent over Charlene, who lay on the couch, as Tyler picked up his rifle to take with him.
Leaving them, he made his slow way into Tosahwi’s room. The Comanche woke as he entered and gave Tyler a quick smile. “We’re bunk mates for a time, kid,” Tyler said, dropping the gun beside his bed on the floor.
He blew out the lamp, then lay down on his pallet, fully dressed. With the laudanum taking effect quickly, his head spun like a wicked tornado. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply, and within minutes, he slept.
* * *
Heading toward the kitchen the next morning, yawning, Tyler heard Charlene’s voice speaking emphatically. The odors of bacon frying and brewed coffee made his belly rumble in appreciation. “I have to go in to work, Mother,” Charlene was saying. “I’m fine.”
“You certainly are not fine,” Olivia replied. “I know Jean and Harold will give you a day to rest.”
“Of course, they will,” Charlene said as he entered the doorway. “That’s not the point. I am obligated to work.”
Both women noticed him standing there and cut off their argument. Tyler felt his face heat under their scrutiny, as though he was a little boy caught eavesdropping. “Er, sorry to interrupt,” he said.
“Not at all,” Olivia replied. “Please help me convince my stubborn daughter to remain at home today.”
“Well, ma’am,” he stammered, “I couldn’t do that. If Charlene feels she can handle her work, then she knows what’s best.”
Charlene grinned in triumph as Olivia snorted. “I thought you could talk sense into her. Sit down, Tyler, and eat some breakfast. I’m going to take this into Tosahwi.”
Picking up a full plate of hot bacon, fried eggs, and bread, Olivia stalked from the kitchen, still annoyed. Tyler glanced at Charlene and shrugged, rubbing his aching left shoulder with his right hand. “I just hope you’ll be careful. You don’t want to start your arm bleeding again.”
“I’m sure Jean and Harold will assure me the easy tasks,” Charlene replied with a tiny grin.
She had apparently washed and clad herself in a fresh dress of pale green, which set off her hazel eyes. Fingering her braid, she stepped closer to him, gazing up. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I been trampled by a runaway horse,” he replied, grinning.
“At least your sense of humor is still intact. What will you be doing this day?”
“I need to ride on back to my ranch,” he replied, leaning against the door jamb.
“You should stay here. You’re hurt worse than I am.”
“I have stock that needs feed and water,” Tyler said. “And I’m not that bad off.”
Charlene nodded at last. “Will you come back this evening?”
“Count on it.” Tyler gave her a quick wink and briefly touched her nose with his finger. Charlene caught his hand, gave it a brief squeeze, then let it go.
“I don’t want to be late,” she whispered.
Standing aside, Tyler permitted her to pass by him and watched the sway of her hips, admiring her grace when she walked. Taking a deep breath, wincing at the stab of pain in his chest, he turned to sit down at the table as Olivia came back. Without speaking, she filled a plate with food, set it in front of him, then left the kitchen.
Without the nausea, Tyler found the breakfast delicious and ate his fill. Olivia returned by the time he finished, and he wiped his mouth on a napkin. “Thank you, ma’am, for the hospitality,” he said, wondering if she would give him an argument about riding to his place.
“I do hope you’ll come back this evening, Tyler,” Olivia replied with a small smile. “It’s rather nice having you around the house.”
Her words startled him. “You knew I was headed out?”
“If I can’t keep Charlene here, I certainly can’t keep you. It’s far more difficult to keep a man resting when he should.”
He chuckled. “I will be back, ma’am.”
“Just be careful is all I ask.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Still early in the day, the heat had already begun to rise as he strode down the sidewalk toward the livery stable and his horse. He passed the Apple Tree mercantile store and fought an inner battle with himself to not go in and check on Charlene. She’s a big girl, and sensible. If she needs to go home to rest, she will. He also saw Victor riding toward him on his tall dun, spitting a wad of tobacco on the street.
Reining i
n, Victor scowled down at Tyler. “Got word this morning,” he said without a greeting. “Three horses got stolen from a farm just outside town yesterday morning.”
Tyler squinted up at him. “You think it might be related to whoever shot at us?”
“Could be. I find it right peculiar that horses are stolen not long before you and Miss Quinn went riding.”
An Unconventional Bride For The Rancher (Historical Western Romance) Page 12