by Austin, Lori
“Thank you,” she said, and kissed him quickly.
Noah glanced at Tildy, who winked, then turned her back on them. “For what?”
“Defending me.”
“You act like no one ever has before.”
“Only you. You were right. No one crosses Robert Kelly.”
“He doesn’t scare me.”
“Does anyone scare you?”
“You do, Ruth.” Noah touched her hair, light and sweet. “You scare me to death.”
Chapter Eight
Leon had not slept. No surprise there. How could a man sleep when his entire future had gone to hell?
He’d never figured himself for a jealous man, but ever since he’d ridden away from the Kellys’ last night, jealousy had bubbled in his belly, hot and near painful. He was furious, too, and embarrassed by the uncommon excess of emotion.
He was a reasonable man, but what he felt for Ruth had never been reasonable. He’d loved her from the first moment he’d seen her. Or maybe it just seemed that he had. How could he fall in love with a girl at the age of twelve and remain in love with her for ten years, especially when she felt nothing for him beyond friendship?
Leon loved to be needed. When he helped others, he felt as if he were accomplishing something with his life. From the moment she’d walked into school, Ruth had needed him. Watching over her had made him feel stronger, more in control of his life and the world around him. As the years passed, he came to equate safety with Kelly Creek and happiness with her.
“I do love her,” he muttered as he rode out to the Kelly place. “And dammit, I always will. She’s mine.”
He might have gone on indefinitely, being her dear friend always, if her father hadn’t tempted him to hope for more.
Leon, you’ll never have what you want unless you ask for it. I gave you my approval; all you need is hers. Then you can have everything—the bank, the town, Ruth. It will all be yours.
“The man is as bad as the serpent in the garden.” Leon pulled his hat lower and hunched his shoulders against the bitter wind. “But I listened. I was tempted. And now the thought of having her for my wife …” He sighed and shook his head. “I can’t get it out of my mind.”
Dark and cold, the land flattened out before him. Leon took a deep breath and waited for the soothing emotions that always followed the sight—the peace of home, the solid lightness in the never-ending expanse, the knowledge that here he belonged and here he would stay.
This time, Leon waited in vain. The loss of his hope had lost him his serenity, too.
He wanted to live here forever, but he wanted to live here with her. Without the promise of Ruth, Kansas had lost a whole lot of its appeal.
When Ruth had said she would consider being his wife, his life—which had been pretty good already—turned wonderful. He’d gone out with his posse, smiling. He’d kept grinning through snow and wind and ice. He’d ignored the little voice, as insidious as the serpent, that whispered that Ruth did not care about him the way he cared about her.
And now he knew why.
Walker.
There was something funny about the man. Even if Leon didn’t want him gone more than he’d ever wanted anything else, he’d recognize that, and he planned to find out just what it was about Noah Walker that set all his instincts on edge.
The scent of cigar smoke roused Leon from his reverie. He raised his head to discover he’d ridden almost all the way to the Kellys’. Robert Kelly stood outside, enjoying a cigar near the barn.
Perfect. Leon had come here to get some things straight. He had hopes he wouldn’t have to bother. Kelly had offered Leon his empire along with Ruth, and to Kelly the empire was what counted. So perhaps Ruth’s father had given Walker the boot already. Perhaps even now Ruth was crying because Walker was gone. Leon could sweep in and be her hero. He’d always wanted to.
Kelly took a long pull on his cigar and let the smoke drift upward along with the icy mist of his breath. “Figured you’d be back.”
Leon dismounted. He wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Is-s Ruth all right?”
“More all right than I’ve seen her in a lifetime.”
Leon winced. Kelly had never been a tactful man or a very nice one.
“I hear she turned you down last night.”
“Yes. What did you have to say about that?”
“Me?” Kelly flicked his ash into the snow, where it hissed like a serpent. Leon needed to stop thinking about snakes whenever he came near Robert Kelly. “I didn’t say anything. It’s her choice.”
“You’d rather she was courted by your groom than by me?”
Kelly’s lips twitched. “He’s no longer a groom. I promoted him.”
“To what? Your horse trainer?”
“My bank teller.”
Leon gaped. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m always serious.”
“This makes no sense. A week ago you wanted me to marry her. You offered me the bank, the town, everything.”
“That was last week.”
The anger that had sprung up in Leon the night before, the anger he’d spent the past several hours banking, ignited, surprising him. During the war, as well as in his job, he’d seen how abominably men behaved when they allowed anger to rule their actions. So Leon had always tried to remain calm and behave rationally. But right now he was furious, and he couldn’t seem to control the emotion.
“You don’t even know the man, Robert!”
“I know enough. He beat you fair and square.”
“I didn’t realize Ruth had to be won with my fists.”
“There are a lot of things you don’t realize, Leon.” Kelly flicked his cigar high and away.
“What about Ruth?”
“What about her?”
“Is Walker the best man for her?”
The man shrugged. “He’s the best man I’ve found to protect my legacy. You’re good, but not good enough now that he’s here.”
Kelly strolled back to his house, leaving Leon to ponder what he’d just heard. He had to say he was angrier now than when he’d arrived. For a man who rarely got angry, it was difficult to think amid all this turmoil. Leon could almost understand how enraged men lost all sense of right and wrong in the heat of the moment.
Kelly had never appeared fickle before. He’d always been a cold man but a smart one. What had happened? Was Ruth’s father ill? Or just plain crazy?
Leon had taken an oath to protect Kelly Creek. The chaos that had torn apart his life once would never come near him or anyone he loved again. Right now, Leon smelled chaos on the wind.
Though he wanted to stay near Ruth and Kelly Creek, to protect them from every danger, the biggest danger to both looked to be Noah Walker.
To get rid of the man who had ruined his perfect world, all Leon had to do was uncover Walker’s secrets.
Everyone had at least one.
Leon glanced out over the huge, open prairie. Walker’s secrets lay west. He would find them, and there was no time like the present.
Hours spent cleaning with Tildy made Ruth run upstairs when she was released from captivity.
After donning the split-skirt riding habit the housekeeper had made her for Christmas, then bundling against the wind, which had kicked up and turned biting in the early afternoon, Ruth hurried to the barn to get Annabelle.
“Didn’t think I’d see you today,” Tim growled. “A bit nippy for a pleasure ride, wouldn’t you say?”
“Annabelle needs the exercise, and I need the air.”
Tim grunted. “I suspect Walker could use some air by now, too. Don’t know why a boy that’s as good with horses as that one would want to spend his life indoors counting coins. But then I never understood folks as well as I understand critters.”
His words made Ruth wonder. Was Noah taking the job just for her, because of his misguided notion that he wasn’t good enough? Would he be miserable as a banker? Would he become a younger version of Tim—old before
his time through disappointment and boredom?
Disturbed at the notion, Ruth wrung her hands and thought back to last night. Noah had been excited about the opportunity, pleased to have such a chance. If he was unhappy down the line, they’d go somewhere else. Do whatever it was he wished. She didn’t mind. She’d follow Noah anywhere and be glad of it.
Dilemma solved, at least in her mind, Ruth moved toward the stall. “I’ll just take Annabelle out for a little while.”
“It’s of no never mind to me. Unless, of course, you don’t get back before dark. Don’t make me come out looking for you.”
Ruth smiled to herself. Tim sounded gruff, and was, but he also had a soft heart. Mostly for horses but sometimes for her, too.
He continued to fix the strap on a bridle while she saddled her horse. From the moment he had taught her to ride, Tim had made her take care of her mount. Even when her father had growled that she should not be doing so, Tim had ignored him. In the old groom’s opinion, if you owned a horse, you took care of that horse. If you didn’t, you weren’t worthy of the animal. Ruth had to agree.
Annabelle nuzzled her neck, and Ruth rubbed the velvety muzzle. “How’s my girl?” she murmured.
Boom.
Ruth started at the loud thud from the next stall. Annabelle merely turned calm brown eyes toward the big bay peering at them between the wooden slats, then threw up her head as if to say, “I’m not at all interested.”
Noah’s horse kicked the wall again, and the entire stall shook.
“Here, now!” Tim appeared. “She ain’t goin’ to fall in love with you if you behave like a yearling.”
The bay blew his opinion of that between loose lips and stomped his foot.
Tim slid a carrot to the animal—a sure sign of affection. The only time Tim was happy was when he was with his horses. As he’d often said, horses could be trusted. They were exactly as they appeared—unlike people.
“Sweet on Annabelle, he is. But she’s having none of it. She’s sweet on him, too. But it wouldn’t do to let him know, now, would it, girl?”
Annabelle ignored the both of them, moving from the stall into the barn and turning her ample rump in their direction. Perhaps the mare was onto something, since her behavior made Noah’s horse stomp and bluster and kick the door some more.
Ruth followed, securing the saddle and checking the stirrups. Her father always frowned upon her riding astride, but after the first time she’d fallen on her hip fooling with a sidesaddle, she’d told Tim to make the thing disappear, and he had. She’d adored him ever since.
“Good horse is Dog,” Tim crooned.
Slowly, Ruth turned. “Who named him Dog?”
“Not me.” Tim shrugged. “Might not even be his name. Maybe his name’s Hog, Pog. Even Log. My hearing ain’t what it used to be.”
As far as Ruth could recall, Tim’s hearing had always been slim to nonexistent—and worse whenever his wife was around. Probably because it annoyed Tildy no end when Tim did not hear her nagging.
“Looks up when I call him Dog,” Tim continued. “Good horse. Trained well. Taken care of right.”
Tim rubbed Dog’s neck. The praise was not for the animal but rather for the owner. To Tim, taking care of one’s horse right was tantamount to being an all-around wonderful fellow.
Ruth smiled. Tim not only knew horses but people. She trusted his judgment—always had.
“I’ll be back before dark,” she called, but the groom was busy talking to his new best friend.
Damp, icy air smacked Ruth in the face as soon as she rode out of the barn. Her eyes watered. As she swiped at the tears running down her cheeks, a shrill wind shot up one leg of her skirt. The sensation was uncomfortable but nothing Ruth hadn’t experienced before. During a Kansas winter, you either stayed indoors for seven months or you gritted your teeth, ignored the cold, and thought about something else.
“A horse named Dog,” Ruth murmured. “That’s something I never would have figured in Noah.”
Perhaps he was right. She didn’t know him very well at all. She still loved him. You didn’t need to know what a man liked for breakfast or why he’d named his horse Dog to know that you loved him. Ruth loved the essence of Noah—his kind heart, his gentle soul, his protective spirit. If she were being honest, he wasn’t hard to look at, and she didn’t mind his physical height, breadth, or strength, either.
But most importantly, they were alike in all the ways that counted. They’d come from the same place; they were lonely inside, and only with each other did they feel as if they’d found home.
So they’d get to know each other better, learn all the little things that didn’t matter, and Noah would understand what Ruth knew already. They were destined to be together.
Searching for another topic to keep her mind off the horrendous cold, Ruth dreamed about the night to come. She’d change for dinner and do something different with her hair. When she walked into the dining room, Noah would gaze at her, and in his eyes she’d see admiration. He’d tell her she was beautiful, he’d hang on her every word, he’d touch her, and it would no longer matter that she’d never been the daughter her father wanted because she would be the woman Noah needed.
Annabelle shied, jerking Ruth from the warm dining room of her imagination and dropping her into a cold reality. She glanced at the ground, but only snow circled Annabelle’s legs.
“Too cold for snakes, girl. What’s the matter?”
Annabelle tossed her head and picked up speed. Ruth turned a wary gaze on the horizon. A few dark clouds gathered, but no storm had arrived as Leon predicted last night. Perhaps it had blown itself out to the west.
The nicker of another horse behind them made Ruth catch her breath. How could she have been so deep in her dreams that she hadn’t heard any hoofbeats?
Cautiously, she turned her head and nearly collapsed with relief to see Noah closing in fast. Ruth reined in Annabelle. The mare fought it, shaking her head and prancing about. But Ruth remained firm, so the horse merely pawed the snow and blew out steam through her nose as Noah pulled up.
His horse was panting, and Noah’s face was red from the wind. Ruth smiled, happy to see him. Had he run all the way just to be with her?
“What in hell are you doing out here alone?” he snapped.
Noah had never spoken in that tone to her before. She didn’t care for it.
“I’m riding my horse.”
“Alone?”
“Do you see anyone else?”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t spar words with me, Ruth. When Tim told me you’d gone out alone, my heart nearly stopped.”
He was worried about her. How sweet. “I ride alone all the time. Nothing bad has ever happened.”
“And it won’t. Because you’re not doing it anymore.”
Ruth’s lips tightened. Maybe not so sweet. “Neither Tim nor my father has ever said a word about it.”
Noah growled several words beneath his breath, which sounded suspiciously like curse words applied to her father’s name. “They don’t know what’s out here like I do.”
“What’s out here?” She threw out her arm to indicate the rolling expanse of white. “Snow atop dirt atop hibernating snakes.”
“Blizzards. Frostbite. Indians and worse.”
“I’ve never seen an Indian. Father said they’re all confined in the territory or gone north for good.”
“Just because the Kansa and Osage tribes have gone doesn’t mean there aren’t a few renegades about. This is their land, and they’ll never forget it. I’ve seen some of the women they’ve taken away. They can never go back to the way things were before.”
“I’ve heard that some men refuse to take their womenfolk back after they’ve been kidnapped.” She’d always thought those men were lower than bottom-feeding fish. “Are you one of them?”
“No!” He appeared suitably horrified at her accusation. “Nothing would ever make me deny you. I’ve seen captives, and they don’t want to com
e back.”
“Why not?”
“Once they’ve accepted a new life, the old life is over. They’re as out of place in the white world as they were once in the Indian one.”
Ruth wondered for a moment how he’d seen so much from a farm in western Kansas. But his next words made all questions fly from her mind.
“I don’t want to lose you, Ruth.”
Her heart went warm and liquid. “You won’t.”
“That’s right. I won’t. Because there’ll be no more riding your horse alone.”
Her heart cooled and hardened. She was thoroughly sick of being told what to do. Even from Noah, orders did not sit well with Ruth anymore.
“Annabelle needs exercise, and so do I. I can’t stay cooped up in the house all winter, Noah. I’ve seen things, too. I’ve seen women come to Kansas and go back east crazier than bee-stung steers. Days upon days spent alone, trapped inside, listening to that blasted wind blow regardless of the time of year. I have to get outside and move no matter what you say.”
“Then you go nowhere without me.”
“You’ll be working every day. Do you plan to take me on my constitutional every evening as you would a dog?” Noah’s horse snorted and tossed his head. “Not you,” she snapped, unreasonably annoyed and uncertain why. She never got angry or at least never let it show. There was too much to lose if someone took offense.
Noah blinked and, if it were possible, went redder beneath the windburn. “How did you know his name?”
“So Dog is his name?” Ruth couldn’t keep the amusement from her voice.
Dog whinnied, and Annabelle turned her back on him, which put Ruth’s back to Noah. Exasperated, Ruth guided her mare around again. “How did he get a name like …” Ruth hesitated as Dog’s ears pricked in her direction. “That one?”
Noah shrugged. He appeared reluctant to share, and that just wouldn’t do.
“I thought this courting period was meant for us to get to know each other. The least you can do is tell me why your horse is named … you know.”
Noah stared at Dog’s ears. “I always wanted one.”