by Lyn Horner
Lil wrapped her arms around him, sun-warmed flesh pressed to his. “Oh, Tye, you’re no curse,” she whispered. “You didn’t make Tom go to Colorado. And you aren’t the one who wouldn’t take time to shore up that tunnel.” She kissed his shoulder.
“After Neil died, you told me it was all right to feel glad it wasn’t me. Well, now I’m telling you the same thing. Mourn for Tom, but be glad you’re alive, because if he was truly a friend, he wouldn’t want your guilt. He’d want you to be happy. Don’t you see?”
Wondering what he’d done to deserve her, Tye groaned and caught her to him. He buried his face in her soft, grass-scented hair, letting it catch the tears that squeezed from his eyes. His voice was a ragged whisper.
“Damnú, woman! Ye unman me, and I love ye for it.”
She uttered a strangled little cry and tangled her hands in his hair, forcing him to look up. Love and desire glistened in her beautiful brown eyes, and her cheeks were as wet as his. Needing her more than the air he breathed, he captured her mouth and shut out the past.
* * *
Adjusting her hat against the late-morning sun, Lil recognized the incoming rider with her father. “That’s David with Pa,” she said as Tye rode up to join her. “Looks like his leg healed all right, or he wouldn’t be sitting a horse.”
“Aye. I wondered if he’d end up with a bad leg like his da.”
“Yeah, me too,” Lil said distractedly. Wichita waited only a few miles ahead – Wichita and Frank Howard. The knowledge clawed at her insides as the two men approached.
“Howdy, Lil,” David said as they drew rein. He shook hands with Tye, adding, “Glad to see both of you made it here safe and sound. Lil, your pa tells me you’re the segundo now.” His smile held brotherly affection and sympathy. “Sorry to hear about MacClure.”
Lil nodded. “Thanks, David. You look a heap better than the last time I saw you.”
“That he does,” Tye said, leaning on his saddle horn. “Well, brother-in-law, have ye fought any more steers lately?”
David laughed. “Nope. Don’t dare. Jessie threatened to banish me to the bunkhouse and let Sul tend me next time.”
“Saints preserve us! Surely she didn’t mean it. No woman could be so cruel to her man.” Tye swung his blue gaze to Lil, bathing her with a teasing caress. “Could she, colleen?”
Had he shouted it, he couldn’t have made it any plainer that he was her man. Her face grew hot with embarrassment. Seeing David grin and her father raise his eyebrows, she glared at Tye, getting a wink in reply. She just might strangle him later.
“I see Tye’s not riding drag anymore, Del,” David remarked, diverting attention away from Lil.
Her cheeks cooled, and she almost laughed at her father’s sudden, grumpy scowl. He’d owned up to being wrong about Tye, but admitting it to David obviously stuck in his craw.
“Harumph. Made some changes along the trail,” he muttered, tugging on his hat. “So how’s the market look?”
“Not bad,” David replied with a twitch of his lips. “Prices are up from last year, like we hoped. Thought you might want to ride ahead with me and meet some of the buyers.”
“Might as well, I reckon. Lil and the boys can bed the herd down outside of town. How’s the grazing along Cowskin Creek?”
Before David could answer, Lil put in, “Pa, I’d like to ride into town with you now. The crew can handle these steers without me. It’s just a few miles.”
Her father and David eyed her in mild surprise.
Tye straightened in his saddle. “Lil, if you’ve got in mind begging Howard to back off, I won’t have it,” he decreed.
Clenching her reins in one fist, she planted the other on her hip and glowered at him. “Is that right? Appears to me like somebody’s gotta talk sense into one of you, and you sure won’t listen.”
Angry color darkened his features. “Saints above, woman! I don’t want ye near the no-good bithiúnach!” His horse shied at his harsh tone, but he curbed it and swung his gaze to her father. “Del, don’t let her go. You know what Howard tried to do.”
“He’s right, girl,” her father said, pointing a finger at her. “You stay away from Frank. Anyway, there’s no cause for a fuss. Judd promised to keep a tight rein on him.”
Lil started to argue, but a bark of laughter from David stopped her. Her father glared at him, clearly seeing no reason for amusement. Neither did she, not with Tye’s life on the line.
“Sorry, Del, I’m not laughing at you,” David said. “It’s just the idea of anybody keeping a rein on Frank Howard is pretty hard to swallow.” He looked at Tye. “I take it you had another run-in with him?”
“Aye. Last time I broke his nose.” Tye snapped. “I only wish it had been his head.”
David grinned. “Well, you won’t have trouble with him in Wichita. He left for home this morning.”
“What! Are you certain?” Lil blurted. “Why would he –?”
“Because he got drunk and shot up Rowdy Joe Lowe’s place last night. Marshal Earp threw him in the calaboose, and his pa had to pay a granddaddy of a fine to get him out. The minute he did, he hauled Frank down to the station and put him on the train.”
Stunned, Lil closed her eyes as a great wave of relief swept through her. Tye wouldn’t be forced into a gunfight with Frank after all.
Her father gave a disgusted snort. “That hotheaded fool’s gonna get booted off the Circle H if he’s not careful,” he said.
Lil opened her eyes to find Tye’s blue gaze upon her. His anger had faded. A playful smile fanned across his lips.
“I suppose I can quit practicing my draw now,” he said. “’Twill give me time to concentrate on more pleasant matters.”
His teasing didn’t embarrass Lil this time. He was safe, he would stay with her. Nothing else mattered.
* * *
Standing before a tall, mahogany-framed mirror in her room at the Douglas Avenue Hotel, Lil struggled to tie a bow in her hair. Doggonit, she hated dresses and petticoats and hair bows! But Tye had insisted she wear the blue outfit she’d worn that night in Fort Worth.
“Darn you, Tye Devlin! I’d like to see you do this.” As soon as the words were out, she giggled, imagining him with a ribbon in his wavy black hair. A most unmanly picture.
Finally, after several attempts, she got the blue grosgrain strip tied straight. At least she hoped it was straight.
She crossed to the window, held the lace curtains aside, and craned her neck to see the sky. Tye had promised to meet her in the lobby around noon and take her to lunch. By the sun’s position, she had another hour to wait. As fidgety as a caged bird, she paced the room, wondering if Tye had more in mind than lunch. Would he ask her to marry him? Her heart fluttered at the thought.
Yesterday, he’d left the herd out on Cowskin Creek, where they’d grazed the cattle for the past three days, and had ridden into town, turning down her offer of company. There was something he needed to do alone, he’d said. Like arrange for a wedding, maybe?
“Blasted man better want to get hitched.” She’d like to have a ring on her finger before she became a mother. Not that she knew if she was carrying his baby, but . . . .
The thought of holding a tiny boy with Tye’s black locks and bluebonnet eyes set her aglow with misty warmth. But what if it was a girl? The poor thing sure wouldn’t have a very ladylike mama, but she’d have plenty of love. Maybe she could learn about hair ribbons and such from her Aunt Jessie.
Lil grinned as she paused to glance out the window again at the busy street. Jessie wasn’t going to like having her for a sister-in-law, but she’d just have to get used to the idea. As for Ma, she’d probably never forgive her for marrying an Irish Yankee. Lil sighed. She didn’t want to hurt her mother, didn’t want to be disowned by her, but if that’s the way it turned out, so be it. Never again would she let anyone stand between her and Tye.
Unable to bear being cooped up a moment longer, she strode into the hall, locked her door, an
d dropped the key in her otherwise useless reticule. As she headed downstairs, she decided to stroll down to the stockyards and make sure the boys had finished moving the herd onto the holding grounds. David and her father had closed a deal yesterday; their cattle would soon be on a train heading east.
Tye had said he would clean up before meeting her. Maybe she’d catch him for a minute before he went to find a bathhouse. Away from him for less than three hours, and already she hungered for the sight of him. She laughed at herself as she stepped outside into the sun. There were other things she hungered for as well.
After nearly two months on the trail, she’d delighted in her own hot bath at the hotel. Wickedly, she’d recalled that starlit night back in the Nations, with Tye’s hands upon her in the water. And my, how she’d longed to have him in that warm tub with her. Her body still thrummed with desire when she imagined it.
Quelling her wanton urges, Lil looked around as she headed toward the cattle pens on the southeast side of town. The dusty street bustled with wagons, horses and people. Wichita had grown a lot since she’d last seen the place two years ago. Several brick and stone buildings now faced the main streets, and a passel of new false-fronted wooden stores had cropped up. There were also more saloons and gambling halls than ever.
From what Lil heard, one of the most popular places was Keno Hall at the corner of Douglas and Main. A slurred tenor voice shouted “Keno!” from that direction now. The gambling house also offered faro, monte, poker, roulette, and any other game a cowboy wished, according to Choctaw Jack and Dewey, who’d visited the place last night. They’d returned to the herd drunk and happy, but with empty pokes. The other men had also done their share of celebrating, thanks to David. He’d advanced part of their pay. Now that the cattle were sold, they’d get the rest, and like most drovers, they’d probably blow it all right here in Wichita.
Excited voices rang out ahead as Lil neared the stockyards, and she saw people start to run in that direction. She grabbed the arm of a passing cowpoke.
“What’s going on? Why’s everybody in such a hurry?”
“There’s gonna be a gunfight, ma’am,” he said excitedly, obviously impatient to go watch it. “You’d best stay away.”
“Gunfight? Between who?” she questioned in alarm.
“A fast-draw name of Frank Howard and some dumb Irishman is what I heard.”
“No!” Lil released his arm and staggered backward, feeling as if she’d been punched in the stomach. “Th-that’s impossible! Frank left for Texas days ago.”
“Well, ma’am, I reckon he came back. Uh, you all right?”
She couldn’t answer. Stumbling past him, she picked up her skirts and ran. When she neared the stock pens, she had to push through a crowd of gawkers.
“Let me by!” she cried, fighting her way to the front. Then she stopped dead, terror-stricken by the sight of Tye facing off with Frank outside the pens.
“Tye!” she screamed. “Don’t do it!”
He shot her a startled glance, then focused his gaze on Howard. “Lily, what are ye doin’ here? Stay back!” he shouted.
Before she could disobey, a pair of hands clamped around her arms from behind. “Do not, Señorita Lil,” Luis Medina said quietly in her ear. “Unless you wish to see him killed.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Thank God for Luis, Tye thought. Why hadn’t Lil stayed at the hotel? Had someone told her Howard was back? His own shock at seeing the Texan had given way to a realization that this was fated to happen, but he didn’t want Lil to witness it, no matter what the outcome. Feeling her panicky terror across the distance separating them, he struggled to ignore it.
“Come to watch your Paddy-boy lover die, Lil?” Howard sneered, lips twisting. His hand hovered over his fancy-handled Colt as he slowly backed up, opening more space between himself and Tye.
“Frank, you don’t need to do this,” Lil said shrilly. “I’ll do anything you want. Anything!”
“Be quiet, woman!” Tye shouted. “You’ll not trade your honor for my sake.”
Howard laughed at him. “Don’t worry, Paddy, I ain’t about to take her up on her offer. Not ’til you’re six feet under leastways. Then maybe I’ll find out how much you taught her.”
“Shut your filthy mouth and draw,” Tye gritted, filled with a sudden, savage desire to kill.
Hate contorted Howard’s face; then his features stiffened and he grabbed for his gun. Tye’s hand moved by pure reflex. He felt the hard, familiar weight of his gun and the sharp kick the .44 gave when he squeezed the trigger. The blast echoed through his head.
Howard jerked as his gun started to come up. The .45 went off, the bullet kicking up dirt a few yards ahead of him. His mouth worked and he stared at Tye in surprise as a scarlet splotch flowered on his striped blue and white shirt, directly over his heart.
Tye heard Lil cry out and the crowd gasp as Howard crumpled to his knees, then down on his elbows. He hung there a second or two before his face hit the Kansas dust.
Gun powder reeked in Tye’s nostrils as he numbly holstered his pistol. Howard’s insult to Lil had made him want to kill the bastard with a primitive ferocity, but the feeling faded as he stared at the man’s body. This wasn’t the first life he’d taken and it might not be the last, but it gave him no pleasure. He hoped it never would.
Silence ruled for a moment; then excited voices flew around him like vultures circling a feast.
“Damn, I didn’t know Irish was such a hand with a gun,” Choctaw Jack said. He stood with Dewey near the gate to the stock pens. Dewey muttered a stunned response, but Tye didn’t catch the words.
Distracted by a husky cry, he saw a rush of blue from the corner of his eye. Then a human whirlwind with long sable hair and wet dark eyes slammed into him, rocking him backward a step. She clutched him tight and buried her face in the open throat of his shirt. His arms came up to hold her.
“Oh, Tye, I thought sure he’d kill you,” she choked.
“It’s all right, colleen,” he whispered, feeling her tremble. The relief that flooded her mirrored his own. He bent his head, inhaling her sweet, familiar scent and thanking God that he was alive to hold her. When he looked up, he saw several Circle H riders gathered around Frank Howard. They’d ridden up with him minutes ago.
One man, older than the rest, knelt to roll Howard over and check for any sign of life. “He’s dead,” he announced shortly, drawing muttered curses from his companions.
“Let me through, dammit!” a gruff voice bellowed, and Del Crawford barreled through the crowd with David behind him. Del stopped short when he spotted Howard. “Oh, Christ!” he muttered.
David sighed heavily and strode toward Tye, wearing a look as grim as death. Luis, Dewey, Jack and the rest of the TC crew also edged closer – eyeing the Circle H crowd, Tye noticed in alarm. He didn’t want this to turn into a pitched battle, didn’t want to see anyone else killed.
A young, swarthy-skinned cowboy among the Howard faction scowled hard at him. “You’re a dead man, mister. When the boss finds out you killed Frank, he and Travis will hunt yuh down and hang yuh. That’s if us boys don’t do it for him first.”
“No!” Lil cried, pivoting out of Tye’s embrace. “Frank’s been itching to draw down on Tye for months. He came back here to kill him.”
Tye clasped her arm. “Lily, stay out of it,” he said.
She threw him a wild glance. “I can’t! I’m not going to let you get blamed for this. You only defended yourself. Everyone saw that.” Her comment drew a chorus of agreement from the crowd.
“Reckon that’s so, ma’am,” said the man kneeling beside Howard. He rose and motioned his friends to be silent.
“I tried to talk Frank into getting back on the train when he showed up a while ago, but he said he had a score to settle.” He scratched his bristly jaw. “I’ll see his pa knows that, but I dunno if it’ll change things. Frank is his son. Was, I mean.”
“Can you get word to him, Hoit?�
� Del asked, trudging over to the man, with whom he was evidently acquainted. He stared glumly at Howard’s body. “I know Judd and Travis left for Chicago yesterday on business. They tell you where they were planning to stay?”
“Yessir, Mister Crawford. The boss said I oughta know, just in case we needed to get a hold of him. Reckon I’d best send him a telegram.” He looked down at the dead man and shook his head. “Dadblamed young fool. This will near kill his ma. His pa, too, I expect.”
“Durn tootin’ it will. Mister Howard doted on Frank,” the swarthy drover put in, eyes drilling Tye again. “If I was you, mister, I’d run far and fast.”
“Turk, shut up,” Hoit snapped. “It ain’t your place to speak for the boss.”
As he reprimanded the youth, the crowd parted for a stern-faced man dressed in a black frock coat with a badge pinned to one lapel. He took in the scene at a glance, then turned to one of the locals and told him to go fetch the undertaker. His order was instantly obeyed.
“Wyatt Earp,” David said quietly to Tye as the lawman approached. “The town hired him in April to put a lid on all the killing. He’s tough but fair, so I’ve heard. Just tell him how it happened. You’ve got plenty of witnesses.”
* * *
Tye studied Lil as she paced over to the window in the hotel lobby and stared out, holding one hand pressed to her stomach. She was worrying herself sick over him. He felt the worry and fear churning within her. He’d never been able to block out her emotions. They beat at him now, causing him to rub his temples as he watched her.
She looked as lovely as he remembered in the flowered blue gown, her dark hair caught back with the ribbon he’d given her. If the day had gone as planned, she’d be seated across a table from him right now and he’d be asking her to marry him.