“I want to get a fast workout from him today,” Edward said to Eden. “I don’t want to concentrate so much on his stamina that I dull his speed.”
“No worry about that.” Eden gave Crusader a couple of pats on the neck. “He’s always quick off the mark.” She had become very fond of Crusader. He was beautiful, spirited, easy to handle, responded eagerly when she asked him for more speed, but was equally willing to settle into a slow gallop. She had ridden a lot of horses in her life, but none generated the excitement she felt every time she rode Crusader.
“Yes, he’s faster than he ever was for me,” Edward said.
“That’s because I don’t weigh as much.”
Crusader might object to the extra weight of Edward’s manly build, but Eden didn’t. She never tired of watching the play of muscles in his shoulders, feeling the power in his arms when he lifted her effortlessly into the saddle each morning. She’d been used to saddling up and riding out without help from anyone. But Edward believed a gentleman should help a woman mount her horse, so she let him. The poor man was having enough trouble making the transition to Texas. No point in making it more difficult for him.
“I don’t want him to run hard the whole length of the trail,” Edward told her. “Push him for a quarter of a mile, then canter the rest of the way. When you turn him around, do the same again.”
She coaxed Crusader up to an imaginary line and brought him to a standstill. Edward wanted to practice beginning the race as often as possible. Crusader had learned to stand still while remaining alert, his ears twitching from front to back, eager for the signal to run.
Edward dropped his hand, and Crusader sprang forward at Eden’s signal.
Crusader didn’t have Black Cloud’s quickness off the starting line, but the surge of muscles beneath his gleaming chestnut coat gave Eden a sense of bottomless power. The cool morning breeze, still heavy with moisture from an overnight rain that glistened on blades of grass and dripped from the sodden leaves of gnarled and stunted oaks, brushed her flushed cheeks and whipped Crusader’s mane into a flag of flame. The thud of his hoofs on the yielding sand was like a muffled roll of thunder. Tree trunks, overhanging branches, and glimpses of the nearby stream rushed by with ever-increasing rapidity until they formed a seamless kaleidoscope of form and color. Eden didn’t want to slow Crusader to a canter after a quarter of a mile, but she respected Edward’s knowledge of how to train him to be at his best on the day of the race.
“Time to relax, fella.” Eden spoke softly to Crusader as she tugged gently on the reins she held in gloved hands. “You’ll get to do it again in a few minutes.”
He resisted only a moment before shortening his stride and allowing himself to be reined down to a fast canter. He tossed his head a couple of times and swished his tail from side to side, but these were the only signs that he objected to following her instructions.
“You’re the best,” she said as they neared the end of the trail and Crusader slowed to a trot. “Do you think you could like Black Cloud enough to father her babies?”
Crusader blew through his nostrils. Eden couldn’t tell whether that was a yes or a no.
“Think about it,” she said as she brought him to a stop and turned him until he faced back up the trail. “You could do a lot worse.”
Crusader tossed his head and faced down the trail, his gaze seemingly on the spot where Edward stood waiting for them.
“Are you trying to tell me you can’t be bothered with anything so frivolous as love when you have racing on your mind?”
The horse seemed much of the same mind as its owner. Though Eden enjoyed Edward’s kisses, she wanted more. She wanted to know what was in his mind and heart, to hear the words so she wouldn’t be forced to guess. Her feelings for him had developed into something much more than liking, but she had held back from telling him. Such reluctance was untypical of her. She was more likely to be too free with her opinions. Maybe she was holding back because she wanted him to be the first one to put it into words. Maybe she hesitated for fear he didn’t feel the same and she would end up with a broken heart. Maybe she—
The jangle of metal caused by Crusader impatiently tossing his head drew Eden’s attention from her thoughts. In the distance Edward signaled with a broad sweep of his arm. It was time to finish the workout and get on with the rest of the day. Both of them had a lot to do. She gathered the reins and leaned forward in the saddle. Just as she did, she felt something whiz by her head, followed by the sharp crack of a rifle.
Somebody had shot at her and Crusader.
Chapter Twenty
The sound of a second shot destroyed what was left of the morning quiet. Eden tumbled from the saddle and rolled off the trail onto the creek bank. Birds erupted from the branches overhead, their indignant squawks a protest against the destruction of their sylvan calm. She was relieved to see Crusader rapidly disappearing down the trail.
Hunkering down out of sight, Eden waited, motionless and silent. She had no way of knowing if the rifleman had left or was waiting for another chance. Since two shots had failed to hit such a large and easy target as Crusader, she could only conclude that the shots were meant for her. What mystified her was why anyone would want to shoot her.
Kill her!
Someone had already put Black Cloud out of action. If they were trying to win the race, why hadn’t they attacked Crusader rather than her? Edward could find another jockey, so eliminating her wouldn’t eliminate Crusader. Besides, she couldn’t imagine that anyone wanted to win the race badly enough to kill. Now nothing made sense.
Unwilling to cower in the shadows any longer, Eden raised her hat in the air to see if it would draw fire. She hadn’t heard a horse leave, but the sound would have been covered by the noise of Crusader’s mad gallop back to the ranch. When nothing happened, she rose up on her hands and knees. Still quiet. Certain the gunman had left, she got to her feet, brushing the leaves from her clothes. She had a few scratches on her legs and was certain the sharp pain in her left hip would mean she would be left with a large purple bruise. She had no idea whether this shooting was part of the attacks on the ranches or something separate, but an attempt on her life meant other members of the family could be in danger. Everybody had to be warned.
The distant sound of a galloping horse growing louder told her Edward was coming to see if she was hurt. Hopeful that the gunman had disappeared and wasn’t waiting for her to emerge from the trees, she approached the edge of the trail, using the protection of the broad trunk of an ancient bald cypress. She scanned the ridges beyond the trail but could see no one. She stepped out from behind the tree when Edward brought Crusader to a bone-jarring halt.
“Are you hurt?” Edward practically leapt from the saddle. Once satisfied she wasn’t hurt, he took her in his arms. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure,” Eden said, glad to be in the comforting circle of his arms. “Someone shot at us twice, but I don’t know whether he was shooting at me, Crusader, or just trying to scare us out of the race.”
“What civilized person would do such a thing?” Edward exclaimed.
“It’s especially the civilized person who would do something like that,” Eden explained. “A real cowhand has too much respect for a horse to try to hurt one.”
“What about hurting you?”
“No Texan would hurt a woman.” Eden could tell Edward wasn’t convinced, but she’d lived in Texas all her life and had never once felt unsafe around any man, even strangers.
“There’s nothing that can protect you from a black-hearted villain who’s determined to kill you. We need to get back to the ranch right away.”
Eden didn’t like the feeling of vulnerability Edward’s words conjured up. She’d spent her whole life feeling protected, safe, able to go wherever she wanted without fear of danger.
“I can’t put you in the saddle and take a chance on your being a target,” Edward told her as he released her from his embrace. “Walk on the side of Crusader nearest th
e creek so no one can see you.” He crossed around Crusader and started to lead the big horse back toward the stable. Normally the high-spirited animal would have tossed his head and tried to break into a run. But having run a half mile at a hard gallop, Crusader didn’t object to walking, though he still tossed his head impatiently from time to time.
“Once I feel sure you’re safe, I’ll ride over to tell your father what has happened,” Edward said to her from the other side of the horse.
“Don’t make it any more than it was,” Eden implored, “a possible attempt to scare you into withdrawing Crusader from the race.”
“I’m not sure that’s all there is to it,” Edward said. “You can’t forget the attacks on the other ranches.”
“I don’t think they’re connected,” she insisted. “The shooter is probably the same person who nicked Black Cloud’s tendon.”
“No matter who the shooter was or why he did it,” Edward told her, “I’m taking you back to the ranch and you’re staying inside until your father decides what to do.”
Eden kicked at the loose sand underfoot in frustration. Once her father heard what had happened, he wouldn’t be satisfied until she was under lock and key. “I’m not going to be shut up like a prisoner.”
“We’ll let your father decide what to do,” Edward said. “He knows a lot more about Texas than either one of us.”
Eden knew her father was likely to lock her in her bedroom and order every able-bodied man to stay in the saddle around the clock, rifles at the ready. She didn’t know how she was going to accomplish it, but she was determined to keep that from happening.
“I won’t be locked up.”
Eden faced her father, an unbecoming flush in her cheeks and a tightness about her mouth. Edward wasn’t surprised she wanted to take part in discovering who had shot at her. She hadn’t hesitated to face down her parents as well as a couple of brothers who used to be well-known gunfighters. Edward found it difficult to believe two such soft-spoken men as Chet and Luke could have been hired gunmen. The contradictions of the West continued to baffle him.
“How can we protect you if you insist upon making yourself a target?”
“All the protection I need is for people to know that Luke is back,” Eden reasoned. “Let him ride out with me a couple of times and nobody will come near the ranch.”
“It’s been a long time since I used a gun in a fight,” Luke reminded Eden.
“It’s only been two years. Nobody’s memory is that short.”
Edward wondered if gunfights were anything like duels, which had been outlawed in England for more than a hundred years.
“You’ve got to be more careful,” Eden’s mother said. “You could be putting others in danger as well.”
“Would you have let Dad lock you up when the rustlers tried to steal his herd?” Eden demanded of her mother.
“You know I wouldn’t,” Isabelle responded with a guilty laugh. “I wouldn’t have spoken to him for a month if he’d tried.”
“Then you know how I feel,” Eden replied. “I won’t let some coward who doesn’t have the courage to show his face or state his case make me hide like a scared little girl.”
“I’m not asking you to hide,” Jake said to his daughter, “just take reasonable precautions.”
“Which in your mind means not going out of the house.”
This family confrontation fascinated Edward. Nothing like it would have happened in England. A daughter would never have spoken to her father as Eden had. She would have silently acquiesced to any decision he made. Had she been foolish enough to object, she would have been bundled off to some remote family estate until she learned to mend her ways. Charlotte would never have publically taken issue with the viscount no matter how much she disagreed with him. And the brothers would have taken their lead from their father.
These Americans operated quite differently. Jake was clearly the head of the Maxwell clan, but he was no despotic ruler and his decisions didn’t go unchallenged. What Edward found so hard to believe was the way they worked out a group decision that everyone agreed to follow even though they might disagree with it. He couldn’t conceive of the viscount letting any member of the family take an action he disagreed with, and then supporting them in it.
“So what do you propose to do?” Jake asked Eden.
“I can’t stop training Crusader for the race. If that’s what the attack is about, then I want to do everything I can to make sure he wins. I’ll leave it up to you and the boys to decide the best way to do that.”
Though it could mean the end of his dream, Edward couldn’t endanger a whole family just so he could win a race. There would be other races, other chances to win the money he needed to start life over again on his own terms. “I’m going to withdraw Crusader from the race,” he said. “There’ll be no need for Eden to train him or Luke and Chet to put themselves in danger.” He had expected some polite objections before they accepted the easy answer. What he hadn’t expected was vociferous objections from everyone present.
“But it would solve the whole problem,” he said when he finally managed to get someone to listen to him.
“You don’t know that,” Eden said. “This could be about Dad, about the family, or about me. We don’t know what it’s about.”
“Withdrawing Crusader would eliminate one possibility,” Edward insisted.
“This is a Maxwell problem,” Jake said, “not your respon- sibility, so I won’t let you withdraw Crusader.” He glanced at his daughter and smiled. “Eden says he’s faster than the mare. Since I bred Black Cloud, I’ll take it as a personal affront if you let some inferior horse win a race she would have won.”
Edward tried to make further objections, but his heart wasn’t in it. There would be other races, but none with this much purse money. He could keep working for Zeke and Hawk as a regular cowhand and wait until next year, but his feelings for Eden wouldn’t allow him to wait that long. Just as he knew he couldn’t wait a whole year before telling her how he felt about her, he knew he couldn’t say a word as long as he was penniless. He had too much pride to declare himself to Eden when his entire inheritance consisted of one unproven Thoroughbred.
“Okay, but only if we can work out a plan that insures Eden’s safety. I could never forgive myself if she got hurt because of me.”
“If she gets hurt, it’ll be because of that stubborn streak she inherited from her mother,” Jake said.
“Combined with the one she got from you,” Isabelle added.
“Is it any wonder she’s impossible?” Chet said to Edward.
“Don’t try to tell me either you or Luke ever backed away from danger,” Eden challenged her brothers. “I’m just following your example.”
“God help us,” Luke moaned.
“Stop wasting time and come up with a plan,” Isabelle said.
“There’s no need for a plan that will only expose Eden to danger,” Edward said. “I can ride Crusader for his workouts.”
“You weigh close to a hundred pounds more than I do,” Eden pointed out. “He needs to be trained for speed, not carrying weight.”
Once that option was disposed of—Eden didn’t bother to listen to his rationale—there weren’t a lot of variables to consider. Crusader could only be trained in the open, and the only suitable surface available was the training track at Zeke and Hawk’s ranch.
“At least I can warm Crusader up and cool him down after the workout,” Edward said, determined Eden wouldn’t overrule him this time. “That would cut the time she’s vulnerable down to less than half an hour. Fifteen minutes most days.”
As expected, Eden objected, but she was forced to give in when everyone sided with Edward. She didn’t take it well, but when her father pointed out that putting herself in needless danger also endangered the brothers who were trying to protect her, she begged Luke and Chet not to think she didn’t love them.
Chet gave her a hug. “We know you do, but like everybody else
in this family, you hate it when you don’t get your way.”
“So it’s decided Chet and I will patrol the hillside along the trail until the workout is finished,” Luke said. “After that we’ll do anything we think might yield some clue as to what’s going on.”
“Do what you think is best,” Jake said. “You’re better at this than I am.”
“Are you sure he’s not coming down with something?” Chet asked Isabelle, a big grin on his handsome face. “I’ve never heard him admit anybody could do anything better than he could.”
“He’s so worried about Eden, he’s not himself,” Isabelle said. “After this is over, he’ll have forgotten he ever said it.”
Everyone laughed, but Edward could feel the undercurrent of tension that permeated the room. Nobody had liked the attacks when they were limited to cut fences, poisoned cattle, or a burned barn, but all those things could be replaced. The attack on Eden had changed the complexion of the problem. Someone was out for revenge. What else could have prompted an attempted murder?
“I don’t know what I could have done to make anyone so mad they’d go after Eden,” Jake said.
“I don’t know, either,” Isabelle said. “You’ve led a virtually blameless life since you adopted the boys.” She ignored Jake’s groan. “But anyone harms so much as a hair on the heads of my children or grandchildren, you’d damned well better shoot them in the gut. I want them to suffer as much as possible before they die.”
Edward had never known anyone as loving as Isabelle, but there was a steely look in her eyes that warned him she could be a dangerous and implacable enemy. Her shoulders were squared, her spine straight, her body leaning forward from the waist. Energy and determination virtually sparked the air around her. Jake and the boys might be the brawn that had built the Maxwell empire, maybe even the brains, but it was clear Isabelle’s was the heart that bound this wildly disparate collection of humanity into a single unit that wouldn’t stop to count the cost before coming to the defense of any member who was threatened. The viscount thought marrying for money was the way to protect a family, but money could never have forged such strong bonds, such a sense of duty or self-sacrifice. The Maxwells had no family tradition to uphold, no social position to maintain, no reputation to keep burnished. They had come together by chance, drifted away in search of their individual destinies, come back out of love.
Texas Loving (The Cowboys) Page 23