An Uncommon Protector

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An Uncommon Protector Page 13

by Shelley Shepard Gray


  After going out to the barn to care for the animals, she returned to the kitchen, poured a glass of cool cider, and worked on mending. As she threaded her needle and repaired the torn hem of a dress, she listened for Thomas to descend the stairs.

  But as another hour passed, she realized he had retired for the night.

  She didn’t blame him.

  And she was used to being alone. She’d spent most of her days and nights after her mother remarried alone. Even when Jerome and Bess were living with her, they didn’t spend time together. She should have been used to her own company. She’d thought she was.

  But even after just a couple of days, Thomas Baker had altered everything. She’d begun to look forward to his company, even if so far it had been filled with more worry and stress than anything else.

  After putting away her mending, she sat on her sofa in the sitting room and tried to come to terms with all that had transpired since she’d stood at the window to watch Thomas work with the other convicts. She’d freed him, Jerome and Bess had left, and a calf had died. Then they’d returned to town together. She’d become part of a team. Half of a partnership that was built out of necessity but seemed on the verge of turning into something else too.

  She didn’t know how to stop the way she was starting to feel about Thomas. Didn’t know if she was capable of stopping.

  And if she didn’t?

  Well, the consequences would alter her life, and that was almost too much to take in. Maybe far too much to take in.

  Laurel woke on the sofa with a start the next morning when she heard Thomas open and shut the front door. Embarrassed that he’d seen her asleep, she ran upstairs, changed her dress, and washed her face. Next she went to the kitchen, made coffee and flapjacks, and waited for Thomas to return to the house.

  When he did, he was pleasant yet distant.

  “I fed the animals and milked Bonnet,” he said as he set her egg basket next to her. “I even gathered these. Everything looks to be in good order.”

  “Thank you.” Pointing to the serving plate next to her range, she said, “I made flapjacks.”

  “These look real good.” He grabbed a plate and placed three on it.

  “Go ahead and eat. I’ll fry you a couple of eggs too.”

  “Thank you.”

  She washed two eggs, then cracked them into a hot pan, all while casting furtive looks his way. He was eating methodically, his attention solely focused on his flapjacks.

  When she placed the eggs on his plate, he thanked her again but said nothing more.

  Her stomach began to feel like it was in knots. “Would you like anything else to eat?”

  “No, Miss Tracey. This is more than enough.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “You always give me more food than I got in a day in jail, miss. It’s plenty for me.”

  “Ah.” Placing one flapjack on her plate, she sat down and nibbled a bit of it. It tasted like sawdust.

  Pushing it away, she said, “Is your back hurting you this morning?”

  “My back is mending,” he said quickly. “You won’t need to bathe it again.”

  Though she realized he was trying to ease her worries, she still felt a little hurt. “I didn’t mind helping you.”

  Thomas set down his fork. “I’m here to work for you. Not be tended to.”

  Feeling like there was nothing she could say to erase the unease that was festering between them, she got up again and washed her dish.

  A couple of minutes later, Thomas set his dish on the counter next to her. “Thank you for breakfast. I’m going to go back out to the barn now. I have something I’d like to do before we head out on our ride.”

  “All right, Sergeant.”

  When she heard the kitchen door close, she felt more alone than ever. Not for the first time, she wished she’d been blessed with sisters or cousins. An aunt. Some woman who was smarter than she was in the ways of the world, who would freely give advice and offer suggestions. Like what to do about Thomas.

  But what would this mystery woman say or counsel her to do? Laurel was fairly sure there was no correct protocol to follow when it came to developing a relationship with a scarred and secretive former prisoner.

  Tired of waiting and stewing, she picked up her broom, went out to the front porch, and pretended to sweep off some of the debris and dust that had gathered there overnight. It was a rather silly task, and a poor use of her time. She had far too many other things to do besides pretending to sweep while actually spying on her worker.

  But she couldn’t help herself.

  Soon she realized Thomas was cleaning out the barn. Velvet was tethered to a hitching post and Bonnet was bawling mournfully in one of the holding pens her father had built a year or two before the war. Scattered in front of the structure were saddles and blankets, jars and buckets, and a hundred other tools and implements men had stored in its depths over the years.

  She went out there and offered to help him, but he brushed off her offer like it was a painful thing.

  Now she was back on the porch, reduced to spying on him again.

  She was just thinking about taking him some water when she noticed two riders approaching.

  Resting a hand on her forehead, she tried to see who it was, but all she could see was an appaloosa and a paint. Both horses were stepping lively. The faces of the men astride them were hidden by dark Stetsons.

  Glad she was at least wearing a clean calico, she stood motionless and watched the riders come closer.

  Seconds later, Thomas exited the barn and walked to her side. “Who’s here?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  He nodded, his expression intent as he watched the riders’ progress. Minutes later, he sighed. “One of the men is Sheriff Jackson.”

  “Maybe he has some news about the calf.”

  “I hope so. I hope it’s that and not the twenty-five other real good reasons he has to be here.”

  Realizing Thomas was referencing the amount of money she’d paid for him to be set free, Laurel looked at him dubiously. “The transaction has already taken place, and Will knows I’m happy with how things have turned out. Everyone should.” Herself, for one.

  Thomas snorted. “People don’t care about feelings, Miss Laurel. They’re going to revel in the fact that you made a mistake.”

  “But I didn’t.”

  “Even if you think you didn’t, they won’t care. Their minds were made up about me the moment they saw me in prison rags.”

  “They might have been wary of you, but they’ll change their minds.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “They will. After all, lots of people saw how helpful you were yesterday when you helped me take the calf to town.”

  “For some people, what they saw will mean nothing. They’ll only care about what I am.”

  She wasn’t sure what more she could say to Thomas to ease his mind—or their relationship. Since it was doubtful that he was going to be of a mind to listen to anything she said, Laurel decided to focus on the approaching visitors. Now that they were fairly close, she recognized the man by Sheriff Jackson’s side. “The other man is Landon Marshall.”

  “Your neighbor and friend, right?”

  She nodded. Remembering the way Landon had spoken to her in town, and how vaguely she had described her relationship with him to Thomas, she said, “We’ve, uh, recently drifted apart.”

  Thomas studied her. “Usually a person is a friend or he isn’t,” he drawled.

  “Our relationship isn’t that easy to define.” Kind of like another relationship she was in.

  “Huh.”

  She thought that sentiment said it all. The man’s appearance was certainly unexpected. After she’d refused his suit, he had stopped visiting her. Then, of course, there was what had happened in town. He hadn’t liked her standing up to him at all.

  When they were a mere hundred or so yards away, Sheriff Jackson raised a hand.

  She
raised a hand in return, taking note of their solemn expressions.

  Thomas must have taken notice of their serious looks, too, because his expression turned less combative and far more protective. He stepped a bit in front of her, almost like he was attempting to shield her from whatever was about to take place.

  Though she knew she probably shouldn’t, she allowed herself to relax. Maybe the tension between them was about to ease.

  When the men drew their horses to a stop and dismounted, Laurel moved around Thomas to greet them. “Hello, Sheriff Jackson, Landon.”

  “Good day, Laurel. Baker,” Sheriff Jackson said.

  “Miss Tracey,” Landon said, tipping his hat as his gaze strayed toward Thomas, who was looming behind her. She didn’t need to see him to know he was staring at Landon.

  She turned awkwardly and tried to smile at each of them. “Landon, this is Sergeant Thomas Baker. My new hand.”

  “I’ve been concerned about you. I hope you are faring all right.” Landon didn’t so much as even glance in Thomas’s direction.

  Thomas stiffened by her side but didn’t say anything.

  Eager to get to the point of their visit and then send them on their way, Laurel said, “Did you discover what happened to the calf, Will?”

  The sheriff shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Doc promised to look at the little thing, but he hasn’t had a chance yet. It might have simply died of natural causes.”

  “And it decided to die while on her doorstep?” Thomas asked, doubt thick in his voice. “I find that hard to believe. Someone is attempting to frighten Miss Tracey.”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” Landon said. “After all, a good Samaritan could have brought it over.”

  Thomas blinked. “Really? Like who? You?”

  “Of course it wasn’t me. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t another of Laurel’s friends.” Looking at him derisively, Landon added, “Here in Sweetwater, we look out for each other. We’re a close-knit community made up of good people. You’re probably not familiar with such relationships.”

  Thomas lifted his chin. “Even if a friend did leave the calf, I’m not real fond of the idea of someone dropping off dead animals on Miss Tracey’s doorstep in the middle of the night, Marshall.”

  “You almost sound as if you are insinuating that I brought her the animal.”

  “I’m guessing you had as much opportunity as anyone.”

  “I wouldn’t have done such a thing. I want the future of this ranch to be as profitable as anyone, and killing any of its cattle would hardly make sense.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he added, “I’m also not fond of convicts living in such close proximity to my neighbor.”

  “Who would you rather see here? You?”

  “Of course me. At least I would not be attempting to take advantage of her.”

  “And how would I be doing that?”

  “Don’t act so innocent,” Landon drawled, disdain lacing his tone. “You probably don’t know the first thing about being around decent women. But if you harm one hair on her head, you will definitely regret it.”

  Thomas stepped forward. “Are you threatening me?”

  Before Landon could reply, Laurel raised her hands. “Gentlemen, please stop! I can speak for myself.”

  “You shouldn’t have to, Laurel,” Landon said. “You need a real man to speak for you.”

  Realizing that Thomas was barely holding on to his temper, Laurel ignored Landon and turned to the sheriff, who had been noticeably silent. “Thank you for coming out all this way to check on me. It was real kind of you to go to so much trouble.”

  Sheriff Jackson’s expression turned pensive. “I hate to tell you this, but we didn’t ride over here to check on you or talk about the dead calf.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he said, “You see, something else has come up.”

  Before she even realized she was doing it, she stepped closer to Thomas. “What’s happened now?” Thinking quickly, she asked, “Does it have to do with Sergeant Baker’s freedom?”

  “No. That’s done, much to your stepsiblings’ dismay, I should add.” Smiling a bit wryly, he said, “They were in quite a state when old Alan Corntree picked them up in his wagon two days ago.”

  She almost grinned back at him. Mr. Corntree was a peddler who drove a donkey cart around the area in the summer. She doubted Bess or Jerome had ever deigned to give that man a second look, much less speak to him. And now they had been reduced to accepting a ride in his wagon. She had a feeling that set their high horses back a notch or two.

  “Now that you’ve had time to think about it some more, Sheriff, do you think there’s any chance one of them could have harmed that calf?” Thomas asked. “They’ve been after Laurel to sell. I’m not sure how they would have managed it, but maybe they resorted to trying to scare her into it.”

  Sheriff Jackson’s expression hardened. “Their involvement is doubtful, but I haven’t ruled it out yet. They have rooms at a boardinghouse, and I mean to keep my eye on them.” He cleared his throat. “But we came to talk to you about something else that happened. Last night.”

  “Yes?” Laurel asked.

  “One of my outlying storage buildings was ransacked,” Landon said. “It was completely cleaned out.”

  Sheriff Jackson added, “Several items of note were taken. Some extra equipment, grain, and a trunk with some ammunition in it.”

  Thomas raised his eyebrows. “You stored ammunition in an outlying building?”

  “I had my reasons for keeping it there,” Landon said.

  “Which were?” Thomas asked as he stepped closer to Landon.

  Landon glared. “The point is that the ammunition is now gone.”

  “We suspect it might have been the squatters you’ve been worried about who’ve been coming onto your property from time to time,” Sheriff Jackson interjected smoothly. “Any chance you saw them yesterday, Laurel?”

  “No, Sheriff. I haven’t seen anyone for days.”

  “I rode much of the ranch yesterday,” Thomas said. “I found evidence of someone being in the north pasture, but nothing else.”

  “Interesting that this theft happened after you arrived,” Landon said.

  “What is your point?”

  “I don’t have a point. I’m merely making an observation.”

  Thomas looked at the sheriff. “Did you come out here to accuse me of raiding this man’s shed?”

  “Not at all,” Sheriff Jackson said. “We just wanted to let you know what happened so you could keep your eyes open.”

  “I’ll do that. If I see something amiss, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

  Landon coughed. “I can’t see how we can start relying on a man like you.”

  “Like me?”

  “Don’t pretend to act so surprised. You must have known your reputation would be in tatters after you went and got yourself arrested.”

  “I didn’t go and get myself anything.”

  Sheriff Jackson sighed. “Gentlemen, this is beyond enough.”

  Landon stepped closer to Laurel. “This is exactly the kind of thing I was worried about when we talked in town. You are at far too many people’s mercies, living alone like this. You need someone looking after you. You’re just a woman, you know.”

  “Landon—”

  He smiled as he cupped her cheek. “You know I’m right.”

  “I have help now.”

  “You wouldn’t have needed to hire a convict if you’d simply let me help you in the first place,” he murmured. “Let me help you, honey.”

  She felt the hard stare of Thomas’s appraising eyes on them as she stepped back from Landon’s touch.

  “Watch yourself, Mr. Marshall,” Thomas growled.

  But Landon ignored Thomas’s warning as if he weren’t there. He ran his fingers down her arm. “Are you afraid of me? Don’t be afraid. You know I don’t want to do anything besides make you happy.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.” However, though s
he wasn’t afraid, she wasn’t completely sure her happiness was the main thing on his mind. Stepping a little farther out of his reach, she eyed him carefully. “We’ve known each other for a good long while, Landon. Let’s keep things the way they are.”

  “I’d love to do that. And since we’re still such good friends, let me have you over one night soon. Eva will make us supper.”

  “Thank you for the invitation. Maybe I’ll take you up on it one day soon.”

  “How about tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “I’ll come fetch you, say, around five?”

  Before she could accept, Thomas interrupted. “There’s no need to pick her up. I’ll drive her wherever she needs to go.”

  They all three looked at him in surprise.

  “I don’t want to burden you, Sergeant,” she protested. Plus, though it made no sense, she felt a little apprehensive about involving him in her invitation.

  He shook his head slowly as his gaze warmed. “Now, Miss Laurel, don’t you be forgetting what we talked about,” he drawled, his voice suddenly sounding a bit like honey. “I’m your hired hand. You’re supposed to burden me.”

  “I don’t believe driving me around is what either of us intended for you to be doing when I hired you.”

  “That don’t matter. I’d be happy to drive you wherever you need to go. Always.”

  His offer was so sweetly worded, she couldn’t resist smiling.

  However, Landon didn’t look all that enchanted by the idea. “There is no need for you to drive Laurel anywhere. I’ll fetch her tomorrow evening.”

  Before Laurel could comment, Thomas spoke again. “No, sir. With squatters and so forth creating disturbances, I’d feel better if I was looking out for Miss Tracey as much as possible.”

  Before either Laurel or Landon could respond, Sheriff Jackson clapped his hands. “Well, that’s settled. Turns out this little visit has been productive in more ways than one,” he said brightly. “We got out our news and Mr. Marshall got his wish.” He tipped his hat with a smirk. “We’ll be on our way. We’ve got two more ranches to visit. And, Laurel, when I hear something about your calf, I’ll let you know.”

  “Thank you, Will.”

  Landon didn’t look nearly as pleased but tipped his hat as well. “Until tomorrow, then.”

 

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