Special Delivery Baby

by Sherri Shackelford

  “That’s not fair and you know it. He stayed working because the trail was his life.”

  “Think about it, Tom.” James cast her a sidelong glance. “Your pa was always working and saving for your future. You weren’t getting married or anything. And he knew once he was gone, you’d never be able to protect yourself. So he worked and he saved. Worked himself right into the grave.”

  His words picked at her conscience like buzzards on a carcass. She shook her head. No—James was lashing out to hide his grief. Her pa hadn’t worked himself to death because of her. He’d always been a frugal man. They’d never needed much between the two of them.

  “You’re being hateful because of your guilt,” she said. “Taking out your anger on me isn’t going to bring him back. Near broke his heart when you left, and you know it.”

  James had all the charm in the world when a pretty face was nearby, but none for her. She wasn’t a woman as far as he was concerned. She was one of the boys. She wasn’t worthy of his fawning attention. That suited her fine. His fake charm was wasted on her. His words were as shallow as a creek bed in a drought.

  “Too bad.” James ducked his head. “Maybe your pa should have had a stronger heart.”

  “How can you say that?” She hitched in a breath. His indifference cut her to the quick. “After everything he did for you?”

  She didn’t know James anymore. He wasn’t the boy she’d grown up with, the boy she’d considered family. This was a stranger. A hateful, bitter stranger.

  “I’m not arguing with you anymore, Tom.” He turned away. “I said all I got to say.”

  “This isn’t who you are, James.” She felt as though her whole world was tipping upside down. First she’d lost her pa, now she was losing James. “Why are you acting like this?”

  He stumbled back from the bar and glared at her. “Why is everyone trying to tie me down? To change me? This is exactly who I am. I do what I want when I want. I’m not beholden to anyone. I stayed on with your pa’s outfit because it suited me. Nothing more.” Shrugging his shoulders, he mumbled, “Doesn’t matter anyway, now. Without your pa, the Stone outfit is finished.”

  “At least he didn’t live to see this.” She fisted her hands against her sides. “I’m glad he’s not here to see what you’ve become.”

  “Take my advice, Tom. Find a job in town. Your days on the trail are over. Without your pa, you’ll never be safe.”

  “Fine talk coming from you.” Though angry, she grasped for one last shred of hope. “There’s no reason you and I can’t carry on the Stone name. We can build on that name and create our own reputation.”

  “I’m not a Stone, Tom. And I’m sure not riding trail with a girl.”

  “Oh, so I’m a girl now?”

  “Let it go, Tom.”

  She blinked rapidly before recalling the reason she’d come in the first place. “You were supposed to be watching the corral gate at the rodeo. Someone let a bull loose during my show. Speared the animal. Almost killed me. You know anything about that?”

  Guilt flicked quickly over his face, replaced just as quickly with that same indifference. “That’s not my fault. I had some, uh, someone I had to meet. Stop pestering me. I wasn’t even there.”

  One of the men at the bar winked at her and let out a low whistle, then sidled closer. “Your fellow giving you trouble, pretty lady?” Her rotund admirer was unkempt with breath like kerosene. “Why don’t you come on over here? I’ll treat you real nice.”

  “I’d rather swim in a latrine.”

  James caught her around the arm and dragged her toward the batwing doors. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

  “Neither should you.”

  Once outside, she shook off his hold. “Theo saw you near the gate before the accident. Were you trying to get revenge on me or something? Are you still mad about what happened back in Harper?”

  Hot color suffused his face. “You don’t really think I had anything to do with what happened at the show?”

  Orphaned early in the war, James had joined the Confederate Army at fifteen seeking revenge. His commanding officer had quickly discovered his deception. By the time James was old enough to serve, peace had been declared. He was a man with something to prove and no way to prove it.

  Tomasina’s mouth twisted. “You were awful mad when you left.”

  “You tell me your pa died. Then you accuse me of sabotaging the show. You have no right, Tom. No right to accuse me of something like that.”

  His denial only fueled her outrage. “But you were there. Did you see anything?”

  “I didn’t see anything. I told you before. I left to meet someone.” James narrowed his gaze. “Maybe someone else has it out for you. Did you ever think of that?”

  Her stomach clenched. Will had come to the same conclusion. “I don’t have any enemies. Why would someone come after me?”

  “You tell me. You’re not exactly the easiest person to get along with, you know. Your pa let you give orders, but no one else will. Now that your pa is gone, you’d best keep your pistol cocked and at the ready.” His voice softened. “I’m telling you this as a friend.”

  “Oh, so you’re my friend now? You sure weren’t treating me like a friend a few minutes ago.”

  “That’s because you never pay me any mind. Listen this once.”

  The sharp finality of his words settled around her. She pressed her hands against her chest, halting the flow of emotions. She’d never cared much one way or the other what people thought of her. Why did their opinions matter? She liked herself well enough.

  Once or twice she’d tested James’s flattering style during a negotiation, but the role had never sat well with her.

  Will Canfield certainly found her difficult. How many others had thought the same? She’d goaded Will because she wanted her way. She’d dismissed his objections to the rodeo without considering his concerns, and his fears had come to pass. Theo had warned her that Will was looking for her. Unsure how to atone for her mistake, she’d been staying clear of him instead.

  “You’re like a brother to me, James.” She spoke quietly. “I don’t want bad blood between us.”

  Her future had always seemed vast and never ending, the possibilities infinite. Except her world wasn’t the mountains and the prairies and herding thousands of cattle to market. Her future consisted of the people around her, and that reality was rapidly shrinking.

  James scuffed at the ground. “There’s no bad blood, but things have changed. We’re not kids anymore, Tom. With your pa gone—” His voice broke. “With your pa gone, it’s time for you to act like a girl for once.”

  Her throat constricted. He was angry. He was grieving. Even if he didn’t show his pain, he was hurting. But so was she. Her heart was breaking, as well. When had anyone ever spared her feelings?

  The events of the past weeks caught up with her, and pain throbbed behind her eyes. “Don’t you dare start in on me. I can take care of myself.”

  “You’ll have to, won’t you?”

  “Fine words coming from you. You take care of yourself, as well. It’s what you’re good at.”

  Everything she’d thought about herself crumbled. Had she ever had the respect of the men she rode with, or had they only tolerated her in deference to her pa? Without him, where did she belong? Even James, the one person she’d thought was loyal to her, had turned his back on her.

  Unable to face the pity in his resigned expression, she pivoted on her heel.

  James reached for her. “Tom, wait.”

  Shoving him away, she glared. “You think of anything you may have seen at the rodeo, tell the sheriff. If you can tear yourself away from the saloon long enough, that is. You and I got nothing to say to each other.” She poked his chest with a finger. “Being a jerk doesn’t make you more of
a man. Just makes you more of a jerk.”

  She stomped off without waiting for an answer. Once she rounded the corner, she searched for a darkened corner. Pressing one hand against the side of the building, she heaved a sob. She’d lost her pa already. Now she’d lost James.

  There was no reason for her to take his hurtful words to her heart. Except that doubt had already wormed its way into her soul. Pa’s death had peeled back the covering on her life, and she didn’t like what she saw hidden beneath the surface.

  How quickly her life had changed. Her pa was gone, James was gone, and she wasn’t any closer to discovering who’d sabotaged her show. Her knees weakened, and she braced her back against the wall, sank down and hung her head.

  She thought of how Will was caring for Ava, his unabashed affection for the baby, and her chest grew so tight it hurt. Now that her father was gone, she didn’t suppose she’d ever feel that sort of love again.

  She’d always considered herself a solitary person, and yet this was the first time she’d ever been truly alone.

  She pushed off from the wall and stood. Feeling sorry for herself had never solved a problem.

  When she arrived back at the drover’s camp, she discovered Will had left a note for her with one of the fellows. He wanted to speak with her.

  She crumpled the message and tossed it in an open fire. Until she figured out who had sabotaged her show, she was steering clear of Will Canfield.

  Chapter Six

  Two days later, with Ava under the care of the reverend’s daughter, Will searched through the tents for Tomasina. She hadn’t replied to any of his messages. Given the ragtag assortment of cowboys, he wasn’t even sure if she’d gotten them. The last two times he’d visited the drover’s encampment, he’d been told he’d just missed her. This time he wasn’t leaving until they’d spoken.

  He’d been harsh with her because he’d been embarrassed by his own weakness. She’d been just as upset over the accident as everyone else. And what had he done? He’d shouted at her. He’d accused her of having enemies when the enemies were his own. She’d nearly been killed because of him.

  Will sighed. He owed her an apology, but that wasn’t the only the reason he’d sought her out. Their encounters had left him with an insatiable need to discover more about her. How had she managed this long as a female in a profession dominated by men? Who was watching out for her? The more he thought about her situation, the more he feared for her safety.

  Never a demonstrative man, in the quiet of the evening he’d prayed for her safety.

  The drovers had set up their own city of tents and open fires. After three months or more on the trail, the cowboys often took the opportunity to rest before hooking up with another outfit. Their seasons followed much the same pattern. They’d drive the cattle to winter pastures before the first snowfall and start all over the following spring.

  For now, whiskey flowed freely and tobacco smoke fogged the air. Occasionally rival groups broke into fisticuffs. Following a grueling trail ride, the men played as hard as they worked. Will encouraged the impromptu tent city as long as the drovers kept their roughhousing away from town and spent their wages in the local stores.

  The idea of Tomasina living this way sent his stomach lurching. She was tough, but she was no match for these men. She was only a slip of a thing. Despite her bluster, she was too young, too innocent, for this life.

  He paused in front of a grizzled old-timer perched on a leather sling chair. The man was whittling a hunk of wood. The sun had already sunk low on the horizon, and Will squinted through the smoke from the man’s campfire.

  The old-timer glanced up. “What can I do you for, young man?”

  “Looking for the Stone outfit.”

  According to Daniel, Tomasina rode with her father. Since marrying, Daniel hadn’t been as involved in the stockyards operations, and he hadn’t seen Mr. Stone this time around.

  “Folks around here call me Domino.” The old timer fisted one gnarled hand on his knee. “Ain’t much left of the Stone outfit these days.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Will frowned at the gent’s cryptic words. “They brought in a herd last week.”

  “Tom’s pa died on the trail a month or two back. James Johnson used to ride with the Stones, but he took up with another outfit this last spring. Theo Pierce’s, if I recall correctly.”

  “I know James. He’s a good kid.”

  The young drover had volunteered for sentry duty after the trouble with the Murdoch Gang. He was a good sentry, for the most part. Will had seen him flirting with one of the women from the bride train. Pippa Neely. She’d appeared flattered but nothing more.

  “The only one left is Tomasina.” Domino resumed his whittling. “The rest of the boys finished the drive out of loyalty to Stone, but ain’t none of those men gonna take direction from a pretty girl. All of the hands signed on with other outfits. Tom is on her own these days.” The old-timer clicked his tongue. “Bad business, if you ask me. Change is coming. This country ain’t fit for a woman alone.”

  Will’s unease increased tenfold. The more he learned, the less he liked what he was hearing. “Then she has no other family now that her father is gone?”

  “Nope. It was just the two of them. Buried her pa on the trail, they did. Paid my respects when we passed by. There wasn’t anyone like Old Man Stone. You could have driven nails with that man’s hard head. He was tough but fair. He’d earned his respect around here.”

  “What about Tom? Has she earned her respect?”

  “With some folks, sure,” Domino answered. “But nothing is ever the same from season to season. Men come and they go. Since the war ended, the soldiers have flooded West. Without a uniform, it’s harder to tell which side folks are on these days.”

  “The country has been united. We’re all on the same side.”

  “Not when it comes to land and money.”

  An edge in the man’s voice gave Will pause. “How do you mean?”

  “These days a guy will slit your throat for water rights. It ain’t like before. Every war has winners and losers. Some men become heroes and some men are left desperate.”

  Though Will figured the old-timer could talk for hours, he was impatient to finish his business and return to the hotel. The problem of Tomasina had grown even more complicated.

  “You know where Tomasina is camped?” he asked.

  “Why are you looking for her, anyway?” Domino sat straighter, his watery blue eyes narrowed. “Don’t go messing with Tom. Some of the other fellows and I, we keep a watch out for her as best we can. We don’t want any trouble.”

  “I have business with her. That’s all.”

  The man took his measure and nodded. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

  “Good.”

  At least one person around here had the sense to realize the danger. Will picked his way through the tents and campfires. Tomasina had recently lost her father. She was alone. She was in mourning.

  He’d lost his own father near the beginning of the war. He’d buried his sorrow on the battlefield and forged ahead. Much to his shock, after the war his loss had come rushing back, as though his grief had simply remained dormant until he’d acknowledged the pain.

  What had Tomasina been feeling these past few weeks? She’d given no indication that she’d suffered a loss, and yet the old-timer’s words spoke of an affection between father and daughter. Sooner or later she’d have to let down her guard, as well.

  A grief buried never stayed dormant. There was always a reckoning.

  When he reached the edge of the tents, a commotion snagged his attention. Two drovers wrestled in the dirt. A small knot of men had formed around them, jeering and shouting encouragement. Always up for a good brawl, more tents emptied, and Will lost sight of the scrapping men
among the sea of onlookers. He shrugged and moved on. The pair was evenly matched, and he rarely interfered with the drovers when they settled their own disputes. It didn’t look like much of a fight anyway.

  With most of the cowboys occupied, Will scrutinized the tents, searching for any sign of Tomasina. The dwellings were plain canvas, giving no clue as to the occupant. A pair of men snagged his attention. Their movements were quick and furtive. His instincts flared.

  These men were clearly using the distraction of the fight as camouflage for their actions. Ducking out of sight, Will pursued the furtive men from a safe distance until the two reached the edge of the tent city. Shouts and cheers covered any noise they made. One of the men gestured to the other and pointed at a tent. The second man nodded.

  The first man produced a knife and sliced through the canvas. Will lunged. A feminine voice screamed. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Tomasina.

  Colliding with the first man, he drove the attacker to the ground. A flash of blade glinted in the moonlight, and he dodged left. Thwarted from his target, the man flipped awkwardly. His blade plunged into the ground near Will’s side.

  The attacker ducked back and sprang to his feet. Groping for his walking stick, Will swung, catching the man around the ankles. The attacker yelped and stumbled backward. With the man caught off balance, Will regained his footing.

  Tomasina erupted from the tent and barreled headlong into the arms of the second man. The outlaw’s eyes widened in surprise, and he snatched her upper arm.

  “I got ’er!” the man hollered. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Tomasina cracked the man across the jaw with her fisted hand. He pitched sideways. Lowering her head, she rammed his chest, sending him flying. The outlaw collapsed on his backside, his face contorted in fury. A bolt of pure terror shot through Will. If the enraged man got in a solid blow, he’d kill her for certain.