Under a Desert Sky

by DiAnn Mills

  “That’s ’cause you’re older,” Tahoma said.

  “I hope it’s the last time.” He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. “I left any good sense behind when I rode out to see who was hiding behind those cottonwoods. I knew to call for you, but instead I decided to play the hero.”

  Tahoma would have circled behind the trees, but that also would have given the shooter time to fire. Chances were he’d have done the same as Whitman. “Had my fill of people getting shot around here. Time this all ended.”

  He still hadn’t given up the idea of one of the ranch hands being involved. But who?

  Long after the Monarchs decided to spend the night in one of the guest cabins and I received word about Mr. Whitman resting comfortably, I realized how badly I needed to see Tahoma.

  I loved the man.

  He risked his life for me every hour of the day.

  And I knew deep in my spirit that the shooter had been after me. The Monarchs had lived here for two years with no problems. I was the target. For certain I needed to leave here before anyone else was hurt. Selfishness had clouded my thinking since I’d set foot on Ghost Ranch.

  I ventured out in the dark to find Tahoma—and tell him good-bye. Rex sat in the rocking chair on my porch, smoking a pipe.

  “Where are you going, Miss Eva?” he said.

  “I have to find someone.”

  He stood. “Then let’s go.”

  I touched his arm. “No, Rex. I have to do this by myself.” I looked around. A lantern shone through the living room in Charlotte’s house and another one lit a room in the guest cabin where the Monarchs were spending the night. I too had left a lantern on the kitchen table. Others, like twinkling stars, dotted here and there.

  “It’s my job to keep you safe.”

  “If you think about it, your staying on my front porch with the light on inside will make people think I’m here.”

  He rubbed his whiskered jaw. “You have a point. Are you going to see Miss Charlotte?”

  “No.”

  “He’s not at the bunkhouse. He’s in the horse barn.”

  What a sweet man. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll walk with you until I see you’re safe inside. Sure hope you two clear up your spat. Both of you have long faces. Seems to me, the differences in folks is what brings them together.”

  Maybe in some instances, but with Tahoma and me, our differences separated us.

  We walked toward the horse barn, and I was encouraged. Yet at the same time, I was nervous about seeing him. What if he sent me away? But I had to take the chance. This might be the last time I’d see him, and all I’d have left was memories.

  At the barn’s entrance, Rex stopped and tipped his hat. Inside, a light at the far end of a stall revealed my Tahoma. I prayed he was alone.

  Every step down the straw-laden path caused me to forget more of my rehearsed words. I’d made a terrible mistake. I should have allowed him to approach me. Men didn’t appreciate aggressive women, and here I was interrupting him after a horrible afternoon. But my desire to see him overcame my doubts. Tomorrow I’d be gone.

  Then he saw me, and it was too late to turn back.

  He stood from a bale of hay, and I didn’t see any anger on his finely chiseled face.

  “I hope you don’t mind my seeking you out.” I took a deep breath to steady my nerves.

  “Not at all.” His words sounded soft, almost welcoming.

  Dare I hope he’d been thinking about me?

  “I’ve been pondering things, and I wanted you to know my decision.”

  He gestured toward the hay. “Have a seat.”

  When I did, he sat beside me. The nearness of him made me dizzy.

  “I’m sorry those men have once again terrified you,” he said. “I’ve been trying to figure out who’s working with the killer. I’ve studied the ranch hands, and nobody looks suspicious to me.”

  The men after me had nothing to do with my trepidation. “Today has caused me to reevaluate my thoughts about staying here. None of us has heard from Mr. Murdock, but I can’t allow one more person to be hurt—or killed—because of me. I’m leaving in the morning. Possibly Chicago, where Victoria had wanted me to go when Grandfather was killed.”

  He stared at me and stiffened. He was stoic and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “If they found you here, they can find you anywhere.” He looked away then back at me. “Please, stay. Here I can…watch over you…see you every day.”

  My heart pounded so hard that I wondered if he could hear it. “I don’t see how I can remain here. It’s selfish.”

  “My father would be grieved if he couldn’t fulfill his vow to your father.” He sighed. “And I would be too.”

  Were his words about a promise made between two men, or did he have any deeper feelings for me? I must continue on. “I regret our disagreement the day you were shot.”

  He shook his head. “I failed to consider that you have grown up in a part of the country where the law doesn’t have to be questioned. Here, the law is miles away, and we often need to take care of our own matters. Walt Chambers was one of those instances.”

  I nodded, not to agree, but in understanding. “The law in Syracuse didn’t stop what happened to Grandfather.”

  “I’m sure they’ll find the killer.”

  The silence between us made me uncomfortable. After all, he’d obviously wanted to be alone.

  “I’ve missed not talking to you every morning,” I finally said.

  Several moments passed again, and I began to believe he’d not missed talking to me. My heart plummeted.

  Tahoma reached over and took my hand. This was where I belonged. His dark brown gaze collided with mine, and I saw what I’d hoped, even prayed for.

  “I didn’t intend for my loyalty to your father to affect—”

  “What?”

  “My heart, Eva. Should I apologize for what I feel?”

  “No,” I whispered. “That’s why I’m here. I had to see you one more time before I left.”

  “But you needn’t leave. I’ll protect you.”

  “At what price?”

  “It’s no price at all.” He reached up and touched my cheek. How I’d longed for him to caress me.

  His finger trailed down my cheeks and traced my lips. He lifted my chin, and when his lips met mine, gently and with such tenderness, I thought I might weep. A moment later I did.

  Once we parted, I laid my head against his chest, and his arms embraced me.

  “Whatever are we to do?” I whispered.

  “I have no idea, but have I convinced you to stay?”

  My eyes filled with tears. “How can I now? I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you. And with Mr. Whitman shot, who will be next?”

  “We don’t know for sure if the shooter was after the Monarchs or you.”

  I wrapped my arms around his waist, wishing this precious time together could last forever. “We’re living in an illusion if we believe I wasn’t the target.”

  His arms tightened. “Eva, how I long for this turmoil to be over.”

  “I can’t remember when I wasn’t afraid for myself or someone. But it’s only been a matter of weeks instead of a lifetime.”

  “Can’t you stay until Mr. Murdock finalizes his plans?”

  “I’m not sure.” I wouldn’t argue with him. Not tonight.

  “Then I must believe you will stay.”

  “Have you learned if Chambers confessed to anything?” Perhaps if I changed the topic, he would not press me.

  “Only what he told Rex and Juan. He claimed he wasn’t working alone. Eva, promise me you won’t try to leave.”

  I hesitated. “Rex told me he and Juan looked for signs of whoever had done the shooting today.”

  “Juan found horse tracks for one rider, and the animal had thrown a shoe. He followed the trail to the main road that goes into Santa Fe. A truck must have loaded the animal, because the tracks ended there. Could have been on
e man or two.”

  “I want this all finished. For not one more drop of blood to be given for me. I’ve taken advantage of everyone here at the ranch, including you and your family.”

  “None of us were ordered to help. We wanted to.”

  “Why can’t they leave me alone?”

  “Because you witnessed a murder.” He gripped my shoulders with both hands. “You haven’t promised me you’ll stay.”

  “I can’t,” I said. “I care for you—and all the others here—too much.” I almost said I loved him. Perhaps the words would be sealed forever in my heart.

  “I’ll track you down, Eva.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “No matter where you run, I’ll find you.”

  I knew he would. But what was I supposed to do?

  CHAPTER 37

  Long after Eva left the horse barn and Tahoma made his way to the bunkhouse, he fretted over her leaving Ghost Ranch. Exhaustion had settled on him, making it hard to concentrate. But until he could come up with a way to keep her there safe, he couldn’t give in to sleep. He’d heard the determination in her voice, and he understood why she was compelled to leave Ghost Ranch—and him—far behind.

  Perhaps he should tell her of his love. When he kissed her and she wept, he nearly gave into the words inscribed in his heart. Eva wasn’t like the woman in Chicago who’d broken his heart five years ago. But Tahoma remembered the hurt of being betrayed, the humiliation that caused him to swear off caring for any white woman.

  Eva didn’t have anyone to impress, did she? She’d never mentioned another man or distinct plans for the future. But why was he thinking about this now? His concentration should be on stopping the turmoil in her life.

  If she left the ranch, where would she go? He was certain Mr. Murdock had not contacted her. Tahoma also assumed that with her money, she could travel to any part of the world until the authorities found the killer. Maybe that kind of arrangement would be best. Above all, she needed to be tucked away in a place—anyplace—where the killer could not find her.

  Still dressed, he climbed from his bunk in the dark and stepped out into the night to sit with Whitman. If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well keep a vigil eye over the injured man. Which one of Charlotte’s hired hands had been involved with Pete’s death and probably Whitman’s injury? He’d spent time with all of them in hopes the guilty one might let something slip. But nothing surfaced except a deep suspicion about one of them, a highly trusted man.

  At times he thought he knew by the way the man seemingly disappeared. A ranch hand could only check on fence and cattle so many times. But Tahoma couldn’t follow him and keep an eye on Eva at the same time. Rex could be trusted, but naming a suspect raised the stakes. No man wanted to be accused of murder or of being an accomplice to murder.

  Calling James Murdock made sense, but in doing so he’d have to leave Eva alone with no one to protect her but Rex. The only good thing that had resulted from leaving his family was his closeness to her. But he needed help from someone he could trust.

  Perhaps Whitman would feel like talking.

  Tahoma opened the door to the cabin where Whitman rested. Mr. Monarch sat by his side talking, laughing. Good.

  “Hey, Doc,” Whitman said. “I’m fine. No need to waste sleeping hours on me.”

  Tahoma grinned, masking the second reason why he’d checked on the injured man. “Well, I can’t sleep. So I’m here.” He glanced at Mr. Monarch. “Why not join your family? I’m sure they’d feel better if you were with them.”

  The man swung his attention from Whitman to Tahoma. “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve been trying to convince him of the same thing.” Whitman pointed to the door. “I appreciate the company, but your wife and kids were pretty shaken today.”

  Monarch hesitated then stood. “If I’m needed, don’t hesitate to come knocking. I really feel bad about today. I wish I knew which of us was the target—not that I want any harm to come to Miss Eva.”

  “This is tragic for all concerned,” Tahoma said.

  Monarch nodded and left the cabin.

  Tahoma viewed regret in the lines on the injured man’s face. All those who realized a killer was among them felt the same frustration. He sat beside Whitman and noted the agony on the man’s drawn features and in his downcast eyes.

  “How about something for the pain? That will help you sleep.”

  “Soon. I want to talk about what happened out there first.”

  “Did you see anything at all?” Monarch pressed his lips together. “I did.”

  “Enough for the authorities to make an arrest?”

  “Doubt it. But enough to question him.”

  “Are we talking about the threats on Eva’s life or the Monarchs?”

  “Eva.”

  “I’ve had my suspicions but nothing substantial.” Tahoma settled back in the chair. “Willing to swap names?”

  “You first.”

  Tahoma toyed with his answer, but what if his suspicions were correct? “Juan Martinez.”

  “Charlotte would be devastated.” Whitman’s face tightened. “With Chambers in jail, then we’re looking at two, possibly three men.”

  “Gets worse, doesn’t it? Ready for the painkiller yet?”

  “Not until we’re certain about Pete’s killer.”

  “So you suspect Martinez too?”

  “The figure I saw in the cottonwoods was a slight man with a limp. But later Juan came with Rex in the truck, and we learned the shooter escaped on horseback and into a truck.”

  “Juan reported all of that, and I don’t think any of the ranch hands were with him at the time. Rex scouted in a different direction.”

  “Maybe I need to pull myself out of this bed and question him.”

  Tahoma knew Whitman wasn’t going anywhere in his current condition. “Why don’t you take the pills I’m offering and get some sleep? I’ll go talk to Martinez.”

  “You’re taking away one of the favorite parts of my job. I want to nail him.”

  “But you can talk to him tomorrow.”

  Whitman closed his eyes again. No doubt the pain in his leg had increased. “You’re right. I’m in no shape to approach him tonight.”

  “I’ll stop by once I’m finished, and if you’re awake I’ll fill you in.”

  His eyes snapped open. “Wake me up.”

  Tahoma wanted to tell him that whatever he learned could wait until morning, but arguing with an injured man made no sense. He reached into his pocket for the pain relievers. After pouring Whitman a glass of water and giving him two pills, Tahoma left the cabin.

  Darkness prevailed around the bunkhouse.

  “You expectin’ trouble?”

  Tahoma recognized Rex’s slow drawl. “Maybe. I need to talk to one of the hands.”

  “Must be important if you’re plannin’ to wake him up.”

  He swallowed his irritation. After all, Rex was on Eva’s side. He’d die protecting her. “Who’s watching Eva’s cabin?”

  “She’s with Charlotte. They’re visitin’. I think Miss Eva is restless, can’t sleep. Anyway, I saw you leave Whitman and head this way, so I figured you might need some help.”

  “Possibly.” They reached the bunkhouse.

  “I’ll go get whoever you want to see.”

  Rex would most likely know where Martinez slept. “Good. I need to talk to the foreman.”

  Rex hesitated. “All right.” He opened the door while Tahoma waited.

  Moments ticked by, and with each one passing, the insects chirped louder while his thoughts raced with what he’d say to Juan. At any second, he expected to see the two men in the doorway.

  The door creaked open and in the blackness, he saw only Rex.

  “Juan’s gone. The men around him said he never turned in tonight. He’s the one workin’ with the killer, isn’t he?”

  Tahoma slammed his fist into his palm. He had liked the man who worked hard and got along with e
veryone.

  “You best go tell Miss Charlotte, and I’ll look to see if his horse’s gone. Couldn’t find him in the dark nohow.”

  He hated telling Charlotte this latest bit of news. She’d trusted Martinez, and Tahoma had also liked the easygoing man. But someone must have found his vulnerable point. Someone who wanted Eva dead.

  Tahoma made his way around the bend and up the path to Eva’s cabin. The lantern flickered through the window. If only Juan would have been on the front porch with a reason why he hadn’t been to the bunkhouse. Tahoma had no choice but to speak to Charlotte and Eva.

  And then another idea occurred of how he could keep Eva safe.

  After Tahoma told Charlotte and me about Juan Martinez, my stomach churned. All the strength and courage and determination in me dissolved into a pool of tears. I wanted Tahoma to take me into his arms, but he didn’t. That hurt too, as though he was ashamed of what had happened in the horse barn just a few short hours before. I wish I understood him better. For that matter, I wish I understood myself and all that was happening around me.

  I decided to venture back to my cabin, since it would be my last night at Ghost Ranch. I needed to pack…and think. Tahoma accompanied me, but we said little to each other. I suppose we were wrapped up in our own thoughts. I didn’t want to tell him I was definitely leaving in the morning with Charlotte. We differed in opinion about the matter, and I was too tired to debate the issue.

  Rex waited on the front porch. My dear sweet cowboy stepped away to allow us privacy to say goodnight.

  “You need your rest,” Tahoma said. “We’ll sort this out in the morning.”

  In the darkness I wanted to see his face and try to read his emotions. He stood not twelve inches from me, but I could sense his uneasiness like a wall between us. “I need to think some more. I’ll probably go with Charlotte in the morning and make a call to Mr. Murdock.”

  “Should I go with you? Juan may try something.”

  Remembering our last car trip together brought back terrifying memories. “Maybe staying here with Rex is best. Juan may return if he doesn’t think you suspect him.”

  “Then who will protect you?” He rubbed my arm.