Suzanne gasped, looking from the man to Luke, then back again. Suddenly, she remembered Luke’s sore shoulder, and the desperation she had felt for Art was nothing compared to the concern that rushed through her now.
The man was scrambling to his feet, his fists balled, when a commotion in the front of the lobby brought a dead silence to the group.
The sheriff and two of his deputies stood with guns drawn. “Buster, you and your no-good partner saddle up and ride out of town,” he ordered. “Otherwise, you’ll spend the night in jail. I warned you, there’d be no more fights!” The big bully loosened his hold on Art, and now Art’s long legs buckled and he crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath.
“Your boyfriend needs you,” Luke drawled.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she hissed under her breath.
“Then you have no right leading him on the way you do.”
She threw her head back, staring into Luke’s face with flaming cheeks and flashing eyes. “How dare you speak to me that way!” she sputtered, forgetting that he had come to her rescue. She suddenly seethed with anger toward Luke. How could he be so stupid? Then she saw Art sprawled out on the floor, clutching his throat. She ran over to kneel down beside him.
“Are you all right?” she asked, smoothing Art’s rumpled coat.
He was still gasping for breath, but at the sight of Suzanne leaning over him—her face flushed with concern—a bruised smile touched his purple face. He leaned against her, luxuriating in the comfort of her arms.
The crowd had begun to disperse. When Suzanne ventured a glance over her shoulder, Luke was gone.
“Uh-oh,” Art muttered, and Suzanne followed his worried eyes to the direction of the stairs. His father was charging toward them, his eyes boiling with anger.
“Here are your wages,” he snapped at Suzanne, shoving a wad of bills into her hand. “You and Rosa be ready to leave first thing in the morning. And Art”—he whirled on his son—“you and I have business to take care of.”
Art didn’t utter a sound as his father waved toward the front door, and the two marched out without a backward glance.
Suzanne had stared after them, thinking that was how it would be if she were ever foolish enough to marry Art, whose father barked out the orders and Art snapped into place.
Embarrassed and close to tears, she hurried to her room, yanked off her clothes, and jumped in bed. Taut with nerves, her aching body lay rigid on the feather mattress for several minutes. Then, stretching her sore limbs, she told herself to forget the disaster downstairs and enjoy a comfortable bed, a luxurious room. The crisp sheets caressed her skin, and a pillow of softness cradled her head.
Still, she could not sleep.
She judged it to be midnight when finally she crept across to the window, sneaked the shade up, and peered down at the sidewalk.
Cowboys still milled about in twos and threes, talking and laughing. She didn’t recognize any of the men from the ranch, and she wondered where everyone had gone. Her eyes settled on the swinging doors of the saloon across the street. She squinted down, trying to make out a familiar form in the blur of people. It was hopeless. In the smoky haze of the saloon, it would be impossible to recognize anyone.
Was Luke in there? she wondered, creeping back to bed. She closed her eyes. In her memory, she saw the look of scorn on his face, heard his scalding reproach. What troubled her even more, however, was her own behavior. She had rushed to Art’s side, merely to spite Luke. She had wanted to hurt Luke—she had tried. Tears of shame filled her eyes. What had gotten into her?
Art shouldn’t have let the man bully him that way, one side of her brain argued. Why, she had shown more nerve than Art. At least she had stood up to the men, while Art had done nothing to defend either of them.
How could he, when he was being choked? the other voice argued. Luke would have defended himself and her. He had come to her side even though she had been with another man. He’d been ready to fight for her, and would have, even with an injured shoulder.
She stared at the plastered ceiling, wondering exactly how Luke felt about her. As much as she wanted to believe he cared for her, she could find nothing of substance on which to pin her hopes. He probably would have come to any woman’s defense. He was, after all, a gentleman, even though he could be gruff and argumentative. Like Pa. Was that one reason she was drawn to him?
Tears trickled down her cheeks in the darkness as the strain of the past week took its toll. Her mind jumped from concern for Pa to concern for Luke. And finally, she had one more thing to worry her. For days she’d tried to explain away her reaction to Luke. Tonight the truth had caught up with her.
I’m falling in love with him, she thought miserably, and I might as well admit it. It seemed hopeless, for Luke was obviously still brokenhearted over his wife; maybe he would never love another woman the way he had loved… G. Suzanne didn’t even know her name.
She saw in her memory the wedding band with the two hearts linked together. She cried harder.
“Lord, touch his heart, please… and heal the broken places,” she prayed.
CHAPTER 13
Luke left the hotel lobby abruptly and stood outside, breathing deeply of the night air, trying to calm his temper. He was almost as angry with Suzanne as he was with the Parkinson kid.
She would end up marrying him and living a miserable life. If money and security were that important to her, then she could have both with his blessings.
No, not his blessings.
He stared across the street to the rowdy crowd entering and leaving the saloon. He was too tired for that, and now his shoulder was killing him.
“Thomason!”
He turned to see Mr. Parkinson charging toward him, fumbling with a wad of bills. The son cowed at his side, looking thoroughly subdued.
“We can settle our own matters,” the older Parkinson said tightly. “You don’t need to trouble yourself.”
Luke stiffened. The man was obviously mad at his son but taking it out on everyone else. He’d seen that before.
Parkinson was peeling off bills from the wad in his hand. “Here’s the wages we agreed on. You’re free to go.”
Luke nodded, accepting the money. “Thank you, sir.” He spoke with respect to the older man, but as he turned to walk away, his blue eyes slid to Art and narrowed, as his lip curled in contempt. Then, he turned and made his way to the livery.
Suzanne’s return home had been uneventful. Johnny, an older cowhand with red hair and freckles, had arrived at the hotel just after daybreak to escort them. Suzanne suspected that Mr. Parkinson was trying to get her out of town as soon as possible, before she caused more trouble! Johnny had taken over the team, freeing Rosa and Suzanne to take turns napping in the bed of the wagon. They had made camp that night, then reached Trails End by the next afternoon.
Hurriedly, she had fetched Nellie and ridden away from Trails End. She was grateful for the money and relieved that she and Hank could go to Colorado Springs, but she feared she had alienated the Parkinsons.
As she topped the knoll and the log outpost came into view, she felt like bursting into tears. She hadn’t realized how tense she had become the past four days. Now, seeing familiar territory brought a feeling of enormous relief. Everything looked peaceful. Only a few horses were tied at the hitching rail in front of the store.
Her eyes scanned the cabins out back of the post as she wondered about her pa. She hoped he hadn’t been too grumpy with Mattie, who had kindly offered to wait on him.
She clucked to Nellie, who seemed to recognize the familiar territory as well, for she quickly responded, and they galloped across the valley in record time. Suzanne slowed Nellie up as they reached the front of the log building, then hopped off, looping the reins over the rail. She hurried toward the front door, ready to make excuses for Hank’s behavior. When she pushed the door open and entered, she saw Hank reclining at the table in the rear, a coffee mug between his hands, a wide smile creasing h
is thin face.
Mattie stood in the kitchen door, listening intently as Hank entertained two cowboys with a tale of his rodeoing days.
As the door slammed behind Suzanne, all eyes flew to the front of the room.
“Suzanne!” Hank roared, grinning from ear to ear. “You made it back.” The grin disappeared as he looked her up and down. “How did that cattle drive turn out? Did those fellows treat you all right?”
“Everything went just fine. Rosa and I tended to our business, they tended to theirs. We got to Pueblo, spent the night in a wonderful hotel, then Johnny drove Rosa and me back.”
Hank scratched his chin. “Everything turned out okay, huh?”
“Just fine. How’ve you been?” It wasn’t a lie, she told herself, she had just told her pa what he needed to hear. She leaned down to give him a big hug, forgetting the soreness in her body.
“I’m getting fat and sassy from Mattie’s cooking!”
Suzanne turned to Mattie, who was coming forward to greet her, arms extended.
“I’m mighty glad to see you,” Mattie said, squeezing her hand. “He’s been worried and frankly so have I.” Her brown eyes made a sweeping inspection of Suzanne. “You’ve lost a few pounds.”
“I’ll find them soon enough. Has he given you any trouble?” Suzanne asked, dreading to hear the answer.
“No. He’s behaved himself just fine.” Mattie smiled.
Suzanne saw the tenderness that touched Mattie’s features as she looked at Hank. Was there something different in Hank’s eyes, as well? Suzanne wondered, as he grinned at Mattie.
“I’ve had some mighty good meals,” he said, patting his stomach.
“Doc Browning brought a doctor from St. Louis,” Mattie informed Suzanne. “He agrees your father should see the doctor in Colorado Springs.”
Hank fell silent, staring at the floor.
Mattie put an arm around Suzanne’s shoulder. “Bet you could use some beef stew.”
Suspecting Mattie might have something more to tell her, she nodded with enthusiasm. “That sounds wonderful.”
Once she and Mattie had reached the privacy of the kitchen, Mattie’s smile faded. The brown eyes she turned to Suzanne now held a look of concern.
“He hasn’t complained, but I see him touch his chest several times a day. I’m worried.”
Upon seeing her father, Suzanne had felt as though the invisible burden that weighed her down had suddenly been lifted. Now that weight returned, crushing her again.
“I can take him to Colorado Springs.” She glanced toward the dining room. “We’ll leave tomorrow, if possible.”
Mattie was staring into the dining room, deep in thought. “I don’t think he should ride a horse,” she whispered.
Suzanne sank into a chair, bewildered.
“Mattie, I hadn’t even thought about that. How could I be so dumb?”
Mattie hugged her. “Child, there’s not a dumb bone in your body. We just forget Hank’s not up to doing the usual.”
Suzanne nodded sadly, hearing her father’s voice merrily relating another rodeo story.
“I asked him about the wagon you brought here,” Mattie continued. “He said it’s still in the barn. Could you take it? That way he could stretch out in the bed if he gets tired.”
Suzanne looked back at Mattie, suddenly wondering how they had managed without her.
“That’s a wonderful idea.”
“I’m sure you could get one of those cowboys to go along.” She inclined her head toward the dining room. “You could give them a wage.”
Suzanne pursed her lips, thinking it over. She hated the idea of paying someone when she and Hank might need every dollar. “Let me think about that.”
“I know your pa will say he doesn’t need any help,” Mattie said. “And maybe you two can make it on your own. Wish Lilly was here so I could go.” She shook her head, looking frustrated. “Listen, I have a dear friend who runs a boardinghouse there. The least I can do is let her know you’re coming. She’ll take good care of you.”
Suzanne turned back to the woman who had become their best friend. “How can I thank you for all you’ve done for us?”
Mattie’s eyes had strayed to Hank. “Just bring him back healthy, and that’ll be thanks enough.”
Luke stared into the campfire, trying to sort through the confused thoughts muddling his brain. As soon as Parkinson had paid him off, he had stalked to the livery, resaddled Smoky, and ridden out of Pueblo. He’d wanted to put distance between himself and everyone else, particularly Suzanne.
He had ridden for a couple of hours, letting the cool darkness wash over him, calming his frustration and anger. He had made camp late, sealed in cozy darkness with only the saunas of Smoky munching grass and a squirrel playing in the tree.
As the campfire dwindled, he found himself thinking back to his mother and the good principles she had instilled in him. His conscience was tugging at him, telling him that Hank Waters needed him. The man had been like a father to him, and he didn’t know when he had enjoyed another man’s company as much as he had enjoyed being with Mr. Waters.
He’d heard Johnny complaining about having to get up early and drive the women and the chuck wagon back. Apparently, Junior was staying in town with Daddy.
Luke frowned.
Did Suzanne plan to take Mr. Waters into Colorado Springs with no help?
He stood, kicked out the campfire, and reached for his bedroll. He’d sleep on it. Since he was going to Colorado Springs anyway, he just might offer to help.
Suzanne walked through the house, relieved to be home. She kept recalling the way Mattie had looked at her pa. Was Mattie thinking of her father as more than a friend? He had mentioned Mattie several times, as well. They might just be a good match for each other, Suzanne thought as she sat on her bed, yanking her boots from her weary feet. Instead of feeling a surge of joy over the idea, she was disappointed in herself to experience a twinge of jealousy.
How could she deny her father happiness in his old age? Well, knowing her father, nobody would deny him anything if he made up his mind. She stretched out on her narrow bed, then turned on her side, snuggling into the pillow.
“It’s not meant for man to be alone,” her mother had often told her. That was true. It would be good for her father to have a companion in his old age.
What about me? she thought wearily, wondering where Luke was by now. Halfway to Colorado Springs, no doubt.
She was almost asleep when the distant sound of hoofbeats penetrated her semiconsciousness. Her lashes parted, her eyes drifting open. Was it Pedro coming back? He had left soon after they had arrived. He’d taken good care of the horses. She had asked him to stay on while they were in Colorado Springs, but first he wanted to return to Doc’s ranch for the night.
The hoofbeats were real and coming closer. She sat up in bed, wondering if Mattie had sent a cowhand to check on them.
“Suzanne,” her father called, tapping softly on her bedroom door.
“Come in,” she called.
He opened the door and looked at her with puzzled eyes. “Luke’s riding up,” he said.
CHAPTER 14
She couldn’t have been more surprised. She had thrown on a housedress, brushed the tangles from her thick hair, then taken an extra moment to compose her thoughts.
Hank’s voice flowed throughout the cabin, offering coffee, answering Luke’s questions about his health. Suzanne took a deep breath and opened the door.
Luke sat with her father at the kitchen table, sipping the brew, munching on one of the tea cakes Rosa had packed for them. They were discussing her father’s heart condition. At the sound of her steps, Luke turned in the chair and looked across the room.
Their eyes met and Suzanne caught her breath.
He needed a shave, his blue eyes looked weary and haggard, and his clothes held a layer of trail dust. Yet, she had never been so glad to see anyone in her entire life.
“Hello,” she said, s
miling at him.
“Hello.” He nodded, preparing to stand.
“Keep your seat. Please.” She sauntered across the living room to stand at the end of the table. “You must be tired.”
He nodded. “What about you?”
Suddenly, she didn’t feel tired at all. She felt as though she could run all the way to the trading post.
“I’ve rested.” She wandered back to the coffeepot, pouring a small amount into her mug. She really had no taste for coffee at this hour, but she needed to occupy herself in some way, and maybe she needed a reason to join them at the kitchen table. Her eyes surveyed Luke’s thick dark hair, waving at his neck and around his ears.
“Did you get home all right?” he asked in a casual tone, glancing at her.
“Yes, Johnny drove us back. Rosa and me,” she added, then wondered why she felt compelled to explain who had accompanied them. “He insisted we get an early start.”
Hank cleared his throat. “She tells me there were no problems on the drive. I’m mighty proud of her.”
Suzanne’s eyes flew to meet Luke’s face. His expression was inscrutable. She knew the man well enough to know he would not mention the ugly scene at the hotel if she didn’t want him to. For once, she was glad he was closemouthed. This was not something she wanted Hank to hear about.
“Your daughter did remarkably well under the circumstances,” he said, studying the tea cake.
Under the circumstances! She cleared her throat, settling into a kitchen chair. “I assumed you were halfway to Colorado Springs by now. Or already there.”
He was studying his mug, taking his time to answer. Just why had he come here? she wondered wildly, although she wasn’t about to ask. She was just glad that he had.
“I’ve come to help you and your father get to Colorado Springs. If you want me to, that is.”
That announcement seemed to startle Hank as much as it did Suzanne. “Well, that’s mighty decent of you,” Hank said, shifting his thin frame against the wooden chair. “We sure could use some help.”
The Brides of the Old West: Five Romantic Adventures from the American Frontier Page 9