“Tomorrow, I’ll work with bridle and saddle, but I’m done in.”
“Let me buy you and the boy supper.”
“That’s right nice of you. But first I’ll need to send a message to the ladies’ boarding house.”
“Petie!”
The boy delivered Matt’s message. Laine was left to wonder what breaking horses, Tater’s fine, catch up tomorrow meant, beyond that she and Rachel were on their own for the evening and most of tomorrow. Not that she was about to complain. They had indulged themselves with baths and a lovely afternoon tea served in the front parlor with Miz Ada, the owner of the boarding house, and her other guests. Laine had pressed her blue twill skirt and Rachel’s plaid one, and each had shirtwaists of taffeta silk in white. She wished she had a pair of kid shoes as two of the other ladies wore, but her boots had to do.
When she asked Miz Ada for a place they could eat, she offered to make a light supper for them. Laine took advantage of her kind offer.
She wondered what was Matt doing?
After supper at the cafe, which fascinated Tater, Matt decided to camp across a stream in a stand of cottonwoods behind the livery. He fell asleep to Tater’s excited chatter.
Matt was up, washed, dressed, and finishing his third cup of coffee when dawn streaked the night sky and revealed Laine, marching across the field toward him. She managed the slippery stepping-stones across the stream without a mishap.
He felt a surge of guilt for having missed the promised supper. But he’d make it up to her.
“Here comes trouble,” he muttered to himself, and to Laine, “Good morning. Or it will be soon. Coffee? It’s the real thing.”
“Thank you.” She looked around their rough camp. The dog lifted his head from where he lay at Tater’s side, wuffed a greeting, and rested his head once more. Her brother was buried beneath his blanket, which meant he was late to bed. She was glad he was sleeping. Lately, pinning Matt down alone had been an impossible task.
Still she wished she had been able to wear her long skirt and shirtwaist. She wanted to look like a woman for him. But as ever, Laine knew it wouldn’t have been practical. She couldn’t go armed while walking alone traipsing about in a skirt.
She took the cup he handed to her and blew to cool the hot liquid.
“You mustn’t think I came to check on you.”
“No?” he teased.
She bristled until she saw his grin. Laine had wrestled all night with what she had learned from one of the other guests at the boarding house. The elderly woman was a permanent resident, enjoyed gossiping about the comings and goings of anyone new who impressed her. Listening, Laine had wanted to shout the woman down, but held her tongue. She longed to gather everyone and run, but she owed Matt a debt.
It was his decision to make. But it was hard for her.
“Laine, just say whatever it is that put a bleak look on your face.”
“I’m trying to.” She sipped a little of the coffee. “Last night I heard Royce Claiborne is here in Fort Worth. And he’s not alone.”
She might as well have told him the sun was rising, for all the reaction he offered. She started pacing, still debating the wisdom of telling him. But if Claiborne found Matt first … she shuddered.
“Hey, pretty lady.”
She looked up, startled to find Matt directly in front of her.
“I want to run,” she admitted in a shaken voice. She lifted her hand, but fell short of touching him.
Matt took hold of her hand and brought it to his lips. The surge of desire he felt caught him unaware. Laine’s eyes widened as if that same awareness went through her.
“Matt?”
“I know what you want. But I can’t. First, I gave my word to Miller, who owns the livery, to finish the job I started. Second, if I run, when do I stop?”
“But it’s not you alone. The west is a big place. You said that. You also told me you could go days without seeing another soul.”
He released her hand, tempted to take her mouth. But kissing Laine clouded his mind to all but the need of her. He forced himself to ignore the pleading in her eyes.
“I’m not running.”
The implacable set of his features and voice warned it was useless to argue. Laine gave fleeting thought to telling him that she loved him. The thought died; the words remained unspoken. She was afraid he would believe she’d use that to have her own way. Or had her deception killed all tender feelings between them? Inside her, a pit of pain yawned wide. If she lost him … No. She must not think that.
“Do you want to take Tater with you?”
Here it was, a test of her faith in him. “No, Matt. I trust you. Even if you have it in short supply for me.”
“That’s not true, Laine.”
“We haven’t talked about what happened. We need to do that.”
“I know.” He looked away. “I’m still undecided what I’ll do. Can you understand that?”
“I can. I do. But please remember it’s not you alone. I … never mind. Can Rachel and I come and watch you?”
“It’s a rough crowd.”
Rejected. No matter what he said. She’d shoot Claiborne herself if she saw him. The week spent getting here, she had prayed all the strife and threats were left behind them. Laine was tired and hurting totaling losses.
The despair in her eyes made him feel sharp pangs of regret. He was proud of his work with wild horses. What man didn’t want to show off for his woman?
“Laine, maybe you and Rachel could come by this morning. There won’t be many around. But you stay with Miller. He’s an old fashioned gentleman.”
“I’d like that. So will Rachel.” She handed back the cup. “I’d better go. Rachel will be wondering what happened to me.”
“Wait a second. I’ll walk you back.”
“Not necessary, Matt. I’ll be fine. I got here, didn’t I?”
Matt spilled out his coffee. He tossed the cups on to his bedroll.
“You’ve got a mighty strong independent streak. But I insist.”
Laine merely shrugged. She would not allow him to see she was pleased with having his company for a little while longer.
But when they finally arrived at the boarding house, Laine was breathless from keeping up to the fast pace Matt had set. He had given her no opportunity to talk.
“I’ll send that boy Petie in an hour to escort you.”
She swallowed a protest. “Fine. I’ll be waiting. And Matt, please be careful.”
He gave her a quick, hard kiss. “Always.”
He left her before he weakened his resolve. He knew she believed he was punishing her by withholding himself from all they had shared, both as friends and as lovers. But it wasn’t true. He never wanted anyone else, never loved … loved? Yes, loved anyone else. He still found it hard to believe that Laine might return the feeling.
He’d kill Royce Claiborne if he had to. But starting a new life with Laine shouldn’t be tainted with death.
He had been planning on going back to confront his long time enemy.
Now, Claiborne had brought it to him.
Chapter Twenty
Matt walked behind buildings, angling toward the stream. He crossed over away from his camp. As he drew near, he saw a mounted man talking to Tater. The dog sat quietly beside the boy. Matt eased his hand from his gun. Closer, he visibly relaxed. He knew the horse. He was sure he knew the rider.
“Will? I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Same goes. Heard about you in a saloon. Fella swearing he’d never seen the like. Claims it was better than a traveling medicine show.”
Matt laughed. “High praise. There’s coffee.”
“And welcome. Me and the boys are camped south of here. Ran some stock we couldn’t match to owners and drove some cattle from the thicket. Figure those folks we saved could use the cash.”
Tater carefully handed Will the hot co
ffee. “Matt?”
“No. You have a cup.”
“Matt, Royce Claiborne is here with his rowdy crowd. Cutting up quite a stir. Him being this wealthy planter and all. Sold a herd of cattle. They got rooms over at the Butler House.”
Matt flashed on Miller talking about the man he’d bought the saddle stock from. That put Matt between a rock and a hard place. The odds of the horses being stolen were strong. He couldn’t knowingly buy horses with blood on their tails.
“I’ll be around. So will the boys. We’re mighty tired of running and hiding like swamp rats.”
“Thanks, Will. I’ve only had a small taste and I’m sick of it. No one has the right to force men to live like animals. But there’ll be one less to plague folks.”
“I thought someone was missing from his crowd. Heard he took off to parts unknown.”
Matt didn’t deny or acknowledge his remark. “I’ve a job to finish. Just keep them off my back. If they show.”
“If you figure he won’t, you’re whistling Dixie in the dark. He can’t afford to have any one of us telling what we know or suspect about him and his cronies. I gotta ask, Matt. You weren’t surprised?”
“Laine came earlier to tell me. Damn! She and her sister are coming down this morning. Watch out for them, Will.”
“You do as you need. We’ll have your back.”
Matt knew he had to be calm to work with the horses. He’d always found them sensitive to a rider’s emotions. But it was hard going into that corral despite the gun he wore, knowing he was a target.
He held the bit flat on the palm of his hand, the bridle straps wrapped around his arm. He began his round of grain rewards with the chestnut, allowing him to lip the hard metal once the grain was gone. Matt scratched beneath his forelock, praising the animal, and slipped the bit into his mouth. The few seeds of grain were cleaned before he removed the bit.
Matt couldn’t lose himself in the well of pleasure as he had yesterday. He managed to ignore most everything but the horses. Two handfuls of grain and half an hour later saw the bridle in place. He used the big boar bristle brush which the chestnut enjoyed, before he smoothed the saddle blanket on the horse’s back.
He gathered reins and mane in one hand, and swung himself up. The horse backed a few steps, then stopped.
Matt nudged him with his heels, made two circuits of the corral, then dismounted. He paid no attention to the whistles and catcalls he garnered. He was pleased he had caused no stir among the other horses. Matt pressed his advantage with the chestnut by tying him to the rail post and putting a saddle on his back. The horse turned his head, looked from Matt to the saddle, lipped Matt’s sleeve and waited.
Wisely, Matt didn’t attempt to cinch the saddle. His hand held it steady while he walked the horse around a few times. The sun was fully up, and the heat and dust had him licking his lips.
On the third circuit, he noticed the canteen hung on the post near the grain pail. He took a few sips of water, then spilled a good bit of grain on the ground. Matt cinched the saddle, gently nudging the chestnut’s belly to deflate the swell of the barrel, checked the stirrup length, and mounted.
Holding reins and saddle horn with one hand, he braced for bunched muscles, the forewarning of bucking. The chestnut finished the grain, swung his head to sniff Matt’s boot, then started walking the circuit on his own.
“Open the gate,” Matt ordered. He whispered to the horse, whose ears swiveled to catch the calm voice. He rode him at a walk, then a trot, followed by a canter. Matt longed to run him, but as tension ran out of him, he decided not to.
He rode over to where Miller stood with Tater. “This is the first of your horses.”
“Son, you’re worth a hell of a lot more than ten dollars.”
Matt grinned. “I’ll take you up on that when it’s time to dicker out prices on the horses I want.”
“Oh, Matt,” Laine exclaimed as she and Rachel joined them. “That was truly wonderful to see.”
Miller faced her. “You must be the special lady he …”
“Miz Laine Ellis, this is Mr. Dan Miller. He owns the livery.”
“Pleased, mighty pleased to make your acquaintance. And who is this lovely little lady?”
“My sister, Rachel.”
“Most charmed.” He looked up at Matt, having realized Matt intended the horses as a surprise. “You have a fine young man here. I’d be privileged to take all of you to supper at the Butler House this evening.”
Matt was relieved he was still mounted when he went from relaxed to rigid. Laine showed no reaction. He realized she did not know that Claiborne was staying there. He caught Will’s gaze on him. Will nodded, silently assuring Matt that he and the others would be close by.
“It really is Matt’s decision,” Laine said.
The old reckless feeling welled up inside him. “Sure. We’d all enjoy that.”
“But, Laine,” Rachel whispered, “Miz Ada said she would help me finish trimming my gown. She has lilac ribbon I can have. Please let me stay with her tonight.”
“If that is what you really want. I hope you will not be offended, Mr. Miller.”
“Wait. Wait.” Tater pushed his way forward. “Petie said I could help him in the stable with the horses.”
“Tater! That’s rude after Mr. Miller’s kind offer.”
“No, little lady.”
“I’m sorry, sir. But it’s a chance …”
“Say no more, son. I’m fond of the critters myself.” He looked at Laine. “You’re still coming? You wouldn’t cheat an old man of escorting the prettiest gal in town?”
Laine colored up like a pair of red long johns flapping in the wind. She blushed that hard as Miller continued to charm her. He arranged the time he would come by to escort her. The next thing Matt knew, Miller was walking away between Laine and Rachel.
“Appears I’ve got a rival,” Matt remarked to Will.
“Forget that. You get dumped on your head while I wasn’t looking?”
“What are you jabbering about, Will?”
“Going into the lion’s den.”
“You’re worrying for nothing. What’s he going to do? Shoot me?”
“You like living dangerously, Matt. He could very well do just that.”
“I’ll be armed.”
“So will I. Speaking of being armed, you got a suit?”
“A suit?”
“House rules. Can’t eat in the dining room of the Butler House without wearing one.” Will gave him a measuring look. “You’ll never fit into mine. There’s a tailor who sells ready-mades in town. Outfit you for less than ten dollars. Got some nice dollar shirts, too.”
“Perdition! This is getting to be an expensive meal.”
“But your lady is worth it. I’ll let you come to my hotel. We got hot baths and a shave for twenty-five cents.”
“Next you’ll tell me I need a haircut.”
“Well, now that you mention …”
“No. Enough is enough.”
“Matt, my man, when you go courting, ain’t no such thing. And don’t forget to stop by the confectioner’s.”
“For what?”
“A few little sweets. A lady will expect them. Or you could bring her flowers.”
Matt finally caught on to Will’s gentle nudging of how a southern gentleman went about these rituals. All of it learned at his pappy’s knee or from some kindly older brother.
Matt determined then and there to listen. His Laine deserved no less than the best he could be.
Chapter Twenty-One
Laine couldn’t remember a time when she had been so fussed over. Once Rachel announced the evening’s planned supper with Mr. Miller, Miz Ada couldn’t do enough. She lent Laine a lovely lace-trimmed shirtwaist. Another lady
lent her a cobwebbed shawl, deeming it too warm for a smart little jacket. Lace gloves and a delicate drawstring purse were added.
She took a bath, used her sister’s homemade lavender water, and allowed all of them a say in how she would wear her hair. Laine rejected the offer to cut it, so it was decided a simple upswept style that softly framed her face was best. Then she dressed and bore with patience the required turning and posing.
“Ada, this gal needs some color. My gold earbobs will help, but the problem’s the hair. Too much of it. Are you sure, dear, you won’t wear a hat?”
Laine shook her head. Mrs. Mava Hoig, a widow who loved her gossip, was very insistent about what a lady required to complete her toilette. Laine took another look at the offered hat with its plumes, and stuffed birds, and fruit and shuddered at the thought of wearing it.
“Ladies, if you change me anymore, Matt won’t recognize me.”
“I have aigrette feathers.”
“Too dressy, Ada. Flowers! That’s what we need.”
In the end, the little gold earbobs and pale yellow flowers were satisfactory to all.
“Now, missy, when they arrive, you scoot up those stairs. Count to twenty-five before you come down.”
“But why?” Laine was absolutely puzzled.
“To make an entrance, silly girl. That’s why you do it slowly. After all the time you spent to look beautiful, you must give your gentleman the opportunity to admire you.”
Mava appointed herself to watch for the men’s arrival. She constantly twitched the lace curtain every few seconds.
Laine wasn’t exactly nervous, but she wasn’t calm either, since Miz Ada refused to allow her to sit and wrinkle her skirt.
She looked at her sister for support, but Rachel’s face was aglow with happiness. This is what her sister missed, and if she was being honest, she missed it, too.
“Run upstairs,” Mava hissed. “They’re here. Oh, my. Mr. Miller brought out the canopy-topped cabriolet carriage, and he’s driving his blacks.”
“His blacks?” Rachel queried.
“Matched horses as alike as peas from the same pod.”
The Homecoming Page 17