Devils on Horseback: Nate

by Beth Williamson

  “O’Shea has no idea that I’m not working for him anymore. I’m in no danger.”

  “Unless Captain Nessman told him.”

  Nate hadn’t considered that possibility, but figured he didn’t want to borrow trouble just yet.

  He didn’t have an opportunity to give Elisa a proper kiss goodbye, so he had to settle for telling her with his eyes that he loved her. She watched him leave, staring at him with a bucketful of courage.

  Nate didn’t know what was worse, riding away from his friends to a possible ambush or heading toward the man who’d caused so much grief and violence. Neither choice was palatable. He focused on maintaining his control and decorum, of not allowing O’Shea or his men to push Nate into revealing anything.

  By the time he arrived at the ranch, Nate had his businessman mask firmly in place. He nodded politely to the men at the gate and continued on to Mr. O’Shea’s house. Although he’d only been there once, he knew exactly where everything was. It paid to be thorough in research of county land records.

  The dark-eyed man, Rodrigo, leaned against a column, watching them. “Marchand, you got news for Mr. O’Shea?”

  “I’d prefer to give him the news myself, if you don’t mind.” Nate dismounted and made a point of tying off the horse to the hitching rail without haste.

  “He’s eating breakfast.”

  Nate pulled the paper from his jacket pocket, looked at it, then put it back in. “If you would, please let him know I’m here and that I have invaluable information to pass on to him.”

  “What kinda information?”

  Nate managed a polite smile. “Important.”

  Rodrigo frowned, then whistled. A young boy appeared from inside and Rodrigo whispered in his ear. The boy returned inside at the same speed at which he’d appeared. Nate stood by his horse, hands folded, looking as if he had all the time and patience in the world.

  The truth was far from the scenic picture he painted. His stomach cramped so hard, he almost had to tighten his belt. His teeth were about to crack from grinding them too much, and sweat pools were gathering beneath his arms. Nate kept himself under control, barely.

  O’Shea walked outside a few minutes later with a napkin in his hand and a scowl on his face. “What the hell do you want, Marchand? If you ain’t finished the job yet, then get outta here before I shoot you myself.”

  Not entirely unexpected, but definitely unwelcome. Nate switched his tactics to soothe the savage beast.

  “My sincere apologies, Mr. O’Shea. I didn’t think this information could wait. I found some legal documentation that might affect your legal claim to the Taggert ranch.”

  Although O’Shea looked ready to snap Nate’s neck, Nate maintained his composure. He could see Rodrigo out of the corner of his eye, hands poised above the pistols riding his hips. The small hairs on Nate’s body stood at rigid attention.

  “Get on with it,” O’Shea ordered. “My breakfast is getting cold.”

  “Well as you know, you hired D.H. Enterprises to remove the Taggerts from the property. Part of our service involves obtaining legal information to assist the parties in question to make the right decisions.” Nate deliberately tried to sound confusing.

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. So get to the point.” Even though O’Shea sounded as angry as he looked, Nate saw a glimmer of interest in his eyes.

  “If I may?” Nate pulled the left side of his jacket open and glanced at Rodrigo.

  “Yeah, go ahead. He’s not going to shoot you,” O’Shea assured Nate.

  Nate pulled out the paper he’d brought with him and tried to hand it to O’Shea. The older man waved his right hand in dismissal.

  “I ain’t gonna read that.”

  Nate surmised that he probably couldn’t read. That was a shock. If he couldn’t read, then he likely couldn’t write. So whose signature was on all the documents Nate had uncovered?

  “Well according to this, which was provided by your attorney in town, the Taggert ranch was owned solely by Sean Taggert. His wife, Melissa, was the one who signed the bill of sale, correct?”

  O’Shea frowned. “I don’t know who signed it. Alvin is the one who paid the Taggerts so if that paper came from him, then that’s the right one.”

  “I see. Apparently Melissa’s name isn’t on the deed to the ranch, and since Sean Taggert was not deceased at the time of the sale, it renders the sale null and void.” Nate took a risk. He had a hunch there was a whole lot going on here, more than just a greedy man trying to get his hands on a small ranch. Nothing fit together correctly—all the pieces were either too loose or too tight in this puzzle.

  “What does that mean? I’m a cowman, boy. I don’t know any legal mumbo jumbo, so stop using those big ol’ words and just say what you mean. Spit it out.”

  “The sale of the Taggert ranch was illegal.”

  “The hell you say! There was a lawyer man and everything. I saw him write the check. It cost me two thousand dollars but I needed that water supply to keep my cattle healthy. Those bastards better have that money,” O’Shea bellowed.

  Nate’s suspicion grew that O’Shea was as much of a pawn in the situation as Elisa and her family.

  “Actually, Mr. O’Shea, the ranch was sold for twenty dollars.” Nate hoped that cannonball hit its mark.

  It did.

  O’Shea’s face flushed a bright pink. “That just ain’t true. I paid two thousand dollars for that ranch fair and square. Are they trying to cheat and say I only paid them twenty dollars for it?”

  “The bill of sale had twenty dollars on it. The Taggerts said nothing about the amount paid for the ranch.” Nate waved the paper.

  O’Shea finally understood Nate’s implications. “Somebody cheated both of us. People who cheat me end up in a hole at the bottom of a canyon somewhere with their dicks cut off and their eyes plucked out.”

  Nate was glad he hadn’t cheated O’Shea. He reminded himself to have an accounting of all the goods purchased at the general store and settle up with Marvin. O’Shea continued to bluster and shout while Nate listened patiently.

  Warning bells went off just as Nate realized Rodrigo had disappeared. Nate knew the lawyer, Alvin Potter, had to be in on the swindle; he shouldn’t have been surprised that the foreman was too. After all, he used to work for the Taggerts—he of all people knew the worth of the ranch. The situation just grew exponentially worse.

  “I think I know who took your money, Mr. O’Shea.” He inclined his head to the right.

  O’Shea followed Nate’s line of vision. When he realized Rodrigo was gone, the expression on his face was almost comical.

  “Well I’ll be dipped. That son of a bitch stole from me?”

  “Mr. O’Shea, I think you should come back to the Taggert ranch with me, there’s a lot that has to be—”

  A rifle shot split the air. O’Shea grabbed his shoulder and fell backwards onto the porch. Blood splashed on the white column beside him. Nate hit the ground, the dust clouding his vision for a minute.

  “Goddammit! He shot me. That bastard shot me.”

  At least Nate knew the Irishman was still alive judging by his complaints. Another shot pinged off the column to the left. One shattered the window directly above O’Shea’s head.

  “Stay down.”

  “I ain’t going nowhere, stupid. He’s shooting at me.”

  Nate crawled forward, hoping the next thing that happened wasn’t a bullet in his own head. Men came running from everywhere, cursing and shouting.

  “Look out, you fools. Rodrigo turned on us. Somebody kill that son of a bitch.” O’Shea was nothing if not the boss.

  No more shots were fired and Nate had a feeling that Rodrigo was trying to cover his tracks before he hightailed it out of there. Nate crawled up the steps and when he reached O’Shea, he assessed the wo
und. The bullet was still inside him, and from the look of it, he was bleeding steadily. He needed a doctor and soon.

  Nate used his neckerchief to create a makeshift bandage, but the blood was already soaking through.

  “I need to see Taggert.” O’Shea’s light eyes were glazed with pain.

  “He was murdered last night along with his entire herd.”

  The surprise on O’Shea’s face was real. Nate was rarely wrong about folks, but he’d been dead wrong about this man.

  “Elisa. Did Rodrigo hurt her?”

  Now it was Nate’s turn to be surprised. O’Shea actually sounded concerned.

  “No, he didn’t hurt her, not physically anyway, but she’s in pain for sure.”

  “I need to see her.” O’Shea grabbed Nate’s arm. “I need to see her.”

  “I think you need to see a doctor.”

  “Bah, forget the doctor. I need to see my daughter. I’m guessing you figured that out too.”

  Nate hadn’t expected O’Shea to openly admit his paternity. “Yes, sir, we sure did.”

  “Does she know?”

  “Yes.”

  O’Shea blew out a breath. “Then I damn well better see her now.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Elisa arrived back at the ranch with Nate’s friends. They were all such an odd mixture. She liked Jake, he was funny and charming. She respected Gideon, he definitely was the captain of the outfit, but he never ordered them around, and yet he told them what to do. Elisa had never been in the Army before, but she guessed that was the mark of a true leader. Being able to lead your men and have them follow with loyalty.

  Zeke, she had no idea about that mysterious man, he was as tight-lipped as a frog’s ass. And his brother, well, Elisa had already made it very clear how she felt about Lee Blackwood and his big, fat, obnoxious mouth.

  Gideon sent the other three out to scout the area and make sure no one was around. That left her alone with him. All she could think about was Nate facing O’Shea alone. Not only that, but he was doing it for her. He gave up money, and possibly his life, all for her. Just the possibility of someone doing that made her stomach quiver like it had a thousand butterflies in it.

  It also made her heart thump and stupid tears pricked her eyes. She’d shed more tears in the last two days than she wanted to in a lifetime. She never wanted to cry again and here she was blubbering over a man acting like a knight in shining armor rescuing a damsel in distress.

  Elisa didn’t consider herself a damsel, nor did she consider herself in distress. That was neither here nor there. The point was, Nate gave up a lot for her.

  “Nate has a deep sense of honor. He’s very noble and loyal.”

  Gideon’s voice startled Elisa. She’d been so busy staring out the window looking for Nate, she’d forgotten Gideon was there.

  “You don’t have to tell me that. I figured that out by myself.”

  “I knew you had. I just wanted you to know that Nate does things because it’s the right thing to do.” Gideon’s emphasis was clear.

  Elisa was about to tell him what she thought of his lousy opinion of her, but she didn’t have the energy to fight with him. So she just acknowledged his words with a curt nod and turned her back to him.

  She knew a lot about who Nate was inside by how he treated her and others around him, how he spoke, how he was always a gentleman. However she didn’t know much about his life, where he’d been, where he grew up, other than the south somewhere. Alone with Nate’s best friend, Elisa had a golden opportunity to find out something about the Frenchman who had invaded her heart.

  “Did you grow up together?”

  Gideon was moving furniture around, putting it in the most opportune spots to defend the house.

  “Sort of. Nate’s father worked at my family’s plantation,” was Gideon’s vague answer.

  “Worked? I thought he was a schoolteacher.” Elisa forgot she was annoyed, her curiosity aroused.

  “His father used to be my teacher. He’d bring Nate around with him so we had lessons together, Zeke, Lee, Nate and I. Jake came to live with us when he was ten, my mother’s cousin’s son whose parents were killed. My parents were good at taking in strays.” A ghost of a smile touched his lips.

  They’d been together more than half their lives. “You were in the war together?”

  Gideon’s soft expression hardened at the question. “Yes, we were.” Three words, all crisp, with a period at the end that echoed in the cabin.

  Elisa knew that was a topic she wouldn’t pursue any further. It had changed Gideon completely; she wondered what it would do to Nate. Jake poked his head in the door.

  “Three riders coming. Nate’s with them.” Then he was gone as quickly as he’d come.

  Elisa headed toward the door and Gideon stopped her.

  “No, stay in here.”

  “Listen, Gideon, I’m not one of your soldiers, your men. You cannot order me around. I will go out there whether or not you like it.” Elisa would not stay in the house like some scared little rabbit. She pulled her pistol from its holster. “This isn’t for show. I’m good and I can defend myself.”

  Gideon looked as if he wanted to paddle her behind and stick her in the corner. He pursed his lips together so tightly they became a white line. “I can’t imagine what Nate was thinking.”

  That one hurt. Elisa didn’t let the sting show, a skill she’d learned too well. “You’ll have to ask him.”

  Gideon took off his hat and ran his hands through his brown curls. “I didn’t mean that. I apologize, Miss Taggert. My shoulder is sore.”

  Elisa winced.

  “It wasn’t a very gentlemanly thing to say and I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. But I am going outside.”

  With a sigh, Gideon begged, “Could you at least give us two minutes to figure out if it’s friend or foe? If they have Nate as a hostage, you’re going to distract him. If he has them as hostages, you’re going to distract him. I need him to focus and he’s done nothing but be unfocused since he met you. Please, Miss Taggert, stay in the house for two minutes.”

  Elisa understood his point. She didn’t like it, but she understood it. Nate needed to have all his wits about him. If she went running out there like a silly girl, she might get them both killed.

  “Okay. Two minutes. I’m going to be counting.”

  “I expected no less. Thank you, Miss Taggert.” Gideon slipped out the door then poked his head back in a moment later. “Lock it.” Then he was gone again.

  Elisa cursed every man she could think of for being so damn bossy. They could use their manners and say please and thank you. She slid the lock into place, then stepped over to the side of the window where she could look out and not be seen.

  The three riders came up to the house, riding hard and fast. One of them was most definitely Nate. If she hadn’t recognized that beautiful horse of his, she would have recognized the way he sat in the saddle. The man knew how to sit on a horse.

  Gideon met them over by the cottonwood trees. O’Shea was on the second horse. From what Elisa could see, there was blood all over the left side of his blue shirt, an ugly red splatter that made the situation even grimmer. Elisa gritted her teeth. If Nate had shot O’Shea for her, she’d refuse to allow him to go to jail because he was trying to help her. The third man she didn’t recognize, but he looked like any other cowboy.

  No one had their guns drawn, which was a good sign. That didn’t help her heart though. She couldn’t quite hear what they said, but after speaking for a minute, all four men looked toward the house. Toward her. Elisa’s stomach dropped to her knees. She had a feeling whatever it was they were talking about, she wasn’t going to like it one bit.

  The snap of the lock made Elisa grit her teeth. She was nervous as hell. She closed her eyes, breathed deep, then stepped outsid
e. Nate dismounted and headed toward her. The look of sympathy on his face nearly undid her.

  Oh for certain she was not going to like what he had to say.

  She glanced at O’Shea. What she saw in that old man’s face had her heart pumping even faster. It actually looked like concern and something else she didn’t want to recognize. She turned her gaze back to Nate.

  “Is he your prisoner?”

  “No, honey, he’s not.”

  “Why not?” A question she didn’t want to know the answer to, but she couldn’t stop herself from asking.

  “It wasn’t him.”

  “What do you mean it wasn’t him?”

  “The ranch, your father’s murder, all of it. It wasn’t him. I know you’re going to find that hard—”

  “Hard? It’s not hard, it’s impossible. Of course it’s him. It’s his goddamn name on that bill of sale, his goddamn signature on all the papers we get saying get off the ranch.”

  Nate took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “He can’t read or write.”

  “What?” That was not true. Couldn’t be true.

  “You see that wound on his shoulder?”

  “Yeah, good one.” She told herself if O’Shea felt a thousand times the pain that her father had from his knife wounds, it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

  “I had a feeling, a hunch that something was wrong with our theories, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.” Nate cupped her chin. “It was Rodrigo.”

  Memories assailed her of growing up with Rodrigo watching her, feeling his eerie gaze on her young body. One of the reasons she started wearing trousers was to hopefully make men forget that she was a girl. Make Rodrigo forget. He smiled and charmed her mother, then left, disappearing and going to work for O’Shea. After Da went to war, all the trouble started.

  Sweet Jesus.

  Elisa had forgotten that O’Shea had been their regular neighbor most of her life. The last three years had been such an intense nightmare. The time prior to that seemed to fade, but now it all made sense. Elisa tried to absorb it but her brain and her heart had taken so many kicks the last two days, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She wasn’t the devil’s spawn.