She was not sure when she became aware of Dillion racing alongside. He kept shouting at her, she could see his mouth moving, but the wind tore the words away before she made sense of what he said.
The fact that she was not alone helped steady her. Once more, she used her strength to gather the reins tight, despite the mare fighting her. A quick look showed Dillion inching ahead on the big bay that he rode. His arm was extended to catch hold of the bridle.
Even when he held the leather, it took minutes before the pace of both horses slowed. Guiding the mare, Dillion brought her around in an ever-tightening circle, until the powerful animals stood with sides heaving, but still at last.
Belinda could not move. A quivering began in her legs and rose to encompass her body. She felt chilled, then hot. Reaction set in. Fear found the chink it had been waiting for and attacked.
She lifted a shaking hand to push aside the tangle of her hair. Belinda had not felt the pins come loose. Like the animal beneath her, Belinda’s chest heaved as she drew in great lungfuls of air, feeling as if she would never get enough. She swallowed repeatedly to alleviate the parched constriction in her throat.
“Here you go, ma’am. Drink a little at a time from my canteen,” Dillion offered. “You ain’t hurt?”
Belinda shook her head. She stared at the offered canteen. She wanted water, needed it to wash away the taste of fear, but she would have to release the reins to get it.
Dillion sensed what was wrong with her. He capped the canteen and slid down from his horse. Standing beside the mare’s head, he held the bridle and kept his voice to a soft, calm murmur as he rubbed the mare’s nose to quiet her. After a few minutes, he patted her neck, working his way to the side where Belinda held the reins.
“Let me have them, ma’am. It’s all right now. You can let go. I won’t let anything happen to you.” His voice remained at the same low pitch as he coaxed Belinda until she released her hold on the leather.
“You drink up. Go on. I’ll stand right here and keep this little gal still.”
Belinda took tiny sips. The water was warm but slowly satisfied her thirst. She handed the capped canteen back to Dillion, who slipped the cloth strap over his head.
“Dillion, what happened back there? Those popping noises—”
“Someone used us for target practice.”
“Target practice?” Belinda repeated. “Are you suggesting that someone deliberately shot at us?”
“Ain’t suggesting. I’m telling you. The boss’s gonna have Kincaid’s scalp for this.”
“Kincaid? You think the sheriff—”
“Don’t think, ma’am. Know it for a fact. He’s bound and determined to see the boss swing at the end of a rope. Everyone knows he’d do anything to prove the boss’s behind his family’s troubles.”
Conner shoot at them? Belinda refused to believe it. The man was not a coward, and shooting at them in the dark was the act of a coward, no matter what Dillion said.
“See if the mare’s hurt. She screamed with pain and I am afraid she may have been hit.”
“Might be best if you got down, ma’am.”
“I’m shaking so much that if I get down, I will not get back up. Walking does not appeal to cowboys, I am told.”
“Heck no. Once knew a fella that rode his horse from the bunkhouse to the outhouse, and that weren’t no more than ten, maybe twenty feet.”
Belinda laughed, as he had meant her to do, but that laughter stopped when he found the bloody furrow where a bullet had grazed the mare’s haunch.
“She’ll be all right for you to ride her. But we take it slow and easy.” He swung into his saddle, taking a moment to replace the canteen on his saddle horn. “I know you didn’t like hearing what I said about the sheriff, but you’ll hear worse from Mr. Riverton.”
“It was a cowardly act. I cannot—”
“Meaning no offense, ma’am, but you don’t have a notion of what you’re talking about.” He nudged his horse to set off at a walk. Belinda followed.
“See,” he continued, “after what happened to Kincaid last night, he’d sink lower than a sidewinder to get even.”
Belinda muttered under her breath. She did not like hearing Conner accused of being a coward. She wanted to defend Conner. An act that made no sense. He was a grown man who could easily defend himself.
A little interested prompting on her part would gain her knowledge of what happened to Conner last night. She could not forget the haunted look in his eyes.
“I am confused, Dillion. What exactly is the sheriff bound and determined to get even for?”
“The rattlers, ma’am. Instead of locking up those two hombres he claims he caught with Rocking K cattle in the jail, he was there himself. Someone dumped a sackful of rattlesnakes into the cell with him.”
“My Lord!”
“Well, He musta been watching over Kincaid the way I heard it. Nothing happened to him. He shot the snakes and walked out without being bit.”
You are wrong! she wanted to shout. Something did happen to Conner. A rush of compassion soared through her. The mare sidestepped, bringing Belinda’s attention back to her. She murmured to the horse, patting her neck.
“You are claiming that the sheriff blames Ch—ah, Mr. Riverton for this?”
“Sure am. He’s been after the boss since he bought the land and set up the Circle R. Kincaid was the big cattle king in these parts. Had the contracts for the Indian reservations, some army contracts, too. The boss gave better prices and took them away from the Kincaids.”
“Revenge,” Belinda said, mulling over what she knew. But if Charles was innocent, why would he have paid for a map that had something to do with the Kincaids? And who had sold it to him?
On the ride into town she had debated with herself about telling Conner what she knew. In part, her meeting with Macaria prompted the debate. The woman had assured her that, as painful as the decision might be to accept, if the little boy they knew as Marty was her brother’s child, no one would stand against her. Learning that the boy still had nightmares about his parents’ deaths helped Belinda to curb her impatience to see him immediately.
With Macaria as an ally of sorts, Belinda no longer had to use the information she had as a bargaining device. Yet she had not told Conner about it.
It was his own fault. The man reduced her to a mass of heated sensations with one lingering look from his gray eyes. It was a totally new experience for her and Belinda was not sure how to deal with it, or Conner. But she knew herself well enough to understand that she was drawn to Conner Kincaid as she had never been to any man before him.
Belinda had been so lost in her thoughts that she was startled when Dillion pointed out how close they were to the ranch.
“You intend to tell Mr. Riverton what happened?”
“Got no choice, ma’am. He’s got to know.”
“I wish you would not say anything. If what you claim is true, this will only fuel—”
“Pardon, ma’am. You heard Kincaid threaten me. See, he’s got you thinking it couldn’t be him, ’cause he warned me. But they’re a tricky bunch over on the Rocking K. First thing I got warned about when I signed on was to watch out for them.”
“Neither one of us was hurt, and you said the mare would be all right.” But her argument was weak, Belinda had heard Conner threaten him, almost as if he knew…no! She refused to think that of him. Rubbing her forehead as Dillion held a quick, whispered conversation with the men guarding the gate, Belinda knew she could not sort it all out.
The moment they were clear of the gate, she pleaded with him again. “Let me tell Mr. Riverton what happened.”
“You’re welcome to say your piece, but it ain’t gonna make no difference. Kincaid went too far. Now he’s gonna pay for it.”
Belinda saved her breath and further argument. She marshaled them for a confrontation with Charles.
But when they dismounted by the door, Mrs. Dobbs admitted them, and informed them that Mr.
Riverton was not there.
“He was summoned away on business this afternoon,” the housekeeper explained to Belinda when she asked.
“When will he be back?” Dillion demanded. “I gotta talk to him.”
“He said he’d be gone a few days.”
“It can wait until he returns.” Belinda took hold of his arm and urged him to step aside with her out of Mrs. Dobbs’s hearing. “I want you to keep quiet about this until he comes back. I grant you that your suspicions have a solid basis, but you do not know for sure that it was the sheriff shooting at us. Without proof, you have no right to make an accusation that could cause bloodshed.”
Inside, Belinda was shaking, but she held a steady gaze on the young man’s face, willing him to agree.
“I don’t like it, but I’ll wait till the boss comes back.”
“Thank you, Dillion. I will not forget this.” As he turned to go, Belinda added, “Please take good care of the mare. I do not want anyone else to tend her.”
He tipped his hat and left.
“Will you still be wanting supper, miss?”
A reaction was setting in to the ordeal she’d been through and the thought of food made nausea churn in Belinda’s stomach. “A cup of tea, Mrs. Dobbs. By the way, did Mr. Riverton leave a message for me?”
“Not directly, miss. He mentioned he hoped to be back from Tucson in order to accompany you to the Kincaids.”
Belinda left the housekeeper. In her room she said a prayer that Charles’s business would keep him away. She did not want him to visit the Kincaids with her. His presence would cause trouble.
She hoped Charles’s absence would prove to be a blessing. She now had the opportunity to discover why he had paid to have a marked map of Kincaid property. She was not sure any longer why it was important for her to find it. An inner voice nagged that she had to. All Belinda had to do was avoid Mrs. Dobbs’s prying eyes.
Long after the housekeeper had brought Belinda tea and bid her good-night, Belinda paced her room, counting the minutes until it would be safe for her to search Charles’s office.
While she paced, she thought over what Dillion had told her about Conner. Would he use any excuse to take revenge on Charles? Would Conner attempt murder? She backed away from thinking of such a strong description of this night’s incident. But Belinda could not lie to herself. If she had been shot, or thrown from a runaway horse, she could have died.
Had one kiss clouded all reason from her mind where Conner Kincaid was concerned? Or was she a pawn in a deep game played by Conner and Charles?
She had no answers. And it frightened her that she questioned her own judgment of whom to trust.
Chapter Eleven
For Belinda, Saturday morning arrived in a flurry of anticipation and dread. She was excited and worried about this first, and most important, meeting with her nephew.
She did not wish to appear intimidating to a little boy who had never met her. Memories of early years when she had been summoned into her grandmother’s sitting room and faced that imposing grand dame made her determined that Robert’s child would not fear her. Macaria had assured her that she would pave the way for this meeting. She had spent less time dressing for any number of evening entertainments, she reminded herself as she settled on what she would wear.
Comfort in the growing heat was a factor. Over her chemise she wore a light, open-weave summer corset. Her bodice of dotted lawn was decorated with lace inserts, Swiss embroidery and tiny tucks that fanned from the softly gathered neckline. A wide ruffle of lace formed the yoke. The lightest weight skirt she had was a black cotton printed with a tiny watered floral of rose, green and pale pink. The skirt, she noted thankfully, had been made to be worn without the cumbersome bustle.
Belinda coiled her hair into a simple chignon at her nape. She fixed the last hairpin in place and waited. Several worried looks were cast at the leather satchel filled with gifts that stood by the door.
She had had to rely on married friends’ advice in choosing the toys. The painted iron soldier set came complete with tiny brass cannon. The wooden rescue hook and ladder wagon had four large draft horses to pull it and the inlaid game box combined fishpond, checkers and dominoes with a board to play on.
She strolled to the open doorway. In the distance the sky was overcast with dark clouds. She returned to her pacing, glancing time and again at the jacket she had set out. “Should I take it?” She fingered the material and decided against it.
Footsteps on the tiles outside claimed her attention. She was already pinning on the black straw hat with a modified brim when Mrs. Dobbs announced the arrival of the driver and buckboard sent by Mrs. Kincaid.
“I will be along in a few minutes, Mrs. Dobbs.”
“Very well, miss.”
Belinda, hearing the disapproving tone, stuck her tongue out to her reflection in the mirror. It was a silly, childish thing to do but it made her feel better.
She tilted the brim of the hat forward a bit more, and placed a last hat pin through the band that ended in a bow with a deep rose spray of tiny primroses. A dab of scent behind each ear, a little on the wrists, and she was ready for the black kid gauntlet gloves. Her eardrops were cameos, matching the one pinned to her neckline. Miniature pearls twisted with gold formed the frame.
“Reticule and satchel,” she murmured, lifting them up. “Parasol, this time,” she reminded herself, for her ride into town had tinted her skin to the same shell pink color of the cameo.
Mrs. Dobbs was nowhere in sight as she made her way down the long hall. It was just as well. The woman had had very little to say since Charles was absent, although Belinda could not fault her housekeeping skills. Mrs. Dobbs, thankfully, had proved to be a sound sleeper. Belinda had accomplished her goal, but it had taken two nights of trying before she managed to pick the lock on Charles’s desk. She had yet to reach a decision of what to do with the map she had copied.
Stepping outside, Belinda frowned when she saw the old Mexican driver. Displeasure filled her when Dillion stepped away from where he leaned against the arch to take her satchel.
“What are you doing here, Dillion?”
“I’m escorting you to the Kincaids.”
“That will not be necessary. As you can see, Mrs. Kincaid has provided me with an escort.” Belinda glanced at the buckboard. It looked solid enough, but she was not sure about the driver, hunched over as if he were either drunk or asleep. The man wore a wide felt sombrero and striped poncho. He had offered no greeting and did not even bother to look up as she continued to argue with Dillion.
“Put my satchel in the buckboard,” Belinda ordered. “Then go back to whatever it is you do. You are not coming with me. I am paying a social call and I will not have trouble with the Kincaids because you are there.”
“The boss said I ride when you ride, ma’am. Don’t mean no disrespect, but he pays me and you don’t. Them’s my orders.”
“Dillion, I can take care of myself. And I care this,” she stated with a snap of her fingers, “for your orders.”
“That’s your right, ma’am. Don’t change nothing. I’m coming with you.”
Belinda wanted to shout with exasperation. She did not want him coming with her for a variety of reasons. The one she had scarcely admitted to herself was the chance of seeing Conner there. She had not forgotten Dillion’s accusations against him. Until she had the opportunity to speak to Conner about what happened, she wanted no trouble.
“You are a reasonable man. Compromise with me. You may ride with us as far as the boundary separating Mr. Riverton’s property from the Kincaids. I assume you do have boundaries?”
“Sure do, ma’am. But I ain’t so sure that’s the right thing to do.”
Seeing that he was wavering, Belinda stepped closer to him and whispered, “Please understand, I am going to meet a young child today. He does not know me. If the Kincaids are annoyed or angered, they may not let me see if the boy is my nephew. Surely you can satisfy both me a
nd your orders by waiting somewhere for my return?”
The young man scratched the back of his neck and looked around. “Well, since you put it that way, guess it’ll be all right. But you can’t tell anybody. It means my job, ma’am.”
“No one but you and I will ever know. I can promise you that.”
A chortle that quickly turned to a cough made Belinda look hard at the old driver.
Once Dillion helped her up onto the buckboard’s padded seat and handed Belinda her parasol, he went around to the driver’s side.
“Old man, you take care driving Miss Jarvis, or I’ll take it out of your hide. Savvy, cholo?”
Another fit of coughing attacked the old man.
Belinda wondered if Macaria had realized how sick the man was when she sent him over.
When Dillion pressed him for an answer, Belinda spoke in his defense. “Leave him be. I am sure that he will drive very carefully.” She opened the parasol with a snap and sat up straight.
“All right. Go on. Just remember that I’m right behind you.”
Holding the parasol with one hand, Belinda grasped the low wooden side of the seat. She could not help but notice the long, strong-looking fingers of the old man as he released the pole brake, made a clucking noise to the team of bay horses and snapped the reins to turn them in the circular driveway.
Smiling a secretive little smile, Belinda kept her suspicions to herself.
She glanced over her shoulder to see Dillion mount his horse. As they started out, she was thankful that he rode a short distance behind, far enough so that he could not overhear any conversation.
Belinda schooled her impatience until the buckboard cleared the gate. Dillion stopped to speak to the two guards and she quickly took advantage.
“I wonder why Macaria sent you along as my driver, Sheriff?” She stared straight ahead, feeling a little smug as the silence stretched. “Your ruse did not work.”
“How’d you know?” Conner asked with a resigned note.
“Your hands gave you away. Although I admit I became suspicious when your laugh turned into a cough. What did I say that was funny?”
Once a Lawman Page 10