To Have and to Hold (Cactus Creek Cowboys)

by Greenwood, Leigh

  Norman nodded.

  “After that, you are not to go near Frank unless he invites you. If Frank comes near you, you are to be polite. Since you don’t appear to know how to talk to people in a civilized manner, it would be wise to say as little as possible. Preferably nothing. I expect your wife can say all that’s needed. Understand?”

  Another nod.

  “One further set of instructions. Stop telling people what to do. I’ll take care of that for you. You’re not to mention your money, and you’re not to mention your grandfather. I expect everyone already knows more than enough about both. If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know. Now I want to make sure you understand before we go to speak to Frank.”

  When the nod didn’t come immediately, Colby tightened his hold, which produced the desired effect.

  “One last thing. You might be thinking I can’t force you to make an apology, and you’re right. I can beat the hell out of you, I can choke you—I’ve spent enough time with Indians to know some rather nasty ways to torture you—but I can’t actually force the words out of your mouth. I can, however, call a meeting of the group and get them to vote you out. Your brother and father-in-law might not vote against you, but after what you did today, everybody else will. Are we clear?”

  Norman nodded.

  “And you will make the apology?”

  He hesitated, but he nodded again.

  “Good. Now let’s go.”

  Since the Kessling and Spencer wagons were next to each other, Colby wasn’t surprised to find Ben lurking outside the wagon. “I’ve got a job for you,” he said before Ben could scuttle away. “Ask everybody to join Norman and me at the Olivers’ wagon. He has something he wants to say.”

  Ben’s eyes grew big and his mouth dropped open, but he recovered in a flash and was off, his summons delivered at the top of his voice as he ran.

  “Do you think this is wise?” Naomi asked.

  Colby was so glad Naomi spoke to him, he didn’t mind that she didn’t appear pleased to see him. “I think it’s necessary if there’s any chance of healing the divisions in this group.”

  “What’s he going to say? Papa said he’s never seen a man closer to a breakdown.”

  “Nothing he can say will make losing Toby easier, but he can apologize for being such an insensitive bastard.”

  “I’m not sure that will help.”

  “Things won’t get better if we don’t try. Come out,” he called to Norman. “I don’t want to have to go in after you.”

  Norman’s head emerged from the wagon. He hesitated when he saw Naomi.

  “It’s not going to be any easier if you put it off,” Colby told him. “Let’s go.”

  They walked together, Norman on one side of Colby and Naomi on the other. Ben came running up.

  “I told everybody. Mr. Oliver said he wants to kill Norman. He said he doesn’t care if he hangs for it.”

  Norman looked ready to bolt.

  “He’s not going to kill you,” Colby said. “It’s just his anger speaking.”

  “He’s tried it already.”

  “You’re going to apologize to make sure he doesn’t try again. Not another word from you,” he said to Ben. “You’ve said enough.”

  Ben started to defend himself but thought better of it.

  By the time they reached the Oliver wagon, people were gathered three-deep around Frank and Mae. A look of shock came over many faces when they saw Norman.

  “Norman has come to apologize,” Colby announced. “That’s why he wanted all of you to be present.”

  Colby pulled Norman forward until he was facing Frank and Mae at the center of the circle. Frank started to jump up from his seat. Mae’s restraining hand caused him to sink back, but it didn’t change the look of black fury on his face. Colby hoped it was more anguish than hatred. Mae faced Norman squarely, her gaze steady and challenging.

  “Norman wants to say that he’s sorry for Toby’s death. He knows Toby died so that the rest of you could be safe. That was a heroic sacrifice, and he wants to acknowledge it.”

  Norman’s first words were mumbled.

  “Frank can’t hear you,” Colby said. “Start again, and look at Frank and Mae so they’ll know you mean it.”

  When Norman finished, Sibyl came to stand next to him.

  “I want to join Norman in saying how sorry I am for Toby’s death.” She turned her glance to Polly Drummond. “He would have made a wonderful husband and father.” Somehow she managed to convey the impression that her standing next to Norman was a duty but that her words were sincere.

  “Norman is particularly sorry for his thoughtless and insensitive words to Frank and Mae,” Colby continued. “He didn’t mean to be cruel. He was just too busy thinking of himself, which is a habit he is going to work very hard to break.”

  There was an audible intake of breath, and all eyes turned to Norman.

  Norman managed the first two sentences. It took some prompting from Colby—in the form of a jab in the side—before he managed to repeat the last one.

  “He realizes his loss is no one’s responsibility but his own. If he can’t keep up, he’ll choose something to leave behind.”

  Norman’s gaze had dropped to the ground.

  “Frank and Mae aren’t going to believe you if you don’t look at them,” Colby prompted.

  Norman stumbled through the words, but he did lift his head.

  “Norman thinks some recognition should be made of Toby’s sacrifice. Once you have found a place to start a new town, he wants everybody to decide on a fitting memorial. You’re not to consider costs. He’ll pay for everything.”

  Colby didn’t know whether Norman had given up resisting or if he didn’t object to a memorial for Toby, but he repeated those words with more energy than any of the others.

  “One more thing. Norman realizes everyone is of equal importance to this community, that the differences in wealth or social standing don’t change that. As of now, he’s giving up his position of leadership. From now on, decisions will be made by a committee of three chosen by everyone present.”

  Every eye became riveted on Norman. They had to be wondering if he would say those words…and if he would mean them.

  “You have to speak a little louder,” his wife prompted him. “They can’t hear you.”

  Everyone knew Norman hadn’t said a word.

  Norman began, “I realize everyone is of equal importance in the community,” but appeared unable, or unwilling, to go on.

  Colby prompted, “And that the differences in wealth or social standing don’t change that.”

  “Speak up,” his wife said.

  The words burst from Norman’s mouth in an angry torrent.

  “Go ahead and finish,” Colby said. “You’re almost done.”

  Norman repeated the last sentences in a nearly normal voice, but it was clear the words would never have passed his lips if he’d had any way of preventing it.

  Colby decided to take advantage of the gathered crowd. “Since everybody’s here, it’s a good time to choose your committee. A couple of rules. Every wife is to have a vote equal to that of her husband, and all unmarried children above fifteen should have half a vote.”

  Tom Hale protested. “We’ve never done anything like that. Back in Kentucky—”

  Colby interrupted him. “You’re not in Kentucky. Out here women are required to make an equal contribution to survival. For that they deserve an equal voice in what happens to them. If Toby was old enough to die for you, he was old enough to have a say in the decisions that would affect his life. The same goes for Polly, Naomi, Virgil’s boys, and all the others who work as hard as any adult. Anybody else got a problem with that?”

  Morley Sumner spoke up. “No, they don’t. We think it’s a good notion.”

  Colby
knew his novel arrangements wouldn’t go down well with everyone, but he didn’t care. “Dr. Kessling would be a good choice to run the meeting.” Murmuring and head nodding indicated general agreement. “I’ll leave you to your deliberations.”

  With ground devouring strides, he left the circled wagons and went to where Ted Drummond was posted to watch the grazing livestock. “They’re meeting to choose a leadership committee,” he told the boy. “Join them. I’ll watch the animals.”

  “There’s no point,” Ted grumbled. “I can’t vote.”

  “Women and all unmarried children above fifteen can vote. Hurry. You don’t want to be left out.”

  Ted’s disbelief didn’t stop him from heading toward the wagons at a run. Colby laughed. It would probably be the first time the boy had been asked to give his opinion rather than being told what to think.

  He’d chosen the age of fifteen because that’s when he ran away from home. If he could survive on his own and be treated as an adult in a world of adults, then others could, too. He would have liked to stay behind to see what effect the women and older children would have on the discussion, but he wasn’t part of their community. He was hired just to get them safely to La Junta.

  He needed to be thinking about what he would do when he left. It wouldn’t be as easy as he’d thought. Despite the inner conflicts that kept them divided into separate camps, he’d become attached to them. He had a special liking for the kids. For them the West would be more of an exciting change than a difficult challenge. It would ask more of them, but it would offer greater rewards. He just hoped they would be able to see that and not become discouraged because their new lives were so different from the old ones.

  The night was calm with a cool breeze that ruffled the grass and dissipated the heat of the day. The ground was still soft, but it would dry enough by tomorrow to make traveling easier. With a day’s rest, he doubted Norman would have any trouble with only six oxen. Considering the weight of his wagons, he wondered why he hadn’t bought mules.

  He didn’t want to think about Norman, but he was impressed by his quiet and dignified wife. He knew she’d been forced into an unhappy marriage. That was one thing that never seemed to change. Elizabeth had been forced to marry a man she didn’t love.

  He’d promised himself he wouldn’t think about Elizabeth. He just got angry about something he couldn’t change.

  He whistled to Shadow. The Appaloosa lifted his head out of the grass and started toward him. His attention was so focused on the stallion he failed to hear Naomi’s approach.

  Fourteen

  “Seeing how well you’ve trained Shadow, I shouldn’t be surprised that you were able to get Norman to make that apology. Still, I’m wondering how you did it. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t heard it.”

  “Why aren’t you at the meeting? You get a vote in what they decide.”

  “You certainly stirred things up. Vernon Edwards and Tom Hale tried to change the rules after you left, but Morley Sumner told them to sit down and be quiet or he’d set them down.” She laughed again. “I’ve never seen Tom Hale look so astonished.”

  “You’ll lose your vote by not staying.”

  “My half vote, you mean. I gave it to Ethan.”

  “So why are you here? You’ve avoided me since last night.”

  “I wanted to thank you for what you did. Forcing Norman to apologize was an important step. However, it was the words you forced him to say that were more important. Norman will do his best to weasel out of them, but nobody’s going to let him forget he said them.”

  “He can only weasel out if all of you allow it.”

  “That’s hard to do when we know he takes it out on Sibyl, but that’s not your problem. What made you force the men to let the women and older children have a vote? The men have been adamant that only they would make decisions, and that they would be made in secret.”

  “I know what it’s like to be ignored when you make more of a contribution than a lot of adults.”

  “Do you intend to let your wife and children help you make decisions?”

  “I won’t have a wife or children.” He stumbled over the last word. He could see that she was about to question that statement so he headed her off. “Why are you talking to me? You haven’t even looked at me since yesterday.”

  Her gaze faltered, but she looked him in the eye. “Because I’m grateful for what you did and admire you for having the courage to do it.”

  “But you still don’t want to look at me.”

  She did look away. “That’s all I had to say.”

  He reached for her arm when she started to turn away. “What happened after we got back yesterday? You can’t be angry I kissed you. You kissed me back the second time.”

  Naomi jerked her arms out of his grip and turned to face Colby. “I don’t know why I did that. I’m sorry.”

  “You weren’t sorry then. Why are you now?”

  “I wasn’t thinking.”

  “You were thinking plenty before that. You weren’t at a loss for words. Don’t try to tell me that my kiss paralyzed your mind.”

  “That’s just what it did,” Naomi said.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  She reacted like she’d been slapped. “It’s not very gallant to call a lady a liar.”

  “What choice do I have when you won’t tell the truth?”

  “It’s not very gallant to press for the truth when a lady doesn’t want to give it.”

  “A lady would have enough courage and class to spit it out. She wouldn’t try to hide behind her gender.”

  “Okay, but don’t say you didn’t ask for it. A gentleman wouldn’t kiss one lady when he’d already promised to take care of another one. A gentleman wouldn’t lie to the first lady because he’d changed his mind because of a second lady.”

  “What are you talking about?” Colby asked. “That’s complete gibberish.”

  “I’m talking about you swearing you wouldn’t take us to Santa Fe, but telling Cassie you would take care of her when she gets to Santa Fe until she finds a husband.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “From Cassie herself. Can you deny it?”

  Colby could feel some of the tension leave. After a moment, he smiled. Naomi was not merely influenced by their kisses. She was so jealous she’d pounced on every word Cassie uttered. He was a fool to think she didn’t care for him as much as he cared for her.

  “How dare you laugh at me?” Naomi was enraged.

  “I’m not laughing at you.”

  “I can see your face despite the setting sun, and I know a smile when I see it.”

  “Do you recall Cassie’s exact words?”

  “She said you were going to take care of her.”

  “Did she tell you how?” She couldn’t have because he hadn’t told her.

  “No, but she said you had changed your mind about going to Santa Fe because she asked you.”

  “Cassie is a beautiful young woman who’s always had everything she wanted because of her beauty. She assumes if she wants it, it will happen.”

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Naomi said. “She’s silly but not an idiot.”

  “I did tell her I’d make sure she had a place to stay in Santa Fe, but it’ll be in a convent.”

  Naomi stared at him in disbelief. “You plan to put her in a convent?”

  Colby laughed. “She won’t be joining a convent, just staying there. “There’s a group of nuns who take in women with children and no husbands. They will let her stay there as long as she needs.”

  He waited several moments for what he’d said to sink in, for Naomi to decide if she believed him.

  “She didn’t actually say you’d agreed to go to Santa Fe,” Naomi admitted. “She assumed you had because she asked you
.”

  “Did she tell you she’d asked me to marry her?”

  Naomi was aghast. “She couldn’t do that, not with Abe barely cold in his grave.”

  “Cassie will be faithful and loving to the man she marries, but she’s incapable of the kind of commitment you would give a husband. When one man disappears, she’ll have no trouble transferring her affections to another. I don’t say that to be judgmental. It’s just the way she is. That’s why I was drawn to you. When you tell a man you love him, it will never change.”

  “What about you?” Her voice was so soft it was almost drowned out by the rustle of the grass.

  “I believe in commitment but not love. That’s why I’ll never get married or have children.” This time he managed to say the word without stumbling.

  “But there’s love all around. You can see it even here.”

  “I see commitment but not love.”

  “What do you think love is?”

  “I don’t know. I loved my parents, but they didn’t love me because I couldn’t be what they wanted. I loved Elizabeth”—he hadn’t meant to let her name slip out—“but she didn’t love me because I wasn’t rich.”

  “If you knew that in the beginning—”

  “She said I was the only man she’d ever loved, the only man she ever could love, until”—he did manage to stop this time—“until her father told her I was too poor, so she married a rich man of his choice.”

  “What do you think love should be?”

  He wasn’t sure. Maybe he’d just thought he loved his parents because that’s how children were supposed to feel. Maybe he didn’t truly love Elizabeth. If he had, would he have allowed her to turn her back on him? He thought he’d fought for her, but wouldn’t he have fought even harder if he’d loved her as truly and deeply as he thought?

  “I thought I knew, but now I’m not sure. What do you think it should be?”

  “I can’t speak from experience, but I think love requires a deep trust that’s not based on facts so much as it is what you know of a person’s character. I think it requires commitment that doesn’t falter during hard times. It requires respect, honesty, a sense of fair play, an ability to compromise, to put yourself second.”