Wicked Wyoming Nights

by Leigh Greenwood

  “When are you going to forget about your uncle? Ira isn’t going to like it no matter when you tell him. You wouldn’t let him keep you from marrying Cord, would you?” Ella demanded sternly.

  “No.”

  The noise from below increased suddenly, and Ella had to raise her voice. “You wait until I see that boy. It’s about time someone asked him if he means to wait until you’re too old to do anything but hold hands.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “I certainly would. No point in waiting for a man to come to the point when a little push will do the trick.”

  “Why should he be afraid?”

  “They say once burned is twice shy.”

  “What do you mean by mat?”

  “Only that Cord was badly burned by Eugenia Orr, and maybe he needs a little shove to realize he’s dealing with a different kind of cat this time.” The noise from downstairs wasn’t so loud now, but it seemed to be broader, like a subterranean buzzing.

  “How can you refer to a woman as a cat?” Eliza giggled. She knew all about Eugenia.

  “All women are cats. Some are wildcats, some lap cats, others ordinary tabbies. Then, of course, there’s Lavinia’s alley cats. There’s nothing wrong with being a cat as long as you’re the right kind.”

  “And what kind am I?”

  “A pussycat. You let everybody run over you.”

  “What are men?” Eliza asked, curious.

  “Dogs, with wolves and coyotes thrown in for good measure.”

  “I guess that’s why the two sexes have so much trouble getting along.”

  “They’d get along fine if they could just agree on what’s important. Men are always worried about how they look in other men’s eyes. That’s what that crowd’s doing downstairs. Everything’s got to be their way, or they’re ready to fight. Women would never be so silly. Maybe we’d pull a little hair, but we’d work out a compromise and get on with the business of living. We don’t believe in killing, especially not over something as senseless as cows.”

  “Do you think Cord’s like that?”

  “He’s worse than any of them. He’s so stuffed full of courage and honor he’s bound to get himself shot in the back if some gal doesn’t talk some sense into him. Melissa would only encourage him to buy more cows and take over more land. You owe it to him to save him from himself.”

  “You make him Bound defenseless.”

  “All men are, especially against a conniving woman. They can’t see half what a woman can with her eyes closed. Why, any one of us could have told you what Eugenia Orr was going to do. That girl was rotten to the core, but Cord would have killed the first man who dared say a word against her. Women aren’t so stupid. We know our men aren’t perfect, but we accept them as we find them. Men get all caught up in their ideals, and they get fighting mad when anything threatens to blow it up in their faces.”

  Lucy came hurrying into the room. “They’ve found another man dead, somewhere on the road that runs along the south edge of Mr. Stedman’s range, and the whole crowd is about to go crazy.”

  “Who was it?” demanded Ella.

  The young Frater boy.”

  “Oh, Lord, that’s Simon, and him about to be married.”

  “They say his brother is over at the sheriff’s office calling for somebody’s blood.”

  Abruptly, the noise from below grew louder, with shouts punctuating the din, and then it subsided once more.

  “There’s bound to be trouble now,” said Ella, genuinely worried. “They’re still talking about the attack on Lem and Bucky, and that was nearly two months ago. Now there’s two more killed.” She shook her head. “I should have known it wouldn’t stop with those killings over at Newcastle. Sooner or later it had to end up here. I don’t know where it’s going to stop.”

  Ira burst into the room, stopped abruptly when he came face to face with the three women, then turned to Eliza, his face warped by anger.

  “You’re damned cowboy friend has gotten himself in a mess he can’t get out of this time.”

  “Stop talking foolishness,” Ella commanded impatiently. “If you know something, tell us. And don’t give me any of your wild imaginings.”

  “It’s no use defending him now. This time it’s too obvious for anyone to ignore.”

  “What’s too obvious?” Ella snapped testily.

  “Both the men were shot in the back, and both were killed on his land.”

  “Lucy said Simon was found on Red Creek Road. It runs to the South of the Matador.”

  “It’s just over the ridge, so close Stedman could have picked him off without ever leaving his own land. It’s as clear as daylight it’s Stedman. Everybody knows he’s the best shot around here.”

  “You’ve got no proof? Eliza said, badly frightened. “Just because Mr. Stedman can shoot doesn’t mean he did it.”

  “I know he can do no wrong in your eyes, but for once what you think doesn’t matter.”

  “I happen to think rather highly of Cord Stedman myself,” Ella stated majestically, “and I dare you, Ira Smallwood, to tell me that what I think doesn’t matter.”

  Ira was considerably worked up, but not enough to brave Ella’s wrath. “Even the sheriff thinks it looks suspicious.”

  “And I’ve no doubt Croley Blaine agrees with him.”

  “Croley’s not for rushing into things, but he minks we ought to see what’s been going on at the Matador.”

  “Nothing has been going on,” Eliza insisted, “and you won’t find anything either.”

  “I’ve no doubt his cowhands would lie to cover for their boss, but he’s gone too far this time.” Ira headed toward his room.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to get my guns so I’ll be ready when they decide to go after him.”

  “Don’t be a fool,” Ella said. “You can’t take the law into your own hands, not even if you have proof?” But Ira disappeared into his room, and moments later the women could hear him going through his drawers and closets in search of guns and ammunition.

  “What are we going to do?” Eliza asked.

  “Nothing,” Ella stated flatly. “There’s nothing we can do. I’ll own myself surprised if the sheriff lets these hotheads get out of town, but if he does, there’s nothing you or I can do to stop them.”

  “But what about Cord? Somebody has to warn him.”

  “Don’t you worry about Cord. He can take care of himself. Ira’s right about one thing. It would take the whole army regiment from the fort to get past his cowboys.”

  “Don’t wait dinner,” Ira said to Lucy as he reentered the room, his hat on his head and a gun belt around his waist. “Maybe none of us will be back before tomorrow. You’re to sing just like nothing has happened,” he told Eliza and was gone before she could protest.

  “I’m going to see what’s going on,” Ella said, heaving herself out of a deep chair. “And don’t you leave this room, Eliza Smallwood, especially not to go down to that saloon. There probably won’t be any trouble to speak of, but with the boys getting this riled up, there’s bound to be a lot of drinking, too much for some people. Then they get into fights and start shooting up things. It won’t do for you to be seen.”

  “But I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

  “Lucy, you keep an eye on this foolish girl. More people have gotten hurt because some silly female, with no idea in the world of how a cowboy’s mind works, thought she could settle a dispute if she could just get them to talk about it. The sooner you learn that out here men are most apt to talk with guns first and tongues second, the sooner you’ll stay inside and leave well enough alone. They’re mostly blowing off steam, but it won’t do to put a match to it.” Ella put on her coat for it was early, December and a bitter wind was blowing. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  Eliza sank back into her chair, her stricken countenance ashen, her eyes wide and staring. Lucy watched her out of the corner of her eyes, wishing t
here were something she could say to comfort her. Angry men seldom took thought for the consequences of their actions; it was left to the women to wait and weep.

  Lucy hadn’t been gone ten minutes to check on dinner when Eliza stuck her head out of the door; seeing no one, she walked quickly down the narrow hall leading to the back of the saloon, tiptoed down the stairs, eased out the back door, and hurried to the stable where her uncle rented horses. A surly lad of fifteen opened the stable door.

  “Afternoon, Miss Sage. What you doing out today?” Eliza stiffened. She always disliked it when people called her by her stage name.

  “I’ve been cooped up all morning, and I want to go for a ride.”

  The young man didn’t move. This is not a good day to be driving about. People are all upset about the killings.”

  “Well they’re not upset at me” retorted Eliza, irritated he had made no move to harness a horse to the buggy.

  “Does your uncle know you’re leaving?”

  “Please harness my horse at once,” Eliza responded, quite angry now. “I intend to go visit a friend.”

  The boy got up to fetch out Eliza’s horse. With maddening deliberation, he settled the harness over the placid animal and methodically attached it to the buggy, making sure that every trace was secure and every harness strap properly buckled.

  Eliza was barely able to contain her impatience, but she knew she must not do anything to arouse the boy’s curiosity. It was imperative that her uncle and the others not guess she was going to warn Cord.

  “Don’t be back too late,” the boy informed Eliza as she climbed into the seat and took the reins. “The boss don’t like it when the carriage horses are kept out after dark.”

  Eliza drove away at a smart trot without giving him an answer.

  She had intentionally chosen a bonnet with a large brim in hopes no one would recognize her, and she got out of town, recognized or not, without anyone stopping her.

  Eliza pulled the buggy to a halt in front of the gate. She had never been to the house before, and she didn’t know where to look for Cord, but she was nearly rendered speechless when a woman stood up, practically from under her feet, where she had been working in the garden. It had never occurred to Eliza there might be a woman at the ranch.

  “How do you do.” The woman’s greeting was open and cheerful. She was pretty in a buxom sort of way, and obviously not one to mind hard work. She wore a bonnet with an even larger brim than Eliza’s, and her gloves were soiled from working in the dirt.

  “Forgive my appearance, but if I don’t get the last of these roses properly buried, the cold will kill them. I keep telling Mr. Stedman it’s a shame to let his garden go to ruin, but he can’t see the value of anything cows won’t eat. They would eat the whole garden if I let them, the nasty beasts, but everything here’d be no more than a few mouthfuls for one of them. I told him some day he’s going to get tired of living on me back of a horse, and then he’ll be sorry he let his yard go.”

  Eliza gaped at the garrulous young woman who seemed as much at ease as if she were in her own home. But she is at home, thought Eliza; I’m the outsider.

  “You’ll have to forgive my running on like this. It’s so seldom I see a female my tongue starts spinning like a windmill in a wind storm. I’m Ginny Church, the foreman’s wife. I don’t believe I know you.”

  “I’m Elizabeth Smallwood.”

  “So you’re the schoolteacher.” She pulled off her gloves as she stared quite openly. “They told me you were pretty, but they never, said you were beautiful. Come on inside. We can’t talk with the wind freezing our wits. I suppose you’ve come to see why I haven’t been sending my boy to school.” She opened the gate surrounding the little garden and indicated for Eliza to precede her. “I mean to send him next year, along with Myra Landis’s boy, but he’s just turned six and that’s too young to go such a distance by himself.” She looked at Eliza a little guiltily. “Besides, I wanted to keep him with me a little longer.”

  “It’s not that at all,” Eliza assured her. “I came to see Mr. Stedman on a matter of some urgency. I very stupidly assumed he would be at home. I should have known this was probably the last place I’d find him.”

  “He’s in,” Ginny said. “I’ll have my husband see if he can round him up for you!” She ushered Eliza inside. “This house used to be just about as empty as the plains, but Mr. Stedman brought back a whole houseful of furniture. I don’t know when I’ve been more surprised by anything.”

  Eliza was led into a room that would have done justice to any parlor in Cheyenne. Instinctively she took off her bonnet.

  “Ain’t it pretty?”

  “It’s beautiful, but I must see Mr. Stedman. It’s rather urgent.” Eliza realized she sounded rude, but she couldn’t stand around talking about furniture when Cord’s life might be in danger.

  “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll see if I can find Frank.” But she didn’t get a chance to leave the room. The sound of boot heels on the polished hall floor was quickly succeeded by the appearance of her husband.

  “Frank, this is Miss Smallwood. She’s come to see Mr. Stedman.”

  “We’ve already met,” Frank said; Eliza frowned in an effort to remember. “In town.”

  “Now I remember.” She didn’t. She felt dull and stupid, and she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “Do you know where to find Cord?” asked Ginny. “It’d be a pity if she came all this way and he was halfway to Casper.”

  “He’s here somewhere, miss. I’ll find him. I need to see you a minute, Ginny.”

  “Frank,” she chided, speaking like she would to a small boy, “you know I can’t leave Miss Smallwood alone.”

  “It won’t take long.” Still his wife hesitated. “It’s important.”

  “Excuse me, miss. I won’t be but a minute.”

  “You needn’t hurry.”

  “Now what’s so important?” Ginny asked her husband as soon as they were out of the room.

  “Do you know who she is?”

  “Sure. She’s the schoolteacher.”

  “But do you know who else she is?”

  “Quit with your games, Frank. She can’t be more than one person at a time.”

  “She can. That’s Miss Belle Sage, the singer at the saloon.”

  “Oh, go on. She’s only the schoolteacher. Though I must say she’s pretty enough to do just about anything she wants.”

  “They’re one in the same, and unless I miss my guess, she’s the reason for all this fancy furniture.”

  Chapter 19

  Ginny’s eyes suddenly glowed with excitement “Find Cord and get him in here as quick as you can. Then you take every cowboy on the place and get them away from here. I don’t want one of those bumpkins stumbling in complaining about some cow just when he’s about to pop the question. Where is Cord anyway?”

  “He should be coming through the back door any minute,” her spouse informed her.

  “Lord have mercy, and you letting me stand here just as useless as yourself. Get out the front door, and don’t show your face until Miss Smallwood’s gone.” Frank dutifully let himself out while his wife hurried to a closet under the stairs where she extracted a heavy coat and driving gloves. Then, alternately tapping her foot impatiently and pacing the broad hall, she waited until she heard the back door open. She quickly erased the smile from her face, replaced it with a look of mild concern, and pounced on Cord the instant he stepped into the hall.

  “There you are, and not a minute too soon. I’ve been fretting over whether to go and leave you to guess where I’d gone.” Ginny hurried on before Cord could open his mouth. “My sister has fallen and hurt herself, or something like that, her Jim wasn’t explaining things too clear, and there’s someone to see you in the parlor.”

  “Who is it?” Cord asked when she paused for breath.

  “The schoolteacher, I think, but I was too distracted to pay much attention.” She hurried out of the h
ouse intending to keep him from asking any more questions, but Cord had forgotten Ginny before her sentence was finished; he hurried into the parlor where he was greeted by Eliza turning apprehensively toward the doorway.

  “Eliza,” he said in a husky voice, and crossed the room in five strides. Eliza rose to her feet in time to be swept into his arms and ruthlessly kissed.

  “There’s something I’ve got to tell you,” she protested, trying to avoid his ravaging lips.

  “It can wait.” He pressed his hot mouth to the pulsating column of her throat.

  “No it can’t,” she insisted, pushing him away. “Two men have been found dead, and everybody thinks you did it. They may be coming out here this very minute.”

  Cord stopped abruptly. “Who were they? When did it happen?”

  “Simon Frater and someone named Keller.”

  “Harry?”

  “I think so. They found one of them last night and the other this morning. Both were shot in the back.”

  “But why do they think I did it?”

  “One was found on the road that runs west of your land. The other somewhere to the south.”

  “So if they were killed close by, I must have shot diem?”

  “I guess so, but it doesn’t matter. There are a lot men at the, saloon drinking and talking about how something’s got to be done to protect the little people.”

  “They’re going to have to look for someone else to blame this time,” he said with a deep frown. “I can prove I didn’t do it.”

  “But they won’t believe you or your men. They say they’d all lie to protect you.”

  “Probably not every one of them.” Cord smiled so brilliantly Eliza’s heart skipped a beat. “But this time they won’t have to. I was in Cheyenne with two perfect strangers who can swear to my whereabouts for the last week.”

  “Are you sure they will listen to you? They are mighty upset, and some of them swear you must be behind it.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “And if they come out here?”

  “They won’t. The sheriff and Sanford Burton both know where I’ve been.”

  “Then you’re really safe?”