by Jodi Thomas
A groan came from the bed. Reality stabbed through the cocoon of desire that had wrapped around them.
She stepped back quickly, turned, and went to the bed. He remained where he was, his body afire.
“Liz?” McGuire’s voice was barely a whisper, broken with pain.
“Papa, I’m here. I’ll get you some more laudanum.”
She knelt beside her father and Seth heard the love and concern and tenderness in her voice. That struck him as deeply as her passion a moment earlier.
“No,” McGuire said, then his pain-filled gaze moved to Seth.
“Who . . . ?” His voice broke off as if he could not manage another word.
“Seth Sinclair. He took out the bullet yesterday. The doctor said he saved your life. He also rescued me the day before.”
“Sinclair?”
“Yes.”
“He . . .”
“He’s a good man, Papa,” she said.
“Tell him . . . to come close,” McGuire said.
Seth stepped closer and looked down at the man who had benefited from the theft of his land.
McGuire strained to lift his good arm and held out his hand for Seth’s. “Thank you,” he said simply. “For Liz, thank you.”
Seth took it. Any number of emotions ran through him. And out of him. Bitterness faded. So did any desire for revenge.
McGuire loved his daughter. Elizabeth loved her father.
And I love Elizabeth.
The thought flashed through his mind with the impact of a cannonball.
He tried to dismiss it. It was the circumstances. He’d been lonelier than he’d thought. He’d been without a woman’s touch too long.
It’s been too short a time. Love doesn’t happen like that.
He had to get out of here before he made any more of a fool of himself.
He nodded his acknowledgment of McGuire’s thanks and stepped back. “I have to go before someone wakes up. Do you have any protection here? Besides that?” he asked, glancing over at the gun.
“Howie is here. He’s in the barn.”
“I won’t be back for a while. There are some things I need to do. If you need anything send Howie to Abe at the saloon in town. He’ll know where to find me.”
“You’re going to try to stop what’s happening?” she asked on a shuddering sigh. “To the other ranchers. To you.”
He said nothing as he stared at her, taking one last look . . . for a while. Just a while.
“I want to see Marilee for a moment,” he said.
She nodded and led the way to the small bedroom at the end of the hall. She opened the door, and he looked inside.
His sister was curled up in a ball, a light covering over half her body. Her arm was around a sleeping puppy.
He went over to the bed and pulled the sheet up over her thin body. He hesitated, wanting to lean down and touch his lips to her forehead. To hug her. But that might wake and frighten her. Instead, he locked the picture of her into his mind.
Elizabeth was standing just outside the room. “I will take good care of her.”
“I know that.”
“Be careful,” she said softly.
“I’m hard to kill. And find.”
“I’ll still worry.”
“Doc or Abe will keep you informed.”
“The doctor doesn’t like me.”
“He’s just a cautious man, Elizabeth.”
“Liz,” she corrected.
His heart tugged again. He sensed that no one called her that but her father and Marilee. She’d just torn down a barrier.
He wondered whether he could tear down his as well. He wondered whether he could ever be whole again. He hadn’t told Elizabeth that, like Marilee, he had nightmares. His were about the killing fields, about the boys he had killed, the friends he had lost in a nightmare called war.
He touched her cheek. “Be wary of Delaney.”
She nodded, her eyes fearful but not, he knew, for herself. For him.
He left.
The guards were still trussed when he checked on them, though two were awake and struggling. He tapped them on their heads again. He didn’t want anyone following him.
Then he retrieved Chance, mounted, and rode toward their canyon.
ELIZABETH’S father was better the afternoon after Seth’s predawn visit, though still in a great deal of pain. He refused to talk about his heart condition, closing his eyes in pretended sleep when she tried to broach the subject.
A sense of loss had filled her the moment Seth had left. It would be there until he returned again. It was made more difficult by the fear she had for her father.
Howie appeared at the door of the bedroom. “The major is here,” he announced flatly.
He didn’t like Delaney either. Delaney had always treated Howie dismissively, even with contempt. Elizabeth had never understood how her father tolerated it.
She and her father exchanged a glance. He knew her suspicions now. He hadn’t agreed, but neither had he argued about it.
Howie had barely made his announcement when Delaney shouldered his way inside.
“What happened last night?” he said angrily.
“Other than more of our cows being rustled?” she said tartly.
“My men were attacked and tied up.”
“Where?”
“Here, dammit. I want to know what happened.”
“I didn’t even know they were here,” she said. “You should have informed me you were finally taking our requests for protection seriously. They must not have been the most competent of men, though, if they allowed themselves to be taken while what’s left of our cattle was being rustled.”
His face mottled in anger. “He was here yesterday.”
“He?”
“Sinclair. I want to know where he is now.”
“I have no idea. He did not confide in me. In truth, he doesn’t care much for us. Claims we stole this land. Still, he did help Papa.”
His face got redder. “My men were watching for him. He must have returned last night.”
“I thought your men were here to protect our cattle,” she said with surprise in her voice. “And why on earth would Mr. Sinclair visit us last night?”
Delaney shoved past her to her father’s bed. “Michael, where is he?”
Her father shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean. I have been sleeping. Laudanum, you know. And if my daughter says he wasn’t here, then he wasn’t. She doesn’t lie.”
Delaney eyed both of them with disgust. “You aid him and you’re as much a criminal as he is.”
“A criminal?” she asked. “What did he do?”
“He attacked my men.”
“Oh, they saw him then?”
He stomped to the door. “If you see him . . .”
“I’ll send Howie immediately,” she said. She very consciously did not add the two words, for you.
He slammed the door behind him.
She turned back to her father, who looked stunned. Delaney had always been smooth and charming around him.
“That’s the real Delaney,” she said.
Chapter Twelve
SETH STAYED AT the hideout, going out at dusk with his brother and the other three men who rode with him. Each night they gathered a few more animals, herding them back into the valley.
Information was coming from newly hopeful ranchers. They spied on the army details and reported to Abe. Abe’s son reported to someone else who, in turn, met Colorado at a specified place. If cattle were sold or rustled, Seth knew about it nearly immediately, and the cattle were quickly liberated before anyone could change the brands.
Five days after McGuire’s shooting, Doc arranged for Seth to meet with the marshal he’d mentioned. They met at the home—the old Keller place—Abe had offered him. As far as either Doc or Abe knew, Delaney was unaware that Seth used it.
Dillon accompanied him partway, then veered off to a position where he could watch the road. If more than
one rider approached, he would fire two warning shots.
Seth hid Chance in a clump of trees half a mile from the ranch house, then found a tree about an eighth of a mile from the house and climbed up into it, found a comfortable perch, and waited.
An hour later, a lone horseman wandered in, dismounted, and sat on the porch of the house. Seth recognized him as the man in the saloon but still he waited thirty more minutes. He had learned to be cautious.
He finally lowered himself through the branches and dropped to the ground, taking his pistol from its holster as he landed.
Aiming it at the lawman, he approached.
The man watched him without blinking. He didn’t stand. He didn’t go for his gun, or the rifle lying on the steps beside him.
“Use your foot to push the rifle off the step,” Seth said.
The lawman obliged and started to stand.
“Don’t!” Seth said.
The lawman settled back down. “Sinclair?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest.”
Seth ignored the comment. “Doc says you’re honest.”
“I try to be.”
“Did he tell you what’s going on around here?”
“Enough to bring me here.”
“The army has authority over civil authorities.”
“That’s true. However, if I bring malfeasance to the army’s attention, they have to acknowledge it. I know who to take it to. If you have proof.”
“I want you to help me get it. Doc says you have your own doubts about Major Delaney.”
“I’ve heard rumors,” the lawman said. He held out his hand. “Tom Evans.”
Seth hesitated. It could be a trick. He would have to switch his pistol from his right hand to the left. There would be a split second . . .
“If I didn’t want to hear you out, I would have men crawling all over here,” Evans said.
“And I wouldn’t be here.”
Evans gave him a thin smile. “I didn’t expect you would. Now, can I stand so we can go inside?”
“I would rather stay out here where I can see.”
“Have it your way. Doc told me some of what he thinks is happening. I want to hear your side.”
Thirty minutes later, Evans rose. “I have about six deputies I trust completely, as well as an officer from headquarters. He doesn’t care for Delaney either. But we have to catch him actually rustling the cattle. He has important friends.”
“When?”
“Four nights from now. Tell me where, and I’ll be there.”
Seth nodded his head in acknowledgment. “It could go wrong, you know. Why are you willing to risk your badge for this?”
“I fought in the war too. Other side. But it’s over, dammit, and I don’t like anyone misusing power for their own gain. That’s not what I fought for. That good enough for you?”
“Good enough,” Seth said.
He watched as Evans mounted and rode out.
He had taken measure of the man and knew Doc had been right.
BEFORE he could leave, Abe rode in.
Gary Simmons had been ambushed while returning from the trip to the bank. He was at Doc’s, badly injured.
Seth knew immediately it was his fault. He had baited Delaney, and Delaney had responded faster than he’d thought.
It was too late to go after the marshal.
“Something else,” Abe said. “Miss McGuire sent a note by Howie.” He held a crumpled envelope in his hand.
Seth took it and read it quickly.
Father improving. He understands what D is doing. He wants to speak to you. Howie says the ranch is still guarded, but he can take care of it tonight.
Seth held it for a moment, inhaled the faint scent of roses. Her scent.
Then he took a match from his pocket, struck it, and burned the note. He did not want anyone to find it on him.
THEY were asleep. Different guards, but just as obviously careless.
Whatever Howie had given them, or done to them, he had done it well.
Seth had waited until dark, then approached his former home. After finding the soldiers asleep, he moved around to the back and went in the window as he had before.
He checked Michael McGuire’s room first, found him asleep and alone, and then checked the other rooms. He found her reading. She was fully dressed, but her hair hung down free, tendrils curling around her face. She was uncommonly appealing.
She looked pleased to see him. “Hello,” she said shyly.
“Hello.” He felt like an awkward schoolboy.
Her smile was blinding.
His heart jumped. His throat constricted.
“How’s your father?” he said after a moment’s pause.
“He is walking now. He still hurts but there’s no infection.”
“His heart?”
“It’s bad. He finally told me about it. It’s why he kept trying to force Delaney on me. A bad husband in his view was better than my being alone. I don’t believe he thinks that now.” She paused. “I heard about Mr. Simmons from Howie.”
He nodded.
“I know you have some kind of plan. My father wants to help. I do, too.”
He sat down then. He had been thinking about canceling the whole plan.
And now she was offering a new opportunity.
He didn’t want to endanger her. Yet both her and her father were in very grave danger already. The last few weeks had shown how much. The McGuires would be perfect to implement the plan. They’d been brought here by Delaney. They had been loyal to the Union. Their motives could not be questioned.
“You and your father could leave Canaan,” he said. “That would be the safest thing for you.”
“I don’t want safe. I want to belong here.” Her chin lifted and her eyes blazed. “Someone tried to kill me and my father. We both want to know who, and why.”
“What about Marilee?” he asked.
“What if she had been with me the day I rode into town? She could have been thrown out of the buggy,” Elizabeth countered. “And you’re not safe until Delaney is gone. Neither you nor Dillon.”
He sat down and took her hand. She was like his mother. Strong and resilient and determined.
“We are putting together a small herd of cattle,” he said. “We put out the word that some local ranchers will take them to San Antonio to sell directly to the army instead of going through Delaney. According to some folks, the army has been paying top dollar for cows Delaney purchased for practically nothing, or that he rustled. He must have forged bills of sale and probably bribed the purchase agent as well. He can’t afford to let the army know what he paid for them. Nor can he afford to let a herd of cattle be offered for half of what he’s been charging the army.”
Her hand tightened in his. “But how—”
“A U.S. marshal is aware of the rumors but hasn’t been able to catch him. We want to offer Delaney an opportunity to rustle cattle. Right in front of the law.”
“Where will you get the cattle?”
“Better you don’t know. No one will be hurt. They will be repaid for their cattle.”
“What can we do?”
“I think I’d better talk to your father.”
EVANS and his men waited in Seth’s former home, in the stand of cottonwoods along the river, and in the barn. Some two hundred cattle lowed and complained in the pasture between the house and the river.
Dillon and Colorado had brought them halfway from the hidden canyon. Morgan Simmons, Knox, John Andrews, and Seth had met them there and drove them on to the ranch. Most had been rustled by Delaney and his men from local ranchers and still wore those brands.
But Seth didn’t want Dillon and his friends involved. They were already wanted for other charges. They had done their part.
After bringing in the cattle, Seth waited with Michael McGuire who sat up in a chair, his arm in a sling. Both of them had pistols at their side. Elizabeth had a shotgun nearby.
Elizabeth had taken Marilee to the Findley home earlier and asked if Marilee could stay the night. It was the one place away from home where she didn’t feel threatened. Elizabeth had told the Findleys that she couldn’t take care of Marilee and her father as well.
Miriam Findley had readily agreed.
Evans and three fellow marshals sat at a window watching. A man in Union blue, a captain, was with them. Their horses were already saddled in the barn.
Seth paced restlessly. Abe had been charged with spreading the news that McGuire had joined the effort to take cattle to San Antonio and they would leave at dawn.
The lights were quenched.
One man, another deputy marshal, leaned against a fence and lit a match. It would appear strange to rustlers if the herd were not guarded.
One hour passed, then another. Elizabeth made coffee and offered the waiting men fresh bread. Seth’s gaze continued to wander back to her.
She was so damnably pretty. And had so much grit. He became giddy every time he watched her. If there had not been so many in the house, he would repeat their kiss, want more, so much more. If they weren’t caught in this conflict, he’d ask for more.
But they were not alone . . . and they were fighting for their lives.
And after this . . .
After this he didn’t know.
He still had to clear his brother. He had to earn a living. . . .
“Someone’s coming,” one of the marshals said in a low voice.
Both Evans and Seth went to the window and peered out.
Figures on horseback began to move toward the cattle.
“You stay out of it now,” Evans told Seth. “Take care of these folks and let the law deal with Delaney.”
Evans and his men slipped through the same back window Seth had used. Just then the barn door opened, and three more marshals emerged on horseback, each holding the reins of two saddled horses. Seth watched from the house as the marshals mounted the horses just as a gunshot started the cattle running.
He wanted to be with them. But the marshal was right. Better to let the law take care of Delaney so that no false charges could be made later.
More shots rang out. Seth saw one horse go down with its rider, and another rider fall. Cattle stampeded. Minutes went by, then more. Shots grew more distant.