by Linda Broday
Violet was shaking uncontrollably. “Daddy! Where are you?”
Clay ran and scooped her up. “It’s okay, baby girl.” He glared at Montana. “What happened?”
“Violet was finding her way toward me and her stick accidentally hit this piece of filth. He grabbed her arm and swung her around, cursing.” Montana put away his gun. “I shot his ass. No one hurts this child. Or Miss Tally. No one.”
Thompson lay frozen, his hand curled around his gun, Tally’s wanted poster sticking from his pocket.
Thank goodness Violet couldn’t see, but Clay hid the handbill from Tally. Anger raced through Clay. How many times in life would Violet and Tally have to confront danger? How many times would they narrowly miss death?
Clay laid a hand on Montana’s wide shoulders. “Thanks. I’d have done the same and not wasted a second.”
Ridge’s long strides brought him over. He took one look at Thompson. “He’s the bounty hunter I saw in Tascosa.”
“He’s no threat to Tally now.”
Tally raced from the dugout in a panic. “What happened?”
“Ain’t nothing that I couldn’t take care of, Miz Tally.” Montana gave Thompson a kick. “Reckon we’ll have to bury the ugly bastard now.”
Clay explained the situation and Tally took Violet’s hand. “Let’s wash your face with some cool water, honey.”
Water had started the whole mess. The sad-looking piebald stood, his head drooping down, about to fall over. Clay lifted the reins and led the animal to the water tank. It appeared they had themselves another horse, assuming the gelding could recover.
And how many others like Thompson would come looking for his wife?
* * *
Over the next two weeks, Tally often glanced at her reflection in a mirror and tried not to think about how scarred she might be when the bandage came off. If only she had smooth skin like Rebel’s, and her beauty. She yearned to be pretty for Clay.
Sometimes the burning, horrible pain of the removal process brought tears to her eyes. The one thing she couldn’t get out of her mind was the possibility that she couldn’t have a child with Clay. Each day, she drank the teas and milk thistle, praying that her body would heal.
She’d begun rising before dawn and sitting in the cool breeze, clearing her mind and focusing on measured breaths, and it helped. She felt more settled inside.
Early one morning before the sun came up, Tally was enjoying the peace of milking the goats when she spied movement in some brush near the town’s entrance. She yanked the Colt from the holster. Tarver had come back.
The figure stood. She noticed the woman’s dress and relaxed, putting the Colt away.
The visitor kept to the brush and made her way to the side of the dugout where Josie slept. Tally hurried to catch her before she knocked on the door.
“Can I help you?”
The young woman turned. “Tally, I hope you’ll forgive me but I had to bring news.”
“Alice, what’s wrong?”
“Hester went back to Creedmore and tried to get a little girl out. Shooting started and the girl was killed. I didn’t even know her name.” Alice put a trembling hand to her eyes.
“And Hester?”
“She got shot but made it back all right. The bullet went through her arm clean and we’re doctoring her.”
Tally put her arms around Alice. “Thank goodness. When you go back, tell Hester no more rescues. It’s too dangerous. I’ll be going to Creedmore soon. It’s time to free the rest.” But she couldn’t ride until Josie got up and around.
A noise came from behind. Tally drew her gun and whirled, coming face-to-face with Rebel. From the look in Rebel’s eyes and the heaving of her chest, she’d heard. “What are you doing here?”
“I was going into the dugout and heard voices. Who is your visitor?”
“It doesn’t matter. Pretend you didn’t see her.” Tally pressed the gun to Rebel’s chest and leaned close. “One word and I’ll kill you.”
“Tally, if I wanted to turn you in, I’d have done it by now.” Rebel gave a short laugh. “That five hundred dollars would give me a good start at a new life. But even as much as I want Clay, I can’t. I don’t have to wonder anymore if you have what it takes to kill. My reason for keeping quiet wasn’t that though.” She paused a few seconds, then her eyes met Tally’s. “We’re living on the edge of civilization out here. Men outnumber us ten to one and most of them take what they want and ride on. Us women have to stick together to survive. We’re all each other has. And...I kinda like you.”
Shock rushed through Tally and she wondered if something was wrong with her hearing. Rebel had just confessed to liking her. Had she read the woman wrong all this time? She exchanged a glance with Alice.
“I’m relieved that you’re not after the money.”
Rebel gave a soft snort. “I tried to hate you. I really did. I was eaten up with jealousy and how I wanted Clay. But I see now that he only has eyes for you.”
Tally smiled and touched Rebel’s arm. “He’s still your friend. That will never change. He owes you his life. I owe you too. Thank you for doctoring him.”
“I just did what needed to be done.” Rebel turned to leave.
Tally stopped her. “Do you think we could be friends?”
Rebel glanced down, then back up. “We already are, Tally.”
“Do you think you can help me look prettier for Clay when I get this bandage off?”
“Shoot, you don’t need my help. You’re already pretty, and Clay thinks so too, but sure. I’ll be happy to if you’ll help me get the sort of clothes a normal woman should wear.” Rebel returned her smile and stuck her arm through Tally’s. “Let’s get some breakfast. Alice looks like she can use some.”
Twenty-five
Josie and the baby slowly improved. It was a joy for Tally, a week later, to see the little family finding sunshine in their lives again after such a close brush with darkness.
She found Josie sitting outside with the babe one warm afternoon, watching the men work. “It’s really nice to see you regaining your strength.” Tally pulled up a chair. “I confess there was a point when I wasn’t sure if you’d live to see another dawn. Or the little one, either.”
“That Dr. Mary is something, isn’t she?” Josie grinned. “I think she has Dr. Jenkins at the Lone Star ranch beat, and that’s saying a lot. Of course, I’d never tell him that.”
“She’s very smart.” Tally reached for the baby, her tiny body swaddled in layers of blankets. “May I?”
“I would love it.” Josie handed the child over.
“She’s growing like a little dandelion.” Tally cradled the babe next to her, enjoying the scent of the sweet girl.
“We’re leaving tomorrow morning. Luke and I are returning to the Lone Star with our daughter.” Josie’s quiet words pierced Tally. She’d loved having them nearby, and Josie was like the sister she’d never had. “Do you have to go so soon?”
“Yes. We’ve been here far longer than we thought we’d be. The buildings are completed except for finishing the insides. Luke has to work his land and help Houston and Stoker with the fall branding. We also have to take care of all the letters that have piled up while we’ve been gone.” Josie chuckled. “You’d never know this bride service was so demanding. And Stoker needs to see his new granddaughter.”
“You’ve got to give her a name soon, Josie. We need something to call her.”
“Well, actually we have. Here comes Luke now. We’ll tell you together.” Josie watched her husband stride toward them, her face glowing with love.
Luke stopped next to them, removed his hat, and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Don’t overdo it, querida.”
“I won’t. We’ll go inside and lie down in a minute.” Josie took his hand. “I wanted you to be here when I tell Tally wha
t we’ve named our daughter.”
A teasing grin lit up his tanned face. “Oh, you mean Delilah May?”
“Hush now and do it right,” Josie scolded with a pretty smile. She turned to Tally. “Her name is Elena Rose.”
“That’s lovely and very fitting.” Tally lifted the blanket covering the little head full of dark hair. “Hello, Elena Rose. You have a real pretty name now.”
The baby yawned and stretched. Thanks to the frequent feedings, she’d started to fill out.
Tally glanced up. “I take it the names are significant to you.”
“Elena was my mother’s name.” Luke reached for Josie’s hand, his dark gaze softening. Time ticked by with the married couple locked in a world of their own.
Finally, Josie broke the connection, turning to Tally. “And the Rose part came from two places. It was the name Luke gave me when I lost my memory, and it was also my mother Sable’s middle name. I think it’s perfect.”
“Me too.” Tally stared toward the working men, quickly singling Clay out by his broad shoulders and lean waist. No one had a figure like quite like his. Tingles danced up her spine.
“I’m glad this name business is settled.” Luke bent to kiss his wife. When he straightened, he wore a mischievous smile. “Course, I’m still partial to Delilah May.”
“You’re just a big tease.” Josie playfully slapped at him. “Go back to work.”
Tally watched their exchange with a grin. It was great to see them so lighthearted and to see Luke’s ready smile again. The conchos running down the legs of his black trousers flashed in the sun as he strode back to the men.
Josie stretched. “When will Dr. Mary remove the bandage, Tally? I want to see what it looks like.”
“I peeked.”
“And?”
“It’s as black as a piece of coal. I think it’s about ready to come off.” Tally touched her bandage. “I just pray it doesn’t look horrible forever. I want to look pretty for Clay. You know?”
“He’ll be happy however it looks.” Josie turned toward the men. “Clay thinks you’re the most beautiful woman on earth and nothing will change that. I’ve seen the way he stares at you.”
“We’re two lucky women, aren’t we, Josie?”
Her friend’s words were soft. “That we are.”
“Rebel has agreed to help me look better after we remove the bandage.” Tally winked. “I think she knows a few tricks to hiding blemishes. She seems to think I’m pretty. Lord knows, that would take a miracle.”
“You two are friends now?”
“We certainly are, and I’d say it’s about time. She’s not as bad as she pretends to be, and we need each other.” Movement to their left drew Tally’s attention.
Josie and the babe weren’t the only ones on the mend. Montana was out and about, sunning on a bench outside the sod house he lived in, the shooting forgotten. It was no surprise to Tally to see Violet beside him. The girl and the outlaw had become attached at the hip. In fact, Violet had become the little town angel. Even Jack had made peace, of sorts, with Montana, because Violet had asked him to. Tally pitied anyone who tried to hurt that child. The men would deal with them before they could spit good.
Tally was grateful for the extra eyes and ears, because Violet kept them all on their toes. Her gaze moved across the rest of the town that she loved.
Rebel stood in the door of her barbering tent and waved. Tally hollered for her to join them and she started over.
The day had been a busy one. Tally closed her eyes and relaxed, soaking up the rays. She felt like a fat cat on a windowsill.
If it wasn’t for the surety that Slade Tarver wouldn’t give up on finding her, she’d let this moment of tranquility wind around her heart and seep into her soul.
Would they be ready when he—and others—came?
Though Clay had tried to say that the dead man was just someone on the run, his guarded expression said he hid the man’s real purpose for coming. Something in his voice didn’t ring true. Was Thompson a bounty hunter?
A warning shot rang out and she jumped to her feet. Bullet, dozing beside her chair, leaped up and bounded toward the opening to the town, barking furiously.
Trouble seemed to have found them again. Despite all the men around with guns, her heart hammered. Had Slade and his cronies returned? She jerked her own gun from the holster around her waist, her gaze narrowing, searching for the source of danger.
Clay and the others ran toward the front opening with guns drawn. A lone woman wearing a man’s Stetson rode into the compound and stopped in front of Clay. Tally relaxed and put away her Colt. Her skirt slapped her legs as she hurried to join the group.
“I need Clay Colby.” The woman’s striking voice carried to Tally. “I was told I could find him here.”
Tally’s breath caught. What did she want with Clay? Was this yet more trouble?
“Who sent you?” Clay slid his gun into his holster and stepped forward.
“A man named Brannick.” The woman squinted into the sun. “Name’s Susan Worth.”
“What do you want?” Clay helped her dismount.
“Justice.” The word shot out like a silver bullet.
The years had been kind to Susan. Her face was smooth except for a few lines around her mouth and eyes, but a smattering of gray in her dark hair spoke of the late-thirties range. Tally moved closer and saw the hardness in Susan Worth’s eyes. Something bad had to have happened to send her to find Clay.
“What is it, Mama?” Violet slid her trembling hand into Tally’s.
“Just a visitor—a woman. No cause for alarm, sweetheart.” Tally took in Susan Worth’s clothes. Her riding dress had cost some money, as well as the boots and dove-gray Stetson she wore.
“Is he here, or am I wasting my time?” Susan asked.
“Depends on what you want him for.” Clay reached for her horse’s reins.
“To hire. Three men rode onto our ranch, shot and killed my husband and sons, set fire to the house, stampeded our cattle.” Susan pushed back a lock of hair with her trembling hand. “I survived by hiding in the hay loft. Luckily, our two ranch hands were out in the pasture.”
“Did you try the local law?”
Tally respected Clay for being cautious. They had to be. But neither could they be cruel. To send her away might be tantamount to killing her. Her heart told her to trust.
Drawing in a deep breath, she pushed her way through the wall of men, gently taking Susan’s arm. “Enough questions for now, Clay. Can’t you see how exhausted she is? This woman needs some water and something to eat as well, if I’m guessing. She can tell you more in a bit.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I’m obliged.” A weary smile flitted across Susan’s face.
“I’m Tally…Tally Colby.” She met Clay’s eyes and laid her hand on his leather vest. “Everything will be all right.”
But would it? Or would Susan Worth lead Clay into a dangerous situation that he might not walk away from?
Twenty-six
Though Clay chafed at the delay, he gave Susan Worth time to eat and gather herself before he strode to where she sat with Tally and Violet. He didn’t want to make things more difficult for the woman. Lord knew she’d been through hell. But he needed to find out why his old friend Brannick had sent her here. Why hadn’t he helped her himself? Brannick was more than capable.
He sat down next to Tally. “How are you feeling, Mrs. Worth?”
“Better, thank you. I’m ready to answer the questions you have. The sooner I tell you, maybe the sooner you can ride after the killers. If you’ll accept the challenge.” Although Susan’s chin quivered, she met his gaze and straightened her spine, clutching a lacy handkerchief with a trembling hand. “I apologize. My grief is still fresh.”
“Before I answer your question, answer mine. Why didn’t
Brannick take out after them himself? He’s more than capable.”
Tally rose and took Violet’s hand. “Excuse us. You need some privacy and we have to water the garden.”
“Good idea, darlin’.” Clay kissed Violet’s cheek. “See you in a minute.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
Susan watched them go. “You have a beautiful family, Mr. Colby. Keep them close before trouble snatches them away.” She gave a weary sigh. “To answer your question, Brannick was shot a week ago. He’s bedridden for now. He told me not to tell anyone I was coming here and to make sure I wasn’t followed.”
Brannick shot? By who? Clay stared toward the corral, recalling the last time he’d seen him and the drink they’d had over talk of going straight. “He’s a good man and a friend. What happened?”
Susan’s voice was low. “Bank robbers shot him as they were fleeing Eagle Springs. They killed the sheriff as well, which is why I couldn’t go to him about my problem. And the nearest U.S. Marshal is in Oklahoma Territory, tracking down a gang of murderers.”
“I understand.” Clay rubbed the back of his neck. Dammit, that left him to deal with things, and he didn’t want the job. Having a wife and child to love and protect had changed things. “Did you recognize the man who killed your husband and sons?”
“Better than that, I have a name—Tarver. Slade Tarver. Two men were with him.”
Clay’s breath stilled. Dammit! The man kept popping up everywhere, like the devil he was.
“Do you know him?”
“He’s got a bullet of one of my men in him, ma’am.”
“That’s why he shot my boys. He was dragging his leg and could barely walk. He wanted our wagon and was going to make my son drive him and the others to Stephenville. My Carl argued with Tarver, and when Carl pulled a gun, they shot him and Ben, then turned the gun on my youngest. I’ve never seen such rage. They started burning everything in sight—except for the barn. They would’ve burned it if sounds on the road hadn’t spooked them.” Susan’s hand trembled. “I was sure they’d find me.”