Everything was wonderful, except the wrong man sat next to her.
“Do you know what you want?” Morgan asked, his warm gaze searching hers.
She felt a tinge of guilt, wishing the man who rode all the way to town was someone else. “The rabbit fricassee. And you?”
Morgan grinned. “A steak and sourdough cornbread. I’ve heard it’s real good here.”
“I’ve had it, and yes, it is good.” Setting down the menu, Sylvia picked up her wine glass, taking a sip. She had the oddest urge to pick up the bottle in the middle of the table and drink it down without regard for the consequences tomorrow.
Thomas took their orders and poured more wine into their glasses before leaving them alone. Morgan rested back in his chair, his glass held between strong, tanned fingers.
“Do you enjoy working at the general store?”
Her shoulders relaxed, a smile touching her lips at his easy question. “Very much. Mr. Petermann lets me do much of the bookwork, ordering, and organizing the products when they arrive. The pay is fair, and he allows me time off when needed. I can’t imagine another job I’d like more.”
He seemed to consider her answer, his gaze narrowing. “Does that mean you plan to stay in Splendor?”
“For now. I’d like to be here through a full winter. I’ll make a decision in the spring, after I’ve been in Splendor a year. It wouldn’t be fair to Lena and the others who paid for our travel to leave before then.”
Morgan nodded. He’d heard of the local women who’d brought the four mail order brides to Splendor. None had married, although he’d heard Caleb might have an interest in May Bacon. As a bachelor with little time to search for a bride, Morgan welcomed the arrival of the young women. His gaze moved to the entry, eyes widening a little.
“It appears your brother will be having supper here as well.”
Sylvia shifted in her chair, looking over her shoulder to see Dominic walk into the restaurant. Her mouth dropped open, noticing the woman on his arm—Tabitha. Setting her napkin on the table, Sylvia stood, a sparkling smile greeting the two when they stopped by the table. Morgan rose to stand next to her.
“Good evening, Syl.” Dominic kissed her cheek, turning toward Morgan and extending his hand. “Hello, Morgan. This is Tabitha Beekman.”
Accepting the outstretched hand, he nodded at both. “Good evening, Dominic, Miss Beekman.” He’d seen her working in the boardinghouse several times. “Would you care to join us?”
Sylvia sent her brother a pleading glance, hoping he’d accept.
Dominic understood the look in her eyes. “If we wouldn’t be intruding…”
“Not at all.” Morgan stepped aside to let them pass by toward the two empty chairs. While Dominic pulled out Tabitha’s chair, Morgan motioned for Thomas.
Retaking her seat, Sylvia felt a surge of relief. Within minutes of arriving at the restaurant with Morgan, she knew it had been a mistake. Accepting a supper invitation so soon hadn’t helped put Mack behind her.
Instead, the memories of being at the Eagle’s Nest with him overwhelmed her. Inexperienced at being courted, except by one man, she didn’t know how miserable spending time with someone else would be. Maybe it would be different in a few weeks or months. Tonight, she found comfort in having her brother so close.
A commotion at the entrance had everyone in the restaurant turning. Curtis Miller looked around the room, his gaze landing on Morgan. Ignoring the stunned look on the faces of the other diners, Curtis’s face reddened, the cords in his neck rigid. Except for his brother, he didn’t spare anyone else at the table a glance.
“You need to come with me.”
Morgan jumped to his feet. “What is it?”
“We’ve been attacked. At least one of Pa’s cattle was slaughtered and several more missing. He wants everyone at his ranch.” Their father’s property bordered the entire length of the Smith’s, the other two Miller ranches to the west of his.
“Do you think it was the Smiths?”
Curtis rested fisted hands on his hips. “Not sure. Pa sent Buster over to their place. They’d been attacked, too. Eight more from their herd had been slaughtered.”
Morgan rubbed the back of his neck. “Could be they’re retaliating by taking our cattle.”
“Maybe. But this whole thing strikes me as strange.” Curtis let out a frustrated breath. “Buster is over at the jail now. We’re going to need help hunting down whoever is doing this.”
Morgan turned to look down at Sylvia. “My apologies, but I must leave.” He glanced at Dominic. “Would you mind seeing your sister home?”
Standing, Dominic shook his head. “Not at all. Do what you need to do.”
“Let’s go, Morgan,” Curtis growled behind him. “We can ride back with the sheriff and deputies.” He left without a backward glance, uncaring of the spectacle he made by stomping out of the dining room.
Morgan shot another apologetic look at Sylvia before following his brother.
“What was all that about?” Tabitha’s brows pulled together in a frown.
Sylvia saw the same confusion on Dominic’s face. From conversations with Mack, she explained what she knew about the slaughtered sheep, as well as what happened between the Smiths and Millers at the general store. “Many thought the Millers were behind the killings.”
Dominic rubbed his jaw. “It seems they’re being attacked as well. Is there another landowner who’d benefit from ruining both?”
Sylvia shook her head. “I don’t know much about the other ranchers in the area. From what I’ve seen, most get along quite well with each other.”
Dominic’s face sobered. He’d seen range wars and hoped this didn’t escalate into a conflict where men, as well as animals, died. “Well, someone’s behind this. They’d better find out who it is before there are any more killings.”
Caleb stormed into the Wild Rose, his gaze swinging around the room.
“He’s over there.” Al pointed to a table in the corner.
“Ah, hell.” Caleb couldn’t hide his disgust at finding Mack passed out, his head resting on the table, his hat on a nearby chair. Striding to him, he cursed again at what he saw. “How long has he been this way?”
Al scratched the stubble on his chin. “At least an hour. He finished an entire bottle of whiskey after a short conversation with Morgan Miller.”
“Damn,” Caleb mumbled. He’d heard Miller had asked Sylvia to supper. He now regretted not telling Mack about it before he heard it from Morgan. “Do you have any coffee?”
“Not a drop.”
Letting out a breath, he grabbed Mack’s collar, yanking him up in the chair. “I need to get him to the jail. Most of us are riding out and need him there.”
Al chuckled. “He won’t be any use to you. Even coffee isn’t going to help much.” Reaching behind him, he grabbed a pitcher of water, walking around the bar to the table. “Give this a try.”
Grabbing the pitcher from Al’s hand, he poured the contents over Mack’s head, stepping back when his friend jumped up, roaring a string of curses. Staggering, he scrubbed both hands down his face, rubbing red-rimmed eyes before looking around, his hard gaze landing on his friend.
“What the hell, Caleb?”
Snorting, he looked at Al. “It worked.”
Crossing his arms, Al nodded. “That it did.”
Mack started to lower himself back into the chair before Caleb’s hand shot out, gripping his arm to stall his movement.
“We need to get to the jail.”
Mack glared at him, reaching out to steady himself against the table. “What the hell for?”
“Someone went after Norman Miller’s cattle. Killed one and stole several more. The Smiths also lost more sheep tonight. Gabe wants everyone at the jail.”
Shaking his head, Mack nodded. Grabbing his hat, he plunged it onto his soaked hair, grimacing. “This is going to hurt tomorrow,” he mumbled, following Caleb outside.
Chapter Nineteen
>
Sylvia stared at the jail from the window of her bedroom. Dominic had walked her and Tabitha back to the boardinghouse after supper, deciding to check with Gabe to see if there was anything he could do to help.
He returned a few minutes later, knocking on Sylvia’s door. Gabe and most of his men had already ridden off, leaving one of the new deputies and a very drunk Mack at the jail.
Sylvia crossed her arms, a foot tapping on the floor. “Drunk?”
A broad grin spread across Dominic’s face. “Very.”
“What is so funny?”
Chuckling, he sat down on the one chair in her room. “Seems he learned Miller was taking you to supper.”
Her mouth twisted, brows furrowing. “Why would that bother him? He’s the one who called off the courtship.”
“Yep, he is.” Dominic continued to grin.
She glared at him. “Well?”
Holding out his hands, palms up, he shrugged. “Well what?”
“Why would it bother him, Dom? I don’t understand.”
“I don’t have an answer for you, Syl. That’s something you’re going to have to ask Mack.” It wasn’t the complete truth. Dominic had a pretty good idea why the deputy buried himself in a bottle tonight, but he had no intention of sharing his thoughts with his sister.
She lifted a brow. “Was he drunk downstairs in the saloon or upstairs?”
Dominic frowned before understanding her meaning. “Downstairs, Syl. All alone at a table with the empty bottle of whiskey. I wouldn’t want to be him tomorrow.”
Plopping onto the bed, Sylvia let the misery she felt show on her face. “He can be such an idiot.”
“Yes, he can,” Dominic agreed, believing his meaning was a little different than his sister’s. Sitting back, he stretched out his legs, resting his hands in his lap, waiting for Sylvia to say more.
“It’s so hard, Dom.” She stared out the window, not meeting his gaze.
“What’s hard, love?”
She blew out an agonized breath. “I thought having supper with Morgan would help me forget Mack. Instead, I miss him even more.”
Pushing out of the chair, Dominic sat on the bed next to her, settling an arm over her shoulders. “You’re a strong woman, Syl. You traveled across the country, came to a town no one has ever heard of, and made a life for yourself. You enjoy your work and have made many friends. You will get over Mack, love. It may take time, but soon, you’ll wake one morning and realize he no longer owns your heart. That is when you’ll be ready to venture out again. Don’t rush it. Let it come in its own time.”
Leaning into his shoulder, Sylvia sighed. “How do you know all this?”
He let out an amused chuckle. “I was naïve enough to consider myself in love once.”
Pulling back, she stared at him. “You were in love? When and with whom?”
A wry grin crossed his face. “I was seventeen. She was fifteen and new to Whiplash. Her father bought the mercantile and her mother opened the millinery.”
Her eyes widened. “I know who you mean, but I can’t remember her name.”
“Mattie. Well, her real name was Matilda, but she preferred Mattie.”
She leaned back against his chest. “What happened?”
His voice turned cold. “Her father learned of my interest and sent her away to school back east. She never returned before her parents sold their businesses and moved away.”
A few minutes passed before Sylvia spoke again. “Have you never cared about a woman since?”
He rested his chin on the top of her head. “What for when there are so many wonderful women out there for me to meet? Why settle for one when I can have—ow, Syl. What was that for?”
She laughed, having stopped him with a jab to his chest. “I don’t want to hear about all your conquests. I heard enough about them back home.”
Pulling away, he looked down into her eyes, lifting a brow. “People spoke of the women I knew?”
“Don’t seem so surprised, Dom. You’re a Lucero. We were always one of the main topics of gossip in Whiplash. But I believe you were the number one source of good stories. Such as what happened with Mary—”
He covered her mouth with his hand. “Enough, Syl. I do not want to hear what my sister knows of my liaisons.”
Her mouth tilted into an impish grin. “They were quite educational, Dom.”
Groaning, he removed his arm from her shoulders and stood. “On that, I believe I’ll head to the hotel.” Leaning down, he kissed her forehead. “Meet me in the St. James dining room for breakfast tomorrow.”
Her face brightened. “I’d love to.” When he moved to the door, she called his name. “Dom. I’m so glad you’re here.”
A grin lifted the corners of his mouth. “Me, too, Syl.”
“What do you want us to do now, boss?” One of the Miller ranch hands stood in the shadows of the barn, his worried gaze darting toward the house every few seconds.
“Nothing for now. We need to wait for things to cool off, then start up again. No use taking risks at this point.” The tall, lanky man scratched his chin, seemingly unconcerned by the number of lawmen roaming the ranch and Gabe’s many questions.
“They know something’s not right. Sooner or later, they’re going to figure this out.” The ranch hand turned and spat, wiping a sleeve across his mouth. “I say we stop now. It’s going to take a lot more than a few dead sheep and missing cattle to accomplish what he wants.”
“As long as he’s willing to pay us and offer up the land he promised, I plan to keep following his orders. What you do is your decision.”
The ranch hand glared at the man who’d hired him a few years before. He owed him for taking a chance on someone with no experience, except a year fighting for the losing Southern cause. Being a Confederate soldier gave him purpose, a direction in life. Afterward, he’d wandered across several states, never knowing where he’d find his next meal. One hot, dusty afternoon, he’d landed at the Miller ranch, parched and almost starved. Death would’ve claimed him if the grizzled foreman hadn’t taken pity on him.
“I’m with you on this, boss. I know what Miller did to you and sure as hell know it wasn’t right.”
“He’ll get what’s coming to him. All men like Miller eventually do.” He said the words with great conviction. The truth was Buster Maddox no longer believed justice would prevail or a man’s word was his bond. It certainly hadn’t been with Norman Miller.
Hex Boudreaux jostled Mack’s shoulder, shaking his head when he heard the muffled groan. Shaking him again, he jumped back when Mack roared to life and reached for his gun, finding only empty air. Confusion clouded his face as he turned his attention to one of the newest deputies.
“You took it off last night.” Hex nodded to the hook on the wall. “I’m thinking it was a mighty fine decision.” The young man grinned, moving toward the door. “Thought I’d make the rounds. There’s coffee ready. You may want several cups before venturing out.”
Mack sat back in the chair, grimacing at the light streaming through the grimy window. Rubbing his eyes, he cursed himself for being such a fool. He’d known the folly of his ways with each swallow of whiskey. Still, he’d continued, unable to push aside the image of Sylvia with Morgan. His Sylvia.
The smell of coffee forced him to stand. Hex was right. It would take several cups to counteract the damage he’d done the night before.
He’d just taken a sip when the door banged open. Dutch strolled inside, followed by Hex’s younger brother, Zeke. Both men stopped and stared at Mack as if he were some type of apparition.
“Glad to see you’re alive.” Dutch removed his hat, tossing it on the desk.
Mack grunted, taking another sip.
“We were taking bets on if you’d make it or not.” Zeke grabbed a cup, filling it with coffee. “Caleb said he’d never seen you so, well…”
Mack lifted a brow. “Drunk?”
Zeke grinned. “I believe soused is the word he used.”
Dutch opened a drawer in Gabe’s desk, tossing a packet of headache compound toward Mack. “You’re going to need this. Maybe a couple of them.”
He had barely lifted the packet when Gabe, Caleb, and Cash walked in, staring at him with the same expression as Dutch and Zeke. Mack lifted a hand.
“Don’t say it,” he warned. “In fact, don’t talk at all.”
Gabe chuckled, making him feel worse. In all the years he’d known Gabe, Mack had never seen the man drunk or out of control. Then again, he’d probably never done something as foolish as shove the woman he loved from his life.
Mack stilled, the cup partway to his mouth. Love? He shook his head, refusing to believe that was what had lured him to drink an entire bottle of whiskey. And he sure as hell hoped the ridiculous notion of loving Sylvia had only been a remnant of his currently pickled brain.
“Did you find out who killed the animals?”
Gabe glanced at Mack, shaking his head. “No. I have an idea of what’s going on, but no proof.”
Caleb crossed his arms, leaning against a wall. “Tell us what you’re thinking.”
Lowering himself into his chair, Gabe rested his arms on the desk. “Whoever is doing this is close by. I can’t see the ranchers who live near Norman participating in the killings or thefts. The closest ones are the Murtons, and I’ll bet my badge neither Ty nor Gil would ever agree to these intimidation tactics. The families south and west of the Smiths are also sheepherders and friends of Eb and Elija. They wouldn’t do anything to hurt them.”
“Where does that leave us?” Dutch asked.
Caleb rubbed his jaw. “Someone who works for Miller?”
Gabe nodded. “That’s what I think.”
“But you’ve no proof.” Mack finished his third cup of coffee.
“None. I’m going on instinct.”
Zeke leaned a hip against the edge of Gabe’s desk. “I can understand someone working for Miller killing the sheep, but why kill and steal cattle? It doesn’t make sense to me.”
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