Always, Stone

by Nan O'Berry

  Her eyes twinkled. “There was a shooting at the Crystal Dawn.”

  Hearing her words, both men grew still.

  “Was anyone hurt?” Stone asked his tone tense.

  Anna’s eyes grew wide.

  When she didn’t answer, he turned to face her again. His voice stern as he spoke again, “I asked you a question, Anna. Was anyone hurt?”

  She nodded. “Hank was shot in the side. Charity took care of him.”

  At the mention of her name, Stone felt his stomach curl into knots.

  Seeing his reaction, Brett stepped over to him. “Give me your tack. Anna and I will see to the horses. You go and find out if Charity is okay.”

  “Go see father,” Anna suggested. “He’ll fill you in with all the details. I don’t think he wants anyone to go over to the saloon right now.”

  Stone felt the leather being pulled from his hands. Without another thought, he hurried up the steps and into the house.

  “Stone,” Mrs. Hawkins greeted as he moved through the door. Sensing his urgency she hung back.

  “Mr. Hawkins?”

  “He’s in the office. Is everything all right?”

  Stone gave a curt nod and hurried off toward the hallway. He needed to know if Charity was okay. I never should have left her. With each boot step, his movements grew faster. Hitting the door, he swung it open with such force; it bounced off the wall startling the man sitting behind the desk.

  “Stone.” Levi Hawkins put down his pen and stood.

  His breath came in heaps as he stared at the manager of the post. “I need to know.” He took a deep breath even thought his lungs hurt to move. “Is Charity all right?”His heart pounded with each step he took. “Please.”

  Levi came around the desk. “She is fine, son. Sit down, Stone.”

  Relief rushed through him making him nearly giddy. A small smile lifted the corner of his lips. “I-I was worried…” He hesitated.”

  Levi gave a nod. “Sit, Stone, let us talk.”

  Now that his throat could contract, Stone swallowed and took a seat in one of the chairs in front the desk. He waited while Levi took up residence on the corner.

  “You made it to Fort Valor.”

  Stone nodded. “Yes, sir, we did.”

  “And how did you find things?”

  Stone paused to gather his thoughts. “The town,” he began. “Was in an uproar.”

  “Uproar? How so?”

  “According to the gent at the hotel, the hostiles have been running off the reservation to find beef.”

  Levi glanced at the floor. “Not surprising considering there are no buffalo to hunt.”

  “I guess not. But, while we were there, we saw Running Deer, Swift Eagle, and the one known as Coyote.”

  The last name he mentioned brought Levi’s head up with a snap. “Coyote? They were together?”

  Stone nodded. “They were. Both Brett and I thought it strange. The cattle ranchers are angry over the loss of beef. Tensions are running high.”

  For a moment, silence fell in the room.

  Levi let out a deep breath before speaking, “I bet they are. We’ve been warned by the office in St. Joe to arm each rider for a while.”

  “I’m not surprised. The major hinted of that too.” Stone’s brow furrowed. “You met the new major?”

  Levi’s brows arched. “No.”

  “He’s not much older than me. All spit and polish, it isn’t natural for a place like Fort Valor.”

  “I bet not.” Levi stood and moved back toward his chair. He picked up his pen and tapped the map spread across his desk. “Tomorrow, I want you to look at the map and see if you can figure out a safer run.”

  “Yes, sir.” Stone rose. “May I?” he asked to take his leave.

  Levi’s features eased. “Go. Go see your girl.”

  “Yes, sir.” Stone turned and hurried toward the door.

  “Stone?”

  He paused and glanced back over his shoulder to the man at the desk. “Yes?”

  “Be careful. I feel Pierson is up to something.”

  Stone slid his hat on his head. “I will.” Reaching for the knob, he let himself out and hurried toward the front door. The big heavy oak groaned when he opened it.

  “Stone?” Mrs. Hawkins’s voice stopped him.

  “Ma’am?”

  “You leaving?”

  “I’ve got business,” he muttered.

  Her mouth inched upwards. “Tell her hello for me. I’ll save you a plate.”

  “Thanks.” Opening the door just wide enough for him to exit, Stone left the house and hurried toward the Crystal Dawn.

  The long shadows of the afternoon hung over the buildings in the center of town. Even though it was hours from nightfall the music from the piano drew the men meandering through the streets like a siren’s song.

  Stepping to the door, Stone peered over the top of the louvered café doors that hung in the front. A few stood at the gaming tables, others sat near the bar nursing beverages of their choice.

  “If you’re not old enough to go in, kindly move out the way.”

  The gruff voice caused him to step aside and the man in the dark coat shouldered through. Stone watched him walk past Ruby and whisper something in her ear. Whatever the message, she laughed and turned a bright shade of pink. Other girls moved through the crowd, but none of them were Charity.

  Stone pushed through the doorway and moved toward the bar. Resting his elbows on the polished surface, he waited for the bartender to make his way toward him.

  “We don’t got no saparilla here.” The bartender’s insult resulted in a ripple of laughter that flowed down the bar.

  Stone said nothing. He stared back at the man behind the bar. “Beer.”

  The bartender’s eyes widened. “Didn’t think your boss allowed any drinking?”

  “Who said I was drinking?”

  The bartender shrugged and turned to get a mug.

  Stone hooked his boot on the brass rail that ran along the base of the bar and tilted his head so that no one could see his eyes in the mirror, yet he would be fully aware of what was going on around him.

  “Here.” The bartender slid the beer down the bar.

  Stone held out his hand and stopped its progress. The foam sloshed from side to side, only to have a drop leap from the foam and land on his hand. Lifting his hand, he licked it off.

  “Afternoon, Stone.”

  Stone lifted his head and met the saloon owner’s image in the mirror. Seeing no gun in his hand, he turned toward him. “Afternoon.”

  McMasters moved around the bar and pulled a glass from underneath the counter.

  Alert to his every move, Stone kept a careful watch.

  “I see you’re not drinking today.”

  “Nope,” Stone replied.

  McMasters pulled the cork out of the bottle and with a steady hand filled the smaller glass with a neat two fingers worth. “Kind of silly to spend your money on a drink you are not going to finish.” He pushed the cork back into the bottle and lifted the glass, tossing the alcohol to the back of his throat and swallowed.

  Stone waited while the whiskey burned its way down the owner’s throat. “Allows me to stand here.”

  “Standing here. Humph.” McMasters thought for a moment, and then continued, “You are perhaps looking for someone?”

  Stone tilted the mug and stared at the drink before bringing his glance to meet McMasters. “She’s not here.”

  Laiden’s brow arched. He took time to glance around the room before answering, “She’s here.”

  Stone tensed.

  McMasters took note of the pause. “Upstairs, away from everyone.”

  “Why?”

  Laiden’s gaze came back to Stone dark expression. “I like to keep my employees safe.”

  Stone felt the rush of anger. “From who?”

  The saloon owner looked down at the bar before meeting Stone’s cold gaze. “I assume you know what happened a few d
ays ago.”

  He gave a quick nod of his head.

  “Then I don’t need to give names.”

  No, he didn’t. Stone knew who and he was getting his craw filled with the likes of Pierson. Changing his tactics, he replied with, “I want to see her.”

  The side of McMaster’s mouth jerked tight in amusement. “Thought as much.” He pushed back from the bar and in a low voice, he instructed, “Meet me around back. Don’t let anyone follow you.” Laiden moved away leaving Stone alone at the bar.

  He lifted the beer and took a long, hard look in the mirror. Several of Pierson’s men lined the tables. Like him, there were hoping to see someone and he could only wonder who. Putting the beer down, he fished into his pocket and pulled out a dollar piece. Slapping it on the bar, he made sure those around him heard his reply, “Thanks.” Turning on his heel, he walked away.

  Outside, the cool wind hurried his steps. Moving away from the saloon, he waited until he came to the alley way between the bathhouse and the General Store. Slipping into the shadows, he made his way past the well and between the trees that provided good cover over to the saloon.

  His back against the wood, he waited and allowed the stillness to seep in. Nothing stirred. Creeping along the wood siding, he gave a quiet knock on the back door. Drawing his weapon, he waited. The sound of the lock turning seemed to nearly deafen him.

  A crack of light followed and a male voice beckoned him inside.

  Stone entered and then holstered his gun.

  Laiden pulled the door closed and locked it, sliding the key back into his vest pocket. “Follow me.”

  In the semi darkness, Stone followed McMasters as he led him through the back hallway to the stairs that led to the upper floor.

  “I’ll leave you here. You know where to go.”

  Stone nodded. He watched as Laiden moved away, then step by step he made his way upstairs. Moving down the hallway, he passed rooms with the doors opened wide. Clearly, no one was inside. Toward the end of the hall one door sat closed. Stone stopped in front of it and using his knuckles rapped lightly against the wood. “Charity?”

  The lock on the door rattled, then it fell away and in the lamp light, he could see her standing, dressed in that pink gingham.

  “Stone. Oh, Stone.” She sighed as her arms opened.

  He swept into the room closing the door behind him.

  Chapter 5

  Stone.Stone. With each beat of her heart his name resounded in her ears. Her arms encircled his waist and she laid her head on his chest. Beneath the rough cotton shirt, she heard his heart answer hers.

  “Charity, I was so scared.”

  “I’m fine, fine now that you are here.”

  Content to allow him to hold her close, she breathed deep the scents that mixed together to mark him. Cold fresh air, the hint of leather, the faint whiff of campfire and something that was undeniably all male. When she had her fill, Charity pushed back and took a step away.

  His hands slid down her arms until his fingers found hers and intertwined with them as if he were afraid to let go.

  She tilted her head and caught worry in his eyes. “I am fine, Stone.” She squeezed his fingers in reassurance.

  The tense ridge of his shoulders relaxed. “Of course you are.” His gaze swept from hers to look around the room as if for the first time realizing the intimate venue of their meeting. A tinge of red spread across his cheeks and he looked at his boots.

  Charity wanted to laugh. What a contradiction her cowboy turned out to be. Stone had already proven he was tough as nails by riding at neck break speed cross the territory carrying the mail. Still, here he stood, like a child whose innocence had yet to be shattered when it came to the mysteries of womanhood.

  “You,” he paused, then continued, “You are not working today?”

  “No,” she answered with a shake of her head. “McMasters thought after the incident, it might do well to give me a few days off.”

  Stone smiled. “Grab your coat, let’s go for that walk.”

  Charity hesitated. Going for a walk would put her out of the protection of the saloon owner.

  “Charity, is there a problem?”

  It was here turn to glance at the floor before looking back at him. Her eyes focused on the gun he wore strapped to his leg. Her head pondered the question, while her heart murmured, yes; you will be safe as long as you are with Stone.

  “Very well,” she agreed. Moving to the wooden wardrobe, she pulled out a dark grey cloak with a hood. One shake and she lifted it to pull it around her shoulders.

  His hands stopped her. “Allow me.”

  Charity’s heart skipped a beat as she relinquished the cloak and turned her back to him. The wool rustled as it came in contact with her shoulders. The warmth of his hands lent her refuge as he held it against her so that she might have her hands free to fasten the clips. Once done, she turned to face him.

  Stone offered her his arm.

  Despite her bravado, her fingers trembled as she slid her hand across the arm of his sleeve.

  “Ready?”

  She nodded.

  His hand moved over top of hers. “I won’t let anything happened to you, Charity. I promise.”

  With that being said, she allowed herself to be led from the room.

  Stone was not at all surprised to see Laiden McMasters at the back door. A cheroot hung from his lips as he glanced toward them.

  With shoulders squared, Stone walked Charity toward the doorway.

  Laiden stepped away from the door and pulled the rolled tobacco from his lips casting a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. “I see you have decided to go out, Miss Charity.”

  The woman at his side stiffened. “I’m going for a walk with Stone, Mr. McMasters.”

  The saloon owner shifted his gaze. “You know how to use that thing?” He nodded toward the weapon that lay against Stone’s thigh.

  “I do. Some say I’m a pretty good shot.”

  “How good is, pretty good?”

  Stone bristled at the question, but leveled a stare and answered it anyway, “I usually hit a silver dollar, plug center.”

  “Are you afraid to use it?”

  The air filled with tension.

  Stone narrowed his gaze. “Nope.” He waited.

  The saloon owner looked from him to Charity, then back again. “Have her back before dark.”

  Stone gave a nod as McMasters opened the door and they stepped out.

  Walking along the back of the businesses that made up the Main Street of Three Rivers, he felt Charity begin to relax. The further they moved from the saloon the more sure her steps became. By the end of the street, she no longer turned to look back over her shoulder.

  Stone didn’t question her actions. He understood that there might be something more than the shooting itself at play. “Let’s go down by the river.”

  Leading her through the scrub trees that stood like silent soldiers against the rise of the hill, they made their way down the well worn path to the river’s edge. The water spilled over the rocks rushing toward the juncture of the other two streams that made up the Three River’s branch.

  “Why don’t we sit over there?”Charity pointed to the clump of rocks at the base of the Oak tree.

  Stone led her over and she took a seat on one while he rested his hip against another.

  For a moment, they listened to the water.

  Stone broke the silence, “You want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

  Charity glanced at him the corners of her lips turning down. “It’s just the shooting. It was so uncalled for.”

  “Want to tell me what happened?”

  She shrugged. “I suppose you’ll hear about it anyway when you get into the bunkhouse. Pierson and his men came in looking for trouble. Hank stood up in my defense and got shot. I’m just so glad he’s going to be all right.”

  Stone bent down and picked up a rock that was lying at his feet. Tossing it into the air, he caught it
with his right hand and tossed it again. “Pierson,” he spoke in a bitter tone. “He seems to be at the root of all the problems around here lately.”

  Charity drew the cloak tighter around her.

  “What kind of hold has he got on you anyway?”

  “It’s not your problem,” she whispered.

  Stone pushed away from the rock and stepped over toward the river. He stared at the horizon, then bent down and picked up a rock. Heaving it up and then catching it with the same hand he tried to remain calm. Usually slow to anger, her refusal to explain seemed to push his buttons. Winding his arm up, he let the rock go and watched as it skimmed across the water. Letting out a deep breath, he turned toward her.

  “It’s my problem because I care about you, Charity. I want to get to know you better. I can’t do that if we’re keeping secrets from each other.”

  “It’s nothing. He’s just a bully.”

  Stone placed his hands on his hips and shook his head. “You know I don’t believe that.” He motioned his head toward town. “I saw the look on McMaster’s face. He’s afraid for you. Do you think he’d ask me if I was afraid to use my gun if he thought for one minute Pierson wouldn’t stop at anything to shut you up.”

  Charity blanched.

  Stone dropped his arms to his sides as he marched toward her. “Look at me, Charity. I – I have feelings for you. Deep ones. I think the least you could do is tell me what’s going on.” He stared down into her emerald eyes and watched them fill with tears.

  “I’m afraid,” came her whispered answer.

  Stone moved to the spot beside her and sat down. Slipping an arm around her shoulders, he drew her close. “We’re all scared, Charity. There isn’t any security out here. Life is hard. Death is something we cheat daily. But if you don’t let someone help you, he’s going to win.”

  Her head pressed against his shoulder. “I’m scared, Stone.”

  “I know. I’ve got you, Charity. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  She took a deep breath.

  Stone sat quietly and waited for her to begin.

  “My father was a farmer, did you know that?”

  Stone shook his head and watched her lift her lips in a smile at the memory.

  “We came west to begin a new life. My momma took sick after the baby died. Poppa promised her everything in hopes that she’d live.” Charity gazed across the river to the other bank. The breeze pulled a few strands of the dark ebony hair from beneath her hood. “She didn’t.”Her voice took on a melancholy tone. “The doctors said it was milk fever, but I think she died of a broken heart. Poppa, he kept right on moving. He took a job near Natchez on a steamboat, working the coal and helping with the cargo. It gave me time to wander around the boats and watch the shows.”