Riding West (12 page)

If he wanted anything on earth, it was to crawl right back into bed, settle on top of her lissome and desirable body, and oblige her. He managed to say in a reasonable tone, “I‘ll be back just as soon as I can.”

Even with John bloodied and obviously bringing urgent news, it was damned hard to close the door and walk away. Parker shook his head in resignation as he went toward the kitchen. The powerful effect she had on him in the past was nothing compared to what he felt now that they were lovers. Bewitched, enthralled, captivated—he wasn‘t sure how to classify it, but it was a powerful combination of physical attraction and emotional commitment.

He simply couldn‘t imagine his life without her.

Both his father and John sat at the big table in the kitchen, the sky outside just beginning to show a touch of indigo, but he judged dawn was still an hour away. The comforting sound of the coffee just starting to boil filled the room.

Parker dropped into a chair and leveled a look at his brother-in-law. “I take it you couldn‘t get the idea of waiting by the north pasture out of your head. Looks like the hunch paid off. Is that your blood? Celia would have my head if we didn‘t patch you up right off.”

“Not mine. I don‘t have a scratch.” John had removed his hat and his blond hair was disheveled, a light dusting of a gold beard showing on his lean jaw. There were lines by his mouth that weren‘t usually there. “There were five of them, bold as hell. Rode right past me and started to cut the fence. I killed two of them, but one of them lived long enough to hang Colter out to dry.”

The ranch was just so big, there was no way he could possibly guard every inch of it, so Parker had concentrated on placing men around the best grazing land where he had most of the stock. For whatever reason, John had been certain they would strike at a much smaller herd to the north, and apparently he had been right.

“Too bad he didn‘t live, if he was willing to turn over. Maybe he would have testified in court.”

Parker‘s father said forcefully, “Little good that would have done. The word of one thief against Colter‘s? Not in any court around here.”

“Your father‘s right.” John leaned back a little in his chair, his blue eyes holding an icy resolve. “We‘re going to settle this ourselves. It‘s the only way. After tonight, they‘ll know we‘re fighting back. Colter has an outfit hired to do the dirty work. They stay out of town and out of sight.” He paused, and then added coolly, “It seems you‘ve got a price on your head, Parker. Besides that, the rustler swore Colter was out to ruin you.”

“That lowdown slinking skunk,” his father said through his teeth.

The news wasn‘t much of a surprise, but it still wasn‘t all that wonderful to hear. “Don‘t tell Celia,” he said quietly. “She‘ll think it‘s her fault, and indirectly it probably is. The day we were married I realized just how crazy jealous he is. He looked at her like a hungry wolf looks at a doe.”

“Don‘t I know it.” John‘s mouth tightened into a thin, dangerous line. “He was trailing her like a hound until she finally made it clear she wasn‘t interested. I‘m not sure exactly what she said, but to say he didn‘t take to the rejection kindly is an understatement. We started to lose stock right away in significant numbers. The correlation of those two events sure stuck in my mind, and it was the first time I started to suspect he might be behind the outbreak in thieving.”

“It didn‘t occur to me,” Parker admitted, anger and apprehension clear in his voice. “But I‘ve never liked Rance Colter, and the reaction was strictly from my gut. Maybe I did know deep down he was a sidewinder, but now it is way too personal. I don‘t care so much about him offering money to get someone to kill me, but he wants my wife.” He looked deliberately at his father, and then John. “Let me tell you, he isn‘t getting her, not on God‘s green earth.”

John nodded coolly. “You up for a fight then? Because I‘m going to tell you, this is going to get worse before it gets better, Parker. Luckily, I have an idea.”

He looked at his brother-in-law. “I‘m all ears.”

“Colter buys his loyalty. For a price, let‘s see if we can turn one of his men. It‘ll cost, but it might be worth it if things get more out of hand than they already have.”

Never in his life would it have come to mind to pay a dishonest cowpoke for information, but maybe John was right. He nodded reluctantly. “You know how to go about doing this?”

John said, “Yes, indeed, I do.”

———

Celia settled onto the wagon seat and adjusted her skirts, giving her brother a curious look. “Not that I‘m objecting because I‘m tired of being stuck inside, but why did Parker agree to let you take me to town?”

“Most of the men are out,” John informed her curtly, his blue eyes distant as he climbed up on the seat. “We need supplies and you‘ll be safe enough with Jared, Josh and me, I reckon. Better than at the ranch with only two or three men posted.”

“I certainly should be,” she retorted. “You all are packing enough hardware for a small army. Mind telling me exactly what‘s going on? Parker has been a little tense these past few days, though with him it‘s hard to tell sometimes. His father, too, is suddenly carrying a gun, even inside the house.”

John slapped the reins and they rolled forward. “You know we got trouble with Colter, Celia.”

“I know Parker thinks there could be. I take it you agree.”

“‘Fraid I do.” His hat was pulled low and his profile was unnaturally stern.

It was a lovely day, one of those clear Colorado mornings when the air smelled as sweet and intoxicating as wine, and every brilliant detail of the landscape stood out in jeweled colors. The breeze was spicy with sagebrush, and the touch of it was cool and clean. Celia turned her face into it as they rumbled along, a small trail of dust in their wake.

She would be enjoying herself if it wasn‘t for John‘s grim expression and the fact her two other brothers each rode just ahead, one on either side of the buckboard. “Has something happened I don‘t know about?” She spoke slowly, assessing his reaction. “I mean it, John, you‘d be better off not keeping secrets.”

“Parker doesn‘t want you all upset.”

“I don‘t give a damn what Parker wants.” Celia felt a flicker of annoyance over being treated like some fragile bit of china.

John gave her a level look. “No? Well, if that‘s true, and I suspect it isn‘t, you
should
give a damn. He‘s your husband, and as far as I can tell, loves you enough that he‘d die for you, little sister. Make sure it doesn‘t come to that by taking a few orders now and then. You aren‘t good at it, I know it full well, but you aren‘t stupid, either. This thing is going to get settled one way or the other. Blood is going to be spilled, mark my word. Do as he says, and the chances of it being his go way down. He‘s a levelheaded man in every way except when it comes to you.”

It was a fairly long-winded speech for her middle brother and Celia was taken aback by his vehemence. For a few moments she stared out over the landscape, seeing the brilliant blue of the sky only abstractly. Then she said in a subdued tone, “I‘d die for him, too, John.”

“I bet you would, Celia, but it would be best if it didn‘t come to that.” John had a welcome note of humor in his voice. “I‘ve wondered more than once if Colter realizes just what he‘d be getting if he did manage to make off with you. I don‘t do a lot of gambling, but my money might be on him trying to give you back as fast as possible.”

“Very funny,” she said, but couldn‘t help but give a small laugh.

Her brother sobered. “Actually, I wasn‘t trying to joke about it. I‘m glad you know how to shoot straight, and even more glad you can ride like an angel.”

“Do you seriously think he‘d try something? I mean, I‘m
married
to Parker. He must know he can‘t kidnap me and get away with it.” She still felt disbelief over even the notion of it.

John said with chilling conviction, “All I‘m sure about is that I want to be around when that lowdown coyote is strung up.”

He sat on Diablo and surveyed the swale with a jaundiced eye, seeing the hoofprints where horses had trampled the ground not more than a day or so before. Instead of rage, Parker felt a calculated need for both revenge and justice.

Next to him, his foreman scratched his balding head. “Drove ‘em off toward the east, boss.”

“Yes.” Parker gazed over in the direction his cattle had disappeared. “Okay, Leighton, let‘s bring the rest of the herd down. Even if we have to bring in feed, I want all the West cattle concentrated in as small an area as possible where we can at least attempt to guard them.”

The older man nodded in approval and spit a stream of tobacco juice on the ground. “That‘ll be a mighty big undertaking for the next few days. We‘re talking about thirty thousand head at least.”

“Not as big as it would have been last week. We‘re losing stock right and left.”

“Same amount of land to cover, though.”

“I know it.” He had thousands of acres and animals scattered all over it. “We‘re just going to do our best. If we can get them together, at least we can keep them. As it is, this ranch is easy pickings for those rustlers. They just pick a pasture and take when they want.”

“You got it. I‘ll spread the men out.”

“Make sure they‘re all armed. John Evans is going to town today to stock up on ammunition. That‘ll send a message to Colter sure enough.”

Lean and wizened, with a face weathered to the texture of soft leather, Leighton gave him a steady look. “I‘m glad yer fightin‘ this thing. Me and the hands talked it over and if he‘s really behind this, Colter‘s dealing you a bad hand.”

This wasn‘t exactly news, and Parker felt his lips curve in the parody of a smile. “I agree.”

“He ain‘t going to stop easy. I‘ve lived out here most of my life and seen his kind come and go. Crooked as a rail fence and mean as a snake isn‘t a good combination. On the other hand, he‘s pretty lily-livered, if you ask me, hidin‘ behind hired guns and keepin‘ that big ole spread of his like an armed camp.”

“I know he isn‘t interested in an open fight.”

“His kind never is.” Leighton stared out across the vista and tipped back his hat. “I‘ve seen range wars before. This ain‘t gonna turn out that way, take my word.”

No westerner got to be Cap Leighton‘s age without acquiring some wisdom, so Parker raised his brows, tightening Diablo‘s rein just barely to keep the restive animal still. “No?”

“Nope. Range war takes two sides, and usually neither one of them is entirely wrong or entirely right. This is just really between you and Colter, boss. He‘s thievin‘, lyin‘ and generally fighting dirty because you took the woman he wanted. That ain‘t a range war, that‘s a personal brawl.”

“Maybe so,” Parker agreed grimly, “but in the meantime I have to try and protect my stock, and more importantly, my wife.”

“He won‘t come out in the open.” Leighton spat again, as if in emphasis. “If he goes after her, it‘s gonna be underhanded and sneaky, like a fox creepin‘ into a henhouse. No matter how many guns he has, he isn‘t up to a real battle.”

“I pretty much think he‘s a coward myself, but until he does something—”

“Oh, he‘ll do something.” Leighton nudged his horse with his heel and said over his shoulder, “I‘m just predicting it ain‘t gonna be what you expect.”

———

Her mother-in-law had given her a small list and Celia dutifully picked up thread and two bolts of calico, a bag of salt, and she was in the act of reaching for the sugar when a raised voice drew her attention. She glanced up to see a tall man lurch toward the dry goods, his face drawn into a formidable scowl. He was lanky, and his clothes hung on his bony frame, while a scruffy grazing of whiskers made him look even more unkempt. A dark-haired woman with two children at her skirts and a baby in her arms watched him approach with a completely impassive expression on her face.

It wasn‘t her business, Celia reminded herself, but though Alice Reed might not show any emotion at the approach of her drunken husband, she had gone pale. Celia‘s mother had mentioned Reed had turned up again, like a persistent toothache, and it sure looked like he was hitting the liquor just as hard as ever.

“You don‘t need that, woman.” He snatched a small package of buttons out of Alice‘s hand and tossed it randomly so it fell into a bin of dried beans.

“Your shirts…the children‘s clothes need mended, Harry—”

“I said you don‘t need it. Come on, let‘s go home. I‘m hungry.”

She fumbled in her pocket and produced a crumpled piece of paper. “My list…I haven‘t finished shopping yet…we need coffee, and—”

He cuffed her on the side of the head. It wasn‘t a hard blow, but it wasn‘t gentle either, and she staggered back a little. “Shut up. We‘re goin‘”

One of the children, a little boy with wide eyes and a headful of curly dark hair, began to cry. Immediately the other one began to sob too, but it was clear from how quiet they kept the sound, they‘d learned the hard way not to make too much noise. Mrs. Reed clutched the baby in her arms closer to her breast and looked over to where the proprietor, Tom Delarney, stood behind the counter. Celia had always liked jolly Mr. Delarney, and his plump face wore the same disgusted expression she imagined she had herself. Tom said kindly, “You just leave the list with me, Alice, and I‘ll get the stuff together for whenever you want to pick it up.”

“Thank you.” Alice held out the paper, but before Tom could move to take it, Harold Reed snatched it from her fingers and ripped it into tiny pieces, letting them litter the floor. “We ain‘t made of money. Now move.”

This time he slapped her. Maybe it was harder than he intended and in his inebriated state he couldn‘t judge correctly, or maybe he intended to snap her head back and send her stumbling into the counter.

Either way, Celia didn‘t care. There were a few other customers in the store, some of them men who might have intervened, but she was standing fairly close to the fracas. Without thinking, she moved, suddenly finding herself positioned between Harold and his now bleeding wife. “Touch her again,” she said with lethal sincerity, “and I‘ll see to it you never have any other children, Mr. Reed, for you‘ll certainly be lacking the right equipment.”