Texas Homecoming (10 page)

“That’s all he said?”

“Should there have been more?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see him after he changed sides. The official report said he’d been killed.”

“He said he didn’t get a scratch the whole time.”

Cade thought of his twenty-four comrades dead because of Laveau’s treachery. The rage he kept banked inside flared up so hot he couldn’t answer Pilar.

They reached the camp. “Get ready for a stampede,” Cade said. “Every man out there will want the first cup of coffee.”

*          *          *

They worked like dogs for the next four days. The cows were wild, strong, and determined to avoid the branding iron and the knife. All the men were fine horsemen, but their work during the war had been very different from this. Staying in the saddle continuously for three days might have driven them to the point of numbing exhaustion, but it hadn’t been the brutal, muscle-tearing, sinew-straining work of wrestling full-grown cows and bulls to the ground one after another, day after day. The work took a savage toll on their bodies. Their bruises got bruised. Dirt and sweat worked their way into small cuts, making them sting and burn under the hot sun until tempers turned savage. It seemed every living plant in the desert had poisonous thorns that punctured their skin, causing swelling, cussing, a lot of groans, and a few yells when Holt removed them. At night they fell into bed too tired to care that they were filthy and fit only to be in the company of each other.

Cade decided they would take a few days off before rounding up more cattle. Tempers as well as bodies needed rest. They had been working most of the morning without uttering an unnecessary word to each other. To the cows, however, their conservation had been steady, loud, filled with precise descriptions of how they’d like to cut the offending animals apart, bit by bit. Cade would have sworn Rafe actually enjoyed wielding the knife.

The situation had become so strained and the working conditions so uncomfortable due to the heat, flies, and smell that Pilar had taken to staying at the house, only appearing to bring fresh coffee at regular intervals. Cade could tell she’d redoubled her efforts to cook meals that would nourish their exhausted bodies. What they needed was more hands.

Ivan Nikoli had arrived two days earlier. A Polish nobleman
who’d served in the war as a mercenary rather than a partisan, he didn’t know anything about cattle, but he was a genius on a horse. He’d quickly learned how to cut an animal from the herd. Owen’s wound was healing rapidly, but his temper was getting worse. Cade kept him away from Pilar, which made him even angrier.

“Time to saddle some fresh horses,” Cade called to Owen, Holt, Broc, and Rafe when he saw Pilar approaching with a fresh pot of coffee. After they changed horses, one of them would take some coffee to Jessie and Ivan. Even though the herd was smaller now—they turned the newly branded animals loose to return to the open range—they never left it unattended.

Cade retreated to the spotty shade of a live oak, their only relief from the sun, sat down, and stretched to loosen the shoulder muscles that had got tight from wrestling cattle. His grandfather sat down on one of the oak limbs that rested on the ground.

“You won’t get these cows done by sitting down every hour.”

He said that every time they took a break, but Cade noticed he was the first to retreat to the shade and the first in line for coffee.

Cade turned to Pilar, giving her a welcoming smile. “You didn’t have to come out here. I’d have sent someone after the coffee.”

“You say that every time,” his grandfather complained. “It’s the girl’s job to bring the coffee.”

“It’s not her job to put up with the noise and the stench.” She never said a word about it, but he could tell she found it unpleasant. How could she not? “Now stop complaining and drink your coffee.”

“I don’t want a woman nosing about,” his grandfather said. “No telling what she’s up to.”

“What could I be doing?” Pilar asked, pouring a cup of coffee and handing it to the old man.

“Women are cunning. You can’t trust them.”

“You can trust me not to want anything to do with branding cows,” Pilar said. “I’d rather spend the whole day washing clothes.”

Cade didn’t know if that was a hint. At the end of the day, nobody had enough energy to haul the wood and water necessary for baths or washing clothes. Too tired even to change their clothes, they fell into bed as they were. He was certain their smell was ripe enough to be detected a mile off. “We’ll wash our own clothes,” Cade with. “Ivan makes eight.”

“Trying to turn her up sweet?”

Cade turned to see Owen approaching the tree, massaging his side. Holt had taken the stitches out last night. Cade imagined the scar itched.

“Where’s your horse?”

“Holt volunteered to look after it for me. He was worried about his patient. Which is more than I can say for my cousin.” He turned to Pilar, his ugly mood vanishing. “It’s a relief to feast my eyes on you. It’s not fair of Cade to keep you all to himself.”

“Nobody’s been keeping me anywhere,” Pilar said. She poured a cup of coffee and handed to Owen. “How is your side? You really shouldn’t be using a rope.”

“I won’t be accused of being a slacker,” he said, eyeing Cade. “I intend to earn every penny of my share.”

“I’m sure Cade doesn’t want you working so hard.”

“My cousin may be paying a little too much attention to you to know what I’m doing.”

Cade knew Owen thought he’d be better than Cade at discovering Pilar’s secrets, but he didn’t know why Owen’s temper had turned so sour. Maybe it was because Pilar seemed to show more interest in him than in Owen. Owen had always competed with Cade for leadership. He’d been angry when Cade was chosen to command the Night Riders. His consolation had been that women always preferred him to Cade. Maybe his pride couldn’t stand Cade besting him in both areas. Cade doubted that had ever happened before.

“Maybe he’s trying to learn from you,” Pilar said, “trying to be more gallant.”

“Calling Cade gallant would be like calling a mule a thoroughbred.”

“You got a burr under your saddle?” Earl asked.

“I sure as hell do.”

“Then pull it out,” Earl said. “I won’t have a man sulking around like a woman.”

Cade wasn’t certain it was a good idea for Owen to get his gripe out in the open. A man might be ashamed of his feelings, but once he’d stated them, he’d feel obliged to defend them. That often caused men to do things they really didn’t want to do.

“Maybe you’d better go see to your horse,” Cade said. “I expect Holt is wanting his coffee about now.”

“That’s one of the burrs under my saddle,” Owen said, turning on Cade. “You always thinking you know what’s going on in a man’s mind. Like you’re a whole lot better and smarter than the rest of us.”

It had never been difficult to know what was on Owen’s mind. He was either thinking of how to do the most damage to the enemy, win a point against Cade, or seduce some girl. He’d never appeared to care if he was hungry or soaked
to the skin, lips blue, body shivering, as long as he had one of the three to occupy his mind.

“What are you getting at?” Cade asked.

“I’m tired of you giving all the orders around here like you’re the only one who can think.”

“Somebody’s got to give the orders.” Rafe Jerry walked up to Pilar to get his coffee without looking at Owen or Cade. “It makes sense it should be Cade since this is his place.”

“It’s my ranch,” Earl stated furiously.

Rafe ignored Earl, took his coffee, and withdrew to the far edge of the shade, his part in the conversation obviously finished.

“He doesn’t own Pilar,” Owen said.

“What?” Pilar turned so quickly, she spilled some of the coffee intended for Broc’s cup. The rest of the men had come up behind Rafe.

“He’s protecting her from me.” Owen’s laugh was harsh. “He thinks I’ll steal her honor.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Pilar protested.

“When a man starts protecting a woman from another man, it’s a sign she’ll soon have more influence over him than his friends, men with whom he shares a
vow
.”

Cade didn’t like the looks the men were giving him. They were questioning, wondering if he might be thinking of backing out of his vow.

“Why don’t you go to the bunkhouse and lie down?” Cade said. “The herd’s small enough that Jessie or Ivan can look after it.”

“You never have thought I was as good as you,” Owen said, anger twisting his handsome face.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What else could you mean when you think an old man
or a Polish count who’s never seen a cow can do my job better than I can?”

“Owen, I’m not—”

Cade got no warning before Owen jumped him, and they went down in a tangle of arms and legs.

Chapter Ten

Pilar couldn’t believe that Owen would fight Cade over her. She could never have, and didn’t
want
to have, any influence on Cade. Anyone could tell he was the kind of man who made up his mind what he wanted to do and did it regardless of opposition.

As she watched the men rolling about on the ground, she realized she had thought of Cade as her enemy, but she didn’t feel that way about him now. There was none of the evil she expected of an enemy. He worked harder than anyone and remained cheerful under his grandfather’s gibes. She had come to respect his sense of responsibility as well as his even temper.

Who wouldn’t admire a man like that?

But that wasn’t what surprised her. Even though she knew Owen was wounded, she found herself hoping Cade would be the one to land the telling blow.

The other men watched in silence, but Earl Wheeler’s sentiments were never in doubt. “Knock the son of a
bitch’s teeth out!” he called to Cade. “That’ll teach him to bite the hand that feeds him.”

“Shouldn’t you stop them?” Pilar asked Holt. “Owen is hurt.”

“Owen’s got something under his skin he needs to work out. Besides, Cade’s going easy on him.”

Pilar couldn’t see anything easy about the fight. Each man punched the other relentlessly. Cade appeared to be trying to pin Owen to the ground, but that only made Owen madder.

“Don’t treat me like a baby!” he yelled. “Fight like you mean it, dammit!”

“Do what he says,” Earl called. “Beat the—”

“You got some more coffee in that pot?” Broc asked.

Pilar nodded, unable to take her eyes off the two men. It had taken a fight to make her realize that her feelings for Cade had undergone a change. No, that was too mild. Setting aside respect and the fact that he was a very attractive man, she
really
liked him. Maybe it was because he saw her as a person, not as a pawn. He had acknowledged her abilities, understood some of her feelings. He’d even admitted his family was in debt to her.

She heard a sound over the noise of the fight, saw Cade and Owen freeze.

“It was a gunshot,” Holt said.

Rafe had already dropped his coffee and set off for his horse at a run. Broc followed close on his heels.

“What—”

Pilar’s question was drowned out by a burst of gunfire.

“That’s too damned close,” Cade said, surging to his feet.

“My grandmother!” Pilar cried.

“It’s not coming from that direction,” Cade said. “It’s coming from the trail in from San Antonio.”

Broc and Rafe galloped by, dropping off two horses. Owen sprang up from the ground and threw himself on one of the horses. “You stay here with Pilar. At least
this
is something I can do.”

Holt mounted up and followed him.

“I’m going, too,” Earl said.

“Stay here,” Cade said. “I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s possible they’re trying to pull us away so they can steal the herd.”

“Why? There’s only a few hundred left.”

“I don’t know,” Cade said. “None of this makes sense.”

“I’m worried about my grandmother,” Pilar said. She’d never forget the fear, confusion, and desperation she and her grandmother had felt when they’d fled the squatters’ attack on their ranch.

“Go find Jessie and Ivan,” Cade said to his grandfather. “I’m taking Pilar up to the house.”

“You can’t tell me what to do on my own place,” Earl said.

Without replying, Cade took Pilar by the hand and headed toward the house at a fast walk. She had to trot to keep up with him.

“Do you think it could be Laveau?” he asked.

“Why would he be shooting?” Thorns grabbed at her skirt, but she didn’t have time to worry about possible tears. It was all she could do to keep up with Cade. They hadn’t heard any more shots, but none of the men had come back, either.

“Laveau never liked me,” Cade said. “He didn’t want to belong to our troop when he found I had been given the command.”

She would have been surprised if he had, but the war was over now. Laveau would be grateful to the Wheelers
for taking his grandmother and sister in; he wouldn’t come riding in shooting.

The house came into view. Pilar was relieved to see no one around. “I expect my grandmother has locked herself in her room,” Pilar said. “I’d better go see that she’s all right.”

But Senora diViere surprised her granddaughter by meeting her at the door. “Where do those shots come from?” She glanced at Cade, her expression hard to interpret.

“I don’t know,” Cade answered. “The men have gone to find out.”

“Squatters,” Senora diViere spat out.

“Why should they attack us?” Pilar asked.

“Because he steals their cows.”

“I’m only branding my cows.”

“You should know about squatters,” Senora diViere spat at him. “They are like your grandfather. They come in and take what belongs to someone else. When you try to take it back, they kill you.”

The embarrassment that flooded through Pilar surprised her. Her grandmother spoke the truth, so why did she wish the old woman hadn’t thrown it in Cade’s face?

“We don’t have to worry about the squatters,” she said to her grandmother. “Cade will protect us.”

“Considering the jewelry I have given his despicable grandfather, he should treat us as honored guests, not make you cook for so many men.” With that, her grandmother shot Cade a look meant to convey to him that even though she depended on him for her safety, she considered him no better than a rat.

She took Pilar by the wrist. “Come inside. You,” she said, returning her eagle-like gaze to Cade, “make certain
whoever fired those shots does not come near the house.” She pulled Pilar inside and closed the door.

“Grandmother, you can’t—”

“What possessed you to let that man hold your hand?”

“I’m sure he didn’t think. I know I didn’t. We were hurrying to the house to make sure you were safe. I could barely keep up. I guess he took my hand to make sure I didn’t lag behind.”

“That’s exactly the kind of story a Wheeler would tell.”

“I doubt he was even aware of what he was doing.”

“Wheelers
always
know what they do. How do you think they managed to hold on to our land for nearly thirty years?”

Pilar didn’t want to think about anything that had happened so long ago. She wanted to know what had caused the shooting. She wanted to know what had caused her feelings for Cade to change, when they had changed, what it meant. She hoped he would no longer consider her his enemy.

“Has he been asking you questions about when Laveau will come back?” her grandmother asked.

“No more than usual.”

“Did he seem worried? Frightened?”

Pilar laughed. “Cade Wheeler has never been frightened of anything in his life. I’m not sure he has that much sense.” That wasn’t true. She knew him better now. Anyone expecting the old Cade Wheeler back from the war was in for a big surprise. “Cade’s concerned about getting his cattle branded before anybody can steal them, about getting them to a market that will give him a good price, but he’s not worried.”

“You keep away from him. I do not like what I am seeing.” Her grandmother’s gaze narrowed.

Pilar’s defenses went up instantly. “What do you mean?”

“You sound like you admire him.”

“I do. He’s—”

“I forbid it. He is a Wheeler. He is not worthy of your admiration.”

Pilar tried once more. “Admiring him doesn’t mean I like him, not the way you mean. He’s smart and he’s willing to work hard. His friends are smart and hardworking. It’s a credit to Cade that they’re willing to take orders from him.”

“He has cows. They do not.”

“It’s more than that. People followed Cade even before the war.”

“Foolish boys.”

“Maybe, but these are not foolish men. I plan to get Cade to teach me as much as possible.”

“I forbid it. Laveau will not need your help. He is a man.”

Pilar gave up trying to explain anything to her grandmother. She didn’t know whether tradition, fear, or hatred kept the old woman from opening her mind, but she was not willing to change, to accept that things had changed. Most of all, she was not willing to accept that a Cordoba should know anything about work. It was out of the question that Pilar should attempt to run a ranch when there was a man available to do it. Her grandmother had complained about every economy Pilar instituted, insisting that Laveau wouldn’t have done anything so absurd. Her grandmother didn’t feel obliged to settle debts, especially with people she didn’t know or considered inferior.

“You should be thinking of your fiancé, not this running of ranches. Manuel will not want a wife who tells him what to do, what to think.”

“If he’s so concerned about me, why didn’t he help us when the squatters attacked?”

“He did not know.”

“He’s had two years to find out.”

“Maybe he has squatters of his own?”

“Cade wouldn’t have left his fiancée alone for two years.”

The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she felt the shock she saw in her grandmother’s expression. She didn’t know what Cade would have done—war forced people to do all manner of things they wouldn’t have done under normal circumstances—but she felt certain he would have found a way to protect the woman he loved.

Loved!
What was she thinking? Love had never been a consideration for marriage in her family. A man married a woman who could bring him a dowry, an influential family, bear him children, and be a credit to his position in society. A woman married the man her family picked out for her. It didn’t matter if he was ugly or cruel, or if they hated each other.

Even though Manuel was neither ugly nor cruel, she didn’t love him. But a woman had duties, responsibilities, loyalties, a position to maintain. According to her grandmother, love was a vulgar emotion that would cause her to cast all this aside, thereby endangering herself and her family. No, love had never been part of Pilar’s thinking, but she was certain it was part of Cade’s.

“What makes you think you know Cade so well?” her grandmother demanded, her gaze piercing, her brows furrowed.

“He offered to share the money he gets for his cows with anybody who needed money to start over again. If he would do that for his men, surely he’d do even more for the woman he loved.”

She’d said that word again! What was wrong with her?

“You might know a Wheeler would do something as vulgar as fall in love.”

“I don’t know that he has.”

“You think too much about this man.”

“I’m living in his house, cooking his meals, and washing his clothes. We both depend on him for protection.”

Her grandmother’s expression grew stern. “You are with this man too much by yourself. I will come out of my room. I will watch.”

Pilar was stunned. “But you despise Earl Wheeler.”

“He is a barbarian, but I like that new boy.”

Her grandmother had been caught out of her room when Ivan arrived. An aristocrat himself, Ivan had immediately recognized one of his own kind. He’d paid court to her grandmother, rolling out his family’s titles, names and sizes of their lost estates, the positions at court they’d once occupied. Much to Pilar’s surprise, her grandmother had accepted Ivan as an equal.

“You and Earl hate each other,” Pilar said. She could just imagine the war of words that would fly between her grandmother and Earl.

Her grandmother drew herself up. “I do not let my passions rule me. I will refuse to recognize his presence.”

“But what will you do?” She knew her grandmother would plunge a dagger into her own heart before she would serve Earl Wheeler. Or sit down at his table while he was present.

“I will watch.”

Pilar didn’t trust her grandmother to be able to
watch
anybody she disapproved of without speaking her mind.

“If you’re doing this because you think I’m falling in love with Cade, you’re completely wrong.”

“I would never believe you could do anything so vulgar, and certainly not with Cade Wheeler.”

“Cade will make some woman a very good husband,” Pilar said. “He’s steady, dependable, honorable, hardworking, and is going to be a rich man one of these days.”

“I knew you were falling under his influence.”

“I’m not falling under anybody’s influence, but I can see we have nothing. No hacienda. No cows. No
vaqueros.
In a few more weeks we will have no more jewelry.”

“Laveau will get everything back. He will—”

“Laveau doesn’t want to learn how to make money. He just wants it to be there. Well, I found out it doesn’t happen that way. You’ve got to be willing to work, to fight, if necessary. When somebody tries to take what belongs to you, you can’t sit back and wait for the courts to fix it. If we’d tried to take Earl Wheeler’s land, he wouldn’t have stopped trying to get it back until he was dead.”

“Your father and grandfather are dead.”

“They died in a war, not fighting Earl Wheeler. You don’t have to like Cade to realize he’ll hold on to everything he’s got. Then he’ll double it, triple it, make it worth a dozen times more. He’s going to buy up people like us, people who’ve gone for years without paying our debts, expecting to receive credit because we’ve always received credit. Well, I don’t want to be bought up. I want to do the buying. And if Cade can teach me, I’m going to learn.”

“I would never have spoken to my grandmother in that manner.”

“You never had to cook and wash clothes for eight men to survive. I will never have to live like this again, do you hear me? Never!”

Pilar took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. She didn’t know what had caused her to lose her temper
with her grandmother. “Be careful what you say to Cade. I doubt he’s willing to be treated as a common laborer in his own home. If you anger him, he could force us to leave.”

“You like him.”

“Yes, I do. He treats me like a real person. If I do something well, he even thanks me.”

“I think Laveau had better come home quickly.”

“You don’t have to worry. Even if I liked Cade that way, he doesn’t like me. He doesn’t even trust me. He knows something about Laveau he won’t tell me.”