The Devil You Know (39 page)

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Willa refreshed Israel's bath with hot water. Annalea had lingered a little too long in the tub, so the water had cooled considerably from the time Willa tucked her into bed and called to Israel that it was safe to come into the kitchen.

“Hey! Careful with that,” he said when hot water from the kettle splashed his uncovered knees.

“Sorry.” She proceeded with more caution after that. “When we build that extra bedroom in the spring, I'm thinking we should add a bathing room for privacy.”

“I could have bathed in the bunkhouse.”

“And where's the fun in that for me?” She managed to get out of his way before he splashed her, then she began to fill the kettle again from the pump. “What you do think about a bathing room? It wouldn't have to be fancy.”

“Out of the draft would be good enough for me.”

Willa set the kettle on the stove and went to make sure the back door was closed.

“I didn't say that for you to do something about it,” he told her when she returned to the tub. “Sit down. Please. You should be in this bath right now, not me. You've got an edge on you so sharp I'm surprised you haven't cut yourself.”

Willa sat. She rolled her neck and shoulders and kept her voice low in the event Annalea had crept out of bed and was trying to listen. “I thought I'd be relieved when Zach delivered the letter, but the waiting has been interminable. They
could have replied by now, and I think it's intentionally cruel that they haven't. I keep wondering if they will set a date like Happy asked them to do, or if they'll just show up without warning.”

“I know you're worried about Annalea.”

“And you.”

“Forget about me.” He soaped his arms and shoulders and then stopped suddenly. “I smell lavender.”

“Annalea wanted the scented salts. I'm sorry. I gave in.”

“Well, then, as long as it was for Annalea.” He grinned when Willa bent toward the tub and flicked water in his face. “What if you send Annalea with Cutter tomorrow morning? That way if the Barbers just show up, she'll be gone. You must have thought of it.”

“I have. This feels different than when you and I left her to go to Lansing. She had Happy here, and while that might not have struck me as a good thing before you came here, it turned out fine for both of them. She had Zach and Cutter, too. You know she's sweet on Cutter?”

“I suspected. I don't think he realizes it, though.”

“Oh, I know he doesn't. It'll pass and he'll look at her someday when she's full grown and wonder why he never noticed.”

“Probably.” He wrung out the sponge and tossed it to her. “You're still fidgeting. Come fidget with my back.”

Willa threw the sponge at his head. It would have been more satisfying if he hadn't caught it. She made a face at him that was in keeping with her childish mood of the moment. When he merely grinned at her, she sighed and folded a towel, then knelt on it so she could wash his back. “You're going to do this for me.”

“That is my current plan.” He reached over his shoulder and brushed her hand with his fingertips. “About Annalea . . .” he said, and deliberately did not complete the thought.

“I'll speak to Cutter first thing in the morning. You can tell Annalea.”

He groaned softly. “Do you spend time thinking of ways I can atone for past sins, or are you just naturally gifted?”

Malcolm and Eli Barber arrived in the middle of the afternoon the following day. Cutter had not yet returned from escorting Annalea and John Henry to his mother's. Willa's first concern when she saw the Barbers approaching was whether they had crossed paths with her daughter. The timing seemed slightly off for that to have happened, but the fact that she had to worry about it at all was added to her list of grievances against her guests.

Willa was halfway to the barn when she caught sight of the pair in her peripheral vision. She stopped, braced to face them, and called out for Happy, who was in the smokehouse. Her shout brought Zach out of the barn. His brisk stride allowed him to reach her side before her father loped over.

Willa turned her head a quarter to sniff the air around Happy. She did not even try to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “I smell whiskey. Did you have to? Did you?”

Happy shifted his weight unsteadily. “Eau de liquor. I always keep a bottle in the smokehouse. Heard you holler that they're coming, so I splashed myself a little and rinsed out my mouth. Don't you worry about me, Willa. I'm sober as a man at his own funeral, but those two expect something else.”

Willa was not entirely sure she could believe him, but it was not a question she could entertain now. The Barbers had closed the distance separating them to fifty yards. “I thought for sure they'd bring Buster with them.”

Out of the corner of his mouth, Zach said, “Wouldn't be at all surprised if he's somewhere around. Is Israel in the house?”

“Mm-hmm. He was going to follow me to the barn after he found his gloves. We think Annalea made off with them. She was full of spite and spittle this morning. Wanted no part of leaving.”

There was only enough time for Zach to chuckle quietly before the Barbers were upon them.

Malcolm brought his mount to a halt and looked over all three members of the welcoming party before he touched the brim of his silver-banded Stetson and nodded to each of them in turn. His attention lingered on Happy. “Still at the bottle, are you? And here I thought negotiations such as you suggested would require some temperance.” He shrugged, tossed his reins to Zach, and dismounted, landing lightly on his feet in spite of the breadth and height of him. “You remember my son?”

Happy listed sideways as he looked up at Eli. “Sure, I do. Been a while, hasn't it?”

Willa surreptitiously caught Happy by the sleeve of his coat and held on in the event he began to topple.

Happy did not wait for Eli to reply. He grinned toothily at Malcolm. “It's not escaped my notice that your boy is a whole lot prettier than you, Mal. That has to be his mother's doing. Or maybe it
is
his father's doing. Us men, we don't ever really know, do we?”

Malcolm glanced up at Eli. “That's the sort of thing I warned you about, Eli. No sense taking any part of it to heart. Better you think on how long it took Happy to work himself up to it, and you'll find it in you to pity him.” He shifted his gaze to Willa, green eyes sharply boring into her. “I know this was your idea, Wilhelmina, so let us dispense with any pretense otherwise. We're here at your request. I confess to anticipating a more hospitable welcome.”

Willa showed no reaction when Malcolm used her full name, but inside, her stomach roiled. “And I confess to anticipating the pleasure of your reply. We had no reason to expect you'd be here today.”

Malcolm's head tilted to the side and he regarded her narrowly as if parsing her words for truth. “We sent a reply.” Now he favored Eli with the same look he'd had for Willa.
Eli bore the scrutiny every bit as well but made no reply until Malcolm added, “Well? Didn't we?”

“I gave the reply to Jesse to carry.”

“I guess we know what happened to that. It's with him wherever he's got himself off to.” He turned to Willa. “Please accept my sincere apologies. Jesse Snow was not the person who should have been charged with delivering my answer, but perhaps you can forgive us for offering a young man the chance of redemption through hard work and a show of loyalty. I have only recently learned from my foreman that Jesse showed poor judgment in the past and may have had skirmishes with the law.”

“Then he should have fit right in at Big Bar,” Willa said, unmoved. “You're here now, so let's get to it. Eli, you want to get down off your high horse and join us in the front room. We'll get some food together, and Lord knows, you see we have drink, and we will behave in a civil manner just as if being in the same room did not make our skin crawl.”

“Well put,” said Malcolm. “Eli, give Zach here your reins.”

Willa let go of Happy's sleeve and hoped he would not overplay the inebriated fool, if indeed he was playing at all. He hung back, and Malcolm fell into step beside her, asking after Cutter. The question surprised her. She had been expecting a query about her husband. “Cutter's on an errand.”

“And your sister?” asked Malcolm. “I fully expected to see her.”

“She wanted to go with Cutter.”

“Hmm. I don't think I've seen her since I paid my respects when your mama died. What a sad little thing she was then.” When Willa said nothing, he went on. “You, too.”

Willa stood back and opened the kitchen door for him. “Go on,” she said when he hesitated. “No one's there to bite you.”

“No one? Where is your husband?”

“With Cutter. This is what happens when we have no reply. We go about our business.”

“I suppose Eli and I are fortunate there is anyone around at all, though perhaps we could have depended on seeing Happy.”

Inside, Willa took his hat, coat, and gloves, and pointed
out the direction of the front room while she waited for Eli to step inside. She put all of it, including her own outerwear, in Happy's arms when he stumbled in after Eli. “Join us when you've hung it up.”

“Maybe I'll just toss it on your bed,” he said. “Has to be easier.”

“Whatever you like.” She nodded to Eli to go ahead of her and managed not to steal a look back at her father. She suspected that he was counting on Israel being in one of the bedrooms and hoped he was right.

Eli passed up the sofa where his father was sitting in favor of the rocking chair. Willa, in an effort to honor her edict regarding civil behavior, did not yank him out of it. She chose the wide armchair instead and left Happy with the option of being the other bookend on the sofa or sitting on the piano bench.

“I'd rather hoped we could do this without guns. You see I am not carrying, but I understand if you want to keep yours.”

Malcolm's smile was appreciative. “There's no one in here I want to shoot. Yet. You can have mine. Eli can do what he likes.” He stood, removed his gun belt, and handed it to Willa. Eli remained seated.

Shrugging, as though indifferent to the choices they made, Willa placed Malcolm's gun belt on a table out of anyone's easy reach and then returned to her seat. She sat back and rested her forearms on the comfortably wide arms of the chair, her hands curled lightly over the curves. She had actually practiced sitting in just this fashion in anticipation of facing Malcolm and Eli. It was infinitely more difficult now.

“I don't know what is taking Happy so long,” she said, “but as you noted earlier, Malcolm, this was my idea, not his. We may as well begin.” She spoke directly to Malcolm while carefully watching Eli out of the corner of her eye. “We had a visitor here from Big Bar not long ago. It put the thought in my mind that we should discuss the way things are between us. I prefer that we speak directly as opposed to you sending one of your hands to nose around, whether it's up at Monarch Lake or here.” She saw Eli push himself back in the rocker,
but it was Malcolm dropping his guard enough for her to glimpse his confusion that interested her more. “Did I misunderstand something?” she asked guilelessly. “My husband and I were not here on the evening your man came by, so perhaps I don't have it quite right. His story was an odd one, full of misdirection and misinformation, but the one thing everyone agreed on was that he was riding a horse with the Big Bar brand.” She pointed to her left shoulder. “Right here. Right where you like to brand your working horses.”

It was Eli who spoke up. “Did he
say
he worked for us?”

“On the contrary, he said he was doing a favor for a friend. He wanted us to believe he had just come from your place after making the same inquiries of you and Mal that he put to my father, Zach, and Cutter.”

“Well, then, the man's a liar,” said Malcolm. “The only visitor we've had to Big Bar was your foreman Zach, and Buster headed him off before he reached the house.”

Willa's attention was all for Eli now. “So what accounts for the horse he was riding?”

“Stolen,” said Eli. “It'd have to be.”

“Buster would know,” said Malcolm. “It's troubling that he hasn't said a word about it.”

“Perhaps because he
doesn't
know. Zach asked him when he delivered our invitation. He said there'd been no trouble with rustlers. All your horses are accounted for. Odd, don't you agree?”

“For God's sake, Wilhelmina, the man must have given you a name. Who the hell did he say he was?”

“Samuel Easterbrook.” She watched Malcolm frown deeply and Eli only a little less so. It was difficult to gauge the sincerity of the expressions, as in her opinion, neither man owned an honest emotion. “Are you going to insist you don't know the name?”

Malcolm said, “I heard the name for the first time when I received your letter. I had it from Buster, who had it from Zach. It's clear now that what Zach presented was only a story, and I'm clear, too, on why he presented it, but being familiar with the name doesn't mean I'm familiar with the man. I would not know him if he presented himself here right now.”

With impeccable timing and perfect obliviousness, Happy walked in carrying a tray with four cut glass tumblers surrounding a decanter of whiskey. “Everyone stop starin' like you expect me to drop this. I got more respect for good liquor than that. Plus, this was my mother's prized set of glasses from back East.” He set the tray on the table beside Malcolm and began to pour. His hands only shook a little. While he passed out the glasses, each filled with two fingers of whiskey, Willa summarized what he had missed.

Happy squeezed himself into the corner of the couch opposite Malcolm. “So we've come to the place where somebody's lyin'. Imagine that. Didn't figure it for happenin' quite this fast. Good thing I decided to bring libation instead of sandwiches or you'd be knee deep in deception by now.”

Malcolm grunted softly and raised his glass. He didn't drink immediately, studying Eli over the rim instead. “Tell them, Eli. Tell them what you told me when I asked you.”

“I never heard the name ‘Samuel Easterbrook' before my father asked me about him. No one by that name works for us. I believe Buster told Zach the same thing.”

Willa sighed. “I think we've all figured out by now that he doesn't work for you
by that name
. Let's see if you can't think of another he might go by.”

Malcolm's fingertips whitened on his glass. “This isn't what I came for, Wilhelmina, and I don't have the patience for you to get around to where I think you're going. I'm here to discuss water rights. You said you were willing to revisit the terms you laid out for my father a couple of years before he died. That's why I came.”

Willa's eyes never wavered from his. She refused to blink. Her mouth curved into the mere suggestion of a knowing smile. “I know exactly why you're here, Malcolm, and it isn't because you want my water.”

Happy cleared his throat. It sounded as if he were moving gravel. He moved the conversation back to the point. “What Willa's tryin' to say is that we need to play an open hand here. Put our cards on the table and see what's what. Can't be anything up a sleeve, now can there? Eli? You square with that?”

“Of course.” Eli raised one sandy-colored eyebrow a
fraction and kept his green eyes narrowly fixed on Happy's rheumy ones. “I am all for a fair and honest game.”

“You sure don't take after your father there.”

Malcolm growled at the back of his throat. “Dammit, Shadrach, you won that game. How long are you going to keep holding it over me and acting like you didn't?”

“You call me Shadrach again, and I reckon you won't live long enough to find out.”

Willa spared a look for Eli, only to discover he was already looking at her. For the briefest of moments she truly believed they shared secretive, knowing smiles at the foibles of their fathers, and that both of them were transported back to the time when they had first pledged their futures to each other at the barbed wire fence line.

Their gazes slipped away. Willa could not say how Eli would remember that moment, or even if he would, but for her, it was a bittersweet memory of youth and she promised to recall it in just that way. It would not, however, stop her from doing what needed to be done.

She set down her drink and raised both hands, pushing them toward the combatants. “Stop. The pair of you, just stop. Happy, if you cannot manage to keep from speaking out of the side your mouth, you might as well go make those sandwiches. And, Malcolm, if you cannot keep from snapping at the bait, maybe you should go to the kitchen and help him. Eli and I will conduct business on our own.”

“Over my dead body,” said Happy.

“Over my dead body,” said Malcolm.

Willa nodded, her smile perfectly sanguine. “Eli. You heard them. If this takes another turn, shoot them.” She ignored the rumblings from the couch and continued. “If we are agreed then that we are playing our cards openly, I want to revisit the identity of Samuel Easterbrook. Happy, why don't you tell them what the man looked like? Maybe that will loosen a thread of memory.”