Fourteen

Houston stared after the medicine woman and child as they disappeared from sight after delivering one last message—that others would join the evil men and they’d make war. Well, they’d find him waiting. If a fight was what they wanted, that’s what he’d give the murdering bastards.

Lara grabbed Houston so hard he winced. “She was concerned about Gracie. Exactly what kind of talisman did the old woman give her? And why didn’t you tell me yesterday?” In her frantic need to know, her voice had risen shrilly.

In the face of Lara’s panic, he knew he had no choice. “Come. We need to talk.”

Once he’d seated her on a barrel, he took out the carved wolf and handed it to Lara. She stared at the red, carved wood. “This is supposed to ward off trouble,” he said. “Hell, I don’t know if it works but we won’t lose anything by trying it.”

“That explains why you stood guard over us all night.” She turned the charm over. “Please don’t keep things from me. Not even when you’re trying to protect me.”

Houston wiped his weary eyes. “I don’t want you to fret. Let me do the worrying—I’m real good at that. You have your hands full taking care of Gracie.”

“Promise to tell me if you see those men following today.” She grabbed his hands. “Promise me.”

“All right.” But he knew he wouldn’t. What good would it do to feed her fear more? Not a God-blessed thing.

Clay filled a tin cup with coffee and walked off a little ways. Houston saw him staring toward the south, looking for the riders. Darkness hadn’t yet given way to the dawn, so the effort was useless.

Lara went back to her breakfast chores and Houston got up and filled his cup with the hot brew. He wandered down to join Clay. “I’ve made up my mind.”

“What about, boss?” Clay looked fierce in the blackness, with that eye patch peeking from under the brim of his hat.

“I’m going to backtrack while you push the cattle forward. I’m going to see exactly who’s behind us.”

Clay met his eyes. “Need company?”

“Not yet. I think we should keep everything as normal as possible. I’m just going to look, not take any action.” Houston paused then ground out, “Unless they force my hand.”

His gaze lit on Henry as he cracked prairie chicken eggs, and he changed the subject. “Clay, I want you to find some small job for Henry when we leave here. Something that he won’t get hurt doing. I told Lara I would.” Houston didn’t like the frustration in the boy’s eyes. “Maybe he can help with the remuda. Just don’t let him do anything dangerous.”

“Be glad to. He’s a good kid.” Clay finished his coffee and poured the dregs onto the ground. “Better get this day started. Good luck. If I hear gunshots I’ll come runnin’.”

“Thanks.” Houston noticed Gracie wiggling around in her crib, Lara too busy to see to her. He set his coffee on the pull-down table of the chuck wagon. When he reached Gracie, she gave him that toothless grin that made his heart lurch. “Hey, Angel, how are you this fine morn?”

Houston picked her up and gave her a kiss. As usual, she was wet, so he grabbed the small blanket that was in the crib and wrapped it around her. She snuggled against him as though he were a soft pillow. It astounded him that she hardly ever cried. True, he had limited experience with babies, but he’d never seen one so pleasant. Not even when wet or hungry did she raise much of a fuss. A strange wish rose inside that he’d been her real father, heard her first cry, witnessed the first time she sat up, crawled, or smiled.

But he hadn’t and the missed milestones were all in the past, witnessed by her mother alone. He took heart in the fact that he’d be there for all the others. That would have to be enough.

Henry rang the cowbell and cowboys who weren’t already by the fire came running. Each had a word for Gracie, a tip of the hat and a smile for Lara, before filling their plates.

Houston looked them over. He had a good crew. Without them saying so, he knew they’d stand and fight to protect his family, each other, and the herd. Not one, young or old, would run when trouble came. They rode for the brand and would give their lives if need be.

God, he prayed he wouldn’t have to ask that of them.

Gracie seemed to sense his dark mood, for when she glanced up again there was no silly grin. Her blue eyes held solemn weight and she patted his leather vest with her little hand.

Houston pulled her up. “Okay now, none of that. You need to be happy and let me do the worrying.”

His daughter jabbered something and pointed in the direction they’d come. He wished he knew what she was saying, what went through that head of hers.

“It’s a sad day when a baby gives the orders around here,” Virgil said, grinning. Eggs, potatoes, salt pork, biscuits, and gravy loaded his plate to the brim. A mess of hot peppers sat on top of it all. The kid must have an iron stomach.

“Sometimes I think you’re right,” Houston agreed. “Her gibberish makes a whole lot more sense than I do most days.”

Clay laughed. “Maybe you can try that next, boss.”

Quaid Boone walked by. “We’re used to her laying down the law to us.”

Houston flashed him a grin. Hard work must be good for him. The young man had slimmed down some, he believed. Not that the size of his heaped plate was any indication of trying. Despite his light-brown hair, Quaid bore a remarkable resemblance to his sister. Both had expressive eyes and a determined chin. Virgil took more after his pa, with his quiet determination and steely stare. The brothers still had some growing to do, but Houston could see the makings of fine men.

Lara came forward. “I’ll take her now. You need to eat.”

The slight breeze lifted a tendril of red and laid it across her eyes. Houston longed to brush the hair back, but wouldn’t with all eyes on them. She didn’t want to be a spectacle. That’s all that kept him from it, though.

“I’m sure the little angel’s hungry.” Their hands brushed as he transferred the babe. A slow fire burning inside tried to flame high. “I’ll bring a seat for you behind the wagon.”

At her nod, he grabbed a barrel and rolled it around out of sight.

“Thank you, Houston.” Lara touched his arm. “I won’t take long. I know you’ll want to get the cattle moving soon.”

“Take your time,” he said gently.

“I don’t want to hold up anyone.”

“You should know by now that everyone respects yours and Gracie’s needs. The rest can go ahead anytime. I’ll stay and help if you need it.” Houston breathed the air that was laden with the fragrance of sage…and hope.

Reality slammed into him like a two-by-four. He wanted this woman.

Not only wanted, he needed her.

“All right. But first I need to change her.”

He left Lara replacing the soaked diaper with a dry one and went to fill his belly.

Raising his gaze to the blue sky overhead, he paused, praying he could find out who followed them before dark and wishing Dodge City was over the next hill.

* * *

Every nerve stretched taut, Houston lay in clumps of sagebrush and wild grasses, listening, waiting, barely breathing.

Several hours into the day and the sun had heated up, promising to be a scorcher by noon. Sweat trickled into his eyes, making them sting. Raising a hand, he brushed it away in an effort to keep his vision clear.

In front of him, partially hidden by juniper, cholla cacti, and rock, sat the riders’ camp. So far nothing had moved in the ten minutes he’d been here. He finally decided no one would double back and rose. The cold fire told him they’d long gone. Empty tin cans, burned up cigarettes, and other trash lay among the leavings. It could’ve been a hundred campsites left by countless travelers, though none as careless as these.

He knew the men who meant to kill them had slept there. He smelled their evil. Strange that he hadn’t seen them during the ride out. Where had they disappeared to? Or had he ridden right past them without knowing it?

A scrap of paper, held down by a rock, fluttered. He picked it up.

Waiting ahead. Hurry. Gotta job.

The instructions had to be meant for others coming to join the four bushwhackers. No doubt the job referred to stealing the herd. But was that all? The Cherokee woman predicted there’d be more.

Who were these men, dammit? But he saw nothing to indicate a name.

He’d give anything to have Sam and Luke with him. When these reinforcements arrived, who knew how large a force they’d have to face.

He laid the note into the cold ashes, took out a match, and watched the paper flame. After making sure not one word remained, he gathered some good-sized rocks. He arranged them into an arrow that pointed in the wrong direction. “That should buy some time,” he muttered to himself.

Standing, he dusted off his hands and strode to the Appaloosa. It made him nervous that he’d missed the riders. He mounted up and set out at a gallop. Something told him not to dawdle. When a snake was on the loose, you moved fast before it could strike.

The horse ate up two miles in nothing flat. Up ahead, the chuck wagon had stopped. What was going on? Why wasn’t she moving?

And where were the others?

A bloodcurdling scream rent the air, chilling his bones.