Twenty-six

Houston faced a somber group of men when he walked back with Emmett’s body. Pony Latham came to meet him first. “What are we gonna do?”

“Are we gonna sit here and wait for the bastards to pick us off one by one?” Joe’s angry voice blended with the murmuring dissent around him. “Emmett was our friend…my friend.”

Houston watched his deeply shaken crew. Their questions were ones he’d asked himself.

Clay answered, “He was a friend to all of us. Emmett will be missed, no doubt about it. We ain’t gonna sit idle and wait.”

“Nope.” Houston squeezed Joe’s shoulder. “Let’s get Emmett in the ground and then we’ll plan. This hurts like hell, but we’re not whipped. We’re going to be a whole lot smarter and twice as cunning from now on. I assure you, his death won’t go unpunished.” Though he didn’t know how they were going to do it yet, surely they could rid themselves of two ruthless outlaws bent on murder and revenge.

“Damn right,” Pony spat.

As a rosy dawn broke, someone brought out a shovel. Each man took his turn digging in the muddy earth. When the grave was deep enough, they wrapped Emmett in a blanket and laid him into the hole. Joe brought out his harmonica and played an old hymn. Houston stood at the head of the grave and said a few words.

He felt as old as Stoker standing there. He forced strength he didn’t feel into his voice and the only Bible passage he knew rang out across the desolate prairie. He kept his words brief out of a need to get moving.

While the men filled in the hole, Houston walked Lara to the chuck wagon. He was glad for a private moment. His arm tightened around her waist. “Do you have that gun handy?”

She glanced up. A tear poised on the tip of a long lash. “Yes and I’ll use it. Don’t you worry.”

The brittle hardness of her tone was new, and it hurt him to hear. He’d never wanted her to feel unsafe, and yet he’d put her in this situation.

He kissed her upturned mouth. “In a fight, people often get separated and I may not always be able to protect you.” That constant fear had paralyzed him and kept him awake.

Lara rested her small palm on his leather vest. “I want to take that worry from you if I can. I’ll kill to protect myself and my family. Yuma has taken all from me he’s going to. Each one of these drovers is my family now too. I remember how tenderly Emmett held Gracie, as though she was his child. He was a sweet, kind man and I’ll miss him. Trust me, I’ll fight.”

Houston brushed the pad of his finger along her scarred cheek, unfazed by the raised flesh. “How did I get so lucky? You’re everything I ever dreamed of finding in a woman.”

“And I in a man,” she said softly. “When all this is over and we reach Dodge City, let’s do something special. Just you and me. I think I know just what.”

“That’s a deal. Want to share what you’re thinking?” He nibbled her enticing lips.

“Nope.”

“Will I like it?”

“I daresay you will.” A smile teased her mouth. “You’ll just have to wait.”

“I have plans of my own for you, Mrs. Legend.” Lots of plans. He’d make her happy if it took a lifetime. “Just keep thinking about our future when you want to give up. Believe me, this fight is going to get very ugly before it’s over.”

“You’re right. I can’t help but wonder how many will have to pay the ultimate price for protecting me.” Her quivering chin pierced Houston’s heart. He saw how desperately she tried to hold back her fear.

He opened his arms and she walked into them. Drawing her close, he kissed her, taking comfort in the warmth that spread through him. He hoped she felt the same. At least a little.

“Darlin’, the men are protecting each other, not just you. I wish I could make this trip easier, but I can’t control what will happen.” Only one thing would help…Blackstone’s death. Houston narrowed his gaze, staring toward the ravine where he’d found Emmett. “From now on, you’ll ride in front of the herd. Someone will be with you at all times. You’ll have to sacrifice a lot of your privacy, but I’d rather have you safe.”

If only he could, he’d move heaven and earth to spare her more violence and worry. Lord knew, she’d had enough.

“I told you at the outset that I wanted no special treatment.” She stepped from his arms. Putting her foot on the small step, she climbed up into the wagon box beside Henry and lifted the reins.

“When you need to feed Gracie, let the drover or Henry drive,” Houston continued. “At night I can’t allow you to leave camp alone to take care of personal needs.” When she quickly opened her mouth to protest, he softened his tone and went on. “I’ll try to make sure I’m available. But if not, you’ll have to let someone else come with you. I’m sorry.”

Though he saw a second of silent mutiny, she gave him a resolute smile and straightened her shoulders. “I understand. I’ll just have to get over my qualms.”

“Wish you didn’t have to, darlin’, but I’m afraid it’s necessary for now. Go ahead and roll out. We’ll be behind you.”

Henry waved excitedly as though leaving on a long ocean voyage. “Good-bye, Houston. I can drive good ’cause we’re fam’ly. If you need stuff fixed, I can do it.”

“Bye, Bones. I know you can.” Houston watched them move forward only to stop and pick up Gracie from brother Quaid, then he strode to his top drover to relay new rules. The words one a day beat in his head like an Indian death drum.

Clay glanced at Houston from beneath the brim of his weathered, sweat-stained hat. “Reckon you have a plan.”

“I do.” Houston told him about putting the chuck wagon out front with a drover whose only job was to protect them.

“Good idea. At least for now.” Clay thumbed back his hat. “Blackstone will just change tactics once he figures it out.”

“Yep.” Then Houston gave the order for no one to leave camp alone. “When we’re with the herd at night, the men will ride in pairs. To help recognize each other in the dark, I’ll issue a password and countersign each morning. If anyone fails to answer with the correct word, I authorize the drover to shoot him. We won’t take any more chances. Keep the herd tight and don’t let any get away. If they do, don’t chase them down. Let them go. Understood?”

“For sure. Can’t afford to let any drover ride alone after a cow an’ give the bastards an openin’ to gun him down.” The saddle leather creaked as Clay leaned forward. “I think we should expect Blackstone’s group to multiply any time now.”

“I agree.” Houston let out a troubled sigh. At least he’d bought them a little extra time by burning the note and sending the bunch in a different direction. He only wished he knew their numbers. He prayed they were small.

A glance at the Vincents’ wagon reminded Houston he needed to address that. Caroline was clinging to Nick. She was too young to have to manage a wagon and team by herself.

“Clay, tell Nick to drive their wagon and to stay up front with Lara. We could use him to fill Emmett’s spot, but she needs him more.”

“They’re so young.” Clay’s voice held a strange quality, as though he was talking about himself. “This unforgiving land makes people grow up too fast. I’ll tell ’em.” The drover sighed. “I’d best relay your orders so we can get these ornery dogies on down the trail a ways. We’re burning daylight.”

Houston nodded. “Come nightfall, you and me are going to find the murdering bastard’s den.”

“I’ll consider it an honor, boss.”

“We’ll find them.” Houston mounted up and rode over to Virgil and Quaid, warning them to be extra careful. The last thing he needed was to have to take their corpses back to Till Boone. A shudder ran through him before he turned and galloped over to the remuda. The Appaloosa deserved a rest. He selected a palomino and switched his saddle.

Houston glanced up from the cinch he was tightening. “How’s the little mare’s foot?” The animal had developed a limp the previous day.

Pete, somewhere in his early twenties, met his gaze. “Doing fine. You got that rock out in time. I won’t let anyone ride her for another day or two to make sure.”

“Appreciate the fine care you’re taking of the horses. I couldn’t ask for better.”

The young man grinned. “Horses are my life. I hope to start a horse ranch one day.”

Something about the love in the man’s voice and on his face as he talked about his dream made Houston’s throat tighten. Pete was going to go far…if he got a chance to grow up. Houston thought of Zeb Flanagan, dead before he even found out who he was. Maybe happiness was a way station between too much and too little. Only thing was…Zeb seemed like he’d always lived on the too-little end. Houston would try to see that Pete didn’t.

“That’s a fine dream, Pete. Maybe with what you make on this trip, you can.” Houston tested the cinch and found it good. He stuck his foot in the stirrup and threw his leg over. “Trouble’s riding this way. Keep your eyes open and your .45 ready.”

“Yes, boss, I will.”

Houston rode away feeling guilty. He’d been wrong about trouble riding toward them—it was already there.

“Take your one a day and shove it, Blackstone,” he growled into the wind. “I’m going to kill you. You’re as good as dead.”