Hellfire! Living with a bunch of yahoos who’d like nothing better than for him to make a fool of himself, or worse, was going to be drudgery. Especially if he had to keep his temper in check the entire time.
He thought of Sidney. If not for her, he’d stir this beehive good. He still might.
Shame for bringing down the situation on the Calhoun name, especially with the McCutcheons, made him clench the fist that wasn’t holding his coffee mug. But then a thought occurred to him.
Maybe I can turn this situation to my advantage. Make my pa proud.
He gulped down the little coffee in his cup at the same time he plunked himself back down on the bench, cut the tall stack of flapjacks with the side of his fork, and shoveled in a huge mouthful.
“You better get a move on, son,” the cook mumbled. “Paulson meant what he said. Wolf that down and make tracks, if you know what’s good for ya.”
Feeling cranky with only two and a half hours of sleep, Dustin stood in front of the barn, speaking with Paulson while waiting for Noah. Manolito stood alongside, the reins of his horse in his hand.
“I don’t want Calhoun to leave your company, Brick, is that understood?” Dustin said to his ranch hand. “If he gets into any trouble, doesn’t matter what, I’ll be held responsible. This isn’t his first brush with the law, and by the way he acts, I’m sure it won’t be his last.”
Sighing, he added, “I have to go to town today, or else I’d break him in myself and show him the ropes. Work him as you would any other wrangler who’d hired on—without letting him out of your sight. Put him through his paces, and don’t go too easy or be too tough. Don’t let him trick you. He’s sharp, and maybe a bit calculating. I’ll be back before supper and check in to see how things go.”
“He’s a Calhoun!” Brick Paulson replied, jerking back his shoulders. “You expect me and the rest of the fellows to turn the other cheek after all the years of grief he’s caused your pa? After everything he’s said about this ranch? We’re loyal to this brand, Dustin, you know that. We don’t take kindly to slander, or that nonsense about how Winston paid to have Calhoun bushwhacked. Anyone that knows your father knows that’s hogwash.”
The ranch hand glanced away, the muscle in his jaw working double-time. “Now we’re supposed to treat him like nothing has happened? It don’t seem right.”
“That’s exactly what I’m asking.”
“What about Winston and Chaim? They feel the same as you?”
Pa? Maybe not quite the same, but he knows how to put aside his own feelings.
“You’re damn right they do. Now, don’t make me angry. Calhoun won’t be here that long.”
Paulson glanced at Manolito and then back at him. “Any amount of time is too long to be bunking with a varmint like him, in my way of thinkin’. You best know, I don’t like this situation at all, or what you’re asking of the men. I can’t promise you anythin’.”
“You don’t get paid to like it, Brick,” Dustin snapped. This setup might be a rougher go for Noah than he’d first thought. “You do as I ask, and let me take care of the others. Understood? This is the Rim Rock. We treat everyone the same. Friend or foe makes no difference.”
Noah rounded the corral fence and pulled up when he saw them waiting in the entry of the barn. He only paused for an instant before continuing toward them with stiff shoulders, and stopped a few feet away. The attitude Dustin had grown used to seeing on their ride from San Antonio was still evident.
“I’m riding into town today, Calhoun. Taking your sister to the telegraph office and then to the hotel, as well as tie up a few other errands. I’m trusting you to stay here with Paulson and behave. You don’t need any more trouble dogging your heels.”
Several hands stood around idly out of curiosity, waiting to see how the boss would handle Calhoun, and their heads whipped in his direction at the mention of a female Calhoun being on the property. He hadn’t shared that part of the story yet with anyone outside the family, and the few who’d met Sidney in town early this morning.
“Manolito’s our head man,” Dustin explained to Noah. “Whatever chore you and Brick are assigned, you’re to complete to his satisfaction. It’s no less than I’d expect out of any man working this ranch.”
“Sure, McCutcheon. You have me at a disadvantage, being my sister is beholden to you.” Noah dropped his hands on his waist. “I’m ready to put in a full day of work for as long as it takes.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Dustin stepped away when he heard Noah call out, “Where’s Sidney?”
“In the house. I haven’t seen her this morning, but I’m sure she’s up by now.”
“The big house?”
Dustin glanced over his shoulder. “Well, she’s not staying in the bunkhouse.”
Noah’s face turned red, and several men laughed as they mounted up and rode out. The kid wasn’t making things any easier on himself by confirming what everyone already thought of him.
Without another word, Dustin walked away.
Chapter Seventeen
Later the same day, with her palms braced on the peeling paint of her hotel room’s windowsill, Sidney glanced below at the inhabitants of Rio Wells.
I’m so far from home. Can’t run back the way I’ve come.
Loneliness closed in around her. She’d been in other towns before as she chased after Noah and his ever-growing wanderlust, namely Roswell, Albuquerque, and Las Cruces, the city of crosses. He’d traveled all the way to Pueblo, Colorado Springs, Denver, and only two months ago, Fort Collins. The lawyer in San Antonio hadn’t known the half of his transgressions.
But being here in Rio Wells was different. Her dismay wasn’t caused by the extra miles or the new territory. This big, scary grip around her chest was related to the fact that Rio Wells was the home of the McCutcheons.
A woman in the postal station attached to the stage office lifted up the window and looked out onto the street, much like Sidney was doing right now. On the same block was a barbershop, a leather smith, and another building that wasn’t marked. All three looked quiet.
She thought of the telegram she’d sent to be delivered to the ranch by Harold Carp. She shuddered. Is Pa reading my plea now?
In the telegraph office, Dustin had insisted on waiting. He’d remained by the door, giving her privacy but all the while staring a hole in the back of her borrowed blouse. He’d said he was waiting so he could escort her to the hotel when she was finished, and get her settled. But his motivations were clear.
He wanted to make sure I wasn’t turned away. Who would extend credit to me, a total stranger in town?
Even though doing so galled her, she’d been forced to accept his loan for the price of the telegram, but that was as far as she’d go.
If the Union Hotel hadn’t accepted her on credit until her father wired the money to the bank, she would have been in trouble. Dustin had remained a perfect gentleman the whole time, in spite of the history between them. Gentleman or not, that didn’t matter. Her father would come through with money, and soon. That she could depend on.
She thought of Dustin now, and the slight look of disapproval he always wore when he addressed her. Well, not always. Not at the badlands shack when he’d been teasing her about her marital status. And not when he’d lifted her atop his horse, concern darkening his eyes as bullets sprayed around her feet.
She crossed the braided rug to the room’s other window and looked out. She’d hated leaving Jackson at the ranch, tied to a post on the bunkhouse porch, but Madeline and Becky had assured her the dog would be fine. In no way could she have cared for him in the hotel and see properly to his needs. As much as she loved him, she knew he was sure to get into mischief, and she already had enough of that with Noah.
A knock sounded on her door.
“Yes?”
“Telegram, Miss Calhoun, the one you’re waiting on.” The telegraph operator. The one who couldn’t stop smiling at her. “I was on my way t
o lunch, so I decided to drop by your missive. I hope you don’t mind.”
Sidney opened the door.
In his mid-thirties, the man stood hat in hand with the same amiable smile she’d already memorized. His dark blond hair receded an inch at the hairline, fell to the side of his tall forehead, and then was tucked behind his ears. He held a folded brown paper in his fingers.
“Thank you,” she said. “Do I owe you something?”
“No. Sender paid the fee on their end. This is free of charge.”
Thank goodness for small favors. I have less than a dollar left to my name.
“What about the delivery? That was very thoughtful. Do I owe you for that?”
He beamed. “No charge.”
She glanced at the note he still clutched close to his chest.
“Oh!”
He extended his arm, and she carefully plucked the telegram from his fingers.
“Thank you again,” she said, hoping he’d step away so she didn’t have to close the door in his face.
He slowly inched back. “My name is Stanton Drake.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Drake,” she said in her most businesslike voice.
He wasn’t making this easy. He’d already learned her name when she sent the communication, and she had no intention of making friends in Rio Wells. The sooner she was out of here, the better.
Seeing his expression dim, she felt a bit uncharitable. He had gone out of his way for her, after all.
She gave him a wide smile. “And again, thank you ever so much for bringing this to me. The gesture was very thoughtful.”
Mr. Drake drew up, smoothing the front of his shirt. “Can I interest you in a bite to eat?” he asked, seeming to rally. “I mean, you being new and all, I’m sure you don’t know the eateries in town. My treat.”
“Thank you, Mr. Drake, but I’ve just eaten.” Her stomach pinched with emptiness, reminding her she’d turned down breakfast with the McCutcheons.
He shrugged. “Can’t blame a fella for trying. Good day to you then, Miss Calhoun. I best be on my way if I want to open again on time.” Seemed not everyone in Rio Wells was put off by the Calhoun name.
Sidney closed the door quietly and opened the paper.
COME HOME STOP THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO FOR NOAH STOP THAT BOY HAS MADE HIS OWN BED STOP
Her hand shook. Did that mean her father wouldn’t send any money for her living expenses? He wanted her to come home now? How did he expect her to do that without any funds? Besides, she’d not leave Noah here alone sentenced to time on the McCutcheon ranch.
Resentment ignited in her belly. How unkind! Couldn’t he even ask how she was, or Noah?
Sidney crumpled the note, pushing back her angry tears. Surely her father would comply once he’d cooled off. This business with the McCutcheons had him seeing red. In a day or two, he’d soften and realize his mistake. He would soften, wouldn’t he?
Turning, she gazed out the far window, her thoughts blinding her to the outside world. Of course he would. She was his only daughter, and he loved her. Before she knew it, funds would arrive at the bank, and all would be well.
She just had to bide her time and be patient.
Chapter Eighteen
Dustin left Sidney Calhoun in her hotel room and exited the building. He needed a bossy Calhoun she-cat with soft curves, a graceful neck, and lush lips about as much as he needed a hole in his temple. She was a Calhoun through and through, and he would be well advised to remember that whenever her airy scent captured his attention.
Just like her old man, she’d like nothing more than to see the McCutcheon brand wither and die. Her bitterness was her badge and she wore it well, in defense of her lying father. Dustin pitied the man who ended up hitched to such a bull-headed woman. She could have at least indulged his mother this morning by eating breakfast.
And now he had Noah Calhoun to keep straight with the law. Two Calhouns to think about was enough to give him a headache, but more, he intended to keep them both out of his pa’s way as best he could. That family had caused his own family, and especially his pa, more heartache than ten years of drought, pestilence, and an avalanche of snowfall combined. A betrayed friendship was the worst hurt of all.
With saddlebags in hand, he strode down the boardwalk toward the bank. He’d pick up the payroll and get back to the ranch. He didn’t like leaving Calhoun—even with Manolito and Paulson looking after him.
The memory of his pa’s face when they’d broken the news pulled at him. His pa thought he was taking their side. Dustin didn’t know how he could be any more loyal when he’d been ordered by a judge to oversee Noah. He hadn’t asked for the job, and had tried his damnedest to get out of it.
Crossing Dry Street, he noticed his cousin John outside his doctor’s office, washing the front window. Dustin turned and headed his way.
John’s sleeves were rolled to the elbow, and a bucket of water sat at his feet. When John saw him approach, he dropped the large sponge he held into the bucket and reached for the towel draped over his shoulder.
“I see you have important business this morning, cousin,” Dustin teased.
They had an on-again off-again running joke—of sorts. Ever since John had wooed Lily Anthony out from under his nose, perhaps it wasn’t such a joke anymore, but they’d both gotten past the matter and were good friends, including Lily.
John laughed good-naturedly. “Someone has to do it, cousin.” He gave his work a dubious stare. “Not leaving streaks behind is more difficult than you’d think.”
Dustin lifted an eyebrow, astounded John didn’t mind what he was doing, and actually looked to be enjoying the chore.
“Better you than me, I guess,” he responded. “I suppose if I had a place here in town, I’d want to keep the condition up as well.”
An unusual expression pulled at John’s mouth. He toed at a nonexistent something on the boardwalk. “That may be the case, but you’d have the funds to hire someone to do the work for you.”
What isn’t John saying? “True enough.”
“I’m surprised to see you in town today, Dustin. Didn’t you only get back to the ranch last night?” The worry lines on John’s forehead had disappeared and his demeanor was back to normal.
Dustin hoped there wasn’t trouble brewing between the newlyweds.
“Picking up payroll at the bank.”
“Today? Alone?” John glanced around and then back at Dustin.
Every other Wednesday was the usual pickup day for the Rim Rock, and funds doled out to the ranch hands on Friday.
“I’m not going it alone; I have a couple hands waiting at the bank. Colin Jorgensen, the new owner of the bank, is being quite obliging. I told him I wouldn’t be in for payroll on Wednesday, like usual, since Chaim and I would still be in San Antonio, and he said that wasn’t a problem. Any day was fine, he said, as long as he had notice. Quite a change from Shellston, who liked to control the air we breathe. I’m relieved to know that scoundrel got what was coming to him.”
“My thoughts exactly. The way he treated Lily and Harriett when they first arrived in Rio Wells still sets my blood pumping.”
“Well, Jorgensen wants to make a good impression on the town. Rebuild trust in the bank after the fiasco with Shellston. He’s even had several families follow him south from Wisconsin. He purchased a bunch of deserted homesteads to resell at very competitive prices to bring new blood into Rio Wells. That’s smart. And his plan is working. He also said a new merchant is opening a mercantile and dry goods store on Church Street.” Dustin shook his head. “Jorgensen is a wealth of information. I learned more in an hour’s talk with him than a month of Sundays.”
“I’ve already met the new merchant,” John said with a satisfied nod of the head. “Man, wife, and five daughters.”
Dustin’s eyes opened wide. “Five! My sisters and mother will be happy to hear that.”
“As well as all the bachelors around town. Mr. Knutson will be ve
ry popular.” John’s face darkened. “Bixby told me about the Calhouns. Why’re they in town?”
“I’ve been put in charge of Noah until he can pay off a fine he incurred in San Antonio. His sister followed, worried over our treatment of him.”
John scoffed.
“Yeah. I feel the same. Anyway, it’s a long, convoluted story. I’ll retell the sorry account sometime over a—”
“Morning, Dustin, John,” a female voice called.
Martha Brown stood with her young daughter, Candy, in front of Grady’s Mercantile after exiting the store. They walked slowly toward the two men.
“Morning, Martha,” John said. “Candy, how does that tummy feel today? Better?”
The child nodded.
“Mornin’,” Dustin added, unable to miss the wide smile Martha shot his way.
She was nice enough, trim and pretty, but Daniel’s widow couldn’t understand he wasn’t interested in that way. He didn’t mind the attention she showered on him, just as long as she didn’t read her desires into his actions.
He’d never want to hurt her feelings. Daniel had been a good friend, so Dustin watched out for Martha and Candy, as all the townsfolk did. But he couldn’t marry her. She deserved a man who loved her for herself.
“Did Miss Emmeline get off on the train all right?” she asked.
She and Emmeline had formed a friendship in the few months his brother’s intended had lived in Rio Wells.
“She did,” he said. “And promises to be back before she’s missed.”
“Well, that’s not possible because I miss her already. And I’m sure Chaim does as well. I wouldn’t have had the nerve to take such a long trip with my wedding date so close.”
My thought exactly.
“But then, Emmeline has proven she’s brave after traveling alone to Texas in the first place,” she went on. “Think of those train stops and strangers.” Martha glanced down at Candy, who was playing a counting game on her fingers as she waited for her mother to finish her conversation and move on.
Texas Lonesome Page 11
