Love. Relationships. Dustin would have wondered if they were worth the time and effort at all if he didn’t remember Sidney’s warmth tonight as she sat at his side.
“Well, I guess I’ll turn in,” he mumbled, gazing at the house.
A deep loneliness crept into his bones. He’d never choose the Calhouns over his pa. That was hogwash.
But what about Sidney? His heart trembled at his answer. Could he break his father’s heart, as well as his spirit? That’s what would happen if he entertained any more of these whims he’d been having since running into her in San Antonio. He needed to get his head on straight. Prioritize his values.
“Something on your mind, Dustin? I know you’re not just standing out here taking in the sight of the corral.”
Dustin grasped his brother’s shoulder. “Not much of anything important. Just checking on you.”
Chaim chuckled. “Thanks, brother. I’m doing fine.”
The huskiness of Chaim’s voice said otherwise. Dustin would keep a close watch on him. Not get caught up in his own troubles and forget his brother was going through a really rough time.
He turned from the house and took several steps before Chaim said, “Where’re you off to? The house is that way.”
“Just thought of something I want to check on.”
“Noah?”
“Nope.”
“Need any help?”
“Sure don’t. I’ll catch you in the morning, brother. We have a day of cattle sorting to get finished.”
Inspiration had hit Dustin like a windfall. Why hadn’t he thought of this before? Because his pa was always playing down any talk of the lies Jock Calhoun spouted. The last five years had been pretty quiet, only catching glimpses of the Calhouns when they hit the stockyard. Since there was no fixing the problem, ignoring any talk was the best action to take. One man’s word against another man’s word was a special kind of hell.
Now that he had a definite purpose in mind, Dustin walked quickly in the moonlight, alongside the barn and then striding along the sandy wagon trail that passed the bunkhouse. The track meandered through a patch of ironwood and scrub oaks until it opened on this side of the main horse pasture, where a small cabin was nestled under a few loblolly pines. A light glowed in the window, and for that Dustin was thankful. Until he had a chance to flush out these ideas rolling around in his head, he’d not get any sleep.
Diaz Sanchez resided here alone, retired now, quietly living out his remaining days in solitude. The ancient Mexican seldom ventured up to the bunkhouse anymore where he’d lived since the ranch was first built. Maria cooked his meals, and another woman saw to the cleaning of his small cabin. Except for his failing eyesight, his bent old body was in darn good shape for his eighty-five years.
Dustin knocked on the door.
“Hola?” a scratchy voice called out. Sounded as if he’d been asleep.
“Señor Sanchez, it’s Dustin McCutcheon. May I come in?”
“Sí, sí, Dustin. Come in, por favor.”
Dustin ducked under the low door frame. He stepped inside, taking in the neat room, the faint scents of rosemary and garlic still lingering on the air from the evening meal, and the wide smile on the man’s face.
“Sit,” Diaz said, gesturing to the chair to his left. “Get comfortable, amigo. Something important has brought you out late this evening. How can I help?”
Dustin shook his head in amazement as he lowered himself into the chair. “You know me pretty good, don’t you, amigo? There’re no secrets kept from Diaz Sanchez.”
The old man beamed.
No one knew his full history except that when he’d signed on, he’d said he was the only remaining person in his family line. All had been slaughtered by renegades deep in southern Mexico. After he’d hired on with Winston McCutcheon, he never quit the ranch, never took a wife, and never spoke of his past.
As a boy, Dustin had asked Diaz several times about his past, being an inquisitive kid, but the man had a way of talking around a question so long a young mind forgot where the conversation had started. A sly old fox wrapped in a lamb’s coat, Dustin was sure.
“I’d like to talk to you about the early days. A few years after the ranch was established and was growing. Do you remember back then?”
Diaz’s gnarled hands moved up and gripped the arms of his chair. “My mind is as good now as it was back then. I remember everything!”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Sidney tossed and turned, haunted by dark, probing eyes and a slash of chiseled lips, sometimes mocking, sometimes teasing, and all the time desirable. Every time they came close, and she thought they were about to kiss her, the face came into focus and transformed into that of her older brother Jock Jr.
In her dream, he scowled and pointed an accusing finger. You’ve sold out to the enemy. You, a Calhoun, are in love with a McCutcheon!
No! That’s not true! I’ve done no such thing. I’m watching over Noah, making sure he doesn’t make his problems worse.
She blinked and opened her eyes. The creamy haze of morning, brush-stroked with pinks and golds, filtered through her windowpane. The hotel was quiet, as was the town. The air felt cool on her skin.
Four days had passed since the dinner in the alley with Dustin. Four days to wonder about him as he hadn’t made an appearance in the store since. Four days to dwell on her insecurities, going over each and every word of their conversation.
Such thoughts . . .
Sidney pulled the blanket around her neck and snuggled in, pushing away her troubled feelings. One by one, events from the past paraded through her mind. From Dustin yanking her off her feet from the sandy badlands desert floor and onto the back of his horse, then galloping away, to him smiling into her face, filling her with happiness. Dustin calling her old, and then waiting for her to take the bait. Dustin’s voice making ripples of awareness move through her body.
Why couldn’t Gibson Harp be swoon worthy like that? The thirty-five-year-old merchant in Santa Fe, the one who believed he was courting her, was nice looking and said all the right things. He went out of his way to make her feel special. She’d gladly say yes to his proposal if he could make her heart trip over itself with only a look, like Dustin could. Or sent a bevy of tingles racing through her body each time he happened to touch her arm.
Dustin McCutcheon. The devil in a cowboy hat. That man had cast his spell over her well and good. She’d not forget him anytime soon.
She rolled to her side, taking in the ever-lightening sky on the other side of the glass as she tucked her hands beneath her cheek. What awaited her back in Santa Fe? On the ranch, or even as a wife to Gibson Harp? After her time spent in Rio Wells, even living off of thirty-five cents a day, her prospects seemed bleak.
As a woman, she held no stock in the workings of the family ranch, not like the rest of her brothers. Her father had said her mother’s jewelry belonged to her, but she’d not seen it. Other than that, she was more or less a hired hand around there. She had some money, but not enough to start a business of her own like Lily McCutcheon. The thought of her feisty employer brought a smile to her lips.
Lily. She had it all. A trade that brought her pleasure, gave her an outlet to be creative, and made money to boot. From her short time working in the shop, Sidney had ascertained her employer was well respected far and wide. The finished products set tongues wagging. She accomplished the feat with ease and humility, as if fashioning a gown of exquisite quality was as easy as baking bread. Her cowboy-doctor husband clearly worshiped the ground she walked on. Love in abundance existed between them, which seemed to multiply every time Sidney was around the two.
A sigh escaped her lips, and she realized she needed to get up and get moving. Today was a workday. She had three hours before she’d report to the shop, but that didn’t mean she should lay about slovenly like a lazybones.
A knock on her door brought her wide awake.
“Sidney, are you in there?”
Lily.
Sidney jumped up, pulled the quilt off the bed, and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Coming.”
She hurried to the door and pulled it open. There stood Lily, looking clean and fresh with a basket, and what looked to be two folded garments in her arms. She smiled warmly.
“Please, come in.” Sidney swept her arm, gesturing her boss inside. “I apologize for not being dressed. I was just lying about, thinking.”
“No worries. It’s only seven o’clock. Much too early for a proper call.”
Lily went to the small table next to the window and set down the basket. She extracted several cloth-covered plates from within and placed them on the tabletop next to the lantern and a copy of the newspaper.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I brought you a little something.” She flicked her hand at the veritable feast waiting to be consumed. She hadn’t yet mention the clothes she’d nonchalantly placed on the bed as she’d crossed the room. “Go on. It’s two poached eggs with toast and jam.” She set the basket at her feet.
Heaven. Just hearing the names of the items made Sidney’s stomach rumble. “Lily, you must stop spoiling me so. Thanks to you, I now have funds to feed myself until my father sends the money he’s promised.”
The money is coming, isn’t it? He didn’t really promise me anything. I must check at the bank today.
“You hush. Thirty-five cents a day is hardly enough to keep a snail alive. If I want to make sure you have energy to get through the workday, I will. Besides, I didn’t set out to bring you breakfast. Dustin stopped by and left you a note. Instead of waiting for you to come in at ten, I thought you might like it now.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and laughed. “It’s so much fun playing Cupid.”
A note from Dustin? Dread washed through Sidney. Please don’t let it be bad news about Noah.
“And we can also go downstairs and have a cup of peppermint tea in the restaurant. It’s my treat.” Lily held out a small piece of white paper folded in half. “Go on and read it, and then eat. I’ll go see if we’re too early to take a table downstairs.”
Sidney nodded as she lifted the missive from Lily’s fingers.
Lily lifted one of the garments on the bed and shook it out. “These are from my friend Martha Brown. She doesn’t mind in the least lending them to you, so no fretting.”
Sidney held the brown corduroy skirt up to her waist as Lily unfolded a nicely ironed yellow blouse. Yesterday, they’d discovered Lily’s things were a bit too snug on her.
“They’re lovely. Again, thank you for all your kindnesses.”
Lily gestured to the armoire that held Madeline’s skirt and Becky’s blouse. “Be sure to bring in the garments you’ve been wearing, and we’ll wash and iron them today. Then you’ll have two outfits.”
Wanting to die of shame, Sidney smiled her thanks. What could she do? She hated taking such charity, but she had no other choice. Now she knew how the poor mother in San Antonio felt. Thankful and humbled at the same time.
“Having something new to wear will be nice. Thank you so much, Lily.”
“Eat the eggs before they’re cold. I’ll see you downstairs. I have another surprise I think you’ll like once we have our tea, so hurry.”
As soon as the door closed, Sidney opened the note.
Dear Sidney,
We’ve been sorting cattle the last few days, making getting to Rio Wells impossible.
First, let me say, Noah is fine. I know that’s the first thing that would jump into your head when you saw this note. He’s healthy, following orders, and keeping to himself.
That said, keeping Noah out of my father’s sight is increasingly difficult. To make things easier, I kept Noah with me, and we camped out by the herd.
She heard what he wasn’t saying. That staying out was unwarranted, just to keep Noah out of trouble, out of sight, and protect his father. Dustin’s compassion for his father’s feelings was noteworthy.
Leaving him for long in the bunkhouse is not a good idea. I don’t want to see anyone else get hurt. I can’t guarantee someone in our employ won’t start a fight, even though they have been warned with termination.
Such distraction! And inconvenience! Dustin was undertaking a lot of trouble for the Calhouns. Even to the point of threatening his own ranch hands. Most men wouldn’t give a whit if Noah didn’t fare well at the hands of the help. Her heart shuddered.
For that reason, I’ve made a decision I hope I don’t regret. I’m assigning him to John, to help him set up the barn for his new business. Noah swears he won’t cause trouble. I’m trusting his word. I believe Noah respects and maybe even admires John. If you’re reading this note, then you can be assured your brother is already in town and is in good hands.
Respectfully yours,
Dustin
Noah! Here in town! Here with Dustin’s blessing and his trust, her brother would behave.
Sidney stared long and hard at the missive, unwarranted dread swirling around in her empty stomach. Noah wouldn’t go and do something stupid, would he? He’s been running off at the drop of a hat, and you wonder that! Ashamed for her faithless thoughts, she considered all that Dustin was doing to protect not only his father, but her brother as well. And if she were honest, for her.
Jerking the quilt from her shoulders, Sidney tossed the covering back on the bed. With shaky hands, she stepped into the skirt Lily had brought and shimmied the garment over her hips. As fast as she could go, she fastened the hook and eye behind her back and reached for the blouse.
Lily was waiting. Maybe the other surprise she’d alluded to was walking to where Noah worked with John. She felt frantic. Somewhere along the way, Dustin’s opinion of her and her family had become important. Dustin, as well as the other McCutcheons. Lily, John . . . even Winston. They’d all been so kind.
Grasping a comb off the dresser, she ran the tool through her hair. Having no time for fussy styles, she quickly plaited her tresses down her back and let the braid swing. Using the same water she’d washed in last night, she splashed her face, briskly toweled dry, and brushed her teeth.
Taking a second to examine the results of her toilette, Sidney pinched both cheeks several times until they stung. She couldn’t wait to get downstairs to see what Lily was talking about.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“On the count of three . . .”
Dustin and Noah grasped the bulky wooden crate, lifted it, and walked the cumbersome piece out the barn door to the wagon that would move the trunk to Mr. Knutson’s other barn. The new merchant had generously offered this barn to John for a dollar a month. The hard dirt floor was uneven under Dustin’s boots, making the going slow.
“Gently, please,” Mr. Knutson said, following while wringing his hands. “Right there. Next to the blue one.”
The Wisconsinite pointed to the other six crates they’d already loaded in the wagon. Longish dark blond hair was still thick for his middle age.
“I don’t quite remember what’s inside, but I know it’s important. Belongs to my missus.” He scratched his head. “Or one of my girls. Anyway, it’s traveled intact all the way from Milwaukee, and I wouldn’t like to see anything be broken now.”
John followed with a box hefted in his arms, his clothes already marred with dirt and sweat. Tucker was last with an armful of gardening tools.
Dustin had presented his dilemma about Noah to his cousin, and then offered him Noah’s help. John had been overwhelmed with gratitude. Since Tucker only had one hand, lifting large objects was a difficult task. Noah’s strength would be appreciated.
John clamped Dustin firmly on the shoulder. “You showed up just in time, cousin. I don’t know how I can thank you for staying to help. Does a man good to have family nearby.”
Dustin chuckled. “You’re laying on the horse puckey mighty thick today, John. No need for that. I’m happy to help if I can.” He nodded toward Noah. “Just make sure this fellow never leaves your sight. I mean it. I trust him, but a
lso need to follow Judge Halford’s orders. In my way of thinking, one McCutcheon is as good as another.” He trained John with a meaningful look. “When I’m done in the late afternoon, I’ll ride back in and collect him.”
Noah listened to the discussion, his face a blank slate.
Figuring out Sidney’s younger brother was a challenge. He seemed sincere about toeing the line. After the time spent with him camping under the stars, and the conversations they’d had, Dustin wanted to trust the fellow. But he had to remember Noah was a Calhoun. And that didn’t bode well.
Maybe he’s just waiting for me to let down my guard. No telling the havoc he could cause if he wanted to.
“That’s a lot of extra riding,” John said. “You sure you want to do that? Noah could take my old room upstairs at the doctor’s office. It’s vacant. Bixby and Tucker won’t mind.”
“No doing. Too risky.”
Without saying a word, Noah shrugged and then ambled into the barn through the tall, propped-open doors. The four followed him in, and John commenced to show Dustin around.
A rapping sounded on the barn doorjamb. “Knock, knock,” Lily’s voice called out. “May we come in?”
Dustin turned to see Lily and Sidney, the latter going up on tiptoe to reach her brother’s cheek with a kiss. Standing next to Noah, she looked quite small.
He wanted to talk to her, tell her the things he’d learned the other night from Diaz Sanchez, but he wasn’t quite ready. He needed to do a little more digging first. Get more information.
“Lily!” John strutted forward. “I wasn’t expecting to see you. Or you either, Miss Calhoun. Please come into my—” he looked back over his shoulder to Tucker and Dustin, “into our new office and manufacturing facility.”
John’s puffed-out chest reminded Dustin of a proud father. You’d think he’d just given birth to this barn.
Texas Lonesome Page 19
