Heard tell, old man Draper was a hell of a salesman. He’d have to be to get others to stay on and help build the place on the very edge of the prairie, with roving bands of Comancheros and Indians. Sidney didn’t know it, but they’d been traversing McCutcheon land for the last few miles. Most likely would rile her if she knew.
“’Bout the prettiest land God created,” he said, gazing out across a sea of brown grass. Texas was in his blood. He’d never be happy anywhere else.
From the corner of his eye, he caught her nodding.
“Sure is. Much different from our place in Santa Fe. Our ranch is greener. Cooler.” She glanced at the sun. “Higher in the mountains.”
“You’re a Texan.”
She tossed him a look.
“Born here, weren’t ya?”
She nodded.
“Well, that makes you a Texan, even if your family moved out. Can’t change the facts. Once a Texan, always a Texan.”
Now a good distance from Rio Wells, Dustin reached back in his saddlebag and pulled out the loaf of wrapped bread he’d procured from the Cheddar Box Café, as well as a wax-paper-wrapped package of thinly sliced beef.
Her eyes widened.
He felt guilty, softening her with food. “When we’re finished with this, I have dessert.” He lifted out a can of peaches he’d bought at the mercantile. He’d also brought two canteens, one filled with water and another with apple cider, all things he’d rounded up as Sidney had been changing her clothes.
The food went down easily as they rode, and much quicker than he’d expected. She wasn’t shy. More than eating the food himself, he enjoyed watching her indulge. She’d relaxed, softened. Her laughter had a way of making him smile.
He handed over the canteen of water and she took several long pulls, wiping away a few drops from her chin with the back of her wrist. He liked that she wasn’t all stuffy and caught up with being so proper that one had to walk on eggshells around her.
“McCutcheon?”
He’d caught sight of a deer, and watched it dart away before he looked over. She had the canteen held out to him. The sun brought a sheen to her face, and wisps of hair pulled free of the restraint that kept her hair pulled back on her neck.
“You keep it. I’ve another here.” He uncapped the lid to the apple cider, took a drink, and smacked his lips.
Her gaze searched his. “Beer?”
He chuckled innocently. “No. But I like the way you think. Cider. Would you like a taste?”
She stared at him and then at the canteen.
He’d sipped first on purpose. Wanted her to consider the possibilities. Get her thinking in the right direction. I should be ashamed, but I’m not.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
Good girl.
He laughed, sat back in his saddle, and handed her the canteen. He’d steered the conversation to her childhood, but she’d artfully diverted the questions back onto him. He was sure she held many hurts inside. But the food had mellowed her mood and she was being generous with her smiles, and for now, that was all Dustin cared about.
When all the food was gone, he filled her in about Diaz Sanchez, and that the old Mexican remembered two brothers from the time around the attack on her father, but not their specific names. Diaz had always wondered why one of them quit when word got around about what happened to Calhoun.
The lead wasn’t much to go on, but something was better than nothing. If Dustin was to have a future with Sidney, he needed to clear his family’s name, one way or another.
Chapter Forty-Three
When they reached Draper Bottom, Dustin pulled his mount to a halt in front of a run-down box of a mercantile. They’d passed two saloons, the only places in town that were doing any type of business.
“I’ll ask inside. See what they know. The settlement doesn’t have a sheriff or a mayor, or just about anything.” He flipped his reins over the hitching rail. “You coming?”
Sidney dismounted. “Of course.”
An old man was slouched in a chair behind the counter.
Dustin picked up a package of tobacco. He wasn’t a fan, but someone in the bunkhouse would be interested. Better to make friends by making a purchase before he asked for information. Sidney stood quietly at his side, the immensity of the moment written on her face. The good name of one of their fathers was on the line, and might be proven wrong or right. He was confident the outcome would go his way.
Dustin gently cleared his throat.
The old man snorted loudly and then sucked in a deep breath. A moment later, his eyes opened and his chin lifted. He focused.
“Well, howdy,” he said, slowly coming to his feet. “Didn’t hear ya come in, young man. What can I do ya for?” A gap-toothed grin was directed at Sidney. “And you, ma’am.”
With a finger, Dustin pushed forward the pouch of tobacco.
“Oh, sure. That’ll be a nickel.”
“Thank you,” Dustin replied. He pulled out the coin and placed the money on the counter.
“Say, don’t I know you?” the old man asked as he narrowed his gaze.
“You might.” Dustin chuckled. “The name’s McCutcheon, over from Rio Wells. This is Sidney Calhoun.”
“That’s right,” he replied slowly, still looking Dustin over. “I’ve seen you around here a time or two. Welcome to Draper Bottom. We’re a quiet little place, nothin’ like Rio Wells, I’d imagine. Ain’t never been there myself.”
Dustin lifted the tobacco and pushed it into his front pocket. Leaning on the counter, he looked around and said, “I was wondering if you might know a fella by the name of Law or Shorty Harris? Might be between forty and fifty years old. I’m not sure.”
The clerk scratched his chin. After a few moments, he shook his head. “Can’t say as I do. Neither of those names rings any bells. Sorry. There’re a lot of bleached bones between here and San Antonio. Maybe those fellas ya named are some of ’em.”
“Could be,” Dustin replied. He turned and looked around the store. “But I hope not. Newson around?”
“Oh, sure.” The man’s scratchy voice perked up. “Just walk anywhere down the street, and you’ll find him somewhere. And if that don’t work, go around to his icehouse. He ain’t hard ta find.”
“We’ll do that. Thanks”—he patted the pocket over his chest—“for the smokes.”
Sidney turned and walked with him out onto the porch.
When she sighed, he said, “We’ve only just begun. I hope you’re not giving up yet.”
“Do you really think after twenty years someone will remember something, something that would either condemn or clear your father?”
He studied her downturned mouth. “Yes, I do.”
“You’re a better man than me, McCutcheon.”
“I hope so, Calhoun. I seriously do.” He nudged her with his shoulder and smiled. “Let’s go find Newson.”
After walking the streets, and no one admitting knowing the Harris brothers, Dustin and Sidney veered toward Newson’s icehouse, the place that had recently held the outlaws captive until the marshal could arrive.
“McCutcheon, you back again so soon?”
He turned to see Newson hurrying their way.
“That’s him,” Dustin said under his breath. “I hope he can shed a little light.”
After introductions and a few words of greeting, Dustin got down to business, but the man only shook his head. Refusing to be discouraged, Dustin thanked him and moved on.
“What now?” Sidney asked.
“We’ll go see another acquaintance of mine. Alistair Fry. Owns the forge and livery.” He pointed down a side street. “It’s just down this way.”
A sweaty-faced Alistair looked up when they walked into the small, exceptionally hot shed. “Dustin!
“I know, I know,” Dustin said, grasping the man’s beefy hand. “I just couldn’t stay away.”
“Guess not. Only been a few days since you were last here.” He took his time looking
Sidney over until she raised her chin. “You’ll be happy to know I got good news.”
Alistair grasped Dustin’s arm and led him into the adjoining stable. Dustin glanced at Sidney and shrugged.
Sidney stopped in her tracks. “My horse!”
“You betcha,” he proudly said. “Came in looking for water yesterday morn. Couldn’t get to my trough in my back pasture, so he stood at the fence just waiting for someone to see him.” He wagged his brows at Dustin. “Been on the lookout for him since you mentioned it, Dustin. With the outlaws and Comancheros, it’s pretty amazing that he’s here at all. And it’s especially astonishing your money and possessions are still inside.”
Sidney gasped. “I can’t believe this.”
Alistair unlocked a large wooden cabinet and swung the door wide, hefting out Sidney’s saddlebags, and then handed them over.
Dustin thought she would cry. She hugged the leather to her chest, and a grateful smile blossomed on her face.
“Thank you. Thank you so much!” At first, her words were directed at Alistair, but soon her attention slipped over to Dustin.
Her eyes softened as she reached out and touched his arm, the first contact she’d ever willingly given him. His chest filled with warmth.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You did. You asked Mr. Fry to be on the lookout,” she added with a smile. “That was very thoughtful.”
She knelt, set the bags on the ground, and pulled out a large object from one side. “The music box for Carmen’s birthday. I thought I’d lost it.” She pointed to a delicate outline of a bird inlaid in the memento’s lid. “She loves birds and music. I thought it the perfect gift.”
Carmen? Another mystery. “Your purchase in the San Antonio mercantile?”
Her face colored with emotion, she nodded. This was a side of Sidney he’d never seen.
In one fluid movement, she stood and wrapped her arms around the livery owner, making him sputter in surprise.
“No need for this, young lady. I’m happy to do whatever I can for my good friend Dustin McCutcheon. He looks out for me as well.”
Dustin was warmed by his friend’s fine declaration.
“I was getting ready to ride over to Rio Wells and deliver the horse and rig myself. Now I don’t have to.” He gave a toothy grin. “It’s a good day.”
That it was. And maybe a good time to see what he knew, if anything, about the Harris brothers.
When Dustin put his arm over Sidney’s shoulder, he noticed she didn’t pull away. “Let’s go back out into the sunshine so we can talk.”
“Sure,” Alistair said, stepping out the door and into the noontime light. “How long ya staying?” he asked, looking at him and then eyeing Sidney.
He’s just realized we rode out here alone.
“Not long,” Dustin replied. “We’re looking for information—old information. As soon as we ask around, we’ll be heading back.”
“What are you waiting on? Spit it out.”
Sidney was hanging on his every word, her saddlebags clutched in her arms. Her changed attitude struck him, and he couldn’t even imagine her tough outer facade any longer. The softness was back in her eyes, and he wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let anything in the world hurt her.
“We’re looking for two brothers with the last name of Harris. They worked at the ranch some twenty years ago.”
Fry planted his hands on his hips. “You think they’re here in Draper Bottom?”
“Don’t know. It’d be a stretch, but I heard their family once lived somewhere around here. Law or Shorty. Either one.”
“Law or Shorty Harris?” the blacksmith mumbled.
Someone called out from down the street and he waved, distracted for only a moment.
“Sorry, Dustin, but I’ve never heard of either one. You know I pretty much know everyone, down to the town drunk that lives out back of the saloons and steals whiskey whenever the opportunity presents itself.” He shook his head. “I ain’t never heard of either one.”
Disappointment crashed down on Dustin’s shoulders. Was uncovering the facts so old, so hurtful, even possible? He wanted to be the one to unearth the truth for his father’s sake, as well as for him and Sidney. The only thing that kept his spirits buoyed was knowing they still had a couple of hours together on the ride home.
“We best be going. Don’t want to get her back too late. First, though, I need to ask around in both the saloons. Maybe someone there knows something.”
Alistair nodded. “I’ll get Miss Calhoun’s horse saddled up.”
Sidney extracted several dollars from inside. “Please take this reward, Mr. Fry. I never thought I’d see my things again.” She touched the side of the bag. “Or my dress.”
“Put away your money.” He gave her a stern look. “I insist.”
“That’s very kind. While you’re in the saloons, I’ll go up and down and ask in the shops,” Sidney said, turning to Dustin.
“That won’t take you long.” With a large hand, Alistair shaded his eyes and shook his head sadly. “Aren’t but two other businesses besides the mercantile and saloons. And one of ’em’s mine.”
“Fine,” Dustin replied, holding in his frustration. “I’ll meet you back here.”
Somewhere, somehow, he needed a lead on the Harris brothers if he wanted to clear the way for him and Sidney. Problem was, there wasn’t a lead to be found.
Chapter Forty-Four
On the trail back to Rio Wells, Sidney rode the palomino mare and led the gelding she’d never expected to see again.
“Isn’t life curious?” she asked, thinking of the money that had been restored, her dress, and Carmen’s birthday present. She felt as if circumstances were looking up, even if they hadn’t found any new evidence.
“I ponder that every day, Calhoun.”
In a crinkling of dry wings, a grasshopper landed on Dustin’s left shoulder. He looked down at the caramel-colored insect, his crooked grin appearing.
“Hey, little fella. You comin’ along for the ride?”
She sucked in a breath.
He looked her way. “What’s wrong? I wouldn’t expect you to be squeamish around bugs.”
“I’m not. Carmen says if a grasshopper lands on your left shoulder, you can expect misfortune. Brush it off, Dustin!”
She couldn’t keep her voice from shaking when she said his name. Misfortune? What more could happen to Dustin? He’d been saddled with her brother, and now her. The last thing she wanted was to make his life more dangerous than it already was.
“Are you superstitious?” he asked, his grin broadening. He still hadn’t removed the creature from his shoulder, which he playfully lifted. “And who is Carmen anyway? You mentioned her earlier when your music box was recovered.”
When the grasshopper turned and stared Sidney straight in the face, she raised her hand to block the look. She didn’t care that humor now shone in Dustin’s eyes.
“At first she was only our housekeeper, but when my mother passed away giving birth to Noah, she stepped in to help, being a surrogate to me and my brothers. She’s been with us all these years.”
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Losing your mama so young must have been very difficult for you, the only daughter.”
His tone sent a bevy of pleasant shivers up her neck. “At times.”
“What was she like?”
Sidney swallowed down a lump of sorrow and lowered her hand. “Affectionate.” She glanced over to him, holding his gaze. “And supportive.” All the things Pa’s not. “I just wish I could have had her a little longer.”
He nodded as if he understood her feelings, but she didn’t think that possible. Not in the mood to talk about herself, she gestured to the “little fella” still riding along. She wished he’d bat the creepy bug off.
“Carmen’s superstitious. Has a saying for almost every situation under the sun.”
“Don’t worry about him.” Seemed the grasshopper wa
s determined to ride all the way back to Rio Wells. “He’s just looking for something green to eat. Doesn’t want to cause any harm—or make bad luck.”
Embarrassed for creating such a commotion over a belief that seemed silly to him, she said, “You gave Lily a four-leaf clover for good luck on her first day in the shop. What’s that, if not a bit superstitious?”
His face actually colored up.
She laughed. “Ah, that’s different, right? Got you on that one, McCutcheon. What’s your explanation?”
“I just wanted to give her something to . . .” His sentence faded away.
“Remember you by? Every time the gift caught her eye, she’d think of you? Maybe recall the words you’d shared.” She turned toward him in the saddle. “Let’s talk about that for a while. Was there a war between cousins for her affections?”
He kept his gaze trained straight ahead.
She was glad she’d brought up Lily. In reality, she had wondered about the two.
“A war? No, I wouldn’t say that. I’d say a very strenuous, semi-friendly competition. You see, when John first came to town, he was engaged to another woman, and so was off-limits. While traveling here, Lily had fallen in love with him, but she chose me by default because he was taken. I always felt her heart belonged to him, but I didn’t want to believe such a travesty.”
He laughed. “But when John and Emmeline broke off their engagement, John was free. Only a few days passed before the two got together.”
Sidney gasped. “Emmeline? As in Chaim and Emmeline?”
He nodded. “That’s another story altogether.”
At that moment, the grasshopper took flight. The insect hopped toward Sidney, its crinkling tan wings clacking with a terrifying premonition.
She screeched and batted it away.
“Geez, Sidney, I thought you were kidding me about not liking the grasshopper.”
“I wasn’t.” Feeling foolish, she wanted to change the subject as quick as possible. “When we get back today, I’d like to treat you to a fancy dinner in the Lillian Russell Room. The aromas have been taunting me since I checked into the hotel. Now that I have the funds, I’d like to take you as my guest. If you hadn’t told Mr. Fry about my horse, and to be on the lookout, then I might never have had my money and belongings returned. I owe you.”
Texas Lonesome Page 23
