“Have a minute to talk?” his pa asked.
Talk was the last thing he felt like, but he and his father were walking a thin line. Dustin didn’t want to make matters worse.
“Sure. I’m not getting any sleep now.”
In the office, Dustin dropped onto the sofa and scrubbed a hand across his whiskered chin. A nagging in his gut said he shouldn’t have left town. As soon as he bathed, shaved, and grabbed a bite to eat, he’d head straight back.
His father watched him get comfortable before asking, “Things going all right?”
“They were until Jock and Sidney’s oldest brother showed up in Rio Wells last night.”
Winston lowered the coffee mug he’d just picked up without taking a drink. “Just what I feared. Backed into a corner, there’s no telling what those two will do. Did you speak with them?”
He nodded.
“Tell them your plans with Miss Calhoun?”
He nodded again. “Her name’s Sidney.”
A few moments passed before his pa spoke. Something strange was behind his eyes, a look Dustin had never seen before.
“Maybe it’s for the best they show up now, Dustin. A union between you and Sidney would only bring her heartbreak. Have you thought about that? They’re a proud family, much like us. If you gave her up now, she could find someone else. She’s beautiful. And smart. A woman like her wouldn’t have any trouble in the least.”
Even though Dustin had expected as much, he stilled, his father’s words cutting him to the core. Had he been wrong? Would his family never accept her?
“I can’t believe you just said that. Sidney and I are getting married on Saturday. I hope you’ll stomach the idea long enough to come and give us your blessing.”
His father stared back, unmoved. “Think long and hard. Some obstacles are too wide to jump, son. You’re taking on more than you can handle.”
Unable to listen another moment, Dustin surged to his feet, intent on leaving before he said something he’d regret. He loved his father and respected him. He couldn’t understand why the man wouldn’t soften on this issue.
A clamoring at the front door brought them around, and Switchback burst into the room.
“Fire in Rio Wells!” he shouted. “At the Knutsons’.” That was all he said before the cook rushed out the door.
“Where’s Noah Calhoun?” his pa called out.
“Don’t know, boss,” came the man’s reply.
Dustin bolted past Switchback, saddled up, and galloped away, not waiting for anyone.
When Dustin arrived in town, Knutson’s barn was engulfed in flames—along with John’s good efforts.
A line of men passed buckets from several water pumps along the street. Halfway down the block, Billy Burger leaned on a crutch as he worked the iron handle with his massive arms, sending water gushing from a spigot. Bucket-toting men crowded around.
Spotting John at the forefront, Dustin pushed through the throng of men. Blistering heat licked his face as the orange-yellow flames crackled and popped. He grasped John’s shoulder.
“Have you seen Sidney?” he yelled.
“No,” John yelled back.
“What about Lily?”
“She’s home, where I told her to stay and keep watch from the second-story window! I don’t want her to be caught unprepared in case the fire spreads.”
Cradle ran forward and pitched a bucket of water onto the fire, the action followed by a loud hiss. The man next to John hefted him a full bucket, and John did the same. Half the structure was gone, and Dustin figured they were trying to keep the flames contained. Joining together, the men worked endlessly until the fuel had been consumed and the last flame burned out.
The exhausted men stared motionless at the enormous black pile of rubble on the ground that an hour earlier had been Mr. Knutson’s barn and the McCutcheon, Noble, McCutcheon venture. Chaim was shoulder to shoulder with Stanton Drake, Doc Bixby, Colin Jorgensen, and even the disgraced ex-mayor Fred Billingsworth. Their clothes were blackened and wet. All the ranch hands from the Rim Rock were there, as well as most of the men Dustin knew.
Winston stood with a group of ranchers, black soot covering his pinched face. He caught Dustin’s gaze and started his way. When he neared, he gave his son an angry jerk of his head, and Dustin followed him to the outer shadows where they wouldn’t be overheard. Dustin couldn’t ever remember seeing him so angry.
“Was this Noah Calhoun’s doing?”
Noah’s absence in the bunkhouse had been going through Dustin’s head the whole time he’d been pitching the water buckets. Had he stopped being vigilant because of Calhoun’s cooperation, only to be duped?
“What about Sidney’s father and brother?”
Anger and frustration made him want to cuss. “Don’t know.”
“Well, you better know. Rio Wells could have burned to the ground. Innocent folks could have died!”
His chin jerked up. “They didn’t.”
“And thank God for that!” Winston barked, his furious tone scorching Dustin. “You better find out where Noah is! Let’s not forget, if he’s done this, the blame is on your head! Not by my account, but Judge Halford. I don’t like this one bit.”
“I’m headed to the sheriff’s office now,” Dustin replied. “I don’t see Miller anywhere here.”
“I’ll go with you.”
They left the large crowd behind. When they turned onto a nearly deserted Spring Street, the quickest route to the sheriff’s office on Main, Dustin saw Sidney running in his direction, her face a storm of confusion. Everyone else was at the site of the fire.
“You’re safe!” she cried, the first thing out of her lips.
She was still in Rio Wells!
Dustin tried to embrace her, thankful his fears hadn’t been fulfilled, but she pulled away. A few feet behind came her father and brother.
His gut tightened. Dustin glanced at his pa, dreading the trouble he felt coming. Surely, all the old hate-filled accusations would start flying once again.
Instead, his father strode right up to Jock Calhoun and threw a punch, sending the man to the ground. Shock reverberated through Dustin as Sidney screeched and ran to her father’s side.
Jock Jr. rushed Dustin, but Dustin stepped away and shoved him to the ground.
“We’re not fighting today,” he said through clenched teeth as Sidney’s brother picked himself up and slunk to his father’s other side. Something told Dustin this would be about his father and Sidney’s pa.
“I warned you!” Winston barked at Jock, both hands fisted at his sides. “If you ever set foot in my town, there would be hell to pay. I’ve put up with your lies and deceits everywhere else, but I won’t here. Not for one second!”
“He’s crippled,” Sidney cried, helping her father to his feet.
The man wobbled as he wiped a trickle of blood oozing from the side of his mouth.
“How can you hit a defenseless man?” she cried, holding tight to her father’s arm.
“Defenseless?” Winston choked out. “Ha! Crippled? That might be, but I’m sure not as bad as he wants you to think.” He paced back and forth like a caged mountain lion.
All the years melted away until Dustin saw his father as a young man, the man he remembered when the ambush had happened. Dustin had been eight or nine. He recalled certain parts of that disturbing time in their history.
Winston glanced at him and then looked long and hard at Sidney, standing guard at her father’s side. Hatless, he raked his hand through sweat-soaked hair, turned to the older Calhoun, and glared.
“I’ve come to a decision, you sorry son of a—” He shook his head. “Don’t know if it’s the right one or not, but at this point after all these years, I’m not sure if I care anymore. All I know is I don’t want my son blaming me for his unhappiness! I’ve carried your secret for as long as I intend to. Jock Calhoun, bare your soul to your children. If you don’t, then I will!”
Sidney’s father
practically shrank before Dustin’s eyes. This was not the bully he remembered.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, McCutcheon. Probably more of your—”
Winston took a menacing step toward Jock, and he straightened.
“What’s he yammerin’ about now, Pa?” Jock Jr. asked. “Don’t let him push you around. I can take ’em both.”
Dustin didn’t care what Jock Jr. said. Sidney was all he could see. He understood why she’d looked so confused and sad when she’d run up to him; her dear father had been filling her head full of lies, uncertainties, and guilt all night long. Poor thing looked exhausted.
She avoided his gaze and kept hers on Winston, looking young and scared.
Winston glared at Jock. “It’s amazing how the lines between truth and lies wavered as the years pass, eh, Jock? One thing you can always count on. Truth will always come out. It bides its time, waiting for the precise moment to set things right.” He jabbed a finger in Jock’s direction. “Now’s the time, Jock. Start talking.”
Scowling, Jock just stared.
A few people going home on Spring Street stopped to see what the problem was.
“Move along, folks,” Winston told them. “This is personal.”
Jock stumbled a few steps back.
“Fine. Don’t say you weren’t warned.” Winston looked at Dustin, then Jock Jr. and finally at Sidney. “All those years ago, your father paid to have me bushwhacked. Things went sour somehow. I don’t know. It’s ironic, in a way.”
“What?” Dustin couldn’t believe his ears. If his father had known all along, why had he let Calhoun sully the McCutcheon name? That didn’t make any sense. His face grew hot at all the fights and slander he’d endured. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“Why, you ask?” Winston said, now staring at the ground. Seemed all the anger and hate seeped out of his pa right before his eyes.
Morning was here, and the sun was just now peeking over the rooftops. The soft light silhouetted his father, making his face hard to read.
“Why?” he said again, as if asking himself the question. “Because of her”—he pointed to Sidney—“and her brothers. Winnie and I knew Jock and Sidney’s mother. We didn’t see them often, because their ranch was a ways from ours.” A ghost of a smile played across his face as he stared at Sidney. “She was just a little ragamuffin of a thing running after her brothers. Cute as a bug’s ear. Did I want to see her lose her pa? Did I want to be the one to break her heart? No!”
Winston stopped talking for a moment and stared at the ground. “Once I saw what was brewing between the two of you these past few days, I knew the truth was fated to come out. But if I could stop the devastation, if I could keep you two apart, I would try—for her. I did try. I did. But destiny won’t be cheated.”
He sucked in a lungful of air. “And I kept silent because of him,” he said, pointing at Jock Jr. “He’s a handsome lad. Reminds me of my own sons.”
He thumped his chest with his fist, and his face twisted in agony. “Did I want to be the one to tell him his father is a liar and a cheat? Possibly a murderer as well, if his intentions had been carried out? No! I knew I could handle a few verbal attacks. And I figured my sons, with their wide, strong shoulders, could do the same. As long as what they were saying wasn’t true, no one could hurt my family. People who know us would never believe such a thing about the McCutcheon name.”
“I never meant to kill you,” Jock wheezed. “I was perfectly clear, I only wanted you detained until you’d be too late to make the bid for the cattle contract. But that was all. Your ranch was already twice the size of mine. I was wrong . . .”
Both Sidney and Jock Jr. pulled away, their eyes wide.
Winston shook his head, his mouth twisted. “I figured his physical scars, as well as the guilt he had to carry, were punishment enough, so I never turned him in. He got what he deserved by his own hand.”
“How did you figure out the truth?” Dustin asked, amazed at this turn of events. He wanted to comfort Sidney, to take her into his arms, but he felt she might be uncomfortable with her father right there. He’d wait until they were alone.
“Jock had been throwing out to anyone who would listen that a Rim Rock brand was on the horse of his attacker. That was all a lie, to put suspicion on me, but I didn’t know that. I began questioning my men, to make sure none were involved in any way. I hadn’t orchestrated the ambush, but that didn’t mean someone from the ranch hadn’t had a hand in it. I interviewed the men separately.”
With hands on hips, Winston began to pace. “There was one man, Shorty Harris, who said he had a friend who worked for the Calhouns. Said if he heard anything, he’d let me know. Well, about a year later, he came into my office with a farfetched story, one I had no real proof was true until today. Jock Calhoun wanted the army contract so badly, he’d hired a gunman to make sure I never arrived at the fort. Shorty’s friend at the Calhoun ranch had gone out with Jock early one morning with a saddlebag full of cash. Jock had him wait at the end of a canyon while he rode in alone. When the day was well spent, the ranch hand went looking. Found Calhoun near beat to death.”
“Who said that?” Jock Jr. barked.
Winston stopped his pacing and shrugged. “Don’t know; Shorty wouldn’t say.” He looked at Sidney’s pa. “I guess you’re the only one who can fill in the blanks, Jock. I think we’re entitled.”
“Pa?” Sidney asked, her voice low. Every limb shook badly.
Her principles be damned, she needs someone at her side. Dustin crossed the imaginary line separating the McCutcheons from the Calhouns and wrapped her in his arms.
She turned so she could see her father. “Is that true? What Mr. McCutcheon said? Was it you all along?”
Jock Calhoun just stood there, looking broken and old.
“Best to come clean, Jock,” Winston said. “If you do, you may have time left to repair the damage you’ve done to your family.”
Jock nodded. “Most of it.”
Winston’s face resembled a hard slab of granite. “I’ve kept your dirty little secret for all these years. I deserve to know.” He glanced at Dustin. “Dustin too. The truth is the least you owe us.”
“After the bushwhack, I was delirious for days, almost died. I must have spoken the McCutcheon name, because before I knew what had happened, word got out that a McCutcheon brand was on the attacker’s horse. I didn’t start the rumor.”
Anger clenched Dustin’s chest for all his father had endured. “But you could have stopped it!”
Jock nodded, his face tight. “The gunman I hired changed up the plan. Decided to take his payoff and skedaddle without doing the job, after he beat me to death, of course. My hate festered. Winning the contract meant you’d become the most powerful ranch in the territory. Every time I thought about coming clean, I couldn’t keep my anger and disgust for myself from growing. I was filled with hate, for myself and for your success.”
Sighing, Jock added, “As the years passed, I accepted that version as truth. Believed the lie with my whole heart. When my wife died during childbirth, to me, the tragedy was your fault, McCutcheon. And every other disappointing thing that’s happened to me since.”
Dustin turned to his father. “Why didn’t you tell me and Chaim?” he asked, still unable to understand that.
Winston shook his head. “I planned to when you were adults, but whenever I tried, the enormity of the betrayal stopped my words in my throat. I’m sorry.”
With a sob, Sidney pulled from Dustin’s arms and dashed down the street. Dustin started after her, but his father grabbed his arm.
“Give her a little time to absorb everything. We have other matters at hand that need attention. Like finding Noah Calhoun to see if he was the culprit who torched Knutson’s barn.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Sidney paced across the rug in her room, sorting out everything she’d just heard. Her head ached with all the hurtful information rolling around
inside, which came on top of last night, when her father and brother had relentlessly demanded she give up her disgraceful idea of marrying Dustin. The enemy. The son of the most hated double-crosser in Texas.
What a farce! And what a fool she’d been! How would she ever face Dustin after all the things she’d said about his father? Shame scalded her face.
And now Knutson’s barn had been burned to the ground. Had Noah finally had enough and extracted his revenge?
Tears born of embarrassment and shame leaked from her eyes. Her father—a liar! Willing to defame a man’s good name to cover his own misdeeds. How would she ever hold up her head again?
A soft knock sounded on her door.
Dustin?
She turned to stare at the barrier. Over an hour had passed since she’d learned the ugly truth.
Again, the knock. “Sidney, open the door.”
Dustin.
“Go away.” She couldn’t face him now . . . or ever. Had he just chuckled? There was absolutely nothing funny about today.
“I’m not going away, sweetheart. Please open up. I don’t think they’ll take kindly when I kick in this really nice door.”
He’ll do it too. She crossed the room and then just stood, looking at the doorknob.
“Come on, darlin’, I have a hankerin’ to feel you in my arms.”
God help her, she couldn’t stop herself from needing that warm, languid voice. She pulled open the door. The moment she saw his face, everything gushed out of her in one earth-shattering cyclone of hurt.
Dustin scooped her up in his arms. He kicked the door closed with his boot, but she didn’t care. Let Rainey Knutson talk. Let all the Knutsons talk. Heck, why stop there? Let all of Rio Wells talk. All she cared about was the warmth of Dustin’s chest, the strength of his arms, and the love she felt seeping from his heart to hers.
“Shh,” he crooned. His hand ran down her hair that hung free. “Shh. Everything will be all right. Now, if you were leaving with your pa and brother and going back to Santa Fe, then I’d say you had something to cry over. But you’re not. And you don’t. Come Saturday, we’re getting married. I won’t take no for an answer.”
Texas Lonesome Page 27
