“Don’t cry, ma’am,” he finally managed. But she kept right on crying, and he didn’t blame her very much, what with her husband missing and her barn having been set afire. From what she said earlier, this kind of thing had happened before. He wondered how long it had been going on, and who was behind it. More important, where was Benjamin?
When she quieted down some, Kale spoke softly to her. “I’m here to help, ma’am. We’ll find Benjamin.”
She glanced up quickly and his steady gaze held hers. She had to tell him. She had to…but how? She couldn’t recall ever being so terrified. If only Lavender were here, or Armando.
The apprehension in her hazel eyes took Kale aback once more, but he held his tongue while she scrutinized him. Under his watchful stare, her apprehension turned to fear. Then, like a bolt out of the blue, he realized what she was seeing: the cut over his eye, the bruises, the swollen jaw and hands.
“Why didn’t Carson come?” she asked at length.
Kale bristled. So that was it! She was afraid of him…his reputation, leastwise. Here she was, a lady who allowed no guns inside her home, entertaining a gunfighter at her table. He would have laughed had the situation not been so grave. She had sent for Carson Jarrett, Texas Ranger, not Kale Jarrett, gunfighter. And it was clear as rainwater she was not satisfied with the switch.
Generally, he didn’t tarry long in a place where he was unwelcome, but the situation here was different. His brother was missing, and whether this little lady liked it or not, he was presently the only person in a position to help find him. He answered her question simply, without excuses.
“Carson had business in Mexico, so he asked me to come in his stead.”
Ellie cringed at the news. Carson wasn’t coming at all. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever. She couldn’t count on the Texas Rangers.
All she had was a gunfighter! A damned gunfighter. Whatever was she to do?
“You’re a strong woman, ma’am,” he said, thinking to reassure her. “I saw that by the way you handled yourself during the fire.”
Anger flashed through her body, displacing some of her fear. Little he knew about strong women. “You sound as if I had a choice.”
He took another bite of stew, swallowed it, and ignored her attitude as best he could. “Whenever you feel like it, you can fill me in on what’s been happening around here. The sooner we get down to business, the sooner we can find Benjamin.” And the sooner you can be shut of me and my guns, he concluded with a silent oath.
Ellie stared down at her plate. She ought to tell him now and get it over with, she argued to herself. She would…she would tell him as soon as she fetched more coffee.
Bringing the pot from the hearth, she filled his cup, then hers. His blue eyes softened when he thanked her.
He was good looking, no question about that, she reflected involuntarily. Why, those blue eyes would likely put a bluebonnet to shame, come spring. And his dark hair, tousled like it was, only added to the mystery of the man.
Mystery, my foot, she fumed. There was no mystery about a gunfighter…only bad news.
Kale felt his strength return with every bite of stew. This was good, substantial food—meat with potatoes and onions from the garden he had seen out back. And the mustang grape jelly on fried bread filled a craving for sweets that had plagued him constantly on the trail.
“My goodness, ma’am, this meal is mighty good. After the jerked meat and Arbuckle diet I’ve been on, this here’s king’s fare.”
She grinned a little at that, and his breath caught at the beauty it brought to her formerly dismal expression.
Suddenly she experienced the disquieting notion that he knew she was lying, lying by her silence. “Why are you staring at me?”
“Sorry.” He grinned sheepishly. “To be honest with you, ma’am, I haven’t sat at a lady’s table in so long I’m all thumbs. The only females I’ve seen in a good long while were…well, they were far from ladies, if you know what I mean. Dancehall girls, mostly.”
Dancehall girls? The words struck a new and discordant chord within her. Didn’t he know about her own past, for heaven’s sake? What would he do when he discovered this additional bit of bad news?
“Is that who you expected Benjamin to marry? A dancehall girl?”
He laughed at that. “No, ma’am…not Benjamin. I don’t rightly know what I expected…” His words drifted off. He wondered how he managed to get himself caught in such a conversation in the first place. He couldn’t very well tell her that she was far younger and more beautiful than he’d anticipated, that he hadn’t figured Benjamin to be in the market for a wife who would set his blood to boiling, as Ellie surely must have done.
“Benjamin said I reminded him of Delta.”
“Delta?” He frowned across the table at her. “My little sister?”
She nodded.
“But Delta’s only—I mean, you’re taller…ah, grown up.”
Ellie laughed in spite of herself. She had never considered herself tall, but then, she’d been raised around Lavender Sealy, who towered to six feet, well above most men who frequented the Lady Bug.
Her height, of course, was not what bothered Kale Jarrett. She knew that. “Delta’s grown up, too.”
Kale shook his head. His eyes reflected the dilemma between his memory and the reality across the table from him.
In that moment Ellie saw not a dangerous gunfighter, but a man—a wandering man who’d been a long time away from his family. “How long since you’ve seen Delta?”
Suddenly self-conscious under her scrutiny, he dropped his head and took a bite of fried bread. “Twelve years, or near enough.”
“Twelve years ago Delta would have been twelve years old. I was twelve then too, and probably not any taller than Delta was. Benjamin said we’re about the same size now.” She watched him add things up in his mind. “He also told me that Delta has your blue eyes.”
Kale studied her while her words sank in. “That’s how you knew me,” he glanced toward the barn, “…out there at the water trough.”
“Benjamin described all of you,” she confirmed, “but I probably wouldn’t have recognized any of the others straight off. He said only you and Delta have your pa’s blue eyes.”
“He likely told you more than that. Benjamin always accused me of being like Pa in most ways.”
“He said you both have itchy feet and—” She stopped, suddenly realizing what she was about to say.
“And an itchy trigger finger,” he finished for her, staring into his empty bowl.
After a time she offered him more stew, but he refused. Somehow his appetite had vanished. “Like I said earlier, the sooner you fill me in on the trouble around here, the sooner…” He settled back, studying the way the lamplight played on loose strands of her blonde hair.
Again she knew she should tell him about Benjamin’s fate. She hedged. “Men from the Circle R started the fire.”
“You recognized them?”
“No, but I know that’s who they were.”
“The Rainey brothers had a hand in Benjamin’s disappearance?”
“I don’t have proof, but they must have been involved.”
Kale waited patiently while she set the plates on the far counter and returned to the table.
“The springs down behind the house are the headwaters of Plum Creek,” she explained. “In droughts like the one we’re having now, it’s the only running water around. Livestock can’t survive without water.” She refilled his coffee cup. “The Raineys want Plum Creek; it’s that simple.”
Things are never that simple, Ellie, he thought, wondering where she’d been raised, sheltered as she was. “When I was here before, Benjamin mentioned the Raineys. They’re the biggest landowners around Summer Valley, aren’t they?”
Ellie nodded; she sat down across from him once more. “Matt was the first settler in these parts; his younger brother Holt followed soon after. Matt is a tough, land-hungry man, and Holt is m
ean. Together they’re capable of taking any piece of land they want. If Matt can’t get hold of it by threats, Holt kills for it. They have a few cowboys at the Circle R, but mostly their hands are hired killers.”
Kale had listened with interest, but at her inflection on the last word, their eyes locked as if in combat. At least now all her cards were on the table, he thought. When he spoke he ignored her implication. “You think the Raineys are trying to run you and Benjamin off this place for the headwaters of Plum Creek?”
“That isn’t farfetched,” she replied, defensive more at her inability to make herself tell him about Benjamin than at his question.
“No, ma’am, it isn’t.” Again he ignored her starched attitude. “What else has happened?”
Her heart fairly stopped at the question. Now was the time to tell him. Now. “All sorts of things,” she hedged again. “My garden was trampled, the stock have been run off several times. This was the first time they tried burning me out, though.”
“How long has the trouble been going on?”
“The harassment didn’t start until after Benjamin…ah, disappeared.” She dropped her eyes to the table. “Since then someone has been watching me from the crest of that hill up there.” She finished with a curt nod toward the direction the arsonists had taken when they left the barn.
“How do you know?”
“I’m not making it up,” she snapped. “Several times when I’ve been out tending chores, I’ve seen sunlight glance off something—a gun barrel, I’m sure. And at night, sometimes, I’ve seen what had to be a campfire.
Pushing back his chair, Kale crossed to the window. A full moon had risen while they ate; it cast a bright white glow over the ground, illuminating the valley and parts of the hillside. He saw no light on the hill. He believed Ellie, he supposed, yet why would anyone use such an obvious position from which to strike at the house? Why not just burn her out and be done with it? Instead of that bungled attempt they made today…
“Did Benjamin file on this place?” He glanced back at her. Yes, he decided, Ellie Jarrett was an uncommonly handsome woman. Your brother’s wife, he reminded himself sharply, bringing his wandering mind—and eyes—back to the situation at hand.
“I don’t know. We never discussed business.” She glared at Kale, reminding him once again that he was an intruder, an interloper, even here inside his own brother’s house. “Whether he filed or not,” she said, “I’m not leaving. No one can make me leave my home.”
“No, ma’am,” he agreed, “not long as I’m here.”
His steady gaze bore into hers in a relentless fashion, bringing a rush of heat up her neck, causing her to suddenly, inexplicably, think of talk around the Lady Bug, talk about tingling spines and knees going weak.
She rose quickly and went to the kitchen, where she poured some of the water he brought earlier into a pot, then carried it to the hearth to heat.
Turning away, Kale leaned his palms against the mantel and stared into the smoldering ashes. The ashes weren’t all that was smoldering in this room, he thought, knowing he’d best get things settled and quick. Slowly, as though in a trance, he repeated his earlier survey of the cabin, all the while trying to bring his attention back to the puzzle of his brother’s disappearance and away from the spitfire of a woman—lady, he corrected mentally—his brother had married.
A shotgun and a falling breechblock Spencer rifle hung on pegs above the front door. Kale recognized both from his childhood, leading him to thoughts of his own wayward youth. Like as not, he would never succeed in finding a woman like Ellie to marry.
That idea filled him with a new and different kind of trepidation—not the idea of Ellie, but of marriage. He was quite sure that word had never entered his mind before in association with himself.
Turning once more to the fireplace, he set his mind to studying Ellie’s likeness. She stood in front of a fine three-story house. Something struck him as familiar about it, but then, a lot of houses looked alike.
She was a handsome woman, sure enough, all dressed up in a fancy gown. Benjamin was a lucky man. And to think she fought for this humble home as though it were the best thing she’d ever known.
A piece of tanned leather was stashed behind the fruit jar. When he took it down to examine it further, he found the leather had been torn into two pieces. Held together, they formed a crude map.
“What’s this?” he called over his shoulder.
Ellie crossed to the fireplace, where she knelt to test the temperature of her dishwater. The silence had given her time to gather her wits, and she knew she could put off the inevitable no longer. She had to tell Kale the truth about Benjamin. Tonight. Rising to stand beside him, she answered his question in a preoccupied manner.
“A plat to an old Spanish mine.”
Her presence did pleasing, yet disconcerting things to his insides. “Is it around here somewhere, the mine?”
“Supposedly.” She cleared her throat. “Would you…ah, would you come outside with me, Kale?”
Chapter Two
The sound of his name falling from her lips sloshed around in Kale’s brain like well-water in a bucket. With a stiff nod, he replaced the plat and followed her to the door. Yes, indeed, his brother had married an uncommonly handsome woman.
Ellie took up her shawl, but when he reached for his gun belt, she stopped him.
He glanced toward the hillside, shrugged, then moved to hold the door for her.
“Do we need a lantern?”
She shook her head. “The moon is bright enough.”
The distance across the rock-littered clearing that separated Benjamin’s grave from the house couldn’t have been more than a hundred yards. They walked it without speaking. For the life of her, Ellie couldn’t think what to say now, nor what she would say after they arrived. She had never been the bearer of such news before, but she had been present on occasion when others were told of a loved one’s passing, and she knew folks reacted to the news in peculiar, oftentimes volatile ways.
She drew the shawl closer to warm herself against a chill unrelated to the weather. How would a gunfighter react? At least she had managed to get him away from his guns. All he could do now would be to throw a few rocks at her.
About halfway to the gravesite, she sensed that she walked alone. Stopping in the middle of the rocky clearing, she glanced back over her shoulder.
Kale Jarrett stood stock still; he stared past her, straight ahead, and without turning she knew what he focused on. She wouldn’t have to tell him after all.
Beneath the light of the pale moon she watched his face take on the stony features of a mask. His Adam’s apple bobbed; his hands gripped into tight fists. Whether from the action to clench his fists or not, his arms trembled, the sight of this engulfing Ellie in a wave of sympathy.
Without design she extended her hand and Kale reached to place his inside it. By the time she led him to the grave of his brother, he gripped her hand so tightly she thought he might crush it.
“Watch your step,” she cautioned when they drew near. “The ground is muddy where I watered a rose cutting.”
Kale turned a stricken face to her. “Rose…?”
“A cutting from the bush by the front porch.”
“Roses?” The word rasped from his throat. Suddenly he clasped her to his chest, holding her fast against his throbbing heart. He saw Ma and her rosebush, he saw the carpetbagger, he saw Benjamin. Still clutching Ellie tightly in his arms, he buried his face in her hair and worked hard to hold back the tears.
Ellie felt his chest heave against her own. One of his hands grasped her head; his face nuzzled her hair. She heard despair whisper from his lips as the wind sighed through the liveoak leaves above them. She held him close and felt him tighten his grip on her.
Far removed from what she had expected, Kale’s reaction reproved her for her earlier fear of him. His grief brought a return of her own.
For an indeterminable length of time, he held
her without uttering a word while the breeze stirred around them and the stars twinkled merrily from the midnight blue sky. When finally he did draw back, it was with an embarrassed apology.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to—”
“Shhh.” As one would a child, she reached to smooth a lock of hair out of his eyes. “He was your brother.”
Kale sank to his knees beside the grave and she sat near him.
“Tell me about it,” he whispered at length.
“I don’t know much. He was gone for over a week, then one morning—the day after I sent the telegram to Carson—I found his body on the back steps. He had been shot. I buried him. That’s about all.”
He sat with his elbows propped on his knees, holding his face in his hands. “Have you notified the others?”
She shook her head. “I was waiting to hear from Carson.”
The mention of Carson brought a reminder of her earlier rejection of him. “We’ll have to let them know.”
She nodded.
“Benjamin is…was…like a father to us all after Pa left, and with Ma sick and all.”
“I know,” she whispered. “My folks died when I was young, too. Sometimes after I married Benjamin I…”—she hesitated, then told him the truth—“…sometimes I wished I had been Delta.”
Kale turned to stare at her distraught face. The moonlight made her hair look like spun gold. Her mouth was set in sorrow, her brow creased in an implacable furrow. She stared off into the hills.
“Delta?” he questioned.
She nodded. “Benjamin must have made a wonderful father.”
They sat in silence a while, then she rose. “I’ll go do the dishes and leave you alone with him.”
Before she had taken more than two steps, however, he called to her.
“Ellie.”
She turned and gazed into his mournful face. In the moonlight his eyes looked black. “Yes, Kale?”
“What happened to your folks?”
She studied him a while before answering. “They were bushwhacked by a gunfighter who hid out in our corral.”
Sweet Autumn Surrender Page 4
