“I arrived a couple days ago.”
He reached out, letting Grant’s tiny hand grasp a finger. “I’m sure it’s good to be home.”
She watched as he played easily with the boy. A rugged lawman, a pair of guns strapped around his waist, comfortable showing an interest in a small child.
“It is. I missed everyone, although I miss Caleb and Heather. There’s so much to do at their ranch.” She blew out a breath, shifting Grant to her hip.
“May I?” Alex reached out his hands, taking the squirming boy from her.
Laughing when her nephew placed his chubby hands on Alex’s cheeks and squeezed, she felt the earlier awkwardness begin to ease. For the first time in weeks, she felt herself relax.
Highlander Ranch
“It’s good you’ve come back to the ranch, lad. Staying behind the livery isn’t right when we’ve plenty of room here.” Heather set down her fork, then stood. “I’ll bring out dessert.”
After the kitchen door closed behind her, Nate looked at Caleb. “You didn’t need to move my belongings here. I’m fine staying with Archie.”
He arrived a little after noon to find his clothes moved to an upstairs guest room in the main house. Nate hadn’t been to the second floor before today, surprised at how large the inside seemed compared to how it looked from the outside. Caleb had mentioned Archie telling him about his late wife and how they’d wanted a houseful of children. After her death, he’d never remarried, living alone in a house built to accommodate a large family never meant to be.
“Heather did it yesterday when I rode into town to find you. I’m glad she did. Archie prefers to eat alone in the foreman’s house. After living with all the MacLarens, and with Geneen gone, it seems too quiet in this place with just me and Heather.”
Nate didn’t respond right away. He’d been doing his best to keep his thoughts off Geneen returning to Circle M and a family that meant a great deal to her. He opened his mouth to reply, stopping at the sound of a loud knock on the front door.
“Are you expecting someone?”
Caleb shook his head, standing. “Nope.”
He walked to the entry, picking up his shotgun before opening the door. His body stilled, features going blank. Walking up behind him, a gun in his right hand, Nate studied the stranger standing on the porch. His leather pants and shirt looked to be made of deerskin, his hat an intricate basket weave with tiny beads for decoration.
“Are you the owner?”
Caleb stepped forward. “I am.”
The stranger extended his hand, ignoring the shotgun. “Jedidiah Coates.”
“Caleb Stewart, Mr. Coates.” He grasped his hand, nodding behind him. “This is Nate Hollis.”
“Friends call me Jed.” He held out his hand to Nate.
Holstering his gun, Nate shook Jed’s hand, his gaze landing on three Indians standing behind him. “And those men?”
Stepping aside, he gestured to the three dark-skinned men. “They’re the reason I’m here. These three are Maidu headsmen. The one on the far left has a son. He believes you helped him and came to offer his thanks.”
The one he mentioned came forward, holding a large intricately woven basket. Extending his hands toward Caleb, the man dipped his head slightly, muttering something neither Caleb nor Nate understood.
“He’s offering the basket as his way of thanking you for saving his son’s life,” Jed explained, looking at Caleb. “This one is for you.”
Another of the Indians took a step forward, holding out a second basket.
“This one is for Nate.”
When neither moved to accept the baskets, Jed lowered his voice. “It would dishonor them if you don’t accept their gifts.”
“What is this?” Heather moved between Caleb and Nate, her gaze moving to the men outside. “I’m Heather Stewart, Caleb’s wife.”
“Jed Coates, ma’am. These three are Maidu headsmen from the village a few miles north of here.”
Caleb placed a hand on the small of Heather’s back. “The man to the left is the Indian boy’s father. He came to thank us for helping his son escape.”
She looked at the others. “Ach. There’s no need to be thanking us. We did what was right.”
Clearing his throat, Caleb nodded at the baskets. “He brought the baskets to thank us. Jed says it would be an insult not to accept them.”
Her eyes widened in understanding. “Then you must be coming inside. You can be joining us for dessert.”
Jed shook his head. “We don’t want to intrude, ma’am.”
“You won’t be. And my name’s Heather.” Turning around, she went back into the kitchen.
Caleb chuckled. “Don’t consider arguing with her, Jed. It would be a waste of time. Come on in and have a seat.”
Jed turned to the three Maidu, speaking to them in their language. Hesitating a moment, the three spoke among themselves, one man’s voice a little louder and more commanding than the other two. He looked at Jed and nodded.
The three moved past Jed, Caleb, and Nate, following the path Heather took to the kitchen. Standing together, they looked around, their gazes taking in the furniture, pictures, and dishes on the table.
“Please, sit down.” Heather held a pie in one hand, more plates in the other. She set them next to the ones already on the table. Pulling out a chair, she nodded to the seat before sitting, demonstrating what she asked.
The Indian boy’s father moved first, taking a seat, his back straight. The other two followed.
Within a few minutes, everyone had a piece of pie before them, the Indians not sure what to do. After Caleb picked up his fork and took a bite, Nate and Jed followed. A moment later, the three Maidu headsmen did the same, fumbling with the unfamiliar utensils. One at a time, they grew accustomed to them, their pie disappearing in small bites.
“How did you come to be with them, Jed?” Nate sat back, watching as the man finished his pie and set down his fork.
“My wife is Maidu. I was out on a hunt when the incident with the boy happened or we would’ve been here sooner.”
Nate nodded. “We wondered where the boy went. He took off while we talked to the men from the mine.”
Jed’s features hardened. “I won’t tell you your business, but some of those miners are plain mean. Leland Nettles orders his men to shoot any Indians who come near the camp.” He couldn’t conceal the disgust in his voice. “The Maidu are a peaceful tribe. They don’t farm and don’t own horses. They hunt and gather what they need to live. They do tend to a small grove of oak trees near the village.”
“For the acorns?” Nate asked.
Jed nodded. “It’s one of their main sources of food.”
“You live in the village with your wife?”
Shaking his head at Heather, he picked up his cup of coffee, taking a sip. “We have our own place a mile or so away from the village. There are a number of Maidu villages spread out among the hills and valleys. Our ranch is between them.”
Caleb’s brow rose. “You’re a rancher?”
“A few head of cattle and three horses. We also raise pigs, chickens, and have two milk cows. Not much, but it keeps us fed, and we sometimes supply meat to their village.” He nodded at the three headsmen, who still worked on their pie. “Like I said, they don’t farm, but they’re excellent hunters when the miners don’t interfere.”
Nate finished his coffee, setting down the cup. “What happened that caused the miners to come after the boy?”
“He stumbled on the body of a man. A group of miners saw him and he ran. Kept running until he got to the lake and saw you. Over the years, whites have driven the Maidu farther into the hills and deeper into the valleys.”
“Because of gold?” Caleb asked.
Jed nodded. “Mostly. The Maidu are easy targets because they don’t put up much of a fight. They don’t know how to. After generations of living peacefully, they found themselves hunted for no apparent reason, other than they’re Indian. Leland N
ettles is a nasty sort, as are the men who work for him. Sheriff Polk isn’t any better, but you’ve most likely figured that out. The Maidu trust few whites. You are now counted in that number.”
He looked down the table at the three Indians, saying something in their language. Looking back at Caleb, he pushed from the table. “We’ll be leaving now.” He glanced at Heather. “That was mighty fine pie, ma’am. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome here anytime, as are these other men.” Heather rose from the table, smiling at the men. “I’ll say goodbye to you.”
They watched as she picked up plates, heading into the kitchen, before they walked through the house to the entry.
When they reached the front door, Jed stopped. “Be real careful of those miners and anyone associated with Nettles or Polk. Neither are up to any good.” Stepping onto the porch, he looked between Nate and Caleb. “If you’re ever up our way again, my ranch is about four miles northeast of the mine, up the Feather River.”
“Wait. How are you getting back?” Nate asked.
“I’m on my horse. The others will walk to their village. They’ll camp overnight, if needed.” He shrugged. “It’s their way.”
Nodding at the Maidu headsmen as they left, Caleb closed the door. “Jed has no love for Nettles.”
“Or for Polk. I can’t say as I blame him.”
“I’m serious about it being time to replace Polk.”
Nate’s jaw worked as he thought about the sheriff. “If you’re thinking of me replacing him, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I’m not the man I was while in Conviction.”
Caleb crossed his arms. “The hell you aren’t. I’ve been watching. I don’t see a trace of the man who came to Circle M, his body and mind controlled by opium. You’re back to being the same man as when you first arrived in Conviction on the steamship. Heather sees it, and so did Geneen before you pushed her away…again. You’re the only one who hasn’t figured it out.”
Lowering himself onto the sofa, Nate shredded his hand through his hair. “I made a mess of things with Geneen.”
“Yes, you did. Don’t continue to make a mess of your life.”
Chapter Eleven
Colt sat at a table in the Lucky Lady Tuesday evening, watching and listening. He’d expected to hear from Black by now, but hadn’t seen a trace of the man since meeting him the week before. And he’d heard nothing of gold being moved from the mine to town.
Keeping his gaze focused on the door, Colt lifted his glass of whiskey, taking a sip as a man with a partial left arm walked inside. Nate Hollis. He remembered him as a lawman in Texas, seeing him again Saturday night in deep conversation with another man. Colt knew Nate didn’t recognize him, but neither had Black Jolly.
He watched as Nate headed to the bar and ordered a drink. His focus on him broke when Black entered the saloon.
As with any place Black frequented, conversation stopped and heads turned. He paid no attention. Instead, he cut a path straight toward Colt. Pulling out a chair, he sat down, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table.
“Thought I’d find you here.”
Colt glanced over Black’s shoulder long enough to see Nate turn around, his attention now on them.
“Do you have news for me?”
Black nodded. “Schedule’s changed. I got news the mine is making smaller shipments over the next ten days instead of a larger one late this week.”
Colt’s hard expression didn’t change. “Three times the work. Hope you negotiated more money.”
Black glared at him. “Don’t worry. You’ll be taken care of.”
Colt snorted. “I’ve heard that before.”
“Don’t push me, Dye. If I say you’ll be taken care of, you will.”
Colt let that settle a moment before appearing to accept it. “When?”
Lowering his voice, Black leaned farther across the table. “The first one is tomorrow. Be at the Acorn at nine in the morning. I’ll already be there.”
“How many other guards do you have?”
Pushing his chair from the table, Black stood. “Three, including me. Make sure your gun is loaded.”
Colt watched him walk out, still surprised but glad the outlaw didn’t recognize him from the posse. Sitting back, he let out a relieved breath.
“Mind if I join you?”
Jerking his gaze up, his eyes landed on Nate. Colt motioned to a chair.
Grabbing the back of it, he extended his hand. “I’m Nate Hollis.”
Accepting it, Colt nodded. “I remember you from Nacogdoches.”
Nate’s grip tightened an instant before he let go of Colt’s hand. “I don’t recognize you.”
“Colt Dye.”
Nate’s eyes widened. “The U.S. Marshal?” Sitting down, he looked at Colt’s long hair tied at the nape of his head, several days’ old stubble, and rumpled clothing. “What are you doing this far west?”
“Following the trail of an outlaw.”
“The man who just left?”
Colt nodded. “Do you know him?”
“No. I’ve heard he’s working for Leland Nettles, though. That information makes me not want to trust the man. What’s his name and why do you want him?”
“Black Jolly. He’s wanted for killings in Texas and a town south of here. Conviction.”
Nate sat up, his causal manner disappearing. “Conviction?”
“You’ve been there?”
“Up until a few months ago, I worked as a deputy for Brodie MacLaren. I, uh…had some difficulties and had to get away.”
“Then I’m guessing you haven’t heard about the trouble at the Circle M.”
Swallowing the uncomfortable knot in his throat, Nate shook his head. “Tell me.”
As Colt explained about the attacks on the MacLaren ranch, Nate’s stomach tightened, his chest restricting to a painful throbbing. Geneen, Caleb, and Heather had been there through it all, and not once had any of them mentioned the shootings, poisoned cattle, or threats. All their concern had been directed toward him. He’d never considered what they may have gone through after he left Conviction.
“Black is known for these types of attacks. I was ordered to find him not long after we arrested and hung those cattle thieves in Nacogdoches.”
Scrubbing his hand down his face, Nate nodded. “They did more than rustle cattle.”
“And deserved worse than a simple hanging. Sometimes the law’s justice isn’t enough.”
“You’re still a marshal, Colt. So it must be enough most of the time.”
Shrugging, he motioned for a bottle and another glass. When the saloon girl walked over, she set them on the table, then left the men alone.
“Are you a deputy in Settlers Valley?” Colt reached for the bottle, pouring a drink for Nate and another for himself.
Nate shook his head. “I work for the blacksmith.”
Colt chuckled as he sipped his whiskey. “A blacksmith, huh? From what I’ve heard around town, you’d be a better choice for a lawman than who they have now. No one seems too happy with Sheriff Polk.”
Nate tossed back his whiskey, shaking his head in frustration. “My friends, Caleb and Heather Stewart, have said the same. They moved here a few months ago from Conviction.”
“That must have been the man I saw you with Saturday night.”
Nate nodded. “It is. Heather is a MacLaren…Brodie’s cousin. I noticed you at the bar, but couldn’t place where I’d seen you before. The long hair and short beard threw me.”
“Apparently, Black hasn’t placed me with the posse chasing him in Texas, which is good. He’s hired me and another man to guard gold being moved from the mine to town.”
“The gold won’t make it.”
Colt sipped his whiskey, nodding. “I agree. That’s the reason I agreed to be a guard.”
“To catch him in the act. Arrest him for that, then inform him of the other charges.” Nate rubbed his chin. “You know, Black may decide to end it rather than be take
n to jail.”
A feral gleam brightened Colt’s eyes. “I’m hoping he does. Hauling him back to Texas for a murder trial doesn’t put me at ease.”
“What about taking him to Conviction for the charges there? Didn’t you say at least one man died?”
“Yeah. A MacLaren ranch hand.” Colt sat back in his chair, considering the possibility. “I’ll send a telegram to Brodie, find out what evidence he has and if it will stick. If it isn’t enough, I don’t want to risk the man getting off.”
“He’d still face the charges in Texas.”
Colt nodded. “True, and they’ve got solid witnesses to the killing of a local rancher.”
The old rush of putting an outlaw behind bars pumped through Nate. He hadn’t realized how much he missed being a lawman, bringing men to justice, keeping people safe.
“When’s the first shipment?”
Colt’s gaze narrowed a little. “Nine tomorrow morning. I meet Black and the other men he hired at the mine.”
“Nettles staggers the shipments, but seems to take the same route each trip. I’ll be waiting a couple miles north of town. There’s a rock outcropping along the river with good cover.”
“You don’t have to do that, Nate.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Nate glanced up. “There hasn’t been a lot I’ve had to do the last few months, other than stay alive. Watching out for you is something I have to do.”
Colt’s brow rose, an amused grin tilting up the corners of his mouth. “What about protecting the gold?”
Barking out a laugh, Nate rested an arm on the table. “I don’t give a damn about the gold or its owner. They can both fall to the bottom of Feather River for all I care. What I do care about is helping you bring an outlaw to justice. Maybe doing something good will help me put my other transgressions in a better light.”
Colt studied him. Nate didn’t seem to be a man troubled by past misdeeds, someone who needed to get away from a good life in a town with people who seemed to care about him. It made Colt wonder what had happened to cause a good lawman to forsake the badge to work in a livery. It was a question that wouldn’t be answered today.
Nate's Destiny Page 10
