Moira glared at him. “We should at least try.”
“If we drag her back here, she’ll only run away again.”
“But we’ll be abandoning her.”
Tony snorted. “She abandoned us first.”
Moira gaped. “Matthew says, ‘If a man have an hundred sheep, and one of them be gone astray, doth he not leave the ninety and nine, and goeth into the mountains, and seeketh that which is gone astray?’”
They stared at her, their looks pitying.
John spoke first. “We don’t even know where to look. And she doesn’t want to be found. We only know their first names. They’re adults according to the law. They may have gone in any number of directions.”
“It’s not right. It’s like we’re leaving her behind. Abandoning her. I shouldn’t have started this. If we’d never gone on the cattle drive...”
“Then what?” Tony shook her head. “She would have caught up with Preston earlier.”
Sarah toyed with the embroidered cuff of her sleeve. “She knows where we’re going. She knows we’ll be in Cimarron Springs. The town can’t be that big. If she wants help, she knows where to find us.”
“Someone should care.” Moira choked off a sob. “We should care.”
“We do care.” Sarah touched her arm. “But she doesn’t want our help. She never did.”
Not for the first time Moira recognized the gulf separating them. Never once had they mentioned Preston or his involvement. The girls had known why they were being held, yet they hadn’t trusted her with the truth. Even John had suspected the real story long before she had. He’d been trying to tell her all along, only she hadn’t listened.
She’d mistaken his easy nature for apathy. She’d been wrong. He was more watchful, more attuned to the needs of everyone around him. Even her needs.
Tony perched near Hazel. “Darcy always kept a wall between us. I knew she wasn’t going to stick around long. She was with us, but not. We all knew she was going to leave sooner or later. You must have realized that?”
Somewhere Moira had realized that. She’d pushed the truth aside, because she knew if she accepted that Darcy didn’t belong, she’d have to admit that she didn’t belong either.
John pulled a chair out and straddled the seat. “We’ve all done bad things at one time or another. Doesn’t mean we’re bad people.”
“Do you think God forgives us?”
“Of course He does. The hard part is forgiving yourself. Tomorrow you’re getting on a train for Cimarron Springs. It’s a new start. For everyone.”
Moira’s throat tightened. She’d started over more than once in her life. Always before she’d seen a new beginning as a challenge. Not anymore. She didn’t want anything to change. Because once they reached Cimarron Springs they’d no longer be the Calico Cowboys. John Elder didn’t need them anymore.
She wanted him to need her.
Chapter Seventeen
Moira spent the first week in Cimarron Springs sketching. She splurged on a new sketchpad and pencils. The pictures poured from her fingers in a frenzy. Normally sketching was her hobby. As the leaves fell and the brisk fall air tinted her cheeks pink, the drawings became her obsession.
A full month had passed since they’d arrived in Cimarron Springs. September had turned into October, and the weather was temperate. She hadn’t seen much of John Elder in that time. He was traveling more often than not, though he did check up on the girls when he was in town.
She captured the memories as quickly as her fingers allowed, whittling her pencils down to the nub. The work kept her from thinking. About the past, about the future, about anything. She didn’t have to think about how she didn’t belong. While the other girls had flourished, Moira puttered around without a clear direction.
Sarah backed her way through the door from the kitchen and spun around, a mason jar in each of her hands. “Look! We’ve finished canning the peaches.”
Moira flashed an indulgent grin. “Is there any room next to the tomatoes and the apple butter?”
“I can’t help it. This is the most fun I’ve had in ages. You should come and join us.”
“That’s all right. I’m sketching.”
Sarah whistled her way back into the kitchen. She and the boardinghouse owner, Agnes, had been inseparable almost from the day the girls arrived. The two shared a love of cooking and baking, and, most recently, canning. They’d spent the past week in the kitchen whipping up dish after dish.
A knock sounded. Realizing Agnes was up to her elbow in peaches, Moira answered the door and discovered Deputy McCoy. The young man was tall with jet-black hair and brilliant green eyes. From what Moira had gathered, all of the McCoys shared the distinctive coloring. From the few snatches of gossip she’d heard, David had recently married his sweetheart, a pretty blonde with blue eyes and a smile that must have broken more than one heart before she fell in love with David.
He gripped his hat brim. “The marshal has some news. For Tony.”
The younger girl appeared in the doorway. “About my uncle?”
“He didn’t say. I can walk you over.”
Tony glanced at Moira. “Will you come along?”
“Of course.”
Moira quickly donned her bonnet and the three of them walked the short distance to the marshal’s offices. A few people tipped their hats along the way, smiling greetings. She returned their good wishes with a hesitant wave, always feeling like a bit of a fraud. The girls were a novelty around here.
Upon arriving at the offices, the marshal motioned them toward the two sturdy wooden chairs before his desk.
They exchanged greetings and Moira took the chance to study the marshal. He was older than his deputy was and more world-weary. As though sensing a kindred spirit, she knew instinctively he’d seen more in his life than his young deputy.
He brushed the mahogany hair from his coffee-colored eyes, took his own seat behind the desk. She caught the scent of fresh paint and wood shavings.
The marshal noted her curiosity. “We had a fire not long ago. Had to take the place down to the studs and start over.”
“Oh dear. Was anybody hurt?”
“Nope. It all worked out. Rather well, if I do say so myself.”
He grinned and Moira shook her head. “You seem awfully pleased,” she commented.
“Well, got myself a wife out of the deal.”
“JoBeth, from the telegraph office?”
“That’s the one.”
Moira recalled seeing her once or twice when she visited Agnes. “Your Cora is quite precious.”
The girl often accompanied JoBeth on her visits.
“That’s my niece. Although we’ll have a baby around the house next spring.” Flaming color infused his cheeks. “Uh, shouldn’t have let that slip. We haven’t told anyone yet.”
Moira hid a grin at his mixture of pride and embarrassment. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Tony shifted impatiently. “Enough with the chitchat. How come you called us in?”
Marshal Cain smiled indulgently. “Of course. You should be aware that while I have some good news, I have some bad news as well. I think we’ve found your uncle. My wife sent out a few inquiries since she works at the telegraph office. Anyway, we found him in El Paso. He’s out of work right now and doesn’t feel he can properly care for you.”
Tony blinked rapidly. “Well. It’s not like I need much. I can work, too.”
“As to that,” a voice spoke from the doorway. “I might have a solution.”
Moira bolted upright. John Elder stood in the doorway. His welcoming grin sent her heart beating erratically and her palms dampened. “Mr. Elder. I didn’t realize you’d returned,” Moira said.
“Only got in this morning.”
&nb
sp; “You’re chitchatting again.” Tony crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s your idea, cowboy?”
“Marshal Cain told me about your problem this morning. I need some extra hands at the ranch. I’m building up a stock of horses. You’ll have to live in Cimarron Springs. But if your uncle agrees, you’ll be together.”
Tony launched herself from the chair and threw her arms around the cowboy. He staggered backward and patted her back.
The girl sprang away. “I have to tell Hazel and Sarah.” She dashed toward the door and paused. “You coming?” she asked Moira.
“In a minute,” Moira replied. “I won’t be far behind.”
Tony slammed out the door in a flurry of petticoats. Moira smiled at the cowboy. “Thank you. That was a very kind thing for you to do.”
He propped one shoulder against the doorjamb. “Not really. Works out for both of us.”
“How many horses have you acquired so far?”
She was falling in love with him.
She’d been skirting the truth for ages. For a time she’d wondered if her feelings would fade, if she was confusing her blossoming love for him with the adventure they’d shared. She’d convinced herself that she’d kept her feelings in check. She couldn’t have been more wrong.
He was always polite and deferential toward her, and sometimes she wondered if he liked her as well. Yet he hadn’t tried to kiss her again. And they hadn’t been alone since the cattle drive.
There were things she needed to settle. With Tommy. With the Giffords. She had nothing to offer John Elder. She was a twenty-two-year-old woman who could roll cigars and drive a herd of cattle. Two skills John had little need of. And even if she did declare her feelings, was there a chance he might return them? The risk terrified her into silence.
“I’ve acquired thirty-four more horses,” John said. “I’ve got a line on another twenty up north. Mustangs. Good stock.”
The marshal cleared his throat and Moira started. She’d forgotten he was even there. When John was in the room, he captured her attention. A sheen of sweat covered her forehead. She’d nearly blurted out her feelings before a near stranger.
She grasped a newspaper from the marshal’s desk and fanned herself. “That sounds like quite a herd. You’ve got a lot of work ahead of you.”
“I do. It’ll take a while. Building up the ranch.” The tips of his ears turned red. “It’ll be worth the wait.”
What was he saying? It’ll be worth the wait. Was he trying to tell her something?
The marshal’s chair creaked and Moira jerked upright. She’d forgotten about him again. He didn’t appear annoyed at the oversight.
“What about Sarah?” Moira changed the subject. “Have you found her sister yet?”
“Well, that’s the thing.” The marshal straightened the cup of coffee resting on the corner of his desk. “I don’t think Sarah wants her sister found. All the information she’s given me has been vague. I discovered a gentleman I thought might be her brother-in-law, but he didn’t seem real interested in answering my queries. I’m just not certain how much more I should look.”
Moira fanned herself more vigorously. “Her sister’s husband didn’t want her before. I suppose she’s worried that’s still the case.”
“It’s a good assumption.” The marshal sipped his coffee.
The sight sent a sudden rush of melancholy through her. She missed Pops drinking coffee over the cook fire. She saw him once in a while, around Cimarron Springs. He’d stayed in town. He’d said he needed the rest, but Moira had the feeling he couldn’t leave until they were all sorted out. Until everyone had a place. But the relationship was different now, more formal. Just as she knew it would be when they’d parted ways at Fort Preble.
The marshal lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. “I don’t see why Sarah can’t stick around Cimarron Springs. She sure has taken a shine to Agnes. The feeling appears to be mutual.”
John pushed off from the doorway. “Would you be willing to speak with Agnes before we set something into motion? I don’t want Sarah disappointed again.”
“I’ll have my wife take care of it. She and Agnes go way back. Wouldn’t be surprised if she brings up the subject first.”
Moira didn’t have any doubt of the outcome. The solution was ideal—for both of them. Despite her confidence, she was grateful for John’s careful handling of the situation. He was correct, the girls had suffered enough disappointments. They didn’t need any more.
John crossed his arms over his chest. “That leaves Hazel.”
“And Darcy,” Moira added quickly.
The cowboy frowned. “We’ve talked about this. She’s an adult. She’s getting married. There’s nothing we can do unless she wants our help. Near as I can tell, she doesn’t.”
“He’s right.” The marshal kicked back in his chair. “I’ve gotten some reports out of Illinois. Could be a coincidence, but there’s a couple that matches the description of your friend and her fiancé. Appears Preston likes to cheat at poker. He’s going to meet a bad end if he’s not careful.”
“Keep us informed,” Moira pleaded. “I know Darcy is a touch prickly, but she was a good worker. She pulled her weight along with the rest of us. I don’t like the hold that man has on her. She was different when she wasn’t around him.”
“I’ll let you know if I find out anything else. I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Miss O’Mara. Love has a way of making people do strange things.”
Afraid she might reveal something in her expression, Moira kept her gaze firmly affixed on her lap. Any moment she’d blurt out the words and shock them both.
I’m falling in love with you.
Then what would she say? Would you like to go for ice cream? She’d gone and lost her wits like Sarah’s Great-Aunt Sylvia.
“That leaves us with Hazel,” John said.
The marshal braced his hands against his desk. “My wife and I could take her in. She’s not much older than our little one.”
“No.” Moira half rose from her seat, caught the startled gazes of the two gentlemen and plopped back down again. “That is to say, I don’t think we should disrupt her life just yet.”
“The offer stands. There’s always room for her with us.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind.”
The obvious question hung in the air. What was she going to do? For the past month she hadn’t let herself think about much of anything concerning the future. The more time passed, the more she worried she’d never find her brother, Tommy.
I love you. How do you feel about a wife who betrayed her own brother?
“I should go.” Before she blurted out something revealing and embarrassed all of them. “If you discover anything else of importance...”
“Don’t leave just yet.” The marshal lifted a hand. “I haven’t showed you the best part. You’re famous. Check that paper you’re fanning yourself with.”
She loosened her death grip on the paper enough to read the headline. The Calico Cowboys of Cimarron Springs. Her jaw dropped. “Where did you get this?”
“A reporter from the St. Louis Chronicle was at Fort Preble when you came through. They even sketched your picture.”
Moira recognized the four girls on their horses before the stockyard gates. “He never said he was a reporter.”
“Either way, the Omaha Bee picked up the story as well.” The marshal slid a second newspaper across his desk. “You and the girls are quite a sensation.”
John tugged the newspaper from her limp fingers and read, “‘Led by a feisty redhead, the girls arrived at Fort Preble under the watchful eye of their stoic trail boss, John Elder.’ Huh. You’re feisty and I’m stoic?”
“That’s enough.” Moira touched her warm cheeks. “I’d rather absorb this news in private.” Neve
r in her wildest imagination had she thought about the story appearing publicly. “It’s quite odd, discovering that one has become a sensation.”
Was that why people were tipping their hats and waving on the boardwalk? Because some overzealous reporter had fashioned them into a sideshow?
The marshal took one look at her face and flipped over the newspaper. “It’ll blow over soon enough. I’d warn the girls to keep up their guard. I’ve seen things like this happen before, and we’re bound to have a few reporters showing up.”
Moira groaned. “Reporters? You really think so?”
“Don’t worry. My deputy will keep a watch out. As long as we don’t add any fuel, this will blow over soon enough.”
“I suppose that’s not the worst thing. If there’s nothing more...” She wanted nothing more than to escape and gather her thoughts in private.
The marshal’s expression grew somber. “There is one more thing.”
The cowboy straightened. “You need a moment alone?”
“No. You better stay. This concerns you, too.”
Moira rested her forehead on the edge of the desk. “I don’t think I can handle any more surprises.”
* * *
John didn’t like the tone of the marshal’s voice. “Well, spit it out. What’s so serious?”
“It’s Hazel. She’s been stealing from the mercantile.”
“That’s outrageous.” Moira snatched John’s hand. “Are you certain?”
He glanced at their intertwined fingers. Had she taken his hint? Did she understand that he was building up his ranch before he courted her? He wasn’t certain. He’d dropped enough clues to his feelings. When he’d spoken earlier, she’d had an odd expression on her face. Was that a good sign or a bad sign?
“I’m certain,” the marshal continued. “Mr. Stuart complained. Then Agnes found a stash of candy and baubles when she was cleaning out the girl’s room.”
He lifted a sack from the floor and dumped the contents on the table. Contraband scattered across the surface. Beads and ribbons and penny candies.
The Cattleman Meets His Match Page 23
