by Sara Orwig
She heard voices in the next room and turned. “Abby, Josh. Come here,” she called. “Pa and I want to talk to you.”
Josh and Abby appeared, her hair tangled from sleep.
As soon as Eb told them about Horace White’s offer, Abby leaned forward. “Pa, how far from San Antonio is this land?”
“Twenty miles to the boundary. Not too far.”
She clapped her hands. “Then I think that’s grand! A house already built and a big herd of cattle. That means we’d have some money and could come to town more often and do things.”
“Abigail, Josh,” Eb said solemnly, “if we take this offer, we might be in a great deal of danger.”
Rachel watched them both carefully to see how they would react. Josh merely sat quietly waiting for Eb to explain while Abby’s smile vanished. “What kind of danger? Can we live in town instead?”
“We have to live where I can raise crops and cattle,” Eb said quietly, but with a firm note in his voice. “I have to do that, Abigail.”
“The danger is Lyman McKissick. He’s the neighbor and he wants this land and herd,” Rachel said. “I want to go ahead and take Mr. White’s offer. But if we do, we should all agree to it.” She studied Abigail and Josh as they stared back at her.
“If you want to, then I do,” Josh said.
She winked at him, feeling pleased by his answer, praying they were making the right decision.
“We can’t keep fighting him,” Abigail said, frowning and looking fearful. “We can’t do that. Let’s go somewhere else.”
“I think we should settle here, Abby,” Rachel said firmly. “We could get a neighbor like Lyman McKissick anywhere we go. Pa has said he will hire men who will fight. And he’ll give them part of the herd, so they’ll be fighting for themselves as well as us.”
“Do you think we’ll be safe?” she asked, biting her lip. Rachel knew some of Abby’s reluctance was fading at the prospect of having men who would fight to protect them.
“Yes,” Rachel answered firmly, feeling they could stand up to McKissick. “We got to San Antonio in spite of his interference.”
“I’ll give each man part of the herd so everyone who goes to work for us will have an interest to protect. And I’ll tell them what they face,” Pa said, and Rachel prayed she had made a good decision because they would all be running risks.
“If you think we should do this, Rachel, I do,” Abby said solemnly. “Unless there is some way we can live in town. I’d rather do that, and we would be safe here.”
“Abigail, I have to live on the land. That’s all I know how to do,” Pa answered, and she nodded.
“Whatever you think we should do,” she said again to Rachel and Rachel hugged her.
“Thank you all for your support, but we may have some bad times. You’re sure?”
They nodded and Rachel hugged Abby again and then turned to hug Josh. “You have to learn to shoot. And you should too, Abby.”
“I hate guns and loud noises! When are we going to eat? I want to get dressed for the fiesta,” she said, standing up and shaking out her skirt, the decision seemingly forgotten.
“It’s hours early,” Eb said, standing up. “Rachel, you come with me to talk to Horace White.” Eb crossed the room to pick up the metal box with their savings. It clinked dully as he slid it beneath his arm.
They sat by the window again in the lobby and in a few minutes Pa stood up. “Here he is, Rachel,” he said quietly while a stocky, red-faced man with a battered gray hat entered the hotel and looked around. He spotted Eb and crossed the lobby, his gaze going to Rachel and back to Eb.
“Mr. White, this is my daughter, Mrs. Johnson. Rachel, this is Mr. White.”
She nodded politely while he shook hands with Eb and turned to her. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Let’s sit down,” Eb said, settling on the wingback. Rachel sat next to him, both of them facing Horace White. “I told my family about your generous offer.”
“Mr. Benton, I hope you told them the dangers you would face because my family wants out. If you tangled with McKissick on the trail, you know all about him. He’s picked up several places the same way he’s about to get mine and some of them are a hell—excuse me, ma’am, a long way from his own place.”
Eb looked at her and she could guess what was going through his mind—that it might not matter where they settled as far as having trouble with McKissick.
“Doesn’t anyone try to stop him?” Rachel asked.
Horace White shook his head and ran his hands across his eyes. She had seen the same defeated expression in Pa, and she felt a rush of sympathy for the Whites. “No, ma’am. He only picks on people who are small outfits, don’t have political connections or friends with the law. He’s getting more careful as time goes by. I’ve never seen him on my place, yet I know this is his doing.” He looked at Eb. “Mr. Kearney, what do you plan to do?”
Eb looked at her and nodded. “We’ll take your offer,” he said. “In many ways it’s an opportunity we never expected to find.”
Horace White let out a long sigh. “It hurts to sell at this price; at the same time, this is a hell—excuse me, ma’am, this is far more than I would have gotten from McKissick. It’s going to make me feel good to know I didn’t have to sell out to him. If you can hold him off, you’ll have a fine start here.”
“We think so. And we plan to hold him off.”
“If you tangled with him on the trail and you’re here to tell about it without a loss, then maybe you’ll know how to fight him. If you want to go to the land office with me, we’ll transfer the deed now.”
“I’ll do that,” Eb said, standing and glancing at Rachel.
“I’ll be upstairs, Pa,” she said, hoping Eb could take care of the transaction without her because she felt it would do him good. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. White. I wish you good fortune where you go.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Johnson. I hope you find your husband soon.”
The men left and she watched them stride across the lobby. Again, she prayed she had made the right decision and they could hold out against Lyman McKissick.
When Eb return an hour later from the land office, the family ate in the elegant dining room and had foods Rachel had never before tasted—tamales and tortillas, peppers that put a spice in the meal. As they ate, she continually glanced at the lobby and the front windows, looking out at the street and wondering about Dan Overton. Why had he sent a telegram to Vicksburg? Knowledge of the telegram was a constant worry.
After dinner they dressed for the fiesta. She found a blue cotton dress for Abby and a pretty pink dress for Lissa. They braided Lissa’s hair, and then Rachel combed Abby’s, looping it and pinning curls on her head. Abby did Rachel’s next, pinning part of it on top of her head and letting the hair at the back of her head fall freely behind her neck.
“Rachel, I’m so excited. William Murdock is nice. He comes from a farm in Tennessee. His pa died when he was a boy, and he said his mother died before the war.”
“Did he fight?”
“Yes, under Beauregard. His first battle was Shiloh. He came west the last year of the war. He said he had enough fighting to last him forever. He works for cowmen around here. Isn’t he handsome?”
Rachel looked into the mirror at Abby’s sparkling blue eyes, and she thought about tall, blond William Murdock who looked young and pleasant. “Yes, he is. Abby, but we’ve only known him a day. Don’t be too trusting,” Rachel cautioned. She should be mother to Abby and tell her what to expect from men, but she didn’t know other than seeing the animals mate and she found that difficult to relate to herself.
Finally they were ready, Rachel in a deep blue cotton dress with lace and ribbon trim, a low square neckline, and short puffed sleeves. She studied her reflection, wondering about the changes she saw. Her skin was darker, her nose freckled, but it was more than that. She looked more a woman now than a young girl.
“Shall we go?” she asked, taking Lissa�
��s hand and feeling eager. It would be the first dance in too long to remember.
Chapter 12
Dan Overton stood at the foot of the stairs talking to Pa, Josh, and William Murdock. When he turned, his gaze met hers, and her pulse skipped, because his dark eyes conveyed his pleasure at the sight of her. It was a solemn, warm look that made her feel that he found her beautiful. In his black coat and trousers, he looked more handsome than ever, and she wondered if it was the air of wildness about him that made him stand out from other men.
As they moved away from the steps, Abigail introduced William Murdock to Pa and Josh. Then Josh and Pa went ahead with Lissa between them, Abigail and William following them. Rachel glanced up at Dan as he linked her arm through his.
“I don’t think I’m needed after all,” Dan said with amusement, looking at Abigail who was talking to William.
“We’re glad to have you go with us, but Pa could have taken us to the fiesta. Will you stay in San Antonio long?”
His gaze swung around to her, and he shook his head. “No,” he said as they stepped outside. The evening was warm, the sun still shining, shadows long across the lane in front of the hotel. “I have some unfinished business here, something unpleasant I don’t want to do. When it’s done, I’ll leave.”
Whatever it was, it disturbed him. Was that why he was solemn so much of the time? Was it something illegal or harmful? She looked up into his dark eyes. She knew so little about him in some ways. She had seen one part of his life, but she suspected there was a vastly different part she hadn’t seen.
“I’m surprised you’re going to the fiesta instead of a saloon to gamble.”
“There’s always time and a place to gamble. There aren’t always pretty ladies to take to a fiesta. This one night I want to forget yesterday and tomorrow.”
She turned her head to study him again. “Is tomorrow so bad? I know you’ve had a dreadful loss in your past. But the future?”
“We’re not going to talk about the future tonight,” he said, smiling at her with a flash of white teeth that made her pulse jump another notch. “You’ll see something new tonight.”
“I like San Antonio,” she said.
“They’re friendly in town. Just remember when you get out on the land that you’ll have to keep up your guard. The Comanche and Kiowa have bitter feelings toward Texans. And now you’re a Texan.”
“That seems impossible,” she said, glancing around as they crossed the meandering San Antonio River and strolled toward the Main Plaza. At the celebration, they paused in front of the Plaza House Hotel on the north side of the plaza. Festive torches and lanterns brought a daytime glow. Vendors sold tamales, and smells of hot chili filled the air. Children ran back and forth around vendors while people sat on benches or blankets and sang along or merely watched the dancing.
“If we go around to the Military Plaza, the fandango will be danced in saloons there. I’ll take you to watch,” Dan said.
Guitars played a lively tune as men’s voices joined in song and dancers whirled around the square. Dresses were a rainbow of colors. As Rachel stared at the dancers, she felt a swift stab of longing, knowing why Abby had wanted to come so badly. She stood watching them, forgetting her sister, remembering dances at home.
“Come on, Red,” Dan drawled. “As long as we’re here, let’s dance before you’re claimed by others.”
She gazed up at him, wanting to say yes, to step into his arms and follow his lead and forget everything for a few minutes.
Instead, she shook her head. “I can’t,” she said. “Elias—it wouldn’t be right,” she answered softly, disappointment washing through her.
Dan Overton gave her a speculative look and glanced over her head. “Come here.” He led her away from the crowd and around a corner of the courthouse, turning her to face him. “No one will see you here and Elias will never know. You’ve searched for him all day and no one knows him or has seen him, so he isn’t likely to show up to ask you what you’re doing.”
“It doesn’t seem right.”
“It’s harmless,” Dan insisted, pulling her toward him, his left hand holding hers, his right hand on her waist as he began to step in time to the music. She followed him, thinking over and over, how foolish, how foolish, he’ll know there’s no Elias. Yet her hand was in Dan’s, his warm fingers curled around hers, and she was bound to him for this moment in time.
In minutes they were dancing on the empty, dusty street. She followed his lead, gazing up into his brown eyes and feeling as if she were tumbling down into dark pools that made her ache for his touch. As they swayed, she felt a dreamlike quality to the moment. The music was guitars, not the violins and pianos of home. The beat was lively, the songs were Spanish, so different from all she had known. And never had she danced with a partner who gazed at her the way Dan Overton did now, boldly, hungrily, his eyes filled with speculation.
They moved easily as if they had danced together forever. Watching her, Dan spun her around. She was feather-light on her toes, graceful, her waist so tiny. Tendrils of hair sprang free to curl around her face, and her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly parted, and he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her and never stop.
He clamped his jaw closed, berating himself for getting so involved with them, for caring so much about the boy, for wanting Rachel until he ached, wanting to protect her instead of doing his duty. Her red-gold hair and sparkling green eyes were like a siren’s song, tugging on his senses. It was more than her beauty, and he knew it. No woman since Solange had captured so much of his attention. None had been such a challenge to him.
Feisty, beautiful, stubborn—Rachel was all that and so much more, and he longed to possess her. And the thought of arresting Eb was a two-edged sword. He liked all of them and respected Eb Kearney. If he left the family behind now, he would worry about them, yet he couldn’t imagine trying to take them all with him back to Mississippi. If he did, he would have to ride with a gun drawn on all of them, because Rachel would be like a lioness protecting her young.
Dan turned her again, her skirt swirling out. He caught a scent of rosewater, watching her steadily as she gazed back at him.
After leaving her today, he had sent a telegram to a Pinkerton agent in Vicksburg, asking him about Elias Johnson. Leaving the telegraph office, he had stopped in the livery stable. When he asked about Elias Johnson, the smithy paused to wipe sweat from his brow.
“Who the hell is this Elias Johnson? You’re the third person asking about him. Two beautiful ladies were here today.”
“Who else asked?”
“Some man about two days ago. I don’t know an Elias Johnson, but I’ll tell you, mister, if those women are his, he must be six feet under. No man would run off and leave those two.”
“Thanks.”
Now as he watched Rachel, Dan knew he would have made the same effort to protect his own father. Eb Kearney needed her help. Dan didn’t blame her for saying whatever she had to say to protect him. There was no Elias Johnson, but she was doing a good job of making it look as if he existed, asking about him all over town.
Dan’s gaze lowered to her full lips and he remembered their softness. He inhaled swiftly, wanting her, aware that spending the evening with her was the last thing he should be doing. Every contact with her, every conversation, each fiery kiss bound his heart to her with invisible cords that might be too strong to break. When he arrested Eb Kearney, the family would hate him. He wanted Rachel, he wanted her fire, her laughter in his life that had been too lonely. She was all woman, beautiful, wild, and brave. And the moment he hurt her father, she would hate him forever.
Lord, you’re lost, Overton, he told himself mentally as he watched her and turned her and held her waist, moving into more shadows. She danced so easily with him, and he wished her hair tumbled freely over her shoulders.
As they danced, Rachel felt as if years were falling away and cares were vanishing into
the darkness. She forgot worries and dreadful losses and uncertain tomorrows as she gazed into Dan’s brown eyes and followed his lead. Aware of his hands on her, she loved dancing with him. His gaze was steadfast, making her pulse race. Tall, lean, and muscular, he moved with a lithe step.
When he looked at her mouth, she drew a deep breath, her breasts swelling against her shift and the soft cotton. She wanted to be kissed. The breeze played over them, cooling her, a faint sensual touch to her heated skin.
The music was growing fainter as they moved away from the crowd. They were alone where the street was darker, the tall courthouse looming over them. Feeling lost in his compelling gaze, she couldn’t look away. He slowed until they were standing, staring at each other. With a gentle tug on her hand, his fingertips holding hers, he drew her to him.
She closed her eyes, feeling his strong arms close around her. Knowing she should tell him that Elias Johnson did not exist, yet still so wary, she decided to wait longer. Dan’s lips brushed hers, and thought was gone. Forgetting all else except Dan, she moaned softly, sighing, sliding her arms up over his broad shoulders and around his neck.
She gave him no resistance. Her eyes opened for an instant to find him watching her. As her heart thudded, she closed her eyes. His mouth opened hers, his tongue thrusting over hers and she moaned, feeling as if she belonged in his arms and had waited all her life for this moment and this man.
His hand wound in her hair, holding her head while he kissed her, his tongue sliding slowly over hers, touching the insides of her mouth. While one strong arm banded her narrow waist, his other hand slid from her head down the curve of her back over her rounded bottom, cupping her up against him.
A sense of rightness and belonging filled her as she kissed him in return, relishing the hardness of him, the marvel of the angles and planes of his body. Her hands moved lightly across his shoulders, sliding up to wind her fingers in his thick hair at the back of his neck.
He shifted her, his hand going to her breast, his fingers stroking her taut nipple through the cotton. Desire burned like a raging fire and she arched closer against him, feeling his hard arousal. She felt shocked by her reactions to him, shocked at what he was doing and how her body responded. She realized how sheltered her life had been. She was a spinster and she had no idea what it was like to be made love to—until Dan Overton. And now she wanted him with a desperation that astounded her.
