The Last Cahill Cowboy

by Jenna Kernan

  She patted his hand affectionately. “Well, you don’t look like you need much defending, but I do enjoy a good shellacking, so I’ll stay.”

  Chance kept his eye on the front door, unsure if he had gained an ally or just an audience.

  He didn’t have long to wait. A moment later, Bowie’s silhouette filled the glass beyond the lace curtain. His brother opened the door without knocking, removed his hat and held the door for Ellie, who entered with her cheeks in high color. What had Bowie told her?

  Merritt emerged from the kitchen with three more plates laden with eggs, bacon, biscuits and a generous serving of hash. She hadn’t yet noticed Bowie.

  “Chance, you like to step onto the porch with me?” asked Bowie, his eyes flashing blue fire.

  Chance sat back in his chair between Jemima and Merritt, who now beamed at Bowie. His brother’s gaze flicked to her and he was unable to maintain the grim countenance that he showed his brother. Who knew that Bowie had teeth and a lopsided grin? Chance felt better about bringing this to Merritt’s doorstep already.

  “Bowie,” she said, her voice a kind of dreamy murmur.

  Chance wondered what it would be like to have someone look at him that way and decided he’d settle for just having someone glad to see him.

  Merritt came forward and Bowie gave her a hug, drawing her tight against his side as if that was where she belonged.

  Ellie stood awkwardly on his opposite side, forgotten by both Merritt and Bowie. But Chance noticed her and her stormy expression. So Bowie had spilled. That meant he wasn’t opposed to airing their dirty laundry. A very bad sign. It looked like Jemima was right; he was about to get a shellacking.

  Bowie released Merritt. “Chance? Outside.”

  “Well, brother, Miss Dixon here—”

  “Oh, please call me Merritt.”

  Chance gave her a friendly smile and glanced back to see Bowie steaming.

  “Merritt has just served me up a fine hot breakfast and I don’t want it to get cold. Why don’t you have a seat?”

  “Have you eaten?” asked Merritt.

  Bowie nodded.

  “Coffee?” she asked, and at his nod she lifted the coffeepot, gave it a shake and then headed back to the kitchen.

  Chance wondered how many miles a day she walked from one room to the next.

  Bowie sat across from him, ignoring the food at his elbow. Chance rose to seat Ellie, smiling at her surprised expression.

  “You sure you want to do this here?” said Bowie. “Running behind skirts will not protect you today.”

  Jemima cleared her throat and Chance thought she hid a smile behind the fist she now held to her mouth.

  Chance nodded, knowing that Bowie was already holding back.

  Bowie turned to Jemima. “Miz Little, did I ever tell you about the time Chance stole my older brother’s horse?”

  “I didn’t have permission,” Chance corrected.

  “And it took a stone in the frog and turned up lame. Instead of taking the cowhiding he deserved, he ran to his ma. Seems Chance is still running.”

  “Here’s your coffee,” said Merritt, appearing from the kitchen with a steaming pot. She quickly retrieved a cup and saucer blooming with pink roses.

  Chance was dying to see Bowie drink out of a vessel that had a grip so small his brother couldn’t get his first knuckle through it. Bowie ignored the cup.

  Merritt took her seat beside Bowie, but she now looked cautious and her smile had taken on a brittle quality.

  “I heard from my deputy that you got into a fight last night at Hell’s Corner.”

  “Did he tell you that the other guy drew first?”

  “Doc Lewis said the man took nineteen stitches in his forehead.”

  “Or that he sat there like a bump on a log instead of doing his job? If he’d have gotten off his duff, I wouldn’t have had to drop that saddle tramp. But he was too interested in his cards.”

  Bowie made a face. “I’ll take that up with him. Right now we are talking about you.”

  “He came at me all horns and rattles. I was defending myself.”

  Bowie slapped his hands on the table, making the dishes jump and sloshing his coffee into pristine white cloth.

  “Dang it, Chance. You been here one day and you killed a man and split another one’s skull open. I got enough to do without you adding more work.”

  Chance kept his tone level. “He drew on me.”

  “Why were you over in the Badlands in the first place?”

  “You know why.”

  Bowie glared, then lowered his voice. “Think you can get through a day without killing anyone?”

  “Don’t know. It’s early yet.”

  There was a knock at the front door and Deputy Glen Whitaker stepped into the foyer.

  “Marshal, I’m sorry to bother you, but I got Miguel Martinez’s wife at the jail. She says her husband’s gone missing.”

  Bowie glanced at Chance, who lifted both hands in surrender. “Wasn’t me.”

  Bowie headed toward the door, pausing only to retrieve his hat. Chance followed. Bowie stopped. “I thought you wanted a hot breakfast.”

  “Changed my mind.”

  Bowie didn’t move.

  “I’m going,” said Chance. “You can’t stop me.”

  “I could shoot you.”

  “I wouldn’t try that.”

  Bowie motioned with his head and the two set off. Chance paused to grab his hat and glance back to the women. “Ellie?”

  “Go on, Chance.”

  He tipped his hat to the ladies. “Thanks for breakfast, Merritt. Pleasure to meet you.”

  Outside Bowie and Chance pulled ahead of his deputy.

  “That wasn’t right,” said Bowie. “What you did back there. What kind of a first impression is that to make?”

  Before Chance could speak Bowie was off again.

  “And Ellie, why drag her into it? She never did anything to you. Now her mother is going to give her hell and why? Because you don’t want to speak to me like a man.”

  Chance had heard enough. “I went to the Morning Glory so I could meet your fiancée.”

  “The invitation was for dinner.”

  “And I brought Ellie to get her out of that hotel and away from her mother.”

  “Best thing you could do for that little gal is to steer clear of her.”

  “You, too? What the hell is so wrong with me that I can’t take Ellie Jenkins out for breakfast?”

  “Nothing I can see, except you’re stubborn as a mule and dangerous as a snake. But you don’t meet her mother’s standards. Don’t feel bad—I don’t, either, though Minnie did throw Ellie under my nose a time or two before she realized I wasn’t going back to the 4C.”

  That tidbit made Chance madder than a wet cat. He didn’t pause to wonder why.

  “You stay clear of her, Bowie.”

  His brother lifted his brows and gave Chance an incredulous look.

  “Chance, I’m engaged. You can count on me keeping clear of Ellie Jenkins. Not sure the same can be said about you.”

  “What’s that suppose to mean?”

  “She’s a nice girl, is all, and she’s Annie’s friend. There’s plenty of good-time girls over on the other side of the tracks, but don’t let Annie catch you. She’s against good-time girls and thinks not a one of those ladies is there by choice.”

  “She’s still trying to save the world.”

  Bowie gave a half smile. “She might just do it, too.”

  Chapter Ten

  He and Bowie parted company after Chance had heard what Miguel’s wife had to say, which wasn’t much. It was suspicious, though, owing to the fact that his little sister had drowned the day before. They had searched the dock, spoken to the ferryman, Muddy Newton, by the river, but he was just waking up. They’d also spoken to Ace Keating at the saddle shop, for he sometimes purchased hides, but Miguel had vanished.

  He headed back to the Royale past the new Town Square,
craning his neck at the brick storefronts. A newspaper office? Chance couldn’t believe his eyes. Where had all these people come from? There must be hundreds of them, going about their business, riding on roads that hadn’t even existed when he left.

  Back at the hotel, Chance found Ellie supervising the dining rooms, as usual. The light from the large room windows poured in on her, giving her brown hair a gilded halo. He stopped in his tracks to breathe in the sight of her unguarded and at ease. He thought about what he’d put her through at the Morning Glory and his usually dormant conscience panged him like a toothache.

  All but two tables were empty, since it was too late for lunch and too early for supper. She turned at his approach, her welcoming smile fixed upon her face. It did not falter when she recognized him; in fact, it seemed to grow more genuine. That look of welcome, unfamiliar to him, made his stomach pitch. He slowed, growing cautious. He’d expected her to give him a sullen stare or the cold shoulder, but what she did surprised him greatly.

  “There you are,” she said as if she missed him and then, “Did you find Miguel?”

  “No sign of him.”

  He felt even more off balance now, as if someone had tilted the floor beneath his feet. He recalled his manners this time and removed his hat, holding it awkwardly before him.

  “Are you all right?”

  “There wasn’t any danger.”

  “I meant are you all right after what Bowie said to you. His words were harsh, I thought. After all, you’ve come back home to help him, have you not?”

  The girl had a head on her shoulders, he’d give her that.

  “Yes. But maybe he doesn’t want my kind of help.”

  She nodded, her gentle smile warming him inside and out.

  “Just what do you know about it?” he asked.

  “Did you want to have something to eat? There’s a very nice private table that’s available.”

  “Your mama will skin you alive.”

  “Mother is off running errands. I haven’t seen her since I returned this morning, unescorted.”

  Chance felt his ears tingle. He’d used her. She knew it, but instead of giving him hell, she forgave him.

  Chance hesitated. “What about your father?”

  “Chance, I am not thirteen years old. I do not need their permission to speak to you.”

  “Don’t you?”

  Her smile turned playful. “Let’s say I think you’re worth the trouble.”

  He didn’t hesitate. “I’m not, though. You were right before. I got nothing to offer you.”

  “But you do keep things lively.” She motioned into the dining room. “Right this way.”

  He followed her to a very nice room off the main dining area decorated with red velvet wallpaper, gilded chairs, a large round table and framed prints of locomotives, flanked by wall lamps with wide milky glass shades. Above the table hung a chandelier glowing with soft lamplight.

  “Looks like the interior of a private Pullman car.”

  Ellie nodded. “Mother used just that as her inspiration, even contracted the lamps from the same manufacturer used by the Pullman Company.” She motioned to one of the servers. “Please ask Sylvia to serve as hostess until I am finished here.”

  “Yes, Miss Jenkins.”

  Chance watched the woman scurry off. Ellie indicated a seat but Chance pulled out a chair for her first. She smiled up at him as he tucked her into the table.

  “Have you eaten?” he asked.

  “No, I was waiting for you.”

  The server returned and Ellie placed the order, checking with Chance as to his preferences and then she surprised him again by not launching into questions as Leanna or Bowie were wont to do. Instead, she filled him in on town happenings and told him all she knew about Quin’s injury and his new wife, a woman Quin apparently called Boston, though her name was Adrianna McKnight. Ellie spoke highly of Addie K. and made Chance feel as if he knew her already. It sounded as if Boston and Quin’s courtship had been stormy. The food arrived and Ellie told him about Merritt and how Bowie used to stay at the Morning Glory until they became engaged. Miss Dixon was not easily won, said Ellie, because her first husband had been a Texas Ranger and since she had been widowed she knew better than most women the dangers of loving a lawman.

  Ellie made Merritt’s choice to wed Bowie seem very brave and Chance felt he’d made a mistake bringing trouble to her home. Seemed Merritt had already had a full measure of trouble.

  Chance sipped his coffee and tucked into a warm apple pie, the taste of cinnamon and baked apple glazing his tongue. He couldn’t remember when he’d enjoyed a meal more. Ellie’s company went down easy as cold spring water on a hot day. She both calmed and amused him. He didn’t know how, but Ellie made him feel at home.

  “Ellie, you’re a fine hostess, you know that?”

  “Oh, nonsense. My mother says I’m too shy and should speak to the customers more.”

  “You’re not shy.”

  “Well, not with you. I know you, Chance. It’s when I’m with someone new that I freeze up. I’m likely to swallow my own tongue as find something interesting to say.”

  “You’re too hard on yourself. I think everything you say is interesting. Of course, I’ve spent the better part of two years talking to my horse.”

  She laughed. The rich, rolling sound did something to his insides. “I hope I am a better conversationalist than all that. Though I’ll wager your horse is a better listener.”

  “That’s true.” He watched Ellie enjoy the last bite of her pie and then scrape her fork over the sticky filling still on her plate. “Ellie, I thought you wanted privacy so you could grill me about what happened last night or what I learned about Miguel.”

  “I’d be happy to listen if you’d like to talk about it, but mostly I wanted to see you got fed. You didn’t get a mouthful at Merritt’s, thanks to Bowie.”

  “Bowie’s right. I shouldn’t have dragged her into it.”

  “She’ll be your family soon. She’ll be in it whether you like it or not.”

  That struck home. “I’ll have a new sister.”

  Ellie nodded, but her smile seemed a little sad now. “You already do. Quin’s wife, Addie K. Remember? I’m jealous, Chance. Your family is growing. I never had brothers and sisters, but I used to pretend I was a member of a big family.”

  “Is that what you’d like?”

  “Oh, yes. I’d love to fill a house up with children.” Her face took on a dreamy quality. “Someplace where I can see the stars and swim in the river and not have to talk all day to strangers.”

  Ellie liked to be outdoors and yet she spent nearly every waking hour inside this grand, gilded prison.

  Chance felt a kick in his gut as he realized that he couldn’t be the one she dreamed about. His job demanded that he move on, chasing the next dodger. It was all he knew now. If he didn’t hunt bounties what would he do?

  Chance tried to picture that house by the river and imagine what it would be like to be the kind of man Ellie Jenkins dreamed about.

  Chance felt his stomach flip. Ellie wanted to be a mother. He could picture her with children. She’d be great at it. But he wouldn’t be there with her. That much was certain.

  Then his jaw clenched. The silence grew heavy. She nearly held her smile. “Everyone deserves to have a family.”

  “I don’t,” he said.

  “Of course you do,” she insisted.

  Chance threw his napkin down. “Ellie, do you know why my father was driving that wagon with a busted wrist? Because I ran off that day. He asked me to drive, but I didn’t want to go to Wolf Grove. I was so damn certain that Quin and Bowie would be back like they promised, I never considered they wouldn’t make it.”

  “Oh, Chance. That’s not your fault.”

  “It was. He asked me. I wasn’t there.”

  “It was an accident.”

  Should he tell her the rest? He looked at her big, sympathetic eyes and knew he could trust he
r.

  “But it wasn’t, either. That’s why we’ve come back. Quin found out they were murdered and he sent for us to help figure out what happened.”

  The shock faded from her face and she set her jaw, staring at him. “I knew something was going on.” She made a fist and thumped it down determinedly on the table. “I just couldn’t puzzle it out. But I knew.”

  “I’m here to find the ones who did this and make them pay. In a funny way, this has brought us back together.”

  She leaned forward, her eyes now intent and focused. “I can help you. I hear things at the hotel. I swear I’m invisible sometimes. Folks just don’t notice me.”

  He was about to ask her how she could believe she was invisible when she was the prettiest woman in the place, but instead he tried to find a way to let her down easy.

  “I don’t need help.”

  “Chance, I loved your parents like they were my own. Please let me do this.”

  She reached across the table, gripping his hand and squeezing his fingers. Her touch was warm and felt right somehow. He wanted to stroke the soft skin on the back of her hand, stroke the pale, fine hair on her bare forearm. Instead, he gave in.

  “All right, Ellie. But you can’t tell anyone. I’d be sorely pressed if I thought I’d put you in any danger.”

  She nodded, ready to keep his secrets, just as she always had.

  “I won’t tell a soul, Chance. I swear I won’t.”

  “Won’t tell a soul what?” asked Minnie from the doorway.

  Ellie jumped an inch off her seat and then scrambled to her feet, but the evidence of her meal remained before her on the table, damning her.

  “I just told Ellie that I’m afraid of scorpions. But if folks knew, it might hurt my reputation.”

  “I doubt that’s possible.” Her mother left the insult hanging in the air. “And as to scorpions, I find they are easily crushed beneath a boot heel.” She narrowed her gaze on her daughter now. “Since when do you take meals with the guests?”

  “He’s not a guest, Mama. He’s an old friend.”

  “Whom I have instructed you to avoid. How was your breakfast with Dr. Lewis?”

  Ellie’s face and neck flamed and she dropped her head.

  “The note was from me, Mrs. Jenkins,” said Chance, throwing himself on the sword for her.