“Bring them over here,” he directed. “We numbered them according to priority, based on the items we felt would be most necessary in the event of an emergency. Let’s stack three on the bottom, then two, then one.” He met them halfway and moved to take Claire’s side. He helped Mary take number three to the corner.
“Do you really think Jim is ready for this?” she whispered quietly after they lowered the box.
“He was ready to come home.”
She rolled her eyes and he smiled. Eye rolling must be a Hawarden sister trait.
“Is he ready for this?” She reiterated.
“In situations like this, Mary, we all need to be as ready as we can be. If anything happened and Jim were still in the infirmary, he would never have forgiven himself. As physicians, we have to consider the emotional as well as the physical.”
His eyes rested on the dark circles under Mary’s eyes, and he let the moment draw out.
Mary looked up at him, a flush creeping up her face as she licked her lips and looked away from his gray assessing eyes.
Claire knew her sister well and she watched Mary’s breath quicken as she stepped away her eyes wide, and her face flushed.
Mary frowned and looked at Claire. “Claire, help me with the second box.”
Claire was already standing at the box, waiting for her. She’d watched the exchange between Doc Jamison and her sister with interest. Mary wasn’t ready for anything right now—and certainly not another relationship. Surely, he realized that?
He was certainly insightful, though, she’d give him that.
No one had shown any real concern about Mary’s mental state except for Claire, and after their conversation yesterday and Mary’s inability—or choice—to avoid dealing with her grief, well it concerned her. Maybe the docs staying here with them was not a bad thing after all. At least Jim and now maybe Mary would be their focus rather than herself.
Eighteen
Outside Kneeland’s Pass
The sheriff kept the men far from the creek, just in case the outlaws had moved their camp closer or were gathering water. Ranger Dudley had taken his men a couple of miles to the east in order to get beyond the outlaws, and hopefully come at them from the north.
Sully and Ranger Dudley both had a sneaking suspicion that these men were part of a larger, more organized group. If that was the case, it was imperative they capture some of these men alive.
Earlier in the day he, Mangus, and the Ranger had gone ahead to confirm the men were still camped where they had seen them the day before, and they were. This in itself was a huge relief, although they hadn’t been able to get close enough to determine where John and the other captives were being kept—if indeed they were still alive.
The plan was to surround them tonight, after most had hopefully fallen asleep, and capture as many as possible. Mangus had agreed to be one of the three men tasked with finding the captives and getting them out alive. It was the top and first priority. They hoped that the confusion they planned to create would keep the outlaws otherwise occupied for long enough that they wouldn’t think about the captives until it was too late.
If the outlaws had been careless enough, the captives might be a good source of information as well. He knew John Barker would be aware of the importance of listening closely to their conversations, but he couldn’t speak for the people taken from the train. It had taken a while to track down who they were, and the thing that concerned him most was that three of the four were residents of Bareglen Creek. Next, he needed to find out why.
The men were restless. The most challenging part of any posse was to keep them disciplined and unified for any length of time. He understood it—but he also knew timing was everything.
He had experienced scouts checking the perimeter and when one returned saying that two of the men had ridden toward town, it took everything he had to stay where he was rather than riding to protect Claire.
Claire. The thought of her made him smile, despite their current situation. He could only imagine what things were like back at Mary’s house with two doctors in the house and a woman who could barely stand any attention focused on her. He wondered why she was that way and hoped he could discover more before she returned to Philadelphia. There was a war taking place inside him—one side wanted to know everything possible about her—and the other warned him there was no point.
He pushed all thoughts of her aside. Sully would be no good to his men if he was distracted. He had to trust that Jim, Mary, and the doctors would protect her, and one another.
An hour later, the scout returned to tell him that the two riders had returned with five additional men. Part of him was relieved—at least they hadn’t headed toward the farm. The flip side was this was something they hadn’t planned for, and there was no way to get word to the Rangers. He would have to trust the Rangers had their own scouts on the other side. If not, they still had the element of surprise on their side.
As evening approached, the world around them grew quiet. He reminded the men more than once to remain absolutely silent, and then he threatened them within an inch of their lives. There was no room for discovery—it would ruin everything, and he had no doubt that many would be killed. Finally, the men grew completely silent.
As luck would have it, there was a crescent moon tonight. The sky was alive with stars, but there would be no light from the moon to give them away. A coyote howled in the distance, followed by another.
Moments like this reminded him of why he’d chosen Texas. He’d never experienced any other place on earth with a sky this big, with stars packed so thickly, it looked like you couldn’t fit another one in if you tried. He missed Pennsylvania at times, and traveled back several times a year, but over the last two years this place had become his home. There was a rawness here, and it was wild without doubt, but the people were good. They were real. Although there was more than enough bad guys thrown into the mix, the way the people of Bareglen Creek worked together to help one another, orphans, and newcomers to their town, made him proud.
Mangus approached him. “Campfire,” he said, making a sweeping motion with his hand.
“They’ve made a large campfire?” he asked. Mangus nodded.
Then Mangus picked up a stone from the ground and placed it to his mouth.
“They’ve eaten dinner?”
Mangus nodded at him, then gestured they were drinking.
“Good, thank you, Mangus.”
Mangus held up one finger.
“Yes,” Sully responded. “We wait one more hour.”
Nineteen
Mary’s Farm
Jim was resting, and the men were talking shop.
Claire sat at the table strumming her fingers. “I’m going to go hang out with Colossal,” she announced, looking at Mary.
“Colossal?” Lance Holloway asked.
“He’s my longhorn.” Claire’s mouth curved into a smile.
The doctors looked at Mary. “He really is her longhorn. It’s weird—they have an odd connection—a staring contest every day.”
“This I have to see,” the men echoed in unison.
“I’m not sure that’s wise,” Claire warned as she stood looking down at them.
“Why not?” Lee Jamison’s gray eyes studied her.
“He’s a bit testy, and with all the male posturing happening between the two of you, I’m not sure there’s enough space in the yard for both of you—and Colossal.” She sauntered out the door, and Mary burst into laughter at the look of astonishment on their faces.
“I think I’ll join you.” Mary rushed out of the house ahead of the men.
Claire had her chore pants on. She had a theory about Colossal, he seemed less…aggressive on the days she wore pants rather than dresses. Maybe it was the bright colors of her dresses that annoyed him, or he liked men better. Then again, maybe it was just her imagination. Regardless, she needed every advantage possible on her side in the quest to win him over. If nothing else, it wou
ld be more interesting than the boring shop talk taking place in Mary’s kitchen.
She was determined. Today would be the day she and Colossal came nose-to-nose, maybe not friends, just yet, but definitely nose-to-nose with the corral between them.
Claire heard steps behind her and swung around, hands on her hip. “There isn’t room for the both of you out here with me.” She looked at the men. “I’m serious, you’ll distract him. He knows Mary, but you are threats.”
Mary uttered a giggle. Claire looked at her with surprise registered on her face. She expected her sister to back her up.
“She’s probably right, guys,” Mary conceded. “You need to stay back. She won’t get anywhere with him if strangers are nearby, and if Claire thinks you’ve made her fail at her quest—well, I know of at least two people who will be sleeping outside with the dog tonight.”
"She’s about to take on a longhorn, Mary,” Lance chided. “I’ve seen what those bulls can do and it’s ugly. In fact, I’ve seen people die in the space of seconds on the horns of one of those. This isn’t a joking matter.”
“Yes, well, for whatever reason, it’s not a joke to her either.”
Claire took in the concern in Lance’s eyes and the curious intensity in Lee’s. Mary stood between them and gave her an encouraging smile. The silence grew long and in an unconscious gesture, Claire pulled her heavy mass of hair up off the back of her neck. She was sweating, nervous—and the slight breeze felt good on her neck, yet an audience was the last thing she needed. Mary was still smiling, and that was a rare sight. She made her decision.
“All right, you can stay.” Her eyes narrowed. “But don’t move an inch closer.”
She swung around, pushed the audience to the back of her mind, and moved toward the corrals the same way she did every day. The same pace, the swing of her hands, the same breathing pattern. She needed to be calm.
Like a creature of habit, Colossal appeared to be waiting for her. He stomped his hoof as though scolding her for being a few minutes late. She smiled at him, their eyes locked, like they always did—except usually she wasn’t smiling.
She broke contact with him to greet the mare standing close to the fence. She nuzzled her nose against Claire, looking for the carrot that always found its way out of the human’s pocket. Claire didn’t disappoint. She scratched behind her ears, kissed the mare’s nose and then reached into her pocket for the carrot, and was met with a satisfied nicker.
Claire stepped away from the fence, re-engaging with Colossal. He seemed off a bit today. Could he sense something different about this day, or was it something else? She turned back to look at her audience. Jim had joined them, and Mary had a hand out, trying to restrain him from moving farther forward. Claire rolled her eyes at him, raised an eyebrow and mouthed, “Don’t ruin this.” She slowly turned back to Colossal.
“Hey, Colossal,” she whispered softly, using the same tone she always did when she talked to him. His ears flicked forward. “You like that, don’t you? The name I’ve given you. It’s fitting for a bull so strong and mighty as you.”
She took two steps toward him, her peripheral vision staying attuned to his ears, her eyes never leaving his. “Are you ready to be my friend?” Two steps closer. “It’s okay if you’re not, I just thought it time that we become better acquainted, you and I,” her voice was melodious, and steady. She reached the edge of the mare’s corral and waited.
“Do you ever wish you could be free, Colossal?” She stepped beyond the corral, ten feet from his. “Or do you like the predictability of your days?”
She let the question sit between them.
“I’m not here to intrude on your territory or challenge you, Colossal,” she assured him. “Truthfully, I’m not sure why I’m here. But now that I am, let’s work together, you and me, okay?”
She paused, five feet from the edge of his corral and watched his ears go back. She held her breath.
“Claire…” came a loud whisper behind her. It was Jim.
She wanted to swing around and tell him to knock it off, but that would ruin everything. Instead, she pulled her hand out of her pocket and held it up to silence Jim. All was quiet, but then Colossal’s ears came forward.
It dawned on her. The carrots. Maybe he wanted a carrot too. Did longhorn cattle eat carrots, she wondered? Guess there was only one way to find out. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a carrot. “Is this what you want, boy? If the mare gets a carrot you should get one, too, right?” She moved two steps closer, slow, steady, shoulders squared, watching him closely. So far so good.
“Only good longhorns get carrots, Colossal.” His ears flicked at the sound of his name and she smiled into his eyes. “You do like your name, don’t you? You know it’s you.” She took another step and then another. He watched her closely, but his ears stayed forward, curious.
She paused when she was two feet from the corral. She figured she was out of the reach of his horns if he charged.
“You’re going to have to meet me halfway, Colossal. I don’t want you to think I’m intruding on your territory.” She took one more step, then stopped.
He stomped his foot.
“I’m not coming any closer, Colossal. You’ve got to meet me if you want it,” she assured him in the same soft, melodious voice.
She stretched her arm toward him slowly, the carrot in her palm.
He looked at it, back at her, and stepped forward.
Elation filled her, but she tried to breathe through it, to stay steady. “That’s right, Colossal, it’s yours for the taking. Only good longhorns get carrots,” she reminded him as she stepped forward to place the carrot on the top of the fence.
Their eyes were locked and suddenly Claire caught her foot, catapulting her toward the corral rail. And with one swing of his head, Colossal hooked his horn under the leather suspenders holding her pants. He swung his head back to the right, sending Claire flying through the air, and landing in a heap at the outside corner of his coral. Then he snatched the carrot with his long tongue and casually galloped back toward the other corner.
“Claire!” Mary screamed as she raced toward her sister, the steps of the others pounding behind her.
Claire was pushing herself up as Mary reached her. “No, Claire, stay where you are—you could be seriously hurt.”
“The only thing that’s hurt is my pride,” she announced, pushing Mary’s hand away as she sat up, wincing as she did. She was standing when the others reached her.
“That was one of the most stupid things I’ve ever seen you do, Claire Hawarden,” Jim announced when he reached her, “and I’ve seen you do some foolhardy things,” he reiterated, spinning her around and taking her by the shoulders.
She winced. “Are you all right, sis?” He scoured the front of her with his eyes, looking for blood.
She pushed him back, brushed herself off and held her hand up before Doc Holloway could utter a word. “I’m fine.”
With one look back at Colossal, who seemed quite content with his carrot, she breezed past Jim, and stomped toward the house, rubbing her backside.
“She’ll be sore,” Lance observed.
“That she will,” Lee agreed.
“What possesses her?” Jim asked Mary.
“When I figure that out, I’ll let you know,” she replied, moving toward the house to see if Claire needed assistance.
* * *
“I think we made progress,” Claire announced to a quiet table at dinner that night.
“You and Colossal?” Mary asked.
“Yes,” Claire confirmed with a half-smile.
“You’ve lost your mind, Claire. That bull could have killed you today—nearly did in fact—and you think you made progress? Progress toward what, exactly?” her brother challenged.
Every fiber of her body ached, but she wasn’t about to let them know that. “He could have killed me,” she agreed with a pointed look at Jim, “but he didn’t. I think he just wanted to put me in my p
lace—let me know who’s the king of his corral. Or maybe he knew it was the first and last carrot he’d be getting in a while. I told him only good longhorns get carrots, and clearly he doesn’t fit that category.”
She dared a glance at Lee Jamison. He was staring at her with those intense, gray eyes. Sometimes she thought they could see right through people. It made her stomach squeamish.
She moved to Lance’s steel-blue eyes, which were equally intense but in a different way—they seemed to assess from a clinical perspective rather than a need to be inside the other person’s mind.
Claire glanced back at Lee—that was it—he sought to understand the inner workings of the mind. Interesting, she thought as her eyes moved to Jim, who was looking at her like she’d lost her mind, but Mary smiled at her when she reached her eyes.
“It scares me that I think I actually understand where you’re coming from, Claire.”
Claire thanked her with a smile.
“But when I saw you crumpled in a ball at the end of the corral—and I thought I might have lost you, too…” her voice was a mere whisper, her eyes moist with tears. “Jim’s right, it was foolhardy, and for what? Please, don’t risk that again, Claire. Longhorns are unpredictable. Whatever connection you think you have with him, is it worth risking your life and your future?” Mary pushed her chair back from the table and began collecting plates.
Claire dropped her eyes. What had come over her? It had seemed like such a simple game between Colossal and her, in theory—but Mary was right, and Claire regretted causing her sister more heartache.
With a sigh and a wince, she stood to help Mary.
“I don’t want your help.” Mary looked at Claire through tear-filled eyes. “Why don’t you go rest—you look like you’re in pain.”
“I’m fine,” she argued, picking up her plate, and Lance’s, taking them to the sink where her sister had begun to fill a pot with water.
Lawfully Charmed_Texas Lawkeeper Romance Page 8
