The Horseman's Frontier Family

by Karen Kirst

  Gideon scowled. Every inch of his body hurt. “I’d expected to wake up to a different face,” he drily pointed out.

  The smile widened. “Your lovely widow is enjoying a late breakfast with Alice and Walt.”

  “She’s not mine.” He shook his head in protest, only to cringe. Felt as if someone had buried an ax in the base of his skull.

  Clint quirked a brow. “You called her darlin’. Haven’t heard you call anyone that, not even...” He trailed off, hesitant to speak Susannah’s name.

  Determined to avoid the topic, Gideon leveled his younger brother a “don’t go there” stare. “Where’s Thunder?”

  That wiped the smirk off his face. “While you were out yesterday afternoon, Lije and I repaired the fence. He’s back in his corral.”

  Gideon debated what to do with the horse. It wasn’t as if the animal were mean-spirited. He was acting true to nature. Scraping a hand over the bristle covering his jaws, he said, “Would you mind taking him back to John Turner? Just until I’m on my feet again. I can’t have an untamed animal on the property while Walt and Evelyn are here. That was a mistake on my part.”

  Abandoning the relaxed air, Clint sat up straight, all business now. “Gideon, Lije and I discovered something...disturbing. That fence didn’t fail on its own. Someone tampered with it. Someone wanted it to fail.”

  A memory flickered. His gut tightened with unease. “I remember now. When I saw Thunder break through and head for Walt, I remember thinking it didn’t make sense.” Rage simmered in his veins. “That little boy could’ve been killed.” He leaned forward. The bandages on his wounds pulled at sensitive skin. Pain screamed through his rib cage. “Uh,” he grunted, and fell back, angry at his inability to even breathe without consequences.

  He felt Clint’s hand on his shoulder. Looking over at his brother, he saw determination, a promise. Clint would do everything in his power to deliver justice.

  “Lars and I will look into it,” Clint said. “We’ll find out who did this and punish them to the full extent of the law.”

  “You’re good for this town.”

  Shrugging off the praise, he said, “I know we ruled out the Chaucers as being responsible for the crimes plaguing Brave Rock, but considering what happened the other day between you and Reid, do you think one of them might’ve done it? To get back at you for influencing their sister?”

  Gideon mulled it over. “I can’t see them doing anything that would put Walt or Evelyn in danger. On the other hand, they could’ve assumed neither one would go near the stallion.”

  Please, God, don’t let it be them. Evelyn would be crushed.

  Communicating with his heavenly Father was slowly freeing him from his anger. The accident had opened his eyes to how wrong he’d been to turn away from the only one who could give him true and lasting peace. Comfort. Healing.

  God was sovereign. The creator of the world, the director of all history. Who was Gideon to question His choices, His plan?

  I’m sorry, Lord, for the past year and a half. Forgive me. Help me to mourn Maggie properly. And to celebrate the short time I had with her.

  Clint brought him back to the present. “Or it could’ve been Reeves. You did decline to assist him and his cronies. He wouldn’t have been too happy about that.”

  “Nor McGraw,” he agreed, frustration setting his teeth on edge. Had the danger passed? Had the scoundrels gotten what they wanted? Or were Evelyn and Walt still vulnerable?

  “How’s the patient?” Alice breezed through the doorway, flame-colored hair scraped back in a sensible bun, bright blue gaze taking his measure. He didn’t like the determined set to her chin.

  Slipping between Clint and the cot, she deposited her medical bag on the quilt near his feet and placed a cool palm against his forehead. He felt like a child suddenly and scowled at Clint’s amused expression.

  When she retrieved a pillow and settled it against his midsection, his scowl deepened. And when he obeyed her instructions to breathe deeply and cough and fire engulfed his torso, Clint lost the amusement real quick.

  “I need to clean those wounds and change the bandages,” she said. “Clint, would you mind helping him remove his shirt?”

  “Never thought I’d see the day when I had to have help getting dressed,” he groused as Clint carefully helped him to his feet and tugged the sleeves down. He knew he was being a grump, but it was either that or weep.

  His lawman brother’s gaze was sharp, missing nothing, but he played along. “You think I’m enjoying this, do you? I’m not exactly nursemaid material.”

  By the time they had him on his stomach atop the pallet, which was wider and flatter than the cot, sweat dotted his brow and black edged his vision. Thankfully, Alice worked quickly and efficiently and, once she was done, suggested he rest there for a while.

  “Thanks, Alice.” He didn’t know where he’d be, or Brave Rock for that matter, without her nursing skills.

  “No thanks necessary. Get some rest.”

  When Clint made to leave, he called out. “Hold up a minute.”

  The scuffed boots stopped, pivoted, and then his brother’s serious face entered his line of vision.

  “I can’t protect them like this,” he said, “not with me in here and them out there in the tent at night. I need you and Lije to help me convince the women to move me to the tent. Evelyn and Walt can have their room back.”

  He didn’t have to ask their opinions on the matter. Alice would no doubt fret over dirt and exposure. Evelyn would refuse to switch places on principle.

  Clint shook his head. “I’ll try, but you know they can be mighty determined when they have a mind to. Besides, I don’t think that’s the best solution.”

  “It’s the only one. If my cabin was finished, they could stay there. At least they’d have a locking door.”

  Clint’s eyes lit with resolve. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll get it all figured out.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Who are all those people, Mama?”

  Such a simple word—mama—but it brought a smile to her face. Looking up from where she sat in the shade with her pile of clothes to be mended, her lips parted at the sight that greeted her. Wagons—had to be eight or ten of them—rambled across the open fields.

  “I recognize some of them from church,” she murmured. “Keith and Cassie Gilbert, the Lambert and Johnson families.”

  Elijah, who’d been quietly studying his Bible nearby as Alice tended to Gideon, stood with a pleased, expectant smile.

  “Are we hosting some sort of church meeting?” she questioned, returning the pair of pants she’d been working on to the pile and thrusting the needle in the pin cushion.

  A breeze ruffled his dark hair, pushing it across his forehead and lending him a boyish air. “You could say that.” His sparkling gaze touched hers. “Actually, they’re here for a cabin raising.”

  Clint’s wagon led the pack. As they neared, she noticed the myriad tools filling the beds. Women clutched baskets on their laps. Food for the crowd?

  Evelyn went to stand beside him, Walt following. “Are you saying all these people have dropped everything to come and build Gideon’s cabin?”

  “Yes.”

  It wasn’t an uncommon practice, but up until two weeks ago, Gideon hadn’t set foot inside the church. Granted, he’d helped out a time or two with the new church building. That these families would give up time—a valuable commodity when not only daily chores awaited but so did preparations for the winter—touched her deeply.

  Overcome with emotion, she lifted Walt and whirled him in a circle, planting a big kiss on his cheek. He laughed, a happy, carefree cascade of sound.

  “Why’d you do that?”

  With a final squeeze, she put him down. “I’m so very happy you�
�re my son, that’s why.”

  And because in a few short hours, Gideon would have a home.

  “Did you arrange for this?” she asked Elijah, fully expecting him to say yes.

  “Nope.” Brotherly pride ringed his smile. “Clint did.”

  Clint? She watched the stoic lawman park his wagon, jump down and begin directing everybody. It appeared that beneath that gold star beat a sensitive heart. The more she learned about the Thorntons and the more she saw them in action, the higher her respect rose for the brothers.

  My parents were wrong. My brothers were wrong, and so was I.

  Four men hastily set up a makeshift table to hold the bounty of food. Bringing up the rear, Lars and Jed Lambert carried a pole strung with a deer carcass, and already Keith Gilbert was starting a huge fire where they could roast it.

  A pan of rolls in her hands, Cassie Gilbert hurried over. “Hello, Evelyn. Elijah, how is Gideon faring? It’s just horrible what happened.”

  “He’s doing as well as can be expected. Alice is taking excellent care of him.”

  Evelyn had gone in to see him earlier, but he’d already drifted off to sleep. He’d looked younger than his thirty-three years, wan and worn from his ordeal. Still handsome, though. Nothing could detract from his appeal. Not in her eyes, anyway.

  “We’re praying for him,” Cassie told him.

  “Thank you.”

  Dakota ran up then. “Hiya, Preechah.” He greeted Elijah with dancing black eyes. “Hiya, Walt.”

  “Hi, ’Kota,” Walt returned with a shy wave.

  Dakota’s jaw hit his chest. “You—” He pointed at Walt. “He—” He looked incredulously at the adults circling him.

  Cassie’s expression communicated her wonder. Elijah burst out laughing, reached out and ruffled the boy’s shoulder-length brown hair. “Yes, Dakota, Walt is talking again. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “When did this happen?” Cassie asked Evelyn.

  “I’ll explain later,” she promised, reluctant to bring up the accident in front of Walt. He was still awfully worried about Gideon.

  Dakota seized the younger boy’s hand. “Come on, let’s play by the water.”

  “Stay close,” Cassie called after him. Nodding and waving, the two ran off.

  “Winona is at the reservation today,” she said, “so I’m keeping an eye on Dakota. Such a fine boy.”

  Other women trickled over to their group, and the conversation turned to how best to organize lunch for the crowd. Katrine barely had time to say hello before the older women began assigning tasks. It wasn’t until after everyone had eaten and the bulk of the mess had been cleaned up that Evelyn was able to get away to check on Gideon.

  He stirred when she opened the door. Entering the cooler, dimmer space, she set the bowl of stew on the small table.

  “What’s going on out there?” Voice husky from sleep, he rolled carefully onto his back and blinked up at her. “Sounds like an army. Are we being invaded?”

  “Only by well-meaning church members,” she returned lightly, going to stand beside the pallet so he didn’t have to crane his neck. “My guess is that by this time tomorrow, you will have yourself a new home.”

  His eyes went wide. “What?”

  “Your brother rounded up friends and neighbors. At this moment the walls are finished and they are starting on the roof.”

  “The folks of Brave Rock respect and love Elijah. They would do anything for him.”

  “That they would,” she agreed. “However, it’s Clint you’ll have to thank. It was his idea, and he’s the one who went door-to-door asking for help.”

  He looked stunned, then rueful. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. He’s good at mustering enthusiasm for a cause, bringing people together. That’s what makes him such a good sheriff.”

  Gathering her skirts, she crouched beside him. “I understand completely. Elijah is our town’s beloved preacher, and normally he is the leader. Clint is more reserved but no less effective in getting things done.” Cocking her head, she threaded wayward strands behind her ears. “Do you want my opinion?”

  His eyes warmed to soft gray. “Always.”

  “I think they’re here to support all three of you. The Thornton name carries a lot of weight in this town, despite my brothers’ attempts to sully it. People respect you.”

  “Thank you, Evelyn,” he intoned. “That you would say that means a lot more than you think.”

  Feeling as if her inner thoughts were written across her forehead, she smiled and motioned to the table. “I brought you some beef stew and corn bread.”

  “Smells good.”

  He accepted her offer to help him to the cot. Sensing he tried not to rest his entire weight on her, she nevertheless gloried in the feel of his large body close to hers, warm and solid and more like home than she’d ever experienced. Calling herself all kinds of a fool, she tried to focus on anticipating his needs and not on how he made her feel.

  About the time Gideon’s spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl, Clint knocked on the open door, unnecessarily announcing his presence. His arrival was, in some ways, a blessing. She needed space to think, to regain proper perspective, to bury these fairy-tale dreams of Gideon, herself and Walt living on this claim as a true family.

  Even if you and Gideon had met on different terms, he’s made his stance on marriage clear. So have you. Or have you forgotten your miserable existence with Drake?

  She had to concentrate on building a new life for her son. He was her priority. His love and companionship would have to be enough.

  Exiting with as much equanimity as she could muster, Evelyn threw herself into the never-ending list of chores, losing herself amidst the cluster of workers. No one noticed her preoccupation. After a quick supper of leftovers, everyone departed for their homesteads, promising to return after breakfast in the morning to complete the roof and construct a front porch.

  Coward that she was, she took Walt with her when she checked in on Gideon, allowing them to engage in conversation while she tidied up the room. Evelyn avoided his question-filled gaze and, when he caught her hand after she bade him good-night, attributed her subdued manner to fatigue.

  “Tomorrow you’ll have a roof over your head again.”

  Familiar determination settling across his features, he said, “I want you and Walt to sleep in the cabin. You’ll be more comfortable there.”

  “Absolutely not.” She tugged her hand free. “That’s your home. Not mine.”

  Cradling his ribs, he shifted against the pillows, shot her an enigmatic look. “We don’t know that for sure, do we?”

  Suddenly the claim dispute hung between them. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him to forget the court case, that he could have the land. But she didn’t dare. That would invite speculation, questions she didn’t want asked. She would have to answer to not only Gideon but her brothers. What in the world would she tell them?

  “I won’t do it, Gideon. The tack room is perfectly suitable for us.”

  One refined brow arched. “We’ll see.”

  “Yes, we will.” She stiffened her spine. Stubbornness wasn’t only a Thornton family trait. “If there’s nothing else you need, it’s time for Walt to get to bed.”

  His narrowed gaze fell to her mouth. “I don’t require anything else, Nurse Montgomery.”

  Tingles of awareness zipped through her, invading her limbs with a languorous warmth. Ruthlessly denying the irresponsible longing surging within her, she gave him a brisk nod.

  “Good night, then, Gideon. Sleep well.”

  * * *

  Evelyn was avoiding him.

  She’d made herself scarce the entire day. Elijah had brought in his breakfast. At lunchtime she’d arrived with Alice and stayed only long enough to place his
plate and silverware on the table. No doubt she hoped to avoid a continuation of last night’s conversation.

  He wasn’t ready to let the matter drop, however, so when Lije came in midafternoon to inform him the cabin was finished and his bed was being put together, he demanded to speak with her.

  Sensing something amiss, his older brother sank into the chair. “Evelyn is with the other women readying the mattress. Is there a message I can give her for you?”

  “In other words, why don’t I tell you what the problem is so you can weigh in on it?” Gideon said without bite. He couldn’t fault Lije’s inherent compassionate nature.

  An amused smile flashed on his brother’s face. “I do have a lot of practice, you know.”

  Gideon blew out a frustrated breath. “I want her and Walt to move into the cabin, but she refuses.”

  “On what grounds?”

  “Because it’s my cabin, not hers. But we both know that may not be the case for much longer.”

  “That’s true.” He crossed one leg over the other knee and toyed with his boot strings. “Why is it so important to you?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” He spread his hands wide, instantly regretting the action. “The cabin is safer. Considering everything that’s going on in our town, I’d prefer that she stay there. Besides, it’s the gentlemanly thing to do. Would you let Alice sleep in a stable while you slept like a king in his castle?”

  Elijah gave a commiserating grunt. “I see your point. However, I also understand Evelyn’s rationale. In the eyes of the townsfolk, this is your property. They’ve just spent the last two days erecting your cabin. Don’t you think tongues would wag if she moved in instead of you?”

  “Let them wag. I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

  “You may not, but I believe she does. Try to see things from her point of view. She’s spent the past three weeks in the company of your friends and family, knowing they’re aware you’re on opposite sides of a land dispute. Her brothers’ actions have no doubt added to the awkwardness of the situation. I’m sure she doesn’t want to call any more attention to herself.”