“Yep, that cow didn’t think I needed to touch her baby. But the calf’s in the barn now and the mama alongside it. They’ll be fine.”
“Sit down and share our meal.” Luke glanced at Ruthy.
She smiled and waved Dodger to the table. “There’s plenty. Get off your feet for a spell.”
“That chicken looks mighty good, Mrs. Stone. I’m sure the food in the bunkhouse has gone stone cold by now. I’m obliged for the offer.” Dodger sank down at the kitchen table with a muffled groan. One arm went to his ribs, yet he didn’t complain. Ruthy resisted the urge to offer medical help. Dodger wouldn’t appreciate his weakness being pointed out. He was banged up, but if he was really hurt, he’d probably say so.
Ruthy bustled about, getting a plate and filling it with chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy. She laid a slice of freshly baked bread on the plate, pushed the butter and jelly closer to Dodger, poured everyone a fresh cup of coffee, and sat down to join them.
A few minutes of silence passed, the only sound that of their clinking silverware. Ruthy saw the determined expression on Luke’s face. But he bided his time, letting Dodger eat in peace.
Finally, Dodger swallowed the last bite and lifted his coffee cup, turning to Luke. “What’s going on, boss? I’ve seen that look before. It means there’s a problem.”
“There is a problem, for a fact. Wilcox was drunk today at work.”
Dodger set his cup down with a click of tin on wood. “He was?”
“He bumped into Ruthy. She smelled liquor on his breath.”
Dodger turned and locked his eyes on Ruthy until she wanted to squirm. “Is that all he did, ma’am? You’ve got a mighty kind heart. Are you saying less than the full truth because you’re worried about him losing his job?”
Luke turned to study Ruthy closely while waiting for an answer.
Dragging in a calming breath, Ruthy said, “I am worried about him losing his job. We can’t have a drunkard around the place, but just because he had a drink today doesn’t mean it’s a habit.”
She hadn’t answered Dodger, not completely. She sincerely hoped no one noticed.
“More often than not, drinking during the day, especially a workday, does mean it’s a habit.” Dodger took a drink of his coffee.
Luke worked his jaw until she saw muscles tense in his face. She thought he was reading her mind, seeing the few moments when she’d been just a bit frightened.
Without goading her to say more, Luke turned to Dodger. “I’ve never had a hard-and-fast rule about drinking on the job because I’ve never needed one. No man tries to work cattle while nipping at a bottle.”
Dodger shrugged a shoulder. “No man who wants to live to an old age anyway. A cowpoke needs his wits about him when he’s out dodging hooves and horns.”
Though Dodge sat there exhausted and battered, Ruthy knew he’d be fine. What if he’d been as unsteady as Wilcox? Ruthy knew there was no sense letting an already dangerous job get worse.
“Let’s go talk to the varmint.” Dodger pushed back his chair.
“Reckon he’s asleep by now.” Luke waved at the cup in front of his foreman. “Finish your coffee. We’ll talk with him first thing in the morning, if his head’ll stay on his shoulders.”
“Why wouldn’t his head stay on his shoulders?” Ruthy gasped.
Luke gave her a tight smile. “A drinking man tends to wake up with a sore head. And the best cure for it, to a drunkard’s way of thinking, is to take another drink. A man can have a heap of trouble getting out of that cycle.”
Turning back to Dodger, Luke went on, “A man unsteady because of drink can put himself, the other cowpokes, and his horse in danger.”
“You sure we shouldn’t go see the coyote now?” Dodger took one long, last swallow of his coffee.
“Let’s wait. If he’s worse for drink, we’ll only be wasting our time. In the morning we’ll have it out with him when he’s sobered up. Maybe it’s time to talk to all the men. Make some rules. Just so no one can say they’re surprised that I frown on drinking hard liquor.”
“I suppose morning would be better. But we’ll make it early, before he starts guzzling again.” Dodger rose from the table, stiffer for having stopped and rested, but he kept moving and that was about all any man could do.
He swung the door open just as a gun fired and a bullet ricocheted off the doorframe just inches from his face.
Dodger dove backward.
Luke launched himself toward Ruthy and dragged her to the floor.
“She’s going to be fine,” Dare whispered as he stepped away from the now-sleeping Virginia Belle. He’d been all afternoon tending her, most of it spent just being kind and letting her rest.
Vince had spent that time talking with Mother, and she’d known he was her son. She’d been moved to tears a few times, but Vince had stuck it out when he wanted to run. Afraid she’d forget him while he was hiding from salt water.
Now the lantern lights were turned high, and the sun had dipped behind the mesa west of town. Dare rubbed his back as he straightened from his patient.
Vince knew Mother wasn’t going to be fine . . . ever. But he would hold this day in his heart. His mother had remembered him.
He’d felt plenty of guilt for leaving home once he’d regained his strength after the war. Mother had needed someone to care for her. But she wasn’t about to let that someone be Vince, not back then. And for him it had been a kind of torture to see Mother tremble at the sight of him.
Father had never been proud of Vince, and Vince had learned to handle that. But Mother could be kind if Vince was very mindful of her feelings. Having her forget who he was crushed him until he could barely breathe in that fancy house in Chicago.
So he’d left, wandered, spent a winter reading law books, and finally ended up here to help Luke Stone get back his ranch. And he’d kept his father aware of where he was if he ever quit drifting long enough to have an address. Then Father would write to him, demanding he return home and assume his responsibilities, and Vince would write back and refuse.
Vince had no confidence that Mother would still remember him when she awoke. He braced himself to accept that.
He turned and saw his little sister had leaned forward where she sat and fallen asleep face-first on the table. “Melissa.”
She jerked upright at the sound of her name.
“You’re exhausted.” Vince was surprised at his reflexive interest in protecting her. The thought that Tina was someone’s little sister skittered through Vince’s head, and he banished it the moment he thought it.
Melissa shook her head as if to clear it. Vince realized she still had on the dusty clothing she’d been wearing when she’d stepped out of the coach hours ago.
Vince hadn’t cleaned up all day, either.
Melissa knew how hard Father must have pushed to get across the country as fast as he had. Mother clearly was all done in. Vince felt much the same.
Father had probably washed up, demanded someone make him a meal, and then gone to sleep. Vince hadn’t seen him since he’d left after visiting Mother hours ago.
“You need to rest, Missy. But first, do you have the energy to tell us more about Mother’s condition?”
Melissa rubbed her eyes. She spoke quietly of Mother’s inability to remember dates and names. Melissa’s voice started out rusty from sleep, but she gained energy as she talked. She told them how Mother sometimes got lost in the house where she’d lived for years. And then Father had built a new house. A mansion so huge it was beyond Melissa’s ability to describe.
“Since we’ve moved, Virginia Belle is always restless. I think it’s because she just can’t remember where she is. I suspect she’s searching for anything familiar, and when she’s slipped out of the house, I think she’s trying to go home.
“Until recently she often had tea with old friends, but ever since the move, she’s far more apt to forget names, and she’s always wandering off. Our father finds that embarrassing
and has more or less confined her to the house.” Melissa’s eyes shifted to Vince. “She asks for you quite often. Father wanted you to come home, and when you wouldn’t, he made a snap decision to hunt you down. We set out very suddenly and pushed as hard as possible, racing to make train connections, hiring fast-moving coaches when no train went the direction we wanted.”
“Father doesn’t make snap decisions,” Vince said. “He plots. He decides every move in advance.” For some reason, when Vince said that, he got a chill up his spine. He wasn’t sure why, and he didn’t have time to think more about it now.
“I think he must have been planning to come and see you for a while. Has he known you were living here for long?”
“Long enough.” Vince frowned as he imagined Father getting things in order, then picking his moment to leave.
“All the horses were ready at every stop. Things went too smoothly to be arranged at the last moment, even with money smoothing the way. But I think he was still hoping to get you home. He must have either given up or decided he had a better chance of ordering you home if you met face-to-face.”
“I exchanged telegraphs with him on my trip to New Orleans. I made it clear I wasn’t coming home. That must’ve been the final straw that set Father’s plans into motion.”
“We need to let your mother sleep awhile.” Dare began cleaning up his supplies from the bedside table. “Then you can get her to the boardinghouse, Vince. Your father’s probably all settled in by now. I need to run over to the livery. Sledge cut his arm last week and it’s time for me to take out the stitches. I was on my way there when your folks climbed off that carriage. I forgot all about it until now.”
“Go ahead.” Vince waved Dare off. “I’ll be here.”
Melissa said, “There should be two of us. I’ve learned the hard way that just because she’s sleeping isn’t reason enough to stop our caretaking. One person can’t watch the front and back door all the time. One person has to take occasional breaks, and trouble can happen in an instant. We had two people with her at home at all times.”
Vince looked at the dark circles under Melissa’s eyes. “You’re all in from the trip, Melissa. I’ll be all right with her for a while, if Dare hurries back.”
Melissa said uncertainly, “You look tired yourself.”
Vince remembered the shape he’d been in when he rode into town. He was just as bad now, just as dirty and exhausted and hungry. Only more so because the day had passed and the sun was now setting.
At that moment the door to Dare’s doctor’s office swung open, and Tina came in carrying a tray that smelled wonderful. A red-and-white-checked cloth covered what looked like heaped plates. His stomach growled, and he had his hands full not grabbing the tray away from her.
Dare smiled at her. “Just what we needed. Can you stay with Vince for a little while? Melissa needs rest, and I need to run and check on Sledge’s stitches.”
Tina’s smile faltered, and she gave Vince a quick glance that reminded him of what had happened the last time they were alone together. But Tina couldn’t very well explain that she didn’t want to be alone with Vince for fear he’d kiss her.
“Of course I’ll stay. I left Jonas eating and have nothing to hurry back for. Melissa, I brought a plate of food for you.”
“I’ll take it to the boardinghouse with me. I’m afraid the moment my stomach isn’t poking at me to remind me to eat, I’ll fall asleep where I sit. Best to be near a bed then.”
“Your room’s at the top of the boardinghouse steps, the room farthest to the left. Livvy’s already asleep in there. Paul got her some food. Mr. Yates has the corner room, and he’s gone to bed for the night. I knocked on his door to offer him a meal, though he did stop by the diner earlier and ate. He didn’t answer. I’m sure he was exhausted, too.” Tina added the last part doubtfully. No one could fail to notice how completely unconcerned Father was about his injured wife. Now he was sleeping and no doubt clean and well fed while everyone else hovered at Mother’s bedside.
“Thanks, Tina.” Dare rolled his sleeves down. “I’ll walk you over to the boardinghouse, Melissa.”
Melissa shrugged into her woolen coat and took the plate with a smile of gratitude.
Dare grabbed the doorknob, then paused. “I won’t be long. If your ma keeps sleeping, Glynna and I can watch over her through the night. I haven’t seen Glynna for hours. Heaven only knows where she’s gotten to.”
“She spent the afternoon and early evening with the children, working on their lessons in the room above the diner, and now she’s feeding the prisoner.” Tina set the rest of the food on the table, where Melissa had been napping.
Dare froze, his eyes wide.
“I cooked,” Tina added quickly.
Vince blew out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure exactly where cruel and unusual punishment kicked in, but Glynna’s cooking might come real close. He’d hate for Lana to get out of jail on a technicality.
“I cooked food for you all and the prisoners and Jonas.” For a moment Tina looked disgruntled, and why not? She was feeding the whole town and she wasn’t even making wages at the diner, not since it closed at noon.
“We still don’t know what to do about Lana.” Tina had a fussy expression, the one that tended to make her grab a picket sign.
“I don’t think we can talk about it now without disturbing Vince’s ma.” Dare frowned at his patient. “Then I’ll be back with Glynna and the youngsters to take over.”
Vince wanted to add, We’re going to have to spell each other forever. Because Mother’s problem wasn’t going to go away and somehow they were going to have to find two people available at all times to watch over her.
Dare held the door, and Melissa left, carrying her dinner plate.
Once the door closed, Vince turned to Tina and they stared at each other.
All Vince could think of was that unfortunate moment they’d shared earlier at the jailhouse. After all that had gone on today, that was a plumb stupid thing to be remembering.
And yet . . .
Vince wanted to run. He even took a step back. Tina could handle this for a while.
He’d go clean up, change his clothes, read a book.
Maybe he could guard the front door by standing outside. True, it was cold, but cold might be just the thing.
If Tina was to guard the back door, she could go stand in the kitchen.
With him outside and her in the kitchen, they wouldn’t even have to see each other.
Mother stirred.
Vince thought of the windows she could climb out.
He wasn’t going anywhere.
For now, he and Tina were stuck together.
Chapter 10
Luke threw his body between Ruthy and flying lead. Someone unloaded what sounded like a Winchester rifle into the south side of his cabin. His thinking got very fast, and the world seemed to move at a fraction of its usual speed.
He dragged Ruthy to the floor, twisted so he didn’t land all his weight on his little wife, or crush his child, and laid out his body to block a bullet.
With nearly the same motion he kicked the door shut. Three more bullets slammed into it.
“Get in the closet, Ruthy. Now!” He felt her leave. But they’d talked about what to do in a time of danger. He knew his Ruthy. She was a savvy woman and didn’t waste one second asking to stay. He knew she preferred to face a fight. But he also knew she understood that if Luke knew she was safe, he could concentrate on the danger. And she wasn’t just going to cower in that space beneath the closet floor. She had a gun tucked in there, so she could fight if she had to.
That same shelter was where Glynna Greer had hid from her husband to make him think she’d run off. It had sent Greer riding after his wife and given Ruthy a chance to sneak Glynna out while Luke was busy fighting Greer and his henchmen. The shelter had been built by Luke’s pa, and Glynna had only found out about it because Luke had passed her a note through Dodger telling her to hide, hoping
Greer didn’t know about the secret trapdoor.
Now Ruthy was gone, down those steps to safety, going through the trapdoor that locked solid from inside. But Ruthy was tough. She’d have a gun in her hand, make sure it was loaded, then be back up those steps. Ready for trouble, ready to duck underground if need be. And smart enough not to be in the way while Luke had a fight on his hands.
He thanked God for this woman as he crawled along on his elbows to his Colt. Two more shots slammed into the thick log door. Pa had built this house to withstand just this sort of trouble.
Luke drew the pistol from where he hung his gun belt every night, right inside the back door.
Then silence.
He looked over to see Dodger crouched low, his gun leveled.
There was another blast of gunfire, but it was aimed in a different direction and came from a different sort of gun. He recognized an old Sharps fifty caliber and knew it belonged to Marty, a young cowpoke who was a steady hand. Marty carried his pa’s old gun and wouldn’t part with it. It was the only Sharps on the ranch.
Marty’s gun quit firing. Luke crawled to the lantern hanging by the cookstove and snuffed it. The kitchen now cloaked in darkness, he went to the door and stood to the side of it. Dodger jumped up, went to the other side and flattened his back to the wall. They looked at each other, both with their guns drawn and pointing straight up.
“Ready?” Luke said to Dodger as he reached for the door handle.
Dodger nodded.
Luke eased the door open and waited.
Dodger stepped around it and let it swing all the way to the wall.
“Whoever it was is gone now, boss,” Marty called.
Luke trusted the young man, but even trustworthy men could be wrong. “Stay back, Marty. Dodger and I are coming out, and I don’t want you in the line of fire.”
“Five of us came out of the bunkhouse. We heard the shots, and I just heard someone running off on foot. We’re ready for you, boss. Come on out.”
Luke swung out the door and dropped behind a watering trough next to his hitching post.
No one took a shot. Dodger’s running feet were the only sound as the old-timer went in the opposite direction of Luke, to spread the gunfire. Luke could hear Dodger round the side of the house and stop.
Stuck Together Page 9
