"Ben came by and said the posse caught up with the thieves. They're down in the jail now. He says they're part of a notorious gang the sheriff's been trying to stop for some time now. Pecos apparently killed two of them, and one they brought in is raging mad because one of them was his brother. This is just like reading a novel, Evie. Do you think they've got a father out there who will ride in to save his son and get revenge?"
Evie sighed and pulled off a glove. "Tyler isn't Pecos Martin anymore than I am, Daniel. He's just a Natchez gambler with time on his hands. He's probably over at the saloon fleecing some poor farmer right now. I'm sorry I ever let you think he was anything else."
Daniel looked momentarily deflated, then threw Evie a shrewd look. "You wouldn't be saying that just because you're mad at him, would you? I know he doesn't look like the description in the book, but you've got to admit he's awful handy with his guns. Did you find him at the Green Door like I said?"
"I found him at the Green Door, yes, but I suspect he was just looking for an excuse to get out of a card game before the other players caught on to what he was doing."
"Tyler doesn't cheat, Evie." Daniel swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I watched him play. You cheated by giving away Dorset's hand, but Tyler was playing it straight. And Monteigne means Martin in French. What makes you think he isn't Pecos?"
"Because the minute he walked out of the Green Door he was accosted by women who called him Tyler. Not just one woman. Two. He was known in that town we went to, too. They all called him Tyler. And if he isn't known as Pecos in Texas, then where does the name come from?"
Daniel studied that for a moment. "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter what he's called. He got us here safe and sound. But if you don't start being nicer to him, he's going to leave before that lawyer gets back, and we might never find out who your parents are."
"Nicer to him?" Evie realized she was practically screeching when Daniel gave her an odd look, and she lowered her voice. "I'd sooner be nice to a rattlesnake. You're not a woman, and you don't understand these things, Daniel. Just take my word for it: being nice to Tyler Monteigne would be the biggest mistake of my life. We can find out about my parents without him."
"Somebody was awful careful to keep your identity hidden, Evie. How do you know they weren't trying to hide you from something dangerous?" Daniel limped toward the doorway, cane in hand.
"Have you seen anything dangerous in this town? A person could fall asleep in the road, and horses would step over him. They're simply hiding the fact that they weren't married. I'm old enough to face the truth. It's time we both did."
Daniel frowned. "People don't keep paying that much money to hide a mistake. I'm perfectly legitimate, for heaven's sake, and my parents don't pay that much to hide me. Be careful, Evie. Don't start going honest yet."
Don't go honest yet. Evie threw her gaze heavenward as Daniel walked out. She wasn't even certain what honest was anymore. But then, neither did that scoundrel, Tyler Monteigne.
She wondered how scandalized the town would be if the new schoolmarm visited a saloon.
Chapter 12
Jason Harding stretched his legs beneath the wooden table and desultorily threw a card at the stack in the middle. "Cotton prices ain't what they were before the war, I agree. And I can't argue that we've been benefiting from the demand for beef."
Tyler gave the cards in his hand a cursory glance and threw a coin on the table. "With all that free government range out here, feeding cattle should be relatively inexpensive. Looks like a promising business to me."
The man in the bowler hat on Tyler's right raised the ante and checked the pocket watch in his red-plaid waistcoat. Tyler pushed the man's coins back to him.
At the man's surprised look, Tyler waved his hand for a second round of beers and said, "You might want to check that top card you have there. I don't believe it belongs to this deck. I'm ready to call this game, boys. How about you?"
Jason raised heavy black eyebrows at this subtle suggestion that the drummer was cheating, but he threw his cards over face up and raised no objection to ending the game. The fourth party in the game took the hand and added the few coins on the table to his meager winnings. He tipped his hat at the offered beer and wandered off with the mug. The red-faced drummer pocketed his coins and left his beer behind. Tyler pocketed the large stack of greenbacks in front of him.
Before any comment could be made on the game, the saloon door bounced open and a younger version of Jason strode in, a grin a mile wide on his face showing the main difference between the brothers' characters.
Kyle was wide-open and easygoing. Jason was the serious one.
"Jace, why in hell didn't you tell me about the new schoolmarm? A fellow could trip over his own feet meeting her without warning like that. Whooee! Reckon I can go back to school?"
"I know a better way to teach you manners than sending you back to school," Jason said, tucking away his money. "This here's a friend of Mrs. Peyton's. He might want to straighten you out on the proper way of speaking about a lady."
The reprimand didn't reduce Kyle's enthusiasm. He held out his hand to the stranger. "Kyle Harding. Any friend of the lady's is bound to be a friend of mine. She ain't already taken, is she?"
"Tyler Monteigne, Mr. Harding. And the lady does her own choosing. I'll warn you she comes in a package with an eighteen-year-old brother, though. You can't court her without courting him."
Kyle straddled a chair and took the untouched beer in front of him. "Brothers are easier than kids. That the boy with the gimp? Heard he raised hell when Phil tried to throw the nigger out. Phil's one of those hotheads convinced the niggers are planning to take over the government. The boy better get his friend out of there before Phil decides a bit of arson will speed his progress."
"It's the white men behind the niggers that you gotta watch out for," Jason said. "Personally, I think all politicians ought to be taken out and shot on general principles. What do you say, Monteigne? Want to come out and look the ranch over and stay a spell? As soon as we get railroads in here, the cattle business will boom."
Tyler relaxed and decided he didn't need to punch out Kyle's teeth. Both Hardings wore the stamp of that rare breed of Western generosity that made it impossible not to like them, even if their references to Evie and Ben were less than polite. He might want to kick their teeth in, but he would like them the whole damned time he was doing it. He saw no reason not to accept Jason's offer.
"I've heard about those cattle drives to Abilene. Is that the closest station, then?"
"There's Santa Fe if you want to ship them west. We drive ours to Abilene. Hang around, and you can go with Kyle. I rode that trip once and decided I was getting too old too fast to do it again."
Tyler grinned and drained his mug. "Might take you up on that. If I come out to stay, you'll have to give me some chores. I'm not used to a life of leisure."
"He can have mine, and I'll stay here and court the beautiful Mrs. Peyton. It'd be nice to have a woman around the place again."
Jason leaned over and gently cuffed his younger brother. "You'll do your own chores and leave the lady to hers. Saturdays are good enough for courting. Have you got that bag of feed we came in for?"
Tyler felt his good humor eroding fast. He wanted this opportunity to investigate cattle ranching, but he was going to have a hard time holding his temper while he watched the Hardings court Evie. They were no doubt good, honest, upright citizens, but Evie came from a different world that they would never appreciate. They shouldn't be allowed to touch her.
The deputy sheriff leaning against the bar picked the wrong moment to open his mouth.
"Hey, Kyle, did you get a good look at the bazooms on that new schoolmarm?" The man made a curving gesture outward from the front of his shirt.
Tyler had been ready to follow the Hardings out the door. It didn't take any extra effort to swing his fist upward and carry the loudmouth from the floor with a blow under the chin. As the man s
lithered down the bar, Tyler looked regretfully at his bruised knuckles, shrugged, and donned his Stetson. He really had his job cut out for him if he meant to defend Maryellen Evie Peyton from her admirers.
The Hardings watched him with a mixture of admiration and wariness as they left the saloon. Tyler reckoned for certain he wouldn't be hearing anything more about Evie from their mouths. That was a relief. The Harding men were both older and broader than he was.
From her window on the third floor of the hotel, Evie watched the three men walk down the dirt street in the direction of the livery. The thought that Tyler was leaving town made her ache, but it was the best thing for both of them. Playing cards and traveling on steamboats with a handsome gambler made for exciting novels, but real life had just slapped her in the face.
Turning her back on Tyler, she contemplated real life, and seeing Daniel sprawled as always on the bed, she tightened her lips in decision.
"Come on, Danny boy. We're going to find the newspaper office. Where are those articles you had printed in the Dispatch? You can show them to the editor here. He ought to be glad to have someone who can read, write, and spell to call on."
Some time later, after getting directions and telling the Hardings he would catch up to them, Tyler took the hotel stairs two at a time and walked in on Benjamin. Ben had already tired of lying about and was oiling his gun by the window when Tyler entered.
Ben threw his friend an enigmatic look. "Appears you've found some acquaintances already. You planning on heading out?"
"They've got a cattle ranch. I'm going to check out their operation. Feel well enough to come along?"
Ben gave him a look of disdain. "I don't need no redneck farmers around me, thank you. What in hell would I want with cows?"
Tyler casually twirled his hat on his hand. "They've just brought in a herd of wild mustangs they mean to tame. Thought you might be interested."
Ben started piecing the gun back together. "And what about them kids you brought out here?"
"Evie's already got a job as the new schoolteacher. I don't see anything dangerous around here that they need protecting from. I'll go tell them where to find us while you pack."
Ben grunted disapprovingly as Tyler sauntered out.
Evie answered her door, and Tyler felt the shock of her proximity as if this were his first time with a woman. She was still wearing the dark blue gown that made her eyes look warm and sultry, and his gaze drifted to the curve of her breasts. They were as beautifully proportioned as the rest of her, and he hadn't even taken the time to enjoy them. Lord, but he had been an ass.
He suddenly realized that they weren't alone. Giggles issued from the room behind her, and he looked over Evie's shoulder to a pair of young girls in short skirts and loose hair streaming down their backs. He silently cursed and returned his gaze to Evie, who smiled mockingly.
At his questioning glance, she replied, "Philly and Delphia, the daughters of Mr. Averill, the newspaper editor. They will be two of my students."
"I suppose I could make a wild stab at where Mr. Averill hails from." Tyler remained in the hallway, though Evie had stepped aside to allow him in.
"Wouldn't you like to meet them?"
Tyler took a step backward, as if she had just offered to introduce him to the devil. "Not particularly. I came to tell you I'll be staying out at the Harding ranch for a while, in case you need anything." His gaze drifted past the giggling girls to an easel by the window. The canvas was turned so he couldn't see the picture. He had the urge to walk in, make himself at home, and examine it, but their audience made him nervous. He didn't know Evie painted.
She watched him with puzzlement. "Don't you like children, Mr. Monteigne?"
"I wouldn't know. I've never had any. Well, if you don't need me for anything, I'll be off then."
Feeling like a fly escaping a sticky ointment, Tyler made a sketchy bow and practically ran for the stairs. Evie's laughter chimed with the giggles of the children as she closed the door, and Tyler closed his eyes and clutched the wall for a brief moment before descending. Echoes of similar sounds rocked his memory, and he fought them off, banishing the joyful noise to the dark recesses of his mind where it belonged.
Summoning his usual demeanor, he clattered down the wooden stairs to find Daniel limping through the doorway, a smile wider than the horizon on his face. At sight of Tyler, his eyes lit.
"I've got a job! Mr. Averill said I could start out proofreading his work and learn typesetting when things were slow. I'll be learning all about the newspaper business. Have you ever seen printing presses? They're..."
Tyler interrupted the monologue with a wave of his hand. Remembering the giggling girls in Evie's room, he asked wryly, "Does she always get her way?"
Daniel didn't have to think twice to know what he was talking about. He grinned. "Usually."
"Thanks for the warning." Holding out his hand, he offered, "Congratulations on your new job. I just told Evie that Ben and I are heading out for the Harding ranch for a while. If you should need anything, you just send someone out there."
The smile disappeared from Daniel's face as he shook Tyler's hand. "Are you going to stay around awhile? It could be weeks before that lawyer comes back." He stopped, as if realizing he had said too much.
Tyler pretended not to notice. "I'm not making any promises. The Hardings seem to be influential men around here. Should I be trying to find out anything from them?"
Daniel hesitated. Making a decision, he answered, "We can't do anything until Mr. Hale returns. He's on some business trip, and no one seems to know for certain when he'll be back."
Tyler nodded knowledgeably. "I'll see what I can find out about Mr. Hale. Look after your sister and keep in touch."
Daniel watched as the gambler walked off. This adventure had remained exciting while Tyler Monteigne stayed with them. Now that they were on their own, he felt the first stirring of doubt and worry. He knew Evie better than anyone. She was beautiful and charming and had a way of twisting people around her little finger. She was also running as scared as he was. Daniel could understand why people didn't see that right off, but he'd thought Tyler was a little more perceptive. Maybe he was, and he just didn't want the responsibility of looking after two young people old enough to take care of themselves.
That meant they were really on their own. Squaring his shoulders, Daniel began the painful maneuver of ascending the stairs.
* * *
At almost this same time, Jonathan Hale, the lawyer, was standing before the unobtrusive St. Louis brick town house of one Delilah "Nanny" Witherspoon. Large shade trees up and down the street indicated the length of time this neighborhood had been established. The substantial homes, well-kept yards, and the scattering of carriage houses in the rear gave indication of the quiet wealth of the area. It was not precisely the kind of area Hale had expected to find a former mistress and her illegitimate child living in.
Revising that theory but not having a new one to put in its place, Hale attempted the discreet door knocker one more time. He had been here three days in a row at various times and had never caught anyone at home. There should at least be servants, he thought. But as in the previous days, no one answered the summons.
Much as he disliked the idea, he would have to start making inquiries. Glancing at the substantial home next door, he straightened his frock coat and set out in that direction. Someone, somewhere, had to know where to find Delilah Witherspoon. And he hoped that Mrs. Witherspoon would swiftly lead him to one Evangeline Peyton Howell. The Hardings were generously financing this expedition to St. Louis, but Hale had his own interest in the matter.
With eagerness, he pounded on the massive knocker of the house next door.
* * *
On the other side of the country, in a boardinghouse in San Francisco, a dark-haired gentleman contemplated a portrait hanging near the woodstove that heated the room. At one time the portrait had hung over a massive marble fireplace in the parlor downstai
rs, but the house had seen better days, and so had he.
His gaze returned to the crudely scratched letter in his hand. Angelina had always been a poor student, and the years spent raising that brood of children had not improved her handwriting. He had helped her when her husband was alive, when the money had been easy and plentiful. He felt a deep regret that he could do so little now that she was a widow. He felt a small rush of homesickness, but it had been a long, long time since he had been home. There had been no place for him back there. He had found a life here, but that life was almost over. Perhaps this letter meant it was time to go home.
Tears rimmed his eyes as he read the words over. He had been betrayed all those years ago, but he still couldn't help feeling the pain of the love he had carried with him ever since. Perhaps she had been right to betray him. Look at where he was now.
His fingers trembled as he read about the carriage accident that had sent his beloved into a river that wouldn't be considered a puddle anywhere else in the world. What kind of incompetent fool was her husband to allow the accident to happen? The man deserved to die, and he was glad to know he'd received his fitting punishment.
But she was still alive. She was ill and injured, but alive. Was it a sign? Was there some promise in it for him? Could he dare let himself hope after all these years?
He was being foolish. He was over forty and had spent nearly half his life out here. He had earned a certain amount of respect in this town. His talent had faded with his eyesight, but he lived comfortably enough. People accepted him for what he was here. He didn't have to endure the insults, the cold stares, the hatred that his ancestry earned back in Texas. Why should he ever return?
Because she was alive and her husband was dead. Because he had promised to return. Because he wanted to see her again, if only just one more time before he died. The longing was too strong to be denied. He had to see her.
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