The cards Powell gave him were worthless. He could discard the entire hand and not lose by it. Not giving any sign that he'd heard a word Peyton said, Tyler shoved a stack of greenbacks into the center of the table. "No more vouchers, Dorset. Put up the Ridge or you're out."
"You can't do this." Dorset looked to the sheriff for confirmation.
The sheriff glanced over his own hand. "I've got a family at home, boy. I'm ready to get out of here. Put up the cash or the collateral." He glanced up at Tom. "That goes for you, too."
The sheriff obviously had a good hand. Another time, Tyler would have been amused. As it was, he didn't care what happened. Hang the Ridge. Hang Dorset and the sheriff and the livery. He wanted out of here.
Without discarding, Tyler matched the bets and called their hands. Glaring at him, Dorset threw in the heavy packet of papers in his coat pocket. With the livery deed already in the pot, Tom folded and sat back to wait the outcome. The sheriff reluctantly parted with a stack of coins and paper and added it to the collection. He wasn't much of a gambling man, Tyler recognized. Whatever cards Powell held, he wouldn't play deep.
Pushing his opponents to the edge, Tyler threw out another stack of coins and raised the ante once again.
Roaring, Dorset predictably came to his feet and went for his gun. 'You're bluffing, you bastard! You can't win every time. Show the damned cards."
Hands grabbed him from behind, removing the gun while Dorset struggled. Tyler merely sat back, tipped his hat back on his head, and waited.
"That's the way the game's played, Dorset. You can't control the cards like you can a military government. Either meet the wager or fold."
"I'm going to kill you!" Dorset shouted, trying to shrug off his apprehenders.
The sheriff threw in his coins. "Meet the wager or fold, Dorset."
Dorset howled. "He's cheating! Can't you see he's cheating? I'll not let him have everything, damn you!"
The sheriff looked at his own cards and shrugged. "I never saw a cheat allow me cards like these. And if you're accusing me of cheating, I'll have you locked up until your veins bleed dust."
Tyler smiled slightly and added the rest of his winnings to the pot. "I'll see your hand, Sheriff. Or do you want to accuse me, too?"
Powell studied him. The pot in the center of the table was rich, too rich for a sheriff's salary. Tyler could read his expression like a book, knew what Powell was thinking. The amount he needed to match Tyler's call would be about as much as he had in his pocket. The sheriff had a good hand, but he was having a hard time coming to grips with a gambler who could be so lucky as to have a hand to beat all the cards on the table without even making a draw. Powell had to decide whether to call Tyler's bluff, and Tyler wasn't even breaking a sweat.
Swearing, the sheriff threw in his hand, too. The crowd around them roared as Tyler swept up his winnings. Tom swallowed another jigger of whiskey and slid under the table. Dorset had to be forcibly restrained as Tyler stood up. "Can I go now, Sheriff?" he asked pleasantly, throwing his cards facedown on the table.
The sheriff reached over and turned the cards up. A deuce, a four, a seven, and two face cards of different suits. Nothing. Cursing, he glared. "You are good, aren't you?"
"Damned good, Sheriff. And I'm keeping a lady waiting. If you'll excuse me?"
Tucking the deed to the Ridge into his coat pocket, Tyler strolled toward the door, aware that half a dozen men were following him out. He ought to have joy and triumph racing through his blood. He felt only fear. He needed to find Evie.
* * *
"Daniel, if you're not careful with that, you'll blow us all to kingdom come," Ben warned as the boy grasped the stick of dynamite in his fist and pounded on the trapdoor with his other hand. They'd sawed through their ropes. Now, they had to get past guards with guns.
"Just keep the lantern ready," Daniel whispered. "Wielding these crutches has given me a damned good throwing arm. If they don't scram, I can throw this thing right into the street. All we've got to do is duck and be ready to run."
As their yells brought the trapdoor open, Ben held up the lantern and Daniel pointed his dynamite at their captors. "Run, or I'll blow you to hell," he threatened.
Daniel had been right. The guards hadn't believed a cripple and nigger could escape. At their captors sneers, Daniel lit the fuse, flung it upward and out as far as he could, and covered his head while Ben leapt to cover the boys.
The sneering guards screamed and ran as the dynamite exploded behind bales of hay. Fire flickered instantly.
"Now you've done it," Ben murmured, reaching for the youngest and throwing him upward to safety.
They scrambled out of the tunnel and hit the floor running.
Coming out of the saloon, Tyler watched in amazement as the livery he had just won shook with a solid boom. Moments later, flames lit the night sky.
Silhouetted against the fire, dark figures dashed from the interior like rats from a sinking ship. Before he could recognize the small shapes of the boys or Daniel's awkward gait, a rumbling began in the earth beneath them.
A hissing followed the rumbling, and smoke began to leak from cracks forming in the street. Tyler recognized Ben, recognized the way the tall man threw himself beneath the overhang of the porch, carrying two small boys with him. With a swift intake of breath, Tyler ran to grab the dark shape struggling to run with a crutch, and jerked him into the protection of the overhang just as the explosion hit.
Fire leapt briefly from the stable door, then sucked inward with a great whoosh from the force of the explosion. The dusty street slowly collapsed straight down the middle.
Uncovering his head, Daniel peered out from beneath Tyler to the cave-in crumbling the clay between the livery and the bank.
"Damn, but I should have known that's where it went!"
Tyler gave the boy an incredulous look, stood up, and shaking his head at the wonders of nature, began running to the little house standing untouched behind the partially demolished livery.
Chapter 38
A coyote howled in the distance, and though the night was warm, Evie shivered and wrapped her mantle around her.
"How soon until we be there?" Nervous, she turned to the man driving the horse at an unseemly pace.
"The Harding ranch covers thousands of acres. And they're surrounded by thousands more of government land. I've been telling them they need to buy that land, but they laugh. There's so much land out here, nobody needs to buy it. But the day is coming when they'll regret it."
That wasn't what she had asked. Evie stared out over the flat prairie. An occasional shrub tree silhouetted against the night sky was the only landmark she could distinguish. She hadn't seen any sign of human habitation for what seemed like miles.
"I don't see how Dorset can have us arrested all the way out here." This was musing aloud more than an attempt to strike up a discussion. Hale hadn't spent much time listening to her.
"You fell into bad company with Tyler Monteigne. I warned you of that earlier. I'll explain it to the judge, and everything will be all right."
He kept telling her that, as if saying the words was a magic incantation that would indeed make everything all right. Evie had some confidence in the power of words, but action usually worked better. She didn't like being separated from friends and family. She wanted to go home.
"I think we ought to go back, Mr. Hale. I don't feel right leaving Tyler to face the judge alone. And I'm worried about the boys. I just don't like running away. It doesn't solve anything. I've made a mistake. Won't you turn around and take me home?"
A muffled explosion in the distance rumbled the ground and made the horse edgy. Evie threw a worried look around the carriage hood but could see nothing untoward.
Hale bit his lip and concentrated on keeping his control over the horse.
She could jump. The carriage had a roof and sides, but it was open in front and had only a low-slung door. But they were moving so fast she feared she would break he
r leg. And they were so far out in the middle of nowhere, that she wasn't sure she could find her way back. Besides, there was nowhere to hide. And no reason to hide that she knew of, yet.
"Mr. Hale." His silence induced a measure of panic. "We have to go back. Something dreadful is happening. I know it."
A log and frame cabin loomed on the horizon. With the horse under control again, Hale increased the pace. "Miss Howell, I've always had your best interests in mind. We'll be there shortly. Just be patient."
"Why do you keep addressing me as Miss Howell?" Nervously, Evie twisted at her fingers. She wished she had found her gloves before leaving.
Hale gave her an impatient glance. "Because your marriage to Monteigne is not legal. I told you that."
"Everyone else calls me Mrs. Peyton." Now that she had actually produced a response from him, Evie pushed for more.
"Everyone else doesn't know who you are, but I do," Hale replied impatiently. "I don't know why you insist on this charade, but there's no further point in it. It doesn't matter who your father is, but your mother was Elizabeth Howell Harding. That's a matter of some importance in this town."
"She's dead, but my father's not. That's a matter of some importance to me. I want to go home."
The carriage hit a deep rut in the road and creaked ominously. Hale slowed the horse just outside the cabin.
"I'd better check the wheel. I wouldn't want to be stranded out here."
Evie glanced nervously at the house. There weren't any lights. She was certain it was abandoned.
Hale climbed down and inspected the wheels, making clicking noises with his tongue as he did so. She didn't like the sound of that. She liked it even less when he came around to her side and held out his hand to help her down.
"The axle is almost gone. We'd better stop here where there's shelter. It's perfectly safe, I assure you. No one will find you here."
Evie crossed her hands in her lap and stayed where she was. "I'm not going in that house with you, Mr. Hale. It isn't proper. I'll sit right here, if you please."
That didn't seem to annoy him. He merely began unfastening his horse from the carriage. "You're quite correct. It isn't proper. I'll see to it that the situation is remedied when they find us. You must believe me, Miss Howell, I truly have your best interests in mind."
He was beginning to sound like a parrot. Seriously annoyed as well as increasingly frightened, Evie glared down at him. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Hale, but I don't feel the least bit safe. There could be rattlesnakes and wild Indians out here. Surely we can't be much farther from the Harding place. Perhaps we could walk the distance?"
"I assure you, we cannot. It would no doubt be dawn before we reached the ranch by walking, and your reputation would be ruined."
"I don't give a darn about my reputation, Mr. Hale it's my life I'm worried about. What do I know about surviving out here?" Irritated, Evie climbed down from the carriage herself. For good measure, she checked the axle, but she couldn't tell a thing in the dark.
"There will be a lantern and water and food in there, Miss Howell. We only need wait until someone discovers us." He held out his hand to lead her into the house.
There wasn't much else she could do. If she knew how to ride, she'd steal the horse. The cabin seemed less frightening than that alternative. Ignoring his out-stretched hand, Evie lifted her skirt from the dust and started toward the house.
It was far superior to the shack that Tyler had taken her to. When Hale located the lantern and lit it, she could see that it had several rooms and real pieces of furniture. The dust had been disturbed, as if someone had been there lately. The furniture was of heavy Spanish origin, and Evie ran her finger wonderingly over the old ebony table. She had seen nothing like it in Texas. Actually, she had seen nothing like it anywhere. The French influence in St. Louis had been stronger than the Spanish.
The massive bed in the first room was of the same heavy quality. The mattress on it didn't look as if it fit, and she couldn't help but look at it warily. A mattress left abandoned for any length of time would become the home for rodents, but this one seemed relatively intact.
"As you can see, the accommodations are crude, but comfortable. You will be perfectly safe here, Miss Howell." Hale held the lantern up so she could examine the evidence of his words.
She didn't like it. She didn't like it at all. The place looked abandoned; the layers of dust were proof of that. But why was the mattress intact? She turned to examine the shelves in the main room that would have served as parlor and kitchen. As Hale had said, there were assorted boxes and bags and cans there, a veritable larder. Why?
"I won't stay, Mr. Hale. I will take my chances with the prairie." Even as she said it, she knew she couldn't. Another coyote was howling somewhere outside, and she was well aware of the snakes and other creatures inhabiting this vast land. She had read enough of Daniel's Westerns to know all the dangers.
"That would be extremely foolish. You are a wealthy young woman, and it would be a sin to throw yourself away on unreasonable fears. You must learn to rely on me. I will take care of you." So saying, Hale set the lantern on the table and took a flame to the tinder in the fireplace. "I'm sure we won't need the heat, but sometimes a nice fire provides company."
Evie didn't like the way he said that. She didn't like anything at all about this situation. Giving the lawyer's back a contemplative look as he bent over the fire, she swung on her heel and headed for the bedroom. She wasn't a fool, but she liked her creatures comfort, and she didn't like Hale. She slammed the bedroom door and snapped a bar closed behind it.
Hale looked up, but his expression was one of smug satisfaction, not disappointment.
* * *
Tyler tied his horse behind the lawyer's office and ran up the back stairs. Knowing the kids were safe was a relief, but he didn't trust that damned lawyer one bit. As before, Hale's door was unlocked. He didn't need a light to know where to look. Picking up the blotter, he grabbed the file, bending it and shoving it into his coat pocket. Then he gathered up the clutter on the top of the desk and took it to the window to see if any of it pertained to Evie.
He could barely discern the handwriting in the dim light. The scribbles looked meaningless, but he shoved them in his pocket anyway. Judging by his previous explorations, Hale kept all his current notes on hand. If he were innocent, he'd have every right to scream bloody murder at this ransacking, but Tyler didn't think Hale was that innocent. Hale would have to keep his mouth shut if any of the documents were incriminating.
He knew the one horse thief who had been up here the day of the shooting was still a patient at the doctor's office. The other man Tyler suspected of being here was over at the saloon drowning his sorrows. Those were the only two men he could associate with the lawyer. He would begin with them.
By the time Tyler spurred his horse out of town, dawn was breaking. A long night of questioning had given him the information he sought, but he didn't like the answers. He hadn't felt this terrified in years. He'd never wanted to feel like this again. But his heart was pounding in a frantic rhythm to accompany his fears, and he pushed his horse at an unmerciful pace.
It was different this time, he told himself. He was a man now and not a scared little boy. There wasn't a war on. He just had to battle a greedy lawyer. But that wasn't the real problem, and Tyler knew it.
The real problem was Evie. The farther he rode, the more that fact ground into his soul. He didn't want to lose Evie. These last two weeks had been like being back in that Yankee prison camp again, a mindless blur of nothingness with no hope on the other side. Tyler thought he'd killed all emotion in that camp, but it certainly wasn't reasoning logic pumping through him now. It was terror and longing for Evie.
He repeated familiar refrains. He refused to be reduced to a lump of quivering pudding for a woman. It wasn't worth it. She had as much as told him that she didn't need him any more. She had sent him away. She had not once come looking for him since he'd left. She'd
had those damned papers served on him. And now she was out riding the countryside with that damned lawyer. She wasn't worth the effort.
But the old, tattered refrains no longer reassured. Tyler spurred his horse faster. Pictures of Evie flashed through his mind: Evie smiling and laughing with a room full of crude men as she calmly cheated the cheater; Evie standing on a riverboat with sunlight sparkling off her hair; Evie behind a line of children singing, a light of welcome in her eyes; Evie, naked and rosy and wrapped in his arms in the middle of the day.
The last image defeated him. She had come to him that day. She had given herself to him without reservation, without expectation of anything but to comfort his grief and guilt. He would be a long time finding another woman like that.
And so as he galloped his horse across the miles, Tyler allowed the knowledge of Evie to slowly sink into his bones and become part of him. Wherever he went, whatever he did next, Evie would be with him. It was a terrifying thought, but he was man enough to handle it now.
* * *
Unfolding from the uncomfortable chair in the cabin's front room, Hale stretched his aching back and looked out on a rosy dawn. He had just spent his first night with a woman. It wasn't as he had hoped it would be, but he had learned to be practical a long time ago. He could have bought a night of Starr's time anytime he wanted, but he liked to keep his money for better uses.
Perhaps he hadn't actually slept in the same bed with Evangeline Howell, but the effect would be the same for all intents and purposes. In a few hours, he would have the right to sleep with her every night of his life. He would appreciate some gratitude from her for saving her not only from that degenerate gambler but from the stain this night would leave on her reputation. However, he never got his hopes up, particularly where women were concerned. Perhaps Tom was right, and he should have forced her, but he just wasn't that kind of man.
He had expected Tom and his boys to be here by now with the preacher. Glancing at the horizon where no sign of rescue approached, Hale crept to the bedroom door. He hadn't heard a sound from there all night: no crying or bewailing her fate, just silence. He knocked.
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