by Lyn Horner
An angry crease formed above the bridge of Tye’s nose. “I’ll thank ye to stop applying nasty terms to the word Irishman every time ye get your dander up. I’ve swallowed enough such insults without hearing them from you. Why does my being Irish annoy ye so, anyway?”
A lifetime of learned hatred welled up inside Lil. Narrowing her eyes, she planted her hands on the table, leaned forward and gritted above the storm’s din, “Because my mother was raped and taken captive by a no-good, heartless dog of an Irishman when she was no more than a child.”
“Jaysus!” Tye stared at her in shock. “I’m sorry, colleen, I had no idea. How did it happen?” he asked, then quickly shook his head. “Nay, I’ve no business asking.”
Lil’s fury slowly drained away. She sagged back in her chair and began to pleat the linen napkin in her lap. “It doesn’t matter if you know. Only don’t ever let on to Pa that I told you.”
Staring at the napkin, she quietly explained, “The Irishman captured Ma during a raid on her village up in Indian Territory. She and her mother returned there after my grandfather died. He was a French fur trapper. Ma was just a little thing when he tangled with a grizzly and ended up dead.
“She was twelve when the Irishman took her. He and his drunken bunch left my grandmother and most of her kin dead. After that the bastard treated Ma like a slave, beat her and . . . used her. When he got himself killed in a knife fight a year or so later, she was only sorry it wasn’t her that slit his gullet, she once told me.”
Lil shrugged. “He left her with my brother to raise, but she loved Toby something fierce. Always said she was glad the Irishman didn’t have a chance to turn him bad. Then she met my pa, and he loved Toby like he was his own son. Never treated him any different than me.”
Thinking she’d said too much, Lil chanced a look at Tye and found him watching her with a troubled frown on his face.
“No wonder your mother looked at me as if I were Satan himself. Not only am I Jessie’s brother and a northerner, but I’m Irish. And she hates anyone of Irish blood, am I right? So do you, I suppose.”
She gazed into his searching eyes and gave him an honest reply. “I used to think I did.”
“And now ye don’t?” he asked guardedly.
“Oh, I still hate the man who did that to Ma.” A smile forced its way to her lips. “But I’ve sort of decided you can’t blame every polecat in the woods if one goes rabid.”
Laughter exploded from deep in Tye’s chest, shaking his shoulders. “This polecat is pleased to hear that,” he gasped between waves of mirth.
Lil laughed with him, ignoring the stares they received. Her mood lightened and she found she had an appetite after all.
While they finished their meal, the thunderstorm reached a towering crescendo. Voice raised above the furor, Tye recounted some of his mining adventures, and Lil forgot to worry about her father possibly catching them together. Only once did their conversation turn serious again – when she asked Tye why he’d left Colorado.
He suddenly grew dead sober. Staring at his clenched fist, lying dark against the white tablecloth, he replied in a heavy tone, “I had a friend, Tom Pearce. We worked the mines together in Utah, and later in Colorado. He was killed in a cave-in a year ago. After that, I . . . needed a change.”
Lil’s throat tightened. She instinctively reached out to cover his tense fist. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.
He caught her hand and squeezed it, and for a second she glimpsed heart-wrenching pain in his eyes. Then he locked it away. Once more, he was the smiling, rakish charmer. Wanting to see more of the man behind the mask, Lil knew a moment’s regret before he distracted her. Raising her fingers to his lips, he kissed them and rubbed his thumb over the damp spot he’d created, and her whole body tingled from his touch.
“No more gloomy talk. I didn’t ask ye to dinner for that. Let me see ye smile again, colleen. For sure’n the sight would brighten the sun itself.”
Lil blushed. “I think I just heard some Irish blarney,” she retorted. Then she gave him the smile he’d requested.
He laughed softly. “There’s no blarney in the truth, love.”
* * *
Night had fallen by the time they walked out of the restaurant. The downpour had stopped, but as they paused on the boardwalk, light from the window beside them revealed a street running with mud. Knowing she had to cross that river of gumbo to reach her hotel, Lil grimaced in disgust.
“So much for dresses,” she said, starting to hike up her skirts.
Tye chuckled. Then he moved close, bent and curved an arm behind her knees. She gave a startled yelp as he swung her up in his arms.
“What are you doing? Put me down.” Pushing at his chest, she caught a flash of teeth in the darkness as she tried to twist free.
“I wouldn’t wiggle about like that, colleen, unless ye wish us both to end up sitting in the mud.” With that, he stepped off the boardwalk.
Lil gasped and clutched his neck. Hearing mud squish under his boots, she feared he’d slip. Even if he didn’t, he’d probably drop her. After all, she was no dainty little miss. Yet, as he slogged his way across the street, she began to feel like she was, for his arms never so much as quivered beneath her weight.
He stood her safely on the opposite boardwalk, hands lingering at her waist for a moment while her own hands rested on his broad shoulders. She was sorry when he stepped back and turned her toward the hotel.
“Come on, I’d better get ye back before it starts pouring again,” he said, cupping her elbow. His voice sounded unnaturally gruff.
They were passing a saloon when the doors swung open and two men burst out directly in their path. Laughing and swaying, they stopped to eye Lil and Tye. One of them was Frank Howard.
Lil inhaled sharply and felt Tye’s hand tighten, pulling her to a halt.
Frank’s expression turned ugly. “Well, well, if it ain’t Miss Uppity and her carpetbaggin’ Irishman. So he’s the reason you was in such a hurry to get back to town,” he sneered. “S’pose yuh told him about this mornin’ and how you’re too good for me. Bet you’ve been whorin’ with him, though.”
Lil gasped at his filthy accusation. Before she could haul off and hit him, Tye growled, stepped forward and slugged Frank on the chin, felling him like a tree. He struck the boardwalk hard and sprawled there for a moment, clearly stunned. Then he sat up, shook his head and scraped long hair away from his face. Glaring at Tye, he snarled and sprang to his feet. He would have hurled himself at Tye if his companion hadn’t grabbed his arm.
“No, Frank,” the man said. “Remember what your pa said he’d do if you get in any more scrapes here in town. He’ll let that fool marshal lock you up and throw away the key.”
“Get your hands off me!” Frank roared, trying to break free. “I ain’t gonna let this bastard get away with sucker punchin’ me.”
Tye laughed and made a come hither motion with his hands. “Come on, Howard. I’ve got some more for ye,” he taunted.
Spewing curses, Frank tried again to shake off his friend, but the man hung on doggedly. “Dang it, Frank, yuh wanta spend the summer in jail? You’ll miss all the fun up in Wichita.”
Frank still looked like he wanted to tear Tye apart, but he quit trying to lunge at him. “All right, dammit, turn loose!”
The cowboy complied, nudging him toward the hitching rail and their horses. “Let’s go. We gotta get up early and move those cattle.”
Knocking the man’s hand aside, Frank snatched up his hat and clapped it back on. “I’m hitting the trail north with my pa’s herd real soon, Paddy-boy. Sooner or later I’ll catch up with you,” he threatened, following his friend into the sloppy street.
“Sure now, and I’ll be looking forward to it,” Tye retorted.
Afraid this could still end in gunplay, Lil latched onto his rigid right arm. “Come on, I want to get back.”
“Yeah, jump to her tune, Irishman,” Frank jeered as he mounted up.
&nbs
p; Tye made a move toward him, but Lil stepped in front of him. “No more trouble,” she whispered in desperation, hands splayed across his chest. “If my father finds out, he’ll make you leave the drive.”
His sudden, piercing look made her realize what she’d just admitted. She didn’t want him to leave; now he knew that. Her face grew warm. Seeing a satisfied smile spread across his lips, she shyly lowered her eyes. At least she’d made him forget Frank Howard, she thought as Tye tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and led her onward to the Transcontinental.
The lobby smelled strongly of cigars. Cattlemen and cattle buyers stood around talking business. Quite a few herds were bought and sold here in Fort Worth, before ever reaching their final destinations.
Among the crowd, Lil spotted E. M. Butler of the Missouri, Kansas and Texas Railroad. She’d met him yesterday when he tried to talk her father into taking the herd northeast to Denison, where the “Katy” had its terminus, just south of Indian Territory. Pa had listened, but he’d said no. It cost too much to ship the cattle north. It was cheaper to trail them up to the cattle towns along the Kansas Pacific or the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe routes.
Lil faced Tye awkwardly. “Thanks for dinner. I’ll, um, see you –”
“What did Howard mean about this morning?” he interrupted. “Ye told me ye had a set-to with him but it sounds as though there was more to it.”
She’d hoped he wouldn’t ask that. Deciding there was no help for it, she stared at his shirt front and explained, “Out at his pa’s ranch, he . . . cornered me by the corral and . . . and put his hands on me.”
“That bastard! I’ll kill him!” Tye pivoted toward the door, a ferocious scowl on his face.
“No!” Lil cried, grabbing his arm. “There’s no harm done. His brother, Travis, came along and stopped him.” She lifted her chin. “Besides, I can take care of myself. I woulda flattened Frank if I had to.”
Tye snorted at her boast, but she felt his taut muscles begin to relax. “He didn’t hurt ye?”
“No. I’m fine.”
He studied her face. Satisfied at last, he tucked her hand back in place under his arm. “Come along then. I’ll walk ye to your room.”
“Y-you don’t have to do that,” she protested as he led her toward the stairs.
“Lily, I’m not leaving ’til you’re safe behind a locked door.”
She didn’t argue, although she felt foolish waiting in the hall while he checked her room to make sure it was empty. She also felt absurdly pleased. He’d acted protective earlier too, when she’d worried what her father might do should he find them together.
“Lock the door and don’t open it for anyone but your father,” Tye ordered, handing back her key. “And if somebody tries to get in, scream your head off. Understand?”
Lil had to smile. “I’ve got a gun and I’m a good shot.”
“Aye, and you’re brave as brave can be, but I still don’t like leaving ye here alone. I felt, er, I could tell Howard was thinking of doing ye harm. If he were to return and come looking for ye –”
Impulsively, she pressed her fingers to his lips. “I’ll be all right. Just don’t you go hunting for him. He’s mean as a rattler, and I don’t want you . . . .” She removed her hand and dropped her gaze. “Just don’t.”
He caught her chin between thumb and forefinger and made her look up. “Lily,” he whispered, blue eyes glowing like a doorway to Heaven. His arms slipped around her, drawing her in, and a sigh escaped her as his mouth covered hers. He was gentle at first but before long his tongue was tangling with hers in a wild, mind-spinning rush that made her heart gallop. One hand cupped her bottom, pressing her against the rigid evidence of his desire. He groaned and her blood sang.
One moment they were fused together; the next he tore his lips from hers and held her away. “For the love o’ God, Lily, go inside! Howard’s insult to ye rings in my head. I’ll not prove him right.” His husky voice shook, revealing what a fragile leash he had upon himself.
Lil’s defenses lay in smoldering ruins, exactly as she had feared almost from the day they’d met. Clinging to his arms, she gazed at him, needing his kiss and the feel of his body molded to hers. Honor and duty were only words, tomorrow only a hazy possibility. Tye was warm flesh and blood, and he wanted her, Lil Crawford, the skinny tomboy who’d thought no man would ever want her.
“I almost wish you would,” she whispered, hoarse with need.
Muttering in Gaelic, he closed his eyes. When he opened them, he disengaged her hands. “Go inside, love,” he said in a gentle tone.
She nodded reluctantly and backed into her room, gaze never leaving his. More than anything, she longed to draw him inside with her.
“Lock it,” he reminded her when she started to close the door.
Only when she turned the key, did she hear him stride down the hall. She fought a desperate urge to jerk open the door and run after him.
CHAPTER TEN
Temperatures dropped through the night, bringing a chill, gray dawn. When Lil rode into camp with her father, Tye immediately knew her mood matched the weather. From the first day they’d met, her emotions had breached his mental barrier as if it didn’t exist, as they did now. Her confusion of anger, remorse and humiliation struck to the heart of him.
Alarmed, Tye started toward her as she dismounted, but she shot him a sharp glance and shook her head, stopping him in his tracks. She turned to speak to Del for a moment, then headed for a clump of scraggly trees and bushes, evidently to take care of personal needs. Before she returned, Tye was in the saddle, helping to shag the herd into motion.
Worry gnawed at him all morning. Had Frank Howard returned to terrorize Lil last night, as he’d feared the vicious lout might do? Had he hurt her? Not until their nooning did he have a chance to ask her.
Del had ridden ahead with Choctaw Jack to check grass conditions and hadn’t yet returned when the second lunch shift rolled around. Taking advantage of his absence, Tye got his plate filled and walked over to Lil. Bundled in buckskins, she stood alone, eating or pretending to. She stiffened at his approach.
“Lily, you’re very quiet,” he said. “Are ye all right? Did Howard bother ye last night after I left?”
“No,” she replied tersely, stabbing at the beans on her plate with her fork. It didn’t require any extraordinary mental ability to see she was still angry and upset, but his special sense confirmed the fact.
“What is it then? Are ye put out with me?”
“No, not you. Me!” She turned half away. “It was me who didn’t want you to go, me who behaved like a –”
“Don’t, colleen. Don’t hurl stones at yourself for only being human.”
She faced him with an unblinking stare. “But what if you hadn’t walked away? What about afterward? Would you have made an honest woman of me, Tye, or would you have vamoosed quicker than spit in the wind?”
“No! I . . . .” He stopped and stared at her, the words he’d been about to say frozen on his tongue.
Lil’s chin trembled. “That’s what I figured.”
He reached out. “Lily, I can’t –”
She slapped his hand aside. “Let be! And stay away from me. Please.” Not giving him a chance to argue, she dashed over to the wreck pan and threw in her nearly full plate.
“Hey! If’n yuh don’t like my cookin’, do it your own self,” Chic objected.
Ignoring him, Lil hurried to her horse. As she rode out, Tye cursed himself for not being able to give her the answer she’d needed to hear. All of a sudden his old doubts had reared their ugly heads, and he’d gone mute, wondering how he could ask her to give up home and family for him. What had he to offer? Nothing, no home, no future to speak of. Only a load of guilt and fear and broken dreams. No! He couldn’t, wouldn’t saddle her with such a poor excuse for a man as himself. He’d been selfish to ever think of doing that to her.
By the saints, I’ll not go near her again!
* * *
They were nearing the Texas border when Del sent Jack on a scouting trip to Red River Station, where they would cross into Indian Territory. Supper time arrived before the Indian returned.
Chic had laid camp by a grove of scraggly post oaks. He’d run out of dry firewood days ago. Tye and the others had dragged in branches to restock the cuna, a rawhide sling under the chuck wagon, but the wet wood didn’t burn well, making Chic’s job doubly hard. As a result, the cook was ‘techy as a teased snake’ in Dewey’s words.
A steady drizzle dimmed the waning light as Tye squatted next to Luis and Rusty, choking down a meal of undercooked beans and coffee. Like him, the other two bent over their plates, trying to keep the rain off their food. Luis fared best with his broad sombrero. Rusty, with his soggy hat flopping over both ears, looked like a droopy hound left to shiver in the rain, pretty much how Tye felt.
His gaze instinctively sought Lil. Perched on the trunk of a fallen tree, she huddled in her slicker, attention on her food. Nearby, her father discussed grass conditions with Neil MacClure. They broke off their conversation when Jack rode in.
“You make it to the Red all right?” Del asked as the tall Indian turned his muddy horse over to Jubal and headed for the chuck wagon.
“I did. She’s high and running fast.”
Del nodded grimly. “How many other herds did you see?”
