“Hello, little cousin. Told ya I’d come out to see this grand place Uncle Yarby left ya.”
Tears flooded her eyes, and she hugged him as if she would never let him go.
“How did you know where to find me?”
“Well, now, I figured you’d be at the Larkspur. It was a stroke of luck to meet Gilly. Now don’t ya be bawlin’,” he said gruffly.
“I’ve so much to tell you—”
“I already heard some of it from Gilly.”
“How did you get here? Where did you meet him? What all has he told you?”
“Wait, wait a minute!” Gustaf laughed. “My backside is numb from ridin’ on that wagonseat and my ears are tired from listenin’ to Gilly. He said you wanted a cow. This one is ’bout as sorry a cow as I’ve ever seen. She’s goin’ to calf any day is why it took us part of last night and all day today to get here.”
With her arm about his waist and his about hers they went to the end of the wagon where Gilly was untying the cow. She was reddish brown with a white streak down her face, and pitifully thin except for her bulging belly.
“She’s beautiful.” Kristin patted the side of her face. “And so tired,” she added. “Don’t worry,” she crooned to the cow. “You’ll get plenty to eat if I have anything to say about it.”
“Ya’ll have all to say ’bout it,” Gilly said. “I ain’t havin’ nothin’ to do with no cow!”
Kristin laughed happily. The sound reached to where Buck stood just inside the corral. He had heard her shout and saw her fly off the porch to meet the agile blond-headed man who sprang down off the wagon to meet her. This was the cousin she was always talking about. He saw the look of happiness on her face and heard it in her voice.
A sickening feeling began to grow in the pit of his stomach. Was the good-looking man more to her than just a cousin? Cousins sometimes married. Hell, Moss had said it was done all the time in some backwater places. They had idiot children. Even knowing that, would it stop a woman from mating with a man if she loved him?
For less than a minute he contemplated getting on his horse and riding back up into the mountains. She didn’t need him now. She had her Gustaf to look after her. The moment passed. This land was his and Moss’s—hers now. The house was his. He’d worked his ass into the ground building it and, by God, he was not giving up any part of it. He jerked his saddle off the fence and carried it into the barn. She had her damn cow and from the looks of the crate in the back of the wagon a rooster and a couple of hens.
“Where ya gonna put this sorry pile a hair and bone?” Gilly, leading the cow, stuck his head in the barn door.
“In here, for now.” Buck lifted a bar from one of the two stalls and led the cow inside. “We can stake her during the day.”
“We?” Gilly said irritably.
“Where did you run onto . . . him?”
“At Ryerson’s. Ryerson’s boys came in—riding the rails. He was with them. They hopped off the train and came cross-country.”
“Ryerson going to stay?”
“Him and his boys is goin’ to stick it for a spell. The boys took his woman and the girls to his brother’s in Billings. Most a his stock’s been run off.”
“Hell of a note, isn’t it?” Buck filled a bucket of water from a barrel and set it in the stall with the cow.
“Yeah. But he’s a tough old coot. He kept one cow. Sold me this’n and the chicks for six dollars. Hell, the meat’d brin’ that much in town.”
“See anything of Forsythe’s men?”
“Naw. Met up with Glazer. He asked how Miss Anderson was doin’. Said he hoped ya wasn’t put out cause he brought her here. Cletus Fuller asked him to do it. Said he heard the old man was killed right after. Somebody beat him plumb to death.”
“Son of a bitch!” Buck exclaimed angrily, then bowed his head for a moment. “Do they know who did it?”
“They know, but ain’t nothin’ been done ’bout it. Takes some kind a man to beat up a crippled-up old man who couldn’t walk but with a cane.”
Buck stared off toward the mountains. Knowing of his fondness for Cletus Fuller, Gilly was quiet for a moment before he spoke again.
“Glazer’s goin’ to start freightin’ outta Dumas Station,” Gilly said. “It ain’t but a wide spot in the road, but he ain’t wantin’ to go to Big Timber what with all the ragshags driftin’ in. He’s had to hire more fellers to ride shotgun. What ya want me to do with the chickens?”
“Turn ’em loose. I’ll spread some feed. They’ll not go far.”
“Ya betcha they won’t. Sam’ll have ’em before their feet hit the ground.”
“I’d forgotten about Sam. Leave them in the coop till morning.”
“Ya’ve stalled long enough. Ya better get on out and say howdy to the cousin.”
Buck frowned at Gilly. “Who’s stallin’? He’s got a right to come visit Kristin.”
“Visit? Horse-hockey! He be here to stay. ’Sides, it ain’t her place nohow.”
“Drop it, Gilly.”
“Why was ya lookin’ daggers at him, if’n he’s got so much right?”
“What the hell you goin’ on about?” Buck snarled.
“He ain’t a bad feller, as Swedes go. Good talker. Tells some tall tales ’bout far-off places. He’s been all up and down the big river. Clear down to the ocean. Got a real fondness for Kris. That’s what he calls her. Kris.”
“Hell,” Buck said with disgust. “I need another tenderfoot to look after like I need my guts strung from here to Bozeman.”
“Ya didn’t ’pear to mind lookin’ after . . . her.”
“Mind your own business.”
Buck strode out of the barn as if he was going to do battle. Kristin and Gustaf were standing by the porch. She was clinging to his hand. Buck ground his teeth in frustation.
“Buck,” she called. “Come meet Gustaf. He’s the cousin I’ve been telling you about. I was telling him that if he’d gotten here a few days ago, he would have met Uncle Yarby.”
Gustaf stepped forward and held out his hand.
“Howdy. After what Gilly said about you and from what Kris has been sayin’, I expected ya to be somethin’ more than a mortal man.”
Buck accepted the firm handshake.
“Gilly’s been known to stretch things a bit. And as for Miss Anderson, she don’t know me none a’tall.” Buck’s eyes, mere slits of green between his dark lashes, flicked from Kristin and away.
“If I’d a known what was going on here, I’d never have let her come out here alone.”
“Even without Forsythe, this is hard country. Some men would kill for a woman like her. It was foolish of her to come here, foolish of her menfolk to let her. She was lucky to have met some decent folks in town that helped her. It may have cost one of them his life.”
“Thank God things turned out all right.”
“Not yet they haven’t.”
“What . . . do you mean? Who has lost his life?”
“Cletus Fuller.”
“Oh, no!” Kristin’s hands flew to her cheeks. “Oh, merciful heavens! Do you think . . . it was because of me?”
“Who knows?” Buck saw the distress on her face and wished he hadn’t mentioned Cletus. “Someone might have thought he had money.”
“Gilly filled me in a bit,” Gustaf said, throwing his arm across Kristin’s shoulders to comfort her. “The Andersons owe ya debt for what ya’ve done for Uncle Yarby and now our Kristin.”
“Forget it! The Andersons don’t owe me a gawddamn thing,” Buck spoke with a voice as hard as iron.
“I never dreamed Gilly was going to get a cow,” Kristin exclaimed hurriedly. “And chickens. Oh, I’ve missed hearing a rooster crow.”
Gustaf’s sharp eyes were going from his cousin’s flushed face to the face of the big dark-haired man who stood with his feet planted firmly on the ground and his thumbs hooked in his belt. Both of them were edgy. Neither one looked directly at the other. He knew his cousin well enoug
h to know that it wasn’t fear of the man that was causing her anxiety. That, at least, eased his mind.
“He won’t do much crowing if Sam gets him,” Buck commented dryly and turned to look at the shaggy dog lying on the ground, his eyes on the chicken coop.
A little cry of distress came from Kristin. “He would eat them?”
“He hunts for his food,” Buck said crossly. “He can’t be blamed if he takes what’s handy.”
“I understand that but—”
“Keep them penned. I’ll explain matters to him in the morning. Make yourself to home,” he said to Gustaf. “I’ve things to do.”
“I’ll lend a hand.” Gustaf stepped off the porch.
“No. Visit with your cousin.”
“Supper will be ready in a little while.” Kristin’s voice seemed to have shrunk.
Buck nodded. He walked away, grinding his teeth in frustration.
“This is Buck’s house,” he heard Kristin say and automatically slowed his steps. “He built it all himself. He’s been kind enough to let me stay here because Uncle Yarby’s house is not in very good—”
Her voice was lost to him when she and her cousin went into the house.
Chapter Eighteen
Kristin took pride in showing Buck’s house to her cousin, a fact that was not lost of Gustaf.
“He built it himself. Uncle Yarby may have helped him some. He said he learned about carpentry from Uncle Yarby. Did you notice how tight the logs were on the outside? No chinking in this log house. Buck said that the logs were smoothed with a broadax and laid face-to-face. The boards on the floors are two inches thick.” She flipped up the table covering. “He made this table, the wash bench and the—” Her voice faded when she glanced at her cousin’s grinning face.
“Does he put the moon to bed at night and get up ever’ mornin’ and hand out the sun?”
“Oh, Gustaf!” A beet red blush rushed up her neck to flood her cheeks. “Stop teasing!”
“Ya don’t have to sell him to me, love. Gilly already done that.”
“I wish you could have seen how he was with Uncle Yarby.” A wistful look came over her face. “He was so gentle with him. He hid him away when the posse came to hang him and has been taking care of him all this time—”
“Gilly told me. And he told me he thought the man was sweet on ya—said he’d taken to shavin’ ever’ two or three days and was mindin’ his manners.”
“Forevermore! Gilly talks to hear his head rattle. He passes the time with flummadiddles. I learned right away that he says things without giving any thought to them.”
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Have ya fallen in love with him?”
“Good grief!” Kristin plunked the teakettle down on the stove with such force it made a clanging sound. “What a thing to say. I’ve only known the man a few weeks. He’s been very . . . kind to me, just as he was to Uncle Yarby.”
“I don’t like ya bein’ in the middle of all this, Kris. I ain’t forgettin’ that I went against Ferd and helped ya get here. Now, if somethin’ happens—”
“Nothing’s going to happen. Buck will take care of things. I’m here, and there doesn’t seem to be much we can do about it at the moment.”
“From what Ryerson told me, Buck will have his hands full holding on to this place. I think ya should leave until it’s settled. Ryerson sent his wife to Billings—”
“—That’s fine for Mrs. Ryerson,” Kristin interrupted. “I understand she has small children. I’m not going anywhere unless Buck asks me to leave his house. And if he does, I’ll go through the woods there”—she flung her hand toward the grove—“and live in the house Uncle Yarby left me.”
“If somethin’ happened to ya, love, it’d kill me.”
The door opened and Buck stepped into the kitchen with an armload of stove wood. Gustaf’s arm lay across Kristin’s shoulders, his fingers were beneath her chin. Buck paused and looked from one to the other, but didn’t speak until he’d put the wood in the box. He felt almost sick to his stomach.
“Do you need anything from the smokehouse?”
“Not for supper, but I’ll need some of that side meat for breakfast.”
“I’ll get it in the morning.”
Buck picked up the waterbucket and went out. He was perfectly miserable. If somethin’ happened to ya, love, it’d kill me. It looked like the cousin was about to kiss her. The man had deep feelings for her and she for him. It couldn’t be any plainer than that. The knowledge was so painful that it lay like a rock in his tired heart.
Kristin and her cousin loved each other. How could he have been so stupid, even for that short time, to think a rough bastard like him had a chance with a woman like her? A man wouldn’t come all the way from Wisconsin unless he loved her. Damn it to hell! No one could take better care of her in this country than he could.
Coming back across the yard from the well he met Gilly.
“Ryerson said there’s a gang hangin’ out at that old Skelton place up in Creek Canyon.”
“Has he had trouble with them?”
“Not yet. He’s thinkin’ they be gatherin’ to ride in on us and him to take over when Forsythe gives the word.”
“How many?”
“Dozen or two. Says they come and go.”
“Wish there was some way I could get Kristin out of here.”
“She . . . et! Where’d she go? If she went to Billings, he’d track her down and make her sell or do away with her. Same if she went to Bozeman. To my way a thinkin’ old Cletus was right. She’s better off here . . . less’n she wants to sell the Larkspur to the mangy polecat.”
“She doesn’t want to sell. She’s made that clear. If she did, I’d buy it if there was a way I could raise the money with half my stock run off.”
“If ya wed up with her, ya’d have it all, an’ ya wouldn’t have to buy it.”
Buck turned so fast that water sloshed out of the bucket. Gilly jumped back.
“I’m not weddin’ any woman to get what she’s got or to keep what I’ve worked for.”
“Ya don’t have to get yore back up ’bout it.”
Buck stepped up onto the porch and flung open the door. Kristin turned from the stove to look at him and wondered what had happened to make him so angry.
* * *
Buck and Gilly left the house as soon as they finished supper. Kristin was disappointed. Buck had not said much during the meal. Thank goodness for Gilly’s curiosity. He had asked Gustaf question after question about Wisconsin and his travels on the Mississippi River. She had hoped that Buck and Gustaf would like each other. She didn’t know of anyone except Ferd who didn’t like Gustaf.
“Is Lenning always so down in the mouth? He’s not at all as Gilly described him.” Gustaf carried the plates from the table to the work counter.
“He’s got a lot on his mind.”
“I’ll make it clear to him that I’m not here to mooch a living. I’d make a poor cowboy, but I’m a damn good woodchopper.”
“I feel like I’m pushing Buck out of his house,” Kristin said sadly.
“When I mentioned fixing up Yarby’s old place and staying there, he looked at me as if he’d like to run me through with a saber.”
“You’ve not seen Uncle Yarby’s place. It would take more than a little fixing up. Besides, Buck said there was plenty of room in the bunkhouse.”
“I got that part. I think he feared I expected to stay in here with you.”
“Land sakes, Gustaf! Your imagination is running wild.”
When the cleanup was done, she and Gustaf moved to the parlor end of the kitchen. Kristin threw her shawl around her shoulders before she sat down in one of the big chairs. Away from the cookstove the room was cool. This time of year nights were cold, but not cold enough to light the fireplace. She looked around the cozy room and thought about Buck sitting in the dreary bunkhouse. This was his home. This is where he should be.
Sud
denly he was.
The door was flung open and he bounded into the room. Kristin jumped to her feet.
“Put out the light!”
He grabbed his coat from the peg beside the door and threw it around Kristin’s shoulders just as Gustaf turned down the lamp wick throwing the room into total darkness.
“What’s hap . . . pening?” Kristin stammered.
“Someone’s coming.” Buck hustled her out the door.
“Where are we going?”
“You’re going to that room I built for Moss. Stay there till I come for you.”
“But . . . I didn’t get my . . . pistol—”
“You don’t need the damn pistol.” With his hand firmly attached to her elbow, he urged her into a run across the yard. At the door to the room he pushed her inside. “Do as I say. Stay here.”
“What shall I do, Lenning?” Gustaf asked.
Buck shoved a rifle into his hands.
“Can you shoot?”
“Damn right.”
“Get over there by the woodpile. If anyone comes to this door beside me or Gilly, shoot him.”
Gustaf disappeared in the darkness.
“Buck . . . ? Who’s coming?”
“I don’t know. I got the signal from Bowlegs. It could be someone coming to burn us out. If so, I don’t want you in the house. That’s the first place they’d torch.”
“Burn . . . our house!” Kristin wailed.
“Shut the door and drop the bar on the inside. There’s an escape door in the back. If I come for you, it will be from the back.”
“Be careful—”
Inside the dark room, Kristin held the door open a crack so that she could look out. All she could see was the shape of the house that she had come to think of as almost her own.
Dear God in heaven, please don’t let them burn Buck’s house.
Buck positioned himself on one side of the house and Gilly on the other so that anyone approaching would be in the cross fire. Bowlegs and two of his drovers were out there somewhere. The others had been sent to protect their women and children and hustle them off into the mountains if it came to a fight. He wished that he’d had time to get Kristin to a safer place.
Larkspur Page 22
