A man came in sight mere feet from where they hid. Nate reached out and placed the barrel of his pistol against the shooter’s temple. “Drop your gun.”
The man froze. “Hold up. I was just—”
“I said, drop the rifle.”
The gun barrel lowered. Nate reached out with his free hand and grabbed the rifle, then threw it to the ground near Rebekah. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”
Irritation formed on the man’s face, though it was difficult to see through the bushy eyebrows and scruffy beard. “Now looky here, you young pup. I was after that big buck over yon till you up and scared it off. Gimme back my gun, so’s I can chase it down. That giant will feed my brood for weeks.”
The man took a step toward his rifle. Nate pulled back the hammer, the click louder than a snapping branch. Rebekah held her breath, praying Nate didn’t get hurt. Or hurt the hunter. He looked so angry.
“Don’t move, mister. I didn’t see any deer. I think you tried to kill us.”
The man’s mouth dropped open. “No, sir. Like I said, I was after that buck.”
Nate’s face turned red. “We just came from back there. No deer would have stayed around while we wandered through those trees.”
“You don’t hear good, do ya, boy? I done said you spooked it off. I was trying to get him ’fore he disappeared completely.”
For the first time, uncertainty flashed across Nate’s face. “What’s your name?”
“Watch out!” A voice in the distance ricocheted through the air.
Both Nate and Rebekah jerked at the loud warning. Several cracking sounds ripped from the tree line. Nate pushed the man at the same time he jumped back. A tree crashed to the ground, its top branches landing on Nate’s boot tips.
Seconds later, Thomas appeared. “You all right, Nate?” He bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he gasped for air. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw you two dawdling around over here.” He shook his head and took a deep breath before standing upright again. “You done scared the liver clean out of me, son.”
The perspiration running down Thomas’s face alarmed Rebekah. She stood and rushed to his side, clutching his elbow. “You feeling all right, Thomas?”
He spun around. Hands over his heart, he gasped. “Oh goodness, Rebekah. Your daddy’s gonna have a fit when he finds out how close you came to getting squashed.”
He wrapped her in a hug, and she felt him tremble. “I’m fine, Thomas. It wasn’t close to me at all. Nate, on the other hand…” They turned toward Nate. His chalky white face unnerved her. “Nate?”
He held up his hand. “I’m good.” Nate holstered his pistol. “What about you, mister?”
But the hunter no longer stood with Nate. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen. The scoundrel had slipped away in all the uproar.
Nate turned a full circle. “Where’d he go?” He looked at Thomas. “Did you see him? Do you know who he is?”
“Not a clue. I was so concerned about you, I didn’t pay much attention.” He turned to Rebekah. “I need to get you home.”
Nate grabbed Thomas’s arm and spun him back around. “Wait a minute. Why are you out here?”
Thomas’s top lip curled. He hesitated as if he didn’t want to answer. Then he glanced at Rebekah. “I was chopping down this tree.”
Taking a moment to eye the length of the tree, Nate gazed intently at Thomas. “I won’t ask why yet, but this I have to ask. You saw us standing over here. Did you hear the gunshot?”
Thomas frowned. “What gunshot?”
Now Nate looked fit to be tied again. “You were standing not fifty yards from here, and you didn’t hear the gunshot?”
Thomas crossed his arms. Rebekah got the feeling it was so he wouldn’t take a swing at Nate. “That’s what I’m saying.”
These two men didn’t like each other much at all, but why? They hadn’t been together enough to have something go wrong between them. What had happened to create so much tension? Nate’s lips tightened and his jaw clenched. Rebekah knew she needed to keep them from coming to blows. She hooked her arm through one of Thomas’s and started walking along the fallen tree, easily one of the tallest she’d ever seen.
“You didn’t stay at the livery last night, Thomas?”
As if coming out of a trance, Thomas blinked as he walked alongside. “Ah, no, I didn’t.”
She waited, hoping he’d continue without prompting. He fell silent and only stared. Impatience crept through her like the fog that swept down the mountains to fill their town. She took a breath. “Well?”
Thomas stopped and faced her, his eyes softening. “You sounded just like my mama did when she demanded an explanation for something I done wrong.”
Fighting a grin, Rebekah decided to let that comment pass, though she could have really lit into him for comparing her to his mother. She was nowhere near that age. Some men had no tact, but then some men didn’t have much experience when it came to women and relationships. Just where did Nate fall in that matter? A glance at him let her know he still wasn’t over his grouch.
She returned her attention to Thomas and continued walking. “You didn’t sleep out in the cold night air, did you?”
He put his hand up as if taking an oath, his expression as earnest as a preacher speaking on the perils of sin. “No, Mama. I promise I didn’t. At least no more than I usually do.”
That did it. Rebekah swatted at his arm before shaking her finger at him. “I’m not anywhere near old enough to be your mama, Thomas, so you better watch your tongue.” She paused. “Or I’ll send you to your room without your supper.”
They collapsed against each other in laughter, but she hadn’t finished with him yet. “Seriously, Thomas, you slept in a warm, safe place, right?”
He grinned and nodded. “Warm and safe as they come. I give you my word.”
By that time, they’d walked far enough to see a corner of a house. A few steps later, the residence came more fully into view. A monstrous dog rose from the porch, gave a deep growl and bark, then came bounding toward them.
Rebekah wanted to scream, but extreme fear froze the cry in her throat. She stepped behind Thomas, more than willing to let him deal with the dog. But Nate had already pulled his pistol and stood with feet apart, aiming at the beast.
Thomas took a step forward and shoved his hands in front of Nate’s gun. “Whoa, hold up there.” He turned, squatted, and called, “Tiny!”
The dog skidded to a stop, looked at Thomas, then wagged its huge tail hard enough to make its entire body sway. Its mouth dropped open in a pant that looked much like a smile, reminding Rebekah of a youngster thrilled to see his daddy come home after a long day.
Thomas patted his chest. “Come ’ere, boy.”
The humongous animal bounced across the yard, swiftly closing the distance, and leapt into Thomas’s arms. The two sprawled and rolled. Thomas, laughing, got to his feet and ruffled the dog’s ears.
Recovering her senses, Rebekah clamped her mouth shut. She’d never seen such an animal. Another foot taller and the dog would be able to look Thomas in the eyes. Nate must have thought the same. Head shaking, he stepped forward to pet the dog.
But evidently Tiny hadn’t forgotten that, only moments ago, Nate had intended to shoot him. He growled low in his throat.
Nate pulled his hand back. “Tiny? Don’t tell me—he was the runt of the litter.”
Thomas chuckled. “Not from what I was told. He was the biggest; that’s why they took him. Thought he’d be good protection for the trip here.”
Nate jammed his hands into his pockets. “They could have used him as a pack mule.” He turned to Rebekah. “You could rent him out as such. Make good money.” He shook his head again. “A crosseyed cat, a mule that only goes to the left, and a monstrous dog. Are there any normal animals in Silver City?”
Rebekah couldn’t help but laugh. He certainly had a point. She rested her hand on Thomas’s arm. “So I take it by Tiny’s reaction
you slept here last night?”
“Yep.” He pointed toward the house. “Right up there on the porch. They put out a straw mattress, and Tiny nearly slept on top of me. I was warm and had the best protection in the mountains.” He scratched the dog’s ears. “Ain’t that right, boy?” Tiny immediately agreed with a lick to Thomas’s face. “Come on and meet these fine folks.”
Rebekah and Nate followed Thomas to the house. The door opened before they reached the porch. A gun barrel poked through the opening.
“You all right, Thomas, or do I need to peel some hide off of them two?”
“You can trust them, Pearl. They’re good people.” Thomas waited for the woman to show herself, then motioned to Rebekah. “This here’s Rebekah Weaver, and that’s Nathaniel Kirkland.”
The woman nodded, then took a couple steps farther onto the porch, allowing three children to join her. They all could have used a good scrubbing. Grime smeared their faces and their hair was slick with grease, but otherwise they looked healthy enough. Their eyes sparkled with curiosity, but none of the three spoke a word. Quite a contrast to Andrew, who would have been spewing questions the minute he spotted them.
“Howdy. Name’s Pearl Loomis,” the woman said, then gestured toward her children. “This is Libby, Helen, and Micah.”
By the bulge under her apron, another child was on the way. “I’m pleased to meet all of you,” Rebekah said kindly to the children. “I’ve got a little brother who’d just love to get to know you three.” She smiled.
The smiles she received back were sweeter than honeycomb. Oh, but she’d love to get her hands on these children.
“That’s quite a dog you have.” Nate reached to pet him and received another growl. He returned his hand to his pocket, probably to keep his fingers intact.
“He was,” Pearl said and jabbed her thumb toward Thomas. “Till that old man got a hold of him. Now he’s spurled.”
Nate looked confused. “Spurled?”
“Yeah. Something fierce. Used to get some work out of him, but Thomas has him rotten to the core.” “Oh, you mean spoiled,” Nate said.
Pearl’s scowl ran so deep, the crease between her brows could have held water. “That’s what I done gone and said, ain’t it?”
Nate ducked his head. “Yes, ma’am.”
Needing to hide her amusement, Rebekah suddenly found the big rock by her toe very interesting. Poor Nate. She’d never heard that word before either, but he’d been the one to take the brunt of Pearl’s disapproval.
Pearl pulled her young son against her side. “Yeah, well, I ain’t letting that old man near my young’uns, or they ain’t no telling what they’ll turn out like.”
Her words were tempered with a teasing tone, and Thomas howled with laughter as he slapped his thigh. “Too late.”
Nate bent and picked up a rock, examining it in the sunlight. He took a step and handed it to Micah, who did his best to imitate Nate’s action. Then a grin washed over his face as he tucked it in his pocket. Nate returned the smile before looking up at the boy’s mother.
“Your husband around, Mrs. Loomis?”
Pearl examined him from the corners of her eyes. “Nope. Lit out early this morning. Won’t see him again till after dark. Boss man works him too hard.” She poked her thumb toward Thomas again. “Weren’t for him, we’d likely go hungry.”
Nate nodded. “By your accent, you’re not from around these parts.”
“Nope.”
Nate and Pearl shared a stare-down. Nate licked his bottom lip, as if he were struggling with asking another question. He glanced the direction they’d come, then turned back. “Been here long?”
As if she’d been smacked with a branch from that falling tree, Rebekah suddenly realized Nate’s thoughts. He wondered if Pearl’s husband was the man who shot at them. In an instant, she also wanted to know the answers to Nate’s questions.
Pearl squinted a bit. “Depends on who you ask. Eugene thinks we haven’t been here long enough. I think we’re long past due to leave.”
The woman had a knack for avoiding proper answers. Thomas swung around in front of Nate. With the two men standing so close, their difference in height was nearly comical. If Nate were to lift his arm, Thomas would have been able to walk under it and get his almost bald head buffed by the sleeve. But the humor of the sight disappeared the moment Thomas jabbed Nate in the chest.
“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re dead wrong. Eugene’s a good man. Now you get yourself outta here ’fore I drag you out.”
Before anyone could react, a toddler waddled onto the porch, banging into each side of the door frame in the process, nearly losing his balance. Drool dangled from the fingers jammed in the small boy’s mouth as he grinned and gurgled at them. The oldest girl, Libby, scooped him up in her arms, glaring at Nate the whole time.
Nate’s gaze went from Thomas to the kids, then to Pearl. He touched the rim of his hat. “My apologies, ma’am.” The sincerity in his voice echoed the contrition on his face. “If there’s anything I can do to help, you can send word through Thomas.” He nodded to the entire group. “Good day.”
Rebekah waved at the children before racing after Nate. They were halfway back to town before she worked up the nerve to ask her question. “You think her husband is the man who shot at us?”
Nate slowed his stride. He shrugged, still looking regretful. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He shrugged again, his struggle evident. “But Mrs. Loomis had nothing to do with it either way. She’s got her hands full right there at the house. I had no right to saddle her with more problems.”
That very moment Rebekah’s estimation of Nate rose high enough to burst a hole in the sky. And her heart followed close behind.
Chapter Ten
Nate pulled the metal from the fire, placed it on the anvil, and hammered as though it deserved to die. When he first accepted the job from Perry, he thought it would be an ideal situation, a place he could meet many of the residents and ask questions. But three days had passed since the stranger took a shot at him. He’d been so busy, not a question had yet been asked as part of his investigation. Not only that, but all the men who’d come by needing work done hadn’t hung around. They stated their instructions and disappeared out the door as fast as their legs could carry them. Most returned inebriated, revealing the reason for their rush.
“Whoa there, young man. You trying to shape that metal—or kill it?”
Henry Gilmore stood an arm’s length away, eyebrows raised and a smirk on his face. If Nate didn’t like him so much, he’d have been tempted to throw the hammer at him. Mr. Gilmore put up his hands in a defensive posture, making Nate warm to him.
“So”—Mr. Gilmore took a step closer and clapped Nate on the back—“you hating your job already?”
Giving the metal one last pound, Nate shoved it back into the fire before glancing at the elderly gentleman from the corner of his eye. “You ever made a decision you regretted?”
Chuckling, Mr. Gilmore rocked back on his heels. “At one point or another, all mankind has stubbed their toe on that very rock. Some many times over from lack of thought or learning.” He dropped onto a nearby bench. “What has your big toe throbbing?”
The old man’s humor lightened Nate’s mood. He perched on a barrel, trying to determine just how much to tell Mr. Gilmore. The man had tons of experience in life, much coming from the War Between the States. He’d probably be a good man for advice. Or just to chat with for entertainment. If he led the conversation right, Nate just might get another war story out of him.
Nate crossed his arms and got comfortable, though he knew he should finish his task. “Much as I like Perry and appreciate him offering me a job, I’d planned on spending a lot more time up in the hills with colors other than”—he motioned to the forge—“orange and black.”
Gilmore cackled and slapped his knee. “I like you, boy. You remind me of myself many years ago.”
He fished inside his pocket and pul
led out a pipe and pouch. Nate welcomed the action. It meant he’d likely get another story. Not only had Perry warned him of that, but he’d witnessed it for himself. Nate examined Mr. Gilmore as the man tamped tobacco into the bowl of his pipe. If his hair was a bit more gray and his beard a mite longer, Gilmore could almost pass as General Lee. Nate didn’t dare mention that fact. He had yet to learn which side Mr. Gilmore had fought on.
Smoke billowed as the man puffed on his pipe and gazed off at some distant scene in his memory. A full minute ticked by before he pulled the pipe from his mouth and pointed the mouthpiece in the direction he stared.
“I’ve known many a man who felt as you. That war,” he said with a shake of his head, “awful thing. I can only hope every man who fought felt some kind of regret, cuz then I’ll know there’s still hope.” He placed the pipe’s stem against his bottom lip. “Hope that mankind still has a heart that can feel love.”
He finally inhaled, his eyes looking as though he relived yet another battle. Nate felt for the man. Dad had had just as much trouble thinking and talking about his experiences. Empathy for the similarities made Nate want to open up and mention his father’s own turmoil.
“My dad was in that war. He could hardly talk about the things that happened.”
Mr. Gilmore nodded. “Not a day goes by that I don’t think of the men who fought under my command. Painful memories.” He slouched as though experiencing the agony all over again. “The men fought for what they thought was right and lost their lives, legs, or arms for their beliefs.” As he shook his head, he pointed the pipe stem at Nate. “But I’d do it all over again for the chance to battle alongside men of such fine courage and honor. Did they regret going to war and taking lives? No doubt. But they fought with pride and character, and I respect every one of them for that.”
Nate understood exactly what Mr. Gilmore was trying to get across. No matter what a man did, whether he liked his task or not, respecting himself in the morning meant doing it to the best of his ability and with pride and dignity. Nate felt certain his father took pride in his position in the war. The memories of lost friends were what haunted him.
Love Finds You in Silver City, Idaho Page 6
