Gabriel's Atonement
Page 22
“What do you need?” Gabe hopped up, his dark pants covered in dirt and grass.
“My satchel, if you don’t mind. I’d like to brush the tangles out of my hair.”
While he fetched the bag, she unbraided her hair and ran her fingers through it. Gabe hurried back her way, his steps slowing as he gazed at her with wide eyes. His throat moved as he swallowed and continued to her side. He plopped the bag down then sat on the far side of it and cleared his throat. “We…uh…need to make plans for the day.”
She nodded. “I need to get back. Michael will worry if I’m gone too long.”
“First thing, I need to get into Guthrie and register my claim before someone gets it into his mind to steal it out from under me.”
Lara gasped. “You mean someone might do that? How would you prove it’s yours?”
He flashed that cocky grin, and she dropped her gaze, hating the way her insides reacted to his nearness.
“I have a witness to verify my claim.”
Her gaze shot up. “I’m not going with you to Guthrie.”
“You don’t have to, unless I need you to prove I got this land first, fair and square.”
“So, when are you going?”
A muscle flicked in his jaw. “I really ought to go right after breakfast. Will you be all right here alone? Are you sure you don’t want to ride along?”
She glanced around the desolate valley, wondering if it was wise to stay there alone, but then the starch flowed down her spine again. “I’ll be fine. Go—and when you return, I’ll start back.”
A worried expression flitted across his face. “What about working for me? I could really use your help, Lara. And I have the funds to pay well.”
“If I work for you, it will be for that ten acres of land you offered me. My family needs a permanent home, and it would take years of work to save up enough money to buy land.” She really had no choice. Since she failed to win a claim, this was her only viable option to get her family the home they needed. “I will work for you on one condition.”
Gabe smiled, and one eyebrow cocked up. “And what would that be?”
“I want to pick out my land.”
He seemed to mull over her comment for a long moment, then he nodded. “I’ll agree to that—on one condition.”
“Um…what condition?”
“That you pick land along one of the four borders of my claim and not right smack in the middle of it.”
Lara nodded. “That’s more than fair. Agreed.”
“It’s a deal.” He held out his hand, and she eyed it. Touching him was dangerous, but she had to seal the deal. “I’ll shake on it now, but I also want things officially put in writing, so there’s no confusion later, especially if you decide to sell the claim at some point.” She reached out, allowing his hand to envelop hers. A hot fire sizzled through her as if she’d been hit by lightning as her palm rested against his. Gabe’s self-assured expression deepened, and he captured her gaze with his own. Her heart pounded in her ears as she veered into dangerous waters.
He gently tugged her toward him. “Lara…”
His voice was far too husky—far too appealing. She yanked her hand back, frightened to realize how attracted she was to him. So inappropriate for a new widow. Living around him daily would be a challenge, but at least she’d have her own home to return to at night.
“We’d better eat some breakfast, so you can be on your way. The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll get back. I’d very much prefer not to be here alone after dark.”
The sweet moment between them was lost. Gabe nodded, looking disappointed. He stood. “I’ll build up the fire and see what there is to eat.”
“I have two cheese sandwiches that need to be eaten.”
He nodded and walked over to the pile of wood he’d collected.
She watched him go, both relieved and frustrated. Why did she have to be attracted to Gabriel Coulter? Everything would be so much easier if she weren’t.
Chapter 20
Near noontime, Gabe rode into Guthrie, more than a bit surprised at the mass of people he encountered. Thousands of tents dotted the land for miles. He imagined the sight resembled a massive army camp. People moved everywhere, carrying wood, hawking food and water, and business after business was open, as if it weren’t odd that no one had a building to work from.
His stomach grumbled, but he rode on, anxious to locate the land office and make his claim official. He’d read in the Homesteader’s Handbook that the land office would be situated near the depot, so he headed there, hoping to find Luke somewhere in the mess of folks. Up ahead, his gaze landed on a small wooden structure, one of the few built so far. He had no doubt that next time he arrived in town there would be many more, because hammering and sawing occurred in almost every direction he looked.
As he dismounted, he thought of all the things he needed to buy: a wagon and team, food supplies, a stove, a bed for Lara and her son, although he could probably make one fairly easily. He’d need rope for supporting the mattress and using around the ranch, and wire for fencing. He blew out a loud sigh as he tied Tempest to a hitching post, and then he walked over and stood behind the last man in line at the land office. Starting from scratch wouldn’t be easy, but many besides him would be doing the same thing. And he was in better shape than most because he had money and several rooms of furniture.
An hour later with his claim officially registered and his certificate proving it in his pocket, he went in search of something to eat. A place called Mel’s caught his eye, with red-and-white-checkered cloths covering three tall tables. There were no chairs, but a man could stand at the table and eat without having to hold his plate and cup. A large man with muttonchops and bushy eyebrows served him a bowl of ham and beans, the daily special—and the only item on the menu. Lukewarm corn bread and hot coffee finished off the fare. Not the best meal he’d had, but it filled his belly and allowed him to watch the comings and goings of the town.
He needed to finish his business and get back to Lara. He didn’t like leaving her alone, especially after the fall she took. She seemed to be all right, but he didn’t want to spend any more time in town than necessary.
He rode up and down several of the makeshift streets to see who had the best stock of supplies. It didn’t take long to figure out there was one place in particular that had far and above the amount of supplies than the other stores—Hillborne General Store. He tied Tempest to a brand-new hitching post and wandered into the big tent, looking at the stacks of wares as he walked. He hadn’t expected to find a store almost as well stocked as one he would see in Kansas City, but someone had been wise and forward-thinking enough to plan ahead. The man had sure taken a risk, because if he hadn’t gotten land, he would have been stuck with all of this stock.
As the list in his head grew of things he wanted to take back to camp, Gabe realized he should have first looked into buying a wagon or a packhorse.
A nicely dressed man close to his age smiled. “Can I help you find something, mister?”
Gabe pushed his hat back on his head. “I need more than I can carry. Do you know where I could purchase a wagon and team?”
The blond man rubbed his hand across his jaw. “I’ve been so busy here that I’ve hardly left this tent, but I heard some discouraged folks were selling out and hopping the train back to wherever they came from. You might try down near the depot. In the meantime, do you have a list of supplies?”
Gabe shook his head. “I didn’t make one because I wasn’t sure what all would be available, but I need pretty much everything to start working my land.”
The man’s blue eyes sparkled, and he held out his hand. “My name’s Mark Hillborne, and I’m guessing you’re one of the fortunate men who won a claim yesterday.”
“Gabe Coulter.” He shook hands, smiling. “And yes, I did.” His smile faded when he thought of how Lara had planned on claiming that piece of land before her horse stumbled. He’d make it up to her. “I nee
d a good stock of canned goods, flour, sugar, coffee, beans, rice, shovel, axe, saw, fencing wire.” He blew out a loud breath. “So much it makes my head swim.”
Mr. Hillborne jotted down a list as fast as Gabe spat it out. Then he paused and glanced up. “I hope you’re aware that I’m not offering credit, since I don’t know anyone here.”
Gabe nodded. “I can pay. I sold horses before the land run and did fairly well.”
Mr. Hillborne chuckled. “I bet you could buy some of those horses back now for a fraction of what you sold them for.”
“I reckon you’re right.” He tapped his finger on the table that served as the store’s counter. “Why don’t you gather me a small supply of food stocks while I go see if I can purchase a wagon. No sense in ordering more than I can carry.”
Mr. Hillborne looked a little disappointed, but he nodded. “I’ll be here when you get done.”
Gabe rode Tempest downhill toward the depot. Off to the right, he noticed a half-dozen wagons and a corral of horses and mules and reined his horse toward them. He picked out a decent buckboard and team and dickered with the eager seller until he got the price he wanted, then he returned to Hillborne’s. He had a feeling the store’s sharp owner wouldn’t be as easy to haggle with as the liveryman.
An hour and a half later and a lot poorer, he stood next to his full buckboard. Wouldn’t Lara be surprised with all that he’d bought? The cooking and food supplies would make preparing meals much easier for her, as would the big washtub for doing laundry. Tempest nickered at him, probably more than ready to be off.
Gabe wished he could have found Luke, but finding a specific person among thousands was nigh on impossible. He secured Tempest’s reins to the tailgate and patted the horse’s rump as he walked behind him.
“There’s that pocket-pickin’ blackleg Gabriel Coulter!”
He spun around, looking for the man who’d slandered his name. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and an ominous feeling tightened his gut. His gaze landed on a tall man who looked vaguely familiar. How did he know the man?
The cowboy walked toward him, keeping his hand near his holstered gun. “You ruined my brother’s life, Coulter, and I aim to ruin yours.”
After washing her hair in the creek, Lara strapped Grandpa’s holster onto her waist again and wrapped a blanket around her to get warm. The sun would dry her hair, but with it damp, a chill had worked its way into her bones. Walking helped her warm up and seemed to also work some of the tension from her muscles. She followed the creek, meandering in and out of the trees that lined it.
She exhaled a loud sigh. This land Gabe won was beautiful, and the water made it the perfect choice for a farmer or a man who wanted to raise horses on a small scale. It would have been a wonderful place to call home, if only she hadn’t lost.
But if she accepted Gabe’s generous offer, she could return to her family, partially successful. There really was no choice, even though she didn’t want to be near Gabe, because he stirred her senses with his glimmering eyes and gentle touch. Tom had never been so tender. He’d charmed her into falling in love with him when she was only Jo’s age, but then he’d taken what he felt was his and often left her crying in his wake. If that was marriage, she didn’t want it.
She had to believe that not all men were like that. Her father had been a kind, compassionate man, and she was certain Grandpa never treated Grandma so harshly. Nor would Gabe. But then, she’d have never expected Tom to treat her in such a manner, either.
A creaking noise jerked her gaze to a hill covered in bushes and trees. She paused, searching for whatever made the sound, making sure it was safe to continue on before she ventured farther. Nothing moved except for the leaves rustling in the breeze. A gust tugged at the blanket and her skirts. Her hair fluttered out to the side. The creaking noise emanated through the shadowy area again, raising the hair on her arms. Shedding the blanket, she tugged the pistol from her holster, cocked the hammer, then cautiously crept forward. Stopping behind a wide oak, she swallowed hard and peered around the trunk.
She was surprised to find what looked to be a campsite. There was no sign of anyone there now, but she chose to err on the side of caution and stayed hidden.
The eerie squeal made her jump. Lara took a half step around the tree and gasped. The noise was a door, swinging back and forth in the breeze—a door to an opening in the side of a hill. She’d heard of dugouts before, but she’d never seen one.
“H’lo in the camp. Anyone there?”
Her hand shook as the pistol grew heavy. She lowered her arm to her side but didn’t holster the gun. When no one answered, she slowly stepped forward, searching every direction. There was nothing to indicate the camp was fresh, but she couldn’t afford to take chances. She made a beeline for the charcoals in the middle of the campsite, kept her gun ready, and poked the ashes with a stick. No sign of smoke or warm embers. No one had used this fire pit in a long while. She relaxed and looked around. A buckboard sat near the dugout, and several faded men’s shirts hung from a rope strung between two trees. Someone might have lived here at one time, but they no longer did. A pair of stained socks, with holes in the heels and toes lay on the ground, as well as a couple of fishing poles and dishes. What had happened here? Why would someone ride off and leave their laundry and buckboard?
She turned to the dugout, longing to look inside but also partly afraid to. She swallowed and tiptoed to the door. It was possible someone was hiding in there but not too likely, given the sad state of the camp. She pointed the gun toward the open door. “Anyone there?”
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She huffed a breath, embarrassed at her nervousness. Tugging the door open all the way, she stepped forward and peered inside. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dimmer lighting, but after a moment, she could see that the inside was actually bigger than their soddy in Caldwell had been.
She sucked in a breath. Gabe had said she could have her choice of his land. Would it be selfish of her to pick land that included the dugout? Her family could have a shelter right away, which was especially important for Grandpa and Michael. Why, the place was plenty big enough for her and Jo to sleep inside, too. Walking farther in, she spotted a table with two chairs. Pocketing her gun, she allowed herself to smile. Grandpa had said God would provide. The good Lord hadn’t provided the way she’d hoped or even expected, but He had given them just what they needed. “Thank You, God.”
On the table, she found a lantern and a tin mug with some matches. She snagged one and lit the lantern then turned it toward the back wall. The place certainly needed cleaning up, but it was cool now, and she suspected it would be warm in the winter. Maybe by then they could get a stove and put in a vent pipe. On the wall to her right was a double bed. It would be perfect for Grandpa and Michael. The bedding needed boiling and the tick re-stuffed, but the frame was solid. Lara circled the room, unable to believe her good fortune.
There was just one thing she had to make sure of—that the dugout wasn’t smack-dab in the middle of Gabe’s claim. He’d been clear on that issue.
She returned the lantern to the table and blew it out, sending a plume of smoke into the air. Outside, she walked around the hill and up to the top. The exertion made her head pound, but she wasn’t about to stop. She needed to find the stones that marked the edge of Gabe’s claim.
After nearly an hour of zigzagging left and right, she found the pile of rocks that marked the southwestern corner of Gabe’s property. Lara turned back toward the dugout and smiled. If she asked for the whole southwestern corner, she could have the dugout, a water source since the creek angled along Gabe’s southern border, and a somewhat flat valley for planting. There were even plenty of trees for building a pen for the goats and a barn for Sunny, their mule, and the cow she hoped to buy.
Delighted, Lara clapped her hands. The sun shone down, warming her head and drying her hair. She was finally home.
Gabe held out his hands, while his mind raced as
he tried to figure out if he’d ever before seen the stranger who now called him out. “Sorry, mister, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You’re the no-good gambler who cheated my brother and caused him to lose his monthly pay that he was supposed to send to his wife. She up and left him and took their kid with her—and I blame you.”
“I never forced anyone to play cards with me. And I never cheated. Besides, those days are past.” He glanced at the crowded streets. People all along the dirt road watched, while moving out of the way at the same time. A woman tucked her daughter behind her back, but she didn’t make any attempt to leave. If shots were fired, anyone lining the street would be in danger of getting hit.
“I don’t even know you. What’s your name?” A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Gabe’s temple, but he didn’t dare make a move to wipe it. More than likely, he could outdraw the stranger, but he didn’t want to risk getting shot, especially with Lara waiting for him to return.
“Payton Reeves. My brother’s name is Judah. Sound familiar?”
Judah Reeves. Gabe rolled the name over his mind until a picture formed. “Yeah, it does. But like I said, your brother came to me. I never forced him to sit at my table.”
“You gamblers are all alike—stealing a man’s hard-earned money and grinning all the way to the bank.”
Gabe took a step closer when Reeves glanced sideways. “Your argument is with me, Reeves. Let’s handle this like men. Take off your gun belt and fight me like a man. That way no one else will get hurt.”
Reeves glanced around, probably noticing the women and children in the crowd. Eyes narrowed, he stroked his whiskery chin with his thumb and index finger. Scowling, he turned back to Gabe. “You ruined my family, and I mean to have revenge.”