Thankful for the Cowboy

by Mary Connealy

  She gave him a skeptical look, the look of a woman in love who cherished her husband and wanted him to be safe. Aye, it was a fine way for a woman to look at a man.

  “I left Cindy in our room that night.” He squeezed her hand as if apologizing for that. “Then I slipped around to where those Scotsmen were camping. It wasn’t hard, they were inside the fort walls and I could come near and still keep one of the buildings between them and me.

  “I heard one of them complaining that he wanted to go back to Scotland. He missed the mountains and hated this endless sea of grass with no wood to burn for a fire, no shelter. One of them asked how in the world a man was to build a house out here without trees and stones.”

  “We have all asked ourselves that,” Lauren said wryly.

  “Then MacKinnon, the one you called Murdo MacKinnon for I suppose they are all MacKinnons, said they couldn’t go back. His talk was rough and angry. He said the land had been stolen by invaders.”

  “MacKinnon had a lot of enemies but he was also strong, and he kept control of his land through brute force.”

  “Which,” Lauren said, “is no more than how every Scot laird keeps control of his land.”

  Shaking his head, Tom said, “Not like MacKinnon. He was brutal. Evil. The Scots have long memories and never quit plotting revenge against someone who has done them wrong. But often revenge is an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Not MacKinnon. If you took an eye, he took a head, then put it on a spike in front of his gate. If you offended him, even slightly, accidentally, you needed to run because he’d see to it you didn’t survive.”

  “His enemies must have finally gathered against him and driven him out,” Niall said. And he took Megan’s hand even more tightly than Conall had Cindy’s.

  “Tom, will he come for me then, even now that I’m a married woman?”

  “How many men were with him, Conall?” Lauren asked. “And was this just yesterday, or—”

  “There were five in all. MacKinnon and four others.”

  “I know just which four.” Megan slipped her hand free from Niall’s and rose from the table. “He had four men who were his equal in brutality. And they were loyal. Many of his men were terrified of him. They would have been glad to see him go. But there were always four who stayed by his side. I need to go. I’ll bring death to all of you.”

  She turned her frightened green eyes on Tom. “And you must come too, and it’s sorry I am for it. But he’ll come for you, same as he’s coming for me.”

  “We’re not going anywhere, Megan.” Niall rose and very deliberately grabbed Megan’s hand. “We stand and fight.”

  Lauren stood. “No, we don’t.”

  The room turned to her, several gasped.

  Megan said, “I’ll go alone, Niall. I’ll not bring this danger on you.”

  “We don’t fight and we don’t run.” Lauren proclaimed in a voice that rang with all the authority of a mother. And with all the courage of a frontier woman. And with all the wits she’d needed to tear survival out of a wilderness.

  “Then what, Ma?” Niall asked, his voice shaking with fury. “We just stay here and wait for him to come? Wait for him to ride in here like an invading Highlander and take Megan away?”

  “No.”

  Everyone seemed to stop breathing.

  Tom realized then how much these four men, and they were men, even Rory, had learned to respect their ma and her strength. Right now, they were her boys. And Megan and Cindy caught her tone and the boys’ respect and gave it to Lauren just as fully.

  Tom had to admit he was paying close attention himself.

  “We ride to Fort Niobrara now, today. All of us. We find this man and we tell the authorities at the fort he has been pursuing our Megan. Then we have him and his men arrested.”

  There was a long, cold silence. Then she went on. “This is America. Murdo MacKinnon has no more power here than any of us. Whatever tyranny he used to rule over his clan in Scotland, in America he is nothing.” Lauren slashed her hand as if she were cutting the man in two. “He is not allowed to hound and kidnap, not even threaten to hound and kidnap a young woman. And especially not in the American west. Women are rare out here and it is well known that they are to be treated well and protected. We are going. If we work it just right, explain it clearly, maybe they’ll hang him and all his followers. But they will certainly be arrested and thrown in prison for long years.”

  An extended silence gave Tom time to realize he was frightened. He saw that Megan was, and moreover, he saw it in Conall and Cindy. They’d seen MacKinnon. They had a sense of the man.

  Admitting his fear helped Tom grow a backbone. There was no shame in fear, only in not facing it. And face it he would.

  “Let’s clean this kitchen up and go. I want to meet him at the fort, not in the wilderness.”

  Niall said with cold anger, “If we do meet him on the prairie, we are five strong men, well-armed. And our women are as tough as we are. He can’t take Megan anywhere.”

  Tom saw Cindy stand straighter for being called tough.

  The fear faded from Megan’s eyes replaced with a flash of angry fire. She grabbed her plate, and Niall’s. “Leave the pie. We’ll be back to eat it.”

  They were saddled and riding within the half hour.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lauren had been to Fort Niobrara only once since it’d been established and that was to sell cows earlier in the fall. Well, twice because she’d sold her cows, ridden on, bought another herd, stopped back at Fort Niobrara to sell…anyway, she’d never spent much time there.

  Coming back wasn’t going to be as exciting. Unless you counted having a villain arrested as excitement and she didn’t.

  She rode up looking again at the buildings, more being built every day. And men, soldiers everywhere. And stores buying and selling. Animals, wagons, smoke billowing out of chimneys. It was an active, bustling place. It was jarring to see it built on her quiet prairie.

  She couldn’t quite decide if it was a relief to have a fort nearby, to trade and for protection. Or if this structure was an ugly wound on her beautiful Sandhills.

  Both probably.

  “Can you believe all this lumber?” She looked at Tom, riding tall beside her.

  “Not a sod house to be seen anywhere.”

  She saw something in his eyes. It might have been fear but she didn’t think that was it, exactly. Yes, he knew Murdo MacKinnon and had every reason to fear the ruthless chieftain. Lauren remembered the MacKinnon clan and knew of their reputation. They were sneaks and backstabbers who came quick and quiet and deadly in the dark of night.

  Like cowards.

  They held a grudge against any wrong done to them. And they weren’t opposed to taking some small, sometimes even imagined offense and using it as an excuse to fight.

  Few clans had anything to do with them. They were feuding with most of their neighbors and had been for generations.

  But her Drummond clan was far enough away, and she’d been so young, all she knew was reputation. She’d never had to deal with them.

  Tom had lived under Murdo’s tyranny all his young life. His fear was there. But it wasn’t what she was seeing. It was fear overcome by courage.

  A man facing what he had to face, doing what he had to do.

  To Lauren, the very definition of a man.

  “Where did it all come from?” She was still wondering about the lumber. Maybe talking about how nice it would be to get their hands on a wagon load of boards would distract him from all his inner turmoil.

  Conall rode up beside her. “It was pulled by oxen from the mountains and forests they call The Black Hills. But the other supplies come from Norfolk. I rode back in a long supply wagon train coming to the fort.”

  Conall pointed to the west. Lauren saw a herd of massive longhorns grazing to the west of the fort.

  “There were ten or more pairs of oxen for every wagon,” Conall went on. “But the day of oxen is nearly over. They
are laying rails for a train.”

  “A train all the way out here?” Lauren shook her head. She couldn’t quite imagine it.

  “Yes, it’s reached Norfolk already with plans to get to Fort Niobrara and go on west to Fort Robinson in the next two years.”

  “It’s true,” Tom said. “We rode the train to Omaha, then came north to Norfolk. We bought our wagons and the supplies for the windmills there.”

  “Sandhills, Black Hills,” Lauren said with mild amusement. “So often the land takes on the name of the area. Fort Niobrara along the Niobrara River.”

  “It helps a man find his way,” Tom quietly.

  “I want to go straight to the fort commander. I want him to know what Murdo has threatened. I want him to know how he acted in Scotland, but our trouble is here and now.” Lauren knew her way just enough, from the cattle drive. She reined her horse for the fort headquarters. She’d gone two paces.

  “Megan MacKinnon,” a loud voice ordered, “get down off that horse.”

  Five men with long, full beards and hair down past their shoulders spread themselves across the street like they were preparing for a shoot-out at high noon. They were wearing trousers rather than kilts. No heavy claymore swords hung at their sides, there wasn’t a speck of plaid anywhere. But they were highlanders. She’d have noticed even if the leader hadn’t spoken with a Scots accent even stronger than Tom’s.

  The one walking toward them did the talking. He was one pace in front of the others, who strode along, two on each side of the leader. He’d left six feet tall far behind. And he was broad as a building. His hair was dark, his eyes flashing blue fire. His four companions were nearly his equal in size. And the leader’s eyes were locked on Megan as if she rode alone.

  Lauren glanced back to see her daughter-in-law shrink in the saddle as if she were a snowball melting in the hot sun.

  There would be no friendly talk to explain their mission with the fort commander. It didn’t matter. They had right on their side and that made her more powerful than this huge Scottish barbarian.

  Her heart went straight to her belief in her country. Tom and Megan, and these men, were new to America. But Lauren had been here long enough to understand no man was lord over another. No tyrant could ignore right and wrong and write his own laws, allowing himself anything he wished.

  Her country would protect her. And the fact that Murdo hadn’t figured that out yet only meant that he was stupid on top of his savagery. Well, today he’d learn.

  She reined her horse toward Murdo and rode straight for him.

  Her sons drew up to ride in a line with her, two on each side. Then Tom came up between her and Niall on her right.

  She looked at her boys, angry, determined, bold.

  Tom’s expression was different. Determined but there was a deep wariness there. A man not long in this country. A man not used to equality and freedom. Well, he’d learn in the next few minutes men didn’t abuse women—not in full view of witnesses, not in America.

  Murdo’s eyes, cold and arrogant, went straight to Megan. She rode a length back, beside Cindy, but came along just as steady.

  “I choose to remain on my horse.” Her voice wavered but she spoke. She defied the man. He strode straight for her, as if there weren’t a row of people between them. When he tried to pass between Lauren and Tom, Tom swung off his horse. A skilled rider now.

  A cowboy.

  Someone to be thankful for.

  Tom landed on the dusty street of Fort Niobrara. Cold wind buffeted him but his anger gave him fire enough to keep him warm.

  The man to Murdo’s right came straight for Tom. An old enemy. Laird MacKinnon…no…Murdo, Lauren was right he was no laird, not here. Murdo was getting older. He’d been their clan leader when Tom was a boy. He was still a man at full strength but he had to be near fifty-years-old. But these men at his side were Tom’s age or even younger.

  More body guards than anything else. He’d seen them once back in Scotland. They’d been riding away from the house just as Tom had gotten home and, from a distance, he’d seen them and been terrified of what they might have done to his family.

  Then he got home and found Da dying and Megan terrified. She knew them all too well. Ian, James, Cathal and Bannock.

  Murdo’s eyes lit with recognition. When they were youngsters, Murdo had harassed him, and bullied him until life had been unbearable and driven Tom from his home and family to build windmills.

  Now Murdo picked Tom and came straight for him. It twisted Tom’s stomach to think what might have been ahead for Megan once she was in Murdo’s clutches, even worse, when he tired of her.

  It made Tom killing mad and here came Murdo with a cruel smile on his face. His eyes alight with pleasure as he walked straight for Tom.

  Tom was no green boy anymore. He worked long hours at hard labor. He had the corded muscles of a man who scooped dirt for hours every day, hammered and built and rode and worked hard. Murdo looked like he’d spent the last year riding the train. He’d grown fat. The man had been protected for too long. When he wanted to cause trouble, he had strong men to do his bidding. When was the last time Murdo had even thrown a punch?

  He’d have to do it today. Tom clenched his fists. Lauren dismounted on the side away from Tom. Tom wished the horse didn’t separate them.

  No time to round the horse now. They danced and threw their heads as Bannock came pushing between them.

  Bannock walked toward Lauren, no doubt to shove past her to reach Megan. Tom had to protect both of them, and to do that, he had to go through Murdo. Tom’s fury rose as he thought of the evil these men had let loose on the MacKinnon Clan. And now to bring all their vile ways to a new land.

  Tom wasn’t going to stand for it.

  The horses stomped toward each other, their big bodies trapping Murdo and Tom tight between them. Too tight to get in a single punch.

  Lauren alit to block one of MacKinnon’s men. Tom and each of her sons dismounted to block these fools. She heard Megan and Cindy scrambling off their horses behind her.

  One of Murdo’s men came toward her, ahead of his boss. Murdo headed straight for Tom.

  She understood that. Murdo knew who Tom was and he intended to take Tom’s little sister away from him and trample Tom into the dirt while he did it.

  The man coming toward Lauren shoved her hard enough she stumbled into her horse, which pranced sideways and squeezed Tom and Murdo between it and Tom’s horse.

  Lauren launched herself into the breech, to block the man who tried to get past her with that careless thrust. She ran hard into him and he knocked her back enough she’d’ve fallen if strong arms hadn’t caught her. She glanced back expecting to see Tom or one of her sons.

  Instead, Megan and Cindy had her and stood her upright. Three women, facing one brute.

  The horse whinnied and the bridle rattled as the horse shook its head and pranced.

  “I will not go with you,” Megan spoke in a trembling voice. “You have no—no—”

  “The word you’re looking for, Megan,” Cindy said over top of Megan’s stumbling, “is right. He has no right to come here and demand you do anything. We have rights in this country. You are a free woman. Neither he, nor any of his men will put their hands on you. And they will most certainly not take you with them.”

  Lauren decided she was going to love her new daughter-in-law. And she’d have told her so except at that moment, Murdo…he wasn’t Laird over a blasted thing here in the Sandhills… backed out of the tight squeeze he’d gotten himself into, rounded the front of Lauren’s horse and came straight toward Megan. He appeared not to notice his own man and Lauren standing in his way.

  Lauren held up both hands. “You stop right there.”

  He grabbed her forearms and jerked her to the side just as a dull thud sounded and one of MacKinnon’s men Lauren hadn’t kept track of, hit the ground. Niall came from behind Murdo and Tom came around the backside of her horse and stood with her.

&n
bsp; “Get your hands off of her.” Tom’s voice, heavy with his Scottish accent, laced with rage and grounded in the power of every free man, was enough to stop even this fool in his tracks. But he didn’t let go of Lauren fast enough. Tom swung a fist. Murdo went over backward. Tom caught Lauren this time and kept her from being dragged over on top of the varmint who’d grabbed her.

  Niall stepped aside to let him fall, then lifted the man out of the dirt, and slammed a fist in his belly and two in his face. Murdo went down hard. He groaned, then rolled on his back and stayed down beside the man Niall had knocked over. Murdo looked up and Lauren saw the coward he was.

  He was used to people cowering, begging for mercy.

  Tom slugged the man who’d first come at Lauren and knocked him on top of his boss. The man reeled, but came back.

  “Bannock, you’re not the bully two years older than me, six inches taller than me anymore.” Tom’s voice had a savage satisfaction in it when he punched Bannock repeatedly. Bannock sank toward the ground and Tom caught the front of his shirt and slugged him one more time.

  Conall came along, hauling another of the outlaws by the collar and added him to the pile of villains. The fourth and final man who’d stood with Murdo staggered backward, being driven back by Duncan, landing one blow after another.

  The man stumbled over his clansmen and went down. All five of them lay there, groaning, defeated.

  Lauren and her family crossed their arms and looked down.

  Niall said, “Megan is my wife. I will kill any man who puts their hands on her.”

  Tom said, “And you shoved Lauren and grabbed her.”

  All four of Lauren’s sons, went rigid with anger and turned as if to grab the men and hammer a few more fists into them.

  “Here now, what’s going on here?” A deep voice froze everyone in their tracks.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tom wheeled around from disposing of his former clan to face a man dressed in a tidy uniform. An older man with long, white sideburns and a moustache to match.