Women, Whiskey & Gold

by Dawn, Autumn

  Alex sent him a skeptical look. Her tone said he was wasting his time. “Hello, Dakota.”

  “Good morning, sweetheart. Is your sister around?” He glanced at the store.

  A soft snort announced her opinion of his tactics. “You’d know.”

  Dakota never understood what it was about the Lions. Most of the girls in town played up to him, batting their eyes and smiling in his direction. True, part of that was because of his father’s huge ranch. But at twenty-five, with a lifetime of sweet young things chasing him, Dakota knew it wasn’t only his daddy’s money the girls were after. Even Widow Robinson surprised him in the barn one day and gave him a heck of a demonstration of his appeal. A good six years older, he could say with assurance that it wasn’t his daddy’s property the woman was hot for.

  Not that he’d repeated the experience. Surprised moments aside, the only woman he truly wanted was Charlie.

  He winked at the younger Lions girl. “Aw, come on, Alex, admit it; you like me.”

  “Like I like screw flies, measles and plagues,” she agreed, her attention on checking the horse’s harness.

  The click of boot heels heralded Charlie’s return. Squinting in the sunlight, she said, “Hey, Alex, did you…” she broke off with a scowl as she caught sight of Dakota. “What do you want?”

  Blessing his mother’s cheerful interference in his life, Dakota retrieved his excuse from his shirt pocket. “My mother sent you that blackberry brandy recipe for upset stomachs. Said she hoped that Sydney was feeling better.”

  Charlie’s face softened. “Thank you. Your mother is very sweet.”

  “It’s an Eagle trait,” he agreed glibly.

  That earned him a slant-eyed look and a noncommittal, “Um.”

  “She’d like to see you at the powwow this fall.”

  “So she said,” Charlie agreed, rubbing the nose of one of her horses.

  “So what should I tell her?”

  “Haven’t decided yet.”

  Across the street, Levi was smirking. His expression must be telling. Impatient, Dakota asked flat out, “So what is it? Do I have cooties or something? I swear you’re about as friendly as a band of scalpers, Charlie Lions.”

  She snorted with reluctant humor. “Why do I avoid you? Let me count the ways. Remember that time in school when you cut off half my hair?”

  The uncomfortable memory of snipping a keepsake lock came to him. He’d been admiring its silky glow and had wanted the soft stuff. The trick had earned him a paddling from the teacher and a stern lecture when he got home. He still had the hair. “It was only a little bit.”

  “It took six months to grow in and fill the gap. And what about that time you hid the garden snake in my lunch pail?”

  On retrospect that wasn’t the cleverest idea, but in his defense, he had been nine. He made a noncommittal noise.

  “Or that time when you locked me in the privy? Or when you turned into a coyote and peed on my picnic blanket?”

  He blushed. His teenage hormones had been raging and he’d had an overwhelming, instinctual urge to mark his territory. It was right before Charlie’s mother died, and Mrs. Lions reamed him. He’d also had an embarrassing lecture from his father on proper courtship rituals; as if he didn’t know how mad a girl would be if he urinated on her stuff. He’d lost his head when he’d seen Will Farrow flirting with her. It would have worked much better to pee on Will’s blanket…or better yet, his leg. He smirked.

  Charlie was still talking. Time to interrupt before the list of sins got longer. “Clearly you weren’t listening to the service about forgiveness last Sunday, Charlie. I swear that preacher would be heartsick if he knew his hard work went for nothing.” He tried a teasing grin.

  “Goodbye, Dakota.” She climbed up on the wagon.

  He felt a familiar pang of disappointment. She was leaving again.

  He raised his hand, palm out in the universal stop sign. “Wait right there. Can’t have you running into trouble without someone to lend a hand.” He ran across the street and mounted his black and white paint. The beast raised his head and huffed, eager to be off.

  “What are you doing?” Levi asked with a hint of disapproval.

  “Buying more time,” Dakota said impatiently. The Lions were already moving out.

  Levi shook his head but got the wagon moving. The lovesick were such a trial.

  “It’s kind of cute, in a puppy-like way,” Alex commented as soon as Dakota was out of earshot.

  Charlie stared at her.

  Always ready to bedevil her sister, Alex snapped the reins and said, “He’s not so bad. At least, the local girls don’t seem to think so.”

  “The local girls can have him,” Charlie grumbled. “He’s a menace.”

  The menace in question pulled up beside their wagon and flashed his blinding smile. He should have looked like any other cowboy in his brown duster, but the good quality black shirt and vest said he was a cut above. A wrangler’s blue bandanna was tied at his tanned throat, but the black Stetson with a silver conch hatband spoke of wealth. His dark hair brushed his collar, lending him a rakish look. Funny, but his ice blue eyes were always smiling when they looked at her. Had she ever seen him angry?

  Determined to ignore the little catch in her heart, Charlie looked straight ahead. Eagle spawn couldn’t be trusted.

  Well, that was a disservice to his mother, but she was an exception. Even Harmon never grumbled about her.

  Elizabeth Eagle was the peacekeeper in her family. Of good Irish stock, she’d never failed to show up at the ranch, her mischievous boy in tow, bringing a pie and an apology from Dakota after one of his stunts. Sometimes Charlie thought Dakota looked happy as he gave the apology, and Charlie had learned to look forward to the pies. Over the years there’d been a lot of them.

  Mrs. Eagle sure could bake, and no wonder. She’d probably produced a lot of pies on Dakota’s behalf. With those twinkling blue eyes and mischievous streak, Dakota was a magnet for trouble.

  He certainly lit Charlie’s fuse. Her temper, that was. Irritated, Charlie snapped, “Why are you here? I think we’ve established we don’t need big, strong men to protect us.”

  “Charlie,” Alex said sternly.

  Alex’s shaming look was bad enough, but the loss of Dakota’s smile hurt. Charlie slouched on the leather upholstered box seat and tried not to feel like a bratty kid. But who was he fooling? Rich men’s sons didn’t look at women like her for anything serious. She’d understood long ago that men like him were more interested in renting than buying, and she wasn’t for hire.

  When he smiled at her that way she almost forgot. No, it was better to chase him off. She bit her tongue, choking off an apology.

  Dakota looked at her soberly. “I was on my way home anyway. We’ve heard about the rustlers on your place. It seemed like a good idea to ride along with you.” He looked to the tangles of brush and cactus, his attention on the landscape and the dirt track that passed for a road.

  Now she felt bad. Awful, even. Dakota might be annoying, but he was also very sweet. She’d had no call to rake him over like that. Prodded by her conscience and Alex’s elbow in her ribs, Charlie grumbled, “I’m sorry. It was nice of you to be protective. Not that we need protecting,” she added hastily, “But those rustlers are a menace. We just don’t have enough of us, and they know exactly when to strike.”

  “You need more men,” he said with a frown of concern.

  The wagon bounced over a particularly nasty rut, and Charlie grabbed the handrail. “Yes, but thanks to the raiders, we can’t afford to hire more. As it is, we’ll be lucky to have enough cattle to ship to the buyers up north.” The railroads were making long cattle drives obsolete, which was just as well. Although the Native American controlled New Frontier government kept the way safe, it was still a long, rough trip.

  “You should have come to us. Cattle raiders are everyone’s problem.”

  She grimaced. “We notified the fort, of course. They say
they’re working on it, but the outlaws keep escaping over the border. Once they’re in Aztec territory, there’s nothing to be done.”

  “Riders,” Alex said urgently. A cloud of dust billowed behind three men cantering toward them.

  Charlie recognized them. She hooked a thumb through her belt loop, near her gun.

  The lead rider pulled up sharply in front of the wagon, making his horse toss his head and sidle, resenting the rough handling. The gunslinger looked like a dandy with his waxed mustache, black jacket and fancy red vest, but the duster and Stetson were all business. Twin pearl-handled colts gleamed at his waist.

  He grinned at her with sharp white teeth. “Well, Miss Charlie. Imagine meeting you here…and with such charming company.” His cultured southern drawl was soft, but the look he gave Dakota was a cold warning. Lester Bennett was known to shoot a man for looking better than he did, and he was eyeing Dakota like a peach can at target practice.

  “You got business with me?” Charlie asked briskly, in no mood to stand around chatting with a man she suspected of stealing her cattle. She’d been over the scenes of the thefts, and one thing she’d noticed at every one was the tracks left by a particular horse. This horse had a funny gait, a way of leaving a tick mark, indicative of a horse whose back hooves were always kicking its front. One of Lester’s tobacco-spitting sidekicks rode such a horse. While not a crime, when combined with other things it was too much of a coincidence.

  “As a matter of fact, I do. Tecuhtli Tochtli sent you a present.” He lifted the flap of his saddlebags and tossed her a parcel wrapped in brown paper and string.

  Aware of the heat in her cheeks, Charlie stared at it. Her neighbor to the south fancied himself quite the lady’s man. He’d taken to courting Charlie, more for the chance to get at Harmon’s prime land and water holes she suspected, than of flaming passion. Then again, with the way the Aztec lord looked at her, there might have been a bit of rutting on his mind, too.

  While she was gutsy, Charlie was no fool. Now was not the time to make an issue of this, not with Dakota radiating tension. She opened the gift.

  Surprise made her blink. It wasn’t the risqué lingerie or silky nightgown she’d been dreading. Instead a pretty lilac evening dress of impeccable taste nestled innocently within the paper, inviting her work-chapped hands to touch.

  She frowned questioningly at Lester.

  “His lordship is having a party for his neighbors this weekend,” Lester said with a polished smile. “He wanted to make certain you didn’t have the excuse of nothing to wear this time. Be there, Charlie.” It was a clear warning. With one last glance at Dakota, he wheeled around and rode away. His buddy riding the horse with odd back hooves spit a brown steam of chaw through the gap in his front teeth and rode after him.

  A muscle jumped in Dakota’s jaw. His blistering gaze landed on the lavender dress.

  “Don’t start!” This was not the first time that Tochtli practically ordered Charlie to attend his party. Refusals usually resulted in more cattle thefts, though she couldn’t prove the connection.

  “Don’t start what? Don’t start telling you what a snake he is?” The Eagles had more men and thus better protection than the Lions, but rustlers occasionally made fatal attempts to rob them. He knew what Tochtli was; everyone knew, though nobody had proof.

  The sound of Levi’s approaching wagon stalled the brewing quarrel. “Who rode off?” He frowned as he was filled in and glanced in the direction the gunslinger had gone. He looked at Alex and the frown deepened. “It’d be nothing but trouble if you went to his party. I don’t trust him.”

  “It’d be nothing but trouble if Charlie doesn’t go, and more missing cows.”

  “Alex…” Charlie started to silence her, but Dakota cut her off.

  “Cows?” He looked at Alex for an answer.

  Disgusted with Charlie’s warning stare, Alex told him, “We lose ten cattle every time Charlie tells the man no. No more, no less.”

  “Why haven’t you said anything?” Dakota demanded.

  “Who was going to help us? You?” Charlie said curtly. “It’s our problem.”

  “Rustlers are everyone’s problem, and you know I’d help if you asked.” As if in response to his mood, a damp wind blew their way. Black clouds were gathering in the east.

  No one spoke on the way home. The men saw them safely to within sight of their ranch and headed home.

  Dakota contented himself with the occasional growl until they’d reached the Eagle’s ranch and unloaded the wagon. He was saving his ire to unload at the family table.

  The Lions girls had been left on their own too long. It was time their neighbors did something about the thefts before the girls were left with nothing but cow tracks and an empty range.

  They washed up at the pump and scraped their boots at the porch. Elizabeth Eagle might act like a lamb, but she didn’t tolerate mess and bad manners in her house. Anyone who couldn’t take the time to wash and scrape his boots was invited to eat in the barn.

  Woven woolen rugs of southwest design decorated the smooth wood floor, and a snapping fire greeted guests walking in from the cold or damp. Leather couches with brass tacks circled around the hearth. Native art dressed up the walls and a carved, howling coyote guarded the hearth. A lone rocker with a knitting basket kept the masculine furniture company, waiting for its mistress to take her ease.

  “Boys? Is that you? Supper’s on,” Elizabeth called from the kitchen.

  Dakota followed the delicious smells coming from the kitchen, smiling as he saw the platters of mashed sweet potatoes, cornbread, wilted greens and pork roast. Everything was laid out on a red checked cloth that matched the curtains at the window. A layer cake sat on the counter, calling his name. “Looks good, Ma.” He bent to let her kiss his cheek and grinned as Levi stoically did the same. Her boys didn’t sit down until Elizabeth got her kiss.

  His father was already seated and nodded in greeting. He couldn’t say much else with Elizabeth talking a mile a minute.

  “Lord have mercy, I thought I’d have died of the heat in here today. Thank goodness it looks like it’ll rain. The garden needs it and we might get some sleep tonight.” She chattered on, talking about the girl who’d be arriving to help in the house and the events of the day. Nobody got a word in edgewise until she’d wound down. It was a well-established routine.

  Mr. Eagle waited until she’d quieted and looked at Dakota. “What’s the news in town?” His long black braid was silver shot and his face lined with years, but Chief Eagle was still a man in his prime.

  It was the opening he’d been waiting for. “Not much in town, but the Lions are having problems.”

  Elizabeth perked up and listened intently, her matchmaking instincts on high alert.

  Dakota outlined the situation, ending with, “Alex said if Charlie doesn’t go they’ll lose more cows. I don’t like it. It’s not right that a man like that should take advantage of those girls, and Harmon’s getting on in years. He might be grizzly-mean, but he’s only one man. Tochtli is going to do worse to Charlie than steal her cows if he gets a chance.”

  There was a moment of silence. Nobody doubted the Aztec’s ruthlessness. If he’d set his sights on Charlie…

  “You have a plan?” There was hint of a smile around Mr. Eagle’s eyes. He knew how his son felt about Charlie. He probably thought he’d spent the afternoon figuring out a plan to save her.

  He’d be right.

  “Yeah. We need to get the neighbors together and go after the rustlers. We know they’ve been hitting others, the Lions worst of all. If we get Charlie to say no to Tochtli’s party and set a trap, we could take those rustlers.”

  Mr. Eagle stroked his mustache. “And after you catch them? Tochtli will still be loose and mad at Charlie this time. Who’s going to protect her when he shows up to get revenge?”

  “I’m working on that,” Dakota said calmly. Charlie wasn’t ready to accept his help, but she couldn’t hold out forever.


  He didn’t want her coming to him for the wrong reasons. He wanted to protect her and her sisters, but that’s not why he wanted her to accept his suit. When she finally came to him, he wanted only one thing on her mind.

  “We’re behind you, son. Let me know what you need and we’ll make it happen,” his father promised. He approved of his son’s choice in Charlie; she would make a fine wife. It was also entertaining to watch his son work so hard to catch a female. He grinned, looking forward to the drama.

  Charlie held perfectly still. A blaze of red and gold fired the sky behind the black canyon wall. Six riders moved through the belly of the ravine, not fast enough to raise dust, but quick enough to reach the Lion’s territory by dark.

  They were getting sloppy.

  She’d sent Alex to the house to warn Harmon to be ready for trouble. Alex was supposed to send Max to the nearest neighbors, the Eagles, for reinforcements and hotfoot it back here. Meanwhile, Charlie was holed up in this canyon, her horse stashed among some sagebrush while she stretched out on the warm rock, watching the bad guys. Her finger itched to pull the trigger, but she couldn’t yet. Not without proof. They had to grab some cows…then she could shoot them.

  She’d suspected this canyon was the cattle rustler’s playground. It ran off their property and smack into the Aztec’s; a perfect cattle chute.

  Well, it had been. After tonight, the thieves were going to have to work harder for their money.

  But first she wanted proof, preferably without endangering herself. As insurance, she’d stashed a few cows at the head of the narrow valley. If these guys looked interested… Her finger stroked her rifle guard. Of course, her gun was the least of their worries. If they bolted back the way they’d come, they’d be in for a nasty surprise.

  It wasn’t the weekend, but she’d sent a note to Lord Tochtli. Predictable as he was arrogant, he’d responded as she knew he would.

  Her lip curled in disgust. Even if she hadn’t hated his guts, she wouldn’t have married the man, no matter how filthy rich; stupidity was repellent. The thought of having kids who would inherit his smarts made her shudder.