Cowboy Pride

by Lacy Williams

  "We'll be all right," Janie said. "We can make it."

  But Liza's ankle throbbed with each step. She didn't think it was broken, but walking on it wasn't helping.

  She stumbled once. Again.

  Night animals called all around them, and she shivered in terror. How long had they been stumbling in the darkness? Surely it was past midnight now. How much farther to the station?

  Every limb ached. Her foot was a white-hot throb. Minutes blurred together.

  The night air was cool, and she was chilled through, except for the hot flare of pain with each step.

  Time passed. She had no concept of how much. They'd fallen behind the rest of the passengers because of Liza's ankle. The low murmur of voices ahead had grown quieter and quieter.

  And then there were galloping hoofbeats and voices rang out. "Hello!"

  Panic rose, cutting off her breath momentarily, until another voice carried to her. "It's the sheriff."

  Janie sighed, a huge gust of air into the night. "Oh, thank heavens. We're back here!" she called. "Hello!"

  But when a rider came closer, the moonlight shone enough to illuminate the man’s face beneath the Stetson. It wasn't a sheriff at all.

  It was Rob Darcy.

  * * *

  Rob had never felt such thunderous relief as he had when he caught sight of Liza Bennett, her face pale and drawn in the moonlight. He hadn't even known she was among the train passengers.

  "Liza!" He was barely aware of her sister beside her as he turned in the saddle to call out to his sister, "Danna, over here!"

  He threw his leg over the saddle and slid to the ground. "Are you all right?"

  "Liza's foot is injured," Janie was quick to say, though the glance she shot Rob was dark and inscrutable. Maybe it was the bad lighting, and he'd misread her.

  He moved toward the two women, horse following close. His boots crunched on the gravel and dirt packed around the railroad tracks.

  "I'm fine," Liza was insisting to her sister, but Janie shook her head.

  He joined them and put a hand beneath Liza's arm for support. He was gratified when she leaned into him, though it was likely only a sign of her exhaustion and nothing else.

  "What're you doing out here?" she asked softly. Her face was aimed at the ground, and he couldn't read her tone to know whether she was relieved or angry to see him.

  They hadn't separated on good terms.

  With a little distance, he'd realized he could've handled things differently. Was it any wonder her answer had been no when he'd botched the proposal so badly?

  Right at this moment, he was glad to see her. Relieved beyond measure that she was unharmed.

  Danna rode up, calling a greeting to him. He waved at her with the same hand that held the reins.

  Then he answered Liza's question. "The sheriff got wind of the robbery and intercepted the train at the Sheridan station. I'd met Danna and her husband in town, and we happened to be eating in a restaurant near the station when one of the deputies spotted my sister and recruited her to ride out and find the passengers. Charlie's here, too." Somewhere. If Liza wanted the cowhand, Rob would be eaten up by jealousy, but he'd bear it. She'd seemed to gravitate toward him when she'd been in town before.

  Danna didn't dismount. "There's one or two folks with bumps and bruises up ahead, but for the most part, they're uninjured."

  "Liza's sprained her ankle," he told his sister.

  "It's only twisted," she muttered.

  "Twisted, then."

  Janie was watching the interplay between himself and Liza.

  "Rob's spread is closer than the station," Danna said. "The night's almost half gone. You two should stay the night. Chas and I can escort you home tomorrow."

  He probably should have thought of offering himself.

  "Oh—"

  "—yes," Janie finished before Liza could refuse.

  Probably she’d been planning to refuse.

  "I'm beyond exhaustion,” Janie said, “and after the scare tonight, I won't mind traveling with the marshal."

  "We don't want to impose," Liza argued softly.

  "It's no imposition," he said quickly. "Danna's right, it's closer. You should stay."

  Finally, she looked up at him.

  And her words from his horrible botched proposal were burned into his mind. There's nothing you could say...

  "If you'd like," he said belatedly.

  He couldn't read her eyes in the dark. Had the corner of her mouth twitched?

  "Why should we receive special treatment?" Liza pressed.

  "You're injured," he returned. "And... friends help each other, don't they?"

  He felt the weight of Danna's curious stare but didn't look her way.

  Danna went to fetch Charlie so Janie could ride along with him. Danna and Chas would help get the other passengers to the Sheridan train station and then ride back out to Rob's place.

  Liza shifted slightly, and he caught the slightest wince as pain crossed her features. He wanted to ease it.

  And remembered how she'd once teased him.

  "Don't worry. I won't leave you on foot out here."

  Her chin lifted slightly toward him. "Even if it isn't entirely proper for us to ride together?"

  She remembered, too.

  Charlie arrived and helped Liza into Rob's saddle first, then lifted Janie onto the back of Rob’s animal.

  They made for home.

  He was holding Liza.

  He set a slow pace, worried about his horse stepping in a hole in the low light.

  And enjoying having her close. She must be exhausted, because instead of sitting ramrod straight, as she had when they'd ridden together before, she rested against his chest.

  "Were you and your sister traveling home?" he asked quietly.

  "Yes. Our aunt took us sight-seeing in Montana."

  "What an unlucky time to be on the train."

  She hummed agreement. "I thought Janie might faint when the two gunmen came through our compartment. She was brave, though."

  His arm at her waist tightened automatically. "They came through your compartment?"

  "They were quite violent." Her voice shook on the words.

  Perhaps she hadn't had a chance to process what had happened until now. She'd been in the thick of it. He felt her take a shuddering breath.

  And then she sniffled.

  Liza, one of the strongest women he knew.

  He wanted to gather her close. Wished that he had that privilege, but he didn't.

  "No one will see it if you shed a few tears," he said quietly.

  Her head moved slightly against his shoulder.

  "And I won't tell."

  She laughed a wobbly laugh. "It's all finished now. Wouldn't it be silly to cry?"

  He heard the hiccup in her voice.

  "Not silly." He'd made mistakes with Danna when she was a young woman, hadn't known what to do with her feminine emotions.

  He desperately wanted to do better now.

  "You're safe now," he said.

  And that set her off. She cried softly, one hand coming up to wipe away her tears.

  * * *

  Liza didn't know what to make of this Rob Darcy.

  The man who'd been highhanded and told Nathan to break Janie's heart was now... sensitive?

  Nothing about his hold on her was improper, and settled in the curve of his arm, resting against his shoulder, she felt... protected. Safe.

  But she'd rejected his proposal. And no doubt damaged his pride. Just because he was being kind now didn't mean he felt anything for her.

  In the middle of her crying jag, she felt him shift behind her. Then he pressed a handkerchief into her palm.

  She hiccupped a sob. Was this the real Rob? Would she have been the recipient of more of this conscientiousness if she hadn't rejected him?

  A very tiny part of her brain recognized that her thoughts were whirling from an overload of emotion and fear still swirling through her
belly.

  Her tears eventually dried up to the occasional sniffle, but she didn't relinquish his handkerchief. She fingered the soft fabric.

  "We're nearly there."

  Rob's voice startled her. She must've dozed off.

  A soft murmur from nearby was probably Charlie telling Janie the same thing.

  The moon had descended in the sky, and stars twinkled overhead, but it was hard to see anything on the ground.

  A sleepy cow lowed. A horse whickered nearby. And a structure rose out of the darkness, a shadow against the starry sky.

  "The barn," Rob said. "It's not far to the house."

  The barn was massive, rising two stories. From this distance, she could see a corral and the silhouettes of several horses inside.

  There were no farm implements left out. The yard was clean and neat. It was obvious Rob took pride in his operation.

  And then they reined in near the long, low ranch house.

  It was large, too, made up of logs neatly squared off. Light from a long window on one side of the house illuminated a rectangle on the ground outside.

  "Hold on," he said just before he swung out of the saddle. He reached up for her, his hands spanning her waist as he helped her to the ground.

  He kept his hold on her as she tested her weight on her injured foot. It pained her, but not like it had when she'd been walking on the rocky, hard ground beside the railroad tracks for hours upon hours.

  "It's a little better already." She looked up to find Rob gazing down at her.

  The light shone in her face, and she squinted against it, trying to decipher his expression.

  And then Janie and Charlie where there, dismounting with a rustle of clothing and a low murmur.

  Rob let go of her and moved slightly away. When she wobbled, he steadied her with one hand beneath her elbow. "All right?"

  She nodded.

  "I'll take your horse, boss."

  She couldn't see him in the dark, but she imagined she heard a smile in Charlie's voice. Rob didn't argue as he took the reins and led both horses toward the barn.

  "Come inside," Rob said. "Watch the stair, there."

  He supported Liza's arm as she followed Janie up the steps to the long porch that spanned the length of the house. A pair of rocking chairs swayed gently in the breeze.

  Liza's foot sent another shaft of pain up her leg, and Rob steadied her again.

  She was afraid she could get used to his coddling.

  “Janie, the door?” Rob asked. “If you please.”

  Janie pushed through the door into the house, and Liza followed more slowly on Rob's arm.

  She almost didn't want to go inside. In the intimacy of the darkness, Rob had seemed... softer somehow.

  She was afraid that when they stepped into the light, he'd revert to the caustic, distant man she'd known before.

  The kitchen was huge, more than any one person needed.

  And then she realized with a barn the size of the one they'd passed, his spread must also be massive. And he'd need cowhands to run it. Hands needed to eat, so... the big kitchen made sense.

  A long counter would be lovely for preparing large meals. The stove was large and clean, it's black surface empty of stains. She imagined he must have a large root cellar outside as well, though she hadn't noticed in the darkness.

  One lamp was lit and had been shining from the windowsill. A small table beneath a window in the corner had two chairs and would be perfect for enjoying a cup of coffee before the cook started a big meal in the mornings. Through a doorway, she could see part of a darkened room and a long dining table and chairs. Elegant chairs, judging by the cut of the wood on the chair backs.

  Rob settled Liza at a chair at the small table and moved away. He took down the lamp and proceeded to light another, filling the room with more light, but she hardly registered his actions, she was so fixed on the simply beauty of his home.

  A knot took residence in her throat.

  This could've been her home, if she'd accepted his proposal.

  Rob brought the lamp toward her, and she swallowed to dislodge the obstruction in her throat.

  Janie knelt at her feet.

  "Let's get that shoe off," Rob said.

  Janie sent him a sideways glance as she reached for Liza's shoe.

  "It's really not necessary," Liza said. "My foot is much improved already."

  "It won't hurt to look," Janie said. "Just to be sure you don't have a sprain."

  Her shoe came off easily, and Janie peeled off her sock as well. There was no swelling, only a small bruise beneath the knob of her ankle. Rob leaned the lamp close enough for both of them to see it, and Liza stifled a hysteric giggle at both heads, dark and fair, leaning close over her foot.

  "I'll be right as rain after a good night's sleep." Liza primly settled her skirt back over her foot, hiding it from sight.

  Rob looked up at her, their gazes connecting. And holding.

  Janie stood, the motion broke the invisible contact.

  "I'm sure you're thirsty after your exertions tonight." Rob pointed to an upper cabinet. "There are cups there. Water in the pitcher and milk in the cool box."

  He edged toward the dining room and whatever was beyond. "Help yourselves, and I'll make up your room."

  Janie was already moving toward the counter.

  "Don't—" Liza stifled her initial refusal when Rob’s eyes came to rest on her. He'd been so kind to her already tonight. "Don't go to any trouble," she said quietly. "Janie and I can make up our own bed, can't we?"

  Janie nodded, her head in the upper cabinet.

  "It's no trouble." He held her gaze, but she couldn't decipher what was in his eyes.

  He disappeared into the house.

  Janie filled two Mason jars with cool milk and brought Liza's to where she sat at the table.

  Her eyes were wide. "Have you ever seen such a beautiful kitchen?" she whispered.

  Liza swallowed the boulder that had risen in her throat again. She cleared her throat. "No, I certainly haven't."

  Chapter 22

  Liza woke early to sun streaming around the gingham curtains.

  Beside her in the big bed, Janie slumbered on.

  Rob had showed them both to a room at the back of the house soon after they'd finished their milk. He'd left before Liza had been able to form a protest.

  She suspected he'd given up his own bedroom.

  The room was large and had its own stone fireplace built into the outside wall. It was far too warm to use it, but she could imagine cold winter nights snuggled in the large bed, with a fire crackling nearby...

  No, she shouldn't imagine such things. His kindness didn't mean a return of his feelings.

  She must remember that.

  She desperately wanted to peek in the heavy oak wardrobe in the corner, just to glimpse what she could of Rob's life. A Stetson rested atop it. His Sunday best?

  The bed had four large carved posts and the most comfortable feather tick. She'd fallen into a deep sleep almost immediately, worn out from the robbery and all the walking and their late-night ride.

  But now she felt rested.

  She waited another quarter hour, but Janie still didn't wake. Liza slipped from the bed and splashed her face with water from the basin. She wrinkled her nose at having to don yesterday's traveling dress. She'd left her carpetbag on the train and could only hope it had been taken off at the Sheridan station.

  She tiptoed through the quiet house, irritated to find all the bedroom doors closed.

  But the parlor... She'd glanced inside last night, but the room had been dark.

  Now she slipped in. A pair of lovely brocade sofas faced each other over a braided rug. Another stone fireplace would make this the most enjoyable room during the winter. Two large windows flanked the fireplace. The view overlooked the sweeping land, the barn, and the corral. A heavy sideboard displayed pretty china dishes.

  Next to one window stood an upright piano.

&nbs
p; Liza couldn't resist. She tiptoed across the room and touched the keys gently, not hard enough to play the notes. They were smooth and cool beneath her fingertips.

  Out the window, she caught sight of two riders coming to the yard. She didn't know the first, but the second... It was easy enough to recognize Rob's tall, muscled form. He rode with easy grace, confident in the saddle.

  The two men rode into the barn as she watched, unable to tear her eyes away.

  "Do you play?"

  The voice from behind startled her, and in her fright, Liza pressed down on the keys, eliciting a discordant noise from the piano. She winced even as she turned to face Rob's sister, who stood in her marshal's trousers and vest. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  "I’m a little jumpy after yesterday.” She took a breath and smiled. “I do play a little. I had lessons when I was a young girl. We've never had enough space to own one."

  A soft clacking on the wooden floors came from another room and quickly grew louder. A small... animal?

  "I think we've woken him up," Danna said with a wry smile.

  A brown puppy raced into the room, ears flopping and tongue flying out of the side of his mouth.

  "Watch out," Danna said as the puppy beelined for Liza. "He's a bit of a rascal."

  The pup jumped, placing its two front paws on Liza's knees, its tail wagging so hard it might've fallen over.

  "Oh, my." Liza lowered herself to the floor and folded her legs beneath her. The puppy tumbled into her lap, nosing into her skirts and then kicking its feet in the air.

  Liza rubbed its head, scratched its ears, and was rewarded with a warm scrub of its tongue. The puppy laid its head on her thigh, tail slapping gently against her foot.

  She scratched his ear again. "Oh, you are a dear, aren't you?"

  "Don't be fooled," Danna warned. "He'll bite your—"

  The puppy had already grabbed her sleeve in his razor-sharp teeth and was attempting to play tug of war.

  "Oh, you!" Liza used her other hand to disentangle herself with a laugh. She distracted the puppy with a tummy rub, resulting in him lying on his back on the floor, tongue lolling.

  Liza smiled down on the dog. It clambered back into her lap, this time resting its chin on her thigh and relaxing. "As a child, I always wanted a dog. But as I said, our rooms above the store are too small."