Rachel ran at his back, beating him with her fists. Tater, alarmed, came from his .room, saw Rachel hitting a strange man, and threw himself into the fray just as Hartly was about to take hold of Rachel.
From the corner of her eye, she saw bared teeth and fur attack Hartly. Between the force of the dog fully extended hitting his chest, and Tater getting in solid kicks, Hartly went down.
The dog had his teeth sunk deep into his gun arm. Tater kicked at Hartly’s hand to get him to release the gun. Laine beat him wherever she could reach. Rachel tossed the hot coffee over his head, then beat him with the pot. Between growls, howls, Rachel’s screaming, and Laine’s swearing, Matt’s arrival went unnoticed.
Sizing the ruckus in a second, Matt yelled for quiet.
“Perdition, Laine! Stop. Remind me not to take the three of you on.” He ripped the gun from Hartly’s hand, ordered the dog to cease, and grabbed hold of Tater by the back of his shirt collar. “Enough!” He pushed the boy at Laine, shoved the gun in back of his belt, then dragged Hartly out by his bootheels.
“We ain’t got a woodshed handy, but I’ll make do.”
Matt lifted Hartly by his shirtfront. “Scum. Fighting a woman and children like some rabid skunk.” He began slapping Hartly, but his blood was up, and the next time hit him with his fist. Then again, and once more.
He could see blood well from his torn shirt where the dog had bit him. His face was a mess of red welts and he couldn’t straighten one leg.
Matt didn’t have an ounce of pity for Hartly. He had attacked what was his. He wasn’t living to tell about it. Matt was disgusted that he wouldn’t put up a fight.
He switched the gun to his front. Taking hold of Hartly’s gunbelt, Matt dragged him across the clearing, down along the path, and all the way to the spit of land at the edge of the swamp.
“You can’t …”
“I can. I will. You’ll never attack a woman again.”
Matt punched him hard. The loud splash was sure to attract attention. Not the kind Hartly wanted, but Matt wasn’t giving him a choice.
He walked back slowly. He wasn’t ready to face Laine.
And if he expected a hero’s welcome, or any kind of welcome, he was to be disappointed.
Tater was outside, sitting on the grass, sniffling and hugging his dog.
Matt ran when he saw him. “Where are you hurt?”
“Hurt? I ain’t hurt. Laine lit into me but good for helping Rachel and her. She said I didn’t have a lick of sense. I’m gonna grow up to be a beef-witted, maggot brain. Just like you.”
“Like me?”
“Yeah, that’s what she said.”
Matt grinned. “It’s nice to be appreciated.”
“You won’t think so when she gets done tearing a strip of your hide.”
“Is that where Laine is, tearing a strip of Rachel?”
“Oh, no.” He scrubbed his sleeve over his face. “I got sent out here while she deals with the … the vapors.”
“Laine’s got vapors?”
“Rachel. But Laine didn’t yell at Capt. Tate. He got pets and praise from her.”
Matt choked back a laugh. “Son, women are notional creatures at best. You figure they’ll do one thing, and sure as the sun rises, they’ll do another.”
“With two sisters I don’t reckon I’ll want to deal with women for a long, long time.”
Matt patted his shoulder. “If it gives you comfort, keep thinking that way.” He moved past him.
“You going in?”
“I’m going in.”
“Matt, did you throw him in the swamp?”
“I was mad. Still am. No excuse. But it’s the truth.”
“Laine said she hoped you did just that.”
“Your sister is a woman who knows her own mind.”
“I think she would’ve shot him if she could’ve gotten her gun.”
“And she’d be in the right. That man could’ve hurt any one of you. All of you. There are times when you fight to protect what’s yours and times when you think hard about what you risk losing before jumping in. Doing anything full of temper makes for poor decisions. I know.”
“I’m glad you’re around, Matt. It’s easy to talk to you.”
“Anytime.” The coffeepot lay where Rachel had dropped it. The mantle and shelves were empty, so Matt sent Tater to get coffee from his saddlebag. He stirred up the fire and filled the pot with water from the bucket.
He stood in the doorway waiting for coffee, hoping it was ready before he had to confront Laine. A long, sleepless night hadn’t brought him any closer to knowing what to say to her.
“I see you made yourself at home.” Laine regretted her snappish tone the moment she spoke. But anger and fear were keeping her at a fever pitch, and she wasn’t sure how to cope.
Matt slowly turned around to face her. “I made the coffee, which I thought we could all use. If you consider that overstepping your hospitality, I apologize.”
The calm, quiet tone, the steady, unreadable gaze were Matt and yet weren’t the man she knew.
Laine couldn’t hold his gaze. “I’m the one who apologizes. I shouldn’t have said that. Not to you.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” There was no point in saying words that would put her back up. She was visibly upset. He would not add to it.
“Did he say why he was here?”
She shook her head, watching the coffeepot. “Never had a chance to say anything. I saw him come in and went after him.”
“Right. Armed with a piece of wood against a drawn gun.”
Her face lost its drawn look and her eyes flashed silver storms at him. “Should I have waited until he attacked my sister so I could get my gun and shoot him?”
“I didn’t say that!”
“Stop yelling at me!”
“I’m not … oh, hell, Laine, he could’ve shot you.”
“I know. I know.”
He wasn’t sure who moved first, but she turned to him, and he went forward, and then she was in his arms, shaking like a leaf in a storm, but not crying. She was where she belonged, and that’s all that mattered to him.
“I was afraid when I …”
“Hush. It’s done. He’s gone. And you were right to want out of here. Come sit. We’ll have coffee, then I’ll load the mules.”
She did as he wanted, but the guilt preyed on her. She knew he was aware of what happened at his home, and that she had known. Laine was afraid to bring it into the open, which went against her innate honesty. Yet, beyond those few moments when she thought him a stranger, he was her Matt again: taking charge, offering quiet comfort, just being there for her.
But she didn’t know what he thought, if he would forgive her, or where they stood.
Laine couldn’t make herself ask him.
After the morning’s incident, they were all anxious to leave. Matt had enough willing hands to make short work of getting ready.
Just shy of noon, they mounted and rode out.
Laine prayed time and distance would heal all wounds.
Rachel, although shaken, vowed to help make this new start a good one.
Tater, riding with Capt. Tate loping alongside, daydreamed about all the new things he’d be learning and seeing.
And Matt, well, he knew he had a few days’ grace to make a final decision, one that could cost him everything he ever wanted.
Chapter Nineteen
Matt kept their trip to easy stages, using less-traveled roads, making frequent stops, putting up a camp early each evening. The care he had taken had added three additional days to their arrival in Fort Worth, but he saw they all rode without the discomfort of the first few days. After all, they were not accustomed to sitting a saddle for long hours.
/> He had stopped and asked a drover holding a herd of cattle outside of town if there was a boarding house for ladies, and it was to there that he headed. Laine and Rachel would appreciate hot baths, clean clothes, and real beds to sleep in. Tater had taken to camping like a trooper. He’d likely balk at the thought of having to take a bath.
Right now, he rode alongside Matt, his eyes round with wonder.
“There’s hundreds of people here, Matt.”
“Well, it’s bigger than Cedar Bend, for sure.”
“Where’s the fort?”
“Up on the bluff. See the picket fence. But I heard the soldiers left the buildings. People camp there with tents and wagons.”
“Is that where we’re headed?”
“A boarding house for ladies. Over behind the courthouse square.”
There was a constant flow of people walking along on the boardwalks, into and out of the hardware store, the mercantiles and saloons. There was a livery stable and a separate blacksmith shop, and hotels. Matt rode with his hand on his thigh, near his gun. He constantly scanned the crowd, looking for familiar faces, unfriendly ones, too. But he saw no one he knew.
“Wow, Matt! They got a whole store just for groceries, and it’s got big windows. Matt, what’s a c-a-f-e?”
“An eating place.”
“You mean people cook for you?”
“Sure. Not everyone’s lucky to have cooks like your sisters. Even if they do, it’s a treat to sit back and have someone else cook and serve you.”
They arrived at the boarding house, a large white clapboard two story with rocking chairs on the wide front porch and a path lined with pretty flowers. The place was shaded by ancient cottonwood trees.
“Ladies, this is where you and Tater board. I’ll head over to the livery with the pack animals.”
“Where are you staying?” Laine asked as she dismounted before Matt could help her. He had suggested she pack a carpetbag with clean clothing and sundry items they would need.
“There’s plenty of places for me to get a room. I’ll be back in a few hours. If you like, we can have supper in town. But first I want to pick up a couple of horses for you and Rachel. These are about done for.”
A middle-aged woman, neatly gowned with a starched white apron, stood in the open doorway. “Help you folks?” She didn’t seem to find Rachel’s and Laine’s men’s clothing exceptional.
“These ladies need rooms. Do you want one for Tater?” he asked Laine.
“Only have one room available for tonight. How old’s the boy?”
“I’m nine.”
“That’s acceptable. Don’t allow them older than ten. Cause a ruckus otherwise.”
Laine looked helplessly at Matt. She didn’t want to be apart. Even if they had no time alone, Matt’s doing not hers, she didn’t want to see him go. But she untied the bag, gave him a sad smile, and motioned to her sister.
“Don’t make me go with them, Matt. I’ll be no trouble for you. ’Sides, she ain’t about to let Capt. Tate inside.”
Matt figured Tater was right, and he didn’t see the harm. He told Laine her brother would be with him. He gathered the women’s horses’ reins while Tater took the two mules. They had found Hartly’s horse and brought him along. Matt intended selling the horse and gear, all but the rifle. That he had kept.
“Livery first. Then we’ll get a room.”
Unlike the livery at the settlement, this was a series of sprawling buildings with a few smaller sheds. There were several hostlers from old timers to young men. Matt quickly arranged stabling for his stock, then asked about horses for sale.
“Need to see old man Miller. He just bought some green broke stock. Out back.”
“Tater, you keep hold of the dog. We don’t want to spook any horses.”
There were several men standing near one of four corrals. As Matt drew closer, he saw about fifteen horses milling about. This time it was Matt who pinned his gaze on one horse and wanted no other. The animal had Arab blood from the small, nearly perfectly compacted body, the dainty shaped head with dark, large liquid eyes full of intelligence. Matt hadn’t realized he was gripping the pole of the fence until Tater nudged him.
“That horse sure is pretty. Almost the same color as Laine’s eyes.”
“Noticed that, too? You’ve got a good eye.”
The horse’s coat was shades of grey that fell to four black stockings with a silky black mane and long sweeping tail. “That horse never came off any range.”
“You’ve got a good eye, stranger.” The man offered his hand. “Dan Miller. This here’s my place.”
“Coltrane. Matt Coltrane.” He appreciated the man’s firm grip. A solidly built man with a ready smile and a twinkle in his blue eyes, his mustache and dark hair held strands of silver.
“I’m Tater, and this is Capt. Tate.”
Miller took the boy’s extended hand. “Pleased. He’s a fine looking dog.”
Matt listened to them, but watched the grey rippling hide as the horse moved in the corral. “How much?”
“Coltrane, you said?”
Matt tensed. Were his recent escapades already catching up with him?
“Coltrane?” Miller thoughtfully repeated. “Fella by that name took a herd up Wyoming way for a friend of mine a few years back.”
“Harry Crispin.”
“That be he. Broke some horses for him, too. Said he was mighty sorry to see you move on.”
“He’s a good man. A good boss, too. So how much for the pretty mare?”
“A man with a good stallion could start breeding fine horses with her. And you’re right. She didn’t come off the range. Fella who sold her tried spinning some tale of these horses coming off a planation he bought up near Shreveport. I made like I swallowed his line, but he lied. Couldn’t remember the name of the place or the owner. Since you worked for Harry, him being a particular friend of mine, I’ll let you have her for what I paid. Two fifty.”
It took Tater a minute or two to figure the man meant two hundred and fifty dollars. “Oh, wow!”
“Even with the horses and gear I have to trade that’s too rich for my blood. Couldn’t swing that much.”
“Got someone special in mind to ride her?”
“My sister,” Tater answered. “The older one. There’s two of them.”
Matt looked over the other horses. He had a feeling that he buried about these horses.
“What do you think about the roan for Rachel?”
“Me?” Tater asked.
“You.”
“She’s mighty fine looking, too. But don’t you need to ride them?”
“Eventually. If I can make a deal.” But as he continued to look at the horses, Matt knew there wasn’t a green broke bronc among them.
He turned to see that Miller was watching him. He knew when Matt realized these were schooled saddle horses.
“Kid out front said you had just bought broncs.”
“Far corral. No scrubs.”
“What’s a scrub?”
“Son,” Miller answered, “that’s a horse, and I use the term loosely, that you can’t tell what he came from.”
“What are you paying to break them?”
“Ten dollars a head. There’s eleven in that bunch. Like I said, they’re green broke.”
“What’s that?” Tater asked.
This time Matt answered him. “Some man tossed a rope over his head, stubbed him to a tree, threw a bridle and saddle on him, jumped on board, got the heck bucked out of him and likely landed flat on his back. But he could call the horse green broke.”
They had started walking to the far corral. “You gonna break horses, Matt?”
“I don’t break a horse, Tater. I try to gain their trust. Where we’re riding, a man has to depend on his horse, and the horse needs to trust his rider. If you kill his spirit, you have less than a sorry hack to ride. My way takes longer, but gets a better res
ult. What do you say, Miller, we got a deal?”
“You’re on. I’ll fetch a rope.”
“Don’t need one.”
“Don’t need …”
“Nope.”
That afternoon, watching Matt, Tater began a love affair with horses that would last a lifetime. Miller had him sit back from the corral fence. He never took his gaze from Matt. He watched and noted every move and how the horses responded.
Matt talked softly to them, his motions easy, no sudden moves to spook them. He blew in their nostrils, scratched around ears, under their manes, and rubbed noses. He petted and praised, some more than others. A few shied from him, but most were familiar with man smell. Every little while, he’d brace his hands on the horse’s back to lift his weight up. The move never lasted longer than a few seconds.
Miller had Matt’s requested bucket of grain brought. He set it within reach of Matt’s long arm, but out of the reach of the horses. If a horse let Matt single him out to walk around the corral holding his mane, he was rewarded with a handful of grain. Soon Matt had only to touch a horse and he’d follow him. A few of the more aggressive ones took to nudging Matt’s back as if to hurry him along.
“Never seen the like, boy.”
“He’s real good, isn’t he? I’m gonna be just like him when I grow up.” Tater’s chest swelled with pride.
“That’s a fine man. Back to home we’d say watch how a man treats his horse ’cause that’s how he’ll treat folks.”
They had attracted a crowd of hanger-ons and drifters. Miller made sure they stayed well back not to disturb Matt.
Matt used the bracing move more often, for longer and longer periods of time. He kept going back to a large-boned chestnut who snuffed Matt’s shoulder, then his neck.
“Ready, boy?” Matt whispered. He took hold of the mane and swung himself onto the animal’s back. In seconds he was off and the chestnut had his reward. Within the hour, Matt mounted and stayed. He nudged the horse with his heels to walk around the corral.
“Boy, I’m seeing it, but I can’t believe my own eyes.”
“But we did see it.”
It was full dark when Matt quit. He was exhausted.
The Homecoming Page 16
