Solitary Horseman

by Camp, Deborah

  The trees swept up to them and Callum stopped Butter once they’d cleared the first ones. He shifted in the saddle to look all around him. Nothing. No movement anywhere. Then he heard it. A man’s deep, mocking laughter. Anger rose in him like bile. Where the hell was the coward? His eyes burned with the effort to see his tormentor through the leafy shadows and spears of sunlight.

  “Show yourself, dung heap!” he bellowed as he yanked on the reins to keep Butter from racing for home. He waited, listened, but heard only the sigh of the wind in the trees. After a few more seconds, he thought he caught the sound of distant hoof beats. “Damn it.” He patted Butter’s neck and let her move slowly forward.

  The rest of the way home, he kept watching and waiting, ready for another ambush, his rifle cocked and ready. His soldiering days returned and he tasted the coppery tang of fear in the back of his throat and felt his heart hammer sluggishly in his chest as his pulse filled his head with noise. It felt as if his eyes were too large for their sockets and that he couldn’t draw a decent breath. And he hated it. Hated being back there, being that man who lived moment to moment, dreading the next and thankful for the one just past.

  By the time he arrived home, he felt hollow inside and his sweet feelings for a girl with golden eyes seemed like a fool’s fantasy.

  Chapter 10

  The delicious aroma of beans and ham hock enveloped Banner as she stirred them in the big pot on the stove. The kitchen was nice and warm, even though the temperature outside was a few degrees above freezing. The harsh winds of winter had blown in overnight, ushering out fall and taking over. The dew on the grass had changed to sparkles of ice, glittering outrageously in the morning sun and almost blinding Banner when she’d ridden Pansy to the Latimer ranch.

  With breakfast behind her, she focused on the midday meal. Bean chowder, fried potatoes, cornbread, and applesauce cake. Two cakes cooled on the sideboard and three skillets of cornbread baked in the oven. The chowder was well on its way to being done, so it was time to get the potatoes peeled and sliced. She checked on the oven temperature and added more wood to the stove’s firebox before whirling around to go out to the back porch where potatoes were stored in a bin.

  “It sure smells good in here.”

  Swallowing a cry of alarm, Banner stared at the man who had stepped into her domain. Eller. What was he doing here? “Callum isn’t back yet as far as I know.” That her thoughts immediately went to Callum wasn’t lost on her. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but he had become her protector, her comfort. And with Eller standing so near her, she wished for Callum. But Seth had told her this morning that Callum had ridden into town before dawn. He hadn’t been at the breakfast table, and although a couple of the hands had asked about his business in town, Seth hadn’t offered any information about it.

  “What’s he doing in town anyway? Did you run out of something? Flour, sugar?” Eller drawled.

  “No.” The way he’d phrased that, as if sugar could be an endearment, rankled her. She wiped her hands on her apron as Eller removed his gloves and tucked them under his belt, regarding her as if he were going to bid on her. The kitchen walls seemed to close in on them. She leaned sideways to look past him. “I was just going out for some potatoes.”

  “You like working here?” he asked, his brown-eyed gaze lingering on her bosom.

  She stood her ground. “Would you please step aside, Eller?”

  “What’s your hurry?” He reached out and swiped at a drop of perspiration licking down her cheek.

  Banner flinched away from him and fear coated the back of her throat. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” He held out his hands in a show of innocence. “What’s got you so jumpy? We’re friends, honey lamb. Old friends. You and me used to run together. I thought about you when I went off to war and when I got back.”

  She frowned at him. Stinking liar. No wonder your woman is cheating on you. “I’m busy.” Swallowing her momentary alarm, she pressed the back of her hand against his upper arm and gave him a shove. “Get out of my way.”

  He moved quickly, his fingers wrapping around her wrist and yanking her to him. She stumbled, losing her balance for a moment as her body went from too warm to freezing cold. Drawing back from him, she tried to break his hold and it tightened as a darkly tinged smile curved his full lips.

  “Let go,” she huffed at him, pushing and pulling as a bubble of panic broke in her mind. A frantic pulse boomed in her ears and his raspy chuckle tipped her over the edge. When his hot breath bathed her face, she smelled coffee and tobacco. She lifted her foot, ready to knee him or give him a sharp kick in the shin.

  “Eller? Is that you I hear?”

  His grip loosened and Banner wrenched from his hold. The solid thump, thump! of Seth’s canes made the floor boards shutter. He emerged from the dining room with Rowdy trotting faithfully behind him and stopped on the threshold of the kitchen. His face was ruddy with the exertion of walking from the parlor to the kitchen. He took in the scene and scowled at Eller.

  “Hey there, Uncle Seth!” Eller laughed under his breath. “Good to see you.”

  Rowdy growled.

  “What the hell are you doing? There’s no cattle in here and it ain’t time for a meal.”

  Banner rolled her lips between her teeth to keep from grinning at the old devil. He rarely minced words.

  “Is Cal back?” Eller asked, ignoring the dog and his uncle’s barbed sarcasm.

  “You need him for something?”

  Eller folded his arms against his chest and stared down at his boots. “No, I was just asking. Me and Banner were catching up. We go way back, don’t we, hon?”

  Banner looked from him to Seth Latimer, unsure of how to respond without screaming or cussing a blue streak. Luckily, Seth wasn’t interested in her response.

  He jerked his chin in a “move it” motion. “Find your way back to work and say your ‘howdies’ on your own time.”

  Eller lowered his brows and glared at his uncle. Seth glared back at him, as unmovable as a mountain. Rowdy showed his teeth. After another handful of seconds, Eller managed a half-hearted laugh. “Hey now, I got work to do. See you two later.” Then he sauntered out as if it were his idea and he hadn’t been ordered by his uncle to make tracks.

  Releasing a long breath, Banner shook her head and went out onto the porch for the potatoes. She heard Eller’s horse gallop away and tension released her neck and shoulders. Coming back into the kitchen, she was surprised to see Seth still planted in the kitchen doorway.

  “Do you need help getting back into the parlor? It’s too cold to sit out on the porch, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t need any help.” He patted Rowdy’s head and the red-and-white speckled dog wagged his big, floppy tail.

  Dropping the armload of potatoes onto the table, she dropped a sigh along with them. “I didn’t want Eller in here.”

  “You two used to be sweet on each other.”

  “That’s not true,” she snapped.

  “It ain’t?” His white, bushy brows inched up his forehead.

  “He called on me a few times, but we weren’t . . .” She shook her head. “It was nothing like that. If he says any different, then he’s a liar.”

  Seth puckered his lips and wagged them from side to side. She’d noticed that he did that on the rare occasions when he actually did mince words.

  “He has some troublesome traits.”

  She grabbed a paring knife and went to work on the potatoes. Troublesome, yes. Eller Hawkins was nothing but trouble.

  “You’re a good cook.”

  His compliment startled her and she almost cut her finger. Realizing that she was staring, open-mouthed, at him, she snapped her teeth together. “Thank you.”

  “Sunday is my boy’s birthday and I was thinking you could cook up a special supper for him and maybe a cake. He’s partial to that molasses and raisin cake you made awhile back.”

  Happiness arched through her and she tri
ed not to grin from ear to ear. “I’d be happy to do that. How old will he be?”

  “Twenty-eight.”

  “Do you think he’d like a beef roast or fried chicken?”

  “He’s a cattle rancher, not a chicken raiser.”

  She nodded, almost jittery inside with anticipation. Callum’s birthday! And she’d be able to celebrate it with him. “Roast it is then. So, will it be the ranch hands or will you invite others?”

  “All the ranch hands and Mary. Callum doesn’t want a lot made of it. He doesn’t even want me to tell anyone.” He wiggled his mouth again. “I say we celebrate every year we’re given.”

  The backstory of his sentiment twisted her heart. This frowning, grumpy man had lost his beloved wife and all but one of his children in a brief span of time. New seeds of understanding for him sprouted in her heart.

  “I won’t breathe a word of it,” she assured him. “And the meal will be mouth-watering.”

  He bobbed his head and gripped his canes more firmly. “Come on, Rowdy, let’s let her get on with her work.”

  “Thank you. I’ll bring a cup of fresh coffee to you shortly.” She went back to peeling the potatoes, smiling to herself as she began planning what she’d cook for Callum’s birthday. After a few moments, she sensed that Seth hadn’t left the kitchen. Glancing up, she caught him staring at her over his shoulder.

  He cleared his throat and faced away from her again, lifting one cane as he started making his way out of the kitchen. But he turned his head sideways and flung back at her, “Much obliged, Banner.”

  Her breathing stopped for a heartbeat or two as she stared after him in stunned amazement. He’d just thanked her and he’d said her name! She’d worked on the ranch for a couple of months and he had never spoken her name in her presence. She was the cook, that girl, the Payne gal, her. But just now she’d been Banner.

  “It’s a miracle,” she whispered as she peeled another potato, but couldn’t for the life of her peel the beaming grin off her face.

  ###

  Leaving the house after the midday meal, Callum rode side by side with Ben Echohawk as they headed out to continue rounding up cattle. Tomorrow they would separate the calves from their mothers to get an accurate count, check them over, and brand them.

  “We can probably get them all into pens in a couple of days,” Ben said, reading his mind. “Still have some that are bred that belong to the Paynes. You watch, those cows will wait to drop their calves on the coldest night of the year.”

  Callum nodded, but his thoughts drifted back to his pre-dawn trip into town where he’d sent a telegram to the Texas Rangers and told the sheriff about being shot at and the rising unrest in and around Piney Ridge. He wanted it on record so that if the next bullet ended his life, someone in law enforcement would know that it was murder and not an accident. And he wanted to be sure that the sheriff understood that hot-heads were stirring up trouble.

  He’d stopped in at the hotel café for breakfast where he met up with a few of the town’s business owners. After telling them about being shot at, he’d talked frankly with them about his concerns – the lynchings, the exaggerations about Indian raids, and the hatred that seemed to be near a boiling point. He’d stopped in to a few other businesses owned by men he considered intelligent and reasonable. They’d agreed with him that getting people riled up over tall tales of cattle stealing Indians and land stealing freed slaves and Yankees wouldn’t keep their loved ones safe. If anything, it would place them in more danger.

  “I told her I wasn’t going to see her like that again,” Ben said.

  Callum glanced at him, so deep in his own thoughts that it took him a few moments to understand Ben’s comment. Lilah. He must have taken his silence for reluctance to bring up the subject of Ben’s illicit affair. “That’s good to hear. Have you kept your word?”

  “Yep, though it hasn’t been easy. Like I said, Cal, the woman touches my heart. I could love her. I might already.”

  “She has a husband.”

  Ben’s lips thinned, but he didn’t argue the point.

  “I was shot at yesterday.”

  Ben’s gaze snapped to him. “Who?”

  “Don’t know. Bastard stayed hid. If I hadn’t moved when I did, the bullet would have caught me in the back of the head.”

  Ben released a spate of Comanche. Some of the words Callum knew from his years with Ki and Mary’s sons. They were mostly things you didn’t say in mixed company.

  “Who do you think? One of those cowhands you let go?”

  “Johnson and Baines are first on my list if they’re still in these parts. I was in town this morning and I asked around, but nobody has seen them in a couple of weeks. Word is they found work on a ranch in the next county.”

  “Did you tell your father?”

  “Not yet. But I will.”

  “I will be your second set of eyes, my brother.”

  Callum reached across and landed a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Keep your eyes peeled for yourself, too. This crazy talk about Indians riding into towns and shooting up businesses and homes, stealing cattle, and setting fire to barns has some people itching to shoot anyone who isn’t pearly white.”

  “Hating comes easy for some.”

  Callum squeezed his shoulder before letting go. “It’s getting worse. You know what they were doing at that barbecue, don’t you?”

  Ben nodded. “I know.”

  “I’ve talked to Ki and Mary about it. Eller is right in the damned middle of it. Tell your brothers not to trust him. I’m going to have a talk with him and if his attitude doesn’t change, I’m letting him go.” He looked at Ben to drive home his point. “Eller is a big talker, but he’s the kind of man who wants others to get their hands dirty. But if he thinks you’re screwing his wife, he will kill you, Ben.”

  “Lilah and I are done, Callum. She has not tried to contact me since I told her I would not see her again unless she ends her marriage.”

  Callum bit back a curse. “You know that’s not going to happen, Ben, so why put it in her head? It’s like showing a wild animal a hole in its cage that’s too small to fit through. It’ll torment the creature and might even drive it crazy.”

  He’d never known Ben to act so foolish. That’s what lust . . . perhaps love . . . did to a man. It was hard for him to believe that Ben could actually be in love with Lilah, but he supposed it was possible. She had a way about her that made a man feel needed. He had come to know her better than most and he’d realized she only appeared to be frail and fluttery like a baby chick. In truth, she was as cunning as a fox and about as frail as an armadillo.

  “What’s going on between you and the cook? Heard you took her to the barbecue.”

  Callum clenched his jaw. Damn it, he didn’t want to talk about this. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But it was Ben, and Ben had been honest with him about his tender feelings for Lilah.

  “I took her to the barbecue, yeah. She wanted to go and I was planning on going, so . . .” He shrugged off the rest of his pitiful explanation.

  “She’s a pretty thing.”

  White-hot possessiveness zigzagged through him like lightning and he speared Ben with a glare that took both of them by surprise. Ben’s dark eyes widened before he broke out in a toothy grin.

  “You like her, don’t you?” Ben chuckled and nodded, his dark eyes dancing. “Yeah, you do.”

  “She’s likeable,” Callum allowed. “She’s a good cook and she’s bullied my pa into moving around under his own steam. This morning before I lit out, Pa practically dressed himself. I only had to help him with his boots.”

  “It would not be a terrible thing if you liked her for more than her vittles and taking good care of your father.”

  “My time is filled with running this ranch.”

  Ben gave an exaggerated shrug followed by a long sigh. “But the ranch does nothing for the hard root between your legs.”

  Callum shook his head. “Maybe that’s what’s between
your legs, but mine is more like a log.”

  Ben tipped his head back and hooted at the clouds passing by. Grinning, Callum tapped Butter’s sides with his boot heels and galloped away from Ben’s good-natured laughter.

  ###

  Later that afternoon, Callum rode onto Payne land. He spotted Eller and Shane rousting a few head of cattle out of a ravine and was relieved to see that his cousin was actually working. He would have cut him loose weeks ago if Eller hadn’t been blood related. And then there was Lilah. She wanted to remain close to her parents, who had held onto a small parcel of land from their pre-war original thousand acres. Without steady work, Eller most likely would take to wandering, dragging Lilah with him. Their marriage was already unsteady and that kind of unrest would surely sever it for good.

  That wasn’t his worry or his business, but he still felt a niggling responsibility. He’d known Lilah’s parents for most of his life and they took comfort in having Lilah near.

  He angled Butter away from the ravine and in the direction of the sounds of a mooing herd. Topping the ridge, he pulled his horse to a halt and stared at the rolling land before him and the big herd being tended by Hollis and a few of the other cowhands. They were moving the cattle toward two large pens where they’d separate the mamas from their calves. Tomorrow they’d rope the calves and brand them. Eyeing the herd from his vantage point and counting in the stragglers Eller and Shane were rounding up, he figured Ben was right. It would take two days to get the job done.

  Lifting his gaze, he squinted against the sunlight. He could barely make out the outline of the Payne house in the distance, circled by shade trees and scrub pines. He wondered if Banner thought of him every time she went up the porch steps and when she opened and closed her front door. He’d been proud to make those repairs, even though he knew she had to swallow her pride to accept them.