Lance gave his horse a nudge and pointed him toward the valley. Mahto ran ahead of him, leading the way as usual. If only life were as easy as it was for his dog, who didn’t have a care in the world.
He shook his head. He should have simply declined Hawley’s invitation and offered to meet Tyler and Laney in private before they left to head home to Bozeman. Too late now to back out. Time to get it over with and pay a visit to his former boss. At least it would give him a chance to feel out Tyler about his job offer, and then he could focus on what had become the most important thing in his life – Ellie.
“Sorry, but you’ve got to stay here with the horses.”
Lance pointed Mahto to his saddle that he’d tossed in front of the stall the wrangler had offered him for his gelding.
“He can keep me company while I feed and water the guest horses,” the kid had said, smiling at Lance.
“Tell him to stay. He’ll mind.”
Mahto stood by the saddle, wagging his tail at his new friend, but keeping his eyes on Lance.
“Believe me, I’d much rather be here with you than go up to that house,” he mumbled, then gave his dog a final pat and headed out of the barn.
He glanced around, breathing in the smells of horses, fresh hay, and the damp earth from the rains the other day. Trace Hawley certainly owned an impressive ranch, even more impressive than Tyler’s Double M. The barns appeared to be kept in immaculate condition. Fences were in top repair and lined both sides of the path that led to the house. He could get used to working here, if Hawley should ask him, and if the foreman’s position on the Double M was no longer available.
Lance’s stomach growled as aromas of various kinds drifted through the air. Laughter and muffled voices became louder the closer he came to the house. With each step he took, the urge to turn around and ride away grew stronger.
He could be at the Circle P right now, on Patterson’s porch with Ellie, watching the sun set. His hand went to his neck to loosen the confining tie again. He frowned. He was doing this because of her, because this was his chance to ask for the job that had been offered to him months ago.
Lance stepped onto the porch and knocked on the door. Almost instantly, it swung open and two young boys greeted him. He blinked, staring into the face of a boy whose skin tone matched his own. He was perhaps a year younger than Lance had been when he’d been removed from the reservation and sent to the Indian School.
“I’m here at Trace Hawley’s invitation,” Lance blurted. The boys stood staring at him.
“Jonah. Andy. Are you two hiding from Rose again? You’re supposed to be helping watch the other kids.”
A man came up to the door, glaring at the boys.
“Yes, Pa,” the dark-skinned boy said, then grinned at his companion and nudged him in the arm. Together, they scurried down the hall. The man shook his head and smiled indulgently.
“Boys,” he mumbled, then directed his attention to Lance. He stepped back and motioned with his hand for him to enter, then offered it for a shake.
“I’m Cade,” he introduced himself. “You must be the fella Tyler’s been going on about.”
“Lance Taggart.” Lance matched the man’s strong grip and held his gaze. He was being sized up by dark and perceptive eyes. There wasn’t a hint of any unfriendliness in his stare, however. Lance stared back. This man was the Indian boy’s father?
“Trace is in his study with the rest of the men. I was on my way to check and see how the ladies were coming along with supper preparations and to tell them the meat out on the fire is done.” A hint of a smile materialized on his face. “I’ll take you to him.”
Cade led the way down the hall and entered a large room that looked almost like a library, with a wall-to-wall bookcase on one side, a stone fireplace in one corner, and paintings of horses on the walls. Several men stood in front of the hearth, talking.
Trace Hawley looked up at that moment, then motioned for Lance to step further into the room.
“I see you’ve met Cade,” he greeted with a wide smile. “Some day, you can ask him about his given name.”
To the other man, Hawley said, “Lance Taggart is the man I’ve told you about. He worked for Tyler before Patterson snatched him up. Before I could even make him an offer, he was already at the Circle P.”
Cade leaned forward. “You wouldn’t want to work for this guy, Taggart. He runs a tight ship. No fun at all here at the Red Cliff.” He winked, before moving back to the door. “I’d best go see Laura and find out about supper.”
“If anyone runs a tight ship, it’s my wife. Katie said supper would be at six, and it won’t be a minute earlier,” Trace called after the other man.
Cade waved him off and disappeared around the corner. Lance stared after him. “He has a son who’s part Indian?”
Trace Hawley chuckled, and led him to where two other men stood. “He does. I’ll let him fill you in on his family history. This here is Ethan Mallory, my brother-in-law, and our friend, Levi Colter.”
Lance shook each of the men’s hands. Ethan wore a friendly smile, and Levi Colter looked more like a man who lived in the mountains rather than on a ranch. His straw-colored hair reached to his shoulders, and he wore fringed buckskin britches with a homespun wool shirt. A large knife, much like Lance’s, hung from a sheath at his hip.
None of these men were what Lance had expected. No one dressed in a fancy, three-piece suit or looked with disapproval down their noses at him. They were all easy-going, casual men, and to his surprise, not much older than himself. Why’d he listen to Stubbs and wear these fancy duds? He was decidedly overdressed.
“Lance is one of the best horse trainers around, according to Tyler,” Trace said. “If you ever think about leaving Patterson’s place, and want to consider coming to work for me, you’ve got a job.”
Ethan Mallory chuckled. “Don’t let John hear you say that. Or Tyler. I heard him saying that he was real sorry you left. You must have one helluva knack with horses, Lance. Ty doesn’t usually speak so highly of wranglers.”
A high-pitched squeal from behind him prevented Lance from saying that Tyler was exaggerating. He spun on his heels toward the door to the room.
“Lance Taggart, you actually showed up.”
An older woman with long, blonde hair flowing freely down her back rushed toward him. Her stylish blue dress swished around her legs as she closed the distance between them and opened her arms. With a wide smile on her face, she threw her arms around his neck.
“Laney, it’s good to see you.”
Laney Monroe pulled back, still smiling broadly. “I was hoping you’d change your mind and come back to the Double M. I still have a race to win against you, remember?” She winked.
Lance chuckled. Laney Monroe loved nothing better than to ride horses on the open range, and challenge the wranglers to race with her. He’d beaten her each time she’d called him out. The dress she wore, although flattering, was not her usual choice of clothing. He’d never seen her in anything but britches and shirts like her husband wore.
“I recall you lost by barely a nose the last time.” He grinned.
“Yes, but I still lost.” She laughed. “The place isn’t the same without you. With both Troy and Beth at school back east, I need someone I can give a hard time.”
“Seems like you do just fine keeping busy with giving me a hard time.” Tyler Monroe walked into the room, holding out his hand for Lance to shake. Following on his heels was another older man and John Patterson. Lance’s brows shot up.
“Taggart, I wasn’t expecting you here,” his employer said, equally surprised.
“I invited him, John,” Trace Hawley chimed in. “Figured he’d like to visit with Tyler and Laney before they head home.”
“Well, as long as none of you steal him away from me.” Patterson chuckled, but held up his hand, wagging his finger in the air. Both Tyler Monroe and Trace Hawley coughed at the same time.
The other man standing nex
t to Patterson remained silent and made no effort to introduce himself. He was the only one in the room who gave the impression that Lance was beneath him.
“This is Albert Wilkins,” Patterson introduced. Lance held out his hand, but the older man didn’t shake it. He held the man’s cold stare, until Patterson cleared his throat.
“Cade’s looking after the meat in the pit outside.” Tyler’s voice cut through the tension. “I think the ladies are almost ready to announce that dinner’s ready.” He stepped up to Laney and placed a kiss on her cheek.
“Don’t look at me like that, Tyler Monroe,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “I did my share of the preparations. I helped set the table.”
Lance smiled. It was common knowledge at the Double M that Laney wasn’t a woman who liked to spend much time in the kitchen.
“I suppose if we all head outside, it might speed my wife and the other women along,” Trace suggested. The others nodded and followed him from the study and out the back door.
Lance walked alongside Tyler. Would now be a good time to bring up the foreman’s position? Not with Patterson so close. Tables had been set up in the yard and lanterns were lit to give off a warm glow of light in the early evening. Dusk was just beginning to settle into the valley. Cade, surrounded by a horde of young children, stood bent over a steaming pit in the ground. A woman set a basket on one of the tables, then turned to head back into the house.
“Ellie?” he mumbled.
His pulse increased with the realization that she was here.
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder before he could move toward her. Lance glanced to his side. He frowned at the grin on Tyler Monroe’s face. His former boss leaned toward him and whispered.
“I think I see the reason why you got thrown from that horse the last time I saw you.” He nudged his chin in Ellie’s direction, his lips twitching in a smile. He shot a hasty glance over his shoulder, then added. “I never would have guessed it was Patterson’s niece, but if anyone can talk to her, I have a feeling it’s you.”
Lance stared at his former employer. Apparently, Tyler had met Ellie, or at least heard about her inability to speak.
“I want to talk to you about something, but I’d better let Ellie know I’m here.”
Tyler chuckled. “Of course.” He slapped Lance’s back.
Laney stared at him as he rushed past her and called Ellie’s name.
She stopped in her tracks and spun around so fast, she nearly fell. Lance reached out to steady her, and smiled.
“If I’d have known you were going to be here, I would have asked to escort you.”
Her eyes were wide and round, filled with surprise and happiness as she stared up at him.
You’re here, she signed.
“You’re here, too.” He chuckled. His eyes roamed over her face. The slight breeze lifted strands of her hair from her neck. It took all his self-control not to reach out and press a kiss behind her ear.
“You look real nice,” he murmured. She wore one of her customary high-collared dresses that concealed the scar on her neck, but it was a much fancier dress than what he’d seen her wear before.
“Do you suppose this is our first outing together in public, since we’re both here at the same time?” He reached for her hand and took a step closer. Letting others know that she was spoken for, that he’d laid claim to her, became more important as the seconds ticked by.
She pulled her hand from his to sign.
I’d like that. I want other people to know that we’re courting. I love you.
Her smile was radiant.
“Thečhíȟila yeló.” Lance crossed his wrists over his heart, curling his fingers into fists. The Lakota words flowed easily from his tongue. “I want you to know in every way I can tell you that I love you, Ellie.”
“He’s been teaching Ellie how to communicate with her hands.” Patterson’s voice drifted closer from somewhere behind them. “He’s been a great help to her. Fiona and I are glad that her father brought her to stay with us.”
Lance held Ellie’s gaze as he waited for Tyler and Patterson to approach, along with Trace. He reached for her hand again. The urge to sweep Ellie into his arms and whisk her off somewhere so they could be alone had never been greater.
“It’s nice to see you again, Miss Ellie,” Trace said. “I hope your father can do something to help his sister in Kentucky. Last I heard from my cousin, Sam, both Lizzy Benton and her farm are in bad shape.”
John Patterson chuckled. “Edward Benton ran a tight command at Fort Peck, from what I’ve been told. There’s no doubt he’ll be able to straighten out his sister-in-law’s affairs in Kentucky.”
Lance tensed. Ellie flinched and pulled her hand back as his grip on her tightened involuntarily. Her forehead scrunched in puzzlement, her questioning gaze on him.
Edward Benton? Lance stared at Ellie. Benton? His heart dropped into his gut as if he’d been kicked by a horse. He’d never considered her surname before, but of course she wouldn’t have John Patterson’s last name since she was his wife’s niece. No one had ever mentioned it in his presence, and it had never been important.
The pounding of his pulse in his ears increased, drowning out the talk around him. Edward Benton. The name seemed to pound into him with each beat of his heart, and the tension grew in his body.
What’s wrong?
Ellie tilted her head to look at him. He shook his head. What was he supposed to say to her? Edward Benton was a name he hadn’t allowed into his mind in many years. Hatred and anger had welled up inside him each time he’d heard it in the past. Now it stared him in the face in the form of his daughter? It seemed unreal that the man who had taken everything from him was also responsible for giving him everything he now cared about.
Edward Benton raided my mother’s village
Lance made the signs for Ellie to see. He couldn’t speak the words out loud at the moment.
“I need to go check on my horse,” he mumbled. He needed to get away, needed to clear his head.
Without looking at Ellie further, he offered a quick excuse to the men. He couldn’t be in the company of all these people right now. His legs carried him to the barn, but he was barely aware of how he’d gotten there. Mahto greeted him with his tail wagging.
Lance threw his saddle on the gelding and rode from the yard. He nudged the animal in the sides, and the horse broke into a gallop. Cool wind whipped around his head as the horse gained speed. Lance urged the animal on, riding into the surrounding darkness, his mind filled with anger and confusion. Mahto barked somewhere alongside him.
Ellie, the woman he loved more with each day that went by, was the daughter of the man responsible for the raid on his village that had killed his mother. He shook his head, the cold wind clearing the anger in his mind with each mile he put behind him.
It was inconceivable that the man he'd hated for so long was Ellie's father. Did it matter? He loved her. He sat back in the saddle and drew back on the reins. He’d covered a lot of miles already, riding into the hills away from the Red Cliff Ranch. The horse beneath him breathed heavily as it slowed, until it came to a walk.
Mahto barked next to him, loudly and insistently. The barking turned to growls a second before a shot rang out. The dog let out a high-pitched whine of pain, and dropped to the ground.
“Mahto!” Lance leapt from his horse, pulling his rifle from the saddle scabbard.
Another shot rang out, then another. It took a fraction of a second for the pain to register. The shooter had hit his mark both times. Lance dropped his rifle and clutched at his chest, while heat seared through his upper thigh. He sank to his knees and cursed, reaching for the unmoving body of his dog. Heavy footsteps came out of the darkness, and someone kicked him in the gut. A sharp pain against his head brought relief as darkness took away the agony.
Chapter Eighteen
A rooster crowed. Ellie blinked away the grit in her swollen eyes as her gaze fell to her bedroom window. Min
utes passed as she stared at the emptiness from her bed. The gloomy gray dawn quickly gave way to the sun rising over the mountains in the east. She swiped at her face as another tear rolled down her cheeks. She’d cried all night to the sounds of the rain that had spattered against her window.
Sniffling, she sat up in her bed and pushed the covers aside. The cold blast of air that seeped through her nightgown was nothing compared to the icy chill that plagued her insides.
Lance.
The look of shock and even anger in his eyes the previous evening when Trace Hawley had spoken of her father continued to haunt her. One minute Lance had stood in front of her and told her he loved her, saying it in three different languages all at once, and the next he’d looked at her as if she’d committed murder.
Edward Benton raided my mother’s village.
Lance’s gestures had been more disturbing than if he’d spoken the words out loud. The meaning of what he’d said had filled her with a sickening feeling of dread.
Her father had been responsible for the killing of innocent people? Specifically, Lance’s mother? A renewed shudder passed through her. With trembling hands, Ellie slipped out of her nightgown and dressed. She had to see Lance. She needed to talk to him now.
He hadn’t returned to the party after his hasty departure from the porch at Trace Hawley’s ranch the night before. When Trace and Tyler Monroe had gone to the barn to check on him, the wrangler looking after the guest horses had said he’d saddled up and ridden away in a hurry.
Ellie rushed downstairs and out of the house, ignoring Aunt Fiona’s calls from the kitchen. Lance would be at the ranch for work soon. Perhaps he was already here, getting ready to work with one of the horses.
Ellie ran down the path to the barns. Horses whinnied in greeting and paced in their pens as one of the wranglers filled their feed troughs with hay and grain. She opened the large, squeaking door to the barn that housed some of the younger animals Lance trained. Other than the content munching sounds of horses eating, the barn was eerily dark and quiet.
In His Kiss: Blemished Brides, Book 4 Page 15
