Matt (The Cowboys)

by Leigh Greenwood

  Yet there was more. She had accepted him without criticism even though he wasn’t the kind of man she could love. She hadn’t made any effort to change or improve him. They disagreed on many things, but she’d been generous with her praise. Knowing he’d been abused hadn’t caused her to turn away from him. Even now, she snuggled up against him.

  Sometimes when he woke, he’d stay awake so he could enjoy the feeling of having her nestled against him. It made him feel as though she trusted him and wanted to be near him. That answered a need deep inside him. It didn’t begin to fill up the well, but it kept the hole from getting any deeper.

  She’d never know what a strain it was on him to just lie here, her warmth against him, her breasts touching his arms, his side, even his hands, knowing he dared not do what he ached to do. She had said she’d leave if he did.

  Some nights he lay there so tense that his body shook from the strain. He had to grip his hands together to keep from touching her. She had let him give her brotherly kisses, but he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her as he’d always dreamed of kissing the woman he loved. He wanted to pour out all the love he’d hoarded for so long.

  But she would stop trusting him, stop wanting to touch him, to be around him. What they had wasn’t much, but it was more than he’d had before. He just had to decide if he could live with it, at least for as long as she remained at the ranch. It seemed such a horrible option—pain now and more pain later—but he couldn’t let her go. He could—

  A scream ripped apart the silence of the night. He was out of the bed and halfway to the door before Ellen woke.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Watching through the kitchen window as she prepared supper, Ellen kept an eye on Hank as he played with Orin and Toby. He rarely smiled, but he seemed to be more relaxed, less prone to look over his shoulder. Thank goodness he hadn’t had a recurrence of his nightmare.

  It had frightened her badly to wake out of a dead sleep, screams reverberating through the house, Matt running from the room. She would have followed him if Tess and Noah hadn’t woken up, Tess whimpering in fear. By the time the screams stopped, Tess was sobbing and Noah was clinging to her, his body taut with fear.

  “There’s no need to cry,” she’d said. “It’s just Hank having a bad dream.”

  “What about?” Noah asked.

  “I don’t know.” She couldn’t tell them the truth.

  “I bet it’s panthers,” Noah said.

  “There aren’t any panthers around here.”

  Toby says there’s panthers and worse in Mexico.”

  “Maybe, but we’re not in Mexico.”

  “Is it Indians?”

  “It could be.” But she was certain it wasn’t Indians.

  “Are Indians going to get us?” Tess asked between sobs.

  “Matt won’t let anything get us,” Ellen said.

  “I want Matt,” Tess said. “Where is he?”

  “He’s in the loft with Hank,” Ellen said. “But I’m sure he’ll come give you a hug before he goes back to bed.”

  But it had been a very long time before Matt returned. By then Noah and Tess had fallen asleep.

  “Was he dreaming about his uncle?” Ellen asked after they got back in bed.

  “Yes.”

  They’d talked far into the night. Matt never explained what Hank’s uncle had done or exactly what his own uncle had done. She wondered how Matt had managed to grow into such a strong, dependable, compassionate man. After Eddie Lowell attacked her, she’d been angry at the world, ready to lash out at everybody. Keeping his anger tightly controlled, Matt poured all his energy into doing for these boys what Jake and Isabelle had done for him. She couldn’t imagine what kind of inner strength it must take to be able to do that.

  Ellen went outside to call everyone to dinner. “Where are Matt and Noah? Supper will be ready soon.”

  “They’re taking care of Noah’s horse,” Toby called out.

  They were wrestling. The younger boys weren’t strong enough to pin Toby, but he couldn’t hold both of them down. Every time he got one down, the other jumped on his back. She hoped they’d be tired by the time Matt and Noah reached the house. Noah would want to jump right into the middle. They were too big and rough. She was afraid he’d get hurt.

  “He thinks his horse has a spavin,” Orin said.

  “He’s always hoping to find a spavin,” Toby said. He wiggled out from between the two younger boys and managed to catch hold of them both. “He doesn’t realize he can’t ride a horse with a spavin.”

  Hank suddenly stopped wrestling, his body rigid.

  “What’s wrong?” Toby asked, sounding a little defensive. “I didn’t hurt you.”

  But Hank wasn’t looking at Toby. He stared up the trail that led out of their valley to the road that went to Medina, and from there to Bandera. Ellen looked up to see a man riding toward them. She had started to wonder aloud who he might be when Hank moaned, grew wide-eyed with fear, scrambled to his feet, and raced for the corrals as fast as he could run.

  She knew.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Toby asked.

  “I think that’s his uncle,” Ellen said.

  “Is he going to take Hank away?” Orin asked.

  “I’m not letting him take Hank,” Toby said, getting up and squaring his body as though he was ready to take on the stranger by himself. “Hank’s scared of him.”

  Matt hadn’t told the boys what had happened to Hank. Ellen’s first impulse was to send the boys to get Matt, but that was unnecessary. As soon as Hank told him who’d come looking for him, she was sure Matt would come straight to the house.

  “We don’t intend to let him take Hank,” Ellen said to Toby, “but he may be Hank’s legal guardian. If so, that could be trouble.”

  “Matt will know what to do,” Toby said.

  Orin retreated to the porch steps. Tess sat in the swing at the end of the porch, playing with Mrs. Ogden, apparently unaware of the gathering tension.

  “Matt will be here in a minute,” Ellen said to Toby. “Until then, let me do the talking.”

  “I can tell him to turn around and git just as well as anybody,” Toby said. He held his ground, a barrier between Ellen and danger.

  “I’m sure you can, but I’d rather you let me.”

  Ellen didn’t want to talk to this man. She’d much prefer to take Tess and Orin, go inside, and close the door. But she had to learn to stand up for the children by herself. When she moved to San Antonio, she wouldn’t have Matt to look after her. That thought gave her a cold, lonely feeling. She shoved it aside. “Come up on the porch with me,” she said to Toby.

  “Why? I ain’t afraid of him.”

  “Maybe I am.”

  She didn’t know why she’d said that. If she was afraid, she shouldn’t have admitted it. The idea of being her protector caused Toby to stand even taller.

  “You don’t have to worry about him,” he said, coming to stand next to her. “I won’t let him touch nobody.”

  “Suppose he’s got a gun,” Orin said.

  “We got guns, too,” Toby said. “I can—”

  “Nobody’s getting a gun,” Ellen said. “We aren’t even sure who he is or what he wants.”

  The man was big, and he looked grimly determined. Or angry. He also looked very attractive. She’d expected him to be ugly, maybe because what he’d done was so ugly. She kept glancing toward the corrals, hoping to see Matt, but she heard nothing, saw no one.

  The man brought his horse to a stop in front of the porch. He didn’t dismount. “Howdy.”

  “Howdy, yourself,” Toby said.

  Ellen squeezed Toby’s shoulder. She inclined her head without speaking. The man looked undecided. He glanced at both boys, at Tess on the porch. The ranch was quiet. No sounds told of the presence of three other people.

  “Your husband about?” he asked.

  “Somewhere,” Ellen said, squeezing Toby’s shoulder again when he opened his mo
uth to answer.

  “He likely to come to the house soon?”

  “He’d better,” Toby said. “Supper’s about ready.”

  Ellen wished Toby hadn’t said that. Western custom dictated that she extend hospitality to all visitors, but she couldn’t invite this man to eat with them.

  The man stayed in the saddle, looking around, his expression one of simmering anger.

  “Can I help you with something?” Ellen asked. She wanted him to go away.

  “I’m looking for a boy,” the man said.

  “We ain’t got no extra boys,” Toby said.

  Ellen felt Orin press closer to her. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific,” Ellen said.

  “His name is Hank Hollender. I’m his uncle, Wayne Hollender.”

  Ellen didn’t understand why she should suddenly feel more frightened of this man. His confirming his identity didn’t change anything.

  “We ain’t letting you—”

  Ellen’s fingers dug deep into Toby’s shoulder. “Why would you look for him here?”

  “I tracked his horse in this direction.”

  “I would have thought it was too dry for tracking.”

  The man smiled without humor. “I was a tracker for the army. I can track a horse across rock. Besides, it was my horse he stole. I’d know its track anywhere.”

  “That’s a lie!” Toby exploded. “Hank said it was his horse.”

  She should have sent Toby to find Matt. She knew he couldn’t control his tongue for long.

  Wayne Hollender’s expression turned ugly. “You people trying to steal my nephew?”

  “We do have a boy here, but I don’t know that he’s your nephew.”

  Hollender’s expression turned really ugly. “How many boys named Hank could be missing at the same time?”

  “Hank’s not missing. I know exactly where he is.”

  Ellen’s body sagged with relief. Matt had come out of the house behind her. She and Toby turned to him simultaneously. Orin moved to his side immediately.

  “This man says—” Toby began.

  “I heard what he said.”

  “He wants to take Hank. You can’t—”

  “Hank’s not going anywhere.”

  If it were possible, Hollender’s expression grew even uglier. Ellen wondered how she could have thought him handsome.

  “He’s my nephew. You have no right to hold him here.”

  “We’re not holding him,” Matt said. “He came here on his own. He’s still here because he asked us to let him stay.”

  Ellen reached out to Matt, put her hand on his arm, looking for the same kind of comfort Orin found by being close to him. She almost wished she hadn’t. Matt had spoken in a calm voice, had maintained a noncommital expression, but his body trembled with his anger. Ellen thought of his rage when he’d seen the marks on Hank’s back. This was worse.

  “I’m his uncle,” Hollender said. “I’m responsible for him.”

  “Even if he doesn’t want to stay with you?”

  “That’s none of your business,” Hollender said. “Where is he? I want to be going.”

  “I’m concerned about his safety,” Matt said. “This looks like something for a judge to decide.”

  “I don’t need a judge to tell me my nephew belongs to me,” Hollender thundered. He dismounted. “Now where is he?”

  “I have some questions I want answered,” Matt said.

  Hollender had a rifle in a scabbard on his saddle. Ellen thought she saw his eyes cut toward it. “I don’t give a damn what you want,” he shouted.

  The door to the house opened behind them and Hank pushed his way to the front. “I’m never going anywhere with you,” he shouted at his uncle. “I hate you. I—”

  Without warning Hollender sprang forward, grabbed Hank’s arm, and pulled him down from the porch. Almost as quickly Ellen saw Hollender fly through the air and land in the dirt a half dozen feet away. He looked stunned to find himself on the ground.

  “You’re making a big mistake,” he said to Matt, inching toward his horse at the same time.

  Matt had gone down the steps and directly to Hollender. The man reached for his rifle, but Matt’s hand closed over his like a vice.

  “Get on your horse and ride out while you can,” Matt said, his voice now almost a growl. He tore Hollender’s hand from the rifle, jerked it from its scabbard, and tossed it to Toby. “I’ll bring your rifle to town when I talk to the judge about Hank.”

  “I’m not leaving without my nephew.”

  Then he attacked. Head down, he barreled into Matt like some mad longhorn bull. The two men went over in a heap, Hollender on top of Matt.

  “Smash his face in,” Toby yelled.

  “Beat his head into the ground!” Hank shouted.

  Noah had come out of the house behind Hank, but he was so frightened, he stayed close to Ellen. The minute the fighting started, Tess had jumped up from the swing, run over, and burrowed into Ellen’s skirts. Toby and Hank continued to dance around the combatants, shouting encouragement to Matt.

  For a moment Ellen worried that wouldn’t be enough. Hollender was as big as Matt and enraged. He fought like a madman. But as quickly as Hollender had knocked him down, Matt turned the tables and was on top. Matt had an expression on his face unlike anything Ellen had ever seen. He looked like he wanted to kill Wayne Hollander. He pommeled Hollender’s body with his fists, knocked him down every time he attempted to get to his feet, grabbed him by the throat, and pounded his head on the ground.

  “I hope he kills you!” Hank yelled. “I hope he kills you dead!”

  When Hollender’s face turned purple, Ellen’s body went rigid with terror. Matt did want to kill Hollender. He was doing it.

  “Matt, stop!” she shouted.

  But Matt didn’t stop. Rage consumed him so thoroughly, her words hadn’t penetrated to his brain. She had to do something immediately or Matt would kill Hollender. Galvanized into action, she ran down the steps.

  “Toby, help me pull Matt off.”

  “No!” Hank shouted. “I want Matt to kill him.”

  “Why should we stop him?” Toby asked.

  “If Matt kills him, he’ll go to jail.”

  Orin joined Toby and Ellen in their attempt to pull the two men apart, but their efforts were useless against Matt’s strength. His arms were like iron. Even Toby was powerless to loosen his grip on Hollender. Then suddenly, as though he realized what he was about to do, Matt released Hollander and threw himself off the gasping man. He got to his feet slowly, his gaze never leaving Hollender.

  Ellen stared at Matt, unable to believe what she was seeing. His face was a mask of hatred that had turned his face ugly. In that moment the face of the man who’d killed her parents flashed into her mind, the ugliness of his expression when they’d sentenced him to hang, his damning her soul to hell. She forced the image from her mind. Matt was nothing like Anthony Howard. Matt wasn’t a killer. He was just angry at a great injustice.

  Gradually Matt reined in the emotions that for a few minutes had overpowered him. His face relaxed into the kind, considerate man Ellen recognized. Only now she knew what she’d only sensed before. There was another part of Matt, a part capable of violence.

  They stood there in a nearly silent tableau, everyone watching Hollender as his eyeballs righted themselves in his head, as the purple hue gradually left his skin, as his breathing slowed from body-wrenching gasps to labored intake. No one said anything when he finally sat up, but Orin retreated to the steps. Hank moved next to Matt. Toby stood his ground. Ellen put her arms around a very frightened Noah and Tess.

  Matt looked normal, calm, quiet, and contained.

  “You nearly killed me,” Hollender said without getting up.

  Matt said nothing.

  Hollender attempted to get to his feet. No one moved to help him when he fell back. They just watched, quiet as vultures perched in trees waiting for an animal to die. In a moment Hollender
tried again. He got to his feet this time, but he had to hold on to his saddle to keep from falling.

  “Get on your horse and leave,” Matt said.

  “I’ll get the law on you,” Hollender said. “You’ll be the one answering the judge’s questions.”

  “Ride out,” Matt repeated.

  Hollender seemed revitalized by a sudden jolt of energy. He pointed his finger at Hank and shouted, “He belongs to me. I’ll get him back any way I have to.”

  “I know what you did to that boy,” Matt said in a low, steady voice. “If you ever touch him again, I’ll kill you.”

  “I’ll get him back,” Hollender said.

  But the energy had gone out of him. His words sounded more like a whimper than a threat. No one said a word as Hollender tried three times before he was able to pull himself into his saddle.

  After he managed to gather up the reins, he circled his horse, then looked over his shoulder at Matt. “I’ll get him back.” Then he left, his horse moving at a slow walk.

  They remained silent until Matt turned toward the house. Then they all burst into conversation at once. Matt signaled them to be quiet. “I don’t want anyone to leave this house alone,” he said, “not even to go to the corrals, to milk the cow, or to collect eggs. If you see anyone you don’t know, let me know immediately. That is a very dangerous man, and we haven’t seen the last of him.”

  “Why can’t I help Toby plow?” Noah asked Matt.

  “Because the plow is bigger than you are,” Matt replied. “It would drag you all over the field.”

  “You can help me.”

  “I’m a cowboy,” Matt said. “We don’t know how to plow.”

  Ellen smiled at Matt’s reaction. It was obvious Noah was a town kid. No boy raised on a ranch would have made that mistake.

  “How come Toby knows how to plow?” Noah asked.