by Ari McKay
“Unfortunately,” Luke agreed grimly. He hadn’t mentioned his confrontation with James to Stone. For one thing, he was annoyed with himself for letting James provoke him to rudeness, and for another, he didn’t want Stone to worry. While Luke was sure James hadn’t forgotten it any more than he had, they seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement to ignore what had happened.
“I just wish I knew what’d convince him to go back East,” Stone said, gnawing on his bottom lip. “I wish I knew the real reason he was here.”
“Me too.” Luke drew in a deep breath and braced himself for an evening of socializing that for once, he wasn’t in the mood for. “Well, time to get started, I reckon.” He stepped inside the warehouse and headed straight for the refreshment table. The punch wouldn’t be spiked, unfortunately, but eating and drinking would at least give him something to do that would let him procrastinate on the socializing.
Agnes Wilson was standing behind the table, and she smiled as he approached. “Something to drink, Luke? We have lemonade. Papa had the lemons sent all the way from San Francisco just for the Festival.”
“Really?” Luke was genuinely impressed by that, and he didn’t try to hide it, knowing it would please Agnes. “In that case, I’d love some.”
Agnes’s smile widened, and she picked up one of the mugs on the table, filling it carefully with a ladle from a huge bowl of the lemonade. “There you are.” She hesitated for a moment. “How is Mr. Harrison doing?”
“Back to his normal ornery self.” Luke gave her a mischievous smile. “He was up as soon as possible and back to work. Your pa did a good job patchin’ him up.”
“Papa is a good doctor.” She didn’t bother to hide the pride she felt in her father, but then her expression fell a little. “I would have liked to have been a doctor or at least a nurse, but Mama doesn’t think it’s ladylike. So instead I help Papa because that way, he doesn’t have to pay a real nurse.” She smiled slightly. “At least it gets me out of the house so I don’t have to sit around doing the fancy embroidery Mama thinks will catch me a proper husband.”
“I don’t know of any man who’d care much about needlework, but he’d definitely appreciate someone who could take care of him when he ain’t feelin’ good.” Luke didn’t really know what men looked for in a woman, but he could take a decent guess.
Agnes chuckled, and her brown eyes sparkled, making her look almost pretty. “You’re right, but my Mama does cling to what her own mama taught her. At least she finally listened when I told her Mr. Harrison could never, ever be interested in me.”
Luke schooled his features into a neutral expression, not wanting to give away too much. This wasn’t the first time Agnes had said something that hinted at her knowing more than she ought to, but Luke would be damned if he would confirm anything for her. Not when Stone refused to be with him out of fear of what people might think if they found out.
“Well, now, Miss Agnes, you never know who might take a fancy to you.”
She shook her head, her cheeks turning pink. “Oh no, though you’re nice to say it, Luke.” Her gaze moved to where James was laughing and joking with what seemed to be every single woman under thirty in town—with the exception of Agnes. “People get so wrapped up in what a woman looks like, they don’t see anything else.”
Luke let out a disgusted snort at James’ posing and preening. “You deserve a lot better than anything that fancy fool has to offer,” he said, and he meant it. Agnes might have a plain face, but she was smart and had a good heart, and James Rivers was the last man who could make her happy.
Unfortunately, it seemed his encouragement may have come too late. Agnes shook her head, looking down into the bowl of lemonade. “It doesn’t matter. Remember how I told you I’d know when the right man came along? Only he isn’t the right one. He’s just the one I want, even though I thought I was too smart to fall for a handsome face.” She lifted her eyes to Luke again, and there was a kind of empathy in them mixed with sadness. “Love isn’t easy, is it? At least not for some of us.”
“I ain’t so sure it’s easy for any of us,” he replied, refusing to give in to the urge to look at Stone. He wasn’t about to be stupid and give himself away like that. He regarded her speculatively for a moment and then put his cup aside; it seemed she was in as much need of a distraction as he was, and he knew one thing that might help. “Sounds like the band’s startin’ up a new tune,” he said, beckoning to her. “Would you do me the honor, Miss Agnes?”
Her eyes widened, and she straightened her shoulders and curtseyed. “Mr. Reynolds, I would be delighted to dance with you.” She came around the table and rested her hand on his arm, carrying herself with all the regal hauteur of a queen.
Luke escorted her over to the rest of the dancers, ignoring the gawking and whispering that followed in their wake, and led her smoothly and gracefully through the opening steps of a reel. Agnes was a very good dancer, even though Luke suspected her father had probably partnered her more than any of the single men in town, and Luke liked to dance, especially with a skilled partner. Even though he spotted Stone and James watching them intently, he ignored them, focusing his attention on Agnes. He was going to enjoy this, damn it, and make sure she did, too, since it might be the highlight of the evening for both of them.
When the reel ended, Agnes smiled breathlessly at him. “Thank you so much. That was fun!” Her cheeks were pink, and little wisps of brown hair had escaped from the tight bun she wore it in. “But I should get back to the refreshment table before the lemonade runs dry.”
“Now, you wouldn’t do that and leave me standing here in the middle of the floor by myself, would you, dear lady?”
Luke turned, but he recognized that voice, and he knew exactly who he’d see. Sure enough, James Rivers had decided to grace them with his presence, although he ignored Luke completely and focused his attention on Agnes, who was staring at him, wide-eyed. James seemed to take that as his due, however, and clasped her unresisting hand, lifting it to his lips as he bent over it. “Miss Agnes, you would break my heart if you didn’t agree to dance with me.”
Normally so self-possessed, Agnes looked like a rabbit caught in a coyote’s sight. Then she nodded as though she were in a daze. “Of course, Mr. Rivers. I’d be honored to dance with you.”
Luke scowled at James, knowing the man was up to something. He just didn’t know what it was, but there would damned sure be hell to pay if James broke Agnes’s heart on purpose. He didn’t have any grounds to interfere, however, and there was no doubt Agnes wanted to dance with James. So Luke smiled at her and murmured his thanks for the dance, and then he retreated to fetch his cup from the refreshment table.
Stone was already there, and he was scowling again. “Now what’s he doin’?” he muttered. “I swear, he only asked her to dance because you did first. Before that, he wasn’t payin’ her no mind at all.”
Luke nodded as the pieces fell into place. “That’s exactly what he did,” he replied, taking a sip of lemonade, which was indeed quite good. “He probably thought he was showin’ me up by takin’ away the girl he thinks I’m interested in.”
Stone frowned again. “Shows how much he knows. He’d best not hurt her. She’s worth ten of him.”
“Damned right she is.” Luke glared at James’s back, for all the good it did. Agnes looked like she was in heaven, and he couldn’t begrudge her that. At least one of them would have a moment to remember that night.
“I don’t know whether I should have a talk with him or not.” He looked off to the side and shook his head. “Mrs. Wilson looks like she’s ready to start sendin’ out weddin’ invitations any moment.” Indeed, the Wilson matriarch was standing with her hands clasped to her bosom and watching her daughter and James as though wedding bells were ringing in her head.
“Somehow, I doubt he’s got such honorable intentions,” Luke replied grimly. “I’ll keep an eye on him and make sure he don’t take advantage of her.”
�
�You and me both.”
Before Luke could say anything else, Nelson Simmons walked past. Nelson was a grizzled, fifty-something rancher who owned a spread south of town, and he nodded to Luke, but when Stone greeted him politely, he scowled.
“Was a time when your kind weren’t allowed among civilized folk,” he snarled as he brushed by, heading toward the door.
“Wait just a danged minute!” Luke checked his language just in time, out of deference to the mixed company, and strode forward and grabbed Nelson’s arm. “What the devil are you talkin’ about?”
The older man shrugged off Luke’s hand. “Your boss,” he snapped, looking over at Stone, who was standing, still as a statue, staring at them. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know he was part Injun, Luke. His kind ain’t nothin’ but a bunch of savages.”
“Yeah, I know what he is, and I don’t care.” Luke was furious, a surge of white-hot anger sweeping over him at Nelson’s narrow-minded blathering. “My boss ain’t no savage, and I don’t reckon his kind has done any more murderin’ than our kind has.”
“You can say that. You didn’t lose your Pa to a maraudin’ band of Sioux!” Nelson’s hands were clenched at his sides. “And I sure as hell don’t have to stay in the same room with him, boy, or do business with him if I don’t want to.”
“No, you don’t have to do none of that, but you better not let me hear you talkin’ about him like that again.” Luke lifted his chin defiantly. “Or you’ll answer to me. Mr. Harrison is a good rancher and a good businessman, and Mrs. Harrison wanted him to have Copper Lake. That’s all anyone needs to know.”
Nelson’s eyes narrowed. “Ain’t your place to tell me what I can or can’t say. I notice you ain’t callin’ me a liar. I’ll talk about the truth all I want, and ain’t nobody goin’ to stop me!”
The band had stopped playing, and everything had gone quiet. In that silence, Stone spoke up, his deep voice soft but easy to hear.
“My mama was half Pawnee. Her pa was a white teacher, and her ma was the daughter of a medicine man. There weren’t a more lovin’, gentle person than my ma, and she weren’t no savage.” He was staring at Nelson, his face as hard as Luke had ever seen it. “You can say what you want about me, Mr. Simmons, but the truth of the matter is my pa was the savage. He got blind drunk and beat his wife and child for no reason other than meanness. And he was a white man.”
Luke knew from what little Stone had said about his pa the man had been a no-account dog, but he hadn’t realized Stone had been abused as well. Stone’s desperation to prove he was nothing like his pa made even more sense now, and it explained why Stone had so many ghosts trailing after him.
He could think of nothing to say, and so he stared challengingly at Nelson instead, daring the man to offer more insults. If Nelson had any sense, he’d shut his mouth, but Luke wasn’t sure just how much sense the man had.
Before he had to find out, Sheriff Anderson stepped between them. “I reckon that’s enough name callin’ and bad feelin’s for now.” Nelson opened his mouth, but the Sheriff glared at him. “Don’t make me start tossin’ folks in jail for disruptin’ a public event. Your missus is home sick, as I recall. I don’t think she’d be too happy about havin’ to get out of bed to pay your bail, do you?”
Nelson snapped his mouth closed, glared at everyone, and then he turned on his heel and stomped out. Once he was gone, Sheriff Anderson smiled at the remaining crowd. “Well, then, since Nelson is bein’ so reasonable, I think the rest of us can go on, don’t you?”
The band started to play again, but no one seemed to feel like dancing. People did mill around, however, and when Luke glanced over to where Stone had been, all he got was a glimpse of his back as he headed toward the back door, people parting silently to let him through. Luke didn’t hesitate to go after him, hurrying to catch up.
“Not everyone thinks like Nelson,” he said. “I sure as hell don’t.”
Stone stopped and turned, the darkness making his features difficult to read. “I know you don’t.” His voice was rough. “But he won’t be the only one who does. I don’t care so much for me, but I have to think about the ranch. If me ownin’ it is goin’ to wreck everything Priss worked for, maybe I should think about sellin’ it.”
Luke shook his head vehemently, and he wasn’t thinking about himself, but of Stone. Running the ranch had given Stone a chance to settle down and take on responsibility, and it had done him a world of good already. Stone needed a purpose and a way to assure himself he was nothing like his pa, and giving up the ranch would undermine all the confidence he’d built up over the last few months.
“Priss knew about your mama,” Luke reminded him. “She left the ranch to you anyway. She wanted you to have it, and you’re doin’ good. You shouldn’t give it up just because some fools judge you for who begot you. They ain’t worth it, and there’s plenty of reasonable folks who’ll be glad to do business with you.”
He could feel the weight of Stone’s gaze on him. “I don’t know. Maybe, but maybe not. Maybe Priss chose the wrong man. She should’ve given the ranch to you.”
“I ain’t her kin.” Luke waved the thought away dismissively. “I got no claim to it, and I don’t want none. I know what I’m good at, and that’s bein’ the foreman. I ain’t got no desire to be the man in charge.”
Stone was silent for a long moment, as though considering Luke’s words. “But you were her friend. That gives you a better claim than a stranger, blood kin or not.” Stone raked his hand through his hair. “You know what bugs me, though? Why now? I’ve been here almost six months, and ain’t no one said a word about my folks. So far as I know, the only person who knows about my ma is you.”
“Well, I reckon some folks have guessed,” Luke pointed out. “You don’t look all that white. But it is odd that no one’s said anything about it before.”
“I’m startin’ to feel right put upon.” Stone grimaced and straightened his shoulders. “But I suppose there’s nothin’ to do except go back in there and keep my chin up. People’ll just talk more if I run off with my tail between my legs.”
“You’re right about that,” Luke acknowledged, nodding somberly. It might not be easy, but at least if Stone returned to the dance with his head held high, he would show everyone he had nothing to hide or be ashamed of. “I’ll stay close by, if you want me to.”
Stone gave him a rather lopsided smile. “I’d be mighty grateful if you did. And thank you, for defendin’ me. Ain’t nobody ever stood up for me like that before.”
Luke shrugged awkwardly and looked away; he hadn’t thought twice before confronting Nelson, and he hoped he hadn’t given away more than he ought to about how he felt. “No need to thank me for doin’ what’s right. You don’t deserve that kind of disrespect, and I ain’t goin’ to listen to it if it comes from the president’s own mouth.”
“Well, I do appreciate it anyway,” Stone replied. “Come on, let’s get back inside.” He headed back toward the building with grim determination. No doubt Stone wasn’t going to enjoy the rest of the evening one bit, but having the toughness to stick it out was going to earn him respect from some people.
19
“THAT’LL be twelve dollars and fifty-six cents, Mr. Harrison. You want me to put it on the ranch account?”
“I’d be obliged if you did, Mr. Stephens.” Stone nodded to the storekeeper as he picked up two twenty-five pound sacks of flour from the counter, hefting them in his arms and giving a slight grimace. It had been nearly three weeks since Raider had thrown him, but he still got a twinge from time to time.
“You want me to take that, Stone?” Little Sam was looking at him anxiously, but Stone shook his head.
“You get those bags of beans and potatoes and the spices Mary wanted.” He jerked his chin toward Mr. Stephens and headed out the door. The buckboard was tethered in front of Stephen’s Mercantile, and Stone put the flour sacks in the back, glad the chore of shopping was nearly finished and he and Little Sam c
ould head back to the ranch.
Pushing his hat back on his head, he glanced down Serenity’s Main Street as Little Sam loaded the rest of the supplies. One or two people pointedly ignored him as they passed by, but everyone else nodded to him politely. Despite his worries the night of the Spring Festival, only a few of the townsfolk seemed to find him socially unacceptable, and none of those were people he particularly liked anyway. They could snub him in church or in the street, but when it came down to it, Stone realized he’d found more acceptance in Serenity than he’d ever imagined possible. Most folk didn’t seem to care who his mother had been; Priss had wanted him to have the ranch, and he was running it in a way she would have approved of, so that was good enough for them.
“That’s the last of it.” Little Sam grinned as he shut the gate on the back of the wagon. “We’ll be home in time for supper.”
“Always thinkin’ about your stomach.” Stone hauled himself up onto the seat and took the reins. Once Little Sam was seated next to him, Stone clucked to the horses and started them off on the journey home.
Little Sam pulled out a piece of taffy wrapped in wax paper from his pocket, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. Stone shook his head, and Little Sam chuckled, settling back on the seat and happily chewing his sweet.
Stone turned his attention to the road, although there really wasn’t much to see once they got out of town except for grass and the mountains they were headed toward. The horses knew the way, so Stone found himself thinking, as he often did, about Luke.
Luke’s defense of him in front of the whole town had surprised him, and while he’d secretly been touched and pleased by it, he’d also worried anyone with two eyes in their head would see what was between him and Luke. After Luke had accused him of acting like a protective lover, the last thing Stone had expected was for Luke to turn around and do the same thing.
The next day, he’d overheard Luke dressing down one of the hands. He hadn’t heard what the man said, but he arrived at the stables just in time to catch Luke’s raised voice. “You’ll do your job with a smile on your lips and a ‘yes sir’ on your tongue for him, or you’ll be lookin’ for work somewhere else,” Luke had snapped at a hand named Hendry, a new man who’d only been at the ranch a few months. Hendry had glared at Luke, but apparently he’d thought holding his tongue was easier than finding a new job, and Stone had slipped away before either of them knew he’d been there. Yet he had to wonder if tongues would be wagging in the bunkhouse that night, as the hands speculated on why their foreman seemed so determined to defend their boss, no matter what.
