A Man with a Past

by Mary Connealy

  And yep, that was Ross Baker lying there dead. He hadn’t ridden to Texas. He’d been plotting against her family with Bern Tuttle right along with him. Hoping Win would keep Tuttle talking, Cheyenne shifted again.

  “His part was to marry up with Miss Cheyenne.”

  Oh, now Cheyenne was going to enjoy shooting him. But not kill him. She wanted to have a hard, little talk with him.

  She raised her rifle, drew a bead, and shot the gun out of his hand.

  At the blast of gunfire, Kevin dove at the gunman and slammed a fist into his face. The man went over backward, crying out. Cheyenne rushed in to get between Win and the rest of this madness.

  “Cheyenne!” Winona came running to her.

  Cheyenne stared at the Clovis Hunt look-alike. “Who are you?”

  Win slammed into her and caught her in a hug. Cheyenne barely heard the “Falcon Hunt” muffled into her shoulder.

  In the middle of the hug, she looked at Tuttle, groggy, barely unconscious, bleeding from his hand, or maybe his wrist. She’d shot him. For all the years she’d carried a rifle and a six-gun, she’d never pulled the trigger on a man before.

  She’d shot a few rattlesnakes and a cougar that’d been thinning her herd. Some rabid skunks and raccoons and such. But to pull the trigger on a man . . . Sickened, her stomach lurched, and for a minute, she fought to keep from casting up her belly.

  Holding on to Win helped, and Cheyenne hugged her back hard.

  Cheyenne took another long look at the man she’d shot. He looked purely unconscious, and the bullet wound to his wrist didn’t look serious. Cheyenne could pay attention to other things for a minute.

  “Who’s she?” a gravelly voice whispered.

  “More family,” said Kevin. “She’s a sister . . . sort of.”

  “I am in no way your sister,” Cheyenne said sternly.

  So this was Falcon Hunt. One of the worthless brothers who’d come a-runnin’ to steal her land. But this one wasn’t pure worthless. He was better in the woods than anyone she’d ever met, save her tribal relatives. “Falcon, huh? I’ve been following you for days.”

  “Yep, I saw you back there tracking me and didn’t want to talk. Once I was close enough to tap you on the shoulder and say, ‘Leave me alone,’ but I let you sleep.”

  That bothered her, added another twist to her stomach to think someone had been that close, watching her while she slept. She probably hadn’t oughta wander in the woods anymore. It wasn’t safe. Then, because she didn’t like admitting he was better than her, she looked around at the mess they’d made out here and saw that Tuttle had lost all color in his face. She rushed to his side and saw a heavy pool of blood under his hand, soaked under his body.

  Quickly, she grabbed her kerchief and wrapped it around his wrist, but it was no use. “He’s dead.”

  She looked up as Kevin and Win walked to Tuttle’s other side. Despite her horror, she noticed with confusion that Win and Kevin were holding hands.

  Win looked from Tuttle’s wrist to his ashen face and flinched. “It’s an artery.” She slipped an arm around Kevin, leaning into him for support.

  Cheyenne had just shot his hand. How could he be dead? She swallowed hard and didn’t know what else to do other than back away.

  Needing to think on something else, Cheyenne stood, her eyes shifting between Kevin and Win. “What is going on with you two?”

  Win smiled at Kevin. “We’re married.”

  “What?” Cheyenne shoved the hood all the way off her head.

  The rain had stopped, and that was a shame. She could use a solid dousing to clear her muddled thoughts.

  “Yep, well and truly married. Vows spoken before God and man.” Kevin put his arm around Win.

  Cheyenne considered knocking the arm off. Especially when Kevin smiled. But Win snuggled closer like a brainless sheep, and Cheyenne figured attacking Kevin wasn’t going to go over well with her friend.

  “You’re married. Falcon has been wandering in the woods for days. Armed gunmen hunting everyone.” Cheyenne flung her arms wide. “I can’t leave any of you alone for a minute or trouble comes flooding.”

  “This one’s dead, too.” Falcon knelt by Ross Baker. He tossed the ramrod onto his stomach and retrieved the knife, wiping off the blood before sticking it in his sheath.

  Cheyenne couldn’t help but admire the man’s style.

  Win said, “We were going to be kicked out of the ramrod’s house with Baker coming home. I guess we don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

  With a sigh, Cheyenne started leading the way home. They’d have to come back for the bodies later.

  They hiked for hours. She was the only one in good shape. And the only one who knew where they were going.

  She had a lot of questions, and the group talked as they went until she mostly knew everything. Win being married, that just didn’t make a lick of sense. But what about Cheyenne’s life did?

  And Falcon Hunt. That’s who she’d been tracking. Despite hating these two men fiercely, she had to admit a deep respect for Falcon.

  When they reached the main trail home, they met Wyatt riding out. He’d dragged those two other invaders along with him, Molly and Andy.

  Wyatt swung off his horse, and out of the four people in their ragtag bunch, Wyatt ran straight for her and hauled her up into his arms.

  Her little brother, taller and stronger than she was, and he had been for a long time. She still had to do most of the thinking for the two of them, but this hug felt as good as anything she’d felt in a long time.

  Then the bunch of them took to chattering. When Cheyenne heard enough of their stories to realize Falcon might’ve been shot—and everyone seemed too scared of the wild-looking man to check—she examined him and found what looked like a bullet crease at the base of his skull, but she was no doctor.

  He was such a mess that she left the crease alone, figuring to scrub him up when they got home, otherwise the wound might open and all his filth would get in.

  Win rode double with her on Wyatt’s horse, and they left the three brothers to walk. As the horse plodded along, she and Win talked some until Win started in about her pa and Cheyenne’s announcement that she was going to accept his proposal.

  Cheyenne didn’t want to hear it, and it didn’t take much to scoot Win off the horse. Cheyenne would have spurred on the horse, but she decided not to leave them all behind in case she needed to save the day again.

  The afternoon was hectic. When they finally reached the ranch, Falcon needed to clean up and be bandaged. It appeared Kevin had also been scratched by a bullet. Win needed her stitches removed.

  There was the sheriff to fetch and the outlaws to haul to town and Cheyenne was the only one who was sure where they were, so that was a long ride out again.

  By the time Cheyenne sat down to a late supper, she was worn clean out.

  The rest of the family came to sit at the table. Cheyenne looked at Falcon and almost smiled. He’d had a bath, shave, and haircut. He had on clean clothes. He looked purely civilized. And somehow by him looking like less of a savage, she saw the wounded man underneath and wanted to help him.

  Would he stay? Would he get his memory back?

  “You have family now.” Cheyenne met Falcon’s gaze with her black eyes. “Stay here and we’ll be able to help you through whatever confusion lies ahead.”

  After a long hesitation, that shouldn’t have mattered to Cheyenne as much as it did, Falcon said, “I’ll stay until I’m . . . healed, or whatever it is that needs to change for me to remember.”

  He looked back at them with those strange hazel eyes the brothers all shared. “I can remember a Bible verse about honoring your father and your mother.” He frowned in thought. “It’s one of the Ten Commandments. The fifth commandment says, ‘Honor thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee.’ And I remember another verse that says something like, this commandment is the only one wi
th a promise.”

  “Land.” Cheyenne clenched her fists on the table and thought of all that she’d lost. She fought down the anger.

  “It’s really about the Promised Land, Cheyenne,” Win said softly. “That’s the land that God had promised the Israelites.”

  “And I think it’s about heaven,” Molly added.

  So if Cheyenne lost her land in this life, she’d have heaven in the next, and no one could take that away from her.

  “And Cheyenne”—Wyatt reached across the table toward her—“honoring your father and mother is an easy thing for you. Your ma and pa were fine folks. And you will continue to live on this land no matter what my pa did to you.”

  It was only when he rested his big hand on one of hers that she realized her fist was clenched and tried to relax. She wanted to believe him. He was right about her ma and pa. They were fine folks she loved dearly.

  Kevin added, “It’s us that has trouble. Falcon, Wyatt, and me. We’re the ones left with the mystery of how God expects us to honor our coyote of a father. A man who, in his last act, stole a ranch from you, Cheyenne, and a nice chunk of it from you, Wyatt.”

  “Mine was no great pillar of decency, either,” Molly muttered. “I think honoring him is going to have to be one of those sins I just have to ask forgiveness for.”

  Cheyenne set aside her own anger long enough to wonder what Molly’s pa had done.

  “We may never be able to abide by this commandment,” Kevin said. “And I’m not even sure it’d be right to do so. But—” He held out his hand to Win, who smiled and took it. Then Win held out her hand to Molly, who clasped her hand.

  Molly moved a little slower, but then Falcon was a little scary. Finally, she offered her hand to Falcon, who reluctantly grabbed hold. Falcon didn’t reach for Cheyenne, but Kevin took Wyatt’s hand, Wyatt took Andy’s, and Andy reached hesitantly for Cheyenne. Which Cheyenne took to mean she was a little scary, too. She took Andy’s hand, then looked at Falcon. Not sure she wanted to touch him, but it seemed right to create a circle.

  A circle that created a family.

  Cheyenne tightened her grip and looked at Falcon. Not a man to disrespect. Not a man who’d lie and cheat and steal like Clovis. Kevin and his family were decent people, too. These people she could honor.

  “I’m proud to know all of you,” Kevin said so solemnly it was like the prayer before the meal. “I can say with an easy heart that I will honor family.”

  Every one of them, with one voice said, “I will honor family.”

  “Can we quit talking and eat?” Andy broke in.

  Laughter bubbled around the table, ending the sober moment. As everyone reached for bowls of food, Cheyenne said, “Do you think Tuttle and Baker came up with the idea to take over the ranches on their own?”

  That stopped them in their tracks.

  “You don’t think so?” Wyatt asked, appearing to force himself to lift a bowl of mashed potatoes.

  “It sounded like they went back east to try and kill Falcon.”

  “Back east of where?” Falcon asked.

  Cheyenne arched a brow at him. She had no idea what to do about his addled head. “But how did they know where he’d be coming from? Did we even talk about him? I was mighty mad about the whole thing. I’m sure word got out about the will, but it seems to me they knew details that very few people would have known. How’d they find out so fast and head straight east to stop him?”

  “And get back here fast enough to attack Kevin and his family?” Win served herself a slice of ham, then passed the heavy platter.

  “You said I got off the train from Omaha. Where’s that from Independence?” Falcon took a slice of bread and began eating it until more food came. “Those two men said they’d attacked me, but if I took the train out, would they have had time to beat me back here?”

  “They had to have gotten here before you in time to attack Kevin.”

  “They said I took all their horses and guns. I might’ve been a few days selling them.”

  Andy laughed. “You stole all their stuff?”

  “So they said, and took their money, too. How’d they get back here so fast? The train costs money, don’t it?”

  “It would have worked,” Win said, “if they’d walked to Independence and gotten some money. Bought new horses and ridden hard for Omaha.”

  “So did they rob a bank in Independence?” Falcon buttered his bread. “Because I doubt I left them horse-buyin’ money.”

  There was quiet while they ate, thinking.

  “If they had accomplices, they could have wired them for money. That works fast,” Win said.

  “Wired money?” Cheyenne hadn’t heard of that. She looked around the table, and no one else seemed to understand, so Win explained about money going between banks with permission given over telegraph lines.

  Wyatt scrubbed his face. “If that happened, what you’re saying is, there might be more of them.”

  “If there are, then our troubles might not be over.” Falcon, for all that he’d cleaned up good, sounded like the voice of doom.

  And this from the man whose memory had started only a week ago.

  “I had planned to start building a cabin somewhere right away.” Kevin turned to give Win a worried look. “But we don’t dare to unless we’re sure it’s safe.”

  “I wonder just what my pa had to do with all of that mess.” Win tapped her fork on the china plate. “Sheriff Corly is going to ride out and talk to him. And it’ll probably come out that we are married.”

  “We should go tell him,” Kevin said.

  “Not necessary. I’d as soon let him come here. I’m sure he’ll ride over tomorrow.”

  Cheyenne was watching the two, thinking of Win and her problems with her pa. Something passed between Kevin and Win that was very private. She wondered what. Win had never kept secrets from her before. Married life was going to ruin their friendship.

  “I’m going to sleep in the bunkhouse,” Andy said. “I asked Rubin if I could, and he said four men quit today because branding is over, so there’s plenty of room.” Then he added to Falcon, “Rubin said you’re welcome, too. We should clear out of the ramrod’s house and leave it to Kevin and Win.”

  Falcon nodded, chewing.

  “We’ve got four bedrooms upstairs,” Wyatt offered. “You can sleep in here.”

  “Nope.” Andy had a gleam in his eyes that wasn’t about the good food. Cheyenne suspected he liked being a cowboy so well that moving into the bunkhouse suited him just fine.

  The clink of their forks and knives as they scooped up food had a friendly tone. Molly had done a wonderful job. The meal was delicious, better honestly than the food Win made. She was an uninspired cook. Must not teach cooking in finishing school.

  Molly got up and fetched a pan of apple dumplings. She brought sweetened cream to the table and started passing dessert. Cheyenne took a bite, and her admiration for Molly’s cooking grew. Maybe Molly could teach Win a few things.

  Maybe she could teach Cheyenne a few things.

  As they ate, Cheyenne thought of all those nights when it had just been Wyatt and her in here eating. Those had been quiet meals, and her cooking was nothing to get excited about.

  It looked like there was no getting shut of this crowd, so Cheyenne grimly decided she’d accept them. She feared it would get old fast.

  ELEVEN

  Win can take the cooking and housekeeping back over, and I could apply for her job as schoolmarm,” Molly said as she cleaned up after breakfast.

  Falcon didn’t know nuthin’ about ranching and didn’t care to learn, so he’d come in and eaten breakfast in the big house.

  Kevin and Win hadn’t shown up. Molly said she’d been told Win would cook for them in the ramrod’s house and not to plan for them.

  Wyatt had gone out to look over the branded cattle, Andy with him.

  Cheyenne was grumpier than usual this morning, and that was saying something. She’d stayed at the house.<
br />
  She reminded him of someone. Falcon wasn’t sure who, but he found he liked Cheyenne, despite her quick ways with a scowl. He felt like maybe he’d known tough women before and they suited him.

  Falcon really didn’t know what anyone was talking about most of the time. “You’re a schoolteacher?”

  Molly nodded.

  “Win too?”

  “She was. She’s been teaching in Bear Claw Pass ever since she came back from finishing school in St. Louis. And I was a teacher back in Wheatfield, Kansas, before I moved here. Her pa went in and told them she was quitting without her permission. Then she got married, so she can’t work anymore.”

  “Her pa did that?” Cheyenne lifted plates off the table and took them to the sink.

  “I wonder if a teacher could teach me to—to—remember? Or help me remember things I’m supposed to already know?”

  Molly settled a plate into a basin of hot water and turned slowly to look at Falcon. “Teach you . . . your past?”

  Falcon shrugged. “I know it ain’t reasonable, exactly, but what about this is? I know my name. Now. I know this is Wyoming and the nearest town is Bear Claw Pass. I know most everything I’ve been told, and I remember all of it. So if I can’t remember things, maybe I can start over and be taught things again, and it’ll be like I remember.”

  Cheyenne began wiping dry the plates Molly washed. “We could just spend the morning talking. I could tell you all I know about this situation.”

  “We had to study Tennessee in school, so I could tell you what I know about it.” Molly scrubbed a cast-iron skillet and handed it to Cheyenne. “Tennessee is where you came from. The Blue Ridge Mountains.”

  “And we’ve got papers here saying a very few things about the unknown brothers,” Cheyenne said. “Just where you lived so the lawyer could send a letter to you telling you to come and steal my land.”

  Grumpy. Falcon ignored it. “So I’m from the mountains?”

  “Yep.” Molly wiped out the basin and hung it on a nail over the sink. “But the mountains way back east.”