The Cowboy's Honor

by Lacy Williams

  It could be days or weeks before help arrived from Denver—if any was even coming.

  * * *

  Seb sat at Matty's bedside. It was late, and dark had fallen outside the window.

  It had been three days since he’d told his family the truth.

  Matty’s eyes were closed, his breathing low and even. In the past days, his brother had slipped in and out of consciousness.

  Maxwell had said the head wound needed time to heal. He’d said that, after a few days, Matty should be able to stay conscious for longer periods.

  It had been three days of tension.

  The best plan that they had been able to come up with was to have all the women and children stay at the main house and the bunkhouse, which was the closest building.

  The men slept in shifts. There were always at least two on watch.

  They’d decided to bring the cattle out of the high field, and Penny and Rose—the two best horsewomen—had ridden along with them, which left more guns to be trained on the surrounding countryside as the cows moved slowly toward the homestead.

  They didn't have enough resources—the summer had been dry and grass was sparse—to keep the cattle close for long. Seb could only pray that this situation would be resolved soon.

  There’d been no sightings of Tolliver. Not even a boot print or a horse track. The sheriff had promised to keep watch for Tolliver in town, but he was a deputy short with Matty to help and Seb hadn’t heard from the man since he and Jonas had gone for help. He prayed daily for Maxwell and Hattie to stay out of Tolliver’s sights.

  The lack of action was making everyone edgy.

  And so was the fact that Seb had broken his family's trust. He’d been amazed and humbled that Pa and Ma harbored no judgment toward him. Even if Pa was disappointed to find out what a failure he was, he had hidden it well. It was the sideways glances that Seb had caught from Edgar and Davy that hurt.

  His brothers had a right to be furious that he had brought this danger down on them and their families. He didn't know whether he could earn their trust back.

  He desperately needed to talk to someone. But there wasn't time, not with the constant vigilance and watchfulness they were all experiencing. He'd come in here to give Catherine a break. Her two little ones were missing their mama, missing the familiarity of their normal routine.

  He’d hoped his brother would have one of his lucid periods.

  The door opened, and he glanced up to see Emma carefully maneuvering a tray through the door.

  She must've known he was in here, because she whispered, “Is the bedside table empty?"

  “Yes.”

  She moved to set the tray on it, doing so with only the slightest rattle. As if she'd done it many times.

  Since the night he’d confessed, he hadn't been able to get more than a passing glance at her. She was always helping his ma or watching over the little ones. And not only were they both kept busy, but his brothers seemed to be conspiring to keep him away from her.

  If Emma was in the kitchen serving lunch, one of his brothers would strike up a conversation that required Seb’s participation until the opportunity had passed. She had been swinging Matty's oldest and Oscar’s youngest beneath the big maple, careful to stay close to the house. He had been on his way from the barn to the house and only intended a small detour to say hello. But Oscar and Walt and Andrew had raced past him, engaging the little tykes and Emma in a game of tag. Seb had carried her laughter in his heart all afternoon.

  And he hadn't missed the dark look from Oscar as his older brother had been passing by. Seb knew the interruption was on purpose.

  He couldn't help but remember when Maxwell had been discouraged about wooing Hattie. All the brothers had ganged up on him and convinced him to make a fool of himself by reciting poetry to win her heart. When Edgar had been hung up on Fran, they’d formed a posse to confront him about his intentions.

  It seemed that his brothers intended to interfere in his relationship with Emma, but not to help him. Nope. They were intent on keeping him away from her.

  It hurt.

  Right now it was all he could do to keep from going to her. Maybe he would've embraced her. But he forced himself to stay in the chair at Matty's bedside.

  Meanwhile, the food on that tray was making his mouth water. The savory scent of venison and the yeasty scent of his ma’s sweet rolls tickled his nose. There were sweet potatoes and something green. Maybe peas.

  “That’s a lot of food for an invalid."

  She smiled a little. “Your mother sent it in for you. She said you missed supper because you were on patrol."

  That was Ma, paying attention even though her house was overrun with children and daughters-in-law. Making sure every mouth got fed.

  He shifted his feet in front of the chair. "I guess I'm not very hungry."

  She picked up the plate and rounded the bend, delivering it to him.

  He took it only because he knew she would wait him out. Stubborn woman.

  "You need to keep your strength up. We don't know how long this will last.”

  He could only hope and pray Tolliver would make a move soon. Things couldn’t go on this way. Tensions were high and tempers were short.

  Matty remained still in the bed, eyes closed and unaware of their low voices.

  For a moment, when Emma handed Seb the fork, he let his fingers close over hers.

  She didn’t pull away.

  There was so much he wanted to say to her. But his brothers obviously thought she was better off without him.

  And he was questioning everything. Maybe they were right.

  He didn’t know anymore.

  The first bite of venison exploded on his tongue with flavor. He shoveled in another, practically inhaling the food.

  He swallowed. "I guess I didn't realize how hungry I was."

  "You should let your ma take care of you. She's missed out on doing it since you left.”

  A weak voice came from the bed. "She's right. Sometimes the women in our lives know better than we do."

  Matty.

  Seb set aside his plate and clasped his brother’s hand as Emma went back around the bed to fetch Matty's bowl of broth.

  "It's good to hear your voice," Seb said. If his voice was a little husky with emotion, he couldn't help it.

  Matty turned his head slightly on the pillow, wincing. He must still be in pain. Guilt and shame sat on Seb's chest like a two-thousand-pound bull.

  "Where’s Catherine?"

  "She needed some rest. She's been by your side this whole time." Emma's soft words seemed to reassure him.

  Seb didn't know how much his brother was aware of. "We've got all the women and children staying close to the house. No one's going to get hurt."

  Matty's eyes closed in a slow blink. "Good." He seemed to breathe easier at that.

  Seb watched as Emma gently propped a pillow behind Matty’s shoulders. She lifted a glass of water to his lips. And then she helped settle the broth bowl so his brother could feed himself.

  Seb couldn’t keep his eyes off her, and she didn't have to turn her face for him to know that she was as aware of him as he was of her.

  But his brother’s sharp gaze—a lawman’s gaze—didn't miss a thing.

  "Seems like I missed something. Or you two have gotten closer since I've been out of it."

  Seb felt the tips of his ears get hot.

  It was Emma who answered, her voice soft but sure. "Nothing’s settled yet."

  “You can give me a hard time about that another day," Seb said. "Right now, if you feel up to it, I need you to try and remember what happened. How did Tolliver get the jump on you?"

  Matty frowned. "A lot of it is still fuzzy. Irma Moses made a report that someone stole her prize hog."

  The brothers shared a glance. Irma was still raising a hog each year for the founders’ day exhibition? She must be at least eighty years old.

  "She was sure someone had let him out. Her fence
wasn’t torn up or cut—I can't remember now why she thought someone was causing trouble." Matty pressed the heel of his hand to his temple as if thinking about it was making his head ache.

  "I rode out to her place to take a look around. I was on my way back, skirting the Eldrich place because I didn't want to get caught in a conversation that would last all afternoon." The brothers shared a glance. Ma Eldrich could talk the ear off a mule.

  Seb had forgotten this. Forgotten how he and his brothers could read each other without speaking. Forgotten what it felt like to be a part of the family and the community.

  Matty’s smile faded as he went on. “I met Richards—your Tolliver—at church once, I think. He seemed friendly. When he rode up to me and told me he'd seen what he thought was a body down in the creek, I believed him. We rode together until we reached a little gully. I went ahead of him, but he”—Matty shook his head—“he attacked me from behind. Got in a blow to my head that made me dizzy. I fought back. I'm pretty sure I got in at least one blow. I couldn’t get to my rifle. That’s all I remember.”

  It wasn’t much to go on. Irma and the Eldriches lived south of Bear Creek. But that didn’t mean Tolliver was staying nearby. He could’ve followed Matty out of town and attacked him.

  They needed more clues. And Seb was out of ideas.

  17

  Cecilia jumped as the front door swung open. Her younger sister Velma darted inside, followed a few moments later by her adoptive mother, Sarah.

  Cecilia quickly crumpled the paper in her hand and slipped it and the two other letters from the kitchen table into the pocket of her apron.

  Velma scampered to her bedroom in the back of the house, but Sarah stopped in the kitchen. She smiled at Cecilia, but Cecilia couldn't help feeling that her mother’s sharp eyes hadn't missed a thing.

  It was difficult to be confined to such a small space. Cecilia understood the danger, but she chafed with little to no privacy.

  "The bread has another hour to go,” Cecilia said. “I was just getting ready to start the washing."

  There was no missing the yeasty scent of rising bread. And Cecilia had already lugged the washtub outside. She had two buckets for pumping water sitting on the step outside, waiting.

  After the school term ended, she’d been welcomed back into the bosom of the family. Early on, Sarah had asked whether she would be returning the following year. Cecilia had been noncommittal.

  Since then, Cecilia had sent several inquiries to nearby schools and to some of the instructors at the Cheyenne Normal School, where she'd received her teaching certificate.

  Yesterday, Oscar, her adoptive father, and two of her uncles had gone to town, scouting for Tolliver. Oscar had brought back three letters addressed to her, giving them to her with raised brows, but she’d only slipped them into her pocket without comment.

  This morning was the first time she’d been alone since. And though she’d only had a few moments to digest the news, it wasn’t good.

  The first two schools had no openings. The third had already filled their position for the next term.

  Cecilia had sent out a dozen inquiries, and these were only three letters. But she couldn’t help being disappointed.

  One year as a teacher, and she was already a failure.

  What was she going to do if she didn't get hired for the fall term?

  She forced the thought away. She couldn't think like that. Surely someone would be willing to take a chance on her, even if she couldn't provide a reference from her last teaching job.

  She couldn't countenance the thought of anything else. Her parents had paid for her schooling, and she was determined to pay them back. Oscar and Sarah had already done so much for her and her sisters when they’d taken them in when they’d been orphaned as young girls.

  Cecilia knew what they had given up to bring three little girls into their marriage. The debt Cecilia owed them was one that might never be repaid. But Cecilia was determined to try.

  “This morning your uncle found some tracks out west, past the creek,” Sarah said. “Papa has asked us to stay close to the main house.”

  Cecilia nodded.

  Sarah searched her face, and Cecilia couldn’t help being a tiny bit grateful that Seb’s arrival and the trouble he’d caused was taking the family’s attention away from her.

  She was deeply ashamed of what had happened during her spring term and how her job had ended. She was determined to make things right going forward.

  She was never going to make a mistake again. When she got her next job, she would be above reproach. She would stay far away from all single men in the community. And the married ones to boot. She’d learned her lesson. Men couldn't be trusted.

  All she had to do was find one school that would give her a chance.

  Sarah’s nose wrinkled, and she glanced out the window.

  Cecilia followed her gaze, smelling smoke. What—?

  Velma shrieked from the back bedroom at the same moment Cecilia caught sight of flames rising from the barn.

  She rushed to the doorway, only a step behind Sarah.

  In the distance, smoke billowed in a terrifying cloud.

  * * *

  Seb's throat burned. His eyes watered. He couldn't draw a full breath, even with a wet handkerchief tied over his face.

  It hadn’t taken long to figure out that the fire had been set on purpose. There’d been no lightning strike to set it off. It had traversed the field in a wall of flames too wide to be accidental.

  Every single person who could help was fighting the fire. Even Walt and Andrew were on the bucket brigade trying desperately to stop the flames, which were coming closer to the house every minute.

  Oscar had wasted no time in hitching a pair of horses to the plow. He was attempting to turn over a wide enough swath of dirt to form a windbreak. It might be their only chance to save the family home.

  One wall of the barn was burning, and they’d released all the horses from inside.

  There was a storm brewing on the horizon, but right now the wind was against them, blowing ash and smoke into their eyes and making it impossible to draw a full breath. He prayed for the rain to hit fast and hard, to extinguish the fire.

  Seb kept scouring the horizon. Wouldn't Tolliver want to watch? Was he out there right now?

  Seb worked to beat down flames in the grass with a wet blanket. He felt a prickle of awareness as if the man’s eyes were on him right now.

  Seb was angry. Angry that someone would purposely burn down his family's livelihood. Angry that he had brought this down on them. It was his fault. All his fault.

  Someone screamed.

  He wheeled to see Velma’s skirt had caught fire. Edgar was nearby and grabbed her, bodily pulling her away. He set her on the ground to smother the smoking fabric.

  The wind gusted, blowing smoke into his face, and Seb lost sight of them for a moment.

  He couldn’t leave his post. Had to trust that his brother would protect Velma.

  Tolliver had wanted to hurt his family. And he was doing it.

  How could Seb fight against someone when he didn’t know what direction the danger was coming from?

  Jonas ran toward Seb, shouting and waving his arms. Seb backed away from the wall of flames.

  “The barn’s going to go. We need to get the women and kids to a safer spot."

  Seb looked at his pa. Only Jonas’s eyes were visible with the handkerchief over his face. They were filled with resignation.

  Seb wanted to weep.

  They were going to lose everything. And it was all Seb's fault.

  “Pa, I'm sorry." He choked on the words, on the smoke.

  Jonas clamped his shoulder, but that only made it worse. They jogged back toward the farmhouse. He wished he’d never come home.

  And then Fran was running out of the house, terror in her expression. Rose was on her heels.

  “We can't find Emma!"

  * * *

  Emma lay on her belly, hal
fway hanging off the horse of the man she’d known as Richards.

  How could she have been so stupid?

  She’d been inside, content that she was helping fight the fire by minding the children. But when Ida, who had been keeping up a running commentary from the window, had cried out that the barn was going up in flames, Emma had felt a fierce need to do something more.

  She’d gone to stand on the back porch, hoping that someone would pass close enough for her to ask whether there was a way she could help.

  And standing outside the house had been enough.

  A strong arm had banded around her waist even as a hand clamped over her nose and mouth. She’d tried to struggle, but it’d been no use as Tolliver had dragged her around the side of the house—out of view of Seb and his family—and onto his horse.

  Right now she felt like a sack of flour. A badly-used sack of flour.

  The pommel horn dug into her side, but she dared not move, fearing she’d be thrown from the animal and break her neck.

  Tears rolled down her face, but she'd stop screaming after the second blow to the side of her head. She could feel a knot forming above her ear.

  She couldn't quite believe this was happening. The smell of smoke had lessened and finally faded altogether, which meant they had already covered a significant distance.

  She had no sense of direction, only air rushing past as the man pushed the horse in a wild gallop. How long had it been? They could already be miles away.

  Seb must be crazy with worry. And Fran.

  If Emma could just find a way to escape… But that was an unrealistic hope, wasn't it?

  She didn’t know where she was.

  Without her sight, she didn’t know if there were any houses nearby. Any people working in the fields who might be willing to help her. She didn't even know if there was a copse of trees or a gully that she could escape into and avoid detection.

  She tried to remember the different ways Seb and Edgar had taught her to defend herself, back when she’d been on the run from Underhill. But her mind was flying in so many directions, like a flock of sparrows scattering at the sound of a gunshot.