Solitary Horseman (21 page)

“Son, don’t waste bullets on this dung heap,” Seth drawled. “Mister, I don’t know who the hell you are, but you seem to be thick-headed. If the bullet aimed in your direction didn’t send a strong enough message, then listen tight.” The older man stuck out his jaw and glared at Taylor. “Get off our land and stay off it. You’re not welcome here.”

Taylor managed a half-smile, but he turned his horse around. “You ought to listen to your cousin, Latimer. He has the smarts in the family.” He set spur to horseflesh and rode away.

Banner let out her breath in a rush. She looked from Seth to Callum; two men cut from the same cloth.

“Who is he?” she asked. “Where do you know him from?”

“He’s been at the meetings in town,” Callum said, holstering his gun. “His name is Bob Taylor and he’s good buddies with Eller.”

“Figures,” Seth said. “He’s the type Eller would stick to like a bur. Big mouth and little balls.”

Callum chuckled. “Banner, we should—”

“Here comes Hollis.” Seth nodded at the horizon where Hollis on horseback was silhouetted against the orange and pink sky.

“’Bout time,” Callum grumbled under his breath, then he jogged down the steps and strode out to greet him, leaving her to wonder what he’d been about to say to her.

She was standing in the kitchen washing breakfast dishes when the sound of raised voices pierced her woolgathering and Banner glanced up from the gray, soapy water. Through the wavy window panes, she spotted Callum and Eller standing less than a foot apart, glaring daggers at each other, their hands balled into fists. Puffs of fog accompanied each bitten out word, but she couldn’t make out the conversation. Only that they were almost shouting at each other.

What in heaven’s name is going on now?

Drying her hands on a dishtowel, she walked to the back door and opened it. Callum’s voice cut through the brittle air.

“. . . yellow-bellied sonsofbitches.”

“Watch it, Cal. I won’t stand here and be—”

“What? What the hell are you going to do, Eller, when it’s only you and me, face to face?”

Not wanting to be an interloper, Banner retreated to the kitchen, closing the door on the raised voices, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking out the window at the warring cousins. Just when she was afraid fists were going to fly, Callum took a backward step as if he’d been sucker punched. He stared at Eller for a few seconds, then shook his head in a slow, chastising way.

Eller said something that Callum responded to with a dismissive wave of his hand. Callum hitched up his coat collar and slapped his gloved hands together before sticking his right one out to Eller for a quick but hearty shake.

Perplexed by the swift change of temperaments, Banner couldn’t imagine what had transpired. Obviously, they’d been ready to tear into each other and then,
poof!
, they were shaking hands and walking away. Blinking, she realized that Callum was already at the back door, his long strides covering the snowy ground quickly. The scents of cattle, hay, and wet earth came in with him.

“You got a minute? I wanted to talk to you. Alone.”

Trepidation – or was it temptation? – swept through her. “Want a cup of coffee?”

“Yes. Thanks.” He removed his hat and gloves, dropping them in one of the kitchen chairs before peeling out of his heavy coat. “Feels good in here.” He sidled closer to the cook stove. “The wind is like a knife out there.”

Closer to him, she noticed pink patches of skin across his high cheekbones. “You should cover your face with your kerchief or scarf so that the wind doesn’t chap your skin.” She handed him a mug of hot coffee.

He frowned at that. “You sound like my mama. Let’s sit.” He nodded at the table and waited for her to take a seat before he turned one of the chairs around and straddled it. Resting his forearms across the back, he cradled the warm mug in his big hands for a few moments before he took a sip of the black brew.

“What were you and Eller arguing about out there? I heard you shouting at each other.”

He drew his brows together. “I was aiming to fire him.”

“Fire him?” She was surprised at the relief that flooded her. “What for?”

“Because he’s riding with the men who put that sign on the barn and murdered Decker.”

Although she suspected as much, hearing it said aloud startled her and she closed her eyes for a few moments to gather herself. “He admitted that?”

“Of course not. If he wanted people to know what he was doing, he wouldn’t cover his face. They’re all cowardly coyotes, so they’ll deny everything.”

“So, you fired him.”
Thank God.

“No, I didn’t.” He sounded disgusted, and when his gaze lifted from the coffee mug to her, regret had darkened it. “Lilah’s with child.”

The news rocked Banner back and she slumped in the chair.

“I was on the verge of telling him to clear out. Then he said he’d promised Lilah not to do anything dangerous now that he’s going to be a father.” He took another gulp of coffee and swiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I could let him go without another thought about it. But with Lilah in that condition . . .” He shook his head.

“Do you think the baby is Eller’s?” Banner asked, voicing the question that burned in her mind. From the quick intake of Callum’s breath, she realized that he hadn’t questioned it until that moment. His eyes rounded with worry. “You think it might be Ben’s.”

She bobbed one shoulder. “Anything’s possible.”

He ran a hand down his face. “Hell, I hope not. I think Ben’s got enough sense to pull out before—” He stopped himself, his gaze darting to hers. “Ben’s not a green boy.”

Banner ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at his embarrassment at discussing intimate precautions. “And I’m not a green girl,” she assured him.

He studied her and she thought that he was both surprised and intrigued by her retort. “I don’t believe Eller. I think he’s as thick as thieves with the vigilantes.”

“When is Altus Decker’s funeral? Have you heard?”

“I believe it’s tomorrow morning. Why? You’re not thinking of going to it, are you?”

“Yes. You don’t mind if I take off work for a few hours, do you?”

“Why do you want to go? You didn’t like him.”

“True, I didn’t, but if anyone’s looking, I want them to see that I abhor what happened to him.”

He drank some of the coffee as he continued to drink her in. “Being there could be asking for more trouble.”

“I’m certainly not going to let anyone keep me from doing what I think is right and proper.”

“If you insist on going, I’ll go with you.” Setting the mug on the table, he rested his chin on his folded arms along the back of the chair. “I talked to the ranch hands this morning and told them that I wasn’t going to give an inch to the vigilante group. I told them if they didn’t want to be stuck in the trouble that will undoubtedly cause, they’re all free to leave.”

“You did?” She pressed a hand to her thudding heart. “You fired everyone?”

“No,” he said, his tone placating. “I gave them fair warning is all. Nobody has made tracks yet.”

“And if they do, just how do you think you’ll see to the herd?”

“Me and Ben and his brothers along with Hollis could manage.”

“You didn’t tell them that they can leave, too?”

“I did, but I don’t think they’ll take me up on it.”

“I don’t think any of them will, but that’s beside the point.”

“Oh? What’s the point?”

“That you act as if you can live your life by yourself. That you can take care of this ranch, the herd, and
my
herd without depending on anyone else.”

“I’ve never said that.”

“No, but you don’t invite people to stand by your side either. I’ve watched you. The other men work in pairs, but you go off alone. I’d like a dollar for every time I’ve noticed you and Butter at the crest of that far hill I can see from the front porch. Just you. No other rider with you.”

“You’re making too much of it. I work with the others. You just don’t see it.”

“I asked Hollis about it and he says you don’t even pair up with Ben, whom you seem the closest to.”

“Hollis is one to talk. If he’s not a loner, then I’m a gadfly.”

“You’re right, but Hollis has always been a loner. You haven’t been. I used to never see you without one or both of your brothers at your side.” She noted the way his eyes shuttered and the downward dip of his lips. He heaved a sigh and braced his hands on the table, getting ready to find his feet, so she gripped his wrist to keep him in place. “Don’t shut me out, Callum. I understand. Believe me, I do. You never wanted to be on this ranch without your brothers. I imagine that every day you’re out there, you see them and remember how it was when you were all together. No brothers were closer than the Latimers.”

“I don’t want to talk about this. Does no good.” His tone was flat.

“To talk about them? To remember the good times? Isn’t it up to us to tell the stories of their lives and how much they were loved?” She ran her thumb along the inside of his wrist in a comforting gesture, feeling his strong, steady pulse. “You’re not cut out to be a loner, Callum. It’s not in your nature.”

His expression was hard. “I don’t need you to fix me, Banner.”

The cold splash of his words made her snatch her hand from his wrist. “What does that mean? I’m not . . .” She shook her head, confused by his cool regard.
I don’t need you.
That part of what he’d said stung.

He finished the coffee, his brow furrowed. “Just don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself. Going to Decker’s funeral will rile some people.”

“I’m going.” She traded him, stubborn stare for stubborn stare. “You don’t have to come with me.” Years of taunts and sneers came back on her, obliterating everything except for her stinging feelings. “You don’t have to be
seen
with me.”

“Just what the hell does that mean? I’m trying to protect you, damn it.”

“Protect me or you? Did you come to your senses, Callum? Did you remember who I am? A dirty Payne?”

“That’s a load of bullshit and you know it.” He pushed up to his feet, towering over her.

She laughed under her breath at how foolish she was to think this spark of desire between them would be more than that for him. For days now, he’d been pushing her away, putting more and more distance between them. She looked up at him, letting him see the glimmer of sadness in her eyes.

The air seemed to overheat and she sensed the coldness in him melt as if in a flashfire. He gripped her upper arms and pulled her up to meet his descending mouth. He made a strangled sound as his hands moved from her arms to her waist and then to her hips. He pressed her closer until she could feel the bite of his belt buckle and the hammering of his heart.

Passion flamed through her, shocking her with its intensity. He trailed kisses from the corner of her eye down her cheek and along the curve of her neck, making her quiver with longing.

“You’re enough to drive a man insane, Banner,” he whispered, feverishly.

“I don’t know what I’ve done to push you away, but I’m sorry.”

He inched back from her, a frown marring his features. “I’m haven’t been . . .” He closed his eyes for a second and then nodded “Okay, maybe I have been. I just don’t want you to treat me as if I need looking after.”

It was her turn to frown. “Have I done that?” She smoothed his brow with her fingertips and he leaned the side of his face into her palm as he closed his eyes again on a long sigh. “I have every confidence in you, Callum Latimer,” she whispered, relieved that whatever barriers that had been between them seeme to be crumbling. “It’s just that those renegades want you on their side. You’re respected and powerful and it rankles them that you refuse to throw in with them.”

A rueful smile touched his lips. “I’m respected and powerful?”

“You are,” she affirmed and then repeated for good measure when he opened his eyes. “You
are
, Callum. You’re one of our war heroes and a Latimer.
The
Latimer now.”

He winced and lifted his face away from her hand. “I’m not a war hero.”

Her expression chided him. “You led men into the ugly maw of war. No one has forgotten that. Even Hollis, who doesn’t have anything good to say about the war, admires how you fought in it.” She rested her hands along his sides, under his ribs. “Be careful out there, Callum. Don’t ride alone all the time. It’s foolhardy and you’re no fool.”

After a few moments, he nodded slowly and ran a fingertip across her lips, smiling when she pursed them in a kiss.

“I’ll take you to the funeral,” he said, his voice husky with emotion as he eased away from her to grab his hat and coat. “I don’t like it, but I’ll do it.”

###

Altus Decker’s funeral was attended by more people than Banner would have ever believed possible. All of his ranch hands and house staff – eighteen by Banner’s head count – were present, along with a dozen or so neighbors and townspeople. Preacher Vancroft had declined to give the graveside sermon and prayer, leaving it to a preacher from the Rugged Cross Baptist Church on the outskirts of Piney Ridge. Its congregation was made up almost entirely of freed slaves and Yankees of all colors. To her knowledge, Altus had never set foot in that church.

They all stood in the Piney Ridge cemetery around the coffin while the brown-skinned preacher told of Decker’s determination to be a well-respected rancher in a part of the country that was still hostile toward people born and bred in the eastern United States. She felt the tension radiating off Callum, who stood beside her, running his fingers along the brim of the black hat he held. His dress hat, she noted, glancing at his black trousers, black shirt, black tie, and dark grey vest. Handsome was too mild a word for how he looked. His ebony hair shone glossily in the sunlight and his green eyes moved restlessly, examining the faces around him, scouting for trouble.

“. . . lost all of his immediate family in the War Between the States,” the preacher’s sonorous voice rang out, lancing through her thoughts and wrenching her attention back to the services. “He wanted to make a new beginning here and find new friends and, God willing, start a new family. But it was not to be. He was struck down by unknown assassins in the prime of his life. May God have mercy on their souls for they have committed a grievous sin in murdering Mr. Decker when he meant no harm to anyone.”