Stuck Together (Trouble in Texas Book #3) (15 page)

Tina’s life might have hit a rough patch, but the mealtime ran as smooth as silk. The men all treated Mrs. Yates with an unexpected amount of kindness, as if they knew she was fragile. Or maybe she just made even the biggest lugs in town miss their mothers.

Mrs. Yates surprised Tina by working hard, too. The genteel woman, though somewhat confused, was a sturdy woman beneath her fluttering lashes and flirtatious smiles. She behaved as though this were a fancy party and the ramshackle crowd of unwashed men were her guests. Tin cups and gallon coffeepots didn’t stop her from being a gracious hostess.

Enough of the men in town had heard of the way Mrs. Yates had run off yesterday and that she was a bit addled. On more than one occasion, when the Southern belle tried to leave the diner, the men would abandon their venison steaks and redirect her, usually by asking for more coffee. Add to that Ruthy and her inability to stop working, and the absence of Vince and his Regulator friends, including Jonas—who was absent for his own reasons—and it was
the easiest dinner since Tina had somehow gotten stuck with this job.

Which didn’t mean her life wasn’t collapsing on her head.

Finally the men finished and cleared out. Tina made up plates of steak and potatoes for the work crew. Paul and Janny took their plates to Dare’s house, along with one to deliver to Lana in jail, and a meaty bone for Livvy. Glynna called after them, reminding them of their schoolwork.

Tina, with Ruthy’s help, carried in four plates. Tina’s feet hurt enough that as soon as she’d helped Mrs. Yates to the table, Tina sank onto the bench seat across from her. She chose a seat with her back to the front door, thinking she could better block an escape attempt from Virginia Belle. Tina was distracted from her feelings of rejection when Ruthy sat next to Virginia Belle and ran a hand over her rounding belly.

Glynna sat down next to Tina, across from Ruthy. Tina waited until all three ladies had food in their mouths, the better to avoid hearing their opinions, and announced, “I’ll be sleeping here tonight, Glynna.”

Mrs. Yates was apparently too refined to ever have a really large bite of food in her mouth, so she was able to respond immediately. “You can’t stay here alone, dear child. No, that would be improper, even scandalous for a single lady to live alone.”

Vince’s mother said it as if it were a pronouncement from on high and she’d settled everything. She took another tiny bite of her steak.

Glynna said, “Are you enjoying your meal, Mrs. Yates?”

“It’s lovely.” It was a testament to how hungry Virginia Belle was that she was diverted by the mention of food. Tina
thought maybe Vince’s mother should work hard every day. It might keep the woman at the meal table and prevent her from waking at night. They could use another waitress in this place. It’d give the youngsters a bit more time at their studies.

“Now then, it’s a simple thing to sleep here and come down to work in the morning.” Tina said a brief but sincere prayer to be forgiven for her extremely bad attitude toward her brother’s happiness.

“I saw two bedrooms upstairs,” Ruthy said. “Luke and I can stay here with you. Luke said he doesn’t want me going home until we find out who shot at us.”

“Land sakes!” Mrs. Yates’s hand went to her throat. “Someone shot at you?”

Ruthy flinched, and Tina was pretty sure Glynna had just kicked her in the ankle. “Mrs. Yates, that is such a pretty dress.”

And it was. Mrs. Yates made the rest of them look like the very first frontierswomen. Tina’s dresses had taken a beating since she’d come West. And putting on hoops and petticoats was just more trouble than it was worth.

Virginia Belle had on dark blue silk with a matching bonnet and reticule. The woman had a lace fan and any number of petticoats, most likely a corset and any number of other unmentionables. Getting the woman dressed in the morning wasn’t a job for amateurs.

“Someone,” Glynna said ominously, “will have to be at the boardinghouse in the evening to make sure”—she gave Vince’s ma a significant glance—“that all personal and intimate needs are dealt with. And that includes through the night when help might be required. The current boardinghouse owner can’t be expected to deal with such things.”

“Well, if Jonas and Melissa marry, they’ll have to stay at Asa’s, and I can’t stay there.” Not even to spare her own life would Tina change her mind about that. “A single woman and single man under one roof would be far more improper than staying here.”

Glynna shook her head.

“Tina . . .” Ruthy’s eyes narrowed as she studied Tina’s face. Tina was afraid a blush was creeping up her cheeks. “Your brother living there is enough to make it proper. Surely you and Vince can—”

The front door behind Tina swung open, which distracted Ruthy, thank heavens.

“She’s gone!” Paul rushed into the room with Janny just a step behind him.

Janny yelled, “Mrs. Bullard broke jail!”

The little brown-and-white foxhound came racing in with the children, yapping for all she was worth.

“She could be after Dare again.” Glynna jumped up and spun around so fast she nearly fell headfirst over the bench. She steadied herself and cried out, “We have to warn him!”

“Dare’s an hour’s ride away and we have no idea how long Lana’s been gone.” Tina knew the prisoner had been fed breakfast very early. But with the confusion of the morning, no one had been in the jailhouse since.

“Go get Jonas.” Tina had an un-admirable feeling of glee to give that order.

“Get Tug Andrews instead,” Ruthy cut in. “Jonas and Melissa have gone for a walk somewhere, and there’s no point in anyone traipsing out into the wilderness after them. Tug can close the general store for a couple of hours and ride out to our place. Lana may have run off, but if she’s
still close by, I’d prefer to have one of Luke’s friends stay near.”

The dog rushed to Mrs. Yates’s side and barked at her as if they’d been separated for ages. Oblivious to the unfolding crisis, Vince’s mother fed the hound a chunk of venison and patted its head.

“I’ll go with you.” Glynna skirted the table. “I don’t want you children running around town alone. Paul, let’s get your gun first.”

“No, Ma,” Paul said with a loud voice. Glynna, who was on her way to the back door, stopped and turned around. The boy had worn a pistol on his hip for a spell, mad at the world and determined to protect his ma. He’d calmed down since Glynna and Dare had married and had taken to leaving the gun and holster hanging from a hook at home. “I don’t think we should go home to get it. If Lana’s up to causing trouble like she did last time, Pa’s house might be where we’ll find her.”

Tina hadn’t been in Broken Wheel when Lana burned Dare’s house down, but she’d seen the pile of blackened timbers. And she’d arrived in time to staunch the blood when Dare had been stabbed. Then Tina had stood guard over Glynna’s children until Lana was caught and locked up. Since she’d been arrested, Lana hadn’t acted crazy at all. Yet Tina knew a thread of madness flowed through Lana Bullard, and no one could be sure when it would surface next.

Glynna hesitated, then said, “Tug is right next door. We’ll go straight there.”

Though her desire to pester Jonas was uncharitable, Tina wondered if her brother was safe. They really did need to
warn him. “Go on. I’ll stand at the door and watch. Janny, you stay here with us. Ruthy and I need to keep an eye on Virginia Belle.”

Glynna looked between her daughter and son with such worry that Tina felt the weight of it.

With a jerk of her chin, Glynna said to Paul, “Let’s go.”

They were gone, with the door slammed behind them, before anyone could think of more to worry about.

Tina rushed to the front door to watch them dart safely into Tug’s store.

Turning back to the room, Tina noticed Ruthy standing by the door to the kitchen, guarding against an escape attempt by Virginia Belle. It was a good idea for them both to keep Mrs. Yates’s safety in the forefront of their minds. Having her wander off, and possibly run into Lana outside of town, could turn a jailbreak into a tragedy.

They were near the entrance to the canyon, on the trail where Luke had found the whiskey bottles. The plan was to look for tracks, which was something Luke excelled at.

Vince figured if Luke couldn’t tell more about who’d left behind those bottles, none of them could.

Luke raised a hand, signaling the group to stop. “Red Wolf should be close,” he said.

Red Wolf, Luke’s Kiowa friend who’d taught Luke to read sign, would be a better hand at tracking than Luke. Vince’s hopes rose.

A harsh sound that might be some kind of birdcall came from behind a tumble of flat red rocks, all stacked this
way and that, some the size of wagon wheels, and others big enough to serve as a foundation for a one-room cabin.

Luke responded with a similar bird cry. Soon Red Wolf stepped out from behind the boulders. Luke rode forward and swung off his horse to shake his friend’s hand, both of them grabbing each other by the elbow. Luke said something in Kiowa that Vince couldn’t understand.

It could be “Hello,” or it could be “Is one of your people trying to kill me?”

Vince had learned a few words when he’d helped care for Red Wolf’s Kiowa village during a measles outbreak. But unless Luke or Red Wolf said, “Swallow this medicine,” Vince wasn’t going to be of much use.

Red Wolf started heading for the canyon. Luke ground-hitched his horse and followed him. Vince had a well-trained horse, so he did the same as Luke, yet he waited for Dare, who was busy tying his cantankerous mare to a mesquite tree. They were a few steps behind and got into the canyon in time to see Luke and Red Wolf crouch down by a patch of dirt.

“Come in careful,” Luke said, pivoting on his boots. “We don’t wanna stir up any tracks.”

Vince and Dare both slowed. They exchanged a glance and then began scouring the ground around their feet before every step.

There wasn’t much to see, and Vince considered himself to be a fair hand at following a trail. The ground was rocky, and plenty of sand scudded along in the buffeting winter wind, erasing any tracks that had been left.

Luke and Red Wolf moved farther apart, eyes fixed on the ground.

Vince had about decided it was a pure waste of time when a scrub juniper blew sideways and something glinted right near its roots. The roots grew next to a big round slab of shale or sandstone about two feet high and six feet in diameter.

“Luke, get over here,” Vince called. “And mind where you walk.” Kneeling well back of the shiny, mostly buried object, he tried to make it out without disturbing the ground around it. A glance up told him that Red Wolf wore some bright beads, and Vince remembered others in his tribe liked to adorn their clothing.

But this didn’t quite fit. Luke and Red Wolf came close, searching for tracks so thoroughly that it took a long time. Glancing sideways, Vince saw Dare hanging back. He knew better than to get too close, but he was paying attention.

“What is it?” Luke was near enough to see what looked like the glint of metal, though maybe it was a shiny streak in the rock. Not being sure, Vince wasn’t ready to start digging.

Using English, Red Wolf said, “I had a young warrior come in stumbling, acting the fool because he’d had the devil’s brew you white men sell.”

The devil’s brew, that had been on Tina’s placard. Or was it demon rum? Kinda the same thing, and she’d had several signs over the past few months. Vince had to squelch a smile as he thought of her and her feisty battle against Duffy and his saloon.

She was so pretty that the men mostly
liked
her standing outside the tavern. They considered her a slightly pesky greeter at the door and weren’t averse to hearing a few words from her, looking at her soft blond curls that made
a man think she wore a halo, and getting a close-up view of her bright blue eyes that glowed like the blue at the heart of a clean-burning lantern. Yep, they liked that moment of her time even if it meant they got a finger wagged under their noses and a sermon on the evils of demon rum. And that accusing finger . . . she had the prettiest, most delicate little hands, and even when scolding someone, her voice rang like the song of church bells. She even—