Texas Lonesome (11 page)

Sidney crossed her arms. “Who says I’m playing? He offered me a ride and I took it. Is that against the law?”

Dustin shook his head.

“Thought as much,” she said. “Since this is your hometown, I’m pretty sure you won’t shoot Noah in cold blood.”

In the dim light, he almost missed her lifted eyebrow. “You have my word.”

If that was how she was playing the situation, that was fine with him. Let Cradle coddle her; he was tired.

“Wake up, Chaim,” he said. “We’re leaving.” Turning back to Sidney, he said, “When you get out to the ranch, knock on the door. I’ll let Maria know you’re on your way.”

C
radle Hupton was back in twenty minutes, the buggy hitched and ready to go.

For the hundredth time, Sidney silently cursed her quick temper for letting Dustin ride off with her brother. If the situation were reversed, would her pa allow a McCutcheon on their land and in their house? She didn’t think so. His bitterness was tragic, eating at him night and day. What if the man he hated, Winston McCutcheon, flew into a rage when he saw Noah, and pulled out a gun and killed him?

The buggy bounced in a deep rut, jarring her teeth—and her thoughts.

Mr. Hupton’s glance was contrite. “Sorry, Miss Calhoun. Those potholes are a mite difficult to see in the moonlight. I’ll try and be more careful.”

She smiled. “No problem. I assure you I won’t break. This seat is mighty comfortable.”

The large eyes of the sturdy smithy made him look like an overgrown calf, complete with an abundance of dark lashes that would make any saloon girl jealous. He had a wholesome innocence about him that made her feel completely comfortable in his presence, even though they’d just met. Surely, Dustin wouldn’t have let her ride off into the darkness with the man unless he was trustworthy. And neither would Doc Bixby. Sidney had liked the welcoming warmth in the old doctor’s gaze from the moment he’d walked up.

“That’s good to hear. I wouldn’t want your brothers to come gunnin’ for me.”

Frowning, she glanced in his direction. She wasn’t used to hearing her brothers referred to in a disparaging way.

“If you were to break, I mean,” he added.

She laughed, trying for a little levity. “I can assure you that won’t happen.”

He shrugged and turned his shy gaze back to the road.

“I appreciate this ride. It’s very kind of you, especially at this time of night.” She glanced up at the full moon. “I suppose outlaws and Comancheros feel this is too close to Rio Wells for marauding?”

Ever since the attack today, after the McCutcheons had told her and Noah that the ride from San Antonio would be uneventful, she wasn’t trusting anyone.

“Oh, absolutely, Miss Calhoun. You don’t have to worry. Rio Wells has grown. We have ranches scattered out here among the rolling hills. You can’t see ’em, but it’s pretty civilized. We haven’t had any trouble since four months back.”

Again, she glanced at him, this time with a raised brow. “Four months, you say?” She still had her loaded Colt strapped to her thigh.

“That’s right, last June. Can’t count those murders, though. They were arranged by the town’s skunk of a banker—but he’s gone now, hung by a rope until dead. He’d hired a band of Comancheros to do his dirty work. They attacked a stage and killed a bunch of poor, unsuspecting folks. Later, he even had Dustin and Chaim’s cousin kidnapped and left in a hot box to die.”

“Cousin?”

“You bet. Charity McCutcheon. She’s from the Montana clan of McCutcheons, and was here visiting.” Cradle chuckled as he guided the buggy off the main road and onto a smaller one. “You’re completely safe. As I said, since then and before, Rio Wells is a pretty dull place. Now, when you get out in the badlands or San Antonio, well, I can’t promise you anything there.”

The silhouette of a tall saguaro on the far horizon surrounded by stars snagged her attention.
That doesn’t sound too promising.

“Or the Rim Rock.”

She glanced at his profile. “Why, Mr. Hupton? Because of Mr. McCutcheon? Winston?”

He shrugged. Seemed he didn’t want to speak about his friends.

“Is that what you meant? I can’t imagine it’s anything different. I appreciate the heads-up.”

“I don’t like to say, being, well, I just don’t. That said, everyone knows about the trouble between the McCutcheons and the Calhouns.”

“I’m sure,” she said, taking a hold of the handrail. “Why wouldn’t he calumniate my family every chance he got? He had to do something to cover his dirty tracks.”

Cradle straightened and snapped the reins over Chester’s back with force. “I didn’t say that. I’ve never heard Winston, or any other McCutcheon, say a bad word about the Calhouns.” He reined Chester away from a deep rut before the wheel had a chance to hit. “Actually, I can’t remember how I heard about the dispute, or what exactly was said. Word got around, but everyone knows Winston would never do anything dishonest.”

Cradle’s praise for Dustin’s father stirred her anger, but she held her tongue. She’d said as much as she should, taking into consideration Cradle seemed to be a good friend of the family.

For the rest of the ride, she anchored her gaze out on the horizon, mentally preparing herself for the battle. These McCutcheons sure had pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes. The situation was nauseating, to say the least.

“You’re what?” Winston McCutcheon barked. Coffee sloshed over the rim of the mug completely forgotten in his hand. “Of all the stupid, idiotic things I’ve ever heard, this takes the prize. I won’t allow it!”

His pa had been sitting in his office when he and Chaim arrived. Plagued by insomnia, his father usually killed several hours a night behind his desk. He’d heard their entry and met them as they came through the front door, a welcoming smile on his face that was now nowhere to be seen.

Straightening to his full height, Dustin met his father eye to eye. He didn’t appreciate the fact his pa was accusing
him
of wrongdoing when the blame lay at the feet of good old Judge Halford. His father’s long-time friend had a sick sense of humor.

“If I could change the situation, Pa, you know I would! Ol’ man Halford was set. He was quite amused about it too.” He glanced at Chaim for confirmation. “If you have a bone to pick, then go see him. I wouldn’t bring this down on our heads—
your head—
if I could have avoided it.”

“That’s right, Pa,” Chaim, the peacekeeper of the family, calmly agreed. He inched his way between Dustin and Winston. “It’s not forever. The sentence will pass quickly.”

“Sage words.” Dustin shifted his weight.

If only Pa had been asleep
.
I wanted to save this confrontation until the morning, when we’re all rested.

Chaim hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Calhoun’s tucked away in the bunkhouse with strict orders to Manolito to keep an eye on him. Nothin’s gonna happen. Except we’ll have a new hand for a short time.”

“A rattlesnake nesting with my men,” Winston hollered. “Now that thought makes me happy. How many times have the Calhoun boys gone to cuffs with you in Kansas?”

He glared at Dustin, and then at Chaim. “Too many times to count! And what about the window in his sleeping quarters? It’s large enough for him to sneak out. I trust him as much as I trust his father. Which is not at all! How did this transpire, anyway? Why the Rim Rock?”

Chaim’s face colored and Dustin swallowed a groan. “Halford picked us randomly out of the crowd.”

“I heard all that! But I don’t believe it. Halford knows how I feel about Jock Calhoun. Hell,
everybody
does.” Unmindful of the others in the house, he shouted, his angry voice ricocheting off the walls like a gunshot in a canyon. “Jock Calhoun’s sole purpose in life is to besmirch the McCutcheon name. I won’t have any of his offspring on my land.”

Dustin chanced a look at Chaim. They hadn’t yet broken the news about Sidney—and her staying in the house. Before long, she’d knock on the door.

“You make them sound like cattle, Pa. Be reasonable.”

“Reasonable?” Winston clapped down his mug on the entry table next to the wall, and then pushed an aggravated hand through his sleep-disheveled hair, his mouth a hard, straight line. “I’ve been nothing but reasonable
and charitable
, for so many years concerning Jock Calhoun that the whole thing has become a joke,” he spat contemptuously. “And how am I repaid?”

His glowing red face looked as if he’d bitten into one of Maria’s enchiladas filled with jalapeños. A sheen slicked his tall forehead.

“With more lies, more slander!” He turned to Dustin with the eyes of a hawk. “Wait a minute. Did you just say
them
?”

Now was
not
the best time to bring up Sidney. In his whole life, Dustin had never seen such an angry outburst from his father. The man needed to settle down before something really awful happened. His pa wasn’t a spring rooster anymore.

Winston jumped into his next question, seeming to have forgotten his last. “What did you do, Dustin, to get this albatross hung around your neck? I know there’s something! You’re not innocent in all this. Why did Butch pick you out of all the people in the courtroom? A decision like that wasn’t random; I know it.” His father jabbed a finger in his direction. “Spit it out!”

Dustin held his temper in check. Escalating the situation wouldn’t help with Sidney only a few minutes away. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I did have something to do with his decision.”

Winston glared.

“If you remember, John and I busted up a restaurant in San Antonio on the night of his wedding. We both apologized and paid restitution. Halford did mention—”

“I
knew
it!” Winston shook his head vehemently. “So, this debacle does come down to
your
temper—again. You’ll never learn, will you? And don’t you dare lay any of that blame at John’s door. It was his wedding night. I’m sure he wasn’t out looking for a fight!”

His mother appeared from the hallway. “What in heavens is going on out here, Winston?” she asked, cinching the tie of her robe around her middle.

Her concerned gaze searched the room, and when she spotted him and Chaim, safely back from their trip to San Antonio, she smiled briefly before looking again at him. Her long hair fell freely around her shoulders, and thick socks covered her feet.

She hurried over to Chaim, pulled him down to kiss his cheek, and then did the same with him. Becky and Madeline shuffled into the room, their sleep-filled gazes wide with anxiety.

“Welcome home, boys,” his mother added, her brows pulled together in worry. A look Dustin knew well passed over her face. “Well? Has something happened?”

Something had happened, all right. And she was about to knock on their ranch house door at any moment.

T
he buggy rounded a bend in the road and the Rim Rock Ranch came into view. The name of that ranch was burned into Sidney’s heart. Even in the moonlight, the grandeur of the place was easy to see. So splendid, so rich—
so prosperous.
Several windows glowed from a light within.

Nerves tickled deep inside her stomach. Would Dustin be there? Would Mr. McCutcheon? Where was Noah, and was he safe? Could she dare hope they’d all gone to bed, and only the maid would be waiting, as Dustin had alluded to? Facing Winston McCutcheon tomorrow morning sounded so much better than facing him now.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered under her breath, knowing the words she spoke came straight from the same angry heart that cursed the day Winston McCutcheon had been born.

The sprawling ranch house had white adobe walls, large glass windows, and an array of flowering potted plants she knew would be even more gorgeous in the light of day. Her stomach muscles bunched. Their ranch back in Santa Fe was beautiful in its own right, as well. But her home wasn’t nearly as large, and the place didn’t speak to the soul as this ranch seemed to be doing to hers.

She pushed away her envy. This wasn’t about their success, but the way their riches were won at the expense of her father. Winston McCutcheon was to blame for her father’s scars, inside and out. Jock Calhoun had been left with a limp, a twisted spine, and half an ear gone. And those were only the outside scars. Inside, he was much worse. He still functioned on the ranch, to a point. Not a second went by that Sidney didn’t see the scorn he held for Dustin’s father burning deep inside. She couldn’t blame him one bit.

People around here might think Winston innocent, but she knew better. And so did Noah. As much as she was hardened to the McCutcheons, she prayed her younger brother wouldn’t do anything foolish during his sentence here. Something that would really land him in trouble. She wondered where he was. In the house? Certainly not.

“Whoa, Chester,” Cradle crooned softly to his gelding. “Here we are.”

He hopped out of the buggy and hurried around to her side, offering her—a woman dressed in dust-covered pants, a shirt smelling like horse, and a sweat-stained cowboy hat—his hand.

Feeling very small in the shadow of the large home, Sidney had to clasp her fists tightly to keep Cradle from seeing them shake. Why hadn’t she listened to Dustin and rode in with the men, with Noah? The confrontation would be over, and she would have had Dustin at her side. What if Winston was the only one awake? She’d go toe-to-toe with him, but she wouldn’t like it. She had no other option but to knock on the front door and see who was there.

She glanced at Cradle, thankful for his presence and friendship.

“Don’t be scared, Miss Calhoun. No one will bite your head off, despite what you may think. The McCutcheons are a fine family. If I know Winston and Winnie, which I do very well, they’ll welcome you with open arms, despite your last name.”

They walked up to the front door that must have been over nine feet tall. Cradle picked up the cactus-shaped iron knocker and gave it a gentle
rap-rap-rap
. He turned and smiled.

Sidney breathed in deeply, trying to fortify her nerves.

As if he’d been waiting by the door, an imposing man appeared at the instant the barrier opened. He was every bit as tall as Dustin, and looked every bit as strong. Gray streaks lightened his thick chestnut-colored hair. Lines born of hard work, responsibility, and heartache, she was sure, fanned out from his dark brown eyes. His firm expression held parts of Dustin and Chaim.

Winston McCutcheon in the flesh!

Too late!
Too late to explain that Noah’s older sister was traveling with him to make sure they treated her brother fairly.

Dustin stood behind his father, his nerves pinging from tension. Who knew Cradle would get out here so quickly?

After the first heated exchange with his pa where the news about Noah rattled him more than Dustin had ever seen, he’d hoped the livery owner would take his time arriving at the ranch. If he had, maybe his pa would have been in bed before Sidney came through the door.

Not so.

Several uncomfortable seconds dragged out. His pa stood there for a moment before glancing back at him, his eyes filled with questions. Sidney’s back was so straight, they could have used her as a level. His pa was a smart man. He’d already put two and two together.

“Please, come in,” Winston said, his deep, commanding voice filling the room. He looked from Sidney to Hupton. “Cradle. Miss Calhoun, isn’t it? Don’t stand out there on the doorstep.”

A surprised murmur sounded from his sisters, and his mother joined Winston at the door.

Despite her bravado, Dustin knew Sidney must be frightened, facing down her father’s adversary with nothing more than her tongue, sweat-covered clothes, and a pound of trail dust. She’d never say so, of course, but she didn’t have to.

Dustin’s conflicting emotions tied his tongue for a moment, but he felt Chaim’s support at his shoulder. Could he himself handle this situation as gracefully as his father was doing, after all the years of heartache and anger Sidney’s father had caused this family? Hearing her knock, Dustin had wanted to answer the door himself, but Pa had halted him in his tracks with only a look. Had Sidney heard the angry exchange only moments before?

The gun! He’d forgotten about her .45 Colt still strapped to her thigh. No crazy possibility existed that she’d use the weapon on his father, was there?

As Sidney stepped through the door as regal as a queen, Cradle waved a greeting to the family and stepped back.

“The hour’s late. I best get back to town.”

Quickly, Sidney turned. “Thank you so much, Mr. Hupton. I appreciate the ride a great deal. Your chivalry speaks volumes.”

Several moments of silence encompassed the room after Cradle closed the door on his way out, and everyone digested the awkward turn of events.

“Dustin and Chaim have told me of your brother’s situation in San Antonio. How he landed in jail,” his pa said, going straight to the heart of the matter. “And how Judge Halford took liberties in designating Dustin as his guardian.”

Even though the muscle in his father’s jaw clenched several times, Dustin was amazed at his civil tone and stoic countenance. A gentleman through and through. Pride for the man who had raised him filled Dustin’s chest.

“I can assure you,” Sidney replied, looking Winston in the eye, and then toward the others, “Noah is innocent of the charges. He told me so himself. He didn’t break up the Morning Star Saloon. The regulars just wanted someone to blame so they wouldn’t have to pay for damages. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Nothing more.” Her gaze traveled the room.

Despite her upward-tipped chin and the obstinate set to her mouth, Dustin knew she must be exhausted. It was late, already ten minutes past two. The memory of her clinging to his back behind his saddle as she peppered the outlaws with bullets, all without a moment of protest or fear, brought a squeezing to his throat. Who knew? Maybe he owed her his life.

“We’re not any happier with this arrangement than you are,” Sidney said. “Rio Wells is the last place we want to be. And especially on the Rim Rock Ranch.”

Dustin wished she’d gentle her tone, at least a little. His father had done so for her.

Her gaze, although appearing arrogant, was shadowed with vulnerability as it skimmed over him once more, as if he were no more important than a cow patty left in the field to dry.

“If I hadn’t lost my horse and saddlebags in a gunfight your sons assured me wouldn’t happen, I’d still have the ability to stay in the hotel tonight. I’m sorry to impose.” Her voice wobbled when her gaze touched his mother’s face.

“Dustin!” his mother said, her tone rebuking him.

“I offered her money, Mother, but she wouldn’t take it.”

Please don’t mention not accepting charity from a McCutcheon. Not tonight. Not now.

“Tomorrow, I’ll send a telegram home,” Sidney went on, thankfully skipping over that bone of contention. “My family will send funds.”

Dustin didn’t know how much more his father could take, although it seemed as if she were steering away from the topic of her father on purpose. He appreciated that, at least.

“Surely, the hotel will give me credit until then.”

Her regard kept returning to his mother and sisters. Something there, in the back of her eyes, made Dustin’s heart beat a little quicker. A defenselessness of sorts. Like a baby bunny searching for its mother in a den of wolves.

Winston tented a thick brow. “We’ll make sure that happens. Dustin?”

“Absolutely.”

“You really have no need to stay in the hotel, my dear,” his mother said in her warm, gentle voice. “Housing two of Jock’s children is the least we can do for an old friend. We have plenty of room and are happy to do it. Isn’t that right, Winston?”

Several heartbeats passed before his pa nodded. “Indeed. The very least we can do.”

If it were possible, Sidney’s back straightened even further. “You and my father are not friends.”

“So you say.”

“Winston, Miss Calhoun is tired.” His mother looked around for Maria, who had come into the room a few minutes earlier, rumpled from sleep with a lantern in her hands. “I’m sure the ride from San Antonio was long and dirty, as well as exhausting. Let Miss Calhoun go to bed, and the two of you can resume this conversation in the morning.” She smiled, her eyes lighting in invitation. “If you choose to. You’ll be fresher then and have something hot in your bellies.”

Dustin nodded. “That’s a good idea, Mother.”

She turned to the maid. “Maria, will you see to the lavender room and make sure everything is in order? Turn down the coverlet, and warm a pot of water so Miss Calhoun can clean away the trail dust before slipping into bed. I’m sure she’ll feel much better when she’s bathed.”

If I’d said that, Sidney would have my head on a platter.

The tightness of his pa’s jaw was so imperceptible, Dustin was sure everyone had missed it except him.

“You’re right, Winnie,” Winston replied, slipping his arm around her back and pulling her close. “Whether Jock and I are friends is of no never mind to anyone at two o’clock in the morning. Good night, everyone.” His tone put an end to the discussion. “Miss Calhoun.”

Looking a bit confused, Sidney widened her eyes when his mother approached and gently took her arm.

“Come along, dear. There’s a bed waiting just for you. And I’m sure between Madeline and Becky, we can find something for you to wear. In the morning, when you’re rested, we’ll all get better acquainted.”

Sidney’s gaze flicked over to Dustin with a look that was so quick, he wondered if he’d imagined it. He was sure he saw wonder in her eyes, as well as uncertainty. Thoughts of her behind his saddle, her arms gripped around his waist, made him swallow.

Good night, Sidney Calhoun
, he thought as his mother and sister led her down the hall.
Rest well. Tomorrow should prove interesting.