Between Love and Lies (6 page)

Her grip on her reins tightened. “How considerate of you to inquire about my health, Mr. Wardell. You truly are a gentleman among the crude and callous.”

He chuckled, unperturbed by the scorn in her voice. “That’s one of the things I’ve always enjoyed about you, Miss Sadie—your fiery temper. It matches your hair. Your precious Edward may have outmaneuvered me last year, but I’ll have you soon. I look forward to bending you to my will with a firm hand in that red mane.”

Her courage left her in a startled gasp, abandoning her to face Wardell’s vulgarity alone.

A guttural growl erupted on the other side of her mare, cracking Sadie’s last bit of composure as swiftly as a wolf could break a brittle bone.

With a shrill whinny, her horse reared as high as the harness would allow. Caught off balance, Wardell released the bridle. The mare lunged at the reins, eager to bolt. All that stopped her was the flash of Noah’s broad-shouldered frame, now dismounted and crossing in front of her. The mare shuffled back until her hindquarters bumped the buggy.

She had no place to go. Much like Sadie.

Murderous intent twisted Noah’s face. He grabbed Wardell by the collar and jerked him off his feet. “You’ll pay for that comment, you son of a—”

“Gentlemen. Gentlemen!” Sadie shouted as Noah’s free hand drew back in a fist. She forced her tone lower, trying to infuse it with a calm she didn’t feel. “This
conversation
is useless, a moot point, a frivolity.” Noah’s hand halted, hovering in the air. “I urge you to remember my condition, which makes all talk about such matters ridiculous.”

Noah released Wardell with a shove.

With his gaze fixed on Noah, Wardell lifted shaking hands to straighten his jacket and ribbon necktie before saying, “Until next month then, Miss Sadie. When you are either fully recovered, and we can take up where we left off, or you are—” His gaze, filled with a chagrined yet aggravated expression, cut to her. He cleared his throat.

She held onto her smile and her determination not to let his statement go unfinished. “Or I’ll be what? An inhabitant of the asylum or the boneyard?” She snapped her reins and the mare leaped forward, forcing both men to jump out of the way. “I should be so lucky,” she called over her shoulder. “Then I’d be of no more interest to you or anyone else in this godforsaken town.”

Let them believe she welcomed her own death. The only death she cared about was Edward’s. Gertie may have taken his life, but Sadie had pledged that the madam wouldn’t keep the two items Edward cherished most. The heirlooms he’d refused to gamble or sell.

Unfortunately, upholding that promise might be Sadie’s quickest route to the grave.

CHAPTER 4

Loading two thousand
head of cattle into a series of narrow stock cars was a sight to see. The din and dust were spectacular. The swirling haze swallowed the vermilion sphere on the western horizon, while the ground beneath Noah’s feet vibrated like a living thing. Dodge’s railroad depot was a plain affair, a few corrals with a series of chutes and ramps on the edge of town. Nothing fancy. Only what was needed to get the job done.

The trains didn’t stay long. The instant this one arrived, the depot men had hauled open its sliding doors and bent their backs to the task of unloading supplies for the town. Refilling the compartments—this time with cattle—was taking even less time. Soon the firebox would be stoked, the engine would belch black smoke and the iron horse would pull its cargo east to the Union Stockyards in Chicago.

Noah’s work would be done. He could go home.

What he deserved was to stand here choking on the dust until the mild spring weather transformed into a sweltering summer that better represented the hell that was Dodge.

He shot another glance over his shoulder. Lewis still conversed with Robert Wardell, the purchaser of the herd. Noah recalled every vile word the cattle buyer had said to Sadie earlier that day and his fists clenched, once again itching to lay the bastard out cold. Instead, he remained rooted by the loading pens, stewing in silence.

Lewis and Wardell shook hands, then parted.

A satisfied grin split Lewis’ face as he approached Noah. “Well, two months of chewing dust behind those beasts is history. That’s the last we’ll see of them.” He raised his voice to be heard above the racket. “And fifteen dollars a head makes the parting even sweeter. I can finally buy the land beside your ranch and my folks’ and begin building my own spread.”

“You’ve worked plenty hard for every cent. Don’t squander too many of them here. A smart man doesn’t stay long in Dodge.”
Unlike me who hasn’t go a lick of sense.
Noah turned his back on the stockyard and headed for the center of town.

Lewis fell in beside him. “Don’t worry. Never been more eager to start something and, to tell the truth, I’m a mite lonesome for home.” He laughed. “Dodge isn’t for me. Too brash. Too wild. Exactly as you said it’d be.”

They followed the railroad tracks, careful to stay on the south side. The town called the band of metal the “deadline” because carrying a gun was only legal on the south side. Noah wasn’t giving up his revolver. Plus, the Northern Star and Sadie were on the south side.

“When we heading out?” Lewis asked.

Noah cast him a sidelong glance. Lewis stared at him, head cocked, eyes narrowed with curiosity. Noah knew that look. There was more on his friend’s mind than the journey home.

“Thought I might stay…for a few more days,” he answered, trying to choose his words carefully.

“I can wait a day or two—”

“Could be more.”

Lewis waved a hand, dismissing his amendment. “That’s all right, too. You helped me out, agreeing to drive my herd. I—”

“You got a ranch waiting for you. Don’t want to hold you up.”

“Humph. You got one too.” Lewis’ tone rumbled with concern. “Or have you forgotten?”

In the last year, he hadn’t given his home much thought. Unusual for him. For as long as he could remember, the land had meant everything.

He’d been eleven when his father and mother died—him in a range dispute and her not long after while giving birth to Noah’s brother. He thanked the Almighty for the ranch foreman and his wife. The pair had raised Jacob and held the ranch together until Noah could take up the reins.

Working the land and dreaming of ways to improve it had always filled him with an unwavering satisfaction. Now he felt…empty.

“Nothing at home needs my attention. Hurrying back won’t make any difference.”

“Noah, I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be.”

Lewis drew in a deep breath, then blurted, “It wasn’t your fault—what happened to Jacob.”

A familiar tightness constricted his chest. “Whose fault is it then? My brother’s dead. Someone should answer for that.”

“It was an accident.”

“An accident that could’ve been prevented.”

“No, it couldn’t have.”

Noah quickened his pace, his pulse accelerating as well. “You weren’t there. You don’t know.”

Lewis lengthened his stride, sticking close. “You’re right. I wasn’t there. I don’t know. But I want to know, and you won’t talk to me or anyone.”

“Let it be,” Noah growled. They were drawing a fair bit of attention as they stormed down Front Street. It was the least of his concerns. He wanted the conversation to end.

“Jacob was killed,” Lewis continued with a persistence unusual for him. “I believe it was an accident, but you don’t. So, what are you thinking—an eye for an eye?”

“I don’t want to talk about—”

“Your brother was a grown man. He wasn’t a kid anymore. Beating yourself up for his death won’t do any good.”

Noah ground to a halt. Every muscle in his body coiled as he spun to face Lewis.

One of Lewis’ brows arched in challenge. “Beating me up for speaking the truth won’t do any good either.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Noah tried to rein in his anger. “I was the one with Jacob when he died.” The pain of that day returned tenfold, leaving him as weak and vulnerable as a newborn calf. “I was riding an arm’s length away from him,” he bit out in a strangled voice, “when the storm struck and our herd stampeded. One moment he was there, the next he was wasn’t. Knocked down and trampled while I didn’t even suffer a scratch.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re responsible.” Lewis’ gaze stayed steadfast on Noah. “And shutting everyone out won’t help. You should’ve told me sooner.”

Noah tried to clear his throat. The rasp that came out shocked even his ears, like an animal’s rattling death cry. “He was my brother. I should’ve been able to save him.”

Lewis grasped his shoulder and squeezed. Hard. “His death wasn’t your fault.”

He accepted the pain. Welcomed it. He refused to meet Lewis’ gaze though.

“Look at me.” Lewis shook him enough to rock him on his heels.

Noah finally met his gaze.

The worry narrowing his friend’s eyes eased. So did his grip, but he didn’t release Noah. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve taken on too much. You’ve been like this since we were kids, and inheriting your ranch at such a young age didn’t help. Some things are beyond a man’s control. You can’t save everyone.”

Tears stung the backs of his eyes. He jerked free of Lewis’ hold and walked away so his friend wouldn’t see. “You’re right. I can’t even save a single person.”

Lewis dogged his side. “But staying in Dodge? What good’ll that do?”

“I might be able to make a difference here.”

“You said yourself that a smart person doesn’t stay long in Dodge.” Lewis scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “Others say not a week goes by without someone dying. The drink and debauchery turn men into easy targets for the swindlers, who grow richer and more corrupt every time a new herd and its drovers arrive.”

“I ain’t disagreeing.”

“Then why not leave?”

Noah shrugged.

“Are any of them worth the risk? They’re either ruffians or loafers. None are worth the cost. What if the price is your own death?” Lewis grimaced. “Or is that what you’re really after?”

A bitter snort of laughter escaped Noah. “Stop worrying. I’m not done living. Jus’ want to do something with a purpose.”

“Like what?”

“Rightin’ a wrong.”

Lewis kept silent longer than usual. Then he said quietly, almost reverently, “Oh, now I see. The siren.”

Noah frowned. “What’re you blathering on about?”

A smile curved Lewis’ lips. “The pint-sized redhead who has you buffaloed, that’s
who
I’m talking about. You’re pining over that gal who made pulp of your brain with her song.” He let out his breath in a whoosh. “At least that shows you’re still kicking. You’re not touched in the head. You’re just feeling your oats.”

“I want to help her,” Noah snapped. “Not bed her.”

Lewis grinned. “You could do both. I hope she makes a full recovery.”

Noah’s prayers for the same were overcast by the harsh reality of the past. “Her being sick and working in a saloon happened because of me. She hates me. I don’t blame her. So as soon as I do right by her, I’ll get out of her way and head for Texas.” Pain, sudden and deep, lanced his heart. He crossed his arms to prevent himself from rubbing his chest in an attempt to ease his suffering. His future held only one path.

“You’re as stubborn as ever.” Lewis released a long-suffering sigh. “I might as well get out of
your
way. I’ll leave tomorrow, but tonight I want a proper send-off. And I know the place.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Despite suspecting he wouldn’t like what came next, Noah swallowed his grunt of annoyance. He’d take a wagonload of punishments as long as Sadie stayed safe.

* * *

The Northern Star
was in full swing, overflowing with raucous voices and a barrage of discordant piano music that had taken over in the absence of Edward’s talented playing. Outside, an inky sky shrouded the town, while inside, kerosene lanterns glowed from every corner, illuminating the revelers and beckoning lost souls from the street. Gertie had invested a lot of time in making her saloon one of the most popular watering holes in Dodge.

Any improvements or allure were lost on Sadie. Even Edward’s absence didn’t consume her thoughts like before.

Tonight, her mind and body were tuned to one thing—the man once again sitting with her. After his friend left with Cora, Noah had come straight to her table and hadn’t left. Her breath caught in her throat, aggravating the increasing dryness there. Why must he keep looking at her instead of his cards?

Ignore him,
she told herself.
You have bigger worries.

To her right sat Robert Wardell. He’d joined her table as if their ugly encounter in the street this afternoon hadn’t occurred. Or was he here because of it? Was he trying to stake his claim on her again? The idea seemed absurd, but then, what did she know about the peculiarities of men?

The cards didn’t lie though. Wardell’s poker playing was a reflection of his personality, all bluster and show. He bet heavily, expected the cards to run in his favor, and became surly when they did not. In contrast, Noah played without a trace of emotion, made the most of the cards he was dealt and seemed to have no real interest in the outcome.