Fired Up (16 page)

“She, uh . . . she says she won't sell the ranch, but who besides me has made her an offer?”

“Well, then just take it. That'd be a cheap way to get started ranching. Even you probably couldn't go broke with a free ranch.”

“I'm not taking her ranch for free. Do I look like a man who's gonna steal from a widow and her fatherless children?”

“What you look like is a man who's spent years being a phony doctor. That's not robbery, but it's not all that honorable either. You need to find an honest career or make peace with being a swindler.”

“Like you have?” Dare asked.

“Yep.”

They'd gotten off the main topic. Again. “Maybe she'll sell to you,” Dare continued, “and then you can sell to me. Don't tell her what you've got planned.”

“I'm not helping you buy a ranch. That's a plan hatched by a half-wit. You know nothing about ranching. If you don't want to be a doctor, then start repairing wheels. You learned how to do that from your pa. And didn't the blacksmith run off after the fight with Greer and Bullard? Take over his business, why don't you.”

“That's Sledge Murphy. He came back.”

“Then just repair wheels.”

“I thought about being a wheelwright, though it's been a long time and I learned when I was mighty young. But even if I could do it, I'd starve. Every man in this town rides a horse—that's why Sledge can make a living. There aren't five wagons within a hundred miles of here, and the men who have one, like Luke, know how to repair their own wheels.”

“All the better reason to be a doctor.”

Dare drew in a breath, then let it out slowly.

“Look, if you feel so guilty about lying, then go back East and go to doctor college. How long could it take? A year or two maybe?”

“I checked. I have to go to regular school first.”

“You have to graduate from college before they'll let you study to be a doctor? That's mighty picky.”

“No, I don't mean go to college; I mean
regular
school. I have to go to high school and grammar school. Then I have to tangle with going to college.”

Vince frowned. “How long will that take?”

With a shrug Dare said, “I'm not sure, but since I only went a few years, I might have to start back in . . . maybe fourth grade and go all the way through.”

Flinching, Vince said, “You'd never fit in those little desks.”

“Plus it'd be pure embarrassing to be three feet taller than every kid in my class.”

“And the teacher,” Vince added.

Dare nodded. “So doctor college is out. I need to change careers. I'm going to be a rancher. What I don't know—”

“And that'd be everything,” Vince cut in.

“—Luke can teach me. I'll be fine. All I need to do is buy that ranch and get a few cows.”

“That's so far from all you need to do, it's laughable.” Vince proved that was true because he started to laugh.

The door to the diner opened. Jonas stepped in, and right beside him stood his sister, Tina Cahill.

Vince's laugh changed to coughing, until Dare worried the man might choke to death. Too bad there wasn't a doctor around to save him.

Every man in the place fell into a dead silence. Even Vince's coughing finally faded and Dare could look to see who'd come in.

Tina Cahill had arrived. Her eyes flashed like the vivid blue at the heart of a flame. Her hair was so golden blond that the sun seemed to shine out of the top of her head. She had lashes so long they tangled as she blinked at all the male attention. Then, as if it wasn't bad enough, she smiled.

That smile . . .

This was one amazingly lovely woman. No sign of Jonas's fat, bald sister anywhere.

She had a ridiculously fussy blue dress on, layers of flounces and ruffles over skirts and underskirts and maybe
petticoats and bustles and corsets and hoops—something was definitely going on under that dress. Dare didn't think it was appropriate for him to wonder what.

Tina had a silken shawl draped over her arms to stave off the November weather, but surely all those skirts were as warm as a buffalo blanket. She wore a little hat that was garnished in ribbons and lace and other adornments. The hat alone was more elaborate than anything Dare had ever seen.

Of course, he'd never seen much besides gingham and calico and wool and cowhide, so that didn't mean a whole lot.

Everything about Tina Cahill was bright and lively and enchanting.

“She's the prettiest woman in the world.” Vince spoke so quietly, Dare could barely hear him.

Vince wasn't the only man to whisper some sentiment, no doubt of a similar nature. There were five men left in the diner, and the stunned silence was suddenly broken with a buzz fit for a beehive.

There was no denying Tina was a beautiful woman. Not as pretty as Glynna, in Dare's opinion, but a beauty nonetheless. And since Tina was almost the same as a little sister—Jonas being like a brother to him—Dare immediately felt protective of her. The woman was going to get too much attention from all the wrong men. Well,
all
the men, the wrong ones included.

Confound it, why couldn't she have been fat and bald?

Jonas scowled at the men while Tina looked around, smiling, as if begging each and every man to say something that might get him punched by a preacher.

Dare decided to head off the fistfight. “Come sit with us, Jonas.” He rose from his seat. The diner wasn't a big building, and Dare walked to meet Tina in about two steps. “Welcome to Broken Wheel, Miss Cahill. I was out doctoring when you arrived.” He reached out his hands to Tina, and she took them, grinning back at him. “Jonas, your little sister looks nothing like you.” Leaning closer to her, Dare whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. “Lucky you.”

Jonas looked between Dare and his sister for a few seconds, then lost his scowl. “She takes after our ma. It's said I'm a throwback to my pa's mother's folks, the very Irish Donovans.”

“Come sit down with Vince and me. There are flapjacks for breakfast.” Dare let go of Tina's hands and gestured toward the nearly empty table. Jonas had probably deliberately waited for the breakfast crowd to thin out.

Good thinking.

“Tina already cooked for me. She's a dab hand in the kitchen. But I wanted her to meet you and suspected I'd find you here. She needs to make Mrs. Sevier's acquaintance, too.”

Dare kept forgetting that was Glynna's name these days.

“You must be Dare Riker, the town doctor,” Tina said.

Dare opened his mouth to correct her just as Vince slapped Dare on the back hard enough to make him bite his tongue.

“That's right.” Vince came up beside him. “Good morning, Miss Cahill.”

The scowl that had eased on Jonas's face when Dare
had greeted Tina now returned. Vince was probably a bit too good-looking for any brother to want near his sister.

If Jonas had been standing anywhere else but slightly behind Tina and could see his sister's face, he wouldn't have scowled. Tina turned her lovely little nose up just the barest fraction of an inch at Vince, then gave him a curt nod and, without speaking, went to sit at the table.

Vince looked dumbfounded. Dare was a little confused himself. Women usually responded well to Vince.

Jonas cheered right up.

Tina said, “I'd like to begin, as I mean to go on in this town, so there's no sense wasting time. We need to get that saloon closed, and I'd like every man here to help me.”

A reformer.

Jonas had mentioned that.

The remaining men slunk out of the diner, no doubt on their way to the saloon to stock up, just in case. Dare sighed and sank into a chair across from Tina.

Jonas took a seat beside Tina and glared at every man in the place as they left.

He'd assigned himself the role of guardian as well as big brother, and they were all going to have to figure out how to handle his little sister correctly or face the parson's wrath.

“She has hoops and a bustle?” Ruthy looked down at her calico skirt.

Glynna knew just how Ruthy felt. “Yes, and a corset and petticoats, too.” With a sigh, Glynna added, “I used to have a bustle and petticoats, back in Arkansas before the war. By the time that was over, I had little left but a day dress and a Sunday best, and those were threadbare.”

Ruthy shook her head. “I've never owned a spare dress in my life, until I came to Broken Wheel. Now I have what I found in the upstairs of Dare's house, which is plenty.” She caught the skirts of her green dress, looked down, frowning, and said wistfully, “I can't imagine tending the house in a corset and hoops, though, so even if I had them, I wouldn't wear them. Not often anyway.”

Ruthy looked at Glynna a little sheepishly. “I might put them on for church.”

“There's Jonas, coming out of his house. Let's go over and we can walk back with Tina. She's really pretty. Young too.” Glynna glanced at Ruthy and smiled. “About your age, I'd say, so only I feel old.”

Ruthy laughed and linked arms with Glynna as they walked toward the small house Jonas lived in right next to the church. His sister followed him. Her eyes went immediately to Glynna and Ruthy.

“Good morning, Jonas.” Glynna felt no envy for the woman's elaborate clothing or her stunning looks. Those things mainly served to attract men, and Glynna certainly didn't want to do that. “Tina, we'd love you to sit by us in church.”

Tina smiled bright enough to shame the sun. “Thank you, I'd be delighted to.”

Glynna quickly introduced Ruthy to Tina, then the three of them trailed after Jonas, who seemed distracted—thinking about his sermon, no doubt.

The Foster family was just descending from their wagon, and Ruthy called out to Melanie while Luke helped Gil lift the children down from the wagon.

“Come and sit with us, Melanie,” Ruthy said as they drew near the Fosters.

Her toddler screamed and twisted in his father's arms until Gil almost dropped him.

“I think we'd better stay to the back row.” Melanie gave her sons, who were running in circles, a look of affectionate exasperation. “You might want to sit a few rows away if you have any wish to hear what Parson Cahill has to say.”

They all laughed as Glynna introduced Tina.

What with shuffling about so Luke sat next to Ruthy, and Glynna's children carefully keeping her separated from any man—Dare in particular, thank the good Lord—Tina ended up on the end of a short pew with one remaining
space. Vince sat down in it just as Jonas walked to the crudely built podium from which he spoke.

Jonas looked at his sister, then at Vince, and frowned deeply. Then he seemed to gather himself and focus again on the service.

It was a lovely sermon, though Glynna had a tiny suspicion that the parson would have preferred to talk about sins of the flesh and eternal damnation.

“I'm surprised to see you up and about so early, Mr. Yates.” Tina stood at the conclusion of the service. She probably shouldn't have spoken to him in any regard, but she certainly shouldn't have mentioned her memory of Vince falling in the street, overcome with demon rum in the morning.

Well, the man was here in church, so perhaps he had good days and bad. She'd definitely pray for him.

Vince turned to speak, sharing a bright smile. Before he uttered a word, Jonas came to her side, nearly skidding to a stop. “Come and stand with me to greet the parishioners, Tina.”

He caught her arm in a no-nonsense grip and hustled her past Vince.

That suited Tina just fine. The small church was packed. It was all male except for Glynna, Ruthy, Glynna's daughter, Janny, Melanie Foster, and Tina. Not one single man failed to shake her hand, and they each hung on a bit too long. Jonas did a bit too much growling, in Tina's opinion, for a parson.

She'd pray for him, too.

When Glynna reached Tina, she said, “I've got a nice meal cooking in the diner. We're closed, of course, but my cook put a large roast on and added a few fixings before I shooed her off for the day. The Foster family is coming, too. The diner is the only place large enough to hold us all.”

“There's another woman in town?” Tina thought she'd met them all.

“Yes. Lana Bullard. I asked her to church, but she's not a believer. She takes her Sundays off, though, and seems content with time alone in the boardinghouse where she lives. I'm hoping we can eventually persuade her to make her peace with God. She's had a very hard life.”

Dr. Riker, bringing up the rear, muttered something, and Tina thought she heard the word
lunatic
. Vince shook his head and gave Dr. Riker a small shove.

“Can you come?”

Tina wanted to, but it seemed wrong to impose, especially on such short notice. She looked uncertainly at Jonas. “I hadn't begun preparations for a noon meal, but I have something I could—”

“No, Sunday dinner with my friends would be wonderful.” Jonas smiled. “Thank you, Glynna.”

Tina wondered for the hundredth time why she hadn't come to live with her kindhearted brother from the moment her parents had died. Her life would have been much easier.

Dare saw the look in Vince's eyes and knew his life was about to get a whole lot harder.

“Dare, we got ourselves a problem.” Vince leaned against one of the posts holding up the roof at the front of the diner, arms folded, ankles crossed, like a man without a worry in the world. Vince was always standing guard. He couldn't quit. He just made it look real relaxed.

“What problem? We've been talking all through the meal. Why wait till now to bring this up?”

Jonas and Luke were sitting on the board-walk. Dare was pacing on the dirt street in front of them, though not overly. He just needed to walk off his meal, so he moved. Sitting still had never suited him.

“I didn't want to say anything in front of the women and children.” Vince's tone caught their attention, but then Vince had a way of doing that. He looked over his shoulder at the firmly closed door of the diner.

“Well, they're busy now.” Luke sat up straight, frowning. Dare got the impression Luke knew what was coming.

The Fosters had headed on home after the meal so the children could nap. Paul had stayed with the women. He wasn't much interested in becoming friends, but Dare kept hoping that would change in time.

“I've been thinking this right along, but with the measles outbreak and you being away from town, then the Foster young'un being sick and Luke being sick, then Tina coming to town, well, there just hasn't been a chance to tell you.”

Dare wasn't sure how much time Tina coming to town had taken Vince. She mostly stayed in Jonas's house.

“But there's been time to tell Luke?” That rankled Dare for some reason—them worrying about him and not saying anything.

“And Jonas.”

Jonas gave Dare a lazy salute as if making fun of him for being annoyed. “Yep, we discussed it between us. Not much you could've done when you were so busy.”

“I'm listening.” Dare crossed his arms tight and quit moving to face Vince.

“The fire at your house wasn't an accident.”

Vince's announcement brought a long stretch of silence to the four men.

Finally Dare said, “We talked about that at the time.”

Vince nodded. “I've looked around your house since then.”

A sound at the diner window turned Dare around to see Paul looking out. He didn't want the kid to overhear. “Let's walk over there.”

All four men strode toward Dare's burned-down hulk of a house.

“Look at the kitchen. Those walls are still standing.” Vince headed for that side first. “The cookstove almost looks like it blocked the fire, and that wouldn't be true if the stove was the source of it.”

Dare walked ahead, faster than the others. Then he stopped to stare at that kitchen wall. “And the stovepipe . . . look at it.”

The round metal poked out through the blackened wall. “A spark might get out around the pipe and start a fire, but then this wall would've burned first, and it didn't.”

Luke jabbed a finger at the stones still intact in the midst of the burnt ruins. “Your fireplace might've caused it. It's more in the middle of the house.”

Shaking his head, Vince kept moving, circling toward the front door. “I happened to look out my bedroom window and saw flames reflected in the window of the general store. I came running fast. I was here before the whole house was engulfed. This door was blazing. The fire had spread by then, but this was at the center of it.”

“Right below the window I'd've climbed out,” Dare said.

“And look how completely burned it is right here, practically down to fine ash.”

It twisted Dare's stomach to look at the destruction—one of only two means he'd had to escape—except whoever struck the match didn't know about the attic access in his bedroom ceiling.

“The fire was white-hot outside my bedroom. I tried to get out that way first. The chimney could've started that, although I was real sure the fire had died all the way down. But that doesn't explain the front door.”

“Then I ran around back, thinking I could get in and get upstairs and the stairway was burning, but there was unburned space between the stairs and the front door.”

Dare didn't ask Vince if he was sure. Vince would've said so if he wasn't. “My front door is real close to the stairway. If there was unburned wood between them, the fire had to start in two places, and it hadn't been burning that long or they'd have turned into one big fire.”

“Which says to me,” Vince said, crossing his arms as he studied the building, “that someone used kerosene to get both fires big and hot real fast.”

“So I couldn't get out,” Dare added quietly.

Dare, Vince, Luke, and Jonas stood there staring as the
cool wind scattered blackened ash and whipped the scent of burnt wood in the air.

“Who did it?” Dare asked.

Vince shrugged.

“You've been checking everything else out—how about figuring the answer to that?”

“I've got a few ideas, but I don't know if I believe any of 'em.”

“Let's hear it.” Dare didn't like thinking someone wanted him dead. He'd helped a lot of folks in this town. It didn't seem real neighborly.

“Lana Bullard comes to mind,” Vince said after a long pause.

A chill raced down Dare's spine as he remembered how strange she'd acted when she thought her baby had died.

Rubbing his hand over his mustache, Dare said, “Might be her. But a lot of men in this town would be mighty angry with me if I got her arrested and she couldn't cook anymore.”

“What about Paul, Glynna's boy?” Vince's question was met with such utter silence, Dare wondered if maybe he'd gone deaf. “Have you noticed he's wearing a six-gun these days?”

Dare thought of the hate in the boy's eyes. He thought of how devastated Glynna would be if it was true. “He's so young . . .”