Now and Forever (17 page)

And they whiled away a rainy day getting to know each other better with every passing minute.

Which didn’t mean Shannon spent any more time talking about that awful, ugly war, even though it was part of every decision she’d made about her life.

Or it had been until she’d thrown a mountain man off a cliff.

W
e need to get to town, Tucker. I want you along.” Aaron had shown up at the cabin bright and early the day after the rain. Nev tagged along, as did Kylie.

“Cut this cast off my leg, Nev.” Tucker held it up, what was left of it. The rain had done it no favors. Strips of ragged cloth hung down, and one whole chunk had crumbled.

“It’s too soon.”

“Do it for me or I’ll do it for myself. I got caught out in the rain, and it’s halfway to falling off. It don’t hurt anymore. I’ll get a sturdy boot in town and be careful. If it takes to hurting too much, I’ll let you put a new plaster on. But this one’s got to go.”

Before Nev was done with the cast, Bailey and Sunrise turned up.

Tucker told them what had happened with the sheep and his tracking.

“I don’t want to leave my place unguarded,” Shannon
said. “He probably wouldn’t attack during the day, but there’s no sense making it easy for him by all of us showing up in town together.”

Tucker looked at Shannon, frowning. “I like keeping you close by where I can protect you.”

She smiled. “I know you do. But this man’s a coyote—he’s too much of a coward to attack me head on. Seeing both of us in town, though, if he’s there, might send him running out here to torch the barn.”

“I’ll stay with her,” Sunrise said.

“And me.” Bailey looked from Aaron to Tucker. “Don’t make a long trip out of it. I want to get back to my place. I don’t like leaving it alone when some fool who likes fire is running around loose.”

Tucker’s eyes slid to Nev, discreetly, so that Nev didn’t notice. Shannon saw it, however.

“We’ll be careful. We’ll stay right here until you get back. Won’t we, ladies?” She looked at Bailey especially, already itching to be back at her place.

“Yep, I want this place well-defended, Shannon. We’ll be here.” Bailey looked Aaron in the eye in that way she had that was so much like a man.

None of the Wilde sisters had taken to being a man like Bailey.

Aaron nodded with one jerk of his chin. “All right then. We won’t be gone a minute longer than we need to.”

Finally, Tucker’s cast came off. He stretched his foot and stood. “It hurts, but that’s mostly the ankle from it not being bent for weeks. The bone feels solid.”

Sunrise had made him new moccasins, and he strapped
them on. The men were out the door and Tucker had his horse out and they were on the trail within minutes.

Bailey turned to her sisters. “Now, here’s how we’re going to catch this varmint who’s trying to kill your sheep.”

Shannon caught her breath. It didn’t sound like Bailey was planning to stay home.

“Stewbold, we need to talk to you.” Tucker led the way into the land office. So happy to be walking again he could just barely stay furious about his homestead being attacked.

Hiram was standing there pulling on a gray coat. He lifted his rounded hat off a second hook as he turned and looked at the taller men over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses. His mustache quivered. “I’m just ready to take my morning coffee break.”

“That can wait, Hiram.”

“I’m a man of strict routine, but I would be glad for the company, gentlemen.” Stewbold walked straight for them. Tucker almost smiled as he waited, wondering if the man really thought he could make any of them give way.

Stewbold stopped, glared at Tucker. Then his eyes shifted, in that rodent-like way, to Aaron. “Do you have some serious objection to a cup of coffee, Mr. Masterson?”

There was a tense silence.

Finally, Aaron said, “I see no reason we can’t discuss this over coffee. Let’s go, Tucker.”

Tucker saw a couple of reasons not to but decided to keep his powder dry.

He stepped aside. Stewbold gave him a little smirk as if
he thought he’d won something. Tucker found his opinion of the man could drop even lower.

The four of them walked to Erica’s Diner. It was mostly empty, which suited Tucker just fine. No sense in the whole world watching if Tucker decided to feed Stewbold his hat.

Myra, who’d thought to scare Kylie off her property and get it for herself as a way of marrying Gage Coulter, came out with a coffeepot in her hand. She was sort of pale and washed-out looking, whereas Tucker preferred dark hair and bright blue eyes himself. Still, Myra was a pretty little thing. Tucker couldn’t figure out why she hadn’t caught herself a husband by now. There just weren’t any single women out here. They were scarce, and there were many lonely bachelors in the West. Myra was on the tall, skinny side, with fair skin, flyaway white hair, and freckles on her nose. She saw Tucker, her eyes shifted to Aaron, and she stumbled to a stop. Last time Tucker had seen her, he’d about torn her head off for being a lying little sneak trying to hurt Kylie and snare Gage.

Myra’s lip started to tremble, she kept her eyes downcast, but her shoulders squared and she came on with the coffee. It struck Tucker as brave. Maybe the girl was learning to face what she’d done.

Tucker still didn’t trust her, but then Tucker mostly didn’t trust anyone unless he absolutely had to.

“Just coffee, Miss Hughes.” Stewbold proved he was a regular and that his odd formal ways never relaxed.

Myra poured coffee so carefully you’d have thought she expected them to start yelling if she sloshed a single drop. “We found someone with an apple tree near town,
and we made apple pie for the noon meal, if you’d like a slice. The first one’s just now comin’ out of the oven.”

Tucker hadn’t had a slice of apple pie but once or twice in his life, but now that she mentioned it, he could smell it and he couldn’t resist. “I’ll have some, sure.”

“I’ll have a piece too, please.” Aaron sounded mighty reasonable for a man talking to someone who’d attacked his wife two months ago.

Myra gave him a nervous glance, shifted her eyes fearfully to Aaron, then went back to studying the cups intensely as she poured.

Nev, sitting and holding his coffee cup like the warmth in it was all that was keeping him alive, said, “Apple pie would be a treat, Miss Hughes.”

Myra looked at Nev. He went on, “I can’t remember the last time I had a slice of apple pie. Reckon it’s been years.”

“I . . . I made this one that’s comin’ out now. It’s the first one I’ve ever done. I hope you like it.” She said it like she was maybe . . . flirting. With Nev? “The rest Ma made. She’s been teaching me, and she was the best cook in Alabama. I’ll understand if you want to wait for one of hers.”

She blinked her eyes at him, looking soft and helpless, as if she were at his mercy, begging him to give her poor little pie a chance. Tucker almost snorted.

“Your pie will be fine, Miss Hughes. I expect I’ll enjoy it thoroughly. Alabama, you say? I’m a Southern boy myself.”

Aaron arched one brow almost to his hairline. Tucker shook his head and looked at Nev, a bag of skin and bones even after months of settling down and eating right. Maybe
a woman who could cook saw great possibilities in fattening him up.

Nev smiled. Myra smiled back. The moment lasted too long.

“I’ll be right back.” Myra whirled away to fetch the pie.

Nev watched every step she took.

“Hiram, we’ve got trouble.” Aaron spoke before Tucker could. “Three homesteaders have been burned out.” Aaron rattled off the names.

Tucker was impressed that Aaron had been doing some work to track down information.

“As land agent, you need to investigate what’s happened. You also need to start checking other homesteaders. There have been three we know of, but there may be more. We need to ride out to all the homesteads, make sure these folks are all right, and warn them that someone’s out attacking claims. As far as I know, no one has died, but—”

“I’ve already talked with each of the families you mentioned.”

“You have?” Aaron looked surprised. “Why didn’t you say something? You should have talked to me about this. I know these people. I want to help them.”

“It never occurred to me to consult you.” Stewbold sniffed as he adjusted his glasses. “You’re no longer the land agent. I discussed the circumstances with them. They’ve given up their claims. Some homesteaders can afford to start over, some can’t. These particular people decided the frontier wasn’t for them and went back east.”

“Gage Coulter has visited each of these homesteads. He said the fires were set.”

“I didn’t hear a single one of them say such a thing. They didn’t seem to think it was anything but bad luck. Fire is a common enough occurrence.”

“Coulter is a mighty knowing man, Stewbold. If he says the fires were set, then they were. Someone is driving homesteaders off their land. We have to do something.”

Hiram Stewbold sat at the table, looking in his fidgety way between Aaron, Tucker, and Nev. “Well, I’ll look into it then. The worst of the land rush seems to be over, as you know. I’ll ride out to the claims and tell the homesteaders to be on their guard. How do you propose we track down whoever set the fires?”

Hiram sat patiently, as if he didn’t believe there was a problem but he was completely willing to cooperate. Too willing, in Tucker’s opinion. If Stewbold had opposed them and tried to stop them from investigating, it would have been suspicious. Everything about the man hit Tucker all wrong. But why would a land agent steal land? There was no sign that Stewbold was grabbing the land for himself.

So who was grabbing it? That’s what they needed to find out.

About the time the pie came, Tucker wished Stewbold would go away so they could debate the matter.

Of course the man seemed settled in for good.

As he ate the tasty pie, Tucker mulled over what he knew. Coulter was the main rancher in the area, but not the only one. Tucker mostly spent his life wandering far and wide in the high-up hills. He knew Coulter and had worked for him when their paths had crossed, but beyond that he
hadn’t had much to do with area ranchers, homesteaders, or Aspen Ridge.

He’d heard tell some folks thought he was a ghost. He was a white man raised by Indians, who wandered the area and appeared from time to time, and that made him a mystery in the little town that barely clung to existence on the edge of the Rocky Mountains.

The rumors, when he thought of them at all, had always amused him, and it had suited him not to know many people. He had enough friends in Caleb and the other men who lived in the mountains with him. And they only crossed his path occasionally.

But somehow he’d found himself married and dragged into the Wilde family and all the trouble that seemed to follow them. Why, he’d been to town more times this summer than in his whole life.

“This is delicious pie, Miss Myra.” Nev was eating so slow, Tucker knew they were going to still be here to eat the noon meal if something wasn’t done soon. Well, maybe Nev wanted to eat for that long, but Tucker had a wife to protect and homesteads to check. There’d be no tracks after that blasted rain, but he could still satisfy himself that Coulter was right about the fires being set.

“Nev, why don’t you split up the names of the homesteaders with Hiram? That way you can cover more land and get them all warned faster. I don’t think Aaron and I should leave our womenfolk alone. Not if someone dangerous is around.”

Stewbold gave Tucker one of his smirks. Tucker promised himself then and there that before Stewbold left the
area, he was going to use his fist to wipe at least one of those looks off the man’s face.

“What is it, Hiram?”

“I just noticed you have the cast off your leg, Mr. Tucker. But I think you would probably be wise to coddle your leg. No doubt after your ordeal of being injured, you still need plenty of time to . . . lay about.”

Tucker decided it was going to be right now that he taught Hiram Stewbold a lesson he wouldn’t ever forget.

Aaron erupted from his seat on the bench and clamped a hand on Tucker’s shoulder, no doubt reading the situation about right. “Stewbold, you stay and finish your pie with Nev.”

Aaron had been an officer in the Union Army. He had a way with giving orders. Tucker had no intention of obeying them, but he had to fight the reflex.

“Tucker, I’ve got something important I need you to do for me outside, right now. Now!” Aaron’s hand dug into Tucker’s shoulder so hard that Tucker either had to punch him or get up and follow.

Figuring he could always beat the tar out of Stewbold later, Tucker nodded his goodbyes to the smug, the smitten, and the pretty baker and followed Aaron out of the diner.

“You can punch him later. Right now I want to go see those burned-out homesteads, and pounding on Stewbold might take up to ten minutes.”

“It’d take one good punch. Not even half a minute.”

“Yep, but there’d be screaming.”

“Miss Myra wouldn’t scream; she seems pretty steady.”

“No, I mean Hiram. He’d scream for sure. And then
I’d have to hit him and we just don’t have the time. You’ll have plenty of chances. I have no doubt.”

“People are a lot of trouble, Aaron.” Tucker swung up on his grulla, took another look at Nev through the window, still taking gnat-sized bites of his pie and talking with the waitress while Hiram’s mustache twitched. “Now that my leg’s healed, I’ve a mind to take Shannon and head for my cabin in the mountains. I’d do it too, except I don’t like anyone thinking they drove me off my land.”