Patricia Potter (42 page)

“Who’s going to stop us…just you, Lobo?” Keller sneered.

Lobo studied Keller for a moment. “Just keep thinking that.” He watched the reaction to his words flit across Keller’s face. They carried a strong implication that Lobo was no longer alone.

Keller’s face went even redder. “I’ll see you dead, Lobo.”

“The ground’s full of them who’ve tried,” Lobo said, his stance relaxing, as if he considered the six men no threat at all. His rifle lowered, but there wasn’t a man watching him who considered trying to run him down or making any other hostile move. They’d all seen his speed the other night.

Keller turned his horse around, and Lobo saw his hand clutching the empty holster in frustration. Lobo suddenly pointed the rifle up in the air and fired, spooking the horses. One of the horses reared, almost spilling his rider to the ground. The others took off, all except Keller.

“I’m going to kill you,” he said.

Lobo turned his back, as if Keller were no more than a fly, a contemptuous action that served only to infuriate Keller even more. Lobo wished Keller would make a move. He wished it with all his might as he thought how the man had tried to kill Willow and the twins earlier.

But there was no rushing noise behind him, and finally he turned. Keller was still there, his face full of indecision.

“One more thing, Keller,” Lobo said tightly. “If you ever try to spook Miss Taylor’s horses again, if you ever try to harm her or any of the kids, I won’t wait for you to draw. I’ll come hunting you.” His voice was like dripping ice, each word freezing and hanging in the air.

Keller felt his face drain of color. He turned his horse, and spurred it into a gallop toward Newton’s ranch.

24

W
illow and Brady heard the shot from the river and waited several seconds for a second one.
When it didn’t come, Willow looked anxiously at Brady.

Brady shook his head. “He said two shots.”

“But…”

“Do you trust him or not?”

“Yes.”

“Do you trust me?” There was a pleading look in his eyes.

“Yes.” The answer came quick and sure.

“Then wait.”

They moved out to the porch, where the twins, Estelle, and Sallie Sue joined them. Chad was on watch at the road. The next minutes were the most difficult Willow had ever spent. She pictured Lobo, lying bleeding, alone; and nothing was important anymore, not the ranch, not Jake, not the garden. Nothing was worth Lobo’s life.

Willow’s heart slowed, almost stopped, and her breath came just as slowly, passing raggedly beneath a lump in her throat. Brady’s hand was on the handle of his gun. Estelle’s face was white, and Sallie Sue was hiding her face in Estelle’s blue dress. The twins, for once, were standing apart, their eyes riveted, like the others, toward a distant clump of trees.

Willow finally saw a figure move slowly toward them. Her heart relaxed as she recognized the pinto and the tall, proud, arrogant figure astride the horse. Her hand reached out, and Brady took it, squeezing comfortably, and she felt his own relief.

She didn’t know how she could contain the joy she felt. She had to fight herself to keep from running to him, to not betray that she had envisioned him wounded and dying.

Yet she knew some of those emotions were on her face, for she’d never been able to hide her feelings. His gaze, as he neared, was fixed on her, and she saw the rare, slow smile with which he reassured her.

She was surprised by the number of weapons tied to his saddle and by the fact that his trousers were wet.

Lobo reached the small waiting group and dismounted. He cut loose the rope holding the pistols and rifles and they fell to the ground.

“You’ve been busy,” Brady observed dryly.

Lobo nodded, then looked toward the twins. “Can you take these to the barn? Brady and I will clean them later.” Willow noted the amazement on Brady’s face at Lobo’s use of his first name; it was the first time Lobo hadn’t called him Thomas, and it obviously connoted some change in the relationship.

If Lobo had asked the twins to fly, both of them would have tried their darnedest. Their faces glowed with pride.

Lobo turned to Willow. “I’ve taken the ammunition from them.” He hadn’t needed to say it. She knew he wouldn’t do anything to endanger the children.

“Where did you get them, Jess?” Jeremy asked.

“Some fellows were careless enough to drop them in the river,” Lobo confided conspiratorially.

“Galloping goosefeathers,” Jeremy said, using Chad’s favorite oath. “All of them? There must be a dozen guns.”

“Pretty near,” Lobo confirmed. “It’ll take you a while, so you better get started.”

Jeremy, then Jimmy, nodded as they carefully gathered up several pistols and rifles and disappeared with them into the barn.

“I could use something to eat,” Lobo continued, looking meaningfully at Estelle and Sallie Sue. Sallie Sue beamed happily, sensing that all was well after those few tense moments of waiting, and Estelle, smiling shyly and taking Sallie Sue’s hand, hurried into the house.

Brady suddenly grinned at him. “Anyone ever tell you you have a way with kids?”

Lobo looked disconcerted and then aghast.

Willow smiled at Lobo’s reaction. She supposed he was used to being the bogeyman for most children. His usual expression certainly would daunt anyone over the age of two.

He looked so bewildered that she wanted to stretch up and kiss him. He had apparently overpowered a group of gunmen, taken their guns with only one shot, and now he looked terribly disappointed that he was taken so lightly by two eight-year-old boys.

“They like you,” Willow said consolingly.

He scowled. That answer did not reassure him.

It was Brady who brought them back to the matter at hand, now that the children were gone. “What happened?”

Lobo explained, then said, “You two know Newton better than I do. Will he come here himself or will he just send men?”

Brady returned his look steadily. “He’ll come. He’ll bring men with him. You’ve challenged him now. I’ve never known him to back down on one. What about the dam?”

“I think it’s safe for a while. I told them there would be someone waiting in ambush.”

Brady shook his head. Lobo’s audaciousness apparently had few limits. “They know there’s only you and me.”

“Don’t be too sure about that,” Lobo said laconically. “They might think we’ve picked up someone else, that Canton might have joined us. It’s no secret he’s been offered to Willow.”

Willow’s eyes widened. “Did you…?”

“I just gave them somethin’ to ponder,” Lobo drawled innocently.

Brady’s astonishment turned to admiration. A large group of men might charge one gunman, but two with reputations like Canton’s and Lobo’s? Lobo had just bought them time. “I’ll get something to eat and go relieve Chad,” Brady said, looking at the sun, which was falling quickly in the west.

Lobo nodded. He was only a little startled at how easily he was coming to depend on Brady when he’d never allowed himself to trust anyone before. His contempt for the ex-lawman had faded in the past days as he realized how hard the man was trying, how far he’d come, and how difficult each step must have been. His trust increased when Brady had enough sense to obey his orders and stay put when he’d heard the one shot.

“What about the river?”

Lobo knew instantly what Brady meant. There were two ways to the house, the road and by way of the river. The latter was the long way from Newton’s place, meandering as it did through the two ranches. “They believe someone’s covering it,” he said. “They’ll come by road.”

Brady nodded. “Two shots,” he said.

Lobo’s mouth relaxed slightly. “Two shots,” he agreed. The eyes of both men met for a moment before Brady headed for the house and Lobo moved toward the barn. Willow watched them separate, noticing the surprising ease between them, and she followed Lobo.

The twins had completed hauling the weapons to the barn, and now Lobo asked them to fetch some rags to dry them.

Willow stood at the door. “What are you going to do with them?”

“Clean and reload them. Stack some here and some in the house in case we need them.”

“Do you really think Alex will attack?”

“I don’t know what he’ll do. We’ve pushed him in a corner now.” He studied her face. “You sure you want to go through with this? I can tell him you’ll sell, or that you won’t let Morrow use your land.”

“I promised Jake,” she said stubbornly.

“I doubt he knew what he was askin’.”

“I think he did. He knew no one in town would stand up to Alex.”

“It’s not your battle.”

“It is now,” she said. “It’s my land.”

He sighed. “At least take the kids and go into town?”

She hesitated and looked at the darkening sky. “I’ll send them with Estelle in the morning. I have a small house that goes along with the school.”

“What about you?”

“Do you think I would leave you and Brady to fight my battle alone?”

His face tensed, and Willow thought how strong it was, how indomitable he looked. Was she being fair, asking this of him? She didn’t even know why he was there.

“I can talk to him, I know I can,” Willow added, almost desperately. “If Alex comes…?”

“What if he doesn’t?” Lobo said. “What if he just sends his men to burn you out?”

“I’ll rebuild.”

“How many times?”

“As many as it takes.”

“It’s just a piece of land.”

“No.” She shook her head. “It’s more than that. It’s…home.” Willow met his gaze. “I never had one until now, not one of my own. My father was a teacher at a boys’ school, and we lived in one of its buildings and ate in the big dining room. Nothing was really ours. Nothing…was permanent.” There was a wistful note in her voice. “This is the only home I’ve ever had, and the only one that Estelle and Chad…”

Lobo was silent. The idea of home was foreign to him. The idea of actually wanting to own land, to stay in one place, had never occurred to him, though he was very aware that people killed for land. They’d hired him to do it. But he didn’t want to think about that. “Your mother?”

“She died when I was born.” Willow looked up at him, at the eyes that had warmed and deepened into a color even more startling than their usual coldly bright blue-green.

“And so you’ve adopted your own family,” he said.

She had never thought of it that way. She’d just seen need, and tried to help. But perhaps that’s exactly what she’d done.

The twins returned with the rags, and the warmth, the closeness, suddenly disappeared as he stepped back and lit an oil lamp. His eyes, when they returned to her again, were once more curtained.

Willow shook her head to try to rid herself of the sense of loss she felt. He was staying for now; that’s what mattered. She watched as he focused all his attention on the weapons and then the twins as he sat down cross-legged with them, showing them how to dry and clean the weapons. It was as if he’d blocked her out.

“You’ll eat with us tonight, won’t you?” Her voice was low, but the plea was undeniable. Indecision crossed Lobo’s face before he nodded curtly.

B
RADY CAST GLANCES
at Estelle as she ladled out the stew she’d been preparing for dinner. He was damned if he knew what was different about her, but something was.

She turned and looked at him, and he realized what it was. There was life in her face again, life and hope and even perhaps eagerness.

“I saw…the water,” she said tentatively. “It seems like a miracle.”

“You can thank Lobo for that,” Brady said. “I didn’t think of it.”

“But you did so much of the work.”

“So did he.”

“You both did,” she replied softly. The fear he’d always heard in her voice was gone, and so was the hesitancy.

Brady didn’t know what to say. He felt awkward at the praise, and undeserving. He should have thought of a dam long ago, but he’d been too befuddled with drink and regret and self-pity.

Self-pity. His gaze went up to her. If anyone had a right to self-pity, it was Estelle. Willow had told him Estelle’s story, and somehow she’d survived a lot better than he had.

Admiration flooded him, admiration and a stronger emotion. He suddenly wanted to touch her, but he was afraid to. He’d noticed the way she flinched around men, the way she hid when strangers came, except Lobo, and that puzzled him. Brady felt another emotion, something almost like jealousy, and the knowledge startled him.

In confusion he hurriedly finished his stew, mumbled something like thanks, and left to relieve Chad.

M
ARISA COULD HEAR
her father roar like a crazed bull. “Dammed the river? By God, she can’t do that.”

She slipped down the steps and listened at the door of her father’s office. The other voices belonged to that new man she didn’t like and Herb Edwards.