Audrey and the Maverick (8 page)

He turned his horse around. On that slight rise, he could see the mountains in the west, rimmed by the long-gone sun. He sighed. Setting his knees lightly to his mount, he slowly made his way back to camp. Marriage was the right next step for his life, for the children he would father. He was going to marry one of the women he’d short-listed. And if he needed a last romp, then so be it. He would do it now and get it out of his system. He would honor his vows once they were said. And he would play like the devil this one last summer.

Audrey finally made good her promise to Hadley. She hadn’t seen him for almost a week and had a sneaking suspicion McCaid was keeping him busy and away from her. Franklin had told her he was due back tonight, so she’d prepared several double-crusted apple crisps from slices of dried apples she found in the storeroom.

She dished the treat out to ranch hands who looked like boys about to taste their first candy stick. When there was a break in the line, Audrey glanced over and found McCaid leaning against one of the posts supporting the tent canopy. Hands in his pockets, his dark eyes on her, a lock of his straight brown hair curved down over his eyebrow—it was all Audrey could do not to suck in a sharp breath.

“Would you care for some crisp, Mr. McCaid?” He looked from her to the baking dish and back again, a dark brow raised, his unspoken question hanging in the air.

Audrey looked at the crisp and grinned. So he knew it was Hadley’s requested treat. “You don’t have a sweet tooth?”

He didn’t answer right away. “Oh, I have a sweet tooth,” he drawled.

“But you don’t care for apple crisp?”

“I don’t care for that apple crisp.”

Audrey’s smile widened. “I see.”

McCaid was spared having to respond by a ruckus that kicked up as a rider came tearing through camp. Ordinarily, the hands were careful not to stir up dust so near the cook tent, but the rider only pulled up a dozen feet from McCaid.

“Franklin wanted me to get you, boss. The northwest fence has been cut. It’s a bloody goddamned mess. Dead sheep everywhere. Some not quite dead.”

McCaid hollered for a man to saddle his horse. He barked out orders in rapid succession, setting hands to double up at their watch posts, to pass out rifles, to bring lanterns. Jenkins ran inside the cookhouse and popped open a large cabinet. He pulled out rifle after rifle, tossing them to the men who came to retrieve them, throwing boxes of ammunition like candy at a parade.

McCaid caught a rifle, and a box too. “Stay here,” he ordered Jenkins as he loaded rounds into his Winchester. “Keep Miss Sheridan and Amy safe.”

“Yes, sir!”

McCaid swung up into his saddle. Audrey couldn’t decipher the look he gave her as his horse danced restlessly beneath him. She watched him spin away and ride off. Men rushed about the camp, taking up their posts, grabbing their horses. Amy Lynn was hugging her leg. She picked her foster daughter up.

“It’s all right, baby. Don’t be afraid.” It was hard not to be frightened, with men shouting and horses thundering by, when just moments before the camp had been settling into its evening routine. Audrey wondered if she had seen McCaid for the last time, if—somewhere out there—Kemp’s men were lying in wait for him. The sick tension in her stomach deepened.

“Don’t you be frightened either, Miss Audrey. Them that done this, they gotta know the camp’s armed. They’d be fools to ride in here. Not a one of ’em would make it out alive,” Jenkins said as he pushed several rounds into his rifle. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Audrey looked at him. She had experienced some frightening things in Defiance, but this was far worse. “So we just wait?”

Jenkins nodded. “We just wait.”

Hours passed. Audrey went about cleaning up the supper dishes and prepared what she could for the morning meal, all while Jenkins stood nearby, his gun at the ready. The camp was dark and quiet, strangely so after the tumult resulting from the rider’s announcement. Eventually, she and Amy retired to their cabin, with Jenkins posted outside the door and a chair propped under the other door.

Despite her anxiety, or perhaps because of it, Audrey was asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. Sometime in the night, a fierce pounding at her door roused her. Sleepily, she went to the door and opened it. Jenkins stood there.

“Miss Audrey! Come quick! There’s been an injury—”

Audrey stepped outside, barefoot and in her nightgown, and closed the door behind her. Jenkins stopped her, a hand on her shoulder. “Honey, you can’t come out like that. But there’s no time to dress. Put yer coat on and grab yer boots.”

Audrey turned around woodenly, blinking the sleep from her eyes. The cold night air was rapidly rousing her. She turned back, awake now and frightened. Torches and lamps were lit all around the camp. “Is it McCaid? Is McCaid hurt?”

“No, Mr. McCaid’s fine. It’s one of the boys. Hurry now.”

Audrey quickly donned her coat and laced up her boots over her bare feet. She ran to catch up to Jenkins, grabbing his sleeve. “Is it over?”

He looked at her, his lips thinned. “For now. For this round, at least.”

They came to the cook tent. A dozen men were crowded around a man who was sprawled and moaning on the ground. Audrey pushed her way through the men and knelt beside him.

Hadley.

“What is it? What’s happened?” she asked those standing around him as she began running her hands over her friend, starting at the top of his head, his shoulders, his arms, his chest. She saw no blood. Pulling his coat aside, she found a jagged slice across his upper thigh. It was fairly deep and long, but thankfully was on the outside of his leg, else he’d be long gone. She started to stand, intending to organize the men to gather what she would need to see to his injury, but Hadley pulled her back down. His hand bunched in her coat lapel as he drew her close to his face.

“You stitch this,” he ordered from clenched teeth. “You do it, Audrey. I don’t want to wait for that barber-butcher. I don’t want him near my leg.”

Audrey smiled, trying to reassure him. She was no doctor. She could stitch simple cuts, but she couldn’t mend ligaments or stave off fever. And she didn’t know yet how bad his injury was. “Easy now, Hadley.” She brushed his hair from his face, feeling his forehead as she did so to make sure a fever hadn’t set in. His skin was still cool. “That’s far too much bellyaching for a little scratch. I’ll stitch you up—we won’t get the barber. Give me a minute to get my supplies.” She pulled herself free of his grip and sat back on her haunches, looking at the men circled around her friend. She didn’t know their names.

“You.” She pointed to one. “Get some whiskey. You, bring some blankets and get him situated on the table over there. You, take his pants off and cover him with a blanket so he doesn’t catch a chill—careful of that wound. You, start some water heating.” She went into the cookhouse, opening drawers and cabinets, looking for the needles and thread she had seen earlier, as well as the bandages.

“Miss Sheridan—Audrey,” McCaid said, coming over to her. Had he been in the circle? She hadn’t seen him. She sent a quick look over him, glad he was in one piece. He took her arms, his face bleak. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll send for the doctor.”

A harsh laugh broke from Audrey. “There’s no doctor in Defiance, McCaid. The nearest one is a two-day ride from here. This man needs to be stitched now.”

“Then a barber, someone in Defiance.”

“The barber is heavier handed than a blacksmith. Would you want him to work on your leg?”

McCaid’s brows lowered as he searched her face. “Are you up to this?”

“This isn’t the first wound I’ve stitched, and it won’t be the last.”

“Here you go, missy,” Jenkins asked, handing her the needle and thread. “I think you were lookin’ fer these?”

“Bandages and a couple towels—where are they?” she asked.

“I’ll get ’em,” Jenkins said as he shuffled over to one of his cabinets.

Audrey rolled up her coat and nightgown sleeves, donned an apron, then scrubbed her hands. Drying her hands on a fresh towel, she went outside to Hadley. His friends had him laid out on a blanket on the serving table with another blanket rolled up under his head and two more covering him. The whiskey bottle was on the table, near his shoulder.

“Are you ready, Hadley?”

“Can I have some of that whiskey first?”

She nodded to one of the men standing near him. He braced an arm under Hadley so that he could lift the bottle to his mouth. While he drank, Audrey pushed the blanket aside to get a good look at his wound. “Can you tell me what happened?” she asked him.

“Dunno. Something spooked my horse. She shied away, catching my leg on a nail in a fence post.”

One of the boys brought over the heated water she had asked for, and Audrey set to work. She cleaned the wound first, then drizzled whiskey on the jagged opening. She dragged the needle and thread through the whiskey to sanitize them. Pulling the edges of the wound together, she had him stitched up in short order. She washed the fresh blood away, then dribbled a bit more whiskey over the wound. Finally, she wrapped his leg in a clean bandage and covered him again with the blanket.

“All done.” She took his hand in one of hers and gave it a squeeze. “It was a flesh wound. The nail didn’t cut any ligaments or bone. You’re lucky, because I couldn’t have fixed those. It should knit up just fine.”

Audrey sent one of the men to fetch Hadley’s bedroll, which she had him set out by the large fire pit. She wanted Hadley close by so that she could keep her eye on him during the day tomorrow. While a couple of the men helped Hadley get settled for the night, she washed her hands and turned her attention to cleaning up the worktable so that it would be ready for the morning. When next she looked around, most of the men had retired. Only McCaid remained.

“Finished?” he asked as she hung up her bloodied apron.

She nodded. “How did it go tonight?”

“I lost about fifty head. And one man. His throat was cut like the goddamned sheep.”

Audrey gasped. That had Kemp’s signature all over it. How often had he threatened that very fate to her? she thought, unable to suppress a violent shiver.

“Come on,” McCaid said, turning her toward her cabin. “Let’s get you back to bed. Morning’s but a few hours away. I’ve got the men on double shifts. The only good thing in their days for a long while will be your cooking, so you’d better get some sleep. You’re going to need your strength.”

Audrey folded her arms and tucked her hands beneath their warmth. Perhaps it was her fatigue making her so chilled. Or perhaps it was the reality of her situation sinking in. She was glad her children weren’t with her here. It was far too dangerous a place for them to be.

At the doorstep to her cabin, she paused, turning to face McCaid. He watched her, quietly, his dark eyes tired and angry. Audrey wished he would hold her, tell her this would all work out right, that she and Amy Lynn—her whole family—would be safe. But that was false thinking. She knew, better than she wished to know, such assurances could not be kept. She had best look to herself for her own safety. It was foolish to rely on anyone else. And it was dangerous to want to.

Audrey started to fuss with one of her coat buttons. Looking down, she was disconcerted to see she’d put her coat on so hastily that big tufts of her linen nightgown escaped above and below the few buttons she had fastened. She touched her long braid, wondering if it was coming undone. Long tendrils of her hair probably stood at odd angles about her like a horse shedding its woolly winter hair. She was a dreadful sight. She gazed at McCaid, in some distress, wishing he would look away. Instead, a rueful smile lifted one corner of his mouth.

“Good night, Miss Sheridan,” he said. “Thank you for what you did tonight. I wouldn’t have asked it of you—I wouldn’t have thought you equal to the task. You always seem to surprise me.” He touched his thumb to her chin, feathering it gently across her skin as his eyes watched hers. “I’m going to Defiance tomorrow. Sheriff Kemp’s got some explaining to do.”

Fear stabbed Audrey’s gut. “No!” She grabbed hold of his arms. “You can’t go to town!”

McCaid frowned. “Why?”

“It isn’t safe for you to go there. Please, McCaid. Please don’t go.”

“I’m not afraid of the sheriff.”

“You should be.”

“I have no doubt he’s behind the attack tonight. I can’t let it go unpunished. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

“Then take me with you. Please.” She had to check on her family—had to be sure they were safe.

“No. I haven’t forgotten the bruises you came here with—have you?”

“I’m not safe here either. Look what happened tonight. Please, McCaid.”

His intense expression was clearly visible by the light of the moon. Her stomach knotted as her fear grew that he would not bring her with him.

“Fine. We’ll leave after breakfast tomorrow and stay a night in town. Jenkins can tend things while you have a short break. You’d best get some rest—morning comes early after a night like this one.”

The wagon lurched as McCaid drew to a stop in front of the general store. Amy wiggled restlessly, anxious to get down. Audrey helped her off and she ran inside. McCaid stepped off the wagon and reached up for Audrey. She took hold of his shoulders as he swung her down. His hands were warm and large at her waist. He didn’t release her right away, and she didn’t entirely mind being held so close to him. She wanted to warn him again, but she knew he wouldn’t listen. There certainly was no way to hide him, pretend he hadn’t come to town. The best she could do was warn Malcolm and Leah to be extra vigilant with the kids.

“Will Kemp cause you problems?” McCaid asked. “I swear I will kill him if you’re bruised when I see you tomorrow. Perhaps you should stay with me. I could take a second room for you and Amy at Maddie’s.”

“McCaid, this is my town, my home. I will be fine.”

He made a face. “You will be here tomorrow….”

“I’ll be here. Thank you for bringing us to town.” Worried their private conversation would be noted, she reluctantly pulled away from him.

“Audrey!” Malcolm called to her as Amy drew him by the hand out to the boardwalk in front of the store. Audrey started up the steps, hoping he hadn’t seen her standing with McCaid. She gave her brother a quick embrace, then introduced him to McCaid. Both men shook hands and sized each other up.

Jim’s wife, Sally, heard the commotion and came running out from the storeroom to greet them. She gave Audrey a big hug, then leaned back to give her a once-over. She sent McCaid a dark look as she asked Audrey, “Are you well, dear? Has it been terrible?”

“I’m fine. Mr. McCaid’s ranch is beautiful, though there has been some trouble out there. Someone cut his fences and killed the sheep that got loose. One of his men was killed, another injured. You remember Hadley Baker.”

“I do. Tell me he wasn’t the one killed!”

“No, no! But he was injured. His leg was pinned between his horse and the wire fence. He has a nasty cut.”

Sally gasped. “I wish you weren’t out there, dear. It’s no place for a woman, with all that trouble going on.”

“My men and I watch out for her, Mrs. Kessler,” McCaid reassured her. “We won’t let anything happen to her. By the way, Amy Lynn is in need of some new shoes. She could use some new stockings as well, and anything else that Miss Sheridan requires. Please put it on my tab.”

Malcolm’s face tightened as his gaze shifted from McCaid to Audrey. “What about the others?”

Audrey gave a warning shake of her head.

“What others?” McCaid asked her.

“There are other children in town, besides Amy, in need of shoes as well, that’s all.” Audrey spoke before her brother could. McCaid gave her one of his disturbingly penetrating looks. She carefully kept her face blank.

“Well, boy,” he said to Malcolm, “go get them. If the Kesslers don’t have enough shoes, they can order more.”

Audrey caught the look Sally sent her; it was not a pleasant one. “Why are you doing this?” Audrey confronted McCaid.

McCaid crossed his arms and stared down at her. “Doing what?”

Audrey leaned forward and spoke in a lowered tone. “Helping us. We don’t need your help.”

“Will you excuse us a minute, Mrs. Kessler?” He took hold of Audrey’s arm, forcibly escorting her outside, away from where their conversation could be overheard or observed. “Don’t be a stubborn idiot, Sheridan.” He turned to her. “Your daughter needs shoes and stockings. Apparently, other children do as well.”

“I don’t want gifts from you. I won’t be indebted to you.”

“Trust me, my motivation is purely selfish. I’m outfitting your daughter so that you can focus on the work I need you to focus on instead of worrying whether you need to trim off more of her shoes to accommodate her growing feet.”

Audrey gasped. She was saved from answering, however, by the arrival of her other children. Seven wiggling bodies mobbed her, pressing in to greet her. They jumped and spoke excitedly, all hurrying to tell their news since she had left. Nervously, she looked at McCaid over their heads. He was studying them curiously. Malcolm held the door for them, and they all filed inside.

“Who are all these children?” McCaid asked as they followed the kids inside.

“They come from different families. Times have been hard in town,” Audrey answered, being purposefully vague.

“Mrs. Kessler, please do what you can for them,” McCaid directed her. “If you must order some things, do so and put it on my bill.” Just then, Jim entered the store. He looked disconcerted to see all the children; then his face brightened when he saw Audrey. He greeted McCaid. Audrey absently heard him ask how things were going on the ranch. She became absorbed in the work at hand, fitting all the children for socks or stockings and new shoes.

It made sense to buy a pair for all the children, even if theirs were yet fine. She and Sally went up to the next size for the kids who didn’t need new ones. Despite her concern at the hidden cost of McCaid’s help, Audrey was greatly relieved. The kids usually went barefoot in the summer and in the autumn she faced the burden of buying new shoes. Now they would have plenty of pairs for the younger ones to grow into. Hopefully they could get through the next year without having to buy more than a couple of pairs. This was very generous of McCaid.

Once finished with the shopping, Audrey had each of the children thank McCaid. Luc and Kurt exchanged quick handshakes with him, giving him as dark a look as Malcolm had. McCaid appeared a little bemused, but said nothing.

Audrey left the store with the kids in tow. She was anxious to visit with them and see what had happened in the time she’d been gone. She listened as one and then another talked over each other, in a hurry to tell all their news. They had kept to their studies. Leah and Malcolm checked their schoolwork. And they had been good about their chores. They wanted to know all that had happened out at Hell’s Gulch.

Audrey had just started to tell them about the cow and chickens and pigs that McCaid had out at his spread when Leah and Wolf came charging toward them. The two women hugged each other tightly. When they pulled apart, Audrey’s eyes were watering. She missed being home, missed her children and her friend. The kids chattered all the way to their front yard, then dispersed, returning to their game of chase. Audrey called to Colleen and Mabel to watch Amy.

Leah smiled at Audrey and looped her arm through hers as they went up her front steps. “We’ll have some coffee, and you can tell me all about Hell’s Gulch.”

A quick look around the small interior of her home set Audrey’s worries at ease. The house was neat. Malcolm and the kids were keeping up with everything nicely. If they could do that for this long, they could do it for the remaining weeks of her sentence.

“Is it bad, at the camp? How is Amy holding up without the other kids?”

“Actually, the men are nice—they like my cooking. Jenkins, the previous cook, is a big help. He’s taken Amy under his wing. They tend the animals together. She loves helping him milk the cow. I think the chickens help her to be less homesick.”

Audrey looked at Leah and drew a deep breath. “Kemp sent a couple of his men out to the camp, said if I say anything about them to McCaid, he’ll hurt the children. And I was supposed to keep McCaid away, but I couldn’t. I don’t know what the sheriff will do. I’m afraid, Leah.” She crossed her arms, feeling a chill despite the room’s warm temperature. “I meant what I said; when I come back, I’m taking the kids away from Defiance.”

“Where would we go?”

We
. The relief that Leah would come with her was overwhelming. She took hold of her friend’s hands. “Cheyenne. Or Denver. I don’t know. Anywhere. I could be a seamstress. I could take in laundry and start my business by doing small repairs and such. You could be a baker there. We would make ends meet.”

Leah pulled her hands free and took a few steps into the room. “I like Defiance, Audrey. I still have enough customers to make a decent living. I can hunt and fish. I don’t know if I could do that if we moved to a bigger town. And we have our vegetable garden. We just need Defiance to turn around.”

“But what if it doesn’t? What if everyone goes, and we’re left with only Kemp and his men?”

“I’ll think about it, Audrey. I promise.”

Knowing she couldn’t press further, Audrey caught her up on everything that had happened at the ranch, and Leah did the same for the news from town. As they talked, Audrey gathered bed linens and soiled clothes, taking care of the wash that hadn’t been done since she left.

A few hours later, the laundry lines out back were full. She’d seen to baths for all the children and had a pot of stew on for supper. It felt good to be home. She missed the children’s noise, missed visiting with Leah. She was putting fresh linens on her bed when Kurt came running into the house.

“McCaid’s coming!” he blurted out.

Audrey exchanged a look with Leah. “Kurt, you and Luc keep the kids away. I don’t know what he wants, but I will get rid of him.”

Leah and Kurt went out the back way as McCaid’s boots sounded on the front steps. Leah pointed to Audrey’s chest. When she looked down, she remembered she had opened the top several buttons of her dress, trying to let air cool her skin while she did the wash.

As she fastened the buttons, she looked around her small dwelling with a conflicting mixture of pride and embarrassment. This house belonged to her and Malcolm. They owned it and the tiny lot it was on. Though McCaid could fit her little home in his house at Hell’s Gulch ten times over, she was proud of it. And doubtless that was only one of his many homes.

A knock sounded on her front door.

Audrey squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, determined to focus on the gulf that stood between her and McCaid. He was not a part of her world, and she would never be a part of his. It didn’t help that she hungered for the sight of him. It didn’t help that she woke every day at Hell’s Gulch knowing she would see him, perhaps speak to him. Even now her heart was hammering, her breathing shallow. Why was he here? She opened the door.

“Mr.—” she began, before getting a good look at him. “Oh! Good heavens!” He looked as if he’d been run over by a wagon. One cheek was red and swollen. The skin at his temple was scraped and bleeding. A corner of his mouth leaked a thin trickle of blood. She reached out and pulled him into her home, noticing his knuckles were in no better shape than his face.

“I’m fine.” He resisted being drawn into the room. “I didn’t come here for nursing. I just thought I’d check on you before I settle in at Maddie’s for the evening.”

She removed his hat and eased his hair away to examine the scrape on his forehead. “What happened?” she asked again, forcefully directing him over to the kitchen. She fetched a bowl of hot water and a clean cloth.

He leaned against the counter of the dry sink and crossed his arms. “The sheriff’s not in town, but his men and I don’t see eye-to-eye on the matter of his responsibilities to area ranchers—namely me. I guess they didn’t like hearing his days as sheriff were numbered. When I left, two of his ramrods tried to rough me up.”

Audrey dabbed at the cut by his lip, relieved at the news that Kemp was gone. McCaid winced and pulled away. She rinsed her cloth. “Be still. If I don’t do this, Maddie will, and she hasn’t the light touch I have.” She risked a look at his eyes. “You should avoid the sheriff and his men. He’ll be no help to you. Honestly, Mr. McCaid, as long as you run sheep, you won’t have any peace.”

“It’s got nothing to do with the sheep, Audrey. It’s me. Kemp doesn’t like me.”

That must have struck him as funny, for he flashed a grin at her. She quickly pressed the cloth to the injured corner of his mouth as she held her other hand against his cheek. “Don’t smile. You’ll open your cut again.”

At her touch, his grin faded and his eyes darkened. He took hold of her wrist and moved her palm to his lips. Audrey couldn’t breathe. No man other than McCaid had ever looked at her that way—not that she’d noticed anyway. She rinsed the cloth and started to work on his temple, hoping he wouldn’t feel her hands shaking.

Julian watched her intent expression, felt the tremor in her touch. Her skin was dewy from the water steaming on the stove and the heat of the room. Little tendrils of hair curled about her face. She was close, not even a hand-span from his face. He could lean forward slightly—only a very little bit—and connect their lips.

His gaze dropped to her mouth, which was parted slightly as she worked on him. Inches. Scant inches separated them. He ached to have her in his arms, to taste the skin of her neck. Her breathing seemed irregular. The top few buttons of her blouse were haphazardly fastened, mismatched from her chest up. Blood throbbed in his groin. She pressed the cloth to his temple, hurting his bruised skin. “Ouch!”

“Sorry.” She took hold of his chin. “Hold still. You wiggle like a twelve-year-old boy.”

Julian clamped his jaw shut.

She switched from working on his face to his hands. “Tell me the others look as bad as you do,” she said as she dipped his hands in a fresh bowl of water and rinsed the blood away.

He didn’t answer her. He couldn’t think; he could only feel as her hands slid over his, soothing, easing his pain even as she set him on fire.

“All done!” She took up a clean linen and gently dried his hands as she gave him an encouraging smile. He sucked in a long breath of air and looked around the interior of her home. Kitchen, parlor, and bedroom all shared the same cramped space. He started a slow circuit of the room, pacing like a caged animal, delaying his departure.

“Have dinner with me tonight, Audrey. I’ll get Maddie to set a private table for us in her dining room.”

“You forget I have Amy Lynn.”

“I’ve forgotten nothing. Didn’t you have a friend living next to you? Leah Morgan was her name, if I remember correctly. She could watch Amy Lynn tonight.”

The back door opened and closed. Audrey tensed. McCaid’s eyes widened. He went to open the door leading to the back room. Audrey quickly blocked him.

“Who are you protecting?” he asked

“No one.”