Malachite (The Jewels of Texas Historical Romance Series Book 5) (21 page)

“Then how do you explain all the bad things that have happened since he showed up around here?” an old man taunted.

“I can’t explain them. I only know they weren’t caused by this mustang.”

“Why should we believe you?” a woman called.

“I don’t know.” Malachite shook his head sadly. “You have no more reason to believe me than you have to believe that this horse caused all your misfortunes. I can only hope in time you’ll see that a horse can’t cause a blizzard or cause a ranch to fail or cause a man to die.”

“Where are you planning to keep that stallion?” Rufus Durfee asked.

“For now, I’ll keep him out at the Jewel ranch. Why?”

“Well, I figure if the Jewel ranch starts to fail, we’ll know who to blame.”

“Fair enough,” Malachite said with an easy smile. “And if the ranch continues to prosper, will you admit that Diablo is nothing more than a fine stallion?”

Rufus scratched his head, mulling over the question. Slowly he nodded. “Sounds about right to me.”

“How about the rest of you?” Malachite turned to study the crowd, which had grown strangely quiet.

The widow Purdy stepped forward, leaning on her daughter’s arm. “I knew your father, young man. Onyx Jewel was a sensible, honorable man. Looks to me like there’s a lot of him in you. What you’re saying makes sense.” She turned to the others. “I say we give Malachite Jewel and his horse a chance to prove themselves.”

A murmur of approval rippled through the crowd. Heads began to nod, and voices could be heard murmuring their agreement.

“Well now,” Marshal Regan called. “Since that’s decided, I say you should all return to your own business and let Mr. Jewel get on with his.”

Millie gave a deep sigh of relief. Seeing Byron’s look of rage, she turned to Malachite. “Please stay for supper.”

He winked. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

“Can I take Diablo to the shed?” April asked. “I’ll be real careful. I promise.”

Malachite handed her the reins, and she proudly fed the stallion away, much to the amazement of those still watching. But as she reached the door of the shed, the horse suddenly pulled free and began rearing and snorting.

April let out a bloodcurdling scream and fell to the ground. As the crowd watched in shock, the horse reared again and again, its hooves battering the snow-covered ground with such fury blood actually flew through the air.

“God in heaven—no!” Malachite reacted instinctively, drawing his gun while racing forward. And all the while his mind recoiled from the thought that he had caused harm, and possible death, to innocent little April.

M
arshal Regan cradled his rifle and followed Malachite at a run.

The rest of the crowd took off in hot pursuit, some crying, some shouting, many swearing. All were afraid of what they would see, yet drawn with horrified fascination to witness yet another proof of Diablo’s curse.

Malachite dropped to one knee and took aim. From somewhere beside him he could hear Byron Conner’s voice urging him to shoot. Sweat trickled into his eyes, blurring his vision. He wiped it away with his sleeve. What he was about to do required perfect aim.

Just as he was about to squeeze off a shot, April flung herself into his arms with such force she knocked him backward.

“No, Malachite! What are you doing?” she screamed.

“I thought...” He sat up, holding her a little away to make certain she was really unharmed. Even then he was afraid to believe his eyes. But the proof was here in his arms. She didn’t have a single scratch or cut. There was no trace of blood on her. And still he could hear Byron’s high-pitched voice, ordering him to shoot the stallion. “I thought Diablo had gone mad and was attacking you.”

“Not me, Malachite,” she said between labored breaths. “See.” She pointed.

It was then that he noticed the bloodied remains of several snakes lying mangled in the crimson-spattered snow.

“Wait,” he hollered before Marshal Regan could fire off a shot. “Don’t shoot.”

Stunned, Quent lowered his rifle. With the toe of his boot he kicked at the snow. “There must have been a nest of rattlers,” he said with a trace of awe. “Most horses would run a mile in the other direction to avoid them.”

“But Diablo loves me,” April said. “He’d never let anything happen to me. Would he, Malachite?”

“No, honey. I guess he wouldn’t.”

“Diablo saved my life,” she said.

Malachite got to his feet, still holding the little girl in his arms. He was trembling, he realized. For the first time in his life he’d been absolutely terrified.

He looked at the stallion, standing quietly, eyes wide and knowing, fixed on the little girl.

“You were going to kill Diablo, weren’t you, Malachite?” April asked in a small voice.

He nodded, feeling a tightness in his chest. “Of course I was. I’d never let anything hurt you, April.”

“Oh, Malachite. You love me even more than Diablo.” At the realization she buried her face against his neck and began to sob.

At the sight of them Millie stood very still, tears streaming down her face, clinging tightly to her other two daughters. Behind them, the crowd watched in silence. But many wiped away tears of their own.

“I think maybe we’ve just seen a sign,” the widow Purdy called out.

When the others turned to her, she explained, “What we just witnessed was certainly not the work of any devil. I’d say this proves, once and for all, that the dark cloud that’s been hanging over our town has been lifted. Thanks to Onyx Jewel’s son.”

Leaning heavily on the arm of her daughter, she walked away. Slowly, one after another, the rest of the crowd fell back, leaving Malachite and Millie and their families alone. To weep. To embrace. And finally to rejoice at their good fortune.

* * *

“Congratulations, Millie.” Byron Conner pushed his way through the crowd until he was beside her. While she held her arms stiffly at her sides, he gathered her against his chest and brushed a hand along her back. “You must live under a lucky star. If that stallion had been after April, there would have been no way to save her. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a gun with me. Otherwise, I’m sure I would have been quicker than Jewel or the marshal.”

At the moment, Millie’s heart was too filled with love and gratitude to harbor any ill will. With quiet dignity she pushed free of his arms and made her way to where Malachite was still standing, holding April in his arms.

“I’ll never forget this.” She wrapped her arms around both of them and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s cheek.

“I think this calls for a celebration,” Byron announced loudly.

“Would you like that, April?” Millie asked.

The little girl nodded.

“Then I’ll make a special supper in your honor.” She caught hands with May and June and led the way into her house, with Malachite and April following. Byron and the entire Jewel family trailed behind. And as fires were stoked and a hearty meal prepared, the big old house was once again filled with the sounds of happy conversation and the trill of childish laughter.

* * *

“Oh, Millie, I don’t know when I’ve had such a fine supper.” Pearl sat back, cuddling little Amber, who had fallen asleep.

Adam polished off a second helping of custard. “It was a meal worthy of a holiday.”

“This day feels like a holiday,” Millie said as she circled the table and topped off their coffee cups. “I thought, for a few terrible moments, I’d lost my daughter.” She paused to drop a kiss on April’s head. “But she’s safe and sound, thanks to Malachite.”

“I didn’t save her. Diablo did.”

She met Malachite’s gaze across the table. “But he’s your horse. And you trusted him, even though I didn’t.”

“You had every right not to trust him.”

“Will you let me ride him again soon, Malachite?” April asked.

At Millie’s gasp he muttered, “I don’t think you ought to press your luck.”

“But you will, won’t you?”

“When your mother says you can.”

He gave her a wink, and her smile bloomed. If anyone could persuade her mother it was Malachite.

At the end of the table, Birdie, who had been pressed into service for this unexpected celebration with the Jewel family, sat next to Gil. Whenever they thought no one was looking, they exchanged long, silent glances.

“Gil, maybe this is a good time to tell everyone about your surprise,” Pearl prompted.

Gil looked suddenly uncomfortable.

“What surprise?” Birdie asked.

“I’ve known for some time that Gil’s clever mind has moved beyond my small classroom.” Pearl’s pride in her adopted son was evident in her voice. “So I sent some of his papers to an eastern university, and they’ve accepted him for a course of study.”

“You’re... going east?” Birdie’s smile faltered.

He shook his head. “Ma wanted me to. She’s told me all about her childhood in Boston. And I guess it’d be nice, having lots of people and houses and streets and such. But I can’t leave Hanging Tree. I just wouldn’t want to live if I couldn’t saddle up a horse and go out into the hills by myself sometimes.”

“The university enrolled Gil in a course of home study. And the dean remarked that Gil had written some of the finest papers and completed the toughest mathematical equations he’d ever witnessed in a student.” Pearl exchanged a proud smile with her husband. “Can you imagine? Our Gil has been singled out by one of the finest universities in the country?”

Uncomfortable with all the praise, Gil suddenly stood and began collecting dishes. “Come on, Birdie. I’ll help you clear the table.”

The two young people escaped to the kitchen, where their voices could be heard in muted conversation.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to leave this fine company.” Byron pushed away from the table. “I’m meeting with Frank Cooper tonight about his mortgage.”

Diamond swore. “You’re not going to foreclose?”

Byron gave a negligent shrug of his shoulders. “I’m not free to discuss Frank’s business. But he’s an old man. I think everyone in town has known for some time that his herds are dwindling. The last straw was when his barn burned.”

“But where will he go?” Diamond pounded a fist on the table. “Damn it. He’s lived his whole life in Hanging Tree. He was one of Pa’s oldest friends.”

“I believe he and Nellie have relatives in St. Louis. Life will be simpler there.” Byron started across the room.

“You know what folks around here will say.” Diamond glanced at her husband, then at Malachite. “It’s Diablo’s fault.”

Byron smiled as he took his leave.

For long minutes after he left, no one spoke. The news of another failed ranch had shattered the festive mood.

“Come on,” Adam said, “I’ve got some good cigars. Why don’t we go out back and smoke while the women finish up in here?”

“It’s too cold outside.” Millie pointed to the parlor. “Go in there and enjoy your cigars. And if you’d like, I’ll bring you some elderberry wine.”

The men gave her no argument as they exited the dining room. A short time later, as she approached with a tray containing a decanter and glasses, she heard the low rumble of masculine voices.

“What’ll you do with the rest of those mustangs, Malachite?”

“As soon as I can saddle-train them, I’ll take them up to Fort Denver. The soldiers there pay top dollar for good saddle horses.”

Millie shivered. Fort Denver was halfway to Montana. Malachite had said he’d be returning to Montana by springtime.

“What about Diablo?”

“I’m going to use him to found a dynasty. I’ve already spotted two mares with the same fine bloodlines. If they successfully breed, I’ll know I’m on the right track.”

“So you won’t follow your pa into the cattle business?”

“I’ve got nothing against cattle. And I think my father made a wise choice, settling here. But I think one day this land will be worth more than those cows.”

The men, being cattlemen, couldn’t resist scoffing.

“But I’m a horseman,” Malachite went on. “That’s what I love. And a man has to follow his heart.”

The voices abruptly stopped when Millie entered.

“Here you are, gentlemen.” The air was sweet with the rich aroma of tobacco. A fire blazed on the hearth. Millie filled the glasses, then passed them around. “Do you need anything else?”

“Not a thing.” Malachite walked her to the door, allowing himself the pleasure of touching her cheek before she hurried away.

He closed the door and turned back to the others. “As I was saying, a man has to follow his heart. And if a man has spent a lifetime loving his ranch, it seems to me he’d find a way to keep it from failing.”

“Every rancher knows it’s a gamble.” Cal McCabe watched smoke curl over his head. “Hell, your daddy nearly went busted half a dozen times. Things got so bad once, I was the only wrangler left. Onyx and I did everything ourselves. The calvings, the brandings, the roundups and the drive to Abeline.”

“But he made it work. He didn’t fold. And he didn’t quit.” One more mark in his father’s favor. “Cal, I wonder if you might ask that smart son of yours to do something.” Malachite studied the gleaming tip of his cigar for a minute.

“Sure thing. But what’s this all about?” Cal asked.

“There’s been something nagging at me all evening.”

The men waited.

Malachite drained his glass in one long swallow. Then, in low tones, he told them of his concerns. And laid before them his plan.

* * *

Overnight the winds had shifted from northeast to southwest, chasing the bite from the air.

Millie felt an unreasonable need to clean her house from top to bottom. After sitting unused for several weeks, the rugs and linens definitely needed an airing. The clothesline bloomed with patched sheets and threadbare blankets.

The kitchen was steamy from the pans of water heating over the stove. She laid out her assortment of mismatched dishes and began to wash and dry. When they had all been put away, she tackled cobwebs and dust and dirt, sweeping, scrubbing, until the entire house gleamed.

When the last load of laundry had been folded and put away, she made herself a cup of tea and sat wearily at her table.

She stared around at the peeling walls, the faded rugs, the shabby furniture. It hadn’t helped. All the scouring, all the backbreaking work had been in vain. She hadn’t been able to block out the thought of Malachite and what she’d overheard in the parlor.

Already he was hard at work at the ranch, saddle-training the mustangs. This morning, when she’d driven the wagonload of children to school, she had detoured past the Jewel ranch on her way home. Malachite was out in the corral, working with a skittish mare. There had been time for only a quick embrace and one mind-numbing kiss before he’d returned to his work.

She wasn’t sure she could go on like this, with so many miles between them. Malachite refused to stay alone in his father’s home, preferring instead to sleep in the bunkhouse. And he adamantly refused to return to her boardinghouse, saying the gossip would destroy her daughters’ reputations.

She should be grateful for his thoughtfulness. Most men would take what they wanted without a second thought to what others said. But he’d had firsthand experience in such matters. She thought about what had been done to him in Montana. That he had survived was a miracle. But he’d been forced to pay too dear a price while enduring the cruelty of others.

She drained her cup and stirred the pot of stew simmering over the fire. Then she drew on her shawl and made her way to the wagon. She was grateful that Gil had offered to drive the girls over to the Jewel ranch after school let out. That would give her a chance to see Malachite, at least for a few minutes, before returning home.

Millie flicked the reins as the horse and cart crested a hill. The scene below stirred her heart. The hillside teemed with lowing cattle. To one side of the barn, several new corrals had been built. Each enclosure held several dozen mustangs. Malachite could be seen moving among them, culling those that would be trained to saddle.

As she drew near, she saw the great black stallion saddled, standing outside the corral. While she watched, April emerged from the ranch house and raced toward the big horse, vaulting into the saddle. And while Millie’s heart stopped, the mustang took off at a trot. It was several minutes before Millie could breathe again. And when she did, she realized that her daughter was handling the big horse with all the skill of a cowboy.

“Look, Mama,” April shouted as Millie’s wagon came to a stop. “I’ve been practicing all afternoon so I could surprise you.”

“You certainly did that.” Millie touched a hand to her heart. “I thought for a minute I was seeing things.”

Malachite made his way to the wagon, and Millie’s heart did another flip. Would it always be this way? she wondered. Would her heart always react in this crazy way whenever he was near?