Noah (9 page)

Noah swallowed, wiped away wet streaks from his
face, and pulled himself to his feet.

“I’m all right,” he assured his cousin and then
turned to the horse.

“I’ll go get Doc Fulgrum,” Cal called out.

“There’s no need,” Noah told him quietly.

Cal’s eyes grew wide and his head jerked toward
the dead man.

Noah exchanged glances with Levi, who heaved
the dead man up into his arms and carried him to the house.

“We need to calm this horse before anyone else
gets hurt,” Noah said firmly. “Do you understand?”

The hired hand swallowed, then nodded.

“Good.” He nodded too, then turned to the
beautiful light-colored steed. “Whoa,” Noah called softly as he held up his
hands, stepping toward the distraught horse.

The Arabian tossed his head back and forth, bucking
and twisting awkwardly, snorting a warning at Noah to not get any closer.

The front door clacked against the frame as it
shut. A gentleman with broad shoulders and graying hair stepped out onto the
porch with Kate tucked under his arm, her hand covering her mouth. Their eyes
locked for a brief moment, but when the gentleman started down the stairs with
her, Noah held up his palm to stop them. He needed to focus and he couldn’t do
that if he was worried about Kate.

“Stay back,” he cautioned.

The older gentlemen set Kate down on the steps
and it took everything Noah had inside of him to ignore how the soft blue dress
she wore clung to her very feminine curves, and her newly brushed hair cascaded
down her shoulders and across her chest.

Focus, Deardon!

The Arabian bucked again.

It had been a long time since he’d seen a horse
act so erratically. Something was off. He glanced at the horse’s feet, but by
the way he pranced about, there was no sign of injury to his legs. A red,
sticky-looking splotch appeared just below the ridge of the saddle, oozing down
from the underside of the blanket.

He is hurt.

In moments, Dell, Eamon, Levi, and the three
hired hands had joined him, forming a semi-circle around the mount, ropes at
the ready.

The steed reared, screeching.

“We need to get that saddle off of him,” Noah
declared emphatically.

“You are a blamed fool, Deardon, if you think
you’re going to be able to get close enough to that mount to remove his
saddle.” Dell snorted.

You’ve met this horse, Deardon. Let him know he
can trust you
.

“Levi,” he called quietly. “Go to the barn and
get the bag of apples from my saddle bags.”

Noah continued to watch the horse, trying to
figure out the best way to calm the animal and appeal to his better nature.

“Enough of this.” Dell pulled out his rifle and
aimed.

Click. Click. Click.

Levi stood behind the man, having returned
quickly from his task, his newly cocked pistol aimed at the foreman’s head. “I
wouldn’t,” he said as he handed Noah the fruit.

If shooting a horse without finding a cause for
its behavior was the foreman’s approach to ranching, he was in the wrong
profession.

Noah nodded his appreciation at Levi as he
opened the bag.

Dell dropped the rifle to his side and Levi
re-holstered his weapon.

“Whoa, big fella,” Noah said, placing one of
the apples in his palm as he had last night and then he tucked another under
his arm. “It’s all right.” He took a step toward the horse, the other hand
raised lightly, his fingers waving in a downward motion. “I can’t help you,
boy, if you won’t let me.” He spoke soothingly to the fitful Arabian.

The horse neighed and took a few steps
backward.

Noah broke his eye contact and dropped his
head, inviting the steed closer.

Nature’s silence descended on the ranch as everyone
stood around them, watching. The horse stopped kicking about and, for the
moment, stood perfectly still, except for his irregularly swishing tail. He
tousled his head, but didn’t shy away as Noah got closer.

Amazed, he held out the apple and waited,
breathing slowly, but deeply. The horse sniffed at the treat, then wrapped his
lips around it and took a bite. When it was gone, Noah took a side step toward
the saddle, but the Arabian backed away several short steps, still wary of
assistance.

“What should we call you, boy?” he asked,
almost in a whisper. He’d never learned Mr. Thomas’s name for the mount and
thought it a shame.

What a magnificent animal.

The horse dipped his head and sniffed at the
air.

“Do you want another one?” He retrieved the
apple from under his arm and placed it in his palm, repeating the process.

This time, Noah backed away a few feet and sat
down on the ground, facing the guarded horse, but giving him his space.

He waited in silence as did the small, anxious
crowd.

After several minutes, the beautiful animal
took a step toward him, then another, until he dropped his head level with
Noah’s.

“Good boy,” he said, reaching out to rub the
horse’s nose, grazing over the bridle as he grasped a hold of the slack reins.

Noah moved his attention to the neck as he
pulled himself into a standing position and maneuvered to the horse’s flank. He
quickly unbuckled the rear cinch and let it hang while he moved to the front,
cautiously draping the fender and stirrup up over the saddle as he folded the
tie strap.

When it was time to remove the saddle, Noah grabbed
ahold of either end of it. The Arabian was tall, standing at least fourteen
hands, so he was careful not to slide the tack from the horse’s back as he
lifted. He handed the saddle to Levi and reached for the blanket. There was a
distinct bump in the wool covering directly above the blood that now stained
the light coloring of the horse. He eased the blanket backward away from the
horse’s hide and only when it stuck did the steed start to fidget. Noah slowly
pulled a little harder, peeling back the cloth to reveal a full stem of thick,
dark brown burrs embedded into flesh, drawing blood.

He exchanged glances with Levi.

“How did an experienced horseman, like Clifford
Thomas claimed to be, not know there were burrs attached to the underside of
his saddle blanket?” Noah shook his head as he reached down slowly to pull the
knife from the sheath in his boot. “Unless…”

“Someone else saddled his mount,” Levi finished
his thought.

Why would someone want to hurt a man so new to
town? Whatever the answer, Noah knew he needed to protect Kate. If someone were
trying to sabotage the ranch, then she was in as much danger as any of them. If
not more.

Noah eased the blade of the knife beneath the
prickly thorns and eased them out of the horse’s hide. Once the nuisance had
been removed, the Arabian shook his head and nickered quietly. He moved in a
circle, nudging Noah’s armpit.

Noah laughed, realizing he was looking for
another apple.

Levi handed him the bag.

“Who did this to you, boy?” he asked,
remembering the conversation he’d had with Kate on the way home about one of
the fences on the east side of the property being down and cattle being
corralled. Something was definitely off and someone at the ranch had a lot of
explaining to do. He just needed to find the culprit and put a stop to his
plans.

“Noah,” Levi started, “if someone here did this
on purpose—”

“I know. The stakes just got a whole lot
steeper.”

“Not quite the type of excitement I’d hoped to
find at a well-respected ranch like White Willow,” Mr. Stiles told Nate, who’d
taken over responsibilities as sheriff.

Noah and Levi wrapped up poor Mr. Thomas’s body
in a grey sheet tied off with rope over several locations on his body and lifted
him atop the undertaker’s canvas stretcher that had been laid out on the floor
in front of the couch.

Kate had seen too much death—enough to last
anyone a lifetime—and she was disheartened at the thought of anyone dying
alone, without someone to mourn their passing. She was saddened that she didn’t
know whether or not Clifford Thomas had any kin or friends to grieve his loss.

“What did you know about this Mr. Thomas?” Nate
asked, his broad shoulders pulled back as he stood at his full height. His dark
hair, sprinkled with grey flecks, had been cut short, and a toothpick protruded
from his mouth. He tilted his head with a crack, then began pacing in front of her
and Dell, one eye half shut as he looked at them.

“Only that he’s from Abilene,” Kate volunteered
from her seat in the rocking chair next to the cool hearth, “but he’d been
working as a drover on a cattle drive through Colorado.” She didn’t know what
else she could tell the new lawman. “He only just arrived a few days ago,” she
told him.

“Why was he here? Was he staying here, Kate? At
White Willow?”

She looked down at the floor. It wasn’t her
fault Mr. Thomas was dead. Was it?

Dell handed Nate a copy of the Boulder
Chronicle newspaper with the ad she’d placed, and stabbed a finger at the
precise spot it was located, nearly tearing the paper from the sheriff’s hands.

How did he get that?

Nate pulled the newspaper down, away from him
to read the fine-sized print. Then, after scanning the ads, his gaze shot up at
Kate.

“This true?” he asked. “You looking for a
husband?”

“Well,” she glanced over at Noah, arms folded,
eyes scrunched together and staring at the sheriff, “yes, sir.”

Nate looked over his shoulder and stepped back
as if noticing Noah, Levi, and Eamon for the first time.

“Walker,” he stepped toward the trio, nodded at
Eamon, and held out his hand. “Levi,” he offered the same courtesy. When he
stood in front of Noah, the handsome would-be suitor stood up tall and held out
his hand.

“Noah Deardon, Sheriff.”

“Didn’t I see you last week after the hanging?”

Noah nodded.

Kate’s gut twisted at the memory of the deputy
marshal hanging from the rafters in that cabin.

He can’t hurt you anymore,
she echoed the
sentiments she’d shared with Stella. Or anyone else. It seemed like ages ago
that she’d seen the man responsible for her father’s death and was surprised
that she’d hardly thought about him since…since…Noah arrived at White Willow.

“New in town?” Nate took the toothpick out of
his mouth with one hand and shook Noah’s hand firmly with the other.

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you here to marry Miss Callahan?”

“Yes, sir,” he said without hesitation.

Kate warmed inside, heat rising in her cheeks.
She barely knew the man, but he had all the right things to say.

Nate’s eyes opened almost as wide as his mouth,
as if he hadn’t quite believed it when it was written in black and white right
in front of him.

“Wouldn’t you give up your home to move across
the country for a chance to marry such a beautiful and smart woman who had
offered to share her life, and her ranch, with you? Even if she couldn’t walk
right for a bit?” Noah added, glancing over at her with a wink. “Frankly, I’m
surprised that half the men in the territory aren’t trying to court her.”

Kate’s insides turned to gelatin. He had to
stop doing that.

“Hmhmmm.” Mr. Stiles, moved his lean and lanky
form quickly between the sheriff and Noah. “Yes, you see, Sheriff,” he said,
“that is exactly what I have done.” He placed a hand on Nate’s shoulder, turned
him toward the kitchen, and walked next to him as if sharing a secret.

Kate could still hear every word from her
position on the couch.

“Well, not
move
exactly, but marry the
girl and share the responsibility of her ranch, absolutely.”

Kate rolled her eyes. She didn’t know why a
businessman from Boston had any desire to ‘share the responsibility of her
ranch.’ And he’d made it abundantly clear that he was only here for the property.

She dared another glance at Noah, who glowered
at Mr. Stiles with his arms folded and his brows scrunched together.

“I am ready for the deceased,” Mr. Dixon
announced as he took a step inside the open doorway.

Noah and Eamon picked up the wooden handles of
the stretcher poles and solemnly followed the undertaker out to his carriage,
followed by Levi and Dell.

Kate pushed herself into a standing position,
keeping her injured foot from touching the floor, and used the furniture and
walls to help maneuver the room. Just as she reached the front door, Nate came
up behind and then around in front of her, standing in the entryway, crooking his
arm.

Nate Boswell had befriended her family when
they’d first arrived in Laramie and had been good to them ever since. She
accepted his kind offer and hopped out onto the porch with him.

“What happened to your foot?” he said, glancing
out, into the distance.

Kate did not want to tell him how she’d made a
fool of herself, ogling Noah Deardon, so she skipped the details.

“Porch railing broke. I fell. Simple as that.”

When they reached the top step, heat rose again
in her cheeks. The railing had not only been mended, but the entire set of
steps and handrail had been completely refinished.

“You getting along all right?”

“I’ve had a lot of help.”

“I can see that,” Nate raised a brow.

Kate hit his arm playfully.

“Mary will want to come by and check in on you.
Maybe bring you some of her sweet potato pie.”

“Fannie’s been very good to me, but you know
how I love Mary’s cooking. I would enjoy the delicacy. Thank you.”

“I don’t know if it’s delicate, but it sure
goes a long way to filling a man’s belly.” He laughed loudly. “And a woman’s,”
he added with a grin.

Silence passed between them as they watched the
men load the body into the back of the hearse.

“You okay with all these fellas staying here at
the ranch?”

“I know how to take care of myself, Nathaniel.”

After her father died, Nate and Dell had taken
it upon themselves to teach her how to shoot, along with a few other basic skills
that would help her out here on the range. She’d learned how to find water and
dig a well, how to skin and clean a deer—a chore she hoped she’d never have to
do again—and how to hitch a team of horses to the wagon. She’d been a quick
learner.

“I know you consider yourself quite an
independent woman. We just worry about you being out here all on your own.”

“I’m not alone. And I’ll be married soon.”

“I’m glad you’re aching to get married.
Marriage is good for the soul.” He looked down at the men standing in the yard.
“So, which one of these lucky fellas gets your hand?” he asked with a knowing
smile.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Kate Callahan, it is as plain as the nose on
your face who you want to choose.” He nudged her shoulder against the wooden
pillar at the top of the stairs. “Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you look
at that Deardon fella.”

Is it that obvious?

“The Harvest Jubilee is next week,” she told
him. I’ve decided I have until then to make a decision.”

Nate laughed.

“And you’re actually considerin’ that
easterner?” He snorted another disbelieving laugh. “You’re not blind, woman,
and you have a good head on your shoulders. You’ll make the right choice. Just
let me know when I can congratulate Deardon.” He left her leaning against the
pillar and ran his hand down the new railing.

How does he do it?

He whistled. “That’s some fine workmanship,” he
said, rubbing the wood. “Whose is it?” he asked with a grin.

Kate squinted at him. She knew he was teasing,
but she wanted to wipe the smirk right of Nate Boswell’s face. He knew exactly
who had mended the railing.

With another chuckle, he descended the rest of
the stairs to join the men at the large, black hearse.

She glanced up at Noah, who caught her looking
at him and smiled warmly, raising his hand in a brief wave, before turning back
to his conversation.

“Glad we are finished with that nasty
business.” Mr. Stiles came up to stand right behind her. “Miss Callahan, if I
may have a moment of your time.”

She wasn’t sure how to tell the man that she’d
already decided that he was no longer being considered for the position as her
husband.

“Mr. Stiles, I appreciate your travelling all
the way out to Laramie, but—”

“I’ve had quite enough of living out here in
such cramped quarters and until we are married and I can join you inside the
house, I will be staying the night in town at the Grand Oak Hotel. I wondered
if you might join me for some supper this evening at the restaurant there.” He
took her hand in his and raised it to his lips.

Kate pulled her hand away slowly, irritated
that the man had completely cut her off.

“Mr. Stiles, as I was saying before, I think it
would be best if—”

“I’ll just accompany the sheriff. If this town
is going to be one of my homes, I would like to get acquainted with the people
in it.” He said, placing his white boater hat on his head as he turned to go
down the stairs.

He did it again!

“I am
not
going to marry you, Mr.
Stiles!” she screamed what she’d been thinking almost since the moment he’d
arrived.

Everyone fell silent and turned to look up at
her. Once again, heat seared her cheeks and she closed her mouth in an
apologetic smile.

If he’d only let her get a word in edgewise, it
would have saved them both the embarrassment.

“Yes, well…” Mr. Stiles didn’t finish his
sentence, just removed his hat with a short bow, and hustled down the rest of
the steps and out to the barn, where she suspected his horse had already been
saddled and waiting.

Mr. Dixon also lifted his hat toward her from
his perch atop the hearse, then slapped the reins, turned his black wagon
around, and headed out through the gate. The others returned to their
discussion without a word to her, but Kate didn’t miss the smile that briefly
touched Noah’s lips.

Mr. Stiles emerged from the barn a few moments
later in a small, uncovered carriage pulled by a single Appaloosa.

Of course.

Kate watched him until he reached the peak of
the hill that would take him down into town. A larger, black carriage crossed
his path, which Kate recognized immediately as Reverend Jones’s. It wasn’t long
before she could make out that it was not the good Reverend in the carriage,
but his wife, Cindy, Nate’s wife, Mary, and Ingrid Fulgrum, the doctor’s wife.
She could only imagine what the women would think of her allowing perfect
strangers to bunk at the ranch along with the hired hands with only Fannie as a
chaperone.

As the ladies pulled in through the wooden
archway at the front of the yard, Nate and Dell went to greet them, while Noah
and Levi joined her on the porch.

“Looks like you’ve got company,” Levi stated
the obvious.

Kate was grateful she’d chosen to wear a dress
today instead of the work trousers and button down shirt she usually donned on
a work day. The last thing she needed was for the three most respected ladies
in town to think she was a heathen. While all of the women were near her age,
they were already married. Mary and Ingrid both had little girls and the latter
was expecting.