Devils on Horseback: Nate (11 page)

He headed downstairs and left the key on the front counter. “Much obliged.” He nodded to the desk clerk. “Room three.”

The hotel conveniently enough had a restaurant attached to it. He was able to walk right through a doorway and into the dining area. He sat at a small empty table and tried his best to look as if he wasn’t worried to death. His stomach cramped and he forced himself to breathe in and out slowly.

Those few precious minutes allowed him to seize control of the runaway panic that constantly threatened him. The waitress appeared, probably no older than Elisa. An average-looking young woman with curly brown hair and brown eyes, she likely didn’t worry too much about being murdered in her bed or having her cattle rustled.

The pang of missing Elisa hit him straight in the gut. How he could miss her in such a short period of time was a mystery. This waitress didn’t even resemble Elisa, yet here was Nate acting like a lovesick idiot.

“Good mornin’, sir.” Dammit to hell, she even had an Irish accent. Another reminder of the Taggert family.

“Good morning,” he forced out. “Coffee please with two biscuits and jam.” He didn’t think his stomach would be able to handle anything more complicated than that.

“Right away, sir.”

As she moved off to fulfill his breakfast order, Nate fingered the copy of the bill of sale that he kept in his coat pocket. Hell he’d even slept with it under the pillow, just in case. He didn’t put it past O’Shea to have Nate followed. He’d checked as he traveled and didn’t see anyone. That didn’t mean anything other than if someone was tracking him, he had very good tracking skills.

Nate’s breakfast arrived within minutes. He ate the biscuits and drank the coffee without tasting anything, but it was enough to satisfy his body. Now he could get on to what he really wanted to do—get to the hall of records.

As he paid for the food, Nate asked the waitress, “Do you know what time it is?”

“Oh, it’s just past eight. I know that because Nonny, the man who brings by the milk, just left and he always gets here right before eight.”

“Thank you. I hope you have a wonderful day.”

A sweet shade of pink spread across her cheeks and Nate realized the young girl assumed he’d been flirting with her. She needn’t have worried. His mind and body could only focus on one woman.

Nate walked to the livery where he’d stabled Bonne Chance. After removing his folio, he secured his saddlebags with his tack. Every successful businessman had a folio, but didn’t carry around his traveling bags. By the time he arrived at the hall of records, it had to be nearly eight-thirty.

He hoped it was open. When he saw a man exiting the building, he breathed an inner sigh of relief. If someone was leaving, it meant Nate could finally get what he came for. He entered the building and found the records room without a problem.

The person working behind the counter was an older man with graying hair, wiry sideburns, droopy eyes and a clean but wrinkled brown suit. He sat on a stool stamping documents. Several piles in various heights were arranged around him.

Nate sized him up and formulated his battle plan to achieve his goal. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small paper bag of horehound candy. Smiling, he set down his folio with the candy sitting on top.

“Good morning, sir.”

“What? Oh, yes, yes, good morning. Are you sure you’re in the right place, young man?” The impatience in his voice matched the annoyance in his eyes.

Nate glanced around. “If this is the hall of records, then I’m definitely in the right place.” He held out his hand. “Nathaniel Marchand of D.H. Enterprises.”

The older man eyed the outstretched hand for a moment or two before shaking it briefly. In that short interval, Nate determined that at some point in time, this man had done manual labor. Calluses upon calluses graced his palm. Obviously someone who was intelligent, learned and wasn’t afraid to do hard work. Perfect.

“William. William Baker.”

“Mr. Baker, I’m here on behalf of my client, Mr. Samuel O’Shea. Perhaps you’ve heard of him.”

A small nod.

“We’re looking to put a particular piece of property up for sale. The former owners of this property have been, shall I say, difficult in giving up said property. Mr. O’Shea wants to be sure the correct paperwork has been filed in the hall of records for the county.” Nate’s palms started sweating as the lies rolled off his tongue.

He gazed behind Mr. Baker and saw stacks upon stacks of cabinets and boxes in another room. He hoped like hell they were more organized than they looked.

“So what is it you need?”

“Well, several items actually. I’m wondering if they’re filed under the parcel or by date?”

“There’s this ledger over here. That’s the information recorded by date when a sale happens. Back behind me”—he gestured with his head—“everything in there is filed by the town name and then the parcel.”

Nate had hoped that was the case. This time his smile was genuine. “Do you think it would be possible for me to attain copies of the bill of sale, possibly the deed or any other type of papers you might have with regard to this parcel?”

Please, please, please.

Mr. Baker’s eyebrows rose. “You sound like a lawyer.”

Nate laughed. “No, sir, I’m not. Someday I hope to be though.”

“I’d say you’ve got a good start, young man. I’ve got a heap of work to be done today. I can’t be digging around looking for papers. You’ll have to come back tomorrow. It’s almost the end of the month, you know, and everything has to be done by then.”

Nate felt his chance to get everything done today slipping through his fingers. He closed his fists and held on tight. “Would it be possible for me to look through the parcel records for the town? I assure you I will not touch nor read anything that is inappropriate. All I would need from you is the location of the records for the town of Grayton. From there I would be happy to look for the records I need.”

Mr. Baker rubbed his chin with his right hand, smearing just a bit of ink on his skin. Nate decided against telling him about it.

“I suppose that would be all right. Let me just finish this stack right here and then we’ll go in the back.”

“And the copies of the documents? Will that be possible? I would be more than happy to assist.” He sounded like an eager puppy to his own ears. He’d gone too far this time. Nate could almost feel Mr. Baker pulling away.

Mr. Baker glanced at Nate’s hands that bore ink stains and calluses as did his own. “We’ll see what we can do. I think you’re putting the cart before the horse. After you spend time shifting through the papers and the dust, then we’ll see about copies.”

“Thank you, Mr. Baker. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your assistance.”

“You should save that for your sweetheart. There’s no need to be charming me.”

Nate decided he liked Mr. Baker a lot. He sat down to wait for the older man to finish going through his papers.

Chapter Ten

Surprisingly, the back room that had looked so chaotic was actually in order. After Mr. Baker showed Nate where the records for Grayton were kept, he came across what he was looking for within two hours.

In fact, he found more than he was looking for. The deed, the bill of sale and more, including Melissa Taggert’s will. The will contained information that might destroy Elisa, at best it would devastate her. Nate took meticulous notes in case he wasn’t able to obtain copies, but really, most of it was burned in his head.

Elisa had been telling the truth. The bill of sale was not signed by Melissa. The will had the same handwriting that he had seen in the journal. The deed was only in Sean Taggert’s name, therefore the sale was illegal on two counts. It hadn’t been signed by Melissa, and she had no legal right to sell the property. That rendered the sale moot.

A double blow. Mr. O’Shea would not be happy.

The question was, what would Nate do with all the information? He rubbed one dusty hand down his face, then sneezed.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Mr. Baker appeared in the doorway.

“Yes, sir, I did.” Unfortunately or fortunately, it was found.

“You’re putting everything back in the correct order?”

“Yes, sir. I made sure I marked the place where I extracted the documents so I could put them back appropriately.” Nate felt like a schoolboy being lectured by his teacher.

“Excellent. I had a feeling you were the type of man who would do that. Now for those copies. I have a cousin two streets over who owns a printing press. In a couple of hours, you could have your copies, then bring them back here and I could stamp them as official.” Mr. Baker rocked back on his heels, a self-satisfied grin on his wrinkled face. “For your boss, right?”

Nate told himself not to react to the lie. “Yes, sir, for my employer. I can’t thank you enough. You’ve been very kind.”

“I’m guessing you’re a man who keeps things private so I’m not going to ask any more questions. In any case, you’re welcome. Always happy to help.”

Although Nate had expected the older man to be as difficult and curmudgeonly as he appeared, he was pleased to know that he’d been wrong. He looked again at the documents in his hand, and hoped that Elisa was as strong as she acted. She’d need to be.

By the time Nate left Bellridge, it was late afternoon. He had the copies and everything he needed. So why did he feel so empty? Probably because the simple task of removing a small family from a ranch had turned into a life-changing experience that Nate had not yet accepted.

So many dirty dealings, so much lying and deceit in one small town, it didn’t bode well for the rest of Texas. It was too much. He’d survived the war only to fall victim to the greedy nature of man all over again. His mind whirled like a top as he rode, so many things crowded in his brain. Only one thing rested on his heart.

Elisa.

He rode the last five miles without even remembering that he’d done it. When the familiar outcropping of rock that marked the Taggert ranch came into view, Nate knew he’d already decided not to see Gideon first. He had to see Elisa.

As she sat on her horse, Elisa’s thoughts wavered between a smattering of hope that they might not be alone in their fight, to the nasty demon of doubt. Watching the herd wasn’t too hard so she really had nothing to do and too much time to think. About Nate, about being with him, touching him, loving him. That was getting her nowhere but hot under her clothes so after an hour, she took to singing to the cows. They seemed to enjoy her rendition of “Barbara Allen” and lowed in return. Good thing about cattle, they didn’t judge a person like folks did.

“You have a lovely voice,” a man said from behind her.

Elisa’s instincts kicked into gear and she whirled, pistol in hand ready to fire on whoever invaded her land. Nate threw his arms up.

“Darlin’, it’s me.”

Her heart leapt at the sight, which was something she hadn’t expected. In fact, her entire body reacted as if she’d been thrust into a fire pit. Trying to control the urge to gallop toward him, she scanned the tree line behind him for anything unusual.

By the time he walked to her horse, she’d grabbed hold of her runaway lust, at least enough that she could speak. Her traitorous nipples though hardened to the point of pain.

“Elisa.” His voice coated her with its honey sweetness.

“Frenchie.”

He smiled and she nearly smiled in return, but the haunted look in his eyes stopped her. “What’s wrong?”

“You need to come with me, darlin’, back to my camp. I’ve something I need to tell the Devils and you.” His weighty words gave her pause.

“What is it? Did you find what you were looking for? Tell me.” Her horse shied beneath her and she realized she’d been squeezing him with her knees.

“Not here. Please, come with me.”

“But Da, he’s finally on a horse. Look.” She pointed at a distant figure on a horse on the other side of the herd. “He got on there this morning and insisted on coming out.” This time she couldn’t hold back the grin.

“Will he be all right alone?”

“Alone? You really want to leave now?”

He sighed hard and long. “Yes, Elisa. Now. I’ve already wasted an entire day. We’re running out of time.”

Elisa didn’t scare easily, however she had a feeling whatever he wanted to tell her wasn’t good.

“Why can’t you tell me now?”

“I owe Gideon and the rest of my friends, and you, an explanation. I’d rather not do it twice. Please.”

Elisa’s heart thumped almost painfully. She had the overwhelming urge to kiss him until neither one of them could catch their breath. “Okay, let me just tell Da.”

He nodded. “I’ll wait here. I don’t think he’s going to want to see me.”

She dropped a quick kiss on his lips before galloping off toward her father. Da’s green eyes regarded her steadily. Just seeing him on the back of a horse still made her throat tight.

“Da, I need to leave for a little while.”

“Is that him?” He gestured to Nate waiting at the crest of the hill.

“Him who?”

“Don’t play foolish games with me, Elisa girl. Is that your man?”

Elisa gazed at Nate, sitting on the horse straight and tall. A sense of pride and something she suspected as the first beat of love raced through her. “Yes, Da, that’s my man.”

“I know I haven’t helped with the herd much since I’ve been home. I’ll stay here and keep watch.” He cleared his throat. “You’d best do what you need to.”

“Thank you, Da.” She leaned over and kissed his weathered cheek. “I’m glad to see you on your horse again.”

“Get on with ya.”

Elisa wheeled her horse around and set off toward Nate. She only hoped whatever news he had didn’t destroy the spark of life she’d found by just being with him.

* * * * *

They rode back to Nate’s camp in silence. Elisa’s anxiety grew as they got closer. Not only was there impending bad news, but his friends would not be happy to see her. Especially since she’d humiliated them in a trap and shot one of them. It wouldn’t exactly make them friendly.

“Don’t worry, they understand about protecting your own.”

She snorted. “Not likely.”

“You shouldn’t underestimate them. They might be a bit, ah, angry, but once I explain things, everything will be all right.” Nate sounded sure of himself.

Elisa wasn’t as confident. “I won’t make you promise that’s true.”

He shook his head. “I think I’m beginning to understand you, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. Darlin’.

All of these terms of endearment made her squirm. Elisa wasn’t sure what she wanted from Nate, other than the amazing sex. The thought of having more with him, as in a marriage, made her squirm even more.

The one good thing about trying
not
to think about Nate and their relationship, the time passed quickly. Before she knew it, they arrived at the camp. Four angry faces greeted them. Elisa hadn’t had a chance to see any of them up close before. The rest of the Devils were a mishmash of colors and looks, but they were all tall and packing weapons. They were definitely a formidable group.

“Why the fuck did you bring her here?” the one-armed blond asked with a sneer that would make butter boil.

“Lee, let’s be a little more gracious,” the one with curly brown hair admonished, although his gaze wasn’t too friendly. Then she noticed the bandaged shoulder. He must be Gideon.

“Like hell I will.” Lee pointed at her. “That bitch shot you and got us all tangled up in that honey shit. I ain’t gonna be polite.”

“Well I for one have to admire her.” The redhead smirked. “Not too many men have been able to get the better of us. Now this little bit of woman did it.”

“Step lightly, Jake,” the other blond one said through gritted teeth. “She didn’t get the better of us.”

“Oh, I disagree. Did you see how tangled—”

“That’s enough. All of you.” Nate dismounted and held up his arms to Elisa. “She’s here as my guest and y’all will demonstrate that famous southern gallantry. Elisa was protecting her own.”

The four men stopped grumbling and instead stared at her with a mixture of distrust, suspicion and downright murder. Elisa forced herself not to squirm under their gazes.

“Why did you bring her here?” Gideon asked.

“I found what I was looking for in Bellridge, and more. We all need to hear it together.” Nate glanced at Elisa and she saw a flash of empathy in his eyes.

“Fine. Let’s sit down and talk then, but don’t expect us to open our arms and be her friends.” Gideon gestured to the various logs and rocks around the fire pit.

They sat down, with the four men facing her like a jury. Nate sat close beside her on a log. She was grateful for his support.

“Elisa, this is Gideon Blackwood, Jake Sheridan, Zeke Blackwood and Lee Blackwood. Everyone, this is Elisa Taggert.” Nate made proper introductions, which felt a bit ludicrous. However, every man tipped his hat to her, almost as if it were ingrained in their systems.

“Tell us what you found.” Gideon appeared used to giving orders.

Nate apparently was used to hearing them. He pulled a sheaf of papers from his jacket pocket. “I found a number of papers filed with the county with regard to the Taggerts and their ranch. The first one was the deed, which is in Sean Taggert’s name only. Then I found the bill of sale for the ranch signed by Melissa Taggert, although she had no legal right to do so.”

“Her husband could have been missing in the war. Perhaps she thought he was dead,” Jake offered.

“No, it wasn’t even her who signed it. I found a number of other papers with her signature, and after viewing her journal, I can confirm that Melissa Taggert did not sign that bill of sale.” He handed the deed and bill of sale to Elisa.

Elisa took them with hands on the verge of trembling. She couldn’t focus on the words too well so she took Nate’s word for it.

“What else did you find?” Gideon’s expression had changed from distrust to interest.

“Melissa Taggert’s will, a marriage certificate and birth certificates for Elisa and her brother.” Nate didn’t hand her those papers.

She had a feeling whatever was in those papers, she didn’t want to know about. However that didn’t stop her. “What’s in them?” Elisa demanded in a cracked voice.

He sighed and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Nate shuffled the papers and held up the first one. “The marriage certificate is pretty straightforward, from October 1845. No surprises there.” He held up another piece of paper. “Daniel’s birth certificate from February 1851.”

The third piece of paper rose slowly. “Elisa’s birth certificate from July 1845.” He set it on her lap and she stared at it.

July 1845
.

The date rang like an out of tune bell. “What? I wasn’t born in 1845. I was born in 1846.”

The birth certificate beckoned her, daring her to prove Nate wrong. She swallowed hard and picked up the paper by the corners. There in plain sight was July 1845.

Impossible. Absolutely impossible. That meant she was born before her parents got married. She could not ever imagine her mother…and yet Elisa herself had had sex before marriage. Nate had even mentioned the possibility of a child, and she’d ignored him. Perhaps her mother had done the same thing, and yet her parents had been married three months after Elisa was born.

That was unlikely. No unmarried pregnant woman waited until the baby was born to tie the knot.

“Read it.”

“I am reading it,” she snapped.

“No, darlin’, read it.” He pointed to the top of the paper.

Elisa pushed his hand away. “Fine. I’m reading.”

Elisa Marie Grayton

Female, born July 15, 1845

Grayton, Texas

Father: Samuel Adam O’Shea

Mother: Melissa Mae Grayton

Registered this day July 31, 1845

By Samuel Cook, Registrar

Oh dear God. Her vision grayed and she swayed toward the ground. Nate’s strong hands stopped her from falling. Her stomach rebelled violently. She twisted around and vomited behind the log until there was nothing left inside her but spit and tears.

“Jesus, what does that birth certificate say?” she heard one of them ask.

“Something mighty bad by the look of her.”

“Shut up, everybody. Give her a minute,” Nate snapped.

Everything was wrong. Her entire world had just shattered around her and she could barely get enough breath in to survive. She wanted to howl and rant like a madwoman. She wanted to go shoot Samuel O’Shea through his black heart.

Her father. Samuel O’Shea.

Spawn of the devil, daughter of Satan! She wasn’t even a Taggert anymore. Her stomach heaved again and Nate kept rubbing her back and whispering nonsense words. After a few minutes, the urge to vomit passed and she wiped her mouth on her sleeve. Only through iron will did she keep the tears inside. No way in hell she’d let Nate’s friends see her bawl like a baby after they’d seen her throw up like that.

“Elisa,” Nate whispered in her ear, “I’m sorry, honey. I wanted to tell you but I knew you wouldn’t believe me without proof. I’m so sorry.”