Fired Up (22 page)

“So what happened to the baby, Dare?” Tina asked. Which at least got them back on a less horrible topic.

Dare tore his eyes away from Glynna and looked down
at his plate. “Wirz put Captain Hunt in better housing, still bad but better. He offered to send Mrs. Hunt home in a prisoner exchange, but she refused to go. Spunky woman.”

“She stayed in her tent,” Vince added, “outside the camp walls until we were freed by the Yankee army.” His grim expression eased just a bit. “Beyond that, we have no idea what became of 'em, but they did survive Andersonville and the war. That's more than a lot of folks.”

“Tough woman, tough little baby,” Jonas said. “I wonder if his folks talk to him about the way he came into the world or if they've just tried to forget it.”

“I hope they don't tell him,” Dare said. “Once you know about something like Andersonville, it changes you. There's not much luck forgetting it, no matter how hard you try.”

Glynna realized right then that Dare would always paint her with that same tarnished brush, mixed in with his memories of stab wounds on his back, the Raiders, and starvation.

“Finish up,” Ruthy said to raise the mood. “I've got pie left to serve. Ladies, can you help me carry it in?”

While the women were out of the room getting pie, Vince jerked his head toward the front door. “After we eat, let's go walk the top of that hill where the avalanche came down.”

“You want to go with us, Paul?” Jonas asked.

Dare was surprised when the boy nodded. “I'll come,” Paul said. “No sense staying here with the women.”

It was the first time Paul had shown any interest in
getting to know the Regulators better. Maybe he was easing off on his hostility toward the men, or maybe their talk over the meal had interested the boy. Dare wondered if the boy had indeed set fire to his house. It might be a good thing to see him on that canyon wall, to see how the boy behaved up there.

So when the meal was done, the men set off.

Dare hung back, watching close. Paul acted uncertain of the direction to take. Either the boy was mighty savvy or he'd never been up top of the canyon before.

Luke knew the way and took the lead. He was followed by Jonas, then Paul and Dare, with Vince bringing up the rear. Minutes later, they reached a level spot on the climb.

Dare said, “Hold up for a bit.”

The trail was narrow, worn out of the side of a rock with high edges on one side. The blustery November wind was blocked here. It'd blow hard once they got to the top, and it wouldn't be a good place to talk. What should he say to this boy? How could he reach him without making things worse?

“Let's take a breather.” Dare sat on a massive rock, which didn't suit him. He never sat still. “The women will want time to visit, so there's no hurry to get back.”

Vince arched a questioning brow at him, then found a man-sized boulder to lean against, his arms crossed.

Luke and Jonas seemed to sense that Dare had more on his mind than just resting.

“Can we get going?” Paul's sullen scowl looked right at home on the kid's face. “You're a bunch of old men if you need a rest already.”

Luke laughed at that. Jonas and Vince both smiled.

“Paul, you heard us mention the Regulators, right?” Dare asked.

Paul seemed startled at the question. His eyes narrowed and he looked suspiciously from one man to the other. “I was at the table with you. You know I heard.”

“In the middle of all that turmoil,” Dare went on, “what we learned was that we had to trust each other.”

Paul sniffed. “Not much room to trust in a war.”

“No, the truth is the exact opposite. In combat you learn to trust your life to the men who fight with you.”

“Not likely any real man would trust his life to someone else.”

Silence descended on the group. Finally, Dare said, “Well, each one of the men here saved my life. We had to trust each other to survive Andersonville. I don't know much about your pa, except I know you weren't overly fond of him.”

“You leave my pa out of this,” Paul seethed.

“And Flint Greer,” Dare said, “was a worthless slice of manhood if ever there was one.”

Paul didn't bother defending Greer.

“You judge all of us”—Dare swept a hand from Luke to Vince to Jonas—“by finding us to be like those two men. You had the devil's own bad luck with the first two fathers in your life. But Luke's wife is best friends with your ma. Tina, Jonas's sister, is almost as good a friend. We're in your life to stay, and you need to trust us. You need to stop thinking every man who comes close is going to hurt you.”

Paul stormed straight at Dare. A hard motion of Dare's
hand stopped the kid. But Paul was fuming, his face red, his fists clenched. “I don't want any man close to Ma. I'm old enough and strong enough to protect her, and that makes me a man. She doesn't need any other.”

“Protecting your family is part of being a man, that's for sure. But there's more to it than that.”

“No, there isn't.”

“But there is,” Luke interrupted. He stood slightly uphill, as he knew the way to the top of the canyon. “For one thing, a man supports his family.” Luke, the prosperous rancher, tucked his thumbs into the front pockets of his breeches.

Paul turned his angry blue eyes on Luke. “I work hard every day.”

“I know you do, son.” Luke walked the few steps to Paul and rested a hand on his back.

“That's not all of it, though,” Vince said. He stood straight and moved a step closer to Paul. “You need to be a leader, something that's hard for a boy with no pa. Your ma runs things, and yet a man has a natural desire to be head of the house. It's a hard place for you to be.”

Dare knew that of all of them, Vince was the best leader. When there was a decision to be made with different ideas about the right path, Dare found himself going along with Vince.

“I can't tell Ma what to do. I've tried, and she won't put up with it.” Paul didn't sound so angry for once, like he knew exactly what Vince was talking about and couldn't see just how to handle his ma.

“And a man needs to be the spiritual head of the family,
Paul.” Jonas said it with such solid conviction that Dare felt his own shoulders square.

His brow furrowed, Paul asked, “What does that mean?”

“You can make sure your ma knows you support her in her faith and that you share it.” Jonas came up on the downhill side of Paul.

Paul looked down at his boots. “I ain't seen much proof of God in my life.”

“Sure you have,” Jonas said with a smile.

Paul looked up sharply, startled.

“You've gone through some hard things,” Jonas went on, “but life has challenges for everyone, no matter who they are. You've come out the other side healthy and whole. God didn't smooth out all the bumps, but He got you through.”

“So that's it?” Paul sounded belligerent, as always. “To be a man I need to work hard, be a leader, and become the spiritual head of the house?”

“You have to
act
.” Tired of sitting, Dare stood and faced Paul directly. If the boy would just see it, he'd realize he was surrounded by men who'd help him and be kind to him and teach him.

“Act?”

Dare nodded. “Being a man is about taking action. A man makes decisions, acts on those decisions, then takes responsibility for his actions. It's a mighty good reason to do the right thing, because you want to stand up tall and be proud of what you've done.” Dare thought of the boy's pa. “You want an example of how to be a man, you watch Luke work his ranch. Or watch Vince step forward when
there's trouble and take the lead. Or watch Jonas practice his faith in God. And watch me take action.”

“I've had enough of others telling me how to live.” Paul practically spit the words.

“Paul,” Dare said carefully, “we're trying to help.”

“You're not trying to help. You're after my ma.”

“Paul, calm down, I—”

“I've seen you with your hands on her.” Paul shoved Dare then, and the kid was strong enough that Dare staggered back against the boulder he'd been using as a chair. “You want her just like every man wants her.” Paul leaned forward, and Dare saw the kid was very close to his height. Fifteen years old. Paul wasn't a kid anymore by a lot of measures.

“I would never hurt your ma. No real man would—that's what we've been trying to tell you. Just because you knew two coyotes—”

“No decent man”—Paul's chest heaved—“puts his hands on a woman like you did with my ma, after she's sworn to me she'd get my blessing first.” His hand clenched close to his pistol. One wrong move, one wrong word, and things could turn deadly.

The moment stretched as Dare waited to see if the boy was going to back down or make things a lot worse. The day this kid started wearing a gun, he had to be treated as an adult in some real serious ways.

“Paul, we mean you no harm. We count your ma as our friend, and any friend of a Regulator earns our protection. We can be trusted not to hurt any of you.” But Dare had already hurt Paul's ma, and the guilt over that twisted now
in his gut. Yet he didn't let it show on his face, because that might be the last straw to drive Paul to some desperate act.

Paul held Dare's gaze. The tension coiled tighter. Dare saw confusion in the boy's eyes. He wanted to trust someone. He wanted help. Caring for his ma and little sister had been too much for him.

Suddenly Paul's hand moved away from the gun and again he shoved Dare, hard, with both hands on Dare's chest. “You stay away from my ma! You come sniffing around her again and I'll show you how a man protects his family.” He whirled and stalked off back down the slope.

The men stood watching as the boy walked away. The kid reached the bottom of the slope, his stride long and fast, propelled by rage. He was heading straight for Luke's house, back to his ma.

They all stared in silence for several long moments. The wind gusted, even in the sheltered spot in which they stood. Then Vince looked at Dare and said with a sly tone, “So you've had your hands on Glynna, huh?”

“That ain't a surprise to none of us,” Luke said.

“Well, I'm surprised.” Jonas frowned at Dare. “Just how much of that kid's anger is justified, Dare?”

“None of it is justified, and you know it,” Vince answered before Dare could. “A man's got his eyes on a woman, it don't mean that kid's got any business making death threats. Dare wouldn't do anything that wasn't honorable.”

That brought on another moment of silence, which saved Dare from having to punch anyone or admit that the way he'd treated Glynna might count as mighty dishonorable.

“I'd still like to know about the part where you had
your hands on Glynna. And don't worry about giving us too many details.” Vince started chuckling.

Before he could decide to start swinging, or admit something that'd make him want to punch himself, Dare turned to the canyon they'd been climbing. “Enough. Now let's go see if that avalanche was man-made.”

“Look at this.” Luke crouched down, pointing to deep gouges in a rock. Raw scrapes showed the bright red of the canyon stone. “Right after the avalanche, before I hauled the rocks out of the pass, I came up here to make sure there were no more loose rocks. I didn't notice this, but at the time I wasn't even thinking about someone starting the avalanche.”

Dare looked around. They were at the highest point. The chill wind gusted, cutting through his heavy buffalo-hide coat and sneaking down his collar.

“It looks like it was pried up by a crowbar.” Luke was the tracker among them. “I've got tools in my barn that could be used to do this.” The wind at the top of the canyon was sharp, and when Luke looked up, his blue eyes were a match for the cold air. This proved the avalanche had been deliberate. Someone had tried to kill Dare. Luke studied the terrain. “Someone did this to you, Dare, and on my property.”

Vince had wandered farther down the length of the cliff top. In a clump of short bluestem grass clinging to the rocky
ground, he reached down and straightened with a length of iron in his hand. “A crowbar like this?”

Luke rose, his eyes riveted on the tool. “That's mine.” His expression hardened. “They didn't just do this on my property—they used my tools.”

Luke grabbed the long, heavy crowbar and turned to look at a copse of mesquite trees bowing and dancing in the wind. “And look at the ropelike branches on this tree.” He strode over to the tree and touched one of the branches. “It wouldn't've taken long to lever up a row of stones, prop them in place with smaller rocks or sticks, string the branches together, and let a woven-together length of them hang down. That kid would've just had to jerk on the dangling branch as he rode through the pass.”

Suddenly the tension swamping Dare eased some. “Well, that lets Paul off the hook. He wouldn't have done this, because Glynna was still in the canyon. To set this avalanche off, he'd've been aiming to kill both of us, or at least not care if both of us got hurt.”

Jonas actually managed a tight smile. “You're right. It can't be the boy. Not much comfort in knowing someone tried to kill you and Glynna, but it's a relief to eliminate the kid from our suspects.”

“Which leaves us with some unknown outlaw who maybe wanted to steal drugs from you, or—”

“Lana Bullard.” Dare thought of how she'd acted yesterday. Mostly not crazy. Not like she hated him. But maybe all that proved was that the woman had a talent for lying. What woman who had to convince men she wanted their attentions in exchange for money didn't have that talent?

“Unless of course these aren't connected,” Jonas said thoughtfully.

“You mean there might be more than one person trying to kill me?” Dare shoved both hands in his pockets. “You know, I really try to be a good person. How come I'm the one with all the scars?”

Vince clapped him on his scarred-up back. “Let's figure on it being one person for now. We'll keep a closer eye on Lana and maybe we can convince her to give Glynna cooking lessons. If she'd take that on, she won't have time to murder you.”

Dare remembered wanting to punch Vince earlier, but just like back then, he settled for rolling his eyes. “Let's get out of this wind. No sense freezing to death and cheating someone out of the fun of killing me.”

They headed back down the trail.

Vince slipped out through his back door and eased around the south end of town. He saw Luke standing guard at the back of the diner. Vince made enough noise that his sharpshooting friend knew he was coming.

“Head on home,” Vince told him.

Luke shuddered. “You know, it's getting too cold to stand watch all night long.”

“Right.” Vince gave a nod. “It's time we find a lookout post inside somewhere. Maybe we could watch from inside the general store.”

“Jonas said to tell you he'd keep coffee on. I'm going to get a cup and take another out to Red Wolf, then get
on home. Reckon you could grab a cup a few times without risking Dare's life, especially now that he's on guard himself.”

Vince nodded again and then settled in. A while later a slight creaking of leather followed by hoofbeats told him that Luke was on his way out of town. Then nothing moved and no one made a sound for a long time before the cold got to him.

Easing from shadow to shadow, he made his way to Jonas's back door and rapped with one knuckle four times. He waited to a count of five, then rapped three times, then waited and rapped four more.

The door swung open, but instead of being greeted by his redheaded friend, Tina stood in the doorway glowing like no woman had a right to. Vince hurried inside and closed the door behind him, even though he didn't think Jonas was awake yet. The house was too silent.

Or maybe being in the presence of the prettiest girl he'd ever seen made it so he couldn't see or hear anything but her.

“Keep your voice down,” Tina whispered as she stepped aside to let Vince pass. “Did you come for coffee?”

That chilly question helped him to start thinking again. “Yes, I'd appreciate it.”

“In the kitchen.”

“Where's Jonas?”

“He's in that room he uses as an office. Some man came to the front door a while ago, upset about something. That's why we're whispering. Jonas is talking with him. I told him I'd keep watch for a few minutes.”

“And he agreed to that? He trusted Dare's life to you?” Vince almost flinched. He hadn't meant to sound quite so doubtful.

“He had no choice, Mr. Yates. His job is to counsel people in trouble, and my aunt Iphigenia always said, ‘Do what is right, come what may.'”

“Your aunt Iphigenia sounds like an old crank.”

“That describes her pretty well. You, of course, did have a choice, and you chose to abandon guarding your friend so you could fetch yourself a cup of coffee.”

And Christina Cahill was a young crank. Vince didn't say that out loud.

“I suggest you get your coffee and then get back to standing watch. I suppose we should be grateful that it's only coffee you're drinking.”

Vince snapped. “That's about the tenth time you've made some ugly reference to me drinking. I'm tired of it, woman.”

“The references,” she asked, “or the drinking?”

Vince took two long strides, realized he was getting ready to start hollering, and stopped. He'd've gone right ahead and started hollering at her, except Jonas was trying to help some poor soul. Whoever it was didn't need to be interrupted by him and Tina fighting outside his office door.

Instead he bent down until his nose almost touched hers and whispered, “We'll talk about this away from Jonas's office.” He grabbed Tina's arm and dragged her into the kitchen—except he didn't drag her, he suddenly realized. She came right along with him, as if she were spoiling for a fight.

He got her into the kitchen, closed the door, and spun her around to face him, never releasing her arm. “I am tired of your snooty—”

“You keep your hands off me.” She wrenched her arm free. “I'm not putting up with the bad manners and unwanted touches of a drunkard.”

“Where did you get the idea I'm a drunkard?”

She made a noise so rude, the top of Vince's head nearly blew off. “Don't waste my time with excuses and lies, Mr. Yates.” Then, raising a forefinger, she jabbed at his chest with great force. Even wearing his coat, she might've gouged deep enough to break the skin. “My aunt Iphigenia always said, ‘A drunkard is like a whiskey bottle, all neck and belly and no head.' And I've no wish to converse with a man who has no head.” Jab, jab.

“Don't quote that old bat to me.”

Tina gasped. “Get your coffee and go.” Another jab.

“Stop poking at me.” Vince shoved her hand aside, and the feisty little thing shoved right back.

Vince grasped her shoulders and she fought against his hold, backing up to the kitchen door. He followed right along.

He saw that pointy finger coming at him again and caught both her wrists in a manacled grip.

“Let go of me.” She twisted in his grasp.

“I haven't had a drink since before the war.”

That stopped her wrestling. “But—”

“And then I drank about one mouthful of gin, once, when I was trying to prove what a man I was. I emptied my stomach on my father's fancy imported rug, and between
the mess and the punishment my father handed out, that swallow was enough to know I wasn't interested.”

Vince noticed that she'd shut up at last. And quit struggling. She still looked skeptical, but why had she thought he was a drinker to begin with? He looked her in the eyes. “You said something about ‘the other morning.' What morning? What did you hear or see that made you think I was drinking?”

“The first morning I arrived in town. You stumbled in the street and fell flat on your face.”

A twist of embarrassment reminded Vince of that moment. So she'd seen him make a fool of himself. Clearing his throat, he said, “I didn't know you'd noticed that.”

“It wasn't the act of a sober man.” Tina arched one of her lovely blond brows, and Vince suddenly realized he was very close to her. Her wrists were firmly caught in his grip still, and he could feel her pulse, feel her life and strength and sass. Most women would've been intimidated, a little scared to be in the hands of a man, alone.

Instead she stood there glaring at him, her eyes—the bluest, brightest things he'd ever seen—flashing with suspicion, still demanding he prove himself. He didn't mean to run his thumbs over the soft underside of her wrists, but his thumbs were there and her pulse made him aware of how alive she was, and it reminded him he was very much alive, too. He was looming over her, and then he loomed closer, and in some place in a man's mind where he didn't really make choices but instead just followed his instincts, his eyes flickered to those rude, pink lips. He couldn't help himself. He leaned even closer, and darned if she didn't, too.

Then she butted him in the face with her head.

Really slammed into him hard. He turned away, feeling to see if his nose was bleeding.

“Why are you blocking the door, Tina?”

Jonas.

She hadn't head-butted him; she'd been shoved into him by her overprotective big brother.

Even with his face half broken, Vince knew to head straight for the steaming coffeepot as if that was what he'd come in there for all along.

It was true.

Vince prided himself on always thinking fast, and he did so now. “Jonas, would you please tell your sister that I'm
not
a drinker? She seems determined to bleat at me about temperance.”

Vince hoped Jonas would see that he and Tina had been wrangling—which they had been, except for right there toward the end.

“If you say you're not a drinker, then I'll take your word,” Tina said. Bless her heart, she had all her sass right handy to slap at him. Music to Vince's ears, since she could have told her brother, a man who knew his way around firearms, that Vince had shoved her up against the door and been about to steal a kiss.

Not that she hadn't seemed inclined to hand that kiss right back, no stealing involved.

“Get your coffee and get back to your post, Vince.” Jonas sounded worried, not mad. “We stirred that youngster up. If he's the one who burned Dare's house down—”

“Which he isn't,” Vince interjected.

“I agree.” Jonas stepped up to fill his cup of coffee, while Vince, not sure whether he had a big old bruise forming on his face or not, turned and headed for the door.

But it struck Vince that Jonas had made a real good point. “If there are several people with a motive to kill poor old Dare, then I suppose it's possible there are several people trying to kill him.” Vince then left the kitchen, not interested in standing still in front of Jonas's eagle eyes.

As he walked out, he heard Tina say, “What's the matter with the doctor that people want to kill him?”