Mary Connealy (56 page)

Except, for the first time, he wasn’t going to marry her for a different reason than the one he’d had before—that reason being a fear and disgust for the two women he’d run afoul of. No. He wasn’t going to marry her because
he
was worthless. He was penniless, and he had run like a coward from two ranches. He had to make something of himself before he could tangle himself up with a woman as fine as Belle.

To go into a marriage without a way to support a wife was dishonorable. Oh, he knew he could make a place for himself at Belle’s, but even if he worked the land hard, it would never be his.

The Tanner Ranch. In Divide, that’s what they called it. Not a single name of one of her husbands had stuck. He could move in and claim his place and set the holding to rights and make Belle’s life easier, but none of it would ever be his.

He knew as he thought it all through that he was making excuses. The idea of being sucked into Belle’s all-girl household reminded him too much of the way he’d been raised, surrounded by women. It had been smothering. He’d escaped that life at the earliest possible moment, and he couldn’t willingly sign up for another hitch of it.

He thought of Emma’s toughness. Lindsay’s quiet confidence. Sarah’s homey mothering. Betsy’s silent watchfulness. Sure he liked them. Not wanting to be the only rooster at a hen party didn’t mean he thought there was anything wrong with the girls. As a matter of fact, he’d gladly thrash anyone who said there was anything wrong with his girls. But that didn’t mean he wanted to buy into their brood.

He caught a handful of mane on his own horse and jumped onto its back. He set out to circle the herd and take stock. He was ready to face the Tanner women again, but just to be on the safe side—what with the way Lindsay handled a gun and all—he started his inspection in the direction that led him directly away from them.

Silas didn’t return to camp until close to noon. The cattle were fine, munching away on a fair stand of native grass and young pine boughs.

He ran into Emma once and noticed she must have bathed in the creek, because he could see her instead of dirt. She was out doing her own inspection. She nodded to him without saying much, but normally she’d have come up and talked to him for a minute, so he wondered what had gone on back in camp.

His inspection led him near the camp, and he was debating whether to face the Tanner women or starve to death. He was having a hard time picking.

Then three riders came over the top of the draw they’d punched the cattle over yesterday.

Silas headed for camp and got there while the riders were still a half mile away, winding down the steep trail. He watched them from a distance, and although they looked like average cowpokes, he didn’t trust anyone around his women.

He was swinging off his horse when he realized he thought of Belle and her girls as his. He was lucky he didn’t fall all the way to the ground. He might have if there’d been time. For now, he stepped over to Belle. She’d cleaned up in the creek and was all sweet-smelling and pink along with the girls and was now busy spreading a batch of washing on bushes near their camp. This wasn’t the usual batch of diapers they did every night. This was a full washing.

He grabbed Belle’s arm to get her attention. “I’m going to say you’re my wife. I don’t want these men to think you’re an unmarried woman. Let me deal with them. Go along with me.”

Belle looked shocked at his suggestion. “Silas, I’m not going to—”

“Just do it.” Silas talked over top of her then stepped quickly over to Lindsay who was peeling spuds along with Sarah.

Belle went on protesting, but he ignored her. “Lindsay!”

Lindsay turned to him, her eyes narrow. So she’d heard what went on between Silas and Belle this morning, too. Well, he didn’t have time to talk about that now.

“I want you girls to call me Pa while these men are around.”

Startled, Lindsay exchanged a look with Sarah. Then the two of them looked over their shoulders at the approaching men. They’d all noticed the strangers and were wary. But Silas’s order surprised them.

“Sure, Pa.” Lindsay shook her head and grinned. “That’s a good idea. I’ve been trying to get the potatoes peeled before I went for my gun.” Lindsay was a practical girl.

Silas admired that. “You too, Sarah.”

“Silas,” Belle scolded. “We are not going to lie to—”

“Put a few more potatoes in the pot. If they’re just passing through we’ll let them sit up to a meal.”

Sarah giggled. “Glad to help, Pa.”

Betsy was tied onto Lindsay’s back. She waved her arms at Silas and said gleefully, “Papa.”

Silas bit back a grin at Betsy. He’d have laughed out loud at the little imp if he hadn’t been in such a hurry.

“Now, Silas …” Belle caught his arm.

“Wait just a second, Belle.” Silas patted her arm and kept giving the girls orders. “Lindsay, ride out and tell Emma so she doesn’t come busting into camp and give us away. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with these men. But it’s best to keep a careful eye at first. And even if they’re decent men…well, men are notional critters when there are beautiful women to hand. So, I want you especially to ride careful around them. Don’t ever be out of my sight while they’re here. I may try and hire them to help with the herd if they measure up. If they do, you’ll have to keep calling me Pa until they leave.”

Lindsay’s chin lifted, and her eyes shone as she asked breathlessly, “You think I’m a beautiful woman?” She stuttered and shook her head and looked at the ground in embarrassment. “Or, no, you’re talking about Ma.”

“You’re as pretty a little thing as any man has ever set eyes on,” Silas said in pure disgust. “And I don’t want those men thinking you don’t have a pa around to fill them full of buckshot if they so much as look at you sideways! And it ain’t a compliment, Lindsay. Being pretty can be a blasted nuisance. Ask your ma.”

“You do.” Lindsay looked back at Silas, her face glowing with pleasure. “You think I’m pretty. You think Ma’s pretty, too.”

Silas could have sworn Lindsay grew about two inches right there in front of him. She stood up taller. A different expression was on her face than he’d ever seen before. She squared her shoulders. “I’ll find Emma and let her know what’s going on.” She lifted Betsy out of her carrier. “Sarah, you take Betsy.”

“I’ve got her.” Silas took the baby without thinking about it. He was too worried about what ideas he’d just planted in Lindsay’s head. “Lindsay, I won’t have you making any sheep’s eyes at these
hombres.
Don’t go gettin’ ideas.”

“I won’t, Pa,” Lindsay said fervently. “You can count on me to behave myself.” She turned and walked quickly toward the closest horse.

The men were drawing nearer, so Silas hissed after her, “I don’t want you riding out any farther than where I can see you. And get Emma back to camp, too. And your name’s Harden, every one of you.”

Lindsay hung a bridle on the horse and jumped on it bareback. “Harden. Yes, Pa. I’ll tell Emma her name. We’ll both be careful…Pa.” She kicked the horse and rode toward Emma, who was way down the hill but clearly visible.

“Hello, the camp,” the men called out, pulling to a stop from a decent distance. Silas felt better knowing these men were wise in the ways of approaching a cow herd.

“Silas,” Belle said quietly enough the men couldn’t hear her, “I’ve handled men many a time. I don’t need you to pretend—”

“You mind me woman”—Silas spun around and jabbed a finger right at her nose—“or I’ll tan your backside right in front of these cowpokes.”

Belle opened her mouth, but no words came out, which suited Silas right down to the ground.

“You want me to take the baby, Pa?” Sarah asked.

Silas hoisted Betsy up against his chest, barely noticing he held her. “She’s fine. Get on with your chores.”

“Yes, Pa.”

“Silas—” Belle started in yapping.

Silas turned on her and saw pure spitfire in her eyes. Well, there wasn’t time to palaver about it. She’d just have to do as she was told by her husband the way the good Lord intended. “If these girls call me Pa and you Ma but you say we aren’t married, what kind of loose woman does that make you?”

Belle gasped.

“What are those men going to think?”

Silas closed her mouth by giving her a sound kiss. He pulled away and said in a voice that brooked no objection, “You’re Belle Harden. Don’t forget it no matter how many last names you’ve had before.”

Then the men rode up and Silas turned to them with one of his arms around Belle and Betsy perched on his shoulder.

The very image of a happy family man.

T
hat coffee smells mighty good, ma’am.” The middle-aged man, riding between an old grizzled cowpoke and a boy, did the talking, and Silas pegged him for the leader of the group. “I’m Buck, and this is my son, Roy, and my saddle partner, Shorty.”

Their gear was clean and neatly packed, and their horses looked well cared for. The men themselves looked a little rough, but riding a long trail would do that. Silas didn’t like that they’d addressed his wife before asking his permission. Still, a woman was a wonderful thing, and the men were probably so fascinated by Belle that they could barely remember Silas was there.

“You’re welcome to join—”

Silas dug his hand into her waist and squeezed so hard she quit talking. “Get back to the meal, woman. These men aren’t here to talk no hen talk.” Which was probably wrong. These men would no doubt welcome hen talk—or anything else Belle suggested—just to hear the sound of her voice.

Belle looked at him, and Silas wondered if she hadn’t just left burn marks on his skin with the fire in her eyes. He grinned and eased up the grip on her waist then caressed her stomach with a little circular motion of his thumb. She looked confused for a second. Then she turned to help Sarah with the noon meal.

Obedient. Belle Tanner…Harden, he amended…was obeying him.

Silas could have wrestled a grizzly bear he felt so powerful. “And take this young’un off my hands,” Silas added gruffly.

Belle turned back and took Betsy without speaking a word.

Silas wondered if it was because his behavior had left “his little woman” speechless. The thought almost made him smile. More likely she was too busy plotting his slow, painful death to talk.

Silas looked back at the men. They’d ridden closer but still waited a respectful distance, which spoke well of them. “Light and sit. No one ever walked away from the Harden campfire hungry.”

He watched every move they made, conscious of how close a gun hand got to a trigger and whether he saw something behind the eyes of any of the men that made him uneasy. Silas had been down the river and back more than a time or two. He’d seen every kind of low-down trash the earth had to offer in the men who came to see his ma and her friends. He’d seen fine, hardworking, honest men who dressed in rags and smelled worse than their horses. He’d seen well-dressed, prosperous men with eyes like snakes and hearts dripping with filth. He’d ridden hard miles and dug a living out of a hard country, and he trusted his judgment when it came to sizing up a man.

The riders settled into the camp, resting against a fallen log one of the girls must have dragged in while he was busy kissing the daylights out of Belle. They introduced themselves, as did Silas sitting across from them on the other side of the fire. He never mentioned Belle’s or Sarah’s names.

Belle served coffee, careful to stay a healthy arm’s length away from the men. Then she removed herself from the circle as quickly as possible. She was acting for all the world like a proper, demure, and obedient wife.

Silas wondered when she’d learned to fake that.

“We’ve been riding with Wade Sawyer.” Buck held the coffee cup cradled in two hands like he needed to warm himself. Silas held his the same way. So did every experienced cowhand in cold country. “He said you’d asked him to help with the drive. We were Tom Linscott’s line camp, just passing through, when Sawyer delivered supplies. He said maybe you needed more hands. He didn’t make any promises about hiring us. We understand that, and we’ll ride on if you say the word.”

Silas had no idea who Wade Sawyer was. He didn’t mention that.

Belle came up beside him and actually wrung her hands a bit as if she were afraid of displeasing him, when what she was probably really thinking was she’d like to wring his neck.

Who’d’a guessed the little woman was an actress?

“Remember, I told you I saw Wade at the diner, just after you left? I told him we were shorthanded, but he had already hired on to deliver Linscott’s supplies. He said he’d ride out this way if he made good time.”

She had talked about asking others in town to ride herd. Maybe she’d mentioned Wade in passing. Silas couldn’t be sure, but he appreciated his little woman filling in the gaps. He looked at Buck. “So why isn’t he with you?”

“The strangest thing,” Buck said. “There was a white woman dressed in Indian clothes running from …”

The men talked openly as men did who weren’t on the dodge.

After they’d finished their tale of Glowing Sun, Silas noticed they all said their pleases and thank yous as if it came straight from their heart when Belle poured more coffee. Silas didn’t doubt that they were sincere. Coffee being poured from the soft hand of a pretty woman was mighty rare in the wilderness.

With coffee refilled, Buck went on. “We were riding out from the goldfields near Helena.”

Buck eased back as if settling in for his storytelling. “The mines played out a decade ago, but dreamers still came and tried to hammer wealth out of the tightfisted ground. Us among ’em. Roy was just a boy then.”

Buck wove that tale with Shorty chiming in—a man of few words, but the ones he spoke were worth hearing.

Silas liked the look of them. He wanted to tell them they were hired but decided to wait until Lindsay and Emma came back to camp. He needed to see how they acted when they saw “his girls.” The boy drank his coffee quickly and asked for more before Belle offered. He kept looking at Betsy like he was hungry for the sight of a baby.