My Foot's in the Stirrup . . . My Pony Won't Stand (Code of the West) (19 page)

“Slow down? I want to speed up. That’s the main trouble with knitting. It takes such a long time. You know what else takes a long time?”

“What?”

“Growing up. It seems like I’ve been ten and three-quarters fo
rever.”

“Some seem to grow up faster than others.” Pepper raised her eyebrows at Angelita.

“I’m not growing nearly fast enough. How come all the good men are either married or too old?”

“What in the world are you talking about?”

“Mr. Andrews is married, and Mr. Lowery is too old.”

“Too old for what?”

“To marry me. What do think I’m talking about?”

“I’m sure there’s some ten-and-three-quarters-year-old boy somewhere who’s planning on owning a gold mine someday.”

“But I’m not going to wait around forever. Which reminds me, you didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?”

“Is Mr. Andrews going to be home tonight?”

“Let’s pray that the Lord brings him home safe.”

“You think God will answer that prayer?”

“He’ll answer, all right.”

“Then Mr. Andrews will be home tonight?”

“Perhaps. But that might not be the answer God gives us.”

Pepper always thought outlaws and lawmen rode horses the same way. Carbine across the lap, straight back, suspicious eyes, no smile, determined gait, hat pulled low, stampede string tight, and topcoat brushed back behind the revolver.

The only difference was that outlaws, going longer b
etween baths, were dirtier.

Usually.

The man who rode the tall sorrel stallion was definitely a lawman. Clean-shaven. Shirt and tie. Hat freshly blocked. Even on a hot, sultry night, he looked crisp and clean.

“Evenin’, ma’am,” he called out from horseback as he tipped his hat toward Pepper and Angelita.

“Good evening,” Pepper replied.

“I’m lookin’ for Tom Slaughter. The office was closed, and a fella pointed me toward your house sayin’ you might know where I could find him.”

“I believe Mr. Slaughter was going out to Nebraska to check on some Texas cows. I have no idea when he’ll be back. Can we help you with anything?”

“No, ma’am. I just need some information about one of your Pine Bluffs residents, and Tom’s the only one I knew in town.”

“Are you a lawman, mister?” Angelita asked.

“Guess that’s kind of hard to disguise. I’m the new U.S. Ma
rshal.”

“Perhaps we can help you,” Pepper suggested.

“It’s not the kind of business to trouble you ladies over.”

“Did someone get murdered?”

“Angelita,” Pepper scolded.

“Actually, yes, ma’am, they did.”

“Who?” Pepper and Angelita echoed the same question.

“A man was shot in the back up in Crook County. I’ve got the a
rrest papers.”

Pepper's stomach cramped as the baby kicked. “Who got shot?”

“A Texas man. Goes by the name of Tracker. Jacob Tracker.”

“Oh my,” Pepper could feel her heart sink.

Angelita walked to the front edge of the porch. “Who are you looking for?”

“I have arrest papers for a Mr. T. Andrews. You two  ha
ppen to know where he lives?”

No. No! Tap wouldn’t .
 . . I just want us to be left alone, Lord.

"
He lives right here, and he never shot anyone in the back in his life. Besides, he’s not home,” Angelita thundered.

“Is that true, ma’am?”

Pepper nodded.

“I don’t know anything about it except we have p
apers signed by Wesley Cabe and Colton Banner that claim they saw Mr. Andrews shoot Tracker in the back. There’ll be an inquiry, and if there’s enough evidence, a fair trial. It would be best for him to give himself up when he comes home. I’ll be over at the Railroad Hotel. If we have to track him down, we will. And chances would be mighty good he could get hurt.”

“You couldn’t take him with a dozen men,” Angelita screamed. “He was a deputy over at Cheyenne City and stopped that whole Del Gatto gang almost single-handed.”

“I’m new in the Territory, so I don’t know about any of that. But I’ll bring him in one way or another. Good day, ma’am.”

Pepper’s hands shook and she knew she was on the verge of cr
ying.

“Mr. Andrews didn’t kill anyone,” Angelita tried to reassure her.

“I’m goin’ to go lie down.” Pepper struggled to her feet.

“Do you want me to go get Mrs. Rosser?”

“No, it’s not time for the baby yet. Can you close up the house for me after a while?”

“Do you want me to stay up and watch for Mr. Andrews?”

“That would be nice. Wake me up if he comes, though I doubt if I can sleep.”

Pepper didn’t bother changing into her nightshirt but she unfa
stened the top four buttons of her dress and stretched on her back in the middle of the bed. She felt very dizzy. Her vision blurred. So she kept her eyes closed. Within a few minutes Angelita tiptoed in and pulled off Pepper’s high-top, lace-up black shoes.

Lord, I don’t think I can take this. I’m worried day and night about losing the baby, and I’m worried about Tap. That’s my whole life. It’s like I get real close to ever
ything I ever wanted in life, and then it slowly gets pulled away. It’s not fair. I just want some peace and quiet . . . and that ranch of Stack’s for Tap to run up in Montana.

I haven’t even had a chance to tell him about that, and now he’s wanted for murder. This can’t be happening. Give me some rest. My heart feels like it’s racing a mile a minute.

She was vaguely aware that Angelita pulled the wooden rocking chair into her room and sat down after mentioning something about it starting to rain. By then Pepper could tell that she had perspired clear through her dress.

The trouble with being happy, I’m scared to death of lo
sing it. At least when I was miserable, things couldn’t get any worse.

The path through the trees narrowed as it ascended. Even though the tall firs and pines blocked most of the sunlight, the trail was lined with such thick brush that Pepper could see very little.

I’ve got to find him. He could be lost. He could be hurt. I’ve just got to find him.

Her long brown dress caught in the brambles, and when she tugged at it, the hem ripped. She stumbled over some fallen branches and twisted her right ankle.

I can’t stop. I’ve got to find him. Why didn’t I wear my shoes?

The mountain grew steeper, and Pepper had to stop often to rest. She stooped over and put her hands on her knees and tried to catch her breath.

“Tap, Do you hear me? Tap, where are you?”

The words bounced off the trees, but there was no reply.

A few yards farther up the trail, she could see a clearing where the sun was shining. Breaking into the little meadow, she again called out, “Tap? Please answer me, Tap.”

A few feet farther up the narrow path, she spied a tall, lone lodg
epole pine in the meadow, standing like an arrow pointed to heaven. At the foot of the tree was a small wooden cross, the white paint cracked and faded.

“No,” she shouted. “No, Lord, no. Oh, please, dear God .
 . . not Tap.” Still a long way from the grave marker, she fell to her knees and began to weep. “I can’t lose him, too. No, no, no.”

She struggled to her feet and staggered toward the marker. Several times she stumbled and fell. Her dress was covered with dirt, her hat fell off, and her long blonde hair flew in the wind.

“Tap,” she sobbed. “Oh, Tap.”

Falling down on her knees in the rocks in front of the grave marker, she wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her dress and shaded them from the bright noonday sun. She squinted to read the faded name on the cross.

Samantha Aimee Paige.

“Mother?” Pepper choked.

The tiny voice of an excited youngster sent chills down her back. “Mama!”

Still on her knees, she spun around. A four-year-old boy ran to her carrying two handfuls of flowers.

“Mama, Look at the pretty flowers,” he squealed.

“Tapadera Andrews, Jr., I’ve been searching all over for you,” she scolded.

“But, Mama, I told you I was going to put flowers on Grandma’s grave. Look, I saved a bunch just for you.”

Laying one handful of purple, blue, orange, and red flo
wers in front of the white wooden cross, he handed her the others. Then he threw his chubby little arms around her neck and began to hug.

“Mama, I love you.”

Pepper began to cry.

And cry.

And cry.

She was sweating.

It was raining outside.

She hugged a pillow.

It was dark.

People were talking in the other room.

Someone was trying to shake her shoulder and wake her up. The voice was deep, strong, loving.

“Darlin’.”

Tap?

Pepper sat straight up in bed and groped about in the dar
kness. A muscular, callused hand slipped gently into hers.

“I’m right here, darlin’.”

“Oh, Tap.” She reached out in the dark and found him, throwing her arms around his neck. “I just had a horrible dream.”

“Again? The one about losing the little boy over the cliff?”

“No, it started terrible but ended wonderful. He was right there. He was okay. He hugged me and gave me flowers. I’m so glad you’re home. Turn on a light. Let me see you. I’ve got to talk to you.”

“Come on out to the living room. We’ve all got to talk. Pull on a robe. We’ve got company.”

“I, eh, still have my dress on. Let me wash my face, and I’ll be right out.”

When she entered the room, Angelita was stoking the woodstove and boiling coffee. The air was hot and humid. Pepper could hear rain bounce off the shake roof. Tap tugged off a soaking wet ducking jacket and visited with a broad-shouldered blond man. A woman sat on the edge of the divan with a blanket around her shoulders, roc
king back and forth.

“What’s going on?” she managed to choke.

“Darlin’, this is Lorenzo Odessa. My old-time friend from Arizona.”

“You mean, all those ‘Odessa-and-me’ stories were true?”

“Most of ’em. I ran across him up at Sundance Mountain, and he’s been helpin’ me out.”

“Who’s the woman?” The lady b
eneath the blanket looked up and stared into Pepper’s eyes.

“Selena! What happened to you, girl?” Pepper swooped across the room and threw her arms around the blanketed woman’s shou
lders and hugged her tenderly. “Oh, honey, you aren’t still working the dance halls, are you?”

Selena rocked back and forth in Pepper’s arms.

“What happened?”

“Selena’s been travelin’ with Colton Banner. He’s the one behind most of the cattle rustlin’ around here. Me and Odessa were trailin’ down that guy, Cabe, when he teams up with Banner. We’re gettin’ a little too close, and he d
ecides it’s Selena’s fault, so he beats her bad and abandons her.”

“Cabe and Banner? Tap, they had papers made out to a
rrest you for murdering Tracker.”

“I know. Angelita told me.”

“What’s this all about?”

“It’s about one thief double-crossin’ another thief, shootin’ him in the back, and then teamin’ up with Banner in order to take over a herd of stolen Texas cattle.”

“I don’t understand.” Pepper realized how sloppy she must look. She released Selena and buttoned up her dress. “What are we going to do?”

“Me and Odessa need to ride out east of town and see if we can locate that Texas herd. Chances are pretty good that Cabe, Banner, and a bunch of them will be headed this way.”

“What will you do if you find them?”

“We’ll stop ’em from takin’ that herd north.”

“But if you kill Cabe and Banner, how will you prove you’re innocent of Tracker’s murder?”

“Justice, darlin’. .
 . . We’ve got to see that justice is done. The Lord will have to take care of me.”

“I don’t want you to do this kind of work anymore,” Pepper pr
otested. “It’s just like you marshaling. I’m sick with worry.”

“Mrs. Andrews,” Odessa broke in, “someone’s got to make them pay for what they did to Miss Selena. Any man who treats a woman like that don’t deserve to live. That’s the code. There ain’t no way we can let them get away with that.”

He’s blond, fair-skinned, but he sounds exactly like Tap. Where did he come from?

“At least you can stay around until your clothes dry and I fix you some supper or breakfast.” Pepper ambled to the stove.

“A cup of coffee is all we have time for. When daylight hits, that marshal will come snoopin’ around again. Where did you say he was stayin’?”