Stuck Together (Trouble in Texas Book #3) (8 page)

Without goading her to say more, Luke turned to Dodger. “I’ve never had a hard-and-fast rule about drinking on the job because I’ve never needed one. No man tries to work cattle while nipping at a bottle.”

Dodger shrugged a shoulder. “No man who wants to live to an old age anyway. A cowpoke needs his wits about him when he’s out dodging hooves and horns.”

Though Dodge sat there exhausted and battered, Ruthy knew he’d be fine. What if he’d been as unsteady as Wilcox? Ruthy knew there was no sense letting an already dangerous job get worse.

“Let’s go talk to the varmint.” Dodger pushed back his chair.

“Reckon he’s asleep by now.” Luke waved at the cup in front of his foreman. “Finish your coffee. We’ll talk with him first thing in the morning, if his head’ll stay on his shoulders.”

“Why wouldn’t his head stay on his shoulders?” Ruthy gasped.

Luke gave her a tight smile. “A drinking man tends to
wake up with a sore head. And the best cure for it, to a drunkard’s way of thinking, is to take another drink. A man can have a heap of trouble getting out of that cycle.”

Turning back to Dodger, Luke went on, “A man unsteady because of drink can put himself, the other cowpokes, and his horse in danger.”

“You sure we shouldn’t go see the coyote now?” Dodger took one long, last swallow of his coffee.

“Let’s wait. If he’s worse for drink, we’ll only be wasting our time. In the morning we’ll have it out with him when he’s sobered up. Maybe it’s time to talk to all the men. Make some rules. Just so no one can say they’re surprised that I frown on drinking hard liquor.”

“I suppose morning would be better. But we’ll make it early, before he starts guzzling again.” Dodger rose from the table, stiffer for having stopped and rested, but he kept moving and that was about all any man could do.

He swung the door open just as a gun fired and a bullet ricocheted off the doorframe just inches from his face.

Dodger dove backward.

Luke launched himself toward Ruthy and dragged her to the floor.

“She’s going to be fine,” Dare whispered as he stepped away from the now-sleeping Virginia Belle. He’d been all afternoon tending her, most of it spent just being kind and letting her rest.

Vince had spent that time talking with Mother, and she’d known he was her son. She’d been moved to tears a few
times, but Vince had stuck it out when he wanted to run. Afraid she’d forget him while he was hiding from salt water.

Now the lantern lights were turned high, and the sun had dipped behind the mesa west of town. Dare rubbed his back as he straightened from his patient.

Vince knew Mother
wasn’t
going to be fine . . . ever. But he would hold this day in his heart. His mother had remembered him.

He’d felt plenty of guilt for leaving home once he’d regained his strength after the war. Mother had needed someone to care for her. But she wasn’t about to let that someone be Vince, not back then. And for him it had been a kind of torture to see Mother tremble at the sight of him.

Father had never been proud of Vince, and Vince had learned to handle that. But Mother could be kind if Vince was very mindful of her feelings. Having her forget who he was crushed him until he could barely breathe in that fancy house in Chicago.

So he’d left, wandered, spent a winter reading law books, and finally ended up here to help Luke Stone get back his ranch. And he’d kept his father aware of where he was if he ever quit drifting long enough to have an address. Then Father would write to him, demanding he return home and assume his responsibilities, and Vince would write back and refuse.

Vince had no confidence that Mother would still remember him when she awoke. He braced himself to accept that.

He turned and saw his little sister had leaned forward where she sat and fallen asleep face-first on the table. “Melissa.”

She jerked upright at the sound of her name.

“You’re exhausted.” Vince was surprised at his reflexive interest in protecting her. The thought that Tina was someone’s little sister skittered through Vince’s head, and he banished it the moment he thought it.

Melissa shook her head as if to clear it. Vince realized she still had on the dusty clothing she’d been wearing when she’d stepped out of the coach hours ago.

Vince hadn’t cleaned up all day, either.

Melissa knew how hard Father must have pushed to get across the country as fast as he had. Mother clearly was all done in. Vince felt much the same.

Father had probably washed up, demanded someone make him a meal, and then gone to sleep. Vince hadn’t seen him since he’d left after visiting Mother hours ago.

“You need to rest, Missy. But first, do you have the energy to tell us more about Mother’s condition?”

Melissa rubbed her eyes. She spoke quietly of Mother’s inability to remember dates and names. Melissa’s voice started out rusty from sleep, but she gained energy as she talked. She told them how Mother sometimes got lost in the house where she’d lived for years. And then Father had built a new house. A mansion so huge it was beyond Melissa’s ability to describe.

“Since we’ve moved, Virginia Belle is always restless. I think it’s because she just can’t remember where she is. I suspect she’s searching for anything familiar, and when she’s slipped out of the house, I think she’s trying to go home.

“Until recently she often had tea with old friends, but ever since the move, she’s far more apt to forget names, and she’s always wandering off. Our father finds that embar
rassing and has more or less confined her to the house.” Melissa’s eyes shifted to Vince. “She asks for you quite often. Father wanted you to come home, and when you wouldn’t, he made a snap decision to hunt you down. We set out very suddenly and pushed as hard as possible, racing to make train connections, hiring fast-moving coaches when no train went the direction we wanted.”

“Father doesn’t make snap decisions,” Vince said. “He plots. He decides every move in advance.” For some reason, when Vince said that, he got a chill up his spine. He wasn’t sure why, and he didn’t have time to think more about it now.

“I think he must have been planning to come and see you for a while. Has he known you were living here for long?”

“Long enough.” Vince frowned as he imagined Father getting things in order, then picking his moment to leave.

“All the horses were ready at every stop. Things went too smoothly to be arranged at the last moment, even with money smoothing the way. But I think he was still hoping to get you home. He must have either given up or decided he had a better chance of ordering you home if you met face-to-face.”

“I exchanged telegraphs with him on my trip to New Orleans. I made it clear I wasn’t coming home. That must’ve been the final straw that set Father’s plans into motion.”

“We need to let your mother sleep awhile.” Dare began cleaning up his supplies from the bedside table. “Then you can get her to the boardinghouse, Vince. Your father’s probably all settled in by now. I need to run over to the livery. Sledge cut his arm last week and it’s time for me to take out the stitches. I was on my way there when your
folks climbed off that carriage. I forgot all about it until now.”

“Go ahead.” Vince waved Dare off. “I’ll be here.”

Melissa said, “There should be two of us. I’ve learned the hard way that just because she’s sleeping isn’t reason enough to stop our caretaking. One person can’t watch the front and back door all the time. One person has to take occasional breaks, and trouble can happen in an instant. We had two people with her at home at all times.”

Vince looked at the dark circles under Melissa’s eyes. “You’re all in from the trip, Melissa. I’ll be all right with her for a while, if Dare hurries back.”

Melissa said uncertainly, “You look tired yourself.”

Vince remembered the shape he’d been in when he rode into town. He was just as bad now, just as dirty and exhausted and hungry. Only more so because the day had passed and the sun was now setting.

At that moment the door to Dare’s doctor’s office swung open, and Tina came in carrying a tray that smelled wonderful. A red-and-white-checked cloth covered what looked like heaped plates. His stomach growled, and he had his hands full not grabbing the tray away from her.

Dare smiled at her. “Just what we needed. Can you stay with Vince for a little while? Melissa needs rest, and I need to run and check on Sledge’s stitches.”

Tina’s smile faltered, and she gave Vince a quick glance that reminded him of what had happened the last time they were alone together. But Tina couldn’t very well explain that she didn’t want to be alone with Vince for fear he’d kiss her.

“Of course I’ll stay. I left Jonas eating and have noth
ing to hurry back for. Melissa, I brought a plate of food for you.”

“I’ll take it to the boardinghouse with me. I’m afraid the moment my stomach isn’t poking at me to remind me to eat, I’ll fall asleep where I sit. Best to be near a bed then.”

“Your room’s at the top of the boardinghouse steps, the room farthest to the left. Livvy’s already asleep in there. Paul got her some food. Mr. Yates has the corner room, and he’s gone to bed for the night. I knocked on his door to offer him a meal, though he did stop by the diner earlier and ate. He didn’t answer. I’m sure he was exhausted, too.” Tina added the last part doubtfully. No one could fail to notice how completely unconcerned Father was about his injured wife. Now he was sleeping and no doubt clean and well fed while everyone else hovered at Mother’s bedside.

“Thanks, Tina.” Dare rolled his sleeves down. “I’ll walk you over to the boardinghouse, Melissa.”

Melissa shrugged into her woolen coat and took the plate with a smile of gratitude.

Dare grabbed the doorknob, then paused. “I won’t be long. If your ma keeps sleeping, Glynna and I can watch over her through the night. I haven’t seen Glynna for hours. Heaven only knows where she’s gotten to.”

“She spent the afternoon and early evening with the children, working on their lessons in the room above the diner, and now she’s feeding the prisoner.” Tina set the rest of the food on the table, where Melissa had been napping.

Dare froze, his eyes wide.

“I cooked,” Tina added quickly.

Vince blew out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure exactly where cruel and unusual punishment kicked in, but
Glynna’s cooking might come real close. He’d hate for Lana to get out of jail on a technicality.

“I cooked food for you all and the prisoners and Jonas.” For a moment Tina looked disgruntled, and why not? She was feeding the whole town and she wasn’t even making wages at the diner, not since it closed at noon.

“We still don’t know what to do about Lana.” Tina had a fussy expression, the one that tended to make her grab a picket sign.

“I don’t think we can talk about it now without disturbing Vince’s ma.” Dare frowned at his patient. “Then I’ll be back with Glynna and the youngsters to take over.”

Vince wanted to add, We’re going to have to spell each other forever. Because Mother’s problem wasn’t going to go away and somehow they were going to have to find two people available at all times to watch over her.

Dare held the door, and Melissa left, carrying her dinner plate.

Once the door closed, Vince turned to Tina and they stared at each other.

All Vince could think of was that unfortunate moment they’d shared earlier at the jailhouse. After all that had gone on today, that was a plumb stupid thing to be remembering.

And yet . . .

Vince wanted to run. He even took a step back. Tina could handle this for a while.

He’d go clean up, change his clothes, read a book.

Maybe he could guard the front door by standing outside. True, it was cold, but cold might be just the thing.

If Tina was to guard the back door, she could go stand in the kitchen.

With him outside and her in the kitchen, they wouldn’t even have to see each other.

Mother stirred.

Vince thought of the windows she could climb out.

He wasn’t going anywhere.

For now, he and Tina were stuck together.

Luke threw his body between Ruthy and flying lead. Someone unloaded what sounded like a Winchester rifle into the south side of his cabin. His thinking got very fast, and the world seemed to move at a fraction of its usual speed.

He dragged Ruthy to the floor, twisted so he didn’t land all his weight on his little wife, or crush his child, and laid out his body to block a bullet.

With nearly the same motion he kicked the door shut. Three more bullets slammed into it.

“Get in the closet, Ruthy. Now!” He felt her leave. But they’d talked about what to do in a time of danger. He knew his Ruthy. She was a savvy woman and didn’t waste one second asking to stay. He knew she preferred to face a fight. But he also knew she understood that if Luke knew she was safe, he could concentrate on the danger. And she wasn’t just going to cower in that space beneath the closet floor. She had a gun tucked in there, so she could fight if she had to.

That same shelter was where Glynna Greer had hid from her husband to make him think she’d run off. It had sent Greer riding after his wife and given Ruthy a chance to
sneak Glynna out while Luke was busy fighting Greer and his henchmen. The shelter had been built by Luke’s pa, and Glynna had only found out about it because Luke had passed her a note through Dodger telling her to hide, hoping Greer didn’t know about the secret trapdoor.

Now Ruthy was gone, down those steps to safety, going through the trapdoor that locked solid from inside. But Ruthy was tough. She’d have a gun in her hand, make sure it was loaded, then be back up those steps. Ready for trouble, ready to duck underground if need be. And smart enough not to be in the way while Luke had a fight on his hands.

He thanked God for this woman as he crawled along on his elbows to his Colt. Two more shots slammed into the thick log door. Pa had built this house to withstand just this sort of trouble.

Luke drew the pistol from where he hung his gun belt every night, right inside the back door.

Then silence.

He looked over to see Dodger crouched low, his gun leveled.

There was another blast of gunfire, but it was aimed in a different direction and came from a different sort of gun. He recognized an old Sharps fifty caliber and knew it belonged to Marty, a young cowpoke who was a steady hand. Marty carried his pa’s old gun and wouldn’t part with it. It was the only Sharps on the ranch.

Marty’s gun quit firing. Luke crawled to the lantern hanging by the cookstove and snuffed it. The kitchen now cloaked in darkness, he went to the door and stood to the side of it. Dodger jumped up, went to the other side and
flattened his back to the wall. They looked at each other, both with their guns drawn and pointing straight up.

“Ready?” Luke said to Dodger as he reached for the door handle.

Dodger nodded.

Luke eased the door open and waited.

Dodger stepped around it and let it swing all the way to the wall.

“Whoever it was is gone now, boss,” Marty called.

Luke trusted the young man, but even trustworthy men could be wrong. “Stay back, Marty. Dodger and I are coming out, and I don’t want you in the line of fire.”

“Five of us came out of the bunkhouse. We heard the shots, and I just heard someone running off on foot. We’re ready for you, boss. Come on out.”

Luke swung out the door and dropped behind a watering trough next to his hitching post.

No one took a shot. Dodger’s running feet were the only sound as the old-timer went in the opposite direction of Luke, to spread the gunfire. Luke could hear Dodger round the side of the house and stop.

Then there was nothing but a gusting wind and the hoot of an owl stirred up by the ruckus.

Slowly Luke straightened.

Gun in hand, he listened, let his eyes adjust to moonlight and waited until he was certain whoever had done the shooting had for sure gone.

“All right, he’s taken off.” Luke made certain his men knew exactly where he was before he came out from cover and strode for those who’d come out of the bunkhouse and took positions with their firearms.

“Did anyone see him?” Luke took a quick count. Everyone was here. Including Quince Wilcox, the man Ruthy had seen drunk earlier. He looked pretty steady now, though Luke couldn’t tell for sure in the moonlight.

Luke felt a twist of indecision. He’d intended to fire the man first thing in the morning. He didn’t like a drunkard working for him, and he was sure Ruthy had been upset by the encounter and was making light of it to keep the man from losing his job.

But now with the shooting, he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t keep a lot of hired men around after the spring roundup, and he was already shorthanded. And it looked like he needed to start posting a stronger night watch.

“Did anyone see anything? Get a look at who was shooting?”

“I did, boss,” Wilcox said.

Luke felt his tension rise. He didn’t like the idea of accepting the word of a man who’d been drinking. It’d been several hours ago, though, assuming the polecat had quit drinking when Ruthy had seen him and hadn’t been pulling a cork the whole night.

“You got a look at the man who shot at the house?”

“Yep, one man, alone and on foot, unless he had his horse tied up away from the ranch. I didn’t get a good enough look to pick out the man, but I did see one important detail.”

“What did you see?”

Wilcox gave Luke a long look that had a mean edge to it. “You ain’t gonna like it.”

Luke didn’t respond. Wilcox looked to savor the moment, enjoyed that he was the center of attention. The
silence stretched, and Luke fought back the urge to shake the answer out of Wilcox.

Finally, sounding smug, Wilcox said, “I saw him well enough to know he was an Indian. One of those Kiowa you’re so fond of. Might’ve even been the one you let come around here from time to time, Red Wolf. And the way he was swinging that rifle, then running, unsteady-like, I’d say he was drunk.”

“You eat now, Vince.” Tina hurried to Mrs. Yates’s bedside. The woman had shifted and moaned. Her eyes flickered open. Blue eyes, but so light blue in this light they were almost gray, nothing like the warm brown of Vince’s.

The lack of resemblance seemed wrong. Why had Vince and Melissa taken after their father so completely?

Tina looked nothing like Jonas, her brother. How did God work it all out? How was it arranged who to hand down the hair color and eye color, the height and even the personality traits to?

Vince ate silently while Tina pondered these things. She kept her gaze fixed on Mrs. Yates to stop herself from looking at Vince.

Finally he finished his meal and came over to his ma’s bedside across from Tina.

“That was mighty good, Tina. I appreciate you taking care of us.”

Tina couldn’t be so rude as to not look at him when he complimented her, so she gave him a quick glance and a smile. “You’re welcome. I was glad to do it.”

Mrs. Yates’s eyes had closed as Tina watched over her,
and she settled into a sound sleep, which was a shame, considering Tina was stuck in here alone with Vince. Mrs. Yates needing attention would be a nice distraction.

Tina had to come up with a way to spend time with Vince and yet stay far away from him. Then she thought of a few questions she’d been harboring that he wouldn’t want to answer. In fact, they’d annoy him something fierce. All the better to keep him on his side of his mother.

Besides, she was dying to know what was going on. Watching him closely as he stood staring at his mother’s still form, she said, “I couldn’t figure out why you rode off like that, to New Orleans, over Lana Bullard.”

Vince’s eyes lifted until they locked on Tina’s. His dark eyes shifted from concern while he’d watched his mother to blazing lightning now. Oh yes, she’d annoyed him, all right. That gave her the courage to go on, despite his forbidding expression.

“It wasn’t Lana you were worried about, was it? When I asked Dare if there was some kind of treatment for people who are . . . are . . .”

“Mad?” Vince suggested with sleet in his voice. “Insane? Lunatics?”

“Impaired,” Tina said. She’d jumped at that word when it came to her. “You thought if there was a treatment for Lana, it might work for your mother.”

Silence stretched between them. Tina wondered if he’d toss her outside and take over watching his mother himself.

“What makes you so stubborn about protecting Lana?” Vince’s voice was quiet, smooth, but carried a harsh warning. “I have to wonder if there isn’t someone in your life who reminds you of her.”

“No, there’s no one like that in my family, but I was taught by my aunt Iphigenia that a woman needs to know how to—”

“Take care of herself. Yes, I know. You say it about twice a day.”

“So it seems like there should be a way for a woman to overcome whatever’s wrong with Lana. But you’re changing the subject. You’re looking for a cure for your mother’s . . . confusion, aren’t you? Has she always been like this?”

“My life before Broken Wheel is none of your concern.” Vince turned from the bed and went to the front door. She half expected him to walk out. Instead he turned, leaned his back against the door, and crossed his arms. Sentry position. Vince did dearly love to stand guard.

Tina decided she’d ask him about that next. “It’s clear you love your mother, just as it’s clear your father isn’t a kind man. I heard she mistook you for your father at first. That must hurt.”

“I’ve been around my mother and father enough not to let them get my feelings ruffled.” Vince settled in. His voice smoothed out, and he was fully in control of himself. Which was exactly what Tina didn’t want.

“Then if it doesn’t hurt your feelings, why not talk about it?” This had started because Tina very deliberately wanted to be a pest. But with her question and his reaction, she realized she really could hurt him. It had been a mistake to bring up his trouble with his parents.

“Listen, Miss One Woman Picket Line, my mother was confused when I went home to heal up after the war.”

“Heal up? You mean you were wounded?”

“I was never wounded. All my troubles were as a result of
the terrible conditions at Andersonville. I was half starved. No, truth be told, it was more like three-fourths starved. I was down to skin and bones. I was ailing from every disease in that place except the ones that killed quick. I just plain needed a place to lie down, eat right, get a doctor’s care for a while and regain my strength. I stayed at home as long as I could stand it.”

“Did your mother mistake you for your father back then?”

Shaking his head, Vince said, “She thought I was a stranger. She’d get upset every time she saw me in the house. I ended up hiding from her as much as I could because she acted like I was there to harm her. I stayed mostly to my rooms. The servants brought food. The doctor stopped in. I learned Mother’s routine and could avoid her, but every so often she’d run into me and there’d be trouble.”

“Trouble?”

Tina saw his jaw working as he gritted his teeth and looked into the middle distance, as if he were seeing the past. “As soon as I could get around, I took to leaving the house all day. I should’ve just found someplace else to live, but I needed to rest. I needed steady meals. I needed home.” Vince shook his head. “Those are excuses. I was weak and I let myself depend on my father. He got it in his head I was back to stay, even though I told him I didn’t want any part of the banking business.”

Tina decided Vince was more comfortable complaining about his father than talking about his mother. She wasn’t going to let him get away with changing the subject. “So your mother was showing signs of confusion back then? Or has she always been like this?”

“This was new. She’d always been . . .” Vince’s voice broke. He lapsed into silence and looked at his mother.

Tina also looked at Virginia Belle, an aging Sleeping Beauty. A lovely, fragile Southern belle who’d probably always given her care over to others. But she’d never needed it as much as now.

Then Vince gave his head a hard shake and glared at Tina. She could see that he preferred anger to sadness, and all these memories were enough to make a grown man cry. And for all her resolve to stay away from him, Tina found her feet carrying her to stand facing him.