Texas Lonesome (29 page)

“
P
a.” The faint word was said on a gush of fear.

Dustin recognized the man riding next to her father as Jock Calhoun Jr. from the run-ins he’d had with Sidney’s brother at the stockyards over the years.

Sidney tried to pull away but he held her hand tight in the crook of his elbow, unwilling to let her pretend things that weren’t. Better to get the shock over as soon as possible.

The fact he was taking his girl out for supper in his hometown where he had nothing to fear meant Dustin hadn’t worn his gun. Seeing the two armed men approach, Dustin felt as naked as a newborn babe.

“McCutcheon.” The word was something dirty in the younger Calhoun’s mouth. His father’s narrow-eyed glare had Sidney trembling.

“Gentlemen,” Dustin said, angry at the way they’d already dismissed Sidney. She’d been through hell, and they couldn’t care less. These two men would be his in-laws. The fact he missed his .45 Colt while addressing them hit a humorous pinched-tight nerve, and he actually smiled.

“Something funny?” Jock Jr. asked. His face hadn’t lost its scowl.

The streets were quiet, most everyone having gone inside for the night. Stanton Drake, the telegraph operator, heading in the direction of the saloon, watched from the other side of the street.

“Thought that was you, Sidney,” Jock Calhoun said. “But when I recognized McCutcheon, I imagined I was seeing things.”

“Pa, why didn’t you let me know you were coming?” she asked, her free hand reaching out toward him. “How are you? Does your side hurt?”

Sidney’s voice held a breathless quality he’d not heard before. He didn’t like to think she was frightened of anything. Her concern for her father was evident.

“Maybe I wanted to see what my only daughter was up to. Now I know.”

“She told you what she was doing here in Rio Wells,” Dustin stated flatly before Sidney could answer. “I was right there when she sent the telegram. She’s watching out for Noah. Keeping him in line.”

Sidney’s brother chuckled mirthlessly. “Is
that
what you call
this
?” He gestured to her hand held firmly under Dustin’s. “I might say different.”

Again, Sidney tried to pull her arm away, but Dustin wouldn’t let her. He just stared back into the Calhouns’ heated faces.

Damn.
He didn’t want to get into a fight, but Jock Jr. really set his teeth on edge. All the years of fistfights came rushing back. For Sidney’s sake, he needed to work this out with words. Just like Winston had tried for years—but failed.

Stanton Drake still watched from across the street, probably having picked up on the tone.

“Where’s Noah?” Sidney’s pa asked, stretching up in his saddle the best he could as he looked down the street.

“At the Rim Rock,” Dustin replied. “Where he’s been ordered to stay by a judge. We don’t have any say over that.” He forced a smile—for Sidney. “You must be hungry. Why don’t you stable your horses at the livery, and I’ll buy you supper in the hotel restaurant.” He squeezed Sidney’s hand. “If you hurry, we’ll make it before the dining room closes.”

Jock Jr. laughed. “We’d rather go hungry than eat with vermin like you. We’re loyal to our own.” He pinned Sidney with a stare. “At least, some of us are.”

“You have no call to speak to Dustin like that!” Sidney retorted, and Dustin felt the change in her body when anger replaced her fear. “I won’t have you calling names and being ugly. The McCutcheons have been kind and charitable—all of them.”

“Arguing won’t get us anywhere,” Dustin said. “Just so you know, Sidney and I are getting married on Saturday.” Taking the bull by the horns felt great. “You’ve shown up at an opportune time . . .”
May as well drive the fact home.
“. . . to give your daughter away.”

Sidney gasped and cut her gaze to his face.

Both men sat straighter, angrily looking between themselves.

“That ain’t going to—”

“It is!” Dustin said abruptly, cutting him off. He glanced down at Sidney, hoping he wouldn’t see censure in her eyes for assuming Saturday would be fine with her. “Sidney, you and I are collecting your things at the hotel so I can take you out to the ranch. Tonight.”

He hoped she wouldn’t refuse. He trusted these two as much as he did the Comancheros who had abducted his cousin Charity months ago. He didn’t want to wake up and find Sidney gone.

She gently squeezed the crook of his arm. “I’ll be fine here in Rio Wells, Dustin. Especially now that my father has arrived. I need to see them both settled and talk this out.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Please, go home. The situation will be easier that way. Don’t worry; I’m not going anywhere without you. You think they could take me against my will?”

Her tone was stiff. He didn’t dare push too hard and have everything backfire.
Sure they could, sweetheart, if they really wanted to.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night for supper,” she said. “Just like we planned. And if you still want me then, I’ll bring my belongings along as well.”

He looked at the men. “You two staying at the hotel?”

“Where else?”

T
he time was almost five o’clock in the morning when Dustin finally dragged himself back to the ranch. After he’d seen Sidney to her room and stayed around while her father and brother checked in, he’d collected his horse from Cradle. But he remained across the street, out of sight in the alley, making sure his in-laws-to-be didn’t try something underhanded.

Once back home, he bedded down his animal himself, still too keyed up to sleep. He avoided the early-morning activity in the bunkhouse and entered the house quietly. A lamp burned in his father’s office. Before he had a chance to move in that direction, he spotted his father coming out to meet him.

“Thought I heard you coming in.”

Dustin only nodded. He could see the conjecture in his father’s eyes. Thought he’d been with Sidney all night, and that bothered him.

“Have a minute to talk?” his pa asked.

Talk was the last thing he felt like, but he and his father were walking a thin line. Dustin didn’t want to make matters worse.

“Sure. I’m not getting any sleep now.”

In the office, Dustin dropped onto the sofa and scrubbed a hand across his whiskered chin. A nagging in his gut said he shouldn’t have left town. As soon as he bathed, shaved, and grabbed a bite to eat, he’d head straight back.

His father watched him get comfortable before asking, “Things going all right?”

“They were until Jock and Sidney’s oldest brother showed up in Rio Wells last night.”

Winston lowered the coffee mug he’d just picked up without taking a drink. “Just what I feared. Backed into a corner, there’s no telling what those two will do. Did you speak with them?”

He nodded.

“Tell them your plans with Miss Calhoun?”

He nodded again. “Her name’s Sidney.”

A few moments passed before his pa spoke. Something strange was behind his eyes, a look Dustin had never seen before.

“Maybe it’s for the best they show up now, Dustin. A union between you and Sidney would only bring her heartbreak. Have you thought about that? They’re a proud family, much like us. If you gave her up now, she could find someone else. She’s beautiful. And smart. A woman like her wouldn’t have any trouble in the least.”

Even though Dustin had expected as much, he stilled, his father’s words cutting him to the core. Had he been wrong? Would his family never accept her?

“I can’t believe you just said that. Sidney and I are getting married on Saturday. I hope you’ll stomach the idea long enough to come and give us your blessing.”

His father stared back, unmoved. “Think long and hard. Some obstacles are too wide to jump, son. You’re taking on more than you can handle.”

Unable to listen another moment, Dustin surged to his feet, intent on leaving before he said something he’d regret. He loved his father and respected him. He couldn’t understand why the man wouldn’t soften on this issue.

A clamoring at the front door brought them around, and Switchback burst into the room.

“Fire in Rio Wells!” he shouted. “At the Knutsons’.” That was all he said before the cook rushed out the door.

“Where’s Noah Calhoun?” his pa called out.

“Don’t know, boss,” came the man’s reply.

Dustin bolted past Switchback, saddled up, and galloped away, not waiting for anyone.

When Dustin arrived in town, Knutson’s barn was engulfed in flames—along with John’s good efforts.

A line of men passed buckets from several water pumps along the street. Halfway down the block, Billy Burger leaned on a crutch as he worked the iron handle with his massive arms, sending water gushing from a spigot. Bucket-toting men crowded around.

Spotting John at the forefront, Dustin pushed through the throng of men. Blistering heat licked his face as the orange-yellow flames crackled and popped. He grasped John’s shoulder.

“Have you seen Sidney?” he yelled.

“No,” John yelled back.

“What about Lily?”

“She’s home, where I told her to stay and keep watch from the second-story window! I don’t want her to be caught unprepared in case the fire spreads.”

Cradle ran forward and pitched a bucket of water onto the fire, the action followed by a loud hiss. The man next to John hefted him a full bucket, and John did the same. Half the structure was gone, and Dustin figured they were trying to keep the flames contained. Joining together, the men worked endlessly until the fuel had been consumed and the last flame burned out.

The exhausted men stared motionless at the enormous black pile of rubble on the ground that an hour earlier had been Mr. Knutson’s barn and the McCutcheon, Noble, McCutcheon venture. Chaim was shoulder to shoulder with Stanton Drake, Doc Bixby, Colin Jorgensen, and even the disgraced ex-mayor Fred Billingsworth. Their clothes were blackened and wet. All the ranch hands from the Rim Rock were there, as well as most of the men Dustin knew.

Winston stood with a group of ranchers, black soot covering his pinched face. He caught Dustin’s gaze and started his way. When he neared, he gave his son an angry jerk of his head, and Dustin followed him to the outer shadows where they wouldn’t be overheard. Dustin couldn’t ever remember seeing him so angry.

“Was this Noah Calhoun’s doing?”

Noah’s absence in the bunkhouse had been going through Dustin’s head the whole time he’d been pitching the water buckets. Had he stopped being vigilant because of Calhoun’s cooperation, only to be duped?

“What about Sidney’s father and brother?”

Anger and frustration made him want to cuss. “Don’t know.”

“Well, you
better
know. Rio Wells could have burned to the ground. Innocent folks could have died!”

His chin jerked up. “They didn’t.”

“And
thank God
for that!” Winston barked, his furious tone scorching Dustin. “You better find out where Noah is! Let’s not forget, if he’s done this, the blame is on
your
head! Not by my account, but Judge Halford. I don’t like this one bit.”

“I’m headed to the sheriff’s office now,” Dustin replied. “I don’t see Miller anywhere here.”

“I’ll go with you.”

They left the large crowd behind. When they turned onto a nearly deserted Spring Street, the quickest route to the sheriff’s office on Main, Dustin saw Sidney running in his direction, her face a storm of confusion. Everyone else was at the site of the fire.

“You’re safe!” she cried, the first thing out of her lips.

She was still in Rio Wells!

Dustin tried to embrace her, thankful his fears hadn’t been fulfilled, but she pulled away. A few feet behind came her father and brother.

His gut tightened. Dustin glanced at his pa, dreading the trouble he felt coming. Surely, all the old hate-filled accusations would start flying once again.

Instead, his father strode right up to Jock Calhoun and threw a punch, sending the man to the ground. Shock reverberated through Dustin as Sidney screeched and ran to her father’s side.

Jock Jr. rushed Dustin, but Dustin stepped away and shoved him to the ground.

“We’re not fighting today,” he said through clenched teeth as Sidney’s brother picked himself up and slunk to his father’s other side. Something told Dustin this would be about his father and Sidney’s pa.

“I warned you!” Winston barked at Jock, both hands fisted at his sides. “If you ever set foot in my town, there would be hell to pay. I’ve put up with your lies and deceits everywhere else, but I won’t here. Not for one second!”

“He’s crippled,” Sidney cried, helping her father to his feet.

The man wobbled as he wiped a trickle of blood oozing from the side of his mouth.

“How can you hit a defenseless man?” she cried, holding tight to her father’s arm.

“Defenseless?” Winston choked out. “Ha! Crippled? That might be, but I’m sure not as bad as he wants you to think.” He paced back and forth like a caged mountain lion.

All the years melted away until Dustin saw his father as a young man, the man he remembered when the ambush had happened. Dustin had been eight or nine. He recalled certain parts of that disturbing time in their history.

Winston glanced at him and then looked long and hard at Sidney, standing guard at her father’s side. Hatless, he raked his hand through sweat-soaked hair, turned to the older Calhoun, and glared.

“I’ve come to a decision, you sorry son of a—” He shook his head. “Don’t know if it’s the right one or not, but at this point after all these years, I’m not sure if I care anymore. All I know is I don’t want
my
son blaming me for his unhappiness! I’ve carried your secret for as long as I intend to. Jock Calhoun, bare your soul to your children. If you don’t, then I will!”

Sidney’s father practically shrank before Dustin’s eyes. This was not the bully he remembered.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, McCutcheon. Probably more of your—”

Winston took a menacing step toward Jock, and he straightened.

“What’s he yammerin’ about now, Pa?” Jock Jr. asked. “Don’t let him push you around. I can take ’em both.”

Dustin didn’t care what Jock Jr. said. Sidney was all he could see. He understood why she’d looked so confused and sad when she’d run up to him; her dear father had been filling her head full of lies, uncertainties, and guilt all night long. Poor thing looked exhausted.

She avoided his gaze and kept hers on Winston, looking young and scared.

Winston glared at Jock. “It’s amazing how the lines between truth and lies wavered as the years pass, eh, Jock? One thing you can always count on. Truth will always come out. It bides its time, waiting for the precise moment to set things right.” He jabbed a finger in Jock’s direction. “Now’s the time, Jock. Start talking.”

Scowling, Jock just stared.

A few people going home on Spring Street stopped to see what the problem was.

“Move along, folks,” Winston told them. “This is personal.”

Jock stumbled a few steps back.

“Fine. Don’t say you weren’t warned.” Winston looked at Dustin, then Jock Jr. and finally at Sidney. “All those years ago, your father paid to have me bushwhacked. Things went sour somehow. I don’t know. It’s ironic, in a way.”

“What?” Dustin couldn’t believe his ears. If his father had known all along, why had he let Calhoun sully the McCutcheon name? That didn’t make any sense. His face grew hot at all the fights and slander he’d endured. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Why, you ask?” Winston said, now staring at the ground. Seemed all the anger and hate seeped out of his pa right before his eyes.

Morning was here, and the sun was just now peeking over the rooftops. The soft light silhouetted his father, making his face hard to read.

“Why?” he said again, as if asking himself the question. “Because of her”—he pointed to Sidney—“and her brothers. Winnie and I knew Jock and Sidney’s mother. We didn’t see them often, because their ranch was a ways from ours.” A ghost of a smile played across his face as he stared at Sidney. “She was just a little ragamuffin of a thing running after her brothers. Cute as a bug’s ear. Did I want to see her lose her pa? Did I want to be the one to break her heart? No!”

Winston stopped talking for a moment and stared at the ground. “Once I saw what was brewing between the two of you these past few days, I knew the truth was fated to come out. But if I could stop the devastation, if I could keep you two apart, I would try—for her. I did try. I did. But destiny won’t be cheated.”

He sucked in a lungful of air. “And I kept silent because of him,” he said, pointing at Jock Jr. “He’s a handsome lad. Reminds me of my own sons.”

He thumped his chest with his fist, and his face twisted in agony. “Did I want to be the one to tell him his father is a liar and a cheat? Possibly a murderer as well, if his intentions had been carried out? No! I knew I could handle a few verbal attacks. And I figured my sons, with their wide, strong shoulders, could do the same. As long as what they were saying wasn’t true, no one could hurt my family. People who know us would never believe such a thing about the McCutcheon name.”

“I never meant to kill you,” Jock wheezed. “I was perfectly clear, I only wanted you detained until you’d be too late to make the bid for the cattle contract. But that was all. Your ranch was already twice the size of mine. I was wrong . . .”