Dawn was breaking as Matty crept through the woods just south of the Pooles’ soddy.
He stopped on a twig and it cracked loudly. He muttered under his breath. If someone was out here, surely they would’ve heard that.
He’d woken from a light doze, his back against the barn, and smelled woodsmoke. Nothing had been stirring in the dugout—Catherine and Pop must’ve still been sleeping—so he’d begun a slow, quiet circuit around the perimeter of the property.
He hadn’t been sleeping much out-of-doors and his thoughts were slow to clear, but one question kept bumping loudly around his head. If someone were spying, why would they start a fire that could get them discovered?
He had no proof that the person snooping around three nights ago had been Ralph Chesterton. He had his suspicions, but he couldn’t take action unless he caught the man actively threatening Catherine.
And as he healed, he had less and less time to keep watch.
A murmur of voices had Matty ducking behind a tree. That sounded like two men, speaking in low tones. He slipped his revolver out of its holster, though he kept it pointed at the ground—for now.
He didn’t want to think about what the recoil would do to his collarbone if he had to fire the weapon.
He edged slightly around the tree, trying to get a glimpse of what and who he was up against. Two horses. Was that…?
Matty squinted in the growing light. That looked like his brother Seb’s horse. And behind the palomino… Edgar’s head rose above the horse’s flank from where he’d been crouched between the two animals. He caught sight of Matty and dropped the horse’s hoof from where he’d been examining it.
“What are you doing here?” Matty asked, holstering his weapon and moving out from behind the tree.
Edgar’s face brightened. Seb’s head came up from where he squatted beside a small campfire.
“Looking for you.” Edgar rounded the horse toward Matty. “You look like something the cat would’ve left on the doorstep. Why didn’t you send word where you were?”
“Your horse came home without you the day after you’d ridden out,” Seb added. “Ma’s been worried sick.” He stood.
“It’s complicated. I—” Matty’s words cut off in a grunt of pain when Edgar embraced him enthusiastically.
Edgar let go immediately. “What’s wrong?”
“You hurt?” Seb echoed as he joined them near the horses.
“Collarbone. Probably broken.”
“Can you ride?”
Matty shook his head in the negative. “The Pooles have been putting me up. As long as I watch my movements, I can get around.”
“Who?” Seb asked. “Never heard of `em.”
The horses stamped and swished their tails, reading the human excitement.
“They’re a family homesteading out here. They…don’t get to town much. How’d you find me, anyway?”
Seb shifted his feet, his excitement palatable. “We’ve been riding from house to house, asking folks if they’d seen you and searching every little copse and ravine. The Sheriff didn’t think you’d have made it this far out from town. We’ve spent all week on your trail.”
“Until yesterday,” Edgar said. “Floyd Chesterton rode out to tell us he’d seen you.”
Chesterton. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, but Matty felt a surge of unease. Had Ralph’s brother purposely gone to see Matty’s family? Suspicion flared anew. Once Matty returned home, there would be no one to watch over Catherine.
He moved to squat next to the fire, his brothers joining him there. Accepted a cup of his brother’s sludgy coffee. Breathed in the scent that reminded him of home.
He wasn’t ashamed that his eyes stung a little.
“What’s going on?” Seb asked.
Matty took off his hat, ran a hand through his hair. “Three days ago, I would’ve been thrilled to see you—would’ve sent you home to fetch a wagon.”
“But not today,” Edgar surmised.
Matty shook his head. “Catherine’s neighbor has been making untoward advances…enough that she’s shook up about it.”
“Catherine?” the brothers echoed unanimously.
Heat flared in Matty’s face, and it wasn’t from being so close to the campfire. “Catherine Poole. She lives out here with her granddad, basically runs the whole place herself.”
Edgar and Seb shared a glance.
“A woman?”
The heat in Matty’s face intensified.
“Someone threatening her?” Seb bristled, and Matty had never been so appreciative of his brothers’ protective natures toward womenfolk.
“She barely admitted to it, but a few days ago, I came upon Ralph Chesterton and it sure sounded like he was threatening her. Then someone was out in the barn later that night, made some noise and woke up the household.”
“You sure it wasn’t an animal?” Edgar asked skeptically.
Matty leveled a glance at him. “Once I started looking, it was hard to miss the perimeter someone has worn in the grass. That’s not an animal.”
“What’s he want?”
“She says he’s after the land. She’s got a nice creek; it’d make a nice watering hole if he’s of a mind to raise cattle. There might also be a stockpile of grain, though she hasn’t told me outright about that. Not much else of value around the place.” Unless you counted Catherine herself. Thinking about someone targeting Catherine in particular twisted a fist in Matty’s gut.
His brothers were silent for a long moment. Seb sifted through the coals with a long, slender stick.
“I’m guessing you don’t want us to rush home and bring the wagon,” Edgar finally said.
Matty rubbed a hand up the back of his neck. “I can’t just leave her here without protection.”
“What about the granddad?” Edgar asked.
“I can stay with ya. I’ve got my bedroll,” Seb said before Matty could answer. Matty read the excitement in his brother’s sparkling eyes and the roll of his shoulders.
But Matty shook his head. “You know I’d love to have you at my side, but Catherine’s grandpop has some… Well, he’s getting up in years and he sorta has this… Memory lapse. Makes him real wary of strangers. And doesn’t make him much for protecting the place, either,” Matty said with a nod to let Edgar know he hadn’t just ignored his question.
Matty let his eyes slide to the horizon. He couldn’t forget Catherine’s sweet singing voice yesterday morning, or the pang of attraction that kept rearing its head between them.
In addition to the possible danger for Catherine and Pop, he also couldn’t forget the question that kept bumping around inside his head. If he left now, when would he see Catherine again?
Somehow he knew that if he left now, the tentative friendship building between him and Catherine would be over.
He’d go back to his life working with the sheriff and working the family ranch. If he had a hankering to see Catherine, it would be an entire day's trip to ride out here and back, just for a short visit. If he could count on seeing her at Sunday worship or other social events like the town picnic, deepening their friendship wouldn’t seem so daunting…
He needed more time for more than one reason.
“I need a few more days,” he said. “Can you go home and tell Ma and Pa that I’m all right, that I’ll be home when I can?”
Seb scattered ashes, disappointment obvious in his frown. And Edgar held Matty’s gaze long enough to make him uncomfortable. Could his brother see just how much he needed to make sure Catherine was taken care of?
He couldn’t explain the need. It didn’t make sense for him to be so attached to her, not when he couldn’t read her well enough to know if she wanted his friendship or wished he’d leave. But the attachment was there. He couldn’t walk away, not when she needed someone on her side.
“I don’t know how long we can put off Ma,” Edgar said. “Doubt she’ll go another week without getting out here to see for herself that you’re all right. And the sheriff’s been real concerned, too. He sent out riders that first day, but lotta folks been needed in town to see to the repairs. If you don’t show up at the ranch by Sunday, we’ll come back for ya.”
Matty nodded. It would have to do.
Six days to figure a way to keep her safe from Chesterton. Six days to get her to open up about what valuables she might have hidden on the place, in case that’s what Chesterton was after—though Matty doubted it.
Six days to get her to open up to him, to find out if she felt anything more for him than friendship.
Catherine moved through the woods as silently as possible. She carried a pail of early-season blackberries. She’d visited the patch for the past several years and somehow the conditions of the little pocket of woods always made the berries ripen a month before the rest of the berries in this area would ripen.
And if she missed out on collecting them, the wild birds would take them all.
The blackberries along with the syrup she’d made from the maple sap earlier this year would make a nice complement to Pop’s biscuits tomorrow morning.
She was nearing the dugout when she caught sight of something suspicious and ducked behind a wide oak.
Heart hammering, she peeked out around the oak. Ralph was skulking, half-hidden behind a knocked-down tree that angled up from the earth, propped up by another, smaller tree. His attention was on the homestead.
Catherine looked beyond him, without moving from her hiding place behind the tree. From this distance, she couldn’t see activity in the barnyard, but likely he could.
It disgusted her to know that he might regularly be spying on her. No wonder his place was in such disrepair, if this was where he spent his time.
And…knowing that he was watching sent chills down her spine. How often?
How…vile.
As she watched, he ducked behind the windbreak tree. She edged back behind her own cover, in case he turned where he could see her.
Noise of oncoming footsteps crunching through the underbrush held her attention. Coming from the direction of the homestead. She could only pray it wasn’t Pop.
“I can see your boots,” came Matty’s voice. He sounded casual, but there was an edge to his words.
“Deputy.” Ralph stood tall. He raised both hands in front of himself briefly. Maybe to show that he had no weapon. “Didn’t expect to see you still hanging around these parts.”
What did that mean? Then she remembered that Matty hadn’t revealed his injury to Ralph. If Ralph thought he was in good health, perhaps he’d expected the cowboy to have moved on by now.
“Thought we talked about you leaving Catherine alone,” the cowboy countered, voice dangerously low.
Then, without warning, Matty’s gaze traveled to her in a direct line, almost as if he’d sensed her here.
Ralph turned to follow Matty’s gaze, and by now it would be pointless to continue to hide, so Catherine stepped out from behind the tree.
Ralph’s eyes still had a hard light to them as his eyes followed her movements to join Matty. “Afternoon, Catherine.”
“You’re trespassing,” she said.
“I was simply checking on a neighbor.”
“Shouldn’t you be worrying about your own property?” She came even with Matty and he touched the back of her wrist. Just a simple touch, but knowing he stood with her helped calm the fear that had risen in her throat at seeing Ralph sneaking about and spying.
“I warned you to stay away from Catherine. I thought we understood each other.”
“You didn’t say nothing about checking on a neighbor,” Ralph said, that ugly sneer making an appearance. “You said not to propose to Catherine no more.” He shrugged, but there was nothing nonchalant about the movement. “Ain’t planning to do that again. Nope.”
But something behind his words sent a warning through her like the bolts of bright lightning that had accompanied the storm before.
He could still do her much harm without proposing marriage. He could force her physically. He could kill her.
Just how badly did he want her land?
Matty must have sensed the danger lurking behind Ralph’s words, because his hand closed over Catherine’s.
“I think you should head on home,” Matty said firmly. “You aren’t welcome on Catherine’s land, and you’d best stay away from her as well.”
Ralph’s lips twisted. “You can’t stay here forever, deputy.” He drawled the title slowly. “When you got to go back home, back to your job, Catherine might take a little more kindly to the neighborly help I’m offering.”
“I will never need or want your help,” she said stiffly. “I’ve made that clear just about every way I know how.”
His eyes slid up and down her, making her feel slimy as if he’d touched her physically. “A woman runnin’ a place like this by yerself…you’ll need me. Mark my words.”
She stood stock-still, watching until he’d moved out of sight.
When Matty reached for her with a murmured, “Catherine…,” she whirled away, stalking toward the soddy.
She couldn’t accept his comfort, though she’d let him near in front of Ralph in a show of solidarity.
Because Ralph was right. Matty was going to leave. Sometime soon. And when he was gone, all the responsibility for the homestead would return to her shoulders.
And she would be left to worry about fending off Ralph on her own.
That night, they’d cleared the supper table, but a soft rain had begun falling and Matty seemed in no hurry to head outdoors. He’d stayed close all afternoon after the confrontation with Ralph. He sat on the stool but reached down and picked up a rusted can Catherine hadn’t noticed before now, sitting near his boots.
“I finished my set of dominos,” he said. He upended the can and dumped several into his palm, then placed them on the table. “Will y’all play a game with me?”
“I’ve got mending to do.” One of Catherine’s pairs of socks was more holes than fabric. She didn’t have time for games. And she was a little surprised that Matty wasn’t out patrolling or something. Maybe he thought Ralph wouldn’t return because of the rainy weather.
Or maybe he just wanted a break, didn’t want to have to worry all the time. Too bad she couldn’t escape it.
“Aw, Cath, you can spare time to play one game,” Pop wheedled.
She considered her grandfather, who had been so against their social visit to the Elliotts just yesterday. His moods were as changeable as the weather, and tonight he was full of cheer and wanted to play.
And Pop so rarely asked for anything. “I suppose you’re right.”
Matty’s face lit, like the lamp over his shoulder, and for a moment she found herself caught in the pleasure reflected there. All because she’d agreed to play a silly game?
Matty turned the dominos face down on the table and mixed them all around as he explained the rules and basic strategy. The dominos clacked together, momentarily louder than the rain outside.
When Catherine and Pop had the gist of the game, they each drew several dominos and began to play.
“I’ll go easy on y’all since it’s your first time to play.” Matty grinned.
“I played before, in the war,” Pop said. “But I don’ remember the rules, only that the kid that taught me was the most competitive person I’d ever met.” He paused. “`Cept maybe for you,” he continued with a nod to Matty.
“I just like to play,” Matty argued.
Pop harrumphed, but his smile remained. Catherine loved seeing it—Pop didn’t smile often.
“You’ve got a liking for games, too, gal,” Pop said and Catherine looked up from her dominos in surprise.
“She used to pal around with this little neighbor girl,” Pop said to Matty.
“I don’t remember that,” Catherine put in.
“Folks lived where the Chestertons are now. Moved on when you must’a been about six.”
Catherine searched her memories but couldn’t picture such a friend.
“The two of you were as thick as thieves, running the property, playing games and dollies.”
Why couldn’t she remember? And worse, why did her heart pang at the thought of having a friend?
Pop bowed out of the second game, but Catherine found herself agreeing to play again.
“You and Michaela seemed to get along,” Matty said.
Was that what it had seemed like? Michaela had barely tolerated her presence. Had poked fun at her hair, though she wasn’t meant to have heard.
“Did you ask Mr. Elliott to send word home as to your whereabouts?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He stared down at the dominos as he pushed them around the table, mixing them up. His concentration on the simple act seemed out of proportion. Or perhaps she was imagining his discomfort in light of her own conflicted feelings about him returning home.
“I’m getting stronger, but I’d like to settle this issue with the… with the neighbors before I go.” He glanced at Pop.
He cared.
She squelched that thought. Couldn’t afford to depend on Matty.
“It’s not your responsibility,” she said stiffly.
“I told you I would be your friend, and I aim to keep my word.”
She’d never had a friend and later, after he’d excused himself to the barn, she stared into the dark, unable to sleep.
A friend.
After the visit yesterday and Michaela’s disdain…and in the face of Matty’s constant support, Catherine realized she was starting to think of him that way.
She had a friend.
If only she knew what to do with him.