Two days later, with Ava under the care of the reverend’s daughter, Will searched through the tents for Tomasina. She hadn’t replied to any of his messages. Given the ragtag assortment of cowboys, he wasn’t even sure if she’d gotten them. The last two times he’d visited the drover’s encampment, he’d been told he’d just missed her. This time he wasn’t leaving until they’d spoken.
He’d been harsh with her because he’d been embarrassed by his own weakness. She’d been just as upset over the accident as everyone else. And what had he done? He’d shouted at her. He’d accused her of having enemies when the enemies were his own. She’d nearly been killed because of him.
Will sighed. He owed her an apology, but that wasn’t the only the reason he’d sought her out. Their encounters had left him with an insatiable need to discover more about her. How had she managed this long as a female in a profession dominated by men? Who was watching out for her? The more he thought about her situation, the more he feared for her safety.
Never a demonstrative man, in the quiet of the evening he’d prayed for her safety.
The drovers had set up their own city of tents and open fires. After three months or more on the trail, the cowboys often took the opportunity to rest before hooking up with another outfit. Their seasons followed much the same pattern. They’d drive the cattle to winter pastures before the first snowfall and start all over the following spring.
For now, whiskey flowed freely and tobacco smoke fogged the air. Occasionally rival groups broke into fisticuffs. Following a grueling trail ride, the men played as hard as they worked. Will encouraged the impromptu tent city as long as the drovers kept their roughhousing away from town and spent their wages in the local stores.
The idea of Tomasina living this way sent his stomach lurching. She was tough, but she was no match for these men. She was only a slip of a thing. Despite her bluster, she was too young, too innocent, for this life.
He paused in front of a grizzled old-timer perched on a leather sling chair. The man was whittling a hunk of wood. The sun had already sunk low on the horizon, and Will squinted through the smoke from the man’s campfire.
The old-timer glanced up. “What can I do you for, young man?”
“Looking for the Stone outfit.”
According to Daniel, Tomasina rode with her father. Since marrying, Daniel hadn’t been as involved in the stockyards operations, and he hadn’t seen Mr. Stone this time around.
“Folks around here call me Domino.” The old timer fisted one gnarled hand on his knee. “Ain’t much left of the Stone outfit these days.”
“What do you mean by that?” Will frowned at the gent’s cryptic words. “They brought in a herd last week.”
“Tom’s pa died on the trail a month or two back. James Johnson used to ride with the Stones, but he took up with another outfit this last spring. Theo Pierce’s, if I recall correctly.”
“I know James. He’s a good kid.”
The young drover had volunteered for sentry duty after the trouble with the Murdoch Gang. He was a good sentry, for the most part. Will had seen him flirting with one of the women from the bride train. Pippa Neely. She’d appeared flattered but nothing more.
“The only one left is Tomasina.” Domino resumed his whittling. “The rest of the boys finished the drive out of loyalty to Stone, but ain’t none of those men gonna take direction from a pretty girl. All of the hands signed on with other outfits. Tom is on her own these days.” The old-timer clicked his tongue. “Bad business, if you ask me. Change is coming. This country ain’t fit for a woman alone.”
Will’s unease increased tenfold. The more he learned, the less he liked what he was hearing. “Then she has no other family now that her father is gone?”
“Nope. It was just the two of them. Buried her pa on the trail, they did. Paid my respects when we passed by. There wasn’t anyone like Old Man Stone. You could have driven nails with that man’s hard head. He was tough but fair. He’d earned his respect around here.”
“What about Tom? Has she earned her respect?”
“With some folks, sure,” Domino answered. “But nothing is ever the same from season to season. Men come and they go. Since the war ended, the soldiers have flooded West. Without a uniform, it’s harder to tell which side folks are on these days.”
“The country has been united. We’re all on the same side.”
“Not when it comes to land and money.”
An edge in the man’s voice gave Will pause. “How do you mean?”
“These days a guy will slit your throat for water rights. It ain’t like before. Every war has winners and losers. Some men become heroes and some men are left desperate.”
Though Will figured the old-timer could talk for hours, he was impatient to finish his business and return to the hotel. The problem of Tomasina had grown even more complicated.
“You know where Tomasina is camped?” he asked.
“Why are you looking for her, anyway?” Domino sat straighter, his watery blue eyes narrowed. “Don’t go messing with Tom. Some of the other fellows and I, we keep a watch out for her as best we can. We don’t want any trouble.”
“I have business with her. That’s all.”
The man took his measure and nodded. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
“Good.”
At least one person around here had the sense to realize the danger. Will picked his way through the tents and campfires. Tomasina had recently lost her father. She was alone. She was in mourning.
He’d lost his own father near the beginning of the war. He’d buried his sorrow on the battlefield and forged ahead. Much to his shock, after the war his loss had come rushing back, as though his grief had simply remained dormant until he’d acknowledged the pain.
What had Tomasina been feeling these past few weeks? She’d given no indication that she’d suffered a loss, and yet the old-timer’s words spoke of an affection between father and daughter. Sooner or later she’d have to let down her guard, as well.
A grief buried never stayed dormant. There was always a reckoning.
When he reached the edge of the tents, a commotion snagged his attention. Two drovers wrestled in the dirt. A small knot of men had formed around them, jeering and shouting encouragement. Always up for a good brawl, more tents emptied, and Will lost sight of the scrapping men among the sea of onlookers. He shrugged and moved on. The pair was evenly matched, and he rarely interfered with the drovers when they settled their own disputes. It didn’t look like much of a fight anyway.
With most of the cowboys occupied, Will scrutinized the tents, searching for any sign of Tomasina. The dwellings were plain canvas, giving no clue as to the occupant. A pair of men snagged his attention. Their movements were quick and furtive. His instincts flared.
These men were clearly using the distraction of the fight as camouflage for their actions. Ducking out of sight, Will pursued the furtive men from a safe distance until the two reached the edge of the tent city. Shouts and cheers covered any noise they made. One of the men gestured to the other and pointed at a tent. The second man nodded.
The first man produced a knife and sliced through the canvas. Will lunged. A feminine voice screamed. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Tomasina.
Colliding with the first man, he drove the attacker to the ground. A flash of blade glinted in the moonlight, and he dodged left. Thwarted from his target, the man flipped awkwardly. His blade plunged into the ground near Will’s side.
The attacker ducked back and sprang to his feet. Groping for his walking stick, Will swung, catching the man around the ankles. The attacker yelped and stumbled backward. With the man caught off balance, Will regained his footing.
Tomasina erupted from the tent and barreled headlong into the arms of the second man. The outlaw’s eyes widened in surprise, and he snatched her upper arm.
“I got ’er!” the man hollered. “Let’s get out of here.”
Tomasina cracked the man across the jaw with her fisted hand. He pitched sideways. Lowering her head, she rammed his chest, sending him flying. The outlaw collapsed on his backside, his face contorted in fury. A bolt of pure terror shot through Will. If the enraged man got in a solid blow, he’d kill her for certain.
A vicious wallop against Will’s jaw caught him by surprise. His vision shattered in a haze of red. Squinting through the pain, he swung his fist, catching the attacker beneath the chin. The man’s knees twitched then buckled beneath him. Unconscious, he flopped onto his back.
The second outlaw pushed off from his prone position. He clawed for Tomasina, and she scooted back, kicking at his reaching hands. Will crossed the distance in three pounding strides.
As he reached her side, she planted her booted foot in her attacker’s chest and pointed her cocked pistol between his eyes.
The outlaw went still.
“You owe me a new tent, mister,” she declared.
Flexing his aching knuckles, Will shook out his throbbing hand. Now that the immediate danger had passed, he caught his breath.
He glanced around and realized the drovers had abandoned their rowdy fight and were gathering around the new drama.
Will rubbed his tender jaw. “Two bits to the man who fetches the sheriff.”
“I’ll go,” a young man eagerly volunteered. He touched two fingers to his hat and dashed off.
The outlaw staring down the barrel of Tomasina’s gun frantically shook his head. “This is all a mistake, Miss. You got this all wrong.”
One of the cowboys sidled away from the crowd. Recognizing the man, Will elbowed his way through the drovers and blocked the man’s exit. “Not so fast.”
“Me?” The man rubbed at his rapidly swelling eye. “I didn’t do nothin’. I had my own fight. Everyone here saw. They can tell you. I had nothing to do with this.”
“I’ll wager you started that fight as a diversion.” Grabbing the cowboy who’d started the fight by the scruff of the neck, he yanked the third man toward his friends. “And I’m growing heartily sick of staged diversions.”
The unconscious attacker groaned, and his eyes fluttered open. “What happened?”
Will shoved the third attacker forward.
Having barely regained consciousness, the first man blinked in confusion a few times. “What happened, John? Where’s Frank?”
John groaned. “Shut up, fool. You’re giving us away.”
“I guessed as much.” Will glanced between the two men. “I only had to see two licks of that fight to realize you weren’t giving it your all. Then I saw these two skulking around the tents. Figured the three of you were up to no good.”
The old-timer Will had spoken with earlier chortled and elbowed Tomasina in the side. “Good thing this fellow was around to save you.”
“I can take care of myself.” Tomasina holstered her pistol and glared at Will. “What were you doing here anyway?”
“Checking on you.”
The men gathered around them snickered. One drover nudged his companion. “Looks like Tomasina has a fellow.”
Whistles and hoots followed.
“He’s not my fellow.” Tomasina’s glare could have melted iron. “He’s...he’s...he’s the fool who owns the hotel in town.”
Sheriff Davis chose that fortuitous moment to make an appearance. “Heard you had some trouble here, Will.” He caught sight of Tomasina and jerked his head in a nod of greeting. “Miss Stone.”
“Sheriff Davis.”
Will straightened. “Quincy, these three men were attempting to abduct Miss Stone.”
“It ain’t like that at all,” John insisted. “We were just having some fun. I heard from the fellows around here that Texas Tom is good for a laugh. She knows we didn’t mean any harm.”
Will flicked the cut edge of her tent with his cane and flashed the knife he held in his opposite hand. “You want to reconsider your story?”
The sheriff turned toward Tomasina. “Do you know any of these men?”
“Nope.”
“Which outfit you fellows ride in with?” Quincy asked. “Anyone here want to lay claim to these guys?”
“They ain’t from around here,” one of the cowboys in the crowd shouted.
“They rode in this morning,” another called. “Said they was looking for work.”
Sensing a change in the mood of the crowd, Frank’s gaze darted between Sheriff Davis and Will. “I’m tellin’ the truth. This is just a misunderstanding. We’re here to work. We were just playing around.”
“Change of plans,” Will declared. “You’ll be spending time in jail before moving on.”
“Wait just a second,” John demanded. “What’s the charge?”
“I think we all know what you fellows were planning,” Will said through gritted teeth. “You want me to say the words?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” John held up his hands. “I ain’t going to jail for her. She’s riding with a bunch of men. She knows what that means.”
Will clipped the man beneath chin, neatly leveling him.
Quincy raised an eyebrow in question.
Shrugging, Will said, “He talked too much.”
“He was bugging me, too,” the sheriff replied easily.
A bucket of water was fetched. The man came up sputtering and hollering. All three men’s hands were tied and a rope strung between them before the sheriff marched them into town. Now that the excitement was over, the drovers gradually dispersed to their fires and tents.
Will turned to Tomasina. “Pack up your stuff. You’re coming with me.”
“No.”
Her stubborn reply only hardened his resolve. “It’s going to rain tonight, and your tent isn’t fit for habitation.”
She stuck out her chin. “I ain’t afraid of a little rain.”
“Please,” Will said, feeling more tired than he had in ages. What if he hadn’t come along when he had? Would anyone else have noticed? The others had been more interested in the fight than keeping an eye out for the lone woman in their midst. “After what happened tonight, I can’t leave you here. Seeing to the welfare of the town is part of my job.”
Tomasina scuffed at the dirt. “I’m not part of your town.”
“As long as you’re living in Cowboy Creek, you’re a part of this town.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s been a long day. I don’t want to argue with you.”
Her mutinous expression faltered. “I’m fine here.”
“I’ll tell you what.” This situation called for diplomacy, and diplomacy was all about give-and-take. He had something she wanted; she simply didn’t know it yet. “As long you stay at the hotel, I won’t harass you about your guns.”
Tomasina squinted. “What are you getting at?”
“What I said. Clearly you need to protect yourself. If you want to keep your guns, I’ll see that no one questions you. But only if you’re living at the hotel.”
“I already have a deal with the sheriff.”
“And the sheriff answers to me.”
“Fine.” The stubborn set of her jaw remained. “But don’t go acting like you won or something. I’m staying in town because it’s late, I’m tired and I don’t feel like sewing up my tent in the dark.”
“Understood.”
“I’ll pay my own way at the hotel,” she said in a clipped tone. “I’ve got money. I won’t be beholden to anyone.”
“Of course.”
A wary silence stretched between them. With the ruckus over, the small tent city had grown hushed once more. Only a hint of moonlight filtered through the gathering clouds.
A drover tossed a piece of kindling onto his fire, and embers shot into the sky. The mournful wailing of a harmonica sounded in the distance. Will didn’t push her. He let her mull over her options.
Tomasina huffed. “Give me a minute to pack my stuff.”
His sense of victory failed to materialize. There was something wrong. She’d given in awfully easily. He stepped closer, studying her face in the dim moonlight. The evening’s events had transpired too quickly, and he hadn’t taken the time to look at her—really look at her—since the attack. Was she injured? His pulse thudded.
“Wait.” He caught her hand and tugged her closer. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
“They didn’t hurt me.”
She slowly closed her eyes, her shoulders drooping. For a moment he thought he caught a hint of tears glinting on her eyelashes. Her chin wobbled. Without giving himself time to regret his actions, he folded her close. She sagged into his embrace and wrapped her arms around his middle. A fierce need to protect and cherish this woman overwhelmed him. She trembled, and he tightened his hold.
“It’s over,” he said, his voice gravelly with emotion. “They’re gone. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
“I know. It’s not that.”
“What, then?” He put some space between them and wiped at the tear glistening on the apple of her cheek. “What is this for?”
Without meeting his gaze, she slumped against him once more. “No one has ever asked me that question before,” she said, her words muffled against his shirt. “You know, asked me if I was all right.”
His breath seized. “They should have.”
“This has been a really, really long week.”
“Yes.”
A person could only be strong for so long, and she’d reached her limit. He rubbed her back in soothing, rhythmic circles. Her hair tickled his nose, smelling of warm sunlight and lazy spring days. Because of her fiery personality, he sometimes forgot how petite she was, how delicate. Standing amid the sea of tents, he sensed her loneliness. Her sorrow stretched between them like a thread. They’d all lost people. He understood better than most the heavy burden of unshed tears.
She sniffled loudly. “If you go blabbering about this, the deal is off.”
“A gentleman never blabbers.”
She’d had a fright this evening, and now wasn’t the time for asking about her father. He sensed a certain restraint in her; a wariness he didn’t always understand. He was hesitant to push her further. Though open and forthright in most matters, she kept a part of herself hidden. He had a gut feeling if he pressed her too quickly, she’d withdraw and shut him out completely. The past few days had sapped them both. He’d approach her later, when she was rested, when some of her strength had returned.
Their gazes met and locked. Her lower lip quivered, and he rubbed the pad of his thumb against the trembling. “You have quite a left hook.”
A little of the spark returned to her eyes. “He never saw it coming.”
Only a complete blackguard would kiss someone in her vulnerable condition. Too bad he was feeling more and more like a blackguard these days.
Sensing the shift in mood between them, her gaze grew watchful. She was a delightful mix of contradictions. One moment she was drawing her six-shooters, the next she was trembling in his arms because he’d asked a simple question. How could she embody tough and innocent at the same time?
She sniffled quietly and gently shoved him away. “I can’t have anyone thinking I’ve gone soft.”
Suddenly bereft, his arms hung in the air another moment, keeping the memory of her shape. There was no easing her pain. Only time healed those wounds. He’d keep her safe instead. With added security at the hotel, he’d ensure her well-being. At least for now. She was too independent to stay in one place for long.
Oblivious to the effect she had on him, Tomasina quickly gathered her belongings, and they collapsed her tent.
With her pack slung over one shoulder, he accompanied her to the hotel. “I want to apologize for my behavior the other day. Little Owen is no worse for wear from his ordeal.”
Her skepticism was obvious. “Are you admitting that you were wrong about something?”
“You’ve earned the right to gloat.” He paused. “Don’t overdo it. There’s substantial evidence to prove the diversion was created by the Murdoch Gang. You’ve heard by now we’ve captured Zeb.”
“I heard. How’s he doing?”
“Not well. I don’t know if he’ll pull through.”
“If he lives, will the Murdoch Gang come for him?” Tomasina asked.
“I reckon so.”
She paused and caught his gaze. “The cowboys should have been watching the gate. The Murdochs never should have gotten that close.”
“What happened was my fault,” he said grimly. “I shouldn’t have blamed you.”
“I accept your apology.”
“Good.”
“And part of the blame.”
He quirked a brow. “Tomasina Stone. I thought you’d embrace gloating with more enthusiasm. Must you always have the last word?”
“Yep.” She grinned, her white teeth flashing in the moonlight.
She’d gotten him again. At least she’d let him apologize. Sort of. She was staying at the hotel, too, which eased some of his worries. Will heaved a sigh at this small victory, although he didn’t linger over his short-lived relief. He’d sort out the rest when the time came.
They reached the hotel, and Simon arranged for a room and fetched a key.
Will followed their progress up the carpeted stairs. “Try to stay out of trouble for the next few hours, would ya? Simon needs his beauty sleep.”
His porter shot him a blistering glower.
“Hey, Will,” Tomasina called.
He paused. “Yes?”
“Word.”
Grinning, he allowed her the last word. He’d been in enough battles to realize this war was far from over.