The Texan's Touch Page 19

  “The stage line reported one male passenger. I remember him as young, about average size. He could have gotten as close as your men would let the bandits, since they’re working for you. They’d each die before they could make a sound.”

  The grim facts finally settled over Wes’s face. “The men are already on post for the night. What do you suggest?”

  “They won’t make their move until the camp’s settled down. It’s to their advantage to have as many men sleeping as possible. When are you moving out?”

  “A few days, maybe a week. I pulled in early. My partner, Vincent, is picking up a few hundred head southeast of here. He’s due in by the end of the week.”

  Nick shook her head. “Then my guess is they’ll attack tonight or tomorrow night. These men don’t want to put in too many days of honest work, and once you’re on the trail there could be other complications.

  “Once your partner is here, that’s more men to worry about, so they have to strike before he arrives. Here they know exactly where their backup is. The way this land rolls, raiders could be waiting unseen within a mile or two to help with the stolen herd. By dawn you and your men could be dead, and they’d have the herd moved out before your partner arrived. No one would be the wiser. We’d just never hear from you again, and we’d have no idea if you were killed in Texas or Kansas.”

  “I see your point about tonight or tomorrow,” Wes answered. “And I let ten of the men who’ve been with me for a month go into town for the night. That’s ten men I can trust that are gone.” He tossed his smoke into the fire. “The latest to be hired are the ones with me tonight.”

  “And, I’m guessing, three you can’t trust are here with you,” she hesitated, “maybe more.”

  “Maybe,” Wes said. “But most of the others have been with me for a while.” He walked a few steps toward the sleeping men.

  Nick followed, allowing him time to think things out for himself.

  “If they’ve got any sense, they’ll go after me first,” he mumbled. “Take out the leader if you can get to him. Then the men would have no one to follow. A few of my hands might try to fight, but most will run if given the chance. They hired on for a cattle drive, not a war.”

  Wes paused. “I’m trapped in the darkness with no law close by or backup in sight. I’m not even sure who’s on my side.”

  “You’ve got one ace in the hole.” Nick patted him on the shoulder.

  “I do?” he asked.

  “Sure,” she answered. “Me.”

  Wes stood beside her and watched Adam walking toward them. “I don’t want Adam here. This could get ugly, and it’s not his fight. I used to worry during the war that if he were ever forced to fight, he’d hesitate a moment, deciding what was right. And that moment would get him killed.”

  “If it’s your fight, it’s his. He’s your brother,” she answered. “But I know what you mean. Men like him weren’t born to listen for danger and smell trouble on the wind. He’s worth too much to this world to die with a bullet in his back.”

  Wes pushed her gently with his shoulder. “And I am worth so little?” he teased.

  “Definitely, and a waste of lead at that,” she answered, and nudged him back with double the force he’d used.

  Wes laughed. “Better watch it, kid, or I’ll take you down a notch off that high horse you’re riding on.”

  Nick shoved again. “You and what cavalry, old man?”

  Both laughed, releasing tension the way soldiers do waiting for the dawn of battle.

  Adam watched them as he walked toward the campfire. The realization of how well they fit together struck him like a blow. He’d never seen Wes laugh like he did around Nichole, and even in the firelight shadows he could tell they were teasing one another about something. They were alike in so many ways. A matched set.

  This could be the answer, Adam thought. If they married, Wes would settle down and finally lose the coat of hardness he’d molded during the war. And Nichole would have a man who understood her. She loved the free life, the wild life, and she’d have that with Wes in Texas. His big brother needed a wife who could keep up with him, who didn’t mind the hardness of the land or the wildness of the country. They were perfect for one another.

  Adam took a deep breath. If they were so right for each other, why did he feel like he’d had rocks for supper?

  “How’s Franky?” Wes asked when Adam was within ten feet.

  “He needs the cut cleaned properly and stitched,” Adam answered. “Otherwise there could be a bad infection.”

  “I hate to leave him behind,” Wes grumbled. “He’s so excited about going. Plans to use his wages to start a farm down by Austin. Got a girl waiting for him. If he doesn’t make the trip, it’ll be another year before he can start his dream.”

  Adam sat the lantern down. “If we unloaded the supply wagon, I could drive him into my office and fix him up right, then bring him back by dawn. It might mean a few days riding in the wagon for him, but by a week the leg should be fine. If left as it is, it’ll take weeks to heal, and the chance of infection is great.”

  “Sounds like a good plan, Adam. Take him in and do what you can.” Wes glanced at Nick. “Want to stay here, kid, and watch cattle all night?”

  To Adam’s surprise, she nodded.

  Within minutes, the wagon had been unloaded and the cowhand placed on blankets in the back. Adam checked the reins as Wes talked to Franky, assuring the boy that the doctor would bring him back in time.

  Nichole moved behind Adam without saying a word. She was so close he could feel the warmth of her body. She had no idea of the effect she had on him, Adam decided. Just standing close made him fight the urge to reach for her.

  “I wish you were going back with me,” he grumbled as though not wanting to say the words, but having to.

  “I’ll be safe here,” she said. “At least you’ll know where I am tonight, and I won’t be bothering you by sleeping in your bed.”

  He wanted to tell her that she didn’t bother him. This morning had been heaven with her curled into his side and he’d been a fool for suggesting she return to her own bed. But now wasn’t the place or the time. And if she spent the night talking with Wes, there might never be a time or place for him.

  Adam closed his eyes and remembered the feel of her against him. He wouldn’t stand between Wes and Nichole if it was meant to be, no matter how much he might ache inside.

  He pulled himself onto the wagon seat. “Take care,” he whispered to Nichole, wishing he could kiss her good-bye. The night, with her here and him back in town, would seem endless.

  “Take care.” Nichole’s fingers brushed his knee. “I’ll see you at dawn.”

  She watched Adam drive the wagon toward town, knowing she might never see him again. He was the one man she’d kissed, or ever wanted to. The only time she slept soundly was in his arms. This man who hated war and violence had somehow crept into her heart. He didn’t want her, he’d proved that this morning when he reminded her to stay in her own bed, but that didn’t stop her from wanting him.

  She couldn’t be the kind of woman he needed, but maybe she could save Adam’s brother tonight. That would be one thing she could do for him. Wes was just the kind of honorable, straightforward fool who’d get himself killed by outlaws. He was what the Shadows used to refer to as a “predictable.” They knew by the way he’d been trained how he’d react.

  “Well, he was easier to get rid of than I thought,” Wes interrupted her silence as he moved up behind her and they both watched Adam driving the wagon into the darkness. “Give him someone to doctor and he’s on his way. He didn’t seem all that upset that you were staying, kid.”

  Nick wasn’t listening as she turned and watched the guards changing shifts. She didn’t want to think about how easily Adam had left. She now had a job to do. “How often do the guards ro
tate?”

  “Every two hours a third of the men change. That way each man gets at least four hours sleep at a time. This is the ten o’clock switch.”

  “It won’t be this shift,” Nichole studied the camp layout. “The moon’s still too high, and a few men haven’t settled down for the night. My guess is it’ll be midnight or two before something happens. Four would be too close to dawn and they’d have to deal with the chance the men might ride in from town.”

  “What do we do in the meantime?” Wes adjusted his gun belt.

  “We walk the perimeter, casual like, talking. But keep your eyes out for which guards seem to be watching us more closely than the others. If we spot him, that’s the point man. The one assigned to start, probably by taking you out of the fight first. He’ll be working this shift or the next, so that he can be in camp close to you when the fighting starts.”

  Wes took a deep breath and straightened. “Sounds like a good plan. All we have to do is walk, watch, and wait for someone to make a move to kill me.”

  Nichole forced her body to relax. She leaned down and picked up a handful of rocks, then casually tried to toss them into the stream.

  Wes watched her. “Talk,” he said as if giving himself an order. “I feel better knowing Adam’s safe.”

  Nick reached down for another handful of rocks. “He’ll be madder than hell if he finds out we let him go back to town when we thought there was going to be trouble. He’s a worse mother hen than Wolf.”

  “I’ll never tell him we suspected anything,” Wes promised. “It will be our secret, just like your loving him.”

  “I don’t love him!” Nick snapped, and dusted the dirt from her hands. “Love’s a weakness for fools. Something no one needs.”

  “I agree.” Wes fell back into step with her. “But that doesn’t stop us all from playing the fool now and again. I fell in love once just before the war, when Adam was still in medical school.” He rubbed his scar with the tip of his thumb. “I got this in the first battle. Months later, when I made it back home, there was a big party for my return and Adam’s graduation. After one dance, the young lady I’d given my heart to told me she couldn’t live every day of her life staring at this scar.” He took a deep breath. “By the last waltz, she was engaged to Adam.”

  “Bergette!” Nick let the word rush out before she could stop it. “You were in love with her? Does Adam know?”

  Wes shook his head. “I figured he’d see for himself what kind of woman she was after he was around her a while, and he did.”

  “Would you have stopped him if the wedding had been set?”

  Wes wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they passed through low branches. “Not stopped him, but helped him see the light. When you and Wolf showed up that first night we were home, I saw my opportunity. You see, Bergette’s a schemer who always gets her way. I had no idea what you wanted of my brother, but I figured you’d help him see Bergette for what she was.”

  Nick laughed. “I guess we did ruin Bergette’s plans. We were the uninvited guests.”

  “When I got to the house, the minute I saw the way Adam looked at you, I knew my worries were over. Bergette would never sleep in our family plot. She can tell everyone they’re still engaged, but that doesn’t make it so.”

  “He may have broken off with her. They don’t seem too friendly. But it doesn’t mean he loves me.” She wished she could believe Wes’s words. “Adam made it clear this morning and other mornings that there could be nothing between us. He’s only paying back a debt by taking me in.”

  “And what about at night, kid? How does he act when you’re both in the shadows?”

  Nick watched the outline of the riders on guard, not wanting Wes to see her tears. “Sometimes,” she whispered, “he holds me tight, like he never wants to let go. And when he kisses me, I can feel the heat all through my body.”

  “He’s got it worse than I thought,” Wes admitted with a laugh. “I know my brother. He’ll fight his feelings with logic and rules, but he’ll lose this time.”

  “But I’m not the kind of woman he needs. I’m not pretty with hair piled on my head and a dress that floats around me. I don’t even own a dress. Compared to Bergette, I must look like a toad.”

  “Never. He sees what I see,” Wes assured her. “Dressed any way, even bald, you’re one hell of a woman. A man would be proud to have you at his side in war, or peace.”

  “Well, I’m here with you tonight.” Nick lowered her voice. “And I just spotted our man.”

  Wes slowly turned his head, looking at the three men on horseback that he could see. Their faces were in darkness and they weren’t close enough to recognize, but after a few minutes, he felt it more than saw it. One was watching him.

  “What next?” he asked.

  “Simple.” Nick turned back toward the camp. “You go to sleep and wait.”

  “I can’t go to sleep. What do you think I am, crazy?”

  “No.” She laughed. “You’re not crazy. You’re bait.”

  “Oh.” Wes shrugged. “That’s comforting.”

  TWENTY

  WES UNSTRAPPED HIS gun belt as they walked toward camp. “You’ve been a marvel at guessing what will happen tonight, kid, but I’ve got something to add.”

  Nichole waited as he strutted with pride at having thought of something she hadn’t.

  “We’ve no use for our guns. These men know as well as I do that one shot could send the herd into stampede. They want the beef, but not bad enough to chase them two hundred miles to claim them.”

  “So every man must be killed silently?” Nick followed his thoughts. “Not an easy job.”

  Wes nodded. “And another thing, once the snakes show themselves, we don’t kill them.”

  “We don’t?”

  “No, we take them alive. Otherwise, we might kill two or three but the gang waiting out there somewhere would get away. Our only hope of catching the whole kit and caboodle of raiders is to take the ones in our midst alive and hope they’ll talk once they’re behind bars. These men may be the very gang that’s been pestering travelers around Fort Worth for months.”

  Nick started to unbuckle her gun belt, hesitated, then stopped. “I won’t shoot, but I’d feel undressed without my Colt. Besides, if a stampede happens, and I’m caught in the middle, I plan to take a few of them ugly longhorns down before they trample me.”

  She slipped her knife from her boot, showing Wes she was armed with more than the gun. “I have little faith in the deputy in town getting anyone to talk.”

  Wes tossed her a bedroll from a shoulder-high pile made when they unloaded the supply wagon. “Well, if you won’t undress, kid, we might as well go to bed.”

  They moved over by the trees where several men, finished with a shift, were bedding down. Without a word, she spread her blanket between Wes and the trees. He watched her as best he could in the darkness. She seemed to be settling down, but he noticed a tree branch very close to her feet. Within minutes, her bedroll still looked as though she were sleeping soundly. But Wes knew she wasn’t beneath the hat and blankets. He hadn’t seen her move in the shadows, but the branch had disappeared. Nick was in the wooded area behind him. He didn’t need to see her. He knew she was there.

  Leaning back, Wes tried to relax, knowing that Nick was on guard. She was good, he thought, maybe the best he’d ever seen. He admired her talent, but didn’t want to think about all that she’d gone through to polish her skills.

  The moon passed behind the clouds as midnight approached. The low sounds of the cattle rumbled in the air as the men traded shifts once more. One by one the guards came in, walked among the bedrolls until they found their replacement, and shook him awake. The cook checked the coffeepot from time to time. As the night aged, so did the coffee, filling the air with a rich aroma.

  When all the men had settled back
to sleep, Nick moved to the tree closest to Wes. She guessed he was still awake, but he was doing a good job of staying still. From this point on, he wouldn’t be out of her sight.

  She eased down the trunk of an old cottonwood, blending into the gaps where bark became root. Without a sound, her outline became a part of the roots spreading out on the ground. Wes would be safe with her on guard.

  Half an hour passed. Nick studied the camp. All were asleep. A lone man moved among the horses, then slowly ventured toward the bedrolls. Something about his movements made her come alert. As he neared Wes, she slipped her knife from her boot.

  “Boss,” the lone cowhand whispered as he knelt beside Wes. “Boss, I need you to take a look at my mount. I’m afraid he may have gone lame.”

  One sleeping cowhand rolled away from the conversation. No one else stirred.

  Wes rose slowly and grumbled.

  Nick was within jumping distance of touching the man. But she had to wait for him to make the first move. He could be just what he pretended, a rider with a lame mount.

  The cowhand led the way toward the horses tied on the other side of a dying campfire. “Mine’s tied near the other end,” he said as he seemed to hurry Wes toward his horse.

  “Couldn’t this wait till morning?” Wes complained.

  “I figured we’d be too busy come daylight.” The cowhand pointed toward his horse. “This is him.”

  Wes patted the animal on the rump so he wouldn’t startle the horse as he knelt. Nick watched as Wes ran his hand down the hind leg of the paint.

  As Wes tightened his grip and lifted the horses hoof, Nick saw a blade slip from the center back of the cowhand’s belt and rise high in the air.

  In a heartbeat, she closed the distance. Before he had time to lower his knife toward Wes, hers pressed across his throat hard enough to draw a blood line.

  “Move,” she whispered, “and air no longer reaches your lungs.”

  Turning, Wes stood slowly. With the light of the distant fire, he could see the man’s eyes were wild with anger and fear. His knife was still held high, flickering in the light like a fractured moonbeam. Another moment and he would have sunk the weapon into Wes.