Last Chance Cowboys Page 14

  “Does she know this?”

  “I don’t think she knows about any of this,” he admitted. “I need to find her, Nita, before…”

  Juanita looked at her dead son and then bowed her head. “Go,” she whispered.

  “Nita, I—”

  “Go!” And this time, the single command was a growl. Juanita looked up at him, her face ravaged by loss and tears. “There is nothing you can do here, Trey. You made your choice. Go find your wife before there is more killing.”

  The sun was low in the sky as he approached Nell’s place. He saw the wisp of smoke before he was in sight of the house and outbuildings. The chimney—Nell had returned, then, and was waiting for him! He spurred his horse, anxious to see her. How would she take the news of Henry’s death? Topping the mesa, he drew in his breath, and his heart hammered. There was nothing but devastation below—the house had caved in on itself and was still smoldering, livestock wandering aimlessly around the yard, and no sign of human life anywhere.

  He rode full-out down the rocky trail and up to the house, shouting his wife’s name as he came closer. The stench of the burned-out house reached him. “Nell! Nellie!” And with every repetition of her name, he prayed that the silence meant she wasn’t there, not that she was unable to answer.

  He explored the ruins, satisfying himself that Nell and Joshua were not there, and his mind raced with the possibilities in the aftermath of the day’s events. Two men dead and a ranch destroyed. All-out war would be impossible to avoid now.

  Nell.

  Looking around, he searched the horizon as if she might appear. Where would she go? Back to town? No. Too far. Her brother’s place was closer.

  He hesitated. How would her family react if he showed up there now that Henry was dead? They no doubt blamed him. And what were they telling Nell? He had to see her, make sure she understood the last thing he’d wanted from this meeting was violence. Henry’s death had been a horrible accident.

  Even so, would Nell want anything to do with him now? Would she regret her decision to marry him? Would she turn away?

  All these questions and more raced through his mind as he traveled cross-country. He refused to believe he and Nell had made a mistake in marrying. The timing might not have been right, but he was more convinced than ever that this woman was the one he’d waited his whole life to find. Still, he could not deny that neither of them had really thought about the reactions of others beyond the general idea that their union would upset some, but in time… So preoccupied was he with his fears that he almost missed seeing the lone rider galloping along the trail that ran on top of a ridge. A woman. She wore a sunbonnet, and as he came closer, he realized she rode bareback.

  “Nellie!” He continued to shout her name as he pushed his own mount to top speed. He doubted she could hear anything more than the thunder of her horse’s hooves, so he stopped calling out to her and focused instead on gaining on her.

  The two riders rode on a course that would have them intersect eventually, leaving dual trails of thick dust in their wake. The only sounds were the beat of the hooves and the combined breaths of horse and rider, each pushed to the full limits of their abilities.

  When Trey started to gain ground, he saw Nell glance back over her shoulder and urge her horse to greater speed. Had she seen him—recognized him—and now was trying her best to outrun him? No matter. She might not believe him, but she had to hear him out.

  “Nell! Hold up,” he shouted as he finally overcame the distance between them. He reached for the bridle even as she pulled on the reins. He could not read her expression but saw her face was streaked with dirt and tears. “Please.” He wasn’t sure what it was he was pleading for, but their horses slowed and then stopped, and suddenly, the world was silent except for the bellows of their mounts and their own rapid breathing.

  “I’m so sorry.” They spoke in unison.

  He dismounted and held out his arms to her. Without hesitation, she slid from her horse into his embrace. Holding her now felt very different. There was no hesitation, no shyness. Instead, there was raw need on both sides, and there was comfort.

  “What are we going to do?” she murmured, her voice muffled by his shirt.

  “Is Joshua still with Addie?”

  She shook her head and pulled free of his hold. “They burned our house, Trey. I saw the men, three of them, riding away. I was afraid, so I took Joshua and went to Henry’s and then…”

  “I know. How’s your sister-in-law holding up?”

  “She’s devastated. The boys are telling everyone you murdered Henry.”

  “It was an accident, Nell.” He explained what had happened—about Javier and the knife and then Henry and the gun. “He tripped and went over the edge, Nell, and it was his gun that went off. I swear. You have to believe me. Jess was there. He saw it all. You can ask him.”

  She caressed his cheek. “Shhh,” she whispered. “I believe you.”

  Relief raced through him with such force that he pulled her to him again, this time to draw on the strength he felt radiating from this incredible woman, this woman who was his wife. Together, they would make this right—the deaths of her brother and his friend would be the end of it.

  “Come home with me,” he said. “We’ll send one of my men for Joshua.”

  “Joshua will be fine with Lottie, but Trey, we can’t go back to your ranch.”

  “Why on earth not?”

  “My nephew killed Javier. His parents will never—”

  “Juanita knows I came to find you. She will not welcome you with open arms, but she—and Eduardo—will understand that, as my wife, the ranch is where you belong.”

  “And Javier’s brother?”

  “That’ll take more time,” he admitted.

  “And those men who burned down my house?”

  “Those men don’t work for me.”

  “Javier did,” she replied softly.

  She had him there. Javier had fallen under the influence of Pete Collins, a man on a mission. The death of Javier at the hands of the herders would give Collins all the reason he needed to seek revenge and persuade others to join him. Trey had no doubt Pete had some hand in the burning of Nell’s home, and that was evidence enough of Collins’s determination to declare open warfare.

  “I need you by my side, Nell. I need to know you and Joshua are safe at the ranch.”

  She chewed on her lower lip. “I don’t know, Trey. Perhaps one night,” she bargained.

  “My home is your home, Nellie—yours and Joshua’s. Tomorrow, we’ll bring him from your brother’s place and get settled in. It will help Juanita to have a kid she can fuss over.”

  “Or it could remind her of her loss and be far more painful than you could ever imagine, Trey. I’ll stay tonight but make no promises beyond that.”

  * * *

  It was dusk when they reached the Porterfield ranch. Addie and Jess had arrived, along with a couple of neighbor women Nell had seen in church. Javier’s brother, Rico, was there with his wife, Louisa, and their toddler. Everyone was seated in the courtyard, except for the women who bustled in and out of the house, bringing tea and a shawl for Juanita. From the barn came the sounds of hammering and a plane smoothing wood—no doubt for Javier’s coffin. Only Juanita looked up as Trey rode to the corral and handed his horse and Nell’s over to one of his hired hands.

  Nell was glad when Trey took a firm hold of her hand as they walked back to the gathering. Rico took one look at her and walked away, ignoring the way his wife reached out to stop him. Nell could see a couple of Trey’s hired hands scowling from their vantage point just outside the barn.

  But Javier’s mother scooted to one side of the bench and patted the seat next to her. “Come sit with me, child.” She stretched out her hand to Nell, the simple—and generous—act making it clear to all that this matriarch expected o
thers to mind their manners.

  Nell sat. “I am so very—”

  Juanita stopped her condolences with a wave of one calloused hand. “There is grief enough on both sides.”

  Nell nodded and bowed her head, respecting the silence but aware that Trey had taken his brother aside. There was a heated exchange between them, and Nell tried to catch Addie’s eye, but the woman she had counted as a friend would not look at her. And when the neighbors emerged from the kitchen bearing a tray filled with mugs of steaming tea, they stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of her.

  “We’ll be needing two more cups,” Juanita said. “Trey and his wife are here.”

  “I’ll get them,” Louisa offered. She relieved the women of the tray, passed it to Addie, and then ushered the neighbors back inside the house. Nell was touched by Louisa’s kindness. She realized this young woman must have faced her fair share of whispers and scowls after marrying Rico—she, the daughter of a wealthy white rancher, and he, the son of Mexican hired help.

  Nell imagined a similar gathering at her brother’s place. By now, others would have gotten word and come to offer support and comfort. And would the men gather as Rico did now with the ranch hands near the barn, their planes and hammers silenced as they talked, gestured, and cast furtive looks in her direction?

  So lost in thought was she that she was unaware of the mug of tea being offered until Addie said, “Where’s your son, Nell?”

  The inquiry garnered the attention of the others.

  “It’s been a confusing time for him.”

  “You left him alone at your ranch?” Addie’s disapproval was palpable.

  “No. He’s with family.”

  Suddenly, Trey was at her side, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. “Nell’s house was set afire. She and Joshua took refuge at her brother’s place. I persuaded her to come here, but she thought it best to let Joshua stay there. We’ll send for him tomorrow.”

  “It’s a total loss, the house?” Addie studied Trey closely.

  “Not that it matters if it was partial or total, Addie,” he replied, an edge to his voice, “but Nell has lost everything.”

  “I’m so very sorry.” Addie’s sympathy seemed genuine; maybe there was some measure of hope that at least their friendship could survive this madness.

  “It’s been a day of sorrow for everyone,” Trey said. “If you’ll excuse us, I want to get Nell settled.”

  He offered her his hand, and she grasped it as the lifeline it was. Together, they walked to the portico that covered the front entrance of the house and on inside. Nell felt immediately calmed by the surroundings—thick adobe walls, beamed ceilings, tile floors covered here and there with colorful handwoven rugs, furniture lovingly carved by the hands of craftsmen who took pride in their work. Through an open arched door, she caught a glimpse of the library Trey had mentioned to Joshua and found herself imagining her son there, his appetite for learning sated at last.

  She followed Trey down a hall lined with framed portraits. She recognized one of Jess, another of Addie, and assumed the others were of his sisters and parents. There were even drawings of Javier and his family. “There’s none of you,” she said as she paused to look at the portrait he’d done of Juanita.

  “Never tried a self-portrait,” he replied as he opened a door at the far end of the hall and waited for her to enter. “Welcome home, Nellie.”

  A large four-poster bed dominated the room. More handwoven rugs covered parts of the dark wood of the wide-planked floor. There was a large wardrobe, a matching bureau, and dressing table. Across from the bed was a small arched fireplace with two worn leather chairs facing it and a shelf filled with books set into the wall. The windows were fitted with intricate ironwork that filtered the waning light. It was the most beautiful room Nell had ever seen.

  She walked around looking at everything as she allowed her fingers to brush over the inviting bedding, the intricate carving on the furnishings, and the details of the filigreed shutters.

  “Say something,” Trey pleaded.

  “I can’t find words. ‘It’s lovely’ hardly seems enough.”

  “It’s yours—ours. Joshua will be right down the hall there in my old room.” He glanced around as if seeing his surroundings for the first time. “I know it’s not what you had, what you may have liked better, but—”

  “Trey, how will your family feel about this? This is the room your parents shared, is it not? And now to have it…to have someone like me here?”

  He crossed to her in three determined strides and wrapped his arms around her. “You are my wife, Nellie Porterfield, and as such, you have every right to be in this house, this room, and my life, okay?”

  She diverted his fierce determination to make everything seem normal by turning away and pushing loose pins back into her hair. “Well, I’m sure your mother was never so coated with dirt and grime when she was here. I need a place to wash my hands and face at least, and perhaps you could leave me to undress and brush the dust from my clothes so I might be a bit more presentable.” She bent to see her reflection in a pedestal mirror on the dressing table. “I look a fright.”

  Trey stepped around her to open a narrow door and reveal a copper bathtub serviced by a pump. Then he opened the doors to the wardrobe. It was filled with women’s clothing.

  “I couldn’t,” Nell protested, guessing that these were clothes his mother or sisters had worn.

  “You can and you will,” Trey said softly. “Ma would insist.” He backed away toward the door open to the hall. “Shall I send Addie or Louisa to help you?” Suddenly shy, he was actually blushing. “I mean—”

  “I can manage,” she assured him, and then she rushed to him and pressed her cheek to his chest as she wrapped her arms around him. “We will manage, Trey. Together, we can see this through.” And for the first time since that morning, she felt a kernel of truth in that statement.

  They held each other for a long moment, both aware of the quiet voices in the courtyard, the hand tools at work once again in the barn, and the heaviness of sorrow that covered everything like the desert dust of Arizona.

  * * *

  After making sure Nell was settled, Trey went in search of Javier’s parents. There was much still to be explained, and yet he had no words. He heard Louisa singing a lullaby to her child as he passed the library. When he reached the kitchen, he was surprised to see the neighbor ladies gone and Juanita going about her routine. “I’ll get someone in to handle things for a while, Nita. You and Eduardo take some time.”

  She paused in the task of washing dishes but did not turn to him. “And what’s the point of that? Will it bring Javier back to us? Will it make one damn bit of difference what we do?”

  Her shoulders slumped and then began to shake, and he realized she was crying again. He couldn’t recall a time when Juanita had ever shown such emotion. Her strength in the face of adversity and tragedy had been the glue that held the family together. Now that she was the one in need of comforting, Trey did not know what to do.

  “Nita?” He attempted to place his hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged him off. She began scrubbing a skillet, rubbing it so hard that the veins in her bare forearms stood out below the rolled-back sleeves of her dress.

  “Nita, I am so sorry. I wish—”

  She flicked her eyes toward him and then immediately back to the pan. “You’ve always been a dreamer, Trey, but when dreams buck up against reality, reality will win. Every time. Two men are dead. Your new bride’s former husband is dead as well, and for what? Land? Power? Where does it end, Trey?” She clanged the wet pan down on the drain board and turned away. “I’ve got work to do, and so do you. We’ll be burying Javier day after tomorrow—you and your wife should be here.”

  Drying her hands on her apron, Juanita stepped outside and began shouting orders at her husband and chastising
a cowboy who was leaning on the corral fence talking to Rico. “Stop your jawing and get back to work,” she shouted. “Rico, time you and Louisa headed back to town. That baby needs to be put down for the night. Jess? Go home. You look like you’ve been rode hard and put away wet.”

  “Where’s Addie?” Trey asked.

  “She headed over to the Galway place. One of their hired hands came by to say Lottie Galway was not doing well.” She brushed past him as she headed for the library, and a minute later, he heard her talking softly to Louisa.

  Trey observed it all, but his mind was stuck on Juanita’s question: Where does it end?

  Just a few days earlier, he’d thought he could answer that. He had believed talk would be a start. He had trusted his union with Nell could eventually be a bridge to peace. He’d been wrong on both counts. As the largest landowner in the region, it was up to him to step up and make sure this went no further. His goal had gone beyond simply trying to end the range war. Now what mattered most was that Javier had not died in vain. He went to his office and sat at the same desk where his father had wrestled with the challenges of his time. He started listing the names of the ranchers in three columns: those who favored Pete’s way, those who were on the fence, and those who stood with him. The last column was the shortest.

  He expected all his fellow ranchers to attend Javier’s funeral, if for no other reason than their respect for Rico. Ever since Javier’s brother had taken over the blacksmithing and livery stable in town, he had proven himself to be someone all ranchers could rely upon when they needed help. Trey understood that his biggest problem was that the others didn’t trust him, and until they did, his hope to make Javier’s death mean something was a lost cause.

  By the time he left the office, Rico and his family had left, and so had Jess. Trey saddled his horse, aware that Juanita was watching him from the kitchen doorway. “Tell Nell I’ll be back,” he shouted as he rode away. He heard Juanita calling out to him but kept riding. He needed to clear his head and consider next steps, but after a while, he found himself heading to the Galway ranch.