Elizabeth Lowell - Only His

An odd yearning went through Willow as she saw the way that Rose and Eddy looked at each other. It had been a long time since Willow had dreamed of sharing her life with anyone. Even then, she had been to young to understand what such sharing truly meant. At sixteen, a girl knew little of life except an impatience to get on with living it.

But the war had come, Steven had been killed, and Willow had learned that life was an endurance contest with no winners, just survivors.

«You’ll get over the war,» Rose continued, patting Willow’s hand. «Your man will get you with child and you’ll forget this foolishness about homesteading and taking care of yourself. The good Lord knew what He was doing when He made woman for man.»

Caleb leaned back in his chair. «Save your sympathy for someone who needs it. All Mrs. Moran needs is a guide to get her to Matthew Moran.»

«Will you do it?» Eddy asked.

«Might as well,» Caleb said with an appearance of indifference. «I’m heading for the San Juan country anyway.»

«Good,» Eddy said, relieved. «I would do it myself, but that damned stud…» He looked Caleb in the eye. «I’m glad word caught up with you. I wasn’t sure whether you were down to Yuma or up to Wyoming Territory.»

«The emptier the land, the faster gossip travels,» Caleb said. «I was hunting with WolfeLonetree when a tinker came to camp and said you needed me to guide Mrs. Matthew Moran to her husband.»

«Lonetree, huh?» Eddy grunted. «No wonder word got to you so fast. If a bug crawls anywhere in the territory, thathalfbreed knows it.» Eddy pulled out his watch and squinted at it. «Rose, if we don’t get to the dining room, some youngfiddlefoot will take our table.» As he pocketed the watch once more, he looked at Willow with shrewd, dark eyes. «Now that you’ve met Cal, are you satisfied with the arrangement, Mrs. Moran?»

After a barely perceptible hesitation, Willow nodded, for she didn’t trust herself to speak. Her unhappiness would have been clear in her voice. Yet it wasn’t Caleb’s competence as a guide she doubted, nor was it his innate honesty. It was his effect on her that made her hesitate. He made her intensely aware of herself as a woman, yet at the same time he made no attempt to conceal his dislike of her. The combination was disconcerting.

I’m justtired, Willowreassured herselfsilently. Awarm bath and a night of sleep will make all the difference in the world. I’ve come too far to turn back because of a rough stranger who makes me feel like a clumsy girl. Besides, there’s nothing to go back to. Mama was right. The dreams she and Papa had died with the land. I can’t go home again. I can only try to find a new home and build a new dream.

«Mrs. Moran,» Eddy said, rising slowly, «I leave you in good hands.»

«Thank you. If I can ever repay your kindness —»

«Nonsense,» Eddy interrupted firmly. «Your husband’s father sold me the best horse I ever owned. Saved my life more than once. If I can help his kin, I’m happy to do it.»

Eddy adjusted his coat over the pistol he wore and bowed over Willow’s hand before turning to Caleb. «I’d tell you to be careful of the little lady, but if I didn’t think you would be I’d never have mentioned your name to her. And if I hear anything about a drifter called Reno, I’ll be sure to let you know.»

Caleb shot a sideways glance at Willow. She didn’t react to the nickname, which meant that she was a fine actress or she knew her «husband» only as Matthew Moran.

«You do that, Eddy.» Caleb turned to Rose, bowed over her hand, and said, «Take care of him, Rose. And keep him off that damned yellow stud.»

Silently Willow and Caleb watched the couple leave. Despite Eddy’s effort to conceal his stiffness, it was apparent that he was in pain.

«Will he be all right?» Willow asked softly.

«As long as his old enemies don’t find him until he heals up, he’ll be fine.»

«Enemies?»

«Eddy wore a lawman’s badge in some bad places. A man who does that makes enemies.» Caleb turned his bleak, golden glance on Willow. «Where are your horses?»

«At the livery stable down the street.»

«Leave them there. I’ll provide you with a horse that won’t quit the first time the going gets hard.»

«That’s very kind of you, but —»

«I’m not a kind man,» Caleb interrupted roughly, «I’m a practical one. Where we’re going, a delicate, nervous, over-bred horse will be a hell of a lot more trouble than it’s worth.»

«My Arabians are well-bred, not over-bred, and I’ll put them up against anything you own for stamina.»

Caleb said something harsh under his breath. «Where in the San Juan country do you want to go?»

«The part with mountains.»

«Ma’am,» Caleb said dryly, «there’s no part of the San Juan country that doesn’t have mountains. Which peak did you have in mind?»

«I’ll tell you when we get there.»

«Southern lady, if we take your fancy horses, we won’t ever get there at all.»

Before Willow could respond, there was a commotion from the direction of the dining room. In the spreading silence of the lobby, a man’s voice boomed out.

«You and your second-hand woman can just wait for the next table, old man. In fact, you can damn well wait until me and my friends are finished eating. I don’t want that slut sitting in the same room with me.»

Appalled, Willow turned and looked toward the dining room. An instant later she realized that Eddy and Rose were being confronted by four young men, all of whom wore pistols. A murmur went through the crowd as people backed away from the confrontation. Willow sorted out a few of the muttered words, something about gunmen and Rose refusing to let Slater’s kid brother stay at her boarding house.

Caleb heard the mutterings, too, but he already knew what was going on. He had known since the back of his neck had tightened in an age-old warning of danger and he had spun around to see trouble closing in on his friends. If Eddy had been well, Caleb simply would have walked over to act as an unofficial referee, ensuring that the kid’s friends didn’t interfere with whatever happened between the old lawman and the young outlaw.

But Eddy wasn’t well. He was injured and Johnny Slater knew it. Eddy knew it, too. He had a choice — he could let Rose be insulted or he could try to draw his pistol with his injured right hand. He might attempt a left-handed draw, even though the gun butt was facing the wrong way. No matter which hand, he quite likely would die before the gun barrel cleared the holster.

«No!» Rose said urgently. She stepped in front of Eddy, turning her back on the young tough who had insulted her. «You can’t even hold a fork, much less a gun!»

Before Rose finished speaking, Caleb’s big hand closed on Johnny Slater’s shoulder, spinning him around.

«You’ve got a bad mouth, kid. Folks around Denver are tired of listening to it. Now you can apologize to Mrs. Sorenson and drag your freight out of town or you can go for one of those fancy guns you’re wearing.»

Surprise turned to dismay when Johnny measured the dark promise in Caleb’s eyes. It was one thing to yell across twenty feet of crowded room at an injured man who could barely draw a gun. It was another to face a man belt buckle to belt buckle, a man who was neither injured nor afraid, a man who didn’t give a damn about Kid Slater’s reputation as a gunman with a fast draw and a vicious older brother to back him up.

Johnny Slater began sweating. He looked quickly to his friends, only to discover they were watching him with arms folded, clearly expecting him to take care of the interruption himself.

«Make up your mind, kid,» Caleb said.

The cool impatience in Caleb’s voice made Johnny flinch slightly. His hand crept closer to his pistol, hesitated, crept again. He looked into Caleb’s eyes again and froze.

Caleb made a sound of disgust. «Your older brother may be a real curly wolf, but you’re pure coyote. Apologize to the lady, Kid Coyote.»

«I’m damned if I’m going to apologize to a —»

Caleb slapped Johnny before he could finish the sentence. The open-handed blow was so quick it was almost invisible. It rocked Johnny’s head on his shoulders, sending his fine hat flying. Before Johnny realized what had happened, it was too late. Caleb was slapping him with slow, measured motions, blows that humiliated as much as they hurt; but it was the contemptuous words that hurt most of all.

«Kid Coyote, sneaking around,» Caleb said. «This is for every man you ever shot in theback.»Slap. «For every woman you everinsulted.»Slap. «For every baby you ever stole candyfrom.»Slap. «Now take off your guns, Kid Coyote.»

«What?» Johnny asked, shaking his head, unable to believe what was happening to him.

«Take off yourgunbelts and drop them on the floor.»

Johnny reached for his firstgunbelt with hands made clumsy by a combination of rage and fear. «You’re a dead man, whoever you are! My brother will kill you for this!»

The firstgunbelt hit the floor.

«Any time Slater feels lucky,» Caleb said calmly, «you tell him to ask for Caleb Black.»

The secondgunbelt hit the floor.

«If people don’t know that name,» Caleb continued «tell your brother to ask for the Man from Yuma. As for you, Kid Coyote, you’d be smart never to wear a gun again. Those who live by the sword die by the sword. And you’ll die, kid. If I see you wearing iron anywhere, anytime, I’ll draw down on you and kill you where you stand. Hear me?»

Sullenly, Johnny nodded.

«It’s the only warning you’ll get and one more than you deserve.» Caleb turned away and faced Johnny’s friends. He looked at each one for a long moment, memorizing the faces of his new enemies. Caleb recognized one of them, a bounty hunter and claim jumper from the San Juan mountains. «Shuck those irons, boys.»

Moregunbelts thudded to the floor.

«You’re running in bad company, but it’s a free country. Don’t know how you stand the smell, though.» Caleb tilted his head toward the street. «Get out.»

Radiating frustrated anger, Johnny and his friends left. Not until the door closed behind the last gunman did a ripple of excited talk run through the crowd, speculations and surmises spoken back and forth, another incident added to the growing legend of the Man from Yuma.

Willow made no sound at all. She simply let out her breath and withdrew her hand from the leather-lined pocket of her silk dress where the derringer had lain cold against her palm.

After a few moments people went back to doing whatever they had been doing before Caleb had called Johnny Slater’s bluff. Everyone except Willow walked in a wide circle around the discardedgunbelts and the big man whose eyes were the clear, burning gold of amountion lion’s eyes — or an avenging angel’s.

Caleb turned to Rose. «I’m sorry you had to hear that filth,» he said simply.

Rose tried to speak, smiled tremulously, and managed to whisper, «You’re a good man, Caleb Black. There will always be a place set for you at my table.»

Caleb smiled and touched the widow’s pale cheek with a gentle affection that astonished Willow.

«Thanks,» Eddy said simply to Caleb. «I owe you.»

Caleb shook his head. «You’re the best thing that ever happened to Rose. That’s all the payment I need.»

«Johnny willbackshoot you some day,» Eddy said matter-of-factly. «You should have killed him when you had the chance.»

«There were too many women in the room to start shooting. A wild shot…»

«You’re not a wild shooter.»

With a shrug, Caleb began picking upgunbelts. «Johnny is a foul-mouthed polecat, but he hasn’t killed any of my kin. He insulted Rose and I insulted him. As far as I’m concerned, that’s the end of it.»

«An eye for an eye,» Willow murmured, watching Caleb. «Is that your Western code?»

He straightened and turned toward her with swift, predatory grace. «Not my code, southern lady. God’s. ‘And if any mischief follow, thoushalt give life for life, /Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, /Burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe. ’»

The intensity in Caleb’s voice made Willow shiver. «What about forgiveness?» she asked. «What about turning the other cheek?»

«That’s a luxury for city folks who have enough policemen to take care of scum like Kid Coyote. Denver doesn’t have that much law yet. Where I’m taking you there’s no law at all. If a man turns his other cheek, he gets slapped again, harder, until he either fights or stops calling himself a man. Out in those mountains a man takes care of himself because no one else will do it for him.»