Comanche Eagle Page 16

  “It’s sinful for you to teach him to fight,” she accused, too aware of Travis standing close to her and too conscious of his hands on her shoulders. She wasn’t going to win any argument with him standing so close and looking at her so intently.

  “Would you rather someone like Slim or Virgil beat him into unconsciousness?” Travis ran his finger along her throat and his gaze drifted over her features. Crystal could barely get her breath.

  “No, of course not,” she whispered, too aware of the wild tingles stirred by his touch. He stood close, and his dark eyes pulled on her senses. She wanted to feel his arms wrap around her; she wanted him to kiss her! Disturbed by her wanton desire, she tried to move away from him but couldn’t. His warm fingers drifted back and forth on her neck. “I don’t want him beaten, but it doesn’t seem right for you to deliberately show him how to fight. And you gave him a black eye!”

  “Next time he’ll know to duck,” Travis said quietly. “And sometime soon, I need to show you how to use that revolver before you take it down and do some damage with it.”

  “Since I moved in, I have only needed it when we had the fire. I don’t see why I should have to know anything else about it.”

  “You and Jacob are alone here, and sometimes the men and I are damned far from the house. You’re Jacob’s only protection and, just like Zachary, you should know how to take care of yourself.”

  “I can take care of myself,” she protested, annoyed with him and flustered by her racing pulse. “And you’re changing the subject. We were talking about the evils of your teaching Zachary to fight. How could you hit that child?”

  Travis grinned, revealing his even white teeth and infectious smile. “You can’t imagine how insulted he would be to hear you call him a child.”

  “He’s a boy next to you and Turtle River,” she whispered without realizing she had said anything. They stared at each other and this time it felt as if her heart had stopped although she was aware that he was gazing back just as intently at her. Silence stretched between them. Could his pulse be racing like hers?

  “I think you frightened Turtle River and Zachary into skipping supper,” Travis remarked finally in a husky voice.

  “Surely not,” she replied, but she was still caught in his dark gaze. As the moment lengthened, Travis studied her. The air all but crackled between them. What was happening? Why didn’t he move? Was he as ensnared as she? Then he turned away, and she decided her imagination had been running wild.

  “If we’re ready to eat, I’ll get the others.”

  “Fine,” she answered, barely speaking and not caring whether she ate or not. Travis had won that argument so easily. One smile and she was as mushy as her potatoes. Annoyed with herself as well as with him, she threw up her hands.

  And just as she threw up her hands, Travis reached the door and glanced over his shoulder at her. His brows arched. “Did you say something, Crystal?”

  “I will never understand men or the violence they love,” she snapped and jerked the lid off a pot on the stove. With a deep chuckle, Travis disappeared outside; she could hear the rumble of his voice as he talked to Zachary and Turtle River. One of the men laughed.

  She picked up a knife to loosen a loaf of bread from the pan. She sliced it furiously, thinking that when she had argued with Travis, she had been softer than butter. Let them all beat each other to unconsciousness! She would stop interfering where she wasn’t wanted or listened to.

  Annoyed, she watched them file in while she placed a platter on the table. It held slices of steaming roast and hot potatoes. She put a bowl on the table with ears of golden corn, one of the few things she could cook without ruin. Steam rose from the thick slices of bread. Surprising her, Travis held her chair and his fingers brushed lightly across her shoulders in a brief, disturbing contact she was sure he didn’t notice.

  When they passed dishes of food around the table, their hands brushed. Zachary chatted brightly about the events of the day, the progress of the barn, the wild horses that Travis and Turtle River were breaking, and how patient they were. Throughout supper, she caught Travis studying her speculatively; and each time, she looked away, a flush rising in her cheeks.

  Afterwards, when they began the reading lesson, she was even more conscious of him. As always, he shed his shirt and sat beside her. Turtle River held Jacob and then passed him to Travis. Why did she have this volatile reaction to Travis? A reaction the other males didn’t stir. She didn’t understand her own feelings, but there was no denying them, and tonight every brush against his hands was as disturbing as a brush against a flame.

  All three men were learning swiftly, each striving to keep up with the other. They readily grasped what she taught them and took to reading eagerly.

  After an hour they always stopped the lesson and Crystal read from Ellery’s dime novels by Beadle about the West. The stories were too wild and too much like Cheyenne for her to enjoy them, but her three pupils seemed as enthralled with the stories as Ellery had been.

  As she read, she was acutely aware of Travis listening, his dark gaze steadily on her. When he was concentrating, he could be as still as a stone; and now he was quiet, his long legs stretched out, her skirt slightly over his boot. She felt drawn to glance up and she met his gaze, catching his dark eyes drifting down over her and back up. She gripped her book and tried to focus on what she was reading. He was remembering again! She felt heat flush her face, and she kept her head bowed over the pages as she read.

  She closed the book. “My voice is tiring, and I hear Jacob stirring.”

  “We’ll stop,” Travis said, standing easily. “I’ll take care of Jacob, and you may have a rest. Besides, it’s time for the piano.”

  Startled, she looked at Travis. He had never mentioned her playing and she didn’t know whether he was indifferent to it or whether he enjoyed it. She and Zachary moved to the piano to play and sing; yet tonight, she was aware that Travis was listening.

  She wondered how their routine evenings would change when fall and winter set in. It was late August now and Travis had started sleeping inside. He came in after she was asleep and left before she awoke; but if she stirred during the night, she saw him on the far side of the bed.

  The next morning when she stepped out of bed, he was gone. She dressed, fixed breakfast for Jacob and herself, and then began to clean. Jacob was on a blanket spread on the floor inside the house. When she stepped outside to shake the counterpane, she saw a stranger riding toward the house, leading a riderless horse behind him.

  Surprised, she watched the man and glanced at the barn where she expected to see Travis and Zachary working, but no one was in sight. She went inside to put down the counterpane, and then she stood on tiptoe to take the big revolver from the shelf.

  Jacob was busy chewing on a rag doll she had made for him. She placed him in a large basket filled with a big pillow and carried it to the porch where she could see him while she walked down the steps to wait, keeping the revolver at her side in the folds of her skirt.

  The man rode at an easy gait, but she noticed the horse was a sad-looking animal with ribs showing. The man had a rifle across his saddle.

  She glanced uneasily over her shoulder again, but there still was no sign of the men. As the stranger drew near, her misgivings increased when she saw that he wore a shirt spotted with tobacco stains. His pants had tears and his hat was battered and stained. He had a sandy beard and a long narrow face that ignited a faint memory. Then she realized she might be looking at Zachary’s father.

  Her heart thudded and she tightened her fingers around the revolver. By law, he had every right to take Zachary home with him. But she didn’t want to give Zachary up. She was torn between what she knew was the absolute law and what her heart screamed for her to do.

  The man approached slowly, and when he got fifty yards away, her qualms increased.

  “Good morning, ma’am.”

  “Hello.” She wanted to snatch up Jacob, fire the revolve
r twice to bring Travis, and run inside. Instead, she stood her ground.

  “Are you Judge Black Eagle?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I’m Eb North. I’m looking for my son, Zachary North, and I’ve heard he’s living out here on your place.”

  Eleven

  The moment she had dreaded had come. Crystal’s mind raced and her emotions warred. She wanted to raise the revolver and order the man off the place. At the same time, he had a legal right to claim his son. A man had full rights over his wife, his children, and his belongings. Short of killing, he could do with them as he pleased, and far too often, killing was excused in court.

  The man waited for her response. He spit a wad of tobacco to one side, his gaze raking over her.

  “I heard about you, Judge. Ask anyone in town and they say you stick to the law. And the law says that boy is mine.”

  She remembered Zachary’s beaten body. If they hadn’t found him, he would have died out on the plains. And it would have been because of this man who wanted to take him home and would probably inflict the same kind of punishment again.

  “You nearly killed him,” she said, hating the man and hating the law that said she had to give his son back to him. She had to follow the law. It was the strength of her life and everything she believed in.

  “So, he’s here. Where is he now?”

  “He’s working.”

  “And you know I can take him back with me, no matter what he’s said to you. The boy lies something terrible.”

  “He hasn’t lied to any of us,” she said, stalling because she hated to get Zachary and watch him ride away. Travis wanted to know, too, when Zachary’s father appeared, but she didn’t want to tell him because she knew he would fight Eb North.

  “You go get my son.”

  “They don’t come in until supper time,” she said, regretting the admission that she and Jacob were alone.

  “You can get him if you want to. Just take that little baby and go get him. Unless you’re inviting me in to wait,” he said, grinning at her and making her skin crawl.

  “There’s no law that says I have to allow you in my house!”

  “There is a law that says that boy is mine. Go get him.”

  She couldn’t bear the thought of handing Zachary over to this man, but she had no choice. If she refused, all this odious man had to do was ride into Cheyenne, get the sheriff, and return. Wade Hinckel would have to uphold a father’s rights.

  Defeated and fighting tears, she turned toward the house.

  “Well, well,” he said, staring beyond her and taking his rifle in hand. He swung down off his horse and came forward.

  When she glanced over her shoulder, her heart thudded. Zachary was striding toward them, Travis and Turtle River behind him.

  They stopped only yards away. “Crystal, take care of Jacob,” Travis said, moving forward.

  “You can’t stop me from getting my boy,” North said as Crystal hurried to the porch.

  Zachary stepped in front of Travis. “Sir,” he said. He moved toward his father.

  “Let’s go home, boy,” the man said, his gaze sliding to Travis. He motioned toward a gray horse. “I brought the pony for you.”

  Fists clenched, Zachary walked up to his father. Crystal watched him, her gaze flicking back to Travis, who stood with his fists clenched and a muscle working in his jaw. He was poised to go after Eb North.

  “Are you afraid to face me without that rifle?” Zachary asked, his words carrying clearly.

  Eb North scowled and spit tobacco at Zachary’s feet, splattering his boots. “Get on the horse.”

  Zachary stepped forward and slammed his fist into his father’s stomach. Crystal gasped. “No!” Eb North doubled over, coughing, his face turning crimson.

  “You little bastard,” he snarled, swinging the rifle and striking Zachary with the butt, driving him to the ground; then he kicked him in the ribs.

  “Stop him,” she cried and raised the revolver. Travis was at her side in a flash. His fingers curved around her wrist like iron and he yanked the revolver from her hands.

  “Leave them alone,” he ordered grimly. “Just wait.”

  “He’ll kill Zachary,” she protested.

  “Give the boy a chance.”

  Zachary rolled away and came to his feet, swaying, blood streaming down his face from the blow on his temple.

  Eb North swung the rifle again. This time Zachary ducked, then grabbed the weapon and yanked it from his father’s grasp. He flung it away and it sailed high in the sunlight and fell into the grass far from the men.

  “You’ll regret the day you were born,” Eb said and swung.

  Zachary ducked and then struck his father. He swung his right fist and landed another solid punch in Eb’s middle; then he moved in, kneeing him and pounding his head. To her amazement he ducked blows and hammered away at the older man until Eb North fell and rolled away.

  He scrambled to his feet and ran to retrieve his rifle. Crystal gasped as Travis strode forward, raising the revolver. “Get in the house!” he snapped without looking at her.

  Eb North started to raise his rifle and aim. Turtle River pulled back the hammer of his revolver. The click was a small sound, but Eb North froze and then slowly lowered his rifle.

  Crystal stood rooted to the porch, watching as Eb North stomped to his horse and hauled himself into the saddle. “You’ll regret this!” he shouted, shaking his fist. His face was covered in blood. “You sonuvabitch!” He dropped into the saddle and turned the horses, urging them to a gallop.

  As Zachary swayed, Crystal rushed to him. “Come inside. I’ll wash your cuts.”

  “You stood up to him.” Travis clamped a hand on Zachary’s shoulder. “It won’t ever be the same.”

  “No, sir, it sure as hell won’t. Pardon, Crystal.”

  Crystal was relieved Zachary had not had to go with the dreadful man, yet she was certain Eb North would return with the law on his side. She put her arm around Zachary to help him inside. While Travis stood by with his hands on his hips, she fluttered around Zachary, washing his cuts.

  “Are you all right?” Travis asked.

  “Yes.”

  “There’s no need for you to run.”

  “He might be back,” Zachary said.

  “I don’t think he will. I saw his face when you hit him. He was surprised more than anything else. Now he knows you’ve grown into a man, and it’ll never be the same. You can run if you want; but if you go, take one of the horses and let Crystal pack food.”

  Zachary nodded. “Thanks. I don’t want to leave, but I don’t want to bring trouble here.”

  “You won’t bring trouble,” Travis said. “We’re not afraid for you to stay.”

  Zachary nodded and looked at Crystal, his gaze going over her features. “Then I’m staying.”

  “I’ll go back to work,” Travis said and went outside.

  Crystal dabbed at his cut face. “Zachary, do you have brothers and sisters?”

  “Yes, but they’re all older and have run away. I haven’t seen any of them for over two years.”

  “Sorry.”

  “We’ll find each other. I’m close to one brother and one sister.”

  “There,” Crystal said, stepping back. “I’m sure Turtle River will give you something to put on your cuts.”

  “Thanks, Crystal,” he said, squinting at her with one eye and shaking his long brown hair away from his face. The other eye had puffed shut. Impulsively, she reached out to hug him, wondering how many hugs he had received as a boy.

  “I’m sorry you’ve had that trouble.”

  He placed his arm around her lightly and held her a moment. “Thanks, Crystal,” he repeated and stepped away, looking intently at her with one blue eye. “All three of you have been good to me.”

  She watched him head back to work, wondering how he would be able to do much in the shape he was in.

  Jacob began to fuss and she picked him up, hugging
him. “Thank heavens you’ll never be mistreated. And I’m not going to allow your father to teach you to fight. I just won’t allow it!”

  Jacob gazed at her solemnly, pursing his lips and making odd sounds, and Crystal held him close, looking down the road and praying that Eb North never rode back for Zachary.

  Saturday, late in the day, Travis appeared with Zachary and Turtle River. It was far earlier than he usually returned home and she became aware of her dishevelled appearance. Her hair curled around her face, tendrils springing free from the long braid that hung down her back. She had her red calico sleeves pushed high. Travis was bare-chested, and she suspected he was more comfortable that way. She watched him reach up and get Ellery’s revolver. “Turtle River will stay with Jacob. Zachary wants to learn to shoot, and it’s time you learn, too, Crystal.”

  She started to object, then thought about being alone with the baby and nodded, untying her apron and leaving with a glance at Jacob, who was napping.

  They walked away from the house and Travis set up bottles, standing between the two of them and showing them how to aim and fire. He gave the revolver to Zachary, who missed the first three times and then hit a bottle while Travis gave him instructions on his aim. He hit another bottle with the next shot, missed again, and then clicked the empty revolver.

  Travis took the weapon to show them how to reload. Watching avidly, Zachary leaned forward. Crystal could not imagine firing the terrible thing enough to have to reload, but she watched. Then Travis handed her the revolver.

  She took it carefully and held it up with both hands, her arms wavering. Travis stepped behind her to hold her arms steady.

  “Now, get the sight on your target,” he instructed. His voice was quiet; his breath fanned her ear. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her wrists, and her pulse raced from his nearness. She barely thought about the weapon.

  “Just squeeze the trigger.”

  She pulled and the blast was deafening. He held her hands steady. “I missed. I don’t think I can ever hit a tiny bottle.”