Reese Read online

  The cougar shrieked again. Everyone’s eyes widened, then they ran for the river.

  *

  Idiot! Fool!

  He should have shot that cougar the first day he heard it.

  Reese ran ahead of the others. If they couldn’t keep up, so be it. He slid down the embankment into the belly of the river valley. His gaze searched the near side. No sign of the boys, but he did see a girl heading for the trees. Must be Rico’s little friend. How many kids were down here?

  “Psst!” He tried to get the child’s attention without shouting. She glanced his way and waved, smiling sweetly.

  He indicated with a sharp slash of his hand that she should come away from the trees. Her smile turned to a mulish scowl. Reese jabbed his finger toward the ground at his side and scowled right back. Thankfully, she began to creep in his direction.

  Now where were those blasted twins?

  A sound at the top of the embankment drew Reese’s attention. Mary and the Suttons, and apparently the rest of the town, had arrived. No one would come near him on any given morning, but let there be trouble and they poured from their houses like ants from a wet anthill.

  “Where are they?” Sutton shouted.

  Reese flinched at the volume. Mary rolled her eyes and whispered something to him.

  “I will not be quiet. I want my boys back.”

  “Then go get them yourself,” Reese muttered, though he knew that would never happen. As usual, when trouble reared its ugly head, Reese was elected to fix things.

  The cougar shrieked again, then appeared atop a boulder on the opposite side of the river. Reese narrowed his eyes. The boulder pressed up against the riverbank in such a way as to leave a small cave-like hole between the stone and the dirt. Inside that hole, Reese saw movement.

  He’d found the twins.

  The cougar’s head swung back and forth, as if it smelled the children but wasn’t certain where they hid.

  “Do something!” Sutton shouted.

  The cougar skittered backward and a low growl rumbled free. The boys screamed, “Papa!”

  Reese cursed as the cat’s head went up, then back down between shoulders hunched into a stalking position. The animal leaped from the boulder and paced in front of the opening, its intense interest now focused on the tiny cave.

  Just like a barn cat with a cornered mouse, the cougar swept its paw into the hole. The children cried out. The cat hunkered down, belly to the ground, rear in the air.

  “Shoot it!” Sutton screamed.

  “I can’t,” Reese said from between clenched teeth. “I might hit one of the boys.”

  Images flashed in his mind, there and then gone, of other boys, other dangers. Why did he have to be the one who ran to the rescue today? Why couldn’t it have been any of the others who didn’t have ghosts walking through their minds at the most inopportune times?

  The war had been over for five years, yet still he relived that past. He could do nothing about what had happened then, but he could do something now.

  Without another thought, Reese jumped into the river. The splash drew the cat’s attention in his direction.

  “Reese, no!” Mary cried.

  He faltered at the sound of her voice but forced his gaze to remain on the cougar, even though he wanted to reassure Mary. He didn’t want to die in front of her, or anyone else for that matter. Dying was best done alone.

  “Here!” He waved his arms.

  The animal swung its head between the cave and Reese, confused. Reese walked toward it, gun drawn. As soon as the cougar charged him and moved away from the boys, he would shoot. No more fooling around.

  After what seemed like a very long time but was probably only a moment, the animal realized it was easier to come after the fool waving at him rather than play cat and mouse with the twins. Muscles bunched beneath golden shoulders, and the cat crashed into the river. Reese sighted, but just as he was about to squeeze the trigger, the cougar veered in another direction.

  Reese spun. The little girl, Carrie, ran toward him, childishly oblivious to what was going on in any world but her own. Reese glanced at the cat bounding toward the child then swung his gun in that direction. He would have one shot.

  Rico jumped from the embankment, grabbed Carrie in his arms, and turned to run. The cat leaped.

  “Do something!” Sutton shouted

  Reese fired.

  The cougar’s front paws hit Rico in the back. Rico fell forward, body curled protectively over the child, the cat on top of them both.

  Nothing moved. Not even the cougar.

  “Was that the something you had in mind?” Reese’s voice sounded calm even as his heart thundered so loudly he could barely think, and faces flickered then danced before his eyes.

  He blinked several times, and they disappeared. He hadn’t had flashes of the past for a long time. Probably because he’d avoided homey towns, children, and good women, which seemed to provoke his memories.

  When his vision cleared and his heart settled back into a near normal rhythm, Reese glanced at Sutton, who, along with the rest of the town, stood atop the riverbank with mouths agape. Everyone stared at him as if he’d done something amazing.

  Reese rolled the cougar off the Kid, who turned over, bringing the child with him. Though Rico’s cocky grin was in place, the pale cast to his face made the bruise around his eye shine darker than before.

  “Nice shot.” Rico took Reese’s offered hand. In Rico’s other arm he held Carrie, and it didn’t appear as if he were going to let her go any time soon.

  “I’ve made worse.”

  “Don’t tell me that. I counted on you to save my miserable life.”

  “You saved hers.” The child clung to Rico, her face pressed to his throat. At least she seemed to understand the severity of the situation, albeit a bit late. “Looks like you’re a hero, Kid.”

  Rico’s gaze shifted. “Perhaps you should tell that to him.”

  Reese turned just in time to grab Brown in his headlong rush toward Rico. “I told him to leave her be.”

  Reese shoved the old man back. He’d had about all he could take from Brown, Sutton, and every other so-called man in town. No wonder Mary had to manage things. These fools were worthless.

  “If he had let her be, she’d be dead. Why is she wandering around before dawn by herself, anyway?”

  “How would I know? I can’t watch her every damn minute. She’s a sneak. She snuck out.”

  “Rico just saved her life. Look around. Anything out of place?”

  Brown glanced at the dead cougar, and his face creased. He peered at Rico. “You shoot that?”

  “Nope.”

  Reese gave Rico a dirty look. Why couldn’t the Kid shut up? “I shot it. But Rico put himself between your granddaughter and a charging cougar.” Reese frowned. “Must have been mad to attack this close to town. Or starving, though it’s not the time of year for that.”

  “Perhaps loco, mi capitan. I have seen such things before.”

  Reese grunted. Just what he needed—rabid wild animals surrounding a town full of cowards, kids, and women. Oh, and don’t forget El Diablo, who seemed to think the place was worth taking. If it wasn’t for Mary, Reese would give the old Indian Rock Creek on a platter.

  The scent of rainwater announced Mary’s approach and Reese turned. “Rico’s a hero. But so are you, Reese.” He shrugged. “Don’t pass this off. You made that cat run at you instead of the boys.”

  “Big deal. I had the gun.”

  “It seemed like a big deal to me. Everyone else thought so too.”

  Reese glanced at the embankment, but with the exception of the Suttons, who had gathered their wayward children and were hugging them and berating them in equal measure, everyone else had returned to town.

  The rest of the men—minus Cash, who must be in the tower—stood apart from the Suttons, staring at Reese, then Rico, and shaking their heads.

  “I suggest, Mr. Brown, that you thank these two men.
No one else did a thing.”

  “That’s not true,” Rico said. “Sutton shouted a lot.”

  Mary gave a delicate snort. “That’s what he does best.”

  Brown shuffled his feet, stared at the dirt, glanced at the river then back at the cougar. Finally, he sighed and stepped forward, holding out his arms. “Thanks. Now can I have my granddaughter?”

  Reese raised an eyebrow at Mary. She spread her hands. It was probably the best they were going to get from a cranky old coot like Brown.

  Rico kissed Carrie on the forehead and attempted to disentangle her arms from his neck.

  “No!” she shouted, clinging. “I want to stay with you.”

  “He has that effect on every woman he meets,” Reese said.

  “Not on me,” Mary murmured.

  *

  Mary had never been so frightened in her. Yet Reese, after that single moment when he’d looked confused and out of place, had reacted to every move the cougar with an eerie sort of calm. If it hadn’t been for him, tragedy would have dampened the bright spring day.

  How could anyone doubt any longer that she’d done the right thing in bringing these men to Rock Creek?

  Reese remained silent as they returned to town. At the outskirts, Mary paused. “Thank you for what you did. No one else could have managed.”

  “Not even you?”

  They shared a smile. “Not even me.”

  He lifted his face to the sun. “I guess our lesson is off for this morning.”

  “I have school.”

  Staring past her shoulder; first astonishment, then confusion, washed over Reese’s features. “What are they doing here?”

  Mary spun, half-afraid El Diablo and his men were lined up at her back. Instead, ten women with rifles stood in front of the hay bales. One of them was Jo Clancy, another was Rose Sutton, the rest were women Mary had begged to support her and been ignored.

  She pushed past Reese. “What’s going on?”

  Rose stared at the ground, then at Mary, and finally at Reese. “We decided if these men can risk their lives for our children, the least we can do is help fight for our town.”

  Mary glanced at Jo. “I thought Nate needed you more and that you were forbidden to touch a weapon.”

  “I’m forbidden a lot of things. That’s never stopped me before. I shouldn’t have let it stop me this time, either.”

  The other women nodded and turned their attention to Reese. Mary did too and caught his stunned expression.

  “What’s the matter?” she whispered.

  “They trust me?”

  “Appears so.”

  “Why?”

  “You saved the children.” He winced and clutched his belly. Mary set her hand over his. Reese’s fingers were ice cold. “Are you ill?”

  “No.” He stepped away from her touch. “I’ll be all right once I start teaching.” His face contracted on the last word.

  Mary reached for him again, but he already strode toward the women.

  “I say Reese was a circus performer. Having a crazed cougar out for his blood didn’t even make him breathe hard.”

  Reese’s men stood a few feet away in a semicircle, heads together. Rico held a piece of paper with a stub of pencil poised to write.

  “Perhaps a marksman in a traveling show. The circus is too ordinary for el capitan.”

  “What are you doing?” Mary demanded.

  Nate took a drink before winking at her. “Changing our bets.”

  “Bets on what?”

  “El capitan.” Rico scribbled on the paper, his pretty face scrunched into an expression of intense concentration, which reminded Mary of Carrie at work on her sums. His poor eye appeared worse today than on the day it had happened.

  “Explain yourselves.”

  The ice in her tone caused Rico to glance up. “We have a running wager on el capitan’s name, along with what he was before he became who he is now.”

  “None of you know a single thing about him?”

  “If we knew, what fun would it be to wager? Would you like to place a bet, Miss McKendrick?”

  “Rico.” Sullivan’s voice held a warning.

  “What? Perhaps she has a better guess than any of us.”

  “I thought you were all in the war together?”

  “Not the entire war,” Nate said. “We met a year or so before Gettysburg.”

  Mary glanced at Reese, who walked down the line of women, patiently explaining to them, one by one, how to load their guns. Then she returned her attention to the four men in front of her. “He could be anyone, have done anything. Why do you follow him?”

  With deliberate motions, Rico put the paper and pencil into his pocket, then straightened to his full height. “You ask why we follow him?” His gaze went to Reese. “I say, how can we not?”

  *

  El Diablo was old, but he had always possessed the eyes of a hawk. This had given him the name Tosa nakaai while a child. But his name dream had whispered Tuhkwasi taiboo? Satan. And since one’s true name held great power, he had tried to live up to that distinction.

  “What is he doing?”

  El Diablo’s lips tightened. Jefferson had his gifts. Intelligence was not one of them. Which was why El Diablo had allowed him to live this long.

  “Teaching the women how to use their guns.”

  Jefferson snorted. “What an idiot.”

  “This could be a problem,” El Diablo murmured.

  “Women? They’ll fall like split wood.”

  El Diablo didn’t answer. From the moment he’d peered into the green eyes of the man in black, he’d been uneasy. He knew a leader when he saw one. He’d seen the power in the teacher lady right off.

  Unfortunately for her, she had the body of a woman, and the white eyes were too foolish to see past her shell. A happy mistake for El Diablo. Unhappily, she’d had the foresight to hunt down someone who appeared quite troublesome.

  Some men must be taught to lead, and some were born with leadership in their soul. The one called Reese was the latter. No matter what he did, others would follow.

  Just as they followed El Diablo.

  This still would not have been a problem. El Diablo could keep throwing bodies at Rock Creek for a long, long time. Men paid to fight would give up and leave eventually, once the money ran out. These six had no stake in a dusty Texas town.

  But El Diablo had been watching, and he didn’t like what he saw. The hired guns and the town were becoming one.

  At first, the townsfolk had held themselves aloof from their rescuers. This morning’s incident with the cougar had put a crack in that barrier, and the people were beginning to follow Reese, just as his men did. Together, the six hired guns and the town would become a serious threat to what El Diablo had in mind.

  With a leader and enough guns, Rock Creek could hold on longer than El Diablo. When a town became a home rather than a place to sleep, attacking it only made things worse. Folks defended their homes with all that they had. El Diablo knew that better than anyone.

  Look at the foolish war the white eyes had fought only five summers past. The bluecoats had invaded the land of the gray, and the war had dragged on and on and on. Because the graycoats had defended their homes until there was nothing left to defend but dust.

  “The one called Reese is the key,” El Diablo said. “He is the one they respect. The one they will follow. If we can get rid of him, the others will scatter.”

  “How do we get to him?”

  The teacher moved off toward the schoolhouse, and the man in black watched her until she disappeared inside.

  El Diablo just smiled.

  Chapter 13

  Each morning, Reese taught the women. Sometimes Rico or one of the others helped—never Cash, of course, and that was probably for the best, considering the nature of those being taught.

  The women learned quickly, now that they’d decided to, and while he missed spending that hour after dawn with Mary alone, having the town
sfolk accept him made life in Rock Creek a lot less tense.

  El Diablo had not returned. Reese had hopes that by the time he did, the women would be ready, and the combination of them, the older men and injured soldiers, along with Reese’s men would convince the old Indian that continued attacks would be fruitless.

  He hoped, but he didn’t really believe.

  They would have to kill a few more banditos before they made their point—maybe even the two top banditos. One of the first rules of war was to take down the leader if you could. Often that was all it took to make the rest run. Reese knew that better than anyone.

  So if things were going well on the outside, why did Reese feel so awful on the inside?

  Perhaps it was because the nightmares had returned; he was exhausted. Or perhaps it was because as soon as school let out every day, hell followed wherever he went.

  Reese hid in the stall with Atlanta. He wasn’t proud. If hiding kept him away from them, he’d stay in here all night.

  Besides, he hadn’t been paying nearly enough attention to his horse, as evidenced by the way Atlanta kept running his big nose down Reese’s back and shoving him into the far wall.

  Reese rubbed between the animal’s eyes. He had named his horse Atlanta so he would remember the past. Not Sherman’s march or the burning of Reese’s hometown—as if that could ever be forgotten—but what Atlanta symbolized.

  Reese’s mistakes, his failures, his dead dreams. If he rode a horse every day named for the place that reminded him of those things, maybe he wouldn’t make the same mistakes, fail so utterly again, or ever bother to dream.

  But here, in Rock Creek, he had not been spending enough time with the animal, and therefore he’d begun to dream impossible dreams. The ones where he had a future—a life, a family, even a wife.

  The morning at the creek had reminded Reese how foolish such thoughts were. The entire town looked at him as if he were a hero because he’d saved those children. But they’d never have been in danger at all if he’d done what he should have and hunted down the cougar the first time he’d heard the animal scream.

  Little mistakes like that could ruin a whole eternity.

  “Nice horse.”

  “Yeah, nice horse.”