Dashing Druid (Texas Druids) Read online

  “Aye,” Tye muttered as Del strode away. Mounting up, he didn’t for a minute believe Lil would ‘settle down’. Nor did he think Del would hesitate to kill him if he knew his daughter had already given herself to him without benefit of marriage. Either that or he’d drag the two of them before the nearest preacher.

  * * *

  Several nights later, Lil lay back against the small rise of ground at her back and stared at the night sky. She’d walked out from camp, tired of the men’s jokes and laughter. It seemed everything rubbed her the wrong way lately.

  Tye was the reason. After his callous remark about those Comanches they’d met, she ought to dash him from her head, but how could she when there was still a chance she might carry his child? More than that, the memory of his lovemaking tormented her, and feeling him watch her like a hungry hawk every chance he got only made it worse. Damn his blue Irish eyes!

  “What are you doing out here by your lonesome?” her father asked from out of the darkness, making her jump and sit up.

  “I . . . I’m just enjoying the quiet. It’s peaceful.”

  He sat down beside her with a sigh. Fishing his makings out of a shirt pocket, he built a smoke by touch in the dark.

  “You like it quiet, do you? Seems to me you used to enjoy listening to the boys spin tall tales around the fire. You turning into one of them recluses all of a sudden?”

  “Of course not. I just wanted a little time to myself.”

  “Time to mope over Devlin, you mean.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” Lil snapped as he struck a match.

  “Don’t lie. You never were much good at it. And stop treating that boy like a pile of cow chips. He didn’t mean anything by what he said about them durn Comanches. And he saved your hide back at the Red, case you forgot.”

  Lil sprang to her feet. “I haven’t forgotten anything. I haven’t forgotten he’s a Yankee and he’s Jessie Taylor’s brother. Or that you’ve ordered me to stay away from him more times than I can remember.”

  He puffed on his cigarette and said gruffly, “Well, I was wrong. Already told him so. Now I’m telling you.”

  “But . . . but he’s Irish. You know how Ma feels –”

  “I’ll handle your ma. She’ll listen to reason once I explain.”

  “Explain what? Pa, I figured you had some crazy idea in your head about me and Tye when you moved him off drag. But I don’t understand why. What’s gotten into you?”

  He chuckled. “Some good sense, I hope. Could be I want me a few grandbabies before I die, too.”

  Lil’s jaw sagged. This was all too much for her.

  “Or maybe I just wanta see my little girl marry the man she loves,” he added quietly.

  “Love! I don’t love him. And he sure doesn’t love me.”

  “Well now, I ain’t so sure about that, but we’ll see. It’s a ways to Wichita. Oughta give you two time to work things out.”

  “There’s nothing to work out! And you’re just as dadblamed loco as he is!” Whirling, Lil stomped toward camp with her father’s laughter making her ears burn.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  They were nearing the Washita River when Choctaw Jack reported finding a fresh grave just this side of the river. The news put everyone, including Lil, in a somber mood. Some unlucky cowboy had danced his last, and any one of them could be in his place.

  Reaching the river late in the day, they bedded the herd down and took turns paying their respects to the dead. The grave was located on a hillock overlooking the river. When Lil rode up with Neil, Tye stood staring at the stone-covered mound, hat in hand. He looked up as she dismounted, and his anguished expression made her catch her breath. Then he pivoted and strode off along the riverbank without saying a word.

  Stunned, Lil joined Neil beside the grave, wondering at Tye’s tormented look. The cause had to be something more than the death of a man he’d never met. Moments later, she followed Neil back to the horses, but as he remounted, she stopped to gaze upstream the way Tye had gone. She glanced up at her companion.

  “Why don’t you go ahead. I’ll be along in a little bit.”

  He raised a sandy eyebrow and smiled in understanding. “As ye wish, lassie, but don’t be long or your pa may worry.”

  “I won’t,” she promised distractedly. As he rode off, she started after Tye. Maybe she was a fool for caring, but she had to know what troubled him.

  She found him leaning against the broken trunk of a tree that had been struck by lightning and split down the middle. One half of it had toppled over and lay partially in the water. The remaining half stood like a forlorn sentry over its severed twin.

  Hat in hand, Tye slapped it idly against his thigh as he stared somberly across the river. Hearing her approach, he scowled at her over his shoulder, then looked away. “Why’d ye follow me? I’m not looking for company and I know you’re not anxious for mine.”

  His curtness cut into her, but she let it pass. Maybe she deserved it after the way she’d treated him lately. “You looked mighty sad when I rode up with Neil. I’m just wondering why. Why should a stranger’s grave bother you so much?”

  “Oh, and it doesn’t bother you, I suppose.”

  “Course it does, but not like it does you.”

  A long moment passed. “Seeing that grave reminds me of things I’d rather forget,” he finally said in a heavy tone.

  Lil recalled what he’d told her in Fort Worth. “You mean your partner who got killed in the cave-in?” Stepping to his side, she saw his eyes squeeze shut.

  “Aye, Tom. Tom Pearce. And he wasn’t the first.” He turned his head to look at her. “I’m well acquainted with death, Lily. In fact, I’m thinking I carry it with me like a disease. Perhaps you’re wise to stay away from me.”

  “Hogwash! Nobody carries death.”

  “No? Didn’t ye come close to dying yourself back at the Red River?”

  “Yeah, I did, but you saved me.”

  “I couldn’t save Tom,” he said, gazing into the distance again. “Or the others.”

  “Others?”

  “Aye. Back in Utah. I saw more than one friend die in the mines while I escaped unharmed.”

  “I’m real sorry to hear about your friends dying, but from what I’ve heard, mining’s dangerous. Accidents must happen all the time. You can’t blame yourself for all of them. As for the cave-in that killed Tom . . . .” She studied his closed expression. “Did you do something to cause it, Tye?”

  He straightened and moved away from the tree, keeping his back to her. “Nay, ’tis more what I didn’t do.”

  Lil frowned. “What do you mean? What didn’t you do?”

  Rather than explain his baffling comment, he turned to face her, smiling crookedly. “You’re full of questions, aren’t ye. Ye remind me of my sister Rose. She was always curious, always questioning everything.”

  “You have another sister?” She stared at him, startled by the news.

  “Oh, aye. She’s the baby of the family, although she left home well before Jessie and I did. Ye see, after our mam died, Rosie and Da – my father, I mean – well, ’tis a long story. The gist of it is they couldn’t live under the same roof anymore. So Rosie went to live with the holy sisters. By now I expect she’ll have taken vows herself, or else she’s about to.

  Lil was having a hard time keeping up with all of his sudden revelations. “Your mam died? You mean your mother?”

  Tye chuckled. “Aye, that’s what we called her. ’Tis a custom from the old country.” Studying his hat as he fingered the brim, he added quietly, “She died of typhoid a couple of years before Chicago burned.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lil murmured, thinking how lucky she was to still have both of her parents. Anxious to distract him, she asked, “So, were you born in Ireland?”

  “Aye, but I don’t remember it. We came over the water when I was a wee babe, during the Great Hunger.”

  “The Great . . . oh! The potato famine?”

 
“Aye.”

  “I heard of that once, but I don’t know much about it.”

  “My folks spoke of it often. Of how the blight rotted the potatoes in the ground, leaving them with nothing to eat, much less sell, and how their highborn English landlord threw them off the farm when Da couldn’t pay the rent.”

  “What did they do?” Lil asked hesitantly, seeing his jaw work.

  “They walked the roads like so many others, living on garbage and a few meager handouts while the clothes rotted off their backs.”

  Lil swallowed hard. “T-that’s horrible.”

  “Aye, but they were among the lucky ones. They managed to stay alive and escape to America. Many didn’t. They died of starvation and plague, while the English carted off shiploads of Irish-grown food to feed themselves and their colonies.” Tye’s voice vibrated with anger, and Lil read hatred in his eyes.

  “You . . . you sound just like my mother when she starts in about the Irish.”

  Shock hurtled across his face. He started to speak, to utter a denial, she was sure, but he stopped. His features relaxed, mouth crooking into a wry smile.

  “I don’t like admitting it, but you’re right, colleen. I’ve carried a load of hate for the English most of my life. And like your mother, ’tis high time I let it go.” He reached out to stroke her cheek. “Ye were right about something else, too. I shouldn’t have said what I did about those Indians we crossed paths with. I know from my parents what it’s like to be cast out and starving.” He gazed at her contritely. “I’ve no excuse for being so thoughtless. Can ye forgive me?”

  Tears welled in her eyes. Her vow to keep away from him was no more than smoke on the wind. Needing to comfort and be comforted, she uttered a small cry and stepped close, pulling his head down to hers. He groaned and enfolded her in his arms as their lips welded together. His solid, masculine strength spoke to her woman’s heart, making her feel feminine, safe and giving all at the same time.

  “Ah, Lily, I’ve missed ye so,” he murmured, scorching a trail across her cheek. His hands drifted over her body while he nibbled her earlobe and the sensitive places along her throat.

  Desire scalded her. Moaning, she arched against him and tipped her head back. His hand found her breast, brushing and circling the crown until it stood out hard beneath her shirt. She gasped with pleasure and wanted more, but he held back, exercising a restraint she couldn’t find within herself.

  Straightening, he slid his hands up to her shoulders and gazed down at her with searching eyes. His chest heaved like hers; his tone was husky, the words awkward.

  “Lily, I must know something. Since the night we . . . were together, have ye . . . have ye bled?”

  Lil’s passion ebbed in a heartbeat. Embarrassment flooded her; she dropped her gaze and removed her hands from his chest. He was afraid she might be pregnant. The same worry still nagged at her, although she’d forgotten it for a foolish moment, along with her reasons for not letting him touch her again.

  “It’s not time yet,” she forced out.

  “Ah, well, soon perhaps. But in the meantime, ye were right before. We can’t lie together again. I could get ye with child if ye aren’t already.”

  Eyes still downcast, she bit her lip and said nothing.

  “Not that I’d leave ye to raise a babe of mine by yourself.”

  Lil looked up. Was he saying he’d marry her if she carried his child? And that he would leave her otherwise? She found no answer in his blue eyes. He returned her gaze with that intense stare that always made her feel as if he was looking into her head. Then he blinked and smiled regretfully.

  “Besides, if we don’t get back, they’ll come after us, and I’ve no wish to start something we can’t finish. Nor would I want another man looking at ye.”

  His gaze dipped to her breasts, and heat radiated through Lil again, even as she grew totally confused. He refused to make love to her; he’d probably leave her if she wasn’t carrying his baby. Yet he spoke and acted as if she belonged to him. What did it all mean?

  Before she could find the courage to ask him, he bent and kissed her lightly. “Come on, let’s go.” Catching her hand, he walked her back along the river in silence.

  Lil hesitated when they reached their horses. “I think I’ll get cleaned up while everyone’s with the herd. If you see Pa, will you let him know?”

  A devilish twinkle came into his eyes. “Aye, I’ll tell him. I only wish I could lend ye a hand.” He sighed dramatically. “But that wouldn’t be wise.”

  “No, it wouldn’t, and don’t talk like that when we can’t . . . . Oh, you know what I mean!” She whirled and mounted Major, hearing Tye give a roguish laugh.

  “I’ll see ye at supper, colleen. Enjoy your bath,” he said with a wink, swinging aboard his paint.

  She shot him a testy glance. He chuckled, touched his hat, and rode away. For a moment, she stared after him, more befuddled than ever by his contrary behavior. Then she headed for camp to gather soap and clean clothes from her war bag.

  A nasty shock awaited her. Frank Howard stood talking with her father, holding the reins to his lathered horse. When she drew up at the picket line, Frank glanced her way and grinned. She sent him a cold stare while her heart pounded in alarm. He’d come after Tye, as she’d feared he would.

  “Hey, Lil. Good to see yuh,” he said in a way too friendly tone as she stepped down and tied up her horse.

  “You here looking for trouble, Frank?” Eyeing him in open dislike, she walked over to confront him.

  “Now, Lil,” her father began.

  “No such thing, honey,” Frank denied, splaying a hand across his chest in mock hurt. “I’m just out scouting for Pa. Thought I’d drop by and say howdy.”

  Lil didn’t believe him for a second. “Don’t call me honey. And don’t think I’ve forgotten the way you –”

  “That’s enough, Lil,” her father barked. “Frank apologized back at the Circle H for whatever he said to you. Let it go.”

  “But, Pa, you don’t know. He’s here to –”

  “I said let it go. What are you doing here, anyway? Is there trouble with the herd?”

  “No,” she snapped, thinking fast. “I just figured the boys could get by without me for a spell. Thought I’d lend Chic a hand.” She sure wasn’t going to take a bath with Frank Howard in the neighborhood.

  Her father frowned skeptically.

  Over by the chuck wagon, Chic issued a loud snort. “Since when do I need your help?”

  “Since I feel like giving it,” she said, willing him to keep quiet as she strode over to him.

  Busy making up a cobbler of wild plums, he opened his mouth to argue, but she grimaced and gave a tiny jerk of her head in Frank’s direction. Chic flicked a narrow-eyed look at the varmint and seemed to catch her drift.

  “Well, since you’re here, I s’pose yuh can fetch me some water. The barrel’s near empty. Gotta get some of the boys to refill it after while.” He grabbed up a wooden bucket. “Here, take this down to the river and fill ’er up.”

  Lil accepted the bucket with a nod and turned to go. As she did, her father invited Frank to stay the night. Coming to a dead stop, she met Frank’s mocking gaze. How she’d love to make him eat his smirk!

  “Thanks, Del, that’s right hospitable of yuh,” he replied, “but I figure to ride part of the way back before makin’ camp. Pa’s expectin’ me by mornin’. I could use some supper, though, if you’ve got enough to spare.”

  “Sure thing. Chic, when’s it gonna be ready?”

  “It’ll be ready when it’s ready. Takes time and I ain’t got but two hands.”

  “All right, all right. I was just asking.”

  Doggonit! Why couldn’t Pa listen? Lil fumed as she marched away. He’d find out Frank’s true purpose for being here soon enough, but Tye could end up hurt . . . or dead. No! She had to stop it. But how?

  At the river’s edge, she knelt to fill the bucket, then set it aside. “Might as well wash
up a little,” she grumbled. Shoving her hat back, she bent to scrub her face, and felt fresh resentment toward Frank Howard because she couldn’t have the bath she wanted.

  Shoot, she’d live without a bath. What mattered was getting rid of him before Tye rode in for supper. Maybe if she egged Frank into showing his temper, her father would . . . .

  She heard twigs break behind her. Stiffening in alarm, she wiped her face on her sleeve and shot upright. Frank’s grating voice sounded as she pivoted to face him.

  “Why don’t yuh take off them duds and wash up proper. I sure would enjoy watchin’.” His leering gaze crawled over her, making her feel dirty in a way no bath could wash away.

  “What are you doing down here, Frank Howard? I don’t want anything to do with you.”

  “All prickles, ain’t yuh, Lil, but I only wanta make peace between us. Your pa thinks that’s a right good idea.” He snickered. “Reckon you never told him everything that happened at the ranch. Bet he don’t know about you and Devlin back in Fort Worth, neither. Maybe if you’re real nice to me, I won’t tell him.”

  “You snake in the grass! Your threat doesn’t scare me,” she hissed. Her bravado only made him laugh again.

  “If it don’t beat all, you takin’ up with the brother of the woman who snared your precious David.”

  She couldn’t smother a startled gasp.

  “Didn’t think I knew who that no-good Irish Yankee was, did yuh?” he sneered. “Well, now you’re gonna give me a taste of what yuh been givin’ him, sweetheart.”

  He started toward her with a wolfish grin.

  “Keep away,” she warned. Taking an evasive sidestep, she banged into the bucket, sloshing water over the side as she struggled to keep her balance. Then Frank was in front of her.

  “Ah now, don’t be thataway, honey. Let me show yuh how a real man kisses.” Flinging his hat off, he reached for her arm.

  She batted his hand away. “Don’t touch me! You’re not a man, you’re a selfish bully who never grew up!”

  “Shut up!” he snarled. Making a grab for her, he failed to protect himself from her fist.