Dashing Druid (Texas Druids) Page 19

  It caught him in the gut, driving a grunt from his throat and doubling him half over. Unfortunately, the blow also made Lil lose her footing on the muddy bank. Crying out, she tumbled to the ground, nearly into the water.

  Frank recovered quickly. “You shouldn’t of done that, slut,” he growled, starting to bend toward her.

  Lil’s gaze fell to the bucket beside her. Grabbing it, she heaved the contents in his face. He spluttered and cursed until her boot connected with his crotch. Then he screeched in pain.

  Going white, he clutched himself and sank to his knees while she rolled out of the way. “You filthy Injun bitch!” he wheezed.

  Lil scrambled up and took to her heels, leaving him to hurl choked curses after her. Maybe Pa would listen now.

  * * *

  Tye galloped into camp, threw himself off his horse and glanced wildly around for Lil. He saw only Del and Chic. Both men turned to stare as he strode toward them.

  “What’s eating you, Devlin?” Del asked, scowling.

  “Neil said he saw Frank Howard ride in. Where is he? And where’s Lil?”

  Del’s scowl deepened. “By damn, you left the herd cuz you’re jealous of Frank? You got no call to be, and if I can’t trust you to do your job, maybe I –”

  He stopped speaking when Lil came tearing out of the trees and underbrush along the river. Her clothes were muddy, her dark eyes wild, and Tye was instantly struck by the mix of fear and anger that erupted from her.

  She caught sight of him and halted a few feet away, fear turning to panic. “Tye! You can’t be here,” she blurted, throwing a hasty glance over her shoulder.

  “Damn that bastard! What did he do to ye, Lily?” he growled, striding over to her.

  “N-nothing. I fell, that’s all, and I don’t want you getting into a fight with him.” She turned to her father as he walked up. “Pa, make him go back to the herd.”

  Del exchanged a grim look with Tye. “Lil, what happened down there?” he asked sharply.

  “Nothing, I said. Please, just listen to me and . . . .” she began. The sound of crashing shrubbery made her gasp and spin around.

  Frank Howard emerged from the fringe of woods, moving stiffly. Tye met his hate-filled glare and seethed with rage.

  “Frank, did you lay hands on Lil?” Del demanded.

  The long-haired Texan sent him a disdainful glance, then glared vengefully at Lil. “All I did was talk to her. She’s the one tried to cripple me.”

  “Liar! You had it coming!” Lil spat, contradicting her claim that nothing had happened.

  Growling, Howard made a move toward her.

  Del bellowed at him to stop. Moving fast, Tye stepped in front of Lil.

  Howard halted. “Stakin’ her out, Paddy boy?” he sneered. “I reckon you’ve already had your mick hands all over her, ain’t yuh.”

  “Shut your filthy mouth!” Del roared.

  Tye snarled and charged. Lil screamed his name as Howard threw a quick swing at him. Ducking, Tye plowed into him, shoulder first, and slammed him to the ground, landing on top of him. Hot air whooshed from Howard’s lungs, and Tye grunted, reminded painfully of the partly healed claw tracks on his shoulders. Ignoring them, he delivered a punch to the Texan’s jaw. Then he took one on the chin himself and sprawled over on his back.

  “Stop it!” Lil cried. “I don’t want you fighting over me!”

  “Lil, stay out of the way!” her father barked.

  Tye saw Del grab Lil’s arms to restrain her. Then Howard lunged at him. He blocked the mongrel’s punch and pummeled him with a hard right. He attempted to follow up with a left jab, but Howard threw up an arm to block it, landing a swing that cut open Tye’s lip.

  “Is that the best ye can do?” he taunted, pounding his opponent’s ribs as they grappled and rolled.

  “You think you’re tough? I’ll show yuh tough!” Howard gritted, redoubling his efforts.

  Absorbing a powerful right to his jaw, Tye bit back a gasp as Chic yelled encouragement to him. He blinked and retaliated swiftly, bloodying Howard’s nose. The Texan roared furiously and struck back. Punching, kicking, cursing, they rolled over and over in the dirt. Tye didn’t know how close they were to the chuck wagon until he banged into the leg of Chic’s work table. The support gave way and the table collapsed, striking his shoulder. He gave a startled cry as a pan bounced off his head on its way to the ground.

  “My plum cobbler!” Chic hollered.

  Suddenly, a gun boomed. “That’s enough!” Del shouted. “Quit tearing up this camp, both of yuh!”

  On top at that point, Howard froze with his fist raised and glanced over his shoulder, blood trickling from his nose. Tye looked past him and saw Del standing there, pistol aimed skyward.

  “What if I say it ain’t enough?” Howard blazed. “You gonna kill me? Do it, and my pa will see you dead, friend or not.”

  Fury shown in Del’s steely eyes, but he mastered it. Lowering his gun, he gripped the barrel and tapped the butt against his palm.

  “No need to kill you, Frank. A knock on the head oughta do it. Wonder what your pa will say when I haul you back tied over your saddle and tell him you tried to force yourself on Lil.”

  “You old fool! Try it and I’ll –”

  “Hold your tongue and get off me,” Tye growled, heaving upward with a knee to Howard’s groin.

  The Texan shrieked. Landing on his back, he cupped himself and curled into a ball, keening with pain.

  Tye recalled the mongrel’s comment about Lil trying to cripple him, and he sent her an amused glance while climbing to his feet. She turned as red as the clay earth and looked away.

  Now Neil, Luis and Choctaw Jack barreled into camp, guns drawn. They dragged their horses to a halt, taking in the scene. After eying Howard’s writhing form, Luis grinned at Tye.

  “We heard a gunshot,” Neil said, looking to his boss.

  “It was mine,” Del replied. “Trouble’s over now, but our visitor’s leaving. Why don’t you boys escort him south, and I don’t want him near this herd again.”

  “I’ll pass the word.” Neil lanced Howard with a pitiless glance. “Lads, you heard the boss. Help the gentleman up.”

  While Luis and Jack dragged Howard over to his horse, Tye rose unsteadily. He fingered his cut lip and grimaced. Then Lil came running with a damp rag in her hand.

  “You loco Irishman. I never asked you to fight my battles for me,” she scolded in a husky tone, dabbing gently at his lip.

  “Sure now, I’d gladly slay dragons for ye next, colleen,” he murmured.

  She went still and stared at him wide-eyed. A tide of wonder and uncertainty poured from her, filling his mind, scattering his thoughts.

  Frank Howard broke their connection, swearing viciously as he was hoisted onto his horse. He snarled when he hit the saddle; then his malevolent gaze targeted Tye. “This ain’t over, Paddy.”

  Tye smiled coldly. “Until next time then.”

  “Devlin,” Del barked, “clean yourself up and get back to the herd. As for you, Howard, vamoose. And from now on keep away from Lil.” He nodded curtly to Luis.

  The vaquero gave Howard a look of commiseration. “You are in pain, amigo? Perhaps I can help.” He slapped the rump of Howard’s black stallion, and the horse bounded forward, driving a maniacal shriek from its rider. Luis telegraphed Tye another grin; then he and Jack rode after Howard to carry out Del’s order.

  Lil laid a hand on Tye’s arm as he chuckled and started to brush himself off. “Don’t let there be a next time,” she said, brown eyes pleading. “After this, he’ll be out to kill you.”

  He covered her hand with his. “Would ye have me run? From the likes of him? I can’t do it, mavourneen. I won’t.”

  “You would if you had a lick of sense!” she cried, jerking her hand away. “I told you Frank’s fast with a gun, and just cuz you can hit a target, that doesn’t make you a gunfighter.”

  Del cleared his throat impatiently and glowered at them.<
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  Flinging him a sharp glance, Lil lowered her voice to a hiss. “And stop calling me that confounded Irish word, whatever it means!” Then she wheeled and ran to her horse.

  Tye watched her go, aching to follow and tell her it meant my darling, but that grave by the river popped back into his mind. The sight of it had awakened his black memories and all the fear and guilt connected with them. Flayed by conflicting emotions, he longed to claim Lil for his own, but he had nothing to offer her but a haunted past and an uncertain future, he reminded himself. Not to mention his damnable gift, which she’d probably regard as a fantasy of his own creation – or a work of the devil. Unless she proved to be pregnant, she would be better off without him. With that admission, pain squeezed his heart like a tightening fist.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Darkness draped hot and humid over Lil, sheathing her in sweat as she lay on her bedroll. Her grimy clothes stuck to her like a rough second skin, and she prickled from head to foot. Although it was still May, it might as well be the middle of summer.

  Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled in the distance, drawing a tired sigh from her lips. She’d hoped to be asleep before Tye came in from bobtail guard. She didn’t want to lie awake, conscious of him across the campfire and yearning to lie next to him. Most of all, she wanted to escape her constant fear that he would end up with Frank Howard’s bullet in his chest.

  But she was too tense to sleep. So were the men, judging by their nervous tossing and turning. They’d all noticed the still air, ominous green sky and line of black clouds far to the west before sundown. Now they waited in dread for the storm to hit, knowing such weather could easily set off a stampede.

  Where was her father? Lil wondered. Just past the North Canadian River, they’d gotten word of Indian trouble ahead, and this morning he’d ridden out with Choctaw Jack to check on the rumors. He wasn’t back yet, and she longed for his reassuring presence.

  Moments later, a nearby flash of lightning jackknifed her into a sitting position. Neil also sat up. He crammed on his boots as thunder boomed.

  “It’s close. Everyone hit yer saddles,” he ordered. “Chic, Jubal, hitch up the mules just in case.” On his feet and striding to the picket line, he added, “The rest of ye leave your guns behind unless ye want to be a lightning rod. Pass the word to Devlin and Sherman, whoever sees them.” Not waiting for a reply, he forked leather and galloped away.

  Lil stamped into her own boots and ran to the hoodlum wagon along with the men.

  “Looks like we’re in for a bad blow,” Alabama muttered as they dumped their weapons in the wagon.

  “Sí, I pray El Diablo does not ride tonight,” Luis said.

  Lil guessed he meant a cyclone. Silently echoing his prayer, she dashed to her night horse and mounted up while another spear of lightning ripped across the sky. The thunderclap came fast and loud as she raced out to find Tye and tell him to get rid of his guns.

  * * *

  Tye crooned worriedly as he circled the herd, attention split between the cattle and the heavy cloud bank. Veiling the stars as it neared, it fired off lightning and thunder in rapid order, drawing dozens of steers to their feet. They bellowed in fright, almost ready to bolt. All at once, blue and gold balls of light began to jump from horn tip to horn tip among the beasts. Cursing, Tye felt the hairs on his neck stand up as he halted to stare. He didn’t tear his gaze away from the ghost lights until Lil rode up. She was only a shadow in the darkness, but he picked up the alarm surging through her and knew it was her before she spoke.

  “Tye?” she called with soft urgency.

  “Aye, ’tis me,” he answered, returning his gaze to the eerie light show. “But what is that?”

  “What? Oh, it’s just fox fire. Saint Elmo’s fire, Neil calls it. Listen, you’d better ride back to camp and shuck your guns.”

  “Saints above, it gives me gooseflesh.”

  “Will you pay attention! If you don’t get rid of your hardware you’re liable to be roast goose when lightning gets you.”

  He laughed. “An unpleasant picture, I must say.”

  “It’s not funny! And things are fixing to turn mighty unpleasant real quick. So get moving!”

  “Aye, you’re right. I oughtn’t to jest –”

  A fork of lightning cut him off. Illuminating the prairie for miles around, it set off a deafening barrage of noise. Tye’s grulla shied, Lil’s gray squealed in fright, and twenty-five hundred steers shook the ground as they leapt straight up and bounded forward like a freight train to hell.

  “Stampede!” Lil screamed above the sudden din of pounding hooves and clashing horns.

  “Too late to do anything but ride!” Tye shouted. “Be careful!”

  “You too!” she yelled as he took off ahead of her.

  Within seconds, he was riding at a flat out run, bent low over his saddle horn while panicked cattle broke and scattered around him. He stayed with the main herd and trusted his cow pony to keep ahead of the longhorns at their back – and not step in a hole or run off the edge of a ravine.

  Praying God would protect Lil, Tye hugged his horse’s neck when rain began to pelt them. He hadn’t thought to drag on his slicker and it was impossible now. All he could do was grit his teeth as wind whipped the downpour into sheets that slashed like knives and drenched him to the skin. Up above, the huge black cloud flew along like an evil demon, bombarding the herd with electricity and noise.

  Twice when the sky lit up, Tye glanced back and spotted Lil. The sight of her brought relief, but only temporarily.

  On and on the cattle raced, over brushy hills and down across treacherous, muddy draws. Gradually, Tye’s mount gained ground, bringing him near the front of the herd. How many miles had they run? he wondered as they came out on an open flat. And was he only wishing, or had the storm begun to pass by?

  The next bright flash revealed Neil MacClure’s tall figure at the head of the herd. The segundo yelled and shook his lariat, trying to turn the lead steers. If Jefe cooperated, the others would follow, milling into a circle until, eventually, they’d wear themselves out and stop.

  Aye, Neil was doing it! They were beginning to swing right.

  “Heeyaw! Turn, cattle!” Tye shouted, flapping his own rope at the tired beasts. Then his grulla stumbled.

  “Jaysus!” he swore, grabbing his saddle horn. Certain they were about to go down, he tasted death, and Lil’s face flashed before his eyes. Somehow, though, the horse regained his footing and lunged forward, avoiding the horns of a pursuing steer. The grulla darted left, then right, and Tye realized they were in the middle of a prairie dog town. Heart pounding, he gave the horse its head and let it pick a path through the hazardous burrows.

  Seconds later, he heard a horrible scream. His first thought was of Lil, but when he reached out with his mind, he found her frightened yet unharmed. Then he realized that awful scream had come from somewhere ahead of him.

  “Neil!” Tye shouted. He got no reply. “Nooo,” he groaned. Rage rose like a wildfire within him. He shook his fist at the sky. “’Tisn’t fair! He nearly had them turned!”

  Drawing his six-shooter, he yelled and fired into the air until he had no bullets left, daring God to strike him dead with a lightning bolt. But none came. Instead, the cattle continued the turn Neil had begun and slowed into a churning mass.

  Tye’s fury drained away. Maybe Neil wasn’t dead, but only injured. Holstering his empty Colt, he reined the grulla around. The horse was exhausted, but he had to check, had to find out.

  “MacClure! Can ye hear me?” he called, getting no response. He tried twice more; the last time an answer came, but not from the segundo.

  “Tye? It’s me, Lil. What’s wrong? Where’s Neil?”

  His heart soared because she was safe, then instantly sank. MacClure was her friend. Tye hated to tell her what had happened. Drawing up beside her, he took a heavy breath and reached for her hand. She clasped his in response.

  “He was turning the
herd when I heard him scream,” he said thickly. “I’ve seen nothing of him since.”

  “No, it can’t be!” she cried, hand strangling his.

  “I’m sorry, colleen.”

  Lil tore her hand from his. “No! He’s not dead. We have to find him.” Wheeling her horse, she loped off, shrieking MacClure’s name and shouting for the others to look for him.

  Sharing the pain and denial she was feeling, Tye didn’t try to stop her. Tom Pearce’s death was still an open wound within him, and now he’d been helpless to save another man, another friend. Not for the first time, he wondered if he carried some sort of curse.

  * * *

  Lil had accepted the worst by the time Luis found Neil’s body. Tye and the vaquero brought him in wrapped in a tarp, and shortly after sunrise, the men dug a grave on a small rise. Young Kirby fashioned a crude cross out of deadwood and planted it at the head of the shallow mound. When it was done, the crew gathered around Neil’s grave.

  Hat in hand, Lil stood there, her eyes aching with unshed tears. Yesterday, Neil had ridden with her at the head of the herd, singing off-key tunes and fondly scolding the cattle – and her – as if they were his children. Did he have a family somewhere back in Scotland, or here in America? He’d never wanted to talk about his past. Now he was gone.

  Looking up, Lil caught expectant glances from the men. They wanted her to say some words, she realized, since her father wasn’t here. But she’d never done this. She looked to Tye, across the grave from her. He nodded and gave her a heartening smile.

  She hesitantly bowed her head and attempted to clear her clogged throat. It didn’t help; her voice came out scratchy. “I . . . I reckon Neil’s a whole lot better off where he is now, but we’re gonna miss him. He was a fine man and about the best cowboy I ever met.” She heard muttered agreement. “Take care of him, God, and let him ride those green pastures of yours.”

  Her “Amen” was repeated around the circle of drovers. As she replaced her hat, Kirby spoke up.

  “That was real nice, Miz Lil.”

  “Sho’ was,” Dewey agreed. “Ol’ Neil woulda liked it.”