Texas Loving (The Cowboys) Read online

  They were interrupted by still more family members wanting to congratulate Zeke, so Eden didn’t get to ask Zeke any more questions before Buck and his family arrived. The first few minutes were spent in greeting all the adult members of the family and teasing a few of the younger ones, but it wasn’t long before Zeke got Buck off to a corner. Eden could tell by the altered expression on Buck’s face that Zeke’s information had startled him. After a few minutes of hurried conversation, they motioned for Chet to join them. Moments after that Buck’s worried expression gradually changed to anger. Unable to remain in ignorance of what they were saying, Eden worked her way over to them.

  “I wasn’t sorry to see him go,” Chet was saying. “I wouldn’t have hired Frank if I hadn’t been short of hands. He was an average worker and didn’t seem interested in improving. He was a real loner, didn’t try to make friends with any of the other men.”

  “Who are you talking about?” Eden asked.

  “The man I saw,” Zeke said.

  “What do you think is wrong?”

  “We don’t know,” Buck said, “but Rupert’s sons were as mean as their father. The oldest one used to torment me, then dare me to tell his father. He knew Rupert would beat me if he thought I’d even spoken harshly to one of his boys.”

  “What are you going to do?” Eden asked.

  “We’re trying to decide,” Chet said.

  “Only thing is,” Buck said, “none of Rupert’s sons was named Frank. They were Aaron, Abel, and Adam.”

  A commotion near the door caused Eden to look up in time to see Edward enter the lobby. She waved him over to join them.

  “If he had anything to do with the attacks on the ranches, wouldn’t he have used a false name?” Eden asked.

  “I don’t know,” Buck said, “but if anybody would poison cattle and burn barns full of hay—”

  “Or attack horses with knives and guns,” Eden added.

  “—I’d vote for a son of Rupert Reison,” Buck finished.

  “Where’s your father?” Edward asked when he reached Eden. “I need to ask him if he knows why Finn should be in San Antonio.”

  “He can’t be. He’s in charge of the ranch,” Eden said.

  “I saw him in the Market Square talking to the jockey I fired.”

  “Let’s see if we can find Frank,” Chet said. “I don’t like the feeling I’m getting.”

  “I want to go with you,” Edward said after they told him they were concerned about who Frank might really be. “But I need to talk to Jake first.”

  The three men looked at each other and Eden knew they were thinking Edward was an outsider only tangentially involved in a situation that ought to be kept within the family.

  “Take him with you,” Eden said when Edward left to find Jake.

  “Why?” Buck asked.

  “You won’t let me go with you, and I need somebody who can tell me what you find.”

  “We’ll tell you,” Chet said.

  “Only what you think I need to know. Now don’t argue. I have a feeling all of this is somehow related.”

  “How?” Zeke asked.

  “I don’t know, but I can’t believe all these things happening at the same time are merely coincidence.”

  “If my cowhand really is named Frank Pender, we have nothing to worry about,” Chet said.

  “And if he isn’t?” Eden asked.

  “Then I have a lot of questions I want answered.”

  It was apparent to Edward that his presence was pointless. Eden’s brothers weren’t overtly rude. They listened politely to anything he said, then ignored his suggestions. Edward was annoyed but figured they were probably justified. He’d been two years old and five thousand miles away when Jake had been shot.

  It hadn’t been too difficult for Eden’s brothers to find Frank Pender. He hadn’t tried to hide. No one could have described him as friendly, but he showed no reluctance to answer the questions put to him. He denied any knowledge of the group of farmers who had taken over Jake’s ranch. He said he couldn’t say whether or not he looked like Rupert Reison, but he’d never heard of the man and wasn’t any relation. He said his family came from south of Fort Worth. He knew enough about the area to convince the men he was telling the truth.

  “I quit because I’m thinking of going back home,” Frank said. “I don’t really like being a cowhand.”

  “You didn’t try hard to learn,” Chet told him.

  Frank shrugged. “I didn’t like it.”

  “What are you going to do in Fort Worth?”

  “My family has a store. I guess I’ll work in it.”

  Edward thought Pender would have to improve his attitude or he’d alienate the customers, but that wasn’t his problem. He was more interested in why he thought Frank was lying. The man wasn’t likeable, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t telling the truth. It might have ended there if a young cowhand hadn’t recognized Frank and come over to join the group.

  “I got tired of being the butt of jokes just because I’m the youngest in the group,” the cowhand said when Chet asked him why he wasn’t out enjoying himself with the other men. “Besides, I wanted to ask Frank if he had a cousin or something working for Sean.”

  His words riveted the attention of everyone in the group.

  “What do you mean?” Buck asked.

  “I saw a guy who looked like the spitting image of Frank a while ago. One of the hands said he worked for Sean. I just wondered if they were kin.”

  “What’s his name?” Frank asked.

  Edward had to give Frank credit. He didn’t appear to be any more concerned about the answer than he would have about the name of an alley cat.

  “Sam Grimes,” the cowhand said. “Looks to be close to your age.”

  “Can’t be related to me then,” Frank said. “Ain’t nobody in my family named Sam. Don’t know anybody named Grimes, either.”

  It was his eyes that gave him away. Everything about his posture, his voice, his facial expression proclaimed bore dom, maybe irritation at having to answer so many questions, but his eyes moved too quickly, too evasively.

  “Where’s this Grimes fella now?” Buck asked.

  “Probably still at the cantina. The guy I know said he acts like a prude, but I say he has his eye on a pretty dancer.”

  “We ought to talk to him,” Buck said. “This could be sheer coincidence, but I’d feel better if I could make sure for myself.”

  “I agree,” Zeke said.

  “What do you think we ought to do?” Buck asked.

  “You go,” Chet said to Buck and Zeke. “You two know what Reison looked like. I only saw him when he was dying. I’ll stay here with Frank. Be as quick as you can. I’d like to clear this up and get back to the family.”

  “I don’t intend to waste my evening satisfying your family’s curiosity,” Frank said. “I don’t work for you anymore.”

  “It won’t take long. Order anything you want to eat or drink. I’ll pay for it.”

  “I’m not hungry, and I don’t drink spirits,” Frank said.

  Chet eyed him more closely. “I guess I can understand why you couldn’t make it as a cowhand.”

  “I didn’t want to make it,” Frank said. “I could have if I’d wanted.”

  The two men exchanged a few uneasy sentences, then fell quiet. Chet ordered a glass of sangria. Edward asked for a glass of ale. When they said they didn’t carry ale—the waitress had never even heard of it—he settled for beer. Frank insisted he wanted nothing.

  Chet asked Edward about England. Ordinarily he’d have jumped at the chance to talk about England, but it was difficult to talk about his life there without explaining his birth. He might have missed the change in Frank if he hadn’t turned to order another beer. Frank’s eyes had widened suddenly. The next instant he was on his feet running.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Edward immediately gave chase. Frank would have gotten away if he hadn’t collided with a young couple tr
ying to enter the cantina at the same time he was dashing out. Edward grabbed him by his shirt collar and hauled him backward, but was caught off guard when Frank pulled a knife from inside his shirt and turned to attack him.

  The sound of a pistol shot sent screaming patrons diving for the floor and under tables. Frank’s knife clattered on the tiles as his scream rose above the noise around him. Edward was stunned to see him clutching a bloody hand.

  “I haven’t had to do any shooting like that in nearly ten years,” Chet said calmly as he approached. “It’s good to know I haven’t lost my eye.”

  “You tried to kill me!” Frank screamed.

  “If I’d tried to kill you, you’d be dead.”

  Edward had found it hard to accept that Chet and his brother had been gunfighters. Now, however, the pitiless look in Chet’s cold blue eyes along with Frank’s bleeding hand made it easy. Neither had to ask why Frank had tried to run. Zeke and Hawk were approaching the cantina with a man who looked like Frank’s twin. From the way the fellow was struggling, it was obvious he hadn’t come willingly.

  “What is your real name?” Chet asked Frank.

  “I need a doctor before I bleed to death,” Frank growled through his pain.

  “That hand won’t be of much use to you in the future,” Chet said, “but you won’t bleed to death.”

  Zeke and Buck had come close enough to ask what had happened.

  “Apparently Frank saw you two approaching with his near double and decided to run before he had to answer any more questions,” Chet explained.

  “The first time I saw Rupert’s two younger boys, I thought they were twins,” Buck said. “I’m positive these two are Abel and Adam. The older one was named Aaron.”

  “Does either of you know where he is?” Chet asked.

  Both men disclaimed any knowledge of each other or their older brother.

  “Searching San Antonio for him won’t do any good,” Buck said. “He doesn’t look like his brothers.”

  “Can you give us some idea what he looked like?” Edward asked.

  “I guess he’d be close to the same height and build as his brothers,” Buck said, “but he had faded brown hair, pale blue eyes, and a nose that reminded me of a hawk’s beak. He was mean-spirited and liked picking on everybody. Even the other farm boys disliked him.”

  Edward had the uneasy feeling that the description ought to have conjured up a picture of someone he knew, but the chance of his knowing the older brother was practically nonexistent. “What are you going to do with these two?” he asked.

  “Turn them over to the sheriff,” Chet said. “One tried to kill you, and they’re both suspected of willful destruction of property, arson, and attempted murder.”

  “You can’t prove any of that,” the unwounded brother said.

  “Not yet, but now that we know who to investigate, I expect we’ll come up with all the proof we need.”

  Edward decided to let the brothers take the two men to the local authorities. He had to go back to the hotel and tell Eden he was withdrawing Crusader from the race. He was now certain the attack had been on Eden rather than Cru- sader. He was equally certain the third brother would try to finish what none of the others had accomplished.

  Murder Eden Maxwell.

  “You can’t withdraw Crusader,” Eden protested. “He’s a cinch to win the race.”

  “I have no choice,” Edward insisted. “It’s not safe for you to ride him, and I’ve been unable to find any other jockey.”

  “No one is trying to kill me,” Eden insisted. “Why would they?”

  “Because they think I killed their father,” Jake said.

  Even though Abel and Adam Reison continued to deny that they were related, using assumed names, or responsible for the attacks on the ranches, everyone was certain they and the missing brother were the culprits. Apparently it made no difference that the Maxwells had given Rupert a decent burial and explained the circumstances of his death to his wife. She had refused to believe Rupert would hire men to steal Jake’s herd or that Rupert would try to kill Buck. Jake had lost track of the Reison family after he’d rounded up the last of his cows and moved to the Hill Country. They could very easily have moved to Fort Worth and opened a store.

  Whatever their actions and movements, they had learned to be cowhands so they could find jobs on Maxwell ranches and take revenge for their father’s death.

  “Whatever they’re planning is to take place in San Antonio,” Edward said. “They want revenge. What better way to get it than to kill Eden?”

  “If they wanted to hurt my father the most, they would go after my mother,” Eden said.

  “The love I feel for your mother is different from what I feel for you,” Jake told his daughter, “but they’re both equally strong.”

  “If anybody killed me, you’d be devastated,” Eden said, “but you’d survive. If they killed Mama, you’d go crazy. You wouldn’t care what happened to you as long as you hunted down and killed everyone involved.”

  Jake might have protested if three sons hadn’t nodded their heads in agreement.

  “So they can’t be after me,” Eden concluded. “That shot was fired by someone trying to keep Crusader out of the race. Now that he’s failed, there’s no reason not to enter the race as planned.”

  “It doesn’t matter whether the gunman was trying to kill you or the horse,” Edward said. “I’m not running Crusader.”

  Eden started to argue, but Jake interrupted her. “Crusader is Edward’s horse and only Edward has the right to decide what to do. Now that he’s made his decision, everyone should respect it.”

  “Well, I can’t respect it,” Eden said. “Crusader can win that race easily. That would establish his reputation as a stud horse. How can you give up?” she asked Edward.

  “I can’t take the chance that you’re wrong, that the gunman is trying to kill you.”

  Eden understood the sacrifice Edward was making and loved him all the more for it, but she wanted to bang his head against a wall. This was her future he was giving up, setting aside, putting on hold. He had no right to do that without taking her wishes into consideration. And her father had no right to side with him. She was a grown woman. If she was willing to take risks, it was her right to do so.

  “I’m not giving up,” Edward said. “There’ll be opportunities to race Crusader against other horses for bets on the side. And there’s next year’s race. Crusader will be a year older and even better then.”

  “A hundred things could go wrong in a year’s time,” Eden argued. “Crusader could be injured, the race could be canceled, somebody could buy a Kentucky Thoroughbred and bring him to Texas.” She stopped, unsure whether to utter the words trembling on her lips. In the end, they fell out on their own. “You could run out of money and have to return to England.” It frightened her even to think that. If Edward ever went home, she believed she’d never see him again.

  “I’m still taking Crusader out of the race.”

  Eden didn’t argue, though there were hundreds of things she wanted to say. She was the daughter of one of the most stubborn men alive . . . as well as the sister of ten more. She could tell when a man’s mind was made up and he wasn’t about to change it. But she was her mother’s daughter, and she didn’t mean to give up. In order to be with the man she loved, her mother had faced cooking for a cattle drive to Santa Fe when she didn’t know anything about cows, cattle drives, or cooking. In Eden’s mind, one crazy Reison brother wasn’t nearly as dangerous as several hundred miles of virtual desert infested with Indians, rattlesnakes, and white men willing to kill to get what they wanted.

  She wasn’t sure what she would do, but already a plan was forming in her mind. She needed time to think. She couldn’t trust anyone to help her. This she would have to do on her own.

  “I’m retired,” the little man told Eden. “I’ve already turned down several offers to ride in this race.”

  “I don’t want you to ride in th
e race,” Eden explained. “I just want you to mount up. Then after Edward leaves, we’ll exchange places.”

  “Why doesn’t he want you to ride?”

  “He’s afraid the race will be too rough for a woman.” Eden couldn’t tell him the truth, or he’d refuse to help her. “I’ve been riding the horse in training. I know how to get the best out of him. He’ll win so easily I won’t be in any danger.”

  The man subjected her to a long, silent scrutiny. “I don’t think you’re telling me the whole truth.”

  Eden smiled. “Do you ever know a woman to tell the whole truth?”

  He laughed. “Only when it suits her purpose.” He sobered quickly. “You know I wouldn’t do this for anyone but you.”

  “I know,” Eden said without apology. “It’s the reason I asked you.”

  He was silent a moment longer. “You promise me he’s not objecting to your riding for any reason except your safety?”

  “Every time I argue with him, all he talks about is my safety.” She needn’t tell the man exactly what Edward was keeping her safe from.

  “Okay, but if I get caught, I’m blaming everything on you.”

  “I’m going to get the blame no matter what happens. Now, here is what I want you to do.”

  Edward couldn’t believe his luck. The most famous jockey in Texas had volunteered to come out of retirement to ride Crusader.

  “It’s rumored around town that you have the best horse,” the jockey had said, “but you can’t find a rider.”

  “I couldn’t find a jockey to ride Crusader the way I wanted,” Edward had told him.

  “Tell me what you want me to do,” the man had said.

  After a detailed explanation, during which the man never looked bored or inclined to argue with him, the jockey mounted Crusader and did exactly what Edward had asked. Eden could get more out of the horse, but Edward was confident this jockey would get enough to win. He didn’t know what providence had provided him with the means of protecting Eden and winning the race, but maybe the gods that had treated him badly for so long had had a change of heart and decided it was time he had some good luck.