these cattle I didn’t pay a dime for, but found on the open range.
“I’ve hired the best cow men I can find and an extra dozen to ride along as protection. I’ve heard tell that some herds make it as far as Kansas just to be lost to bandits.”
Nichole looked at the herd. “Not much to lose. Longhorns, the ugliest cattle I’ve ever seen.”
“Kid, don’t talk about my fortune that way,” Wes complained. “These are the kings of cattle. They can survive any weather, and they’ve been roaming wild since Coronado dropped them off in Texas some three hundred years ago. I heard a man down South call them rainbow cattle because they come in so many different colors.”
Nichole studied the herd. In truth she saw black, white, blue, bays, reds, and some spotted with every combination of color. Many had horns spreading four to five feet.
Following her gaze, Wes added, “We found several mature longhorns with the horns twisted down. Some of them had about starved to death trying to graze on winter grass. It wasn’t an easy job, but we caught them and cut the horns down so they could reach the short grass, then turned them loose to graze and fatten for another year.”
Wes continued to tell his brother of his plans while Nichole stood and returned her plate to the wagon. She’d been one of a group for so long it never occurred to her to leave her plate for someone else to wash.
“Thanks.” A cowhand with a towel for an apron startled her. “That’s one plate I won’t have to wash tonight.” A light flavoring of an Irish accent blended in his words.
Nichole looked at the stack of dirty plates next to the tub of soapy water. “Want some help?” Without waiting for an answer, she lifted half the stack and lowered them into the wash.
“Sure. Most the men around here are nothing but coffee coolers.”
“ ‘Coffee coolers?’”
The cook chuckled. “Ye know, men who stand around all day waiting for their cup to cool enough to drink before they go back to work.”
The cook winked at Nichole and smiled with his few remaining teeth showing. “Me name is Lloyd, miss.”
She looked at the short, graying man carefully. “I guess I didn’t do a very good job of acting like a man tonight.” In truth it was hard to remember all the rules with Adam around treating her like a woman.
“From a distance, I thought there was two men riding in, ye being so tall and all. But when I saw the way the boss and his brother stared at ye and how they both waited until ye sat down, I knew ye were a woman. I got four daughters meself.” He pulled a tintype from his shirt pocket showing a chubby little woman with four chubby daughters around her. “A lady’s a lady no matter how she’s dressed. But ye’re smart to travel like ye’re dressed in this country. I told my Gina Kay not to come out here until I tame the place down a bit.”
Nichole handed him a plate to dry. “You expecting any trouble?” She fought to keep her voice calm, conversational.
“We’ve heard talk. Boss hired three more men yesterday. There’s lots of men wandering these days, and they don’t feel any guilt taking another man’s land or property. It’s like the whole country’s got fighting in their blood and can’t wiggle it out.”
The cook looked sideways at her to make sure he hadn’t lost his audience before continuing. “Mr. McLain’s partner, Vincent, said there’s a gang of outlaws operating near Fort Worth, so we’re taking our time and being real careful.”
“So Wes takes extra precautions?” She kept her eyes focused on the dishes so he wouldn’t think her interest too great.
“Ye bet yer spurs he does. Between the guards and the hands there’s a circle around this camp no man could get through. One thing about McLain’s partner, he may be young but he’s an honest man and everyone in the state knows it.”
Nichole looked around her. In truth the camp was very well protected. Each guard could see the post of the next so if one man on the outside circle was taken out at least two of the others would know it. Without an opening of at least three men, no one could enter.
She handed Lloyd the last plate and picked up the pan of dishwater. “I’ll toss this,” she said as she walked toward the horses and away from the stream.
As she poured the water onto rocky ground, she glanced at the row of horses tethered for the night. A paint caught her attention. A paint marked exactly like the one she’d seen at the stagecoach fire.
NINETEEN
““WHERE’S ADAM?” NICHOLE tried to keep her voice calm as she approached the cook fire where Wes stood talking with Lloyd. “I have to see him.”
Wes pointed to a place beneath the trees where several bedrolls were spread. On a warm night like this, there was no need for the men to sleep by the fire. A single lantern blinked like a firefly amid the trees. “He’s checking on one of my men who has an infected cut on his leg.”
Giving his full attention to Nick, Wes studied her as he continued. “Franky claims it’s nothing, but I’d rather Adam took a look at it since he’s already out here. He’ll be right back.” Wes moved closer and motioned with his head for Lloyd to finish banking the fire. “What’s wrong, Nick?”
“Nothing,” she lied, instinctively gliding her fingers over her gun belt. “I just need to talk to Adam.”
“Don’t try and fool me, kid. Something’s bothering you.” Wes rolled a cigarette and knelt to touch a stick to the fire.
Nichole didn’t want to alarm Wes without reason, but he had a right to know. “Adam told you how I was on the stage that got attacked?”
“He told me and I wasn’t at all surprised you survived.” He brought the tip of the burning stick to his cigarette, then stepped away from the fire with her at his side. “Nick, I know you’re a beautiful woman. Adam can’t seem to keep his eyes off you, but I never forget you were a Shadow. To have stayed alive, you must have senses most people don’t. During the war, if you went through half what those men did-”
“I went through all that the men did,” she countered. “And while I’m correcting you, Adam doesn’t care about me in the way you think. He looks at me as only someone he should protect until Wolf comes. I’m only part of a promise he made to my brother.”
“Like hell he does,” Wes mumbled. “But before we argue that, tell me what you see in the darkness that I’ve missed. You walked over to the horses to toss the water, but you returned with the movements of a seasoned fighter on enemy ground.”
Nick explained about how she’d hid near the stage and saw men watering horses after they’d robbed the stage. “One of the raiders rode a paint marked just like the one over there,” she ended, pointing toward the horses.
“There are lots of paints,” Wes added.
“Does the rider have a belt with silver conchos on it?”
“Maybe.” Wes nodded. “But most of the good herders come from Mexico and several of them wear the belts.”
She grew frustrated with his denial. “Your circle of guards will do no good if the enemy infiltrates the ring. They can kill your men one at a time if they are already among them.”
“Without anyone hearing?” Wes shook his head.
Nick moved her finger across her throat. “Somehow they were able to slit the throats of both the men driving the stage without me hearing a word.”
“But how-”
“The stage line reported one male passenger. I remember him as young, about average size. He could have gotten as close as your men would let the bandits, since they’re working for you. They’d each die before they could make a sound.”
The grim facts finally settled over Wes’s face. “The men are already on post for the night. What do you suggest?”
“They won’t make their move until the camp’s settled down. It’s to their advantage to have as many men sleeping as possible. When are you moving out?”
