their watchful vigilance over the place.’’
Wes raised an eyebrow. ‘‘You mean this is the Catlin ranch’s security?’’
Gideon nodded. ‘‘I call them the Old Guard. They may be crippled and all used up, but one thing you got to know. To the man, they’d die for Victoria… or kill for her.’’
Wes pushed back from the railing. ‘‘Take me to meet these heroes.’’
As he walked down the stairs, he thought of what happened to a man who had no family when he aged. These men weren’t farmers. Their skills had kept them alive long enough to leave them starving when their fists no longer struck hard and their aims wavered. No one else would have hired them. There weren’t enough homes to take in orphans, much less the aging loners and warriors. Old women were valued for all they could do to help, but who would value an old buffalo hunter or frontier fighter?
Wes met them one at a time. Listening to their stories, remembering their names. He could see it in their eyes, in the strained hardness of their handshakes. These men were an army. They didn’t need a commander. They only needed direction. Each would man his post until the end of his watch.
Wes stepped up on the edge of the fountain and raised his hands. ‘‘Thank you for coming so quickly to my aid.’’
‘‘We didn’t come for you!’’ yelled a barreled-shaped man with gun belts crossing his chest. ‘‘We come to protect Miss Victoria.’’
Several others nodded.
Wes took a deep breath. This wasn’t going to be easy. ‘‘I’ve outlined a plan of defense.’’
‘‘Don’t need no plan!’’ A bald warrior who looked like he ate men for breakfast grunted. ‘‘We know what to do, sonny.’’
‘‘Yeah,’’ another complained. ‘‘We don’t need no pup of a Yank telling us nothin’.’’
‘‘But I was a captain in-’’ Wes began.
‘‘And I was a colonel when you was still having your mama hold you out the window to drip.’’
The crowd laughed. These men were loners who balked at suggestions. Who knows, Wes thought, they might shoot at a direct order. He didn’t feel like being used in target practice.
Anger boiled in Wes. He needed their help, but his pride wouldn’t let him beg, and he’d be a fool to bully. None of them looked like they had a heart anyway. He’d been wasting his time. ‘‘Look!’’ he yelled. ‘‘Trouble’s coming.’’
If he’d expected to alarm them, he was greatly disappointed.
‘‘Trouble’s always coming!’’ hollered a one-eyed man who called himself Dillon.
Wes glanced at the man to argue, but found himself trying to decide which side of Dillon’s face was uglier-the side with an evil eye staring him down, or the one with a sunken socket.
‘‘Trouble’s my middle name,’’ Slone, the one whose bullets hung in anXacross his chest, answered. ‘‘I’m already here.’’
‘‘I’ve been itching for a fight so bad I done scratched to the bone,’’ another shouted. ‘‘If there’s gonna be fighting, ain’t nobody better kill them all before I get my shot.’’
Several agreed that, if they were attacked, each man only got to kill one until every man had had a turn. Each suddenly seemed to feel the need to describe a killing he’d participated in.
‘‘Young fellow, you go on in with the women,’’ ordered the one who called himself a colonel. ‘‘We’ll take this watch.’’
Wes fought the urge to slug a man old enough to be his grandfather. In the army, the bars on Wes’s shoulders had always won him respect. But now, he didn’t have the time to figure out how to unite them. They began moving away, talking in small groups, paying no more attention to him.
Wes felt a small hand slip into his. He looked down into Allie’s tired blue eyes. He’d left her asleep in a chair. Sleep still drifted across her face, along with worry.
‘‘What’s wrong?’’ He guided her onto the step.
‘‘The sheriff is asking for you.’’ She didn’t turn loose of his hand. When she moved beside him, her body brushed his.
Wes nodded in response to her request, but for a moment he just wanted to be near. And from the way she leaned against him, he guessed she wanted the same thing. All night, he’d watched her work beside Victoria. The only time he’d touched her had been when he’d covered her up after she’d fallen asleep.
Every time he’d entered the room, his gaze had been drawn to her, as if he had to locate her before the world was in balance.
‘‘I missed you,’’ he whispered next to her ear.
‘‘I’ve been right here,’’ she answered.
His free hand cupped her chin, and he turned her face to the sun. ‘‘Not near enough.’’
Just as he lowered his lips to hers, he heard it. Silence.
Wes froze, an inch away from her mouth. Slowly, he turned his head.
Every man in the place silently stared at Allie.
He felt her fear. Her grip on his fingers tightened. She moved closer, as if she could vanish against him.
‘‘What is it?’’ he snapped, angry that they’d frightened her. In truth, he’d forgotten the ‘‘Old Guard’’ the minute she’d touched his hand.
But none of them answered. Several removed hats. A few walked closer without taking their gaze off Allie. One even scrubbed his eyes with the back of a dirty hand as if trying to improve his sight.
‘‘They see it,’’ Gideon whispered from behind Wes. ‘‘They all do. They see Victoria reflected in her face.’’
Wes leaned down. ‘‘It’s all right,’’ he said to Allie. ‘‘You’ve nothing to be afraid of.’’
She straightened. ‘‘I’m not afraid.’’ Her grip didn’t lessen on his hand, but the touch of stubbornness was back.
Wes faced the army. ‘‘Gentlemen,’’ he almost choked on the word, ‘‘I’d like you to meet Allie, my wife. We need your help protecting her and the others here within these walls.’’
The man who’d said he’d been a colonel marched toward Wes. ‘‘Luther Ashford Attenbury, reporting for assignment.’’ His words were for Wes, but his gaze never left Allie’s face.
He drew a saber from his waist and saluted Allie in true cavalry style.
The one-eyed man was next. He tipped his slouch hat and mumbled, ‘‘Dillon, ma’am. My folks were too poor to give me two names. Just Dillon. I’m at your service. All you have to do is call.’’
One by one, the others followed, most using titles that had prefaced their names years ago. A marshal, a sergeant, a scout, a captain.
There was no need for Allie to comment. They were not meeting her, only pledging allegiance to her with their introductions.
Wes helped her down from the fountain ledge and walked toward the house. He knew he’d have no trouble with passing out assignments when he returned. Their love for Victoria spilled over to Allie.
He walked past Katherine as he entered the hallway. ‘‘You two will not get away with passing her off as my sister’s granddaughter.’’ Her words were layered in hate.
‘‘I’m not trying to get away with anything. Allie doesn’t want the Catlin money. You and Michael can have it all when the old woman dies, provided she doesn’t outlive you both,’’ he shouted over his shoulder as he hurried to reach Hardy. ‘‘Just stay out of my way.’’
Katherine didn’t have time for rebuttal. She stopped at the doorway as though she’d been banned from the sickroom. Her brittle frame stood rigid a moment, looking as though she might storm the place, then she vanished.
Victoria raised her head at the sound of Wes’s footsteps. ‘‘Mr. McLain. Maxwell wishes to talk to you.’’
Without the use of a cane, Victoria moved away from the bed that had been made on a couch.
Wes knelt on one knee. ‘‘Maxwell?’’
The old man smiled. ‘‘Thanks for bringing me.’’ His voice barely passed his lips. ‘‘Allie will be safe here. There’s no way into the compound unless someone unbolts a door from the inside. With a few guns you could hold off an attack.’’
Wes agreed.
‘‘You met the Old Guard?’’
‘‘I met them.’’
