Silver-Tongued Devil Page 6

  “I brought the book I started reading to you when we were snowed in. You seemed to like it and I wondered if you’d finished it?”

  Such sweetness in her. He just wanted to lap it up. “No, haven’t had much time for readin’ beyond the ‘land for sale’ section of the newspaper.” Although the glove on his hand kept him from feeling the smooth warmth of her skin, he couldn’t help but stroke the cute dent in her chin anyway. “I’d like to hear the rest of the story about a time machine. Who thinks up that crazy kinda stuff?”

  “H.G. Wells has a vivid imagination, that’s for certain.”

  “Tell you what. While I get us some water, why don’t you pick a spot to spread out?”

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  Silas grabbed a glass jar and lid from the cabin and filled it with the cold, clean water from the hand pump. One of the first things he’d done after buying this place was dig a well, so he didn’t have to haul water from the creek.

  He quickly washed his hands, forearms and face and set off in search of her.

  Dinah had chosen a spot in the open meadow that resembled a wildflower garden. Pale green sagebrush abounded as did purple bluebell flowers, clumps of yellow meadow gold, and the occasional scarlet patch of Indian paintbrush. She sat in the middle of the white blanket, her legs stretched out in front of her, her arms braced behind her as she tipped her face to the sun. Her relaxed posture and soft smile defined serene.

  And he felt it too. Dinah being here gave him a sense of peace. Of rightness.

  She opened her eyes as he approached, and her smile broadened. “I see why you love this place so much. I’m afraid I wouldn’t get much ranch work done. I’d be too tempted to lollygag out here in the sun among the wildflowers.”

  He grinned at her. “I ain’t feelin’ a bit guilty about not bein’ out building fence when I have a chance to lollygag with you.”

  “Let’s eat first.” Dinah pulled out the food she’d packed. Sliced pork sandwiches with a layer of salty lard smeared on the bread, wedges of pale-yellow cheese and some kind of dessert.

  He poked at it. “What’s this?”

  “Apple spice cake with brown sugar frosting.” She sent him a teasing look. “It’s no sugar pie, but I think you’ll like it.”

  “If you made it, I’m sure I will.”

  They ate in silence. He liked that she didn’t constantly chatter like a squirrel. They shared the water and when he offered to make coffee later, they decided to save the cake for then.

  Silas set his hat aside and stretched out on the blanket with his arms behind his head. “I’m stuffed. That was a treat, Dinah. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She’d resumed her previous pose of basking in the sun. He wished he could ask her to lie down beside him, but she’d probably panic so he let it be.

  For now.

  “What’s goin’ through your mind?”

  “Questions. Lots and lots of questions.”

  “About?”

  Turning her head, Dinah peered at him curiously. “You. Your life before you came to Wyoming. How you ended up in Crook County. Your family—besides Jonas.”

  He chuckled. “You do have lots of questions. Guess it’d be best if I started at the beginning. Me n’ Jonas were born in Boston about a year after our parents came to America from Ireland. We didn’t have nothin’. Lived in the two-room ‘factory’ housing that was a benefit of the manufacturing plant where they both worked. I remember bein’ hungry. We were left alone a lot, bein’s our parents worked or were sleepin’ from workin’ so much. We ran with a bunch of other kids who were in the same situation.”

  “Did you go to school?”

  “Yep. Factory-run school, so at least we had one meal a day.” He shifted positions when a rock dug into his bruised spine. “When we were ten, there was a big fire at the plant and both of our parents died.”

  She reached for his hand and squeezed. “Oh Silas. That’s awful.”

  He threaded their fingers together. She didn’t pull away, so he resumed talking. “We were luckier than other kids because our folks were devout Catholics. Seriously devout. The Catholic orphanage took us in. We had school and church every day, even in the summer, plus we had chores to do. Might make me callous to say this, but we were better off in the orphanage than when our parents were alive. But space was limited so at age thirteen they kicked you out.”

  “Just out into the street?”

  “Yeah. That’s when it paid not to’ve been a problem kid. Father O’Flaherty and our folks were from the same part of Ireland, so when our time to leave came, he booked us passage on a train to Denver with other orphans.” He let his thumb steal across the silky skin on the inside of her wrist. “Talk about an adventure. Two town kids finally seein’ what lay outside the smoke and grime of the city. After we reached Denver and we didn’t have no one to claim us, then they’d let other people lookin’ for kids or workers come in and talk to you.”

  “You got to choose where you went?”

  “Sorta. I mean we wouldn’t be allowed not to choose. Father O’Flaherty had given us paperwork that required me’n Jonas to stay together. It was an incentive because whoever picked us to work for them got paid double. This rough-lookin’ guy wearin’ the oddest clothes and boots that jingled was the first to talk to us. His name was Jeb and he was a drover. We didn’t know what that was, and he explained he was in charge of movin’ cattle all across the West. Down south from Texas, up north to Montana and even east to Kansas. He made it sound like heaven; ridin’ horses on the range, roundin’ up strays, movin’ them across ragin’ rivers and over the plains, dodgin’ Indian raids and outlaws. Sleepin’ beneath the stars every night. Eatin’ by a campfire.” Silas laughed. “Lord, he gave us the hard sell and we fell for it.”

  “What did he have you and Jonas doing?”

  “We were ‘camp boys’ to start, which meant all the crap jobs plus learnin’ to run the remuda.”

  “Remuda?”

  “The extra horses. Each cowhand—cowpunchers, they called themselves both—needed three horses to rotate in to ride, since we were on the trail for between three and five months. So me’n Jonas had to keep the remuda in line while the cowpunchers dealt with the cattle.”

  “How many cowpunchers were on the drive?”

  “Between ten to fifteen, dependin’ on how many cattle we were runnin’.”

  “You and Jonas had to deal with up to thirty extra horses every day?”

  “Yep. Eventually we worked our way up to cowhands. I’d never been so tired in my life. Took two solid years until I got used to it. But them cowpunchers also taught us everything we needed to survive. How to hunt and fish. How to rope and ride. How to shoot guns and use knives. How to track men and animals. How to doctor men and animals. How to play cards and drink whiskey. How to charm the ladies. How to tell a good story. How to navigate by the stars. Never spent a turn cookin’ with the chuckwagon, but everything else was fair game.” He paused. “I loved it and I’m grateful every damn day that we were chosen to learn that life, ’cause a lot of other orphans ended up like Jimmy. But by the time I was nineteen, I realized I wanted my own ranch, responsible only for myself, my land and my own livestock.”

  “You never wanted to do anything else?” she asked.

  “Nope. But Jonas did. While he did his part workin’ the cattle, Jonas took to ridin’ like he’d been born on horseback. He also stayed calm in situations that had other men reachin’ for their guns. Whenever we’d come across marshals or a posse, he’d spend hours talkin’ to them and one group deputized him. While he was excited he’d found his path, that meant we’d be on separate paths for the first time in our lives.”

  Again, Dinah squeezed his hand. “Was that hard?”

  “Yeah. Especially since we’re twins. We’d always been together. So for the first couple of months after he was gone, I’d pose one of the ridiculous questions that kills the boredom on a drive and the rider to my left would go
ggle at me as if I was crazy as a loon. I’d gotten so used to Jonas ridin’ next to me that it was weird and sad when he wasn’t. Anyway, I kept on movin’ cattle. Saved my money. I found this place one day searchin’ for strays. Campbell, the guy who owned it, wanted out. None of his livestock had made it through the winter and he was lookin’ for a buyer.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Four years.”

  “How old are you?”

  He smirked at her. “How old do you think I am?”

  “At least thirty-seven,” she teased.

  “Funny. I’m twenty-five. How old are you?”

  “I turned twenty last month.”

  “Practically an old maid, then, huh?”

  “Hush, you. Keep going with the Silas saga.”

  He sighed. “Let’s see…livin’ out in the middle of nowhere Crook County…oh right. Jonas tracked me down about two years ago. Said he needed a break from chasin’ outlaws and sleepin’ on the ground. Labelle had a job opening for a deputy, but I know it’s boring work. He claims he’s fine here, but I sense his restlessness. He helps out if I ask, but ranchin’ ain’t his thing.”

  “And you? Do you ever feel restless?”

  Silas lifted his head and studied her. It seemed more than a casual question. “I don’t have the itch to move someplace else. This is my home. But I do get impatient with not havin’ the funds to expand the McKay Ranch as fast as I’d like. So I just gotta bide my time and build my ranch acre by acre.”

  Recognition lit her eyes. “That’s why you play cards. To earn money quicker so you can buy more land.”

  “Sounds like a good way to end up with less money, don’t it?”

  “Not if you’re skillful at it. Which you must be if Zeke West keeps challenging you.”

  His chest puffed out a bit at hearing how fast she rose to his defense. “I’m not wastin’ this precious time with you by talkin’ about that idiot. Now it’s your turn to detail Dinah’s life and how you came to be in Crook County.”

  Dinah pushed to her knees and reached in the saddlebag to pull out The Time Machine. “Let’s save that story for another time. I’d rather find out what the Eloi and the Morlocks are up to in their story. Now where were we…?”

  It was sweet that she’d bookmarked the page with the piece of paper he’d doodled on while he’d been listening to her read last time.

  “In a moment I knew what had happened. I had slept, and my fire had gone out, and the cold bitterness of death had come over my soul.”

  Silas concentrated on the sound and inflections in her voice. He could listen to her speak for hours.

  After several pages of Dinah fidgeting, Silas promised he’d behave if she stretched out beside him and got comfortable.

  That’s how Jonas found them: Dinah lying on her front with her ankles crossed behind her and reading from the book as she rested on her elbows, while Silas laid on his side, head propped on his hand, enthralled with her and the story.

  Dinah hadn’t jumped up as if they’d been caught doing something wrong when Jonas’s horse thundered up, young Jimmy on another horse behind him. She just pressed her finger to the sentence she’d stopped on so she wouldn’t lose her place when she glanced up.

  “What in the devil is goin’ on?” Jonas demanded.

  “He’s resting, as per Doc’s recommendation,” she answered coolly.

  “Silas was supposed to be resting at Doc’s place until I fetched him. I went there and found out he’d left hours ago.”

  “You know that cattle don’t wait until afternoon, Jonas.” Silas sat up and grimaced from the sharp pain. “Dinah helped me with chores and we’ve been out here enjoyin’ each other’s company.”

  When Jonas appeared skeptical, Silas held up his hand. “Ain’t it better we’re out here where anyone can see what we’re doin’, rather than us bein’ alone in the cabin, givin’ people a chance to tell tales about what we might’ve been up to? Besides, ain’t no one ever stops by to sit and visit a spell with me.”

  “That’s because you’re a damn hermit.” Jonas sighed. “I wasn’t gonna say nothin’ about what you two were doin’. I intended to ask Dinah if she wanted me or Jimmy to ready her horse for the ride back to Doc’s.”

  “Who said she’s leavin’?”

  “I figured she’d prefer to head out with Jimmy before it gets dark. Since you’re ‘resting’ on Doc’s orders and can’t escort her back home.”

  “Your brother is right.” Dinah rolled to her feet. “I have my own chores to finish before supper.” She looked at Jimmy and pointed. “My tack is hanging over the fence.”

  “I’ll get it right now, Miss,” he said and spurred away.

  However, Jonas, that nosy bastard, hadn’t moved.

  As Dinah started to tuck everything back into the saddlebag, Silas realized they hadn’t eaten the tasty-looking dessert. “Can’t you at least stay and have cake with me?”

  “I’ll leave both pieces here for you and Jonas.”

  “I ain’t sure he’s deserving of your special cake,” he said sourly.

  “Silas McKay. He carried you to Doc’s after your fight last night, remember? You can share one piece of cake with him.” She tapped his cheek and made a less-than-sympathetic clicking noise with her tongue. “You know I’ll make more anytime you ask.”

  That perked him up some. Silas carried her saddlebag as they slowly made their way back to the corral. “When can I see you next?” he asked.

  “When would you like to see me?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Excellent. Church is at nine. Then there’s a community social in Sundance after the various services finish.” She crowded close enough to him their boot tips met. “And I’ll remind you that is an all or nothing option only. You come to church and you can escort me to the social. But you cannot skip church and slide in next to me at the social for a slice of pie, Silas.”

  Shrewd woman had figured him out pretty quick. He pasted on a smile. “Guess I’ll see you in church, darlin’.”

  She smiled. “I’d like that.”

  They didn’t linger with further goodbyes. Still he felt guilty watching Dinah ride off with Jimmy when it should be him seeing after her.

  Jonas had turned out his horse before he sauntered up to where Silas was watching the dust clouds swirling in the sun’s dying rays. “Everything all right?”

  “Yep.”

  “How you feelin’?”

  “Like someone kicked the shit outta me.”

  “I figured as much. But I brought something that’ll dull those aches.” He waggled a bottle of whiskey. “You interested?”

  “Heck yeah. Dinah left a couple of pieces of cake for us.”

  “Looks like we’ve got supper covered.”

  They walked side by side back to the house.

  “You up for a game of cards?” Jonas asked.

  Silas gave him the side-eye. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Oh, you know that old sayin’…lucky at cards, unlucky in love. I think the reverse might be true now that you’re courtin’ Miss Thompson and you’re lookin’ all moon-eyed in love. I’d hate to take advantage.”

  “Shut up.”

  Jonas laughed.

  Silas reached over and shoved him.

  Chapter Seven

  Dinah hadn’t ever spent so much time getting ready for church.

  Standing in her pantalets, she sorted through her clothing choices, wishing she’d had time to finish sewing the new summer lawn dress in cheery green gingham she’d started after school had ended. But so far, she’d been too busy running the house and helping Doc while Mrs. Agnes recuperated.

  Her fingers stopped at the fawn-colored velvet skirt. It wasn’t too heavy for such a lovely spring day. She could wear the buttercream-hued shirtwaist with it. Thankfully she’d fancied up the simple placket by embroidering colorful flowers down the center. Her only fitted jacket was winter-weight, so she opted for the soft-pink cashmere s
hawl her mother had knitted when times were flush for the Thompson family.

  After dressing and buttoning up her white dress boots, she debated on hat choices. She loathed the current fashion of garish, gargantuan headpieces, feathered with entire birds’ nests tucked into the fabric. She’d assured herself that even if she had the money to purchase the latest style, she wouldn’t choose anything so gaudy.

  Snagging a long pink ribbon from her sewing stash, she carefully tied it around her straw hat, twisting the ends into a bow at the back and letting the extra lengths hang down.

  She turned sideways, checking her reflection in the mirror. Last evening before bed, she’d dampened her hair and twisted sections of it in rags to create the lovely loose curls that reached the middle of her back. She’d pulled the front pieces straight back and created a pouf with two silver combs. At least her hair would look stylish regardless of whether she wore the hat.

  Two knocks sounded on her door. “Dinah, dear? Are you ready?”

  “Yes. Be right out.”

  Doc had already loaded the basket of food for the social and hitched the horse to the buggy.

  Dinah clambered up and took her place beside Doc on the wooden bench seat. Part of her felt guilty for leaving Mrs. Agnes at home alone; another part felt she deserved some social interaction.

  And she was really looking forward to seeing Silas again.

  Doc’s place was on the outskirts of LaBelle, and a thirty-minute buggy ride into Sundance. Although several businesses from Sundance, such as Sackett’s Saloon and Harker’s Hardware, had opened storefronts in the township, complementing the existing mercantile, the area was still considered a “cow town.”

  Sundance, however, considered itself to be a “real town.” Since Sundance was the Crook County seat, it had a lovely three-story brick courthouse as the town’s centerpiece. There were also three churches, seven saloons, three general stores, a livery and blacksmith’s, a hatmaker’s and a dressmaker’s, a shoe store, a barbershop, a hotel with a restaurant, two other dining establishments and a community center. The town also was proud of its municipal band and baseball team, which hosted tournaments that drew spectators from Wyoming and South Dakota.