"Never mind that," Sawyer told her, drawing her down beside him, holding her close. She resisted at first, but he felt so warm and strong and solid, and she lost herself in that.
They lay together for a long while, both of them engulfed in a kind of sad silence, thinking their own thoughts.
CHAPTER 8.
Clay showed up at the schoolhouse soon after the morning fire was built up and the coffee was brewing on the stove, aghast at the news of last night"s shooting. Piper and Sawyer were both fully clothed when he finally arrived, she in another inadequate calico, he in trousers and a shirt from his travel trunk.
Having ridden to town on his own gelding, Sawyer"s horse, Cherokee, trotting alongside on a lead rope, the erstwhile marshal of Blue River, Texas, left both animals standing in the muddy yard, among ragged patches of dirty snow. A vivid blotch of red remained on the ground where Mr. Duggins had been felled by Bess Turner, making Piper wish for more snow to cover it up.
Sawyer"s cousin barely paused to knock, bursting through the front door before Piper could call out a "Come in."
"I"m sorry I couldn"t get here before now," Clay announced, pa.s.sing right on over "good-morning" or even just a "howdy" in his hurry to get Sawyer"s report on the events just past. His gaze moved over both of them, probably in search of fresh injury. "It was late when Pete brought word of what happened, and I was tending a sick calf-"
Sawyer, standing near the stove, interrupted with a chuckle. "You might want to hire Bess Turner as marshal, instead of me," he said. "She"s mighty good with a shotgun." With that, he poured coffee into a mug and extended it to Clay, who accepted it gratefully.
Piper, wearing an ap.r.o.n to protect her dress, blurted, "Sawyer"s got his mind set on going after the man who hired that killer."
"Hold on, now," Clay said, lowering the coffee to look from one of them to the other in plain consternation. "We"re getting ahead of ourselves, here. Tell me what happened, and don"t leave anything out."
Sawyer, after slicing a mildly reproving glance at Piper, gave a brief but complete account of all that had happened the previous night.
When he"d heard the whole story, Clay gave a long, low whistle of exclamation, and took a thirsty sip from his coffee mug before saying, "d.a.m.n. And here it is, almost Christmas."
Piper wasn"t sure what the approach of the holiday had to do with anything, but she wasn"t clearheaded enough to pursue the matter at the moment.
Sawyer stood calmly, his own coffee in hand, the mug raised almost to his mouth but not quite there. "It was an eventful day," he said. "Piper and I got married."
Clay fairly choked on a mouthful of coffee, but he was grinning when he caught his breath. "What?" he said.
"I believe you heard me the first time," Sawyer replied. "Given what my staying here has done to the lady"s reputation, there didn"t seem to be any other course of action."
Clay peered at Piper, who blushed. "You agreed to this?"
Glumly, twisting her wedding band round and round with the fingers of her right hand, Piper nodded. "Yes," she murmured.
Clay gave a burst of delighted laughter but just as quickly sobered again, his expression turning watchful and wary. "Is this marriage real, or just some kind of ruse to keep the townspeople from gossiping for the rest of the school term?"
There was no need to say that Piper wouldn"t be teaching at Blue River again in the fall. For all the good it seemed to be doing her, she was married. The school board would probably hire a man to replace her, if they could find one. Failing that, they"d settle for a single woman but, either way, she was as good as out.
"It"s real," Sawyer said.
"Sort of," Piper clarified.
"Which is it?" Clay asked, somewhat impatiently, once again looking from one of them to the other. "Real, or asort of" real?"
Piper couldn"t have answered to save her life. Her throat had closed off and her face felt like it was on fire.
"My wife," Sawyer explained, "is probably referring to the fact that we"ve yet to consummate the marriage."
Piper"s blush deepened. How could the man speak so casually of something so intimately personal? She wanted to throttle him, then and there.
"Oh," said Clay, blushing a little himself. "Well, anyhow, congratulations. Of course Dara Rose will have a thing or two to say about missing out on the wedding, but she"ll be pleased, too."
All of them were quiet for a while.
Piper, desperate for something to do, proceeded to walk over and ring the schoolhouse bell, pulling vigorously on the rope, though she knew no one would come to cla.s.s that day despite the fact that the weather had turned and the trails, if muddy, were pa.s.sable. There had, after all, been a death, right out there in the front yard, and while the danger was past, folks would probably need a day or two to get used to the idea before they sent their children back.
Clay and Sawyer talked quietly all the while, though the bell drowned them out, which was fine with Piper.
"You brought Cherokee," Sawyer said to Clay, after the last peal died away. He was standing at the front window then, looking out, and there was no mistaking the relief in his voice. This only underscored Piper"s fears-Sawyer would be leaving Blue River, and her, soon.
"I was thinking you might be ready to come out to the ranch with me," Clay admitted to Sawyer, looking a little sheepish when Piper caught his eye. "That was before I knew about the wedding, you understand."
Sawyer smiled. "I"ll be staying here until after the Christmas program," he said. "Then, if it"s feasible, Piper and I will both head out to your place."
Clay nodded, but he still seemed befuddled. "Shall I take the horse back with me, then?" he asked.
But Sawyer shook his head, turning again to admire the magnificent animal through the grubby gla.s.s in the window. "I can"t ride much, but I ought to be able to handle a few minutes in the saddle, now and then, just so I don"t forget how."
Clay smiled at that, but when he looked Piper"s way again, she saw concern in his handsome face. "Well, then," he said, just a little too heartily, "I guess it"s a good thing I brought that hay and grain in the other day, on the sledge. One question, though, cousin-how are you going to manage that saddle with only one usable arm?"
"I"ll find a way," Sawyer said, without a trace of doubt.
Clay finished his coffee, set his cup down alongside the basin, on the small table near the stove. "You say this Duggins yahoo"s carca.s.s is laid out over at the jailhouse?"
Sawyer nodded. "Doc Howard wants him buried right away," he said dryly. "Figures a funeral might put a damper on Christmas."
Clay nodded, rubbing his chin. Unlike Sawyer, he"d shaved recently, and there was no visible stubble. "That wouldn"t do," he murmured thoughtfully. "Wouldn"t do at all." He crossed to the door, took his hat from the peg where he"d hung it up coming in. "I"ll send a wire to the federal marshal in Austin," he said. "Just a formality, really." He paused, cleared his throat. "Of course I"ll be mentioning Henry Vandenburg"s part in this."
Piper saw a muscle bunch in Sawyer"s jaw, even under his thickening beard. "n.o.body can be arrested on mere hearsay, Clay. You know that."
"The federal marshal still has to be told," Clay said. Although his manner was cordial, there was steel in his tone. "What he does with the information is his concern, not ours."
"I want to handle this," Sawyer said, glaring at his cousin.
"Fine," Clay retorted, on his way out. "If there"s anything left to handle by the time you"re fit to travel, you just have at it with my blessing. In the meantime, I"m still marshal and I"ll do what needs doing."
Sawyer started to argue, Piper saw, but he ended up giving an exasperated sigh and shoving the splayed fingers of his good hand through his hair in frustration. "All right, then," he said, "but I"m going to the jailhouse with you."
Evidently, Clay was willing to concede that much, if nothing more. "You say Bess Turner shot this fella?" he asked, refraining from helping as his cousin struggled halfway into his coat. Sawyer had a harder time buckling on his gun belt but, somehow, he managed it, and slipped the .45 deftly into the holster.
Chilled, and not by the weather, Piper hurried to the window when the men went outside, watched as Sawyer put a foot in the stirrup of Cherokee"s saddle, gripped the horn, and hauled himself up onto the horse"s back. She saw him clench his jaw again, once he was in place, and close his eyes briefly, but other than that, he seemed steady.
Clay and Sawyer were gone upward of an hour, during which time Piper hoped in vain for a pupil or two to wander in, hungry for learning. Because she believed with her whole heart and mind that idle hands were the devil"s workshop, she polished all the desks, swept the floors, made up the two beds and fussed with the straggly Christmas tree, with its burden of una.s.suming decorations.
When the men returned, Doc Howard was with them, on his mule. All three of them looked grimly introspective, and little wonder.
A man was dead.
In the schoolyard, Sawyer dismounted on his own, but he leaned against Cherokee"s side for an extra second or so before stepping back and surrendering the reins to Clay, who led the animal around back to the shed.
Doc walked up to the patch of b.l.o.o.d.y ground and scuffed at it with one foot, as though to kick dirt over the place where death had left its distinctive mark. He conferred with Sawyer for a few moments, then followed Clay to the shed, returning with a rusted shovel in one hand.
While Sawyer watched, his feet planted a little wider apart than usual as if in an effort to maintain his balance, Doc used the shovel to turn up enough ground to hide the blood spot.
Piper stepped back from the window just as Sawyer turned and started for the door. She tried to look surprised when he came inside, closely followed by Doc, but she knew by Sawyer"s wry expression that she hadn"t fooled him. He"d never glanced in her direction even once, but he"d known she was at the window, watching, just the same.
"I made more coffee," she said, noting the pallor in Sawyer"s face.
He merely nodded, and went on into the bedroom. She heard the bedsprings creak as he lay down.
"He might have overdone things a little," Doc remarked quietly, taking off his hat and coat and hanging them both in the cloakroom.
Piper didn"t comment on the understatement. "Coffee?" she said instead.
Doc nodded. "Please," he said, looking around for a place to sit down. He was a st.u.r.dy man, so none of the students" desks would have held him.
Piper pointed to the chair behind her desk, and he took it gratefully. "I"m a dentist," he said, as though to remind himself and the world at large of his true calling.
She poured his coffee and took it to him, with a slight, sympathetic smile, barely resisting the temptation to pat his shoulder rea.s.suringly and say, "There, there."
Clay came in, having tended to Sawyer"s horse, and looked around for his cousin.
"Sawyer"s resting," Piper said. "Coffee?"
"Got any whiskey?" Clay asked.
"Sorry," Piper replied, with a little shake of her head.
Clay sighed and said, "I"ll take the coffee, then, please."
While Piper poured the brew, he went into the bedroom, stayed a few moments, and came back with the rocking chair. He offered it to Piper and, when she refused with a shake of her head, sank into it with an exhalation of breath.
Piper gave him the mug. "Did you send that wire?" she asked Clay, keeping her voice down even though she was fairly sure Sawyer wouldn"t overhear her anyway. "To the federal marshal in Austin, I mean?"
"Yes," Clay said, after taking a sip of his coffee. "And I told him Duggins claimed he"d been hired by a fellow named Vandenburg."
"Well, then," Piper said, unable to hide her relief, "no doubt someone will investigate." And, thus, she deduced, Sawyer would not go riding off, the moment he was physically able, to confront the man who"d wanted him dead.
Clay pondered that for a while, then said ruefully, "Sawyer was right. It"s mainly hearsay. The marshal might question Vandenburg, but unless he admits to hiring Duggins, the man"s not likely to be arrested."
Piper felt something curl up tight in the bottom of her stomach. How did Dara Rose bear it, being married to a lawman? Was she afraid for Clay every time he pinned on his badge, strapped on a gun belt, and left home to do his job?
"Then Sawyer won"t be able to get him to admit anything, either," she reasoned, her tone bordering on pettish, though what she really felt was fear.
"Vandenburg hired a killer," Clay reminded her flatly, "and Sawyer was shot. Something has to be done, Piper."
"Maybe Mr. Duggins committed the crime all on his own," Piper argued, more than a little frantic now. "He was a criminal. It could be that Mr. Vandenburg knew nothing about the plan."
"Yes," Clay said dryly, "and St. Nicholas might join us for Christmas Eve supper at the ranch. Men like Duggins don"t act on their own, Piper. They take orders from somebody else."
Doc Howard cleared his throat just then, reminding both Clay and Piper of his presence. It was strange how such a large personage could take up so little thought-s.p.a.ce that he went unnoticed.
Piper glowered at Clay and then at Doc, for good measure, and marched into the bedroom to check on Sawyer.
He lay sprawled atop the covers, with his muddy boots on the bed, further staining the already ruined quilt, but Piper"s ire ebbed like an outgoing tide at the sight of him.
She approached Sawyer"s bedside, smoothed his hair back from his forehead, and smiled a little. The future was full of uncertainty, but, for this moment at least, he was alive and safe, where she could see him, touch him.
She loved Sawyer McKettrick, she realized. What else could this feeling of sweet desolation mean?
Sawyer didn"t open his eyes, but he took her hand in his, gave her fingers a brief squeeze, as if he"d read her mind.
Tears brimmed along her lower lashes as she bent and placed the lightest of kisses on his forehead. I love you, she told him silently, and then slipped out of the room because Doc had come in again, his sleeves rolled up and his hands still wet from washing, a basin of clean water in his hands and a roll of bandage cloth under one elbow.
Clay was still in the rocking chair when she returned, looking at the Christmas tree, and he stood up quickly when he realized she was there.
"Sit down, Clay," she said quietly.
But Clay shook his head. "I"d best be heading for home, anyway," he said. "There"s not much I can do here, and Dara Rose will be watching the road for me."
Piper nodded, thick-throated again. One of these days, she reckoned, she might be "watching the road," too-for Sawyer. Only, unlike Clay, he might never come back to her.
She brought herself up short. She wasn"t a real wife to Sawyer, after all, and the schoolhouse wasn"t their home. When he was well enough, her "husband" would go his way, and she would go hers.
Clay had read her expression before she realized he was looking at her, guessing her thoughts, and he laid a brotherly hand to one side of her face.
"Give Sawyer a little time," he said. "He"ll get things straight in his head pretty soon."
"He"s leaving," she said, not meaning to but unable to hold back the certainty that it was so.
"I reckon if Sawyer goes anywhere, he means to take you right along with him," Clay replied, very quietly. "I know you have your doubts, Piper, but Sawyer didn"t marry you just to save your reputation. He"s a fine man, but he"s no martyr, and he could have handled this situation a dozen different ways without standing up with you in front of a preacher."
"Name one," Piper challenged, too proud to cry but wanting to, wanting to very, very much.
Clay chuckled. "Well, he could have sent you to Dara Rose and me, for one thing. There would have been a scandal, sure, but once folks had a chance to jaw about the particulars for a while, they"d have gone on to something else, and you"d be right back here in this schoolhouse, like nothing ever happened. For one thing, teachers aren"t that easy to come by, way out here. The pay"s pitiful, and it"s a hard, lonely life."
Piper gave a small, strangled laugh. "How comforting," she said. "What was I worried about, when I have a apitiful" stipend and a hard, lonely life to look forward to?"
Clay grinned, shook his head. "I"ve never been good with words," he allowed. "What I"m trying to say is that everything will be all right in the end."
"I can"t imagine what makes you so sure of that," Piper observed.