Devils on Horseback: Nate Page 11

Elisa’s entire body flushed. She just knew her cheeks were like pink flags of naughty behavior. To think that Da had heard everything they’d said and done was more than embarrassing, it was mortifying.

  “That’s not what I meant.” Elisa’s natural defensiveness took hold. “Taking a man to your bed doesn’t mean you love him, Da. Even women have needs.”

  “Needs, is it? I’d hoped we’d brought you up better than that. Your mother, God rest her soul, taught you how to be a lady even if you don’t wear dresses. I didn’t think you would have… Tell me this. Was this the first man that you were with?” Da’s bald-faced questions made her squirm.

  Elisa swallowed the denial that rose to her lips. He knew all about it. He’d heard it. No wonder he was sitting in the kitchen. Probably too embarrassed to sit and listen any further. Had she shouted Nate’s name? She couldn’t remember.

  “Yes, Da, he was.”

  “That answers my original question then.”

  Was it that simple? Would she have given herself to anyone other than Nate? Did she love Nate?

  “Da, I’m not sure that I—”

  “I am. You’ve known love all your life, Elisa girl. You know I loved your mother, God rest her soul, more than life itself. And even though she wasn’t as strong as you, your mother gave you and Daniel all the love she had.”

  She agreed with everything he said. Elisa may have grown up without a silver spoon in her mouth, but she grew up with something even more valuable. A family who loved her and each other.

  “So I’m going to ask you one more time.” Da leaned forward, his gaze intense and focused on her. “Do you love him?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, unable or unwilling to say it louder.

  “Is he a good man?”

  Elisa wanted to say no, but it wasn’t true. Nate was a good man. “Yes, Da. He’s an honorable man, and a good man.”

  “Will he help us?”

  Anger with a healthy dose of frustration surged through her. Elisa threw the cup into the sink, coffee splattering all over the window behind it. “You’ve been sitting on that rocking chair for a year, letting me and Daniel take care of this ranch. Do you even know what’s going on? Do you care? Suddenly you’re here again and you want to know if a stranger can help us. A stranger who was hired to get us off the Taggert ranch. Where the hell have you been?”

  Da responded with only one word. “Lost.”

  Elisa’s tirade ran itself out and the hurt in her father’s eyes gave her pause. She’d never been one to mince words, always called a spade a spade, yet this time she’d done some damage. The urge overcame her and she ran to her father. As she dropped to her knees, she wrapped her arms around his waist and tears stung her eyes.

  He held her tight and whispered, “Elisa girl.”

  She finally had her father back.

  Nate readied Bonne Chance for the ride into town and then to the county seat, a city about thirty-five miles east. It would take him the better part of two days to get there and back, without running his horse into the ground. He wanted to be sure he was prepared for all eventualities, even those that required a gun.

  As he tucked the hardtack and jerky into his saddlebags, Zeke approached him with worry in his normally blank expression.

  “Jake’s not back yet.” Those four words dropped like chips of stone from Zeke’s mouth.

  “When was he due?” Nate didn’t think things could get any worse, but perhaps he’d been wrong. Again.

  Zeke looked off toward town, shading his eyes from the afternoon sun. “Almost two hours ago. He left right after he got back from relieving you. Something about stretching his legs and he offered to pick up some extra bandages.”

  “Did he specifically say when he’d be back?”

  Zeke frowned. “No, but he’s not one to be gone so long without word.”

  That was true. Jake might be a sometime thief, but he was a reliable thief who had spent the last fifteen years with the Devils. They all knew each other’s habits inside and out. If Jake was late, then something was wrong.

  “Gideon said you’re headed out for a couple of days, taking care of the Taggert business.” Zeke tucked his hands in his pockets.

  “I was planning on it, but if Jake’s in trouble then I need to stay.”

  Zeke held up one hand. “No, we need to figure out the Taggert situation. Lee can stay here with Gid while I go find Jake.” He turned his brown eyes on Nate. “Be careful.”

  It wasn’t said lightly. If anything, it sounded like a warning.

  “You do the same.”

  “Come back as quick as you can. We’ll just keep watch on the Taggerts ’til we hear from you.” Zeke shook his hand. “She won’t shoot us, will she?”

  A grin crept over Nate’s mouth. “I don’t think so. She knows what I’m doing and why. We should have at least one day without any bullets flying from Elisa.”

  What he didn’t say was that he couldn’t guarantee the bullets wouldn’t be flying from somewhere else.

  “Rider,” Lee called.

  “Is it Jake?” Zeke asked.

  “No, wrong horse and seat. I’d say it’s that son of a bitch, Rodrigo.” Lee sounded annoyed enough to shoot the man for even daring to approach their camp again.

  Rodrigo.

  Something Elisa said clicked in Nate’s mind. She’d said their foreman Rodrigo had left the ranch high and dry. Rodrigo. What were the odds it was a different man? Not likely. That meant he had intimate knowledge of the Taggerts ranch—no wonder O’Shea had been able to perpetrate such crimes. Of course, Nate was assuming Elisa had been telling the truth about everything.

  Nate ran over to Gideon, who had risen and started walking the fifteen feet to the camp. He strode as if he’d hadn’t been shot six hours earlier. Nate shook his head. His friends were amazing men.

  “I see him,” Gideon said as Nate approached.

  “I just remembered something. Rodrigo used to work for the Taggerts.”

  Gideon’s head whipped around to stare at the approaching rider. “Unfortunate for them. What did he do?”

  “Foreman.”

  “Ah, that’s where O’Shea got his information.”

  Nate made a face. “No doubt. I don’t want him to know about Jake missing or about me chasing that bill of sale. We need to keep him away from my horse.”

  “No problem. Lee can be his usual charming self.” Gideon flashed a wolfish grin.

  When Rodrigo arrived, he didn’t bother dismounting, instead he stared down at the four of them. “Where’s your friend?”

  “Busy.” Zeke’s curt reply could have cut granite.

  “Mr. O’Shea wants to know what’s happening with the Taggerts.”

  “Plenty.” Gideon’s equally short reply echoed Zeke’s.

  “You boys can deal with me or you can deal with a posse of O’Shea’s hands. Your choice.” Rodrigo sounded as if he wanted to bring the posse back just to kick the shit out of the Devils.

  Nate stepped forward. “Our original agreement was one month. We stepped up the timeline and told you two weeks, which was only three days ago. I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but rest assured, you can tell him that we are actively pursuing the rightful property situation of the Taggert ranch. I guarantee it.”

  His heart pounded at the thought that this man, this evil-looking piece of shit had been around Elisa as a young woman. No doubt he’d treated her badly and likely did all he could to destroy the Taggerts. The thought made Nate see red. Damn emotions kept getting in the way.

  “Are we to expect visits from you every three days? If so, we can be sure to have tea and biscuits ready.” Lee snickered.

  “I can kill you where you stand, put you out of your misery since you’re only half a man anyway.”

  Lee surged forward, but his brother stopped hi
m inches away from Rodrigo. Zeke held on with enough force to make the veins in his neck stand out. Lee might only have one arm, but he had the strength of a bull.

  “Tell Mr. O’Shea we send our regards.” Nate gestured to the field behind Rodrigo. “I suggest you leave now before our half a man rips your head clean off your body.”

  With one last malevolent look at Lee, Rodrigo turned his horse around to leave. “I give you three more days and then you can answer to Mr. O’Shea himself.”

  “We look forward to it.” Nate had trouble keeping the polite, stupid expression on his face. He didn’t want Rodrigo to know how much it bothered him to have to deal with such a man, or to know that he had dealt with Elisa daily. Made his skin crawl.

  When Rodrigo was just a spot on the horizon, Gideon turned to Nate. “Go now. See that attorney in town then head for the county seat. Lee, you stay here with me. Zeke, go find out what happened to Jake, quietly and without any fuss.”

  As they had countless times, the Devils took their orders and executed them without question. The tide had begun to turn and it appeared as though the Devils first business venture would fail.

  Nate only hoped they’d all be alive after it was over.

  Nate found the attorney’s office easily. It was the nicest house in town, a white clapboard with his shingle hung outside. The property was surrounded by beautiful trees and a perfect picket fence.

  Obviously Alvin Potter was successful at the lawyering business. Nate didn’t know what to expect so he had to be prepared for any eventuality. That meant he had to be ready to be friendly, formal or threatening.

  Nate dismounted and secured Bonne Chance to the fence. After a deep, calming breath, he ran his hands down his trousers and jacket, smoothing any noticeable wrinkles and removing any debris and dirt that had settled on the fabric. He ran his fingers through his hair and straightened his lapels and collar. Since he was forever cursed with five o’clock shadow, he had shaved before setting off. His jaw was as slick as any professional attorney.

  Nestled deep within his jacket pocket was the copy of the bill of sale that Elisa entrusted to him. He had to keep it safe no matter what the cost.

  As Nate stepped through the gate, he heard a small dog barking and a man’s stern voice. He couldn’t quite decipher the words but the tone told him a lot. It told him that the owner of that voice expected things to be done precisely. That was at least a small amount of preparation Nate could carry with him.

  The front porch was well-swept and well-kept, indicating a tidy man lived there. He rapped on the door three times and stepped back, his hands in front of him in a gesture of patience—something he was sorely lacking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zeke riding down the street. Nate knew whatever had happened to Jake, Zeke would take care of it. That didn’t make it any easier to ignore his fellow Devil if he needed assistance.

  The door swung open and Nate inclined his head to the man who had answered the door. He was a rotund man of middle years with a balding head and half-spectacles perched on the end of his nose. He wore a starched white shirt with a blue vest, a gold watch gleaming from its small pocket. His round belly was covered with pressed blue trousers and shoes so shiny they could double as a mirror.

  Nate drank it all in, assessing the best way to speak to Mr. Potter. “Good afternoon, sir.”

  Mr. Potter frowned, his eyebrows making a frightening, bushy V on his forehead. “Afternoon, stranger. What business do you have here?”

  “My name is Nathaniel Marchand, Mr. Potter. I am in the employ of Mr. Samuel O’Shea to take care of some business with the former Taggert property. I had hoped, sir, that I could have your assistance in locating the bill of sale to prove Mr. O’Shea’s ownership.” Nate kept his voice crisp, businesslike, yet always polite.

  “You’re working for O’Shea then?”

  “Yes, sir, I am.”

  Mr. Potter’s rheumy brown gaze glanced up and down Nate’s attire several times before he opened the door to allow him access. “I’m in the middle of something so we’ll need to make it quick.”

  “Yes, of course, I understand and I apologize for intruding.” Like hell. “I would have requested an appointment, but time is of the essence for Mr. O’Shea. He has asked my associates and me to resolve the matter post-haste.”

  “Yes, yes, of course, come in.”

  Nate stepped into a perfectly maintained house with gleaming wood furniture and not a speck of dust in sight. Potter ushered him into what appeared to be his office before Nate could get any more information to bring back to the Devils. The office was as neat as the rest of the house. Stacks of paper in regimented order, a bookcase precisely arranged, beautiful Persian carpet and an enormous desk that must have been made from two entire trees.

  “Well, you need a copy of the bill of sale for the Taggert ranch then?”

  “Yes, sir, that would be extremely helpful.”

  Potter eyed him again. “What did you say your name was?”

  “Nathaniel Marchand, sir, of D.H. Enterprises.”

  Potter’s expression didn’t waver from suspicious. “Now I can show you the bill of sale, but I can’t make a copy of it for you. You’ll have to go to Bellridge, the county seat, for that. You understand that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, sir. I had planned on traveling there for that very purpose, but I wanted to check in with you first to see if there were any additional papers that might be associated with the sale of the Taggert ranch.” Nate hoped like hell he was making sense because he felt like a fly butting its head against a gas lantern, trying desperately not to get burned.

  “Now I can’t show you any other information, Mr. Mar-chand.” When he pronounced the name incorrectly, Nate decided it was intentional. Mr. Potter liked to make people uncomfortable, probably gave him a sense of power.

  Mr. Potter rose and went to the cabinet in the corner of the office. “Sit down now, this will take me a minute or two. The sale happened a year ago or so.”

  “I understand that, sir. I also understand that the Taggerts have been somewhat, ah, difficult in accepting the sale since it was the unfortunate Mrs. Taggert who sold the ranch.”

  “Ah yes, Melissa Taggert, a beautiful woman. Too good for the likes of that mick, Taggert.”

  Nate wondered if Mr. O’Shea knew how his attorney referred to Irish people. He doubted it.

  After rifling through some papers with his chubby fingers, Potter came up with a piece of paper from deep within the cabinet.

  “Here it is. Now as I said you may look at it, but you’ll need to go to Bellridge if you want an official copy. We did give one to the family, but that wild girl is bound to have lost it. She’s headed for eternal damnation, mark my words, doesn’t listen to anything folks say. Wearing trousers and working and living all day long with men. Ruined for any kind of marriage and now this difficult situation with Mr. O’Shea.” He tut-tutted. “That girl is dancing with the devil, she is.”

  Nate’s hands fisted in his lap, but he didn’t really care if Potter could see them or not. The fact that the man talked about Elisa as if she was a wild whore made the hackles on Nate’s neck snap to attention. He knew firsthand that Elisa had been as pure as any virgin until Nate had made her otherwise, which still pricked his conscience.

  Potter came back with a paper and eased himself into a beautiful leather chair behind the enormous desk. He read through the document two times while Nate sat there pretending to be patient, pretending not to want to punch the shit out of Potter.

  Finally after what seemed like an hour, Potter held the single piece of paper out for Nate’s inspection. “This is the correct document. You may read it.”

  “Thank you kindly, Mr. Potter. I do appreciate your assistance immensely.” While his stomach threatened to return his breakfast, Nate concentrated on reading the bill of sale in his hand. He scanned the contents an
d, unsurprising, the paper matched that which Elisa had given him. The signature was not a woman’s.

  What Nate needed was to find any other documentation from the Taggert ranch that might have Melissa’s signature on it to compare it to the bill of sale. If he didn’t find anything in the hall of records in Bellridge, he might just have to ask Jake to do a little midnight visit.

  With a smile that made his face hurt, Nate handed the paper back. “Thank you so much, Mr. Potter. Again I apologize for the intrusion. I just wanted to make sure I had the correct information.”

  “You’re quite welcome there, Mr. Mar-chand. What is it that you and your associates, what was the name?”

  “D.H. Enterprises.”

  “What is it that you do for Mr. O’Shea?”

  Nate stood to leave. “Anything he needs us to.” With one last nauseating thank you, he escaped Mr. Potter’s office and house. Bonne Chance waited at the fence, ready for the long ride to Bellridge.

  His mind whirled with the information he’d received. If anything, the visit with Potter confirmed that something was definitely wrong with the sale of the Taggert ranch. Generally wives were not allowed to sell property without their husband’s signature. It’s possible that Sean Taggert was presumed dead, killed during the war, when she sold the ranch. It was also possible that the laws in Texas were different. However, Nate knew something was wrong. He intended to uncover the truth and not just for Elisa, for himself. The Devils would make sure that the truth was served along with the justice.

  Chapter Nine

  Zeke rode down the main street in Grayton as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He smiled, nodded and tipped his hat, while inside all he could think about was where was Jake? He thought about going to the general store since that’s where Jake had been headed, however he also remembered Nate’s warning about the owner of the store being a bit squirrelly.

  If anything happened, it probably happened at the store or a saloon, the two places Jake had said he planned to visit. Zeke decided to start at the saloon, and it wasn’t just because he needed a shot of whiskey, which he did. It was mainly because when men had been drinking, they were more likely to be talkative. Even some of the serving girls in the saloon were good sources of information. Zeke had a lot of practice listening.