The Measure of a Man Read online
Page 9
Lizzie, blinded by tears, was deaf to his pleas. She was focused on only one thing—to hurt Willie as much as he had hurt her—and to that end she was giving her all.
Her attack was interrupted when a pair of muscular hands encircled her waist, lifted her off of Willie, and set her firmly on the ground. Her arms pummeled the air for a few moments before she fully realized she no longer had a target. She covered her face with her hands and heaved in great gulps of air.
“What’s going on here?” asked a bewildered voice, and she looked up to see Adam McKenzie’s worried face looming over her.
Lizzie risked a look at Willie, just getting to his feet. Streaks of blood were smeared across his face and shirt and a large welt was beginning to rise on one cheekbone. If his betrayal hadn’t left such a raw wound, she might have felt sorry for him.
Willie glared at her in return, wiping his nose with one arm and adding another streak of blood to his shirt sleeve. “What’s the matter with you, anyway?” he demanded. “It was just a joke.”
“Just. . .a joke.” The words were forced out through clenched teeth. Lizzie had no desire to do anything but be alone with her own misery. She turned and stumbled toward the house, oblivious to Adam’s voice calling her name.
She reached her room without meeting anyone else, and flung herself face down across her bed, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole.
❧
Adam stared out the barn doorway, wondering what exactly had happened. Just after Lizzie stormed out, Willie had left, shrugging off Adam’s restraining hand as well as his questions. Willie had then mounted his horse, which had been tied to the corral, and rode off north.
Adam felt as though he had been caught in a hurricane. He had tried to give himself time to calm down and think clearly by putting the barn back into some kind of order. He finished grooming Dancer and put the uncharacteristically nervous horse into his stall, giving him an extra measure of grain as a consolation.
The extra time did not help clarify the situation. He had seen those two get into scraps before, but this. . .
He shook his head, glancing in turn from the house to the direction Willie had taken. This was like nothing he had ever seen before, and completely out of character for both of them.
Something needed to be done, that was obvious, and no one else had witnessed the scene. It looked like he was the one to get to the bottom of things. He looked once again toward the house. He could hardly go barging in there, demanding admittance to Lizzie’s bedroom. He nodded, his mind made up. It would have to be Willie who gave him the answers.
Lord, I could sure use a good dose of wisdom about now, he prayed, heading off to saddle his horse.
Nearly an hour later he was still on Willie’s trail. The boy must have ridden like the wind, he mused. He knows better than to— He drew his mount up sharply at the sound of rapid gunshots.
The shots had come from just beyond a nearby rise, and Adam immediately swung out of the saddle and ran uphill, crouching low as he neared the top.
Cautiously he peered over the crest. Willie stood below him, gun in hand, and Adam, with a hand on the butt of his own pistol, looked around wildly to locate the attacker.
Willie, however, seemed unconcerned. He thumbed another round of cartridges into the cylinder and replaced the gun in its holster. Spreading his feet to shoulder width, he crouched into a gunfighter’s stance.
Suddenly his hand whipped the pistol from the holster and raised it, aiming at a row of bottles Adam could now see were set up fifteen yards away. The gun bucked in Willie’s hand, and Adam counted five more shots fired in quick succession. No bottles were left standing.
The worry, tension, and utter confusion that had built up inside Adam whirled into an explosion of anger. Springing to his feet, he descended the hill with giant strides and grabbed Willie roughly by one arm, swinging Willie around to face him.
“What in the world do you think you’re doing?” Adam bellowed.
Willie’s whole being registered panic at first. Then, recognizing Adam, he relaxed into an attitude of proud defiance.
“Not bad, huh?” he asked, nodding toward the scattered shards of glass.
Adam let go of Willie’s arm and raked his fingers through his hair in exasperation, knocking his hat to the ground in the process. “Have you and your sister both gone crazy?” he demanded.
Willie moved away, swaggering slightly. “Tom’s been teaching me.” He refilled the empty cylinder. “I think I’ve got the hang of it.”
“Tom,” Adam repeated. “And just why does Tom think you might need to know how to do this?”
Willie shrugged. “A man’s gotta know how to protect himself. If I ever get in a tight spot, I’ll know what to do.”
Adam’s eyes flashed. “One of the easiest ways to protect yourself from trouble is not to get into tight situations in the first place. Or didn’t Tom mention that?” he added, biting the words off one by one. He picked up his hat, slapped it against his leg to knock off the dust, and turned to leave.
“You don’t like him, do you?”
Adam turned back to see Willie eyeing him belligerently. He took a slow, deep breath. “No,” he said truthfully, “I guess I don’t.”
“I thought so,” Willie said, with some satisfaction. Adam turned again to leave, and once more Willie’s words stopped him. “Lizzie does, though.”
Adam wanted to walk away as quickly as he could, but his feet brought him to an unwilling halt of their own accord. The truth he longed to avoid was being driven home to him with hammerlike blows. He turned back to Willie. “I guess I knew that,” he said evenly. “What was wrong with her today, anyway?”
“Oh, that.” Willie snorted. “She can’t take a joke, that’s all. I gave her a note from Tom, asking her to meet him. Only it wasn’t from Tom; I wrote it myself. I thought sure she’d catch on, but she rode out as soon as she’d read it. She spent a good bit of time out there, too, waiting for him to show up,” he said, chuckling in remembrance. “Then when she got back and found out I’d set her up, she jumped me like a wildcat.” His fingers touched the welt on his cheekbone gingerly. “I don’t know what the problem was. It was just a little joke.”
Adam held himself firmly in check, not following the impulse to close the distance between them and throttle Willie. Only his hands, clenching and unclenching at his sides, betrayed his thoughts. Instead, he turned without another word and strode away.
eleven
Adam’s thoughts whirled on his way back. “Has the whole world gone crazy?” he muttered to himself. Willie, whom he had always looked on as a younger brother, was sure acting like it, with his cocky new attitude and his admiration for Tom.
Lizzie, too, had been acting like a madwoman when he pulled her off her brother earlier. He shook his head ruefully, remembering how he had hesitated to take hold of her, not knowing if she would turn on him next. Yes, Lizzie was definitely acting unbalanced, and the cause for that, too, was tied to Tom Mallory.
And what about himself? Adam snorted derisively. He was definitely crazy. Crazy to get involved in Willie’s and Lizzie’s brawl, crazy to try to straighten out a kid who obviously didn’t want straightening out, and crazy—definitely, absolutely, certifiably crazy—to have fallen in love with a woman who was smitten with someone else.
Lord, what’s going on? Things have always been so peaceful and straightforward around here, but lately it seems like everything’s turned upside down. Show me the way so I can know what You want me to do.
Topping a low hill, he spotted Tom Mallory, who was back from the south range and riding in to headquarters. Adam spurred his horse into a lope and set his course to intercept Tom’s.
Tom seemed surprised to see Adam bearing down on him, and pulled his horse to a stop. He tilted his hat further back on his head and met Adam with an inquiring grin.
Adam reined in beside Tom and spoke abruptly. “You’ve been teaching Willie to fast draw.”
<
br /> Tom’s grin widened and he leaned back lazily in his saddle. “The boy wanted to learn,” he said. “No harm in it.”
“Don’t you think you should have checked with his father first?”
Tom chuckled. “He’s almost a man. When I was his age, I’d been taking care of myself for years. He’s got to grow up sometime, and if his daddy won’t let him, he’ll find a way to do it on his own.” He tipped his hat mockingly and rode away.
Adam watched him through slitted eyes. This was beyond anything he could handle alone. He needed help, and he needed it now.
❧
“I’ve been afraid something like this would happen.” Jeff hooked a boot heel on his porch railing and looked at Adam with troubled eyes. “I’ve seen Mallory shooting.” He shook his head. “This is a bad business, Adam.”
The younger man nodded his agreement. “I guess I’m a coward. By rights, I should have gone straight to Charles, but I didn’t know how to tell him. I was almost hoping you’d tell me I was overreacting.”
“I wish I could.” Jeff straightened reluctantly. “Let’s go get it over with,” he said. “We’ll tell Charles together.”
Adam wished he could be anywhere else at the moment Jeff tapped on the door of his brother’s study. When Charles called for them to enter, he wished it even more. Instead of its usually amiable expression, the older brother’s face wore an exhausted frown.
“What is it, Jeff?” His weary tone matched his countenance. The man looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders already, Adam thought. And they were about to add to his concerns.
“Nothing good, I’m afraid,” Jeff answered, waving Adam to a seat and closing the door behind them. “I’ll get right to it, Charles. How much do you know about Tom Mallory?”
Charles’s eyes narrowed. “Only what I saw the day I offered him a job, and what I’ve seen since, which is that he seems to be a hard worker who knows what he’s doing and does it well. Why?”
“Have you noticed the way Willie’s been following him around?”
Charles threw his hands in the air and shook his head. “What that boy is thinking lately is anybody’s guess. It’s sure beyond anything I can understand. He needs someone to look up to, and if Tom Mallory can be a good influence, I suppose I can’t complain.”
“Even if he’s teaching your son to be a gunfighter?”
Utter quiet blanketed the room. Charles froze, his gaze darting between Jeff and Adam. “What are you talking about?” he demanded.
“I’ve seen Mallory out in the hills, practicing. He’s good, Charles, and fast—really fast. And Adam here had an encounter with Willie today. Tell him what you saw, Adam.”
I’d just as soon be roping rattlesnakes as this, Adam thought, recounting the scene. He watched Charles’s eyes take on a stony glint and his lips tighten into a thin, hard line. Charles started to rise, ready to take decisive action.
“Simmer down.” Jeff spoke quietly but firmly. “There’s more.” Charles gaped at him and slid back into his chair with a thud.
“Lizzie came over to visit Judith the other day,” Jeff continued. “It seems the subject of one Tom Mallory came up, and Lizzie went on and on about him. I’ve talked to Judith about my concerns and she tried to help Lizzie see what kind of person he is, but no luck. Lizzie has stars in her eyes where the fellow’s concerned.”
Charles groaned and buried his face in his hands. “I’ve been worried sick about the political situation. Looks like I should have been worrying about things closer to home instead.”
He slammed a fist on his desk, sending a bottle of ink skittering perilously close to the edge. “What’s he trying to do, corrupt my whole family?” He rubbed a weary hand across his face, the picture of dejection. “If we weren’t so short-handed, with Hank laid up, I’d fire him on the spot. As it is, I’ll have to keep him on until after roundup. But you can count on me putting him on notice. There will be no contact—none—between him and any member of the family except Jeff and me. And woe unto him if he tries to defy me!”
The door swung open just wide enough to admit Lizzie’s head. “Oh,” she said dully when she saw the three men talking. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’ll come back later.”
“Stop right there,” Charles commanded. “I need to talk to you, and now’s as good a time as any. No,” he said as Adam and Jeff moved to leave. “You both know what’s going on. You might as well stay.”
Those rattlesnakes are looking better and better, Adam thought. Lizzie entered the room hesitantly, and Adam studied her face closely, seeking a clue to her present condition.
Traces of the emotional storm still lingered. Her eyes were puffy, and red blotches stood out against her pale skin, hinting at the earlier tears. A faint bruise was beginning to show along the knuckles of her right hand. Adam figured that must have been where she’d connected with Willie’s cheekbone.
Lizzie stopped just inside the room and pressed her back against the wall. Her look flitted from Charles to Jeff to Adam and back to Charles, reminding Adam of a trapped bird facing a group of hungry cats.
“I just came in to borrow a book,” she said uneasily. “I can wait.”
“What I have to say can’t wait.” Charles fixed his daughter with a long, measuring look. “Sit down,” he ordered without further preamble.
Moving mechanically, Lizzie slid into the leather chair facing Charles’s desk. She sat warily, shoulders tensed and hands clasped tightly in her lap, making the resemblance to a trapped creature even more pronounced. She hunched her shoulders slightly and lowered her head, as if awaiting a blow.
Adam’s heart went out to her. If he could, he’d sweep her up in his arms and carry her out of there, regardless of her father’s presence. But he didn’t have that right, he reminded himself bitterly.
“What’s this I hear about you and Tom Mallory?” Charles demanded. Lizzie flinched as if a blow had indeed been struck.
Her face ashen, she raised her chin and met her father’s angry gaze. “I don’t know what to tell you until I know what you’ve heard,” she said with a touch of defiance.
Charles let out a deep breath that was almost a growl. “It has come to my attention,” he said, measuring his words, “that you’re sweet on Mallory. It has also come to my attention that this swain of yours is no better than a common gunfighter, and he’s teaching your brother to follow in his footsteps.”
“That’s not true!” Lizzie leaped to her feet and faced her father across his desk.
“You don’t care for Mallory, then?” Charles asked, eyeing her steadily.
“No! I mean. . .I mean. . .” Her voice trailed off as a hot red wave swept up her neck and suffused her face.
Adam could feel her humiliation at having her feelings laid bare in front of the three of them. Oh, my sweet Lizzie, I hate to see you suffer like this. But you’re too good to throw yourself away on someone like Mallory!
“I think we can see what you mean,” her father said grimly. “Just how far has this infatuation gone, Lizzie? Hasn’t it occurred to you that a man like that is only interested in—”
“How can you say that?” cried Lizzie. “You don’t know anything about him or what he’s really like. How can you sit in judgment like this without any proof?”
Charles, making an obvious effort to control himself, steepled his fingers and waited a moment before he spoke again. “It seems to me,” he began, “that an honorable man, the kind of man I’d consider as a son-in-law, would have come to me openly, instead of sneaking around behind my back and encouraging you to do the same. Just how much more proof do I need?
“And that’s just the part that has to do with you,” he went on. “I have it on good authority he’s been teaching your brother the art of gunfighting. Is this really the kind of man you expect me to approve of?”
“Don’t talk to me about Willie,” Lizzie put in. “If he’s the one who’s been filling your head with these wild stories, I wou
ldn’t believe them for a minute. Willie’s word isn’t always to be trusted.”
Her self-control was dangerously close to slipping away completely, Adam thought. He watched the scene uncomfortably, wondering if he’d witness a repeat of the previous explosion. I’d just as soon not, Lord. One rescue a day is about all a man can deal with.
“Let’s get back to the main issue,” Charles said. “In this case, you and Mallory. I don’t understand, Lizzie,” he said, his voice betraying his hurt. “If you honestly felt something for him, why didn’t you talk to your mother or me? Why slip around like this?”
Lizzie drew herself up with what dignity she had left. “It’s true. I care for Tom, and he cares for me. We planned to tell you soon. As for why we didn’t say anything earlier, just look at the way you’re behaving now.” Her voice warmed with passion. “Look at the way you’ve already judged Tom, without ever talking to him yourself. Can you honestly say that if he—one of your employees—came to you and said he wanted to come calling on me, you’d welcome him with open arms?”
It was Charles’s turn to look uncomfortable, and Lizzie, seeing this, pressed her advantage. “Can you?” she repeated.
“I don’t know, Lizzie,” he admitted. “Perhaps not. But that doesn’t make your own underhanded behavior any more acceptable.”
“My behavior has been just fine all along,” Lizzie stormed. “So has Tom’s.” She strode to the door and yanked it open, pausing to turn back for a parting shot. “You go ahead and believe all the lies you want to. I know Tom’s a fine man—and you’ll find out the truth some day!” The crash of the door reverberated through the room.
Charles slumped in his chair and let out a long sigh. “I sure put her in her place, didn’t I?” he asked ruefully.
Adam excused himself and walked back toward the bunkhouse, deep in thought. That Tom Mallory was wrong for Lizzie was certain. That Lizzie fancied herself in love with him was equally certain. Adam had heard her admit her feelings for Tom with increasing despair, each word hitting him like a hammer blow.