Adam followed the nun down the hall, wondering why Nick bothering him was no crime, when him pestering her seemed to be a capital offense. Most of the time he felt like Sister Cel extended all her charity to others and never allowed him a drop. Maybe the Lord sent her here, all gift wrapped in her habit, as some punishment for a sin long forgotten. No, Adam thought. He already had Bergette. Surely there could be no added punishment?
An hour later, the sun was a golden red on the western horizon as Adam and Nichole rode out of town. Clouds fenced the northern sky, promising a cool evening. But at sunset, nature was cloaked in green.
Suddenly, this land he’d thought was so barren and gray only months ago was bright and alive. Wildflowers dotted the rolling land, and oak and cypress trees followed the river like children frozen in play as they ran alongside the water. This location had been a wise place to station a fort with plenty of water and high ground. Adam felt like he could see miles in all directions.
Nichole kicked her horse into a faster gait and laughed. “I’m glad to get away from the smell of people.”
“I wasn’t aware I smelled,” Adam said as he caught up with her.
“Not you, the entire town. Anywhere folks collect there’s the same smell that follows them. Cookstoves and lye wash and bodies and blood and breathing through tobacco-tinged air. Sometimes I think of civilization as one huge deformed, splintered creature that settles in a place just long enough to smell it up. At night, when I pass by each home, I can tell if the laundry was done that day, or if they killed a chicken for supper, or if there’s sickness, just by the smell.”
“You’re right,” Adam agreed though he’d never thought of it before. “I remember during the war, I could find the hospital tent or the mess tent just by the smell. Some mornings before dawn, I would swear that I didn’t open my eyes until I was putting on my white coat at work.”
For the first time since they’d met, they talked, just talked. Each told of where they had been and what they’d done. Adam was surprised how many times during the war their paths had almost crossed. He wondered if he might have gone into some town for supplies and not noticed her passing him. Or if she’d walked silently past his tent at night when crossing the line.
Adam wondered where the time had gone when they reached the herd almost an hour later. He’d meant to question her about where she’d been the night before, but somehow they’d started talking. And they talked of everything, not just subjects she might be interested in. Except for May, he could never remember talking with a woman so.
Wes waved them into the camp with a wide smile, but Adam didn’t miss the guards posted around the herd. Double the men that would be needed to watch sleeping cattle. He slowly looked around, searching the land beyond the herd for trouble as he neared Wes.
“I know,” Nick whispered. “I feel it, too.”
He glanced at her, realizing she’d read his thoughts, but the night hid her face. As their horses walked toward Wes, he heard the leather of Nick’s gun belt sliding into place about her waist.
“I was about to tell the cook to throw out the stew!” Wes shouted as he stepped forward and held their mounts. “You city folks may dine late, but on the trail we eat at sundown.”
Adam stepped around his horse to Nichole’s left side as she swung from the saddle. Her long, limber body needed no assistance, but he let his hand slide along her side as she stepped to the ground.
“Stew sounds great,” Adam said as he touched Nichole a moment longer than needed even in his pretense of steadying her. “Sorry we’re late. Seems every wife in Fort Worth is pregnant these days. Lucky all the menfolk didn’t make it back home on the same day or I’d have a landslide nine months to the day after the war.”
Adam kept his voice casual as his hands circled Nichole’s waist in a gesture that told her he wanted her closer to him.
Wes was busy tying the horses and didn’t hear Nichole whisper, “You’re in my world now, Doc. The night.”
Her words haunted him through the meal, for he knew she was right. He’d never liked the night, not even when he was a child. But she was a creature of the darkness, more comfortable there than in day. Another reason they didn’t fit together, he thought. Another reason to stay a proper distance away.
But what bothered him was that in the darkness, she seemed to set the rules, not him. He might tell her in the light to sleep in her own bed, but he knew if she came to him in the shadows, he wouldn’t push her away.
“I figure I’ll lose ten percent of the herd along the trail, maybe more.” Wes pulled Adam back to the present. “But for every cow that gets to rail, I’ll make five times what I paid per head.” Wes sounded excited. “Some of these cattle I didn’t pay a dime for, but found on the open range.
“I’ve hired the best cow men I can find and an extra dozen to ride along as protection. I’ve heard tell that some herds make it as far as Kansas just to be lost to bandits.”
Nichole looked at the herd. “Not much to lose. Longhorns, the ugliest cattle I’ve ever seen.”
“Kid, don’t talk about my fortune that way,” Wes complained. “These are the kings of cattle. They can survive any weather, and they’ve been roaming wild since Coronado dropped them off in Texas some three hundred years ago. I heard a man down South call them rainbow cattle because they come in so many different colors.”
Nichole studied the herd. In truth she saw black, white, blue, bays, reds, and some spotted with every combination of color. Many had horns spreading four to five feet.
Following her gaze, Wes added, “We found several mature longhorns with the horns twisted down. Some of them had about starved to death trying to graze on winter grass. It wasn’t an easy job, but we caught them and cut the horns down so they could reach the short grass, then turned them loose to graze and fatten for another year.”
Wes continued to tell his brother of his plans while Nichole stood and returned her plate to the wagon. She’d been one of a group for so long it never occurred to her to leave her plate for someone else to wash.
“Thanks.” A cowhand with a towel for an apron startled her. “That’s one plate I won’t have to wash tonight.” A light flavoring of an Irish accent blended in his words.
Nichole looked at the stack of dirty plates next to the tub of soapy water. “Want some help?” Without waiting for an answer, she lifted half the stack and lowered them into the wash.
“Sure. Most the men around here are nothing but coffee coolers.”
“ ‘Coffee coolers?’”
The cook chuckled. “Ye know, men who stand around all day waiting for their cup to cool enough to drink before they go back to work.”
The cook winked at Nichole and smiled with his few remaining teeth showing. “Me name is Lloyd, miss.”
She looked at the short, graying man carefully. “I guess I didn’t do a very good job of acting like a man tonight.” In truth it was hard to remember all the rules with Adam around treating her like a woman.
“From a distance, I thought there was two men riding in, ye being so tall and all. But when I saw the way the boss and his brother stared at ye and how they both waited until ye sat down, I knew ye were a woman. I got four daughters meself.” He pulled a tintype from his shirt pocket showing a chubby little woman with four chubby daughters around her. “A lady’s a lady no matter how she’s dressed. But ye’re smart to travel like ye’re dressed in this country. I told my Gina Kay not to come out here until I tame the place down a bit.”
Nichole handed him a plate to dry. “You expecting any trouble?” She fought to keep her voice calm, conversational.
“We’ve heard talk. Boss hired three more men yesterday. There’s lots of men wandering these days, and they don’t feel any guilt taking another man’s land or property. It’s like the whole country’s got fighting in their blood and can’t wiggle it out.”