Safe in His Arms

FOUR





Margaret reined in her horse and wiped her face with her bandana. The sun beat down from the blue bowl of sky above her. Her gaze strayed to Daniel in the valley below as he herded the cattle. Margaret longed to probe beneath the surface and discover the new foreman’s secrets. And secrets there were, she was sure, but over the past couple of days, she couldn’t figure out anything new about him.

She didn’t know which was worse—to think about the way the new foreman had touched her or to know it wouldn’t happen again. She hated him, but in spite of herself, he intrigued her. His apology had been sincere, but his assertion that she was beautiful had left her confused about his intentions. And the way he’d talked to her last night at the barn—like he really knew her and cared. Was what he said about his mother even true, or was it designed to gain her sympathy?

And in spite of his poor choice of clothes, he was no slacker. His broad shoulders easily muscled their way into milling cattle, and he wielded a hammer with authority as he tackled the barn repairs. But she still had a sense that this was not his usual line of work. His smooth-edged veneer hinted he would be more comfortable in a fine hotel than the rustic bunkhouse he now called home.

Oh, he was comfortable on a horse, but he didn’t ride like a cowboy. She couldn’t put her finger on what the difference was, but it plagued her just the same, and she feared he was some sort of chiseler. Eventually she would discover where he came from and what he was doing here. Lewis had joined them, but he’d been working on the other side of the pasture, and she had only caught glimpses of him.

Calvin rode up to her and pushed his hat to the back of his head. “Can I talk to you, Miss Margaret?”

She twisted in the saddle. “You’re upset about Daniel. I am too. Don’t worry, Calvin. I doubt he’ll be here long.”

“Your pa had no call to bring him in here. And Lewis. He ain’t treatin’ you right.” His voice was fervent.

It wasn’t the first time she’d seen something in Calvin’s eyes, something that made her wary. She thought he had designs on the ranch and thought to get it by wooing her at some point. And he wasn’t a bad-looking man. He was in his early thirties, and his sandy hair and blue eyes held some appeal to her, but she didn’t care for the way he bullied the other men. No man would bully her like that.

She shook her head. “I’ll handle my pa. Is that all?”

He leaned close enough that Margaret could smell his sweat. “If you need me to take Cutler down a notch or two, you just let me know. Your pa might need a talkin’-to as well.”

She tensed and eyed his intent gaze. He wasn’t dangerous, was he? Could he have had something to do with the attack on her father? “Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.” She wheeled Archie around and cantered toward the milling cattle.

She mulled over Calvin’s words as she worked with the men cutting out cattle, then finally dismissed her unease. He was just trying to get on her good side.

Dehorning was a job she hated, but it had to be done. The red dust coated her clothing and parched her throat. The cattle bawled and thrashed as they were divested of their horns, and she felt half sick by the time it was over. Her head thumped like a Comanche drum. Daniel had worked alongside her without a complaint, taking the brunt of the wrestling of the cattle. And she had to admit she’d been glad for his help.

“Calling it quits?” he asked when she took her hat off and used it to fan her hot face.

For some reason the question made her decide not to go inside like she’d planned. With all the men watching, she couldn’t let it get back to Pa that she’d quit on the job like some greenhorn fresh off the stage from New York.

She raised her chin and shook her head. “Just taking a break.”

“You look tired,” Daniel observed. “We can finish up here. Inez will be ringing the supper bell any minute.”

“I’ll stay until the work is done.” She slapped the dust from her hat, then tossed her braid over her shoulder and put her hat back on her head. He could keep his sympathetic glances to himself. Born and bred to this life, she could outwork him any day. He was a city man, and she would do well to remember that. He’d soon tire of this life and go back to the bright lights.

“Anyone ever mention you’re as stubborn as a mule?”

“I get the work done,” she snapped. Her headache thumped again, and she was afraid she was going to be sick right on Daniel’s boots. His face wavered before her eyes, and she swallowed. Swaying, she put a hand to her head, and a small groan escaped her clenched throat.

His fingers gripped her arm, and he propelled her toward the house. “You’d best get out of this sun.”

Margaret protested feebly, but she knew she was finished. Humiliation added to the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. What must he think of her? He’d likely use this to secure his position with Pa, more proof that she was too weak to be running the ranch.

Daniel opened the front door and ushered her inside. The cool darkness of the house welcomed her like a soothing balm. At least the bright sun no longer stabbed like knives behind her eyes. She sank into the rocker by the fireplace and leaned forward with her face in her hands. She hated feeling so weak and—and vaporish. The next thing she knew, she’d be fainting or fanning herself with an ostrich-feather fan. The thought stiffened her spine, and she raised her head.

Daniel was regarding her with sympathetic eyes, and the kindness in his gaze nearly brought tears to her eyes. Even Pa never looked at her that way, as though he wished he could take her pain away. Pa had no patience for womanly weakness, and she tried never to allow any hint of weariness or sickness to show to him.

“Want a cold rag? My sister swears it helps.” Daniel looked determined. “Where would I find some cloth?”

Margaret directed him to the buffet that held the linens, and he soon returned with two wet compresses. He nudged her braid out of the way and pressed a cold cloth to the back of her head, then handed her another. “Put that one on your forehead.”

She did as he asked, and the relief was immediate as the pounding eased a bit. “Thanks,” she whispered.

“Go lie down. I’ll handle the rest of the dehorning.”

She wanted to protest, but she still felt too wobbly to object. As she went down the hallway to her room, she heard the front door shut behind him. The window in her bedroom was open, and she lay on the bed with a breeze wafting across her. Daniel’s voice drifted through the open window.

“What did you find out?” he asked.

At least that’s what she thought he said. She got up and moved closer to the window as she struggled to make out the words.

Another voice answered, one Margaret didn’t recognize. “Charlie agreed to meet with you. Friday night at the river ford. Midnight. He’s probably having to help stash the loot somewhere. The posse from Clarendon is still on their trail.”

“Frank made a fatal error. He was supposed to wait for my report. Now the law in three counties is looking for him.”

She put a hand to her mouth. They were talking about the bank robbers. There had been a rash of robberies lately, everything from banks to stagecoaches. That explained why Daniel hadn’t wanted to join the posse the other day. He was one of them.

She squeezed her eyes at the sharp disappointment. No wonder he’d made up to her—he wanted to allay any suspicions she had. His sweet words and flirtatious ways hid the heart of a criminal. The disappointment she felt in Daniel surprised her. Why should she feel hurt? She’d known all along he wasn’t what he seemed. But she hadn’t expected something like this.

She had to tell Pa. Pain stabbed her head when she moved toward the door, and she went back to her bed with a groan and grabbed the wet cloths. Nothing was going to happen for a few days. Maybe she’d better find out more information before she involved her father in the mess. He was likely to go straight to Daniel and tip their hand. He trusted Daniel already. It would be best to ferret out the truth herself. When she knew enough, she could go for the sheriff.

She closed her eyes and willed the headache to go away. There was too much to do to take time for this weakness, but her body didn’t seem to want to cooperate. She napped fitfully until the supper bell rang. When she sat up, she discovered the pain in her head had subsided to a dull ache, and she felt full of purpose. Her disappointment was gone with the headache. This would prove she was right all along, that Pa had been taken in just as she’d thought.

She shook her hair loose from its braid and quickly plaited it again. The men were seated around the table by the time she got to supper, and the only place left to sit was beside Daniel. She slipped into the chair.

“Feeling better?” He scooped mashed potatoes on his plate, then handed her the bowl.

“Yes, thanks.” She took the potatoes and deposited some on her own plate. Daniel fell silent as they passed the food around. How could she get him to open up? She needed proof, not just some overheard snippets of conversation. If she could foil a bank robbery attempt, vindication would be hers.

“Hey, did you hear there’s going to be a barn dance Friday at the Stantons’?” Lewis asked. “Everyone is invited.”

“We’re all going.” Margaret couldn’t wait to spend more time with Lucy. The men began to joke and talk about seeing some of the single girls in the area, and her initial rush of happiness faded. It was always the same. No man thought first of her as a possible partner. Even as tall and conspicuous as she was, it was as if she were invisible. She was too much like one of the men to even be considered as an eligible wife. Why Pa thought she had a choice about marriage was beyond her.

Daniel said something, but she’d missed his words. “I beg your pardon.” She turned toward him. “I must have been woolgathering.”

Daniel’s dark eyes probed her gaze. “I said I’d be proud to escort you, Miss Margaret, unless you already have a date.”

“You got no call to be annoying Margaret like that.”

“Hush, Calvin.” Margaret sent him a quelling glance, and he ducked his head.

A refusal to Daniel’s invitation hovered on her lips, but after a moment she forced herself to smile and nod. “I reckon I can put up with your company for one evening, Mr. Cutler.” What better way to find out more? If she could get him to trust her enough to let down his guard, maybe she could gather the information she needed to go to the sheriff.

“Why are you so formal? I think we’ve gone way beyond that. My name’s Daniel.”

Margaret’s face burned at how accurate his words were. He persisted in calling her Margaret when they were alone, but she wasn’t about to trust him. And the last thing she wanted was to get closer to him now that she knew he was in cahoots with the bank robbers.

A moment of unease assailed her. What if he tried to shut her up—permanently? Bank robbers were desperate characters, and she would be alone with him on the drive to Lucy’s. Maybe he would arrange an ambush that would ensure she didn’t tell anyone her suspicions.

She gave herself a mental shake. Melodrama, that’s what she was indulging in. Pure melodrama. Daniel wouldn’t hurt her. Everyone would know she was with him, and they would expect him to take care of her. She was perfectly safe.

Then why didn’t she feel safe? He made her feel as though she were in danger every minute she spent in his company. It wasn’t the physical danger that frightened her. Her thoughts were way too bound up in this man. His pleasant facade hid his true nature.

“Very well, Daniel,” she said finally. It would be best not to give him any reason for suspicion. She would be courteous and lull him into a false sense of security. But why did she feel so bad about the thought, so dishonest? Pushing away the feelings of guilt, she turned her attention to her supper.