Texan's Touch

TEN

NICHOLE SLAMMED HER fist into her brother’s chest with all the fury she could muster. “I’m not going!” she screamed. “You can’t make me!”

“Like hell I can’t, Nick!” Wolf’s voice was so angry it rumbled around the tiny grove like a huge cannon, rattling the air all the way to treetops. “You’ll be on that train tonight if I have to lock you in a trunk and have you shipped to Texas.”

“But you need me.” Nichole paced in front of him, showing no fear of the man twice her width. “I’m the best rider you have. It’s my land, too. You think I can stomach the idea of someone stealing it any better than you. Let me stay and fight with you.”

“Not this time, Nick.” Wolf glanced toward the campfire where two men waited. “Tyler and I have it all planned out. When trouble rolls in, I don’t want to have to be worrying about where you are. For my own peace of mind I have to know you’re safe. You’re all the family I got left, don’t you see, Nick?”

“All right. I won’t ride with you, but let me go somewhere else. Anywhere else.” Adam was probably married by now, and Nichole didn’t know if she could face seeing him with that china doll of a woman. “I could camp out in this grove. No one would ever find me. You know I could stay here for months.”

“This time we ain’t fighting Yanks, we’re fighting folks that know these hills as well as we do.” Wolf hesitated a moment as if he felt sorry for her. “I know being shipped to Texas and the McLains is a dent in your pride, but better that than getting killed. The McLains are the only men I can trust, Nick. We’ve no family, and any friends we had before the war won’t know us now. Except for Tyler and Rafe, all the Shadows have gone home to their own problems. I can’t fight for my land and worry about you. You’re going to Texas.”

Nichole knew it was useless to argue any longer. “All right, but let me go in my own clothes, not in some dress.” Before her parents died, when she’d only been a kid, her mother had never minded her living in her brother’s hand-me-downs. She could barely remember putting on a dress even as a child.

Wolf wasn’t a man who budged easily. “Dressed as a woman is the only way you’ll make it out of the county alive. They’ll be watching every man who leaves. Nick Hayward has a price on his head, but Nichole Hayward is unknown. So put on those duds I bought you.”

Nichole stormed off to the stream using every swear word she’d ever heard. She dressed in the ugly olive green skirt and whiskey-colored jacket Wolf had picked out for her at the mercantile. The skirt was too large in the waist and the jacket an inch too tight across the bodice, but she hardly noticed. Her brother, her only kin, was kicking her out of her state. Her own brother was sending her to the hell of Texas with only a prayer of finding one of the McLains. With her luck, they were all dead, or whiny little Bergette had made them turn around and go back to Indiana.

Since Wolf had helped with the delivery of May and Daniel’s twins, he’d talked as though the McLains were his family and not just some men he’d met once. Nichole had tried to forget Adam, but Wolf hadn’t made it easy. He retold their days in Indiana as though it had been his only trip to the normal world in this lifetime. He bragged about Adam being a great doctor and Wes being one of the only Yankees who knew how to fight.

When she tried to step back in the clearing without falling over her hem, the men froze. Tyler, who’d ridden with her for three years, stood as though a lady had just entered a room. He dusted himself off and smoothed back his curly black hair.

“Nick?” He tilted his head slightly as if he didn’t believe his eyes. “Is that you?” His normally emotionless face was twisted with confusion.

“Say a word and I’ll gut you like a pig.” Nichole stared at him in challenge.

Tyler lowered his eyes, slowly-far too slowly for Nichole’s way of thinking.

“I… I never thought… I-”

“Well, you can stop thinking whatever it is you’re thinking right now as far as I’m concerned. I’m still Nick, nothing more.” She’d called Tyler a lot of names over the years, but fool had never been one of them. It came to mind now.

The boy Rafe, not yet out of his teens, slapped Tyler on the shoulder. “She’s more, ain’t she, Tyler? She’s a whole lot more.”

“Shut up,” Tyler mumbled.

Nichole couldn’t stop looking at the way Tyler’s eyes had changed. He stared at her so hard it looked as if the firelight was coming from him and not reflecting off the campfire. Suddenly, she knew what he was thinking as truly as if he’d spoken the words out loud.

“Stop it!” she shouted placing her fists on her hips. The effort only tightened the material across her bust-line. Nichole greatly missed her bindings and she could see she wasn’t the only one who noticed them missing.

“Stop what?” Tyler raised his hands in surrender but couldn’t seem to get the smile off his face.

“Stop thinking of me as a woman. I’m Nick. Nick! The same person who’s been with you for three years. I’ve bailed you out of more than one scrape and saved your ass more times than I can count. I’m one of you. I’m a Shadow, just like you.” How could he think less of her by thinking her a woman?

Tyler looked guilty. “I know.” He swallowed hard making his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “I’ve ridden with you and trusted you with my life. But I never thought you’d look the way you do in a dress.”

“She sure don’t look like one of us.” Rafe giggled. “One Shadow has a few more curves.” Rafe moved his hands over his own chest showing how hers rounded out.

Both Tyler and Wolf’s fists swung toward the boy. In dodging, he stumbled backward, almost landing in the fire. The warmth sobered him.

Nick reached for her Colt, but the weapon wasn’t at her hip. She wanted to shoot all three of them. Rafe thought she was a freak in a sideshow, Tyler couldn’t stop staring at her like she was fresh-made apple pie, and Wolf was so overprotective he would smother her completely at any moment.

Grabbing the carpetbag Wolf had bought, Nick shoved her normal clothes inside, then lifted her Colt from the branch where she’d hung it. If this was anything like the reaction of the rest of the world, she’d rather stay here and be shot. Since Wolf wouldn’t allow that, she figured she’d need the fine new Colt he’d bought her last year. She didn’t know if she could stomach every man from here to Texas acting like his brains had been drained.

Much to her frustration, her anger brought tears to her eyes. Not because of the way the men were acting, but from a memory she’d been trying to bury for months. Adam. He’d never treated her like a freak, gawking and staring. Adam had always acted as though her clothes were normal. He’d even told her he liked her hair short. When he looked at her, he didn’t just see a man or woman, he saw her.

“I’m sorry about Rafe.” Tyler reached for the bag. “He’s just having a little trouble seeing that you’re still our Nick, no matter how you’re dressed.”

Nichole switched the bag in her hands, moving it away from his grip. “And you, Tyler? Are you still my friend?” She could tell he was as shocked as Rafe, only for some reason Tyler was trying to please her with his words, something she could never remember him trying to do. She’d always seen him as a good fighter who had little to say.

“Of course,” he answered. “It’ll just take a little getting used to. You’ve always been able to count on me, Nick.”

He couldn’t hide the smile that spread across his face, and she knew things would never be the same between them. He seemed to have developed a twitch that kept lowering his eyes to her bosom.

“Wolf says I’m to take you into town.” Tyler tried to focus on her face.

“All right,” Nichole mumbled as she gave Wolf a quick hug good-bye. It was one of the few times they’d touched, and though both tried, the hug was awkward. They moved only close enough to pat one another on the back a few times and then stepped away.

“Don’t give the McLains any trouble,” Wolf ordered. “They’re good folks.”

She nodded and climbed into the buckboard. Tyler rounded to the other side and climbed in beside her. Nichole stared hard at her mountain of a brother. She knew he’d find her when this trouble was over, there was no need for him to repeat himself. He loved her, though she doubted he’d ever say the words.

When she and Tyler were out of sight of the others the darkness closed in around them and Nichole relaxed. She was at home in the early spring night. Now her clothing didn’t matter, she and Tyler were only voices.

“Tyler?” She finally broke the silence. “Could you be honest with me?”

“Sure,” Tyler volunteered.

“Completely?”

“Completely.”

“How do I look? I mean as a woman.”

He pulled the reins and stopped the horses. She fought down nervousness as he turned toward her. He was her friend. She had nothing to fear from him.

“You look great, Nick,” he answered. His voice was lower than normal. “You are prettier than just about any woman I ever seen.”

“You haven’t seen all that many.”

“I’ve been around a few,” he said defensively.

“Then why did you and Rafe act like such fools? Wolf told you I was his sister days ago. You knew I was a girl.”

“I guess it didn’t soak in until we saw you in that dress. Nick, a man treats a woman different and that’s a fact. I may try not to say anything, or look at you, but that don’t keep me from thinking things. And after seeing you in that dress, things will always come to mind when I’m with you.”

“What things?”

“Things it wouldn’t be proper for a man to tell a woman he’s thinking even if they’re on his mind.” Tyler said the words slowly as if they made sense.

“But we’ve been friends for three years. I’ve heard you talk about everything. I heard all about that night you left the camp and went into Cortland last year.”

Tyler slapped the horses into action. “That wasn’t something you should have heard. A woman shouldn’t oughta hear about another woman.”

“I don’t need another brother telling me what to do!” Nichole snapped. “Give me the reins. Suddenly, I’m in a hurry to be rid of the lot of you.”

Tyler resisted for a second, then gave her the reins. In truth, they both knew she could drive a team better than him, but she sensed her action hurt his pride. He was right about one thing. It would never be the same between them now that he’d seen her in a dress.

When they arrived at the station, the train was already loading. Several groups stood saying good-bye as soldiers stood at attention near the center of the platform.

“Now, act like a lady, damn it!” he whispered as he forced her to allow him to help her down. “All you got to do is get on this train, and you’ll be safe in two hours.”

Nichole’s fingers dug into his arm as he walked her down the platform. She shortened her steps, making moving in the dress easier.

She thought briefly of breaking away and running back to Wolf. If she raised enough ruckus, he’d allow her to stay. She knew he would. The only thing that kept her going along with this plan was the possibility that he might just be right. Wolf had a quick sense about danger, and if she was captured with the others, it could go badly for her. They might hang the men, but Wolf said they’d send her to one of those women’s prisons. She’d die if she were locked up.

Tyler handed her the ticket. “Wolf said you’ll catch a stage tomorrow night. He wired a Doc Wilson in Corydon and received word that the McLains are in Fort Worth, or at least they were a month ago.” Tyler looked worried. “You sure about these Yanks, Nick? I wish there were somewhere else to send you. I don’t like the idea of sending you to folks we don’t know.”

Nick thought of hitting him hard on the side of his head. He’d caught Wolf’s illness of being overprotective. Only the knowledge that one of the soldiers was watching kept her hand lowered.

“They’re good men,” Nichole reassured Tyler, who was now back into the big-brother role again.

“Nick… Nichole.” Tyler moved his hand slowly down her arm. Something he’d never done. “When this trouble is over, I plan to come with Wolf to fetch you. If these McLains mistreat you, they’ll answer to me.”

“You do whatever you like.” Nichole pulled away. “But if any man mistreats me, he’ll answer to me.”

She looked up into Tyler’s gaze and knew he was about to kiss her. Without hesitation, she turned and stepped onto the train as it shifted and moved. She offered him her hand. “Take care, Tyler.”

“Take care,” he answered as her hand slipped from his grip.

Nichole took the last seat in the car and watched Tyler disappear into the night. He’d been a good man and a good friend. He’d never hurt for the sake of hurting, or killed for the fun of it. Tyler had never been unfair or dishonest. He wasn’t more than five years older than her and she had always thought of him as handsome.

So why hadn’t she let him kiss her good-bye? She thought about it until she fell asleep and still couldn’t come up with an answer. She had no one. The only man she’d allowed close to her was married by now. But even if he were single, they were worlds apart.

At Memphis, she switched to the Butterfield Stage Line and grew more exhausted by the hour. The trip was dusty and hard during the day, and by night she was housed with the women and crying babies. Nichole wanted to ask to sleep outside with the men, but didn’t dare.

The only thing she found enjoyable about the trip was the surprisingly warm friendships she made with the women. People thrown together for hours looked for anything to help pass the time, and there was something about a stranger you’d never meet again that made conversation easy.

The women talked of their lives during the war, making Nichole realize for the first time the men weren’t the only ones who had paid a price. Their natural mothering instinct seemed to want to take her under their wing. Wives told Nichole of their future and the widows talked of the past.

One night, near Fort Smith, Nichole told a small circle of women that her mother had died and there were so many questions she wished she’d asked her about being a woman. The group seemed to take up the cause of telling her all kinds of bits of wisdom mothers pass on to daughters.

When she changed stages in Dallas leaving the other passengers heading south while she headed west, Nichole was sad to part. She felt she’d grown from the chance encounters and that somehow she was a little more of a lady.

The last leg of her trip was silent. She sat back alone in the coach and watched the scenery rolling by. The only other passenger had asked to ride up top and was probably swapping stories with the driver and man riding shotgun. She’d heard him say he was only going a few miles to his farm.

The land wasn’t as pretty as Kentucky. There was a wildness about the very air here. She’d felt it since Fort Smith. There were streams laced across the land near Dallas, but not an overabundance of trees.

Just as she found a comfortable position and was almost asleep, the stage rocked violently, throwing her against the windows, then forward into the empty seats.

Nichole swore and tried to straighten her clothing as the driver pulled to a stop.

“Sorry, miss. You all right in there?” he yelled.

“Yes.” Nichole balanced herself enough to open the door. “What happened?”

“Nothing much. Just a problem with the wheel. Me and Amos will have it fixed in a blink.”

Nichole looked at the man riding shotgun and guessed that unless he was far stronger than he looked, the driver had his work cut out for him. If she’d been in her normal clothes she would have offered to help, but one thing she’d learned in these days of travel was that men didn’t appreciate help from a woman no matter how much they needed it. The man who’d been riding up top was gone and Nichole guessed he must have climbed off when they stopped a while back.

Looking around, she noticed the road followed a creek. Along the water’s curves were clusters of elm and cottonwood and spruce. The grass was tall near the water and littered with branches from times past when the creek thought itself a mighty river for a few hours. The shelter of aging cottonwoods a hundred yards away lured her.

“I’ll be by the stream,” she said as she lifted her carpetbag and headed down the incline. “Just call when you’re ready to leave, or if you need any help.”

“You just rest yourself, miss. We can handle this!” the driver yelled from the boot of the coach.

Nichole lifted her skirts several inches off the ground and disappeared into the trees. She was careful to walk on the balls of her feet, leaving little trail to follow even though there was no reason for her to do so now.

After days of being around people, she needed to be alone. Leaving the natural path to the stream, she walked as Wolf had taught her to, without disturbing nature. After several feet she crawled beneath low branches and found what she’d hoped to find, a cool, shadowy cave made from brush and branches. The floor of her find was covered in dried winter leaves. Once she was settled, even a squirrel entering her cave would make a racket.

Spreading her jacket as a pallet, Nichole used her carpetbag as a pillow and her warm wool man’s jacket as her blanket. Within minutes she was soundly asleep for the first time in days. For the first time since she’d left Tennessee she felt at home.

The wind blew, ruffling the branches above her, and the stream rippled over a thousand tiny rocks only a few feet away. Birds, excited with early spring, returned to the tree above.

Nature muffled the screams of Amos and the driver as they battled and died. In her mind, the cries were only a faraway nightmare no longer strong enough to wake her. In her mind, she was alone and safe.