Chapter Eleven

Tillie gave Rex two days before she went out to see him. Thanksgiving was the next day, and she couldn’t bear the thought of him not speaking to her. He hadn’t been in the house at all. Instead, he was taking his meals with the cowhands and sleeping in the barn.

She found him in the barn, mending a bridle. He looked up as she entered, his brown eyes cool under the shadow of his hat. She noticed his hands, rough from work but gentle with the horses.

“Rex?”

He didn’t look up. “What do you want, Tillie?”

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, her voice echoing through the rafters, “I’m sorry for what George did.”

Rex didn’t respond right away. He just kept working on the bridle, his movements slow and certain.

“I don’t want you to hate me, Rex,” Tillie added softly, her heart pounding in her chest.

Rex put down the bridle, finally meeting her gaze and the air in the barn felt thicker, charged with an emotion neither of them knew how to name.

“I don’t hate you, Tillie,” Rex said, his voice rough as rawhide. He stood up then, dusting off his hands on his wool trousers. “I’m just disappointed.”

And somehow, that hurt even more. Being hated was something she could fight against or at least accept, but disappointments... Those were harder to bear. Her chin quivered, and she desperately wished she could hide her teary eyes from him. But it was too late for pretenses. “I didn’t ask for any of this, Rex,” she said.

“I know,” he said, his voice gentler now. “I know you didn’t, Tillie.” He took a step closer to her, and she could smell the mix of leather and hay on him. It was a comforting scent. Homey.

Tillie blinked, letting a single tear escape. She hated herself for crying in front of him but found that she could not help it. Her world seemed to spiral out of control, and Rex, with his steadfastness and unwavering principles, was the only solid ground she had left.

Something shifted in Rex’s gaze then. He reached out, gently wiping away her tear with his thumb. “I know this ain’t your doing, and I’m not blaming you. It’s George I got my bones to pick with.”

Tillie looked at him, her heart fluttering at the kindness in his eyes. “I’m scared, Rex,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

He reached out and gently took her hand, his warmth seeping into her stiff fingers. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Tillie,” he promised.

“I wanted to tell you about the horse and about the Richards gang. Petunia saw me with them.”

“Petunia?”

Tillie nodded, brushing away the tears with her fingers. “The day you came to find me, she told me I needed to tell you, or she would.”

“She has said nothing.”

“That’s probably why she hasn’t been around the past few days.”

“Hmm.” He released her hand and picked up the bridle, putting it on the workbench. Crossing his arms over his chest, he looked at her with determination in his eyes. “Start talking.”

“Rex, please,” Tillie pleaded, her gaze locked onto his stormy eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but George threatened me. He met the Richards brothers back in Texas and George became their information gatherer. We skipped town after the last scheme, and George was convinced they were following us.”

“I don’t think that’s the case. They’ve had ties to this area for years.” He motioned with his hand. “Continue.”

“He’s been gathering information while he’s here. I know they are planning something terrible. They want to get revenge on someone. I don’t know who.”

“Is it a family?”

Tillie shook her head, her red curls bobbing around her shoulders. “I don’t know. He mentioned chaps, but that makes no sense.”

“Chapman?”

“It could be.”

“George is helping them find a missing woman.” Tillie’s gaze followed Rex’s hand as it clenched into a tight fist, causing the skin on his knuckles to turn a pale shade. She could tell he was struggling to control his anger, and her heart clenched in sympathy for whatever was causing him so much pain.

“Do you know what he’s talking about?”

“I might. Do you know where they might camp?”

“No. He never told me. I know he’s meeting one of them in town. The one that got caught in a fire.”

“I need to let Weston know, and you need to stay here.” Rex moved to the pasture where several horses were happily grazing.

“Rex, I know what you must think of me.” She reached out and touched his arm. “But I want you to understand that I didn’t have any choice. I had to do what I needed to survive. I never meant to cheat that man in town or hurt anyone.”

“I know. That’s why I made your brother pay me twenty dollars.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I paid five for the horse and I gave the other fifteen to Hiram. He has two little girls to raise on his own.”

Tillie laughed. “You played his own game against him.”

“That I did.”

“Are you going to go after them?”

“Not without help.”

When Rex was ready to leave, Tillie passed him his hat and long duster. He nodded and moved Cactus outside.

“I... I love you,” Tillie called.

Rex turned; his expression was unreadable. “What did you say?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tillie swallowed hard. She repeated herself, her voice just a tad stronger than before. “I love you, Rex Hartman.”

For a moment, he was silent. Then, as if guided by some divine force, Rex crossed the barn. His boots crunched on the rocks as he closed the gap and pulled Tillie into his arms.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. The warmth of his mouth enveloped her, igniting a passion that she didn’t know could exist. She felt his hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer as he claimed her with his mouth. In that moment, she knew he was offering more than just a kiss; he was offering forgiveness. Her breath caught in her throat as they finally pulled away, both left dizzy and craving more.

“Stay safe,” he whispered against her lips before releasing her and striding out the door.

Rex stopped to get Baxter on his way over to the Chapmans’ home, knowing that there would be less of a chance of being shot if they rode together.

They rode their horses down the winding dirt road, passing by fields that once contained wildflowers. As they approached the two-story house, Rex signaled to his brother to stop and dismount. He tied his horse to a nearby post and walked up the porch steps to the large wooden door. With two solid knocks, he announced their arrival.

Everett Chapman, the youngest of the Chapman brothers, answered the door.

“Rex. What are you doing here?”

“We need to speak to your pa and your brothers. Can we meet in the barn?”

Everett lifted an eyebrow. “I dunno know about that. Where are the rest of your brothers?”

“It’s just me and Bax. I wouldn’t have stopped by if wasn’t important.”

“Wait here.” Everett disappeared inside the house.

Rex turned to his companion, Baxter, with a look of confusion on his face. He raised his hands in a helpless gesture, but before he could speak, the door swung open once more. Ingrid Chapman stood at the door. Known as Marmee, she was the matriarch of the Chapman family, and Verna Hartman’s best friend.

“I don’t know why that boy has no manners,” she said, opening the door. “Come inside. Coffee’s hot.”

Rex shifted nervously from foot to foot as he approached the intimidating woman in front of him. “Ma’am, we just need to see Weston and his sons.” He couldn’t help but shrink under her intense glare, feeling like he was five years old again. Clearing his throat, he added, “Yes, ma’am. Come on, Baxter.”

They made their way to the large room where everyone was sitting. At the table, Weston and Orrin Briggs were sitting, sipping coffee, and eating pie.

“Weston, these boys are here to see you. Sit down, Rexford. Baxter. I’ll get you coffee and a piece of pie.” Ingrid moved towards the stove in the corner.

Rex and Baxter exchanged uncomfortable glances before they both took the offered seats. The hardwood chair beneath Rex’s rough palms had become worn and smooth from years of use. His heart hammered in his chest as he locked eyes with the Chapman brothers. Five men known for their fierce loyalty and even fiercer tempers.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Baxter muttered, his voice hoarse. He took the coffee cup Marmee handed him with a faint nod but didn’t touch the pie.

Weston was the first to break the silence, his gruff voice rumbling across the room like distant thunder. “What’s so important that you’ve come over here without the rest of your kin?” His weathered face was unreadable, dark eyes boring into Rex’s.

“There’s a man named George Youngerman,” Rex began, his voice steady despite the tension knotting his shoulders. “He’s been orchestrating a plan to destroy this ranch.” The words hung heavy in the air, a stark declaration amid the smell of coffee and freshly baked pie.

The room erupted into a cacophony of incredulous laughter and sharp questions, the Chapmans clearly not believing him. Rex held his ground, letting the chaos swell around him before he lifted a hand to silence them.

“I saw George meeting with the Richards gang, and I have it on authority that they are looking for a reckoning.”

“I told you to leave this alone, boy,” Briggs said.

“You know about this, Orrin?” Weston asked.

“Yes, but you have nothing to worry about.”

“Do you think they are looking for my grandson?”

“We can protect our family,” Caleb said, looking at his wife Lydia. Rex’s sister Vangie left her son, Hart, with Lydia for safekeeping. Lydia brought the boy to Nebraska for protection. While traveling with Caleb’s cattle drive, they fell in love and Hart became the piece that forever connected the Chapman and Hartman families.

Rex shifted his weight in the seat, trying to block out the noise of the heated argument in the room. He regretted coming here and sharing this information with them. Suddenly, a loud and urgent knock echoed through the room, causing everyone to freeze. The knock came again, more insistent this time, breaking the tense silence.

“Oh, for land’s sake,” Marmee said. “I’ll get the door.”

“Ingrid, you stay there,” Weston commanded. “I’ll get the door.”

He stood and walked by his wife, planting a kiss on her forehead, before disappearing to open the door.

Reverend Billings entered the room, followed by Weston. The preacher looked troubled, his usual warm smile replaced by a furrowed brow and tight lips.

“I was looking for the marshal, but maybe you can all help me.”

“What is it?” Orrin asked, sitting up in his chair.

“Esther is missing.”

“Missing?” Marmee said, lifting her fingertips to her lips. “When did this happen?”

“It happened between last night and this morning.”

Rex stood to offer his seat to the reverend. “Did anyone see anything?”

“I don’t know. Someone mentioned that they saw her talking to someone yesterday, but that was it.”

“Who was it? Did they know who it was?” Orrin asked.

“They didn’t see the person. Just the back. The man wore a black coat with a black hat.” Rex paused, his heart racing. Reverend Billings was wringing his hands anxiously. “I thought she might’ve come here.” He looked at Rex. “I was going to your house next.”

“Why our house?” Rex asked cautiously.

“I’m just grasping at straws. I thought maybe she had run off with your brother.”

Baxter jumped from his seat. “Our brother wouldn’t run off with a woman.”

“Frank tried to,” Everett said from the sofa.

“Hush.” Marmee smacked him on the back of the head.

“Watch your mouth,” Owen growled.

“Since we are here,” Rex offered, “why don’t we see if we can find her?”

“That’s probably because his brother stole her.”

Marmee stood up and grabbed her son by the ear. “Outside now. I’ll deal with you later. Polly, you go with him.” When she returned, she looked at the rest of the people sitting in the room. “Anyone else?”

The marshal stared at Rex for a moment with a steely gaze. “All right. I’ll go with you. We need to get Devin Moore. He’s the best tracker around.”

“Where are we going to start?” Rex asked.

“Let’s go outside and talk.” Briggs grabbed his hat and kissed Ingrid on the cheek. “Thanks for dinner, Ingrid. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He left, with Rex and Baxter following close behind. When they were outside, Briggs turned and looked at the two men. “We’ll look for Esther, but if she is with the gang, we can’t get close.”

“Why not?” Rex asked.

“Is there something I need to know?” Baxter chimed in.

“No,” Briggs and Rex said in unison.

“Rex and I will go get Devin. Baxter, I suggest you make sure your family is safe.”

Baxter looked at Rex. “How big of a danger is this?”

“I don’t know. Can you make sure Tillie is all right?”

“I’ll see if I can get everyone to my house. If not, there might be a bunch of little ones sleeping in your bed.”

Rex slapped Baxter’s back. “Good luck, brother.” Looking at Briggs, he grabbed Cactus’s reins. “Let’s go.”