Lori Connelly - The Lone Cowboy of River Bend

“I need to go.”

“You can’t leave.” A slender, gloved hand clamped onto him with surprising strength. “My sister would die to meet you.” The cunning glee reflected in her eyes sent the sensation of being an albino deer, hunted for its rare hide, washing over him. “We brought a picnic and you must join us.”

Revulsion knotted his stomach. Too many people were acting as if they were attending the summer county fair instead of a winter hanging. He’d never understand why a somber event excited some otherwise good citizens. Nate fought to respond with the manners his mother insisted on from all her children even as adults.

“No.”

Her face fell into a crushed expression at the mere hint of harshness in his tone, reminding him of her youth. Nate ground his teeth again for a few seconds before drawing in a fortifying breath. He managed to tack on a muttered “thank you” before moving away from her as swiftly as possible.

The easy escape sent relief coursing through him, but before long he sensed someone was following him again. Hoping the young woman wasn’t pursuing him, he glanced back and discovered Sheriff Marston, the man he sought, a few paces behind him. Nate grimaced even as he paused, waiting. The smirk on his friend’s face gave him the distinct impression Matt had witnessed his encounter.

Nate shifted impatiently. His gaze swept the people near him, worrying Nancy, or another like-minded woman, would dart out to grab him. In seconds that seemed to take an eternity to pass, Matt stepped up next to him.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” His good friend sounded a shade too innocent.

Delivering a glare as his only answer, Nate resumed walking toward the edge of town.

“Don’t ask you about the fine young woman who stopped to chat with you?”

Nate flicked a glance at the other man, holding his tongue with effort. He was pleased Matt and his cousin, Claire, had healed their relationship, truly, but ever since those two had gotten back together the man was insufferably cheerful. He found a positive take in almost every situation now.

It grated on his nerves.

“She looked sweet.”

Ignoring the statement, Nate kept moving, weaving through the milling people.

“What was wrong with this one?”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he snapped, “You already know.”

“She dared speak to you?”

Nate didn’t respond.

“Were you this rude to the poor child?”

“No.”

“Really?”

The disbelief in Matt’s tone made him reconsider his answer. “Maybe, a little.”

“Shocking, your mother would be appalled.”

“Then it’s good she’s in Ireland, where word of my poor manners won’t reach her.”

“Oh, you never know, it might. Stories about the Recluse of River’s Bend have traveled throughout the wilds of Oregon.”

Nate halted abruptly, scowling anew at his friend. “It’s not funny.” He and his brothers were responsible for the family ranch while their parents were overseas. “I don’t want anything spoiling Ma’s visit.”

Still grinning, Matt raised an eyebrow. “Your mother hasn’t seen her sisters in over twenty years. I doubt hearing you’ve been rude would surprise her, let alone spoil anything.”

“You’re not taking this seriously.” Nate shook his head, moving forward again. “And I have to be rude. These women aren’t discouraged by polite chit chat.”

“You shouldn’t let a little attention bother you.”

“I don’t like it.”

“They’re just flirting with you.”

“Strangers? With no encouragement?” Nate shook his head. “They’re making a laughing stock out of me.”

“Those women were definitely not laughing at you.”

Nate leveled a look at Matt. “Last week, out on the Double J, Judson’s hired hands kept hanging back in the shadows of the barn, grinning and whispering.”

“They could’ve been talking about Ben.”

“They wouldn’t have been smiling if the subject had been whether or not Ben is the rustler.” Nate held his gaze steady.

“Good point.” Matt paused for a moment, then advised in a more serious tone, “Don’t let it get to you. Ignore it.”

“I’ve tried. Hasn’t helped.”

The long-legged men covered a lot of distance in a short span of time. They passed three storefronts before Matt spoke again. “Gossip usually dies if it isn’t fed.”

“Then obviously someone is feeding it.”

“Agreed, but you have to admit, it’s fascinating how far the story has spread.”

“I don’t need every woman I run into trying to heal my imaginary broken heart .”

“Don’t exaggerate. It’s only been a handful.”

Matt smiled in the face of Nate’s hard stare. “That’s five too many.”

“There has always been a woman or two seeking your attention, what’s a few more?”

His friend’s matter-of-fact tone frustrated him but a group of approaching women caused him to hold his tongue. Nate moved, putting Matt between himself and the group of seven. He bowed his head to hide his face until after they passed.

“No woman singled me out until the stupid story spread.”

“Emmaline Porter.”

“What about her?” Nate demanded. “She married a pig farmer from Corvallis.”

“After she spent a year trying to get you to notice her.”

“One misguided woman.” He waved a hand in a dismissive gesture.

“And Agnes Gardner?”

“Moved to West Bend with her sister.”

“Because you broke her heart.”

“I never spoke a word to her.”

A short bark of laughter burst out of Matt. “Exactly.”

“Your point?”

“The basic story irritating you now has been whispered by the good women of Fir Mountain for years. Someone simply built on what was already floating around.”

“You think I brought this on myself?” Indignation accented each word.

Matt shrugged. “Some women don’t appreciate being ignored.”

An increase in raised voices distracted Nate. He looked in the direction of the sound. A short distance ahead of them people had withdrawn, clearing a circle in the middle of the street around a handful of men who were shouting and shoving one another. A glance back at Matt revealed the somber shift in his companion’s expression. His friend appeared to be on the verge of stepping in but then Marshal Evans arrived on the scene. The other lawman shoved his way through the onlookers and in minutes had the situation under control.

“I don’t ignore people. I just enjoy spending most of my time alone. Nothing wrong with it.” Nate indicated with a jerk of his head the sullen men facing the marshal as he and Matt walked past them. “Some people could benefit from doing the same.”

“Or perhaps they need more time with others to reinforce proper behavior.”

Nate shrugged. “With time and patience you can make a coyote a pet but it’s still a coyote.”

“So you fear certain women want to make you a pet?”

“Cute.”

“My point is-”

“Silly.”

“That being reclusive makes you-”

“I’m not a recluse.”

“Oh? Other than when you’re helping me? When do you ride into town?”

“How often I’m in Fir Mountain is immaterial.”

“I beg to differ. The fact you’re rarely seen makes you seem mysterious-”

“Mysterious,” Nate scoffed.

“Mysterious,” Matt repeated firmly. “Especially after you moved onto River’s Bend. Ever since, you’ve come in for staples or to attend church only once in a blue moon. The women refer to you like some sort of tragic hero, finding you romantic-”

“I am not romantic.”

“Plainly the young woman disagreed with you.” Matt laid a hand on his chest, fluttered his eyelashes, then without missing a step continued in a high-pitched mockery of a woman’s voice. “After losing the love of his life, the poor man moved out into the wilderness, all alone, to nurse his wounded heart.”