The Donavans were part of the new influx of settlers who’d come to Oklahoma from St. Louis in the land rush a couple of years earlier. That land rush had a big hand in the troubles out here, where new settlers were pushing out Indians of numerous tribes who had themselves been forced to Oklahoma with promises of this being Indian country forever. As usual, the government had broken its promise, and now Oklahoma was filled with angry Indians, eager new settlers, and a host of outlaws who’d come here because there was very little law…until Lloyd and his father had come on the scene.
He followed Pat into the house, where Clara Donavan greeted him warmly. She immediately urged Lloyd to sit and poured him a cup of coffee.
“You must need a good rest,” the very robust woman told Lloyd. “We’ll put up your horse for you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Donavan. My father took some prisoners in to Guthrie, and I came this way to check on things here. Neighbors say they’ve had trouble with rustlers.”
“Well, we’ve not had problems so far, but it’s good of you to stop.”
“Your pa probably figures you’ll stay the night,” Pat Donavan added as Clara set some sweet cream and some sugar in front of Lloyd. “He won’t worry because he knows how well you can take care of yourself.”
“He’s an able young man, that he is,” Clara added, “just like his pa. A man would be a fool to go up against this one, that’s sure.”
Lloyd felt a little embarrassed at the compliments. He drank some coffee as he caught sight of the skirt of a green checkered dress at the top of the loft ladder. Katie came down the ladder, and just as she reached the bottom of the steps, the door opened and nineteen-year-old Tommy Donavan came inside.
“Lloyd! I thought that was your horse,” he said, coming in and shaking Lloyd’s hand. “I had my little brother put it up for you.”
Lloyd felt a bit shanghaied by the Donavans. “I could have gone back tonight,” he objected. “But I have to admit, I’m pretty worn-out.” He glanced sidelong at Katie. Her lovely red hair was pulled back neatly at the sides and hung down long and lustrous. Her eyes were as green as a grassy valley in the spring, and right now her cheeks were crimson with what Lloyd knew was embarrassment over her parents’ too-obvious solicitude.
“Hello, Lloyd,” she said softly. “Thank you for stopping by.”
“Just thought I’d follow up on some rumors about rustling,” he told her, sticking to the excuse for now. Still…he saw an expectancy in her eyes.
She held his gaze in mutual understanding, putting her hands to her cheeks as though to cool them off. “Mother and I just finished baking some sweet-potato pies. Would you like a piece?”
Lloyd nodded. “Sounds fine.” He forced himself to turn his attention to Pat. “Got any ideas who might be giving your neighbors problems?”
“The same idea you probably have. Indians. The sneaky devils are upset over settlers moving in on what’s supposed to be theirs, but how are we supposed to ignore free land, Lloyd? The government says we have a right to be here, so here we are.”
Lloyd took note of Katie’s slender fingers as she set a piece of pie in front of him. “Thank you,” he told her, giving her another smile. “It’s a good thing I don’t come out here too often. I’d be fat in no time from you and your mother’s cooking.”
Katie’s eyes sparkled with pleasure. “I’m sure your mother is a good cook too. I’ve heard your father rave about her bread and fried chicken.”
Lloyd laughed lightly. “Yeah, that’s true. I swear he loves that bread Mom makes as much as he loves the woman herself.”
“Ah, and anyone can tell how much your folks love each other,” Pat added.
“I tease him about that all the time,” Lloyd joked.
Katie turned away to cut more pie, and Lloyd thought she might be embarrassed at their frank talk. “Pa and I have a pretty good connection with most of the Indians in these parts, Pat,” Lloyd told him, changing the subject back to rustlers. “Pa thinks it’s maybe a few Indians bribed with whiskey and guns who are doing the rustling for white men. It’s hard to keep up with everything that goes on in this godforsaken country. We don’t get a lot of help out here. The government keeps promising to send soldiers, but so far we haven’t seen any. We’ve been out three weeks just hunting down the riffraff we brought in today. We could call in other marshals, but Pa likes to work alone, and the others have their hands full in their own territories—let alone the constant hunt for the Dalton gang.”