Wicked Wyoming Nights by Leigh Greenwood Page A

Association. They put him on the blacklist for buying mavericks at roundup for ten dollars a head. They don’t like sharing that kind of deal with an ex-cowboy.”
    “You’ve been gulled,” insisted Ira belligerently. “Stedman’s hand in glove with the barons.”
    “I don’t know where you get your information, friend, but you’ve been handed a load of bad dice. I used to work for an outfit near Sybelle Creek, one of the inside group, and they were hard set against all cowboys who turned their hand to ranching. Cord is the most successful ex-cowboy in Wyoming, and what he’s done, others hope to do. The big ranchers don’t want that.”
    Realizing Cord’s reputation had actually benefitted from his talk with this loud-mouthed stranger, Ira left the table swearing, but Eliza’s appearance caused him to swallow his curses. Watching these rough, unsentimental men sit hypnotized by her singing was balm to his wounded pride; it also meant money in his pocket. By the time her performance had ended in a storm of applause, his good mood was restored, and he went through the remainder of the evening without thinking about Cord again.
    Eliza’s worried expression deepened as she surveyed her students. It was the third week of school, and more than half the seats were still empty. She had been certain the schoolhouse would barely hold all the children who would show up the first day, but the dire predictions of the disgruntled were proving to be correct. Some parents didn’t care enough to see their children made the long journey into town each day, and it was much more enticing to the children to get lost in the shoulder-high grass of the valleys and draws than to spend the day cooped up in the schoolhouse.
    “Put your books away, children. It’s time for morning recess.” Almost before the last words were out of her mouth, several boys were on their feet and headed for the door, leaving their books still open on their desks or tumbled onto the floor in their hurry to be the first outside.
    “I’ll pick them up, Miss Smallwood.” It was nice to have a student as eager as Melissa Burton, but even Eliza found her Goody Two-Shoes attitude, along with her habit of tattling on everyone, extremely wearing.
    “That’s okay, Melissa. I’ll take care of it. You go on out and enjoy the fresh air.”
    “I’d rather stay in and get ahead on my next lesson.”
    Eliza gave up and went outside. Melissa was sixteen and already two full levels ahead of anyone else, which meant Eliza would have to spend even more of her precious time preparing lessons especially for her.
    Today the children could choose their own games, and they broke up into groups largely determined by age and sex, and soon were busily working off some of the energy they had stored up during their morning’s lessons. Watching them play naturally, without restraint and bursting with high spirits, Eliza forgot her concern over the truants and marveled at the energy, excitement, and animation in the bright, hopeful faces. They alone seemed to be untouched by the fear and hatred that wrapped its tendrils around Johnson County a little more tightly each day.
    “You look like the old woman in the shoe.” Eliza’s face broke into a smile at the sound of Cord’s voice, and her heart immediately began to beat double-time. Fortunately she did not blush, but her face felt hot and her brain was in a fever of excitement.
    “Did you come to see if I survived?”
    “I knew you would. I was wondering how your students were getting along.”
    The cloud descended on her face again. “The ones who come are making good progress, but there are so many who aren’t here.”
    “How many?”
    “I can’t be sure. Maybe a third more.”
    “Where do these come from?” he asked, indicating the children in the yard.
    “Town mostly.”
    “It seems enough to me.” Looking at the mass of running, shrieking children, Cord felt there were too many for any one spot.
    “Every