A Kiss for Cade (26 page)

“Brody, go to the livery and tell Abraham to bring the carriage.”

The child skipped out to do as he was told.

“Mark my words,” Laticia warned. “Even if that Kolby boy comes back, it won’t change a thing. I’m taking the children with me in the morning. He’s unreliable. And dangerous. He has no business with these children—especially without a wife, but even if anyone were foolish enough to marry him, he would make a miserable father.” She stood and walked through the store to the front door, pausing on the threshold to confront Zoe, who had followed her. “You’re foolish to think you can ever count on him.”

Zoe refused to let the woman upset her. She had no idea what was keeping Cade, but instinct told her he had a reason—a valid reason—for the delay.

Oh, dear Moses, had he met up with one of his enemies? Her knees went weak. Had someone waylaid him on the road? Was he lying some-where in a ditch right now, bloodied and unable to move?

“I’m sure he’ll be here any moment.” Zoe took a deep breath, trying to ignore her sudden chill. “It is so like Shelby to insist that Cade stay for supper.”

“If it hadn’t been for Abraham’s queasy stomach, we’d be gone by now,” Laticia said. “All that rich food you’ve been feeding us. No one knows how to fix chicken anymore. A body can’t eat it without getting sick.”

If Laticia had dyspepsia, it wasn’t from the chicken, Zoe decided. The killjoy had gorged on five pieces, along with mashed potatoes, gravy, and three ears of corn. She’d barely had room for the cherry cobbler, she’d declared, but she’d managed to put away two servings.

“Are you feeling poorly, Miss Wiseman?”

“Not me.” The matron burped. “Never been sick a day in my life. But Abraham now, he’s got a delicate constitution.”

“Maybe he’d like a little baking soda to settle his stomach.”

Laticia held up a bony hand. “I’ll see to Abraham’s needs. Don’t want a fuss made over him.”

Zoe smiled inside. Abraham wasn’t sick; he was stalling. Bless his dear heart. But poor Lawrence Willis. Zoe wondered if he would ever speak to her again.

Abraham soon arrived with the carriage. After Laticia left and the children were in bed, Zoe picked up her sewing basket and went into the store. She needed something cheerful to drown out the silence. She cranked up the phonograph. The music reminded her of Cade. They had danced to this tune.

She was grateful she didn’t have to leave the children. Seth Brighton had to care for his farm and stock during the day, but he wanted to tend to Bonnie at night. He assured Zoe he would fetch her if he needed her.

Zoe sighed as her thoughts came back to Cade. She glanced toward the darkened window. Was Laticia right? Had he ridden off, never to be heard from again? She wished she’d never told him that she wouldn’t blame him if he rode away and never came back.

After darning every sock in the basket, she put her sewing aside and changed the cylinder on the phonograph. For the hundredth time, she glanced at the clock. Two in the morning. She walked to the window and pulled the curtain aside. The full moon made it seem almost as bright as day.

The sound of a horse’s hooves broke into her thoughts, and she bolted to the back door. “Cade? Is that you?”

A riderless Maddy grazed beneath the old oak. Zoe peered up and down the backyard. There was no one but the mare in sight.
Please, no. Not Cade, not now.
Shelby said he was tracking down the Nelson gang.
Oh, Cade, you fool. Why did you go alone?
A sob caught in her throat and choked her. “Zoe?”

She turned, startled. “Holly? What are you doing up?”

The girl rubbed her eyes while Zoe walked over to her and sat her down. She didn’t want her to see Maddy. The child’s gaze traveled to the stack of bedclothes in the corner of the room. Cade’s.

“Is Uncle Cade sleeping at the jail tonight?”

Zoe didn’t want to lie to the child, but neither did she want to concern her any more than she was. “No, Seth is staying tonight, so Cade can be with you. He’s still taking care of Pop’s business.”

Holly’s eyes drooped closed. “He’ll be here soon?”

Zoe’s gaze drifted to the open window. “Soon.”

“I can’t sleep,” Will said, sitting up on his pallet. “It’s too noisy.”

Zoe patted the opposite seat. “Sit with Holly and me.”

Dropping to the chair, Will mumbled, “Brody snores.”

“Brody always snores. Why does it bother you tonight?” Holly asked.

Zoe wondered what would happen if Cade didn’t come back. Laticia would take them. As much as Zoe loved them, she wasn’t their blood kin.
Oh, Cade! How could you do this to me?
She wouldn’t let the children go. She’d run away with them before she’d give them up to Laticia Wiseman, run as far and as fast as she could go. Hunt Cade down, and…and…what? What would she do? Nothing. If Cade didn’t come back, there wasn’t a blessed thing she could do. The children would be lost to her forever.

Brody turned over and then sat up, his hair standing on end. “Is it morning?”

“No. Go back to sleep,” Will said.

“I can be up if you can.”

“Brody, sit here,” Zoe said. “I’ll get us some cookies. I think we could use a treat.”

Holly lifted her head and peered at her sleepily. “Now? In the middle of the night?”

Brody’s eyes brightened. “Honest?”

“Honest.” Addy might be rolling over in her grave, but dying from a treat in the middle of the night was better than dying of worry.

Zoe put a plate of cookies on the table as Missy came into the kitchen, clutching the jar housing Bud. “Bud’s scawed.”

Zoe smiled. “What’s Bud got to be scared about?”

“He wants Uncle Cade to pwotect him.”

“From what?”

“Aunt Waticia.”

Zoe patted her lap, and Missy climbed up. “I think we need to talk about Aunt Laticia.” The child settled into place. Holly and Will scooted their chairs closer. “Laticia isn’t here to harm you, and she wouldn’t harm Bud—most especially not Bud.”

“Where’s Uncle Cade? I want Uncle Cade.”

“Shhh. Here, have a cookie. Let’s have a party and think of happy things.”

“Uncle Cade makes me happy.”

Smiling, Zoe hugged her. He’d better have a good excuse when he did show up, a darn good one. Her gaze drifted toward the darkened window, and she bit her lower lip.
Where are you?

The clock struck four. Earlier, the children had slipped back to bed. Seated alone at the kitchen table, Zoe glanced at the clock. Exhaustion overcame her, and she was physically sick from worry. Her head ached and her eyes burned. Why had she hoped that Cade had changed? Hadn’t she known better than to count on him? Wasn’t getting stung once enough?

She slumped on the kitchen chair, cradling her face in her hands.
Drat your hide. Please come back.

Help. She needed help. From whom? Pop? He wasn’t any help with a broken leg. Abraham? Yes. She would have Abraham drive her to where Shelby said he’d seen the dead bull. Where was it? She tried to remember what Glori-Lee had said.

Grabbing her shawl, she left the store and quickly ran to the livery to summon Abraham, then hurried on to Glori-Lee’s. Banging on the back door of the café, she called out, “Glori-Lee!” Glori-Lee was always up at this hour to bake biscuits.

The café owner came to the door in her dressing gown, her hair wadded under a brown hairnet. “What in the world?”

“Where did Cade say he was going?”

Glori-Lee thought for a moment. “Why, he didn’t say exactly, just somewhere near Shelby’s place, then on to Herschel’s.”

“The kids were up most of the night, so they’ll probably sleep late. Can you look in on them for me?”

“You can’t go looking for him by yourself at this time of the morning. Get Walt or Ben—”

“No time. Abraham will drive me.”

“In Laticia Wiseman’s buggy? Are you crazy?”

“I’m hoping to be back before she finds out.”

“I’m hoping you will be too. The whole town hopes you will, believe me,” Glori-Lee stressed.

Five minutes later, Abraham pulled up alongside the café and Zoe climbed in, pointing in the direction she wanted to go.

“You bring a pistol, Miz Bradshaw, in case o’ trouble?” he asked.

“No, Abraham. I’m scared of guns.”

“Me too—’specially when I’s on the wrong end of one.” He pulled a small handgun from his jacket pocket and laid it between them on the buggy seat. Patting it for assurance, he said, “Jist in case o’ trouble, Miz Bradshaw. Jist in case.”

As they passed Harry at the edge of town, Zoe yelled, “Have you been here all night?”

He straightened and said, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Did Cade ride this way when he left yesterday?”

“Shore did. Said something about finding Herschel’s bull, dead!”

“Thank you!”

The setting moon cast eerie shadows along the road. The heavy thicket and low underbrush made a perfect cover for outlaws. Zoe found her hand resting on the pistol, “jist in case.”

They had gone more than two miles when Zoe grabbed Abraham’s arm.

“Slow down!” She pointed up ahead. “Something’s there—at the side of the road.”

Abraham squinted. “Shore is. Looks ta be…oh, Lordy, looks ta be a body, Miz Bradshaw.”

Zoe was out of the buggy before it stopped. She ran so hard, she thought her lungs would burst trying to suck in enough air. Even before she reached him, she recognized Cade. When her heart threatened to explode with grief, she reminded herself that if he’d gotten himself killed, he had no one to blame but himself. She wouldn’t care—she wouldn’t!

Blindly falling to her knees, she sobbed, “Please, no…” Who was she kidding? She would lay down her life for him. She quickly loosened his shirt collar and felt for a pulse, wilting with relief when a strong, steady beat throbbed against her fingertips. “Abraham, come quickly. He’s alive!”

With every ounce of strength she could muster, she lifted him to a sitting position. “Cade, can you hear me?” She patted his cheek. “Cade!”

His eyelids fluttered. “Red? So tired.” He leaned against her chest. “Maddy spooked—”

“I know.” Zoe brushed his hair back off his forehead and felt the heat. Fear constricted her throat, and she whispered, “Cade, you’re burning up.” She turned to Abraham as he came running. “Hurry, Abraham, hurry! We’ve got to get him into the buggy. He’s sick.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

I
can’t believe you went out there alone.” Zoe gently sponged cool water across Cade’s forehead, and then she fussed with his pallet, which she’d laid beside the others in the jail. “Pop’s been worried sick about you. I’ll tell him you’re back.”

He cocked an eye open and groaned. “Were you worried?”

“Only because of the children.”

“I like it when you worry about me.” Cade took hold of her wrist as a spasm crossed his features. “Can you do something about my headache?”

“If I could, I would. Lie still.”

“Come on, Zoe. I’m dying.”

“There’s not much I can do.” Heartsick, she knew that he’d come down with the same illness that killed John and Addy. “You’re sick, like everybody else.” She crossed his hands on his chest and pulled the blanket closer to his neck. “Rest. I don’t see how you walked all that way with the fever.”