Bittner, Rosanne (33 page)

Tess
suddenly had to force back an urge to laugh. She could just picture John
blowing those outlaws out of that cabin. Only John Hawkins would pull a stunt
like that. Before her abduction she would have been entirely against such a thing
herself, but now she was not so sure it was such a bad thing to do after all.
Derrek Briggs had raped a little Indian girl. Why
shouldn't
he be blown
to pieces? But then these women probably would not think raping an Indian child
was so bad. John knew that. That was why no one knew the truth behind his deed.

"I
suppose it was quite uncivilized," she answered. "But then none of us
was there. Who are we to say he didn't do what needed doing?"

Louise
quickly guided the conversation to another topic, sensing the animosity between
Tess Hawkins and Harriet Cooper was not going to end soon. She got the women
talking about selling their quilts and having a bake sale to raise money to
contribute to the coffer being set up for a new church, whatever denomination it
might be. Most of the women were starved for any kind of Protestant faith, to
be able to go to church. The room was soon filled with so much gabbing that at
first they did not even hear the knock at the door.

Someone
pounded harder, and Louise left them to go to the door. She quickly returned
for Tess. "It's that partner of your husband's, Ken Randall," she
told her. "Oh, my dear, I'm afraid something has happened to your husband.
He says you should come right away!"

Tess
tucked her needle into the quilt and quickly rose, hurrying out into the
hallway to see a dusty, tired-looking Ken standing just inside the door.
"Somebody in town told me you'd be here," he said. "You've got
to come to the house, Tess. I just took John there. He's bad hurt. The doc's
with him now."

"Oh,
dear!" Tess's chest tightened with dread. She had actually looked forward
to John's return. There was so much she wanted to tell him. What if he died
before she got the chance? She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and
turned to Louise. "I must leave. Tell the other women for me."

"Of
course, dear. I hope Mr. Hawkins will be all right. I'll tell Mary Sanders her
husband is at your house doctoring your husband."

"Yes,
thank you. And thank you for inviting me to the quilting. Anything I can do to
help with your projects, just let me know." She hurried out with Ken
before Louise could answer. Why did this have to happen now? All the danger
John had faced, and as far as she knew he'd never been seriously hurt. Why now?
Oh, God, she loved him! She actually loved him! "How bad is it, Ken?"

"Real
bad, I'm afraid. Shot in the back from far off. I couldn't see nothin'. It was
like somebody was just out to execute him."

"My
God," Tess whispered, tears stinging her eyes. One night. They'd had one
night together, and as beautiful as it was at the time, it had turned into
disaster before John left. She would never forgive herself for that if he died
now.

Tess
sat watching her husband, feeling helpless. It seemed incredible that a man like
John Hawkins could be lying near death. To see him this way made her realize
how she truly felt about him. There was so much to say, and she hoped she would
get the chance to say it. The man had married her just to give her child a
name, with no promises from her to ever truly love him. How many men would give
up their freedom like that for a woman who could give them nothing in return
but a child that was not even his own?

For
all his ruthlessness, there was a goodness about him she was growing to love.
If only he would wake up... live... so she could tell him. He'd been shot in
the back. The bullet had passed through a lung, and the doctor said there was
little anyone could do but wait and hope the lung would heal, as well as the
damaged muscle and broken rib around the lung. There was no bullet to remove,
but there had been a lot of internal bleeding. John's chest was horribly
bruised, and an ugly hole at the front of it had been stitched.

Poor
Ken was beside himself. He had been near tears several times, and Tess decided
that such loyalty only proved John was a much better man than most people gave
him credit for. "He's saved my hide more than once," Ken had told
her. "Risked his own life doin' it. We've been in a lot of fixes, near to
got our heads blown off a hundred times; but this... this was about as low-down
and unfair as a man can get. Back-shot! We had some dangerous run-ins up in
Indian Territory, got through all that, got all the way back home, and now this
happens here. If I ever get hold of the son-of-a-bitch who did this, I'll slit
his throat!"

What
made Tess sick at heart was the fact that this had happened after John had paid
a visit to Jim Caldwell's ranch, asking questions. Caldwell was behind this, no
doubt about it.

The
door to their small bedroom opened, and Ken looked inside. "Any
change?"

Tess
swallowed against a lump in her throat. "No. He just... lies there...
groans once in a while, but he hasn't opened his eyes." She put her head
in her hands.

"It
helps, you bein' here, talkin' to him, touchin' him. He knows. He feels it. If
he's gonna' pull through this, it will be for you, Tess. All he talked about
comin' back was how he'd missed you and hoped you could have a real marriage
when he got back. Fact is, that's a little bit the reason this happened."

Tess
raised her head and looked at him with tear-filled eyes. "What do you
mean?"

Ken
came inside and removed his hat, hooking it on the back of a wooden chair
across the bed from where Tess sat. He sat down. "Well, the one thing he
wants to do before quittin' the Rangers is prove Jim Caldwell is involved in
cattle rustlin'. That was why we paid the man a visit before comin' back here,
just kind of lookin' around the place, seein' how Caldwell reacted to us bein'
there. 'Course we didn't tell
him
why we was there. We told him we was
just passin' through on our way back and wondered if he'd had any trouble with
rustlers. We'd checked with a couple other ranchers who told us the trouble
seemed to be startin' up again. On our way off Caldwell's ranch, we checked the
brands on some of his cattle just for the hell of it. Everything seemed fine,
till we got about a mile off his place, then bam. A rifle shot from way up in
the hills. I jumped down, and Hawk, he fell off his horse. I could see he was
bad hurt, so there wasn't time for me to go chargin' over to where I think the
shot came from. I never saw nobody, no horse, no nothin'. It all happened so
fast, and for no reason."

Tess
sighed with sickening guilt. "This is my fault, Ken. You should be as
angry with me as you are with whoever did this." She put her head back and
closed her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I have a feeling I can
name exactly who shot John."

Ken
frowned. "What are you talkin' about?"

She
brushed at the tear. "I have never liked Jim Caldwell myself. He often
harassed my father about selling out to him. And his wife is rude and
arrogant." Tess rubbed at her eyes. "Anyway, my carrying is not the
only reason I left Caldwell's employ. I couldn't have stayed even if I wasn't
going to have a baby."

"Why
is that? Because of
Mrs.
Caldwell, I expect. There's a witch if I ever
saw one."

Tess
shook her head. "It wasn't just because of Harriet either." She
looked at John. Instead of his normally robust, sun-browned coloring, he had a
sick gray look to him. She reached out and touched his hand, still astounded to
see such a big, strong, daring man lying so near death. "I... should have
told him," she said, the tears wanting to come again. She sniffed and
swallowed. "I should have told both of you what I heard."

Ken
leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "What did you hear? What
ain't you told us, Tess?"

Tess
watched John as she spoke. "I didn't sleep very well after I knew about...
the baby." She touched her stomach with her free hand. She was a little
over four months along now, but her waist was just beginning to swell. "I
was lying awake, trying to decide what to do. It was about two a.m. I was so
restless that I decided to go downstairs and make myself some tea, but when I
got down the stairs, I heard voices, men's voices." She turned her gaze
then to Ken, studying his gray eyes. "It made me curious, voices at that
hour of the morning. I determined they came from Jim Caldwell's study and went
down the hall, noticed the door was shut. I suppose I had no right, but I
couldn't help leaning close to listen."

She
closed her eyes again, rising from her chair. "I heard Mr. Caldwell say
something about John Hawkins being too good at what he does. He said he was
worried John would someday track someone's stolen cattle right to his ranch. He
said he hoped John would... would get himself killed or he would find a way to
get him hanged. He said John's killing Derrek Briggs had foiled some of his
plans, something like that, said maybe he could find some new men in Indian
Territory. He said he would have to lay low for a while, said something about
someone doing a good job of altering the brands on the cattle they bring
in."

"Damn!"
Ken muttered. He also rose. "Why in hell didn't you
say
somethin'!"

Tess
shook her head. "Who in this town or in all of Texas would believe it?
Everyone knows Jim Caldwell has wanted my father's land since we first came
here. They would think I was making it up. It would have been my word against
Jim Caldwell's, the word of a grieving widow who people think turned a little
bit crazy after being abducted by Comancheros, a woman who has had problems in
the past with Jim Caldwell. And God only knows what kind of stories Caldwell
would have made up about me! You can't go accusing someone like that of such a
crime without good, solid proof, and I knew he would never be stupid enough to
allow any kind of proof to be found anyplace in his papers or on his land. What
good would it have done to say anything?"

Ken
frowned, running a hand through his hair. "But... surely John mentioned
his suspicions to you. Surely you knew he might go try to investigate Caldwell
himself. He should have been warned!"

"I
know that now!" Tears started coming again. "I didn't tell John
because I suspected he'd go storming onto Caldwell's ranch and risk his life
trying to prove it. And I knew he would find nothing. He would only anger Jim
Caldwell even more against him, make unnecessary trouble for himself. You know
how he is."

"He
ain't that stupid, Tess. Sure, he risks his life, but he'd have known in that
case to be extra careful. Now he's gone and got himself shot anyway."

Tess
turned away, no longer able to stop the tears. "Damn it!" She
sniffed. "He'll probably... never forgive me... if he lives through this!
And neither will you, whether he lives or dies. I'll never forgive myself. I
just... I thought it was the best thing to do. I'm so sorry!" She pulled a
handkerchief from where it was stuck into the sash at the waist of her dress and
used it to blow her nose and wipe her eyes. "I had so many... plans... for
when he returned. So much to... tell him... about how I feel... how I missed
him. Now this. He... married me to give my baby a father... and now he might
not even live to see the baby."

"Oh,
now wait a minute." Ken walked around the bed and came over to put a hand
on her shoulder. "I'm sorry myself. I guess I can understand why you did
it. Don't be cryin'. It ain't good you gettin' all upset." He took his
hand away and paced a little. "Me and Hawk—we've both told you he's too
mean to die, so quit talkin' about him dyin'. That ain't gonna' happen
unless... well, unless he decides himself that it's a good day to die. That's
what he always tells me. That's an Indian sayin', you know, decidin' when it's
a good day to die."

He
rested a hand on the bedpost at the head of the bed, looking down at John.
"And don't think he won't forgive you. If he sees in your eyes that you
really love him, want him to live and want to be a real... well, you know... a
real wife to him, ain't nothin' you could do that he wouldn't forgive. It's for
that same reason that he'll live, so you just concentrate on that. When he's
well enough, you can tell him the rest of it. I'll do some scoutin' around
myself in the meantime."

"No!"
Tess quickly wiped at her eyes again. "Please don't, Ken. If you go and
get yourself killed over this, then he
surely
would never forgive me,
nor could I live with it. Please promise you'll stay away from there until John
is well and you can decide together what to do."

Ken
sighed, facing her. "You said earlier you could probably guess who
actually shot John. You think it was Caldwell?"

She
walked around to the foot of the bed. "No. I... embarrassing as it is to
tell you how snoopy I was, I knelt down and looked through the keyhole. Believe
it or not, one of the men in the study with Caldwell was our illustrious
sheriff, Sam Higgins."

"Higgins!"

Tess
saw the anger rising in his eyes. "The other man in the office was
Caldwell's foreman, Casey Dunlap. I could tell by the snakeskin boots he wore.
I've never seen boots like that on any other man around here." She turned
away. "He... I heard him offer to take care of John Hawkins. He said he
could hunt him down, that he was a good aim." She shook her head, still
riddled with guilt. "I guess I just never thought he'd really do it.
Caldwell told him no, that he didn't want to get into a mess like that,
bringing an investigation by Texas Rangers. It's possible, if Dunlap did do it,
he didn't have Caldwell's permission. Caldwell is probably furious with him
right now, if he's heard about this."