Courage to Love (Flynn Family Saga) (20 page)

Maggie drew her hand back and turned away.

Flynn began to chant the Lakota prayer for the dead.

Maggie’s hands curled into fists.  She turned and walked away.

*  *  *

They reached Sacramento without incident.  Maggie stood in the center of the circle.  “When you joined this train in St. Jo, I thought to myself that this was the sorriest bunch of greenhorns I’d ever seen.”  Laughter greeted this declaration.  Maggie grinned, but she sobered quickly.  "This has been a difficult crossing.  We have lost so many loved ones.  But I am proud of you.  All you have grown and changed as we made the journey together.  It has been an honor to know you."

Luke Devereux began to play a reel.  Ramon joined him.  In a few moments, couples were dancing, and the rest were tapping their feet.

Including Maggie.  The reel ended, and Luke began to play a waltz.

"May I have this dance?"  Flynn's voice was husky with emotion.

Maggie opened her mouth and shut it.  She turned and ran to her wagon.  She lay on her cot and cried, and this time, she didn't care who heard her.

She heard the distinctive sound of Wakta's gait.  She ran from the wagon, but she was too late.

Flynn rode eastward, toward Mount Doloroso.

*  *  *

A week later, Maggie, Ben and Billy rode into the lane that led to Skytop Ranch.  Emma ran to Ben.  Grinning, he leaped from his horse and lifted her in his arms.

Maggie looked away.

Supper was lavish with meat and potatoes and even tea.  Ben stared at Emma.  "Did you rob a bank?"

Emma laughed.  "No.  But something wonderful happened.  A man came to the house and said that Terence Barclay no longer owned the rangeland north of here.  The new owner offered me a very good deal on grazing rights."

Ben frowned.  "Does this Good Samaritan have a name?"

"Probably, but the agent wouldn't tell me what it was."  Emma cut slices of apple pie and placed them on small dishes and handed them around.

That night, as Maggie groomed Lady, Ben came into the barn.  "Maggie, how well do you know Elizabeth Barclay?"

Maggie hesitated.  "I haven't known her long, but she rolled up her sleeves and did whatever had to be done when I was taking care of those girls in San Francisco."

Ben sighed.  He jabbed his knife into a bale of hay.  "I don't trust her."

Maggie nodded.  "I don't blame you, but she hasn't given you any reason not to."

"What about her name?"  Ben glared at her.  "She has the same name as her father."

Maggie nodded again.  "And that same father disowned her after she was scarred by smallpox.  Apparently, the wealthy man he had picked out for her didn't want damaged goods."  Anger edged Maggie's voice.

Ben ran his hand through his hair.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't know."

Maggie shrugged.  "I don't blame you."  She looked away.  "I can't make myself trust Flynn either."

Ben laid a gentle hand on her back.  "Give yourself a little time, Magpie.  It's only been a year since you buried your daughter."

Maggie nodded.  Tears burned her eyes, but she was sick of crying, sick of waking up every morning with an ache in her chest.  She sighed and finished grooming Lady.  Then, she went upstairs to bed.

She dreamed of the day Sarah was born.  The air inside the wagon was stifling.  She could barely breathe.  And the pains kept on coming, but Sarah didn't.  Then, she heard the sound of hooves.  Flynn appeared in the opening and gave her something to chew.  It was a leaf, and it was bitter.  The pains changed.  They came harder, but the baby began to move.  It hurt.  It hurt more than anything ever had before, but she could not wait to hold her baby in her arms.

And then, suddenly, the pain stopped.

But the baby was silent, and Abby wouldn't let Maggie see her baby.  Maggie got up and walked toward Abby, but Abby ran from her.  The bleeding started, and Maggie fell, tumbling through the star-sprinkled sky.  She waited for Flynn to catch her, but Flynn was gone.  The ground came closer and closer.

"Wake up, Maggie!"  Someone shook her shoulder.

Maggie woke.

Emma stood beside the bed with an oil lamp in her hand.

Maggie looked away.  "I'm sorry I woke you.  It was just a dream."

"About Sarah?"  Emma's voice was gentle.

Maggie nodded.

Emma sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.  "I'm so sorry, Maggie."

Tears filled Maggie's eyes.  "It's my fault!  I dress like a man and I ride horses, and that's why she's dead!"

"No, Maggie.  No."  Emma put her strong arms around Maggie and rocked her.  "I didn't do any of those things, and my first child was born with the cord wrapped around his neck."

Maggie gasped.  "I didn't know."

Emma shrugged.  "Neither does Ben.  And he doesn't need to know.  He has suffered enough."

Maggie bowed her head.  "I never thought of that.  Flynn must be grieving, too."

"Of course he is."  Emma hugged her again.  "But with men, it's hard to tell sometimes."

Maggie shook her head without looking at Emma.  "I took him—I took him to the place where Sarah is buried, and he—he cried.  I'd never seen him cry before.  It scared me."

Emma nodded slowly.  "When Ben finally grieved our third child, I was afraid it would tear him apart."

"What—what did you do?"

Emma looked away.  "Nothing.  At first.  But he kept on sobbing.  Eventually, I just put my arms around him and held him."

"Is it really as simple as that?"

Emma shook her head.  "No, Maggie.  It's not."  She sighed.  "Sometimes, when the wagon train is delayed, I get scared that he's not coming back."

"Do you trust him?"

Emma hesitated.  "Absolutely?  No."

Maggie looked away.

"But I trust him to always do his best.  And when that isn't good enough, I trust him to try to do better."

Maggie's breath caught.  She turned back to Emma.  "How long did it take you to trust him again?"

"A couple of years.  After he came back.  But I made a decision to try.  We had Billy, and Billy needed a father."  She smiled faintly.  "And in spite of everything, I still loved him."

Maggie bit her lip.  "My mother never stopped loving my father.  And she was wrong."

Emma sighed.  "Ben told me about Lucy and Michael.  Honey, that isn't love.  It's just plain wishful thinking."

"What about Flynn and me?"

Emma tilted her head to one side.  "Ben told me that Flynn stayed with you when the Vaughns shot you, that you almost died, but he didn't run."

Maggie nodded.

Emma met her gaze steadily.  "Would Michael have done that for Lucy?"

Maggie gasped.  She looked away again.  "No.  No, he wouldn't."

Emma patted her shoulder.  "Get some rest, Maggie.  Dawn comes awfully early."

Maggie nodded again.

Emma left the room.

Maggie lay on her back with her arms beneath her head.  She thought about Flynn, about everything she knew about him.  She remembered the day he walked into her grandparents' house when they were dying of cholera.  She remembered him carrying Tommy Lonnegan across fifteen miles of badlands without food or water.  She remembered the gentleness of his touch as he dressed her wounds.

And she remembered the day he deserted her.

She rolled over onto her side, but she did not sleep again that night.

*  *  *

Maggie stayed with the Brewsters for another week.  Then, Ben drove her to Sacramento.  She boarded the train and sat by the window.  Night after night, she lay awake, remembering the trip the previous year.  She and Flynn had sat side by side on the hard wooden seats, watching the landscape roll away beside them.  She longed to trust him, to be with him.

But her mother's ghost stood between them.

Five days later, Maggie got off the train at Omaha Bluffs.  Sam was waiting for her.  He gave her a hug, and then he looked around.  "Flynn didn't come with you?"

Maggie shook her head.  "He rode east when we reached Sacramento.  He didn't even stay to collect his pay."

"You were going to
pay
him?"

Maggie nodded and looked away.  "I couldn't trust him, Papa."  Tears filled her eyes, and she turned back to him.  "I still can't."

Sam sighed.  "Come on, Magpie.  Kate is waiting for us."

It took another two weeks to reach St. Jo.  Maggie reined in Lady in front of Kate’s house.  She shut her eyes.

Sam touched her hand.  "Are you all right, honey?"

"No."  She smiled wanly and opened her eyes.  "But I will be."

Sam squeezed her hand.  Together they entered the house.

That night, someone knocked on the door.

Kate went to the door, and Maggie followed her.

Flynn stood on the porch.  "Good evening, Kate."

Kate frowned and started to close the door.  “You’re not welcome here, Flynn.”

“Who is it, Kate?”  Sam’s rumble carried from inside the house.

“It’s Flynn.”  Kate’s tone cut like a knife.

Flynn turned and started back down the steps.

Sam filled the tiny foyer.  “Kate, he needs a place to stay just as much as Maggie does.”

Kate’s mouth thinned.  “Hannah Jolson has lots of rooms this time of year."

Flynn smiled faintly at Sam.  “It’s all right.”  He swung up onto Wakta’s back and rode away.

Maggie stood in the doorway.  A part of her wanted to go after Flynn.  A part of her was glad that Kate had sent him away.

Sam went back into the house and got his hat.  He stopped in the doorway and turned to Kate.  “This is my home.  My friends are always welcome here.”

Kate’s face lost its color.  “How can you welcome him into our home after what he did to Maggie?”

“That is between Maggie and Flynn.”  Sam put his hat on and stomped down the stairs.

Maggie couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.  She felt cold, colder than she ever had before.  “Papa—”

Sam stopped and faced her.  “Do
you
want him here?”  His expression softened when he saw the look on her face.  “Oh, Maggie.  I’m sorry.  I thought you had healed enough.”

Maggie shook her head.  She started to shiver.

Sam sighed.  “Come inside and warm up, Magpie."

Maggie nodded.  She let Sam lead her back inside the house.  She saw the embroidered motto on the parlor wall. 
Home is where the heart is.

She started to cry.  She turned and ran from the house.  She ran to the livery stable.  Her hands shook as tried to groom Lady.  Lady snorted and pranced away from her.

“Maggie?  Are you all right?”

Maggie turned.

Sam stood in the doorway.  His presence filled it like a force of nature.  “Magpie?  What’s wrong?”

Maggie shivered.  “She was right.  Kate was right.  She said Flynn would hurt me and he did!  And I can’t—I can’t trust him anymore!”

Sam crossed the distance between them and pulled her into a hug.  His arms were strong and warm.  Her grief battered at the walls of ice she had built around her heart, but she couldn't grieve, couldn't give in to that awful pain.

She pushed free of Sam.  "I'm all right."

Sam opened his mouth and shut it.  He sighed.  "Come on, Maggie.  Kate's waiting supper for us."

Maggie nodded.  Together, they walked back to the house.

Sam asked her about the crossing.

Maggie looked down at her plate.  “I don’t know if I’ll be running a train next year.”

“What happened out there?”

Haltingly, Maggie told him of Ross and Julie Evans and Flynn.  “I almost died, and he stayed.  This time he stayed.  But what about next time?”

Sam sighed.  “I don’t know.  None of us knows what we’ll do when we’re pushed to the edge of our limits, Magpie.  You’ve seen it.  Greenhorns that you were sure wouldn’t make it past Lancaster are the very ones who help the others over Doloroso Pass.”

Maggie nodded.  “It’s just that...”

“Your parents left you, too.  Over and over again,” Kate said softly.

Maggie nodded.

Kate came around the table and hugged her.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have sent Flynn away.  Sam is right, the two of you need to work this out.”  She sighed.  “I should know.  The first year Sam and I were married, I used to lie awake at night every time he left the wagon train, sure he would never come back.”

“Just like Richard,” Maggie said softly.

Kate nodded.  She reached over and took her husband’s hand in hers and squeezed it.  “But eventually, I learned to trust him.”

“How?  What changed?”

Kate smiled at Sam.  “He always came back.”

Maggie looked away.  "I'm not sure I'm brave enough to risk getting hurt again."

Kate hugged her.  "Oh, Magpie.  You are the bravest girl I've ever met.  If anyone can do this, it's you."

Maggie hoped with all her heart that Kate was right, but that night, as she lay on her bed, all she could think of was the day Flynn left her.

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

Flynn lay on the narrow bed in his room at Hannah’s boarding house.  Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw Kate’s face, twisted with hatred.

The worst of it was, he felt like he deserved it.

He got up and used his crutch to walk over to the window.  He could see Kate’s house, a few doors down.  The light shone from Maggie’s window.  He smiled.  He knew that when she couldn’t sleep, she read.  He wondered what she was reading.  He wondered if it was
Taming of the Shrew
.  He wondered what “pheeze” really meant.

He sighed and got out his copy of
Don Quixote
.

In Spanish.

Finally, he slept.  He dreamed of Elmira, of the rows and rows of the dead.  Grief tore at his heart like the claws of a bear.  He woke with a gasp.  He opened the window and looked eastward.

False dawn turned the sky a pale gray, like the borrowed dress Maggie had worn when her parents died.

And then he knew what he had to do.  Maybe Maggie would take him back someday, and maybe she wouldn’t.  In the meantime, he had to face the ghosts of his past.  He laced on his leg and dressed.  He left the boarding house without waiting for breakfast.  He walked directly to Kate’s house.  He hesitated at the foot of the stairs.  “Robert Sean Flynn, you have faced Indians, the Union Army and the gallows.  Kate Anders is nothing to be afraid of.”