Emmy's Equal (29 page)

Thunder crashed directly overhead with a noise like the heavens had split. Diego ducked from the resulting explosion of light, the brightest he’d ever seen in his life, but not before the flash illuminated Cuddy tied to a wagon wheel. Instinctively, Diego came up on his knees then dropped again when a young man scurried past Cuddy and bailed into the covered wagon.

As Diego tried to decide what to do, the rumbling started again, this time moving the earth beneath him. Realizing the sound was bearing down on him, he glanced up in time to roll out of the path of a madly dashing cow.

Two more sailed past, running right through the middle of the camp, dodging the fire so they missed the two wild-eyed men.

A scream rang out, coming from the direction of the charging herd. Diego flew to his feet and ran. He roared for Emmy, but she couldn’t have heard. The unending crash of thunder colliding with pounding hooves and frightened bellows was deafening.

The scene before him was the essence of a man’s nightmares. An endless sea of red cattle charged his direction, appearing then disappearing as jagged spikes of light exploded around them. Bodies of downed cattle scattered the ground, tripping the others, creating a mad game of falling dominoes.

Emmy, her hair unpinned and her dress torn from one shoulder, darted in front of the driving wall of terror. Her mouth opened in another scream as she ran blindly into the path of certain death. Without a moment’s hesitation, Diego hurtled toward her.

Magda placed Emmy in God’s keeping and let go of her fear. After all, she had enough on her plate for the moment. She groped for Willem’s warm hand and squeezed, thrilled that she felt the tiniest response.

She decided that while she was yielding her loved ones to the Lord, she’d poke Willem in His hands as well. It seemed only God could save him, and she prayed He would ... if the lightning prowling the sky behind them didn’t get him first.

Little Pete slowed his horse even with them. “I don’t believe we will outrun this storm, señoras, but we must try. It’s very dangerous.” He drew closer. “Forgive me, Mrs. Dane, but will it harm your husband to go faster?”

“We’ve taken him on bumpier rides,” Bertha piped up. “Ain’t we, Magda?”

“That doesn’t mean it was good for him, Bertha,” she called back. Pete cleared his throat. “There’s a cut-off up ahead that leads to my good friend’s jacal. We can take shelter there.”

Magda’s throat tightened. “I suppose we have to risk it.”

Pete spurred his horse. “Follow me. Don’t worry, it’s not far.”

“Hang on to Willem,” Bertha cried, her voice nearly lost in the wind.

Magda held Willem’s head the way she had before, braced between her two hands. The rig took off so fast she felt it might rumble from beneath her, especially since she couldn’t hold on. Her bottom, already sore, took a pounding on the rough boards of the wagon bed. “I’ll be black and blue,” she shouted. If Bertha answered, she didn’t hear.

The ride jostled her to the side, and she bumped her head hard on the rail. With no hands free to right herself, she lay draped behind Willem, helpless. Her head took another sharp rap every time they hit a bump, and there were too many to count.

A sob tore from her throat, carried away by strong gusts and crashing thunder. She felt alone in her suffering. While seeking God’s protection for Willem and Emmy, she’d forgotten to lay herself on the altar as well.

“Are You even there?” she cried in anguish.

She craned to see the heavens past the surrey top. A bolt of lightning, so close she felt the hair rise on her head, was her only answer—until Willem’s searching fingers found her face and patted her cheek.

An inferno surged within Diego. He shot forward, tackling Emmy and knocking her clear seconds before the stampeding beasts would have trampled her. She screeched his name and clung to his neck. Scrambling to his feet, he pulled her ahead of the next set of hooves and rolled her beneath the wagon.

Emmy heaved with sobs. Something told Diego it had nothing to do with their narrow escape. Struggling to catch her breath, she twisted beneath him to stare over her shoulder. Her eyes were bulging pools of fear.

He smoothed her hair. “You’re safe now,
mi querida.
” The endearment slipped from his heart to his lips. “It’s over now.”

She fiercely shook her head. “He’s still out there.”

He pressed his finger to her lips and pointed above them, posing the question in his eyes.

She shook her head no.

“Who, Emmy?”

She shuddered. “Please be careful. He has a knife.”

Diego’s spine tingled. He hurriedly assessed the situation. One man above him in the wagon. One more skulking in the darkness with a blade. Cuddy, groggy and tied to a wheel beside him. Two unarmed men trussed up beside the fire.

He had a knife, too, but he needed to even the odds. Bending his knee, he slid the pistol from his boot and showed it to her.

She nodded.

He surveyed the area around them. The worst of the storm had blown over, leaving hardly a drop of rain behind. The wind was still up, but only weak gusts rustled the wagon cover. The campfire had died to embers and one of the two lanterns had gone out.

Diego remembered Little Pete and the women, directly in the path of the rushing cattle and perilous lightning. Wincing, he pushed the thought away. He could only manage one crisis at a time.

He patted Emmy’s shoulder. “Don’t move,” he whispered. “I’ll be back.”

Careful to not bump or jostle the rig, he eased himself out on the unlighted side and crawled around to Cuddy.

Cuddy lifted dazed eyes that cleared when he saw Diego. “Real nice to see you, amigo.”

Shushing him, Diego took his knife from the scabbard and cut him free. “Stay put unless I need you.”

Cuddy started to argue, but Diego wiggled his finger in his face. “Stay put.” He pointed under the wagon. “Keep an eye on Emmy.”

Diego darted into the darkness again. He circled the camp on the other side and slipped up on the weary-looking captives. Startled, the eldest started to cry out, but Diego covered his mouth. The man nodded and Diego removed his hand.

Severing the ropes that held them, Diego handed the knife to the younger man, who stood slowly, likely stiff from sitting so long. Smiling, Diego lifted his pistol and nodded at the knife in the man’s hand. Together they moved to stand behind the opening of the wagon.

“Come out,” Diego shouted. “We have a surprise for you.”

The flap flew back and the lanky boy made a run for it. The toe of the last boot to clear the canvas caught on the brake and he landed on his belly on the ground. He grunted as the air rushed out of him. Gasping like a landed trout, he rolled in the dirt at their feet.

Diego looked up and winked. “Well, that was easy.”

His companion held out his hand. “Benito Guerra. Over there is my uncle, Juan. We are much indebted to you, señor.”

Tipping his hat, Diego grinned. “It was nothing.” Tapping the sprawling young man with his foot, he winked at Benito. “Nothing at all.”

Catching his breath, the boy pushed to his feet.

Diego grasped him around the neck with his arm and held him steady. He began to wail like a branded calf. “Wayne! They got me!” He struggled against Diego. “Help me, Wayne!”

Cuddy limped up beside them. “I guess old Wayne ain’t coming, partner. Looks like he bailed out on you.” Cuddy’s face was a mass of cuts and purple bruises, but at least he was talking.

Diego thrust out his chin. “They thrashed you good. Are you all right?”

Cuddy rubbed his jaw. “Maybe not as pretty, but I’m awake now.”

“Señores!” Benito cried behind them. He stared at something outside the camp, his eyes glowing with terror. He pointed just as the acrid smell of smoke on the wind tickled Diego’s nostrils. “Fire, señores!”

Diego jerked around to look. Sparked by lightning, a wall of flames spread across the distant plain. Driven by the wind, it whipped closer every second. He gripped the back of Cuddy’s shirt. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

He handed Cuddy the gun and trotted to where he’d left Emmy huddled. Reeling away, he whirled in a tight circle, his eyes searching every corner of the campsite. “Emmy!” he shouted, so loudly his throat hurt.

Cuddy ran up beside him. “What’s wrong, brother?”

“It’s Emmy.” Molten fear layered the walls of Diego’s gut. “She’s gone.”

Little Pete’s prediction had proven true. They hadn’t outrun the storm. The wind blew so hard it felt as if the furious gusts racing along the plain lifted the wagon and hurtled it forward.

Magda cuddled on Willem’s shoulder, delighting in the feel of his arm around her. He didn’t have enough strength to tighten his hold, but he gave her frequent little pats, and each time her heart soared. She held his head steady with one hand on his cheek as they barreled along the road—she hoped to safety. She had just gotten her husband back and couldn’t lose him now.

Fickle about its choice of targets, the lightning struck on every side without warning, splitting the air with sharp cracks. Anxious, Magda sat up to see how Bertha fared. Sitting on the driver’s seat made her the highest point on the wagon and the most likely target, so Magda feared for her safety.

Small brush fires followed every strike, but the heavy sheet of rain coming behind them quenched the flames before they spread. Staring toward the approaching downpour, a ghastly sight caught Magda’s eye. A quivering dark wall surged toward them, not unlike a bank of floodwater or a wave on Galveston Beach. She rubbed her eyes in disbelief, but the apparition remained, still rolling right for them.

Magda pulled up on the backboard and screamed for Bertha, but the whistling of the wind was too shrill. Terror weakening her limbs, she managed to push to her feet and crawl over.

On the other side, she promptly slid off the seat, scrambling and clutching at anything to stop her from sailing off onto the ground. Catching her balance at the last second, she hurled herself toward the front, screaming for Bertha.

Bertha turned her head halfway, her eyes wide with surprise.

Magda fell to her knees, still clinging to Bertha’s seat. “Something’s behind us!” she shouted.

“What did you say?”

“Something’s chasing us. Something big!”

Bertha twisted to look. “I don’t see anything.”

“Keep looking.”

The sky lit up briefly, long enough for them both to get a good look.

“The cattle!” Bertha cried.

Up ahead, Little Pete held up his arm before hurtling down a lane to the left.

Magda nudged Bertha’s attention around to the front. “Go that way!”

A nervous glance to the rear revealed that the herd had just about caught up to them. Would they go around or blindly plow into the back, upsetting the speeding wagon? Cringing, she pictured them rolling, being crushed beneath the seat, Willem’s helpless body flying out.

Dear Jesus, help us!

“Hang on!” Bertha screeched and jerked the reins to the left.

Magda’s body slammed into the back of the seat she clung to, wrenching her wrists almost free of their sockets. Feeling herself losing her grip, they sailed in front of the thundering herd.

Diego pointed beneath the wagon. “I left her right there, Cuddy. I told her to stay put.” He glared, fingers of rage tickling his throat. “You were supposed to watch her.”

“Don’t worry, brother. We’ll find her.” Though he tried to sound calm, Cuddy’s gaze darted around the campsite.

Sensing the fire, the horses tied nearby became restless, whinnying and pawing the ground. Diego’s mind went to Faron and he groaned. He hoped the mesquite branch had held him. He’d need a fast horse to take Emmy out of danger once he found her.

Smoke swirled into camp, burning their eyes and causing their noses to stream. Juan approached from behind, a handkerchief over his mouth. “This is loco, señores. We must go!”

Diego squeezed Cuddy’s shoulder. “Take these men to safety. I’ll meet you at the ranch.”

Cuddy shook his head, a determined glint in his eyes. “Forget it. I’m not leaving you.”

“Do like I say, Cuddy.”

He held up his hand. “Not today, amigo.” The set of his jaw dared Diego to argue. “This is my fault. Besides, I care about her, too, don’t forget.”

Diego gave in with a pat to Cuddy’s back. “Let’s go, then. I’ll head right. You go left.”

Cuddy nodded.

Benito clutched his sleeve. “And me?”

Diego lifted his chin at Juan and Carl. “Get these men out of here. When you make it to town, hand Carl over to the authorities.”

The seasoned vaquero turned a steely glare on Carl, cowering on the ground. “Sí, señor.”

Cuddy bolted away from him and disappeared in the smoky mist.

Diego ran toward a cluster of brush along the fringes of the clearing and crouched, his eyes scanning the scrub for any sign of movement. Remembering Emmy’s warning that Wayne had a knife, he wished he’d mentioned it to Cuddy. He could hear the witless boy crashing through the brush, shouting Emmy’s name.

Diego made his way along the rim, keeping low and out of the smoke. The last time he’d checked the fire’s progress, it had been close enough to seize his heart with fear, yet he found himself grateful for the light it provided.

He searched deep into the thorny branches of baby mesquite, as thick as corn pudding, and watched for rustling of the high grass in front. With the roar of the fire in his ears, urgency to find her overwhelmed him. In desperation, he shot to his feet and cried her name.

Emmy rose from the smoke, her body outlined from behind by a backdrop of fiery flames. The orange glow lit her flowing white curls and they danced with reflected light.

“You will find what you seek in the fire, Isi.”

His mother’s words burned in his heart brighter than the blazing field behind Emmy. He ran to meet her and pulled her close to the ground. “Honey, what were you thinking?” He wanted to shake her, but she looked already shaken.

Her eyes enormous, she lifted her chin to stare toward the camp. “I heard that boy calling Wayne. I couldn’t bear to see him.”

The dread in her quavering voice clenched Diego’s stomach. He took in her bedraggled hair, her torn clothes, and her fear and felt a swirling agony so intense it left him dizzy. He wanted to charge the brush, guns blazing. Instead, he touched her cheek. “Stay low, sweetheart. I’ll get you out of here.”

She watched with a blank expression as he tore a length of cloth from her hem and covered her mouth. Clutching her wrist, he pulled her along the ground toward the campsite.

Diego called Cuddy’s name, and he ran out of the smoke to help with Emmy. Benito and Juan had taken her horse and the horse that pulled the wagon, leaving only Cuddy’s terrified gelding behind.

Diego nudged Cuddy’s ribs. “Mount up.”

“What about you two?”

“Just pray Faron’s still where I left him.”

Without waiting for an answer, he took Emmy’s hand and ran. Following his own advice, he prayed to God with all his might that he’d find the stallion standing next to the mesquite. With the lightning, the stampede, and the fire, it seemed too big a miracle to expect.

Snatching the lantern that still burned, Cuddy rode alongside them until they neared the spot where Diego had tied the horse. His heart sank when the light from the brush fire revealed that Faron was gone.

“Now what?” Cuddy shouted.

Diego pulled Emmy toward Cuddy’s horse. “Come on. I’ll help you up.”

She dug in her heels. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me. Just get on the horse.”

“No, Diego!”

He was about to pick her up and forcibly seat her behind Cuddy when he heard Faron’s unmistakable whinny and whirled toward the sound. Faron stood ten feet away, pawing the ground.

Asking a prayer of forgiveness for doubting God’s power, Diego slowly approached the big horse and took up the reins. Emmy ran to him and he helped her mount then jumped up behind her and gave Faron his head.

Driving the horses in a mad rush, they raced along in front of the fire. Diego heard the rain before the first fat drops landed on his back. Cuddy whooped beside him and Diego tossed his head back and laughed. A hundred yards past the pounding rain, Diego called to Cuddy and they stopped. Pulling Emmy off behind him, he held her trembling shoulders and stared at her face in the light from the waning fire. “Relax, honey. You’re safe now.”

She still peered past him with darting eyes, and rage seared his heart. He caressed her face, as gentle as he’d been with Faron. “Did those men hurt you, Emmy?”

Looking away from his searching gaze, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Quiet sobs shook her body. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“I asked you a question. Did they hurt you?” He gently pushed her to arm’s length. “Wayne hurt you, didn’t he?”

Covering her face, she shook her head. “Not the way you mean, but he will, Diego. He swore it.”

Relief flooded his chest. “I won’t let him.”

Quivering with fright, she jumped at the sound of distant thunder, her restless eyes straining at the dark. “You don’t know what he’s capable of. He’s evil.”

Diego took her arms and shook her. “Emmy, look at me. You have to know I’m prepared to defend you with my life.”

Her gaze swung to him. Spoken with passion she’d never witnessed, the words rang in her head like the Rawsons’ dinner gong. He’d said them once before, with less fervor, on the day they’d met. Gazing into the depths of his ardent brown eyes, she knew he spoke the truth.

Letting go of her fear, she relaxed against him. “Your life for my safety is not a trade I’m willing to make, but hearing it makes me feel better.”

The drenching rain was over as fast as it had come, leaving sodden ground at their feet and Emmy’s hair a streaming mass of soaking curls.

Breathless, Cuddy appeared with a blanket to wrap around her shoulders. Bending down, he relit the lantern and set it near her feet. “This might help chase away the ghosts, Emily, but you don’t have to fret about Wayne. I found him when I was looking for you.”

She tensed, and Diego gathered her to his chest. “Did he give you any trouble?”

Cuddy raised his brows. “Not a bit.” He angled his head behind them. “Lightning got him. Along with about ten cows.”

Trembling, Emmy covered her face. “Oh, no. Oh, Diego.”

He held her while she cried, her thoughts racing. Despite all Wayne had done—and what he’d tried to do—no one deserved to die without a chance to make things right with God.

Diego tilted her dripping face. “I’m sorry all this happened, Emmy, but there is good news.”

She could think of only one thing Diego would consider good news in the aftermath of such tragedy. Afraid to hope, her breath caught. “You found my parents?”

Smiling, he nodded. She fell against him, relief swelling her chest.

Cuddy’s shout echoed around them. “You found them?” He spun and slapped his leg. “I knew it! Where were they?”

Diego frowned. “Well, I—”

“I told you, didn’t I?” Cuddy continued. “The old man can’t pass up a good time.” He laughed rowdily. “¡Ay! Will he ever be in trouble with Mother! Death might’ve been better than facing her wrath.” He stood beaming foolishly at Diego.

Diego stared back with a drawn face.

Emmy nudged him. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

Diego nodded.

She steeled herself. “Tell us.”

Sadness filled his eyes. “We haven’t found your father, Cuddy.”

Cuddy sobered and sank to the ground beside them. “What do you mean you haven’t found him?”

“He’s still missing. No one knows where he is.”

Diego turned from Cuddy’s blanched face to Emmy. “And, honey ... I’m afraid your father’s been hurt.”

A sick look on his face, Diego told them a sketchy story of what had happened. His careful attempt to be vague scared her worse than any details he might provide.

“Please, Diego. I need to go see my papa.”

“Of course.”

He turned to hold the stirrup for her, but Cuddy caught the back of his shirt. “Wait. You can’t go. We haven’t found my father yet.”

Diego shook loose from his grip. “I haven’t given up on finding him, and I won’t. We’ll take Emmy to the ranch then get right back on the road.”

“No.” Cuddy gave his head a determined shake. “Uh, uh. It’s not going to be like that.” He glanced at Emmy. “Sorry, sugar, but they found your old man. Mine’s still out there somewhere, and I’m not going home without him.”

“Cuddy”—Diego pled with his eyes—“use your head. I don’t have to tell you how I feel about your father, but we don’t even know where to look until we question the women.”

“You just saw the women. You didn’t ask them anything?”

“Mrs. Bloom said they last saw him two days ago along the river to El Indio. He took off to find a doctor for Mr. Dane. They didn’t say if he was headed to Carrizo, El Indio, or back to Eagle Pass.” He frowned. “And no, I didn’t ask. About that time I had to come rescue you.”

“All right.” The betrayed look in Cuddy’s eyes broke Diego’s heart. “Do what you must, brother. If you care to find me, I’ll be searching along the Rio Grande.”

He spun on his heel, but Emmy grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back. She searched his face with compassionate eyes. “You need sleep, Cuddy. You could use a hot meal and a bath, but you’ve slept less than any of us.” She touched his swollen cheek. “Unless you count the little nap you took, which means you’re piling fatigue on top of injury.” She shook her head. “I don’t see how you’re still upright. You won’t do your father any good in this condition.”

Diego dropped his hand on Cuddy’s shoulder. “She’s right, amigo. It wouldn’t hurt to have the doctor take a look at you.”

The wet grass snuffed the last of the flames at their backs as Diego draped his arm around Cuddy’s neck and led him to his horse. “We’ll leave the ranch first thing tomorrow morning, fresh, fed, and bandaged. I give you my word we won’t stop looking until we find him.”

The wagon roared across the leading edge of the cattle, clearing the last wild-eyed Hereford by the width of a wispy hair.

Bertha let the horses run a little farther then pulled them to a stop in the middle of the lane as the danger rumbled past behind them.

Magda, soaking wet and huddled on bruised knees between the seats, hauled herself up and limped to peer in the bed. “Willem? Please be all right. I’m coming, dear.”

Feeling a bit like an Olympic hurdler, she bailed over the backboard again and crouched beside her husband. Drowsiness gave his eyelids a swollen, heavy look, but he feebly reached for her hand. Though the rain had let up, Magda dug for a canvas bag and held it over his head to shield him.

Little Pete trotted up to them, his eyes wide with fear. “Very sorry, señoras. I did not hear them coming with your rig at my back. Is anyone hurt?”

Bertha twisted on the seat. “How’s Willem?”

“He woke up. For a few minutes at least.”

Bertha laughed gleefully. “Is that so?”

“Yes, but I think he’s out again.” Magda gently probed Willem’s face. “At least he’s alive.”

“Pete, I don’t reckon we’re hurt any worse than we were,” Bertha said. “But thanks for asking.” She nodded in the direction the cattle had gone. “Will them critters be all right?”

He shrugged. “They’ll run out of steam eventually.”

Magda studied the sky. Once the front started moving, it had galloped through like a racehorse. The only flashes of light were sporadic bursts to the west. “One thing we can be grateful for, when they ran out of here they took the worst of the storm with them.”

Pete lit a sputtering match, his face tight with concern in the flickering light. “If you want, I can take you to my friend now.”

“No, thanks,” Magda called out. “I want to get my husband to a doctor.”

“I agree,” Bertha said, her head bobbing. “As long as we don’t meet up with them Herefords coming back the other way.”

“Very well,” Pete said, backing his horse. “Turn the rig around, and I’ll take you to the ranch.”

Bertha goaded the weary horses into a tight circle. Back on the lane, they headed for the road. As they plodded into the turn, a sharp whistle came from behind them.

Pete returned the signal then gave a low laugh. “It’s Diego.”

Magda rose up on her knees and put her hands around her mouth. “Emily Bertha Dane!”

Silence followed. Then a voice tight with emotion carried on the brisk wind. “Mama! Is that you?”

“It’s me, baby!”

“Don’t you move! I’m coming!”