Mary Connealy (107 page)

Susannah hollered, “Pick me up, Papa!”

“We’ve been to the Tanner Ranch.”

“Harden, Red.”

“Right, right. Sorry.” Red nodded. “The Hardens have visited us here. I went hunting for Wade. Then later I had to track down the rustlers. I took the herd to Divide. We went in for church. Why, we’ve been gone more than we’ve been home. Good thing we got the roundup done early. I can’t believe the Sawyers are just now finished.” Red shook his head as if it was incomprehensible.

Cassie had felt sorry for Wade with the roundup still ahead of him. He hadn’t been home, so it wasn’t his fault, but none of the other ranchers would see it that way. “I didn’t get to go with you to hunt for Wade.”

“You were with Belle. I thought you liked Belle.” Red swiped a bit of drool off Michael’s chin with his shirtsleeve. Michael, content on Cassie’s hip, swatted at his papa and giggled.

“I didn’t get to go hunt the rustlers with you.”

Red gave her a very dry look. “You’re saying you
wanted
to be part of the posse?”

It was all Cassie could do to maintain her pout. She was really crazy in love with her husband. “I’m just saying you feel like you’ve been out and about a lot, but I haven’t been. I want to go see Belle. A woman with a baby on the way needs the company of other women from time to time.”

She stamped her foot and almost felt ashamed of herself. Reminding Red of the coming baby was very dastardly of her. He was so excited about it and so kind to her. She could barely lift a finger around the barnyard these days.

Susannah stamped her little foot and giggled.

The reminder about the baby he’d had to tell Cassie about earned her a very long, sweet kiss. The man was a marvel the way he figured out a baby was coming.

“I’m wondering which of us this’n’ll look like. We’ve got a matched set now. Maybe we’ll have a redheaded little girl or a dark-haired boy. I can’t wait, no matter which it is.” He kissed her again until Michael started trying to poke his little fingers between their lips.

“I can’t wait either, Red. And I want to tell Belle about it.”

“She probably knows.”

Jerking back from him, Cassie narrowed her eyes. “How would she know?”

“I told Silas.”

“Before you told me?” Cassie felt herself blush. How
had
Red figured it out?

Red just laughed in her face. “Yep, and he probably mentioned it to Belle.”

She really did need to wheedle his secret out of him. The symptoms she knew of—a round belly and lots of kicking—came quite late.

“Red, I insist we go see Belle. I want to visit with her, and I’m not letting up until we do things my way. Especially now that I’m carrying your child.” Cassie fluttered her eyelids a bit and rested one hand on her flat stomach. She’d win now. Red was just too sweet; he wouldn’t be able to resist giving in.

“Nope. We can’t. I’ve got too many chores.”

Cassie’s mouth fell open.

Red hung the last pot on the hook beside the kitchen sink then set his dish towel aside and used one finger to push up on her chin to close her mouth. “And that’s final.”

Michael grabbed at his finger.

“Pick me up, Papa!” Susannah put both her tiny feet on his big boot and started bouncing up and down.

Red swooped Susannah into his arms and lifted her to the ceiling.

We’ll see about final.
Cassie narrowed her eyes and considered which of her womanly wiles to use on her husband to get her way.

Before she could bring out her arsenal, Red tucked Susannah onto his hip. Then he plucked Michael out of her arms, bent over, and kissed her with a low smack on the lips. “How about next week? Give me that long to catch up on a few things, move the herd to better pastures, and clear the deadfalls out of the spreader dam. I’ll get the Jessups to ride herd and we’ll go and stay awhile so you can work with Belle and get all your female talkin’ out.”

Cassie grinned until she thought she might laugh out loud. “Next week would be fine, Red.” She said it in her best submissive wife voice. The one Red loved.

“You’re such a good, obedient little wife.” He kissed her again as a reward. As if he didn’t realize she’d gotten her way, as usual. “I love it when you pout, honey,” Red whispered.

Startled, Cassie pulled back and glared at him.

He laughed and turned away, bouncing the children around the room, singing a silly, lilting Irish song about wearing green, while Cassie contemplated whether she was controlling her husband or he was controlling her.

Since it didn’t matter, and she was going to see Belle regardless, she didn’t contemplate it too long before she snatched Susannah away from him and joined in their play.

Sid pushed the men hard to get back.

Boog had seemed to be completely well, but he was pale and tight-lipped by the time they got back to the derelict Griffin house. Harv was practically asleep in his saddle.

Sid and Paddy decided to split up so no one would connect them. Paddy would ride in first, then Sid. Boog and Harv would stay away for one more week.

As long as that girl was alive, she could recognize Harv. Maybe without the beard he could get by, but Sid wasn’t going to risk it. And if Red Dawson had a reason to come to the ranch, it would all be over.

The trail from the Flathead valley back to the M Bar S was brutal. It should have taken two days to cover, but Sid didn’t want the men to make note of his absence. Lots of the hands had taken off for the day, with Wade announcing Sundays would be for rest from now on.

As Sid hitched his horse at the old Griffin place in the early hours of Monday morning, he felt the whole weight of the long weekend. First pulling Harv out of jail, then riding for the high valley, and now coming home. And all for nothing. They had to leave the gold behind. He ached until it felt like someone had taken a club to him.

He gave Paddy fifteen minutes to get to the ranch well ahead of him. Sid would barely beat the sunrise home. He stood watching Boog and Harv unsaddle their horses as Paddy rode off toward his bunk.

“We’ve got to finish this.” Sid got out the makings for a cigarette.

Boog lifted his saddle off his gelding’s back. “Yep. Someone’s gonna identify Harv sooner or later.”

“We’ll do it this week,” Sid said as he dumped the tobacco and rolled the fine paper, counting down the time until he could head back.

“Let’s hit ’em all at once.” Harv rubbed his chin. Sid could see his hunger for revenge against the wild woman. “We tried to make it look like an accident before, but why bother trying that again? With that woman dead—the only one who saw me—no one will be able to prove we had a hand in the killing.”

“A lot of the hands rode off to town yesterday morning.” Sid remembered the exodus when he’d gone in to get Paddy. “They went to church with Wade. That leaves Mort home alone with only his housekeeper. He’s vulnerable then. We can do it next Sunday.”

“Then we’ll waylay Wade and the woman on the trail. Finish it in one stroke.” Harv pulled the bridle off his horse and swatted his rump. The horse trotted away with a thud of hooves on grass in the small corral Mort kept up at the Griffin place.

“But let’s keep our eyes open this week,” Boog said as he rubbed hands full of grass on his gelding’s sweat-soaked side. “If we have a chance, catch one of them out alone, we’ll take it, thin the herd a little.”

Harv snorted. “Herd? A cripple, a woman, and a coward. No herd to thin there. I’d like to keep that woman alive for a while, though. If I caught her out alone—” A chuckle broke up his big talk.

Sid drew on his cigarette. Harv always talked big, when he wasn’t whining. He was a weak link in every job they pulled. If he hadn’t grabbed that girl to begin with, no one would be able to identify him now. Harv wouldn’t have cuts as good as shouting his identity. Sid did his best not to glare at the fool. He mentally repeated that Harv held the secret to a hidden shipment of gold that had been lost in that valley.

Even with the gold in mind, Sid was afraid of what he’d say. Deciding he’d given Paddy enough time, Sid tossed his cigarette butt on the ground, climbed into the saddle and spurred his weary horse toward the ranch. No roundup to face this morning. Maybe he could steal a few hours of sleep.

He’d stolen a lot bigger things in his life and paid no price.

I
t almost pained Abby to admit it, but Mort was trying.

It was almost killing him. Watching Mort try to be nice was funny. He quit most of his barking. Not all, but Abby didn’t say anything about the times he snapped at her and Gertie. And he was doing really well with Wade.

They sat at the table enjoying a fairly civilized supper of fried chicken. It was delicious, but Abby missed the smoky taste of a wild bird cooked over an open fire. Turning the spit was one of the first jobs she’d been allowed when she lived with her Flathead family.

Mort sat eating as if he were starved. He’d regained some muscle in his arms from rolling his chair around, and he spent enough time outside these days that he had lost that sickly pallor.

Wade always discussed the ranch thoroughly with his pa, and Mort seemed hungry for details about the preparation for the cattle drive and how the hands were doing. Wade listened to Mort’s opinions, too, and seemed to respect his father’s ranching skills.

When the daily report was finished as well as the evening meal, Abby reached for Mort’s plate to stack it with the others for washing, but his words stopped her.

“Have I been doing well enough to suit you, Wade?” Mort turned to his son.

Abby let her hand sink back to her lap, afraid Mort might be getting ready to snap. She’d seen the uncertain hold he had on his temper at times.

“It’s been a good week, Pa. I hope I’ve been doing well enough to suit you, too.”

“You’re running things right. I can see that. Or hear it at least. I can’t get out like I’d like to. I know, from this week of watching…well, I’d like to say…to say …” Mort gave Abby a leery look.

There’d been a couple of times when, if Abby had wanted to, she could have tossed the last kerosene on the fire and burned up this family. She knew Mort feared she’d mention that now. But she had no wish to break the family apart. If that happened, it wouldn’t be because of her. She’d leave alone before she left with Wade and bad feelings.

“I can—well, it’s been hard. Harder than I’ve ever imagined. And—what you said about my own pa awhile back, I can see now how my ma protected me from him. He was angry all the time, but Ma could handle him. I saw her take his anger on herself when he’d come home mad. She’d always shoo me away. I know he hit her. I think—” Mort fell silent. “I’m sorry. I can’t promise I’ll never lose my temper again. But I’m going to try.” Mort refused to meet anyone’s eyes as he quietly rolled himself out of the room.

Wade stared after him, a longing in his eyes that Abby’s heart hurt to see.

“Go after him,” she whispered.

Wade looked up, hopeful and scared. “Should I?”

She nodded, feeling like she might be sending Wade away from her by encouraging him to choose to draw closer to his father. “He may be ready to talk for the first time in your life. Don’t miss it.”

Wade turned and smiled at her. “You’re right.” He came around the table and kissed her, a hard, fast smack. “And I
am
going to marry you.” He hurried after his father, following him into Mort’s converted bedroom.

Abby and Gertie looked at each other in wonder. Then Gertie pressed a shushing finger to her lips, and they eavesdropped shamelessly while they cleaned the kitchen.

Wade watched his father swing himself from his wheelchair into an overstuffed leather chair that he’d always used behind his desk. It was huge and comfortable. Wade had liked sneaking in here to sit in it when he was little. Until the time he’d been caught.

Pa knew how to teach a lesson.

“You’re getting good at that, Pa.”

Pa looked up, startled. Then he leaned back and stared down at his useless legs. “You really think I can live ten more years like this?”

Wade shrugged. “Or twenty. I don’t see why not. You seem healthy enough to me.”