Mary Connealy (84 page)

Wade reached out his hand. “Come here. Meet my father.” Abby snorted, not quietly either.

“Who’s she?”

Wade turned to see his father now watching Abby.

“Her family is dead. She needed somewhere to go. I told her she could stay here, work with Gertie.” “Now I’m running an orphanage?”

“No, you’re hurt. Caring for you is more than one person can do. Gertie, you can use some help around here, right?”

Gertie grunted as she tugged on a sheet. “I’ve told you how things are going to the dogs around here, Mort. I’ve got all I can do to carry food up and down these stairs. I’m not getting my cleaning done in the rest of the house, and I can barely keep up with the laundry. I haven’t planted a bit of the garden yet, and we’ll be pinched for food this winter if I don’t get something done. Having help will keep the rest of the house from going to wrack and ruin.”

She’d always had a way with Pa that Wade couldn’t understand. She didn’t seem to mind his rages, his insults. She’d just soldier on, do what was asked and then some. How many times had she diverted Pa’s temper and given Wade a chance to scoot into some hiding place? Then she’d come and find him and tell him to come on out. It was safe. She’d come after Wade’s mother had died, and Gertie had been a mother to him in every way but blood. Of course, many times she hadn’t been able to divert Pa’s fury. Then she’d come and find Wade and bandage his wounds.

“I’ll be dead by next winter anyway.”

Abby made the rude noise again.

Pa turned his attention to her. “You got something to say, girl?”

“Wade told me you were a tyrant. I’m not afraid of a strong man. My father was strong. But Wade was wrong. I come here and see a man whining.”

“Abby.” Wade stepped to her side.

She tilted her nose up at Pa. “I see self-pity and stupidity. Your son comes home with an offer to help and you insult him. Your woman waits on you hand and foot and you snap at her like a yellow dog.”

“She’s not my woman.”

Odd that Pa would think to object to that.

“I will stay here because Wade has asked me to, but I work for a fool and a weakling. Better I should tend a crying child than a man such as you.”

“A weakling!” Pa punched the bed.

Flinching from the raised voice, Wade stepped closer to Abby.

“Yes, a weakling. A man in my tribe once lost the use of his legs and he dragged himself around the camp working, helping to skin deer, prepare the food. He knew it was better to work with the women than to not work at all. He refused to be lazy and worthless like you.”

Gertie gasped.

Wade braced himself.

Pa’s face turned a shade of purple Wade hadn’t ever seen on a human being before. “You get over here, you spiteful little shrew. I’ll show you worthless.” Pa sat forward as if he planned to throw himself at Abby.

She laughed. “Come and get me, old man.” She turned to Gertie. “Why is he in bed all day like an infant?”

Pa threw aside his blankets and used his arms to swing his legs around. They dropped, lifeless, bending at the knees. Before he fell out of bed, he stopped and looked at his legs.

Silence iced over the room.

Pa stared as he ran his hands up and down his withered legs.

Tension wrapped like fingers around Wade’s neck. He glanced at Abby, every inch Glowing Sun right now, her arms crossed, her eyes too wild and fierce for a lady. But so brave. And honest, too. Wade felt his spine strengthen as if he drew courage straight from her.

At last Pa looked up, straight at Abby. “Get out of my room. Get out of my house.”

“A man’s house is only his if he can hold it. I have a job here and I’ll keep it unless
you
actually throw me out. But I will gladly leave your presence.” Abby whirled and left the room.

Wade stared after her then turned back to his father, his spine working better than usual. “I hired her. She stays.” He marched out, too.

When he’d prayed to God,
“Whom shall I fear?”
it never occurred to him that God might bring someone into his life who could give him lessons. Or who could be even more fearful than Pa.

“It’s that wild woman.” Paddy ran into the bunkhouse.

Sid looked up from the saddle he was mending. “What wild woman?” But Sid only knew of one wild woman.

“The one Harv tried to take. She’s dressed in gingham now and her hair’s tied back neat, but it’s her. I just saw her go into the house with a man.”

“What man? The one who shot Boog?”

Boog had come riding into the ranch with them, not showing a single sign of weakness. He’d made his excuses then ridden out again, heading for a line shack to spell the men who kept watch over that far corner of the M Bar S. In truth, he was going out there to heal. But if that wild white-haired woman was here, she’d recognize Harv for sure.

Harv lay stretched out on his bunk. They’d made up an excuse about rustlers and Harv getting the worst in a knife fight. Everyone here at the M Bar S was too stupid to know the only rustlers around were Sid and his gang.

This woman could ruin everything. “We’ll lay low awhile. Harv’s the only one they saw, and Boog with that gunshot might have given ’em a clue. But I can just walk right in that ranch house and give Mort the report like always. It’ll look wrong if I don’t.”

“But how long can Harv stay hidden?” Paddy glanced nervously at Harv.

Sid forced himself to think about the gold. Harv was starting to be a burr under Sid’s saddle. Only that treasure kept Harv alive.

“I’ll have to tell Mort about the rustlers. Then Harv’ll have an excuse to stay in the bunkhouse. Maybe the woman and man are just passin’ through. They’ll stay the night and move on. We’re not doing anything to tip our hand.”

“And what if she doesn’t move on?” Paddy hissed. “You know she’s gotta die sometime. She can’t be around Divide, let alone the M Bar S.”

“Well, we know how to stage a fall off a horse, don’t we? When we did it before, no one suspected a thing, not even Mort.”

Paddy smiled. Then he giggled and plunked himself down on his cot. “We do know sure enough. This time, I’ll come in after just to make sure she’s dead. I shoulda never left Mort lying there alive. I heard a wolf pack and figured he wouldn’t last the night. I didn’t want anyone seeing a bullet hole in him.”

“You’re the man we want to dry-gulch a woman, Paddy.” Sid didn’t even try to hide his contempt. Paddy had his uses. There was nothing too low for the man. Nothing too dirty. He enjoyed watching people die. He’d especially enjoy killing a woman, and Sid knew he’d done it before.

Paddy didn’t even react to words that would have made Boog draw his gun. Well, Paddy did react. He grinned and started humming an Irish jig.

Sid was tempted to draw his own gun.

S
o then I got a hoof right in the belly.”

Cassie had talked every second since Red had come in for dinner. She hadn’t scolded him yet, but he’d earned the sharp side of her tongue several times since they’d left Silas and Belle’s. He remembered how quiet she’d been when they were first married. How careful to be obedient.

Those were the good old days.

After a week with Belle, Red’s wife was now just looking for an excuse to yell at him.

It was all Red could do not to be ornery, just to let Cassie have her fun. Honestly, it was all pretty lightweight as far as bossiness went. His sweet little wife just didn’t have a mean bone in her body.

Cassie gently wiped mashed potatoes off Susannah’s face, wrinkling her nose to get the toddler to smile.

Red had added onto their little soddy, made a log house about three times the size of the first cabin. Of course three times the size was still about half the size of a normal home. They still used a cave as their bedroom and a second, smaller cave with a chilly spring running through it for a cold cellar.

“You think we need to make the house bigger, Cass honey? Does the baby keep you awake at night?” Red took the cloth from Cassie. “Here, let me do that. You’ve got your hands full. We could add on a bedroom like we did for Susannah and move him just that little bit farther away from us if you’re tired. I wake up faster’n you at night, and I’d be able to go cheer him up most of the time.”

Cassie finished with Susannah then looked at the wriggling little boy in Red’s lap with a fond smile. “He is a terror, isn’t he? Why will the child not sleep through the night?” She ran her hand over Michael’s curls and Red felt as if she were touching him. She’d been so thrilled when the little boy had his daddy’s hair.

Between her cute, newfound toughness and the way she touched little Michael, Red hated to ruin the moment. But he respected her enough to be honest. “Cassie, I’ve waited until we’re about done eating to tell you something important.”

His Cassie had a sensitive soul. She looked up straight into his eyes, knowing this was serious. “What is it?”

Red turned Michael against his chest so he could pat a burp out of him, also to stall a few seconds. He wished so much he could smooth out all of life’s bumps for his wife and family. “I’ve…I’ve got cattle missing. Someone from the Jessup ranch stopped in every day while we were gone to do chores and check the herd. Walt, the Jessup foreman, came by this morning, not knowing we’d gotten back. He told me he found a carcass that had been butchered right on the range. Well, a cow can wander off, but Walt thinks several head are missing. It’ll take awhile to run a tally, but Walt’s a mighty knowing man. If he says he’s worried, then I’m worried, too.”

A line formed between Cassie’s pretty, dark brown eyes. Red regretted laying any trouble on her, but she needed to know. “I’ll do some tracking and hopefully pick up a trail and get to the bottom of it. But you need to be on guard.” Then Red thought of a way he could maybe cheer her up. “You’d better always keep that blade Belle gave you close to hand.”

Cassie sat up straighter as if almost hoping she’d get a chance at having a knife fight with a rustler.

Red wished he could have a long, cranky talk with Belle Tanner…Harden…for putting ideas in Cassie’s head. The woman was trouble and that was a fact. Silas had his hands plumb full, and yet he seemed to be a happy man. Which Red wouldn’t be if he tussled with Belle. The woman was tougher than a full-grown longhorn and twice as dangerous.

Then he thought of Wade and Abby. The way she’d stabbed that rattler then planned to eat it. Abby had also saved Cassie and Susannah.

The West bred women tough, and his wife was learning to protect herself. No matter how much Red tried never to leave her in jeopardy, he couldn’t be at her side every minute of every day. But even if she wasn’t as tough as Belle and Abby, well, he couldn’t help thinking that, when it came to women, he’d gotten the best end of the deal.

Red stood up and, with no wasted motion, plunked Michael onto the floor then swept Cassie up and sat back down.

She giggled. “Red, what are you doing?”

Red reached out and loosened the towel that kept Susannah secure in her chair then set her on the floor so she wouldn’t fall. Leaving Red free to kiss his sweet little wife thoroughly.

“I’m just letting you know I think I’m the luckiest man who ever lived.” He gave silent thanks to God that he’d gotten the best of the three women and made sure Cassie knew he felt that way by the strength of his arms and the depth of his kisses.

He only quit kissing his pretty wife when Susannah’s slaps on his knee and shouts of “Papa!” got his attention. He wondered how long the little girl had been whacking at him.

Cassie stood; then her knees sagged and Red supported her until she could support herself. When he was sure she was steady, he plunked Michael into Cassie’s arms and lifted a fussy Susannah high over his head. She giggled as he hugged her tight and scratched her chubby neck with his whiskered cheeks.

“You know what I think we oughta do, Cass honey?”

She had that wide-eyed obedient look that Red had come to cherish because he saw it so rarely these days. “What, Red?”

“I think while we’ve still got a little daylight left, we oughta go practice throwing that knife of yours. I think you could teach me a few things.”

Cassie’s obedience faded to something much warmer and livelier. She threw her one free arm around his neck, and even with both young’uns between them, they managed to while away so much time there wasn’t enough light to get any serious practice in before bedtime.

Red was just fading off to sleep when Michael woke. They’d moved his crib temporarily to the kitchen. His howl for attention was the first of what would most likely be four times through the night.

Red went to cajole the fussing baby.

He heard Cassie mumble as she dozed off, “I think another room for our son is a good idea.”