Summer Moon (20 page)

32

There were still a few good hours of the clear, sunny Sunday afternoon remaining as Kate and Daniel leaned against the horse corral watching a pinto filly run toward them.

A few days before, Scrappy had introduced Daniel to the leggy little foal and now, every time they went for a walk, Kate made certain she had sugar lumps, a carrot, or an apple in her pocket to lure the horse over to them.

Resting her arms over the rail, Kate watched Daniel’s slight smile as he fed the young pinto.

“You have a good friend there, Daniel, but she’s a greedy little girl, that’s for certain.” Kate sighed and watched the boy prop his crutch on the fence rail and slowly climb to the top, where he could sit and watch the filly gambol around the corral.

Kate instinctively stepped behind him, tempted to hang on to the back of his shirt lest he topple off the fence. Despite his injury, he was incredibly agile, but she stayed behind him just in case.

“Quite a surprise we had today.” She had grown used to carrying on one-sided conversations. She had no idea whether or not Daniel was surprised, but she had certainly felt the ground drop out from under her when she saw Reed standing in the parlor.

Reed had told her in the dining room that he had come back because his heart wasn’t in rangering anymore. He planned to stay on, even meet with the foremen, and he fully intended to run Lone Star now that his father was gone. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not.

Daniel held out his hand and made kissing sounds as he tried to lure the filly back to the fence. Kate smiled.

“No matter what he said, I think he really came back because of you,” she said, thinking out loud. “He would never admit it, even to himself. But just you wait and see. I’m sure that before long, you and he will be doing lots of things together. He is going to see what a wonderful boy you really are, just the way I do.”

Daniel was already climbing down again, so Kate stepped back. He picked up his crutch and, wielding it deftly, hurried around to the other side of the corral where the filly was rubbing her head against the rail.

Kate followed slowly, watching him closely, at the same time thinking of the picture of Becky. Knowing how it had upset Daniel, she kept the photograph hidden in her dresser drawer. Since then, she had not tried to force him to remember his past, but she was still torn, hoping that she was doing right by him.

Raising a child, especially one injured in spirit, was a far cry from educating one. She had no books to help her, no mentor, and certainly no memories of a loving mother. Meg Whittington had been far from a glowing example of motherhood. The nuns, although firm and fair, had never done the little things Kate had sometimes seen other mothers do: cuddle and kiss and tease, dry tears, give praise.

She wanted all those things for Daniel, but was it fair to lavish love on him, knowing that her time here depended on Reed and on what he wanted for the boy?

What would
Becky
have wanted for her son? What advice would she give if she were here?

See to him as if he were your own. Make sure he is
happy and healthy. Teach him to laugh again. Love my
boy, my baby. Please. That’s all I ask.

She had no idea if the words echoing in her heart were her own or Becky’s. All she knew for certain was that she already cared deeply for the boy.

What would happen to him if she left?

By now Daniel had lost interest in the filly and was walking with his head down, searching the dirt—a pastime he seemed to thoroughly enjoy, especially when he found something for her, like a pretty rock, an iron nail, or some other treasure.

She wanted to come up with ways to get Reed and Daniel to know each other again. She had no idea how she was going to do it, but she was bound and determined to have Reed spend time alone with the boy.

Inside, Reed finished his meal and thanked Charm.

“Kate and Daniel are out by the corral. He sure loves horses.” She took his plate and deftly shoved it in the dishpan and soaped it off.

Of course he does,
Reed thought. A Comanche lived his life on the back of his horse. Entire villages were moved by horse travois. Boys learned to ride as soon as they could walk. Horses were trained to hunt. The animal was a symbol of Comanche wealth, live currency that bought brides and settled debts. Some warriors acquired vast herds.

Charm was watching Kate and the boy through the window over the dry sink. He thanked her again, complimented her cooking, and walked out of the kitchen. Unobserved, he sat on the veranda rail and watched.

Kate appeared to be talking to the boy, stubbornly refusing to give up on him. He watched her stand protectively behind Daniel as he climbed the fence rails, saw her reach up and smooth out the wrinkles on the back of his shirt.

She was good for him, no doubt about that. There was something in Kate, perhaps her gentleness and patience, that were traits Becky never possessed. Becky had been incredibly selfish, maybe even incapable of loving anyone but herself.

He had discovered that shortly after they were married. She had been beautiful, outgoing, and an incorrigible flirt. He had loved her the moment he saw her. Once they were married she had him heart and soul, but she never had the life that she thought the Benton wealth should have afforded her.

Back then, he had been naive enough to think that if he could get her away from all the trappings and things his father’s money could buy, that she would love him for himself.

He saw the old dog-run homestead cabin on the edge of the ranch as a private place, a romantic, rustic spot where the three of them could really become a family.

Becky saw it as a run-down shack. A trap. She thought he was punishing her by depriving her of all she ever wanted.

It was hard to admit that his father had been right about her. She had never really loved him at all. She had loved the Benton money, the vast holdings, her status in town as a Benton’s wife.

Reed watched Kate help Daniel down. When she turned away, the boy continued to watch her. Reed couldn’t help but notice that Daniel watched Kate with something more than respect in his eyes. There was acceptance, perhaps even a bit of admiration there, too. Daniel was starting to care for Kate. There was definitely a bond between them now.

Kate had made so much progress with Daniel that Reed was moved. He stood up, walked over to the stairs. Beneath the shade of the overhang, he watched as they walked around the corral.

What if Kate suddenly took it in her head to leave? There was absolutely nothing to stop her. The papers Jeb Cooley had drawn up were in his saddlebag. Legal documents that, once signed by both of them and filed, would render the forged marriage license null and void.

They would both be free. Sooner or later Kate would recover from the shock of his father’s deception. Sooner or later she would want a life of her own.

Hell, maybe she was already dreaming about marrying the damn minister.

Could the old man have been right about Kate? Had his father somehow sensed that she would be good for Lone Star? She would make any man a good wife. Was she the right mother for Daniel?

The boy bent over and picked up something small from the dry ground and handed it to Kate. She held it in the palm of her hand and studied it carefully. They stood there for a time, heads together, looking at whatever it was.

Reed could almost hear Kate lavishing compliments on Daniel. The exchange surprised Reed more than anything he had seen yet today. For Daniel to share a gift with Kate, no matter how insignificant, was a great step.

Maybe she will consider staying on permanently.

Maybe the marriage does not have to be dissolved.

For Daniel’s sake, maybe we should stay wed—in
name only.

Shaken by his train of thought, Reed dragged his fingers through his hair. He was in worse shape than he figured if he was even
considering
the possibility.

As he watched Kate and Daniel walk back to the house, he knew that she would be an easy woman to love, if he let himself. He wanted her on a physical level, for she was lovely and definitely moved him in that way. She was also warm and sensitive, and as she had said herself, loyal. But she had been hurt and embarrassed by what had happened between them. Was she willing? It was hard to say.

Even if she was, he didn’t know if he could put his past behind him. All he had to do was think of Becky, of all the ways he had tried to make her happy and how he had failed, of her betrayal, and he was pretty damn sure that he never wanted to take a chance on love again.

But as Kate walked across the open area behind the house, as he watched the graceful, easy sway of her hips and heard the low, provocative sound of her voice, his attraction to her made contemplating a closer relationship with Kate very, very tempting.

The boy was the first to notice him and stopped immediately in his tracks. His gaze locked on Reed’s guns.

Kate touched Daniel lightly on the shoulder, urged him toward the house. When he balked, she looked up. Her eyes met Reed’s, and his hand tightened on the porch rail.

After a noticeable pause, she took Daniel’s hand and led him forward as if there was nothing wrong, but the look on the boy’s face, his hesitance to approach, told Reed there was still no love lost there.

Once they crossed the porch, Kate opened the door for Daniel, took his chin in her hand and forced him to look at her. She leaned close and spoke slowly.

“Go inside, and Charm will give you some cookies.”

She made certain her voice carried to the kitchen where Charm was still working. The girl immediately came to the door, smiled in assurance, and Kate knew without exchanging a word that Charm would look after Daniel.

Reed began to wonder if his sudden return would upset the applecart. Things seemed to be running smoothly enough without him.

Kate lingered instead of going back inside. Reed was glad. “Does he understand you?” He stepped back, leaned a hip against the rail again, and settled his weight. Despite his attraction, she had a calming effect on him.

“I think so. I believe he’s just too willful to speak.”

“Why haven’t you cut his hair yet?”

She looked startled at the suggestion. “Because it’s all he has left of his old life. We’ve taken away the rest. You can’t imagine what that’s like.” There was a deep abiding sadness in her voice.

He could tell her thoughts were drifting back to her past, the life he had read about in her letters.

. . . abandoned on the steps of an orphans’ home . . .

He did not remind her that he, too, knew what it was like to have his life snatched away in an instant, to have to go on. His life had been taken from him one night beneath a Comanche moon.

He looked down at the new dress she was wearing, the fabric covered with the tiniest of printed flowers. It wasn’t fancy, but it fit her well, outlined her curves and hollows and was an improvement over the worn, somber, spinster’s garb.

“What about you, Kate? Do you miss your old life?”

She tilted her head, stared at the corral, deciding. “Sometimes I do. I miss the girls. I miss the cold. And the forest behind the orphanage. Things seem much closer there, the buildings, the streets, the trees are all gathered together. It was almost as if nature held everything together. And I miss the sea.” She looked beyond the veranda, toward the horizon. “I’ve never seen such wide open sky before as here, and there weren’t these winds to contend with, either. Texas makes me feel . . . lonely, I guess.” She shrugged. “Alone against the elements.”

“Some folks go crazy out here. The wind and the loneliness drives them right out of their heads.”

She smiled. “I’m not going out of my head,” she assured him. “I just miss the East sometimes.”

He moved away from the rail. Took a step closer. “Are you really lonely, Kate?”

Their eyes met. She looked thoughtful for a moment, and then a wistful smile tipped the corners of her mouth. “Sometimes, but I don’t know why. Charm is wonderful company, and there’s Daniel, too.”

Another step, and he was close enough to touch her. “People need more than friendships, Kate.” He spoke softly, so that only she could hear him. “That’s only natural.”

He watched the tip of her tongue slide across her full lower lip as she contemplated his words. Small lines appeared between her eyebrows as she stared back at him, frowning. “Is it?” she whispered.

“Is it what?”

“Natural. To want more.”

He could see the idea disturbed her. She had, after all, been raised by celibate women.

“Yes.” He was tempted to show her how natural it was, tempted to cup her jaw, turn her face up to his, and taste her soft, full lips. Instead, he made himself step back, walk over to the rail, and look out over the land until he’d gotten control of his emotions again.

When he turned back around, she was rubbing her thumb over something she held in her hand.

“What’s that Daniel found for you?”

“Were you watching?”

“Yeah.”

She smiled again, a small triumphant smile, and opened her palm. “It’s an arrowhead.”

She handed it to him. A pointed obsidian flint glittered in his hand.

“The ground is full of them,” he said.

“We find something new almost every day. Daniel has taught me so much.”

“Without talking?”

“People don’t need words to share what’s in their hearts.”

He shrugged. “I guess not.”

“I can see what’s in yours, Reed. It’s reflected in your eyes.”

“And what is that, Kate?” If she could really read his mind, she would be blushing ten shades of red.

“You wish that you could do more than stand in the shadows and watch your son. You would like to know how to talk to him, what to say to help him realize that he is home. That he is safe. That you don’t intend to lose him again. You want to start over.”