Sweetwater (46 page)

“Come home, love! Send me a wire. I’ll come as far as Chicago, meet you and the girls and we’ll see the town.

“Tululla and Sandy are staying at the house. They will take care of things until you get here. You’ll have to decide if you’ll stay in Allentown or bring the girls and come back to Baltimore.

“That’s the good news. The bad news is that Charles has stolen several thousand dollars of the girls’ inheritance. Charges can be filed against him. I don’t advise it at this time. He is leaving the country and fear of the charges will keep him from returning. You are rid of them, love. Come home.”

Jenny folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. She failed to see the look of concern on Trell’s face.

“I can’t wait to tell Cassandra and Beatrice. Isn’t it wonderful? Never in my wildest dreams did I think it would end like this. I’ll put the two thousand dollars in the girls’ inheritance to make up for their loss. It’s worth it to be rid of Charles. I wanted to keep the girls away until they grew up. I explained to Cass that their money might all be gone. She didn’t care … and Beatrice didn’t understand. It turned out far better than I hoped.

“Oh, I want to tell you about my other letter, then get a letter ready to send to Forest City when Mr. McGriff returns. I’ll send a wire, too, but also a more detailed letter.”

Jenny leaned over and kissed Trell on the lips.

“Isn’t it grand?” she whispered, then straightened and looked down into his still, troubled face. “Trell?”

“Yes, honey. It’s grand.” His hand reached for hers and held it in a tight grip. “I’m glad for you and the girls.”

“You … don’t act like you’re glad.” A frown wrinkled her brow.

“I’m a selfish man! I’m thinking only of myself.”

“What are you thinking?” Then, as if a light had been turned on in her head, “You think that I’ll go! That I’ll not stay here now that I’m free to take the girls and go back East. Oh, Trell. How could you think that?”

“Whoa, now. You have a responsibility to the girls. I’ll not stand in the way of you taking them home, and I’ll not blame you—”

“Home? This is
my
home. I have a responsibility to myself and to you. I deserve to be happy. I can take care of the girls
here
as well as in Allentown now that I have you to help me. When they’re older they can choose where they want to live.”

“Then … you’re not … going?”

“Of course, I’m not going. Not even if you don’t want … me.” Her voice broke, tears sparkled in her green eyes and her lips trembled.

“Want you? Lord, honey. I thought my heart was going to stop when I saw how happy you were that you could go back. All I could see was the long, lonely years ahead without you.”

A tear rolled down her cheek. He reached to wipe it away with his thumb.

“You don’t have much faith in me,” she said slowly. “Or in my love for you.”

He pulled her down and held her close.

“Forgive me, sweetheart,” he whispered close to her ear. “Having you, loving you like I do, is so new to me. I keep waiting for something to happen to take it all away.”

“Didn’t you hear me when I told you I would never go back East to live? I’ll stay here because I want to stay here. If … you don’t want me … I’ll still stay right here on Stoney Creek and … it won’t be because of Mr. Whitaker’s will. I’ve … got enough money to buy this … ranch two or three times, and …”

“Don’t say that I don’t want you!” he said gruffly and buried his face in her hair. “And, honey, that’s another thing—I couldn’t scrape up a hundred dollars cash if my life depended on it.”

She reared up and looked at him.

“And that’s another thing,” she repeated his words. “I thought you were a big enough man, secure in who you are and who I am, that it would make no difference who had the money. When we marry what I have will be yours, and what you have will be mine.”

“Sweetheart, you have my heart … my life is yours. I want to work and take care of my woman, my family.”

“I need you—”

“I need you, too, love.”

He pulled her back down on the bed beside him and wrapped his arms around her. They were content for a while to lie there holding each other. He tilted her chin and kissed the tears from her face.

“It tears me up to see you cry. Don’t worry. Together we’ll take care of the girls and our own little ones when they get here.”

“You’ll be a wonderful papa.”

He laughed happily. “We may have twins. Ma said twins run in her side of the family.”

“Did you mind being a twin? You had to share the attention with Trav.”

“Trav and I never knew anything else but sharing the attention. And we always had someone to play with.”

“I used to long for a brother or sister near my age. Margaret was ten years older and couldn’t stand the sight of me. Colleen is more of sister to me than Margaret ever was.”

“I’m glad Trav fell in love with her. He was as hungry as I for a woman of his own.”

“Trell.” She pulled back so she could look at him. “I haven’t told you about my letter from the Indian Bureau. They had already started investigating Alvin Havelshell and reconsidering the wisdom of appointing him as agent here. They were sending a man out to relieve him of his duties. Oh, poor Mrs. Havelshell. What will she do, Trell? Her husband is dead and her father taken away to prison.”

“Cleve said she didn’t even know her father’s real name was Morris and not Longfellow. Cleve took part of the money out of Havelshell’s bag and left it here for Trav to take over to her. She’ll be all right.”

“I hope so. The poor woman must be terribly unhappy trapped in that obese body.”

Linus saddled his horse and rode slowly away from the Agency store. Pud was with Arvella. She was not sad or afraid of what was going to happen to her now that she was a widow and her father was either going to be hanged or spend his life in prison.

She had smiled as if a load had been lifted from her shoulders when Linus and Pud had assured her that she wouldn’t be left to fend for herself. She had held one hand out to Linus and the other to Pud.

“We’ll look out for each other, won’t we? You’ll be my family.”

She had actually said the words, Linus thought now, as he guided the horse down the trail that led to the school. With Pud’s help, they could find a little place and he’d get a job … maybe they could open a restaurant. Arvella was a good cook—

Linus daydreamed as he rode amid the tall trees. Suddenly he realized he was about to ride within sight of the Indian camp. He turned into the woods and circled it and the school, coming out on the high ground above the pond. He rode to a bluff, dismounted and tied his horse so that he could crop the fresh green grass.

He took his raccoon out of the sling he carried her in and set her on the ground.

“Go nose around, Hot Twat.” He remembered that Arvella was not pleased when she heard what he’d named his pet. “I reckon I’d better start callin’ ya somethin’ else. Think I’ll call ya Miss M after Miss Murphy. She’s a nice lady. Didn’t look down her nose at me or nothin’.”

He sat with his back to a boulder and looked down on Stoney Creek homestead. The marshal, his deputy and Longfellow rode out across the grassland. McCall followed shortly after. Linus could see the trail where they grouped and shook hands before they parted. McCall heading toward the river and others going east.

It was cool in the shelter of the boulder. Linus took off his battered hat, drew up his knees and folded his arms across them. He had a lot to think about. All his life he’d been known as a bastard. Even his mother had called him that. Arvella had liked him in spite of it. Pud knew and didn’t seem to mind—

Linus suddenly straightened and stared at a spot where he’d seen a flash of light. He saw it again. It was either the sun reflecting on a mirror or a glass. He stood to study the spot and realized that someone other than he was watching the homestead, someone with a spyglass.

He moved cautiously down the slope toward the area above the pond. Across it he saw the bushes move and the swish of a horse’s tail as the animal fought the pesky flies.

From his concealed position amid the thick elderberry bushes, he could see that the spotted cow staked at the edge of the pond had eaten all the long grass and was stretching its neck to reach more. Cows, he knew, needed grass long enough for them to wrap their tongues around, unlike horses who cropped the grass with their teeth.

As Linus watched, Colleen came from around the end of the corral, moved behind the barn, walked to the pond and along the edge of it toward the cow.

Chapter Thirty

Swishing her stick through the grass to scare away snakes, Colleen went along the edge of the pond. Her mind was on her wedding dress. Made of peach-colored silk, it was the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen. She wanted to be beautiful for Travor, who had seen her only in her pa’s old duck pants and her one faded calico dress. When Jenny gave her the frothy silk dress, she had hesitated.

“It’s a wedding gift from one sister to another. I’ll be so proud to see you in it and proud, too, having you for my sister even if it is by marriage.”

“I’ve nothing to give ya back.”

“You’ve given me your friendship. It’s worth far more to me than a dress.” She spoke so sincerely, Colleen had to believe her.

Pa, I wish ya was here to see me get married. Ya’d like Trav, Pa. He reminds me of ya, in a way. Granny said ya was frisky as a colt when ya was young. Then ya met Ma. Ya loved her so much ya wanted to wrap her up and put her in yore pocket. Pa, I—

“I knew I’d get ya.”

Colleen spun around. Her startled eyes glared full into the face of Hartog, the man who had killed her father. She swung the stick. The blow landed on his upper arm. She was fumbling for the gun strapped to her waist when a heavy weight on her back took her to the ground.

They were on her. Smothering her. She tried to scream, but a sweaty paw closed over her mouth.

“Ya want to fight; that is good! I can hurt ya more.”

Colleen felt despair surround her. She knew that he would not only rape her, but kill her. Hatred was as strong as lust in the face of the man who straddled her.

“Ya shot me in the back, ya bitch!” he spat.

Colleen looked up and saw the man who held her arms on the ground above her head. He had a mass of black hair and a black mustache that curled down from his upper lips. His inky black eyes glittered with excitement.

Hartog ripped her shirt to expose the swelling mounds of her breasts, which he began to fondle roughly, kneading and pinching the tender flesh.

“Bah! I like big titties. These ain’t no bigger’n a horse turd.”

He twisted one nipple between thumb and forefinger until she writhed and sobbed in pain behind the hand clamped to her mouth. She clenched her jaws and endured his brutal attention. Then suddenly he stopped and raised himself up to get off her. Her chance came and she took it. Her knee came up and struck him a glancing blow in the groin. A howl of rage more than pain erupted from his twisted mouth.

She raised her head as he removed his palm from her mouth, but before she could open it to scream, his fist slammed into her face. The blow popped her head back against the ground and she dropped into unconsciousness.

“She … et!” Hartog stared down at her.

“We screw her now,
Señor
?” Mendosa asked hopefully and released her arms. He stood looking down at her exposed breasts and rubbed the bulge in his britches.

“Hell, no! She’s gonna feel ever’ inch I shove in ’er.” He picked up the pistol that had fallen from the holster when they brought her to the ground. “Pick ’er up. We’ll get ’er back to camp ’fore she comes to.”

After Travor parted with Cleve and Dillon, he turned his horse toward the trail that led upward over the bluffs then down to the river crossing. This was beautiful country, and he wondered why he’d not noticed it before. He was acutely attuned to his surroundings, turning his head constantly, sending his sharp gaze skittering over the terrain in suspicious searching.

He felt at home and at peace amid the upthrust ridges, the crisscrossing canyons filled with pines and streams. He and Colleen would plant their roots here and raise a family that would grow and bloom. The thought brought a smile to his face.

Since they had left Stoney Creek there had been an urgency in Mud Pie, as if he sensed they were headed home. Travor allowed the animal to set his own pace. On the downward trail he traveled faster, as the summons to reach home grew stronger within him. Travor let him go, but slowed him cautiously when the trail on which they rode became steep and rocky before entering the thick grove of ponderosa pines and their dense undergrowth.

On his right the river water moved swiftly over boulders and small waterfalls on its way to the sea. On his left was the forest that was the Indian reservation. He was turning to find the crossing when he heard a shout. He stopped and backed Mud Pie into the deep shadows and waited. He heard it again.

“Mc … Ca … ll—”

Alarmed when he realized the urgency in the voice, he moved out of the shadows, his eyes searching the hillside to the east. A horse shot out of the woods and raced toward him. Travor squinted his eyes to better see the rider. He recognized the long-haired, skinny kid from the Indian Agency store. He was bareheaded, his arms and legs flopping as he rode recklessly downhill.

“Mc … Call,” he gasped as he pulled the horse to a skidding halt. “They got … they got … Miss Murphy.”

“Colleen? Who’s … got … Colleen?” Travor yelled hoarsely because suddenly his heart had stopped pumping air to his lungs. When Linus, who was having difficulty controlling his excited horse, couldn’t answer, Travor shouted, “Who, damn you!”

“Hartog!”

“Hartog’s got Colleen? Where?”

“Come.” Linus turned his horse back into the hills.

Travor followed until they came to a clearing, then pulled up beside the boy.

“Did he ride on the homestead?”

“No. They took her from … the pond.”

“They? How many?”

“Hartog and a Mexican. The Mexican carried her to the horses. They went south toward the red bluffs.”