Tall, Dark, and Texan (10 page)

They walked past the barn to the corral. Teagen whistled, and the palomino lifted her head, then came toward him. “She was my mother’s horse,” he said. “So she’s very old.”

He sat Em on the top railing as Glory stretched her neck over the fence. “Tomorrow night when you come to say good night, Em, bring a piece of a carrot or apple. Glory loves that. If you bring her a treat, she’ll walk over to meet you every time, hoping to get more.”

Emily brushed the mare’s mane. “I will.” Then she did what she’d done that afternoon; she wrapped an arm around the horse and pressed her face against the warm hair.

Jessie squeezed Teagen’s fingers. When he glanced in her direction, he thought he saw tears in her eyes.

They stood for a while, then Teagen lifted Emily back on his arm. “Glory and you both need your sleep now. After you eat your breakfast in the morning, I’ll saddle her for you and let you ride her around the corral.”

They walked toward the light of the house. In the blackness between the barn and the porch, Emily snuggled against Teagen’s shoulder and whispered, “Thank you, Mister.”

“You’re welcome,” he answered.

He set the child down on the porch. Without a word, she bent close and kissed his cheek, then ran back into the house.

Jessie stepped onto the porch and smiled. “I’d like to thank you also.”

“Good night, Jessie.” Teagen stayed on the ground, knowing he still had to make rounds before he turned in, but before he could turn away, Jessie leaned down and kissed his cheek.

“Good night, Teagen,” she said as if she’d repeated the words a hundred times.

Before Teagen could think of what to do, she vanished.

TEAGEN MANAGED TO EAT BREAKFAST THE NEXT morning without being hit by flying food or having Bethie spill something on him. The girls now felt at home, and after four days of good food and plenty of sleep, they were as fun as puppies to watch. Rose seemed only to know how to talk in questions. Emily still didn’t look like she wanted him around, but at least she didn’t cry. And Bethie giggled and played with everything she touched. This morning she wielded a wooden spoon and had great fun doing so until she whacked Rose in the head, and Jessie took the spoon away.

Bethie would have cried, but Martha handed her a long, thin biscuit she’d rolled in cinnamon and sugar before baking. The tiny girl giggled with delight. Within seconds her face was sparkling with spices.

Martha served hot biscuits covered in fresh butter and honey alongside scrambled eggs made with cheese. He thought of asking where the meat was, but he’d much rather do without than see Jessie bent over in the weeds again. They raised pigs for food and, at this rate, he’d be selling them soon.

When he got the chance to talk to Jessie, while Martha took the girls to wash their hands, he asked, “You all right?” He didn’t want to add that she looked tired.

“I’m fine,” she answered. “Martha said you’ll be going into town to pick up supplies and meet the stage.”

Teagen hadn’t heard anything about supplies. Martha only gave him a list once a month, but with the extra guests she may have thought of something she needed, so he played along. “Right.” There were a few things he wanted to pick up.

“Could I go too?”

“If you like.” The idea of spending a few hours alone with her sounded good. He tried to keep their visits at night short because she needed her sleep and he had rounds to make. But the drive over and back would give them lots of time.

“Thanks. The girls will love it.”

Teagen reached for his hat, not allowing her to see his disappointment. Of course a mother would want to be with her children. He felt guilty for even thinking she would have wanted to come along with just him.

“The girls will love what?” Rose asked as she ran into the room.

“A ride back and forth from town,” Jessie announced as the others joined her. “Teagen has to go in for supplies, and I thought we’d join him.”

“Not me,” Rose said. “I don’t have time. One of the cats is going to have kittens, and I can’t leave. If it happened while I was gone, I’d never forgive myself.”

Teagen rested against the doorjamb and smiled. He swore little Rose already sounded just like Mrs. Dickerson, the schoolteacher who’d lived across from the trading post for years. Maybe schoolteachers really were born.

Emily started to cry. “I don’t want to go without Rose.”

Martha shook her head. “Bethie might miss her nap if she goes to town. She’d better stay with me. And Emily can help me put up jelly.” Martha patted Em’s head. “She’s the best helper I’ve ever had.”

Emily stopped crying.

Jessie looked disappointed. “Well, I thought it was a good idea.”

“You go on,” Martha said. “I’ll watch the girls and without them you can travel faster. I’ll give you the list of supplies while Teagen brings the team around.”

Jessie ran from the kitchen. “I’ll need time to get ready.”

“Take all you need,” he answered, having learned from his sister that it never paid to hurry a female.

Teagen walked out, happy for once to follow orders. He never dreamed something as simple as going into town would be such a debate. As he got the team ready, he decided he shouldn’t have been surprised, half the time Sage had trouble making up her mind about things. For Teagen, it was a question of what needed to be done; he never really considered what he wanted to do.

Glancing toward the barn door, he noticed Rose, her arms full of cats, heading to the house. Women, even the tiny ones, were strange creatures. The five-year-old was afraid of gentle Glory but dragged the half-wild cats around as if they were her dolls. He wouldn’t be surprised if he returned to find them all dressed up in clothes.

Emily came out while he waited for her mother. Teagen didn’t waste time talking; he knew what she wanted. He sat her up on Glory’s bare back and showed her how to control the horse just by her movements. Glory was so well trained and sensitive to the slightest guiding that she moved easily when Em directed her.

When Teagen pulled her off, Emily cried, not wanting to leave, but her tears seemed more sad than angry. He promised her they’d ride again when he got back from town, and she seemed satisfied.

“Thanks, Mister,” she said with her head down. Then she turned and ran back to the house.

Teagen didn’t know what he thought about a creature so afraid of everything around her, but he did like the way she loved Glory. That he could understand.

Thirty minutes later, Jessie was finally ready to go. She and Martha had a long discussion about what color of thread to buy even after he’d helped Jessie in the wagon. Teagen waited in frustrated silence. When Jessie climbed back down to kiss the girls good-bye again, he didn’t say a word. When she spent five minutes beside Martha looking at the clouds gathering to the north and wondering if it might rain, Teagen waited without comment.

When she finally settled in beside him, he’d calculated that he could have been halfway back from town by now if he’d left without her after breakfast. A few dark clouds covered the sun, making his mood even darker than usual.

They were across the bridge and on the road when she finally said, “Are we making this trip in silence?”

“I hadn’t planned on it,” he answered without looking at her.

“Are you mad about something?”

“No.” The word came far too fast to be true.

To his surprise, Jessie laughed. “You are. You’re like a big angry bear. Well, if you’re trying to frighten me, Teagen, you’re far too late. I know you too well.”

He started to say she didn’t know him at all. A few walks, a few minutes of conversation at night didn’t mean she knew him. But she thought she did, and that he found very interesting. “If you know me so well, you should know why I’m mad.”

She patted his arm. “Oh, so you lied; you are mad.”

He forgot what they were talking about. She’d leaned so close that their bodies bumped together as the wagon rocked. With a tug on the reins, he stopped the team and faced her. It was time to have the talk he’d been putting off. She couldn’t go on patting on him and touching him and lacing her hand in his. It wasn’t proper. She was a widow, and her touches made his thoughts go in directions he shouldn’t be heading with a woman like Jessie.

“We need to talk about something, Jessie,” he began.

“All right, but Martha packed a lunch. Maybe we should wait until we stop to eat.” She rested her hand on his shoulder as she searched behind the bench. “I thought we’d eat it on our way back, but if you want to stop now . . .”

“I’m not hungry,” he said.

Her breast accidentally brushed his arm as she straightened. “Me, either, but it does smell good. Martha is a fine cook.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wanted to talk about her touching him, but suddenly this didn’t seem the time when it came so natural to her and he guessed she didn’t mean anything by it. She’d probably be embarrassed if he even mentioned it.

Teagen made a decision. He’d endure the touching for her sake. After all, he didn’t want to make her feel bad about something she seemed to think was so natural. And he knew he couldn’t bring himself to say “breast” in front of her.

He urged the horses on, knowing that all this talking to himself was a lie. He wasn’t mentioning it because he liked her touch and didn’t want to do one damn thing to stop it. “You’re right, we’ll talk after we pick up the supplies.”

She slipped her hand between his arm and chest. “Good idea. We never seem to have enough time to talk.” After a moment of silence, she added, “You know why Martha insisted you go to town today?”

He slowed the team as they made a bend in the road. “I know. She thinks Sage will be on the stage. She’s done it almost every week. If Sage doesn’t get home soon, we’ll have enough supplies to last us through three winters. I wouldn’t have left today, but the Apache will see no one crosses the bridge.”

They drove on awhile, then she surprised him by asking if he’d teach her to drive a team. When he passed the reins to her, he placed his arms around Jessie, talking her through what to do. He laughed and she squealed all the way to the trading post. By the time he showed her how to pull up the team, his arm felt quite comfortable around her.

Once inside, his good mood continued as they picked out the supplies Martha needed and added hats for the girls. He tossed in more items he noticed that Jessie might need while she picked out just the right color of thread for Martha’s latest sewing project.

Shouting drew him to the porch while Anderson figured up his bill.

A boy of about ten rode bareback on a horse that had a rope tied to make a crude bridle. He yelled as he came closer. “Help!” He sounded out of breath. “I got to have help!”

Teagen lifted his rifle from the wagon and noticed several other men did the same. If trouble followed the boy, they needed to be prepared.

The boy seemed to jump from his horse while at full speed. “You got to come,” he said to the nearest man. “You all got to come help.”

Teagen lowered his gun when he saw no one following the boy.

“What is it?” Teagen was aware that even though the kid’s panic looked real, it might be a trap.

The boy tried to talk and gulp air at the same time. “The stage has been hit. Folks are hurt back about six miles from here.” He crumpled to the dirt, exhausted and frightened. “Some of them are dead. They got to be. There is blood in the road.”

Teagen’s fingers gripped around his rifle and he looked over at the barrel-chested trading post owner. “Anderson?”

Elmo Anderson didn’t need Teagen to say more. “My horse is tied just off the porch. It’s not a McMurray horse, but you’re welcome to it.”

Teagen nodded his thanks and headed for the mount. He glanced at Jessie as he passed.

Her face paled, and a cool wind whipped loose strands of her hair across her cheek. He couldn’t help but think she looked too young to be the widowed mother of three.

“Stay here with Elmo until I get back,” he ordered.

She looked like she might faint, so he lowered his voice. “You’ll be safe here, Jessie. Wait for me.”

She nodded once, then ran to help Elmo with the boy.

The kid looked at Teagen. “You one of the McMurrays, mister?”

“Yeah,” Teagen said as he and several others prepared to ride.

“I thought so. Your sister is on that stage.”

Teagen was gone without hearing more. He rode as fast as he could up the road with the other riders at his heels. In his mind only one fact kept rolling around in his head: Sage was on the stage.

It seemed like forever before he caught first sight of the stagecoach. It was turned on one side with the door open and pointing toward heaven. Luggage lay scattered around. One box had come open, and paper blew out of it a few pages at a time.

He slowed and moved closer, barely noticing as rain started plopping down in huge drops.

Two men lay in the dirt. One had a pool of blood circling his head. The other’s body lay twisted like a broken toy. Both looked dead.

The horses had been unhooked from the stage and grazed at the side of the road as if nothing had happened.

When he drew closer, he saw an older woman sitting on a piece of luggage. Her hands covered her face, and he could hear her crying. Sage was nowhere in sight.

Teagen rode past the bodies and the woman. He couldn’t help the dead, and the woman looked in no danger.

A young man in a store-bought suit stood with a Bible in his hand. He didn’t seem to be comforting the crying woman or praying for the dead. His eyes were glazed over in fear. Blood dripped from a wound on his forehead, but he didn’t seem to notice.

He stared at the riders in panic. The crying woman looked up also but just stared. Fear floated in their eyes, yet they seemed incapable of doing anything to protect themselves.