The Cowboy's Baby Bond (14 page)

More muttering.

Johnny waited until the man obeyed. “Celia, can you make it over to me?”

Once she'd hopped to him, he cut her ropes. She yanked off her gag and glowered at her captors.

“Hold the rifle on that man.” He indicated the dark one. Celia took the gun. Johnny hesitated. He wouldn't put it past her to shoot the guy. With utmost speed, he trussed up the blond man.

“You can't do this to me,” the kidnapper whined. “I'm hurt. You shot me. You got to take care of me.”

Johnny grunted. “You'll get what you deserve.”

He lifted another lariat off one of the saddles and tied the dark man, then grabbed the horses' reins. “Get on one,” he told Celia.

She chose the blond man's. “Had enough riding on that one.”

Johnny boosted her into the saddle and swung into the other.

“You gonna leave us here? We'll die.”

“Maybe.” Though he doubted it. Their wounds weren't serious enough. The blond man was barely bleeding and the bloodstain on the dark one's sleeve had stopped spreading. “But I'll send the sheriff back for you. If you're still alive, he'll take you to jail. I expect you'll hang for kidnapping, so you might hope you die first.”

Celia rode her horse so close to the half-breed that Johnny wondered if she meant to trample him. “I hope you bleed to death,” she told him.

“Let's go.” Johnny waited for her to head out, then he followed. They rode away, ignoring the angry demands of the two men.

She slowed to ride at Johnny's side. “I hope they suffer tons and die in the middle of the night.”

He kind of hoped the same thing, but hearing the harsh words from her made him realize how cruel it sounded, and he softened his attitude. He stopped to gather up Gray's reins and lead him. “Either way, justice will be served. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“I'm mostly mad. If I had a gun...” She turned to him. “I should have used yours while I had it.” Her eyes flashed with hatred. “Give it back. I'll take care of them permanently.”

“I don't think so.”

“From now on I'm carrying my own. And a knife.”

“You're safe. That's what counts.”

She huffed. Obviously she didn't think that was good enough.

“Did they give any indication what they wanted?” Johnny asked.

“They're convinced Willow inherited a gold mine. Stupid men. Do they think she'd be riding around the country looking for her sisters if she had one?”

“I don't think she wants you to be together because of having or not having a mine.” Celia's reasoning didn't make sense to him, but perhaps she was too angry and afraid to think clearly.

“Where's my sister now? Did you leave her in Granite Creek?”

“I left her with Sarah and Adam where we ate.” He urged the animals to a faster pace. “I hope they are okay. She'll be awfully happy to see you.”

“She's thinks I'm a troublemaker.”

He let that pass without comment. Hoped she would, too.

“If you're expecting me to thank you, you'll wait a long time.”

“You wanted to go with them?” He knew she didn't, but she should acknowledge it instead of packing around a chip on her shoulder the size of a log cabin.

“Nope. But doesn't mean I'm going to thank you.”

“Anyone ever tell you you have a bad attitude? One that's going to get you into serious trouble if you don't correct it.”

She snorted. “Anyone ever tell you to mind your own business?”

“It's saying such things that will get you into trouble. If you were a man I'd be sorely tempted to teach you some manners.” Johnny kept his tone mild, not wanting her to feel threatened, only warned.

She turned her horse to face him, a look of defiance hardening her eyes and mouth. “With your fists?”

He met her look without flinching, even though he sensed a world of pain behind her defiance. When he spoke, his words were gentle. “Is that what Mr. Reames did?”

Something dark and fearful flickered through her eyes before she turned away. “Just because you have your cap set for Willow doesn't give you the right to say anything about me. Keep out of my business.” She rode away.

He hurried to keep pace. He'd touched a nerve with his words, and knowing so touched one in him. He hated seeing anyone—man or beast—beaten. Hated seeing people treat each other with anger.

“If ever you want to talk about it, I'm ready to listen.” He wasn't surprised when she didn't reply. He hadn't expected her to. He simply wanted her to know he would be available.

They reached the break in the trees that would take them back to the campsite where they'd had dinner. The sun sent long bony shadows from every tree. The afternoon had rushed by and they were still an hour or more from Granite Creek.

Celia paused, looked down the river, turned the horse in that direction.

Johnny rode closer, crowding her so she couldn't ride away. “Willow will be waiting to see if you are okay. No need to make her worry any longer.”

“There you go again. Sticking your nose in my affairs.”

He gave her an impassive look. “There you go again, being needlessly rude and confrontational.”

She glowered at him, but he was certain he saw something else beneath the anger. Was it fear? Regret? He couldn't say.

He edged them forward through the trees. He could hardly wait to see Willow, be responsible for erasing the worry from her face. Would she think of the kiss he'd given her before he left? Would she give an indication as to her feelings about it? Had she enjoyed it? Would she welcome another? Was he rushing headlong into hurt and disappointment again? Maybe he would take his time, giving opportunity for things between them to go either way.

They reached the place where he'd left them. The only thing to indicate they'd been there was the cold ashes of a campfire and the flattened grass.

They both stopped.

Celia grunted. “See how much she cared what happened to me? She's gone on without me. Doesn't matter if I come or not.”

Johnny's initial surprise gave way to understanding. And then a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. “No. She trusts me to take care of you and bring you to her. She's left for town because of Adam and Sarah. They'll be far safer there than sleeping out in the open.” She trusted him. He'd moments ago decided to see how things developed between them, and having this sign of her confidence was huge.

Celia rocked her head back and forth. “You're not very smart if you think you can trust her.”

“Why do you say that? Are you determined to think the worst of her no matter what she does?” And yet the words brought back doubts. Why hadn't Willow said more about her husband? Was she hiding something?

No, he would not let Celia influence his thoughts. Willow trusted him.

He switched to Gray's back, more comfortable on his own horse. “Let's catch up to them.”

In his mind he planned their meeting. When they met up, she'd welcome a kiss from him. And he'd give it. He smiled inside, allowing himself to believe it would mean something.

Chapter Thirteen

“W
hat if they don't find us?” Sarah's voice thinned with worry.

“Honey, Johnny knows where I'm going. He'll follow us. We can trust him to find Celia and bring her to us. But we need to get to town before dark.”

Willow hated to leave the spot where she'd last seen Celia and Johnny. It felt as if she was giving up on them. But what choice did she have? Johnny would understand and approve. Celia likely wouldn't, but then she seemed determined to dislike and disapprove of everything Willow did.

Already the light had faded, causing her to startle at every shifting shadow, certain someone followed them. She clutched her bag to her, one hand holding the pistol. She would put it boldly on her lap except it would add to Sarah's concern. Willow glanced back to where her sister was sitting with Adam. “It's good to know you are keeping him safe.”

“He's almost asleep.”

“Riding in the wagon is like being rocked. When we get settled in our new home, I am going to buy a rocking chair so I can rock him. And you, if you'd like.”

“Mama used to rock me. I miss her and Papa.” Her little voice trembled.

“I know. I do, too. But the best thing we can do for them is make a new home for ourselves and live like they'd want us to.”

“Celia doesn't think it matters. She says they can't see us.”

“Do we do what's right only if people can see us?”

“No...” Uncertainty filled the word as Sarah considered the question. “Oh, I get it. We live like Mama and Papa would want us to even if they can't see us.”

“That's right. And we'll help each other and teach Adam, just like Mama and Papa taught us.”

Sarah's relieved sigh eased through Willow's thoughts. If only she could count on Celia's cooperation, as well. She glanced back at the trail. Where were they? What was taking them so long? Were they injured? Worse? Her insides recoiled at the dreadful possibilities.
Don't worry. Johnny will take care of Celia.
But who would take care of Johnny?

Willow knew the answer. Had known it all along, even though she had fought it for a very long time. God would take care of Johnny. She could trust Him. She would trust Him.

“Willow?” Sarah's voice cracked. “Riders catching up to us.”

Willow's heart kicked into full gallop. She glanced back, to see three horses coming fast. Johnny had only one horse. It couldn't be him. She had no desire to encounter any more trail cowboys. Could she hope to outrun them?

She took her pistol from the bag and held it ready to use, then slapped the reins. The old mare picked up the pace but her trot was only measurably faster than her walk, and she wouldn't have any gallop left in her after so many days of pulling a wagon loaded with goods and people.

“They're closer. They're not slowing down.” Sarah gave a minute-by-minute report. “There's riders on only two horses. I think it might be Johnny and Celia.”

Willow looked back. “It is.” She pulled the mare to a halt. “Stay with Adam.” She scrambled to the ground and raced back to greet them.

Johnny dropped from his horse at her approach and ran toward her, his arms open.

She threw herself into his embrace, laughing and crying at the same time. “You found her. You're both safe.” She clung to him, her arms about his waist, thinking she might never let him go.

Celia did not get down, didn't even look directly at Willow, but kept her gaze on the wagon.

Willow left the comfort of Johnny's arms and went to Celia's side. She squeezed her sister's leg. “I am so glad to see you safe and sound.”

“Uh-huh. Guess I better go say hi to Sarah.” And she rode up to the wagon.

“She's not exactly happy to see me.” Willow's joy turned sour.

Johnny caught her shoulders and brought her back into his arms, where she gladly went, needing comfort so badly she ached. “She's not happy inside. So she's not happy with anyone or anything outside herself.” His hand pressed Willow's head closer and she leaned into his chest.

“I am so glad to see you.” Hastily, she added, “Both of you.”

“I'm glad to see you, too. All of you.”

They held each other for a moment, then he caught her chin and tipped her face toward his. The evening light made his features angular.

She studied him. She'd never felt this close to a man before, as if their minds shared the same thoughts, their blood beat with the same emotions.

They gazed into each other's eyes, exploring the possibilities.

“You have caused me to...” He didn't finish immediately. “I've grown very fond of you and your little family.”

“And we of you.” She dared not confess her own feelings. Before she could find the strength to pull back, to explain it could not be, that they could not care for each other in a meaningful way—before she could remind herself why it wasn't possible—he lowered his mouth to hers.

Despite all her fine talk about not getting too fond of him, she leaned into his kiss, splaying her hands to his back, letting herself believe for this brief moment that she could be loved. Her heart flooded with warmth. Oh, to be free to run to these arms every minute of every day, every time she needed comfort or wanted simply to feel close to him.

“Are we spending the night in the middle of the trail?” Celia's sharp voice called out, breaking their private moment. “So you two can get all kissy-faced?”

Johnny dropped his arms and chuckled softly. “Your sister has spoken.”

Willow stuffed back a frustrated sigh. Celia knew how to say the wrong thing at the wrong time. And she did it purposely. What was wrong with the girl?

But Celia was right about one thing. They needed to get on to town before it grew pitch-dark.

Willow returned to the wagon. Johnny rode alongside on Gray, leading the other two horses. As they went, he told them how he'd found the two men who currently lay tied and awaiting rescue by the sheriff.

“You could have been shot.” One gun against two. Her mouth grew so dry she almost choked. What if something had happened to Johnny? Who would have rescued Celia? Who would have opened his arms to Willow and comforted her? Kissed her?

“Didn't happen.”

“It could have.” She spoke more sharply than she intended, but only because the thought of him injured or dead left her shaken to the core. It would have given her one more guilt to bear. And left her so empty the wind would howl through her heart.

She could not contain her silly thoughts, even though she knew she read more into his kiss than she should or could allow herself. “We'll soon be in town. You'll be grateful you can get on with your plans.” The words were meant to remind herself of how things would proceed. They'd go their separate ways and she would do nothing to persuade him otherwise. She could not.

For Adam's sake. For hers, too. She knew what Johnny and others would say if they knew the truth. Mr. Reames had made certain she understood. But even if he hadn't, she recalled Mama's reaction to an unmarried woman in the community who was with child.

Oh, Mama and Papa, I have disappointed you so much. I promise I'll make it up as best I can by making a home for the girls that you would be proud of. I promise I'll bring God back into my life and obey Him just as you'd want me to
.

She would trust Him, too. It would be easier now that she had both Sarah and Celia with her.

They approached the buildings of the town. Lamplight glowed from the windows of the homes they passed and she glimpsed inside. Soon she would be sitting at her own table, sharing it with her sisters and her son. Soon things would be as she wanted them.

Lanterns hung outside the businesses as they made their way through the center of town.

“Is this Granite Creek?” Sarah asked.

“Yes, it is. Welcome home.”

“But where's our house?”

“We're almost there.” Willow followed the directions the man at the store had given her and they drove into the backyard.

“It's dark.” Sarah pressed herself to Willow's back. “It doesn't look very friendly.”

“What did you expect?” Celia's words rang with accusation that Willow did her best to ignore.

“Do you have a lamp?” Johnny asked, and she found it in the wagon. He lit it and handed it to her. “Have a look around while I take the horses to the sheriff and tell him where to find that pair.”

She lifted a sleepy Adam, who lay his head on her shoulder. His soft breath brushed her neck; his warm body strengthened her resolve. Johnny rode away, leaving her feeling very much alone. No, she wasn't alone, nor was she frightened. This was the fulfillment of her plans. This was their new home and she would make it warm and welcoming.

She led the girls to the back door. It squawked a protest as she shoved it open and held the lamp high to reveal the interior. She gasped and horror hollowed her insides.

“It's awfully dirty.” Sarah clung to Willow's side.

Celia snorted. “This is our house? I've seen better pigsties. I should have known.” Bitterness and accusation dripped from every harsh word.

Willow couldn't answer, couldn't think. The room was a shambles. A table lay overturned. Two chairs, each with a leg broken off, leaned against the wall. The one cupboard had been ripped away, except for one corner, and the empty shelves dipped toward the floor. Bird droppings and feathers littered the scarred planking, along with broken china. Sarah sobbed quietly.

“I knew you would do this to us,” Celia raged. “You might fool Johnny with your pretend niceness, but you don't fool me.”

“Celia, hush. Let me think.” The girl's words tore strip after strip from Willow's heart. Why was she so bitter toward her? But Willow couldn't let her disappointment control her. She had a plan to make a happy home—a plan that now lay shattered at her feet. “The rest of the house can't be this bad.” Careful of where she stepped, she struggled forward, Adam resting in her arms, Sarah clinging to her side. “A good broom and a bucket of hot water will soon fix this up.”

She ignored Celia's string of complaints. If she listened, if she let herself believe half of what Celia accused her of, she would sink to the floor and weep her eyes out.

They reached the doorway that led to what was likely meant to be the sitting room. Willow's heart sank as she saw more debris and destruction. Some furniture had been left behind, but it now lay in ruins, broken intentionally. “Who did this?” she wailed. “Who would destroy a perfectly good house?”

Although she didn't expect an answer, Celia provided one. “Same sort of people who would want to find out about your gold mine.”

Willow lifted the lamp toward her sister. “Who says I have a gold mine?”

“Those two men seemed to think you did. After all, didn't you spend most of the last two years in Wolf Hollow—a gold-mining town? Isn't that why you and Bertie left us?”

“I have no gold mine. Bertie found a few flakes of gold. Nothing more.” Most of it he spent recklessly. Only by subterfuge had she been able to squirrel away enough to provide for herself and Adam and now her sisters.

She returned her attention to the house. It would take all her gold to make this place livable. She pushed her shoulders back. “We will fix this place up.” Hard work would have to do. She could not spend all her savings on it.

Celia backed away. “I ain't about to stick my hands into bird doo.”

“Fine. I'll do it myself.”

“Willow,” Sarah whispered. “Where are we going to sleep tonight?”

Certainly not in here
. It would take days to clean up. “We'll camp outside. Come on. Let's get a fire going in the backyard.”

Sarah followed her outdoors. Willow didn't hear Celia and didn't have an ounce of strength to spare trying to convince the girl to come with them. She'd do whatever she chose.

Willow pulled the quilt from the back of the wagon and spread it on the dusty ground. Grass seemed rather sparse in the little bit of yard she could see by lamplight and the weak moon. “Sarah, you hold Adam while I find wood for the fire.”

“Where will you find food?”

“Once I get organized I'll see if I can get someone to open their store for me.” She'd bang on doors until she did. She had people depending on her.

Oh, how she wished Johnny would come back. But he hadn't said he would. He'd done more than she could expect and now she had to let him go. She had to erase him from her life.

She moaned at the thought of never seeing him again, never hearing his calm answers, never feeling his comforting arms or tasting his gentle kisses. If Sarah heard her, no doubt the child put it down to her reaction to the house, which was more than enough to cause Willow to moan and feel sorry for herself. Except she wouldn't. She'd face the future with hope. And trust?

God, are You really with me in this mess?

If she meant to trust, now was a good time to start.
God, I trust You to help me deal with this.
Strengthened by her decision, she vowed to make the best of the situation, and started gathering branches and bits of wood. Why were there so many wood scraps in the yard? She looked at them more closely. Wooden shingles. No doubt off her house. One more thing she must eventually deal with. It was too much to think they could go through the rest of the summer without rain.

She would tackle that problem when the time came. She had trouble enough to contend with right now.

The wood pile grew and she started a fire. The warm flames mocked her, leaving her feeling cold and brittle inside. Who slept outside rather than in their house? Only a person who had been foolish enough to rent it without checking it out. But hadn't Mr. Marsh said this was the only available place? So she would have to make it work.

Celia edged toward the fire, her expression dark, her arms folded across her chest. “This is even worse than what you did when you left us with the Reameses and ran off to enjoy excitement and adventure. I thought you didn't care then. I know it now.”