Tumbleweed Letters (9 page)

His eyes bore into hers. “And you don’t know what I’m capable of, Sophie Catherine.” He turned to Dora. “I’m much obliged you came all the way out here to warn us, but my wife stays with me.”

Chapter Twelve

Sophie fretted as she went about her chores. Would Veers come to the ranch? Would he make trouble? Would Cam and Eli be safe? Would she be taken away from the little boy she adored and the man who treated her so well? An acute ache tore at her soul. Now was not the time to be selfish. Now was the time to protect those to whom her heart belonged.

Should she try to flee? Where would she go? Back to Deadwood, or to someplace new? After the passion of last night, could she walk away from her husband? Would he miss her if she did? Questions. She grew dizzy with them.

Eli followed her about, beating on his pot with a spoon, while she busied herself with cleaning the bedroom she and Cam shared. She scrubbed the blood-stained sheets, and Eli chased the cats. She added more wood to the fire under the cauldron beside the house and washed shirts and long johns. Sheets fluttered in the cold wind.

Cam stayed close by, working in the barn. From time to time he’d come outside and watch her working. The set of his shoulders and sober face bore strong traces of worry. She hated bringing her past to this man.

After lunch, she rocked Eli to sleep, singing old Irish songs. The floorboards creaked, and she looked to see Cam standing in the doorway, worry etched in his face. “Want me to lay him in his bed?”

“His sheets aren’t dry yet. You can put him on the sofa.”

Cam shrugged out of his coat and took Eli from her arms. “I emptied the wash water from the cauldron.”

“Thanks. I’d have done it.” She covered the sleeping child with a quilt.

“You’ve worked hard enough for one day. The house sparkles from your efforts.”

She wasn’t used to receiving compliments, although they did warm something deep within her. A smile grew. “Will you have a cup of coffee with me, then?”

Cam stepped toward her and cold fingertips trailed down her cheek. “You’ve got a beautiful smile, Sophie Catherine.” He took another step and placed both hands on her face, thumbs caressing her lips. Blue eyes bore into hers. “I’ll not lose you. Not now.” His head dipped and his lips murmured, “Not ever,” before claiming hers. Arms banded around her waist, lifting her to him.

Both were breathing hard when he set her feet on the floor. “If Archie Veers comes to the Double-M, he’ll have to go through me to get to you.”

Sophie feared it wouldn’t be “if” but “when.”

Later, after she made the beds, her gaze settled on her valise. What few clothes she had were still packed. She needed to settle completely into her new home. She opened the bottom drawer and found Cam’s work pants. The next drawer held his underwear, stockings, and handkerchiefs. Lavender sachet wafted out when she opened the drawer above that. It was full of his dead wife’s unmentionables. There was a small drawer full of gloves, jewelry, and lace-edged handkerchiefs. Another small drawer held an assortment of combs and a brush and comb with silver trim. Had Cam bought her these beautiful things? Why hadn’t he packed them away?

She went to the large armoire and opened both doors. Beautiful gowns and dresses were crammed inside. Slippers, some with jewels across the top, were neatly arranged on the floor.

Saints preserve me. I’m living with the ghost of his first wife. Sleeping in his arms while her things line the drawers and armoire.
Did she have the right to remove them? Was there a trunk in which to pack them away? Perhaps Eli might want his mother’s jewelry and combs some day. Still, touching a dead woman’s things made her uncomfortable. She’d broach the subject with Cam tonight. Living out of her valise for another day or two wouldn’t pose a problem.

Once again, she felt like an outsider. Only this time she was an intruder into another woman’s world. Unease crept in. Cam must have loved his wife very much if he kept her things all this time. Hadn’t Standing Bear talked about the depth of Cam’s grief? What would it be like to be loved to such an obsessive degree?

Daylight waned as smells of her baked bread filled the house. Eli played with the cats while she cooked supper. Would Cam soon come inside? He said he was chopping more wood, but the sound of his efforts had ended some time ago. She went to the window in the parlor to see if she could spot him, and that’s when her heart crumbled. He sat on the log in the cemetery, his lips moving. Even though so much had passed between them—kisses, hugs, intimacies and whispered words—he was still emotionally tied to his dead wife.

Tears stung the backs of her eyes. What chance did she have of rivaling his attachment to a dead woman’s memory? She swiped at a falling tear with the back of her hand. No chance. She had no chance of meaning as much to him as Amanda. Taking a deep breath and willing herself to keep control, she turned and saw Amanda and Cam’s wedding tintype. She’d studied it yesterday when she cleaned this room. No wonder Cam couldn’t forget Amanda; she’d been a beautiful woman.

Cam was very quiet during supper. No doubt he was mooning over his first wife. Desperation warred with disappointment. She’d never mean half as much to him as the stunning dark-haired woman smiling from the mantel, her clothes and personal items filling their bedroom. This place held too many ghosts.

While she pushed food around her plate, a plan slowly came together. She’d leave this place. Cam and Eli would be safe if she were gone. If she went back to Deadwood, he’d only come for her. She cast a furtive glance at her husband. Or would he? His real love was here, safe in the cemetery and in his heart. No, she doubted she’d be missed except at mealtime or when he had to take little Eli along with him when he went out on the range.

“Momma. Kiss.”

Oh, but she’d miss this adorable child. She leaned over and kissed Eli.
And I’ll miss the father, too. How did I fall in love with them both so quickly?

Would Veers think to look for her in the Lakota village? Standing Bear had talked about his people there. Maybe she could hide with them for a few days and then move farther west after she had a destination in mind.

Once Cam was asleep, she’d take Daisy, the older horse Cam had said belonged to his mother, and leave. She’d take the danger of Veers with her, along with her love for this man and his child. For she did love Cam McBride.

She was still brushing her hair when Cam came into the bedroom. “Is Eli settled for the night?”

“Yes.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and bent to kiss the top of her head.

If only she could get through the next few minutes without his detecting her lie. She laid her brush down and then picked it up again. “Cam.” She cleared her throat. “I…I am indisposed and will be for the next few days.” Her monthly wasn’t due for another week, but if he wanted to touch her and weave his magic on her again, leaving him would be twice as hard.

He patted her shoulders. “I understand. I’ll heat you a brick for your pains. My Amanda used to suffer terrible pains when she was in that condition.”

My Amanda.
She wanted to fling her brush across the room. She wanted to tell him she was his wife now, that she should have first place in his heart, not his dead wife. Her jealousy and anger shamed her.
God forgive me. I’ve got hate in my heart for a dead woman.

After a chapter of their book was read and Cam’s snoring filled the room, she slowly crept out of bed. She grabbed her valise and shoes and tiptoed to the kitchen to dress. Then she wrote Cam a note and placed it on the kitchen table.

Bitter cold winds whipped around her as she and Daisy plodded through the darkness. She used the stars to navigate, something she’d taught her students back in Pennsylvania. Standing Bear had told her his village was a few miles west of Cam’s ranch. She hoped she’d be able to find it.

****

Cam woke to an empty bed. Had Sophie Catherine gone to check on Eli? He slipped out of bed and padded down the hall to his son’s room. Eli was sleeping soundly—alone. Had she gone outside to the outhouse? He stepped into the kitchen, lit the kerosene lamp on the table—and saw the note.

His stomach dropped and an inward chill, colder than the chill of the house, seeped through him. He snatched the note and read:
“Dear Cam, I’ve gone away so you and Eli will be safe. Tell Veers the truth: you don’t know where I am. Even if Veers wasn’t relentlessly pursuing me, I couldn’t stay. Not when your heart belongs to Amanda. I know now I can never replace her, not when you visit her grave every day and the house is full of her. I’m taking Daisy. I hope you won’t consider it stealing, for I’ve never stolen a thing in my life. I’ll always cherish my time with you and Eli. God bless you both. Sophie Catherine.”

“No!” he roared. It couldn’t be happening again. He couldn’t be losing another wife. He read the note again. What did she mean, she could never measure up to Amanda? She did. Sweet heaven, she did. He glanced around the kitchen that bore her stamp of cleanliness. The heel of his hand went to his heart where an ache so deep and cutting cleaved it in two.
Sophie Catherine.

His Sophie Catherine was gone.

As soon as the chores were done and Eli fed and dressed, he saddled Samson. Riding to town in this bitter wind and snow would be hard on the boy, but he had to find his wife and bring her home. He’d wrap Eli in a blanket and do his best to keep him warm.

His head turned at the sound of horse hooves. The man approaching wore a scowl and an air of arrogance. Veers, no doubt. Cam slipped his rifle out of the holster hanging from the saddle. He’d shot many a varmint with it, but never a two-legged one.

“That’s far enough. State your business.”

Veers slowly raised his hands. “I’m a Pinkerton.” He jerked his head toward the badge on his coat. “I’m searching for Sophie Flannigan. I heard in Deadwood you two were married a few days ago. She’s wanted for stealing bearer bonds from the owner of a railroad back east.”

“She’s not here. Once she heard you were in town, she left.” Damn the man for ruining his happiness.

Veers lowered his arms and crossed them over the pommel of his saddle. “Well now, how am I to believe that?”

“My word’s always been good. If I tell you my wife left me, she did.”

The Pinkerton edged his horse a little closer, his hard stare boring into him. “Mind if I take a look around?”

“Yes. This is my land. No one comes on it unless they’ve been asked.”

Veers shifted in his saddle. “But I’m the law.”

“Not in these parts, you’re not. Now I suggest if you like that badge on your coat, you’d best turn around and leave. Fact is, I’m headed to town myself to collect my wife and bring her home. You’re welcome to ride along—or not. Either way, get off my land.”

“How do I know your new wife ain’t hiding inside the house?” Veers stared toward the cabin, squinting through the snow as if he could see inside.

“Look at me. Do I look like a happy newlywed to you? She ran off during the night. Left a note.”

Veers had the audacity to extend his hand. “I’ll take that note.”

“Like hell.”

Chapter Thirteen

She was lost. Cold, hungry, and scared, Sophie urged Daisy onward. How many mountain ridges had they crossed? Snow had started falling around sunrise and quickly covered the ground. Now Daisy’s steps were muffled by inches of snow. Sophie’s teeth chattered. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. She could be home now in the warmth of her kitchen, teaching Eli new words and cooking something special for Cam.

The snow was so heavy she could barely see the pines as she passed them, their branches hanging low with the accumulation. Dark shapes, trees without leaves, perhaps, seemed to form and then disappear in the ghostly silence.
Where am I?

Daisy was stepping slowly as she descended a hill. Sophie’s arms and legs had gone numb hours ago. Too tired and cold to think, she slid off the horse into the snow.

Tired. She was so tired. Maybe if she took a little nap, she’d feel better. Not a long sleep; just a little nap.

Suddenly, Natives on horses surrounded her, yipping and shouting in a tongue she didn’t understand. One of them reached out and grabbed her braid, shaking the snow off it. He held his rifle in the air and shouted something.

She jerked away. He snatched her from the ground and into his arms as if she weighed no more than a gnat. “Sophie,” he whispered against her ear.

“S…S…Standing B-…Bear?”

“Come.” He jumped onto his pony and reached down for her. After settling her in front of him, he opened the buffalo robe he wore and wrapped her into its warmth. He spoke to his companions, and they moved on. He kneed his mount to follow, wrapped his arms around her, and pressed her against his chest. “Why are you here? Where’s Cam.”

Warmth, blessed warmth. “I’ve left Cam. A Pinkerton is after me. Will you protect me?”

Standing Bear grunted once, and they rode on.

“My horse?” She struggled to look behind her. She’d need Daisy after the storm.

“Little Wolf has her. Quiet now.” Between the gentle rocking of the horse and the warmth of the buffalo robe, Sophie’s eyes grew heavy.

****

By the time Veers, Cam, and Eli reached Deadwood, several inches of snow lay on the ground. Bitter winds whipped through their clothing. Eli had cried himself to sleep long ago, thank goodness. He kept crying for “Momma.”

After exchanging remarks about Sophie’s first husband, he and Veers fell into an uneasy silence. Veers swore Sophie had what he was after. In his heart, Cam was sure Sophie didn’t. Although there was that valise she’d never unpacked. That niggled at his gut. Why hadn’t she emptied the valise and put her clothes away in the dresser drawers or armoire?

Reality dawned and registered: because Amanda’s clothes were still there. Had she seen them? Is that what she meant in her note by the “house being full of her”? Over the last year he’d taken comfort in looking at Amanda’s things. He had often held them to his face and inhaled her lavender fragrance. A fragrance he was ready to replace with the rose smell of store-bought soap.
Sophie Catherine, I need you.