Wild Is the Night (30 page)

We are married, I am his wife. The thought of that is dizzying, yet I know it would not be so if he hadn’t been forced. I don’t know what to do. I want to make him happy, but I don’t even know where to begin. Odd that I should be in this position! There was never a math equation that I couldn’t solve, though some of them took weeks, never a treatise I couldn’t conquer, and yet I know less about pleasing Luke than I do about the anatomy of an earthworm.

He was happy when I found the cattle today. For the first time since I’ve known him, he seemed to appreciate my mind, yet I do not think that is the way to reach him. I look at Aileen and Jake, and think it is so easy for her. Jake walks with his arm around her waist, she smiles at him while helping the women to cook. I can tell that he cannot wait to be with her each night, to leave the campfire to join her inside the privacy of their wagon. Why can’t I accomplish that?

He will divorce me when we get to Texas. He has sworn that, and yet the thought appalls me. Once we are in Waco, it will be too easy to just be friends or business partners. He will have the ranch, and I will have my books. For however long he is my husband, I must try to make him want me.

And time is running out.

Chapter
  
19
  

“Come on, boys, let’s get these dogies through before sundown.”

Pop Finnegan urged the McLafferty family through the rushing depths of the Canadian River. The prairie schooner bucked and wavered as the waters rammed into it, and the heavy canvas quickly became saturated from the river. The McLafferty children rode with the cowboys, their bodies tied to the saddles with rope to keep them from falling during the crossing, while the elder McLafferty struggled to get the wagon through to the opposite bank. One of the children cried out as a box detached from the side of the wagon and began a rapid descent downriver.

“My little pet! Papa, he’s going!” Timmy McLafferty cried as the box snagged onto a floating branch.

“I’ll get it,” Luke shouted, fishing out the box and tying it to his own horse. The little prairie dog inside rustled nervously as Luke’s horse pranced in the river, sidestepping loose twigs and debris that swirled around them. “Come on, next!”

Amanda sat on top of her horse, her eyes as wide as when she wore her glasses, her knuckles white from clenching the reins. She was still scared to death of the horse, and the endless miles of grey, slithering water didn’t help matters much. She glanced up at Luke. He was shouting orders to the wagon driving in front of her, balancing Timmy Lafferty’s box, and controlling the horse with just the pressure from his legs. He made it look so easy, and yet…

Amanda fought back tears. Luke had been preoccupied and distant, trying to get the wagons prepared for the crossing. He had readied their wagon, intending to drive it himself so that Amanda would not have that ordeal to contend with. He had crawled into the wagon late last night, and immediately fell asleep. Amanda had the faint impression that he was wet, that his coal-black hair had been slicked back, and that moisture gleamed from his chest before he crawled beneath the blankets. She dismissed the notion as ridiculous. Winter was approaching, and Luke certainly wasn’t crazy enough to go swimming in the river this time of year.

“Next!”

Amanda froze. They were calling to her. Numbly she flicked her reins, but the horse beneath her seemed to share her indecision and refused to budge. Luke glanced up, his face shadowed by the black Stetson he wore, his ankles wreathed in water. He was about to shout impatiently to her, but something in her face softened him. He seemed to remember her fears, and he urged his mount through the swirling water to the riverbank beside her.

“Come on, Amanda. You can do it. I know you can.”

She blushed furiously, hating her own weakness. She gave him a doubtful look, but he smiled encouragingly and waved her on. She kicked her horse, clamping her eyelids shut and trying desperately not to look at the brown waters swishing like coffee in the bottom of a tin cup. Luke called to her horse, urging the mare to cross the murky river depths and to follow the wagon just ahead. The mare, a stout chestnut that was used to following orders, leaped into the water and began the journey to the other side.

Amanda felt like she was going to throw up. She fought the rising bile in her throat as the horse plunged in deeper and the current swirled around them like a rattlesnake. She gave Luke a pleading look, but he continued to shout encouragements.

“We’re halfway there. I won’t leave you. You’re doing fine, Amanda!”

Terror was building inside of her. She could hear the roar of the waters, the sound of the cattle lowing in protest, the whinny of the horse beneath her as the river grew deeper. The waters crept up to her boots, threatening to pull her down into their murky depths, to keep her forever sealed beneath the earth in a mystical world of gently waving seaweed and turbulent shallows. Fighting the feeling of falling, she opened her eyes, held tightly to the reins, and refused to look at anything but Luke. He was just ahead, waiting for her, his black Stetson shading his face against the sun, making it appear shadowed and mysterious. His eyes seemed to warm her like two pale blue flames. His smile was genuine and compelling, urging her on the way no argument could.

Amanda took a deep breath, then gently tapped the horse’s flanks the way she’d seen the other riders do. The mare lurched forward, then picked her way among the stones, feeling for safe ground. Once the horse misstepped, and Amanda could feel the crunch of the gravel beneath and the huge animal’s wavering. For a horrified moment, she thought that the horse would lose balance and send her tumbling down into the river below. But the mare quickly regained footing, and resumed the dangerous steps once more.

“That’s great! You’re doing it!”

Amanda smiled back at Luke, then gasped in surprise as the horse lifted her legs and stepped gracefully out of the river and onto the soft mossy bank beyond. A breath left Amanda’s body in one loud whoosh as the realization struck her: she’d made it. She’d faced two of her worst fears, horses and water, and had triumphed.

“You did it!” Luke grabbed her in a bear-like hug, wrapping his buckskin-clad arms around her shoulders while still atop of his mount. Amanda flushed a brick red, but she was unbearably proud. Nothing could have meant more to her at that moment, not even an academic scholarship. Unless it was to Radcliffe.

“I did, didn’t I?” Amanda glanced back at the river, as if unable to believe that she hadn’t dreamed this.

“You damned well did, and as good as anyone. When we get to Texas, I’m buying you the best beef dinner you ever had.”

Amanda bit her lip, trying to suppress her enjoyment, but her eyes twinkled. She’d done it. She got the damned horse across one of the most virulent rivers in Oklahoma, and without a hitch. She wanted to giggle. Then her excitement dimmed as she thought of what he’d said.

Texas.

He’d be divorcing her soon.

Amanda forced the depressing thought aside, unable to bear the implication. For better or for worse, he was married to her now. And she would enjoy it for as long as she could.

Jake caught up with Luke after the others had crossed and the cattle were safely on the same bank. It had been a successful undertaking; they’d lost no one and had no injuries. The camp was in high hopes, with the Texas border close by and the fulfillment of dreams within arm’s grasp.

“It’s hard to believe we’ve only a few days now.” Jake broke the silence as they rode comfortably along for a mile or so.

Luke nodded in agreement. “All in all, it’s been a good trip. We’ve recovered most of the cattle, so all of the families can make a fresh start. The Herefords are in good shape, in spite of the stampede. We’ve only lost half a dozen head, but that’s to be expected.”

“We would have lost a lot more if not for Amanda,” Jake said gruffly. “Hard to believe that a little slip of a woman would have so big a brain.” Then, after a moment, “Aileen’s become quite attached to her, you know.”

“So I see.” Luke glanced at the former saloon girl and saw her riding in the wagon with Amanda. “I’m grateful for that. Amanda can use a good friend.”

“She’s glad to do it.” Jake cleared his throat, as if unable to decide how to verbalize his next words. “I understand how Aileen feels. I’ve come to admire Miss Edison myself. Neither one of us felt right about the way those holy folk forced you to wed. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to undo the thing the first chance you got.”

Luke gave Jake a searching look. “We talked about something of the sort.”

“I kinda thought so. Aileen said Amanda’s been sort of disturbed lately. I guess it would unsettle anyone, coming to a new place, alone, with a man for a husband who doesn’t want her. Is that your intention, then? To divorce her when we reach Waco?”

“I haven’t decided,” Luke said gruffly.

“It’s none of my business, except that if you do want to leave her, she can come live with us.” Ignoring Luke’s glance of amazement, Jake continued, looking straight ahead as his horse picked its way along the trail. “Aileen suggested it, and I’m agreeable if that’s the way things work out. A woman alone stands no chance where we’re headed.”

“She’s not alone,” Luke pointed out. “I’m sharing the ranch with her.”

“So I hear.” Jake gave him a second glance. “I understand you made a deal with the lady, for her protection. And that half the ranch was the bargaining price. Not that I have anything to say about that. Stranger contracts have been made along the Chisholm trail, and my relationship with Aileen wasn’t written in any beggar’s bible. But I just wanted you to know that there was an alternative, if you don’t want to stay with her.”

“I appreciate that,” Luke replied, wondering why he was annoyed. “But I feel protective of her at this point. Amanda is not like other women.”
Any other woman,
he amended to himself.

“I know.” Jake chuckled. “I heard about your clothes. It must be hell being tethered to a woman with the brains—” Then, abruptly, “Why do you think she has a price on her head?”

It was Luke’s turn to look startled. He was about to deny any such thing, but Jake shook his head.

“I was a lawman before I decided to come south. Haskwell doesn’t just send his men after anybody because it’s Tuesday and the newspaper wasn’t printed. That black Irishman’s got a good reason—a damned good reason—to want her dead.”

“I honestly don’t know,” Luke said, his brow furrowed in thought. It was a puzzle he’d been trying to figure out for days. “Amanda doesn’t know either. They started attacking her on board the train west, and haven’t let up since. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. Amanda’s never been anywhere, never done anything, doesn’t have any jewels, clothes, or anything an outlaw could sell. Unless she has something valuable that she doesn’t know about.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Jake said gruffly. “A man will track his victim this long only if his life is threatened. Especially Haskwell. He’s a gambler and investor, and will kill when cornered, but he knows better than to go looking for trouble. Do you remember the Haines murder about five years back?”

Luke’s hand tightened on the leather reins. “When that sheriff was shot in cold blood, and they couldn’t find the witness?”

Jake nodded, then wiped his mouth with his buckskin jacket. He took a flask from his pocket, pulled the cork out with his teeth, then took a long drink before offering the bottle to the younger man riding beside him.