The two women looked at each other, then back at Callie.
“You sure about that?” the second woman asked.
“Sure as I am that if you don’t stay out of this, I’ll pull this trigger,” Callie answered the one she still held her rifle on. “If you happen to live, you’ll sure as hell never walk again, let alone entertain men.”
The woman dropped the pistols. “Hell, honey, we didn’t know what was going on. All we knew is your man came charging in here like a wild man after Luis. Luis didn’t have a gun, so he jumped him from behind. We managed to grab his guns and the fight was on.”
Callie nudged the rifle harder. “Go on outside where I can keep an eye on both of you!” she ordered.
“All right! All right!” the first woman answered, grimacing at the sight of the dead man still lying against the wall as they went out. Thunder and lightning crashed all around them, and rain came down in torrents. It was as though nature had let loose its anger in an effort to match Chris’s own anger as he and the Mexican wrestled wildly in an already-muddy street.
A few men gathered to watch the fight, and Callie felt sick at the sight of Chris’s bloodied face. The Mexican was no better off, but Callie could not imagine how Chris could fight at all, with his right side full of shotgun pellets, enough that he had to be bleeding badly. She knew it had to be pure, burning rage that fed his energies. In spite of his wounded hip, he managed to land a hard kick to the Mexican’s groin. The man buckled over. Chris reared back a hard fist then and smashed it into the Mexican’s nose. Callie winced at the splintering sound, and the Mexican flew backward, his nose literally flattened and bleeding profusely. He started to rise, then wilted back to the ground, completely out.
Callie eyed the rest of the men, while a panting, bleeding Chris stumbled toward her. “Anybody tries anything, he’s dead,” Callie warned the rest of the men. “That Mexican raped and killed my ma, along with the one called Penny and with Terrence Stowers. We came here to make them pay! There’s nobody else here we came to mess with, so go on about your business!”
A couple of them actually tipped their hats. “No quarrel, ma’am,” one of them said. “We’ve got no use for men who would do something like that. We’ll see that they’re buried.”
“There’s a dead man inside too, and you’ll find Terrence and one more down at Terrence’s tavern,” Callie added. “And one in back of the house. Penny.”
A couple of them chuckled and shook their heads, heading into the house to drag out the dead man. Another walked up to Luis, bending over to feel for a pulse.
“Luis is dead too,” he announced. “I don’t doubt that blow sent a bone into his brain.”
“Callie?” Chris panted her name as he stumbled toward her.
“I’m right here, Chris.” Callie dropped the rifle and hurried to him. He grabbed her tight against himself.
“Callie, are you…all right?”
“I’m okay. Just a nick on my leg. Nothing big. But you’re hurt bad, Chris!”
“I’ll be…all right.”
“Bring him inside,” one of the prostitutes told Callie. “We’ve treated all kinds of wounds, from bullets to knives. We’ll fix him up for you, honey.”
Callie figured she didn’t have much choice. Chris needed help—and fast. Both the prostitutes came to her aid, each taking a side to support Chris back into the house, while Callie picked up her rifle and hurried behind them, collecting Chris’s six-guns and rifle from the floor once she got inside. The prostitutes helped Chris into one of the bedrooms, straightening the blankets and letting him lie back on the bed.
“Heat some water,” one told the other. “I’ll get some gauze and some towels. And find the laudanum, Brenda.” The woman turned to Callie, putting an arm around her. “Don’t worry, honey. He’s young and strong. He’ll be fine after a few days.”
Callie leaned over Chris, who called her name again. “I’m right here, Chris,” she answered, her eyes tearing. “It’s done. We got them all. It’s done, Chris. We can go home now.”
He opened his eyes, and her heart ached at the sight of him. Her handsome Chris was a bloody, bruised, cut mess, but there was something in his eyes that made it all worth it, a look of peace.
“It’s over,” he told her. “It’s all…out of me.”
Callie leaned down and kissed his cheek. “I know, Chris. It’s out of me too. We’re gonna be okay, you and me.”
His eyes rolled back, and he slipped into unconsciousness for several minutes. Callie helped the other two women strip off his wet clothes, and through it all he muttered Callie’s name several times. Callie had to smile. This time he didn’t call for Val. He called for her.
Chapter Forty-two
Wearing an alpaca-lined, deep green velvet hooded cape over her elegant taffeta day dress, Callie shivered against the brisk, New England autumn wind as she knelt down to lay a large bouquet of flowers on Valery Mercy’s grave. She felt almost guilty for being lucky enough to now share the man who was once this woman’s husband. Her and Chris’s trip to this very somber place had been, by contrast, the most exciting time of her life, filled with fine dining, live theater entertainment, shopping at exclusive stores, and traveling throughout the East in an elegant private train car, a far cry from the kind of traveling they’d shared in their search for Terrence Stowers.
Christian Mercy was wealthier than she’d even realized when she married him, but it sure as heck wasn’t the money that mattered. She thought how she would have married him even if he were a pauper, for it was the man himself she loved, everything about him. And now she loved his family too.
Chris’s older brother, Joseph, was just as handsome as Chris, and his wife was gracious and accepting. Mary spent many hours with Callie, explaining the rules of dress and etiquette for her new social standing, both women laughing at how silly some of those rules were.
Joe and his family had at once made Callie feel welcome and comfortable, and they and their three children, ranging in age from seven years to twelve, had all been caring enough to accompany Chris to this place, realizing how hard this would be for him. The brothers’ reunion after so many years, knowing the horror Chris had been through, had been touching indeed, and after closing themselves off in Joe’s study for several hours, Chris had emerged looking like a man much more at peace.
Joe and Mary Mercy lived in a virtual mansion on Lake Michigan near Chicago, Joe now the president of a steel mill. But like Chris, he was down to earth and seemed totally unaffected by his wealth. Callie felt warmed by the fact that Joe seemed to enjoy her still rather unrefined attitude, and when she made his brother laugh, Callie could see pride and love in Chris’s eyes.
But for the moment there was no laughing. There was only this quiet moment at a grave that bore the name Valery Mercy, and beside it a stone reading Patricia Mercy, under that, “My Patty.”
Chris stared at the graves, and Callie thought how utterly handsome he looked wearing a silk suit and woolen overcoat, such a far cry from the Chris who wore six-guns and leather vests and dusty boots.
One thing Chris had refused to do when they came here was go back to the home he’d shared with his first family, the home where all the horror had taken place. He had no idea what had happened to it or its contents, figured the state had probably taken it over by then. Maybe it was just sitting and going to ruin. It didn’t matter. He could never step foot in it again.
Soon they would go home to Rawlins and build a new home, the fanciest house in Wyoming, Callie thought, at least by the way Chris described what he wanted to build for her. It all seemed so unreal, but the graves before them were very real. She laid another bouquet of flowers on Patty’s grave, then rose, grasping Chris’s hand.
He took a deep breath and swallowed before speaking. “I…uh…haven’t been back here since they were buried,” he told her. “I didn’t want to admit they were really gone. Fact is, I left right after prayers. I didn’t want to see my little Patty’s co
ffin being…lowered into the ground…all that sweetness…that bright smile…”
His voice broke, and Callie moved an arm around him. Joe stood on the other side of him and moved an arm around Chris’s shoulders.
“What you have to realize, Chris, is that your little girl has been with you every day since she lost her life,” Joe told him. “How in heck do you think you survived everything, especially all the times you’ve been shot at? You have a little angel watching over you, and she’s perfectly happy where she is.”
Chris wiped at silent tears and sniffed. “I told another little girl that once…just a little girl who rode a train with us and…uh…took a liking to me. I told her I had a little girl too…and that she was an angel now.”
“You know she is, Chris,” Callie told him.
He turned and folded her into his arms. “She was so little,” he whispered. She felt him tremble, and her hood fell back as he wept into her hair. Joe and Mary and their children, who Callie thought were remarkably well mannered, surrounded them, also embracing Chris, and it was several minutes before they were all able to let go. Chris pulled a linen handkerchief from a pocket inside his overcoat and wiped his eyes, then pulled Callie in front of him, facing the graves. He moved his arms around her.
“Thanks for coming here.”
“I’m glad we came, Chris. You made the right decision. You’ve come full circle, and now you can go on with something new. They would understand.”
He sighed deeply and they stood there several more minutes before finally turning away from the graves.
“Let’s go home,” Chris said, his voice strained. He put an arm around Callie, the other around Joe’s shoulders. “I expect you and the family to come to Rawlins sometime,” he told his brother. “You can take the train all the way out, so you have no excuses.”
“We will definitely do that. Let us know when your home is finished, and we will all come out and see it,” Joe answered. “Besides, it will be fun getting a look at the Wild West. Some of the stories you have told sound like the dime novels we read here in the East about what things are like out there. And the Outlaw Trail—you two sure have some memories to share.”
“I can’t believe how brave you are,” Mary told Callie. “Riding through wild country like that on horseback, wearing pants, shooting at outlaws!”
Callie smiled as they all climbed into the fancy three-seater carriage Joe had rented for them. “I had Chris with me,” she answered. “A woman can’t be much safer than that. You ought to see how fast he can whip out a gun and give a man what for. I reckon…I mean…I expect he’s as good as there is. Fact is, most outlaws must shake in their boots when they hear Christian Mercy is looking for them.”
Joe and Mary laughed, and Chris just shook his head. He sat down facing Callie, and they were off. After a few minutes Callie looked at Mary questioningly. Should she tell Chris the good news? Mary nodded.
“Now would be a good time, Callie,” Mary told her.
Chris frowned. “What’s she talking about?” he asked his wife.
Callie reddened a little and looked back at Mary. “You sure it’s okay to tell him in front of everybody?”
“Definitely,” Mary replied.
Callie took a deep breath and faced Chris. “Okay.” She reached out and took his hands. “I know this is true, because Mary and I talked about it, and she knows…and she took me to see her doctor back in Chicago before we left.”
“Her doctor? You okay?” Chris asked.
“I’m more than okay, Mr. Mercy. I am carrying a child…your child.”
Callie waited for his reaction. At first he showed quiet surprise, and then a look of absolute worship came into those blue eyes. “You’re really sure?”
“Yes, sir. I hope it’s a little girl. I’d like to give you another little girl, Chris. I mean, I want to give you sons too, but I’d be right happy if the first one was a girl. I’m so excited! A baby, Chris! You be sure to build plenty of bedrooms in that house we’re building, because we’ll need all of them. And I—”
“Callie!” he interrupted.
She frowned. “What?”
“I swear to God I never knew anybody who could talk so much during the most important moments of her life.”
Everybody laughed, and Callie thought about that first time they’d made love. Are you going to talk all the way through this? Chris had asked. Her eyes teared with happiness. “It’s mostly when I’m scared or nervous,” she explained. “I mean, heck, I’ve never had a baby before!”
Chris laughed more, leaning across to kiss her cheek and to whisper in her ear. “It’s kind of like that first time you make love—hurts like hell, but it’s damn well worth it.”
Callie laughed, glancing over his shoulder then at the gravesite. She drew in her breath but quickly covered her surprise, not wanting to upset Chris. He kissed her cheek again, and she smiled at him, deciding not to tell him what she’d just seen. She could swear that for one quick moment she saw a little girl standing by that grave, smiling and waving. She looked again, but the little girl was gone.
Across the gateway of my heart
I wrote, “No thoroughfare,”
But love came laughing by, and cried,
“I enter everywhere.”
—Herbert Shipman
Also by Rosanne Bittner
The Bride Series
Tennessee Bride
Texas Bride
Oregon Bride
Caress
Comanche Sunset
Heart’s Surrender
In the Shadow of the Mountains
Indian Summer
Lawless Love
Love’s Bounty
Rapture’s Gold
Shameless
Sweet Mountain Magic
Tame the Wild Wind
Tender Betrayal
The Forever Tree
Unforgettable
Until Tomorrow
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