Marrying Minda

by Tanya Hanson

Minda closed her eyes to the unimaginable. His lifeless body might have been brought to shore by the current. She misstepped. Her shoe caught between two roots and she bobbled slightly, twisting her ankle.

  “Mama. Are you all right? You can lean on me if you must.”

  She shook off the twinge. “No, I'm fine. I think I need to head lower to the water's edge. There are tangled roots. He could be stuck.”

  “I'll come too.”

  “No, Firefly. You look in the brambles here.” She didn't dare mention the quicksand.

  “That's chokecherry. Makes good jam. Neddie likes it.”

  “Ned? It's Minda. Can you hear me?”

  * * * *

  He'd paddled, waded and swum for likely a mile, maybe more, longing to find the boy clinging to roots or grabbing onto cattails. His shoulders ached with a hopelessness he'd never felt ever before.

  Not even, he thought bitterly, when he'd taken on a family he didn't want. Scrambling up the bank, Brix gasped for air and grunted in pain. His bare foot met a thistle he'd known about since childhood and should have watched out for.

  The fish-hook shaped barb had already found its way inside his arch.

  Hell, it wasn't anything he couldn't dig out later. He had better things to tend to now. But even with the heat of the day, he shivered inside his wet clothes and struggled to find a last bit of hope.

  Likely Ned had washed all the way to the Platte by now. It wouldn't take anything at all to move a little lad so quick and far.

  And hell, quicksand might have swallowed him whole.

  Well, not exactly. But the fearsome bog could trap a kid as tiny as Ned, hold him under until the river did its final damage.

  Damn, why hadn't Minda watched him better? Why hadn't he taught Ned to swim stronger?

  Brix's veins pumped hard but without power. He figured he might have died himself and gone to hell. He hadn't wanted to take on the kids, but he might have tried to be more of a pa. Most times, Brixton Haynes took on any job the best he could even if he didn't like the task. Else he'd never have reached inside a troubled cow to relieve her of a tangled calf.

  Or sucked snake poison from a cowpoke's filthy leg. Or bartered his last half-eagles for safe passage for the pitiful remnants of a Kiowa tribe.

  “I should have played with you, boy.” Thorn or not, he got to his feet, regret taking over his grief. “What kind of man don't play tag with a kid when he asks? Come on, little fella. Talk to me.”

  Brix forced his knees to stand him up. Damn, his brother hardly dead a week, and Brix had another grave to dig.

  If they found Ned at all, that is. The little boy's body might become a feast for the fishes. Hell, the coyotes and bobcats along the river were hungry, too.

  These nightmares darkened the daylight around him, but Brix shook closed his aching imagination. Like it or not, he was head of a family now and might as well act like it. Might as well head back to the wagon and tend to Katie.

  Even Minda. Whether he wanted it so or not, she was his wife, despite her carelessness and uppity ways.

  How had they all enjoyed a picnic barely an hour ago?

  Nothing but the river made sounds now, not the meadowlarks or bobolinks or the frogs. Not even the chatter of prairie dogs or the whisper of a grasshopper. Maybe the heat of the day had baked them into submission.

  But sometimes that meant a human had come by, startling Mother Nature into silence. It could mean himself.

  But it could also mean the boy.

  He dared to let hope seep into his bones. He made his feet land light along the undergrowth of switchgrass and prairie clover. A blooming jack-in-the-pulpit had the gall to cheer him.

  Gracey'd taken to calling them jake-in-the-pulpits, after her husband.

  Well, Brix didn't go easily into defeat and would himself die fighting the light.

  “Ned? Neddie-boy, can you hear me? It's Uncle Brix. Let me know, boy.” The lad might be wounded, stuffed under a root cave, maybe unable to call out.

  He moved along sand bar willows, poking under chokecherry brush, poison oak and ivy too, but damn, he didn't care. His arms reached into any type of hidey-hole he could find.

  “Come on, Neddie. I got more stories to tell about that magic cow. Yep, I know Katie likes her, too, but she's busy with that new pink hat. You and me, we got things to do.”

  Finally he gave in to the only choice he had left, besides praying, which he was none too good at. The lullaby Neddie liked came from Brix's throat in a harsh way that meant he might have swallowed a tear or two.

  For not even when he was alone did Brixton Haynes give in to weeping.

  He rounded the bend and saw Jake up ahead. His friend's stern face indicated there was no good news to report.

  Jake shook his head. Brix's insides tangled up right. “Gracey went to get help right away. Upriver is probably already crawling with folks.”

  But Brix wasn't giving up, not yet, at least.

  “I got some hope left, Jake,” Brix said. “Might be foolish, but Norman Dale's already got one of his boys with him in heaven. Just don't think it's Neddie's time.”

  “I like to think so. But Brix, I've lost a child. It can be difficult to accept. If you need a friend...”

  “Last I heard, you are my friend, Jake. And I haven't lost a child. Better believe it.” Brix grunted. “Why the hell aren't you yammering about how miracles happen? Now get moving.”

  Even under Jake's prying eye, he started up his lullaby, then stopped after every refrain and listened, cautious.

  Jake opened his mouth, but Brix hushed him. “Get your silent prayers going and listen up.”

  For a second, the river seemed to hold its breath, like the wind blew against it and stopped it up.

  In the brief space of silence, Brix sure as hell heard sniffles and sobs coming from a stand of tallgrass higher than any small boy. Mule deer and jack bunnies didn't make any sound like that.

  “Ned? Ned? Here I am. It's Uncle Brix. Are you hurt? Let me know. Reverend's with me, too.”

  Time lasted forever. And at the end of it, he heard the tiny voice, and a little hand reached through the stalks.

  Like Brix had wings on his feet, he was there, kneeling down and pulling the boy gently from the thick grass. Ned hiccupped with sobs that had gone on far too long.

  “You all right?” Brix didn't see any blood or awkward limbs. And Ned wasn't soaked. At least he hadn't tumbled into the river to fear water forever after. Sending up his own silent prayer of thanks, Brix crushed the boy close. “Neddie, we been powerful worried. Now, let me know what this is about.”

  “You scared us silly, little man.” Jake tussled Ned's hair. “Brix, I'll run along ahead and tell everyone you're both safe and sound.”

  Brix held Ned, drinking in the sight of him.

  “Uncle Brix, I tripped and drowned my doggie.” Ned gulped. His face was lined with muddy tears. “I didn't mean to. It was on accident.”

  “Sure, boy. You loved that thing pure and simple. Minda won't mind, I can promise you.”

  And she wouldn't mind, not at all. Brix knew that. Even forced to it, she'd been a real good ma to kids she barely even knew. At least that part of Norman Dale's plan had come true. Now that Ned was safe, Minda would likely smother him to death to make up for not watching over him today.

  Neddie nodded, dripping sniffles down his cheeks. “I know that. I knew she could dry it on the clothesline. And fold it up again with those ribbons. Katie showed me some pretty ones she has. But I dropped my whistle, too. It floated off.”

  Ned's tiny shoulders shook with new sobs. “I tried to follow it, but it went far away.”

  Whatever beat inside Brix's chest melted. He rubbed the boy's back. “Well, making you another whistle won't take any time at all, Neddie. Won't bother me a bit. But why are you hiding? You hurt?”

  Ned shook his head and jammed his thumb in his mouth. It was a babyish habit Brix had never noticed before.

  Then Brix understo
od. He read it in the boy's eyes, read it clear as the first time he'd ciphered alphabet words in front of a schoolmarm. Ned was hiding in fear, not in shame for spoiling his toys.

  Had he seen a wolf?

  “Ned, tell me. What did you see? What scared you?”

  The boy shivered against him. Even with his own wet clothes, Brix figured his arms warmed Ned somewhat. For a second, he hummed the lullaby again to comfort Ned. “Bobcats and coyotes? A wolf maybe?”

  Ned removed his thumb and tightened his grubby hand around Brix's index finger. He liked the feeling.

  “No. It wasn't that, Uncle Brix. It wasn't a wild critter at all.”

  “What then? You can tell me. I'm here now. Keep you safe.” For the first time ever, his lips touched the boy's hair.

  “The outlaws,” Ned whispered, closing his eyes against the memory. “More than my fingers. They wore masks. I hid.”

  All Brix's aches vanished. Blood pumped fast and furious in his veins, and words came tight off his tongue. “Come on, Ned. Sit on my shoulders. Let's go find my boots.”

  He tried not to let Ned know, but his skin crawled so fast it almost left his bones. The devil himself, in the form of Ahab Perkins, had arrived in Paradise.

  * * * *

  “Sheriff Pelton, ma'am.” The lawman's horse had stopped on a dime when he came upon her and Katie investigating the riverbank. They were almost back to where they'd started, but Minda wasn't about to give up or slow down.

  However, she did want a short break for Katie. The girl's skin was pink and clammy, and Minda feared a state of shock coming on.

  Did Brixton have a riverside cure for that?

  “Minda Haynes,” she said, surprised at the firmness of her voice. She'd grown nearly hoarse calling for Ned.

  He tipped his hat. “My deputy's sending wires downriver so those towns keep watch for Ned.”

  “Thank you, sir.” The arrival of searchers from town was a good thing, but at the sheriff's words, hopelessness all but crushed her bones. Ned was too little to hike miles and miles to other towns. Of course, the sheriff meant it was his body they'd keep watch for.

  Or maybe they'd be keeping an eye for Brixton's, too? She choked on a tear.

  “Call me Bob. We brought equipment in case we need to drag the river. But don't you worry, Miz Haynes. We got no reason to suspect he's not just wandering the river bed. Kids like to explore. Turtles, frogs. Maybe made a fishing pole out of a branch.”

  Minda considered the possibility. Ned might still have the cords she'd used to make his toy dog. But no. He would have stayed close by. And he'd have wanted the Satterburg boys and his sister along.

  He would have heard folks calling out his name.

  Besides, he would never have left her. Of that she was sure.

  “Maybe he had a tiff with his sister and ran away in a bit of temper?” Bob said.

  “We did no such thing, Sheriff,” Katie said, indignant, breaking into fresh tears.

  Minda kept her voice as light as she could, without censure. Without losing control.

  “Sheriff, thank you for coming so quickly. Hopefully we'll have some good news soon.” Minda hated the reality that the news might be bad. She had a great deal to lose right now.

  But Minda wasn't the only one suffering. Katie's stricken face and shaking hands were hard to endure. How much more suffering would the little girl have to bear?

  The peaceful picnic area had come to life with an awful tension. Men had crossed the bridge a half-mile away and both sides of the river teemed with searchers bound for the missing little boy who had captured her heart.

  She held Katie close. “Firefly, I think you need to rest. But I'd like to look a little more. Let's settle you in the back of the wagon for a while.”

  “I want to still look, too.”

  “You've done your best.” Minda kissed her cheek as the little girl sagged against her.

  Suddenly, Minda heard Jake's voice resonating through the trees and calling out news as good as a gospel. “He's all right. He's all right.”

  The sheriff let out a whoop.

  “Thank you, God.” Minda's heart pumped with new vigor along with her prayer, and Katie came to new life. “Now you wait for me in the wagon, all right?”

  Minda ran toward the reverend as he rounded a copse of trees.

  “Jake? He's all right? You're sure?”

  The reverend gave her a friendly embrace, eyes twinkling, and caught his breath. “Which one are you asking about?”

  “Both, of course.” Minda hugged her arms around herself, longing for Brixton there. Not just the little boy, but the man had stolen her heart, too.

  “Brix found Neddie, and he's fine.” Jake breathed. “Really fine. They both are. I came ahead to let you know, but they can't be far behind me. Brix might have needed a space of time to sort things out with Ned, but he can walk through fire, you know.”

  “Then I'm off to meet him. Tend Katie, please.” She had to see them with her own eyes.

  Hold them in her own arms.

  It wouldn't matter if her husband slept outside tonight. She needed this moment with him now.

  Some of the searchers followed behind her through the trees, and with joy, she first saw Neddie's head bobbing over a rolling knoll ahead, then Brixton's under it. The boy was perched on his shoulders. Brixton had grabbed the little legs that hung down his chest and ran quickly as he could.

  The crowd cheered.

  “Oh Neddie, sweetheart. Brixton, I've been so worried. So scared.” She let the prairie wind carry her words to his ears. Her arms were spread wide.

  They met at the smooth bottom of the knoll. After Brix stopped and balanced himself and Ned, she held her arms wider yet.

  “Been worried myself, Miz Haynes,” Brixton mumbled, thrusting Neddie into her waiting embrace.

  She grabbed Neddie so hard he groaned. When the boy finally struggled for the ground, she reached for Brixton and held him just as hard against her, and he let her, his chest hot against her cheeks.

  “I am so glad to see you both.” She placed one hand on either side of Brixton's face and rose on her toes to kiss him.

  He clasped her hard against him, his mouth closing over hers. She parted her lips, taking inside his tongue like she had his manhood. The memories throbbed in her heart and lower, deep down, reminding her she was a woman.

  Then he pushed her away, like she'd touched something she shouldn't. Her cheeks burned. But before he nodded to the cheering onlookers, she caught a brief look of regret in his eyes. And she understood completely. He wasn't hers to have.

  Then Neddie called out one single word that silenced the good people of Paradise.

  “Outlaws.”

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  Chapter Eleven

  “Aha. Perkins at last.” Sheriff Pelton nodded, resolute. “Now all of you skeedaddle back home. The boy's found now. Go get your stock under lock and key.”

  Like the Baptizer, Bob Pelton waved his arms over those gathered at the river. Faces of folks celebrating Ned's safe return now crumpled with worry.

  “Gang's likely to split up in two's or three's to save time. Hit more places. Now, get,” the sheriff yelled.

  “Sure enough, Bob. Hurry up, Miz Haynes.” Brix shook away his worry and desire. After all, he had a gun and had taught Minda well. He looked down at her blushing face, and those eyes that didn't meet his. He didn't dare let folks around here think that kiss meant anything at all, that he was some kind of happily married man.

  Still, he couldn't deny liking her touch when he took her hand and pulled her toward the wagon.

  “Hurry yourself up.”

  “I am hurrying,” she said, prim, pulling her hand away. Stubborn, he grabbed it back.

  He reckoned he'd shamed her, breaking off that kiss. Hell, he'd like nothing better than to clamp himself against those bosoms. But despite those eager lips and the secrets below that only he had uncovered, he rem
inded himself that he couldn't have her. Just a few more days and he'd be gone.

  And he had a heap of things to do in the meantime.

  “Well, hurry up some more. I got wheat to thresh yet.”

  “We should thank everyone for helping,” she said, pulling her hand away again. Her swishing sent that aroma of roses to ease the stench of his soggy clothes. He admitted he enjoyed it. It would be a good thing to recall on the trail when his nose was weary of manure and sweat

  “They know already.” He grabbed her hand. “They're in a rush, too.”

  “Why are you limping? Are you hurt?”

  Brix declined to explain the thorn he'd stepped on. Right now, all he wanted was to enjoy her fingers wrapped in his so he could recall that night when they'd closed hot and firm around his cock.

  At the wagon, Katie turned spunky as hell at seeing her brother, and Brix tugged her braid. Forever after, he'd think of her each time he twisted new rawhide strips into a lariat. He settled Ned and tucked the picnic blanket around him. The boy's fear had caught up, and he was shivering.

  Moisture started up behind Brix's eyelids, and his heart did a funny pitter, hurt a bit. He'd downright miss the kids.

  Jake came over with a big smile and troubled eyes. “We'll have special petitions come Sunday for Ned's safe return. Delmar and Geraldine Hackett are giving me a ride back to town. I think it best that we keep Silly overnight with us. No need for anyone to be out and about extra right now, with hooligans on the loose.”

  Along Brix's shoulders, fear kicked him like little Ned's legs had done just moments ago. Perkins was getting closer and meaner. Brix had to do anything he could to keep the kids safe.

  “All right by me, if my wife doesn't mind,” Brix said, giving Minda a cautious look. Sure as hell she'd set to complaining about such a transaction. Once upon a time, Gracey had wanted to pilfer the baby.

  Instead, he caught a smile that surprised him and made a manly thing happen inside his trousers. Strange how sweet the word wife had sounded on his tongue.

  “No, I don't mind at all, Jake,” Minda said. “As a matter of fact, I think Gracey would like it a great deal. Please tell her I'll be by to get Priscilla tomorrow when I run errands. If it's safe, of course. We can discuss our hats.”