Barclay

by Charlene Raddon

  "Yours?"

  "That's right. I had my time with their mother. I'm as likely to be their old man as any of the other members of the gang."

  "You were one of the men who raped her," she said, a statement rather than a question.

  Dirk laughed. She hated the cruel, guttural sound of it, with no humor, only conceit and self-righteousness. The rat. The notion of him being the babies' father disgusted her but didn't diminish her love for them.

  Cynara had never believed in the theory of “bad seed” causing people to do wrong, but Dirk made her wonder. No. Her babies had no bad seed.

  The day streamed past like a locomotive. The sun began its downward swing, and Dirk showed no signs of stopping. She kept expecting the babies to wake up and demand feeding. Poor little tykes. A trip like this was a horrible thing to do to them.

  "Dirk, I'm tired," she called to him.

  "So am I. We'll be there soon."

  "Where?"

  "Where we're going."

  She opened her mouth then shut it. He wouldn't answer. What did he fear she'd do, wire the marshal in the next town? How she'd love to, if she had a telegraph machine. "I'm hungry, too, Dirk."

  "So am I. You wanta suckle me?" He gave a raucous laugh.

  Cynara glowered at his back and thought about what a disgusting man he was. Threads fluttered from the seams of his ratty vest, the cuffs on his shirt were frayed, the garment filthy and old.

  The sound of horses up ahead yanked her from her reverie. Dirk motioned for her to move off the road into the trees, the same way he’d done every other time they'd met someone on the road. Cynara prayed to hear horses coming behind them and Barclay's voice calling her name.

  Was his shoulder healing all right? Her worry for him increased with each mile they traveled.

  Did he miss her? Was he worried about her? Right now, he could be coming after her. He wouldn’t let being wounded stop him.

  The sun vanished in a burst of color that filled the western sky. Cynara's hopes for rescue all but died. Then she saw dim lights through the trees. A town lay ahead. Would he circle around it? Please, please stop.

  Dirk slowed. Not knowing whether he meant for her to do so as well, she rode alongside him.

  He nodded toward the town. "That's where we're headed. You behave now if you want to keep these brats alive. I'd like to be able to ransom all of them, but only one would still work"

  "I'll behave, especially if it means we can stop and rest."

  "We'll be stopping all right. Haven’t decided where yet."

  He rode on ahead. She didn't mind. She preferred her own company over his. Even a skunk would be an improvement, though she wasn't sure about the smell.

  Keeping her eyes open had become a challenge she dearly wanted to lose. The babies would wake soon and need feeding and changing. She doubted she'd have the strength to do as good a job as they deserved. Barclay, where are you?

  "Hey!" A hand came out of the darkness and grabbed her reins. Cynara jerked up, realizing she must have fallen asleep.

  "Where do you think you're going?" Dirk demanded. "You nearly rode past me and off the road."

  "Sorry."

  "You better be. You do that again and you'll be wishing you were dead. Understand me?"

  "I fell asleep, Dirk." She realized then they had reached the town. Houses lined one side of the street, businesses the other.

  Dirk led the way up a side street to an area occupied entirely by homes. Beautiful, well-built houses. "This here is where we're going." He pointed to a three-story Victorian home painted in blues and gold.

  No light showed in the windows. "I don't think they're home."

  "I don't want them to be home," he said. "Not yet anyway. I'm going to look for a way in. Follow me."

  He rode around the house and stopped in the back yard. Cynara reined in behind him.

  "You're going to break in?" she asked.

  "Damn straight. Stay here."

  She dismounted and checked the babies, changing a diaper in her lap since there was nowhere else to go.

  Dirk returned through the back door faster than anticipated. He lifted Vella from her bed. "Come on. Take this little one and I'll get the others."

  “Don’t touch them,” she spat. “I’ll carry them in myself.”

  “Suit yourself.” He raised his hands in the air and walked away.

  When she finished, she entered the house. It had been closed up, with curtains drawn shut, dust sheets over the furniture. "Dirk, these people aren't coming back anytime soon. The house has been winterized."

  "Yeah? How do you know?"

  "See the dust cloths on the furniture and the rags stuffed under the outside doors to keep the cold out?" She put the babies on the sofa and faced him with her hands on her hips. "We could wait here until summer. Maybe then they'll return. In the meantime, what do we eat? How do we keep folks from knowing we're here?"

  "They've got a cellar," he said. "Probably have bottled goods down there."

  She threw her arms in the air in a wild gesture of helplessness. "Wonderful. What a good provider you are."

  The next thing she knew, he spun her around and smacked her in the face with his open palm. Gasping, she clamped a hand to her stinging cheek and stared at him. "How dare you?"

  He poked a finger at her nose. "I'll dare a lot more if'n I hear more sass out of you."

  "You struck me."

  "And don't you forget it, lady, 'cause I'd be glad to do it again."

  His raised voice woke the babies. All three wailed at the same time.

  Dirk pointed at them. "Take care of them and make sure they keep quiet."

  She settled on the couch and began feeding them. Hours seemed to pass before they grew quiet again. If Dirk threatened her one more time, she thought surely she'd explode, and no good could come from that.

  "Do you think Dirk took them?" Jared asked, trotting up the road on his horse with Barclay alongside.

  "I don't know what to think. Probably. I just hope they're all right. If anything happens to them…"

  "Yeah, I feel the same way. I didn't coo at Gage or play with him the way Chase did with Vella, but I cared about the little guy."

  "We all did," Barclay said.

  "You’re sweet on Cynara, aren’t you?"

  Barclay glanced at his brother, looking for any signs of censure. He saw only understanding. "I never meant to, but God help me, I think I may have fallen in love with her, Jared."

  "We'd better get her back then. Better get them all back. You sure you're up to it?" Jared pierced him with a discerning look.

  "I'm fine. I have the laudanum Doc gave me. I don't need it unless the pain becomes too unbearable, and it hasn’t been that bad yet, but at least I have it."

  "If you start feeling too bad, you be honest with me. Don't try to play the hero."

  "I'm not worried about being a hero," Barclay said. "I just want Cynara and the babies back."

  "Let's go then."

  The tracks followed the ranch drive which dead-ended at the main road that went East to Cutthroat, North to Hawkville, and West to Pony. Unfortunately, this road was well traveled, and the tracks blended with numerous others. Barclay and Jared moved at a snail's pace, Jared often dismounting to study the rutted earth.

  "I'd say they're headed for Hawkville," Jared said after a frustrating hour of searching.

  "I'm not sure." Barclay gazed off into the distance as if he expected to see a woman traveling with three babies. "They could be bound for Pony. What do we do, go to each town and hope to see them on the road?"

  "That would be one way to do it. It would help if we knew for sure who Cynara was with. If it's Dirk, though…" Jared shook his head. "He's one of those men who's from all over. Who knows where he'd take her and the babies?"

  Barclay rested his forearms on the pommel. "I think it's more important to figure out why he took them. What good could Cynara and the triplets possibly do him?"

  "Maybe he's
one of the outlaws who held Minnie and he believes the babies might be his." Jared rolled a cigarette and lit up. "Trouble is, the outlaws are all in prison."

  "Not all." Barclay hesitated. His brother could be onto something. "Remember the guard Minnie and the other girl knocked out to get away?"

  "That's right. Maybe Dirk was the guard, and he's looking to get even." Tobacco smoke drifted from Jared's mouth as he spoke.

  Barclay lifted his brows. "By taking the babies?"

  "What if Minnie contacted him after she left and asked him to get them for her?"

  "Why? She could have taken them with her if she'd wanted them."

  Jared offered Barclay the cigarette. "True. You hired Dirk the day after she disappeared."

  Barclay declined the cigarette. He could tell the smoke bothered Cynara, so he'd decided to quit. "Unless he knew where she was and waited for her."

  Jared put out the cigarette on his saddle and tucked the butt into his vest pocket. "It makes no sense. Maybe Dirk plans on forcing Minnie to accept the triplets and be a mother to them."

  As they talked, they continued up the lane, until Barclay stopped. "Look, here's the mule's track again. They definitely came this way."

  "Hawkville is his goal then. Let's see if we can catch them."

  They traveled faster after that, until they came around a curve and saw Hawkville in the valley below. Side by side, they sat their horses and studied the road, the terrain and the town.

  "Barclay, you haven't said anything about the possibility that Cynara went with Dirk willingly. You know that's possible, don't you?"

  "It might be possible, brother, but it's terribly unlikely. Every time she saw Dirk, she recoiled. I believe she was afraid of him."

  "Never noticed that," Jared said.

  Barclay laughed. "You're not as observant as me. I think, chances are, Dirk took her along to take care of the babies. Or she insisted on going. You know she wouldn't let those children out of her sight if she could help it."

  "You're right there." Jared gestured toward the town. "You want to just ride in there, or should we wait until dark and try to see what we're up against?"

  Barclay considered the question. "I don't want to simply ride in like we're announcing ourselves, but I'd rather not wait until dark either.”

  “Why don’t we use back streets and slip into a café for something to eat. I'm starved."

  Barclay frowned. "I’m not hungry. I’d rather keep going.”

  “Barc, you need food to keep up your strength."

  Barclay knew his brother was right but sat there for a long moment looking and thinking. "I sure hope wherever Cynara is, she's okay and not suffering. The babies too. If Dirk or whoever it is touches one hair on their heads…"

  "Chase and I will hold him down for you."

  A dog barked as they rode along a back road, watching for a café. Not having signs at the rear of the buildings made it difficult to know what businesses they housed. After two blocks they came to a building with a pile of mostly edible garbage near its back door where cats and dogs mined for their supper. A foul stink issued from the pile, but the smell of baked biscuits, fried onions and cabbage drifted out from inside the building.

  "This looks promising," Jared said. "Must be a café."

  Barclay nodded. "If you trust the judgement of cats and dogs, food must be good."

  Jared laughed.

  The two brothers ignored the animals, moved to the next building and dismounted. Using the alley alongside the café, they crept up to Main. Seeing nothing threatening, they climbed onto the boardwalk and peeked in the window. Customers occupied only two tables.

  "I'm hungry enough to risk it," Jared said. "What about you?"

  "Let's go."

  They chose a table halfway hidden by the wall but still affording a good view of the street. A waiter brought them coffee and directed their attention to the chalkboard above the counter which gave the menu. Both chose basic fare—steak, beans and biscuits. While they waited, they surveyed the street. On a slight hill beyond two business streets rose an assortment of elegant homes—the wealthier neighborhood of town.

  Their meals had barely arrived when Jared poked his brother's arm. "Look."

  Barclay turned in the direction his brother indicated. "What?"

  "The house with the turret and cupola on the hill. It has a big yard."

  "And a mule! Old Glory," Barclay murmured. "What do you know?" Their missing pack mule grazed the lawn to the side of a fancy house. "I believe we've found Dirk and Cynara."

  In the next instant, he was out of his chair and tossing money on the table. Jared grabbed a large last bite of steak and followed as his brother left the café.

  “You’ve decided it’s definitely Dirk we’re hunting for then?” Jared asked, helping Barclay mount up.

  “It seems to make sense. He’s missing. She’s missing. Who else could it be?”

  “I agree.” Jared jumped into his saddle and followed Barclay. "Dirk could have sold the mule."

  "Why would someone with that kind of money want a mule? Unless the owner's wealth came from mining and he’s a sentimental fool. I just hope he didn't include the triplets in the sale. There are people unable to have their own babies who'd pay a fortune for one."

  Chapter Sixteen

  T he furniture in the Victorian home testified to the owner's wealth. Cynara saw Chippendale, Queen Ann, and Heppelwhite. Everything said money. Marble and stone fireplaces. Tufted back sofas and chairs. Hardwood floors. Aubusson carpets. Stained glass windows. Paneled walls. Family portraits everywhere.

  Dirk had unsaddled the mule and brought the pack sacks inside, depositing them and their precious load on the floor of a sitting room at the front of the house, then walking away despite their desperate tears. The poor babies were frightened. Cynara quickly checked them. Seeing their sweet faces gazing up from their swaddling wrenched her heart. What would happen to them? What were Dirk's intentions? And what part would the owners of this house play in his plans?

  "Who lives here, Dirk?" she asked as she changed a diaper.

  "Let's simply say those brats you worry so much about belong here." He threw open a cupboard and rummaged through the contents, uncaring of the mess he made or the damage he caused. He repeated the action with other shelves and cabinets. Books, trinkets and photographs soon littered the carpets and hardwood flooring.

  Horrified, Cynara watched. "What do you mean, the babies belong here?"

  "It's owned by their grandparents."

  She gasped. "How do you know that?"

  "I stumbled onto it when I was searching for the little witch who birthed them." His laughter held cruelty. "When the grandparents return, I'll make them pay handsomely for the brats."

  He ceased his wandering and picked up a framed photograph from atop a pianoforte. "There you are. I knew I'd guessed right."

  Cynara glimpsed a pretty young girl before he laid the frame face down and grabbed her hand. "Come on. We're going upstairs."

  Panic caused a surge of blood through her veins. Why did he want her upstairs where the bedrooms were? Had she finally come to the moment he decided to ravage her? "What about the babies? I'm not going anywhere without them."

  "Good hell. The babies are fine."

  "They're hungry. Don't you hear them fussing? Soon they'll be squalling loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Is that what you want?"

  He grabbed her and yanked on her arm, wrenching it. She fought back, using her fingernails on his hand to make him release her.

  "The nearest house is a hundred yards away," he argued. "No one will hear them at that distance. Now, stop fighting me or you're going to be hurt." He latched onto her wrist and yanked.

  Cynara dug in her heels. The man disgusted her. On the outside, he looked like a woman's dream. Inside, he was ugly as a dead cow. The thought of being raped by him sickened her. "The sidewalk is only forty feet away, and if you touch me… I promise, I'll find a way to kill you."
>
  He laughed. "Honey, I know lots of ways to touch you that you'd enjoy the hell out of." He glanced at the window as a young couple strolled past. "But you're right about the noise."

  Marching over to the babies, he picked up the large canvas bags and hooked the connecting strap around his neck, not even looking at their adorable faces visible at the top. "Now, are you coming?

  "I'll bring the lamp."

  His eyes narrowed in warning.

  "I wouldn't do anything that would put those babies at risk," she said.

  His face cleared as he relaxed, and he nodded.

  The strong need to be with the triplets drove her, lamp in hand, up the curving staircase with its elegantly carved balustrade, in his wake. He hurried from room to room, ransacking everything. Some treasures he tucked into the diapers and bedding used to pad the bags and protect the babies.

  Cynara's heart leaped into her throat when he slipped a silver picture frame inside. "Wait! You can't put anything in there. The babies could hit their heads on it and be hurt. Killed even."

  "Here." He brought an armful of trinkets, jewelry, fancy little boxes, brass candlesticks, silver accessories to her. "Pull up your skirt to create a hollow. Don't let go."

  He piled the loot into her skirt, then looked for more.

  To have the babies hanging around Dirk's neck and hampering his movements eased Cynara's fear of being raped. She enjoyed hearing him mutter and curse because of the inconvenience. Of course, he could put them down.

  Connor opened his tiny mouth and bawled. Instantly, Gage and Vella joined in.

  "Confound it!" Dirk muttered. "Take these damned brats and nurse them, will you?"

  She'd love to. The crying caused her milk to come in and it was staining her dress bodice. She jiggled her skirt, causing metal to clink. "What about your loot?"'

  He stared at her, his gaze focused on her bosom and she watched his lust change to disgust. "Is that milk soaking through?"

  "Yes. And I'm in a lot of pain. Now take this and let me start nursing them."

  He glanced around, went to the bed and stripped the cover from a pillow. "Put them in here. And stop being so damned sassy. You don't want any of these kids hurt, do you?"