by Hebby Roman
He got up and came around the desk, pulling her into his arms. “You can’t go, Mallory, we’ll figure something out.” He smoothed the feathery tendrils of hair around her face, while wishing he could see her hair spilling over her shoulders.
She lifted her red-splotched face and asked, “Have you forgiven me?”
“I forgave you before you told me Calhoun forced you.”
“Then you… you…?”
“It’s not so simple. Your son is coming. We’ll have to explain. You saw what happened today. Perhaps, your idea of a war widow isn’t such a bad notion. And we’ll need to let everyone know we’re getting married.”
“More lies then?”
He sighed. “I don’t like it, either, but…”
“It’s kind of you, Will, but I think your initial reaction was the right one. How will you know if you can trust me? And later, after the first flush of desire, all that might be left is pity.” She licked her lips again.
He wanted to lick her dusky-rose lips and then taste her fully, as he had last night.
“I don’t want to live with a sword hanging over my head, wondering if you… if you…” She stepped back and turned toward the door. “I’ll suspend school, and as soon as my son arrives, we’ll go. Find someplace new to settle and—”
“Give it some time, will you? Are you sure? Think it over, Mallory.”
“All right.” She nodded. “I have plenty of time to think. I have to wait for my son.” She took out a handkerchief and blew her nose. “Would you like to see a photograph of him?”
“Yes, I would.”
She pulled a dog-eared photograph from her apron pocket and handed it to him.
He gazed at the photograph for a long time, searching for Mallory’s features. He handed it back. “He’s a handsome lad. He has your chin and the shape of your mouth.”
She blushed and took the photograph, returning it to her pocket. “Yes, he is handsome and a sweet boy.”
“And now Mr. Calhoun wants the boy? Didn’t your father try to get him to do the right thing when he learned you were pregnant?”
“Oh, yes.” She bobbed her head. “At first, my father was furious with me, thought it was my fault. Over time, he came to believe me. He would have fought a duel for my honor had I begged him not to.”
She took a deep breath. “After my aunt turned me away, everyone knew the sordid details. I went home to stay on the plantation. That’s when my father learned Hiram had ruined other young girls in the same way, and he’d killed the men who’d tried to avenge them. He was a dead shot with a pistol and an accomplished swordsman.
“My father took care of me, and we tried to keep Macon’s birth a secret.” She pursed her lips. “My father always wanted a son. I think I was something of a disappointment.”
He reached out and touched her cheek. “You hold yourself in too light esteem.”
“No, I think not.”
She flinched this time, like she used to do. “When I had a boy, my father was delighted. It gave him the incentive to risk everything and start the cotton exchange. He wanted to leave Macon a legacy, to give him a chance, since the boy wouldn’t have a father.” She glanced at him. “You know the rest.”
“Except for one thing—why does Calhoun want your boy now, when he didn’t want anything to do with you or your son before?”
“My friend’s letter said Sybil died in childbirth. She was carrying a boy, but he died, too. It seems Hiram has come unhinged, losing both of them. It didn’t matter that I stayed hidden in the country. Hiram found out about Macon, but as long as he was married to Sybil, he couldn’t acknowledge him.”
She lifted one shoulder. “Now, he can. Like my father, he wants a son to leave his legacy. He can take Macon and raise him as his own. He has the influence and the money. No one would stop him.”
“I’d like to put him and Ben Murphy into a pit together, armed with Bowie knives, and see who came out on top.”
Her eyes widened. “Why, Commander, I wouldn’t have believed you to be a vindictive man.”
“Usually, I’m not. But what Calhoun did to you is beyond evil.” He shook his head. “And now he wants to take your son from you.”
“Thank you for your understanding. I appreciate it.” She turned toward the door again. “But I know you have pressing business.”
He reached out and caressed her cheek again. “What will you do Mallory? Let me take care of you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I wanted to tell you what happened, so you wouldn’t think ill of me. Now, I’m not sure if I did the right thing. I should have let you think the worst, then you couldn’t pity me.”
“Mallory, marry me. Yes, I feel sympathy for you, but it doesn’t change my other feelings.” He gazed at her, and their gazes caught and held. “I never thought I’d want another woman, after I lost my Martha, but I want you. At least, let me tell everyone we’re to be married. When your son comes, we can make a final decision.”
“No, I don’t want to live a lie any longer. You’ve made me realize it.”
“But…”
“I’ll tell Sally. She’ll understand. I can live with her until Macon arrives.”
“What about Peggy?”
She sucked in her breath. “I can keep tutoring her if you want, but we can’t give her the false hope we’ll marry. It wouldn’t be fair.”
He puffed out his cheeks and rubbed the back of his neck. “What are you going to tell Peggy when the other children don’t come to school?”
“The truth, their parents don’t want them to attend school anymore.”
“She will hear the rumors.”
“I know. I’ll deal with them as best I can, but I won’t lie to her.”
“Please, think about what you’re doing.”
“I will.” She nodded. “I probably won’t be able to think of anything else.”
***
Mallory straightened up the corner of the Rodgers’ sitting room where she gave Peggy her lessons. The Rodgers’ cabin was smaller than the commander’s house and after she sent Peggy home, she liked to stack the school books and put away the paper and pencils.
For three weeks, she’d seldom ventured outside. Considering all the gossip swirling around her and the commander, along with the other children withdrawing from her school, she had decided to tutor Peggy at the Rodgers’ home.
She’d told Sally everything, except for her intimate moments with Will… the commander. Sally had begged her to reconsider and marry him, seeing it as a neat solution to all her problems.
She’d sworn Sally to secrecy, but the woman must have said something to her husband because Captain Rodgers still treated her with respect. Perhaps, the commander had spoken with him, too. Though, she couldn’t know for certain, since she hadn’t talked to him since the day after the Fourth of July.
Sally kept her abreast of the news. The commander had abandoned most of his infantry outposts to ring the Lazy M with a cordon of soldiers, hidden in the mountains, putting the ranch under surveillance to watch for the Apache.
As he’d promised, he’d doubled the cavalry troops, patrolling the San Antonio-El Paso Road. For that she was thankful.
Now, all she had to do was wait. Her days bled into one another, each one much like the other, except for Sundays. On the Lord’s Day, for the first time in her life, she didn’t attend church, not wanting to encourage more gossip. Reverend Finley, who could hobble around with the help of a walking cane, visited her on Sunday evenings and prayed with her.
For the remainder of the week, she tutored Peggy, helped Sally, prayed, and laid awake nights, wondering where she’d gone wrong.
Peggy had withdrawn from her—their old closeness erased like chalk wiped off a blackboard. And the young girl missed having the other children. Though she didn’t say anything, she must have heard some of the gossip, too.
Mallory had tried to explain, telling Pegg
y her father had shown her Limpia Creek’s waterfall, the night of the Fourth of July celebration. For some people, it meant they had done a “bad” thing, but they hadn’t.
Peggy had asked why they didn’t marry. The young girl had heard if they married, the gossip would go away, and the other children would return to school. When Peggy asked her about marrying her father, she’d almost cried, realizing the girl still wanted her as part of their family.
She’d didn’t have an answer for Peggy because she didn’t have an answer herself. As much as she thought about marrying Will, as many sleepless nights as she pondered it, she didn’t feel right about it now.
Will, the commander, had opened her eyes. She’d come west to find a well-to-do man to take care of her and her son, as her father had. But she’d been a sham and a fake to do so. Will was right, she should have told E.P. that she already had a son, a son without a father. Or she should have learned to take care of herself and her son, by herself.
It was a hard lesson to learn—it went against all of her upbringing to be responsible for herself as well as her son.
Where did that leave her feelings for Will? Yes, she loved him, but she’d ruined it. Again, he’d been right. It was bad enough she’d set out to dupe a stranger, but far worse she hadn’t possessed the courage to tell the commander the truth from the start.
Even if she had told him the truth, they would have been forced to tell lies about her past. She hadn’t counted on that part, not thinking that far.
In the beginning, she’d thought she would marry E. P., a man who lived on an isolated ranch in the mountains. There would have been precious few neighbors to ask where her son had come from. But Will was another story. He was the commander of the fort, as well as the stand-in sheriff and mayor for the town.
Married to the commander, she couldn’t fade into obscurity and, feeling the way she did now, she didn’t want to spin a web of lies.
She dusted her hands and shook out her skirts. Sally was banging pots around in the kitchen. She could probably use some help getting supper together.
Someone knocked on the front door, but she hesitated. Sally probably hadn’t heard the knocking in the kitchen. Mallory smoothed her hair and decided to open the front door. Peggy stood on the porch.
She smiled. “Hello, did you forget something? I tidied up our space, and I didn’t see anything.”
“No, Miss, I came to ask if you or Mrs. Rodgers needs anything from the general store.” She held up a nickel. “Papa read your latest report last night. He was pleased by my progress, especially with Algebra. He said I could go to town for some candy after school. I’m going now. I asked Tammy, but she couldn’t come. Her mother said she has chores to do.”
“Why, how generous of your father. If I’d known, I would have sent more notes home.”
Peggy looked up at her, her eyes glowing. “Thank you, Miss. I’d like that.”
Seeing Peggy brighten at her words, her heart turned over. How she wished she could hug the child, as she used to. But that wouldn’t do.
“I don’t need anything, Peggy, but let me ask if Sally does. It was kind of you to stop by.”
Peggy looked down and scuffed her high-top boot on the porch. “I forgot.” She pulled a note from her apron pocket. “Papa said for me to give you this when I came for my lessons. But I forgot,” she repeated, sticking out her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t lie to you, Miss. It’s why I came back, not because I was thoughtful.”
She sucked in her breath—there it was again. The commander lived what he said, teaching his daughter that being truthful was not something to take lightly. She cringed inside, remembering how she’d lied to him.
That was behind her now. She’d changed or so she hoped.
She took the note from Peggy, wondering what Will… the commander had written. She wanted to read it in private. “Thank you, Peggy. Come inside but wipe your boots first. Let me ask Sally.”
She entered the kitchen and found Sally pouring cornbread batter into an iron skillet. “Peggy came back. She’s going to town. Do you need anything?”
Sally pulled open the oven and popped the skillet inside. Then she wiped her floury hands on her apron. “I could use a spool of navy thread and a packet of needles. Frank is always tearing his uniform, and sometimes, the laundresses stitch up the rips. Other times, they miss the places or…” She hunched one shoulder and reached into her skirt pocket. “Here’s a quarter. Tell Peggy if there’s any change, she can keep it.”
“Kind of you.”
Sally smiled and turned back to the oven.
Mallory joined Peggy at the front door. “Here you go.” She handed the girl the quarter. “Sally needs a spool of navy thread and a packet of needles. And she said you can keep the change, too.”
“Whoopee!” Sally yelled. “Maybe I’ll have enough to get something for Tammy.”
“That would be nice.”
“See you in a little while, Miss.” Peggy opened the front door and let herself out.
Mallory turned and crossed to her bedroom. She didn’t want Sally to know about the note from the commander. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she opened the folded note and scanned the contents:
“…our scouts have discovered a band of Comancheros on Lazy M… what Ben has promised the Apache… a safe haven for purchasing munitions and… could be a desperate fight… have made provision for Peggy… my sister Deborah Olson… would be beholden if you could escort her to Ohio… County of Jackson… Oak Hill… necessary funds with the quartermaster… with my love, Will.”
She gasped and tears sprang to her eyes, seeing his declaration of love on paper. Then a chill crawled down her spine. When had he ridden out? Why hadn’t Peggy said anything? Or Sally… Sally! What about Frank, had he gone, too?
With the crumpled note in her clammy hand, she rushed into the kitchen. “Sally, is Captain Rodgers with the commander? Did you know about them riding to the Lazy M?”
Sally didn’t turn. Instead, she leaned against the pump sink, sobbing.
“Oh, no, Sally, Sally!” Mallory grabbed her friend’s shoulders and turned her around. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Sally sniffled. “I thought you knew. They rode out before sunrise. My husband, Colonel Gregor, Captain Myerson, and even Captain French, along with four companies of cavalry.”
No, she hadn’t seen or heard the men ride out. After two nights of pacing the floor, she’d succumbed last night, taking a packet of sleeping powders Dr. Winslow had given her. She’d slept like a baby until Sally had shaken her awake.
And now she knew why Sally had been quiet and withdrawn today.
Sally pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and blew her nose. “The infantry took their ‘mountain guns’ with them, the howitzers, mounted on wagons. They’ll need all the firepower they can muster, going up against the Comancheros, the Apache, and possibly Murphy’s men.”
“Who are these Comancheros?”
Sally gazed at her. “I forget you’re not acquainted with the frontier. They’re desperate men, outlaws and murderers and such. They sell the hostiles firearms, bullets, knives, even whiskey. They’ve been doing it for years, started out supplying the Comanches. It’s how they got their name. They’re desperados, ready to fight to the death, knowing if they’re taken, they’ll most likely be hanged without the bother of a trial.”
“Oh, my heavens. No!”
“Yes, and I’d hoped the men would be back by now.” Sally shook her head and twisted her handkerchief in her hands. “But they’re not. The longer they’re gone…”
“Oh, Sally.” She pulled the woman into her arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Peggy forgot to give me the note from the commander this morning.” She held up the crumpled sheet of paper. “I just found out.”
“I wondered. Thought it was strange Peggy didn’t say anything or…”
“I doubt Peggy knows. The commander wouldn’t want
her to know.” She gulped and swallowed, but she couldn’t contain the tears spilling down her cheeks. “He left me a note, wanting me to take Peggy to his sister in Ohio if something should happen.”
“Yes, I knew that. He told Frank, too.” Sally pulled apart and gazed into her eyes. “He loves you, Mallory. He’s a good man. Whatever you’ve done or he’s done… Can’t you find it in your heart to marry him?”
“Ssssh.” She pulled Sally close again and tried to soothe her, stroking her long, brown hair. “I know he loves me, but I’m not… I’m…”
She let go of Sally and sat down at the kitchen table. “Please, would you mind putting on some water for tea?” She looked down at her clenched hands. “I think it’s time you knew everything.”
Sally nodded and grabbed the teakettle. She operated the hand pump, filling the kettle and then fetching the tea leaves and teapot.
It was time she told Sally the truth to see what she thought. With Will facing what sounded like the battle of his life, she needed to tell her friend everything to see if there was a way forward.
Knowing Will might be facing death at this moment or already lying wounded or worse, she realized how deeply she loved him. She wanted him, more than anything. And from his note, he still wanted her.
Couldn’t they overcome the past and find a way forward--if Will returned?
***
Hosea Lincoln crept forward, dodging between boulders and keeping as low to the ground as possible. Gregor watched him, straining his eyes against the rising sun, just beginning to rim the tops of the Davis Mountains to the east. Below them, a sheer cliff dropped into Painted Rock Canyon.
He could understand why Ben had picked this particular place to have the Apache rendezvous with the Comancheros. It was a deep box canyon with rough-hewn walls on three sides and only one entrance to the canyon floor. Ironic, too, that it had been the place of E.P.’s demise, most likely at the hands of his brother.
Gregor knew the entrance to the canyon would be closely guarded by Comanchero sentinels, hidden in the cliffs. Hosea had ridden to the fort, late last night, and given him the layout. Finally, after two weeks of redeploying his troops to ring the Lazy M, he’d hit pay dirt.
