by Pam Hillman
“My mother’s a lot like you. She’d go to the ends of the earth to help someone in trouble. I think you’ll like her.”
Mariah leaned back against the tree, her eyes closed, and listened to the sound of his voice. “And your sisters?”
He chuckled. “Katherine and Cassandra. They’re a little younger than you are. Most people can’t tell them apart—”
“Twins?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know that.” She laughed. “I’ll bet they’re both beautiful—blue eyes and dark hair. Am I right?”
He nodded. “They look alike, but they’re different on the inside. Kat has a streak of wildness in her a mile wide. Loves horses. Given half a chance, she could give Buck a run for his money in breaking them. I guess her name suits her. But Cassie wouldn’t dream of doing anything unladylike. She enjoys helping Ma in the house, while Kat can’t stand to be cooped up inside.”
“Kat sounds a lot like Amanda.”
“Really? I wouldn’t have thought that, not with her being blind and all.”
“Oh, she’s not afraid of anything. I’ve spent many a day just trailing after her to make sure she didn’t get into something. That’s one reason I’ve worried so about her in Philadelphia.”
“What happened?”
She’d wondered if he’d ever ask about Amanda’s blindness. Now the question took away some of the magic of the day. “She was three years old, and it was my job to watch her. The garden had come in, and Grandma had her hands full.”
Talking about it brought back the painful memories of her part in the accident. She pleated her skirt between her fingers, then smoothed the still-damp material. “I left Amanda while I went inside to get my doll. When I came outside, I couldn’t find her. She’d climbed up into the hayloft of the barn. Nobody really knows what happened, but somehow she slipped and fell out of the loft. Doc says she must have hit her head, and she lost her sight. Nothing could be done for her.”
“And you felt responsible?”
“Yes.”
“That’s why you want her to have a better chance. To be able to make something of her life. You think it’s your fault she’s blind.” He studied her as if he knew exactly how she felt. Her father and grandmother had never really understood the depth of her guilt.
“It is—it was. I shouldn’t have left her.” Tears pricked her eyes. “If I’d been there, she wouldn’t have climbed into the loft and fallen.”
Mariah stared at the creek, thinking back to that horrible day. After all these years, she could still see Amanda lying there on the ground like a broken doll, bloody and still. And ultimately—permanently—blind.
Slade reached out and captured her hand, and she felt the warmth of his fingers, the calluses on his palm. She laced her fingers through his, liking the feel of her hand engulfed in his larger one.
“I’m sure she doesn’t blame you.”
“She doesn’t. But I blame myself.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
LATE AFTERNOON saw the arrival of the Denton family. Slade caught a glimpse of little Becky bundled up in a ragged quilt. Mariah had been right to insist on cleaning before the Dentons arrived. What had he been thinking when he’d suggested they move right in? He should have realized the cabin would need a good scrubbing first.
Slade and James moved the family’s meager belongings inside, and Mariah brought a pot of stew and a pan of corn bread to welcome the family.
Elizabeth could hardly contain her excitement. James carried Becky inside and placed her on the bed they’d set up on one side of the room. Jim watched everything from his perch in the loft.
The men walked down to the creek so James could water the horse he’d borrowed from Mr. Tisdale. Slade started to offer the use of one of the horses on the ranch but decided not to mention it yet. Denton would have to earn the right to a horse.
The man had shaved off his beard and started the day in clean clothes. “This is a nice place.”
“It’s not much.”
As the horse drank, James’s attention wandered to his wife, chatting with Mariah on the porch. “It’s better’n where we were.” He cleared his throat, his gaze raking Slade’s before he looked down and toed the dirt with his boot. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done, Donovan. First for Jim an’ Becky, and now offering me a job and a place to stay.”
“Think nothing of it.” Slade shrugged, uncomfortable with the man’s thanks.
“But I need to get this off my chest. I know I’ve been a terrible father the last few years. I stayed drunk more’n I stayed sober. And God forgive me for treating Elizabeth and the kids like I have.” He sighed. “I told God I’d do better if he’d heal Becky. She’s far from well, but she’s on the mend, and I give God the glory for that.”
“I’m glad she’s going to be okay.”
“God could’ve taken her, and it would’ve been what I deserved.” Denton glanced at him. “I’ve been running from God for a long time.”
A shiver rolled over Slade. “God wouldn’t take your daughter’s life to punish you, would He?”
Denton shrugged. “Who knows the mind of God? But I’ll tell you this. If she had died, it would have been my fault completely. That’s enough to make me determined to turn over a new leaf. I promise I won’t let you down, Mr. Donovan.”
Slade clapped his hand on Denton’s shoulder as they headed back toward the cabin. “I’m going to hold you to that promise.”
Mariah heard a knock at the door. She left supper on the stove and peeked through the window. Frederick stood on the porch. She’d forgotten all about him what with Becky getting hurt, the picnic, and then the Dentons moving out to the ranch.
“Frederick.” She motioned him in, surprised at his appearance. He wore a dusty suit coat, rumpled as if he might have slept in it, and mud-spattered pants and boots. Frederick prided himself on being neat, clean, and perfectly groomed at all times.
A little too neat, as a matter of fact. Made her feel dowdy by comparison.
“Frederick, is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine. Just had a little mishap with my horse, that’s all.”
She led the way into the parlor, still as old and worn as it had been the last time he came, but this time, she didn’t think it would matter. She pushed back the curtains to allow more light into the room. A sunbeam played across Frederick’s face, revealing dark circles under his eyes and sunken cheeks. It wasn’t like him to be so disheveled. He must have come straight to see her on his way home from Laramie.
“I’m sorry I missed the picnic,” he said. “I got tied up in Laramie.”
“I understand.” She bit her lip. What would he say if she told him she hadn’t missed him at all?
A door slammed, and running feet clattered down the hall. Frederick jumped. “What was that?”
“That’s Jim. His pa is working at the Lazy M now, and he pretty much has the run of the place.” Mariah frowned. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Just tired.” A tight smile creased his face.
“Let me get you something to drink.” She moved toward the door. “There’s some of Mrs. Riker’s lemonade left from the picnic if you’d like.”
“I’m not thirsty.” He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “You know why I’m here.”
“Yes—”
“Say you’ll marry me, Mariah—soon. We can leave today and go straight to Philadelphia. You could be with Amanda in a matter of days.”
To be able to see Amanda was tempting, but not tempting enough to say yes to his proposal. She looked at his mussed hair, the carefully controlled facade that had slipped, his disheveled clothes, and decided she liked him better now than when he’d been the perfectly coiffed, impeccably dressed gentleman so out of place in Wisdom.
She pulled away. To her relief, he let her go. She walked across the room and turned to face him. Had she done something, said something in the past to make him think she loved him?
“Frederick, I’ve prayed about your proposal, but I just can’t marry you.”
“You’ve said that before—”
“Please. Let me finish.” Her stomach roiled at what she was about to say. “To be honest, since you’ve been gone, I considered accepting, but not for the reason you’d expect.”
He strode toward her, a pleased smile on his face. He took her by the shoulders. “Mariah, I don’t care what your reason is, as long as you say yes.”
“I’m sorry; I’m making a mess of this. I considered accepting your offer after you told me that you plan to sell out and move back east. It would be the obvious solution, since my grandmother and I are penniless—”
“What did you say?”
She frowned. “I said since you wanted to move back east, and we’ll be going to Philadelphia—”
“No, the other part.” His hands tightened on her shoulders.
“Frederick, you’re hurting me. Let me go.”
“Not until you explain yourself.” His face had gone pale, and his eyes glittered dangerously. “What do you mean, you’re penniless?”
His fingers dug into her arms, and she winced. “I said there isn’t any money. I owed some debts—”
The unfamiliar horse tied to the hitching rail had been ridden long and hard. Lather coated the underside of the animal’s belly where the girth rested. Frowning, Slade made his way around to the back porch and washed up for supper. The visitor could have at least seen to his horse.
Supper simmered on the stove in the quiet kitchen. Enticing aromas wafted throughout the room. He walked over to the stove to investigate. Peas, corn bread, and thick slices of fried ham. He grinned and reached for a piece of meat. Mariah would have his hide if she knew he’d snitched food before supper, but what Mariah didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
His hand paused in midair when voices from the parlor reached him.
“Do you mean to tell me you didn’t get a dime from Donovan?”
“Let me go. You’re hurting me.”
Cooper.
White-hot anger exploded inside Slade, and he hurried down the hall toward the parlor.
“That money was the only reason I came back.” Cooper laughed, a harsh bark devoid of humor. “If it hadn’t been for the money, I would’ve been clear across the country by now.”
“What are you talking about?” Confusion laced Mariah’s words.
Slade shoved against the parlor door, not caring that it crashed against the wall. Cooper whirled to face him. “Get out.”
Cooper’s gaze slid from Slade to Mariah, a knowing smirk on his face. “Well, Donovan, it didn’t take you long to sweet-talk Mariah into handing over everything here at the Lazy M—lock, stock, and barrel.”
Slade clenched his fist and took a step toward the two-bit scum. If he said one more word . . . “I won’t tell you again.”
“Don’t worry. I’m going.” He glanced at Mariah, his face twisted with hatred, no longer trying to hide behind his suave good looks and debonair charm. “I wasted enough time here anyway.”
“I’m warning you, Cooper.”
Cooper held up both hands and backed away.
The front door slammed, and Slade turned to Mariah. She stood with both arms wrapped tightly around her waist, her face pale as death.
He should have decked Cooper on the spot.
“Are you all right?” He took a step toward her.
“I believed him. I thought he cared about me, but he wanted the ranch; then after he thought I’d sold it, he wanted the money.”
She laughed, the sound bitter. “How long will what my father did haunt me? It seems everywhere I turn, every decision I try to make, the consequences of my father’s actions are staring me in the face. Even you . . .” She took a deep breath. “Even you’re here because of the gold my father stole.”
He reached for her. He wanted to tell her that everything would be all right. That what her father had done didn’t matter anymore. “Mariah—”
“No.” She held up her hands, palms out. “Don’t touch me. I . . . I need time to think.”
She fled the room.
Something cold and hard twisted in Slade’s gut as he watched her go. He couldn’t undo what her father had done, couldn’t undo what Cooper had done.
And God help him, he couldn’t undo what he’d done.
Mariah spent a sleepless night tossing and turning. Dawn found her in the kitchen fixing breakfast for her grandmother and herself, but her thoughts weren’t on the task at hand.
Instead, she found herself thinking about Frederick. It appalled her that she had misread him so completely. Admittedly, she had never loved him—and hadn’t misled him to the contrary—but she’d honestly thought he loved her.
And Slade?
A sick feeling coiled in her stomach. Did he care for her, or had he been toying with her affections much the same way Frederick had? But for what gain? He already had everything he’d come here for.
But one glance from Slade had her melting inside while Frederick’s touch left her as cold as a Wyoming winter storm.
Her mind whirled. What should she do now? If she stayed any longer, her heart would be so tied to Slade that she wasn’t sure if she would be able to leave. Could she do it even now? She had to. Otherwise, she risked loving a man she could never have. Yes, he’d softened toward her and her family, and he felt sorry for Amanda, but that didn’t mean there could ever be anything else between them.
The pounding of hooves drew her out of her reverie, and she paused to listen. From the sound of it, several horses had thundered into the yard. She frowned and hurried toward the front door, wiping her hands on her apron as she went.
Her grandmother tottered down the hall. “What’s all this commotion?”
“I don’t know.”
They stepped out onto the front porch to find the sheriff surrounded by a dozen men or more, none of whom she recognized.
Slade came out of the cookhouse, followed by Rio, Buck, and the rest of the men.
“Morning, folks,” Sheriff Dawson drawled.
“Morning.” Slade nodded. “What can we do for you, Sheriff?”
The sheriff thumbed toward a man on his left. “This is Sheriff Warner from Laramie. They’re looking for a man named Emmit Frederick. The description of the fellow fits Frederick Cooper. Seems he had a run-in with some men on Saturday night at a saloon in Laramie. A couple of them accused him of cheating at cards, and he pulled a gun.”
Mariah bit back a gasp.
Sheriff Dawson’s gaze rested on her for a moment.
Rio spoke up, his voice laced with excitement. “Anybody killed?”
“One dead, another in pretty bad shape.” He shifted, and his saddle creaked in the early morning stillness. Horses stomped and snorted, anxious to be on their way. “I understand Cooper’s sweet on Miss Malone. I’d like to have a word with her.”
Slade stepped forward. “That won’t be necessary, Sheriff. Cooper stopped by last night, and I stood there as he said his good-byes to Miss Malone. I don’t think he’ll be back.” He pushed back his hat. “At the time, we didn’t know there’d been any trouble.”
The sheriff turned to Mariah. “Is that right, Miss Malone?”
Heat seared Mariah’s face as all eyes came to rest on her. “Yes, Sheriff, that’s right.”
Sheriff Dawson nodded. “I reckon I can take your word for it. We’ll be on our way.”
“Do you need more men?” Slade said.
“No, you folks stay here and keep a lookout. Now that Cooper’s on the run, there’s no telling what he’s liable to do.”
Mariah’s appetite rode out with the posse. She stood in the kitchen, her mind and hands finishing their tasks by rote. She took the biscuits out of the oven and forked the ham out of the skillet. Her grandmother sat at the table, nursing a cup of coffee.
“I can’t believe Frederick shot a man.” Her grandmother shook her head. “Makes me wonder if we ev
er truly knew him at all.”
Mariah placed the biscuits on the table and sat, a cup of coffee in her hand, thinking about Frederick’s visit last night. He’d shown his true colors to her more than to her grandmother, but she was still shocked to find out he’d killed a man. She shuddered. Figuratively speaking, he’d had blood on his hands when he stopped by yesterday afternoon. He’d sat in her parlor, touched her. She’d even considered marrying him, though for the wrong reasons.
“How well do we ever know anybody?”
Tears pricked her eyes as she thought of what her father had done. And now Frederick. Her conscience stung. She’d betrayed her family and friends too. No, she hadn’t stolen anything or killed anybody, but she’d kept secrets from Amanda and the good people of Wisdom. All to salvage her foolish pride.
Needing time alone to think, she put the leftovers in the pie safe and carried a few pieces of bread and pan drippings out to the cats. The yellow tomcat nibbled at the food. She watched the cat, thinking about his life.
So much simpler than hers.
He didn’t have to worry about money, rustling, gambling, pride, or greed. As long as he had scraps of food and the barn had mice, there was nothing for him to worry about.
She reached out a hand. To her surprise, he let her fingers touch his back before he darted away. “It’s okay, Yellow. I won’t hurt you. Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” she whispered.
He inched back to the tin plate and started eating again.
Mariah waited patiently. Slowly she reached out and ran her hand down his back. He arched into her hand before skittering away once again. A feeling of accomplishment surged through her.
She smiled through her tears. “Someday you’ll beg me to pet you, Yellow. You just wait and see.”
Her elation popped like a soap bubble when she remembered. In a few days, she wouldn’t be here to tame Yellow. She needed to leave as soon as she could make arrangements. She had to go now, before Slade took her heart and trampled it completely. She stood and turned toward the house.
