“There is…another choice, of course…” Austen murmured. “If someone asked for her hand. Someone who could accept another man’s child as his own…someone who could see the beauty of Leah’s spirit, and wouldn’t allow it to be crushed by others. Someone who would love and protect her the way she should have always been cherished—and never was.”
Derrick smiled. “If you weren’t married to Josie, I’d say you’d be the perfect man for Leah.”
Austen remained solemn. “But I am married, my friend. It is you who is still unattached.”
Derrick’s smile faded. “Matchmaking, Austen?”
The two men stood looking at one another until finally Derrick said, “What makes you think—hell, she’s so damn beautiful—I just met her—she’s—” He finally stopped talking, seeing the warmth of laughter in Austen’s gaze.
“It is true you’ve only just met. And under odd circumstances. But—have you ever thought that perhaps these things happened as they were meant to?” Austen’s voice was cautious, as if he understood the shock to Derrick’s thoughts, to entertain such ideas. “Derrick,” he pressed, “things happen for reasons we do not understand at the time—sometimes, we never understand. But…this chance might never come for you and Leah again.”
Derrick’s thoughts went to the odd twists and turns in his relationship with Charley Blackfeather, his friend—now. But he and Charley hadn’t always been so close. They’d fought on opposite sides of the War, and Derrick had been ordered to kill Charley. Refusing, he’d been shot and left for dead himself. When Jim Danby’s gang had raided Wolf Creek, he and Charley had ridden together in the posse that had gone after the outlaws. It was during that time they’d grudgingly become friends. In the months since then, that friendship had grown, strengthening to brotherhood, dependability and trust—things that didn’t come easy to either of them.
“You’ve been alone too long.”
“That’s my business,” Derrick answered sharply.
Austen shrugged. “Can you say you’re truly happy? No…I didn’t think so. That’s why you got so mad. You know what I’m saying is the truth.”
Derrick kept his face impassive. Was he that transparent?
As if Austen had heard Derrick’s thoughts, he smiled. “Leah would have you if you asked. It wouldn’t be easy. She has her pride. But, it seems, so do you. I don’t know if it would ever happen—two prideful souls such as yourselves—you might ignore the happiness you could have together.”
“I take it you and Josie have nothing but happy days?” Derrick asked caustically.
“Far from it, my friend. But that’s part of life. I thought I couldn’t love her any stronger than I did when we said the wedding words. But as the years have passed, and with the things we’ve shared—good and bad—I love her more than ever.”
“That’s fine for you, but—”
“Think about it, brother.” Austen stepped forward, clapping Derrick’s shoulder. “We’d better get back. They’ll be coming down here to check on us. Let’s wash this blood off.” He stood looking into Derrick’s eyes. “No matter what, I’m glad you discovered what Leah was about to do tonight. You saved her life—this time.”
****
As they walked back up the embankment of the river bed, Austen caught his breath, swearing as he came to a stop. “That looks like David Martin’s horse.”
“Leah’s father? What’s he doing here?”
There were three horses tethered at the front of the little cabin. Austen peered at them, then said, “I don’t know those other two—”
The wariness in Austen’s voice made Derrick give him a sharp look. “Think there could be trouble of some kind?”
“Maybe. I have no use for David Martin.”
“Let’s go see.”
Raised voices filtered from inside the cabin as they neared.
Austen put a staying hand on Derrick’s arm. “Just wait. Let’s see what we’re walking into.”
“Leah, you will return! As my daughter, you will do as I say,” Martin announced.
“Why?” Derrick breathed, shooting Austen a quick glance. They stood just below the open window of the front room, out of sight.
Austen shook his head, but Derrick could read the knowledge in his friend’s eyes, even before Martin spoke again.
“John Red Bird has offered for your hand.”
“Jesus!” Derrick started out from the shadows.
“I won’t—” Leah began from inside, but whatever she was about to say was cut off as Derrick threw the door open and stepped inside.
Leah looked up at him, humiliation staining the tawny loveliness of her skin. In her eyes, though, he could see she was not going to give in and go quietly with her father.
The idea that Martin had not succeeded in crushing his daughter’s spirit all these years was something Derrick could not put aside. He knew her thoughts of ending her life were not because of the disfavor she’d fallen into with her father. Nor were they for her own dishonor. She had been thinking of the child—a child she had not wanted, yet, somehow, had come to love, despite the brutal circumstances of its very existence. And regardless of who the father had been. No matter what, it was half hers—and she wanted to protect it from what its life would be without a father.
Half-white, fitting into neither world, Leah’s son or daughter would be plummeted into the loneliest existence imaginable. And how would Leah be able to fend for both of them?
Yet, here she was, preparing to turn away a man who wanted her. Why?
“Things were getting loud in here,” Austen said in soft warning, looking around the room.
“I’m here to take Leah home as my wife.” John Red Bird spoke as if it were fact already, and there was no need for her agreement.
“I wouldn’t marry you if you begged me!”
Red Bird turned to face her, his lips turning upward into a snarl. “It is you who will be begging! I am humiliating myself by taking you to wife. If your father wasn’t giving me so many horses, I would leave you here to rot—you and your bastard.”
The last word had barely left his mouth before Derrick was upon him, leaping past Leah as she took a startled step backward. He tackled Red Bird to the floor of the small cabin.
Derrick raised his fist and slammed it into Red Bird’s nose, feeling a satisfying crunch. But Red Bird recovered from his surprise as anger took over. He rolled, pinning Derrick under him, taking a savage swing at Derrick.
Derrick caught his arm, looking up into the murderous face above him. How could any father allow his daughter to be betrothed to such a man?
He managed to push Red Bird off, and both of them grappled for a good hold on one another as they rose to their knees, then stood.
Red Bird reached to pull a blade from his belt, and Derrick heard Leah’s gasp from behind him.
Red Bird’s move didn’t put fear in Derrick’s heart, by any means. The things he’d been through in his past made this fight seem like child’s play. Red Bird was predictable. When he lunged, Derrick seized his arm with both hands, bringing it down on the edge of the table. Red Bird’s wrist snapped like a dry tree branch. He cried out, giving a high-pitched scream, then fell on the floor, cradling his broken wrist.
Derrick stood over him, panting. “Listen to me,” he said, watching Red Bird writhe on the floor. “Both of you.” He shot Martin a hard look. “Leah will not be forced to marry against her will.”
Martin started forward, and Austen gripped his shoulder with a firm hand. He stopped, pinning Derrick with a baleful glare. “You have made a mistake,” he declared. “My daughter will do as I say until she is married. And I say she will marry John Red Bird.” He cast a look at Leah. “What are you waiting for? Go and gather your things.”
But Leah raised her head proudly, refusing to move. When Derrick turned to look at her, she did not meet his eyes, but looked through her father as if he were made of glass.
The room was silent but for Red Bird’s m
ewling and gasping for breath on the floor at Derrick’s feet. Red Bird must have gotten in a couple of good punches, he thought, his hand going to his bruised ribs. Or maybe that soreness was courtesy of his earlier fight with Austen. That brought a fleeting smile to his lips.
Remembering what had brought this battle about, his earlier anger returned quickly.
Derrick had only been in love once in his life, with a woman who had betrayed him. While he’d been away fighting for the Confederacy, Jolene had married a Union soldier. She had been a beautiful woman, but Derrick had never been certain of her—as it turned out, with good cause.
Looking at the defiance in Leah’s lovely features, he knew he could always be sure of her, no matter what. She had an honesty that both heartened and amused him; and a sweet sincerity that could be the forerunner of love.
Did she see any redeeming quality in him, he wondered? No matter what he’d done, he didn’t believe she would reject him over John Red Bird. He hadn’t given marriage another thought after Jolene had done what she’d done. Leah was a lady. She needed someone to be kind to her, to provide for her; someone to make a home with for her little one—and others that might follow.
“Think about it,” Austen had said. But how could he? How could she?
Much as she might want to believe she had a choice—Derrick and she both knew what it had narrowly escaped being earlier this evening. There was no more time to “think about it.” He met Leah’s eyes.
“Leah and I are going to be married,” he heard himself saying. “And you can keep your damn horses.”
****
Martin and Red Bird stomped from the cabin, headed for the medicine man’s quarters to get Red Bird’s arm set before they started for home.
“You are dead to me,” Martin told Leah as he started out the door.
“As you are to me,” she replied haughtily.
Martin looked as if he’d like to give her a slap for her insolence, but Derrick stepped forward, putting himself between them.
The door slammed shut, and Josie gathered the children, shooing them into their beds.
“A wise decision,” Austen said softly to Derrick. “I leave you two to sort out your plans.” With a wink, he turned to follow Josie to the bedroom.
It was Leah who came to Derrick and took his hand in hers.
“Are you sorry you spoke for me?” She looked up at him with a half-teasing light in her eyes.
He gave a short laugh. “No. Are you?”
She shook her head. “It’s late. Maybe you’d rather sleep…think about it…I won’t hold you to it in the morning, if you’ve changed your mind.”
He moved to put his arms around her. “That’s enough ‘thinking about it’. I’m not gonna change my mind.”
“Derrick, there’s something I have to know—”
“I already suspect what it is you’re worried about. It’s not about you and me. We’re gonna be fine. Love—that’ll come with time, with a good start. It’s the baby…about it being Clark Davis’s baby, and about him raping you.”
Leah laid her head on Derrick’s shoulder and he could feel the warmth of her tears on his shirt.
“Can you love him, or her? Can you be a good father? May father was a tyrant—”
“Yet, look at you.” He held her away from him, staring down into her face. “You survived, and you’re so—” he broke off, fumbling for the right words.
“Stubborn?” she supplied. “Stiff-necked?”
“No.” He ran his thumb over the soft silk of her hair, pulled back into a loose bun. “So damn beautiful—inside and out.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “It almost sounds as if you mean those pretty words.”
“I do, Leah. If I could’ve done this any differently, I would’ve. Given us some time…made a better impression on your father.” He grinned, and she gave a soft chuckle.
“Not that that would make a difference,” she noted.
“Clark Davis is dead. He’ll never hurt you again. And this child—” he laid a hand gently on her stomach—“doesn’t know a thing about how he’s gotten here or what kind of person his father was. I think…if we try…we can keep it that way until he’s old enough to understand.”
“You fought for me…for us—” She placed a hand on her stomach. “Derrick, no one’s ever done that before. No one has ever…” She raised her hand to his cheek.
Derrick knew he would fight for her, and for her child, no matter what. He’d drifted long enough; seen enough of the seedy side of the world. He was ready for something good in his life. He wasn’t the only one who had suffered, but one thing he knew—he wasn’t alone anymore. When it had happened, he wasn’t sure—maybe when he’d come upon Leah pondering her jump from the rock shelf earlier tonight. Maybe even earlier, when she’d questioned him at the table.
He’d always tried to do the right thing—but he’d gotten sidetracked. Still, the desire was there to be the kind of man he knew he could be, but had given up on. Raising Clark Davis’s child would be a challenge. But he’d seen the love and protectiveness for her child in Leah’s face earlier when her father and John Red Bird had crowded the doorway of the small cabin. Even her thoughts of ending her life had been to protect the baby.
His father’s words came back to him, as if whispered on the still autumn night.
“It takes a man to raise another man’s son,” Derrick said softly, “with kindness in his heart, no matter the circumstances. I am that man.”
About the Author—Cheryl Pierson
Cheryl was born in Duncan, Oklahoma, and grew up in Seminole, Oklahoma. She graduated from the University of Oklahoma and holds a B.A. in English.
She has eight published novels, including three western historical romances: Fire Eyes, The Half-Breed's Woman, and Gabriel's Law, all available in print and digital format.
Three of Cheryl’s stories have been nominated in the Best Western Short Fiction category of the Western Fictioneers Peacemaker Awards. Her paranormal western short story "The Keepers of Camelot" was nominated in 2013. In 2014, her story "It Takes a Man," featuring her characters from the Wolf Creek series, was a finalist. And the most recent, “Hidden Trails,” set in Indian Territory, was nominated in 2016.
Her young adult western historical trilogy of novellas, Red Eagle's War, Red Eagle's Revenge, and Texas Forever are available through the Painted Pony Books imprint, and the first two of the series have spent much time on Kindle's top 100 list for westerns.
Cheryl also has contributed heavily to the western "shared world" collaborative effort known as Wolf Creek since it came into existence. Written under the pen name of "Ford Fargo," the series features six authors in each volume with stories built around the characters they've created. Anthologies of short stories round out this collaboration. Wolf Creek Book 6: Hell on the Prairie contains Cheryl's Peacemaker-nominated story, "It Takes a Man." Cheryl has also served as the President of Western Fictioneers, a professional organization for western authors.
Writing is so much a part of her life that she and long-time friend Livia Reasoner, opened Prairie Rose Publications. PRP now offers five other imprints: Painted Pony Books, Tornado Alley Publications, and Fire Star Press, Prayers and Promises, and Sundown Press.
Cheryl and her husband have lived in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, for the past 32 years.
More by Cheryl Pierson
THE KEEPERS OF CAMELOT
2013 WESTERN FICTIONEERS PEACEMAKER AWARD FINALIST-An exciting short story with an unusual twist on the legend of King Arthur from award-winning author Cheryl Pierson ~
Winter Magic
The Diamond brothers are cast out into the world by a crooked business deal at a young age. They’ve lost everything—including their father. Although they are forced to make their own way, brotherly bonds remain unbreakable: It’s all for one and one for all.
HEARTS AND DIAMONDS—Revenge sets hired gun Nick Diamond after a bride, and nothing will stand in his way. But when that bride
happens to be outspoken firebrand Liberty Blankenship, all bets are off. Anything can happen when HEARTS AND DIAMONDS collide!
SPELLBOUND—Safecracker Brett Diamond and witch Angie Colton take on a border gang leader who is pure evil. Can Angie’s supernatural powers save them? No matter what, Brett and Angie are hopelessly SPELLBOUND.
LUCK OF THE DRAW—Handsome gambler Jake Diamond and beautiful fledgling sorceress Lainie Barrett make a last-ditch effort to reunite Lainie and her mother for Christmas. Along the way, Jake and Lainie realize there’s no escape from the powerful attraction they feel toward one another. But do they know each other well enough to become a family when they rescue an abandoned infant? With their own particular talents, they discover life is one big poker table—and love can be had if they are willing to risk it all!
Hidden Trails
Levi Connor has never run from anything in his life, and he doesn’t intend to start now. After killing the two bandits who’d followed him into Indian Territory, he finds himself wounded and riding through a blinding February snowstorm. With no purpose ahead of him and no past to guide him, he discovers a reason to exist—the beautiful mixed-blood girl who takes him in and heals him.
Valentine Reneau lives in fear that her father will find her someday in the heart of Indian Territory and force her to return to Mississippi to take her mother’s place—in every way. She knows her time has run out when a stranger shows up on her land with two hired guns—and the devil in his plans.
With some unlikely help, Valentine must try to escape the slave’s fate that her mother left behind so many years before. Will Levi kill for a woman he barely knows? The chips are down, the guns blaze, and everything finally comes clear along these HIDDEN TRAILS…but who’ll be left alive?
It Takes a Man Page 4
