Wolf Creek Homecoming

by Penny Richards

  But it wasn’t only Danny Libby wanted to spend time with. When the supper dishes were done and put away, Edward challenged Danny to a game of checkers and Libby suggested that she and Rachel sit on the porch. Nervous, though she wasn’t sure why, Rachel acquiesced.

  “I wanted a chance to talk to you alone before I leave,” Libby said.

  “I understand.”

  Libby smiled. “I’m not sure you do. I imagine there are all sorts of things running through your mind, including wondering what I really think of you.” She reached out and patted the hands Rachel clutched in her lap.

  “I’ve talked to Gabe, and he told me about St. Louis. After hearing about his antics through the years, I was a bit surprised that he took the entire blame for what happened.”

  “You kept up with him and Caleb?” Rachel asked, surprised.

  “Some,” she said with a nod. “Enough to know that Caleb was turning into a sour recluse and Gabe was running amok. When he left here, I lost track of him except for what few things made the papers back East. I never heard a word about you and Danny, though.”

  “There’s no way anyone could have known about me and Danny until Sarah spoke up.” Rachel said. “I never even told my father who Danny’s father was.”

  “So Edward said.”

  “Who kept you informed? Surely not Lucas.”

  “No, not Lucas,” Libby said with a laugh. “It was Frank, actually, but I only heard from him a time or two a year, since reading and writing aren’t his strong suits. And when there was some medical problem, your dad would drop me a line through Frank. It was all very hush-hush. I couldn’t have Lucas finding out that I was keeping up with them.”

  Rachel liked Libby even more, knowing she’d done what she could to keep up with her sons’ development.

  “Do Caleb and Gabe know?”

  “Yes.”

  “I appreciate your openness, Libby, and I especially appreciate your acceptance of Danny. It was very gentlemanly of Gabe to take sole responsibility for what happened. For years I told myself that he was the only one responsible, but the truth is that I was as much in the wrong as he was.” She took a deep breath and met Libby’s gaze. “Suffice it to say that he’s very hard to withstand when he puts his mind to something—not that that is an excuse.”

  “He always was hard to resist,” Libby agreed with a gentle smile. “When Caleb got into trouble, he got all serious and helpful and did any and everything to get back in my good graces. Gabe turned on the charm and wooed me back into a good mood by entertaining me with some sort of foolishness or another.”

  Rachel had no problem envisioning that, since Danny was pretty adept at the same thing.

  “Since coming back and hearing about how truly appalling their time with Lucas was, I’m ashamed of not having tried harder to do something to get them back. Sam had money. I should have found a good attorney and...done something.”

  “Lucas Gentry was a powerful man,” Rachel said, wanting to ease the pain reflected in the older woman’s eyes. “Even more daunting than his fortune is the fact that he was very politically connected, from local attorneys to the governor. He wouldn’t have hesitated to use that influence against you.”

  “Thank you for pointing that out. I know you’re right. It’s just that I hate what happened to them, and I worry about how it affected them as they grew up.”

  “Lucas’s behavior had a profound effect on everyone’s life, including yours,” Rachel reminded her. “Thank God you’ve come through it, stronger. You’ve made a wonderful new life and have Win and Blythe. Caleb is like a new man since Abby came along, and I truly believe Gabe is on his way to happiness, so stop worrying. Dad always says that worry is like a rocking chair. You can rock all day and never get anywhere. One thing I’ve realized is that we can’t undo the past. All we can do is take the lessons we learn from our mistakes and apply them to future situations.”

  “As you’ve done.”

  She shrugged. “As tough as Caleb and Gabe’s life was, it has made them the men they are. Imperfect, certainly, but basically good men. That goodness had to come from you, from the memories of you they never let go.”

  Libby’s eyes shimmered with tears. “He loves you, you know, and the longer I’m here, the more I understand why.”

  Rachel’s breath caught. “He loves Danny.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, my dear.”

  Rachel felt her own eyes fill with tears. “How can you be so nice to me?” she whispered. “When you know...”

  “I’m not here to cast stones,” Libby said. “We all fall short, and no matter how much we’d like there to be, there are no little sins and big sins. Just sins.

  “She may never acknowledge it, but Sarah’s gossiping tongue is just as bad as what happened between you and Gabe. The two of you have learned from your mistakes and have made things right with God. You’re trying to live good lives. It’s a heart thing, something Sarah just doesn’t get.”

  “So you’ve forgiven her?” Rachel asked.

  “I’m working on it,” Libby said with another of those dry smiles. “So!” She swiped her fingertips beneath her eyes and her voice took on brisk purpose. “Now that we have that cleared up, do you have any objections to my moving here?”

  “What I think has no bearing on your decision,” Rachel said, surprised that Libby would seek her approval.

  “Of course it does. I’ll have a lot of contact not only with Caleb and Gabe, but with the children. How do you feel about my being part of Danny’s life?”

  Touched that she cared about her feelings, Rachel said, “I think it would be wonderful for him to have a grandmother. As long as you don’t spoil him too much,” she added.

  Libby’s eyes widened and she placed a palm against her chest as if the comment had inflicted a mortal wound. “But spoiling is what grandmothers are for, and I have so much catching up to do.”

  Seeing the genuine dismay in Rachel’s eyes, Libby laughed and leaned forward to give her a quick hug. “I’ll try.”

  Knowing she was fighting a losing battle, Rachel gave in to the inevitable. She would now not only have to share Danny with Gabe but with his mother, and possibly Win and Blythe.

  Not necessarily a bad thing.

  Reluctantly, she agreed with the little voice whispering inside her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Libby was long gone and everyone else in the house was sleeping soundly. A shaft of moonlight slanted across Rachel’s bed, and a whisper of air drifted through the partially open window, causing the lace curtains to ripple gently. She lay there thinking of her conversation with Gabe’s mother and conjuring up images of what it would be like with Libby Granville in town. In her life.

  Libby claimed Gabe loved her, and with those words running through her mind, Rachel began to dream of re-creating some of the funny, tender moments she and Gabe had once shared and building a life with their son. Would it ever happen? She’d begun to nurture the tiny, tentative hope that it might.

  She often thought of Gabe’s statement on the day of the box-lunch picnic. He was going to ask her to marry him. When? What would she say if he did? According to his mother and her father, Gabe loved her. Could she trust it was true? Could she trust him again?

  She heard the sudden patter of raindrops and sighed in pleasure. She loved hearing rain against the rooftop. Then, realizing that the window was half-open, she scrambled to a sitting position and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She’d almost reached the window when she heard another soft clatter and realized it wasn’t rain at all. Someone was throwing gravel.

  Grabbing the shawl that was draped over the back of a nearby chair, she flung it around her shoulders and poked her head out the window. Gabe stood near her mama’s rosebush with his hands on his hips, his head tipped back
watching to see if she would answer his summons.

  “What are you doing here?” she screeched in a loud whisper. She was appalled by his presence yet unaccountably pleased to see him. What a scandal it would be if anyone else saw him! Thank goodness Danny, not her father, had the room next to hers. Unlike Edward, Danny slept like the dead.

  “I haven’t seen you all day, and I wanted to tell you that I...”

  Her breath hung suspended and her heart seemed to stop midbeat.

  “...I miss you.”

  “Gabe,” she all but groaned. Then, pushing aside a ridiculous rush of pleasure, she summoned her most professional tone. “Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a heartless woman, Rachel Stone? Where will I see you tomorrow? At the store or between the times before you hurry off to see a patient? Where’s the romance in that?”

  “Romance?” She croaked the single word in a low, stunned voice.

  “Yes, romance. Obviously you’ve never been courted before.”

  The insidious, ridiculous pleasure blossomed inside her. “Really? What was St. Louis?”

  “That doesn’t count because I didn’t know what I was doing or why,” he said in a low undertone. “This—” he spread his arms wide “—is the real thing. I told you.”

  She chewed on her lower lip. Uncertainty lent stridency to her voice. “If someone sees you here, it won’t be pleasant.”

  “What can they do? Talk about us?” he challenged.

  She resisted the urge to giggle. “Go home, Gabe.”

  “So practical,” he said with a low chuckle and a shake of his head. “We need to work on that.” He took a step backward. “Tomorrow, then. I have to take a load of grain out to Mr. Connor after I close, but when I come back, I’m going to ask you to walk with me down by the creek and I’m going to ask you a very important question, so you’d better be ready. Preferably with the answer I want to hear.” He pivoted to leave.

  “Gabe!”

  He turned.

  “What if you don’t get the answer you want?”

  “Then I’ll try harder.” She saw the flash of his smile in the moonlight. “I’d like tomorrow better than next month or next year, but I’m learning that I can be a very patient man, and I have it on good authority that women can’t resist me, so it’s only a matter of time.”

  She smiled at the teasing tone of his voice, her heart light with promise.

  “You’re a very conceited man,” she told him, but there was no real condemnation in the words.

  “I prefer to think of it as confidence. And it’s part of why you love me. You do, you know.”

  He sketched a jaunty salute, turned and left her dangling out the window, her mouth hanging open. She watched him disappear into the trees behind the house, knowing he was right, drat him. She was even starting to believe that her love was returned, but neither fact altered the nagging fear of whether or not she was ready to trust that love enough to take a second chance.

  * * *

  The sun was still plenty high in the western sky when Gabe drove his wagon back toward Wolf Creek the next day. He’d told Rachel he wouldn’t rush her, but he wanted her to know how he felt. As anxious as he was to have the upcoming conversation with her, he’d needed the extra couple of hours to settle his nerves. He couldn’t recall ever feeling so scared about what a woman would say.

  She well knew that he was no innocent. She might be more inclined to say yes if he were blameless and they had no past to come between them, but no matter what she said, he didn’t regret that time. It had taken him years to realize that if he hadn’t looked her up in St. Louis, he might have gone on with his aimless life indefinitely.

  She was like no woman he’d ever met. Serious and still somewhat shy, yet decisive and professional. She was dedicated to her goals. Intelligent and innately good. After all these years, he understood why he had turned his back on her. Once she had given him her heart, she had given him everything else she possessed with utmost trust. Even as self-serving as he’d been, he was smart enough to realize how special that was. What did a man like him do with love like that? How was he to return it? His only knowledge of love was the vague memories of his mother, who had left him. And so he’d panicked, written her a note and disappeared.

  What a fool he’d been! But when he’d awakened with her name on his lips and his eyes wet with tears long after she should have been nothing but a hazy memory, he’d realized what an impact she’d had on him. That was when he’d gathered the courage to come home.

  And here they were, almost six months later. If he thought it had taken courage for him to return, he couldn’t imagine how brave she’d been to come home with an illegitimate child. Yet she had endured the whispers and speculation. She had restored her good name and was well respected in the community. Did he have the right to jeopardize that by asking her to share his life? Maybe not, but he intended to anyway.

  The sound of shouting and neighing horses up ahead jolted him back to the present. He thought he heard a woman scream. What was going on? he wondered, slapping the reins against his horse’s back, urging it to speed up.

  The road curved, and as he rounded the slight bend, he saw that a surrey had been forced off the side of the road. Two horsemen with bandannas pulled up over their faces had dismounted and were yelling at a stout woman, but he was too far away to make out what they were saying.

  He recognized the buggy at the same time one of the men reached out and tugged an earbob from one of the woman’s ears. Sarah VanSickle! And it looked as if she was being robbed. Even as the thoughts came together, Gabe saw her knock her attacker’s hand away from her other ear. When the man grabbed at her reticule, she stepped backward and received a couple of blows for her effort.

  Recalling his own encounter with bandits on this very stretch of road—possibly these same two—he urged the gelding to a tooth-rattling pace that launched him up from the bench seat every time the wheels hit a bump. As he neared the scene and pulled his horse to a stop, Sarah recognized him.

  “Gabe! Help! Please!” She was holding her abdomen, and her lip was bleeding.

  When he leaped to the ground, the thief who was watching Sarah’s abuse at the hands of his cohort turned to face him. The familiar coal-black eyes above the bandanna’s edge were filled with a chilling malevolence. “Well, well, well. Back for more, are you?”

  The eyes and the gravelly voice breached the entrance to a memory Gabe had slammed the door on. These were definitely the same men. Even if the robber hadn’t uttered the telling statement, he would never forget that voice.

  “Yeah,” he said. “And I’m not hungover this time.”

  Lunging forward, he hit the outlaw’s midsection with his shoulder, wrapping his arms around him and using his forward momentum to bring him down. The men hit the ground with loud grunts. They wrestled, rolling over and over, one on top and then the other, exchanging blow for blow. During the struggle, the stranger’s kerchief slipped down, but Gabe didn’t recognize him. He looked Indian, though.

  He paid for his lack of attention with a particularly hard punch to the kidney and another to the eye. With blood running down his face, he hauled back and landed a well-aimed strike to his opponent’s face. The man’s grip loosened, and with his lungs heaving, Gabe struggled to regain his footing. He swiped at the blood dripping off his chin and faced the man who held a handful of Sarah’s ruffled bodice in one hand and a bowie knife in the other.

  “Give him your reticule, Sarah,” Gabe told her, angling closer. From the corner of his eyes, he saw the man he’d fought roll to his knees and draw his Colt. “Give them what they want.”

  Sarah looked at him as if he’d grown two heads. “Don’t be ridiculous, Gabriel! I’ll do nothing of the sort.”

  “It’s only jewelry
. It can be replaced.”

  “Jewelry Randolph worked long hours to pay for,” she snapped.

  The man jerked suddenly and she went careening forward. The action was accompanied by the sound of rending cloth. As she staggered to regain her footing, the big man’s hand came away with a handful of fabric.

  “My brooch!” With no thought of the knife in his hand, she leaped forward, her hands curled into claws. She meant to scratch out his eyes, Gabe thought. Unfortunately, she only managed to drag the handkerchief down. She gasped when she saw who it was. Another blow sent her sprawling onto the ground.

  The man Gabe had fought let go a string of curses. “They’ve seen us, Elton.”

  “So they have, and that’s no good at all.”

  From the look in his eyes, there was no telling what he’d do. Unaware that they were both near death, Sarah struggled to her feet and rushed her assailant once more, swinging her reticule like a lasso.

  “Give me my earrings!”

  Gabe cast a quick look at the other desperado and saw that he’d turned his weapon toward Sarah. Gabe sprang forward, hoping to knock her out of the line of fire.

  Several things seemed to happen simultaneously. Two loud booms shattered the evening air. Sarah screamed and then just...disappeared. Something seared his side. Almost simultaneously an intense pain blossomed in his head. He heard both men yelling and cursing. He knew he needed to help Sarah but was having a hard time battling back the shadows stealing over at him. As the all-consuming pain and blessed darkness carried him away, he thought he heard Sarah screaming and the clatter of hooves pounding down the gravel road.

  * * *

  “Gabriel!”

  The sharp voice sounded familiar. He didn’t like it. Something stung his face, and he forced his eyes open a crack. A grotesque face stared down at him. Pale. A bruised eye. Mouth swollen to twice its size. Scraggly hair. A fancy hat sitting at a cockeyed angle on her head. A ridiculous pheasant feather dangling down.

  He must be in the middle of a nightmare. If he didn’t know better he would say it was Sarah VanSickle leaning over him, calling his name in sharp, demanding tones and slapping his cheeks, insisting that he get up.