End of the Trail

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End of the Trail Page 13

by Vickie McDonough


  Brooks explained how Will offered him the job of helping him out and how they became friends. “Your uncle was mighty sick. Much sicker than he let folks know, and I think that’s why he hired me.”

  “I don’t understand why he never told me. I could have taken care of him.”

  Brooks pursed his lips and shook his head. “He wouldn’t have liked that, Keri. Will needed a man tending him. He’d have been embarrassed to death to have you see him as helpless as he was at times.”

  She shot a glance at him. “How long had he been sick, do you know?”

  He shrugged. “For a while. He moved into town so he could be closer to the doctor, at least that’s what he told me.”

  They paused at the pond and let the horses drink.

  “You were right about the windmill.”

  He smiled. “I do believe that’s the first time I’ve heard you say those words.”

  “Which words?” She scowled.

  “You were right.” He chuckled, his shoulders dancing with mirth.

  “Well … enjoy them, because it might be the last time I say them.” She reined Bob toward home and rode off at a fast clip.

  Brooks quickly caught up with her.

  “Do you think Uncle Will could have been ill before I left?”

  “Could be. Maybe that’s why he sent you to that school in the first place. So you wouldn’t watch him go downhill.”

  Keri dismounted in front of the barn, then led Bob in. It made sense that her uncle sent her away because he knew he was ill and was only going to get worse. But she wanted confirmation. Tomorrow, she’d ride into town and talk to Doc Brown.

  She had to know for certain why her uncle sent her away, just like her ma had.

  Doc Brown pursed his lips and stared at Keri, his eyes brimming with sympathy. “There’s no easy way to tell you, Miss Langston, but your uncle had cancer.”

  Keri sucked in a sharp breath as tears pooled in her eyes and then cascaded down her cheeks. She wanted to believe the tears were from the pungent odors in his office, but she knew that wasn’t the truth. Her uncle had been sick—dying—and he’d never uttered a word to her.

  “How long had he known about it?”

  “Over two years.”

  Two years? Keri thought back to the day she left for school. Just under two years ago, Uncle Will had suddenly decided she needed to learn to be a lady and had rushed her off to that awful place. It all made sense now. She ducked her head, thinking of all the letters she’d sent home, pleading for him to allow her return to Raven Creek. She had fussed and fumed over being sent away. She had thought he was just tired of messing with her, but truth was, he was protecting her. He hadn’t wanted her to see him when he was sick. “Did Uncle Will know about this before I went away to school?” she asked, to confirm her theory.

  Doc Brown pursed his lips and nodded. “He and I talked about his illness at length. I told him that it would probably be a long haul and not too pretty at the end.” He glanced out the window. “I’m sorry if that’s hard for you to hear, but I think you deserve to know the truth.”

  “I appreciate your telling me. I just wish Uncle Will had been honest with me. It hurts to think I missed the last few years of his life.” She stared out the window at the wagon Brooks had driven to town. She’d been snippy to him because he’d insisted on escorting her when she wanted to ride alone, and she had refused his offer to accompany her in the doctor’s office. Now, she wished she hadn’t been so petulant.

  “I know Will was trying to protect you by sending you away to that school.”

  Keri fiddled with her handkerchief and stared into her lap, guilt weighting her down. “There were so many times I hated him for sending me away to that place.”

  “Was it so bad?”

  She shrugged. “Probably not for most people, but I hadn’t grown up normally, at least not like the rest of the girls. I missed Uncle Will, Nate and Jess, my horses, and my pants.”

  Doc chuckled. “I’m surprised to see you wearing a skirt today.”

  “I’m trying to fit into society—kind of.” She leaned forward. “Don’t tell anyone, but it’s really a split skirt, so I can ride and still maintain proper propriety. At least that’s what Lulu Dunn says.”

  Doc Brown squeezed her hand in a paternal manner. “Well, you look very pretty. Your uncle would be mighty proud of the lady you’ve become.”

  “Thank you.” She stood. “I’ve kept you long enough. I appreciate your candidness, Doc.”

  He nodded and walked to the door and opened it. Keri paused just inside. “Mr. Morgan thinks that Uncle Will might have been—” She swallowed hard, finding the hateful word more difficult to verbalize than she’d expected. “Um … murdered. Have you found any more evidence of that?”

  He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I wish I could say I had proof, but I suspect your uncle was smothered.”

  Keri gasped and lifted her hand to cover her mouth. Her heart felt as if someone had squeezed it tight in an angry fist. How could anyone overpower the strong man she remembered? But then, he probably wasn’t the same man she’d seen last Christmas. Even then, he had been thinner than she could ever remember him being. Had Uncle Will fought back against his attacker? Had he been frightened?

  The doctor eyed her with compassion. “There’s more, I’m afraid.”

  Keri nodded for him to continue. She held her hands together, trying to stop them from trembling.

  “I also believe someone forced Will to swallow all of his pain pills. I’d just refilled the bottle. I don’t believe he suffered much, if any. With that many pills in his system, he pretty much would have just gone to sleep.”

  Keri squeezed her forehead with her fingers, trying to understand all he said. “But why would anyone want to kill Uncle Will? As far as I know, he didn’t have a single enemy.” Tears burned her eyes, but she struggled to maintain her composure until she was alone.

  The doc rubbed his chin. “I didn’t think he did either. It could have just been a drifter passing through.”

  Keri glanced outside to where Brooks had parked the wagon across the street. He was nowhere to be seen. “Speaking of drifters, what is your opinion of Mr. Morgan?”

  The doctor leaned against the door and crossed his arms over his chest. “I think your uncle was mighty fortunate that Brooks Morgan came along when he did. Not many men I know would have taken such good care of a sick, old man like Brooks did. He quickly earned the respect of anyone who knew Will.”

  She certainly hadn’t expected such a response as that. “One more question, and I’ll quit pestering you. You were at that card game when Brooks won the ranch, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Do you think he cheated?”

  The doc burst out laughing. Embarrassed, Keri stared at the waiting room chairs on the other side of the room.

  “That boy was the worst card player I think I’ve ever seen. It was just dumb luck that he won the final hand. He cleaned us all out. I think Will thought he’d won. That’s the only way I can see him turning loose of the deed to Raven Creek.” He shook his head. “Felt real sorry for him when all his money got stolen the night your uncle died. He probably lost nearly a hundred dollars.”

  Keri breathed in a deep breath. The doc’s story matched up with the marshal’s, only Doc Brown filled in a lot of the cracks in Brooks’s story. “Thank you, again.”

  She stood at the edge of the boardwalk. How many times had she resented her uncle for sending her to that school? He’d known he was dying and had done it to protect her. To keep her from witnessing him growing weak and incapacitated. Guilt seeped into every pore of her body.

  The door opened and Doc stepped out. He rubbed his chin again. “I’ve been wrestling with something. Don’t know if I should mention it or not.”

  “I’ll die of curiosity if you don’t, now that you’ve mentioned it. What is it?”

  “It’s just speculation, mind you. But I think Will might have purpos
ely lost the ranch because he’d grown to care so much about Brooks. Maybe Will thought you needed a man to care for you, what with Saul Dengler so set on having Raven Creek.”

  “Why, that’s absurd. I’m more than capable of running the ranch myself.”

  The doc held up one hand, palm out. “Now I said it’s just my opinion, but I’ve talked with the marshal, and he feels the same.”

  Pushing back her irritation at such an unbelievable theory, she nodded and walked down the steps and across the dirt road. Was it actually possible her uncle lost the ranch to Brooks on purpose?

  She walked behind a wagon, and a dog lurched up, paws on the sideboard, barking viciously. She jumped sideways to keep from being bit, and stepped in something soft. Squishy. The dog seemed content to stay in its wagon, snarling and growling. Keri glanced down at her dress boot covered in manure. “That’s wonderful. Can my day get any worse?”

  “Hey, Keri.” Brooks took the steps two at a time, grinning like a possum, and waved toward her shoe. “Looks like you weren’t watching where you were going.” He took her elbow and led her to the steps. “Put your foot up there.”

  She did as ordered, holding on to his shoulder for balance. He whipped his handkerchief from his pocket.

  “Wait, you can’t use your handkerchief for that. What if you need it?”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “That’s why God made sleeves.” Bending down, he wiped the crud off the top and sides of her boot. He straightened and held the hanky away from his clothes. “Just scrape the rest off on the step.”

  “Thank you, Sir Galahad.” She did as ordered—again. A cowboy on horseback rode past them, chuckling. Keri felt like flinging a present at him, but the image of her schoolmistress collapsing from apoplexy held her in check. Her day just kept getting worse and worse.

  Brooks took the soiled hanky and tossed it in the alley, then hustled back to her, smiling ear to ear. “It’s a good thing we got you cleaned up.”

  “And why is that?” she said, wrinkling her nose at the pungent odor surrounding her.

  “Because we can’t have you smelling like manure when you see your mother.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Keri grabbed Brooks’s sleeve. “Don’t ever tease about a thing like that.”

  He blinked and looked surprised. “I’m not joking. The marshal sent me to get you. Said there was a woman in his office looking for you, and she said she was your ma.”

  Brooks’s face blurred, and Keri’s knees buckled.

  “Whoa, hang on, Missy. Have a seat on the step.”

  He turned her around, and she stiffened, regaining her composure. “I can’t sit there. It’s filthy, and besides, I’m fine.”

  He narrowed one eye and stared at her as if gauging her steadiness.

  “I said I’m fine. Now, take me home.”

  “Uh … didn’t you hear me? I said your ma is at the marshal’s office.”

  She stomped her foot, spun around, and started to go around the wagon, and set off the snarling dog again—the dog she’d already forgotten about. Keri leapt back, bumping into Brooks. He grabbed her, swung her around, and walked her away from the horrible creature. “Dogs like that shouldn’t be allowed in town. Good thing it’s tied up.”

  “He’s just protecting his master’s goods.”

  “He nearly bit my face off.”

  Brooks trailed a finger down her cheek. “Now that would be a crying shame.”

  Keri ignored the delicious sensations his touch stirred in her and nudged him in the side. “Stop joking.”

  “I’m not. C’mon.” He guided her up a relatively clean set of steps and turned her in the direction of the marshal’s office. She suddenly stopped, and he had to take a step sideways to keep from bowling her over. He pulled her to the railing to allow another couple to pass. “What’s wrong now?”

  “Are you being serious? About my mother, I mean?” What could she want? Keri wasn’t even certain her mother was still alive, and if she was, why hadn’t she come sooner?

  Brooks’s smile faded. “Why would I joke about something like that?”

  Keri shrugged and rolled her eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. You joke about everything else, why not that?”

  “You look like her, you know?”

  “Who?”

  “Your mother. You have the same blonde hair, blue eyes, and pretty face. Similar but different, but if you ask me, she don’t hold a candle to you.”

  A tiny grin pulled at her lips, but it quickly disappeared. She crinkled her forehead. “What do you say to a mother who gave you away? And why is she here now, after all these years?”

  “Guess you’ll have to ask her yourself.”

  Keri’s nervousness was visible in her expression, the way she worried her lower lip and fidgeted. He could well imagine feeling the same way if his parents had suddenly showed up and were waiting to see him. He brushed his hand down her shoulder to her lower back. “We’ll wait out here until you’re ready to go in.”

  She nodded and crushed the lacy handkerchief in her fist. “It’s just …” She glanced up with pain-filled eyes. “I never expected to see her again. What do I say to her? How do I keep from screaming at her for abandoning me?”

  “A mother doesn’t give her daughter away unless there’s good reason.” He turned her to face him and rested both hands on her shoulders. “Take a deep breath.”

  She scowled and tried to jerk away. “What good will that do?”

  “It will help to calm you. Steady you.”

  She brushed one hand off his arm. “I am calm.”

  Brooks couldn’t help grinning. “Calm as a rabid dog.”

  She gazed up at him, a combination of irritation and a wisp of humor on her pretty face. “Be careful, or I just might bite you.”

  Chuckling, his smile widened. “I look forward to that.”

  She smacked his chest. “You’re a rascal, you know that?”

  “So I’ve been told on more than one occasion, Miss Langston.”

  She gazed deeply into his eyes. “Thank you for being here.”

  He gently brushed the back of his finger down her cheek. “Anytime, darlin’.”

  Keri stared up at Brooks, and felt as if their gazes were locked together. Why did being with this varmint feel so right? Why couldn’t she feel as comfortable with Carl, a man who could give her anything she wanted, except for Raven Creek? She shook her head and broke the connection with Brooks. All that was thought for another day. Her mother was waiting. “I guess I’d better go see what she has to say.”

  “Play nice, Keri.”

  She seared him with a scorching glare. “Let’s hope she plays nice.”

  “I’ll wait for you outside.”

  “No!” She snagged his sleeve. “You come too.”

  She tugged him along, not listening to his objections that he wasn’t family and shouldn’t be there. At the marshal’s door, she paused, her heart hammering faster than it ever had. She wiped her damp palms on her skirt and glanced over her shoulder at Brooks.

  “It will be all right. Go on in.”

  She took a deep breath—though it did little to calm her—and opened the door. Over the years, she’d tried to hang on to the mental image she had of her mother—a smaller woman, with thick yellow hair, and pretty blue eyes that only seemed to light up when they looked her direction. She remembered rosy red cheeks and fancy dresses. Keri looked into the shadows of the room and found a woman dressed in a plain, gray traveling dress and jacket. Gone were the rosy cheeks and colorful dress. The poofy hair had been pulled back into a tight, neat bun, and her eyes remained somber, but as they landed on her they ignited with light. The woman stood but didn’t approach her.

  Marshal Lane tipped his hat. “I’ll give you folks some privacy.”

  “Do you know me, Keri?”

  “How could I know you when I haven’t seen you in eleven years?”

  Grace Langston dipped her head. “Fair enough. But I’m hoping
to make amends for that, if you’ll let me.”

  Keri walked to the window, staring out at the street. The wagon with the beastly dog drove by, and the stupid mutt sat on the seat behind his owner, his tongue lolling and a contented grin on his face. She suddenly felt a kindred spirit to that beast. Happy as a tick on a hound dog one minute then snarling at a stranger—her own mother—the next.

  She leaned her forehead against the warm glass. What was she going to do? How could she relate to this stranger from the past who’d abandoned her—the stranger she had focused her anger and hurt on for so many years?

  Brooks leaned against the wall, keeping quiet but encouraging her with his eyes.

  Taking a deep breath, she turned and faced her mother, all manner of emotions roiling through her. “Why have you come? Why now?”

  Grace Langston offered a weary smile. As Keri stared at her mother, she realized how tired—how old her mother seemed. Surely she couldn’t be as old as she looked. Hadn’t she been a pretty and young woman when Keri stilled lived with her?

  “I’ve made many mistakes in my life, and I’d like a chance to make amends.”

  Keri crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin. “How do you make up for giving away your child?”

  Her mother looked down and wrung her hands. “It was for the best, Keri. You couldn’t stay with me much longer.”

  “Why not?”

  Her mother’s tired, blue gaze shot upward. “Surely your uncle explained things once you were old enough to understand.”

  “He never explained anything, and I wasn’t allowed to even ask questions about you.”

  “I’m sorry. I thought you knew.” Her eyes blinked rapidly, and she glanced at Brooks.

  He straightened. “I can step outside, if you want me to.”

  “No. You stay.” Keri held up her palm, then looked back at her mother. “I want you to tell my why you sent me away.”

  Grace wrung her hands in her lap. “You were seven and such a beautiful little girl. It tore my heart out, but I had to let you go, for your own protection.”

 

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