by Carol Cox
“Why haven’t we had any word?” she fretted to Vera, who was setting out a plate of molasses cookies. “How long does it take, anyway?”
Vera, imperturbable as always, cocked an amused eye at Lizzie. “It hasn’t been all that long since Travis was born. Don’t you remember how we waited all day long for news of him?”
“All day!” Lizzie fumed. “I’ll go crazy if I have to stay cooped up much longer.”
“Are you sure you don’t have more on your mind than Judith’s baby?” Vera asked with a knowing look.
Lizzie shot her a sharp glance but didn’t reply. Somehow, Vera always seemed to know what was going on with members of the Bradley household, often before they were aware of it themselves.
“Why don’t you go take some time for yourself?” Vera continued. “I’ll keep an eye on these three until you work off some of that steam.”
“Would you?” Lizzie rushed around the table to give the housekeeper a hug of gratitude. “Thanks, Vera. I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t really need the time alone. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“Oh, get along now,” Vera replied, giving Lizzie a good-natured swat on her behind. “Give that horse of yours a good workout and come back in a better frame of mind, that’s all I ask.”
Like a bird loosed from its cage, Lizzie flew out the door. She had Dancer saddled and was on her way in short order. Bending low over the horse’s neck, she relished the feel of the wind whipping her hair. She wished the wind could blow away the turmoil in her mind as easily.
She gave Dancer his head and exulted in his response, his long stride eating up the ground. Sooner than she would have thought possible, she saw the familiar outline of the cedar grove. Their grove, hers and Tom’s. The perfect place to spend some time by herself to calm her nerves. She pulled Dancer down to a trot, then a walk, to let him cool off after their wild run.
Slipping from her saddle, she was in the process of loosening Dancer’s cinch when she heard hoofbeats not far away. She was startled, but not afraid. In her present mood, she wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone. Just let someone try to tangle with her now!
A thought struck her and twisted her stomach into a knot. What if it was that officious Adam McKenzie, coming to spy on her? She almost hoped it was. She’d give him a piece of her mind! Peering out between the cedars, she saw not Adam’s horse drawing near, but Tom’s.
“Tom!” she cried joyfully. She threw her arms around his neck as soon as he dismounted.
“Whoa! Steady there,” he said, trying to maintain his balance under her unexpected assault. “I saw you coming in here, but I never expected this kind of greeting.” Lizzie realized just how brazen she’d been and stepped back, embarrassed. Tom’s grin widened. “I’m not complaining,” he continued. “In fact, I’d like to try that again.” And suddenly Lizzie found herself held tightly in his arms.
She tensed, then relaxed as she warmed to the feel of his arms around her. Her own arms crept around Tom’s neck again and held him fast, tightening when she felt the beat of his heart beneath her own. “Oh, Tom,” she breathed. “I’m so glad you came! It’s been awful these last few days.”
“Miss me that much?” he asked with a cocky grin. “I think I like that.” Then, seeing her troubled face, his expression sobered. “What’s the matter? What’s been going on?”
“Everything’s the matter!” Lizzie cried, waving her hands dramatically. Tom loosened his grip and she strode back and forth, unable to stand still a moment longer. “It’s my family—all of them. They think you’re some kind of monster. They’ve tried to make me believe you’re a gunfighter, that you’re connected somehow with Billy the Kid, and that you’re leading Willie and me down the path to ruin.”
Lizzie saw Tom freeze in place and watch her with a guarded expression. “Where’d they get ideas like that?” he asked slowly.
“Oh, some crazy notions Uncle Jeff and Adam McKenzie got in their heads. And then when your friend came to lunch today—”
“What friend?” Tom cut in suspiciously.
“He said his name was Henry Antrim.” Lizzie’s eyes glowed with pride while she recounted the fine things he had said. “It was wonderful, Tom. Perfect timing. But then my father came home, and he thinks Henry Antrim is actually Billy the Kid.”
“Your father knows?”
Lizzie went on, oblivious. “He and my mother had me cornered, trying to fill my head with doubts about you. But I stuck up for you, Tom. I didn’t let them sway me. Even when my father said he knew about us meeting, I didn’t back down a bit.” She faltered a moment, noticing his shocked expression for the first time.
“You told your father about us meeting here?” he asked, looking edgy.
“Not to start with. That is, I don’t know how he found out, but when he confronted me, I didn’t deny it.” She laid a trembling hand on his arm. “I couldn’t deny you, Tom. I wouldn’t! And he’ll come around in time. Don’t worry about that. I’ll admit he wasn’t happy when I told him how we felt about each other, but once he gets used to the idea. . .”
She broke off as Tom let out a low moan and paced back and forth, raking his fingers through his hair until the dark brown strands stood on end. Lizzie watched helplessly, unable to understand.
“It’s really all right,” she told him. “I know we weren’t ready to tell him about us yet, but. . .” Her voice trailed off at the look on Tom’s face.
He stopped his pacing and took her by the shoulders. “Lizzie,” he began in a husky voice. She looked at him wonderingly, trustingly. He held her gaze for a moment then averted his eyes. He cleared his throat and started over. “You’re a wonderful girl, Lizzie.” Her heart felt as though it would pound right through her chest. The moment had come at last—he was about to propose! “Way too good for the likes of me,” he continued, and her heart melted as she watched him struggle to find the right words.
“You don’t have to go through all this,” she whispered, wanting to make it easier for him. “I know what you’re trying to say.”
“I don’t think so.” He laughed bitterly and drew a long breath. “Lizzie,” he said, framing her face with his hands, “there is no ‘us.’ ”
She smiled reassuringly and shook her head. “It’s all right,” she repeated. “No matter what they say, I believe in you, Tom. In fact,” she declared boldly, carried away by a sudden idea. “I’ll leave with you right now if you want. Once we’re married, they’ll have to—”
“Hold on, there!” The alarmed note in his voice stopped her as effectively as a dousing with cold water. “Listen to me, Lizzie, and listen good.” One glance at her bewildered face made him groan again.
“Look, honey, I never meant to hurt you. You’re a sweet girl and we’ve had a lot of fun together.” Lizzie felt like she had stepped off a cliff into empty space. This wasn’t going at all the way it was supposed to.
Tom looked at her with pleading eyes, begging her to understand. “But that’s all that it’s been, fun. A good time.”
“A good time?” Lizzie echoed hollowly. “But, Tom, you kissed me! You let me think—”
“Hold on.” Tom held his hand up defensively. “Whatever you thought was all in your own mind, not mine.” He twisted uncomfortably and rubbed his hands together, trying to explain. “I like women, Lizzie. I always have. And they’ve always liked me.” He shrugged, and his lips curled up in a self-deprecating grin that twisted at her heart.
“You mean you’ve done this. . .with other women? It didn’t mean anything special to you?”
Tom’s grin faded a bit and he shifted uneasily. “Come on, Lizzie, you’re making too big a thing out of this. Sure I’ve kissed other women. I’ve done a lot more than kiss some of them, too,” he said, beginning to sound angry. “But you’re such an innocent, I couldn’t go any further with you. I do have some scruples, you know.”
Lizzie couldn’t answer. She just stood there looking at him with wounded eyes. Without another word, he
grabbed his horse’s reins and swung into the saddle.
He paused at the edge of the grove and turned to her one last time. “I’m leaving now. Knowing how your father feels, I don’t think I’ll be welcome here much longer.” Her expression didn’t change, and his voice grew rough with irritation. “It’s time you grew up, Lizzie. Quit acting like I’ve done something terrible. I didn’t do a thing to hurt you, not really. And you never know,” he continued, the familiar heart-stopping grin beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth, “I may have done you a favor by waking you up a bit. You may wind up thanking me for this after all.” He spurred his mount and loped off toward the distant hills.
Lizzie stood frozen in place. Finally she moved one stiff leg forward, then the other, until she was just inside the protective shelter of the trees. Standing with one hand braced against the trunk of a small cedar, she watched numbly as Tom’s figure dwindled to a speck in the distance and then topped a low hill to disappear from her life forever.
fourteen
Lizzie turned and made her stumbling way back to the fallen log. Their log. She looked again at the places she had treasured. The promises she thought they held had turned out to be empty, and she felt as if their very existence mocked her.
She clung to the numbness, wrapping herself in its folds as if it were a protective cocoon. If she waited long enough, surely this would turn out to be nothing more than a bad dream. But never, never in a million years, would she have dreamed Tom would betray her trust and then ride away.
Lizzie could feel her protective armor cracking, and she fought against it. If she could preserve this blessed lack of feeling, she might somehow live through this moment. But the first pricks of pain skirted their way through the fragile shell and opened the way for other, stronger shafts of anguish that assured her this was no dream, but bitter reality.
Tom’s words came back to dance through her mind, tormenting her thoughts. What was it he’d said? “Quit acting like I’ve done something terrible. I never meant to hurt you.” If only he knew!
Lizzie’s legs began to tremble so that she could barely stand. Then they gave way altogether and she pitched forward onto her knees and buried her face in her lap. How could she have been so foolish?
She pressed her hands over her eyes, trying to blot out the sight of those places she had thought so special. Despite her efforts, her mind pitilessly replayed every memory of every moment she and Tom had spent together.
Lizzie writhed with humiliation as those scenes unfolded. Looking at them with the eyes of her painful new knowledge, she could see how naive she must have seemed to Tom, whose worldly experience vastly outweighed her own. How he must have laughed, she thought miserably, seeing how easily she had been duped! She had yielded to everything he asked of her, would have run off at a single word from him, she remembered with mortification. And those moments she deemed so precious had never meant anything to him at all.
Lizzie rocked back and forth, her breath coming out in helpless little whimpers that grew into racking sobs. Know-ing she was utterly alone, Lizzie gave way to her feelings and wailed aloud as she poured out her pain, her grief, her shame.
❧
Adam McKenzie rode in a slow loop that would bring him back to ranch headquarters soon after dark. What a whirlwind day this had turned out to be! He had thought he would be glad to see Tom Mallory’s true character unmasked. But after Charles’s revelation and the following confrontation between him and Lizzie, then Jeff’s rapid departure to see to the birth of his fourth child, Adam had had enough emotional turmoil for one day.
He had volunteered to look over the area Charles and Jeff wanted to fence, knowing it would take him the rest of the day to finish the job, and welcoming the solitude it offered. After what he’d gone through, Adam felt he was due for some peace and quiet.
Inspecting the area had meant a fair amount of physical exertion but involved little thought, just what he’d needed to calm his spirit and clear his brain. The lengthy ride gave him plenty of time to do some serious praying, too, something Adam was grateful for.
He leaned back in his saddle, more relaxed than he had been in days, and enjoyed his horse’s smooth, even gait. When the bay’s ears pricked up and pointed straight ahead, it took a moment to register in Adam’s mind. Then he snapped out of his reverie and looked to see what had caught the animal’s attention.
In the distance, a lone rider emerged from a stand of trees. The rider halted and turned his mount slightly, as though he meant to turn back, then wheeled the horse around and headed south at a gallop.
Adam stopped and tried to puzzle it out. As far as he knew, no Bradley riders should have been in the area, and no one else had any call to be there. Of course, it could have been a drifter who found a shady spot for an afternoon rest. But why pause and turn back, almost as if talking to someone else there? And why ride away in such a hurry?
Moreover, the outline of horse and rider bore a striking resemblance to Tom Mallory, and Adam could see no reason for him to be stopping there. No good reason, that is. But with Mallory, who could tell?
It bore checking out, Adam thought as he nudged his horse into a trot, then a lope. Adam didn’t like mysteries. He preferred things to be honest and open, and there had been far too many things lately that had been anything but. He’d be glad to satisfy his curiosity on this point so easily.
He slowed again as he neared the trees, looking for tracks and any other telltale signs that might help him grasp the situation. He cut across the trail of the other horse and felt a grim satisfaction as he recognized the tracks of Mallory’s mount. He had come along here, paused for a moment or two, then continued toward the trees. Finding a quiet spot to practice his gunslinging? Adam wondered.
The bay halted of its own accord at the same moment Adam heard the sound. An eerie wail, rising and falling, only to rise again, sounding like an animal in torment. Not daring to speculate on what he might find, he jabbed his spurs into his horse’s flanks and headed into the trees at a gallop.
Adam pulled his horse to a sliding stop as he spotted another horse standing head down in the clearing. Dancer? He swung around frantically, and his heart stood still at the sight of a disheveled Lizzie crumpled in a heap in the dust, howling out her misery like a lost soul.
He froze for a moment, fearing the worst. Then he leapt toward her and gathered her in his arms. “Lizzie, sweetheart, what is it?” he murmured gently, all the while thinking, Mallory! If he’s harmed her, he’ll regret the day he was born!
He pressed her head against his chest with one hand and stroked her hair, comforting her as he would a frightened child. To his great relief, Lizzie didn’t resist his embrace, but leaned against his shoulder and continued to weep.
Adam settled Lizzie into his lap, feeling the warmth of her body, feeling it quiver against him. He crooned endearments in her ear, not knowing whether she heard, but hoping the soothing sounds would calm her. The sweetness of this proximity was something Adam would have wanted to prolong had it been under happier circumstances. Now, though, it was vital to find out just what was wrong before Tom Mallory gained too much of a head start.
“Shh, honey, settle down. I need to talk to you,” he whispered, smoothing moist wisps of hair away from her forehead with his fingertips. “Can you hear me, Lizzie?” Sobs continued to rack her body and her shoulders jerked convulsively, although her cries were diminishing in volume.
Adam groaned inwardly, even as he tightened his hold on her. Lizzie, my love, I can’t stand seeing you like this. I promise you, if Mallory has harmed you in any way, I’ll take care of that sorry piece of trash myself!
Finally, only a few pitiful moans escaped her lips, and while her breath continued to come in jerky gasps, it seemed to Adam that most of the tumult had passed. Breathing more easily himself, he loosened his hold on Lizzie, rocking gently as he cradled her in his arms.
The fervent wish that she were there of her own accord was immediately fo
llowed by a mental tongue-lashing. Adam berated himself for enjoying a situation that had cost Lizzie so much. And what that cost might be was something that needed to be determined quickly, he reminded himself, before the miscreant had time to complete his getaway.
Adam put a finger under Lizzie’s chin and tilted her head back gently. It took a moment for her eyes, still blurred by tears, to focus on his face, and another moment before she seemed fully aware of who he was. When awareness of his presence registered on her features, she ducked her head again and laid it trustingly against his chest. Adam thrilled to the knowledge that she did this of her own volition, and his hand trembled as he tenderly wiped the tears from her sodden cheeks.
How he’d love to stay like this, enjoying her nearness and being her source of comfort! But duty reared its stern head and reminded him that he needed information, and needed it now.
How on earth do I ask her? he wondered in a momentary panic. It ought to be her father talking to her like this, or at least Jeff. Lord, he breathed, You’re going to have to give me the words and the strength, because I can’t do this one on my own.
“Lizzie?” he asked tentatively. “Can you hear me now?” She swiveled slightly in his lap, raising her face to meet his. Her lips still quivered, but he was relieved to see that her breathing had steadied.
She nodded slowly, her eyes dull. “Yes, Adam. I hear you.”
Adam swallowed and tried to work some moisture into his suddenly dry mouth. “When I was riding up, I saw someone leaving here. It looked like—like Mallory. Was it?”
Lizzie’s lips quivered even more and Adam could feel the tremor that ran through her body at the mention of Mallory’s name. “Was it?” he repeated gently.
She lowered her eyes. “Yes. It was him.”
Adam drew a ragged breath. “Lizzie, I have to ask you this. Lord knows I don’t want to, but I need to know. Did he. . .did he hurt you?”
