He formed a yellow cross on Molly’s head, chest, arms, and legs. Matt watched as Cale’s actions electrified the atmosphere. The air became charged with life and death, something Matt had experienced countless times, but never in this way. It was as if the four of them stood on the threshold of the land of the living and the realm of the dead, and Molly had to decide which one to inhabit. One glance at Nathan and Logan—their somber expressions transfixed on the scene—told him they weren’t immune to the reverence of the moment either.
They held vigil over Molly’s body as the night slipped away, Cale repeatedly stoking the fire. “Sweat cleanses the body,” he said.
“I would’ve never pegged you for a healer, Walker,” Nathan said quietly from across the fire.
Cale leaned back against a nearby tree, rubbing his eyes. “One of my best kept secrets. Might ruin my reputation as a bounty hunter if word got out I was a di-yin.”
Nathan laughed, though his expression was tired and haggard. “Yeah, I suppose it would.”
“How did you find us?” Logan stretched out on the ground several feet away.
“When my pa came to, I had a long talk with him.” Cale paused. “It seems he and Sawyer had a long history together, one that began when Sawyer came to him after Robert Hart kicked him off his ranch. Apparently, Sawyer filled him with stories about Hart stealing cattle and changing the brand. As it turned out, Sawyer was stealing from my pa as well as Molly’s family. He probably took Ryan beeves as well.”
“He was behind the attack on the Harts, wasn’t he?” Nathan said.
“That’s why Pa and Sawyer argued the other night,” Cale said. “Pa finally realized what Sawyer had done, that he’d organized the attack, and Pa let slip Molly was alive. That seemed to set Sawyer off. He unloaded a few shots from a pistol and ran, I guess because he thought my pa would turn him in.
“Once I learned this, I decided to track him, not stopping until the little shit was dead. I rode to the SR to see if any of you’d give me a hand, and that’s when Jonathan told me y’all went in search of Molly.” Cale contemplated the fire a moment. “What I don’t understand is why Sawyer grabbed her.”
“He blamed her, I think,” Matt said quietly from his spot beside Molly. “She turned him in.”
“For what?” Cale asked.
“According to my ma, the reason Sawyer was let go from the Harts’ was because he tried to force himself on Molly.”
Cale stared at him. “But she was just a child.”
“If he weren’t dead already, I’d give you a shot at him,” Matt said coldly. “But only after I was finished with him.”
Cale put another log on the fire, then sat back. “Somehow I doubt there’d be anything left after you got through with him.”
On that point, Matt agreed.
* * *
By mid-morning, Molly was feverish, thrashing about, crying, and talking incoherently. Matt felt encouraged—at least she was responding in some way—but Cale’s flat expression made him feel immediately defeated. Cale brewed a tea from prickly ash bark, and he and Matt tried to get as much into Molly as they could.
Nathan and Logan set out to scout the area while Matt remained near Molly’s restless body. Cale suggested he sleep, but Matt couldn’t. Looking weary, Cale reclined on the ground and tried to doze but Molly’s voice startled him awake a short while later.
“Pasinugia,” she cried.
Cale sat up.
“She’s not awake,” Matt said, concerned.
“Niatz! Uehquétzutzu!”
“What’s she saying?” Cale asked.
“I’m not sure, but it sounds Comanche. Something about a snake, I think.”
Cale felt her forehead. “I’ll make more tea, then we should check her legs again. I have some acorn oil that might help with the dryness.”
The two men ministered to Molly for the rest of the day. Nathan and Logan returned at dusk with two rabbits and three wild turkeys. The food helped revive their dwindling spirits.
As they sat around the fire, Matt forced himself to eat but even swallowing was a hardship. Nothing seemed important to him anymore as long as there was a chance he might lose Molly.
“I’m hungry.” Her voice startled all of them.
Matt moved swiftly to her side.
“Molly.” His heart pounded as she looked into his eyes.
She tried to smile, but winced from the effort. “I’m so glad you’re here.” Her voice was scratchy and hoarse.
“Try not to move,” Matt said gently. “Cale thinks some of your ribs are broken.”
“I can believe it,” she whispered. “My chest hurts like a son-of-a-bitch.”
“You always did swear too much as a child,” Cale said from beside her.
Molly glanced up at him. “I learned it from you and Matt.” Her eyes moved to Nathan and Logan, standing nearby. “What are all of you doing here?”
“Watching over you,” Matt said. “Cale’s been taking care of you.”
She tried smiling again, only half getting there. “Thank you.”
“Matt’s the one you should thank,” Cale replied. “He hasn’t left your side since we found you.”
Standing, Cale gestured for Nathan and Logan to follow. They disappeared toward the creek so Matt could be alone with the woman of his heart.
Relief and gratitude consumed him like nothing he’d ever experienced in all his twenty-eight years. Drinking in the sight of Molly alive—her blue eyes still vibrant despite pain, fatigue, and exhaustion—he was reminded of her strength and the sheer determination she’d possessed during her long ordeal over the last ten years. He should’ve known her spirit wouldn’t be so easily tempted by the escape of death. Her right cheek was covered with black and blue bruises and her lower lip remained swollen, but she had never looked more beautiful to him.
She would survive. A warm wind blew the darkness of the night from Matt’s bones, and he inhaled life as he never had before.
Stroking hair from her face, he smiled, knowing his eyes watered. “You had me scared,” he said.
“How did you find me?”
“We’ve been tracking you since you left the SR. Why did you leave?”
Trying to lick her dry lips, she looked away from him. “Mrs. McAllister—”
“Isn’t worth another thought,” Matt finished for her. “Whatever she said, it’s not true. My folks insisted I bring you back. You belong with us.”
“But you don’t deserve the talk, what people are saying, and your family...I couldn’t do that to them.”
“I couldn’t care less what people think, and neither could my folks. If it’s any consolation, my pa kicked Elizabeth McAllister out of the house on her bony, spiteful ass.”
She tried to laugh, but instead groaned. Then, she started to cry.
Matt took her hand and leaned close. “Sweetheart, your home is at the SR now. Your home is with me.”
Nerves gripped him. It hadn’t occurred to him until now that Molly might not want to stay with him, might not agree to be his wife. She’d welcomed him into her bed with an amazing openness, but maybe that was the extent of it.
“Matt, stop.” Still weakened, she was barely able to put a hand to his chest. “Before you say anything else, you must know I can’t change the last ten years. I spent half my life with the Kwahadi and I’ll always carry that with me. I’m not ashamed by it—they were good people—but it would kill me to bring shame to you or your folks because of it.”
“Well, then you don’t have to worry. We’ve never held that against you, and never will.” He clasped her hand with great care. “I always planned to do right by you. Maybe I’m not prime husband material, but since that night we were together I realized I could never watch you walk away from me. I could never watch you find another man to settle down with. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, a damaged Ranger without a roof to call his own. But if you’ll let me, I’d like to try and give you a better life than the one you�
�ve known.”
She sobbed convulsively, so Matt kissed her, gently wiping her tears with his thumbs.
“I love you,” he whispered, brushing his nose against hers, “and I hope to God you feel the same.”
“Of course I do,” she said on another sob, followed by a hiccup.
His lips softly met hers and he savored the simple fact they were together. For the first time, he felt a sense of closure on the gaping loss her disappearance ten years ago had inflicted on his heart. He marveled that he’d found her at all. How easily he might never have known she lived, how easily the paths of their lives might never have crossed.
But he had found her, and he knew with a certainty deep in his heart and the very essence of himself that he was meant to love Molly Hart. She was the missing part of himself he had never understood was gone until she had filled his life with her presence, touching his heart and healing his soul.
“Since I have no experience in asking a woman to marry me, I hope you realize that there’s a marriage proposal in there, too.”
“It’s all right.” She smiled as much as her bruised lip would allow, sniffing and wiping her nose. “I’m nowhere near a gussied-up society lady. I hope you realize what you’re getting.”
“I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
Lying down beside her, he held his future wife close.
Chapter Thirty-One
Cale, Nathan, and Logan returned well after dark, having snared a rabbit for Molly. Nathan quickly skinned and roasted the animal, and she was able to eat a small amount. Cale prepared another batch of tea for her.
Molly made a face after her first sip. “Do you make this for all the girls?” she asked. “It’s awful.”
“Quit complaining.” Cale sat across the fire from her. “And I only make it for certain girls.”
When Molly glanced at him, he grinned. Tears filled her eyes as she returned the smile, accepting the fact she and Cale shared the same father. There were so many things to acknowledge and at the top of the list was her ordeal with Sawyer. Still shaky, she had avoided thinking about any of it. The constant pain in her chest and the raw fire-burns on her legs certainly helped keep her mind from the details.
Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she took another sip of tea as she sat on the bed they had fashioned for her. Matt gently stroked her back, the touch reminding her of the one good outcome of all of this.
She and Matt would have a life together—an amazing, almost unreal, possibility considering all that had happened. He wanted everything with her. Until he’d said he loved her, she hadn’t realized just how much she’d ached for such a life, or just how strongly she had come to love him in return. For so long, she’d been alone. And now, she wasn’t. It would take some getting used to.
“How did you come to spend time with the Apache?” she asked Cale, not sure what kind of relationship she could have with her new brother, but thought they should start somewhere.
“I was attacked by a mountain lion.” As he spoke, he shrugged one shoulder out of his shirt to reveal a jagged and knotted scar. Chunks of flesh were missing.
“Jesus, Cale.” Logan’s voice held a combination of concern and disbelief. “You’re lucky to be alive.”
“Yeah.” Cale slid his shirt back into place. “That’s what the local shaman thought, too. After they nursed me back to health, they insisted I consider the path of a di-yin. The mountain lion marked me. They believed it was a part of my spirit.”
“So a medicine man taught you?” Molly asked.
Cale nodded. “And also a medicine woman.”
“Apache women can do that?” she asked in surprise.
“Not usually, as near as I could tell, but this woman had been struck by lightning, and became greatly revered in the tribe because of it. The Apache can be very superstitious.” He threw another log on the fire.
“The Kwahadi were superstitious about snakes. Did you know I almost put one under your pillow, when you worked at our ranch years ago?”
The four men watched her in silence.
“It was just a harmless little thing,” she continued, staring into the fire. Pausing, she considered her next words. “That same day I also did something terrible after I caught George Sawyer in the bunkhouse with Emma.” Her voice was just a whisper now as she remembered, overwhelmed by the need to confess.
“It wasn’t you he attacked?” Matt asked her.
“No. It was Emma, but she was frightened and I wanted to protect her. And I wanted to make sure Sawyer was punished for it, so I lied to my father.” She glanced at Cale, shaking her head in resignation. “I lied to Robert Hart. I told him it was me, and I heaped a bunch of falsehoods on it to make sure Sawyer didn’t get away with anything.”
“If it’s any consolation,” Matt said, resting his hand against her neck, “I’m fairly certain Robert gave Sawyer quite a beating that day.”
“No,” she said forcefully, “you don’t understand. Sawyer came back and killed my folks because of me, because of the lies I told. It was my fault. If I’d just handled it differently, none of this would’ve happened.”
“You were nine years old, Molly,” Logan said. “You could hardly have known how things would play out.”
“Don’t play this game with yourself,” Nathan said. “It won’t help. Sawyer set certain things in motion. I doubt anything would’ve stopped him.”
“From what my old man said, Sawyer was into a lot of illegal activity,” Cale said. “He was a conniving piece of shit, playing all angles. He also slithered around as the lowest form of life because he preferred little girls to women.” With more compassion in his voice, he continued, “You shouldn’t think for a minute any of it was your fault. Everyone in your family paid a high price the night Sawyer attacked your ranch, maybe you most of all. He got exactly what he deserved when you killed him.”
The thought sickened her all over again. She had ended a man’s life. It hardly made her happy, or left her feeling proud over what she’d done. It had been necessary, she told herself. But was that really true? She had no idea.
“Molly,” Matt said. “Sawyer was a dead man.”
Looking over her shoulder at him, she saw the certainty and resolution in his eyes. Matt had had every intention of killing George Sawyer before this ordeal was through.
“Bad luck put you there instead of me,” he continued, “but don’t for one minute regret what you did. After what he’d done to you, do you think Sawyer was going to let you live?”
Molly considered his words, and more tears filled her eyes. She knew he was right, that what all of them said held merit. The past was gone, only full of memories, betrayals and, most of all, regrets. Her own regrets. Could she live with them? She had no choice but to try.
As if reading her thoughts, Matt said, “We’ll face the demons of the past together. It’ll get easier in time.”
One part of the circle was finally closed.
Maybe now, her mama, Robert Hart and Adelaide could rest in peace. And maybe, in time, peace would find Molly as well.
She slept soundly that night, with no dreams. Matt never left her. The fire warmed her on one side while Matt’s body warmed her on the other.
The next morning, Nathan and Logan rode ahead of them with Sawyer’s body. Logan planned to ride home and inform his folks that Molly had been found. Nathan would ride to Fort Richardson to drop the body and file a report.
Molly could only ride Pecos at a slow gait, so Matt and Cale flanked her as they rode slowly through what had once been Comanche territory. She couldn’t help but reflect on what had happened to her in the last ten years.
Her time spent with the Kwahadi had been bittersweet. Just when she had begun to forge a bond with her Comanche family, they’d abruptly traded her. Were they still alive? Did they ever think of her? She hoped they’d found at least some measure of happiness on the reservation. Staying in one place permanently would have been a huge adjustment for them, she knew.
Was it an adjustment for her, too? Could she reside in one place with Matt from this point forward?
They hadn’t really discussed any details of how or where they would live once they married. Glancing at him on her right, his face shadowed from his hat as well as the makings of a beard, she knew without hesitation it really didn’t matter. She loved him. More than she would ever have thought possible. To be without him would reduce her life to merely an existence.
Anticipation for the future filled her, something she hadn’t had in a very long time. Reflexively, her hand covered her abdomen, bringing a smile to her lips. With the blessings of the Great Spirit, she and Matt might even have children one day.
By nightfall, they were still at least thirty miles from Ryan land, so Matt and Cale made camp, pestered Molly until they both felt she’d eaten enough, then insisted she rest. As soon as she lay down, she was asleep.
* * *
When Matt arrived at his family’s ranch house, he felt a great sense of relief. He’d worried constantly about Molly during the long ride back from the high plains territory. His mother and Rosita came outside immediately to greet them.
“Molly,” Susanna said, reaching up to help her from her horse, “let’s get you inside right away. Rosita, help me.”
Matt dismounted quickly and reached Molly’s side before his ma took charge, easing her gently down from Pecos. Molly smiled up at him, the bruises on her face a harsh reminder of all she’d been through.
“I’m fine, really,” she said, but she leaned much too heavily on him.
“Promise me you’ll sleep for at least three days,” he said.
“Only if Cale doesn’t make me any more tea,” she responded.
“I didn’t realize he had any domestic qualities,” Susanna remarked.
“I don’t,” Cale said from atop his horse.
“Come down from there, Caleb,” Susanna demanded. “You look like you need a rest as well.”
“I appreciate the offer, Mrs. Ryan, but I think I’ll ride on back to Walker land and see how my pa’s doing. Molly, promise me you’ll get some rest. I’ll be back for the wedding.” He turned his horse and was gone.
The Wren Page 22
