by Jodi Thomas
‘‘Afternoon, Win.’’ She smiled at him over her knitting. ‘‘How’s the new wife?’’
‘‘Fine, Mrs. Kendell,’’ Win said, wishing he could ask the woman a few questions. She was ten years his senior, and he’d always thought Kendell got himself a lady of quality when he married Sarah. She treated every customer as though they’d dropped by for tea. There was an honesty about her Winter liked. He wished she would advise him about how he should treat a wife, but judging from Kendell’s example, she might not know.
‘‘I saw you buying her a desk set. She’ll like that, Win.’’
‘‘You think so?’’
Sarah Kendell put down her knitting. ‘‘I can think of only one thing she might like more.’’
Winter watched as she moved her hand along the shelves marked LADIES.
‘‘When she was in here the other day, I helped her pick out a few things. She’s delightful. I remember her from a few times before, but she always seemed too shy to say much.’’ Sarah looked at him with approval in her gaze. ‘‘You’ve been good for her, Win. I could see it in her eyes.’’
He didn’t see how. Sarah’s praise made him shift and want to change the subject. ‘‘Didn’t she pick up any of the ladies’ things when she was in?’’ He remembered seeing what looked to be a new nightgown and wrapper.
Sarah smiled in understanding of his discomfort. ‘‘She chose a few things, but was very conservative in her shopping for personal items. Any woman can always use a few frills, especially when she’s a bride.’’
The woman didn’t need to say more. Winter got the point. ‘‘Would you mind picking out a few things, Mrs. Kendell? And make sure to add another nightgown.’’
‘‘I’d be delighted,’’ Sarah answered. ‘‘A little lace can go a long way in making a woman feel special.’’
He was thankful she didn’t tell him the price or discuss details. He trusted her judgment, and she knew he could afford whatever she selected.
Win thanked her when she handed him the things wrapped in brown paper and tied with string.
‘‘Tell your wife to stop by and visit a while next time she’s in town,’’ Sarah Kendell said. ‘‘She’s a rare one I think, and I’d like to call her a friend.’’
‘‘I’ll tell her,’’ Winter answered as he left the store and put the bundle on the seat.
As he stepped to climb into the wagon, Mary Anna called his name, drawing his attention, spooking the horses, and almost making him fall.
‘‘Yes?’’ he grumbled as he turned.
‘‘Winter, what are you doing in town? I’d think there would be enough to keep you busy on the ranch.’’ She twirled a parasol over her shoulder.
‘‘I’m in kind of a hurry.’’ Win tried to stand still and not be rude. Mary Anna’s aunt and uncle were well known in the county. Once her visit was over and she’d returned to south Texas, he didn’t want bad blood to remain.
She moved closer. Too close, to his way of thinking. He could smell her perfume thick in the air.
‘‘How is that dear little plain wife of yours?’’ Mary Anna’s eyes widened suddenly, and she covered her mouth with a lace glove. ‘‘Oh, my, I didn’t mean to say ‘plain’ out loud!’’ She looked truly horrified for a moment, then smiled as all beautiful women do who are always forgiven. ‘‘I’m sure she tries with what she has.’’
Win wasn’t amused or insulted. Mary Anna was too shallow to affect him. The simple fact that he hadn’t noticed before irritated him. ‘‘My wife is fine.’’ He couldn’t help but compare the over-rouged, overdressed, pampered woman before him to Kora and find the sight standing so near now greatly lacking.
She moved even closer. ‘‘You should have married me,’’ she whispered. ‘‘We’re alike, you and I. We’ll both do anything to get what we want. And we both want the same thing.’’
‘‘No,’’ Win answered without backing up, refusing to allow her to pin him against the wagon. ‘‘I want the land. You want what you can take from it.’’
‘‘You’ll regret not getting rid of her and marrying me. She’s such a fool, she even offered to give you the house. Any woman with the sense of a turnip would keep it in her own name.’’
‘‘It’s over and done,’’ Win answered, seeing no point in discussing his marriage with her. ‘‘We’re married and the house is hers.’’
‘‘No,’’ Mary Anna whispered between snarled teeth. ‘‘It may be done, but it’s not over. Someday you’ll be sorry for making me the laughingstock of this whole town. I told everyone I was riding out to give you another chance. I even ordered clothes for our honeymoon while I was waiting for you to ask again. I wired my father about the marriage just before I came out. You’ll be sorry you made me look the fool.’’
Win turned his back on the lady, not caring how it might look. He climbed into the wagon and slapped the horses into action, suddenly in a hurry to get home.
Normally, Win didn’t like driving a team as much as riding, but it had been practical to pick up supplies if he was coming to town. And today he needed the time to cool off. His teeth hurt from forcing his mouth to remain closed in front of Mary Anna. A hundred replies came to mind. All of which would have caused a stir in the town if he’d voiced them.
On horseback, he would have cut a straight line to his ranch, but by wagon the road was winding and slow. The silence of the afternoon and the boredom offered him time to think. A wife, even one who lied, seemed a far sight better than Mary Anna.
He’d spent hours thinking of Kora these past days and resented most of the time because he felt it had pulled him away from more important duties. But now there was nothing to do. No chores he was neglecting. No men he needed to talk to. No corner of his ranch he should check before dark. Now he could think of Kora and thank his lucky stars that she’d been the one to stand up with him and not Mary Anna.
By the time he reached the ranch house he had several speeches practiced and ready for Kora. He wasn’t going to be one of those husbands like Kendell who didn’t know the value of a good wife. He’d tell Kora how much he appreciated her. A few tickets to California seemed a small price to pay for all she was doing.
Logan met him and drove the wagon on down to the bunkhouse kitchen. Winter balanced the box under one arm and the package Sarah Kendell had wrapped on the other shoulder. As he kicked open the kitchen door, the sight before him almost made him drop his load.
Jamie, buckskins covered in flour, sat at the table trying to force a ball of dough into a pie pan. The kitchen was a mess with pots and supplies everywhere.
‘‘What are you doing?’’ Winter asked as he lowered the box beside the pump.
‘‘What does it look like I’m doing, you idiot? I’m cooking supper.’’ She gave the dough a hard punch, and it spread around her fingers. ‘‘And I’ll tell you the same thing I told that Indian friend of yours. Stay out of my way or I’ll shoot the other leg.’’
Winter picked up Kora’s gifts and moved around Jamie, giving her as much room as possible. When he was safely on the other side of the kitchen, he asked, ‘‘Where’s Kora?’’
He prepared to duck as Jamie pried the dough off her fingers and tried to spread it in smaller pieces into the pan. ‘‘She’s not here. Doc came by a few hours ago and asked her to go with him. He says he’s got a man down the road who’s got to be operated on or he’ll die for sure.’’
Jamie attacked the pan once more. ‘‘He could have asked me, even if I wouldn’t have answered him ’cause I’m never going to speak to him again as long as I live. But no! He runs up here like the house is on fire and begs Kora to go with him to the Breaks Settlement.’’ Jamie looked up, her eyes dancing with mischief. ‘‘So she leaves me to cook supper for you and Cheyenne.’’ Jamie laughed. ‘‘Exciting, ain’t it?’’
‘‘I’m not hungry.’’ Winter wasn’t sure he trusted her cooking.
‘‘Me, either!’’ Cheyenne yelled from the dining room behind Winter.
‘‘I’d rather eat my own knuckle than your cooking, Jamie.’’
‘‘Well, good!’’ Jamie yelled back. ‘‘Then all I’ll have to make is the gravy.’’
Winter waved at Cheyenne and climbed the stairs as they continued to yell at each other. For a moment he remembered when the house was silent and all he had to suffer through was the loneliness. It seemed like a much simpler life.
He straightened the things on Kora’s desk without fully taking his gaze from the window and the road beyond. If the doc had any sense, he’d have Kora home before dark. The Breaks Settlement, as everyone called it, was really just a group of drifters and folks down on their luck who lived along the southeast boarder of Winter’s ranch. The land wasn’t any good for farming or running cattle, so as far as Winter knew, no one owned it, but the uneven hills of rock offered shelter from the wind. Sometime after the War Between the States, men started camping out there when passing through. Buffalo hunters probably built the first shacks, and the place didn’t look as if it had been improved upon since. Some of the drifters had stayed, finding work on nearby ranches when they had to, but mostly they just lived off the land.
The sun set without him seeing any sign of her return. The settlement wasn’t the kind of place he liked to think of Kora being after dark. He washed and put on a clean shirt, telling himself that she’d be home when he finished. He’d grown used to supper being ready and her having everything in order when he came home. Even on those late nights, he could sense her near, and just knowing she was upstairs asleep was calming.
But he couldn’t feel her presence now. Not even when he went to her dressing area and set the bag of lady’s things on the stool. She’d left everything in order. His large hand felt awkward touching her belongings. Almost as if he were touching her.
Finally he went downstairs, knowing he’d waited as long as he could. Jamie and Cheyenne had stopped yelling at each other. In fact, the house was dark except for the kitchen.
When Winter walked into the kitchen, he was surprised for the second time in an hour. Cheyenne stood by the stove frying eggs. He leaned heavily on a wooden crutch, but he managed well. Jamie still sat at the table, the dough no closer to being reincarnated into a pie crust. Dan sat in the corner with his chair turned to face the window.
‘‘Want some eggs?’’ Cheyenne offered. ‘‘I cooked enough for you and Dan.’’
‘‘No, thanks,’’ Winter answered as he crossed the room. ‘‘I’m going to ride out to meet Kora and the doc.’’
‘‘Good idea.’’ Cheyenne’s concern mirrored Winter’s. ‘‘I’d go with you if I could. You think you can find her in the settlement?’’
‘‘If she’s still in the settlement, I’ll find her.’’
He heard Jamie saying something about maybe they stopped to look at the stars, but Winter wasn’t listening. Suddenly the urgency to find Kora was a hunger he could wait no longer to satisfy.
SIXTEEN
WINTER RODE THROUGH THE NIGHT PUSHING HIS horse faster as he approached the settlement. He was slowed by staying with the road, but he didn’t want to take any chance of passing Dr. Gage in the dark. The wind had turned cold and whirled around him, making him think he heard things when nothing was there. Clouds blocked the moon and most of the stars. By the time he saw the lights of the Breaks Settlement, he could taste icy rain in the air. But the moisture did little to cool his anger. This was no place for a lady after dark.
The number of shacks had doubled since he’d last ridden by the area, and several outdoor campfires dotted the uneven land. Breaks Settlement was a deformed town with no businesses or patterns of streets. There were no schools, or churches, or even barns. Most of the horses were corralled in a small boxed canyon near the end of the settlement. Lodgings were as simple as wagons turned on their side against the wind or crude houses made of anything handy, waterproofed with thick layers of sod for warmth.
Win lowered his hat and silently urged his horse to pick his way through the scattering of trash along trails marked by ruts. He fought the urge to raise his bandanna from his throat, for the smell was worse than riding drag on a cattle drive.
Anger toward Gage for bringing Kora to this place began to bubble over in his mind. He liked the young doctor, but the man should have considered Kora’s safety if not his own.
He rode among the dwellings looking for any sign of the doc’s buggy. But the lights in the shacks were small, and the tiny beams escaping from between cracks offered little help as the night grew darker.
The hollow sound of a mouth harp drifted through the air. Win turned toward what looked to be the largest dwelling. Voices grew from the sounds of the night to human pitch as he came upon a long lean-to rigged with a tarp from a couple of Conestogas.
‘‘Evenin’.’’ The harp music stopped, and a man stood at the edge of the covered area. He was rail thin, and the rags he wore made it seem as if his clothes were fringed in the darkness.
Three tables were set up beneath the covering, and Win could make out a dozen men, maybe more, playing cards. Large jugs of home brew dotted the dirt. Win guessed he’d have to down half a jug of the home brew before he could stomach the smell of unwashed humans and open outhouses.
‘‘Somethin’ I can do for you?’’ The harp player was no more friendly than his music had been cheery.
Win didn’t raise his hat as he would have done to talk to someone in town. He wasn’t sure it would be wise to let anyone see his face. He recognized two of the men at the closest table as cowhands he’d had to fire a few months back for drinking.
‘‘I come looking for the doc.’’ He kept his voice low, hoping only the harp player would hear it.
‘‘Haven’t seen him.’’ The man snorted a laugh. ‘‘He ain’t a regular around the tables.’’
Winter clicked at his horse and began to back away. He saw no need to thank the man.
The harp player lifted the wire to his mouth, but just before he played, he added, ‘‘If anyone here’s in need of a doc, it’s probably Miller down by the creek. I heard he got shot a while back.’’
‘‘Thanks.’’ Win turned his horse toward the creek.
After passing several empty campsites, he spotted the doctor’s buggy pulled up to a sod house. The light barely escaped through the oilcloth hanging over the two tiny windows in front, but Win could see that a lamp burned inside.
Just as he leaned forward to swing his leg to the ground, the door of the place opened. Win had his Colt halfway out of its holster before he saw Kora step from the doorway.
Her arms were loaded down with rags, and her hair was as bright as sunshine with the firelight behind her. She dropped the rags in a basket by the door and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.
‘‘Kora?’’ He said her name so low he wasn’t sure it had passed his lips.
She looked up.
‘‘Kora!’’ Dr. Gage yelled from inside. ‘‘Hurry!’’
With only a moment’s hesitation, she turned back inside, leaving the door open.
Win swung from the saddle and tied his horse to the doc’s buggy. He walked slowly to the doorway, already guessing what he might see.
The cabin was filthy, as he’d expected. It looked more like a rat’s nest than a human’s home. A man lay in front of the fire on a crude cot made of ropes and logs. Dr. Gage knelt over him working frantically on his chest. His hands were spotted in blood to the elbow, and his face was dripping sweat. Kora stood beside him following rapid-fire orders.
Win watched as his little wife, who shied away from him, helped Dr. Gage like a seasoned nurse. He wanted to be mad because she’d left without telling him, because she’d put herself in danger, because she’d worried him half to death. Because she’d left Jamie to cook. But he couldn’t be angry. Not with the pride welling in him.
‘‘I’ve got it!’’ the doc yelled as he pulled a hand from halfway inside the man’s chest. ‘‘The bullet is out.’’
Kora took a
breath and for the first time looked up. If Winter’s presence surprised her, she showed no sign of it. She simply smiled that quiet, shy smile of hers and returned to her chores.
Gage glanced at her, then Winter. ‘‘Hello, Win,’’ he said without any note of apology. ‘‘We’re about finished here.’’
‘‘Take your time,’’ Win mumbled. He leaned against the doorframe and tried to wait patiently as they worked at sewing up the man. Not wanting to watch, Win glanced around the room. His gaze settled on a black duster hanging on a peg. For a few minutes he couldn’t think of why it looked so familiar. Then he remembered. The three men in black who’d shot at him and Cheyenne the day Jamie rode with them.
Slowly, almost casually, he walked over to the peg and turned the duster around in the light. Sure enough, there was a bullet hole about gut level, maybe a little higher. This man had been one of the three, but from the looks of him now, he couldn’t have sat a horse, much less have ridden in to start the fire.
‘‘How long ago was this man shot?’’ Win asked over his shoulder.
‘‘Several days,’’ the doc volunteered as he worked. ‘‘At first I thought it was too risky to try and take the bullet out. Then, when he got worse, I figured it would be the only chance to save his life. And it’s a slim chance. Yours was the nearest place I could go to get someone I could trust to stay with me through the operation. And Kora did, just like a trooper.’’
The doc smiled at Kora as he praised, making Win feel a sharp stab of jealousy.
Kora stood and washed her hands as the doc wrapped the wound. ‘‘I’ve no desire to be a nurse, but I’m glad I could help.’’
Win moved closer to her. ‘‘You left Jamie to cook,’’ he whispered.
‘‘I had to.’’ Kora glanced at him as though she couldn’t believe how selfish he sounded.
Win cleared his throat. ‘‘This is one of the men who shot at Cheyenne and Jamie. He tried to kill us all in that ambush.’’
