by Linda Broday
The door opened and a grizzly bear of a man stepped out. His long, shaggy hair whipped about in the breeze. He kept an ancient pistol that must’ve been used to fight at the Alamo trained on them.
“We don’t mean any harm, mister,” Rand said. “Just wanted to know if you’ve seen him. His name is Nate Fleming. Has coal-black hair and rides a big black gelding. Has a wounded arm.”
The pistol lowered. “Might as well come on in. This place is busier than a town durin’ a hangin’.”
Sounded like Fleming had been there, all right.
Rand and Cooper removed their hats and followed the man through the door. A tiny woman stood at the cookstove. She turned and her smile showed a big gap in her teeth.
“Howdy, ma’am,” Rand said.
“Would you care for some coffee, young man?”
“If it wouldn’t trouble you none. I smelled it all the way up on that hill yonder.” He rubbed his hands together to warm them. “It’s mighty chilly out.”
Cooper gave her a nod. “I’ll take some too, ma’am, long as you’re offering.”
The farmer motioned them into chairs at the table. “Name’s John Abel. That’s my wife, Rebecca. She’s a right fair cook.”
“About that outlaw—” Cooper began.
“Nope, I ain’t talkin’ about outlaws ’n’ such on an empty belly,” John declared. “We eat, then we jaw.”
Though it chafed to have to wait, Rand gratefully accepted a cup of hot coffee that Rebecca handed him. The couple appeared starved for company, the way they latched onto Rand and Cooper, but every second spent cooling their heels meant Fleming was getting farther away.
He had to admit that the plate of eggs, sausage, and flapjacks was a welcome sight, though. Rebecca truly did know her way around a cookstove. He and Cooper dove right in, happy to trade time for a hot meal.
At last, John finished and pushed back his plate. He lit a pipe and puffed on it for several minutes. “Now, about that jackanapes you’re lookin’ for. Reckon he pounded on our door just as we were gettin’ out of bed ’fore daybreak. Forced his way in. Rebecca made coffee and bandaged his arm. Looked mighty bad too. Kept a gun on us the whole time. Thought for sure he might kill us, but he hopped on that big black gelding of his and lit out.”
“Which direction did he go?” Cooper asked, leaning forward.
“Due east. Toward the train tracks.”
Rand squinted, thinking. “Did he talk about boarding a train?”
“Nope.”
Cooper drained his cup. “Did he tell you anything?”
“That he was trying to get his son back,” Rebecca spoke up. “Said a woman stole him. That true?”
“Yes, ma’am, it is.” Rand didn’t try to color the facts. “The woman who took him is my wife, and she was only upholding a deathbed promise to the boy’s mother. Fleming isn’t fit to raise a barn cat, much less a son.”
“Some aren’t,” she agreed. “I saw the measure of the man. Better watch out for that outlaw, though. He’s itching to get even. Seemed a nice enough sort at first, but he got this real mean look in his eyes when he thought we didn’t see.”
“Appreciate the warning, Mrs. Abel. You’re lucky he didn’t kill you in cold blood.” Cooper turned and shook the farmer’s hand. “Thanks for your hospitality. If you’re ever in Battle Creek, stop in and say hello. Reckon we’ll push on. Got a lot of ground to cover.”
Rand braced himself for the cold, biting wind, then followed Cooper out the door. What he wouldn’t give to be back home with Callie and the kids. He had a lot of good-night kisses to make up for, and he chomped at the bit to get started.
Kisses, he’d found, had the power to heal his battered spirit. This bit of time without the added pressure of lovemaking seemed to be what Callie needed.
His kisses allowed them to gently explore each other. To trust.
His darling Callie. His life had totally changed the moment he first laid eyes on her. She’d given him much more than hot food in his stomach. When he got back, he’d tell her just that.
* * *
The two men rode hard and fast. Rand gritted his teeth with frustration. They’d wasted too much time with the Abels. If only they’d kept riding, they could’ve caught up to Fleming and would already be headed with him to jail.
Except they hadn’t known which way he went. They’d needed John Abel. Pushing forward as hard as they dared was their only option.
Just as he thought things couldn’t get more miserable, cold rain began to fall. Driven by the wind, raindrops stung his face and hands and at times hampered his ability to draw air into his lungs.
To take his mind off the conditions, Rand thought of Callie, remembering every little detail about her.
The way her breath hitched right before he placed his mouth on hers.
The way her smile lit up all the dark places inside him.
And the way she could make a man feel like the richest person on earth.
Yes, he’d waited a long time for her to come along.
Only one other woman had come close to holding a candle to her—Rachel Madison. Rachel had arrived in Battle Creek with her father in a traveling medicine show. Like Callie, she’d caught his fancy right away. Her infectious laugh and zest for life touched everyone around her. But Rachel had contracted scarlet fever soon after their arrival. Doc Yates had done what he could for her, but she passed on without ever knowing how much she meant to Rand, or the plans he was making for their future.
A shudder rolled over Rand in a huge wave. Was fate against him? Would Nate take Callie from him too, just when he’d opened his heart again?
He urged the blue roan into a faster gallop.
Nineteen
In the distance, Rand could make out the Houston and Texas Central Railway train idling at the water stop ten miles outside of Corsicana.
Fear gripped him. What if Fleming managed to get aboard?
They hadn’t come this far for the outlaw to slip through their fingers now. Rand needed to end Fleming’s bitter reign of terror and put him behind bars where he couldn’t kill anyone else.
Everything in Rand cried out for justice. He set his jaw and tried to cajole a little extra from his horse. But Blue had no more to give. Rand had pushed him too hard. Sensing his faithful animal’s exhaustion, he slowed to a walk. It would accomplish nothing to kill the roan.
Cooper did the same. Thick lather covered both horses.
“Damn!” Rand dismounted and kicked a tuft of dried grass.
“I ain’t giving up,” Cooper said, his deep voice strong. “Besides, we don’t know for certain that Fleming came this way, that he aims to get on the train. The man could’ve changed course after he left Abel’s.”
“No, but I feel in my bones we’re on the right track.” Rand picked up the reins and began walking as fast as he could in the driving rain. Maybe they still had a shot. Maybe it would take longer than normal for the train to take on water. Just maybe the conductor would see Fleming sneak on board and throw him off.
With hope hammering in his heart, Rand increased the length of his stride. “Come on, Coop, get the lead out. We’ll make the train.”
* * *
Callie brushed back loose strands of hair and gazed from the kitchen window into the distance. The ominous gray skies hung low, threatening to burst any minute. Rand would be out there exposed in this storm because of her and Toby.
She bit back a sob.
Where was he? Had he caught up with Nate? Was he lying hurt…or dead…somewhere?
Toenails clicked on the floor and Biscuit stuck a cold nose to a hand that had dropped limply to her side. The dog’s whine seemed to offer sympathy and to say that everything would be all right.
Kneeling, Callie threw her arms around the retriever’s neck and buried her face in the soft fur.<
br />
Toby looked up from where he and Brett sat at the table, playing some kind of game using pebbles. “She gives real good hugs when you’re sad, Aunt Callie. I sure do miss Mr. Rand. Do you think my old papa ain’t gonna let him come home?”
It was odd how easily a child could declare something and it was so. Though Toby hadn’t exactly put it into words, Rand was his new papa and nothing would change it.
“Don’t you worry about that,” Callie said firmly, getting to her feet. “Nothing or no one will keep him from coming back to us. He holds you and Wren in a secret place inside his heart.”
“I’m glad,” the boy said, sniffling.
She met Brett’s dark eyes. She knew he chomped at the bit to be out there with his brothers, helping them locate Nate. Though he didn’t let it show, she knew he simmered with frustration. He gave her a sudden smile that revealed his white teeth. He was going to steal some woman’s heart one day. She prayed the woman would truly appreciate this special kind of man.
“Young Toby, I have an idea. How about we go out to the tepee and pretend to be Indians?” Brett said, getting up.
“Can I, Aunt Callie?”
“I think that would be a very good idea. What fun.” When Toby ran to get his coat, she turned to Brett. “Thank you for helping keep his mind occupied. You’re a godsend.”
“It’s little enough. Wish I could do more.” He put an arm lightly around her. “Never count Rand out. I learned a long time ago not to bet against him. Every blasted time I did, I lost. He’ll be walking through this kitchen door before you know it, wanting to know where the hot biscuits are.”
Callie laughed and leaned her head on Brett’s shoulder. “You are right about that. I don’t know what I’d do without you to remind me about these things.”
She helped Toby into his coat and buttoned it up. After he and Brett sprinted for the tepee, she stood looking at the rain that had begun to fall. She’d only been married a week and already Rand had snuck past all her defenses and staked out a corner of her heart.
Imagining a life without him was impossible. He had the power to give her everything she’d longed for, if only she’d let him.
How long could she keep holding back, refusing to give him what he needed most?
And how could she deny the thing she most wanted to give?
* * *
Rand and Cooper’s walk to the train seemed to take a lifetime. Rand’s breath came in shuddering gasps. He kept his gaze anchored on the billowing smokestack, willing the iron horse to remain stationary.
One foot in front of the other.
Just fifty yards to go.
Please let us get there in time.
Lightning split the heavens in jagged zigzags. Two seconds later, thunder crashed, shaking the ground. Rand stumbled and went down to his knees. Struggling to his feet, he plunged on, trying to keep pace with Cooper, who’d taken the lead.
Forty yards to go. Little by little, they got closer.
They could do this. Rand got his second wind.
“You’re not gonna get away, Fleming,” he shouted into the rain. “We’re coming for you.”
Thirty yards.
The train made a groan and the iron wheels began to turn. Rand’s heart plummeted. They weren’t going to make it. Still, he kept going foot by precious foot. If either he or Cooper could swing aboard, they could stop it and jerk the outlaw off.
He dropped Blue’s reins and made an all-out mad dash.
But he came up short.
The train gained momentum and rumbled down the tracks just out of reach. Fleming moved out to stand on the small platform on the back of the last car, holding onto the railing…grinning.
“You better run, you sorry piece of cow dung,” Rand yelled at the top of his lungs. “We’ll catch you, just wait and see.”
“Hell and be damned!” Cooper kicked at a rock sticking out of the ground. “Reckon we’ll rest the horses for a while, then ride into Corsicana. I’ll wire the sheriff down in Mexia and tell him to stop the train. We’ll hope Fleming doesn’t jump off before then.”
“Well, one thing about it, he won’t have a horse.” Rand motioned to the big black gelding standing beside the tracks. “At least we have one thing in our favor.”
“About time. Plus we know which way he’s headed.”
With water running off the brims of their hats, they took cover from the storm under the big water tank and settled down to wait for the horses to recover. The rain would thankfully help cool them down. Brett would have his and Cooper’s hide for riding the animals so hard. Horses meant everything to Rand and Cooper, but to their brother, they were sacred. That they hadn’t seen any choice in the matter might not appease him.
“We almost made it, Coop,” Rand said. “Another five minutes and we would’ve had Fleming.”
“Should have our butts kicked for letting Abel talk us into breakfast. I knew better than that.” Cooper leaned back and pulled his wet hat down over his eyes.
“Yeah, but I’d sure like to have another plate of those flapjacks right about now. Mrs. Abel was almost as good a cook as Callie.” Rand’s thoughts again turned toward home. He picked up a piece of wood that would make a good spinning top and took out his pocketknife. “You know, Coop, I’m a lucky man.”
“How’s that?”
“I have everything I ever wanted. My own land, kids, and a pretty wife to ease a man’s loneliness. I never thought I’d be so happy. I’ve got it all, and I’ll be damned if Fleming’s going to ruin it.”
“We’ve got him on the run and we’ll keep him running.”
“I don’t mind dogging him until his tongue lolls out. Long as we keep him going away from us, he can’t hurt the people I care about. But I won’t be satisfied until we lock him up. No one’s safe until he is.”
“Your tongue seems double-jointed today, the way it’s flapping around. Can’t you see I’m tryin’ to get some sleep?”
“You’re awful gripey.”
“Well, you’re talking my ear off. Give it a rest.”
The water tank stood high enough so that a man of Rand’s height could just barely stand under it, minus the hat. He rose and stood looking out at the deluge, which showed no signs of stopping. Then his gaze shifted down the tracks in the direction the train had gone.
A muscle worked in his jaw. Somehow, someway, he’d catch up to Nate Fleming.
When he did, there would be hell to pay.
* * *
Callie put the kettle on for some hot tea. It seemed just the thing to lift her from her doldrums. She’d just fed and rocked the baby to sleep. Brett and Toby were still out in the tepee. They’d come in for lunch, then gone back out. She didn’t know what they were up to, but Toby had blurted out he had a secret.
With the water on to boil, she got down the tin. When she opened it, a small folded piece of paper lay on top of the tea leaves.
What on earth?
Curious, she unfolded it and saw the neat letters.
Dearest Callie,
You are my rock. Only you can soothe the ragged edges of my soul. You are seen. You are my life, my everything.
Your patient husband
Tears that were hovering right beneath the surface flooded down her cheeks. She clutched the note to her chest and had a good cry.
She’d married an amazing man. He had the ability to make her feel cherished, caress her heart even when he was miles and miles away. He really did “see” her. Nobody had since her mother was taken from her. Nobody.
Her heart sang. She was Rand’s life, his everything.
Whether or not she could soothe his spirit raised questions. It flattered her that he thought she could. While she waited for the tea to steep, she went off to locate a pencil and paper. Then she sat down to think of what to say.
The
minute she finished her cup of tea, she took the pencil in hand.
My Dear Rand,
You make me very happy. I never thought I could ever find a man like you. Your kisses each night make my heart soar. When I close my eyes, I dream of you. Never stop kissing me.
Your ever-faithful wife
She folded the paper into a square. Now where to put it so that he’d find it? At last she decided to leave it on his pillow. Buoyed by excitement, she flew up the stairs. She felt like a kid again.
Before she left the note, she lay on his bed and put her head on the pillow. This was where she yearned to be. Next to her husband, sleeping in his arms, breathing his scent.
One day she’d find a way to be brave enough to face her fears. She promised. Maybe he could overlook the inability to face her terror. Hope rose. He’d already looked into her heart and seen the woman she wanted to be.
In the meantime, the note would have to tell him the things her heart was unable to say.
* * *
That night after supper, she sat with the children and Brett in the parlor. She smiled, watching her husband’s brother hold little Wren. The two looked so much alike, with their raven hair and dark eyes. They shared the same heritage. Sadness filled her that the babe would never know her ancestors.
“Brett, will you teach Wren your ways when she gets old enough to understand?”
His sad eyes met hers. “I wish I could, but I have no knowledge of the Indian culture. Since I was raised with the whites, I don’t even know which tribe I come from. I think she may be Comanche. But I will help all I can. Maybe we can figure it out together.”
“Thank you.” A person needed to know where they came from, especially those who straddled two worlds.
Sitting beside Brett, Toby held the baby’s hand. He couldn’t be near her without touching her. “How old is Wren?”
“She’s three months old,” Callie answered. “Why?”
“Was I cute before I got to be a number?”
“What do you mean, sweetheart?”
“She’s not even to a one yet. My number is six.”
The mind of a child moved in mysterious ways. Toby could say the cutest things. “Honey, you were a very precious baby. Everyone remarked on how cute you were.”
