by Linda Broday
“Don’t expect that to change.” Rand went to stare out the window. He wondered if he should mention his dreams of a shadowy figure throwing his father onto the thin ice of the river. Had it really been just a bad dream like so many others in his childhood…or real? He’d buried so many things deep inside his mind…
Still, the nightmares were too real. They had to be memories or else he wouldn’t know about the blue-spotted pony with glowing eyes.
“Tell me how you know about the Painted Pony Saloon, Rand. It’s odd that you remember it.”
Rand turned. “How could I not? That horse rocking back and forth with those glowing eyes would stick in any child’s memory. It had a crank on the side that someone could wind up to make it move. I was there, Mother. And I think it has to do with something I might’ve seen.”
“Tell me and we’ll figure it out together.”
“For years I’ve had these terrifying dreams, but now I know I had to have been recalling events that actually happened. I seem to remember Father hiding me in some thick underbrush and telling me to not make a sound. I recall fragments of a man telling Father something about giving him enough time to pay what he owed. They argued, then the man told a bald-headed giant to get rid of Father. I watched this man who seemed eight feet tall pick up my father and hurl him onto the ice. I watched it break, and Father disappeared. I never saw him again.”
Abigail clamped her hand over her mouth. “They murdered him. They murdered my Jack.”
Twenty-two
Although Callie spent a pleasurable hour in the mercantile looking at everything, her thoughts were on Rand. She prayed he would get things straightened out with Abigail so he could find peace. She hated to watch this animosity with his mother eat him alive.
Toby tugged her skirt. “Can we go? I wanna play.”
“Just a few more minutes,” she said absentmindedly, her attention on a vibrant blue yarn. She could knit a muffler for Rand.
Intent on finding the right shade of blue, she suddenly missed Toby’s hand on her skirt and panicked. When she whirled, she froze. The scarred stranger in the bowler hat who had asked the way to Battle Creek was handing Toby a piece of licorice.
“Toby, get back here,” she said sharply. “Don’t talk to strangers.”
“I ain’t. He just gave me some candy.”
The candy giver’s smile only served to increase the pounding of Callie’s heart.
“Forgive me, ma’am. I should’ve asked first. I saw how impatient the boy was and wanted to help so you could finish looking at that pretty yarn. You have a nice pair of young’uns.”
She tried to still her racing heart. She hated this distrust of every stranger. “Do I know you, mister?”
“Oh, I truly doubt that, ma’am.”
It was time to cut this short. She didn’t know who the scarred man was or what he wanted, but she couldn’t afford to take chances. “Toby, thank the gentleman.”
As soon as the boy dutifully followed her request, Callie hustled him out of the store. She almost had to drag him, because he kept stopping to look at the street musicians. Then, when a juggler caught his attention, Toby tried to pull away. He cried when she wouldn’t let him stop and watch. By the time she reached the jail and safety, she was out of breath.
Cooper took the baby from her and helped her to a chair. She sat on the edge with worry knitting her brow.
The stranger could be one of Nate’s brothers. She didn’t know, because she’d only seen them once a long time ago. It would be like Nate to telegraph them to come help him steal Toby.
Dear God! She swallowed a strangled sob.
How could they hope to win against an army of cutthroats?
* * *
Chills raced the length of Rand. Even though he’d reached the same conclusion, hearing his mother put into words that his father was murdered made the hair on his neck stand up. “Who were those men I’m remembering, and why did they take his life?”
“I can’t answer the who, son. Jack owed so many people. He simply couldn’t control his gambling addiction, not even when I begged and pleaded. Evidently, one man refused to give him more time to repay a debt.” Abigail stifled a sob. “Tell me all you saw.”
“After the tall man got rid of Father, the two men yanked me up from the brush and said they were going to take me where no one would ever find me. And they did.”
“You didn’t remember any of this before now?” Abigail rose and moved to the window beside Rand. He put his arms around her, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world that they would take comfort in each other.
“I only had tiny pieces, but I thought they were from a long-ago nightmare. The whole picture emerged as we talked.”
Abigail leaned to look up at him. “Does this fix things between us once and for all?”
He suddenly realized that he’d blamed her all this time for something that wasn’t her fault, that he was taking out his fears of being unwanted and abandoned on her. True, she’d left him behind to pursue her career, but she hadn’t known he was in an orphanage. She’d truly believed him dead. And then after she stumbled onto him as she passed through Battle Creek, she’d stayed, giving up her career and travel. He was sure it cost her a lot more than money. The renowned singer left all the fame and became a lonely, reclusive widow named Clara.
For him. Because she wanted to be a part of his life, even if it was from the fringes.
“It does. I see the past clearly now. I apologize for refusing to believe you, for thinking you never cared about me. I haven’t been a very good son. Can you forgive me?”
She patted his face and stared into his eyes. “You were only protecting your heart. In those years when you didn’t know who I was, I saw how much you cared for people and how you welcomed the drunks who had no family into your upstairs living quarters when the weather was bad because you were afraid they’d freeze to death outside. I saw how you stood up for Jenny and her son Ben when Hogue Barclay beat them. And I saw the money you sent the orphanage in Fort Worth. You know what else?”
“What?”
“I am so very proud of you, proud of the man you became.”
“Thank you, Mother. You don’t know what that means to me.”
They strolled toward the kitchen. “Are you still angry at me over buying the saloon?”
Rand swatted at the plume of her hat, which was tickling his nose. He kissed her cheek. “Nope. We’re good. Now, about those pies. Mind if I eat one before we deliver them?”
“I made peach, your favorite, hoping I’d see you today.”
“In that case, I’ll have several.” He put his arm around her. “Thank you, Mother.”
* * *
Rand had just finished his pie when Abigail, who stood at the sideboard, turned sickly pale and swayed. He jumped up and helped her into a chair.
“What’s wrong, Mother?”
“It’s… I’m feeling a little faint. I think I’d like to lie down.”
“I’ll help you upstairs, then go for Doc Yates.”
Abigail waved her arm. “Oh for pity’s sake. There is no need for a fuss. I’m fine. Everyone gets a bit light-headed now and then. Now, be a good son and help me to my bed.” Once upstairs, she shooed him away. “Go. Callie and the kids need you. I’ll rest a minute and be good as new. No worrying over me. I forbid it.”
A smile curved Rand’s mouth. She seemed her typical self. Maybe it was nothing, just as she said. “All right, then. I’ll run on. But only if you’re positive.”
“I am. Now go.”
Leaving the house, Rand dragged his thoughts back to the man in the bowler he was searching for. He’d about given up, when he spied the white horse at the hitching rail in front of the Lily of the West. Pushing through the batwing doors, he stood, searching each face for one with a long scar. Only the stranger was
n’t there. Disappointed, he turned and strolled toward the mercantile, where he’d left Callie. Even though it hadn’t been long, he couldn’t wait to see her.
But when the clerk told him she’d left rather hurriedly, fear gripped his heart and wouldn’t let go. Remembering his instructions to go find Cooper if she felt threatened, he raced toward the jail. He found her sitting across from Cooper’s desk, clutching a handkerchief.
“Missing your family?” Cooper asked. He held Wren while Toby played at his feet. “I’m getting in plenty of practice for the twins.”
Before Rand could answer, Callie leaped from the chair and into his arms. “I think we have big problems. I’m so scared.”
“Tell me what happened. Is it Fleming? Is he back? Did you see him?”
“No.” She told him about running into the strange man they’d passed on the road and the way he’d offered Toby licorice. “He complimented me on the children. When I asked if I should know him, he said he doubted it. That scar on his face gave me chills. He seemed to take undue interest in us, you know? I got the children and came straight here, like you told me.”
“That’s good, darlin’.” He smoothed back her hair. “You stay here with Coop. I need to find out who this stranger is and what he wants.”
Nothing seemed to make sense.
Cooper rose, cradling the baby in the crook of his arm. “Rand, I live in hopes that one of these days you’ll remember who wears this badge. But since you know what this man looks like, I’ll stay here with Callie and the children. We shouldn’t leave them unprotected. I’ll go through the wanted posters and see what I can find. I need to know who’s in my town before all hell breaks loose. Sure would make my job easier if I had a name to stick on him.”
Callie laid her head on Rand’s shoulder. “He could be one of Nate’s brothers. I wouldn’t know, since I never saw them. What if he sent this stranger? How can we fight…?”
“Darlin’, don’t borrow trouble. Cooper will keep you safe until I get back.”
“If you latch onto him, bring him to me,” Cooper ordered. “At the end of your Colt, if you have to. I’d like a chat with him. On days like this, I sure miss having a deputy. Wish the mayor would agree to let me hire one soon.”
Rand nodded and opened the door. He needed answers and he meant to get them. The sooner the better.
* * *
Returning to the saloon, Rand marched to the long bar. “Pettibone, did you notice a man in here wearing a bowler? Has a scarred face.”
“Sure did. Had to throw him out on account of him accusing a fellow at his table of cheating. Created quite a ruckus, so I showed him the door. Told him this is a peaceable town.”
“Did he give his name?”
“Nope, at least not that I heard. Wish I could be more help.”
“You did fine,” Rand said. “If you think of anything else, let me know. And if he comes back, send someone for me or Cooper pronto.”
Outside the saloon, Rand’s gaze swept up and down the street, taking in the celebrating men and women. Now what?
He decided to make a pass through the crowd, hoping for a glimpse of him.
Rand pushed back his black Stetson with a forefinger and started down the boardwalk. He knew these wide-open spaces offered a great hiding place for those who wanted to stay lost.
As Rand ambled down the street, he wished he had Cooper beside him. He could use another pair of eyes, and Cooper was a top-rate lawman. He’d inherited the job very suddenly after Sheriff Strayhorn suffered a heart attack six months ago. Doc Yates had been unable to save him. Battle Creek lost a beloved friend that day. Then Strayhorn’s deputy took over the lawman duties in Waco so he could be near his sick mother, leaving them desperate.
Cooper refused the job at first offer, but he’d seen how badly the town needed law and order. Everyone knew it was only temporary, though. He’d turn over the reins to a replacement faster than greased lightning whenever they found one.
Rand passed the mercantile, the newspaper office, and the Lexington Arms, keeping his eyes peeled for the stranger in the bowler. He should probably gather Callie and the kids and head for home before too much longer. It would not be wise to let darkness overtake them.
If trouble rode toward them, he wanted to be able to spit in its eye and take its measure.
Then prickles crawled up his spine. He whirled and found himself face-to-face with the mysterious stranger.
“I see you found Battle Creek all right, mister.” Rand’s hand flexed above the handle of his Colt. The man’s eyes flicked to it before glancing up. “You got family here?”
“Let’s just say I have my reasons for coming.” The strange-colored eyes became hooded as though he was used to trouble finding him.
“I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself earlier. I’m Rand Sinclair.”
“I know. Reckon I might’ve heard of you.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Not particularly.”
Impatience rippled through Rand. For a second, he considered shooting the stranger for being so vague. But then Cooper would probably make him clean up the mess before locking him in jail. Likely wouldn’t serve anything but bread and water, either.
“You know my name—what’s yours?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s none of your business.” The man smiled, unruffled by the questions.
Heat crept up Rand’s neck. Clearly, Mr. No Name wasn’t going to tell him anything. “I’m guessing Fleming must’ve sent for you.”
“Don’t know what you mean, Sinclair.”
“Whether you do or not, Sheriff Thorne would like a word if you don’t mind.”
“Is this concerning the misunderstanding in the saloon?”
Rand decided two could play this game. “Guess you’ll have to find out for yourself. Now come along. I’m not asking.” He readied to draw his Colt. One way or another, the man was coming and he would answer a few questions.
“Are you a deputy or something?”
“Or something just about fits.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m a peaceable man, minding my own business.”
“Then you don’t have anything to worry about, do you?”
No Name smiled. “I hope this won’t take long. I have things to do.”
“Then we’d best get moving.”
Keeping a wary eye on the man, Rand marched him to the sheriff’s office. Cooper rose from behind his desk and ordered the mysterious stranger to take a seat.
“What’s this about, Sheriff? I haven’t broken any laws.”
Rand listened to the exchange. They were finally going to get to the truth. But before the stranger would quit hedging, the baby began to fret and drew his attention. His gaze sought Callie’s, and he smiled as she tried to soothe the child, but to no avail. Rand needed to get her and the children away from here. Cooper could handle things.
She gave him a grateful smile when he took Wren and suggested he take her to a quiet place. His old friend, Mabel King, owned the boardinghouse, and he knew she’d be happy to have the company.
Out on the sidewalk, Toby pointed toward the juggler. “Can I watch the man throw those plates up in the air an’ catch ’em? Please?”
“I reckon, but just for a minute.”
It didn’t take much to satisfy the boy who was so curious about everything. They watched until the baby began to fuss; then Rand ushered them down the street to Mabel’s. He wasn’t wrong. The middle-aged woman’s face lit with joy when he explained the situation and asked for her help. She bustled to the kitchen to fill Wren’s bottle and had a fresh-from-the-oven cookie for Toby when she returned. Seeing that they were in excellent hands, Rand kissed Callie’s cheek and said he’d be back soon. Two more things to do and they’d head home.
He’d speak to that la
wyer Cooper told him about, then find out what Cooper had pried out of the stranger.
Rand ruffled Toby’s hair and knelt down beside him. “I need you to watch over your ma…aunt and Wren for me. Think you can do it?”
Toby grinned. “Yep. I ain’t gonna let anyone hurt ’em.”
“That’s my boy.”
Letting himself out, Rand gazed at the milling crowd. Then his eyes drifted to a man hanging up a shingle across the street. It read Micah Jones, Attorney. Just the person he wanted to see.
* * *
Micah Jones looked more like a riverboat gambler than a lawyer. He wore a boiled white shirt and red garters on his upper arms. His brocade vest and shock of thick gray hair completed the image of a man who lived life on his own terms.
“Could I have a word with you, sir?” Rand asked.
“Jones is my name, and problem’s my game,” Micah boomed. “None are too big or too small. Come into my office.”
Once inside and face-to-face, Rand immediately liked the lawyer’s intelligent brown eyes. He explained the circumstances with Toby and Wren. “I want to make them my children.”
“Then we’ll just make it happen. The baby will be easy. The boy will be a little more difficult, since his father still lives. From the sound of it, the man doesn’t need a child.”
“No, sir, he doesn’t.”
“I’ll fill out the necessary papers and put them before the county judge in Corsicana. You may have to make an appearance before him and relay your reasons for the adoption. I’ll know more as we go along.”
“How much will this cost?” Rand thought about the five hundred his mother had given him. This would be a good use of the money.
Micah Jones scratched his thatch of gray hair and made it stand on end. “I can’t see it costing more than fifty dollars, all told.”
Rand reached into his pocket, pulled out the fee, and laid it on the scarred, beat-up desk. “I want to get this resolved as soon as possible. I hope you’ll understand.”
