CHAPTER 16
Virginia Marston journeyed across the beautiful Ozarks, over rolling green hills, through fertile valleys, past famed battlesites, and onto grassland that would almost extend to her destination. While the fatigued and bruised Ginny prepared to spend a restless night near Fort Leavenworth, a tormented Stone Chapman dismounted at his home, and spoke a silent prayer. Spirits have mercy on both of us because I have to get this settled for my sister’s sake. I can’t let her suffer like I’m doing.
He entered the house to find his father sitting at his desk. The rancher looked at him, then blinked back tears. Tears of joy and relief? Stone mused. He watched Bennett rise as if an old and beaten man.
“I’m glad you’re home, Son,” Ben said as he approached him. “I was afraid you wouldn’t return. I’ve missed you and worried about you.” Since Ginny exposed the awful truth and left for Dallas a week ago, the house had been too quiet. It had affected him like losing his daughter a second time. Grief and loneliness had plagued him, as had a fear of also losing his son, both resulting from his foolish and selfish mistakes.
Stone didn’t know what to do when his father embraced him. Taken by surprise and sensing something was terribly wrong, he asked in an emotion-hoarsened voice, “Where’s Johanna?”
Ben’s arms dropped to his sides and his graying head lowered as he barely got out the painful words, “She’s dead.” Ben’s head lifted with teary eyes as he continued. “But I have my son back. I love you, Stone, and I need you. I know I haven’t been a real father to you, but I want that to change. Please help me do it.”
The younger man’s heart felt as cold as ice and as rigid as his name. His father’s words and mood had registered in his mind, but his pounding heart could respond to only one thing. “She’s … dead? How? When?”
“She became gravely ill during her return voyage from England,” Ben murmured in anguish. “She died shortly after she reached America. Lord have mercy on my soul, I didn’t even get to see my child again.”
Stone feared the man had gone mad with grief and guilt. “What are you talking about, Father? She was here when I left over a week ago.”
Ben’s wits cleared and he hurried to explain, “No, Son, she’s buried in Savannah. The woman we met was her best friend, like a sister to my lost Johanna. Ginny is the one who tended and buried Johanna, with Mr. Avery’s help. My child had been deceived by her wicked mother. Stella told her awful lies about me. Ginny made her a deathbed promise to come here to wreak revenge and justice on me for betraying her. But the girl was too tender-hearted to carry it out. After she learned the truth from me, she confessed her ruse. She told me and Nan everything after you left. When she discovered you and Johanna were related she realized why you took off so fast. She didn’t want to hurt any of us, so she confessed to her ruse and left.”
Stone’s heart drummed. His mouth felt dry. His head was dazed for a few moments. “She isn’t my half sister?”
“No, her best friend. Ginny was heart-stricken over Johanna’s loss; she loved my daughter. She told me all abouttheir years at boarding school and how she got here from Savannah with your help.”
Stone was astonished to learn it was only a ruse, like the one she pulled on the wagontrain with Avery. The woman he’d made love to wasn’t his sister. The cunning vixen was a skilled pretender to dupe him twice.
Ben was bewildered by his son’s reaction. If Stone loved Ginny, he should be shouting with joy over this news; for some unknown reason, he wasn’t. “She told me the truth after you left like a bandit in the night. She would have told you, too, if you hadn’t sneaked off. She was very contrite, Son, and I understand her motive.”
“She certainly took her time getting a guilty conscience and spilling the truth. I’ll bet she wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t shown up and scared her witless. She knew she dared not cross me again. She came here to torment and punish you, but you understand and forgive her?”
“Yes, Son. You of all people should comprehend vengeance and bitterness as powerful motives to hurt someone. We’ve done terrible things to each other, Stone; I want to end the past; I want peace. I love you and need you. I will never call you my adopted son again; I swear. You’re a Chapman, my only flesh and blood and heir; this ranch will be all yours one day.”
Those admissions touched Stone deeply, but he couldn’t deal with them yet. “Where is this Ginny? She and I have a few things to settle.”
“She left the ranch and Dallas after her confession and plea for forgiveness. We know why you ran from her and why she’s giving you time to cool your temper.” Ben related Ginny’s disclosures and assumptions about him. “She loves you, but she’s afraid you won’t understand and forgive her. Do you love her?”
The younger man paced as those stunning revelations flooded his mind. She seemed to know him well, but he didn’t know her, not the real woman. He’d met “Anna Avery” and “Johanna Chapman,” but not this Ginny woman. What if she wasn’t anything like the women she had pretended to be? She lied and duped with ease and skill. Or did she? Hadn’t he always perceived she was being dishonest and had a dreadful secret? Did she love and want “Steve Carr” or the heir to the Chapman ranch and fortune? “Gone where?” he asked.
“To Colorado to join her father. That’s where she was heading after a visit here with Johanna, but Johanna never made it home. She’s afraid for his life; someone is apparently trying to murder him and steal his silver strike.”
Stone’s heart skipped several beats and his body chilled as additional suspicions gnawed at him. “What’s her real name, Father?”
“Virginia Anne Marston. Her father is—”
“Mathew Marston,” he interrupted, gritting out the name. Now he grasped why she had escaped him again, terrified of his wrath.
Ben noticed his angry reaction. “You know her father?”
“Yep, I know the bastard. He killed my best friend, Clayton Cassidy. They were partners in that silver strike she mentioned. I was chasing him before I had to leave to join Jo—Ginny’s wagontrain to catch Charles Avery and his gang. I’m heading there now to…” Stone narrowed his gaze.
“My Lord in heaven, Son, you aren’t going there to kill her father? You can’t. If he’s guilty of a crime, arrest him, but don’t do this to Ginny.”
“Her claims of love for me are only another trick to protect her father from me and justice. Matt probably told her about me and Clay, may have even sent her here to ensnare me. If Matt is dead, Ginny may believe I killed him, so she came to wreak revenge on me after Johanna died and gave her a path. How can I trust her again? She’s lied too many times.”
“You’re wrong, Son. They were friends for years, since they were girls of thirteen. I read your sister’s letter to me telling all about them.”
“How do you know this Ginny woman didn’t write it just to fool you?”
“She didn’t, Son. Please don’t be hard on her. She loves you. I’m sure she doesn’t know about you and Clay and her father. She would have told me. You’re afraid to believe her because you don’t want to be hurt again. Ginny’s known heartache, too. Let me tell you about her…” Ben related what she had revealed about her difficult life.
Stone wondered if what Ginny had told his father was true. If it was, did it change anything—change what she’d done, change what and who she was? “You want to protect the conniving woman who deceived us?”
“She had good call, Son, and a good heart. I told you her life’s story, Stone; she’s suffered plenty, as we have. Don’t hurt her more. Please.”
Hurt her, his mind shouted, after what she’s done to me? She let me think she was Anna Avery! She let me think she was my sister and I had made love to her! She’s Matt’s daughter, greedy and sly just like him! Well, I have a big surprise for you, Ginny Marston, one you’d never imagine…
“She left a letter for you, Son. And something strange. A doll.” Ben walked to his desk, withdrew both, and returned to hand them to Ston
e.
“Do you understand this?” Ben asked, nodding to the doll.
Stone fingered the keepsake in confusion and anguish. “No, I don’t,” he finally replied. He wondered if what he feared to believe was true: that she did love and want him. Yet every time . a black cloud vanished, another one took its place over their heads: Mathew Marston and his crime would come between them and prevent any hope of a future between them. “I need to be alone for a while. I’m going to my room.”
“You won’t take off again without seeing me first?” Ben entreated.
Stone looked at his father; the man had been changed by this event; he read that in Ben’s eyes, tone, and posture. “No, Father, I won’t. It’s past time for us to make peace. We’ll do it before I ride out on my last mission. When I finish it and return home, it will be to stay.”
Ben hugged his son once more, and this time Stone responded.
“I’ll tell your mother the good news. You don’t know how happy this makes me, Son. We’ll be a real family at last. My beautiful Apache Sunflower has agreed to marry me. We’ll wait for your return for the ceremony.”
Stone was astonished again. “You’re marrying Mother?”
Ben smiled. “As soon as you return. It’s about time, past time. She’s the only woman I’ve ever loved. It’s time the world knew and accepted our feelings for each other.”
“I’m glad, Father. Tell her I’ll speak with her later.”
Stone went to his old room and sat on the bed. His thoughts and emotions were in turmoil. Dare he open and read the message she had left for him? Would it be the truth, as she’d promised in her Fort Smith letter? Or would it be another cunning deception? Did she know who he really was—Clay’s heir and avenger on her father—and wanted to trick him into not taking either of those roles? Would beautiful lies in her missive affect his feelings and actions in a foolish way? No, he vowed coldly as he cautioned himself to remember she wasn’t Anna Avery or Johanna Chapman.
His half sister… She was dead, buried not far from where he had trained this beguiling vixen for her trip to torment him and his father. Stella had taken Johanna away when she was two and he was ten, but he remembered the child who had owned their father’s heart and loyalty. He would never get to meet and know the woman she had become. Yet, he was grateful the woman he had made love to wasn’t his sister. He would grieve for Johanna’s loss in his own time and way. For now, he had to….
Stone’s hands shook as he ripped open the envelope:
Dear Stone,
You know the wicked truth by now and must hate me. To say I’m sorry will mean little or nothing to you at this point. I know giving you my two most prized possessions—myself and my doll—will not make up for the pain and bitterness you’re feeling.
I admit I tricked you many times, but my reasons seemed right at those moments. You also tricked me many times. If you had told me you were Stone Chapman, I would never have done what I did to you, with you. So often I wanted to confess the truth but things you said or did halted me. I sensed you were hiding something powerful and I feared to trust you. After you dumped me in Fort Smith as if I were used-up supplies, I had no choice, I believed—except to come here for help. I was hurt and confused and afraid because I didn’t know you hadn’t deserted me. I also feared I’d become entangled again in the Klan crime and had no one to prove my true identity and innocence. I wanted to hide here until I was out of danger.
I’m sure your father told you he loaned me the money to reach my father in Colorado. He said he would explain my past to you so you’d understand why I left and where I’m going. I suppose I knew all along I couldn’t carry out my promise to your sister, but I loved her so much that I agreed in a moment of anguish.
I was going to tell you everything in private before confessing to your father but you left too quickly. I’ll be out of your life when you get this letter and I’ll understand if you make that forever. Please don’t allow the mistakes I’ve made to increase your torment. Make peace with your father; he’s a good man, even though he made cruel mistakes. He loves you and needs you and he’s sorry. Give him the chance to make everything up to you. This is the moment both of you have waited for, so don’t throw it aside.
I hope you can understand and forgive me one day. I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me and what you mean to me. I’ll always regret what might have been between us…
Love, Ginny
Stone read it again then squeezed his eyes closed. Do I believe you this time, Ginny Marston? It won’t matter after I do what must be done to your father. I understand love and promises between best friends; that’s why I’ll have to kill Matt, if the snake’s still alive. Stone rose from the bed and headed for a long and overdue talk with his father and mother.
Monday morning, the ranch foreman galloped to the house with bad news. “Rustlers struck again last night in the south pasture. Made off with fifty prime steers, one of our best bulls, and about ten horses. Two of the boys are dead and one’s wounded. I’ll round up some hands and we’ll track ‘em down. Raid was early last night so they have a good start on us. It’ll probably take a few days to catch ‘em and bring back the stock.”
Ben was angered and dismayed. “That’ll leave us too short of men here. Pick three hands who are good with rifles, Buck, and I’ll ride with you. Tell the boys to guard Nan and the house while we’re gone. Son, I have to go.”
Stone read Ben’s reluctance to miss a minute of his visit and imminent departure, but his father’s decision was the only one he could make. Stone knew chasing the bandits was perilous and he didn’t want to risk losing Ben to an ambush. “I’m coming with you. When a rustler goes to killing, he’s dangerous and tricky. You might need my help and guns.”
Ben smiled. “Thanks, Son. You’re better at dealing with criminals than we are. Let’s ready supplies and move out in ten minutes.”
Stone realized this episode would delay his trip, and perhaps that was intentional. Surely the trouble here could be cleared up in less than a week. It would take him about thirteen days to cross the Texas panhandle and northeast corner of New Mexico Territory to reach Colorado City. He should be finished here and on the trail shortly before Ginny reached her destination.
Be there and be ready to face me, woman, with the truth for once.
Forts Riley, Harker, and Hays and numerous other relay and home stations were left behind as Ginny’s stage rumbled across the vast Kansas plains. They journeyed on the Smoky Hill Road that ran beside a river by the same name from Fort Riley into Colorado. The combination of occasional low, rolling hills, long stretches of flat terrain, scant trees except near waterlines, outcrops of rocks, and the seemingly endless span of grass became monotonous and nerve-wearing to several passengers. But not so to Ginny, who had never viewed anything like the landscape before her gaze.
She saw countless buffalo, deer, antelope, and foxes. She noticed a few Indians at a distance and was relieved they didn’t attack the coach. Hills became more frequent as they neared the border. Afterward, she watched the Big Sandy River for twenty-five miles as it snaked along beside them in the arid region. She enjoyed the beauty of countless wildflowers, plants with blades that resembled mini yuccas, waving tall grass, several varieties of sagebrush, and amaranth that eventually became tumbleweeds. The openness in all directions amazed her.
Nights had been cool in this region for mid-June, making her thankful for her long sleeves and shawl. Days were often windy, with some gusts swaying the stage and stirring up choking dust on the dirt road.
They crossed the Rush, Horse, and Pond Rivers and passed a prairie dog town where she saw many furry creatures scampering about or standing tall and alert on mounds. The Rocky Mountains appeared on the horizon. Colorado City would be their last stop of the day, and Ginny could hardly eat her scant lunch as she stared at the awesome sight.
A passenger told her that the first gold strike—made by men from her home state of Georgia—was on Cherry Cree
k not far from Colorado City. In ‘58 the shout had been: “Pike’s Peak or bust.” The man gave a wry grin as he related that many had “gone bust.”
During the last leg of the journey, Ginny watched snowcapped Pike’s Peak grow in size as the stage neared its base where her destination awaited her. Her gaze picked out lofty ranges of towering slopes, sharp and rugged mountains, exposed rocks and lofty summits, and upturned foothills. Passes, valleys, canyons, and sandstone hogbacks filled her line of vision, their coverings and splotches of white telling her that winters in the high country were long, rough, and demanding. She couldn’t imagine why her father had fallen in love with this wild area and remained here after the war.
The closer she rode to the city, the larger and taller those peaks and ridges became. Verdant foothills seemed covered in emerald fuzz of evergreens and hardwoods of late spring. Soil in shades of red ranging from vivid to dull, and rocks dotted the landscape. Nearing sunset, the tallest range and summit were like a pearly-pink ridge that drifted up into a startlingly blue sky. Ginny found the azure, green, white, and red colorings a striking contrast. She watched clouds and fog slowly lower themselves like cozy blankets over the jutting and chilly terrain.
Over the next rise, Colorado City sprang into view, nestled on relatively flat land at the base of the uplifted terrain. Apprehensions flooded her. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to locate her father, afraid she wouldn’t be able to find a proper job before Bennett Chapman’s money was spent, and afraid she’d never see Stone again. She hadn’t expected Colorado City to be so large and settled. She relaxed as she realized it wouldn’t be a small and rough and filthy town.
Yet as the stage entered the outskirts, Ginny realized she might have made part of that assumption too soon. She saw tents, shacks, lean-tos, and log cabins with animals and clutter around them that were interspersed with nice homes and businesses of many sizes and kinds. Freight wagons were backed up to stores either to unload or having unloaded their wares. Men were moving goods—picks, shovels, wheelbarrows—inside their stores for the night to prevent them from being stolen.
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