“Dele la medicina,” Tom told Olivia.
The nurse rushed to the bureau, grabbed a spoon and uncorked an amber bottle.
“No,” Katie said. “Don’t give her medicine. She needs to be lucid if she’s going to talk to us.”
“You can’t just take her off the laudanum. She’s been on it for close to four months, as far as I can figure.” Tom turned to Olivia. “Es importante que tome la medicina, pero reduzca la dosis.”
The woman nodded, then questioned him in Spanish, and he responded.
“What did you tell her?”
“To decrease the dosage slowly.”
“Why? She seems to be taking too much. She doesn’t make much sense.”
“Laudanum is a form of opium,” Tom said. “If she suddenly stops taking it, she’ll get very sick.”
“Do you think the medication is making her ill?”
“I’d bet on it. Jeremiah is no fool. He had to know what laudanum would do to his wife. The question is, why did he give it to her? And why did he instruct Maria to continue giving it to her?”
“To keep her quiet?” Katie asked.
“That’s one way to ensure her silence and cooperation.”
Fortunately, Katie held her tongue while Martha Haney took her medicine. He hoped that meant she understood what he’d been talking about, which he found surprising. Up until now, she’d fought him every step of the way.
They both watched as Martha closed her eyes and slowly relaxed into a state of slumber.
“She asked for her daddy,” Katie whispered. “I hope that’s not a sign of her mental state. I’d feel horrible if she was being drugged for good reason.”
“I think she’s mentally sound, if that makes you feel better. And I think she’d be happy to have her father come take her home. I’ll tell Olivia to have Maria send word to him. In the meantime, let’s get out of here. There’s a storm brewing in the wind, and I want to be well on our way when it hits.”
Katie took him at his word, and moments later they were mounted and on their way.
They rode for an hour, yet the sky never lost the gray of dawn, and coal-colored clouds enveloped the sun.
“You said you wouldn’t bring Sarah Jane to the Lazy G unless you were sure she’d be safe.” Katie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Will she? Be safe?”
“I have a gun, and I’ll use it if necessary.” He slowed his horse to let Katie ride up beside him, and looked her in the eye. “I won’t let anything happen to her. She’s Caroline’s child, and I’ll protect her with my life if I have to.”
She had no doubt that he would, and the thought of his loyalty, his vow to protect Sarah Jane, warmed her heart. Yet it struck fear in her, too. She’d just begun to see an unexpected side to Tom McCain, and she didn’t want anything to happen to him.
A flash of lightning cracked across the Texas sky, followed by a rumble of thunder.
Katie shivered, but more from the intensity in Tom’s gaze than from the chill in the air.
He urged his mount forward before she could respond, and she followed his lead.
Within minutes, the rain began to fall, first in sprinkles, then in sheets. Lightning cracked and ripped across the sky in jagged streaks. Thunder, deep and ominous, rumbled and roared, causing the horses to become fretful and agitated. Still, Tom seemed to ride harder, faster.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her voice straining to be heard over the sound of pelting rain, creaking leather and her pounding heart.
“To find cover,” he called over his shoulder. “Can you keep up?”
“I’ll try.” Katie hoped he knew where he was going, because the horses weren’t the only ones uncomfortable and skittish.
“There’s a cave not far from here.”
Katie envisioned a long, narrow tunnel—cold, dank and dark, with bats clinging upside down from a craggy ceiling. “I think I’d rather get wet than go into a cave.”
“We’ll be fine. It’s more of a hollowed-out spot under a rock ledge.”
“How do you know about it?”
“My mother and I once stayed there for a few days.” He urged his horse forward, and Katie did the same.
With the wind and the rain in her face, Katie tried to keep her eyes on his back. She certainly hated to lose sight of him now. When Tom pulled up, she stopped beside him.
He nodded toward a dark space in the rocky hillside. “That’s it. We’ll wait out the storm in there.”
Katie nodded, only too happy to dismount and escape the drenching rain. When they reached the small shelter, she climbed from the mare. “What will we do with the horses?”
“I’ll take care of them.” He handed her his bedroll and saddlebag. “Take these, then go inside and change into some dry clothes.”
Shivering, Katie nodded and surveyed her newfound shelter. They might stay dry in here, but they certainly wouldn’t have any privacy.
She called to Tom’s back. “There’s no door. How will you knock before coming in?”
“Make it quick and you won’t have to worry about me interrupting you.”
Katie ducked her head as she stepped under the ledge, her arms laden with her bag, as well as his bedroll that was protected by an oiled-canvas cover and the wet saddlebag. She set them just inside the opening. Peeking over her shoulder, she saw Tom tethering the horses outside, his back to the open entrance. She doubted he’d stay out in the rain any longer than necessary and decided to hurry.
Her fingers fumbled with the metal buttons. She struggled to peel away the wet denim clinging to her skin and change into something dry. She wouldn’t bother with underclothes, or with tucking in the tails of a red flannel shirt.
Once in dry clothing, she scanned the three-sided shelter protected by rock walls and tried to imagine a mother making a home here for her son. Had they camped here to hide? Or had they stayed here after they’d been told to leave the Lazy G?
Sighing, Katie opened a bedroll and made a place to sit and wait out the storm.
“Will you hand me my bag?” Tom asked from the entrance.
Katie tossed him the saddlebag and watched him withdraw a change of clothing.
“Turn around,” he said.
Katie did as she was told. She listened to the sound of the rain pelting the ground and ignored the sounds of him changing his clothing.
When it was clear that he’d finished, she asked, “Now what do we do?”
“Wait.”
“Then sit by me.” Katie patted a spot beside her on the blanket. “There’s no need to stand for the next few hours.”
He ambled toward her, although she sensed reluctance in his steps. Still, he took a seat beside her.
“Tell me about your mother,” she said, hoping to learn more about him.
He furrowed his brow. “Why?”
“Just curiosity. I’d like to know more about her.”
He glanced outside, watching the rain splash off the gray ledge. “She was a pretty woman who worked long and hard. Sometimes she sang in the Comanche dialect, but usually she spoke Spanish. It was the language my parents had in common.”
“Tell me about your father.” Katie wondered if he would mention him by name. Would he admit to being Harrison’s grandson, and Caroline’s brother?
“We didn’t see him often. My mother and I lived in a small cabin near the Lazy G. My father would visit us at times, but for the most part, we only had each other.”
Katie couldn’t imagine having no one to talk to as a child. “It sounds like a lonely life.”
“Sometimes it was. It was also tough. Yet, as mean as some people could be to her when she’d go into town for supplies, she never complained about the life she was forced to lead.”
His answer brought only more questions to mind, but Katie didn’t want to a
sk too many at once. She preferred to quiz him gently. “How old were you when she died?”
“Ten.”
“Losing both parents while you were so young must have been difficult,” she said.
“It was.” His jaw tensed. “I think it was hardest on her, though. She knew she was leaving me alone, with no one to look after me.”
“So she knew that she was dying?”
“I think so. When she took me to the Lazy G and they ran us off, she tried to take me to her people. On the way, we camped here.”
“Did she suffer?” Katie hoped that she hadn’t.
“Some, but I think she suffered more from the rejection of my father’s people than from her illness. They hated her for being an Indian and blamed her for loving a white man and having his illegitimate child.”
Katie saw the pain in his eyes as he continued to stare out into the rain. It gripped her heart. “Were you with her when she died?”
“Yes, and I did my best to bury her deep enough so the wild animals wouldn’t disturb her bones.” He grew quiet, pensive.
Katie grieved for the small boy who had lost his mother. Longing to take Tom into her arms and console him, she reached for his hand.
At her touch, he turned to face her. When she looked into his eyes, she saw his pain, felt his need for love and affection. And maybe even more than that, his need for acceptance.
She couldn’t think of anything to say that would sufficiently convey her sympathy or her desire to make things right.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, knowing it wasn’t nearly enough.
“It was a long time ago.”
Tom turned his head, facing the gray wall of the cave, shutting her out of the memories he’d only begun to share. Out of his life, so it seemed.
Well, Katie wouldn’t let it be that easy. Even though they fought like a stray hound and a wayward tabby, there were things she respected him for, things she admired.
And whether either of them liked it or not, she’d fallen in love with Tom McCain.
Chapter Fourteen
Katie and Tom remained in the cave until the rain let up, then they proceeded to ride until they reached Hannah’s house.
Lobo heard their approach first and ran out of the barn. When he spotted Tom, he barked then raced toward him like a long-lost friend—or maybe a brother.
Next came Trapper, who limped out of the barn much slower. When he realized Tom and Katie were back, he called out, “Hannah! Come on outside. Tom’s home.”
The old man tried to pick up his pace, then reached for his right knee, his efforts to hurry clearly causing him pain.
The front door swung open as Hannah came out of the house. She wiped her hands on the dish towel she carried. Then she tossed it over her left shoulder and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Sarah Jane! Look who’s here!”
Lobo stopped about six feet short of Tom’s horse, turned his woolly head back to Sarah Jane, who’d just ventured out from the barn, as well, then he looked at Tom and barked several times.
“It’s okay,” Tom said. “I understand.”
Lobo then trotted back to the child.
It was amazing, Katie thought. She wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it for herself. Tom and the dog seemed to have communicated, just as Hannah had said they could.
Tom had told Lobo to look after Sarah Jane, and the dog had understood the order. Even now, he seemed to be questioning whether that order still stood.
When Katie and Tom reached the yard, they dismounted. Katie had no more than turned around when Hannah greeted her with a warm hug. “It’s good to have you back.”
“It’s nice to be back. How’s Erin doing?”
“Better,” Hannah said. “The bruises are fading, and she’s getting up a little more each day. I had Dr. Crandall come out to check on her yesterday, and he said that her larynx was injured when the man tried to strangle her, so it’s difficult for her to talk. He says it will heal, but he wants her to rest her voice.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’d like to talk to her when she’s able.”
“The doctor seemed to think that would be in a week or so.”
“How about Sarah Jane?” Katie asked. “Is she talking yet?”
“Not a single word. Dr. Crandall said to give her time—and plenty of love, which is easy to do. She’s a real sweetheart.”
As Sarah Jane approached the adults, the wolf-dog at her side, Katie offered her a smile. “I hope you had fun with Lobo, Hannah and Trapper while I was gone.”
Sarah Jane nodded.
“Did you miss me?” Katie asked the girl.
Sarah Jane smiled and, again, she nodded.
“I’m glad, honey. I missed you something fierce. Do you have a hug for me?” Katie dropped to her knees and held out her arms. When Sarah Jane stepped into her embrace and squeezed her back, Katie’s heart soared, and she offered a prayer of thanksgiving.
“How’d it go?” Trapper asked Tom.
“Not bad.”
For a moment Katie’s eyes sought Tom’s. She saw a flash of sentiment, but for the life of her, she couldn’t quite peg what it was—pain? Regret? Tenderness?
“We can talk while you help me cool down the horses,” Tom told Trapper.
“Come on inside,” Hannah said to Katie. “You, too, Sarah Jane. I’ll fix us all something to eat.”
As hungry as she was, Katie would have preferred to stay with the men and listen to what Tom had to say, but she followed Hannah into the house.
Once inside the kitchen she washed her hands in the tub of water in the sink. Then she watched the older woman move effortlessly about, removing plates, slicing bread and meat.
“Can I help?” Katie asked.
“Absolutely not. You sit down and rest.”
When Katie complied, Hannah turned to Sarah Jane. “I have some cookies I’d like you to take to Erin.”
“I’d be happy to take them to her,” Katie said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, of course.” Maybe Katie would get a chance to ask her a couple of questions. Erin might not be able to talk, but there were other ways to give a yes or no response—like nodding her head or squeezing her hand.
After Hannah filled a plate, Katie carried the cookies into the bedroom that had been assigned to Erin. Although the door was open, Katie remained in the hallway and said, “Good afternoon. How are you feeling?”
The brunette turned to the doorway and gave a little shrug.
“You certainly look better than you did when we first brought you here.”
Again, Erin gave a slight shrug of the shoulder.
Katie carried the cookies into the room and set them on the table near the bed, where a piece of paper and a pencil sat next to a Bible. Apparently, Hannah had found a way for Erin to communicate, which was good.
“Would you like a cookie?” Katie asked.
Erin shook her head no.
“I’m not sure if Hannah told you, but Tom and I went to Stillwater to meet with Harrison Graves. Did Caroline ever mention her grandfather?”
Erin nodded.
“Did she like him?”
Erin reached for the paper and pencil. After a few minutes, she handed it back to Katie.
He was stubborn and hateful. They fought a lot. He sent her away and cut her out of his will.
“That’s not true,” Katie said. “I mean, he didn’t cut her out of his will.”
Erin bit down on her bottom lip, then reached for the paper and wrote again.
A man used to visit Caroline sometimes. He said her grandfather hated her for disobeying him and never wanted to see her again.
“Her grandfather had been looking for her. I’m not sure for how long. Maybe not for six years. But recently he hired Tom McCain to find
her.”
Erin’s brow furrowed as if she was trying to make sense of that information.
“Who told Caroline about the will?” Katie asked.
Again, Erin wrote out her answer. Jeremiah Haney.
Just as she suspected. Katie blew out a sigh. What would provoke Jeremiah to tell Caroline that her grandfather hated her and that he’d disinherited her? Had Harrison really threatened to cut her out of the will? Or had Jeremiah wanted to keep her away from the Lazy G?
And if he’d wanted to keep her away, how far would he have gone to keep her away permanently?
* * *
“Okay, now you can tell me how things went in Stillwater,” Trapper said, as he and Tom led the horses to the barn. “What did Harrison Graves have to say?”
“He believes that I was able to find Caroline’s trail—and that she’s dead.” Tom removed the saddle and blanket from Caballo and draped them over the top rung of the corral. “But he stopped short of believing me when I told him not to trust Jeremiah Haney.”
“Who’s that? Randolph’s son?”
“Yes. And I think he’s somehow responsible for Caroline’s death. If I can prove it, I’m going to make sure justice is served.”
“They got a sheriff in Stillwater. That’s what he’s paid to do. I don’t know why you have to make it your business.”
“You know why.”
Trapper sighed. “So in the meantime, what are you going to do with Sarah Jane? She’s a pretty little thing. And she don’t make no trouble. Hannah would love to keep her here.”
“I’d feel good about her staying here, too,” Tom said, “but that would deprive her of the ranch and estate that are rightfully hers.”
Trapper kicked at the ground with the toe of a scuffed boot. “I suppose you figured out a way to take her to Stillwater and to keep her safe.”
“Yes. I just hope my plan works.”
Trapper crossed his arms and eyed Tom carefully. “And if it doesn’t work?”
“Then I’ll bring Sarah Jane back here.”
Trapper began to brush Gully Washer. “I really like that little moppet. And Hannah near glows when she’s fussin’ over her. That wolf-dog likes her, too.”
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