Mae: Book Six: The Cattleman's Daughters

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Mae: Book Six: The Cattleman's Daughters Page 13

by Danni Roan


  As the door closed, Reese became more certain than ever that something was wrong. He pulled the note from his pocket and read it once more.

  Come at once. Mae

  The words seemed somehow ominous. Backtracking, Reese stepped into the saddle and turned his horse down the driveway to the street. Had Mae sent the note as a joke? If not, who would have sent it? Ginny? But wouldn’t she have sent for Sean? He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. A nagging voice in the back of his mind told him not to go.

  A shadow passed over the window and Mae jumped to her feet. Someone was outside. “Sean, Sean,” she called, standing on tip-toes to see out the window. “Sean is that you? Help me.” Her voice was low.

  A voice drifted to Reese on the wind and he wheeled, looking about him to see where it could have come from. No one leaned out the windows at the top of the house, no one stood in the garden under the moon. He was alone. Again he heard the voice. “Mae?” he turned again, catching a glint of moonlight on glass.

  Reese tapped on the window. “Mae. Mae. Are you in there?” A shadow stirred within the blackness, then materialized into the pale face of his sister’s best friend.

  “Reese? Oh Reese I’m so glad to see you.” Her voice was muffled by the small pane of glass between them. “Please, you must help me, Aunt Jemma’s gone mad.”

  Reese’s eyes grew wide. “Move back,” he said, waving his hand to help her understand. Bending, he strained to open the window, but it wouldn’t budge. “It won’t open,” he called again, “can you reach the latch?”

  Mae jumped as high as she could but she came nowhere near the top of the window frame or the latch at the top of the casement. She tried again several times until her breathing was heavy and a stich started in her side.

  Reese waved at her to retreat again as he pulled his coat from his shoulders and wrapped it around his arm. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tapped the glass hard with his hand. The tinkle of glass sounded loud in the stillness and his scalp crawled with the anticipation of being caught. For several moments he sat there holding his breath, but he was still alone. Silently he reached through the broken pane and unlocked the window, then pushed it open.

  “Reese?” Mae’s voice was as soft as the wind.

  “Give me your hands,” he said, leaning in through the window.

  Mae grasped his outstretched hands and he was glad for her strength as he began lifting and pulling her up and out of the darkness.

  As she came to the edge of the sill he could no longer simply lift her with the strength of his arms. “You’ll have to climb over,” he called, “can you reach up to my collar?”

  Mae nodded a look of concentration on her face as she grasped the windowsill. Reese wrapped his arms around her waist, trying to lift her further. Her hands crawled up along his shoulder, clutching his coat and she pulled herself up, her heavy skirts obscuring his vision. A knee in the middle of his back told him she was through, and a moment later he pushed himself upright.

  “Are you alright?” He reached for her, pulling her to him and wrapping her in his arms. “Mae, are you hurt?” he whispered into her hair.

  “No.” He could hear the tears in her voice. “Please take me home.” He felt her whole body shudder.

  “I’ll take you home, Mae,” he said, still holding her close.

  Chapter 19

  Reese tightened his grip on Mae as she sat snuggled against him on his horse. He had ridden as fast as he could to the Johnson home, fear nipping at his heels the whole way. Once he'd pulled her from the basement where she'd been imprisoned, they had made their way to the street where his horse waited.

  "You're sure you're unhurt?" he asked quietly, his breath ruffling her tussled hair. Mae nodded against his chest. She'd been so quiet as he rode through the shadows of a sleeping neighborhood.

  "I'll get you home and Mel can look after you, it will be alright."

  "No." Mae lifted her head, turning it awkwardly to look at him. "You can't take me to your house, it's the first place Jemma will look." Her voice shook with emotion.

  "Mae, I have to take you somewhere. You'll be safe there, Father will see to it." His arm contracted spontaneously around her waist. He would keep her safe, no one would harm her.

  The girl shook her head. He could feel the movement and sighed, waiting for what came next. "Just take me home, Reese."

  "That's what I'm trying to do," he said, fear and exasperation swirling together to form a tight bubble in his chest.

  Mae placed a hand on his chest, pushing herself away from him, and tried to look into his eyes. "I mean to my home." Her voice was the bereaved whisper of a child. He pulled her back to him, pressing her head against his chest that felt chilled without it.

  "I can't take you all the way to Wyoming," he started, but stilled as her sob shot through him. "Mae, you have nothing, no clothes, no money. We need to get help. We need to sort this out."

  Again, Mae shook her head. "You don't understand; you don't know what happened."

  "Then tell me," Reese soothed. "Make me understand.

  Reese's hands on the reins twisted into fists as Mae told about Mr. Wilms' proposal, or his assumption that she would be his bride, and the horse side stepped anxiously, sensing the rider’s mood.

  "If they come for me what can anyone do?" Mae finished. "Jemma's my guardian while I'm here in Boston and I'm just some silly little girl who doesn't know what's good for her."

  Easing his grip on the reins, Reese shifted them to one hand and ran the other one over her midnight hair. "I'll take you home Mae, I'll find a way," he soothed. But where could he go? Where could they get the help they needed in the middle of the night?

  "Mr. Reese?" Carl McHain's shocked, sleepy voice met them at the door. "What's wrong, what's happening?" He asked, standing in the door, shrugging a suspender over a bare shoulder.

  "Can we come in?" Reese asked, looking into the dark interior of the small apartment.

  "Aye." The man's voice was confused but he pulled the door wide, mussing his sleep-tasseled hair further as he ran a hand through it.

  Reese ushered Mae through the door, his arm still protectively wrapped around her shoulders. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Carl, but this is rather urgent."

  "Is Miss Melissa with you?" the lean Irishman asked, looking through the still open door expectantly.

  "No, but I need your help. We need your help," Reese corrected.

  Closing the door behind him, Carl moved further into the room. "Come into the kitchen," he drawled, leading the way. For a big man he was surprisingly light on his feet, rolling on the balls of his feet as if ready to pounce at any moment.

  With a soft scuffling sound, their host scratched a match on his pant leg and lit the lamp on the table. "Now sit yourselves down and I'll make a cup of tea. You look like you could use it," he added, taking in Mae's tear-stained face.

  Reese pulled out a chair and eased the still shaken girl into it, before sitting at the small table next to her. "Carl, I'll need you to purchase a train ticket for us as soon as the depot opens, can you do that?"

  "Aye, I mean, yes." The man's back was turned and in the dimly lit room Reese couldn't see his expression as he filled the kettle and placed it on the stove.

  The apartment was small, old, and needed a good coat of paint, but it was clean and warm. Reese felt some of the tension leaving him as he looked around the room, taking the time to collect his thoughts.

  "You don't need to know all of the details," Reese finally spoke, "it's probably better if you don't, but I'm depending on you, Carl."

  Carl sat two cups before his unexpected guests, then took up his own and sat at the table. "I'm listening," he said, sipping from the dark brew. He was surprised that Mae was so quiet.

  "Good. As I said, I'll need two tickets for Casper, Wyoming, as soon as you can get them." Reese looked up into the bright blue eyes of the man his sister had taken on as personal project. "I'll also need you to collect some clothing items
from a shop. I'll give you the money." He looked at Mae where she sat in her tattered evening dress.

  "Mae will need some other items as well. Mae, can you make a list?" He touched her arm lightly.

  "Yes, but Mr. McHain might find it embarrassing to buy woman's clothing."

  "Not at all, lass," the man said with a smile, "I buy all my sister’s thing, or at least go with her to get what she needs. Matter of fact, there's a shop not far from here that has most of what a young lady needs."

  "Good." Reese turned his green gaze on the black-haired man. "I have a few more favors to ask as well. Do you have paper and pencil?"

  "I do," Carl stated. "I'll fetch them now, then I think Miss Mae should try to rest a while. I might not understand the story, but the tale does tell on her weary face."

  As Carl left the room, Reese reached for Mae's hand. "He's right, you should try to get some rest." He studied her face, seeing the weary look in her eyes. “We have a long way to go tomorrow."

  Impulsively, Mae threw her arms around him, pulling him tight. "Thank you, Reese, thank you. I'm always telling Mel how fortunate she is to have a big brother, and you've proved it again."

  Reese patted her awkwardly on the back but pushed her away as Carl walked back into the room and placed paper and pencil on the table. "You go with Carl now while I get things organized."

  Mae offered him a wan smile, and turned to leave the room.

  "She's quite a girl, that one," Carl's words caught Reese by surprise as he bent over the note for his sister.

  "I'd have to agree."

  "You're in a bad way in this, aren't you?" Carl asked, settling in the chair opposite. "You have two women who have you tightly coiled 'round their little finger."

  Reese glared at the man, his pride arguing with the truth in his heart, but then smiled. "You have no idea."

  The dark-haired Irishman laughed. "I've got a sister as well, and more."

  Slowly Reese lay the pencil on the table and looked at the man who had been slowly learning the ropes of his family business over the past two years. "You'll take care of her for me, won't you?" he asked, green eyes meeting blue.

  Carl's lips turned up at the sides, but his eyes were shadowed. "Aye, I'll look after her while you’re gone, never fear," he said, extending his hand.

  Reese took Carl's large hand in his, noting the scarred knuckles and strong grip. "Thank you," he said simply, knowing he could count on the man to see that his sister was safe. "Now I'll need you to pass this note onto Mel for me," he spoke, extending the neatly folded paper, "but not before we leave." He pulled it back. "There's no telling how she'll react, or what she'll do."

  Carl's sharp bark of laughter made it clear he understood exactly what Reese meant.

  "Now, I have to run a few errands myself before dawn. If you'll keep Mae here, I'll be back as quickly as possible."

  Chapter 20

  The rocking rhythm of the train as its wheels clacked across the rails made Reese's eyes droop and sleep beckoned. He was truly exhausted after an adrenaline-filled night in Boston.

  Rescuing Mae had only been the start and as she'd slept, tucked in with Carl's little sister, he had written several notes to family and friends before striking out to see an old chum.

  The confrontation had not been pretty, as in the wee hours of the morning he entered a rather disreputable gambling house. Fortunately, his target had been winning that night and however reluctantly, had forked over the money he owed Reese.

  At one point he'd thought the man would refuse and his heart raced to think of where he'd get the money he needed. Going to the bank was out of the question if he wanted to avoid leaving a trail, and besides, he hoped to be on the first train out of the city before the bankers were even awake.

  Mae studied Reese's face as his eyes drifted shut. She knew he must have been exhausted after everything that had happened the night before. Thinking about it made her shiver and she put the thoughts out of her mind.

  Whoever could have imagined her aunt would snap the way she had? What could have caused it? She wanted to discuss it further with Reese, but decided to let him sleep. They had several days of travel ahead and she was sure there would be time later.

  As strange peacefulness settled over her as the train carried them away from Boston. She felt safe, protected as she watched her friend’s brother sleep. He had said very little to her that morning as with the sun barely peaking over the eastern horizon, they'd collected the things Carl had purchased and headed for the station.

  "Don't worry," he'd spoken, taking her by the arm, "I've informed Mel that I'm escorting you home to your family. She won't let your aunt know, though, and by the time Jemma Johnson can do anything about it, we'll be well away."

  Mae huffed in relief. "I feel terrible not saying good-bye to Melissa," she offered.

  "If I know Mel, you'll see her again," Reese stated, striding along the streets as the town began to wake. "I also sent a note to Sean. I hope your cousin has enough sense to stay well away from your aunt."

  "I'm sure he will," Mae said, stifling a yawn behind her hand. "Sean's always been the sensible one."

  Mae smiled again as the train gave a lurch, gaining speed, and a lock of curly hair fell onto Reese’s forehead. Gently she brushed it away and his eyes fluttered open.

  "What's wrong?" he whispered, taking her hand and staring into her dark eyes.

  "Nothing. Your hair..." She looked up to indicate the unruly tresses.

  He smiled tiredly. "Are you feeling better now?"

  "Yes, I'm so thankful to be heading home. It's a long journey but with each mile I feel more..." She hesitated, thinking, "Free."

  Reese laughed a soft rumbling murmur from deep in his chest. "You truly are special, Mae James."

  Mae's smile brightened. "You're tired, you should sleep," she said, wrapping her arm in his and snuggling up close. It had been a long night for each of them and they were tired. "We'll watch over each other for a while," she added, closing her eyes and resting her head on his shoulder.

  Reese let her squirm in close to him and realized once again how deeply she'd already wriggled into his heart. He was a fool for caring about this girl, a complete dunderhead, but he could no sooner stop the feelings than he could stop his heart from beating.

  He looked down at the top of her head where her simple hat rested, his heart squeezing in his chest at the knowledge that she would never see him as anything more than Melissa's big brother.

  Reese had never believed he could be a fool for a woman, yet here he was escorting the damsel in distress half-way across the country, and she didn't even realize he was her knight in shining armor.

  His tired mind turned to thoughts of his sister. He never would have believed he would have to leave her in Boston. He'd always planned on seeing her well-married with a man who would look out for her, protect her. For now he'd just have to trust that Carl would do the job.

  His mouth twisted into a wry grin, thinking of how quickly he and his family had accepted the man. His father had been dead set against it, but seeing how the one-time brawler put his sister first, how he'd do whatever job he was given without complaint, had won even the older Mr. Middleton over.

  Reese even had to admit that he considered the man a friend after months of working together. Yes, he was glad now that his sister and Mae had insisted on stopping that day to help a bloodied Ca’thal McHain.

  The gentle swinging of the first class rail car lulled his busy mind as he wrapped an arm protectively around the girl sitting next to him and drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  Casper Wyoming June 1892

  "We are not riding all the way to the ranch," Reese said, heat rising in his voice as the argument continued.

  "But it's much faster," Mae stated, crossing her arms stubbornly across her midsection.

  "It might be faster, but what about supplies, bedding, provisions?" Reese's argument was logical.

  "We can take a pack hors
e," Mae countered, looking truculent.

  "And where will we sleep if the weather turns bad? On the ground in the mud?" He was sure he had her now.

  "Yes, why not?"

  "Why not!" Reese Middleton threw his arms up in exasperation. "Why not!" He shook his head and began ticking reasons off on the fingers of one hand. "One, if it rains we'll be wet. Two, we will have no protection from wild animals. Three, pneumonia, typhoid, scurvy!"

  Mae began to laugh, causing the man before her to run his hands through his hair in exasperation.

  "Scurvy? Really Reese? Scurvy?" She laughed again. "For someone who has been studying medicine on the sly for nearly three years you don't know much, do you?" Her eyes twinkled with mirth. "Besides you don't get scurvy in four days."

  "We are still taking the wagon," Reese stated, crossing his arms in a mirror image of her own stance.

  "But..."

  "But nothing, I have already paid for it and that's final."

  Mae's head drooped as she sucked in a shuddering breath. "It's just that it's much slower," she sighed.

  Reese's voice softened as he reached out and took her by the arms. "I know that, but it isn't safer." Placing a finger under her chin, he turned her face up to look at him. Her dark eyes were bright with unshed tears.

  "Mae, you've waited this long to see your family, you can wait a little longer." He smiled, hoping to cheer her. "We've come so far, racing off unprepared could be worse than the delay."

  She nodded awkwardly, her chin still resting on his hand. "Alright, I guess I understand."

  "Good, now let’s get some provisions."

  Casper was not at all what he'd expected from a frontier town. The streets bustled with people - cowboys on horses, families in wagons and carts of all types, not to mention the press of bodies coming and going from the train station.

  Large freight wagons pulled by long strings of mules moved away from the depot, loaded with supplies for outlying ranches and smaller or emerging towns. Growth was evident even if shops, houses, and other businesses wore rough facades.

 

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