Moon Over Montana (McCutcheon Family Series Book 5)

by Caroline Fyffe

  Charity laughed. “I don’t think much scares her.”

  “That’s probably true. Still, she’s young and in an unfamiliar place. Did she ever say if she knew the Indian brave?”

  Charity nodded. “Yes. I asked her in the barn today after it happened. From the little I could understand, he is from her tribe, and may even be a suitor. Or was. I’m not quite sure. From her reaction, I could tell she didn’t want to talk with me about him. Maybe she thinks we’ll do him harm. I don’t know. She was just as surprised as we were when he showed up.”

  It had been a while since Charity had seen the Biscuit Barrel this busy. The sight of Reverend Crittlestick brought thoughts of the wedding and almost cemented a lump in her throat. But she was learning she was a heck of a lot stronger than she thought she was when Brandon rode out. She gave a wave when the reverend looked over and smiled. Berta May, sitting with him, was set to come out to the ranch tomorrow for a second fitting of her mother’s wedding dress. Charity wondered if she should call it off until she knew more.

  Several minutes later, the waitress brought dishes laden with large slices of pies of all kinds. She and Faith had gotten the last two slices of boysenberry.

  “Hello, Charity.”

  Brandon!

  A dark shadow of whiskers covered his square jaw, and his dark, expressive eyes were hooded. What did that mean? Had he taken the job? Fear mingled in her stomach with excitement and joy. The chatter in the room quieted. Seemed everyone was anxious to hear what he had to say.

  She struggled to swallow quickly. “Brandon.”

  He held out his hand. “Can we speak outside?”

  How could she say no? She fought the urge to seek out her mother’s face, or Luke’s, or anyone else in her family. She had to stop running to everyone else to make her decisions for her. Nodding, she let him help her up and walked through the quiet room, everyone’s gazes still glued to their backs.

  • • •

  Fox Dancing ran to her bedroom window when she heard a stone tap against it, followed by another. She struggled to get the contraption open, but when she couldn’t seem to make it work, she placed her warm palm on the clear barrier and looked out into the night. It didn’t take long to spot Painted Bear Stone standing below her window. He must have watched everyone leave in the wagon earlier.

  Their gazes locked, and a chill slipped up her spine. Never in her wildest imaginings had she expected him to follow her. But he had. And he was here. When she’d seen him in the struggle with the white boy-man, she’d nearly flung herself on him to get him to stop. If he’d killed the white man, he’d have been hung.

  Turning, she ran through her room, down the hall and stairway, and flung open the front door. Once she was outside, she stopped and gathered her runaway emotions and approached Painted Bear Stone slowly, stopping a few feet away. Anger, and something else, burned deep in his wide-set eyes.

  “You are my wife, and you run off like a child,” he said in their native tongue. It wasn’t a question, only an angry complaint. “The agreement was made and horses delivered.”

  He stepped forward, but she held her ground.

  “You have disgraced me. I have the right to kill you this moment if I choose it so.” He pulled his long knife from its sheath. The blade glimmered in the moonlight.

  She held her head high and nodded. “Yes!” she retorted. “And I will disgrace you again if you try to take me back. Go find another wife from among the young women of the tribe. Someone who desires to be trapped inside a tepee to cook your food, sew robes to hang over your shoulders, or have your children. Because I do not! I am also a warrior—just like you! I have made my vision quest and killed a bear on my own.” She thought of the scar that spanned her back from approaching the animal she thought dead. “That should prove to you that I am serious. You should have taken my word when I told you I had no interest, before asking my father.”

  Why doesn’t he look convinced?

  He came a step closer, his eyes glittering, but she was not frightened. This was Painted Bear Stone. He would do anything to keep her safe, as he had since childhood, even follow her through the white man’s land where they were not welcome. His mouth pulled down and his eyes took in every detail. She felt her spirit bending toward his, and she jerked her thoughts away.

  “We will leave now. Before the rest return.”

  “Did you see him?” Fox Dancing asked, unable to keep her excitement over Luk quiet another moment. “He’s just like Father said, an important white man among his people. He’s kind too. Though he was surprised when—”

  “I saw not a white man and not a red man,” he interrupted curtly. “I saw a man with one foot in both worlds.”

  His tone cut like flint and she winced. He didn’t care about her brother, only about getting her back to the village, where she would become his property. Before she knew what he was about, he reached out and grasped her wrist, pulling her to the hard muscles of his chest.

  “Don’t put up a fight, Fox Dancing. It is time to return to your world.”

  At the sound of hoofbeats, Painted Bear Stone looked around.

  Not knowing who it was, she placed her hand on his arm; the warm sensation under her fingertips surprised her. Fear for him made her voice hard. “Go! You are not safe!” Using the distraction, she jerked out of his grasp, darted into the house, and slammed the door.

  Chapter Thirty

  As soon as they walked out the door, Charity vaulted into Brandon’s arms. Keenly aware of everyone watching through the windows, Brandon took time to hold her, relishing the feel. For a moment he closed his eyes, thanking God for this beautiful woman who still loved him even though he’d gone off half-cocked on a wild goose chase all the way to Kansas City and back.

  “You’re back so soon,” she said against his neck. “I wasn’t expecting you for another week, or more.”

  “You complaining?” he teased.

  “Never.”

  “Good.” He set her away. “Walk with me. Everyone’s watching. I think we’ve given them enough gossip fodder for a year, and then some.”

  He took her hand in his and started down the street.

  “It didn’t take but a few minutes in Kansas City for me to know I had to get back to Y Knot—and you—or lose my mind,” he said as they strolled down the boardwalk. “When I finally came to my senses, there was still an early train Monday morning, and I wasn’t going to let it leave without me.”

  They stopped in front of Lou and Dritt’s boardinghouse. He turned and went up the walk. The inside of the inn was dimly lit, with one light burning in the window. He heard a murmur of voices from inside.

  “Let’s sit out here on the porch. Lou won’t mind.”

  He sat Charity in one chair and pulled another chair close. “First things first,” he said, finding her lips. The strength with which she kissed him back surprised him. He gathered his emotions, then pulled back.

  “I couldn’t do it, Charity. The moment I arrived, I started wishing you were there. Everything I saw, I wished I was sharing with you. Deep in my heart, I knew it wouldn’t be right to take you from the ranch, even if you would go. You belong out here.” He glanced down the walk at the quiet street, the only sounds coming from the Hitching Post Saloon a couple doors to their right or the Biscuit Barrel on their left.

  He liked it. The quiet. And the multitude of stars he could see overhead. “Kansas City was dirty and crowded. Every place I went, every person I met, I was comparing it to what I have here.” He looked deep into her eyes. “Tell me I still have you, Charity. That you still love me. That’s been my deepest fear, that I’d come home and you would have changed your mind.”

  A beautiful smile graced her face, meant only for him. “I love you with all my heart, Brandon. I never stopped, and I never will. I prayed every night you’d come home, but still, I only wanted that if it would make you happy.”

  Unable to stop himself, he wrapped her in his arms again. “That’s m
usic to my ears, darlin’. You’ve made me a happy man. I know my place and I won’t ever doubt again. The feelings I was imagining about Timberlake were only that. Figments of my fancy. Wishes of what I’d lost as a boy and what never could be again. I’m not a kid anymore, and I don’t want to be. You’re the only thing that is important to me. Wherever you are, I’ll be happy.”

  The door creaked open and he sat back, looking through the darkness.

  “Who’s out there?” Lou called softly. “I hear voices.”

  “It’s me and Charity, Lou,” Brandon replied.

  “Sheriff?”

  “That’s right. We needed a private place to talk. Thought you and Dritt wouldn’t mind us using your porch.”

  “Of course we don’t mind. Consider it yours, anytime you’d like.”

  Brandon chuckled. “That’s kind of you, Lou. After the wedding, we may take you up on that offer, being as how my tiny front porch only has an unromantic view of the jailhouse.”

  He heard her softly closing the front door and crossing the porch. “That’s wonderful news,” she said. “From what I heard the last few days, I was afraid the wedding wasn’t going to take place after all.”

  Brandon felt Charity stiffen. The poor girl. She’d suffered so much humiliation she didn’t deserve, all because of him. He hoped he’d be able to make it up to her. “Yes, it’s happening. And we can hardly wait—but of course we are.”

  She cleared her throat. “Yes, of course you are.”

  Charity pulled on his arm. He let a few moments slip by so Lou would get the hint.

  “Well, I’ll be going on in. You sit out here as long as you like—anytime.”

  “Thank you,” Charity said softly, a bit of her fervor seeming to have evaporated.

  When the door closed softly, he pulled her close. “I’m sorry, honey. I know this hasn’t been easy for you. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

  “There’s nothing to make up. I’m just relieved you went and found out now, before the wedding. Maybe if it happened after our wedding, you would have always wondered what life would be like as a marshal. You never told me about Timberlake himself. What was the man like? Was he what you thought he’d be?”

  A moment passed as he gathered his thoughts. What would Charity think when she found out he’d never spoken with the man? Would her feelings change? Only one way to find out. “I never got that far.”

  “What?”

  “When I went to Timberlake’s office for the interview, he wasn’t there. His deputy told me that he hadn’t even mentioned my coming, and that he talked about hiring new deputies all the time. I’d all but made my decision to return the day I arrived, so when I heard that bit of news, I was happy to say my good-byes and head straight for the train depot. I couldn’t get home to Y Knot fast enough.”

  “I’m sorry, Brandon. You never even spoke with him?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t care about the past, honey. I regret the grief I’ve caused you.”

  She glanced down at their hands twined together. “Only two more weeks, and then I’ll be living with you in town, cooking your dinners and being with you every day.” Her gaze, now trained steadily on his own, spoke of love and commitment that would last a lifetime. “I can hardly wait.”

  “I know the feeling, darlin’. Two weeks can’t go fast enough to suit me.”

  • • •

  When Luke pulled the wagon to a halt in front of the house and saw Lucky’s horse still tied at the hitching rail, unease snaked up his spine. Before he even had a chance to circle around the back to assist Faith and the young’uns, the door opened and Lucky rushed out to meet him.

  “What is it, Lucky? Has something happened?”

  “From what I can figure out, that young buck that Francis had a tussle with returned and carted her off.”

  “What? Fox Dancing is gone?”

  Lucky nodded. “I’ve been waiting for you to get back for an hour. I showed up, just like you asked. The door was ajar and there looks like there was a struggle. Faith, one of your lanterns in the front room got busted,” he said, looking up at her. “And some other stuff. That young sister of yours put up quite the fight.”

  Luke ran into the house, knowing Lucky would help Faith with the children. He took the stairs two at a time. The bedroom was just as it was when they’d left earlier that evening. While he was out having pie and talking up a good time, Fox Dancing had been abducted by that Cheyenne brave. He wished he’d taken the time to find out more about him than the little bit Fox Dancing had shared with Charity. She’d seemed happy here and hadn’t shown any interest in following the brave. He was sure she’d been taken against her will. And as far as clues went, he had very little to go on.

  He returned to the front room to find Faith and the children, along with Lucky, taking in the scene. The carpet was askew and a chair toppled over. By the window, he squatted down to touch a small round spot.

  Blood.

  Whatever happened, one of them had been hurt.

  “Lucky, I’d like you to stay here with Faith. When I get to the main house I’ll send over Uncle Pete, and Pedro too.”

  Faith watched him intently. “What are you going to do?”

  “Not sure yet. Go alert the others for now. Get together a search party. Find Fox Dancing.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  With both hands wrapped around the cold, steely bars on her windows, Fox Dancing gazed out into the night, a burning pit of fear in her stomach almost making her retch. Her talisman was gone. Angry with herself, she pushed away her weakness. She was a warrior. She would get free, even if she had to kill someone to do it.

  When a man she’d never seen before had stepped into Luk’s dwelling as if he owned the place, suspicion blossomed. He’d told her to come, and when she refused, he’d tried to grasp her wrist. They’d wrestled, bumping into things, smashing a lamp. The foul-smelling man was large. And strong. She had no weapon. That was the last thing she remembered before waking up in this place. Her skin crawled when she realized he must have held her unconscious body while traveling.

  A sharp pain in her head made her wince. She reached up and fingered a lump on the side of her head. What happened now? Would Luk come looking for her?

  She left the rock wall with the window and crossed her enclosure. With a light touch, she felt around as high as she could, searching for a way out. She thought of her father and what he would do. Her grandfather’s face swam before her gritty eyes, making her heart clench, but she pushed away the emotion. Dim starlight from outside was her only lamp.

  A violent shiver took hold of her body and she clenched her jaw tightly, wishing for her buffalo robe back home in her tepee. Where was Painted Bear Stone? Had he witnessed her abduction or had he already left to travel back to the village without her?

  She felt naked without the amulet. She hadn’t removed it since her vision quest. Discouraged, cold, and nursing a growing anger, she sank down onto a ragged cot along the wall. Leaning forward, she cradled her head in her hands. She’d never seen a hanging, but she knew the whites were all too eager to rid themselves of Indians. Would her journey to find her brother prove to be her death?

  The sound of several men’s voices carried, followed by coarse laughter. Her breathing quickened, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before something very evil happened—she was sure of it. Would she be strong, or cry and beg for her life?

  At the familiar sharp cry of a hawk, she startled. She rushed to the window, a jolt of happiness propelling her feet. Blackness covered everything. Across the street, next to the wall of a building, she could make out Painted Bear Stone’s silhouette.

  • • •

  Just outside the front door of the main house, Brandon dipped his head for one last kiss. He traced his lips across Charity’s. After their discussion on Lou and Dritt’s front porch, he and Charity had gone back to the Biscuit Barrel, hand in hand. After a slice of pie of his own, he’d ridden home in the bu
ggy with Charity and her parents, his horse tied behind.

  Luke thundered into the yard. “Brandon,” he yelled before dismounting. “I’m glad you’re still here.”

  He turned, Charity at his side. “What’s going on?”

  “Something’s happened while we were in town. Looks like someone rode onto McCutcheon land and carted off Fox Dancing from my house. Furniture was upset and it looked like there’d been a struggle. She was gone when Lucky stopped over to check on her.”

  “Could it be the Indian brave who fought with Francis?” Charity asked, concern making her voice crack.

  “That’s exactly who I think it is,” Luke answered. “If there hadn’t been a struggle, I would have assumed she’d gone willingly, lonesome for her home. But not now.”

  Charity had told him how the brave showed up and fought with Francis. They wouldn’t find two lone Indians if that male didn’t want to be found. It would be like searching for a yellow petal in a field of daisies. Luke wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

  “You realize it’s highly unlikely we’ll be able to find them. Especially with the lead time they’ve had. He’ll take her and disappear into the land, where we won’t be able to follow.”

  Luke shot him a hard look. “I’m not giving up as easy at that. I’m going to at least try.”

  “I didn’t say I wasn’t going to try. Just didn’t want you to get your hopes up.”

  “And if it were Charity?”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  The front door opened and Claire came out, followed by Flood. “What’s going on?” Claire asked. Flood stood back.

  “Fox Dancing is missing,” Charity said, her lips still puffy from his kisses. “Let me help search as well, Brandon. I can track as good as any man.”

  “Not on your life,” he responded. “You stay here with your mother.” Flood had already gone back inside to get his hat and gun. “We’ll gather the hands in the bunkhouse and fan out on Luke’s land, looking for tracks. Until light, we may not spot much. If he wants to get lost, he’ll head for the hills, and so will we.”