The Desires of Her Heart

by Lyn Cote

  His jaw working, Kilbride looked to Dorritt. She cleared her throat. “One hundred and twenty dollars.”

  Reva gave a little gasp and then pressed her hand to her mouth. Around Quinn, the vaqueros and soldiers shifted on their feet, continuing to point their guns at Kilbride.

  Still aiming his pistol at Kilbride, Ash grinned at Reva. “Don’t worry, honey. You’re worth that and plenty more.” Ash slowly lowered his pistol, shoved it in his belt, and lifted a pouch that hung there. Quinn heard the clink and rattle of coins as Ash loosed the drawstring of the pouch and searched through his coins.

  Then Ash counted out several gold coins into Reva’s hand. And then from a pouch hanging around his neck and under his shirt, he pulled out a wad of U.S. and Spanish currency. Then he took all the money and stepped forward to count it out. When Kilbride made no attempt to take the money, Ash dropped it into the locked box.

  “I’ll take that indenture paper now.” Ash held his hand out. As if in a trance, Kilbride gave Ash the paper. “First,” Ash said, “I need you to sign that and add a note saying that I have redeemed Reva on this date.” Kilbride just stared at him dumbly.

  Quinn gripped his long rifle tighter. Would Ash be able to pull it off? Or would Kilbride break and do something dangerous and foolish?

  Again, Dorritt knelt beside the fire, reached into the lockbox, and drew out a small bottle of black ink and a quill. With concern, Quinn noted her hands trembled as she trimmed the quill point and opened the bottle of ink and dipped the quill. She handed the pen to her stepfather, and Ash laid the paper in his palm.

  “That won’t work,” Dorritt said, and she lifted the metal box, shut the lid, and held it underneath the paper as a writing table. Kilbride paused. But then he scribbled on the page.

  Ash looked down and nodded with satisfaction. Then the Mexican captain approached the fire and spoke to Ash. Ash nodded and motioned Dorritt to offer the lockbox, paper, pen and ink to the captain. “The captain thinks he should sign it too to make it official,” Ash explained.

  After the captain wrote his signature, Ash blew on the wet ink as Dorritt took the pen back and put away the writing implements. Ash folded the indenture paper and tucked it into the pouch, hanging around this neck. “Well, now that concludes our business.” Ash turned to Reva and held out his hand. “Come along, wife.”

  Reva hesitated, casting a glance at Dorritt.

  Dorritt noticed this and pulled herself together. She couldn’t spoil Reva’s first moments of freedom—even if her own heart was breaking. “Go ahead, Reva.” Each word plunged like a knife into Dorritt’s heart. She drew breath with difficulty, shivering with it. “I wish you and your husband every happiness.”

  Reva ran to Dorritt, throwing her arms around Dorritt’s shoulders. “I don’t want to leave you,” Reva whispered.

  “Go.” Dorritt struggled with the physical pain of wrenching loss. “Go and be glad. I am.”

  Reva turned away then and went to Ash, tears trailing down her cheeks. Ash put his arm around her shoulder and drew her away, through the surrounding Mexican soldiers. “We’ll be going off aways to talk in private,” Ash said, pulling politely at the brim of his hat. “I have a lot to tell my bride.”

  Dorritt could not move. She knew she should get away from Mr. Kilbride before he came out of his trance. But she was entranced too, frozen in despair. Reva was free and Dorritt was glad. But I’m still in bondage.

  She looked across at Quinn. What had Ash said before? That Quinn needed to see he could be someone? She almost wished it was Quinn declaring her his wife and taking her away with him. And she’d never thought that about any man before.

  But now Quinn, who still appeared startled, did not look as if he were going to take any action tonight. Though she could not feel her feet, Dorrit walked to the wagon and stowed the lockbox. And then started to wander away. She had to be alone now. Her movement appeared to release the others. Every slave quickly disappeared into the twilight shadows before Mr. Kilbride could light on a scapegoat to vent his wrath upon.

  Feeling detached, Dorritt put one foot in front of the other, her arms dangling. Mr. Quinn can’t see his way to freedom. What had he said? He needed to see evidence that God was on this trek. Well, hadn’t they just witnessed a miracle? But she’d always thought that miracles made a person happy. I must not begrudge Reva. I am happy for her. It’s just the shock.

  But her stepfather’s sharp low voice halted her. “Not so fast, young lady.”

  Dorritt froze where she stood. She had not realized he’d followed her.

  Taking her shoulders in his hands, he swung her around to face him. “Don’t think I haven’t been watching you, Little Miss Know-It-All. You stay away from that half-breed.”

  She pressed her lips together. So here was her stepfather’s revenge. But he couldn’t know Quinn and she had shared a kiss the night before. He couldn’t know what she felt for Quinn. Because I don’t know—exactly.

  Then Mr. Kilbride tightened his grip on her shoulders making her flinch. “You will not disgrace your family any more than you already have. We are going to be highly regarded in Texas. And if you do anything that interferes with that, I’ll disown you no matter what your mother says. We’ll cast you out into the streets.”

  “Take your hands off Miss Dorritt,” Quinn said, looming up out of the darkness.

  Dorritt gasped, suddenly fearful. Her stepfather’s eyes looked wild, as if he had been pushed beyond endurance. She didn’t want to witness physical violence.

  Kilbride released her and swung around to face Quinn. “And you keep away from her. My stepdaughter is not for the likes of you.”

  Dorritt struggled to hold back her angry words. The disparity between the two men was so clear in her mind. An honest, good man, Quinn. A dishonest, foolish man, Mr. Kilbride.

  “I know that,” Quinn said. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t stop you from hurting her.”

  “I wasn’t hurting her. I was just reminding her of her duty to her family.”

  Quinn challenged him, “It seems to me that she knows her duty to her family. Do you?”

  Her mother’s voice interrupted, calling, “Mr. Kilbride! Isn’t it time we turned in for the night?” Kilbride glared at Quinn, then turned and marched away.

  Quinn and Dorritt were left facing each other. She found she couldn’t speak. She waited to see what he would say to her. He said nothing. When she could bear the silence no longer, she murmured, “Good night, Mr. Quinn.” She wished he would stop her. And hold her in his arms again. All things were possible with God, but only if one believed it. She wandered to the edge of the encampment and headed out farther, wishing to be as far away from everyone as possible. Oddly disjointed, numb as though she had been beaten but not yet feeling the pain from it. She tried to put it all together—God, Reva, Ash, and Quinn.

  Quinn watched Dorritt stagger away, looking like a flower wilting in the hot sun. He started to follow her and then stopped himself. I can’t do anything for her. And if I try, I could end up just harming her more. Kilbride had just proved Quinn’s attraction to Dorritt had not gone unnoticed. And Quinn wouldn’t make Kilbride go through with his threat of disowning Dorritt. A woman alone on the frontier couldn’t make it. Dorritt needed her family such as it was.

  The Andersons from a distance had also missed nothing of tonight’s show and Quinn wouldn’t go to Dorritt, wouldn’t give them or Jewell gossip to use against her. He moved away, thinking about how lucky Ash was to have rescued Reva. But only Reva’s being a slave had stood between them, and money had taken care of that. No amount of money would ever be able to break the barrier between Dorritt and himself. How could he ever give her the elegant life she deserved? Quinn walked the length of the wagon train to the campfire at the rear and eased down, sitting cross-legged.

  Carrying two cups of coffee, Eduardo wandered up and sank down beside Quinn. Eduardo handed him one cup of coffee and began to sip his own. “Your friend knows how to
get what he wants.”

  Quinn nodded and took a swallow of the hot bitter brew. He hoped Eduardo didn’t expect conversation. But for once, the man didn’t. They drank their coffee in silence; Quinn stared at the flames, which looked unusually bright all of a sudden. His eyes were tired. He blinked.

  “You seem very sleepy,” Eduardo said, taking the empty cup from Quinn’s hand. “Why don’t you just lie down for a short siesta? I’ll wake you when it is dark and your turn for watch.”

  Quinn could barely nod. He found himself sliding down onto the coarse grass. His eyes shut. What’s happening…?

  Unable to face anyone, Dorritt waited for the camp to go to sleep. She sat on the earth and fanned away the few mosquitoes. Images from the recent drama kept flashing before her eyes. She kept seeing Reva walking away from her. I’ve lost Reva. The sounds of the large encampment behind her took a long time to fade into slumber and quiet. Still, she made no move to go to the wagon. There was no comfort to help with this loss. Not even tears or prayers would come.

  Then out of the darkness, Eduardo approached her. “Señorita Dorritt, Quinn has asked me to come and get you.” He offered her a hand and helped her up. She walked beside him, wondering what Quinn would have to say to her, barely aware of walking. Perhaps Quinn would tell her where Ash had taken Reva. She and Eduardo had gone quite a distance when it dawned on Dorritt that they had walked away—not toward the encampment. She was far from the others now. She halted. “Where is Quinn?”

  Before she had time to cry out, Eduardo caught her in a tight embrace with his hand clamped over her mouth. “I regret this indignity, señorita. But this is for your own good. Carlos would not want me to wait any longer. Who knows what your stepfather might do to you after Ash has taken your maid? I must protect you.” The sardonic tone he used belied his words and her fear leaped up like flames. She tried to break free and could not. Through tightly shut lips, she screamed into his hand—without making a sound. Fear made her dizzy. She struggled. Eduardo held her with ease, his grip like a tightened noose.

  And then Juan was there, tying a tight gag in her mouth while Eduardo tied her hands in front of her. Then he led her away by her bound hands quickly, so quickly that she could not stop or refuse without falling on her face. Stumbling after him, she tried to question him around her gag, but could not.

  “Do not fear. This is all for your good,” Eduardo murmured, still with that ironic twist.

  My good? What will they do with me? Help me, Father.

  Then Eduardo asked. “And Quinn?”

  “Sí,” Juan said.

  What did that mean? Tears wet her gag. What had they done to Quinn? What was going to happen to her?

  Eduardo murmured. “Don’t cry. I’ll take good care of you.” And then he chuckled.

  Fourteen

  Late the next morning to the distant sound of orders given in Spanish, Ash with Reva at his side sauntered into camp. Mrs. Kilbride crept out of the wagon and looked around. Ash steered his bride away. They’d come to camp to claim her few possessions. As they passed Kilbride’s lady, Amos came to her. “Mistress, I can’t find Miss Dorritt.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I been up and down the line and I can’t find Miss Dorritt. The cook sent me to look for her because she didn’t come out of her wagon…for breakfast.” Amos rotated his hat in his hand. “I went to the wagon but she gone. I can’t find her, mistress.”

  Ash halted. Miss Dorritt gone?

  Mrs. Kilbride looked around the camp and so did Ash. The ox driver Josiah, the man Mr. Kilbride had last night tried to make marry Reva, came up behind Amos. “Mistress, two of the vaqueros are gone. And Mr. Quinn too.”

  Quinn too? Ash changed directions and moved toward Amos and Josiah.

  “What?” Mr. Kilbride barked from behind his wife. He climbed forward out the back of the wagon.

  Both Amos and Josiah jumped backward to keep out of his reach. “Master,” Amos said, keeping his eyes on the ground, “I can’t find Miss Dorritt.”

  “And two of the vaqueros and Mr. Quinn are gone, sir,” Josiah repeated.

  “Look harder,” Kilbride barked. The two servants nodded and left him, moving quickly.

  Reva’s eyes widened and Ash took her to Mrs. Kilbride. “What has happened to Miss Dorritt?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Mrs. Kilbride replied. “Reva, please go get Miss Jewell and bring her here. She might know where her sister is.”

  Reva bobbed her head and took off. Ash eyed Kilbride and then squatted down by the fire, accepting a cup of coffee from the cook.

  Very soon, Miss Jewell appeared with Reva. “What’s this about Dorritt disappearing?” Jewell snapped.

  “We can’t find your sister,” Mrs. Kilbride said. “Or Mr. Quinn and two of the vaqueros. Have you or any of the Andersons seen them?”

  Jewell laughed.

  “Jewell. This is no laughing matter.” Mrs. Kilbride sounded shocked.

  Jewell changed expressions, looking suddenly dour. “I’m sorry, mother. I didn’t want to say this. But I saw my sister and the half-breed scout kissing the other night. Evidently she has run off with him.”

  Mrs. Kilbride pressed both hands to her open mouth. “No, I don’t believe it.”

  Ash didn’t either. Quinn would never leave without finding Ash—even on his wedding night—to tell him what was going on. Something wrong had happened here. A sick feeling erupted in Ash’s empty stomach.

  “I’m so sorry to hurt you, Mother.” Jewell tried to look contrite, but failed. “But I saw what I saw. And now she’s gone and he’s gone. Doesn’t that prove I’m right?” Mrs. Kilbride began to weep.

  Frowning, Reva moved to stand next to her husband. Ash rose and put an arm around her shoulder. He whispered to her, “Quinn would never leave without telling me.”

  Reva looked up at him and nodded in agreement. “Miss Dorritt neither.”

  Juan approached them and swept off his large hat. “Señor and señora, I stay,” he recited in a singsong voice. “Pedro and Eduardo go. I herd cattle. At San Antonio, I leave. I take pay to Carlos and Eduardo.”

  “Why did the two Mexicans leave?” Kilbride asked.

  Juan shrugged. And repeated what he already said. Then he said, “No hablo inglés.” He bowed his head and turned to walk away.

  This sounded fishy to Ash. Had the two Mexicans made away with both Quinn and Dorritt? But how?

  Jumping down, Kilbride reached out and grabbed Juan’s shoulder. “Where did the other two vaqueros go?”

  Juan shrugged again and pulled away. “No hablo inglés.”

  “Do you know where my daughter or Mr. Quinn has gone?” Mrs. Kilbride called after him.

  “No hablo inglés.”

  At a silent appeal from Reva, Ash stopped Juan and put the questions to him in Spanish. But Juan couldn’t or wouldn’t tell him more. All he said was Pedro and Eduardo had gone ahead on business. Juan was to finish the herding job, collect their pay, and join them in San Antonio. Ash wasn’t satisfied but couldn’t think how to get the truth from Juan—if Juan knew the truth.

  The Mexican officer approached them. “¡Vamanos! ¡Adelante!” He motioned with both hands in a forward sweep. He repeated the two words again. And then he clapped his hands. The meaning came clear. It was time to set forth.

  Ash stood, gazing around, trying to get some idea of what had happened last night after he took his bride far from camp. Someone had taken advantage of his being distracted. But who?

  Both Kilbrides tried to go after the Spanish captain to change his mind. “We can’t leave. My daughter is missing,” Mrs. Kilbride pleaded.

  When the officer shook his head, she called out to Ash and waved him to come to them. “Mr. Ash, please won’t you tell him our daughter is missing? We can’t just leave her.”

  “¡Captain! ¡Por favor!” Ash explained the situation rapidly to the officer but the captain gave him a curt denial.

  Mrs. Kilbride raised
her voice as if it would make her words understandable to the Mexican, saying, “My daughter, Miss Dorritt, is missing.”

  “No importa,” the Mexican officer who looked nettled replied. “¡Vamos!”

  “We can’t just leave without her.” Mrs. Kilbride’s voice held an edge of hysteria.

  Ash then turned to Mrs. Kilbride. “I’m sorry, ma’am. He won’t change his mind. I think he’s angry that the four of them got away without any of his men noticing. He’s not going to go look for them.”

  “But—” Mrs. Kilbride started.

  “¡No importa!”

  Mrs. Kilbride tried once more, “Mr. Ash, please ask him—”

  The officer slipped his musket from his shoulder and aimed it at Mrs. Kilbride. “¡Vamos! ¡Vengan!”

  The two Kilbrides looked at each other, both bewildered. But what choice did they have?

  Worried, Ash led Reva away to the wagon where Dorritt had slept. She climbed inside and lifted out the small cloth bag that contained her possessions: a change of clothing, a comb, and a few handkerchiefs. When she was standing beside her husband again, she asked, “How’re we going to find Miss Dorritt?”

  “I guess I better do some tracking.” The camp around them was alive with running and shouting as the wagon train got moving once again. “I must go and gather up our cattle and mustangs. Then we’ll wait until this bunch leaves. I’ve got to take time to find Quinn’s or the Mexicans’ trail.”

  “Miss Dorritt would never go off with Quinn without telling me first. She wouldn’t,” Reva repeated.

  Ash nodded. “I don’t need convincing.” He saw she was very worried. “You and Miss Dorritt are close, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, she’s not like any other white person I know. I mean when we’re with other people, she treats me like a slave. But when we are alone, we’re just friends. We been together since we we’re babies. She’s special, my Miss Dorritt. I can’t be happy, Ash, if something bad happen to her.”

  Ash tucked his free hand around his wife’s waist and squeezed her to him. He knew how she felt. The thought of losing Quinn caused an ache deep in him.