by Linda Broday
“What’re we gonna do, Miss Glory?”
“Do you know where Captain Roberts is staying?”
“You bet. He’s at the boardinghouse in Santa Anna. The Ranger boards his horse at Pa’s stable.”
“If you’ll take me there, I won’t ask any more favors.”
“Shoot, I like being with you. Do you like me?”
“I think you’re pretty wonderful.”
Please let her stop this crazy scheme before she had to learn all over again how to go on without the charmer who’d taught her to love.
Twenty-seven
The pleasant aroma of pipe smoke swirled about Glory’s head in the small parlor of Mrs. Josephine Baker’s boardinghouse. The captain’s breathing came from behind. She surmised he stared out the window while he digested the information they’d brought. Horace sat quiet and unmoving beside her on the velvet settee. And even though she’d urged the boy to get home before his father became too furious, he insisted on staying.
Captain Roberts broke the silence. “All right, Miss Day. I have some things to set in place. We’ll capture this bunch once and for all.”
“And keep them from harming Luke,” she said bluntly.
“That first and foremost, my dear.” The man gripped her hands and softened his brusque tone. “I won’t let anything happen to him. You can rest easy. Now, can you get home? I’m afraid I can’t see to that.”
Horace cleared his throat. “I promised Mr. Luke I’d keep her safe. Uh…if it’s all the same to you.”
“You’re a brave woman, Miss Day. McClain is one lucky man.” He released his hold and addressed Horace.
“Boy, that goes for you too. You make a fine tracker. Any time you need a job, come see me. We always need new recruits.”
“You mean it, Mr. Captain?”
“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”
Glory sensed a bright beam radiating from the boy-man when he helped her on the mule. It didn’t dim during the ride to the farm. The thought of joining the Texas Rangers filled him with pride. She found it remarkable, especially when George Simon kept trying to knock the stuffing out of him. A light finally appeared at the end of Horace’s gloomy tunnel.
“You should have let me explain to your father. I don’t want him punishing you when it’s my fault.”
A full minute passed before he answered, “He’s asleep.”
“All the same, I have a duty.”
A change came over him when they arrived at the Day house. It came on silent wings and as swift as Miss Minnie’s pounce.
“You think I can bed in your barn for tonight?”
Plain and simple, Horace was scared.
“I’d be proud. You’ve earned more than that after what you gave me.”
“But I didn’t do anything.”
Though the hour had grown late, Hope came running. “Did you find Luke?”
“Yes, but I’m sorry we went.”
“Why? What happened?”
A thickness welled in her throat and the pungent taste of fear flooded her mouth.
“Oh, Hope, I’m afraid I might’ve killed him.”
* * *
It was strange how many things a body never grasped when relying on sight alone. Glory contemplated this wonder at the kitchen table, where she sat throughout the night, too nervous to sleep.
She discovered something she’d never known before—each sound created its own distinctive music, told its own tale. And only by becoming still and quiet inside could anyone hear these beautiful harmonies. It suddenly occurred to her she was seeing the reflection of the sky on that glassy lake Horace spoke about.
The sun was just waking from its slumber.
Hope, Patience, and Mama hadn’t stirred, but outdoors, the mockingbirds and squawking blue jays already busied themselves, rooting to find their breakfast.
Barn doors couldn’t muffle Bessie’s moos.
Water dripping from the pump at the sink spoke of needing a new washer. It had dried out and cracked waiting for the rain to fill the cistern again.
And her soul’s hushed whispers played the haunting refrain of a tune too agonizing to bear. What had she done? What if her unthinking, selfish act caused Luke’s death? She’d have to carry that to her grave.
A tremble shook her.
The chair protested when she rose and walked the dozen steps to the window. She gripped the rim of the wash counter.
Luke needed a miracle.
She wouldn’t even ask for his return to the farm.
His continuing to draw breath would suffice.
The door opened. The smell of honest sweat preceded the visitor.
“You’re up early, Horace.”
“Been hunting. Left a mess of quail by the porch and here’s the eggs from the barn.”
“My goodness, you’re going to spoil us, you know.” She heard him lay each egg carefully in a bowl.
“Just helping. Do you mind, Miss Glory?”
She didn’t have any say-so over the smile that came. Friends like him didn’t happen around every bend in the road. When they did, you shouldn’t refuse what they offered. Luke taught her that.
“Not one bit.”
“One day I’ll show you how to make animal traps. That way you can catch food for when I’m gone off to the Rangers.”
Out of the mouths of babes. Now, why hadn’t she thought of that? Traps instead of rifles. That would keep them fed.
“I’d appreciate that very much.” She filled the pot with water and guessed at the ground coffee. “Do you have time for breakfast?”
She collided with him in a sudden turn to the woodstove.
“I done stoked the fire. Here, let me show you.” The simple man took her hand. Heat from below rose. “Set the pot down real easy.”
“Yes, I feel it. I don’t know how I’ll manage without you.”
“You can do it.”
Footsteps told her when Hope entered the room. The middle Day sibling had a quiet, firm step, whereas Patience trudged along with the ease of a plow horse. “Good morning, sister.”
“My stars, you’ve already got coffee on. You should’ve awakened me. Morning, Horace.”
“Beautiful day, ain’t it, Miss Hope?”
“No need to rouse you. You deserve your rest.” Glory tucked her hair behind her ears and slid into her seat. “It was late when I sent you off to bed. How’s Mama?”
“Sleeping peacefully. She’s going to be all right.”
The lumbering stumble announced Patience. “I’d better gather the eggs.”
“Uh, I already did,” Horace said.
Patience whooped. “Yippee. Glory, can he come live with us?”
Horace spoke up quickly. “I can’t on account of I’m joining up with the Rangers.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Tell ’em, Miss Glory.”
“Captain Roberts asked him last night. I heard him.”
“Wow, I wish they’d take girls.”
Glory didn’t need eyes to see the dreamy expression on Squirt’s face.
“But they don’t.” Horace hastened to add, “If they did, though, I’m sure they’d ask you.” He made a scuffing noise on the floor with his feet. Glory recognized signs of duty over personal rathers. “I gotta be going. Pa’ll be up.”
“I’ll get the mule saddled so I can keep my promise.” The chair scraped the wood floor when she rose.
“No! I…I’ll tell him for you.”
The door slammed before she could reply.
“Oh dear. I hope he doesn’t get into trouble,” Hope murmured.
A pretty safe bet. Otherwise, the boy wouldn’t be so terrified. Fear and dread sat in her stomach like a wagonload of wet laundry—for Luke and Horace. Hell, she might as well lump all the rest
of them in there too.
* * *
A sharp jab brought Luke out of the bunk. Hair-trigger reflexes born from years of hunting down murderers, outlaws, and horse thieves had his six-shooter drawn and aimed before the person doing the poking could blink.
“Whoa there, Tex! Merely following orders.”
Flickering light from oil lamps allowed a good view of hands raised high and the fear of God in Lefty’s eyes.
Luke gave a noncommittal grunt and slowly holstered the weapon. “You have a death wish or something.”
The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Boss says we got a job to plan.”
Since Luke had watched Creede leave twice yesterday, the last time after everyone else went to sleep, the half-breed must carry orders back and forth from the leader. Foster, he’d bet. Nothing had happened to change his mind on that. Should the next few hours prove his hunch right, he could rid the county of this hornets’ nest.
And then he’d have a decision. Mexico or…?
Glory’s upturned face interrupted his train of thought. Only someone with tender feelings would’ve risked what she did. But even if that was the case, his surly treatment had surely sent her away for good.
“A job, huh? Any idea what?”
“Have to ask him.”
Luke collected his hat from the bunk and sauntered along the tunnel that barely accommodated his six-foot frame. Sure didn’t allow any type of headgear, unless they were dwarfs. He ducked through the shored-up opening that led into the taller main room. Creede’s gaze followed him when he entered.
“Lefty tells me we’re about to ride. That true?”
No answer came.
“Am I supposed to guess? Or read your mind?”
“You talk too much.” Creede crossed his arms.
Luke took a seat, picked up the cards, and shuffled. His growling stomach protested the meager pickings of late. The underground hideaway prevented cooking, not even a fire to boil coffee. The flue would send up a signal. They existed no better than rats.
The rest of the group straggled in a few minutes later. Creede drew the stage route on the planks and marked an X where they’d swoop down from the shadow of Bead Mountain.
“Anyone seen Frenchie this morning?” Cuny asked with a mouth full of jerky.
The half-breed’s dark stare burned a hole through Luke. He did his damnedest to ignore the hackles rising on his neck. “I’ll help look for him.”
“No.” The venomous explosion burst from Creede. Everyone swiveled to stare. “Me and Bill will go.”
Yep, the man had something stuck in his craw. Luke hoped he’d hidden Frenchie good enough and that the wily outlaw hadn’t managed to squirm loose. Dan would be waiting at the same place on Hord’s Creek, if he found a way to get there.
Give him a whole lot of luck…and a few hours, preferably in that order.
A sudden rattling of the trapdoor yanked him from wishful thinking. The men scurried with weapons drawn.
Luke didn’t budge from his perch. He had nothing to hide—unless…
“Where the hell that sumbitch go?”
Luke found breathing difficult.
Frenchie! In the flesh.
So much for the luck part he’d asked for. He’d just entered the music and dancing stage. Better get ready to do the hot-lead polka.
* * *
Around midmorning Glory sat in the parlor, keeping Mama company while Hope and Squirt did laundry outside. Listening for the slightest sound of horses prevented carrying on a decent conversation. Her nerves became more unsettled with each passing moment.
“You seem jumpy, dear.” Ruth moved to sit beside her. She smoothed back Glory’s hair with a tender touch. “Anything I can help with?” Glory didn’t have to consult a crystal ball to understand her mother delicately referred to the vision impairment. Bolstered by Hope and Patience, she’d finally told Ruth that morning. Surprisingly, the Day matriarch took the news well.
“I’m a bit on edge. Nothing to worry about.”
“You know, when I was a little girl, I used to fret myself sick. I would hide under the covers when it thundered until my father bribed me out with a piece of gingerbread or a promise to read me a story. Everything scared me to death.”
Glory had never heard Ruth speak of her childhood. “And Uncle Pete? Did he share such fears?”
“My brother would stand in the middle of a lightning storm and dare it to strike him. He didn’t have a brain in his head, not even then.” Ruth’s refined lilt swirled around the sitting room like rich, thick chocolate. “Pete promised Father he’d always take care of me.”
And her uncle had kept his word. Even to the point of almost killing his sister. The still water reflected the picture. Especially her mother’s mental decline after Papa went away.
Endless waiting and heartache had a way of eating every ounce of strength and purpose a body possessed from the inside out. Ruth had tried the best she knew to get through each day, however she could. Shame washed over Glory for the ill will she’d harbored.
The front screen door banged loudly. The unexpected noise lifted her a foot off the settee.
“Mama! Glory! We have visitors.”
Dare she believe? Her heart beat wildly.
“Don’t yell, Patience Ann. We’re not deaf,” Mama admonished her. “Who would come calling? I wonder.”
“I can’t tell yet. Some man and woman in a wagon though.”
A buoyant flush that had risen faded as quickly as it came.
“Get away from that window! My heavens, we don’t want them to think we’re a bunch of heathens.”
The scolding indicated Mama was well on the mend. The firm hand had been absent longer than Glory cared to remember. Ruth rose, straightening and plumping the cushions to receive visitors.
“I don’t know how we can see who it is if we don’t look out.”
“Quit grumbling, dear. We’ll know after they knock.”
Damnation! The suspense was killing Glory. She got to her feet. If only she could see. Were that possible, she’d not sit around twiddling her thumbs, she’d be in the thick of things.
The whinny of horses, two by the sound, drifted through the open door. Voices accompanied them.
Not Captain Roberts. He’d ride horseback.
Unless he needed a way to haul someone injured…
…or dead.
Dear God!
At last the rap came. Mama’s worn kid boots thudded against the hardwood. Another set of footsteps trailed, giving away Squirt’s location. No helping the girl’s nosiness.
“Good morning. Can I help you?” Glory didn’t have to strain to listen. Something about the deep baritone had a familiar ring to it. Not Luke, but?
“I’m not sure. Are you Mrs. Day?”
“You have the right place. Please come in.”
Flustered by sudden visitors, Glory didn’t know whether to sit, stand, or hide in her room. Mystery and a sense of optimism swept over her. Whoever they were, they brought promise.
“Folks in town said my brother stays with you some.”
Luke’s brother? Could this be true? The man had the same commanding presence that filled every corner of the house.
“The only one who fits that description would be Luke McClain.” Ruth ushered them into the parlor. “Care to sit?”
“Thank you, ma’am. I’m Duel McClain and this is my wife, Jessie. The children are Marley Rose, Lily, and baby Ethan.”
Luke’s family had come.
Excitement left Glory faint. Duel would help and surely no one stood a chance against two McClain men. Not even the devil himself. Or one Vince Foster.
“We’re delighted to meet you. Mr. McClain spoke fondly of his family. My daughters and I owe your brother more than we can ever possibly repay.”
“My goodness, I completely forgot my manners! These are my oldest and youngest daughters, Glory and Patience. Hope, the middle child, is doing the wash.”
A heightened sense led Glory. She moved carefully but with deliberate steps toward the voices, her hand outstretched.
Patience whispered loudly in the vicinity of Glory’s ear, “The man is in Papa’s chair and the woman is on the settee.”
“Thank you.” How humiliating.
Then the girl announced to their guests, “My sister can’t see anymore on account of she’s blind. Mr. Luke asked her to marry him though. Even after she shot him. And that was when she still had good eyesight. She said she wasn’t aiming to. I think it truly was an accident. It didn’t even make him mad. He’s awful nice.”
Hell’s bells! Give her something to stick into that big mouth! Heat flooded her face. She forced a smile and the brittle laugh.
“I do declare, Squirt. They didn’t ask for our life history.” She found her hand engulfed in Duel’s. His firm grip unlocked the emotional dam she’d built. “You don’t know how relieved I am you came. Your brother is in terrible danger.”
Twenty-eight
Old-timers in the law business teach never to underestimate an opponent. Luke wished he hadn’t skipped that lesson. He took a deep breath and crawled from beneath the table.
Frenchie had blood in his eye and murder in mind, no two ways about it.
And his sorry hulk blocked the way to daylight.
“I swear to my time. Where the hell you been?” Luke poured his heart and soul into the playacting. He hoped it worked. “You had us worried sick. We wanted—”
“Why, you lying…” Frenchie’s leap sent them both to the floor. The table turned on end with a crash.
Before the rest pulled them apart, Luke managed to add a few improvements to Frenchie’s ugly face. Didn’t matter he took some licks as well. The price of satisfaction.
Creede stepped between the pair and grabbed hold of Luke’s clothes. “Frenchie, did Kidd waylay you out there?”
“Whoever hit me snuck up from behind. Never saw the skunk. But that’s splitting hairs. I did run into him before I saw stars.”
