Wildflower

by Raine Cantrell

  “I need to ride up to the ridge and see if the wild herd is back,” she announced without looking at him.

  “You ever think of anything besides those damn horses?”

  Warning herself not to goad him, she answered calmly. “Sure. But I owe Hadly two mares for feed.”

  “Gage ain’t gonna let you ride out alone, Jenny.”

  “Why?” she snapped, forgetting her vow. “I won’t leave as long as you keep Robby here. Don’t you dare smile at me like that! I’m not something for you to mock.”

  “You threatening me again?”

  Some tiny internal voice warned her to silence. And this time she paid heed. Goading him served nothing. The need to get away from him made her close her eyes, willing away the rage churning inside. It was minutes before she could breathe evenly. She opened her eyes.

  “That’s better. Too bad Gage interrupted last night. I guess our talk wasn’t enough of a lesson for you,” he muttered, staring at her.

  Jenny knew it had been more than enough, but all she answered was, “We need supplies. What little I left here won’t be enough if they stay long.”

  “Like me to say they won’t be here long?”

  She hated his mockery. But if Jonas thought she was beaten and cowed, he would be unmerciful. “Would you dare ask them to go? Could you be man enough to do that, Jonas?”

  “I don’t need to prove I’m a man. ‘Less’n you need…” Boots scraped outside, claiming his attention. The door opened and he called out, “Robby, go down to Ben’s and get Gage for me.” His gaze lazily swung to Jenny. “Tell him your daddy wants to talk to him.”

  Robby said nothing, closing the door, but Jenny had seen his confused look and hurt for him. She couldn’t cope with more pain, yet she warned Jonas again not to hurt him. She was unprepared for the strength of his hand snaking out to grab her wrist, dragging her beside him, eyes glittering while she fought his hold.

  “Forget the damn horses, Jenny. Forget Robby.”

  She gritted her teeth, fighting not to cry. Shoving at him, wedged between his body and the table, her knee came up fast. But his leg was swifter as he pinned her thigh to the table’s edge. The amused glitter of his eyes made her stop fighting.

  “You’re still a half-breed bitch!”

  From the doorway, Gage’s voice, slightly drawling, inquired, “This what you wanted an audience for, Jonas? Or did you need help?”

  Jonas looked at her rigid body, then grinned, released her, and stepped back.

  Praying Robby didn’t see, Jenny shot off the table, stumbling, backing away until she stood panting between them. Panic made her speak quickly. “I wanted to ride out and check on the wild horses. He—Jonas—said you…”

  “That ain’t easy work for a woman,” Gage cut in, looking at her.

  “Hell, Gage, you don’t know Jenny. She’s been doin’ that since she’s Robby’s age. Helped her daddy,” he mocked. “It’s one thing I’ll admit she’s good at.”

  “That so?”

  “Yes,” Jenny answered, desperate now. “It’s how Robby and I survived. The money—”

  “Must be good,” Gage finished for her. “But then, we’ll have all the money that’s needed soon.” He sauntered inside, looking around. It was the first time he’d come to the cabin. “Ain’t all that much, Jonas,” Gage noted in his soft, emotionless voice.

  “It does for what needs doing.” Jonas hesitated, then asked, “You letting her go?”

  “Don’t see why she can’t go. But the boy stays here. You could ride with her.”

  “No! I won’t be gone long. If you let him…” she stopped, unable to convey her need to be alone.

  Slowly, he looked from her to Jonas. “Yeah, I see. All right. You got until sunset to get back. I’d send Grogan with you, but he found a cache of whiskey and Prado—”

  “Not him!”

  He ignored her. “Prado went to Folsom.”

  “You did send him to kill Sarah!” Jenny’s accusation brought her what she didn’t want: his complete attention. And she found that Gage did know how to smile. It chilled her bones to the marrow.

  His eyes were hard, cruel, and pitiless. “He’s doing what needs to be done. No one cheats me and lives.”

  Jenny didn’t wait to hear more; she ran for the door. Her moves, always so gentle with her mare, were rough and clumsy. She couldn’t get away fast enough. Mounting, looking for Robby, she felt despair that he wasn’t around. Urging her sorrel down the trail, she checked the creek near his favorite spot. It was empty. She had thought to grab Robby and run. Her shoulders sagged and she stared blankly at the creek. Where was Robby? If she began searching for him, they might see her. She couldn’t call out for the same fear. Refusing to return to the cabin, she rode up the bank heading for the mountain.

  A fluttering breeze set the leaves of the aspens moving. Jenny sighed. She rode her mare on the sun-drenched ground, shadows growing beneath towering ponderosa pines. Short, spiky needles brushed her back as she ducked to pass beneath the spread of their pungent limbs. The trees thinned as she climbed higher, the air cooling. Her gaze was fixed on the rim of the mountains ahead as she urged the sorrel around another stand of pines. Thinking of summer when wildflowers, gold and deep scarlet, dotted the full slopes, and ripened berries would bring Robby running to pick them, she lost herself in memory. Her mare nickered, startling her.

  And Gage pulled out on his walleyed paint from the stand of trees in front of her. “Couldn’t chance you riding out alone after all and I was the only choice left.” He took note of her fear, but she sat still, easily controlling the restive move of her mare. “Lead on, lady.”

  Jenny did. Once more she wasn’t offered a choice. She watched the trail ahead for the turn­off to the ridge above them, fear riding with her. Had Jonas sent him? She could feel the prowl of his eyes restlessly touching her. Did Jonas know he had followed her? Would it matter? Did men like these have any loyalty between them? She asked the questions of herself, but wasn’t sure she wanted any answers. Keep your wits about you, she warned herself. This man is like none you’ve known.

  “This ain’t no life for a woman,” Gage said from behind her. “Get him to take you out of here.”

  It wasn’t a suggestion; it was an order. Jenny resented it. “What makes you think I’d go away with him?”

  “You’re married,” he returned without hesitation.

  “He only remembers that when he wants, not that it matters.”

  “Pretty quiet country up here,” he noted.

  Agreeing woodenly, she congratulated herself at hiding her surprise that he would notice, much less remark about it. She had no intention of talking to him, but found herself saying, “I wouldn’t leave it. And Jonas has never asked me to.”

  “It true you shot to kill him?”

  “Damn right,” she snapped, afraid now of where his questions would lead.

  And in that same emotionless voice he spoke again. “Never knew a woman to do that. Guess for a woman like you, there’d be strong reason.”

  The trail opened and Jenny didn’t answer him, but instead spurred her mare into a canter. Gage rode alongside her. And Jenny was suddenly tired of his game.

  With an abrupt yank on the reins she stopped, patting the sorrel’s neck to soothe her, easing her grip on the leather so the mare pranced in place, then stilled. Gage rode back toward her, halting, facing her. He didn’t ask why she stopped; he sat and merely stared. It unnerved her. “Why did you come? And why the questions?” she blurted out.

  “How well do you know Charmas Kilkenny?” he asked, lowering his hat brim.

  His soft-voiced question caught her off guard. Panic flared as she met his steady gaze. Without a move, a sound, nothing but instinct, she knew when he had his answer and said as much.

  “Figured it was like that.”

  How dare he probe her thoughts and what she had hidden. Or had she hidden anything? Charmas
was nothing. A stranger who crossed her path for a few weeks. There was no dreaming of what might have been; Jonas was back, she harshly reminded herself. She couldn’t forget it. But in her next breath, she dared to ask him about Charmas Kilkenny. “And you, Gage, how well do you know him?” He glanced away, blocking her forward move with his horse before he backed away and motioned her ahead.

  “Always liked the scent of pine,” Gage remarked after a while. “And Charmas Kilkenny taught me all I know.”

  The reins slipped from her fingers and the sorrel, obedient to being ground-tied, stopped. Jenny swayed in the saddle, closing her eyes. His voice was so damn soft, the words sparse. They caused intense pain, confirming that Char­mas was more than one of them. Feeling his hand tucking the reins back into her own, she couldn’t look at him.

  “How much farther are we riding, Jenny Latham? Or did you just change your mind?”

  She couldn’t answer him and once more led them at a walk.

  “Jonas is gonna kill him.”

  “Warning me, Gage? What makes you sure he’ll come back here?”

  “Charmas never liked leaving loose ends. He’ll come back, all right.”

  She thought her control would snap, but she spoke calmly and held herself steady, ignoring each rippling shock. “You don’t sound worried.”

  Gage, smiling at her rigid back, asked, “You think I should be afraid of him?”

  ‘Truth is, I don’t want to think about any of it.” She forced herself to ride on. “Is it because of Mave?” she probed, needing to know.

  “Some. He was making a name for himself when she died. It didn’t need to happen,” he noted softly. “I wasn’t there and Prado was. Charmas was going to marry her.”

  She jerked the reins, stopping and dismounting before he could stop her. Pretense was gone. She wanted answers. “Why are you telling me all this? Do you need power over a man like Prado?”

  He seemed amused that she dared him. “You think Prado killed her?”

  “Charmas couldn’t. I know that, no matter what else you tell me.” Glaring at him, she watched him dismount. He pushed his hat back with a glance around before he faced her and smiled.

  “You don’t ask ‘bout Jonas. Why? What makes a woman like you hate a man enough to want to kill him?”

  “Why do you want to know?” she countered.

  His slender fingers rested lightly above his gunbelt slung on narrow hips. “I figure folks real easy, Jenny Latham.” He grinned. “But not you, and that bothers me some. You’d kill Jonas if you had the chance. I can understand revenge, even hate. What I can’t figure, lady, is why you’d protect Charmas. I know him. I think like him. Charmas never cared about anyone but himself. He taught me that, too.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “I don’t know what to do about you.”

  “Why?” she asked dully, feeling more was said than she could comprehend. “Why does it matter what a lonely, foolish woman thinks or feels about Charmas?”

  “Are you that? And what will you do when he comes?”

  The almost amused drawl of his voice made her look at him. What was he asking her with those feral eyes? She could sense he was asking himself questions about her. His eyes suddenly narrowed.

  “Jonas said you’re a breed. That true?”

  She swallowed, barely able to nod.

  “Jonas is dirt. He has his use, but he’s dirt.”

  The deadly cold malice of his tone made her agree with him. But where was this leading? Realizing how alone they were, she wondered if she’d see her son again.

  “Charmas’ll kill him,” Gage said. Hope flared in her eyes, dying as fast. “Then I’ll need to kill Charmas.” His gaze shifted within the small clearing. Silence reigned, but the careful habits Charmas had instilled in Gage never left. Charmas had survived. He would, too.

  “Charmas,” Gage began, “made his ranch into a safe place. You know what that is?” She shook her head. “I didn’t think so. He hid anyone that needed a place to stay, for a price. A damn high price. But Charmas had a reputation and few men dared to cross him. Those that chanced it didn’t live to talk about it. He tried crossing me; I don’t let anyone live that does it either.”

  “More of what Charmas taught you,” she prodded.

  Gage smiled. “You got guts, lady. Yeah, a little more of what he taught me. He hid money from an army payroll robbery for us. When Prado and Saul got careless with Mave, Charmas figured it was his compensation.”

  She had to force herself to listen and found she wanted to know more.

  “You didn’t agree?” she asked. His eyes, half­closed, swung to her. It was answer enough. “That’s why you were hunting him? But why was Charmas coming here? Did you know my son and I accidentally shot him?” When he didn’t answer, she figured it out for herself. “Jonas had already set up a meeting here, hadn’t he? Charmas rode here to meet all of you and settle this. It wasn’t an accident that brought him to these mountains. Someone bushwhacked him on his way. And Sarah? Who is she?”

  “A woman.” He paused. “She was with Jonas.”

  Jenny had surmised that much, so it didn’t hurt, not the way he seemed to think it would.

  “I still want to ride to the canyon, Gage.”

  “I haven’t stopped you.”

  “No, you haven’t stopped me,” she snapped. “But then, the choice hasn’t come yet, has it? And when it does,” she rushed on before she lost courage, “you’ll make your choice about me.”

  His laugh was soft but chilling. “And what makes you sure I haven’t already made it, Jenny Latham?”

  Had he really made a choice between her living or dying? What had Jonas done to her and Robby by bringing these men here? Shivering uncontrollably, she turned her back to him. At the touch of his hand, a cry tore from her lips. She hadn’t known how badly she was shaking till he somewhat reluctantly pulled her against him. His breathing and heartbeats were even, and she forced herself to accept the heat and steady calmness that seemed so much a part of him.

  “It’s best we ride back,” he said.

  Jenny pushed open her cabin door, found the fire had gone out, and rubbed her arms against the chill.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Jonas demanded.

  Spinning around, she found him advancing on her with a murderous fury lighting his eyes.

  She stood tall. “Where is Robby?”

  “Around. He ain’t been here. I asked where you’ve been,” he spat out from between gritted teeth. “Why was Gage with you?”

  She laughed nervously. His stinging slap silenced her. Jenny shoved past him.

  “I asked you a question, damn it! Answer me!”

  “Why don’t you ask Gage? Or can’t you? No, you couldn’t, Jonas. He runs things, doesn’t he? And you’re afraid of Gage. You’re scared to buck him.” Facing her husband, she saw Gage standing in the doorway. Her hand covered her flaming cheek. She knew he had seen the redness, but he said nothing.

  Gage spoke only to Jonas. “Prado came back.”

  “I know, Gage,” Jonas returned sullenly.

  “He didn’t find Sarah.”

  Jenny breathed a prayer of thanks.

  “Charmas has her,” Gage informed them. “His buckskin was spotted in town and now she’s gone.” He smiled. “I want him.”

  “I’ll leave now,” Jonas said.

  Without another word, Gage left. Jenny went after Jonas, but the murderous rage in his eyes held her silent.

  “This ain’t over, Jenny. Just stay the hell away from him.”

  Long after the cooling shadows of dusk came, Jenny roused herself. The cabin was cold and she stared down at the ashes, uncertain what to do. No, she was lying to herself. She knew what she had to do. All she needed was courage. And finding Robby was the first step.

  Finally she found him. He’d hidden himself in the bam loft and denied her every effort to talk. It was hours before sh
e could get Robby to sleep. Too weary to fight him, she tucked him into bed, surprised when he hugged her tight.

  “I’m scared, Mom,” he whispered. “I wanted him back, but now I’m scared of all of them.”

  All she could do was to lie beside him, holding him, wondering where she’d find the strength to fight. She knew both Gage and Prado were keeping watch somewhere outside, so trying to escape with Robby now would be a dangerous move. Weeping long into the night, thankful Jonas didn’t return, yet worried when he didn’t, she focused on protecting Robby and herself. “But how?” she cried. “Dear God, tell me how?”

  The blue neckerchief was in the empty bucket when Jenny went to the well for water the next morning. Sometime during the night, Charmas came close enough to leave the scarf for her to find. Not a sound reached her from the towering pines that no longer seemed protective. Where was he?

  By the time she and Robby finished chores there was no sign of him, nor had Jonas and Prado returned. “Mom, are you sick?”

  “No,” she snapped, desperate to get him away. How much time would Charmas wait before his need for revenge would drive him into the open? “Robby, let’s go down to the creek.”

  “But you were scared of them,” he insisted. “What made you stop?”

  She couldn’t answer him. How do you explain feelings that were as confused as snow flurries blown every which way by the wind? Or was it the thought of Charmas that both eased and increased her fear? Charmas, who had showed his caring for Robby. Charmas, with the promise of hope and a chance to love in his eyes. Char­mas, asking her what she would do if he had to kill Jonas. Then she knew. He had recovered his memory by then. Or had he ever lost it? Had all those weeks she’d cared for him been part of his hunt? Was she merely bait to be used by all of them? Could she trust him now? Charmas who was a killer. She roused herself from foolish dreams. She had no one but herself to depend on.

  “Let’s go, Robby.”

  Gage’s warning that they had to be back in an hour fed Jenny’s desperation. Smoke spiraled high from damp leaves scattered over the small fire near the creek. Her hat swayed on a flimsy branch. Both were barely visible from the cabins.