Some parts came harder than others. Jim Younger would be an easy snare if the outlaw knew that Ian Cawley was going to hang with the sheriff thinking Ian was a Younger. Jim would be sure to attend, flashing a smile seconds before the trapdoor fell out from Ian’s feet, smug in the knowledge that the holler had just hung a marshal. The occasion would provide full closure on the tit-for-tat relationship the two men had—enjoyed wouldn’t be the word. Endured. That was the proper wording.
Stomached.
Younger wouldn’t shed any tears when that noose closed around Ian’s neck, and the same went for him…but how to draw Jim to the hanging without Ian confessing his real name? That was the problem.
The outlaw wouldn’t waste time on a hanging—wouldn’t risk showing his face—unless the victim was family.
Pulling the blankets closer around him, Ian stared up at the peeling ceiling plaster. The room was chilly tonight. Still hadn’t replaced that window. He’d be sure to take care of it first thing in the morning. He recalled the black walnuts Lyric had been working on this morning and wondered if she’d ever baked that cake. He hadn’t made it back from the garden in time for supper, but she’d left a note on the counter saying that his meal was in the warming oven. He hadn’t noticed a cake anywhere.
A glass of buttermilk and a piece of chocolate cake would make him sleep better.
He got up and pulled on his trousers. When he crept into the hallway he paused. Edwina’s bedroom door was wide open.
Perhaps Lyric’s mother was having trouble sleeping?
He should check on her. He only needed to poke his head in. Lyric wouldn’t want her mother to be uncomfortable.
Stepping inside the room, he quietly moved across the floor to her bedside. The woman was sleeping fitfully, tossing her head back and forth. She moaned quietly in her sleep.
Ian reached out a cool hand to touch her forehead. It was warm and damp. Edwina opened her eyes at his touch.
“Who are you?”
He saw no reason to lie to her. Why perpetuate a falsehood? Why tell a deliberate untruth to a woman whose mind was already lost?
“Ian Cawley,” he said. “I’m a U.S. marshal.”
“Are you here to harm us, Mr. Cawley?”
“No, ma’am. I mean you no harm.” Stepping back toward the hallway, he quietly closed the door and then returned to her bedside. Whispering now, he said, “Hear me out before you call for Lyric.”
He proceeded to tell his story, starting with the accident. When he finished, Edwina shook her head.
“So you’re not an outlaw.”
“No, ma’am, I’m not. As I said, I’m a U.S. marshal. I make my home in Kansas City.”
She shifted, her breathing slow and laborious. “Why the secrecy?”
“You’ve heard what the authorities plan to do to me.”
“I hear things. I’m mad, not deaf.”
He straightened and glanced toward the closed door before he continued. “I’m working on a plan to avoid the noose and help all of us, but I can’t let anyone know that I’ve regained my memory until it’s time to put the plan into motion.” His gaze returned to her. “Will you allow me a brief time before you tell Lyric?”
“Who said I would tell Lyric?”
“I assume that since she’s your daughter and she’s a lovely, trusting young woman you’ll want to tell her.”
The woman closed her eyes and struggled for breath. When the spell passed, she said, “I’ll keep your secret.”
He nodded.
“But only because Lyric has bigger things to worry about.”
He stepped closer, barely able to hear her soft reply. “I beg your pardon?”
“Lark and Boots have run away. I heard them leave earlier.”
“That’s not possible. They were giggling in the front room not two hours ago. Where have they gone?”
“Away. Lark refuses to leave Boots and she knows Lyric has fancy dreams for once I’m gone. Dreams to leave this house I built for them.”
Fancy dreams? A longing to be free of this woman’s legacy didn’t seem out of place.
Edwina looked up though faded, haunted eyes and gave a maniacal laugh. “Fools—they are fools.” The mirth faded to a dry cackle when the cough overcame her. Managing to speak, she whispered, “Laudanum…I need my laudanum.”
He focused on the small vial sitting on the table. Unscrewing the cap, he drew a small amount into the dropper and placed it under her tongue. He turned when he heard Lyric’s voice in the hallway. “Mother? I’m coming.”
Stepping away from the bed, he quickly moved to the door to meet Lyric.
Lyric paused in the doorway, wearing a puzzled expression. “I’m sorry—did Mother wake you? It’s those dreams again. They make her restless.”
He took her by the arm and led her back into the hallway. “But Mother…” She glanced over her shoulder.
“She’s fine. I gave her a dose of laudanum. She’ll be asleep shortly.”
“But I should check on her—perhaps some warm tea would help…”
Gently taking her by her shoulders, he asked, “Where is Lark?”
“Why…in bed, of course. I was reading and just about to go up and join her. Why do you ask?”
“I think we’d better check.” Together they moved to the rear of the house and the small room Lark claimed. When they opened the door, Ian noted it was clean, everything in place but for evidence of a teenage girl’s hurried escape. A drawer half open. Empty chiffonier.
Lyric held the light higher, her jaw agape. “Where is she?”
“I’m afraid she and Boots have decided to run away.”
“Run away!”
“I’ll fill you in on the details later. Right now, throw some clothing on and I’ll saddle Norman. They can’t have gotten too far.”
14
Heavy wind and rain rocked Lark as she held the lantern higher, trying to shield the flickering flame. “Drat this rain!” The pillowcase containing her belongings dangled around her waist where she’d tied it earlier.
“I told you we should have waited.” Boots’s red cowboy boots sank deep into mud. The cold spring rain was soaking both the girls through. “We’ll never make it to Hornet tonight.”
“We have to get out of the weather!” Lark called. “We can’t spend the night in this!”
“There’s a cave up the road, remember? Ordsman’s Cave?”
“Oh, I hate that place. It’s so big and scary—and has all those bats.”
“We don’t have a choice.” Hail began to pepper the girls as they walked. “We’ll be beaten to death!”
“Okay, run!” The girls set off, dodging deep puddles and clutching their hoods over their heads. Boots dropped her valise and ran back to pick it up. Mud dripped from the bottom. “Oh…this was my mother’s.”
“We can clean it later. Come on, these hailstones are getting bigger.”
It took a while to maneuver the muddy road and climb through rushing gullies and thick blackberry briars. Holding tightly to each other’s hands they forded a creek and climbed a jagged limestone bluff to the cave opening. Crawling inside the crude shelter, Lark fell on her back. She tried to catch her breath and saw Boots was gasping for air as well.
The thought Lark most dreaded surfaced, of hundreds—maybe thousands—of bats hanging upside down on the ceiling. If she closed her eyes she would hear the sound of fluttering wings. The lantern burned so low it barely gave off enough light to make out their immediate surroundings. As she watched, the light went out and the cave went pitch black.
“Oh, dear,” Boots said.
“I hate caves.”
“Maybe we should have waited until tomorrow morning to leave.”
“Probably, but the weather was fine when we left. I thought we’d have plenty of time to make it to Hornet.”
“Yeah,” Boots sighed. “Me too.”
Only the sound of their ragged breath met Lark’s ears.
The hail pas
sed and a gentle rain fell on the limestone bluffs. “Most likely we’ll have to spend the night in here,” Lark said. “Are you up to it?”
“I…well, sure. If you are.”
“Oh, I am. Totally up to it.”
“Then we stay here.”
After a bit, Boots said, “Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?”
“Now, why would you ask that? We’ve got a plan and we’re sticking to it. We hide out for a while, and then when Lyric gives up and moves on without me, we’ll be free to go back to the old house—leastways I will.”
“I would stay with you, but Grandpa really needs me, Lark. Honest. Caroline can barely boil water and I’ve been thinking I’m a big help around the house.”
Lark shifted and rolled to her side. “I understand. If I had a grandpa like yours I would never leave. I’d just marry and move my husband into the house.”
“That’s what I plan to do—when I marry. Maybe four or five years from now.” Boots turned the opposite direction, lying back to back with Lark. The two fell silent, but after a moment Boots admitted, “Grandpa and Caroline are really going to be worried about me. I left a note—but they’ll worry anyway. Grandpa especially. He’s like that.”
“Lyric too—in fact, she’ll get one of her headaches that won’t go away for weeks. I hate to do this to her, but she’ll make do without us, Boots.”
“Yeah, I know. It can’t be helped.”
Lark raised her eyes at the sound of soft fluttering overhead.
Yawning, Boots said sleepily. “When we marry, we can do all sorts of things together with our husbands. Go on picnics, attend church on Sunday, do our shopping together.”
“You’ll probably marry before I do,” Lark confessed. “Since you’re a little older.”
“Yes…you’re right. Do you think there are any rich men in Hornet?”
“Does a man’s financial state matter to you?”
“No, but I wouldn’t want him to be dirt poor,” said Boots.
“Why not?” asked Lark. “It’s the heart that counts, and the fact that he would be a God-fearing man would make you wealthy beyond your wildest dreams.” She sighed. “It’s such a shame Lyric won’t ever marry.”
“Bet she does,” said Boots. “I bet she’d marry Joseph in a minute if he wasn’t going to hang soon.” Boots rolled to her back.
“Could be—can’t say I haven’t noticed the way those two eye each other, like one was pancakes and the other was warm maple syrup.”
“I’ve noticed that too. Shame he has to die, even if he is an outlaw. Could be if he met the right woman he would settle down and give up his wayward life.”
“Seems like he’s got good sense,” Lark agreed.
“And he’s a fine-looking feller,” Boots said.
“Really fine-looking. Wish he had several brothers.”
“Maybe he does.”
Boots rose on one arm. “Maybe, and if he was your brother-in-law and he had brothers, then you could introduce me and we could still have husbands about the same time—if the brothers were close to our age.”
“That’s a thought.”
“’Course, rumor has it the Youngers aren’t real well suited for matrimony. I don’t think any of them live long enough to really settle in.”
“True, and I’d want a man who could buy me a new dress at least once a year.”
“Once a year?” Boots said. “Well, that wouldn’t be asking a whole lot.”
“It would for a Bolton.”
Rain pattered softly on the soaked ground. The fresh-scented air drifted through the cave. The rain appeared to have passed but Lark was just plain too weary to walk back home.
“Guess we might as well stay here tonight.”
“And then what? Continue to Hornet in the morning?”
“Let’s sleep on the thought.” If making a new life was this complicated maybe they should wait until warmer weather. “Right now I’m too cold and wet to think about anything but a fire and a mug of Lyric’s hot tea.”
“Me too. Maybe we should just go back in the morning.”
“Maybe.”
“You’re not worried about the bats?”
“If I can’t see them they won’t worry me.”
Lark just hoped the good Lord made her sleep like a log.
15
Ian’s fingertips dug into the wet limestone as he scaled the bluff behind Lyric. “Are you certain there’s a cave up here?”
“Positive.” Lyric grunted, pulling her body steadily up the incline. “We’ve played up here since we were kids. A couple of years ago Lark declared she’d never come here again because of the bats so we haven’t visited in a while, but if that hail caught the girls they’d have no other choice. This would be the nearest shelter.” The couple slowly ascended the bluff. Overhead a thin moon appeared.
“I can’t imagine what’s gotten into Lark. I know she doesn’t want to leave the Holler but we won’t, not for a while.”
Ian took a firmer hitch and hoisted himself to a ledge. “She’s at the age where she forms close relationships; she doesn’t intend to leave Boots.”
The cave opening came into sight and Lyric paused to take a deep breath. “There it is.”
Pulling himself up beside her, Ian studied the entrance. “It’s dark as a coal hole in there. Wouldn’t they have carried a light?”
“One would think.”
“Then again, they might not be there.”
“It’s possible, but since Boots ate supper with us and I saw her and Lark on the porch later, I assume they haven’t been gone long enough to walk much further. I’ll take a look.” She reached for the lantern tied around his waist and he stopped her. “I’ll check. There could be a bear or a rattler in there.”
She took a step back. “All right. I don’t like dark places anyway,” she confessed. “Especially caves.”
“You stand right here—I’ll have to take the light. Can you handle the darkness while I’m gone?”
“Of course.” She glanced at the sky and the sliver of moon. Thick clouds still churned overhead but a watery slit of light occasionally appeared. They’d spent half the night looking through hills and hollers before Lyric remembered the cave.
“Be back shortly.” Taking the lantern, he ducked and disappeared into the cavern.
Before she could catch her breath, he returned. “They’re in there.”
“They are!” Lyric started for the opening but he pulled her back.
“They’re okay—both sound asleep.”
“We can’t leave them there overnight.”
He glanced up, noting the moon’s position. “Dawn will be here in another few hours.”
“But Mother’s alone in the house.”
“She asked for her medicine and I gave her a dose. She should sleep the night through.” He led her a short distance away from the cave entrance.
“I can’t walk away and leave those two girls here alone,” she protested. “Why not wake them and take them home?”
“Because I want those bats hanging from the ceiling to be the first thing they see when they open their eyes. Maybe they won’t be so quick to take off next time.”
“I can’t go home without them.”
“Then we sleep here tonight.”
“Here?” She looked pointedly at her feet sinking into the soaked ground.
“It’s not going to be comfortable, but dawn isn’t far off.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She sighed, pulling her wrap tighter around herself. “The girls do need to realize how foolishly they’ve acted. Where could they have been going?”
“I’d say they planned to get to Hornet tonight. By morning I suspect they would have headed back.”
“Why would Lark want to run away? We’re all each other has.”
“You know she doesn’t want to leave Boots; those two are inseparable.”
“But leaving is in the future. I couldn’t leave now.”
&nbs
p; He shrugged. “Apparently she doesn’t want to risk it.” He sat down and patted the patch of rock beside him. “Your bed, milady.”
Eyeing the limestone mattress, she cringed.
“It’s going to be a long night,” he said, chuckling. “Longest two or three hours of your life.”
Stirring, Lark opened her eyes to meet Lyric’s stern expression. Dawn lit the cave entrance. Bolting upright, she murmured. “Don’t be mad at me. I can explain.”
“You’d better have a good explanation, young lady.” Lyric’s hand moved to her stiff back. “Scaring me out of my wits.”
Boots sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Don’t be upset, Lyric. We were going to turn back and go home but we were too tired.”
“You were going to let me pace the floor all night, worry myself to a frenzy?”
“If the rain hadn’t come you would have never missed me until this morning.”
“That’s your explanation? It’s the rain’s fault?”
“Ladies, it’s too early in the morning to argue. Let’s get your things and get out of here.” Ian reached for the stuffed pillowcases and Boots jammed her feet into her mud-caked boots. All avoided eye contact.
“Those bats bother you any?” he asked.
Lark kept her head low. “I…I didn’t look at them.”
“Better take a look, girls. You were mighty brave to sleep in here with all that company.”
Lark shook her head. “I…don’t want to look.”
“Me either,” Boots echoed.
“Suit yourself, but they make quite a sight.” He leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. “How many would you say are up there, Lyric?”
Lyric shook her head. “I wouldn’t…care to say.”
“Hmm. Guess a body couldn’t say with any certainty.” He glanced at Lark. “You girls ready to go home?”
“Yes,” they answered in unison. Both heads were down and intent.
“Then let’s head out.”
Once they cleared the cave’s entrance Lyric dropped back to walk with Ian. With the bedraggled girls out of earshot she whispered, “There wasn’t a single bat up there.”
The Healer's Touch Page 15
