And Jenny…what kind of life would she have if he was sent to prison? She was too young to spend the rest of her life waiting for a man she might never see again. Too young to be a widow…but she wouldn’t remain a widow for long.
The thought of Jenny in the arms of another man cut through him like cold steel.
He slid a glance at the two men seated beside the fire. They didn’t act like any bounty hunters he’d ever known. They’d treated him decently enough so far, and he no longer feared that they’d gun him down in cold blood somewhere on the trail; they were determined to take him in and claim the reward. And he had nothing to offer them to make them change their minds.
Damn. His captors would sleep in shifts, leaving him no chance to escape.
Resting his head against the tree, Fallon closed his eyes. He could almost hear the prison doors slamming shut behind him.
It was near dawn when Jenny and William Howard caught up with the bounty hunters.
Howard drew rein a good distance from where Jed and Vince had bedded down for the night.
“Hello, the camp,” he hollered.
Jed jumped to his feet and drew his gun. “Who’s there?”
“William Howard, from Twin Rivers.”
“Come on in.”
The two bounty hunters were standing well apart when Jenny and Will Howard rode up. Ryder sat cross-legged against a cottonwood tree, his hands and feet bound.
He straightened when he saw Jenny, a frown creasing his brow, a question in his eyes.
The bounty hunters weren’t taking any chances, Jenny mused as she offered her husband a smile of encouragement. No chances at all. Jed’s Winchester was leveled at William Howard’s broad chest. Vince’s rifle was aimed at Ryder’s head. She let her gaze run over Ryder lovingly, assuring herself that he was all right.
“I hope you ain’t thinkin’ of doin’ somethin’ stupid, like tryin’ to take our prisoner,” Jed remarked.
“No,” Will Howard said quickly. “We came to make a deal.”
Vince took a step forward, his finger curling around the trigger. “What kind of deal?”
“We’ve got close to three hundred dollars here,” Will said, holding out a brown paper sack. “More than the reward offered for Fallon.”
Jed frowned. “So?”
“We want to buy him back. You’ll be money ahead, and you won’t have to haul him all the way to El Paso.”
Jed and Vince exchanged wary glances.
“Don’t sound quite right,” Jed remarked, scratching his ear.
Vince shrugged. “Sounds good to me. Let’s take the money and ride.”
Jed shook his head. “I don’t know. Might give bounty hunters a bad name if we start makin’ deals.”
“Who the hell cares?” Vince exclaimed. “Two hundred bucks is two hundred bucks. What difference does it make who we get it from so long as we get it?”
Jed grunted softly. “None, I guess. Okay, mister, you got a deal. I’ll take the money. Vince, you untie the ’breed.”
“Wait a minute,” Howard said. “We want your word that you won’t be coming back here to try and collect again.”
“You’d take our word?” Vince asked in amazement.
Will Howard nodded.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Vince muttered. Drawing his knife, he cut Ryder’s hands and feet free. “You’re a lucky man, Fallon.”
Ryder nodded. “I never knew how lucky until now.” Rising, he rubbed his chafed wrists. “Okay if I go?”
“Reckon so,” Jed replied as he stuffed the counted greenbacks into his saddlebag. He grinned at Will Howard. “Nice doing business with y’all.”
Fallon stared after Jed and Vince as they rode north, unable to believe they were letting him go.
“Ryder!” Jenny slid from the back of her horse and threw herself into her husband’s arms. “Oh Ryder!”
He hugged her close, his face pressed to the top of her head. The scent of her hair filled his nostrils. He drew her closer, pressing her against him, soaking up her nearness, her warmth.
“How?” he asked at last. “Where’d you get that money?”
“From our neighbors,” Jenny answered. She rained kisses over his face. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
“Wonderful,” Fallon agreed, though wonderful hardly seemed a word strong enough to convey what he was feeling.
“Come on,” Jenny said, beaming up at him. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
As the days grew shorter and the nights longer, there were fewer chores to be done, at least outside. During inclement weather, Ryder taught Jenny how to play poker and blackjack. She was a quick study, and Ryder marveled at her keen mind and nimble fingers.
“You’d have made a terrific dealer,” he mused one blustery afternoon. “With that innocent face and those hands, you’d have made a fortune.”
“Maybe I’ll open a saloon here in the valley,” Jenny replied with a cocky grin. “We’ll wager eggs instead of gold.”
It had been raining for a week. Bored with just playing cards, Fallon had spent the time teaching Jenny the ancient art of cheating at poker.
He showed her how to palm an ace, how to stack a deck, how to mark cards.
As usual, she learned quickly.
“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” he asked as she adroitly shuffled the deck.
If he hadn’t been watching her so closely, he never would have noticed that she was cheating. An amateur would be hard-pressed to catch her at it.
“I’m sure,” Jenny answered, her face a perfect blank as she studied her cards.
Fallon picked up his hand. A pair of fours, a pair of tens and a deuce.
“I’ll take one,” he said, tossing the deuce on the table.
She dealt him a card. “And I’ll take two.”
Ryder picked up his fifth card. It was another four, giving him a full house.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
One by one, Jenny laid her cards on the table. She had four aces, and the queen of hearts.
“Pretty slick,” Fallon allowed. “Well, it’s nice to know that if next year’s crops fail, we can always head for Denver and make a killing at one of the poker tables.”
“I’m not that good, and you know it,” Jenny retorted. “You saw every move I made.”
“But I was expecting it.”
“My mother would be turning over in her grave if she knew I was learning how to be a card cheat,” Jenny muttered. “She detested gambling.”
“You’ve never mentioned her before.”
“My parents died a few months before I met Hank. My mother was a gentle woman, delicate, soft-spoken. Serene is the word that comes to mind when I think of her.”
“And your father?”
“He was a hard man, cold sometimes, but never cruel. I think you would have liked him.” Jenny cocked her head to one side. “And he would have liked you.”
“Are you saying I’m hard and cold?”
“No, no,” Jenny protested quickly. “But my father had the same inner core of strength that you do. He always knew who he was and what he was about. I always knew I could rely on him, that he’d be there when I needed him. And he was, until the day he died.”
“Why did you marry Hank?”
“He needed me. But that’s not the only reason. We were friends. Good friends. I could tell Hank anything, and he’d understand. And he loved me, as much as he could.”
Fallon felt a twinge of jealousy. “Did you love him?”
“I thought I did. I know now it wasn’t love. I was just lonely, and so was he. We sort of drifted together.” Jenny gazed out the window. “If it wasn’t for me, he’d still be alive. And Charlie too.”
“Jenny, don’t.”
“It’s true.”
“If anyone’s at fault, it’s me,” Ryder retorted. “I’ve brought you nothing but trouble.”
He picked up the cards, shuffled th
em and turned up the top card. It was the ace of spades. He shuffled the cards again, and again turned up the ace.
“If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be in Kayitah’s camp,” he said gruffly. “You’d have your son. And Hank would still be alive.”
“No!” She whirled around to face him. “Don’t say that. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.” She winced at the pain reflected in his eyes. “Ryder, please don’t think I’m blaming you.”
“Maybe you should.”
“I love you. I love our life together. I can’t help missing my baby. I can’t help feeling guilty for Hank’s death. But I wasn’t blaming you.”
“Maybe I’m blaming myself,” he muttered.
Rising, he tossed the cards onto the table, grabbed his coat and left the house.
“Ryder!” She called his name again, but he was gone.
Jenny stared at the door, wondering if she should go after him.
After a moment of indecision, she reached for her coat, then doubled over, her arms wrapped around her abdomen, as a sharp pain knifed through her.
“Ryder…”
She gasped his name as she sank to the floor. She shook her head in dismay as a warm stickiness trickled down her thighs. Blood…
Fear and a sudden blackness engulfed her. She murmured Ryder’s name once more and then there was only darkness…
She woke to the sound of someone calling her name. Gradually, she realized it was Ryder’s voice and she wondered why he sounded so frantic, so sad. It was an effort to open her eyes, and when she did so, she saw that she was in bed, and that Ryder was kneeling beside her, clutching her hand in his.
“Ryder, what’s wrong?”
“Jenny, thank God.”
“Why am I in bed?” She blinked at him several times, puzzled by the sorrowful expression in his eyes, and then, in a rush, it all came back to her. “I…what happened?”
“Jenny, why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”
“Pregnant? Me?”
She shook her head. Could she have been pregnant without knowing it? She thought back to her first pregnancy. She’d had no symptoms then either, and her menses had always been irregular.
“Are you sure?”
“Laura Barnes has had some experience as a midwife.”
Jenny let out a deep sigh. She couldn’t have been more than a couple of weeks along; she hadn’t even suspected she might be with child, yet she felt her loss deeply. Ryder’s baby, and she’d lost it. Had it been a boy or a girl? Was she never to have a child to love?
Tears welled in her eyes and coursed down her cheeks, falling faster and faster until she was sobbing in Fallon’s arms, her head buried against his shoulder.
“It’s all right, Jenny girl,” he murmured, lightly stroking her hair. “It’s all right.” He hugged her close, his lips brushing her cheek. “It’s all right.”
He held Jenny until she fell asleep; then, covering her with a blanket, he left the room and quietly closed the door.
Outside, he stared up at the snow-laden clouds, his heart heavy as he thought of Jenny’s grief and pain. And then, slowly, he raised his arms toward heaven. He was not normally a praying man, but standing there in the stillness of a dark winter night, he lifted his voice in supplication, fervently beseeching Usen to heal the hurt in Jenny’s heart and bless them with a healthy child.
Jenny recovered quickly, physically if not emotionally. Fallon was patient with her moods. He knew he could never fully understand how she felt, but he remembered all too clearly the loss of Nahdaste’s child, and he wondered if he would ever sire a child who lived.
It was difficult trying to imagine himself as a father. He’d never had much to do with kids, never knew how deeply he had wanted a child until he buried his tiny stillborn daughter beside her mother.
As the weeks passed by, Ryder began to wonder if perhaps Jenny was grieving more than necessary for a child that she hadn’t been aware she was carrying, and then he realized she wasn’t grieving only for the child she’d miscarried, but for her firstborn son, who was also forever out of her reach.
With the coming of spring, Jenny’s spirits brightened a little. There were flowers on the hillsides. Baby chicks paraded after their mothers, calves frolicked in the pasture.
A fit of spring cleaning had her turning the house inside out, shaking out the rugs, washing the windows, scrubbing the floors. It seemed to Ryder that she dusted, washed, waxed, polished or refurbished everything in sight.
She went readily into his arms at night, smiled at him with the coming of dawn, and yet he sensed the change in her, as if she were holding back a part of herself, a part she was afraid to give.
Now, as he held her close in the dark of a quiet night, he knew she was dying inside, a little each day. Some women could have a child, lose it, grieve and put it behind them. But not his Jenny girl. She was soul sick, heartsick, and he couldn’t bear to see the sorrow in her eyes any longer.
In the morning, he’d tell her he was going to El Paso to see about some cattle. Instead, he would go scout Kayitah’s camp. Alone, he might be able to get in undetected, grab the boy and get out with a whole skin. If not…he shrugged. What would happen if he failed didn’t hear thinking about.
Jenny stared at him across the table, a frown puckering her forehead. “El Paso? Can’t I go with you?”
“Not this time. The Pattersons will look after you while I’m gone.”
“But…”
“I didn’t break my back planting all those crops to have them die of neglect,” Ryder said, tugging gently on a lock of her hair. “You need to stay here and look after things.”
Jenny nodded, unconvinced. While she had thrown herself into a fit of housecleaning, Ryder had been working from dawn until dark, preparing the land, planting corn and beans and peas in neat rows, furrow after furrow. “How long will you be gone?” she asked.
“I don’t know. As long as it takes. Can I bring you anything?”
“Just bring yourself back to me as soon as possible.”
“I will. Think you could pour me another cup of coffee before I go, and maybe throw some grub in a sack?”
She nodded, her mind whirling. It was all so sudden. What would she do here all alone? He’d be gone several weeks at the least, a couple of months at the most.
She glanced around the kitchen, thinking how empty the house would be without him.
“Ryder, I…” She bit back the words. She didn’t want to be a nagging wife, or one who complained, but oh, how she was going to miss him.
“I know,” he said, and taking her in his arms, he hugged her close, knowing that if things went wrong, he’d never see her again. “I’ll bring you back a surprise,” he promised. “Come on, walk me out.”
The sight of his horse waiting at the hitching post brought a quick sheen of tears to her eyes. He was going, really going.
“Ryder…” She pressed her lips together, refusing to cry. “Have a safe trip.”
He cupped her chin in his hand and kissed her. “Take care,” he admonished.
For a moment, he gazed into her eyes, and then he smiled at her.
“Be well, Jenny girl,” he said, and swung into the saddle, afraid to linger for fear he’d change his mind about going.
With a final wave, he turned the buckskin away from the house and rode out of the yard.
Chapter Thirty
Jenny was sitting outside enjoying the fading rays of the sun when Nell Howard paused to wish her a good evening.
The Indian woman had always been friendly, stopping to pass the time of day whenever she saw Jenny. She was a pretty woman, almost regal in bearing with serene black eyes and a ready smile. Her skin was the color of burnished copper, smooth and unlined save for the tiny laugh lines around her eyes.
“How are you, Nell?” Jenny asked. Rising, she walked down the road.
“I am well, Jenny. How are yo
u?”
“Fine, thanks. A little lonely.”
Nell Howard frowned. “Lonely? Where is Fallon?”
“He left for El Paso yesterday afternoon. He….” Jenny’s voice trailed off. “What is it, Nell?” she asked, seeing the look of dismay in the older woman’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Nell Howard shook her head. “I…”
“What?” A sudden nameless fear took hold of Jenny. “What is it? Tell me!”
“I had a dream last night.”
A cold hand coiled around Jenny’s heart. Nell Howard had been a medicine woman among her own people, one given to dreams and visions. It was a power that had not left her.
“What did you dream?”
“I saw a man riding a buckskin horse. He rode into a hostile village and took a small child.”
The hand around Jenny’s heart grew colder, tighter. Fallon rode a buckskin horse. “What else did you see?”
“Blood. And death.”
Jenny swallowed hard, forcing the words from her throat. “Ryder’s death?”
“I could not be certain, for the dream turned dark.” Nell placed her hand on Jenny’s arm. “You were there, and two children were with you. One born. One waiting.”
Jenny folded her arms over her stomach, her heart pounding. How did Nell know about Cosito? How did she know that Jenny suspected she might be pregnant again?
“I’ve got to go after him,” Jenny said. “I’ve got to stop Ryder before it’s too late.”
“William will take you.”
“Ask him to hurry, please.”
“He is ready now.”
Jenny took Nell’s hands in hers and held them tight. “Thank you.”
“Be careful, Jenny. Do not worry about your house, or your fields. I will look after them until you return.” Nell gazed deep into Jenny’s eyes. “May Ta ahpu guide your path.”
Jenny nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. Blood and death… Please, God, don’t let me be too late.
Fallon’s thoughts were tumultuous as he made his way toward Kayitah’s camp. He was taking a big risk, one that could cost him his life. He knew it, and yet he couldn’t turn back. He couldn’t live with the heartache he read in Jenny’s eyes any longer, couldn’t live with his guilt. Once, Jenny had accused him of giving Kayitah her son to save his own life. And in a way, she had been right.
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