Emmy's Equal

by Marcia Gruver

  Mr. Malone hung his head. “I reckon so.”

  Father Darius patted him on the back. “I suggest you apply the golden rule to your dealings with Señor Ortiz from now on. How does that sound?”

  He mumbled his agreement and glanced at Mr. Ortiz.

  The young man offered his hand and they shook heartily.

  Marcos saw his chance and moved in. “Father Darius?”

  His attention still on the reconciling men, Father Darius lifted joyful eyes. “Yes?” He stood to his feet. “Why, hello, Marcos. I see you’ve brought me more customers.” He glanced around and sighed. “We’ll have to squeeze to make a bit more room, but I suppose we can take them in.”

  He nodded at Willem and John then smiled gently at Bertha and Magda. “I’m very sorry. I have no accommodations to offer women.” His outstretched arm took in the crowded room. “I’m afraid this is no place for the fairer sex. There’s absolutely no privacy. You’d be most uncomfortable here.” He held up his finger. “But I can suggest the perfect alternative for you.”

  Marcos shook his head vigorously. “No, Father. They need only to talk to you. They’re searching for Raul.”

  Concern lined his gentle face. “Is the boy in trouble?”

  John smiled. “None that we know of.” He held out his hand. “John Rawson of the Twisted-R Ranch in Carrizo Springs.” He indicated Willem, Bertha, and Magda, introducing them in turn. “These fine people are guests on my ranch.”

  Father Darius colored slightly. “Of course. I’m very sorry. I have a simple mind, I’m afraid. I see everyone I meet as homeless waifs.” He bowed at the waist. “Forgive my unfortunate assumption, ladies.”

  Magda offered her hand. “No apology necessary, Father.”

  He grinned. “Call me Darius, please. I’m not a priest and hardly deserving of the title. Father is a moniker the men pinned on me years ago when I took in a few orphan boys, and it stuck.” He addressed John again. “You say you’re looking for Raul?”

  John nodded. “We were told he has information on some livestock for sale. Mrs. Bloom, here, is looking to buy several head of prime cattle to take home with her to Humble.”

  Father Darius’s head shot up, his gaze fixed on Bertha. “Did he say Humble?”

  Bertha smiled. “That’s right.”

  “Texas?”

  “Is there another one?”

  He blinked. “And your name is Bloom?”

  Perplexed by the questions, Bertha furrowed her brow. “That’s what the man said, ain’t it?”

  He studied her, his eyes gone to narrow slits. “You wouldn’t be kin to a fellow named Thaddeus Bloom, now would you?”

  Bertha tensed and her mouth went slack. “As a matter of fact, I would.” She stepped closer and tilted her face up to his. “What’s your full name, mister?”

  Beaming, he stuck out his hand. “Darius Q. Thedford at your service, ma’am.”

  ***

  “Cuddy, stop!” Emmy shouted louder, but the rushing wind and pounding of the horse’s hooves drowned out her voice. She clung to Cuddy’s back with all of her strength, praying the ride would end soon.

  Relief flooded her middle with warmth when she recognized the slope to the river. Certainly Cuddy would let her down when they reached the water’s edge.

  The warm glow turned to icy fingers of fear when he turned the big mare and thundered along the bank, urging the horse to go faster than Emmy had ever ridden in her life.

  She prayed either the horse or Cuddy knew where they were going, because the overcast night was so murky, she could see nothing. Feeling the horse lift from the ground, she tightened her grip around Cuddy’s waist, closed her eyes, and screamed.

  His hoarse laughter floated on the breeze as they cleared the low fence and hurtled into a black veil.

  When she thought he’d never stop, he did. Still laughing, he reined the panting mare to a halt. “Give me your hand,” he said, groping behind him.

  She pushed him away. “Why?”

  “So I can help you down.”

  “I don’t want down. Where are we, Cuddy? It’s as dim as pitch out here.”

  He chuckled. “Ain’t that nice?”

  “No, it’s not nice. Take me back this instant.”

  He groaned. “Come on, honey. Don’t be like that. We have to give this horse a little rest first. Besides, I just want to talk for a while.”

  She let go of him and crossed her arms, though he couldn’t see her. “I don’t think so, Cuddy.”

  He sighed. “You’re going to force me to embarrass myself, aren’t you?”

  Her interest piqued, she waited for him to explain.

  He didn’t.

  “How might I do that?”

  His shoulders rose and fell with a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s just that ... talking to you about our fathers makes me feel better. I mean ... knowing there’s someone who understands means the world to me.”

  Emmy dangled between hugging him and inviting him to peddle his wares elsewhere. The wild ride he’d just subjected her to swung the vote. “I don’t believe you.”

  His silence made her fear she’d angered him. When he spoke, the weight of resignation pulled his voice to a whisper. “I can’t say I blame you.” He nudged the horse around.

  Emmy’s heart lurched. “Wait, Cuddy.” She felt for his hand. “I’m being silly. Help me dismount.”

  He lowered her to the ground and she stood surrounded by night sounds and little else, wrapped in a soft cocoon of darkness. She shivered, willing Cuddy to hurry and join her. When he did, his arm went around her and she relaxed into him.

  “Where are we?”

  “A place I come when I need to be alone.” He led her a few feet from the horse and spread a blanket on the ground. “It’s a nice spot. I wish there was more light so you could see.”

  “So do I.” She groped the ground before she sat. “What about snakes and scorpions?”

  He squeezed her shoulders. “Stay close to me. I won’t let them get you.”

  Bumping his arm, Emmy giggled. “Who will protect me from you?”

  His answering laughter sounded more like the old Cuddy. “I won’t hurt you. I only want to spend a little time with you.”

  A warning tensed her stomach. “Yes, to talk. That’s what you said.”

  “To talk. Of course.”

  Now that her eyes weren’t clenched tight with dread, they began to adjust to the meager light. Cuddy’s dim outline blocked out the night sky. “Has something else happened? With your father, I mean?”

  He ducked his head. “Not yet, but it’s bound to. As sure as we’re sitting here, it will happen when Father gets home. I see no way around it.”

  The alarm laced through his words clenched Emmy’s fists. She shivered again, this time with foreboding. “What, Cuddy? What do you think will happen?”

  Illogically, considering the gloomy turn of their conversation, the clouds overhead parted, allowing the starry sky to rain light across the open field.

  Emmy could see Cuddy clearly now, trace the etched lines in his forehead, read the fear in his eyes.

  “When my father returns from Catarina, Diego will be leaving the Twisted-R.”

  Stunned, Emmy stared at him. “For good?”

  “Hauled to the gate by the scruff of his neck, if I know my father—which means I’ll never get off this accursed ranch.”

  She gripped his arm. “I don’t understand. Why would your father ask Diego to leave?”

  He grunted. “Like I said, there won’t be any asking.” He speared her with a glance. “Diego committed the unpardonable. He hurt Greta.” Bitterness tainted his laugh. “No one hurts John Rawson’s family, especially his baby girl, without paying a mighty high price.”

  She squirmed. “So you heard?”

  He shook his head. “Diego told me. I wasn’t sure you heard until now.”

  Emmy stared. “He told you?”

  “He tells me everything.” He reached i
nside his jacket and drew out a small container, fumbling with the lid. “When Diego’s gone, that just leaves me, the old man’s favorite project.” He turned up the flask and took a long drink then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Not to mention his biggest failure.”

  Emmy seized the bottle from his hand and held it up. “Where did this come from? I thought you threw it away.”

  “I had a spare.”

  He reached for it, but she snatched it away. “You’re not getting this back.”

  He shrugged, his teeth flashing white against his shadowy face. “That’s all right. It’s empty.”

  She shook it but heard no sloshing sound. “Oh, Cuddy. How much have you had?”

  “Not enough, evidently. I’m still conscious.” His head drooped between his knees. “Aw, Emily. What will I do if Diego leaves? He’s been my right arm. With him gone, it won’t take long for the old man to figure out I don’t know a thing about running the ranch.”

  There was no doubting his anguish. Once again, sympathy crowded her heart, and she touched his arm. “Why don’t you talk to your father? Tell him the truth about how you feel?”

  He snorted. “Talk to my father? Now that’s a laugh.” He lifted his head and stared thoughtfully. “Maybe I could plead my case to Mother. Have her soften him up for me.”

  Emmy lifted one shoulder. “Forgive me, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Compassion is hardly her strongest trait.”

  His gaze shifted to Emmy. “What makes you say that? Kate Rawson is the model of compassion.”

  Emmy balked. “Not toward me. Papa entrusted her with my welfare, but she hasn’t bothered to see to my needs for two days.” She stuck out her lip. “I’ve nearly starved.”

  “But Rosita has.” His eyes were troubled. “Hasn’t she?”

  “Only once, but she never came again.”

  He groaned and balled his fists at his temples. “Mother has no idea. She’d have a stroke if she knew.”

  Emmy swatted away his words. “That can’t be so. How could she not know?”

  “Her mind is preoccupied with Greta, so she put Rosita in charge of you. I heard her myself.”

  The bewildering words were a muddle in her mind. She might have discounted them except for the memory of Rosita’s sullen face at her door.

  “Then Rosita hasn’t fulfilled her charge.” She cocked an eyebrow at Cuddy. “Why would she do that?”

  He spun on the blanket to face her, nearly toppling into her lap. “That’s an easy answer. There’s a rift between Diego and me that wasn’t there before. She blames you.”

  His speech beginning to slur, he picked up her hands. “I’m sorry, Emmy. I should’ve checked on you myself. I knew Rosita was angry, but I never expected her to go this far.” He squeezed her fingers. “Don’t worry. I intend to speak to her.”

  Emmy squeezed back. “Please don’t. We’ve had enough trouble in your house. Besides”—she made a face—“Rosita might poison my frijoles.”

  Laughing too loudly, he swayed toward her. “You’re awfully cute. Did you know that?” He seemed to grow ten more hands, all busy grasping her arms, shoulders, and neck while he pulled himself closer. “Just plain cute,” he drawled. “That’s what you are.”

  “Stop it, now.” Emmy strained to pull away. “You’re too rough. Let me go, please.”

  “Sweet, too, ain’t you? As sweet as a newborn calf.”

  The incredible strength in his hands shot fear to Emmy’s heart and swelled her throat. “No, Cuddy. Please, don’t!”

  As he pressed her to the ground, his greedy mouth sought hers. “Sweetest little thing I ever—”

  A sharp intake of air and a howl finished his sentence. With a roar, Diego ripped Cuddy’s body free of Emmy, one hand buried in his hair, the other clutching the nape of his neck. Tossing him aside like a straw-filled scarecrow, Diego stood over him with balled fists, his chest heaving.

  Obviously dazed, and frightened out of his wits, Cuddy cowered with his fingers splayed over his face. “What did you do that for?”

  Diego started for him again and Cuddy crawled backward over the rocky ground like a crawfish. “Wait!” he cried. “I wasn’t going to hurt her. I was just fooling around. I swear.”

  Still panting wildly, Diego stalked to Emmy and jerked her up by the arm. Before she could protest, he herded her to his horse and urged her into the saddle then climbed in behind her.

  As they passed Cuddy, still on the ground, Diego stopped and spoke for the first time. “What’s happened to you? I didn’t think you capable of something like this. Don’t you think it’s time to lay off the booze?”

  Eyes blazing, Cuddy leaped to his feet. “Blast you, Diego. You don’t know a thing about me, including my intentions. What are you doing here anyway? Do you spy on me all the time now?”

  “I have more important things to occupy my time. Little Pete saw the two of you ride out of the barn. He knew you’d been drinking.”

  “Why don’t you mind your own business, brother?” He nodded at Emmy. “Though my guess is that’s exactly what you think you’re doing.”

  Cuddy grabbed hold of the reins and peered up at her. “Forgive me, Emily. I swear I meant you no harm. I only wanted to kiss you.”

  Before she could answer, Diego spurred the horse and bolted away.

  The trip home was as frantic and fast as her last ride. The difference was in how it made her feel. Instead of fearful and desperately clinging, she rode cradled by Diego’s body, his arms around her waist, the warmth of his chest at her back, his breath in her hair.

  The madness and the sweetness of the moment made her cry, the tears barely touching her cheeks before the wind whisked them away. Her heart swelled in gratitude to Diego, her champion, her hero.

  They ducked into the barn where Little Pete waited, his dark eyes pools of concern. Rushing to them, he held the horse while Diego helped her down. “You all right, miss?”

  Embarrassed, she ducked her head. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “That’s all, Pete,” Diego barked.

  Pete nodded and hustled out the door.

  Her emotions swelling in rolling waves of joy, Emmy turned and lifted grateful eyes. “Diego, I—”

  His hand shot up. “Save your explanation for someone who cares. Close your mouth and get inside the house.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Father Darius pulled out chairs for Bertha and Magda in the little boxed-in room that served as his office. Willem stood against the wall. Bertha sat at the edge of her seat, and Darius knelt before her, holding her hands. She gazed at him in wonder, disbelief and joy taking turns as well.

  “It’s really you? The same Darius Thedford that gave Thad the deed to our land so many years ago?”

  He nodded. “None other.”

  She squeezed his fingers. “I’ve been looking for you for over a year now. Sent word across the country, but no news ever came back. It seemed like you fell off the face of the earth.”

  Darius smiled, his gesture taking in his shabby surroundings. “I guess you could say in a way I did.”

  “I wouldn’t say it,” Magda said, patting him on the shoulder. “You’re doing a wonderful service to the Lord in this place.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Dane.” His attention returned to Bertha. “You say you’ve been looking for me, dear?”

  “Yes,” she whispered softly. “I have something I need to give you.” She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I didn’t understand the urge to see it done until now. At first, I thought I was meant to do it for my Thad.”

  Darius’s eyes lit up. “How is young Thad?” Drawing back, he laughed at himself. “Oh, my, I suppose he’s hardly the impetuous lad I met on his way to college.” Amazement clouding his eyes, he gazed at Bertha, making the connection. “Thad must be pushing fifty years old by now.”

  Magda slipped her arm around Bertha’s trembling shoulders. “Father, Thad’s been gone for more than six years. Bertha’s a widow now.”

 
“Oh no,” he said, the word so filled with sorrow it came out a moan. “Bertha, I’m real sorry to hear that.”

  Her gaze losing focus, Bertha gripped Magda’s hand. “Six years. It don’t seem possible, does it?”

  Darius patted her hand. “He was such a fine lad, too. How did it happen?”

  Wrenching herself from the past, Bertha lifted tearful eyes. “River swallowed him. The water came up so fast it swept him away in plain sight of several witnesses. Thad was a right good swimmer, but he never stood a chance against a flash flood on the San Jacinto.”

  Darius cleared his throat. “The ways of our God are a source of unfathomable mystery, Bertha. My life took a new direction after I met your husband, and he was the reason. I was nothing more than a drifter, making a living by fleecing innocent victims. Then Thad came along, and I caught a glimpse of genuine goodness. Of course, he took none of the credit. Gave it all to God, and didn’t mind telling me so. I decided then and there I needed the God I saw reflected in that boy’s eyes.”

  Bertha clasped her hands and wiggled on the seat. “You got Him, too. I see Him right there in your eyes.”

  Darius swallowed hard and ducked his head. “I often lamented the fact that I lost contact with Thad and planned many times to travel to Humble and find him, to tell him what he’d done for me. Somehow that trip never took place, and now I’ve lost the chance forever.”

  A look of sweet peace softened Bertha’s features. “Not forever, Father. My Thad awaits us both in heaven. Then you’ll have forever to say what you need to say. I’m sure he’ll have a thing or two to tell you as well. He was always mighty beholden to you for giving him that deed.”

  She paused, smiling a little. “There is one thing Thad always wondered. If you don’t mind, can you clear it up for me now? I reckon he’s on pins and needles up in heaven, waiting for me to ask you.”

  Father Darius grinned. “Ask me anything.”

  “Well”—she wiggled on the seat—“Thad always figured you won that deed in a poker game. Is that how you came to have it?”