Valley of the Heart

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Valley of the Heart Page 11

by Moore, S. Dionne


  She drifted. Memories touched her. So vague. She wanted to capture them, bring them into focus. She thought if she could touch them with her fingertips, they would bloom and grow. Instead they faded, writhed and twitched, and slid into the abyss with her.

  eighteen

  It had been a shaken Walt Price that had answered the sheriff’s questions as the doctor worked over Maira. Levi’s frantic tears had jerked Tanner from his daze. He’d pulled the fragile form into his arms, Levi’s tears wetting his shirt front as the boy gave vent to his fear just as he had the night Tanner had found him. It seemed so long ago now.

  After the doctor finished with Maira, he took Levi in to see his mother. He relished both the warmth and the connection the boy showed to his mother. “Will she be better? I want Mommy to wake up.” He’d collapsed into Tanner’s arms then, sobbing, and asked questions. Tanner answered every one of Levi’s questions as best he could. And all the while he kept the boy close, soothing as he had never been soothed. Finally, he tucked Levi in next to his mother and cautioned the boy to be careful not to jostle her.

  Levi slipped his hand beneath Maira’s. Tanner left him like that, knowing he had yet to face the sheriff’s conclusion on the entire matter. He had a few things to say about Price. He opened the door to see the men at the table. All eyes landed on him as he moved to the head of the table. Maira’s spot.

  Doc was saying his peace as Tanner sat. “. . .Not a bad wound, but she lost a lot of blood. Time will tell.”

  Sheriff Miller made the suggestion first. “I think, Price, you should plan on having your men pitch in on the roundup. Was your actions that put this grief into motion.” He turned his head as Tanner entered. “You’ll be in charge of the men. You and Frank can make the decisions Mrs. Cullen would normally make.”

  Frank agreed to the offer without hesitation. Tanner’s suspicions came to the forefront. “They’ll be watched at every turn. We’ve had some problems with our numbers, Sheriff.” Though he addressed Sheriff Miller, his eyes were on Walt. The man’s face blanched.

  “What are you trying to say?”

  He swung a leg over the bench and settled himself before responding. “You’ve sent men since Jon Cullen’s death. You want this ranch, Walt. You said as much to me, even sent me to spy on the owner in hopes you could use information against the rancher. Against Mrs. Cullen. A widow.”

  Sheriff Miller’s brows raised, his hazel eyes settled on Walt. “Heard as much in town that Carrot and Fletcher been working the cows here.”

  “Ask them about it then. Maybe they know something.” Walt seemed to deflate. “I wanted the ranch, but I wouldn’t steal her head.”

  “You have proof of this, Young?”

  He nodded toward Frank. “He can verify that Walt’s sent men over since Jon Cullen’s death.” He leaned forward and accepted the cup of coffee that was set in front of him, then in front of Frank. “I’m waiting for the final count to figure what’s been lost over the years.”

  “Your men honest, Price?”

  “ ’Course they’re honest. Wouldn’t hire ’em if I didn’t think so.”

  Tanner leaned forward. “Timmons has a chip on his shoulder about something.”

  “He’s used to being boss.”

  He held the rancher’s gaze and narrowed his eyes. “Time for him to learn to take orders.”

  Walt inclined his head. “I’ll tell him he’d better not cause problems.”

  “How soon can you get your men out here?” Sheriff Miller asked.

  Walt took a gulp of coffee and swiped a hand across his mouth. “I’ll send two more out. Carrot and Fletcher can stay here.”

  “If Mrs. Cullen doesn’t make it, you might be looking at time. I’ll have my deputy stay close to this area tonight and tomorrow.” The sheriff’s eyes shifted between Frank and Tanner. “Can he stay here?”

  “Plenty of room in the bunkhouse,” Frank offered.

  “It’s the best I can do under the circumstances.” The sheriff lifted his hat with a finger to scratch his forehead. “Does this satisfy the two of you?”

  Frank agreed. Tanner couldn’t bring himself to reply. He scooted the bench back, anger notching up with every footfall. His shirt rippled in the night breeze, stiff where Maira’s blood had drenched the front. Her rocker sat empty. He touched the front of his shirt, rubbed at the bloodstain there. He wanted to take back the moment when he’d faced Maira as she’d barreled toward them. If not for his reaction to seeing her, Walt’s nerves would not have shattered, and the bullet would never have been fired.

  The spring on the door hummed a warning. He glanced to see Sheriff Miller. “From all I’ve heard, it was an accident. Walt’s remorseful. I can’t haul him in on nothing, Tanner. You know that.”

  He pressed his lips together. “I know that.”

  “You want to talk about what’s eating you? The rustling?”

  He drew air into his lungs. “Jon Cullen.”

  “Jon. . . ?”

  Tanner turned at the surprise in the man’s voice. “He was murdered.”

  Miller stayed quiet.

  “I found him right after it happened.”

  “What’s to say you didn’t shoot him and are trying to place the blame elsewhere?”

  Temper flared then waned. No matter what he thought, Miller was right.

  “Who and what makes you think it was murder?”

  “He was shot in the side. Hoofprints were everywhere.”

  “You out hunting?”

  “Yeah. Had seen some cut fence, thought I’d look into it while I watched the XP cattle.”

  “This cut fence have to do with the rustling of Maira’s herd?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re assuming Jon wasn’t involved.”

  “Cutting his own fence?”

  “Framing his neighbor to get compensation.”

  “Not Jon.”

  “You seem certain of all this.” The big man shifted forward. “This needn’t become a vendetta against Price. You worked for the man to investigate your own theories?”

  “Part of the reason.”

  “And the other part?”

  “Jon Cullen was my brother.”

  ❧

  Beneath gentle hands, Maira struggled to open her eyes. She’d felt the hands on her side, then her face and forehead. She wanted so much to know who attended her with such gentleness. Jon? No. Jon was gone. Levi? He could never be silent for that long. Even as the longing swelled, the little bit of strength she possessed receded. Her side burned. She remembered the shot, twisting in the dirt, the numbness that permeated every inch of her before her mind blanked. She tried to move her fingers to touch the place that sent such heat through her body. Gunshot. Her mouth felt as if she’d inhaled the dirt stirred by a late-summer wind. She sighed. Nothing seemed to be working like she wanted, not her fingers or her mouth or her legs. And the terrible pain was swelling again. She winced as it crested. Heard a mewling sound. Then silence.

  She woke to a touch against her forehead. The same hands she’d felt earlier. But no, these were different. Rougher. Heavier somehow. There was something like a sob. Her hand was encompassed in warmth and rubbed against something rough. Wetness. She felt it and wanted to turn her head that direction. It would be Tanner. Had to be. There was a pain deep down inside him, and she wanted to know what it was. They’d been about to talk about it that night. Or had it been afternoon?

  “Tan-wer.”

  Levi.

  Her lips were dry. She moved them and felt a glorious victory for the effort. Words lodged in her throat but would not come. Her hand was released, and she tensed. The pain swelled. “Mommy, wake up!”

  Levi’s little hands touched her cheeks, patting as he often did.

  “Sh, you want to let her rest as much as possible. She’ll get stronger if she sleeps.”

  Little sobs reached her ears.

  “Shhh. . .” Tanner’s voice soothed the boy. “Let’s see wh
at Frank has for us to eat.”

  “Not hungry.”

  “You need to eat, Levi. Your mommy would frown at you if she heard you say that.”

  The voices faded, and she didn’t know if it was because they were leaving the room, or if she was.

  nineteen

  Tanner stood on the porch, coffee in hand. Frank had tried to get him to eat breakfast, but all he could think of was Levi, sitting on his little wooden seat, eyes red with the evidence of his worry. He had sat next to the boy and encouraged him to eat every bite Frank had set in front of him. Carrot and Fletcher had arrived as Frank scooped the last bite from his own plate into his mouth. At the presence of the men, Levi’s mood had perked. Tanner left the boy to help Frank get breakfast for the XP cowhands.

  He mulled his options, which were nonexistent. The boy was too small to take with them on the roundup, and someone had to care for Maira anyway. He dug his fingers into the point along his hairline where pressure mounted every passing minute. Frank had assured him he could ride and would be the eyes and ears to keep the XP hands honest, but Tanner feared Frank’s leg could only take so much.

  That Maira’s injury had been his fault plagued his every breath. He wanted to ride out. Needed the action and the distraction. He had no choice. Frank would go out alone with the men Walt sent. He would stay behind with Maira and Levi. He drank long and deep of his coffee, breathing in the steam, feeling the pressure in his head ease somewhat. Pale-gray dawn gave off a cold light. Around him was stillness. He squinted into the distance, catching movement. XP hands were riding in. He straightened, his mouth sour from the coffee.

  “You wanting to go?”

  Tanner jerked around to see Frank standing in the doorway. The cowhand let the door shut behind him, his tired eyes meeting Tanner’s. “I can keep watch over them as well as you. Been doing it for a long time.”

  “Riding might not be good for your leg.”

  “Is this about my leg or about something else?”

  Tanner frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Frank crossed his arms and leaned against the porch post. “You think that bronc busted more than my leg? That he busted my head, too? I can see how much Maira taking that bullet bothers you. As well it should. Maybe you should have been honest with her from the first you were kin.”

  He shouldn’t have been surprised that the sheriff had told Frank about his relationship to Jon Cullen. What the sheriff still did not know was the reason for his arrival on the Rocking J. That Walt Price had sent him over. Or maybe he did know. Walt might have told the sheriff to get the glare of the spotlight off himself.

  Anxiety bunched the muscles in his neck. He flicked his wrist and sprayed the remains of his coffee into the dirt of the yard. “What do you know?”

  “Probably not enough.”

  Clouds were moving in. Dark clouds, heavy with rain. Along the horizon he could see dark dots. Riders coming in. Three of them. Strange, hadn’t the sheriff only asked for two others to be sent? But Frank’s statement needed an answer, and he wondered if he should tell all or fabricate a story that would ensure Maira’s protection. Frank could be trusted. As he let his gaze fall over the older man, Frank’s brows lifted high.

  “Better make it a good lie, or, better yet, just give me the truth.”

  “I didn’t lie.”

  “Nor did you tell the truth.”

  “I have no evidence that Jon was murdered or that Rocking J cattle have been stolen. Still don’t.”

  “But you didn’t think it important for Maira to know you were Jon’s brother. That seems like something mighty important.”

  “Half brother. And I didn’t know at first she was his wife or Levi his son.”

  The cowhand’s mouth drooped. “How could you not know?”

  “I haven’t seen Jon for a long time.”

  Frank’s jaw worked hard. “What makes you think he was murdered?”

  Tanner suddenly wished he hadn’t tossed out his coffee. He wanted something to drink. An excuse to delay talking so he could order his thoughts first. “Jon went to town that day. When I met him, I thought something was familiar, but I hadn’t seen him since I was thirteen and he was five.”

  “You left home?”

  Home. Is that what he was supposed to have called it? The old bitterness of his mother’s remarriage so soon after his father’s death soured his mouth anew. But he had no right to be angry. It had been his mother’s choice. A wrong choice, maybe, but age had given him the understanding that a woman alone meant trouble. And she’d had him to think about. “You needed a pa, and I needed someone to shoulder the load or we’d lose the farm” had been her explanation the one time he’d asked her about it. Those words branded resentment into him, fueled further by the tongue-lashings his stepfather had freely rained down on his shoulders.

  “Jon begged me not to leave. He was five at the time and the apple of his Pa’s eye.” Despite their different fathers, Tanner had loved his little brother. He’d enjoyed having the boy toddle after him, then pester him to play games. He told Frank of the affection he had for Jon, but the pressure of his stepfather’s dissatisfaction with him had been a burden his young shoulders could no longer bear.

  “It took me a few minutes to realize who Jon was. When I asked him about his growing up years, that’s when I knew. Had me a beard then.” Tanner rubbed his sideburns and jaw. “Figured he would never know unless I told him.”

  “But what was he there for? And did he talk about needing money or gold?”

  “I had some gold. I gave him a pouch of it after realizing who he was. Figured our mama would approve. Told him to buy some head.”

  “He didn’t tell you about Maira?”

  “Never said a word. I didn’t even know where he lived.”

  He’d followed Jon out of town for a couple miles, getting a general direction for where his brother lived. He’d returned to the XP, to that corner of the property that met the neighboring ranch where he’d been tracking coyote when he found Jon’s body, the gold still on it.

  “I knew he’d been shot. Murdered. That Walt Price’s story was nothing more than a lie. Maybe he didn’t rustle cattle, but he helped fabricate that story to cover for whoever was doing it. That he stole the gold and that his horse got scared and bucked him. That hole in his head was from a bullet.”

  Frank winced. “Why didn’t you bury him?”

  Tanner laced his fingers and cracked his knuckles. “Two things. One, I had a mind to pick up signs, hoping to track whomever pulled the trigger before rain set in and wiped everything away, and two, a mountain lion appeared on the scene. Never gave me a chance to do much of anything except get off a shot and light a shuck out of there. I heard about the find the next day, which meant I was too late to do anything.”

  “Price told the sheriff you worked for him.”

  Tanner drew air into his lungs, eyes on the riders, every second making them more distinct. He could feel Frank’s disbelief and could understand the man being reluctant to trust what he was saying. “He hired me to come and spy on the owner of this ranch. I had no idea whose ranch it was. The money was good, and I was ready for a change.”

  “Funny how that detail didn’t make it into his explanation to the sheriff.”

  “That he sent me to spy?”

  Frank shifted his weight, glanced over his shoulder. Levi stood there, shirt soaked with water. Frank’s eyes cut to him, then back to the boy. How much had Levi heard? “You’re supposed to wash the dishes, not take a bath,” Frank said gently.

  “I can’t get more water.”

  “Let me help you.” Tanner followed Levi back to the dirty plates and grabbed up another bucket of the warm water. “You be careful you don’t burn yourself.”

  “It feels good.”

  Tanner chuckled. “Well, you’re supposed to clean the dishes, not yourself.”

  Levi lifted a dirty dish and plunged it into the water. Tanner leaned forwar
d and grabbed a bar of lye. Using a knife, he scraped some into the water. Levi plunged his hands in to stir everything around, making it clear how he got so wet. Tanner tousled his head. “I’m going to talk to Frank again.”

  The boy nodded over at the tub scooted into a corner of the kitchen. Maira had never gotten her bath. “Can I take a bath in that?”

  “Tonight.”

  He went back outside and sat across from Frank.

  “That boy. . . He could be yours.”

  Tanner exhaled, licked his dry lips. Frank’s gaze held his, and he knew in those few minutes he’d been gone to help the boy, the ranch hand had made his decision to trust Tanner.

  “God put you here, son. Plain and simple. Spy or not, you’re here, and you’ve helped, and it’s plain that you—”

  “I told Walt I wasn’t doing it,” Tanner spit the words. They felt bitter on his lips. “That I quit. It’s what got him riled.”

  “Reckon it would.” His eyebrow went up. “What made you change your mind?”

  Maira. Levi. His relationship to them both. The old guilt gnawed at his backbone. He swung his eyes back to the horizon. “We’ve got company.”

  They were too far out to allow an immediate distraction. Tanner left the porch anyway, crossing to the corral to work on saddling the horses needed for the day. Frank stayed put on the porch. He felt the man’s presence without turning to make sure he was right. When the XP riders entered the yard, Tanner left off saddling horses to greet them. A young woman was among them. For long seconds, Tanner tried to remember where he’d seen her. Strawberry hair. A thick layer of freckles across her nose. Ana. Walt’s “maid.”

  “Walt told her to make herself useful here” was Slim’s introduction as he and the other cowhand dismounted. “This here’s Roger and Ana.” Only when Roger was beside Ana’s horse did she dismount, but despite Roger’s proximity, the hand didn’t do a thing to help her down. Slim frowned at Roger and kept talking. “Price thought we should bring her out. He don’t want trouble, and Ana can care for the boy and the woman.”

 

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