Hearts Stolen (Texas Romance Series Book 2)

by Caryl McAdoo

Rose put one hand on the rail and waved at a boy fishing on the bank. She loved the Eagle, loved the deep rumble of the steam escaping out the tall stack, the churn and cascading water fleeing back to the river from the paddle wheel. “If the steamboat you and Levi took to Memphis as children really was grander than this, I don’t know if I could have even been comfortable aboard. Why, I’d surely have been like a long-tail cat under granny’s rocker.”

  Rebecca laughed.

  “This ride on the Eagle is like a slice of Heaven. That’s exactly what sailing down the Arkansas is, a right nice piece of God’s pure goodness. If only…”

  “I know it’s got to be hard, Rose. I can’t imagine.”

  “I keep praying. Oh, Lord, be merciful unto me a sinner. Make all things right. Fix it so that everyone involved walks away blessed. Soften Charles’ heart. Set me free.”

  “Me, too. And I have faith in Him that some way, somehow, He’ll work things out.”

  “But do I really have the right to ask the Almighty to end my marriage? Knowing He hates divorce? Charles hadn’t done anything wrong.”

  “He should have come looking for you.”

  “Oh, he’d probably just have got his hair lifted.” She pushed away from the rail, straightening her arms, and looked across the deck in both directions. “I can’t believe I actually even think that might not have been such a bad solution. Am I a monster?”

  “Of course not.” Her friend took her arm. “Come on, let’s head back inside. Things are going to work out. Levi said whatever it took, and if you can count on anything, you can count on that. Shall we see if they’re done yet, or hit the gift shop?”

  “The barber shop. Can you imagine the fit Charley pitched just because I wanted to go with them? He’s so stubborn and independent.”

  Rebecca strolled toward the barber’s. “I bit my tongue to keep from busting a gut when he told you him and his partners were going for a haircut and shave, and they didn’t need no woman with ‘em. And you knowing Levi will have the barber lather Charley up, too.”

  A smile worked its way to her lips. “I suppose that’s going to be my lot in life? Me against the menfolk.”

  “Well, at least you’re used to it growing up with five brothers.”

  Her hand cradled her belly. “Maybe I’ll have a baby Susannah; is that alright with you? I mean, Levi and I talked, but… You might want to name your baby girl–”

  “Heavens. No. That’d be such an honor to Mama. I’m glad you thought of it.” Rebecca stopped and turned toward her. “You’ve always been so thoughtful, and I’m so glad to have my friend back. I missed you.” She took up heading toward the barber shop again. “So tell me, what do you think of Wallace? And what about the new baby and Laura?”

  Before she could respond, from halfway across the room, Charley spotted her and broke into a run. Just before he reached her, he launched himself into her outstretched arms. “Me got ears low, Mama. Do you see?”

  She leaned back, nodded, then pulled him up close again. “You look great. Don’t forget to use I. I got my ears lowered.”

  He leaned back and looked at her with a puzzled expression. He turned her head and patted her bun. “No, you look same.”

  She laughed and hugged him tight some more. “So where’s your captain?” She almost called him daddy, wanted to, but had decided to stay with captain for the time being.

  “Him and Wallace jaw with the bar-bor. Him’s the cutter man.”

  “Is that right? What are they talking about?”

  He bobbed his head like a woodpecker after a fat bug. “Texkus joining – um – the uh – Me no know. Something.”

  “The Union?”

  “Yes, ma’am! Him.”

  “Thank you for using your good manners, but you called yourself me again.” Men and politics, so boring, “You getting hungry yet, sweetheart?”

  “Yes. Come on Miss Rebecca. Me ‘sposed.” He grinned and his little eyes sparkled. “I ‘sposed to get her and you.” He squirmed free and grabbed her hand and Rebecca’s. “Captain Bay-lor say get a table, too, in the dining room, and him and Wallace would meet there.” He tugged on her hand. “Now come. I gotta get a table.”

  “Charley, you are not the boss of me. Slow down, and we’ll all go together nicely.”

  Her friend smiled at her then wiggled Charley’s hand. “See here, little man, it isn’t polite for a lady to hurry too fast.”

  Soon, she and Rebecca sipped sweet tea, and Charley guzzled a sarsaparilla. A shadow danced across her soul. She twisted sideways. A man with a fancy pointed little beard dressed in a dapper corduroy suit, starched high-collared shirt, string tie, and sporting a top hat walked straight toward her. She looked away.

  “Excuse me, ma’am. Are you Red Rose?”

  Charley jumped up and ran toward the gent. The boy stopped short and kicked the dandy in the shin. “You a bad whiskey man! Mama! Give me the Baby!”

  Rose reached for her handbag.

  The man glared at Charley and cursed. He drew back his hand. “Why, you little brat.” He brought his arm down, palm spread flat toward the boy, but mid swing, a hand grabbed his forearm and spun him around.

  Levi stared at him, his hackles up and his back bowed. She hated the look in his eyes.

  Oh, Lord, don’t let him ever look at me like that.

  Wallace stood right behind him.

  The man looked startled. “The kid kicked me.”

  Levi pulled his duster back, revealing his holstered Patterson. “You like living, mister, best move along.”

  “Captain Bay-lor! Him’s the whiskey man! Shoot him! Shoot him dead!”

  Rose jumped to her feet and scooped up her son. “Hold it, everyone. Let’s all calm down.” She faced the man. “The boy mistook you for someone else, sir. Please forgive us.”

  Charley kicked and took her face in both his hands. “No, Mama. Him bad whiskey man. You ‘member?”

  Levi stepped in front of her. “That right, fella? You been selling rotgut to the Comanche?”

  “Yes!” The boy crossed his arms over his chest. “You dead man now. Him Captain Bay-lor. Texkus Ranger.”

  Rose hated the steel in Levi’s voice. Would he kill the man over Charley calling him a whiskey man?

  “You Levi Baylor?”

  “What of it?”

  “Well, that confirms this lady is Red Rose just like I thought.” The guy retreated a step but squared his shoulders. “Bold Eagle said Houston broke that treaty. He wants his prize wife and blue-eyed boy back. Paying a right nice reward for their return.”

  Chapter

  Thirty-Three

  Levi waited until the man strolled out of sight then turned. Wallace threw a nod in the fellow’s direction. Levi would love having his partner take care of the guy, but instead, he shook his head. “He’s harmless.”

  “Bold Eagle ain’t.”

  “We’ll deal with him by and by.” He took the boy from his mother’s arms and nuzzled his neck. “You got a good eye, little partner.”

  He grinned. “Me want my own Baby.”

  “Time enough for that. Right now, we’ve got dinner to eat.”

  “When’s time ‘nuff? Me need my own gun.” He tossed a nod at his mother. “Me tell her, give me Baby. She not.”

  Levi spent a big part of that day fending off Charley’s when and why questions. Man, persistent should be the little guy’s middle name. Finally, he fell asleep, and Levi took him to his mother who visited with Rebecca in their room. He wanted to join them, use the bad whiskey man’s presence on board to spend the night with the ladies, but that wouldn’t do, so he didn’t even mention it.

  Of course, the boy wanted a pistol of his own. Levi didn’t dare tell him that he’d had his dad’s musket since the age of five, but that was way back then. Aunt Sue didn’t have much option but to teach him how to shoot the thing. He grinned remembering its heavy weight. He could barely pick it up, but he learned.

  Maybe he’d give the long gun to Ch
arley. An image of the boy dragging the thing around put a smile in his heart, but it couldn’t crowd out the knowledge that Bold Eagle wanted Rose and the boy. Good thing she wasn’t showing yet.

  A part of him wanted to hunt the war chief down and shoot him like a rabid dog, but murder was still against the law, and a Texas Ranger Captain had no business killing folks, no matter what color their skin. Used to, he could send Wallace, but since the man went and found religion or faith or whatever he called it—anyway, he wouldn’t do that, even if entertaining the thought obliged a certain pleasure.

  No, he’d have to wait. One day though, he’d meet the Comanche chief again; knew it sure as he loved Rose. Like someone somewhere wrote it in stone that by duty, he must deal with both of his love’s past husbands. And deal with them he definitely would, because he intended on being her husband for the rest of his life.

  Wallace opened the door all the way then sat on the edge of the bed and jerked off a boot. “I’m hoping that idiot goes and does something stupid. He needs killing.”

  Levi stepped over and closed it to only a few inches, wide enough to see the ladies’ door, then pulled the desk chair over to the wall where he also had a good view down the corridor toward the stairs. “You find out what room he’s in?”

  “Two decks down, room five.”

  “What name did he book passage under?”

  “John Smith, but a guy in the bar called him Hawk.”

  Levi dug into his duster’s inner pocket and pulled out the flyers. “Seems to me I remember something about a Hawk Smith.”

  Wallace fluffed the pillows then eased down onto the bed without bothering to pull back the covers. “Don’t know. Doesn’t ring any of my bells.”

  While his partner got busy sawing logs, Levi studied the flyers looking for any reference to a Hawk Smith. Then like a yellowed autumn leaf in the breeze, the folded note that fiddler gave him back in Henderson slipped from the stack and fluttered to the floor. He’d never read what the young man claimed was the old guy’s last words.

  He picked up the piece of paper. A part of him never wanted to read it; truth be known, he wanted to burn it instead. But he unfolded it then lit the oil lamp on the dresser table.

  ‘Son of Jacob. Beware the Hawk and the Eagle. Trust in the Lord, and He will give you your heart’s desires.’

  An icy shiver ran through his soul, slowed his heartbeat. How could that old shaman know his father’s name? Or that Hawk Smith or Bold Eagle meant him harm? He folded the omen and put it back in his inside pocket.

  A floorboard creaked, then another. He put his hand on the Paterson and eased toward the bed. He touched Wallace’s socked foot. His partner sat up, instantly awake. Levi motioned toward the hall then touched his ear. He resisted the urge to blow out the lamp, and instead tiptoed toward the open door with the sergeant close on his heels.

  Barely audible footfalls neared. He stepped closer to the crack, but stayed in the shadows. A hand reached out toward the ladies’ doorknob. Once the man’s fingers touched the brass, Levi sprang. Dressed in buckskins, Hawk Smith wheeled toward him.

  Levi closed the distance. He raised his pistol and slammed the Paterson’s barrel into the man’s coonskin hat. Hawk threw up his forearm, but couldn’t block the blow. Steel against skull bone crumpled the man, who slithered to the floor.

  Wallace stepped past, grabbed the no good’s wrist and flipped him over. He tied the whiskey man’s hands behind his back, then pulled him to his feet. “You find any reward out on this skunk?”

  “No.” Levi shoved him forward. “Let’s take him to the ship’s captain.”

  Rose put her fork down. “Did you get any sleep at all last night?”

  “No, ma’am.” Levi smiled, but void of any mirth in his tired-looking eyes.

  “How about I stand watch, and you rest?”

  He took a sip of coffee. “Maybe later. You remember that old man from the church meeting in Henderson?”

  “Sure, if you’re talking about the one who seemed to know so much about Charley. Why you asking?”

  “What did you make of him?”

  “Hmmm. I don’t know, Levi. It seemed to me like he knew God real well.” She sipped her apple cider. “I’ve always heard the Lord works in mysterious ways. Why?”

  “Auntie said that a lot, too—about the mysterious ways. Is it in the Bible?”

  “I think so.” Rose could almost hear Miss Sue saying it, like that served as her answer for anything she couldn’t rightly explain.

  She almost wished he hadn’t reminded her of the things the strange old man had said that night. Though she’d never forgotten, not completely, she’d been able to stow it way back in her mind where it didn’t pester her every day.

  “But why are you asking, sweetheart? What made you think of that old man?”

  “Last night. Right before Smith came calling.” He stopped again and stared at his coffee.

  Would he ever get it out? Why was he having such a hard time?

  He looked up. “I found the old man’s note—or it found me. Went to looking for a flyer on Hawk, and the note fell out of the stack.” He fished it out of his duster’s inner pocket and held it toward her. “That next day, when the fiddler gave me the note, he claimed the guy wrote it then died. Supposedly, his last words.” He shrugged and looked like a confused little boy.

  God love his heart. She wanted to hold him.

  “Guess I stuck it in my pocket with the flyers and forgot about it; hadn’t read it before last night.”

  She opened the note and read it aloud. “Son of Jacob. Beware the Hawk and the Eagle. Trust in the Lord, and He will give you your heart’s desires.” She studied him a moment. “Seems like good advice.”

  “Wallace didn’t talk with the old boy, did he? I mean that you know about? You think he told him anything at all concerning me, us?”

  “No, dear, not a word that I know of. I don’t think he even had an opportunity. Wallace and Laura were visiting with a young couple, and I was carrying Charley back to camp when the guy came my way.”

  “Laura ever say anything to you about her—or Wallace—talking to him?”

  “No, not a word. She never mentioned him, not to me.”

  Levi blew out his breath. Where could he be going with all this? She’d never seen him so unnerved.

  “Well, not too many folks even know my father’s name, and until this afternoon, I had no idea Bold Eagle or this Hawk guy were looking to lift my hair and steal you and Charley back.”

  “The eagle… You’re thinking Bold Eagle.” Gooseflesh rose on both arms and legs as a witness and confirmed truth to her heart.

  He twisted his mouth and gave a nod. “And the whiskey man goes by Hawk, Hawk Smith. Beware the hawk and the eagle.”

  “Lord in Heaven. How…” She touched his hand. “Well, he can’t have your hair or Charley’s, and for sure, he can’t have me. If Bold Eagle knows what’s good for him, he’ll forget about all of us.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up the slightest fraction; it seemed he wanted to say something else, but couldn’t get it out. Instead, he stared into her eyes, so she searched his. It hurt her heart for him to be so troubled, but she didn’t know what to say. The sound of little boots caught his attention away from her. Charley raced toward his Cap-tain Baylor, then stopped short when the man held out his hand.

  “Easy, partner. Remember, no running.”

  The boy ducked his head and slow-walked the last few steps. “Yes, sir. Me go slow.” He climbed into the chair next to the man. It nicked her heart, but he was only doing the same as her, trying to get as close to Levi as possible.

  Oh, Lord, You know how much I love him. Please open the door, make a way for us to be together forever, please. A thought wiggled into her heart. It almost choked her, but she closed her eyes and considered it. Could she? Had to. But Father, Your will, not mine be done.

  For a few beats of her heart, a black cloud hovered over her soul, then a wa
rmth spread from her innermost being through the whole of her, and she knew. With everything in her, she knew it would all work out. A peace settled over her like one of Granny’s heavy quilts. She studied her son and the man she loved and smiled.

  Levi tucked the napkin into the boy’s shirt, then looked to Rose. “What are you grinning about?”

  She slipped her hand into his and squeezed. “Us, it’s all going to be good.”

  He nodded, but how many men would walk with the ghosts that stalked his dreams to make that happen? He’d given his word to her, and either it would all work out, or he’d die in the doing. A life without her and Charley would be like Uncle Henry never marrying Aunt Sue.

  At her and his sister’s insistence, he tried a nap, but his mind wouldn’t be quiet long enough. He did manage to doze some that night, but couldn’t stay in bed. With each wink or nod, an owl’s hoot or coyote’s yelp woke him.

  The following nights only got worse. All the dead dream walkers appeared one at a time as usual. They all joined up with Bold Eagle and the Hawk, and no matter how many times he killed them again, they kept coming from every direction.

  The last night before St Louis, he let Rose talk him into a hot toddy. Didn’t figure it’d work, but her concern over the bags under his eyes convinced him to take his medicine—for her sake—like the good boy she wanted him to be.

  As the other nights before, the horde of dead men encircled him and his little family. For the longest, he battled his ghosts, then a winged man flew right toward him. He circled over the horde once, then landed right next to Levi and folded his wings. The being faced the attackers. “Be gone.”

  His words, like cannon shot, propelled the dead men backwards until they disappeared all together. The being faced Levi. His face looked like the man who had written the note, only younger. He smiled. “Levi Bartholomew Baylor, put your trust in the Lord. Do not lean to your own understanding, and he will give you all the desires of your heart.”

  “But how? How can I? I’ve killed so many men.” He searched the icy blue eyes of the winged man. “I don’t even know the number. God wouldn’t, He couldn’t forgive me. No more than I was willing to forgive Him for taking my Pa.”