Badlands Legend

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  Chapter Seven

  Yale leaned a hip against a rock and watched as Cara moved around the fire, adding wood to the hot coals, turning the spit on which the rest of the meat was roasting.

  There was such simple grace in every movement. The way she bent forward to adjust the cooking pole, the way she shook down her skirts when she stepped back from the fire.

  He’d had plenty of occasions to observe exotic women in gentlemen’s clubs, to see close-up some of the most beautiful females employed in big-city saloons. Many of them had been gowned in silks and satins, smelling of the finest perfumes, and coached in the ways of pleasing a man. And yet none of them had ever touched his heart the way this one simple woman did.

  He’d never expected to see her again. He’d carried the image of her in his heart all these years. The shy, sweet beauty, too timid to defy her parents, too afraid to risk what he’d offered. But the pretty girl she’d been couldn’t hold a candle to the graceful woman she’d become. In many ways she was still shy and sweet. He’d tasted her sweetness in that kiss. A kiss that he couldn’t get out of his mind. It teased and tantalized him, making him ache for more.

  But there were new strengths in her as well. He’d seen the way she’d faced up to a dozen rifles when her children were threatened. The way she’d braved a wall of flame in order to save them from a fiery grave. And he’d seen the pain in her eyes at the thought of leaving behind all that was familiar for the unknown. But she’d done so, without complaint, when it became necessary.

  Needing to do something, he took a cigar from his pocket and lifted a flaming stick from the fire, holding it to the tip. He exhaled a cloud of rich, fragrant smoke before tossing the stick onto the fire.

  “I’m sorry about your parents, Cara. How did they die?”

  She lifted her head. Tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “My father had a stroke and lingered for more than a year. Not long after he passed on, my ma took sick. It wasn’t easy with Cody and Seth both needing me, but I did the best I could to care for her. She held on for a few months longer. Then…our fortune took a turn for the worse, and Wyatt and I were forced to leave Misery. We took what furniture we could haul in a wagon, and took up ranching on a little piece of land that Wyatt owned a hundred miles distant.”

  She looked away, and Yale realized she was thinking about the fact that everything from her childhood was now gone for good. What little she’d been able to salvage would have been destroyed by the fire back at the cabin.

  “And your husband?” The word nearly stuck in his throat. But he needed to know. Was hungry for every detail of her life.

  “He was thrown from his horse. When his mare came home without him the children and I went out searching. It took us two days before we found him. We probably never would have, if it hadn’t been for the buzzards circling a rock ledge halfway down the side of a cliff. He was still alive, but by the time I managed to haul him up with the aid of ropes tied to our plow horse, it was too late. He died in my arms. With the children around him. I guess it was the shock of his death that robbed Seth of his voice. He hasn’t spoken one word since.”

  “I’m sorry, Cara.”

  She swallowed. “Ma used to say life is hard in the Dakotas. I’ve often wondered if it gets easier in other places.”

  Yale shook his head. “I’ve been other places. I don’t think it makes any difference. Life is the same no matter where you go.”

  She brightened. “Tell me about the places you’ve been, Yale.”

  He drew on his cigar, thinking. “Most of the territories. Wyoming. Montana. Up into Canada. I went as far west as California one year.”

  “California.” She spoke the word on a sigh. “Did you see San Francisco?”

  He nodded.

  Without thinking she stepped closer and touched a hand to his. “Is it as beautiful as they say?”

  He looked down at the small hand touching his and wondered if she felt the same rush of heat that he was experiencing.

  “I guess you could say it’s beautiful. At least the color of its money is.”

  “Then it’s true that the people are all rich.”

  He shook his head. “There are some who are very rich. And they’re more than willing to part with their money.” He gave her that quick, dangerous smile. “As a gambler, I appreciated their generosity. But there are a lot more who are destitute. They’ve come from other lands, hoping to find a city paved with gold. Believe me, I’d rather be poor in the Dakotas than poor in a city filled with men desperate enough to slit your throat for a penny.”

  At his words she gasped and brought a hand to her own throat. “Did you see such men?”

  “A time or two. But mostly I saw the saloons and pleasure palaces. In San Francisco, no matter the time of day or night, a determined gambler can always find a game of chance and a few generous souls willing to part with their money.”

  “It’s true then? That’s all you do for a living? Gamble?”

  He nodded, wondering why that little note of censure in her tone should rankle.

  “Why did you leave California, if you found it so satisfying?”

  He stared at the glowing tip of his cigar. “Wanderlust, I suppose. I’ve never been able to stay in one place very long. I haven’t decided if that’s a blessing or a curse.”

  She ducked her head. “I envy you the ability to pick up and go whenever you please.”

  “You shouldn’t. Don’t ever envy me, Cara.” He touched a hand to hers. The merest touch. But he saw her head come up sharply. Saw the wary look that came and went in those wide honey eyes.

  He thought about ignoring the quick sexual jolt to his system. This wasn’t the time or place. But then, that had never mattered to him before. Besides, it was too late. The need was too strong.

  He tossed the cigar into the fire. In one smooth motion his hands were at her shoulders, drawing her firmly, inexorably toward him. His mouth was already seeking hers. When his lips covered hers he heard her little moan of pleasure.

  And was lost.

  How had he lived so long without this? How had he faced each new day without this woman in his arms? How was it possible to draw a breath, without first tasting this sweetness?

  As he took the kiss deeper Cara couldn’t seem to stop her heart from hitching, or her hands from moving up his chest. His tongue flicked over hers, sending little darts of pleasure straight through her core. It occurred to her that he knew a great deal about how to kiss a woman. And though she’d been a wife, she knew little about pleasing a man.

  She hated the way her body was reacting. Blood heating until it flowed like lava through her veins. Bones growing so soft and pliant, she wasn’t certain how much longer she could stand before she would simply slide to the floor. And her poor heart. Pounding in her chest as though it would surely explode.

  He changed the angle of the kiss. Took it deeper. As he brought his hands up her sides his thumbs skimmed the tips of her breasts, sending the most amazing sensations skittering along her spine.

  He thrilled to the way she shivered. As he drew her closer he could actually feel the tiny tremors that rocked her.

  With an effort he lifted his head, though what he really wanted to do was simply kiss her until they were both beyond reason.

  His voice, when he finally spoke, was gruffer than he’d intended. “You’d better get some sleep now.”

  “I…yes.” Confusion darkened her eyes as she turned away.

  He stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. Even that small touch brought a trembling response.

  He struggled to soften his tone. “I’ll wake you and the children in a couple of hours. We’ll travel while it’s still dark.”

  She didn’t turn to look at him, afraid he would read the desire that still shimmered in her eyes. “What if Fenner anticipates that?”

  “It’s a risk we’ll have to take.”

  She nodded. “As you said, you’re very good at taking risks. But I have my sons to think
about.”

  He said nothing as she crossed to where her children were sleeping and lay down beside them. He watched as she wrapped herself in her shawl and rolled to her side, keeping her face hidden from view.

  He decided to climb up to the opening and keep an eye out for campfires in the distance. It would give him a chance to breathe cool night air. And maybe give his heart a rest, as well.

  His hands, he noted, were shaking. And the sweet taste of her was still on his lips.

  “Cara.”

  Yale’s voice was little more than a whisper, but she was awake instantly. She sat up, uncomfortably aware of how her body brushed his as she drew the shawl around her shoulders.

  Instead of moving aside he remained where he was, absorbing the warmth of her body. She looked pleasantly disheveled, her hair spilling around her face in a tangle of curls, her eyes still heavy-lidded from sleep.

  “It’s time to leave.” He stood and offered his hand.

  As he helped her to her feet she felt the strength in him. And the heat. It seemed to be always there, simmering between them.

  “I’ll wake the children.”

  As she turned away she noticed that the fire had been allowed to burn down to embers. The deer meat, fully cooked, had already been cut up into small bundles, and wrapped in the deerskin before being loaded into the cart.

  As soon as the boys were up she folded the bearskin and spread it in the back of the cart.

  After spreading dirt over the hot coals to extinguish any fire that might remain, Yale moved aside the brush and tree branches that had covered the mouth of the cave.

  He helped Cody and Seth into the back of the cart, then assisted Cara up to the seat before climbing up beside her and flicking the reins.

  Outside the cave, the sky was black as midnight. Giant boulders loomed around them, dwarfing the little cart and its occupants. The children were soon asleep, lulled by the sound of the horse’s hooves, and the slow, jarring movement of the cart as it rolled across the barren landscape.

  Cara’s voice was a hushed whisper in the night. “Do you think the Fenner gang will stay on our trail? Or do you think they’ll give up on us and head off in another direction?”

  Yale toyed with the idea of sugarcoating his reply, to give her some peace of mind. But in the end he merely said, “Their intention had been to use your ranch as a hideout until the soldiers who are chasing them gave up the search. Now, with that plan ruined, they have to keep moving, or risk being caught. And since they’re in a mood to teach me a lesson, I figure they’ll keep on my trail for as long as it takes.”

  “Why are soldiers after them?”

  “They stopped a train, and killed the conductor and engineer.”

  She turned to study his profile. “Were you with them?”

  “No. I was busy doing what I do best. Beating some cowboys out of their wages in a nearby saloon. When I heard what had happened, I knew I had to part company with Will Fenner and his men.”

  “How did you come to join them in the first place?”

  He told her about the shoot-out, and his introduction to the gang. “I thought one of them might know something about my father.”

  “You’ve never found him?”

  He shook his head.

  Cara lay a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Yale. It must be hard, never knowing what happened to him.”

  He thought he could shrug off her sympathy the way he always had in the past. But he felt an odd tightness in his throat. “It’s pure foolishness. I can’t imagine it would do me much good now to find some broken-down old man. After all these years, the only thing we’d ever share is the same last name.”

  “But you can’t help searching, Yale.” She kept her hand on his arm. Squeezed. “It’s the not knowing that drives you.”

  “Yeah.” He turned his head. Moonlight glittered in his eyes, turning them to icy chips of blue. “I’ve always hated not knowing whether he’s alive or dead. Whether he’d abandoned us, or made a real effort to make it back. It shouldn’t matter, but it does.”

  “I can understand that.” She lifted her head and studied the blaze of starlight. “My father made a lot of mistakes in his life. Some of them…hurtful. But now that I have children of my own, I realize that he did what he thought was right, because he loved me and wanted to protect me.” She forced herself to look at Yale. To keep her hand on his arm, though the mere touch of him had heat dancing along her spine. “I’ve always had the satisfaction of knowing that my father, for all his faults, loved me. I can’t imagine what it would be like to always wonder where he was, and what sort of man he was, and whether or not I mattered in his life.”

  “That’s the worst of it.” He closed a hand over hers. “Though I’ve never put it into words.”

  As they rolled across a high plateau, a coyote sang its mournful song to the moon. A night bird called to its mate and the answering notes were high and sweet. Insects hummed and chirped, adding to the rhythm of the horse’s hooves and the sounds of the cart’s wheels on the hard-packed earth.

  Yale felt something he’d rarely experienced in his life. Oh, he’d known often that keen edge of excitement during a high-stakes poker game. And the satisfaction of winning the jackpot. But this was a very different feeling. With Cara here beside him, he felt a rare sense of peace. As though every road he’d taken had been leading him toward this time, this place.

  And though the stakes were much higher this time around, he had no choice but to play the hand that had been dealt him. For he truly believed that the woman beside him and her children were now his responsibility.

  He was prepared to risk whatever it took, even his life, to save theirs.

  Chapter Eight

  As the first silver streaks of dawn began to light the sky, they spotted the remains of a barn in the distance.

  Cara looked up hopefully. “Maybe we could stay the day in there?”

  Yale shook his head. “Too obvious. That’s the first place Fenner would look.”

  He could see the weariness etched in her face and hated that he had to be the one to snatch hope from her grasp.

  He touched a hand lightly to her shoulder. “I promise you, we’ll find a safe haven.”

  They had to. With every passing minute, the sky would grow lighter and they would become an easier target.

  Yale’s gaze scanned the horizon, searching for something, anything that might offer them refuge. But all he could see was earth and rock and sky. And in the distance, the brooding Black Hills.

  He flicked the reins, urging the horse into a trot. If he didn’t find anything else, they could always take shelter in the forest. It would mean another day without sleep for him, for he would have to keep an eye out for Fenner and his gang, and move Cara and her family deeper into the woods if danger drew near.

  The children, wakened by the quickening pace, sat up and stared around at the unfamiliar countryside.

  Cody rubbed his eyes. “Where are we, Ma?”

  “We’re just coming into the Black Hills.” She pointed up ahead to the dark and somber mountain peaks looming on the horizon.

  “Are there any ranches around here?” the boy asked.

  Yale glanced over his shoulder. “No ranchers, son. But a few miners are still here. And Sioux, though most have been driven off their land by the men searching for gold.”

  The little boy’s eyes widened. “Did you ever think about coming here and digging for gold?”

  Yale chuckled. “I like gold as much as the next man. But I prefer mine clean and neatly piled at a gaming table. The thought of digging for it just never appealed to me.”

  He maneuvered the horse and cart between narrow boulders and started down a ravine when he suddenly brought the horse to a halt.

  “What’s wrong?” Cara looked at him in alarm.

  “Nothing’s wrong. I just want to take a look at something.” He leapt to the ground and walked some distance before disappearing. When he returned a short time l
ater he was wearing a broad smile.

  “I just found the perfect place to spend the day.” He caught the reins and began leading the horse toward what looked like nothing more than a small depression in the ground. But as they entered, they discovered they were inside an abandoned mine.

  Yale had taken the time to light a torch, which he’d stuck between two braces in the wall. Now, as they moved deeper into the mine shaft, they could see glimmers of daylight here and there, punctuated by patches of darkness.

  He stopped the horse and reached up to help the children from the back of the cart. Then he moved to the other side and helped Cara down.

  “There was probably a shack directly above us at one time.” He pointed to a crude ladder that lay resting against one wall. “The miner could enter his mine shaft from a trap door inside the cabin. That’s why we almost missed seeing the outer entrance. He must have dug it in such a way that no one would be tempted to sneak in here and steal from him. I think with the aid of a few small rocks and some tree branches, I’ll be able to make it as invisible as it once was.”

  While Cara and the children unloaded their meager belongings, Yale worked quickly to conceal the outer entrance to the mine. After rolling a couple of boulders into place and tossing dried twigs and branches around them, he examined his handiwork. When he was satisfied that no one could spot it, he made a thorough study of the surrounding area and found that only bits of the miner’s cabin remained. Fire and weather had reduced it to rubble. Nature had already begun concealing what remained, with shrubs and tufts of grass working their way through the sod floor, where bones attested to the fact that the prospector who had dug this mine had been dead a good many years.

  He returned to the mine shaft, taking the torch with him, and found Cara preparing breakfast, while the two children stared around at the gloom.

  “Want to take a look at where you’ll be spending the rest of the day?”

  Though Seth looked curious, Cody held back. “No. It’s dark in there.”

  “Don’t be afraid.” Yale lifted a torch high enough to pierce the gloom.