Badlands Legend

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  Cody answered while his younger brother stifled a yawn. “Tell Seth’s favorite. The one about the son who leaves his family and squanders all his talents.”

  “Oh. The Prodigal Son.” She crossed her feet at the ankles and folded her hands in her lap as she began to tell the old, familiar tale of the son who demanded his share of his inheritance, only to travel to foreign lands where it was eventually used up, until he found himself alone and destitute.

  As she spoke Yale took up a position near the entrance to the mine, keeping his gaze fastened on the gathering darkness. But as the minutes passed, he could feel himself being drawn into the tale. Cara’s voice, as soft as when she’d been a girl, washed over him, touching a chord deep inside. He’d always loved the sound of her voice. The slight breathiness. The rhythm. The cadence. As he got caught up in the story, he realized it was one from his own childhood. He could recall his mother reciting that same tale.

  Always, his brother Gabe had cheered for the good son, who had remained on his father’s land, caring for the herds. Their little sister Kitty had often declared that she would forgive a brother anything, as long as the family could be reunited. For himself, Yale had always had a special fondness for the Prodigal. He understood the wanderlust that would drive a man to travel to distant lands. Perhaps he’d gone in search of something he couldn’t find at home. Adventure. Excitement. Freedom. Respect. Or perhaps he’d simply wandered the world to escape the pain of rejection.

  He heard Cara’s words as she neatly ended the story.

  “The father called together his friends and family and asked them to rejoice with him because what had been lost to him was now found. The son who had been dead to him was now alive, and had returned to the family who loved him.”

  Cody’s voice sounded muffled and sleepy. “Seth wants to know if they lived happily ever after.”

  “Yes, honey.” Cara leaned down to press a kiss to her son’s cheek.

  “Will we, Ma?”

  Cara brushed the hair from his eyes. “Yes, Cody. We will.”

  The boy rolled to his side, a hint of annoyance in his tone. “If I was his father I would have made him pay his brother all the money he’d lost before I’d take him back.”

  “I hope when you’re old enough to be a father you change your mind, Cody.” Cara tucked the bearskin around her son’s shoulders to hold back the chill. “The wonderful thing about family is that we’re allowed to make mistakes and still be loved.”

  “Did you still love Pa after he lost Grandpa’s ranch in a poker game?”

  At the boy’s words Yale went perfectly still. It dawned on him that Cara had held back some vital parts of her life story.

  He glanced across the distance and could see, in the shadows, the way Cara gave careful consideration before saying softly, “Yes. I still loved him.”

  “But I heard you tell him he’d squandered your inheritance.”

  “I…was angry. But afterward, I forgave him.”

  “Like the father in the story you just told us?”

  “Yes. Like the father.” Cara sat beside her children for long minutes, until their breathing grew soft and rhythmic. Then she got to her feet and shook down her skirts.

  When she glanced toward Yale he was still peering into the darkness, the rifle in his hand. He gave no outward sign that he’d overheard. But there was no way he could have missed what Cody had said.

  Squaring her shoulders she walked up beside him. “I owe you an explanation.”

  “You don’t owe me anything, Cara.”

  “Yes I do.” She took in a breath. “Now that Wyatt is gone, I’m trying to keep a certain image of him alive for his children.”

  Yale’s eyes, though still fixed on the distance, narrowed slightly. “So a little thing like the fact that he lost your father’s ranch in a poker game is now to be forgotten?”

  She shrugged. “Something like that. Yale…” She touched a hand to his arm and felt him stiffen.

  His tone was harsh. “Are you wondering if I was the gambler who won your father’s ranch, Cara? Do you think I’m the one who stole your inheritance at a poker table?”

  “Of course not. I know who beat Wyatt out of my ranch. It was Buck Reedy.”

  Yale made a sound that might have been a laugh or grunt of anger. “Good old Buck. Still palming cards and dazzling the locals with his talent.” He turned to meet her eyes. “Does your son know this? Or does he think I’m the one who beat his father at poker?”

  She lifted a hand to her mouth. “Oh, Yale. I never thought of that.”

  “Didn’t you?” His eyes blazed. “To a boy that young, one gambler is the same as another. No wonder he resents me so deeply. He’ll never know for certain if I’m the man who stole his mother’s inheritance, and played his father for a fool.”

  “Then I’ll tell him the truth. But I…need some time. I’ve tried so hard not to say anything unkind about Wyatt to Cody. He needs…” She took a breath. “A boy needs to think highly of his father. Especially a father who is no longer here to defend his own reputation.”

  “Yeah.” Yale turned away from her, his eyes scanning the horizon. “I guess that’s what my mother was thinking when she told us our father was off on a secret mission for the President. Somehow that was a lot easier to swallow than learning he was an outlaw.”

  “But Wyatt wasn’t an outlaw. He was simply a good man who…discovered a weakness in himself.” Cara lowered her head. “Oh, I don’t know anymore. I’m so confused. I thought I was right to protect his good name. I told myself I was doing it for his children. But maybe I was really doing it for myself. So I wouldn’t feel like such a fool.”

  Yale shot her a quick look. “Why should you feel like a fool over something your husband did?”

  “Don’t you see the irony in all this, Yale?” Her voice lowered with emotion. “I allowed myself to be married off to a man I didn’t love because my parents thought he was fine and upstanding and respectable, only to discover that he was weak and selfish and incapable of taking care of his family. And all this time I’ve had to live with the knowledge that I’d given up a good, honest decent man, a man I loved, because he was a wild, reckless gambler whose very boldness frightened me.”

  His eyes were hot and fierce as he gripped her upper arms almost painfully. “Say that again.”

  “That you frightened me? You did. You still do, Yale.”

  “No.” He dragged her close, his eyes never leaving hers. “That you loved me.”

  “I did. I’ve…never stopped.”

  For the space of several seconds he merely stared at her, trying to take it all in. Then slowly, so slowly she felt her heart begin to stutter and her throat go dry, he lowered his mouth to hers.

  This wasn’t at all like the hard, quick kiss they’d shared before. This time he poured himself into it. Like a man starved for the taste of her.

  Feeling the way she held back, he tasted and nibbled, allowing her to slide slowly into the kiss.

  “Yale.” She brought her hands to his chest. “We shouldn’t.”

  “It’s too late.” He smiled, and she could feel her heart tumble wildly. “I just have to kiss you, Cara.”

  He returned to her lips. But this time she could feel the passion. Could taste the need, as he took the kiss deeper, until her head was swimming.

  He caught her fists and opened them, lifting her palms to press a kiss to each. Then he looked into her eyes. “Kiss me back, Cara. Quick. Before I die of hunger.”

  “Oh, Yale.” She gave a laugh, then wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe to cover his lips with hers. She heard his quick intake of breath a second before his arms banded around her, molding her to the length of him.

  She wasn’t prepared for the heat. For the sudden flash of light behind her closed eyes, or the slide of liquid fire deep inside. Hadn’t expected this quick slice of panic that had her by the throat, or the hot, hungry need.

  Her laughter died, replace
d by a low moan that seemed, to her ears, more animal than human.

  “I want you, Cara. I’ve never stopped wanting you.” With his eyes steady on hers he backed her up until she was pressed against the wall of the mine.

  She could feel the imprint of his body on hers. Was aware of his arousal. And of her body’s urgent response.

  This time she was taken fully into the kiss. A kiss that was all fire and flash and need. His tongue found hers, mated, while his hands moved over her, igniting tiny sparks along her spine.

  He ran hot wet kisses down the smooth column of her throat, sending chills racing through her. But even as she thought to resist, her body betrayed her. She arched her neck, giving him easier access, then moaned, low and deep in her throat, when he buried his mouth in the sensitive hollow of her neck.

  “Cara. Cara.” His mouth moved lower, taking her breast, and despite the barrier of her gown and chemise she felt her nipple harden.

  She jerked back, her eyes dark and wild, her breath burning her throat.

  “Yale. We can’t. The children…”

  She looked over to where Cody and Seth lay sleeping.

  He kept a hand on either side of her head, holding her when she thought to slip away. Then his smile came. That wild, roguish smile that always sent her heart tumbling. “You once objected to kissing me because your mother might see us. Now it’s your children.” He leaned close, until his lips whispered over hers. “One of these days it’s going to be just you and me, Cara. And when that day comes, oh, the things we’re going to do.”

  He saw the flush that stained her cheeks and couldn’t resist brushing his mouth lightly over each bright spot. “I’ve had a lot of years to think about you, Cara. A lot of years to fantasize about all the things we would have, could have, should have done.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose, then rested his forehead against hers. “Now I’m more resolved than ever to get us safely out of this mess. Think of all the things we have to look forward to.”

  Though it took all his willpower, he stepped back. “Go to sleep now, Cara.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll keep watch.”

  She touched a hand to his cheek. Just a touch, but she saw his eyes darken, and realized that he was very near the breaking point.

  She quickly withdrew her hand and walked away.

  As she covered herself with the shawl and curled up beside her children, she looked across the distance that separated them and could see him, standing where she’d left him, watching her with a quiet intensity that had the heat returning.

  She touched a hand to her poor heart. It was still racing out of control. She clutched her hands together to stop the shaking.

  In all the years that she’d been a wife, she’d never known such feelings. Had never believed any man could awaken such an overwhelming desire in her.

  It shamed her to admit that she wanted him every bit as desperately as he wanted her. And had it not been for the presence of her children, she would right now be lying in Yale’s arms, begging him to take her.

  Chapter Ten

  Cara was awakened from a sound sleep by the thundering of horses’ hooves directly overhead. She sat up, struggling to see through the layers of darkness that seemed to swirl about the mine shaft. But in the inky blackness, it was impossible to see anything.

  Then she caught the sound of voices above.

  “I’m tired of this, Will. When are we going to call it quits and make camp for the night?”

  “When we find that stinking gambler. He’s around here. I can feel it.”

  Horses clattered over rock, sending debris drifting down from the rotten timbers that supported the roof of the mine.

  In his sleep little Seth gave a cry of distress.

  Instantly Cara reached out in the darkness and laid a hand over her son’s mouth. With her lips pressed to Seth’s ear she whispered, “Hush, now. Don’t make a sound.”

  She felt a big hand on her shoulder and realized that despite the darkness Yale had hurried over to kneel beside her. For a moment she rested her cheek against his hand.

  In the silence that followed, a voice up above called out, “What was that?”

  “What?” shouted another.

  “I heard something. Like a kid’s cry.”

  “Or a bird,” someone said.

  “I tell you it was a kid.”

  “I didn’t hear anything.”

  “Come on, Will,” shouted a rough voice. “I’m sick and tired of going over the same trail a dozen times. In this darkness we couldn’t find Conover if we tripped over him. I say we make camp, and start fresh in the morning.”

  Several voices chimed in agreement, and Will Fenner could be heard muttering an oath before saying, “All right. We’ll make camp here. But only until dawn. Then I want that gambler. I’m not leaving here without him.”

  Gradually the sound of men and horses faded. But from the way their voices occasionally drifted on the breeze, they’d chosen a campsite close by.

  Cara moved her hand away from her son’s mouth. Then, feeling tears on Seth’s cheeks, she lifted the little boy into her arms and began to rock him.

  Against his temple she whispered, “I know you’re frightened, Seth. Just hold on.”

  “But the outlaws are right outside, Ma,” Cody whispered.

  “I know.”

  Yale’s muted voice chimed in. “What they don’t know is that we’re down here. Now all we have to do is stay hidden. Sooner or later they’re bound to give up.”

  “Do you think so?” Cody kept a hand on his little brother’s arm as he lifted his head and sniffed back his tears.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “So do I,” Cara said softly as she drew her shawl around Seth before continuing to rock him. “Now you two close your eyes and go back to sleep. Hopefully by morning the bad men will be gone. And we can leave this place.”

  She felt Yale’s hand squeeze her shoulder and brush her hair before he moved away. And found the touch of him oddly comforting.

  Thin morning light filtered through the overhead timbers and layers of rock, piercing the darkness of the mine shaft. Cara awoke to find herself covered by Yale’s black coat. Seth had been returned to the bearskin, where he slept peacefully beside Cody.

  Cara sat up and glanced toward the entrance, where Yale was kneeling, rifle in hand. She crossed to him and handed him his coat. “You must be freezing.”

  He shook his head. “You keep it.” He drew it around her and felt her shiver.

  “Have you slept at all, Yale?”

  “I’ll sleep later.” He turned his attention to the entrance, peering into the distance. “Right now Fenner’s men are starting to stir. I need to stay alert.” He nodded toward the sleeping children. “I think you ought to wake Cody and Seth and take them as deep into the mine shaft as you can. Take the meat and a canteen of water, and the hides for warmth.”

  “What about you? What are you planning?”

  “As soon as it’s safe, I intend to leave here and circle around Fenner and his men. I need to lure them away from here. Otherwise, sooner or later they’re bound to stumble onto us.” He pointed to the rotted timbers. “Besides, I’m afraid too many horses passing overhead might send that entire mine crashing in on itself. If that happens, we could be trapped in here.”

  He saw the fear she couldn’t hide and touched a hand to her cheek. “We’ve come this far, Cara. Don’t give up on me now.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not giving up. But I don’t want you to risk yourself.”

  “It’ll only be for a little while. Until I can draw Fenner and his men away. Then I’ll come back and we can get out of this tomb.”

  The minute the word was out of his mouth he regretted it. But hearing a commotion outside, he was forced to turn away.

  Over his shoulder he whispered, “They’re breaking camp. Take the children. As soon as I can, I’m going to slip away. Promise me that no matter what, you’
ll stay hidden in here.”

  She needed to touch him. If only for a moment.

  Laying a hand on his sleeve she whispered, “All right. I promise. Please hurry back, Yale.”

  He closed a hand over hers. “You know I will.”

  Yale watched until the men broke camp and pulled themselves into the saddle. He strained to hear the orders Fenner was issuing.

  “We’ll break into two groups. One heads east, the other west. Follow every track, no matter how faint. When you spot his trail, signal by firing twice in succession. Understand? I want that gambler. And I want him before noon today.”

  Hearing this, Cara felt a chill pass through her. There was such venom in Fenner’s voice. She turned for one last glimpse of Yale, but he was already completely absorbed in the actions of the outlaws. With a sigh she turned away and picked up the supplies before waking the children and leading them deep into the darkness.

  As soon as the horsemen were out of sight Yale slipped between the boulders, taking care to see that the brush was replaced, leaving no sign that an opening in the ground existed.

  He watched the twin clouds of dust, then set out on foot toward a distant mountain peak.

  In the heat of afternoon Yale removed his shirt, tying it by the sleeves around his waist. Then he climbed hand over hand until he’d reached the shelf of overhanging rock atop the mountain. From there he could see in all directions. Far below he could make out the line of horsemen circling back on their trail. Farther on he could see the others, making a slow arc around the mine.

  On the far side of the mountain he could see a trail carved deep into the earth, made by the hundreds of miners who had converged on the Black Hills years earlier, when gold had been discovered. These hills had given up their gold, at the cost of so many lives. Miners had clashed with the Sioux, who considered this ground sacred. Many of the Sioux still kept watch over their land, though most had been driven from it. The miners, too, had left, except for the few stragglers who simply couldn’t give up the dream of untold riches.

  Suddenly he caught sight of the one thing he’d been hoping for. Coming along that trail was a lone man in a horse-drawn wagon. The man was traveling fast enough that it would take Fenner and his men until dark to catch him, since they would first have to navigate the wall of mountain that stood between him and them.