Kid Calhoun

by Joan Johnston

  Jake put a hand on Claire’s shoulder. “Claire?”

  She had curled up in a fetal ball, shutting him out, shutting out the world.

  “Stay with her,” Jake said. “I want to take a look outside.”

  Jake found tracks from two unshod ponies. Someone had come with Claire, someone lighter than her from the looks of the hoofprints. Whoever it was had gone away again, taking the second horse with him.

  When Jake went looking for Claire again he discovered that she had moved into Jeff’s bedroom. She lay on the bed, her face hidden against a pillow that muffled her sobs. She had curled back into that fetal position again, her knees drawn up to her chest.

  Anabeth was sitting beside Claire, her hand on Claire’s shoulder. She looked up at Jake with tears in her eyes. “She’s hurting so badly. Isn’t there something we can do?”

  He shook his head helplessly.

  Anabeth held out a hand to him, and he took it and sat down beside her on the small bed. When Claire moved toward Jake, he pulled her up onto his lap. He slipped his free arm around Anabeth and pulled her tight against him. He sat there for a long time with an arm around each woman, holding them close.

  Jake tried to imagine how he would feel if Anabeth had been killed, and knew he wouldn’t be able to bear it. Death was so final. It took away second chances. He pulled Claire tighter against him, wanting to take her pain and bear it himself.

  Anabeth had a lump in her throat so big it was choking her. How awful to have the one you love torn from you by tragedy! How much worse to willingly leave a loved one behind. Anabeth had been waiting for spring to come so she could leave Jake and go back to the valley. She saw now she could never do it. Life would be too empty without him.

  She lifted her head from Jake’s shoulder and looked up to find his eyes somber, his features strained. She leaned over and kissed his mouth. Then she took a deep breath, let it out and said, “I love you, Jake.”

  He released a shuddering breath. Did he dare believe her? Did he dare speak the words back to her? Would she stay with him if he did? Jake pulled her close. But said nothing.

  Eventually Claire’s sobs slowed and finally stopped. She was quiet for a long time on Jake’s lap. At last her hand came up and she played with the flannel at the neck of his shirt. “Jake?”

  “Yes, Claire?”

  “Jeff brought me home.”

  “Why didn’t he stay?”

  “He prefers the life of an Apache.”

  Jake tightened his hold. “I’m so sorry, Claire.”

  Her eyes welled with tears, but she was smiling. “He’s happy, Jake. More than I ever could have imagined.”

  “So you’re giving him up?”

  “My son died the day he was taken by Apaches. I met an Apache boy named White Eagle who looked a lot like him.”

  There was nothing Jake could say to comfort her.

  “At least I have something of Wolf left to me,” Claire said.

  “What is that?”

  “His child.”

  “You’re pregnant?” Anabeth blurted.

  Claire’s lips tilted upward in a secret smile. “The baby will be born in the fall.” The smile disappeared as she continued, “I never had a chance to tell Wolf he was going to be a father.” Her voice was a mere whisper when she said, “He died without knowing.”

  Over the next several days Claire stayed in Jeff’s room. She didn’t say much, but she didn’t cry much either. Jake and Anabeth clung to each other, sobered by Claire’s tragedy into realizing what they had each been about to lose.

  When they came together that first night after Anabeth had told Jake she loved him, Jake felt unaccountably shy about facing her. He tucked her head under his chin to keep from having to look her in the eye. Anabeth was willing enough to hide her face in his broad shoulder.

  “I should have said it sooner,” Anabeth said in a rush. “That I love you, I mean. I’ve felt it for a long time.”

  “I wish I could believe everything will work out all right,” Jake confessed in a quiet voice.

  “But you don’t?”

  “I’m starting to. I know I don’t want to lose you, Kid.” He paused and said, “I love you, too.”

  “You aren’t just saying that because I did? Or because of the baby, are you, Jake?”

  He shook his head. “The baby has nothing to do with how I feel about you.” Jake put his hand on her belly, which was round with their child. “I can’t promise what kind of father I’ll be. I worry sometimes that I won’t know what to do.”

  “Me, too,” Anabeth said. “Other people always seem to manage somehow. So can we.”

  “Sometimes people don’t do a very good job,” Jake said.

  “Like your mother?”

  “I’ve tried to understand why she did what she did. I don’t think I ever will.”

  “She’s been dead a long time, Jake. Don’t you think it’s time you buried her once and for all? She can’t hurt you any more. And I never will.”

  She turned her face up to him and said, “Tell me you love me, Jake. I want to hear it again and again. And I’ll say the words to you as often as you want, so you’ll know I mean them, that I’ll never stop meaning them. I love you, Jake.”

  He kissed her with all the tenderness he was feeling. “I love you, Kid.”

  “I’m still wanted by the law, you know.”

  “I haven’t forgotten.” But Jake had used the winter to think about that problem. And he had found, in his heart and mind, what he thought was the solution to it. “Actually, Kid Calhoun is the one wanted by the law,” he said. “The only person I see in this room is a beautiful woman named Anabeth.”

  “Wat Rankin knows that Anabeth and the Kid are the same person, and Solano is out there somewhere, too.”

  “I’ll deal with Wat Rankin and with Solano if it comes to that. Any more problems you need solved, Kid?”

  “Just one. I have an ache. Right here.” Anabeth’s hand slid from her breasts, to her burgeoning belly, to the cleft between her thighs, so it wasn’t quite clear exactly where the ache might be.

  Jake was happy to ease it no matter where it was.

  He started by brushing a tendril of hair from Anabeth’s brow. He treated her as though she were fragile enough to break, removing her clothing one piece at a time, increasing the tension between them as he exposed her no-longer-slender body to his gaze.

  “You are so beautiful,” Jake murmured as he caressed her rounded belly.

  “You make me feel beautiful, Jake.”

  He suckled her as their child would suckle and Anabeth felt her body tighten with pleasure. He kissed his way down across her belly to the nest of curls below. When he kissed her there, Anabeth nearly came off the bed.

  “Jake! What are you doing?”

  “Loving you. Kissing you.”

  His lips and tongue touched her in intimate ways that sent frissons of pleasure through her. A low groan escaped from her throat. He lifted her up to his mouth and loved her until she was shivering with passion, until her body tightened like a bowstring and then erupted in a series of shuddering releases.

  “Jake!” she cried. “Jake, I want …”

  “What do you want, Kid?” he murmured.

  “I want you.”

  He kissed his way up her body. When he finally reached her mouth she could taste herself on his lips. “I love you, Jake.”

  Jake liked hearing the words. He had been slow and gentle undressing Anabeth, but he was all haste as he practically tore his own clothes off. When he was naked he spooned his body around Anabeth, and angled one of her legs back over his. Then he held her belly with both hands as he entered her from behind.

  Anabeth leaned back into Jake’s body, anxious because the only part of him she could reach was his thighs. She found the crease along his inner thigh and had the satisfaction of hearing Jake gasp.

  Jake’s hands roamed her body, stroking her breasts, her belly, and finally the tiny nubbin h
idden in the crisp hair at the apex of her thighs.

  Anabeth felt the tension building as Jake slowly, gently thrust inside her. The breath wedged in her throat as she tried to tell him how much she liked what he was doing.

  His mouth found her nape and bit her, then soothed the hurt with his lips and tongue. Her ears also got their share of attention, as he teased the lobe with his teeth. His moist breath in her ear sent shivers down her spine.

  Her shuddering release caught her by surprise. Her whole body tightened and she heard Jake’s cry as he climaxed within her.

  Jake stayed inside her. Anabeth relaxed against him, feeling the strength of his sweat-slick body, secure in the knowledge that she loved him and he loved her and that now they would be able to live happily ever after.

  Only things have a way of turning out differently from the way people plan. As Claire had learned. As Jake and Anabeth would find out all too soon.

  22

  “Claire and I are going on a picnic,” Anabeth announced one morning a few days later.

  “Fine. As long as you have it on the front porch,” Jake said.

  “I thought we’d go down to the willow by the stream.”

  “It’s not safe.”

  “Why don’t you come along and keep an eye on us?” Anabeth asked. She gave him a come-hither look from beneath lowered lashes.

  “I’ve got too much work to do.”

  “Then send someone else to watch over us,” Anabeth insisted.

  “Please, Jake,” Claire said.

  Jake looked from Anabeth to Claire and back again. “All right. I can’t fight both of you.”

  “Thanks, Jake!” Anabeth gave him a quick hug. “Blackie will be along to warn us if Rankin comes around.”

  When Anabeth would have let him go, Jake held on and hugged her back. “Take care of yourself,” he murmured in her ear. “Watch out for Rankin.”

  Anabeth and Claire walked, carrying the picnic basket between them. Dog padded along behind Anabeth.

  “I can’t believe the difference in that black dog from the first time I saw him,” Claire said. “Or the difference in Jake,” she added.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “They were both … alone. Now they’re not.”

  “So was I,” Anabeth said in a quiet voice. “Now I’m not.”

  The willow already had spring leaves, and once the two of them ducked inside the canopy of branches they were virtually invisible to the outside world.

  “I had forgotten how wonderful this is!” Claire said.

  Anabeth settled on the ground, and Dog quickly found a comfortable spot and curled up beside her. “This is my favorite place on Window Rock,” she said.

  “Jeff used to come here,” Claire said. “After the Apaches took him, I never came back.”

  “How is Jeff, really?”

  “He’s fine, really. I just wish …”

  Dog stood and stared out beyond the canopy of leaves. His neck fur hackled. A low rumble began in his throat.

  Anabeth and Claire exchanged glances. Someone was out there.

  “It’s Rankin,” Anabeth mouthed. “I’d bet on it.”

  “What do we do?” Claire whispered.

  Anabeth put a hand on Dog’s neck. She knew he would attack if she didn’t hold on to him. And this time Rankin would kill him.

  Anabeth leaned over to whisper in Claire’s ear. “Here’s what we’re going to do.…”

  Jake shielded his eyes and looked down the valley. He could swear he saw a black dot moving down there. Dog? Why was Dog coming back alone? Where was the woman he normally shadowed. Where was Anabeth?

  “I have come for my woman. You will tell me where to find her now!”

  Jake had been so focused on the movement in the valley, that the Apache caught him completely by surprise. Jake stared in disbelief at the painted warrior on horseback who had appeared before him to bar his way.

  “Wolf? We thought you were dead!” Jake saw the barely healed wound on the Apache’s temple where a bullet had cut into his scalp.

  Wolf’s nostrils flared and his lips flattened. “I have looked for my woman in the white man’s house. I did not find her there. What have you done with her?”

  Jake felt his neck hairs hackle at the Apache’s demanding tone of voice. He reminded himself that Claire loved this man. He thought of how happy she would be to see Wolf alive and tried to ignore the fighting instinct that rose in him when he met the Apache’s insolent stare.

  “Claire and Anabeth are picnicking under that big willow down by the river,” Jake said. “I’ll ride with you, and we’ll find them together.”

  Wolf didn’t wait for Jake. He kicked his pony into a gallop and headed toward the stream that ran along the bottom slope of the valley.

  “Hell and the devil!” Jake kicked his buckskin gelding into a hard gallop and soon caught up to the Indian. The closer they got, the more certain Jake became that the movement he had seen was Dog. He forced himself to remain calm. There was probably some simple explanation for why Dog wasn’t with Anabeth. He wasn’t going to panic over nothing.

  Besides, he had sent a man to guard the two women. Surely there would have been a signal if anyone had intruded on Window Rock land.

  Jake glanced over at the Apache and realized that he wouldn’t want to be the man who touched Claire against her will. The Indian’s dark eyes were frightening to behold. Bleak. Merciless. Jake was glad he was not an enemy.

  Wolf couldn’t explain to the white man the emptiness he had felt inside when he had woken two days after the battle with the white soldiers to discover that Little One was gone. When he had confronted White Eagle, the boy had stood undaunted before his wrath. White Eagle would say only that Wolf’s woman had wanted to go home, so he had taken her there.

  Wolf was devastated to think that Little One would leave him. It had taken him another day of brooding to realize that he was not willing to live his life without her. He was going after her, and he wasn’t coming back to the village alone.

  As Wolf was leaving the village He Makes Trouble had come running up to him. The tiny child had tugged on Wolf’s leggings to get his attention and said, “Take me with you! I want to help find my mother.”

  Wolf had not denied He Makes Trouble the right to call the white woman mother. But the boy was too young to come on such a journey. “You wait here, and I will bring her back to you.”

  “If you say so, Father,” He Makes Trouble had answered solemnly.

  Wolf had opened his mouth to deny the kinship but said nothing. He Makes Trouble would be a good son—once some of the mischief had been lessoned out of him. “Wait here,” Wolf said. “And do not think to be coming after me,” he called over his shoulder. With He Makes Trouble, you could not repeat a thing too often.

  Now the moment of truth was at hand. Could Wolf force Little One to come back to him against her will? Would it be necessary? Jake had said they thought him dead. Was that why Little One had fled the village? Was that why she hadn’t gone to hide in the hills as the other women had done?

  Jake saw the brooding look on the Apache’s sharp-boned face and wondered what Claire saw in the taciturn man. He wasn’t allowed much time to think about it, because the feeling struck him suddenly that something was wrong. They were no more than halfway to the site of the picnic when Jake realized what had made him so anxious.

  “The lookout!”

  “Where?” Wolf asked. “I see no one.”

  “That’s just it,” Jake said in a steely voice. “I sent a cowhand with a rifle along to guard the women and make sure nothing happened to them. He’s not where he’s supposed to be.”

  Jake made a slight detour to check on the man he had sent to keep an eye on Anabeth and Claire. His worst fears were confirmed when he pulled his horse up beside the pine where the man had been posted.

  “He is dead,” Wolf said after one look at the bloody body lying sprawled on the ground.

  Jake
slipped off his horse to see how the cowhand had been killed. “Stabbed.” He mounted again and spurred his buckskin toward the willow.

  “I never should have let her out of my sight,” Jake muttered.

  Halfway to the willow, they met Dog. He barked frantically and raced back toward the willow, then toward Jake again.

  “Hell and the devil.” Jake realized suddenly that Anabeth had sent the dog back on purpose. She had saved the damned dog instead of letting him protect her!

  The two men galloped the rest of the way to the willow. They read the story left in the women’s wake as though it were written in a book.

  “Four, maybe five white men were here,” Wolf said. “The one who killed your sentry joined the others when they left this place.”

  “They brought an extra horse, so this was planned in advance,” Jake added. But Rankin hadn’t been expecting to find Claire here because Jake had said she was visiting friends in Texas. So one of them had ridden double.

  Jake recalled that Rankin—Reardon—had wanted to marry Claire. Was that why Rankin had killed Sam during the holdup? So Claire would become a widow?

  Jake felt his stomach pitch. His flinty gray eyes met Wolf’s gaze. “They’ll kill the women when they’re done with them.”

  “Why have they been taken? Do you have an enemy among the whites?”

  “Wat Rankin,” Jake said flatly. “He’s hunting for stolen gold, and he thinks Anabeth knows where it is. And I think he had plans once upon a time to make Claire his wife.”

  “Will they go to the white man’s town?”

  “No. They’ll go to the valley.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that’s where the gold is supposed to be hidden.”

  “Let us go,” Wolf said. “I have a need to spill my enemy’s blood this day.”

  The two men rode side by side toward the valley. Dog followed, but along the ridges, at a distance from them.

  But Wat Rankin had anticipated pursuit. Jake and Wolf were still some distance from the valley when they were ambushed, pinned down by a single gunman who was guarding the only way into the valley.

  Jake pulled his rifle from the boot on his saddle and returned the outlaw’s fire. “I’ll keep him busy if you’d like to go pay him a visit,” he said to Wolf.