Magic in Her Eyes

by Donna Dalton

  Footfalls strode into their conversation. Preston gave an exasperated groan and swung around to greet the approaching trooper.

  “Pardon me, Lieutenant, but the horses are all secured to the picket line. Well, all except for Black Hawk’s piebald. That one won’t budge an inch.”

  Preston nodded. “Just leave the piebald where it is. The animal has probably been trained to stay in place. Go ahead and take up a position to the south. It won’t be long before the main assault begins.”

  As the trooper trotted toward his assignment, Preston clasped her elbow and urged her forward. “Come. We can wait in that grove near the tree line. It’ll give us a clear view of the slope without being out in the open.”

  She fell into step beside him, her gait slightly gimpy from where the saddle had rubbed her skin raw. If her efforts saved Preston and Robbie, she would gladly endure any suffering the journey had inflicted.

  Only the faint thud of their footfalls broke the quiet. Not even her bleeding heart made a sound.

  “What about the children?” he finally said. “Were the accusations of them conducting witchcraft true?”

  The man could put two and two together faster than a fox sniffed out a rabbit. Denying the truth would only widen his wound. She had trusted him with her secret; she could certainly trust him with the children’s.

  “We don’t consider our talents as witchcraft, but yes, each of the children has a gift of some sort. That piebald your trooper was having trouble with… Robbie could probably get it to cooperate. He can converse with the animals. Literally. He hears their thoughts in his head and they can hear his.”

  “Holy cow.”

  Meredith couldn’t help but smile at his quip. “His sister, Becky, has the same gift. Mildred rescued them from a town in Ohio. They had been orphaned by a fire which they escaped with the help of the town mongrel. The townsfolk were none too receptive to their abnormal abilities and refused them shelter.”

  “And the others?”

  “Gabe can move small objects with his mind. Remember that day at Seaton House in the parlor when you tripped over the footstool?”

  His eyebrows shot skyward. “That footstool did move. I knew it had.”

  “Gabe was trying to stop you from stomping Robbie’s pet mouse.”

  “That little scamp.” He wagged his head. “I knew there was something unusual about your orphans; I just didn’t know how very unusual.”

  “Well now you know. Mildred established the orphanage specifically for children with special talents just as our ancestor Mistress Seaton. She teaches them to control and conceal their gifts so they can assimilate into society without fear of being discovered and persecuted. It’s a secret we all share and work hard to preserve.”

  “You won’t have to worry about me revealing your secrets. You have my word.”

  His hand grazing her arm gave her hope. She might have assuaged some of his pain by opening up to him, but it would be a long, hard road to fully earn back his trust.

  The echo of gunshots shattered the stillness. She jumped at the sound, a gasp escaping her lips. The rescue had begun.

  Preston unholstered his pistol and motioned to a nearby thicket. “There’s more protection over by that cluster of pines. You’ll be safer there. And don’t worry about Robbie. He’ll be just fine. Finley’s reign of terror will soon be over.”

  If only she had his confidence. Maybe her insides wouldn’t be so twisted with worry.

  She moved to the base of a large pine tree and sank to the ground. Sunlight dribbled through the canopy and speckled the carpeting of pine needles. It reminded her of that day seemingly an eternity ago—one that had changed her life forever. She’d been sitting under the big elm near the barn, waving her hand through the sunbeams and watching as they sparkled like magic on her skin. It had been a lovely afternoon, full of chirping birds and lazy breezes. Until a tortured scream shattered the tranquility. She’d raced to the pasture but arrived too late. Charles lay silent and still on the grass, outlined in a glistening puddle of red.

  She’d knelt beside him and touched his face, letting her sisterly love go out of her and into his cooling skin. She wept with her hand on his cheek, wept for what she had done to him, for not being able to save him, for not being there to hold him when he left the world. She’d wondered if he had looked down on her, stunned and confused, while the birds sang and the sun speared her with magical beams.

  The snapping of a branch stabbed into her thoughts. Preston had shifted closer to her, watchful and protective. A searing breath scorched her throat. Thankfully his death would not be a haunting regret.

  The gunfire slowed and finally ceased. She rolled up on her knees and peeked around the tree. Please let it be over. Please let Robbie be safe.

  A flash of tweed caught her eye. A man slithered from behind a cluster of rocks—a short, squat, snake of a man toting a short-barreled pistol. Finley. Even from a distance, she could see the fear pocking his blubbery face. He should be afraid. If she had a gun, she’d shoot the serpent herself.

  “I’m going after him,” Preston whispered. “Stay here and don’t move.”

  Fear robbed her of a breath. “Preston…you can’t.”

  He looked down at her, his gaze soft and reassuring. “I know what to expect now. Finley won’t get the drop on me.”

  If she ever wanted him back in her life, she had to trust him—without reservation. She nodded. “Be careful.”

  He left the grove and crept along the tree line, angling for the far side of the slope ahead of the escaping serpent. A hundred heartbeats later, Preston traded the protection of the trees for a large egg-shaped boulder—exactly like the one in her vision. She held her breath, waiting, watching. Tension filled the air, thick and dark, like smoke from a coal fire.

  Finley drew within twenty yards of Preston’s hiding spot and slowed, his pistol hoisted. She wanted to call out, wanted to warn Preston of the danger. She held her tongue. She had to believe in him as she wanted him to believe in her. This was what he had trained to do. He would keep himself safe.

  A movement at the top of the boulder caught her eye. Instead of moving around the rock and into the open as she’d seen in her vision, Preston was going over it, using the rock as a shield. His head and upper body came into view. Finley also caught sight of him and skidded to a halt, pistol pointing upward.

  A gunshot barked out.

  Finley’s pistol clattered to the ground. The agent staggered backward, howling and clutching his shoulder. Preston surged over the rock and dropped to the ground. He reached Finley in three strides and kicked aside the dropped weapon.

  Her heart started pumping again, her lungs drawing air. She slumped in relief. Preston was alive. Her vision had been thwarted.

  The crunch of footfalls sounded, and Black Hawk and his warriors emerged from the other side of the slope, herding three rope-bound men in front of them. Preston’s troopers trailed them, one of them toting Robbie.

  The boy wriggled free and raced toward her. She gathered him in her arms and gave him a quick squeeze before pushing him out to arm’s length. He appeared to be unharmed. No blood, no bruising. But that didn’t mean there weren’t other injuries hidden beneath his clothing or worse…deep inside.

  “Are you all right? Did that rotten man hurt you?”

  Robbie wagged his head. “Finley only hit me once. It didn’t hurt for long.”

  She glared across the glade at the agent who staggered and moaned like he was on death’s doorstep. Evil, maggoty man. Lucky for him, Preston had only shot to disable. Another four inches to the left and Satan would be celebrating a new arrival in hell.

  Robbie wriggled out of her grasp. “Did you find Petunia? I dropped her when that mean old goat grabbed me. I told her to let you know what happened.”

  Leave it to him to think of his pet rather than himself. Meredith smoothed down a lock that stuck out from behind his ear. “Petunia told us everything. She’s doing fine. Becky
is looking after her for you.”

  “Good. I was worried. She doesn’t like to be alone.”

  Preston joined her and Robbie in the grove. “Is the boy all right?”

  “He’s fine. Just a little shook up as anyone would be after such an ordeal. What on earth did that man want with you?”

  “Ummm. I can’t say.” Robbie cut a glance at Preston and lowered his voice. “It’s about my gift.”

  “That’s all right. The lieutenant knows all about us. He’s promised to keep our gifts a secret.”

  The boy beamed up at Preston. “We won’t have to hide things from you no more.”

  “Any more. And no you won’t, son. Not around me. What did Finley want with you?”

  “He somehow figured out I could talk to animals. When we got to Mrs. Valder’s, he came up to the wagon and said he wanted to give me something for helping save his horse. That’s when he grabbed me.”

  Such a brave young man. Putting on a courageous face when he had to be scared to death. She certainly would have been. She was. “You must have been so very frightened.”

  “I was a little scared. He put a knife to my neck and said he’d cut me if I told his horse to act up or if I tried to call any critters to help me. Once we got to this place, he ordered me to talk to the animals. Find out where the gold mines were hidden.”

  “Gold mines?” she asked.

  Preston wagged his head. “Of course. I should have seen through all the smoke. It’s rumored that Spanish settlers found gold in these hills centuries ago. The Creeks have had a lot of trouble keeping trespassers off their lands. It’s probably the reason Finley started staging raids to look like the work of the Indians. He wanted the army to move the tribe to another reservation. Then he would have easy access to the mountains and could search for the gold mines. I wish I would have figured it out sooner.”

  “If it helps any, sir. I learned where they are.”

  “Where what are?”

  “The mines. A nice fox said he chased a chipmunk into a cave one day. Said there were strange markings all over the walls. I didn’t tell that polecat Mr. Finley where they were. But I will tell you if you want.”

  Preston patted Robbie on the shoulder. “You can tell Black Hawk. These are his people’s lands. They are the ones who should decide what to do with the information.”

  ****

  At the garrison gate, the troopers guarding Finley and his cohorts peeled off and headed in the direction of the jailhouse. A large splotch of red stained the agent’s jacket. The bandage Sergeant Reese had applied had stopped the bleeding, and much to the relief of Preston’s ears, the sniveler had abandoned his caterwauling. Finley hunched over in the saddle, head bobbing and jowls sagging. The man knew there would be no escape from where he was going. Not this time. And if convicted of his crimes, he’d soon be trading a jail cell for a fire pit in hell—a more fitting place he couldn’t imagine.

  Preston guided his horse onto the main thoroughfare leading through town. Darkness had settled in during the ride from the reservation, sending folks into the comfort of their homes. Only small pockets of lamplight spilling from the windows lit the deserted roadway.

  He reined in beside Meredith’s mount. A shaft of golden light outlined the weariness tugging at her eyes. Yet her lips held a contented smile. She had her children back. All of them. She would do anything to keep her charges safe, even risk her own life. Hell, he’d have done the same if it kept his troopers from harm.

  However, what he couldn’t abide, what ate at him the most, was her reluctance to open up about herself and her gift. If she could keep something that important from him, what else might she hide? With lives depending on his judgement, he needed a wife he could trust and depend on. As much as he loved her, he wasn’t sure he could do that. To make matters worse, she could be with child. His child.

  He clenched his teeth around a curse. He could marry her. Give her his name, but not share a life with her. He could rescind his offer of marriage, but that would leave his child a bastard. Two options, each a bullet to his moral code. How the hell had it come to this?

  The boy sitting on his lap squirmed as if sensing his disquiet. He’d offered to let Robbie ride back with him. Meredith was clearly exhausted and if her limp was any indication, saddle sore too. She didn’t need the added burden of a fidgety child.

  Robbie had jumped at the opportunity and chattered non-stop most of the way, asking about army life and chasing down outlaws and rogue Indians. The boy had a vigorous mind that was for certain—most likely made all the more intense by his magical gift.

  The rascal could converse with the animals. That morning when he’d gone to fetch the dawdling youngster as they were vacating the jailhouse, he’d thought the boy was having a one-sided conversation with the cow. Apparently not. Robbie had questioned him about whether he could talk to his horse. He chuckled under his breath. On days when his mount decided to spook at the least little provocation, he could sure use such a talent. But then again, hearing every miniscule thought, whether animal or human, could get tiresome. Robbie’s gift would definitely be a double-edged sword.

  “You know what, Miss Talbot?” the boy said after a spell of uncharacteristic quiet.

  She laughed softly, the sound tinkling like a soothing waterfall. “With you, Robert Edmunds, one never knows what.”

  Robbie tipped his head back and peered at her from beneath the slouch hat’s wide brim. The boy had remarked it was the niftiest hat he’d ever seen. From the appreciative gleam in the boy’s eyes, he took that to mean something good, so he’d offered to let the boy wear it. If the hat made the child feel special, so be it. Robbie deserved some joy after what he had bravely endured, even if the thing did nearly swallow him whole.

  “I’ve decided I’m gonna be an army officer when I grow up, just like the lieutenant.”

  “Are you now?” Meredith cut a glance his way, a coquettish glint slanting her eyes. “Girls just adore men in uniform. You’ll have them falling at your feet.”

  The slouch hat wobbled with the boy’s wagging head. “Girls. Ugh. I just wanna ride around the country and protect folks from bad people.”

  That tune would change in about ten years, once adolescence kicked in and pretty lips and rounded backsides beckoned. “Work hard at your studies,” he said. “Keep out of trouble, and maybe you can go to West Point Academy.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s a school back east that teaches young men academics and military leadership. President Grant graduated from there.”

  “Did you?”

  “I did.” Memories of his school years bombarded him. The comradery. The feeling of belonging, of being a member of the Long Gray Line—and later, of joining the brotherhood of fighting men. He thought that’s all he wanted from life. Until Meredith Talbot.

  Robbie thumped the hat brim. “Then that’s where I’m going. West Point Academy. Just like President Grant and Lieutenant Booth.”

  A warm, fuzzy feeling washed over him. Was this how it felt to have someone want to follow in your footsteps? To leave behind a legacy when you left the world? It made his father’s uncompromising fanaticism toward his education almost understandable. Almost.

  If he took the assignment at Fort Sill, he would surrender any chance of guiding young Robbie toward achieving a career in the military. He wouldn’t be able to help any of the orphans attain their goals. His gut clenched. Or be in the life of any child he and Meredith might have created.

  She feared passing her curse to a daughter. He understood her worry. People were contrary beasts. Anything strange or mysterious frightened them and that fright caused them to act out. He’d seen such a thing firsthand at the academy with one of his older classmates. Andrew Sawyer had been exceptionally gifted in mathematics. He could tally troop assessments and distances within seconds. For that exceptionalism, he was ostracized by the other plebes. No one wanted to befriend a freak of nature.

  He hadn’t real
ly considered how her gift might affect his career. While he wanted to be there for his daughter or son; it also meant he had to make a decision about their mother—about what he wanted with her. Right now, he just didn’t know.

  The door to the General Store opened, spilling lamplight into the street. A man stepped onto the boardwalk. “Is that you, Miss Talbot? Did you find the boy? Is he safe?”

  Meredith slowed her mount. “We did, Mr. Cavendish. He’s right here riding with Lieutenant Booth, safe and sound.”

  “That’s very good news indeed. We heard about his abduction and were worried…worried about you too.” A woman joined Cavendish on the boardwalk, and the store owner draped an arm around her waist. “The missus and I want to thank you for rescuing our Pete earlier. The boy gets himself into the darndest spots.”

  “It was nothing. I’m glad I could help.”

  “We’re sorry about the harassing of you and the children. We got caught up in the frenzy with the rest of the folks. It was wrong. We should have been better Christians. Rest assured it won’t happen again. I’ll see to it that someone comes by first thing to replace Mrs. Valder’s window.”

  Preston grunted under his breath. Well, well. The good folks of Mineral were finally seeing the error of their ways. Too bad it took a child’s abduction and the discovery of the real wrongdoers to open their eyes and their hearts.

  Meredith dipped her head. “Thank you, Mr. Cavendish; your kindness is much appreciated.”

  As the pair disappeared back inside, Robbie twisted to look at Meredith. “You helped that polecat Pete Cavendish?”

  “Of course I did. He needed my help. That’s what decent folks do; we show compassion even when it may not be reciprocated.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t have done it.”

  Preston nodded. He wasn’t so sure he could have shown such compassion either. Meredith certainly was a bewildering mixture of softness and strength.