“I’m well, thank you.”
“You should visit more. I’m in need of pies and cookies for the Independence Day celebration.”
“I shall make you some. I’ve been a mite busy lately.” Mary released Miss Alma and moved beneath the shade of a storefront. Might Miss Alma know of Josie’s parentage? While the woman who’d brought Mary to faith years ago knew everything about everyone, she wasn’t a gossip.
“Well, we’ve missed you.” Miss Alma tittered as she dug through a bag at her side. “I bought yarn and threads for you. That Grant woman has finally left the sewing circle and we’ve a hole now...one we’d like you to fill. Ah, here they are.” Triumphantly she shoved the bag at Mary.
She took it, feeling a blush warm her cheeks. “Thank you. I shall think on your kind offer. How much are these?”
Miss Alma waved a hand. “Pishposh. They’re a gift. I worry about you. Alone on that ranch.”
“I have James and Lou—”
“No female companionship at all. It’s not healthy. At least we used to meet for church....” Miss Alma trailed off as Mary shifted uncomfortably.
Since Lou had gotten shot, she hadn’t been to church. Was it two Sundays she’d missed?
“My sweet girl, is there anything I can do for you?” The elderly woman, who had more fire in her than a rowdy pony, sported a soft look upon her face.
Mary hugged her again. “We’re fine. I’m actually looking for some information, though.” She thought of the man who’d come calling and decided to hedge a bit. “My mother found a child, and I’m having trouble locating the girl’s parents.”
“Oh, my.” Miss Alma’s hand went to her ruffled breast. “Why, I haven’t heard a thing. Where did your mother find the child? Does she need a place to stay?”
“No, no, she’s safe,” Mary replied, flustered by the questions. “Perhaps you might keep your ear to the ground, as it were, and if you find out anything, let me know?”
“Of course I will.”
They said their goodbyes, and Mary watched the lady who’d saved her life bustle away. Not her physical life, but her emotional one. Childhood chaos aside, she’d been a mess when Trevor first brought her to Lou’s. Miss Alma had nursed her back to health and introduced her to God, to a Jesus who saw past skin and circumstance to the very heart of a person. Who loved despite a person’s flaws or parentage.
Feeling cozy from memories, she wheeled to the right and headed toward her horse. One more stop and then she could go home.
Home.
Humming her favorite hymn, Mary set out for the Paiute encampment. Sunlight warmed her shoulders and bathed the path before her in brightness. If only her own path could be so clear. With Lou injured and Josie running wild, she wasn’t sure what to do.
And there was that way Lou had looked at her the other day—intent, dark. Her belly flip-flopped at the memory. She shook herself.
No matter what occurred in the next few weeks, she must disentangle herself from Lou, from the ranch, from everything that made her dependent on him.
The encampment loomed before her, scents reaching her as she came closer. Her mother’s tent had no smoke, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t home. It was a warm day after all.
As she stopped before the tepee, an older man appeared from behind the tent’s flap. He peered up at her, eyes black in the light.
“I am looking for my mother. Rose.” That had been her name in the past, but Mary didn’t know if she’d kept it or reverted to a traditional name.
“Rose not here.” The flap fluttered closed as the man disappeared.
Around her, kids laughed and a dog barked. Sweat trickled down her neck as she roasted beneath the sun, trying to process the man’s words. Not there? Had she left on her own? Or had the man with the violet eyes found her?
Whatever faults her mother might have, Mary didn’t want harm to come to her. Maybe he meant she’d gone to a general store, perhaps to sell goods?
She debated pestering the man again or riding back to town. Her sense of decorum made the decision for her. Sliding the reins over her mare’s neck, she turned the horse back to town.
Once there, she discovered no one knew of her mother’s whereabouts. How strange. She glanced at the general store, where she’d caught up with Miss Alma, who’d reinvited her to the sewing circle. When she asked about her mother, the women in the store shrugged and said she’d been to town early in the morning to sell her baskets. They hadn’t seen her since.
Feeling a heavy sigh forming, Mary led her mare down the road going out of town and in the direction of the ranch. Ahead, a lone horse hitched to a pole stomped his hoof. The mare whickered and edged to the left, bumping Mary.
“Come on, girl.” She soothed her with a pat on the neck as they moved farther left, away from the nervous stallion at the post.
Raised voices ahead slowed Mary’s gait. Male voices, sharp and angry. She remembered that sound altogether too well. Cringing, she hugged closer to the horse, hoping to sneak past. It was her hope the men were too involved to notice her.
Here, at the outskirts of town, there was no telling what riffraff lingered. She wet her lips. She could always jump on the horse and gallop away, but that would certainly draw attention. Drawing a deep breath of horse, dust and sunlight, she trudged forward, wincing when one man’s voice rose particularly loudly.
From beneath lowered lids she scanned the area and saw nothing amiss. Tilting her head, she looked to the left. The space between two buildings resembled an alley. It was dark and deep, the perfect place for an argument. She shuddered and kept going. She’d just passed the opening there when the sound of a grunt followed by a thick thud startled her mare.
The horse jerked and the reins slipped through her hands, burning her palms. With a clatter of hooves and a flurry of dust, the mare left her standing slack-jawed in the road.
Instinctually her arms rounded her rib cage. Miss Alma’s gift bumped against her hip. She hurried to the opposite side of the road, hiding behind a stack of onion barrels. She glared at the speck of her horse on the horizon, no doubt heading home. She must find a new one, and soon, before the mare worried Lou and James needlessly. But who could she ask?
Miss Alma might still be in town. Surely she’d give Mary a ride for part of the way, or possibly send a message to the ranch somehow....
Mind made up, she stepped away from the barrels and promptly stopped. A man appeared at the edge of the alley across the street. He stood tall and narrow, and something about his posture sent a shiver of foreboding through her.
Pivoting, she headed toward town. Footsteps sounded behind her. She picked up her pace, knowing only a few yards farther the streets teemed with shoppers.
The footsteps increased, faster than hers, until she felt a presence beside her and smelled the overpowering odor of cologne. Pulse clanging in her ears, she looked up and met the gaze of the violet-eyed stranger.
Chapter Six
Lou was sitting by the window when he saw a mare race into the yard. The horse pranced nervously near the porch before galloping toward the stables. An empty saddle went with her.
Biting back an oath, he rose from his spot, palming the wall until his vision became normal and the dizziness passed. His legs felt rubbery, but somehow he made it to the post of his bed. James had helped him earlier to the window. Now Lou wished he’d left some crutches in the room. He could barely breathe.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, he shuffled to the opposite bedpost, the one closest to the door. Don’t fail me, he urged his body. Finally, his neck clammy and a sheen of sweat pebbling his forearms, he made it to the door.
“James,” he shouted. His voice sounded like a croak. Scowling, he tried again. The sound of footsteps padded up the stairs. Little feet.
He’d never been so glad to see Josie. He rested his head against the doo
r frame and waited for the girl to appear. Sure enough, she plopped herself right under his gaze, a big smile on her face.
“Hey, Mister Lou. Whatcha want?”
“Get me James,” he said.
“Okeydokey.”
She pattered off, but the image of her guileless face remained, taunting him with memories. Swallowing past his dry throat, he allowed himself to slide to the ground.
In moments, James was clumping up the stairs, his breaths heavy and labored. Lou saw his feet stop at the head of the stairs. “That whippersnapper said you was dying.”
Squinting, Lou looked up at the man who’d been with him for so long, a former doctor whom Mary had taken from a life of homelessness on the streets of Burns and brought to the ranch for healing from too much drink.
He tried to keep his voice steady and careful. “Mary come back yet?”
James heaved, bending at the waist and meeting Lou at eye level. “You sayin’ you sent that stinker runnin’ like a herd of wild mustangs was after her, and you ain’t dying? You jest want Mary?”
“Did she take a horse?” Lou continued calmly, training his gaze on James.
James growled and straightened. “She did.”
“Check the stables, see if her horse returned.”
“Now, how’m I supposed to know which horse she took?”
“Find out.” The snarl took more energy than Lou thought it would.
“What’s going on?”
“Is Miss Mary missing?” A little voice trembled from the stairs, snagging Lou’s attention and putting an ache in the vicinity of his heart. He couldn’t meet her gaze. Something had happened to Mary and he hadn’t been there to protect her.
Just like Sarah.
Sourness coated the roof of his mouth.
“Don’t you worry, Josie. Everything is going to be okay.” He jerked his chin at James. “Pull out my car. We’re going to town.”
For once, the old man didn’t argue about driving a fancy Ford.
Soon, they were on their way to Burns. Lou stared out the window, his whole body aching, his worry amplifying every pain. Getting down the stairs had proved to be a terrible chore, one that had required lots of stops and support. He grimaced at his reflection, knowing he looked haggard and not caring one iota.
His strength might be on the low side, but James said the wound looked to be healing nicely. Only a few more days and he ought to be able to hunt that shooter down, if the bureau or local police hadn’t found him already. He’d check on that in town.
He felt his lips tugging farther downward. Where was Mary? If anything happened to her.... He clenched his legs, letting his fingers dig into his thigh, needing a different kind of pain to take his thoughts from what his life might be like without her in it.
Even though, according to the telegram sitting in his room, in a few months’ time he might never see her again. Guilt joined the worry, creating a ruckus in his head.
“You’re quiet,” James remarked from the driver’s seat.
“Not much to talk on.”
“She’s probably fine. We’ll find her. Give her grief over this whole thing.”
“Watch out the window,” Lou said. “She could be laying somewhere, hurt.”
A rattler could’ve spooked her horse, and though Mary had been riding a long time, she didn’t have a close bond with any of the horses. They wouldn’t think twice about leaving her.
“I hope Josie behaves for Horn,” said James.
They’d left the girl with their neighbor, though she’d been unwilling. Only the presence of a fresh batch of puppies had seemed to mollify her.
“I’m sure she’ll be fine. Seemed happy enough with those pups.”
“You heard anything on your shooter?” James dodged a shrub growing in the middle of the road.
The movement jolted Lou, sending an arcing pain through his shoulder. He winced, waiting for it to subside. “Nah. They think he’s related somehow to that speakeasy we busted.” Enforcing prohibition laws didn’t necessarily fall into the bureau’s jurisdiction, but they’d found some creative loopholes to catch criminals. Whatever it took to capture the bad guys, Lou was for it.
They didn’t make any more small talk the rest of the way. A sick feeling persisted in Lou’s stomach. As they drove into Burns, he felt a new resolve take hold. They hadn’t found Mary on the way, which meant she should still be in town.
He was going to chew her out good.
Feeling grim, he shuffled behind James, a crutch under his good side’s arm and James on the bad side, supporting him. They entered the police station. James’s gait was stiff, and Lou was ready to punch something.
The feeling worsened when he saw Mary sitting on the bench. With her hair pulled back, neat and clean, and her profile strong, she looked neither worried nor scared, but serene.
A burst of adrenaline exploded inside Lou, rushing through his body with the power of a locomotive. He growled.
She startled, turning to face them, surprise plastered all over her face. Her mouth made an oval shape, and then she broke into a smile.
Heat shot through him, anger and fear melding into an emotion so powerful he could barely hold himself to where he stood. Yet he resisted, forcing a calm he didn’t feel, holding back when he wanted to yell and stomp the way Josie had when he’d taken away the cookies she’d filched yesterday morning.
Mary must’ve sensed his mood because she stood slowly, casting a look to James before meeting Lou’s eyes.
“You’re angry,” she stated, and the sound of her smooth voice flavored by exotic syllables only heightened his turmoil. “I can explain.”
“Get in the car.”
Her features changed, becoming impassive. “Thank you for coming to get me.”
He jerked his head to the door and watched as she glided past, head high, shoulders straight. She hadn’t learned that posture from her mother, or from Julia, Trevor’s mom. No, that walk was all Mary. Proud, graceful, aloof... Another growl erupted.
“Let’s go,” he said.
She made it to the car before they did. They found her in the back, staring blankly out the side window and not meeting their eyes. Once they’d cranked his tin lizzie and hit the road, Lou still found it hard to speak. He knew from past experience that yelling at Mary solved nothing.
Not that he liked to yell, but when she stared up at him with those deep brown eyes, passive and quiet, it stirred him up, made him itch to get her to respond to him, not to ignore him the way she did others.
* * *
“What happened, Mary?” James interrupted the horrible silence that had filled the car since they’d picked her up. She could feel tension radiating off Lou and it scared her stiff.
She swallowed hard, afraid to speak, afraid Lou might explode.
He’d never, ever lifted a hand toward her, not even during their most volatile argument years ago when she’d asked to let her mother come live with them. Intellectually, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.
But emotionally... Sometimes she dreamed of the men who’d visited her mother. Sometimes she woke from nightmares, drenched in sweat, trying to rid her mind of the paralyzing fear that overtook her.
“Speak yer mind. I’ll boot this shot-up agent out of the car if he yells, okay?” James cast a crooked smile back at her. She attempted to lift her lips, though the pit of her stomach ached.
She glanced at the back of Lou’s head, marveling at the blondness of his hair, how it had grown too long and remained straight and fine. Not like her own thick locks. She’d inherited the Paiute ebony color but Irish curl. At least that was what her mother had always said.
She frowned. No one had seen Rose. It was as though she’d just disappeared. Kind of how the man with the violet eyes did when the police chief interrupted them on their walk toward town. Her eyes flut
tered closed for a moment as another wave of relief swept through her.
“Mary girl, are you okay?”
She opened them and looked at James. “There was an assault in Burns.”
The car jerked. “What did you say?”
Confident she could keep her voice steady despite the unrest raging inside, she nodded. “I was leading my mare out of town when I heard scuffling. A tethered stallion nearby was restless, so I brought the mare to the other side of the street. Two men in an alley were arguing—”
“You should have rode out of there,” Lou interrupted. His voice was gravelly and raw, completely unlike the talkative man she’d come to know through the years. Somehow this gunshot wound had changed him, and she wasn’t sure why.
“I didn’t want to alert them to my presence,” she responded defensively.
“You did the right thing,” said James.
His backup emboldened her. “As I tried to hurry past, there was a sharp sound, not a gunshot, but something striking a hard object. The horse startled and ran off on me. You should train them better,” she couldn’t help saying pointedly to Lou.
“So, that’s it?” James asked. “Why didn’t you borrow a horse and get on yer way? We’ve worried over you, Mary girl.”
She felt a flash of remorse, followed by unexpected warmth. Though she’d been housekeeper for these two men for twelve years, they’d all kept to themselves, minding their own business while maintaining an unspoken loyalty to each other. Since Josie had come, things had changed. The girl, or perhaps the familial situation, had tempered loyalty into a new bond, something stronger.
“You shouldn’t have worried,” she answered. “Once the sheriff stepped out to speak with me, all was well.”
“What happened with the scuffle you heard?”
The grate of Lou’s tone surprised her, but he was an agent, trained to pick up on minute details. She had been foolish to think she might hide anything from him.
Rocky Mountain Dreams & Family on the Range Page 28