Mary swallowed. “She is. And you and I are friends, always.” Much as it hurt to say, she could never deny him that.
“You’ve always had such loyalty. I envy it. My own family refused to speak to me for years because of my work with the bureau, and it’s tough for me to forgive them. But I look at how you treat your ma, I see the love of God in your actions....” He trailed off before saying, “The way you live encourages me to live better.”
She shifted, uncomfortable with his praise. With the entire situation, really. If he only knew. She looked at him and saw how he gazed at her, his eyes like sapphires in the sun. She wanted to remember this moment forever. Wanted to memorize the lines of his face, to touch them and carve them into the tips of her fingers, to hold on to always.
“I’m not perfect,” she blurted. “Langdon said my mother led him to me. All she cared about was finding my father. If not for her, I would have never been kidnapped. I might be married, with a family. Emotionally whole.” Her voice caught and she couldn’t continue.
Her throat felt tight and raw. She waited for Lou’s shock, but it didn’t come. Instead, he winced. The minuscule movement stunned her. It was a physical blow. She staggered back, the pulse of her blood surging and then slowing, her lungs constricting until she thought she might never breathe again.
And yet she did. A deep, oxygen-filled inhalation borne of necessity.
“You knew,” she whispered on her exhale.
“I knew.” His eyes met hers. Apologetic.
Her hand shot out and connected with his cheek. He didn’t move, not even when the mark from her hand suffused an angry red. She swallowed hard, her whole body aflame, her palm smarting. He’d known...for how long? How many secrets did he hold? How much more did he keep from her? She’d been very wrong to trust him.
“Secrets do not make a friendship,” she said coldly. His face was blank, as if unaffected by her anger. So be it. She was done with this man, with everything. Never again would she allow herself to dream of him, to relive his recent kisses and his tender words over the years.
Shaking, she whirled and forced her trembling knees to march to the train, just as it let out another ear-splitting whistle.
Let Lou seek his revenge. Let him ignore the God who cared for him. Let him reject the woman who would have given him her all.
She was done with him and everything he represented.
Her eyes burned as she stepped onto the train and searched the seats for a familiar face. She had Josie, and she was going home.
She would have a family, with or without Lou Riley.
* * *
The heart was the biggest betrayer of all.
Mary discovered that unfortunate tidbit when she couldn’t stop dreaming about Lou during the journey home. She’d see him stretching out his hand, asking for help, but her pride kept her heart far from him.
No.
Her broken feelings were the culprit, not pride, for even seeing him in her dreams caused her to wake with dried tears upon her cheek.
The bright spot in her life was Josie. Between her and Gracie’s excited chatter, there was little time during the days’ travel to pine over Lou. Only at night did he steal her sleep.
Finally, weary and dirty, they arrived at the ranch. Josie pounded up the steps, yelling for James. Gracie bounced around in excitement before grabbing Trevor for a long kiss. He embraced her, the quiet smile on his face testament to his love for his young bride.
God had changed him so deeply.... Could He do the same for Mary? Give her peace with how things had ended with Lou?
Feeling unsettled and scattered, Mary stepped out of the neighbor’s wagon. James had been unable to meet their train due to ranch duties, and so Mr. Horn had come to fetch them.
“Don’t forget the potluck next month,” he said from his perch on the wagon seat. “It’s our last meeting with food before the cold weather shows up. We’ve got a special afternoon of preaching and then supper and music. Miss Alma has everything planned out.”
“We’ll be there,” Mary said feebly.
Mr. Horn inclined his head and then took off, his team of horses digging up the road and clouding the air with desert dirt. Summer in Harney County was dry and sunny. The climate remained the same. Not like her feelings, which had been flung about in a tornado of change.
Everyone had gone into the house, but she stayed outside, longing for freedom from the cage she’d put herself in. Not only did she feel guilty for saying what she had to Lou, but she dreaded seeing her mother.
It had been easy to forgive her when she’d understood a woman’s need to find her husband. It was much harder now, knowing the nightmare of her past could have been prevented if only her mother had kept quiet. Examined more deeply Langdon’s inquiry. Anything but flippantly giving out her daughter’s whereabouts in exchange for her husband’s.
She gripped her luggage and slowly walked to her house, leaving the ranch house behind. She must face her mother at some point. Now, with no audience, seemed best.
And yet her feet dragged. Knowing Trevor’s mother had sold her hurt, but she’d been aware of Julia’s character and hadn’t been surprised. What her mother had done was a different matter.
A strong wind blew at her hair. How she wished it would also blow away this knowledge of her mother’s unwitting betrayal.
Eventually she reached the house. Her mother stood near the gate, hair unplaited, eyes the deep black of the Paiute. Grimness painted her face into grooves and shadows. Her skirt whipped around her ankles and familiarity washed over Mary.
She’d wanted her mother here. Longed to see her restored to the laughing, beautiful woman of her youth. Maybe somehow she’d thought this would do the same for her, that if her mother was healed of her past, then she could be, also.
Did that mean she’d only been thinking of herself? That her motives had always been more selfish than she’d realized?
She stepped forward, eyes on her mother, a frown niggling at her lips.
“My daughter.” Rose spoke quietly, and the breeze diluted her words into a faint sound of pleading.
She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t face her or accuse her. Better to leave things in the past.
“This morning James brought me a telegram from Lou,” said Rose without blinking. “He wrote that you know what I never wished to confess. Do you understand his hatred for me now? Can you see why I hesitated to intrude in your home?”
Mary’s mouth was so dry she could taste the desert upon her tongue.
“I have packed my bags and stayed only to tell you one thing—I am sorry, with the deepest regret a human can feel. This sorrow is a wound within my soul that does not heal. Nor should it. I have prayed to the spirits that you may have a good life. A blessed life with strong loves and much goodness.” Rose blinked and a single tear edged from beneath her lashes. “You deserved more than what I gave you.”
“Mother...” Mary dipped her head, hiding from the pain on her mother’s face. She wanted to comfort her somehow, to ease her pain. God help me.
Seventy times seven.
The scripture reverberated through her. Like a seedling on the wind, dropped into the soil of her heart, and with her acceptance of His words, a new feeling spread through her. She lifted her head, feeling different, alive, helped. She stepped forward and before her mother could respond, embraced her.
She hugged her tightly for several moments, inhaling the wind in her mother’s hair and the cedar scent that clung to her skin from her basket weaving.
When she felt able to speak, she pulled back and looked her mother in the eyes. “You speak of spirits and blessing. I am blessed and healed by One, my mother. The One who created me. He also created you, and loves you. Though my life has had pain, it has not lacked comfort.”
Rose nodded slowly, her lips trembling. “I have seen the
peace on your face and wondered at it.”
“Yes.” Mary felt the smile start in her heart and work to her face. “My Bible says God is our comfort so that we can be a comfort to others.”
“The white man’s God is trouble.” Her mother frowned.
Mary’s smile wavered. “No. He has been my peace. And now, in His name, I offer you forgiveness.”
Rose shivered as though the parched breath of desert wind sliced through her very bones.
“Please stay and live with me,” Mary continued, feeling the wobble in her voice. “I love you, and though what you did hurts, I know we can be healed.”
“How can you forgive me?” Her mother’s eyes welled with tears. They dripped down her cheeks, filling the grooves like flooded riverbeds.
“Because...no one is perfect. Not one person but Christ Himself. I choose this path, Mother. Please walk it with me.” Mary held out her hand, afraid, hoping her mother would take it, that she would pass from the shadowlands where she’d lived for too long.
After what seemed an interminable wait, her mother reached for her and burst into tears. Taken aback but feeling weepy herself, Mary allowed her mother to gather her into her arms.
She hadn’t known she would forgive her mother, not until she’d seen that pain upon her face. Forgiveness was the right thing to do, and she hoped she would have done it anyway, whether or not her mother felt regret. But she did, and it was as though a piece of Mary’s heart finally felt respite.
She rested her cheek against her mother’s shoulder, and her thoughts turned to Lou. She hoped he’d find Mr. Langdon, because she had no doubt Josie’s uncle would come looking for them at the ranch—it was only a matter of time.
Then perhaps Lou would run to Asia again. Maybe stay there this time, because to face his sorrows, to forgive God for the pain in his life, had proved too hard for him.
She hoped the best for him, she really did. But she also hoped for herself, because there was one part of her heart, a large portion, that might never be free unless she could let him go.
And right now, letting go wasn’t even something she could imagine.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
A sea of ebony stretched before Lou. The image altered. A woman, small and gently curved, stood at the door. Glossy strands of her hair glistened beneath a milky moon. Her face... He couldn’t see her face. He moved closer, his pulse thumping through him in quick, steady beats.
If only he could see her somehow. It wasn’t Sarah. Her hair was blond. And she was gone, wasn’t she? Gone forever. He waited for the familiar ache to surge through him, but it didn’t arrive. Instead, he drew closer to the woman before him, the one whose expression he couldn’t see. But he wanted to. He wanted to touch her skin, to see laughter light her eyes.
Moonlight flowed over her slight shoulders, undulating into the room where he stayed. He moved quickly, needing to reach her, but the moment his hand connected to her sleeve, she vanished and he awoke. He blinked, his eyes gritty and his feelings raw.
Mary’s face swam before him, the way she’d looked when he’d kissed her that second time. Soft and dewy. In love.
And she’d said it, too. Said that she loved him, with luminous eyes and trust in her voice. Idiot that he was, he’d thrown her feelings in her face. Remembering how he’d mentioned Sarah, he groaned and pressed his palms against his eyes.
Enough whining. He’d made his bed and it was the best one for him. Common sense told him Mary needed a good man with a whole heart and a spiritual bent. What could he offer her? A house. That was about it.
You make her smile.
Okay, so he could give her some good stories. So what?
She trusts you.
Not anymore. Not since she found out he’d known her mother exposed her whereabouts to Langdon.
Muttering, he sat up and threw the flimsy blanket off his legs. He had a criminal to hunt down, and today was his last day to find him before shipping out for Hong Kong. If he didn’t arrest Langdon today, he’d have to leave the duty to his team, and that wasn’t going to happen.
This was his man and he’d get him no matter what.
He hurried out of bed, dressed and went in search of his junior agents.
* * *
“You’re sure he’s here?” Lou gazed dubiously at the rickety house in front of them. The structure seemed barely capable of standing against such a steep wind.
“Yep. I’ve been here several times in the past few years. They let the hooch sit here a spell after the drop-offs and then slowly move it out.” O’Leary shaded his forehead against the sunset. “Langdon doesn’t usually do the dirty work, but with heat on him, he’s probably hiding out here. We’ve taken down his other spots and put the word out that we’re done with the search. He’s an arrogant fellow, usually handles the money and the politics. He doesn’t suppose we’ll keep looking for him now that we’ve got some success on the table.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” said Lou grimly. Getting Langdon would be a real coup, not just professionally but personally, too. And if they couldn’t get him on the shooting charge, they’d have a smuggling charge to put him away for a while.
He eyed the house. “Best way in?”
O’Leary, whom he’d specifically requested work at his side, gestured to the right. “Around back there’s a cellar door. We’ll drop in there and work our way up.”
“Let’s go.” Lou and the four other men who made up their team followed O’Leary to the back. He located a heavy door set into the incline leading up to the abandoned house. The moan of the wind disguised the hinge’s whine when O’Leary and Lou opened the cellar.
“It’s not padlocked because the men use it routinely, and they don’t expect theft in this place.”
Lou glanced over his shoulder as the agents filed in. No other lights were visible on this rugged portion of Oregon landscape. Even the roads didn’t come this far. They’d hiked a jagged path to reach the house. O’Leary had done his work well. Lou planned on making sure he received a commendation for it.
He dropped down after the last agent, leaving the cellar door open. The cold damp hit him square in the face and he suppressed a shiver. They followed O’Leary up the stairs quietly, and listened for sounds.
Nothing.
The lights had been on in the upper parts of the house. O’Leary nudged the door open and Lou slid through first, revolver ready, back against the wall. He eased into what looked like the kitchen in the waning light. He cocked his head, listening, but only heard the shushed sound of the other men filtering into the room. They spread out in a tactical offense formation.
Lou used his gun to gesture upward. O’Leary nodded. He gave the other men the sign to scope out the rest of the house while he and Lou made their way to the next set of stairs. Positioned in the living room, the narrow staircase had obviously been built for much smaller people.
Lou semisquatted his way up the stairs, keeping O’Leary behind him. He didn’t like casualties on his watch. Knew they happened, but not when he could help it. As they touched the top step, the crackle of a radio reached their hearing. He craned his head around the corner.
Unbelievable.
A short hiss escaped his lips, lost beneath the soft jazz emanating from the room. Langdon sat in a chair, head between his hands... Alone. No one else present that Lou could tell. The closet was open. A single window.
Wait, there might be a hallway.... He shifted a bit forward. Yes. An open door to Langdon’s right looked like a hallway leading to other rooms. He’d go around, then, and leave O’Leary here.
He pulled back, motioned for the agent to stay put and went to the right. The narrow hall creaked with every step. He kept his gun ready, his eyes open until he reached a doorway on his left. Peeking in, he caught a glimpse of shaggy brown hair and blankets. Langdon’s guard asleep on the bed.
<
br /> That made things easy. He zipped into the bedroom and took care of the guard. He’d sleep for a few hours and wake up with a headache.
Satisfied, he stalked to the door that led to Langdon’s room. He paused in the entry, aimed his gun and said softly, “I didn’t take you for stupid.”
Langdon startled, whipping his head up and looking wildly around. His eyes were bloodshot, his chin whiskered. Dirty light filtered in from the small window behind him.
“Had a tough time lately?” Lou goaded. “Lost your girl, business is shut down, times are hard all around. Where’re your goons? The one sleeping in the bed was easy to take care of. I expected more from you.” He showed his teeth in what might pass as a smile to some. “Stand up.”
Langdon glared at him but did as he said. “I hope you have a warrant.” His sneer was filled with arrogance.
“Got it and more. You’re facing quite a bit of time, you know. Your cohorts are snitches, every one of them. Got no loyalty to you.”
“You have nothing.”
“I’ve an eyewitness to attempted murder.”
“Who?” he scoffed.
Lou’s lips twitched. “Me.”
Langdon’s face visibly paled. His eyes darted. “Says who? I want my lawyer.”
“You’ll get him. Make no mistake about that. In the meantime, why don’t we have a little chat. Off the record.” Lou used his shoe to flip the door behind him closed. He stepped into the room, keeping his revolver trained on his quarry. No doubt Langdon had some kind of pistol stored on his person.
“I’m not talking.”
“Sure you are. We’ll just have a nice little chat about Mary.” Lou looked down the barrel of his .38. “She’s a special lady. You’ve had your eye on her for a long time, and the way I figure things, your time is about up. In fact, it’s been up.”
Rocky Mountain Dreams & Family on the Range Page 46