Brandon rubbed the back of his neck.
"The Mayfields have asked for a boy," Owen went on. "And the Thompsons have expressed an interest. The Mayfield couple lost a baby last year. There'll be no more for them."
"I will not farm them out to people for laborers, Owen."
"That's not the case with either of these couples, I promise you. Good God, do you think I'd allow that? Do you think Marcus would ask that of you?" He ran his hand through his sun-shot hair, a lock of it falling across his forehead.
Brandon recognized the gesture. Owen was frustrated, and peeved that Brandon would entertain those thoughts. He smiled, grasping Owen's shoulder as they stood near one another. "No. And I'm sorry. But they're my responsibility now. I have to be certain, if the boys want to go to a new place, that it'll be what they're expecting. A loving home, with decent parents – not a work farm with a burlap bag to sleep on. Can you understand?"
"Of course!"
"Cool down, Doc. We'll figure out something. Allie's going to be the biggest obstacle. She already loves them all, each and every one."
"Sometimes," Owen murmured, "loving something means letting it go, to try its own wings."
Brandon nodded toward the cabin. "Let's go. I'll let you tell her that."
* * * * *
Allie stepped out the open front door with a basket of laundry. Big Mack lay nearby on the porch, watching, but not moving. "You're the only male not working today," she said. "How about giving me a hand with this basket?" He laid his head back on his paws, closing his eyes. "It's okay, Mack. You just get well. I've been worried about you."
And about Brandon. Her eyes immediately sought him, and she was surprised to see him coming toward the house with Owen, both of them looking decidedly somber.
She set the basket down beside Big Mack and called a greeting. "Owen, what brings you out this way? Come have a glass of tea."
"No, thanks, Allie. Just wanted to talk a minute, then I'll need to get on back to town. Promised Marcus I wouldn't be gone long."
Allie sat on the top step, Owen on the bottom, and Brandon leaned negligently against the porch railing.
"Owen has a proposition for us, concerning some of the boys."
Owen cleared his throat, and then said, "Allie, as you probably know by now, some of the boys are thinking about careers other than ranching."
"Yes, some have mentioned it." She felt a tight knot forming in her chest at the thought of losing some of them. "Mark and Lenny have even spoken of wanting to become doctors." She smiled, thinking of little Mark's serious nature.
"Well, Doc Wilkins and I would like to extend the offer to take them."
Allie couldn't speak for a moment. She couldn't bear to think of letting them go. They'd already become dear to her. She looked at Brandon, seeing in a glance that Owen had already broached the subject with him, and that he was in agreement.
She averted her eyes, looking at her hands in her lap. "I see."
"The Mayfields and the Thompsons have also expressed an interest in taking one of the boys, as well."
Allie looked at him, barely able to contain the sharp spark of anger that knifed through her. "Anyone else, Owen? Do you think I brought these boys here to peddle them off to people who needed farm laborers?"
"No. But they'd have good lives with these couples, Allie. The Mayfields are willing to take two boys, if you'll spare them. After losing little Albert last year – well, there'll be no more children for them."
Memories of being called to the great room and lined up when a prospective adoptive couple came to the Benevolent Christian Home filled her thoughts, hammering her mind, numbing her emotions. The younger children were always taken first, unless they were obviously of mixed blood or had some kind of infirmity. The humiliation of being forced to stand and be inspected, wait to be chosen, and then endure the shame of, once again, not being good enough, washed over her. Her palms tingled. She put her head in her hands, and Brandon's hand spanned her back in wordless support and understanding.
"The Mayfields have a nice-sized farm, as you know. The Thompsons live in town, and run the stage and telegraph office there." Owen looked at Brandon. "They're good people, Brandon. Neither of them had anything to do with what happened to you."
Allie knew that what Owen said was true. The Mayfields and the Thompsons were good people and she could trust them to do right by the boys that went to live there.
"Ranching isn't for everyone, Allie," Owen said quietly. "And the Thompsons just want a child. You've got two youngsters who'll find the rigors of ranch life quite taxing. The boy with the club foot, and the one with the withered arm."
"Lonnie and Cedric," Allie said dully.
Owen was quiet a moment. Then, "Operating a stage station and a telegraph could be manageable for either of them."
"They won't want to be separated."
Owen smiled at her in understanding. "They won't have to be. I believe both couples would be glad to take two boys each. Lenny and Mark can realize their dreams of one day becoming fine doctors, and you'll find yourself with only two mouths more than you intended when you started this venture."
Allie looked at Brandon.
"We'll do whatever you want," he said, "but I believe Owen's right in this, Allie. Of course, it'll ultimately be up to the boys. We'll let them choose." He reached to cup her cheek with his hand. "That's something neither one of us had. But every boy here has the freedom to decide, because of this dream of yours."
She would miss the boys that left. But even if every one of them made the decision to take a different path, she would take comfort in knowing that she'd helped them gain not only their independence, but their individuality. And none of them, she thought, would ever have to line up against a wall and hope to be picked to have a home. They'd all have choices. It was going to be fine.
She nodded at Brandon, but the smile wouldn't come. Looking back at Owen, she said, "The sooner the better, Owen. We want to do what's right for them."
* * * * *
It was harder than Allie had imagined it would be, letting the boys go. But she learned something about herself with each goodbye. She was stronger than she thought.
By the next day, a scant twenty-four hours after Owen had visited them, six of the boys had gone to a different life.
While she missed them as soon as they left with their new families, it was an undeniable relief to her to know that they were going to be well-cared for, loved, and have a roof over their heads.
After dinner, the Thompsons had left with Lonnie and Cedric. Owen had come for Mark and Lenny earlier that day, just after breakfast, and had not been gone an hour when the Mayfields came for a visit.
Brandon had suggested David and Rocky, as likely candidates who'd both mentioned having come from farming backgrounds. The boys got along well and were not more than two years apart in age. Allie had thought those two might do best with the Mayfields as well, and it eased her mind to know that Brandon felt the same way.
The other boys who had remained behind seemed content to stay, and the ones who'd gone had left with few regrets and much light-hearted eagerness. They understood they'd be welcome at the Gabriels' anytime. As Jay had solemnly proclaimed, that was part of 'Gabriel's Law'.
Allie smiled to herself as she and Brandon walked arm in arm toward the cabin. He'd sent their boys down to the creek for a swim after the Mayfields left. They'd taken their evening meal, the Mayfields their unexpected guests, and now the daylight was beginning to fade.
"Thirteen, now," Brandon said, low.
"You're not superstitious are you?" Allie teased.
He grinned at her. "I'd feel better if we had fourteen."
She laughed.
"Think they'll make it back to their place by dark?" Brandon asked.
Allie glanced at the sky. "It's a forty-five minute drive to their farm from here. I'll bet David is talking their ears off already."
"Yeah."
Allie turned to him,
stopping at the bottom step of the porch. "What's wrong, Brandon? I know it's not just the boys—"
"No." He sighed. "Now's a good time. Owen had some other news yesterday, but we never had a minute to ourselves. Let's sit here on the porch."
When he finished telling her about the gambler and his connection to Sam, Allie couldn't suppress a shudder that ran through her body. "Have you told Sam yet?"
Brandon shook his head, bringing his gaze to bear on the sunset over her shoulder. "No. Not yet."
"What're you waiting on?"
"I may not tell him at all, Allie."
Allie's eyes narrowed in speculation. "What are you planning?"
He took her hand. "Making another trip into town tomorrow myself. I'm not waiting for that bastard to come after my brother. I'm going after him, first."
"He knows you're here!"
"Yeah," Brandon replied in a deadly tone. "And I know where he is too."
Foreboding squeezed at her chest. "Bran—"
"Shh." He encircled her waist with his arms, putting his mouth over hers. His tongue played over hers, caressing her lips deliciously, stealing her breath as well as her thoughts. "We've got a few minutes to ourselves," he whispered, taking her hand in his. He started up the steps. "I can think of something I'd rather be doing than talking." He glanced back at her, and the look in his eyes made her breath catch, her heart turn over in anticipation.
"We'll have to hurry."
Brandon chuckled, releasing her hand to unbutton his shirt on the way in the door. "I'm glad to oblige."
Chapter 30
Twilight had fallen when the boys began to straggle back to the house. The younger ones came first, racing and laughing; Travis, Jay, and a mixed-blood boy the others called Tiger.
Allie was already dressed, just buttoning the last of her buttons. She turned to look at Brandon who still lay in bed, his skin dark against the white sheets in the shadows.
"Tiger," she said with a smile. "I think that's the first time I've heard him actually laugh since he's been here."
Brandon moved to sit up on the edge of the bed. He pulled his pants on, reaching for his socks and boots.
"I'll go on out," Allie said. "Start getting them settled for the night."
"Maybe you and I'll go for a swim once they're all bedded down." He gave her a quick grin.
She leaned down to kiss him. "That sounds wonderful. I could get used to that."
"I'm thinking of making it part of Gabriel's Law," he teased. "Swimming – every night."
"Or?" She cocked a brow at him, her hand on the doorknob.
He stood up and reached for his shirt. "I'll think of something," he threatened.
She laughed, and pulled the door open. "We'll swim." Coming into the front room, she hurried to light the lamps, turning up the wicks in the falling darkness. Big Mack wasn't in his usual place beside the settee. She stood at the front door and glanced outside at the groups of boys running and playing together. They weren't all back yet. Brandon came to stand behind her, his hand at her waist.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing." But she could hear the uncertainty in her own voice, and she knew he could, too.
"Big Mack's up and around, it looks like."
The place he liked on the porch was empty as well, Allie noticed. He was recovering quickly, but she imagined by now, with full darkness approaching, he would have been back at the house.
She felt Brandon's muscles tighten, and she knew he was counting heads, as she'd just done. "Should be thirteen," he muttered.
"There's only ten."
"Dog's still gone—" he broke off, abruptly releasing her, turning back for the bedroom. The Henry stood in the corner of that room, his gun belt and pistol on the bureau.
Something was wrong. They both felt it. When Brandon came back, the holster was strapped on, low, and he was carrying the rifle.
Allie called to Jay, and he ran to the porch, laughter in his eyes. "Mama, we had the most fun, ever! Tiger an' me an' Travis, we were swimming where the tree hangs out over the creek, an'—"
"Jay, where are the others?" Brandon knelt in front of Jay, his voice serious.
The gaiety fled from Jay's dark eyes. "I don't know." He looked around behind him. "Sam an' Ben were still in the water, but they said for us to come on home."
"Who else? Someone else is missing—" Allie's throat tightened, an inexplicable flutter of fear flitted in her stomach.
Brandon looked past Jay into the darkness. "Here comes someone – no, two of them." He stood up and hurried down the steps, Jay beside him. Allie grabbed a lantern and followed quickly as they closed the distance.
Two of the boys hobbled out of the tree line toward the cabin. Brandon's strides grew longer, until he was running, eating up the distance between them.
Ben stumbled and fell forward, but Brandon dropped the rifle and caught him in his arms at the last possible second. "Ben!"
"'M sorry," he mumbled.
Brandon knelt on the ground, cradling Ben's head.
Allie gasped. She couldn't help it. The lantern she held was the only light they had, but it was plenty. Ben had been beaten, his nose streaming blood, his right eye swelling shut.
The younger boy, James, shook like a leaf in the wind. Brandon quickly looked Ben over for more serious wounds, then glanced up into James's face. "What happened?" When James didn't answer, Brandon grabbed his shoulders. "What happened, James?"
"There was a-a man! At the creek. We were leaving, and he just came out of nowhere." Suddenly, he turned away and vomited, clutching at his stomach.
Brandon cursed under his breath, his attention on Ben again.
"You think it's Isaac?" Allie asked Brandon softly. She laid a comforting hand on James's back as he managed to control his spasming stomach. Fear rippled through his thin shoulders. What had that man done to him? Her back stiffened.
"Gotta be."
Ben slowly moved to a crouch, then with Brandon's help, stood.
"What about Sam?" Brandon asked.
"He tried to fight him…couldn't…" Ben spat blood, then said, "He took him. He said now he'd have protection for as long as he needed. Now that Sam had something to lose."
"What would that be?" Brandon asked.
"You," Ben answered miserably. "He knows you're Sam's brother."
* * * * *
White-hot anger scalded through Brandon. He picked up the rifle he'd dropped moments earlier, turning to Allie.
Her eyes were wide and worried in the dim lamp light, but she knew as well as he that he had no choice but to go after Isaac. Alone.
"Allie, send Jay and James to town for Owen. Jay knows the way, and James knows what this man looks like—" He broke off, unwilling to say that he believed Owen knew how to use a gun almost as well as he did. The boys didn't need to know that. He hadn't mentioned the obvious – it wouldn't matter that Owen knew what Isaac looked like, unless Sam was no longer with him. If Sam struggled, he might decide killing him would be easier than taking him along.
James spoke up quickly. "I'll go get him."
Allie gave him a nod. "You all hurry, James," she said unnecessarily, as the boy took off at a run across the tall grass.
Brandon turned to her and planted a swift kiss on her mouth. "I'll be back, soon as I can."
"You're not waiting for Owen?"
Brandon shook his head. "No. They could be long gone by then."
"How will he find you? He's no tracker, Brandon."
"Travis is," Ben said.
"Travis is a kid, Ben. What is he? Twelve? Thirteen?"
"I know, but he tracks as well as any man." As an afterthought, he said, "Fourteen, I think. Not too much younger'n Sam and me."
Old enough, then, Brandon thought. "You go back and wait for the doctor—"
"I'm comin' with you."
"Ben, I can't wait for you." Brandon was impatient to get moving.
"You won't have to. I'll keep up."
The deter
mination in Ben's tone was new. Brandon recognized that he was not going to be left back. Sam was Brandon's brother, but he was Ben's best friend.
"All right, let's get going." He handed Ben the rifle, then looked at Allie. "We'll start where they were swimming and probably will head into the woods south of there – that'll provide lots of cover, and hiding for Isaac and Sam. I figure that'll be what he'll do. I'm hoping Sam will convince him that we don't want him back; that I won't bother to come after him. That may be what keeps him safe."
* * * * *
But two hours later, when Brandon and Ben heard voices ahead of them, it was obvious that Sam was doing anything but what Brandon had hoped for and expected him to do.
"My brother will come after me, and when he does, your ass is his."
Brandon closed his eyes briefly. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. The note of assurance and pride in Sam's tone struck Brandon's heart. He wanted nothing more than to close the dark space between him and the man who held his brother hostage, and prove Sam right. He wanted to feel the man's neck beneath his hands as he squeezed the life from him. Sam would never be safe as long as Isaac Gabriel lived.
Brandon grasped Ben's arm in silent warning as Sam's voice drifted back to them on the still night air.
A deep laugh sounded. Confident. Certain. "That brother of yours doesn't give a shit if you live or die, boy. Best understand that, now. He's a hired gun, and that kind doesn't care about anything or anyone but themselves."
"He does."
"Bullshit! He'll be glad to lose one more mouth to feed from that litter of homeless puppies he took in."
"That's not true!"
Brandon moved forward stealthily, Ben close behind him. They were gaining on Isaac and Sam, though Brandon still couldn't make out their figures in the blackness of the woods. They practically had to feel their way, he and Ben, as they moved forward, with only inches separating them.
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