Dorothy Garlock - [Colorado Wind 03]

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Dorothy Garlock - [Colorado Wind 03] Page 8

by Wind of Promise


  Vanessa had to admit that Mary Ben was wonderfully patient with Henry. She answered his questions and didn’t talk to him as if he were a child, like some people did. She seemed to be more at ease with Henry than with her and Ellie.

  Mary Ben’s eyes strayed often to Vanessa. They had exchanged very few words. Mary Ben shied away from her, not knowing what to say. Even in shirt and pants she was the prettiest woman Mary Ben had ever seen. The firelight shone on her hair, reminding Mary Ben of a bright new penny. She looked down at her own faded, patched dress and the toe peeking through the end of her shoe. She had always been too busy trying to get enough to eat or stay out of the reach of men who tried to grab her to worry about how she looked. Just to be decently covered had been enough.

  Mister raised his head and stared into the darkness. Mary Ben placed her hand on his neck and felt him shiver. The dog lowered his sagging jowls to her lap, his eyes riveted to the spot in the darkness at the end of their wagon. He continued to shiver as she stroked his head.

  John got up and carried his plate and cup to the pan of water beside the fire. Mary Ben made a small hissing sound to get his attention as he passed. She patted Mister’s head with one hand; the other hand fluttered up to push back her hair, a finger pointing toward the darkness beyond their wagon. The old man made no sign that he’d gotten the message.

  “Them vittles was mighty larrupin’ ’n plumb fillin’, ma’am. I’ll mosey on out ’n see to the stock. Mary Ben, I reckon ya ort a turn in.”

  Vanessa turned to look at the girl when she got to her feet. Mary Ben stared straight into her puzzled eyes, then rolled hers in the direction she had indicated to John. Comprehension dawned and Vanessa stood. Her knees began to tremble, then spread to the muscles in her legs as tension came over her. Would they never know peace again?

  “What? Who?” she mouthed.

  Mary Ben lifted her shoulders. “Somebody.” She bent down and pulled some of the larger sticks of wood from the fire and the blaze died down.

  “We don’t even take time to visit,” Ellie said disgustedly, and carried the dishpan to the shelf on the side of the wagon.

  Henry was disappointed. He had looked forward to spending the evening with Mary Ben. He threw the rest of his coffee in the fire and stood up. It suddenly occured to him that something had happened and they were not telling him. Vanessa was whispering to his mother, and she had a frightened, serious look on her face. Why didn’t they tell him what was going on? He moved a step closer to Mary Ben and looked down on her bent head.

  “What’s going on, Mary Ben? Why did John tell you to turn in?”

  She looked up into his face and saw the confusion in his eyes. “Mister heard somebody prowlin’ around ’n Mr. Wisner’s gone to see about it,” she whispered. “He said for me to turn in cause it ain’t a good idey for us all to be bunched up this a way. I’ll go to the wagon, ’n it’d be good if ya sit right here till Mr. Wisner comes back.”

  She searched his eyes to see if he understood. Seconds passed. She held her breath for fear he’d repeat in a loud voice what she had said. Then the confused look faded from his eyes and a smile began to twitch at his lips. The corners of his eyes crinkled. He was breathtakingly handsome. But it was much more than his looks that made Mary Ben’s heart flood with a happiness that shone in the brilliant smile she returned. For just an instant they were united in an understanding that included just the two of them.

  A surge of pleasure rushed through Henry when he saw her smile. Mary Ben liked him! She told him things. Suddenly he threw an arm around her shoulders. The hug he gave her was a wholesome, friendly gesture, but Mary Ben didn’t understand that. She froze. Touching to her was grabbing, pinching, and wanting to pull her clothes off.

  Henry’s arm dropped from around her and his large hands gripped her shoulders without his knowing she was on the verge of panic.

  “You be careful, hear? Don’t worry. I’ll be right over yonder where I can watch your wagon. I’ll not let anybody hurt you, Mary Ben,” he told her, his voice suddenly thick.

  She nodded, unable to speak over the lump that rose in her throat.

  Chapter Five

  It was a still, moonless night. Vanessa sat on a box at the end of the wagon and Henry sat on the ground beside her. He had insisted on standing watch with her and she was glad for his company. Ellie had taken the first watch after John returned. He reported that he had seen and heard nothing unusual and said that he would bed down near the stock.

  They had talked for awhile; now they were silent and slowly the minutes went by. Vanessa’s hand slid up and down the barrel of the shotgun leaning against her thigh, and she began to speculate on how it would feel to shoot a man. She was startled to realize that she had come to accept the idea with no accompanying sense of guilt. Was the hard land making her hard too, or was her attitude born of the instinct to survive? No matter, she told herself. She would do what she had to do to protect herself, Ellie and Henry.

  “Vanessa, are you ever going to get married?”

  In the stillness that enclosed them after Henry’s whispered words, Vanessa swallowed her surprise so she could answer calmly.

  “I don’t know. I’ve not met anyone I want to marry. Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “I bet Mr. DeBolt would marry you.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “You’re pretty. I never thought about you being pretty until we come on this trip. Most women are ugly and frown all the time. They wear dirty aprons and their hair slicked back tight. You and Ma are pretty, and you smell nice, too.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I think Mary Ben’s pretty. She likes me and talks to me.”

  “I noticed that. Henry . . .” Vanessa turned to look at his shadowy face. There was nothing pretentious about Henry. His thoughts and feelings were uttered honestly as they came to him. His trusting acceptance of whatever advice she gave him made her choose her words carefully. “I don’t think Mary Ben has had many friends. You and Mary Ben can be friends, but that doesn’t mean she thinks of you as a beau.”

  “You mean she don’t want to be my sweetheart?”

  “I mean that . . . it takes time to get to know someone that well, and they’ll be leaving us in a week or two.”

  “I didn’t know that. Why can’t they go with us to Junction City?”

  “Because Mr. Wisner wants to go to Cripple Creek and look for gold.”

  “Mary Ben could come with us.”

  “Her place is with her father. I’m sure she wants to be with him.”

  “Mr. Wisner’s not her father.”

  “Well, for goodness sake! How do you know that?”

  “Mary Ben told me when I was driving their wagon. Mr. Wisner found her down in Indian Territory. She was all by herself, just her and Mister.”

  Vanessa was silent while she absorbed the information. She was sure that Henry was feeling something more than friendship for Mary Ben. She and Ellie had talked about the possibility of Henry falling in love, but now that it could be happening, she didn’t know how to deal with it. He couldn’t take care of himself much less a wife. And if there were children—

  Without a hint of a warning someone was beside her. Before she could even gasp, a hand jerked the barrel of the shotgun from her grasp.

  “Whoa, now. I don’t want you to shoot me, Vanessa.”

  It was him! Vanessa’s heart flooded with relief and then with anger because he had startled her.

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed.

  “That’s a fine way to greet me.”

  “Why are you always sneaking around? Where have you been?”

  “Why? Have you missed me?” She didn’t answer and he chuckled. “How are you doing, Henry?”

  “Fine, Mr. DeBolt. You sure don’t make any noise. I didn’t hear you either.”

  “You and Vanessa were so busy talking you wouldn’t have heard a herd of wild horses.”

  “Were you out
there spying on our camp tonight?” Vanessa felt the heat on her cheeks and a fluttering in her stomach.

  “I wanted to talk to John.”

  “Then why didn’t you come in and talk to him?”

  “You ask a lot of questions. Henry, does she ever shut up and listen?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Well, she’d better listen now, because she might have some company before morning. There’s a bunch of slack handed drifters camped about a half mile down the draw, Vanessa. One of them is the kid you worked over with the shovel in Dodge. They passed you yesterday and they know you’re here.

  “Well, for goodness sake! That doesn’t mean they’ll bother us.” Vanessa hated him for making her so tense and nervous.

  Kain ignored her outburst. “I thought they would turn south and take the Cimarron cutoff. They still plan to do that, but that young bully wants to get even with you first. He’s talking up the idea that because of your fancy rig you may have a lot of money. He’s thinking they’ll waltz in here and hold you up.”

  “How do you know? You—” She stopped because she was having trouble breathing. She took a deep breath. This man was overwhelming. She desperately needed to be delivered out of his presence, and she wondered where miracles were when she needed them.

  “My sneaking ability comes in handy. As a matter of fact, I consider myself a first-class sneaker. I sneaked up on their camp and heard them talking. I’ve talked to John and here’s what we’re going to do: We’ll let them come in, then we’ll bash a few heads.”

  “Why don’t we just shoot them?” she hissed angrily.

  “My, you’re bloodthirsty. I’ll not shoot them if I don’t have to. No. This situation calls for head bashing. Want to join the fun, Henry?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “You leave Henry out of this!”

  “That isn’t for you to say, Vanessa. It’s up to Henry.”

  “Damn you! Who the hell do you think you are coming here and ordering Henry around?”

  “Don’t swear, little red bird. I’m not ordering Henry, I’m asking. Henry gets enough orders from you.”

  “Well, I never!”

  “Vanessa?” Ellie called. “Who’s out there?”

  “Kain Debolt, Aunt Ellie.”

  “Well, isn’t that nice. Do you want coffee, Mr. DeBolt? Or something to eat? We have beef stew.”

  “No, thank you, Mrs. Hill.” He bent toward Vanessa. “At least your aunt likes me!”

  Even in the dark, Kain could see her white face and shining hair. He didn’t understand himself at all. There was something in the tension charged atmosphere when he was near this woman that compelled him to irritate her and act the fool. He had never been like this with anyone else. He was purely crazy, he thought. She threw his mind completely out of circuit. He would have to be careful of her, he warned himself. He wanted to reach out and slide his fingers along her cheek and into her hair. Vanessa, Vanessa, sweet woman-child . . . The way he felt this minute downright scared him.

  “Mrs. Hill?” he called. “Can you keep this little red bird in the wagon and out of trouble for the rest of the night?”

  “Well . . . what . . . damn you!”

  “Mind me this time, Vanessa, or I’ll give you something to sputter about. You need a strong hand to hold you in line and curb your rebellious nature.”

  Vanessa drew in a deep breath. Her temper was on the verge of exploding.

  “Oh my goodness!” Ellie climbed down out of the wagon looking like a ghost in her long white gown. “We’ll be glad to do as you say, Mr. DeBolt. Won’t we, dear?”

  Kain chuckled. “Vanessa would rather swallow a toad than do as I say. But no matter. She’d better do it . . . this time. You ladies stay in the wagon. If we need you to rescue us, we’ll call you. Won’t we, Henry?”

  Henry laughed, and it added to Vanessa’s irritation as she followed her aunt into the wagon. “That man sets my teeth on edge, gets my back up, and makes my blood boil! He’s so damn sure of himself. He’s got Henry thinking he’s the greatest thing since fire! If anything happens to Henry I’ll shoot him!”

  “Somehow I think he’s trying to help Henry. I’m thinking maybe we’ve been wrong, Vanessa, in not forcing Henry to take more responsibility.”

  “It’s too dangerous to start teaching Henry that now, Aunt Ellie. And I’m not going to sit here twiddling my thumbs. This wagon and what’s in it is all we have in the world, and I’m going to be out there protecting it.”

  “Please be calm, dear. Mr. DeBolt said you should stay in the wagon.”

  “I’m not taking his orders. You may think every word he says is pure gospel, but I don’t.”

  “He just . . . well, he just seems to know what he’s doing, and he’s trying to help us. He’s like Mr. Wisner. If we get out of this awful country it will be because of them.” There was a pleading note in Ellie’s voice, and Vanessa had to harden her heart against it.

  “I’m going out. Here’s the rifle. Don’t shoot unless someone is forcing his way in.” Vanessa opened the door and eased herself out into the darkness.

  She moved cautiously along the side of the wagon as silently as a shadow, then ventured out away from it and pressed herself against the trunk of a tall oak tree. The camp was still except for the usual night sounds. An owl hooted nearby, and from far away came an answer. Vanessa drew cool air deep into her lungs, air touched with the faint scent of the wet ashes of their campfire.

  It seemed to her that hours passed while she waited and listened. Where were Henry and Kain? Where was Mr. Wisner? If the robbers come she would not panic, Vanessa told herself. Someone had said that panic only filled an empty mind. She would think of something—anything. But she wouldn’t waste another thought on that conceited, arrogant, know-it-all, Kain DeBolt. She still had to thank him for getting their mules back. He’d probably throw her thanks back in her face. The idea of him having the gall to ask her if she had missed him! Well, his charm might work on Henry and Aunt Ellie, but it didn’t work on her!

  And then she heard it, the soft sound of footsteps muffled by the thick grass. Warning herself that she must be careful not to hit the wrong man, she gripped the barrel of the shotgun in her two hands like a club. A movement to the side caught her eye. It stopped and she saw the outline of a man in a wide-brimmed hat. He was too short to be Henry or Kain, and too thin to be Mr. Wisner. She concentrated all her attention on the shadowy figure as it approached and stopped on the other side of the tree. Whoever it was had the rancid, unclean odor of one long unbathed.

  Vanessa slowly drew the shotgun back. Anger washed over her like a tidal wave. The low life, chicken-livered sidewinder! He was here to take their money. If he thought they would be easy victims of his thievery, he would soon find out how mistaken he was. The man was unaware of her, but so close she could hear him breathing. Realizing he would discover her any second, she swung the butt of the shotgun at his face with all her strength.

  The wooden stock struck with a dull smack. The man cried out and staggered back. She followed and swung again. This time the blow caught him on the side of the head. He grabbed for the gun she was using as a club, but she jerked it away and jabbed at his face.

  “You sneaking polecat!” she shouted and struck out wildly. “Snake! Robber! Dirty stinking dog!” He grabbed for the gun. It slipped from his hand and she brought it down with a chopping motion. It missed his head and struck his shoulder. He lost his footing and fell.

  “You dirty little swine! I ought to beat your head in!” Vanessa continued her attack, aiming for any part of his body. He grabbed her pant leg and she kicked him in the face.

  “Stop it! You damn hellcat! Ah, shee . . . it!”

  Suddenly she heard a shot, a deafening roar, and saw a flash of flame. She reeled backward to regain her balance, panting for breath. The damn little weasel had shot at her!

  Kain’s strong arm swept her aside and his tall form loomed over the man on the ground. He kicked the
gun from his hand.

  “Hold him, Henry!” he commanded.

  Henry fell on top of the man who was struggling to rise.

  “Vanessa! Are you all right?”

  “I . . . hit him. With this.”

  “Goddamn it, I told you to stay in the wagon.” Kain seized her by the arms and shook her. “Don’t you ever do what you’re told? You could have been killed.”

  “But I wasn’t!” She jerked away from his grasp.

  “Vanessa! Henry! Oh, my God!” Ellie came stumbling out of the wagon. “Are you all right?”

  “We’re all right.”

  “Thank God! Oh, thank God! I was so scared.”

  “Somebody light a lantern. Hold on to that bastard, Henry. His three friends will have headaches in the morning and I’m thinking he’d rather have one than what he’s got.”

  “Oh, Henry!” Ellie’s eyes were fastened on her son. She pressed her balled fist to her mouth. She had never seen him use physical force on another person.

  Mary Ben came out with a lantern and the light shone on the bloody face of the young bully who had fought Henry in Dodge City. His nose was obviously broken, his lip split, and one eye was rapidly swelling shut. Blood ran from a gash on his cheekbone to his chin. He rolled his head from side to side and whimpered with pain. Henry sat astride him.

  Vanessa was startled when she saw the boy’s face. She had done that? What sort of person was she becoming?

  “I hit him too hard!”

  “Not too hard.” Kain grinned. “But you sure whacked him a good one. There’s blood on your gun butt.”

  “I didn’t know. I didn’t realize—”

  “The poor boy’s nose is broken,” Ellie moaned.

  “Poor boy?” Kain snorted. “The bloody little bastard came to rob you. He deserved anything he got. I should break his damn leg to teach him a lesson. Let him up, Henry.”

 

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