Knight on the Texas Plains

by Linda Broday

  For a second, slow disappointment curled around her heart like the charred edges of a burned love letter. Until she reminded herself a fine man like him deserved someone respectable, not someone who didn’t know what the next sunrise would bring.

  “Now, where are my nephews?” he continued. “Where are George and Henry?”

  A big smile lit up Marley’s face as Vicky tugged her from Duel’s arms.

  “Duel, this is the most precious child!” The woman hugged the chubby bundle tight. “Let’s move to the parlor and get comfortable. Speaking of the kids, I have a surprise for you myself. You have nieces as well as nephews.”

  “Do tell. How many do you have to keep up with now, Vicky?”

  “Only four. The twins, Betsy and Becky, came about a year after you left. Roy and Papa offered to give me a break today. They took them to see if the fish are biting.”

  “Pop?” Duel propped the Stetson on a table and sank into a cross-stitched chair. “How’s he doing?”

  “Broke his leg trying to take care of the farm when you lit out of here for God knows where. Papa wanted to keep it up in case you had a notion to remember your roots. Finally gave up. He’s moved in with us now.” Though Victoria evidently loved her brother, her sharp rebuke seemed to hit a sore spot.

  From the worn velvet sofa, Jessie watched Duel’s jaw clench and suspected he struggled with strong guilt. She wondered what would make a man leave everything behind and disappear? Only something so awful that it took a body’s reason for living. She knew all too well about that. The thought popped into her mind that he might take off again after she left. How stable was he? The likelihood that he might leave poor little Marley here with Vicky brought a bitter taste to her mouth. The child had already been abandoned once. Twice could leave deep emotional scars. Besides, a man should raise his own children, whether he fathered them or not.

  A few nights ago by the light of the campfire, Duel had explained about Marley’s true father and the poker game. She couldn’t imagine anyone selling their flesh and blood, and that Duel would care for Marley as his own had touched a tender chord within her. In her opinion, nothing could be more satisfying than holding your babe in your arms.

  She’d almost had that pleasure—until Jeremiah snatched it from her grasp. Now her arms and her belly would remain forever empty.

  “Jessie, can I get you something? I can make hot tea, some coffee maybe, or food if you’ve not eaten.”

  Vicky’s question pulled her back to the present, yet she was unable to shed the heavy sorrow that also accompanied her memories. A real family, that’s what made living worthwhile. Though it was too late for her, she prayed Marley Rose would have the chance.

  The smell of fresh-baked bread filled every nook and cranny in the house. Ignoring the growls from her stomach took exceptional concentration. Despite her watering mouth, she considered her manners. “A cup of hot tea would be nice.”

  While the teapot boiled, Jessie accepted Vicky’s generous offer to use her bedroom to wash off a little of the grime collected on the trail. When she returned, she caught the woman’s angry hiss and hesitated outside the kitchen.

  “Are you responsible for Jessie’s condition? Surely—”

  “Have you ever known me to lay a hand to any woman, Vicky?” Wounded hurt seeped through Duel’s angry denial.

  Guilt told her to step into view, yet the scene would be awkward, and she couldn’t face the pity she knew would be there. She couldn’t bear that.

  “How do I know what kind of man you’ve turned into in the four years you’ve been gone? Why did you leave without a word?”

  “When I buried Annie, something inside died right along with her. You’re right, I’m not the same man I was. I’ve done things. Even so, I’m no monster.”

  “Then who? Who would do such a horrible thing to that sweet girl?”

  “If I ever find out, there’ll be hell to pay! She’s a fine woman, Vicky. Too good for—” His voice froze when she stepped around the partition.

  Shock rippled through her veins. That this amber-eyed Samaritan held her in high esteem stunned her. He thought her too good? For what? For the tongue-lashing she’d gotten for not moving quickly enough to suit Jeremiah? For the whipping he’d given her? Or too good for the rope they’d tie around her neck?

  No, she wasn’t fine or good. And she’d suffered for that.

  “There you are, dear.” Blushing, Vicky fussed over the teapot.

  Here came the awkwardness she’d tried to avoid. She kept her gaze fastened on Marley Rose, not meeting Duel’s uneasy stare and the pity she was sure to see there.

  “Did you find everything you needed, Jessie? The fancy soap Roy bought me in Austin was right beside the washstand. The wrapper promised the tantalizing scent of dew-kissed rose petals, but I swear it smells more like morning glories to me. You just never get what you pay for. However, I have nothing against morning—”

  “Vicky, for God’s sake, shut up.”

  Jessie covered her mouth to smother a grin. “Yes, thank you, I found everything. The soap smelled wonderful.”

  They settled around the kitchen table, Duel with coffee and she with hot tea. Although Vicky tried to keep her curiosity veiled, Jessie caught her stealing glances.

  “Now, brother, where did you meet up with Marley Rose and Jessie? I can smell a good story a mile away.” Vicky bounced Marley up and down on one knee. The child’s happy squeals were the only noise in the otherwise quiet room.

  Jessie couldn’t miss the tic or the stubborn set of Duel’s square jaw that signaled his irritation. In closemouthed fashion, he was being protective of her and Marley. He was a special kind of man, capable of deep compassion. Then why did he judge himself so harshly, and what had been his relationship with the woman he called Annie? His wife?

  “You know, Vicky, this is exactly why I hesitated in coming back. I wasn’t ready to face all these confounded questions.”

  Tension stretched for a long minute between brother and sister. Both had private family matters to discuss.

  “I think Marley Rose and I need to check on the horses.” Jessie’s chair scraped on the hardwood floor, bringing both combatants to their feet.

  “You’ll do no such thing! You’re my guest.” Vicky put a hand on her arm to stop her.

  Duel’s angry glare softened when he turned to her. “I’ll go. You need to rest. Vicky, see that she does. The last few days have been rough on her and Marley Rose.”

  Before he could move from the spot, the kitchen door burst open.

  “Mama, Mama, a goat’s outside pullin’ your clean clothes off’n the line. It’s eatin’ my shirt.” The excited boy looked no older than six or seven. Another smaller youngster, evidently his brother, followed close behind.

  “Damn that blasted goat!” Three long strides carried Duel to the back door.

  “Boys, that’s your uncle Duel I keep telling you about.” The banging door interrupted Vicky’s hurried introduction.

  The two boys clipped at his heels. “Oh boy! Uncle Duel, wait for us!”

  “I’ve got to see this. Come on.” Vicky grabbed Jessie’s hand, and they joined the parade.

  As they watched Duel wrestle with the stubborn animal, two men, one wearing a leg splint, approached from the barn. Each man toted a little girl on his shoulders.

  “Duel?” The elderly man held up his hand to block the sun. “I’ll be a horned toad!”

  Walt McClain wobbled in his hurry to reach his son, his crooked gait impeding the speed of his progress.

  Duel stopped in midtussle with the goat. When he saw his father, his chin jutted forward.

  Jessie watched his expression for signs of relenting. Whatever had happened had torn him and his family apart. She ached for the man who’d fed her soul as well as her stomach.

  “Pop.” They stood before each other in silence.

  “Son!” With no hesitation, Walt embraced his son. “Welcome home.”

  A broad s
mile lit Duel’s face. Jessie relaxed. Things were not as bad as he’d feared. Healing would come.

  *

  “Marley Rose. No, baby, don’t put that in your mouth.” Jessie grabbed a dead bug from the small one’s grasp and scooped her from the floor.

  The meeting with Duel’s family a few hours earlier had gone much better than she’d anticipated. Of course, there were polite stares, but deep kindness lay beneath their interest. They even refrained from the million questions she knew they were dying to ask. She couldn’t have wished for more. Now, Duel had brought Marley and her to the farm he’d abandoned. She felt his pain from the moment they rode onto the property. It’d taken a minute before he brought himself to step inside the door, and his face had been quiet and still when he walked the rooms he’d shared with Annie.

  From Vicky, she learned that Annie had died in childbirth. “It broke my heart to watch him lay her in that coffin. He folded her lifeless arms around their infant son and nailed on the lid.”

  The grave stood on the rise she saw from the window. She moved closer and wiped away the grime with her fingers. Despite the grief that surrounded the farm like the barbed wire Jeremiah had used to mark his domain, there was beauty here. The winter cold had given way to early spring rains and produced a bumper crop of bluebonnets, Indian paintbrush, and prickly poppy. They carpeted the hills, creating a canvas of rich hues.

  In the midst of all the color, the tall figure of Duel stood alone, facing the haunting demons that almost had destroyed his will to live. Head bowed, he knelt, then sat cross-legged amid the wildflowers that blanketed the grave. Not strong enough yet, she sensed, to slay the demons. Instead, he sized them up in the true fashion of a gunfighter who eyed his enemies before a duel.

  Maybe someday her brave knight would fight that battle—and win. For Marley Rose’s sake, she prayed that day would come soon.

  “He’ll love you like a daughter, little one,” she murmured against Marley’s soft black curls. “I know he will, even though his heart still aches with pain.”

  “Pa pa.” The child’s serious expression suggested understanding despite the impossibility of it as she gently patted the windowpane.

  Jessie kissed her chubby cheek. “Yes, he’s your papa now, my darling. It’s up to you to fill the emptiness in his life.” Because she couldn’t linger, any more than she could hope to offer Duel the comfort he needed.

  Marley threw both arms around Jessie’s neck and clung as if sensing coming sadness. A bullet couldn’t have done a better job of shattering her control. She held the child tight and forced back hot tears. Marley Rose could have been the baby she’d never have—the one she lost. Shimmering wetness blurred the figure who sat alone by his beloved’s grave. Duel McClain could have taught her what it was like to live without constant fear, without hate eating at her soul.

  Jessie forced a deep breath. Yes, it was time for her to go…before it became even more painful. Tomorrow at first light would be soon enough to slip away. For today, she’d savor every second spent in her dear ones’ company.

  *

  Duel lifted his head. He thought he heard singing, the sweet notes only an angel could produce. Then he realized the music came from the frame structure he and Annie had once called home. Curious, he rose and ambled toward it.

  Just outside the door he paused and listened.

  “‘Hush little baby, don’t say a word. Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.’”

  The steady creak of a rocking chair, the one he’d ordered all the way from St. Louis, added a harmonious rhythm to the tune Jessie sang to Marley Rose. That should be Annie in there rocking their son. Anger sparked an urge to reduce the chair to kindling. His hand froze on the doorknob.

  “‘If that mockingbird don’t sing, Papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.’”

  The woman’s voice broke, and overwhelming sadness enveloped the lyrics, telling more than he wanted to know. In the space it took to draw breath, he shoved his own problems back into the dark corners where they belonged. He’d lived with them for four years, but Jessie’s pain was fresh. Lord knows her plate was heaped to overflowing in that department. He cringed, thinking again of the Diamond J burned into her shoulder. Her physical wounds would eventually heal. What of the damage inside? No amount of time would erase that. The muscle in his jaw tensed.

  “‘If that diamond ring turns brass, Mama’s gonna buy you a lookin’ glass.’” The song drifted through the cracks.

  He had no doubts she cared for Marley Rose. Her tone, her tender touch, the growing shine in her eyes all told of how deep the nurturing ran. It went beyond mere fascination or a woman’s duty. No, this was different. The bond between Jessie and the little darling seemed forged from some mighty strong iron.

  Heaven forbid that in the mad dash from her circumstances, could she have left a child behind somewhere? That might explain her deep concern for Marley Rose. He knew one thing for certain: if she had, it could only have been against her will.

  His question addressing whether she had a husband had evoked sudden tears she stubbornly held back despite her quivering chin. She vowed there was no one. He wasn’t entirely convinced.

  A lump settled in the middle of his gut. Whatever happened, she didn’t trust him enough to tell her story. Trust wouldn’t come easy to Jessie.

  Duel meant to honor his word to see her anyplace she wished to go. But how much trouble would he be borrowing if he asked her to stay? Just for a little while? Just until he got the hang of this baby business.

  He had to ask—for both his and Marley Rose’s sake.

  Five

  “‘If that lookin’ glass gets broke, Papa’s gonna buy you a billy goat.’” The nursery rhyme took Jessie back to when she was a child. She’d snuggled in her mother’s lap, listening to the same song. Worries were an unknown commodity back then. Funny, it seemed only yesterday. Mama and Papa loved her. She had never displeased them, only Jeremiah.

  “Will a nanny goat do?”

  She stiffened. Duel’s slow drawl startled her. Lost in her own thoughts, she hadn’t heard him enter.

  “Did I spook you?” His gentle tone calmed her fear, reminding her he was nothing like Jeremiah. Respect and compassion oozed from this tall Texan.

  She shifted Marley Rose from her shoulder, laying the limp form in her lap. “What was it you asked? Something about a goat?”

  Her gaze followed him as he removed his Stetson and hung it on a nail beside the door. The hat seemed a natural part of him, as much as the Smith & Wesson strapped at his hip. Most likely, he’d hung it there a hundred times before. And a woman named Annie would run to greet him with a smile…and a kiss. Jessie swallowed, relegating the vision to a scrap heap.

  “The song. I wanted to know if a nanny goat would do? Already got her one of those.”

  The image of him fighting to pull nephew George’s shirt from the animal’s mouth earlier in the day brought the barest hint of a smile to her lips. The tug-of-war had ended with Duel, his pride along with his rear, in the dirt.

  “It’s a fine gift for Marley.”

  He ran his fingers through his thick, dark-brown hair in exasperation, then growled, “Thing is, I’m not her papa. Never will be.”

  “You’re the only one the poor little thing’s got.”

  Feathery black lashes fanned against Marley Rose’s cheeks. The child’s beautiful face reflected her quiet inner spirit. She was so precious. Jessie’s chest ached. How could anyone wager their own flesh and blood as easily as they would a horse or an unwanted pair of boots?

  Green-tinged bruises peeked from where Jessie’s sleeve had ridden up, reminding her she’d known such a cruel one. Jeremiah had taken perverse pleasure in destroying a person’s will, instilling mortal fear, then putting his mark on all he owned. She quickly pushed the fabric back to cover the distinct fingerprints.

  “That may well be, but I’m only a man who opened his arms, not his heart, to the child. She’ll call me Duel.”
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  The firm closing of the door behind him squashed any rebuttal she might have made. Dark sorrow fell as she watched his proud carriage disappear. She knew he had uttered the words rashly. He couldn’t mean them.

  “Give him time, my darling.” She brushed a gentle kiss across the sleeping child’s forehead.

  *

  Duel shifted his weight from one foot to another. “Jessie, ma’am, I’ve got something to say, and I want you to hear me out.” He hated the instant distrust that leaped into the space between them. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. “Don’t get me wrong, I still intend to keep my bargain.”

  At the word bargain, she grew still.

  “But?” The word shot from stiff lips.

  “Problem is Marley Rose here.” He ruffled the child’s soft curls, her infectious grin reinforcing his plan. The little darlin’ needed a mother, and he couldn’t have found one more suited for the job than if he’d handpicked her himself. If he could only convince the lady of that.

  Therein lay a big problem. Jessie cringed each time he stepped too close. Could he live with that? With the reminder of what another had done? Although he would never lay a hand to her, he felt as if he shouldered the blame simply because he was a man. Each time he shut his eyes, the memory of what he’d seen made his insides crawl.

  He took a deep breath. The welfare of the little one had to come first. “My plan to let my sister raise the child has changed. Vicky has all she can handle and I find I can’t give Marley Rose up. I’m keeping her. I hate like hell to ask this, seeing as you’re in a hurry to leave and all.” Not knowing what to do with his hands, he hooked his thumbs in his gun belt. “What I want to ask is, could you see your way clear to staying on a few more days?”

  Her blue eyes clouded, and he hurried on, the words spilling out like marbles from a broken jar. “Just till…for Marley Rose’s sake.”

  “Stay? Live here with you? On this farm?”

  Heat rushed to his face as he realized how it sounded. Damn! He could stare into a killer’s eyes at twenty paces and not feel this rattled.