“Caitie!”
She used her hands to feel around, searching, praying that her sister was nearby and unharmed. Her fingers scrambled over the uneven ground, scraping against dirt and rocks. All familiarity of her surroundings had fled, leaving her in a dark void.
Scared, vulnerable, she got to her knees. A sudden weight on her back knocked her back to the ground.
“Mattie!” Caitie clung to her, small arms wrapped tightly around her neck, skinny legs gripping her waist.
Relieved that her sister sounded unharmed, Mattie reached behind her and pulled Caitie into the security of her arms; then she sat, her skirts twisted beneath her.
“Caitie!” Her throat seized, turning her cry into a croak. Ignoring everything but her frightened sister, Mattie ran her hands through the child’s tangled red curls. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?” She cursed her blindness as she felt carefully over Caitie’s small body, searching for injury.
The child tucked her face into the hollow of Mattie’s neck. She trembled uncontrollably. Panic returned to Mattie. Where was she? Even with so many people around, she had no idea where the bank was, which way led back to the Jensens’ boardinghouse. Was she in the alley beside the bank, or out in the street in front of it? Why did no one speak up? Why did no one help?
She opened her mouth to ask, then stopped. Shame mingled with anger. She hated the loss of her independence. Reaching out, she hoped to find the edge of the wooden boardwalk from which she’d fallen. Her fingers brushed against crisp fabric.
She hastily pulled her hand back. Close to tears, she sat silent, surrounded by townsfolk. But instead of feeling safe and secure, she felt confined. Trapped. She couldn’t even attempt to stand in case she bumped into someone. Her breathing quickened. She fought the urge to scream.
“Renny,” she gasped. “Someone get my sister. Please.”
She listened, heard some shuffling, the scrape of cloth against cloth. Scents clinging to silent watchers invaded the small bit of space where Mattie and Caitie sat—acrid smoke from the open fire pits where slabs of beef had been roasted, dust from hems of skirts, stale drink, the sourness of clothing worn without being washed.
Mattie’s nose twitched. Someone to her left had stepped in something unpleasant. The air was suddenly thick. She couldn’t breathe.
“Give them room,” a deep voice barked. “Move aside.”
At the sound Mattie’s panic eased, which surprised her, for she didn’t recognize the commanding voice at all. People moved, however, and a breath of fresh air edged in, bringing with it a new mixture of scents—leather, sun and something she had no word for.
“You all right?”
The voice was male. Deep, a bit gruff, a bit angry, yet gentle. Mattie’s heart quickened, and without reason she felt weak. Dizzy.
“I think so,” she whispered. The voice was new, as was his scent. Her rescuer was a stranger. But instead of frightened, especially considering she’d just been shot at, Mattie felt strangely calm, as though she knew this man, as though she already trusted him. He stood close, his eyes on her—his rich, summer-sky blue eyes—and she didn’t need to see to know; she felt it.
“Let’s get you out of here. Away from these damned gawkers.” Strong hands gripped beneath her arms, effortlessly lifted her to her feet.
Then the man paused. “Dammit, people, move! This isn’t a damn circus. We need a doctor!”
Trembling, Mattie continued to clasp Caitie tightly to her. This was the man she’d seen earlier, in her vision—the man who’d held her. Somehow she recognized the feel of him, the scent of him.
She didn’t need to touch him to know that he was tall. His voice and his breath brushed the top of her head. She felt the broadness and the strength of his body near hers. His warmth cloaked her, shielded her, protected her. With each breath she drew, she drew in his scent. And felt more safe.
A flurry of skirts and pounding steps came at her. “Mattie! What happened? You hurt?” Renny’s voice was fraught with worry.
“No…” She broke off at a twinge of pain from the gash on her temple and the slivers of wood buried in her cheek.
“Let me take Caitie.”
Grateful for Renny’s arrival, Mattie handed over Caitie, then brushed her hands down her skirts. Her elbow bumped against the stranger. She froze, embarrassed, yet was unable to move for she had no idea where to step.
Without the sun, she didn’t even know which direction she faced. She was totally turned around. The crowd had moved back, and with the arrival of the stranger, they had begun talking, some in whispers, others in loud voices. Mattie knew she’d be the topic of much gossip come morning.
“Renny? Take me back.” She spoke low. Desperate.
“No. Someone fetch the sheriff.”
The command came from the stranger. He was standing beside her, and Mattie’s growing panic fled as she was reminded of his presence. A feeling of security took over. For just a moment, the horror of being shot at faded. There weren’t many people who made her feel comfortable, and the situation confused even as it comforted her.
Beside her, Renny stiffened. “We don’t need—”
“Right here, Reed. Somebody want to tell me what happened?”
Mattie sniffed, recognizing the scent of Sheriff Tyler’s tobacco. She gave a startled yelp when he took her arm in his. “Let’s get you inside.”
He pulled her away from the crowd. Away from Renny and Caitie. Away from the stranger. And Mattie felt cold and alone.
“Step,” he warned.
Mattie stumbled, barely having time to step up onto the plank walkway. She turned her head. As nice as Tyler was, he was a big man, with a big, rough, stomping stride.
“Renny?” she called. She couldn’t keep the panic from her voice. Too much was happening, too much was out of her control. Her voice shook.
“Hold up, Sheriff,” came the stranger’s call.
Mattie was jolted to a stop. She felt like a rag doll, being swung to and fro. Then she felt him—the warmth of his hand on her arm, the soft breath of air, then the comforting feel of his arms around her as he swept her up into his embrace.
“She doesn’t need you dragging her behind you,” he chided Sheriff Tyler.
Then, once more, they were moving, this time smoothly, with no stumbling in the dark. Mattie should have felt embarrassed, but she didn’t. She should have been afraid of this stranger. But she wasn’t. He could be the one responsible for the harassment, the threats, the poisoning of her family’s cows. But, inside, she knew he wasn’t responsible, because every part of her recognized him as the man from her vision. As the man who would play a big part in what was yet to come.
And that frightened her more than the fact that someone had tried to kill her.
* * *
The woman lay stiff as a board in his arms. “Relax,” Reed ordered gruffly. He shifted her slightly. She sagged against him. Her cheek rested against his pounding heart. Someone had nearly killed this woman.
He tightened his grip, drawing in her sweet scent of spring grass after a gentle rain. Inhaling deeply over and over, as if he couldn’t get enough of her, Reed felt something shift deep inside. His life for the last year was like the harsh, cold winter—bleak, dead, hopeless. But the first time he set eyes on this woman, he’d felt as though a ray of warmth had speared through the coldness of his world. Holding her, he felt the promise of spring. Of hope.
Disgusted with his fanciful thoughts, Reed shoved away that hope. This was just a woman who’d been shot at. Nothing more, nothing less. He just happened to have been close by.
At least that’s what he kept telling himself. He conveniently ignored the fact that he’d seen her leave, had been curious and followed. He’d left the celebration but was still hanging around the buildings, observing each man who
walked past, waiting to see if anyone recognized him.
He’d seen the woman and young child walking toward town, passing him where he stood in the shadows. His world had spun crazily when he’d heard the shot ring out and saw her fall.
All color had faded, and he’d felt gut-punched. He had run as fast as he could, dodging wagons and horses, feeling as though he were moving far too slowly—like swimming though a thick mire—to get to the woman.
So what? So when he’d heard the shot, watched her fall, he’d done what any man would do—go to her assistance.
Then why did you not leave when the sheriff arrived? he asked himself. Why are you carrying her now, involving yourself?
Reed tried to ignore the insidious voice, taunting him in his mind.
He did not like this turn of events. He’d had a plan. Helping a woman who turned his insides to mush was not part of it.
For the last year his life had revolved around one thing: clearing his name. How many women had he noticed in that time, in distress or not? None. He’d neither felt attraction nor paid much mind to what went on around him. The truth was, a week ago he’d have let someone else deal with this woman and her situation.
In the graying dusk, Reed’s gaze traveled over the woman’s features. Her eyes were open, wide and staring. Her arms were crossed protectively against her breasts, her fists tucked beneath her chin.
Stoic. Yet vulnerable. The fact that she was trying to be brave made her so damn fragile. She was like a scared child putting on a brave front. The need to protect, care and love exploded out of him. He cursed.
Her gaze latched on to his. Once again Reed felt himself drawn to her—into her. He couldn’t look away. Instinct warned him to stop, to hand her over to the sheriff and hightail it away from here as fast as he could. And in that moment Reed knew she could up and ruin everything.
“In here.” Sheriff Tyler’s hard, furious voice was like a lifeline to Reed. He entered the lawman’s office, ready to hand over his burden. But it was not to be so simple.
“Stay with them, Reed. I’ll be back,” Sheriff Tyler said, edging out the door. He moved past the red-haired woman carrying the sobbing child. But before Reed could protest or even set down the woman in his arms, the door burst open. In strode a dark-haired man.
“Mattie! Are you all right?” The young man strode toward Reed.
Reed knew at once that the two were related. Both had unmistakable coloring and features proclaiming Indian blood, and they had other shared facial similarities, down to gentle dents in their chins.
“I’m fine, Matthew.” The woman in Reed’s arms shifted.
Reed carefully lowered her to her feet. He was torn between the need to set her down as far from him as possible, and the desire to sweep her back into his arms and never let her go.
He should leave. He didn’t. He kept a supporting arm beneath the young woman’s elbow—and not because Tyler had ordered him to stay. Foolishly, even had the sheriff told him to leave, Reed would have refused.
He’d seen the splintered wood where the bullet struck, had noted that it was mere inches from the top of this woman’s head. She’d been incredibly lucky. He’d been struck with fear and panic when he’d heard the shot and seen her fall. He’d thought for sure she’d been hit.
Killed.
Turning to the woman’s brother, he narrowed his eyes. “Someone tried to kill your sister,” he said, sucking in his breath against the despair the thought engendered.
“Who are you? How do you know we’re related?” The man moved closer, looking every bit as dark and dangerous as Reed knew himself to be. The two men stared unflinchingly at one another.
“For heaven’s sake, Matt!” The young red-haired woman stepped forward. “You and Mattie look like twins! Only a blind man wouldn’t see that you were related.” She wrinkled her nose. “Sorry, Mattie.”
Beside him, Reed felt the woman called Mattie draw in a deep breath. “It’s okay, Renny,” she said. She turned to her brother. “I’m fine, Matthew.” Her eyes roamed the room but obviously took in nothing. She bit her lower lip and hugged herself tightly. “Where are the others?”
“Don’t worry, Mattie. They’re here.” Renny was staring at the doorway where two red-haired boys were watching.
Reed frowned as he felt Mattie’s sigh of relief. She was facing the door, staring at the boys even as she asked for their whereabouts. One of the two slouching in the doorway was the same he’d spoken to earlier. The boy clutched his ball to his narrow chest like a shield. He tipped his chin up and moved forward.
“I seen you before,” he said to Reed, his voice full of suspicion.
“Yeah. You nearly took my head off with that ball.” Reed stared at each of the people crammed into the small, closet-sized office. Who were they? What were they to the frightened woman standing so close to him he could feel her warmth through the sleeve of his shirt?
“Perhaps you all should wait outside until Sheriff Tyler returns.” He didn’t want his charge feeling crowded.
The young boy with the ball ran forward. “You can’t make me leave my sister!” He glared up at Reed then kicked him in the shins.
“Yeow!” Reed choked.
“Kealan,” the redhead beside him scolded. “You apologize for kicking Mister—”
“Reed. Just Reed,” he growled, glaring down at the youngster, who had put muscle behind that kick.
“Reed, then. You mind your manners,” she finished.
Surprised, Reed glanced at her. The woman’s hands were now resting on her hips. She had color in her cheeks as she glared down at the child.
Beside Reed, Mattie sighed. “I apologize for my brother’s lack of manners, Mister…Reed.” She turned away from him. “I’m fine, everyone. I’m fine.”
“Someone said you’d been shot at!” The older of the red-haired boys pushed into the cramped office. His hair was darker.
Reed found himself pinned by the child’s gaze. Deliberately, the boy stared at the twin holsters dangling from his hips.
“I don’t shoot women or children,” he snapped. Damn, where was Tyler?
The redheaded woman stepped forward. “Don’t mind them. We appreciate your help and concern. I’m Renny O’Brien, and this is Caitlin.” She jerked her chin toward the girl in her arms. Then she motioned to the boys. “Those two are Daire and Kealan. And next to Mattie is Matthew. We’re all brothers and sisters.”
Reed inclined his head toward each of the O’Briens. “Any reason someone would take a shot at your sister here?” he asked after a moment.
Silence fell. Reed glanced around the room. The two young boys exchanged frightened looks, Renny suddenly refused to look at him, and Matthew firmed his lips and stared blankly at the wall.
Even Mattie refused to look in Reed’s direction. Only the little girl met his gaze. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. “Someone killed Lilly,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. She buried her face against her sister’s shoulder.
“Who is Lilly?” Reed asked. What was going on here? Why was he concerned? And, dammit, what was keeping the sheriff?
“Our cow,” answered the boy with the ball.
His older brother—Daire, Reed remembered—smacked him hard in the arm. “Shut it,” he warned.
Kealan yelped, then clamped his mouth shut and lowered his eyes.
Frustrated, Reed was about to address the woman standing beside him, but the door flew open again. A large man charged into the room. “Everyone all right?” he asked. His voice boomed through the room.
Reed looked him over, then locked eyes with the man. He had dark hair, almost brown, but there were glints of red in it.
“Your father?” he asked. Outside the door, he saw others waiting, but this office was crammed full.
“Papa O’Lear
y, we are all fine,” the blind woman said. Her voice sounded weary.
Reed frowned as yet another person squeezed into the room. He recognized the young man as the one he’d seen walking with Mattie earlier—the groom-to-be.
The young man made no move to stand next to Mattie, though. He remained near the door—which was fine with Reed. He wasn’t ready to hand Mattie over to anyone.
“Jesus Christ! Out, all of you!” Sheriff Tyler appeared just outside the doorway, other townsfolk pressing in behind him. He had his hands on either side of the door, effectively blocking it had anyone decided to listen to him.
But unsurprisingly, no one budged. “Don’t think anyone’s going to leave, Tyler,” Reed called out. He was feeling rather closed in himself.
“We’re family. We aren’t leaving,” Renny snapped, glaring at the sheriff.
A soft, quavering voice came from the doorway, and a white-haired woman peered from beneath the sheriff’s arm. It was one of the Jensens, who ran the boardinghouse where Reed was staying. “Sister and I heard about the trouble. Might we invite you to use our parlor, Sheriff? Much more room.”
Tyler ran a hand through his hair. “Good idea, Miss Martha.”
She nodded and turned away. Reed heard her rather shrill voice add, “Sister, come along. We must fix the poor dear a cup of tea.” Reed watched the sisters hurry past the window.
“Okay, let’s go,” Sheriff Tyler barked. “Out.” He waited until everyone had filed from the room.
Reed ignored the cold, hollow feeling that came over him as Mattie moved out, her brother holding her arm. He realized he had no part in whatever discussions were to come, and he decided not to follow to the boardinghouse. This, whatever the problem was, had nothing to do with him. He had his own mission. His own goal. His own life to straighten out. He had no time to get involved in the troubles of others.
White Deception Page 6