* * *
Mattie felt disconnected from the arguing and angry shouts that exploded around her the moment the stranger suggested they leave the area. Her siblings had closed ranks all around—Renny behind, her young brothers on either side and Caitie in her lap, clinging tightly.
Strong hands clenched her shoulders. They were Matthew’s, who’d moved in his silent way to stand behind her. There was no way any of her family would leave. She sighed. Her siblings were each quick to anger and to speak—all but Matthew who, like her, tended to remain silent and watchful, preferring to wait until their hot-blooded siblings wound down.
The loudest shouts in the small parlor came from Renny and Tyler. Mattie leaned her head back and sighed. Sheriff Tyler meant well but he just didn’t understand. The house and land represented their father’s dream, his desire for a new life for them all, a place where social standing and breeding mattered less than the honor inside a man.
Living in St. Louis, he’d hated the way his friends and neighbors treated his wife and his adopted children. That was why he’d moved them out West—closer to their own world. He’d embraced the idea of starting over, taking pride in building a home for his family and working the land to provide for them.
A soft voice broke through the loud protests. “Is a bit of pride worth more than your lives?”
All evening the voice of the stranger had drawn her, touching something deep inside. And she’d felt his eyes on her often, just as she did now. She couldn’t see their color, hadn’t had time to ask Renny to describe him, but she knew with certainty from her earlier visions that they were a brilliant blue—brighter than a clear, cold winter sky.
“You don’t understand,” she said, turning her head toward him. In the midst of chaos she felt him draw near. She inhaled. He was close. His voice when he spoke again came from in front of her. The creak of leather sounded as he knelt down, his knee brushing hers.
“Maybe not,” Reed said gently. “But is it worth dying over?”
Mattie tightened her hold on Caitie. The lives of her siblings were more important, far more important, than pride. Yet the land was their life. It gave them food, shelter and, up until now, a semblance of security and safety.
“We have nowhere else to go,” she murmured. Beside her, Kealan shifted. Mattie held up her hand, warning him not to interrupt. “Reed…” His name rolled off her tongue easily. “We can’t be sure someone really shot at me. It could have been an accident.”
“Do you really believe that?”
Mattie sighed. “After everything else that’s been going on, no.”
“It was no accidental shot,” Reed said. “Though I don’t think your enemy meant to kill you. Just to scare you. You, and the rest of your family.”
“I agree,” Renny said, leaning down over the couch. “After this morning, we can’t allow ourselves to believe anything else.” The room fell silent as the others stopped their arguing to listen.
“Then see reason, Renny,” Sheriff Tyler snapped in frustration. “What happens when Matt leaves? A bunch of youngsters and a blind woman don’t stand a chance.” He paused. “Sorry, Mattie, but it has to be said. You can’t work the farm or protect them.”
“Blind?”
Mattie shifted her blank stare to the stranger kneeling at her feet. “You did not know?” She assumed everyone knew of her blindness.
“No,” he whispered. “You don’t…act blind…helpless.”
“That’s ’cause she ain’t,” Kealan shouted.
“Kea, enough. Mind your manners,” Mattie scolded gently. “I don’t need your pity, or anyone else’s,” she said to Reed. It wasn’t hard to imagine the pity in his eyes. She heard it, felt it all around her whenever she went to town.
She tried to pretend that she was no different than anyone else, yet each time someone rushed to open a door, to move a piece of furniture out of her path or to speak loudly as though her hearing was also damaged, she was reminded that to most, she truly seemed weak and helpless.
And on those occasions when she tripped and fell, and in the horror-filled and awkward silence that followed, Mattie longed to give in to the need to yell, scream and rant against her dependence upon others. Imagining the stranger’s reaction to be typical, she felt like crying right then and there.
But now wasn’t the time to fall into a round of self-pity or recriminations for something she could not go back and undo. Before another round of angry shouts could begin, Mattie lifted her hand.
“Sheriff, you mean well, and we appreciate your concern.” She ignored the rude sounds Renny made behind her. Then, Renny leaned down the back of the settee, her breath stirring the air near Mattie’s ear. She wanted to talk privately.
Mattie reached up, found her sister’s face and tipped her head back to whisper to her. “I think Tyler and Reed have a point, though. The danger to Caitie, Kealan and Daire is great. Our enemy proved to us this morning how easy it would be to poison not just the livestock but the children.”
Renny pulled away. “We aren’t sending them to strangers.”
“Mattie, we aren’t strangers,” Paddy O’Leary said, a wealth of hurt in his voice.
“Paddy, until we know who the enemy is or what he wants, no one will be any safer there. Besides, what about Brenna, Gil and your wife?” Mattie shook her head.
“What do you have in mind, Mattie?” This came from Renny.
Mattie smiled. Her sister and friend knew her so well. “We send the children to our family—we take them to Wolf and Jessie for the summer.”
Kealan and Daire were protesting, waking Caitie who added in her protests—though she didn’t know what she was protesting. Behind her, Renny and Matthew sounded off in agreement.
Mattie glanced down. The strength of Reed’s scent, and the hint of warmth where his knee nearly touched hers, told her he hadn’t moved. “My brother and I are Sioux,” she explained. “Each year Matthew returns to our mother’s people.”
She almost said the words defiantly, as if trying to use her Indian blood to keep this strange man of her visions at a distance. Something about this man made her nervous. She didn’t like the way his voice soothed and calmed, or the warmth she felt when he looked at her. She didn’t need eyesight to know he watched her. Even his physical closeness drew her, tempting her to lean into him—to fall and let him catch her.
Daire jumped up from the settee. “I’m not leaving. I’m grown. I can handle a rifle just as good as Matt and Renny!”
Kealan, never one to be less than Daire, followed suit by stating that if Daire stayed, then he too would stay.
Tired, needing some quiet to step back and look at all that had happened, including the return of her nightmares and visions, Mattie suddenly felt too exhausted to argue.
Tyler’s voice broke through the argument. “Better if you all went away for a while, Mattie.” He paused, then continued in a frustrated tone. “Though I know that won’t happen.”
“No, it won’t. But at least the children will be safe. Matthew and Renny will take them. Tomorrow.” She wanted them all away, safely.
A voice from the doorway asked, “What about you, Mattie?”
“Brenna, what are you doing back down here?”
Brenna stepped back into the room. “Mama’s asleep. I snuck back down. I think you should go too. Stay with your family. Someone tried to shoot you, not anyone else. If you stay away for the summer, whoever it is will surely give up.”
Mattie shook her head. She’d never be able to stand being away. She needed the familiarity of the cabin, her independence. “No, I won’t lead my enemies to our tribe.” It was an excuse, lame though it was.
The events of the evening were catching up with her. Now that the shock of the attack was over, she needed action. She felt hemmed in, but in a strange room, she coul
dn’t stand and pace to work off the restless energy coursing through her. All she wanted was to escape to the chamber they’d rented and to try to make sense of what was happening.
Renny moved around the settee and settled on its arm. “Us taking the younguns to Wolf and Jessie is a good idea. But you can’t stay here alone.” She reached out to touch her sister on the arm. “You’ll have to come with me and Matthew. Then the three of us can return here to deal with the problems.”
Knowing Renny was right didn’t make the truth easier to swallow. Even if there wasn’t the threat of their enemy, she couldn’t stay in their cabin alone. But she also knew her sister well enough not to be fooled. She wouldn’t put it past Renny and Matthew to leave her at Wolf’s with the youngsters. After all, what could she do about it if they just left?
Tyler cleared his voice. “Reed is passing through. Perhaps he’ll agree to stay at your place and watch over things while you’re gone.”
Mattie lifted her brow. Tyler’s suggestion sounded reasonable on the surface, but she picked up on an underlying tension in his request. To her ears, it sounded more like he was giving Reed an order.
“This isn’t his problem, Sheriff Tyler. It’s ours. We can’t ask a stranger to put himself at risk.” She turned her head, seeking the stranger’s presence. She’d felt him move away.
“You’ll stay with us, Mattie,” Patrick said, sounding determined. “Then Gil and I can see to your place.”
Mattie kept her distaste at the suggestion from her features. Mrs. O’Leary would throw a fit, but she didn’t see another choice. No matter how much she hated the idea of being under the same roof with her cold, biased mother-in-law, she’d do it in order to get her siblings out of harm’s way.
Tyler offered her a second choice. “I can vouch for Reed, Mattie. He’s a good shot. He’s a bounty hunter. He can take care of himself and your property.”
“A bounty hunter? Cool!” Daire exclaimed. “We could all stay.”
Reed spoke up. “It’d be no problem, Mrs. O’Leary,” he said. “As the sheriff said, I’m just passing through. If I can be of service, then it’s my desire to help.”
Frowning, Mattie wished with all her heart she could see him, but instinctively she knew that had she been able to see his face, his features would not give away what she’d picked up in his voice—an edge of steel that matched Sheriff Tyler’s. Something was going on, something none of them knew about save the two men.
Why would Tyler ask a stranger to stay at their place? She trusted the sheriff with their lives—despite Renny’s harbored resentment, she knew he’d only been looking after all their best interests a year ago when their parents were murdered—but why would he place so much trust and faith in a stranger riding through town? She made up her mind to learn what was going on.
In the meantime, she said, “If Reed agrees, then I will stay.”
Protests rang out around the room. Mattie stood, letting Caitie slide down until the girl was standing in front of her. Her fingers slid through the young girl’s soft curls.
“Reed, it is my desire to hire you to protect both myself and my land. Will you accept?”
A blaze of blue smacked into her mind—brilliant-colored eyes that seemed to pulse with life as Reed’s soft voice drowned out all protests.
“I accept.”
“It’s settled.” She ignored the complaints, the comments that it wasn’t proper from Gil and his father, the worry from her siblings, and even Brenna’s concern about staying alone with a strange man.
“There is much to be done before Renny and Matthew leave in the morning. We need to return home tonight and pack.” She started to move forward, toward the doorway, but the bursts of color behind her eyes darkened, beat against her mind with fury like a storm about to unleash itself.
The sensation of anger was strong. Mattie swayed slightly. After a year of no visions, the return of her gift hit with enough force to make her feel ill to her stomach.
Strong hands beneath her elbow steadied her. “It’s been a long day. Let’s get you and the others home.” Reed’s voice pulled her back from the black void of her vision. As he led her out of the room, she felt safe and protected once more.
And something else. But what that something was, she had no idea.
* * *
Standing outside in total darkness, Mac clenched his fists. All his careful plans were about to be destroyed. It had taken him nearly three years to plan that robbery and to get his new identity in place. He’d paid attention to details, found the perfect place to move, and now, the presence of this ’breed threatened everything.
Anger slid deeper into his heart. Harold E. Robertson, the ’breed’s adoptive father, had killed his little girl, but the man had paid.
A life for a life.
A daughter for a daughter.
The money he’d taken couldn’t bring Laura back. Nothing could. But it was his payment for the void in his life. That, and the knowledge that Robertson would go through life filled with misery and grief as he’d done. Mac’s nostrils flared.
Shutting out the pain, he concentrated on what to do next. It should have been so easy: bury the money, lose the posse and return for the cash later, when it was safe to do so. But it had taken him longer to return to this area than he’d expected.
Mac kicked a rock in frustration. He’d chosen his site carefully—or at least as carefully as he could with a posse riding his tail. He’d memorized the landmarks and measured the distance from the river, but in the time he’d been gone, a prairie fire had scoured part of the earth, burning the trees and shrubs that had marked the place he’d buried the money.
Then, a few weeks ago, the river had flooded during a storm, taking away a good deal of the bank and changing the course of the river. For all he knew, the money was beneath.
No! It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. He just needed time to search the area, which meant the kids had to go. He feared another storm could easily take away more of the bank and make retrieving the money impossible.
And that wasn’t the worst of it. The ’breed was now here to add to his trouble. He grinned. There was some good news. He’d come face-to-face with the ’breed and hadn’t been recognized. He sneered. Of course, the ’breed hadn’t known him, hadn’t known what his adoptive father had done to him, so why would he recognize Mac—a man he’d never met except for that day at the bank?
Although, he admitted to being a bit worried. If the ’breed was here it was because he’d traced the name of Malcolm Clemmings to the area. Which meant Mac hadn’t been as careful as he’d thought.
Mac gave the man credit for persistence. He even admired it. After all, he himself had waited years for his own retribution against Robertson.
A twinge of guilt ate at him. He’d felt true regret for the ’breed’s pain at losing his wife. But no one had cared that Mac had lost his daughter.
Fury lengthened his strides as Mac stormed down the middle of the road.
Damn. Things were going to hell in a handbasket. It should have been so easy, but his previous attempts to gain the land had all failed. Who’d have figured that a bunch of half-breeds would cling to their farm like parasites!
What to do? He couldn’t risk searching during the day, and nights were impossible. He’d tried. But the glow from his lantern was far too great a risk, especially when Matthew was home; he often went riding at night. The boy had nearly caught Mac on his land once.
Mac sighed. He’d already killed Grady O’Brien and his wife, the parents of these kids. He didn’t want to kill any more of them if they caught him digging on their land. But he had to do something. If the river again rose or changed course he might lose all chance of retrieving the stolen money. Or he might be found out by one of the kids.
He sure hadn’t figured on nature taking such a turn agains
t him. Whirling around, his mind went into action. He wasn’t beat yet. If he couldn’t drive them off the land, he’d force them into giving it to him. Fair or foul, it didn’t matter. He would have his money and complete his revenge.
Chapter Six
Darkness ruled the night. It surrounded Mattie, existed within her. Eyes open or shut, it didn’t matter; she was now as at home in the dark as she’d once thrived in the light. There was no light or color for her. Not even in her visions, for she hadn’t had a single vision since becoming blind.
Until today. Or rather yesterday. She didn’t need to see out the window in her bedroom to know dawn approached. It had been quite late when they’d all tumbled into their beds for a few much-needed hours of sleep.
Mattie rubbed her eyes. She needed sleep but each time she tried, the vision that seemed to be hovering somewhere at the edges of her mind crept closer, seeking audience. She refused.
“No. I can’t do this. Not ever again,” she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Once, she’d been proud of her gift. It had been second nature for her to see things. To know things. She’d never understood her mother’s resentment and reluctance to embrace the same. Now she did. The pain of seeing death, then of being unable to do a thing about it, still consumed her with anger and fear whenever she let it. So she didn’t think about it. Yet she hadn’t had to think of her failures much, for the visions had faded into the darkness of her world like a severed arm.
Until tonight.
Now that part of her had returned to haunt and mock her.
At first, she’d been shocked. Then pleased. The blue of the stranger’s—no, Reed’s—eyes had soothed her, and his arms offered solace. She’d welcomed those bursts of warmth and color into her mind’s eye.
But she was paying the price for those brief moments of pleasure, paid with the visions that were now creeping around her conscious mind. They weren’t the stuff of daydreams; they were dark, filled with turbulent emotions, hate and anger.
Dropping her head onto her knees, Mattie wondered if she was going crazy. But she knew the truth. Her eyes remained blind but she could see what was happening. No! Squeezing her eyes tightly, she refused to believe.
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