Once they reached the Missouri, it was just a matter of crossing the river to reach her aunt and uncle. She glanced at the western horizon. It was clear as far as the eye could see, which was good. The last thing they needed was a swollen river to cross.
She returned her attention to Kea, who was still staring out across the James, and sighed.
“But Renny, Matthew says we should always know where we are and how to read the land. I’m just reading the land.”
“Matthew is right. But now we are in a hurry, remember? This time you don’t need to pay attention. Now, we’re going to take a short rest in that grove up ahead. Then we have to ride pretty hard, and you have to keep up.”
“Fine.” Sulking, Kealan picked up a rock, examined it, then stuck it into his pocket.
Renny shook her head. “No more rocks. You’ve collected enough.”
Kealan turned away from the bank, his toe kicking another stone. “Hey, look at this. It’s got colors in it!” He bent down to pick up the small rock. “I gotta wash it. Then I’ll come catch up.” He grinned. “Promise. Please? I can take my rest here.”
Renny turned away, shaking her head. It wasn’t far to the trees. He couldn’t get lost between here and there. But she knew she’d probably have to ride back to hurry him along.
“When I whistle for you, you get moving. Don’t keep us waiting.”
“Oh, boy,” Kealan said. “I won’t.” He turned away, his attention already focused on the rocks near the bank.”
“And don’t fall in,” Renny added. She smiled at his absent agreement and rode to catch up with the rest of her family.
She found Matthew near the stream beneath the grove of cottonwoods. Long, flowing flowers drifted down.
“Renny!” Caitie ran up to her and gave her a bruised petal. “For you,” she said, grinning.
“Thanks, sweetheart.” Renny watched with love in her eyes as her sister pulled up her skirt to collect the fallen petals. Kealan and his rocks, Caitie and her flowers. She glanced at Daire, who was unsaddling the horses to give them a rest. Caitie chatted nonstop and shrieked with joy when the breeze loosened more flowers and caused them to rain down over her head.
Renny joined Matthew, who was staring across the river.
“Mattie’s okay, Matt.” Though Renny wasn’t sure she trusted Reed, she did trust Tyler to keep an eye on their sister.
Thinking of Tyler tended to darken her mood, but this time she was grateful for his overprotectiveness. He wouldn’t let anything happen to Mattie.
Matthew turned troubled eyes to her. “I don’t like this.”
Renny frowned. “I don’t either, but it’s the only way to protect Kealan and Caitie.”
“No. The quiet. It’ s too quiet here.” He was staring around.
Renny laughed. “Well, Caitie is a bit noisy.” The young girl was singing and whirling and dancing among the trees. “Maybe she’ll tire and fall asleep when we get going again. We’ll be able to move a bit faster.”
Matthew didn’t return her grin. Renny turned and looked—really looked. The grove was shaded with beams of sunlight spearing between thick branches of leaves and flowers. Other than the four of them, there was nothing else. No birds. No squirrels. Nothing.
Watching Caitie dance out of sight, Renny started forward, but Daire, also watching his sister, went after her. “I’m going to get Kealan,” she said. She grabbed the reins of her horse and mounted.
Matthew nodded. “I’ll get Daire and Caitie. I think we need to get going.”
Renny rode fast toward the edge of the stand of trees, but before she made it, the blast of a gunshot rang out. She jerked on the reins, felt her horse shudder, heard a shrill shriek of pain. Then she was falling with her horse.
She kicked her feet free of the stirrups as she fell, tumbling into the brush. Dazed, she got to her hands and knees, desperate to find the others and make sure they were all right. Then something struck the back of her head and everything went dark.
Chapter Twelve
Reed rode along the James River with Mattie beside him. “How far do you suppose they are?” he asked. He glanced over to be sure she was keeping up. Looking at her he’d never have known she was blind. She rode as though she could see and guide her mount.
“They have a day on us. Renny and Matt will keep moving, but Caitie is young. She’ll slow them. I expect they will leave the James before the sun is high.” Worry lined her features. “We won’t make it that far. Not today.”
“You sure they won’t take a different route?” Reed’s gaze followed the snaking river as far as his eyes could see. He didn’t see any other rivers branching off. So far, there were just small streams.
“They won’t. Renny promised Sheriff Tyler she’d stick to the route in case…”
Reed glanced sharply at Mattie, knowing she’d been about to say in case anything happened to her while they were gone. Tyler had insisted they stick to one route in case.
Silence fell between them for a while. The sun continued to rise and heat the air. Life abounded around them. Not once during the last year had he taken the time to notice the world. He’d learned to do whatever it took to survive, and to do what needed doing. Nothing else had mattered. Until now.
Until Mattie. What would each day be like if he could spend it with her, like this, just riding peacefully across land that belonged to them? Tightening his grip on his reins, he realized it was a dream that had begun to take hold—something deep inside he longed to make real.
But he couldn’t. It would remain a dream. He had no place here. There were too many reminders of his past. Too much blood had been spilled, much by his own hand. Even if he should find Malcolm, he still had much of the stolen money to repay. He had nothing to offer any woman. Or even his own children.
“What do you see, Reed?”
Startled, Reed glanced at Mattie. Where his thoughts were turbulent, hers seemed peaceful. “Not another lesson, Mattie.” He was not in the mood for any more symbolism. Like the fact that she was the light to his dark, the color that chased away the bleakness. Mattie was everything Reed wanted. And everything he needed.
Mattie sent him a sad smile. “No. I just want to know what the day looks like.” She lifted her face to the sun. “I feel the warmth, the absence of the wind. I hear the flow of the river and the call of the birds. I can smell the scent of spring. But I cannot see it.”
Reed’s gut twisted. He remembered the incredible feeling of sharing sight with her when they’d kissed. They’d used other senses to “see” one another, like touch and taste.
Even the sound of her breathing had triggered in him the need to hold her and never let her go. He wanted so much from her. If a kiss could affect him so deeply, what would making love do to him?
He feared he knew the answer. It lay deep in his heart, waiting for him to acknowledge it and bring it out into the light. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to remember that day at the bank, the fear of those around him when the Granger gang burst through the doors.
He remembered his own shock upon seeing Leo Granger, realizing that he’d been used—and had been stupid enough not to know it until too late. It had cost so many so much.
So he’d searched out each of the Granger brothers by learning all he could about them, going from town to town, talking to folk. And one by one he’d found them, and when it came time, he hadn’t hesitated to kill.
“I can’t do it,” he whispered, fighting a power he feared he was helpless to fight in the end. What if he let her down, or through him, something happened to her? Fear kept him from giving in to what he longed to have. Knowing a family had once been his deepest desire. He no longer deserved one.
“Can’t or won’t?” Mattie asked.
“Both.” Staring at the vast beauty around him, he could
n’t speak. Knowing the reason for being there made it impossible for him to describe it. His vision was clouded with pain and death. How could he see beauty or share it when there was none inside him?
Now, had she asked about life on the streets, he could have given her more detail than she’d ever want. But no one wanted to know about the children who lived in the streets. To acknowledge them meant either having to try and do something or to ignore them.
Most chose to ignore.
Yet one man hadn’t, Reed thought. His adoptive father had taken him from the streets, given Reed a chance no one else would have.
“What are you thinking?” Mattie reached out for him.
“Nothing pleasant.” In order to keep her from asking about things he wasn’t ready to share, he deliberately edged his horse away, out of her reach. He hated seeing the light fade from her face, but he couldn’t do what she wanted, or be what she wanted.
“We’ll stop here. The horses need to rest.”
They didn’t. Not yet. Dismounting, he reached up and swung Mattie down, then led the horses to the edge of the bank. Mattie followed, her hand resting lightly on her mare.
After watering the horses, he hitched them loosely to a tree branch. Glancing over at Mattie, he sighed. He just didn’t have it in him to hurt her. He’d rather slice his own wrists or stop his own heart than see the hurt in her eyes. She might not be able to see from them, but he saw more than he cared to when he stared into her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Mattie.” He had no right to hurt her. It wasn’t her fault he was a sorry sonofabitch. He’d taken the image others had of him and made it real. He’d grown up with folk thinking of him as an ill-bred savage, so he’d learned to be cold, hard and unfeeling.
Only those he loved knew that his facade hid a heart easily broken. Only Anne had remained at his side no matter what, loving him, all of him.
He stood behind Mattie, watching her drink and splash water on her face. He remained, ready to help her up and lead her to a spot of shade beneath one of the tall cottonwoods. The silence between them grew. Reed knew she was disappointed.
“It’s red,” she whispered.
“What’s red?”
Mattie held out her hands. Water dripped from her fingertips. “There’s blood.”
Bending down, he picked up a hand, sure that she’d sliced herself on a rock. He saw nothing, just her smooth, slender fingers. He clasped her hand in his. “There’s no blood, Mattie. You’re okay.”
“You don’t see it.” It was a statement, not a question.
Reed heard the hollowness of her voice, noted the stiffness of her posture. “Mattie?” He turned her toward him, then sucked in his breath.
She was ghostly white, her eyes nearly black. Her lower lip bled where she’d bit herself. “It’s happened. We’re too late.” Then her eyes rolled back in her head.
* * *
A mix of visions held Mattie tight. The river of red split. As though flying above it, she followed, searched for her family. She couldn’t find them. Too much was red. It blinded her. Then she felt heat searing her flesh. The river rose up, surrounded her, became a burning inferno, trapping her. The shadow of death pressed in on her, suffocating her. She couldn’t breathe.
“Mattie, for God’s sake, come back to me!”
Sputtering and choking, Mattie flailed. Water ran into her mouth, her nose. It weighed her down. She was drowning.
“You’re okay, I’ve got you. It’s just water from the flask. You didn’t snap out of it. I didn’t know what else to do.” Reed’s voice shook.
Mattie’s heart raced. She clung to Reed. The air hit her, chilling.
“We have to go. They need us.” Please don’t let us be too late. In her heart she feared they would be. The place where the river split was still a day’s ride. Reed picked her up and put her on his horse.
“Raven—”
“She’ll follow,” Reed assured her. Mattie felt his arms go around her. “Don’t worry. Remember, until last night I had only dreamed of those who’ve already died at my hands. You and your siblings were there.” He felt her shudder. “Yes, dead or dying. But it hasn’t happened yet. I know it hasn’t. You have to believe. For me. We’re not too late.”
His lips nuzzled her hair, and he went on, “I need that hope kept alive, Mattie. I don’t think I’ll survive if anyone else dies.”
“Then let us go. And cling to our hope.”
Mattie leaned against him, let his wide shoulders, hard chest and strong arms cradle her close. His scent washed over her and calmed her. She had to believe that there was hope, and it was Reed who gave it to her.
As they rode, Reed told her of the landmarks they passed. Though she saw none of them, she saw the one thing that mattered: their future. The link between her dreams and his, the presence of the owl as a talisman not just to her, but to him as well, and the ease in which he used his eyes to see for them both—even if he didn’t know or understand anything yet.
* * *
Kealan was just adding another rock to a leather bag filled with rocks when he heard the shot. A terrified scream followed. Wide-eyed, he fell to his belly. What was that? He lifted his head and peered between the bright green leaves of the shrubs growing along the river. He’d slowly been making his way toward the stand of trees where he’d promised to meet his sister.
He glanced over his shoulder. His horse had been munching on the new grass growing along the bank. She now stared white-and wild-eyed toward the trees, nostrils flaring. She looked ready to bolt.
He remembered one time when one of their horses had broken a leg and Matthew shot it. This had been the same scream. All the horses had been spooked, for days. Matt had said they sensed the death of one of their own.
Jumping up, Kealan ran to his horse. He grabbed the reins and spoke softly to the mare, using a mix of English and Lakota. He didn’t know as much Lakota as the others, but he knew some.
A second shot rang out. This time, he had to fight his horse. When the animal reared, he clung to the reins and felt his feet dangling in midair. He was afraid, but he refused to let go. Instead, he wrapped his feet around her neck. When her front hooves thudded back onto the ground, he jumped down but didn’t release the frightened animal.
Instead, he drew her closer to the water’s edge. A burr oak with spreading boughs and thick leaves provided deep shade and concealment. Quickly, he wrapped the ends of the reins around the lower branch. Then he shinnied up the tree. He nearly fell when a third and fourth shot sounded.
Kealan shook. Maybe Daire was just practicing his shooting. Yeah, that had to be what it was. He told himself to hurry and he might get to do some too. But he didn’t budge.
Instead, he waited anxiously, listening for Renny’s whistle. She’d said when it was time to go she’d call him. And that meant whistling loudly. Both his brother and sister had loud whistles.
When he was home if he heard two short whistles, that meant it was time to come home. One long whistle meant it was time to come home, now. Hurry!
“Whistle, Renny,” he said, breathing hard, his heart pounding against his chest. She knew how much he liked to shoot. He was even pretty good, she’d said; so if Daire was getting to shoot, she’d whistle and call him, letting him know he was missing out. He waited.
The whistle didn’t come. But he did hear something. He frowned. It sounded like crying. Deciding to go see what was going on, he started to climb down. Riders burst from the trees.
Relieved, he dropped to the ground and ran around the concealing bushes. Maybe Renny had whistled but he hadn’t heard. She’d be plenty mad at having to come fetch him. But that was alright.
He skidded to a stop and dropped once more when he realized those horses didn’t belong to his family. Matt and Daire’s horses were brown and white, like his. Renn
y’s was yellow. The two horses riding across the open land were brown. Red-brown.
And the riders were strangers wearing all black, with black hats. They rode past—far enough away that they didn’t spot him or his horse but close enough for Kealan to see the red heads of Caitie and Daire.
He jumped to his feet once more. The riders were heading west, not south. Kealan waited, his heart loud in his ears. As soon as they were out of sight, he took off running. He left his horse behind and kept to the edge of the river.
He found Renny first. Blood covered her head, she didn’t move and her horse lay next to her, shot dead.
“Renny, wake up,” he cried. No matter how much he shook her she didn’t move.
“Matt! Come quick!” Kealan shouted, running toward the small clearing where Daire and Matthew’s saddles sat with the supplies. No one was there.
“Matthew?” Fear choked his throat and kept him from screaming when he saw his brothers’ horses lying dead in the water.
He ran through the trees. A low moan made his knees shake. He almost fell. “Matt?” He peered around a tree trunk and saw his brother slumped against a tree.
“Matt! Wake up!”
Matthew opened his eyes. “Kea…” His voice trailed off.
Kealan shook his brother. When Matthew lifted his hand, Kea shrieked at the blood.
He found the stain of blood spreading on Matt’s trousers. He shook his brother. “Don’t die, Matt. Please don’t die.” Tears streamed down his face. He didn’t know what to do.
He glanced around wildly and spotted a pair of legs sticking out from some bushes. Cautiously, he approached and saw a stranger. He covered his mouth with his hands. The stranger was looking right at him, but his eyes were dead. Matthew’s knife stuck out of his chest.
Kea ran back to Matt. This time, his brother opened his eyes. “Renny,” he whispered.
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