White Deception

by Susan Edwards

  “Matt, you gotta come. She’s hurt. Bad. Like you.”

  Kealan tried hard to lift his brother, but he couldn’t budge him.

  Matt hissed with pain as he struggled to sit. “Get me a rag, Kea. Gotta stop this bleeding.”

  Taking off at a run, Kealan skidded to a stop in front of where the family had stopped. He dropped to his knees, thrust his hand into a bag and came out with one of Caitie’s calico dresses. One of her favorites. He started to put it back, then decided he didn’t have time to be going through more clothes.

  He ran back to his brother. Matt took the dress and yanked at the ruffled hem. “She’s going to be mad at you.” Matt’ s attempt at humor made Kealan cry.

  “You gotta get up, Matt. We gotta go after them. I saw ’em. They took Caitie and Daire and shot the horses.” He tried tugging on Matt again. This time his brother stopped him. “No. You…have to go…for help.”

  Kealan’s eyes grew big. “I can’t go by myself,” he whispered.

  “Got to, Kea. Need to get out of here in case they come back.”

  “I’ll get my horse. You can ride with me.” Crying, Kealan stood. Never had he felt so little in his life. Or so scared.

  “No. Too slow. You…go.”

  Kealan ran back to the supplies and grabbed the rifle and the sack of ammunition. He gave the weapon to his brother, then approached the dead man. Reaching out, he yanked the knife out of the man’s chest with both hands.

  He stumbled back and fell on his butt, then wiped the blade clean on some leaves, careful not to touch the blade and cut himself—just as he’d seen Matt do after using it to butcher an animal.

  He handed it to Matt, who said, “Now go, little brother.”

  Crying, Kealan crouched beside him and pulled at his arm. “You gotta come with me, Matt. I’m just a boy.”

  As much as he wanted to be like his older brothers, Kealan was very afraid he was still too little to do anything as important and dangerous as going for help.

  “Yes, you are hokshila. A boy,” Matt murmured. “But you are brave. And smart and cunning. You are Matohoksila, Bear Boy, when you live with the Sioux.” Matthew pulled a small leather pouch over his head and handed it to Kealan. “Take this. Go. Quickly.”

  Kealan took his brother’s medicine bag and pulled it on. He tucked the pouch against his heart—for courage—then took off running. His legs might be short, taking a long time to cover the ground back to where he’d left his horse, but with his brother’s faith and magic, he felt tall and fast.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mac pulled out a pocketwatch to check the time. His fingers clutched the timepiece as memories of the first time he’d seen it gripped him. He’d gone to see that banker for a loan. His Laura was sick, and the local doctor hadn’t held out any hope. He’d suggested Mac take her back east.

  Yes, he’d dressed in his Sunday-go-to-meeting best, had even brought Laura in so the bank man could see that there were no lies in him, that he desperately needed the funds. But the man sitting behind his fancy wood desk had remained cold and impassive.

  Mac had barely finished presenting his case when Harold E. Robertson had pulled that watch out of his suit pocket, making a silent point that Mac was taking up his precious time.

  Desperate, Mac had ignored the dismissal and brought Laura forward, begging the man for help. But as Mac had no collateral, the bank had no money to lend him. It didn’t matter that Mac was hardworking. He’d even offered to work in the bank each night, sweeping floors—anything in order to save his daughter’s life.

  Closing his eyes, Mac pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers as waves of anger rolled through him. Robertson, the cold bastard, had just leaned back in his leather chair as though conducting a social visit, not discussing whether an innocent little girl would live or die.

  “Please,” he’d begged. He’d had no pride, didn’t care that the tears rolled down his clean-shaven face.

  Robertson had stood and paced behind the desk, glancing out the window. “My grandfather was in the banking business. Boston. He didn’t make his money by giving it away. Understand, Mr. Clemmings, this is business through and through.” And then he’d held up the watch.

  “See this watch? It’s old. Doesn’t keep exact time, but I keep it anyway. Know why?” Robertson hadn’t waited for Mac to reply.

  “I keep it because it was my grandfather’s and he set great store in keeping personal affairs and business separate. Said there was time in a man’s life for both. The key is in remembering which is which. It’s a daily reminder.

  “What you are asking of me is to make a decision based on personal feelings.” He turned to face Mac. “While I feel for you, I don’t loan out the bank’s money based on personal desires. I’m sorry. The answer remains no.”

  “Please, sir, you are my daughter’s only hope. You will get your money back. Every cent plus. I swear this to you.”

  “Can’t take the risk, Mr. Clemmings.” With a snap, he’d closed the watch and dropped it back in his pocket. Then he’d stood and ordered Mac to leave on his own two feet or be tossed out.

  Mac shook off the memory that had condemned Laura to her long, slow death. He snapped the watch closed and stared at it. During the robbery, he had taken the watch with the idea of destroying it. He’d hated the watch and all it stood for.

  But he had eventually decided to keep it instead, taking great pleasure each time he looked at it, held it, in knowing that for every day of his life, Robertson would suffer as he, Mac, suffered still.

  When Mac’s young wife had died, he’d grieved. But there’d been nothing anyone could do. She’d died in childbirth, leaving him Laura as a reminder of their love. But Laura’s death had been needless. Lack of money and compassion had been what killed her.

  Robertson was a hard, cold, unfeeling bastard. He’d killed Laura as surely as if he’d put a gun to her head and pulled the trigger. So Mac had taken his lesson from the banker. He’d taken what the man valued most with the same cold detachment.

  Returning his attention now to the ransom note, he tried to write it with the same cold detachment, but his hand shook. A splatter of ink ruined his effort. He crumpled the paper and tossed it aside. Agitated, he dropped the quill and paced.

  The past, never far away, seemed hell-bent on making him suffer. He didn’t want to remember, but those events had led him to where he was today, and what he was doing.

  Damn, it had all been so unnecessary. He’d have repaid all the money, he’d have worked hard and long for the chance to save Laura. He kicked a rock and watched it roll down the bluff.

  It dislodged other stones and pebbles. A small cloud of dust rose as the rubble slid to the bottom. It didn’t matter that he’d rebuilt his life, for he’d only built a clever facade to hide behind until he found the money he’d been forced to bury.

  Grim resolve hardened his features. He didn’t want to take more lives, had no quarrel with these kids. Hell, in his own way was even fond of them, but if it was a choice of them or taking what he was owed, then that was the way of it.

  Turning, he went back to his task of writing the ransom note, writing it quickly then folding it and stuffing it in his shirt pocket. He didn’t anticipate getting any money—in fact, his plan was to make sure the kids found their way home before the demand was met. All he wanted was for the O’Brien siblings to vacate the land. And after nearly losing two of their own, surely they would decide to move into town where it was safer. Standing, he resumed his pacing along the top of the bluff. Staring down at the house in the distance, he frowned. Having the ’breed staying with Matilda made things a bit more risky. He hadn’t anticipated seeing the man again. He grinned. He’d nearly choked on his supper when he’d caught sight of Reed helping himself to a plate of food at the celebration of Mattie and Gil.


  Mac had thought himself a dead man when the ’breed stared right at him—but then he didn’t show even a flicker of recognition. His new identity was foolproof.

  In the distance, Mac saw riders approaching. No one else followed. From the high ridge of land, Mac had a clear view of the rolling hills spread out before him. His plan was working. Soon, he’d have all the freedom he wanted to search for his money.

  Grabbing his rifle, he climbed down to a grouping of boulders at the base. It wasn’t as secure as a cave, but it would do. He didn’t figure on holding the kids for long.

  “Eh, mister, we got them brats,” a voice called out.

  Mac adjusted his false beard and wig and an old, dusty, squashed hat. He stepped forward and scanned the two men and two kids. Frowning, he indicated the two kids.

  “Where’s the other boy? And your other partner? You said there were three of you.” Three men hired to kidnap three kids.

  Jasper slid down with Caitie struggling in his arms. She was bound and gagged. “Weren’t no others. Took care of the two older ones and killed the horses like you said. Easy. They won’t be gettin’ nowhere for a while. Mebbe ever.” He smirked.

  “Dead?” Mac’s blood went cold. That hadn’t been part of his plan. He’d just wanted them knocked out to slow their return.

  “Not when we left ’em. But the injun fought, killed my brother.” Jasper was looking uncomfortable. He looked to the man on his right.

  “My cousin here is tellin’ the truth. These was the only younguns.”

  Then Mac’s eyes went wide as the man pulled off a bandana and leveled a revolver at him.

  “Leo!” Mac swallowed nervously.

  “In the flesh, ya double-crosser. Thought mebbe you’d got yerself killed till I heard you was here.” He swaggered forward, handing the reins of his horse to Jasper. “Where’s the money, Mac?” His voice was low, as if he didn’t want Jasper to hear.

  Sweating beneath his wig, Mac swallowed but kept his voice gruff. Controlled. “Don’t have it. Had no choice but to ditch the loot and leave the area. When I came back, I tried to find it but couldn’t. Still can’t.”

  At Leo’s look of disbelief, he hurried on. “It’s here. Buried somewhere. Fire took out my landmarks, but I at least know the area. Unfortunately, the land is owned by these kids and their siblings. Too risky to be caught digging. Will raise questions in town.”

  Mac nodded at Jasper. “That’s why I hired your cousins. I needed to drive them away.” He kept his voice low so the kids wouldn’t hear. He didn’t want to have to kill them.

  Not trusting his old cohort, Mac kept his rifle trained on Leo, who was doing the same to him with his pistol. “Shoot me and you get nothing. Work with me, help me find it, and half is yours as we agreed.”

  Jasper approached. He’d tied the horses to a shrub. He glanced from one gun-wielding man to another. “Wha’s he talkin’ ’bout, Leo? Wha’ money? You didn’t say nothin’ ’bout hidden money. Thought we was gonna rob a bank.” Jasper looked excited. “We’s gonna be rich! Wait till the boys back home get a load of me in some of ’em fancy shirts and trousers.”

  A shot rang out, startling Mac. He watched Jasper fall with horrified disbelief. Leo shrugged.

  “Expendable. You was a fool to trust them. Stupid idiots, the pair. Now it’s back to bein’ jest me and you—so start talkin’.”

  Mac stared at the two wide-eyed kids. He had no wish to kill innocents. But his Laura had been innocent, and no one had cared that she’d died. When the parents of the O’Briens had come across him burying the money, he hadn’t hesitated to kill them. It had been a choice of forfeiting the money or making sure they were no threat to him. So he’d taken enough money to see him through, buried the rest and left the area.

  Sighing, he stared at the children. The sight of the little girl frozen in terror, chest heaving with silent sobs, got to him. He didn’t want to care; caring was dangerous, but inside he knew he could never hurt the little one.

  He addressed Daire, keeping his voice low and gruff so the boy wouldn’t recognize him.

  “If you can keep your sister quiet, I’ll take her gag off. And free her hands. She screams, and I tie her back up.”

  Fury burned in the boy’s darkened eyes, but he nodded. Mac motioned to Leo. “Get them inside, then we talk.”

  “And have you shoot me in the back?”

  “Got no choice but to deal with you. Someone needs to stay and guard them while I deliver the ransom note.”

  He kept his gaze away from the kids. Too much was at stake to go soft now. He also had to be careful. If they recognized him, he’d have no choice but to kill them.

  Leo walked sideways to Daire and bent down to slice the rope binding his ankles. Then he yanked the boy’s gag off. “Run and I’ll shoot ya. Then yer sis here won’t have no one. Understand?”

  Nodding, Daire went to Caitie and picked her up by sliding his bound hands over her head, bending, then gathering her to him with his arms. “Release her hands,” he ordered.

  Leo chuckled. “Full of yerself, ain’t ya, to be orderin’ me ’round.”

  “Do it,” Mac said. He stared down at Daire. “In there. And keep her quiet.” With Caitie’s arms wrapped tightly around his neck, Daire took her into the shelter.

  Mac set his rifle down. “Now we talk. Kill me and no one gets the money.”

  Leo lowered his revolver.

  “Talk.”

  * * *

  Sitting a short distance from the fire, Mattie hugged her knees to her chest. The soft pops and sharp snaps of flame didn’t comfort her, but neither did they make her break out into a cold sweat. It had taken her a long time to be able to sit close enough to a fire without flashing back to the barn. She could think about it now, even remember. Only in her dreams did it take on a lifelike reality.

  The sound of wood being tossed onto the fire startled her, as did the burst of embers flaring to life. The flames roared, heat reached out. She scooted back.

  “Warn me before you do that,” she said softly.

  “Didn’t mean to startle you,” Reed said.

  “It didn’t. Well, it did—but not for the reason you think.” She hesitated. It was going to be a long night; she was afraid to sleep lest the dreams return. Or the visions. Talking would help pass the time.

  “I tend to be a bit afraid of fires,” she explained, not knowing what he knew of her.

  “You lost your husband in a fire. I’d forgotten,” Reed said. “Day of your wedding.”

  Mattie wasn’t surprised that he knew. Most did. “Collin died trying to save my life. I escaped the barn. He didn’t.” She heard Reed’s sharp intake of breath.

  “I didn’t know you’d been in the fire.” He hesitated. “You weren’t hurt?”

  “Oh, I was hurt.” She ran her fingers down a burn mark on the outside of her thigh. “I have some burns, but that wasn’t as bad as having part of the roof collapse on top of me. Lost my sight because of the injury to my head.”

  Mattie heard Reed shift. His voice was soft when he spoke. “Mattie, I didn’t know. Thought maybe you’d been born blind. You seem so comfortable with it.” He snapped a twig in half.

  “Didn’t have much choice,” Mattie said, wrapping her arms back around her knees. “Had a family to think of. Couldn’t be a burden.” She turned her head toward him.

  “Do you know that when you lose one sense, you gain others?”

  Reed ran a finger down her nose. “You’ve made it quite clear to me that you see better than I do.” He didn’t sound resentful.

  “I should get your bedding,” he said. You must be exhausted. We only have a few hours until it’ll be light enough to continue.”

  Whether it was day or night made little difference to her, and had it been Matthew, they
’d have continued on without stopping except to rest the horses. He knew the way so well, traveling in the dark would have posed no problem. Tonight they’d traveled until Reed called a halt.

  “I won’t need it.”

  “Mattie, you need to sleep.”

  “No. I can’t.” She wouldn’t.

  “More visions?”

  “Dreams. Nightmares. They will come.” She heard Reed stand, felt him brush against her as he walked past. Then he was back, dropping a bundle next to her.

  “You still need to keep warm.” Instead of sitting beside her, he sat behind her, pulling her against him. His warmth once more surrounded her, gave her the comfort she needed but would not have asked for.

  “Reed?”

  “Hush. It’s going to be a long night. Don’t think I’ll be sleeping either. At least this way, we’ll stay warm.”

  A blanket around her shoulders didn’t compare to the warmth of his body, so Mattie silently gave in and relaxed against him. “Thank you.”

  She sighed. He still didn’t believe that they were meant to be together, but with every passing moment the ties between them grew stronger. It worried her that if he broke them, left her to return to his life, it might destroy her.

  She’d grieved over the death of her husband but hadn’t known him all that long. He’d been kind, and she suspected that she’d loved the idea of getting married. And of securing her family as a married woman, with no one ever trying to take Caitie and Kealan and Daire from her.

  The thought that she might not have loved Collin as much as Reed obviously loved his wife saddened her. Over time, she might have developed that deep love and bond, but fate had taken the chance from her.

  “Tell me about your life,” she asked.

  “Not much to tell,” Reed said. Mattie felt him stiffen.

  “It bothers you to talk about it?”

  Reed remained silent for so long that Mattie gave up. Then at last he spoke. “I was born to a woman who lived off the needs of men.”