Dreamkeepers

by Dorothy Garlock

  “Patrick, will you ever forgive me for the way I acted when you were here before?”

  “I don’t ever remember being here before, Mrs. Reneau.” His blue eyes were merry with teasing. “You have a lovely wife, Mr. Reneau,” he said to Adam. “May I kiss her?”

  “You may not!” Adam firmly pulled Molly back against him, folded his arms around her, and planted a quick kiss beneath her ear. “Her kisses are spoken for—for the next forty years.”

  Later that day Molly and Adam walked hand in hand into the sitting room of his father’s apartment. The old man was sitting in his same chair and watched them come toward him.

  “Hello, Papa,” Molly said and bent down to kiss his cheek.

  “Hello, daughter, son.” His eyes went to their interlaced fingers, then twinkled up to their eyes. “Sit down, sit down.”

  Adam pulled the big footstool up close to his father’s chair as he always did for Molly, but today he sat down on it and pulled her down onto his lap.

  “She loves me, Dad,” Adam said with a kind of wonder in his voice.

  “Well . . . ?”

  “I love her,” Adam said simply.

  The old man laughed loudly. “So Charlie’s plan worked, did it? I told him it would.” He grinned broadly, his faded old eyes lighting up at the news he had sprung on them.

  “You knew about the will?” Molly gasped.

  “Sure did. Charlie and I talked about it.”

  A glance told Molly that Adam was as surprised as she was by this news.

  “We—we came today to tell you,” she stammered.

  Robert Reneau settled back, enjoying the situation he had created. “Charlie came to see me before he made out the will. I’ve known Charlie Develon for thirty years. The doctors had given him about six months on the outside and he was worried about his girl. Of all the men he knew, son, he chose you to take care of his most precious possession. He wanted to get the two of you together and was planning to have you come and work with him when he returned from the expedition. He was sure you’d want her and love her once you met her.” He paused to see what impact his words had made on them and smiled to see his son’s arms tighten about his young wife. “He told me the plan and I thought it was a good one, but . . . I knew my son. Put the screws on him to force him to do something and he’ll rebel, Charlie, I told him. So I persuaded him to make a second will giving my son a choice.”

  “Why, you old rascal!” Adam exclaimed. “I didn’t know you even knew Charlie.”

  “How could you plan our lives like that? Why . . . we might not have even liked one another. Think of what the year would have been like for us if . . . you had been wrong!”

  “But we weren’t wrong. We were right.” The old man interrupted Molly gleefully. “The plan worked.”

  “Yes, it sure did!” Molly said, and slipped her arms around her husband’s neck.

  More Dorothy Garlock!

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  Train from Marietta

  Available in March 2006.

  Prologue

  1933

  THE DOOR OPENED SUDDENLY. Startled, Eddy reared up out of the chair, a glass of brandy in his hand. “Oh, it’s you. Come in, Uncle William.”

  “Drinking alone?” The portly silver-haired man was dressed in gray, from his ten-dollar hat to the custom-made shoes on his feet. He surveyed the cluttered room. Little light penetrated the blinds that covered the large windows. Empty bottles littered the tabletops, and clothes were strewn over the backs of the chairs. The lingering smell of cigarettes and alcohol filled the air.

  “Occasionally I drink alone, don’t you?” Eddy took another swallow from his glass as he settled back into his seat. “What brings you out this time of night?”

  William Jacobs closed the door, then carefully removed his hat and hung it on the rack. “I wanted to catch you when you didn’t have a woman here.”

  Eddy set his glass down on the table by the chair. “I’m not the womanizer you think I am,” he said with indignation in his voice.

  “No. I think you’re just an easy mark for the little gold-digging flappers who hang out at your favorite speakeasy.”

  “You’d know a thing or two about flappers, wouldn’t you?”

  “You’d do well to remember, Edwin, which side of the bread your butter is on,” William said menacingly, one thick finger pointed at his nephew.

  “Why don’t you remind me, dear Uncle,” Eddy said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Don’t get smart with me, you little bastard!”

  “Don’t call me that!”

  “You are one, you know.”

  “How could I forget when you remind me day in and day out?” Eddy glared at his uncle.

  “Well, I know that my sister slept with every Tom, Dick, and Harry that came along. You could be nothing else.”

  “And don’t talk about my mother like that either.”

  “I took care of her all her life. I’ll talk about her any way I want to.”

  At this, the two men stared at one another in silence. They’d had this argument many times before; neither one was ever willing to back down.

  “What’s on your mind?” Eddy finally growled. “I’m sure something is or you’d be with your lady love.”

  “You know damn well what’s on my mind and you’d better listen. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll forget about my lady love.” William paused, then made his way through the clutter to where his nephew sat. “We’re in deep trouble, and you’re in it just as deep as I am. We’ve got to get some ready cash and soon. You’re going to help me.”

  “I’ll do what I can, short of robbing a bank.” Eddy chuckled.

  “What I’ve got in mind is easier than that and at no risk to you—”

  “What do you mean, ‘no risk to you’? Who do you want me to kill?”

  “I wouldn’t trust you to kill a grasshopper. You’d be sure to mess it up.”

  “Then what do you want me to do?”

  For the next several minutes, Eddy listened with increasing shock as his uncle laid out his plan. He could scarcely believe what he was hearing! Finally, he shot to his feet. “I will not do it!”

  “You will do it, or you’ll be out of this fancy apartment on your ass and not get another dime from me. Look at the easy life you’ve had all these years. You owe me. Don’t forget that I’m the one who pays for this apartment and the clothes on your back. I’m responsible for you being accepted by the Tylers to court their daughter, Susie. If you had half the sense you were born with, you’d get her pregnant and marry her. Then you’d have it made, even if she’s not her father’s favorite daughter. If we don’t get one hundred thousand dollars soon, we could both land in prison.”

  Eddy looked at his uncle as if he had never seen him before. “I just can’t do what you’re asking. I like her.”

  “That’s got nothing to do with it. If you do what I tell you, no one will get hurt. And you don’t have to do it alone. Squirrelly’s going with you.”

  “Squirrelly! You can’t be serious.”

  “He’s going. At least he’s loyal and I can trust him.”

  “You can’t trust me?” Eddy yelled.

  “Keep your voice down, you fool. I’ve contacted a man in Texas who’s put me in touch with someone who knows every stick and stone in the territory. He’ll be a big help.”

  “You know that Squirrelly has about as many brains as a bedbug.”

  “He may not be very smart but he’ll stay in line. I’ll give him his orders.”

  Eddy looked down at the floor as he pushed a hand through his curly blond hair. “I haven’t said I was going to do it. I’ve got to think about it.”

  His anger boiling over, William snatched the brandy glass from the table and hurled it against the wall behind Eddy. Broken glass and brandy flew in all directions.

  “Here’s something for you to think about, you ungrateful little whelp. Neither one of us will
go to prison if we pay the money back. Which do you prefer? Who do you think will take the brunt of an investigation? A young whippersnapper like you or a respected businessman like me?”

  “But—”

  “No buts. It’s time for you to pay me back for all I’ve done for you. Well? Yes or no?”

  Eddy’s shoulders slumped before he quietly said, “I’ll do it.”

  “I thought you would.”

  Eddy hated the gloating look on his uncle’s face. “Does your lady love know about this?”

  “She knows.”

  William walked to the door, picked up his hat, and put it on. He took a cigar from his coat pocket, bit off the end, and spit it out on the oriental carpet.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow night to give you all the details. Get ready to leave by Sunday, Edwin.”

  William went out and slammed the door.

  All was quiet in the room. Eddy stood up, walked over to the bureau, and pulled a bottle of brandy from the cupboard, pouring himself another drink. He carried it across the room and dropped back into his chair. As he took his first gulp, only one thing filled his mind.

  How was he going to do this terrible thing?

  Chapter One

  T.C. DIDN’T KNOW MUCH about style, but he knew the woman in the small depot was fashionably dressed. She was obviously from the city and as out of place as a rose in a cactus patch. She wore a small blue felt hat over light blond hair, which fell to her shoulders. Her princess coat came down over slim hips. The flared blue skirt that floated around her calves was edged with a blue satin ribbon. Her matching shoes, with slender heels, were planted firmly beside an expensive leather valise.

  What a silly hat, T.C. thought, chuckling to himself. It’d offer no shade at all. Within ten minutes, her face would be cooked in the West Texas sun.

  T.C. had glanced at her when he left the ticket counter and had wondered what she was doing in this rugged Texas town.

  Worried about her trunk, Kate had gotten off the train to make sure it was in the baggage car. When the rail agent told her it had been left at the last stop and was being picked up by the train from Marietta, she had decided to wait and go on to California on the same train as her belongings. She wondered now at the wisdom of her decision. Shortly after she’d spoken with him, the agent had locked up and left. Now, all that remained on the platform with her were a lone cowboy and the button salesman who had been on the train ever since New Orleans.

  The sun was setting in the western sky. Purple shadows were coming down from the hills. It would be dark soon. A slight chill had entered the air with the disappearance of the hot summer sun. The depot was far from town; all she could see of it was a handful of lights from the houses. The train from Marietta wasn’t due for another hour. It would be pitch dark by then.

  She was glad for the presence of the cowboy at the end of the platform. She’d first glanced at him when he’d left the ticket counter; her gaze had met his even though she’d known that she shouldn’t make eye contact with strangers, particularly one as rough as the cowboy. Dusty boots and well-worn jeans made him look like he’d just come in off the range. He was wearing a battered hat that covered black hair. His mouth was set in a thin line as if he somehow disapproved of her. What was he doing here at this time of night? Regardless of his appearance, she didn’t want to be alone with the other man.

  The salesman, dressed in a stripped suit with a derby hat, paced back and forth near his sample case. She’d had the misfortune of taking the same route to California with him. When they’d first gotten on the train in New Orleans, he’d prattled on and on about buttons and snaps for hours. His twitchy, talkative nature had given her the creeps.

  As the three stood waiting for the train, it seemed to her that they were the only people in all this vast and desolate land.

  A door in the side of the depot opened on squeaky hinges. An old man pushed a trolley down to the end of the platform, leaving it so its bundles could be loaded into the baggage car when the train arrived. He then disappeared around the corner of the depot.

  The button salesman coughed and took a step toward her. She turned to see the cowboy was looking in their direction. She pushed herself away from the rough board wall and quickly walked over to him.

  “Is this train usually on time?”

  “Sometimes,” he said. “This isn’t Grand Central Station, you know.”

  “Well, what do you know? I thought it was.” She smiled up at him. But he didn’t smile back.

  What did she expect? He clearly couldn’t take a joke. He’d probably just heard of Grand Central Station and had never been there.

  “Thanks for that valuable information.” She turned and walked back to take her place against the wall. At least the salesman had taken the hint and had moved back to his case. She looked at her watch but couldn’t see the time in the dim light. She nudged the leather valise at her feet and thought that if her trunk never arrived, at least she had clean underwear and her cosmetics.

  Then, in the distance, she heard the familiar sounds of a train approaching. Could the thing be earlier than the agent predicted or had an hour passed already? She looked at the cowboy and saw that he was peering down the track toward the east. Her eyes followed his, and soon she saw the billows of smoke rising up above the huge engine. The piercing whistle was loud enough to wake everybody for miles. The engineer was making a grand entrance into the station. Too bad there was only her, the cowboy, and the button salesman to appreciate the effort.

  The train rolled slowly past her before finally coming to a stop. Two cars were brightly lit and filled with passengers, most of whom already appeared to be sleeping. Katherine picked up her valise, walked to the edge of the platform, and waited for the conductor to step down from the train. The older man smiled, took her elbow, and helped her up the steps into the car.

  The cowboy was right behind her and edged past the conductor, who tipped his hat politely. Katherine turned to the right and entered the car. Halfway down she saw what she thought was an empty seat. Carrying her valise, she made her way along the aisle, but then realized a man sleeping in the seat. Frowning, she continued on until she finally found a vacant seat. She set the heavy valise down on the floor.

  When she turned, the cowboy was still right behind her. With a grunt, she attempted to lift the heavy bag up and put it in the rack above the seat. Quick as a whistle, the cowboy snatched it out of her hand, and, as he slung it upward, the latch opened and her personal belongings spilled out over the seat and onto the floor. She looked down in horror to see a pair of her lace panties covering a pair of dusty cowboy boots.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  Katherine was more embarrassed than she’d ever been in her entire life. All she could think to say was, “I bet you are.”

  The cowboy pulled her valise from the rack and set it down in the seat beside her. He gathered a handful of lavender lace panties, silk slips, and lacy bras, stuffing all of them back into the valise. When he did, a jar of face cream fell onto his foot and opened. White cream ran down over the cowboy’s boot. The smell of gardenias filled the air in the passenger car. All around the car, people were stretching their necks to look.

  She thought the cowboy said something under his breath. It sounded like “Oh, hell!” but she wasn’t sure.

  Fearing that he would wipe the face cream off his boot with her lavender panties, she pulled a big handkerchief out of her pocket and handed it to him. He jerked it out of her hand with a disgusted look on his face and proceeded to wipe the cream off his boot. After glancing up and down the aisle to make sure he had picked up everything that had fallen from her bag, he tipped his hat toward Katherine and moved on to the front of the train in search of an empty seat of his own.

  Fuming as the man walked away, Katherine sat down and moved over next to the window. He’d made her look stupid in front of everyone! She was certain that her face was beet red with embarrassment. What a grouch, she thought. It wasn’t
her fault he was so clumsy. Were all the men in the west clods like him?

  A cough that came from the aisle caused her to turn. The button salesman stood with his hand stretched out toward her. There, clutched between his fingers, was one of her bras. She snatched it from his hand, pushed it into the pocket of her coat, and looked back out the window. The salesman chuckled before walking on.

  Until now, the first part of the trip had been a pleasure. What more could possibly happen before she reached California?

  Tate Castle, better known as T.C., moved on to the next car in the train in search of an empty seat. Finding one, he threw himself into it.

  He never wanted to see that city woman again! All he was trying to do was help her lift that damned bag. How was he supposed to know that it was going to fly apart? Did women actually wear those kinds of undergarments? Holding a handful of them was like holding a handful of air!

  Regardless, he was glad to be finally heading home. It seemed like forever had passed since he’d seen his ranch, his friends, and, most important, his daughter. He’d missed her something terrible and knew that she’d missed him too.

  It was still a couple of hours to Muddy Creek where he would get off the train. He was bone tired. Tipping his hat down over his eyes, T.C. tried to sleep. The smell of flowers drifted up from his boot.

  The train began to slow, the sound of the steel wheels screeching against the tracks waking Katherine. The train came to a stop at the next depot in a little town called Los Rios. A new group of passengers came on board. A very heavy-set woman, carrying bundles of clothing under her arms, came down the aisle and plunked herself in the seat beside Katherine. She looked over at her and grinned, showing snuff-stained teeth. Katherine smiled, then quickly turned away; it was obvious the woman had not bathed in quite a while.

  “Hello, dearie, where are you goin’?”

  Katherine acted as if she hadn’t heard, and kept her face turned toward the window.