by Linda Broday
“You expect me to cry?”
Brett whirled. “I want you to wake up. Look at all the beauty and the gifts around you. You were granted life for a reason. You should appreciate all you’ve been given.”
Adam crossed his arms. “Oh, you mean being a breed? And having a father who hates the very sight of me? Sure thing, Uncle.”
“I don’t know about a father, but I’m no stranger to hate.”
“People hate Indians, but breeds worst of all.”
“Your attitude doesn’t make it better. One day you’ll see that.”
“Yeah? Well…”
Seeing he was making no progress, Brett walked to the door. “I was going to take you on a trip. If you want to go, find me.”
With that, he turned the knob and strode downstairs to wait.
The situation reminded him of an Indian parable a wise old man had told him about everyone having two wolves inside. One was good, the other bad. Only one could survive all a man’s life. Whichever one you fed would win.
Sadness filled Brett to see the bad wolf winning the fight for Adam’s soul.
The wise man who’d told him the story was Isaac Daffern. Daffern had rescued Brett, Cooper, and Rand when they were boys. They’d escaped an orphan train and walked for days to Hannibal, Missouri, where they worked hauling water in a bathhouse. One night when Brett was only eight years old, a man accused him of stealing his watch. Tolbert Early beat him really bad. Cooper—who was fourteen—shot Early, and they had to run for their lives.
Daffern took them to his ranch and taught them to be men. He showed them how to run a ranch, have love for the land and animals, and most of all to love themselves.
Brett missed that old man who’d been like a father. He could sure use Daffern’s wisdom now. He glanced out the window at the people hurrying by. Opening the door, he found a seat on a bench in front of the hotel.
Pretty soon, Rand rode into town, spied Brett sitting there, and dismounted at the hitching rail. “Now, I sure don’t ever recall seeing you sitting on this bench—or any bench in town for that matter—in the middle of the day, little brother. What are you doing?”
“Waiting for my sister.”
Rand sat down next to him. “When did she get here?”
“Yesterday.” It was hard to imagine. Seemed like Sarah and Adam had already been there a week.
“How’s it going?” Rand slapped at a fly buzzing around his head.
“Everything is fine. I like her. She answered a lot of my questions about who I was and where I came from.”
“Glad to hear it. The mystery really bothered you. But if it’s going so well with your sister, why do you look like you just went to someone’s funeral?”
Great. Now Brett would have to rehash the whole thing. Why couldn’t Cooper and Rand get together when he was telling something so he’d only have to say it once? “Ask Coop.”
“Not around. Busy with sheriffing duties, I’m told.” An ever-present grin spread across Rand’s face. “So shoot. Why the dark scowl?”
Brett gave a long-suffering sigh and went over all the problems with his disrespectful nephew once more. Hopefully for the last damn time. “He’s breaking his mother’s heart. I don’t know if I can help him.”
“I’m betting on you, little brother. It takes time for a kid to accept who he is and look for the best in himself. My son Toby had to do this, and he’s only six. Guilt ate him up two months ago when Nate Fleming tried to take him from us and was killing everyone who got in his way. Toby saw it as his duty to take on the sins of his outlaw father and his evil rampage.”
“How is the boy doing?” Brett asked quietly, remembering that horrifying time, not knowing when Fleming would strike next, or where.
“Healthy and happy and loving every minute of life with his sisters. He’s the best kid. Adam can be also, under your expert tutelage.”
“Tutelage? When did you learn to speak so fancy? And what have you done with my brother?”
“Callie’s been teaching me these big words like peruse and flagellate. Says she’s broadening my horizons, whatever the heck that means.”
“Well, when you’re with us common folk, just speak it plain so we can understand you.” Brett sighed, stretching out his long legs.
“Where’s Miss Rayna? How’s she doing?”
“She started working for Doc this morning. He needed a nurse, and she seems to have a gift for patching up people.”
“That’s great news. She does seem suited for it.”
“How are the rest of the kids?”
“Wren is growing like a weed. She’s almost six months old. And Mariah is looking more and more like her mother. It’s amazing what can happen in a short time. It’s as though Mariah has always lived with us. She doesn’t even have nightmares anymore.”
“Poor kid. Fleming did his best to kill her.”
“Yeah, but he didn’t. She’s tough.”
“How’s Callie?”
“Just fine.” Rand’s eyes lit up. “That wife of mine is something else. I’m a lucky man.”
Rand’s life had really changed over the last four months. He went from a determined bachelor to a family man with three children who he loved more than his land and the ranch he bought from the sale of his saloon.
It just showed that a man didn’t always know what waited around the next corner.
The Bachelors of Battle Creek had shrunk to one.
And that’s where it would stay.
Brett’s thoughts turned to Rayna. A little more than a week ago, she had no hope. She was locked in a cell, with no future. Now she was making friends and had a job in a hospital.
She was no longer an outcast and had discovered she could be one of the normal people she’d envied.
Just proved anything was possible.
Even more possible was the fact that with her new freedom and money, she wouldn’t want him. Waiting got tedious. Just a matter of time before she found someone else to settle down with and have a houseful of children.
Throbbing pain shot into his heart, nearly doubling him over.
Twelve
Once Rayna put on a white apron, Doc Yates kept her moving from one patient to the next. The small hospital had eight beds, and seven were full.
She visited every person and acquainted herself with their case, plumped pillows, spread blankets, and in general made them comfortable. Doc even let her change a dressing under his watchful eye. More than one told her they’d never received better care or felt a more comforting touch. Her chest swelled with pride.
It neared lunchtime when Doc Yates rounded the corner and headed for her. “Nurse Harper, I couldn’t be happier with your work. You’ve been a godsend.”
“Thank you, Doctor. I’m enjoying being of help.”
“Would you like to go pick up the patients’ food at the café? They usually have it ready about now.”
“I’d love to.”
Still smiling five minutes later, she strolled toward the Three Roses. Everyone she met said hello and wished her a nice day.
Maybe Brett was right in saying she could be just as normal as anyone.
But when she reached Main Street and turned left, her smile vanished, and she froze.
A wagon piled high with sun-bleached bones was parked next to the mercantile.
A dull-eyed woman and three raggedy children stood beside it. A man whose eyes showed the same dullness sat on the wagon bench. People were giving the family a wide berth. She didn’t recognize them, just their pitiful circumstances. Though she wished she could walk by without sparing them a glance, she could not.
Even though it took every bit of courage she had. Her heart went out to the family, especially the children, who didn’t have a say in how their parents made a living. As painful as it was to admit, she had been one of them.
A thick lump blocked her throat as she forced herself toward them.
Holding back a sob, Rayna drew closer to the mother, who d
idn’t look much older than she. The woman coughed into a dingy rag that, like the clothes they wore, had seen better days. When she lowered the cloth, it was blood spattered.
Rayna sucked in a breath and touched the woman’s thin shoulder with a trembling hand. “Ma’am, do you need help?”
With panic-stricken eyes, the woman shrank back, shaking her head furiously. Her man leaped from the wagon seat and planted himself between them. His matted, shaggy beard gave no hint of his age. “Leave my wife alone. She’s fine. We don’t want no trouble. We ask for nothin’; we take nothin’.”
“Sir, I only want to help. I work as a nurse for Doc. Your wife is sick.”
“She’ll be good as new in a few days. Only tired.” He laid a gentle hand on his wife and helped her to a seat on the boardwalk. He hurried to the wagon and came back with a cup of water.
A flock of crows suddenly flew down from the roof and perched on the bones. When Rayna counted five, her breath hitched painfully. Five crows were a sign of sickness.
At least there weren’t six. That meant death.
The children—two girls and a little boy who hadn’t been walking long—crowded around Rayna. She gave them a smile, wishing she had a few coins to press into their palms. By the way they shyly touched her dress, she knew they’d never seen anything so pretty.
An ache that went bone deep pierced her chest. “Hello, my name’s Rayna. What’s yours?”
The biggest of the children—who was around eight years old—whispered, “Alice.”
“That’s a beautiful name, Alice.”
The girl’s straggly, pale blonde hair hid her face. She ducked her head and hurried to her mother. The other children followed.
Rayna turned to the father. “Please let Doc take a look at your wife. These children need her.”
“We must go.” He pulled his wife to her feet and moved her toward the wagon. “We don’t have money for doctors. Get in the wagon, kids.”
“I know how desperate things are, sir, but if you change your mind, there’s a hospital one street over. You’ll be welcome.”
“No one welcomes us.”
Tears filled Rayna’s eyes as the pair of oxen pulled the wagon slowly down the street. He hadn’t lied. No one ever wanted bone-pickers in their town. They were outcasts.
Her heart broke for the little family. What would become of the children? Especially if their mother died. She knew how it was to lose a mother. She wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
She clutched a post that held up the building’s overhang and swallowed a rising sob. Where was justice for outcasts and lost mothers?
After a few minutes, she regained her self-control and remembered she had food to fetch for the patients.
Still, as she strolled toward the café, she was heartsore and raw inside, recognizing that at least part of it came from worry for Brett. What if that sheriff caught him again? What if Brett didn’t come back?
Such a thing would destroy her soul.
*
By the time noon arrived, Brett had everything he needed to make his trip. Leading the string of five horses, he neared the Lexington Arms Hotel, intending to try one more time with Adam.
Sarah had returned from her interview that morning with Potter Gray, and the man had hired her to keep the Texas Cattleman’s Hotel books.
Brett thought he should give up raising horses and just go around town finding people jobs.
And then he saw her, and his breath caught.
How could he miss that hair? Or the blue dress that brought out the color of her eyes.
Or the way his heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. Memories of the kiss beneath the moon-washed evergreen crowded into his head. How could they just be friends when his heart hungered for more?
He had to be satisfied with what he had and not yearn for the impossible. Wishing for more would end in failure and disappointment. Slowly he dragged his attention back to the woman who had his insides in an uproar.
Rayna walked slowly toward a bone-picker’s wagon. Her steps were hesitant, but she didn’t stop. He pulled to the side, out of the traffic, to watch.
Maybe she knew them. Though given his age, the man couldn’t be her father, and her brother was dead.
She seemed concerned about the woman, who didn’t look well. Though he couldn’t hear the conversation, he could see Rayna’s kindness toward them. But then, having lived that life would probably make her more sympathetic. She knew firsthand how hard bone-pickers had it.
When the family loaded up and drove slowly down the street, he crossed to the other side to speak to her.
A smile teased her lips and lit up her sad eyes when she saw him. “What a nice surprise. I thought you’d left.”
“Had some things to do first. Just came back into town to see if Adam changed his mind. He was dead set against it earlier.” Brett paused, then said low, “Saw you talking to that family. You have a big heart, Rayna Harper.”
“The mother is sick and coughing up blood. I was trying to get her to come to the hospital to see Doc, but her husband refused. I’m worried about her, Brett.”
The slight tremble in her voice revealed her concern. He saw that she was a hair away from tears, wanting to help but frustrated that she couldn’t. “You can’t make people do something they don’t want to.”
“Those children need her. And then five crows flew down and lit on the bones in the wagon.”
Brett was hard-pressed to keep from grinning. “What do five crows have to do with anything?”
“They foretell of sickness.” She sighed. “At least there weren’t six.”
He took it that six would’ve been real bad. “Given the woman’s symptoms, you didn’t need some birds to tell you what you already knew, did you?”
“Well, no.”
“I rest my case. Where are you headed?”
A light came into her eyes. “Doc Yates sent me to the café to pick up food for the patients. I love my job. Thank you for talking me into trying.”
“That’s what I’m here for. Do you mind if I walk with you to the café?”
“I’d love it.” She waited while Brett tied the horses to the hitching rail, then took his arm. “I’m gonna miss you.”
He glanced down at her small hand and smiled. Rayna made him feel special. Somehow, he saw his worth mirrored in her blue-green gaze. “I’ll miss you as well. Tell me the favorite part of your job so far.”
“Helping the patients. They’re stuck in bed and in such pain, but they’re immensely grateful for even the smallest things I do for them. It makes me feel good.”
“I’m glad. You have so much to give.”
Holding the door to the café, he wished he could accept what she’d offered him. He wanted more than a token of friendship.
Much more.
After carrying the lunches back to the hospital, he stood awkwardly, fighting the yearning to touch her but knowing that would be wrong. Finally, he tucked her smile into his heart, promised to be careful, and left. Collecting the horses, he moved down to the Lexington. His heart leaped when he saw Adam leaning up against a pole in front. “Glad you changed your mind, Nephew.”
Adam straightened. “Beats listening to that ticking clock in the hotel room. Just don’t talk.”
“Don’t worry on that account.” Brett handed him the reins to the horse he’d brought for the boy, just in case. He waited for him to mount, then silently turned and trotted out of town.
An hour later, they stopped to rest the horses and let them drink from a spring.
Brett didn’t speak a word to Adam. If the boy wanted silence, that’s what he’d give him.
Not a word left Brett’s mouth for the remainder of the day. He rode, listening to the clip-clop of hooves and the animals’ snorts. Every once in a while he glanced at Adam’s features, frozen in sullen lines.
The sun had slipped below the horizon before they made camp for the night. Brett went about his chores, paying Adam no mind. H
e laid a fire, boiled coffee, bedded the horses down, and killed a rabbit with the rifle Cooper had insisted he bring.
Adam watched it all. Finally, he asked, “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“You didn’t want me to talk. I was only respecting your wishes.”
“I didn’t mean ever.”
“Would you like to help cook our supper?”
At Adam’s shrug, Brett handed him a skewer with pieces of the rabbit on it, and made room on the log where he sat by the fire.
Side by side, they each held the meat over the flames while the moon rose above the treetops.
Brett recalled another such recent night with Rayna after Cooper and Rand had gotten them out of jail. How she refused to eat any of the rabbits. He’d meant to ask her more about that, but he’d forgotten in the wake of Sarah and Adam’s arrival.
When he got back, he’d try to get her to talk about it. He sensed a story there.
But it was more than idle curiosity. He wanted to know everything about her and the life she’d lived before he met her. She was one of those before and afters that divided an important part of his life.
Everything before he’d found her seemed trivial. Only the after interested him. He hadn’t been really alive until Rayna.
She’s just a friend, he reminded himself. That’s the way it had to be if he truly cared.
But convincing his heart…now that would take some time.
A coyote’s howl sent Adam scooting closer to him.
“The animal won’t hurt you unless it’s traveling in a pack,” Brett reassured the boy. “That one’s not. Our supper’s ready. Let’s eat.”
Adam pulled some meat off the sharpened stick and cautiously stuck it in his mouth. “Where are we going to sleep?”
Though Brett wanted to tell him to look around, he didn’t. “On the ground. On a bedroll. Haven’t you ever slept under the stars before?”
“Nope.”
The boy must’ve liked the taste of rabbit, because he crammed more into his mouth. Plainly his nephew had even more catching up to do than Brett thought. He just hoped he could teach him enough survival skills before the boy actually needed to use them.