“Would you like to hold your son? Juanita started him on some goat’s milk, and it seems to agree with him better than the canned or cow’s milk. He’s fattening up quite nicely.”
Laura held out her arms for the baby. Lucas knew his mother despite the conflicts and troubles that had surrounded them since his birth. He nestled against her breast and settled almost immediately into sleep.
“He’s still so very small. I know neither one of us would be here if not for you, Rissa.” The sisters locked gazes. “Thank you for what you’ve done,” Laura added.
“We all had a hand in fighting for you.” Carissa settled beside Laura on the bed. “I’ve never been more frightened.”
“Me either.” Laura glanced down at her son’s sleeping form. “I can’t remember much about those days right after Lucas was born, but I knew it was desperate.”
“It was. All I could think about during that time was what you’d said to me about if I wasn’t willing to risk loving someone because they might die, then I’d have to include you. I kept wondering if your words were some kind of a forewarning of your . . . death. It was more than I could bear. I begged God for your life and for Lucas’s, too. I knew I had to keep him alive for you or you’d give up fighting despite having Brandon and Daniel to live for.”
“I suppose I might have,” Laura admitted. “I certainly didn’t have a lot of strength to fight.” She seemed to grow weak. “Why don’t you put him in the cradle? I’m feeling tired again.”
“That’s to be expected.” Carissa reached out to take the baby. “Remember what the doctor said: You will need a good long time to regain your strength.”
“I’m so glad you came to stay the summer with us.”
“Well, if I have anything to say about it, I’ll be staying in the area permanently.” Carissa put the baby in his bed and returned to Laura’s side. “I bought Tyler’s ranch.”
“What?”
“You heard me right. I took the money in that account Father left me and bought Tyler’s ranch. The county was about to auction it off or let it go for homestead. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let Tyler lose his home.”
“So will you sell it back to him?”
“No, I can’t,” Carissa admitted. “Terms of the sale forbid it. So my plan is to get him to marry me instead.”
“Marry?” Laura looked at Carissa as if she’d suddenly grown a second head. “For land?”
“No, silly, because I love him.” Carissa smiled. “I love him more than I thought possible, and Gloria loves him, too. She already has been calling him her papa Tyer.”
“Oh dear. What if Tyler isn’t of a mind to marry?”
Carissa shrugged. “I can’t let myself think that way. I have to stay positive for Gloria’s sake as well as my own. I believe Tyler cares a great deal for her. He said he loved her. Maybe that’s enough for now. I mean . . . well . . . if he doesn’t love me.”
Laura smiled. “I think we know he cares quite deeply for you.”
“He’s been gone a long while and things could have changed. I’m trying my best to leave it in God’s hands and not be that silly girl with stars in her eyes who married Malcolm Lowe.”
“You’ll never be that girl again,” Laura said, “and frankly, I’m glad. That Carissa was self-centered and had no purpose to serve but her own. I loved her, but I love and admire the woman you’ve become.”
“Thank you.” Carissa got to her feet and leaned down to kiss Laura’s cheek. “I love and admire you, as well. But then, I always have. I suppose I will always look up to you. That’s why it’s important to me that you approve of my marrying Tyler.”
“Of course I approve,” Laura said, sounding even more tired.
“Good,” Carissa replied. “You get some rest and when you wake up, we’ll talk about planning the wedding.”
Carissa left her sister and made her way back to the kitchen. Hannah and Juanita were busy preparing food, so Carissa presumed the sheriff had headed back to town.
“Lunch is nearly ready,” Hannah said. “Would you mind fetching the children?”
“Happily,” Carissa said, patting her own waist. “I feel like I could eat a bear.”
Hannah laughed. “Well, it’s just stew and biscuits. Hopefully that will satisfy you.”
Carissa had no sooner stepped out the back door when Gloria began pulling her toward the other children. “Mama, come see the kitties.” She let go of her hold on Carissa and reached into a basket of kittens.
The mewing animal protested the loss of its mother’s nearness, and Marty chided Gloria. “Put him back. He’s too little to be away from his mama.” Gloria frowned, but did as she was instructed. Marty rubbed her curly blond head. “Good girl.”
Carissa peered in the laundry basket at the swirling mass of fur. “How many are there?”
“Eight,” Marty said as proudly as if she’d borne them herself.
“That’s a quite a few mouths to feed.” Carissa saw Gloria reach again for the babies. “No, no, Gloria. You must leave them to be with their mama.”
“Besides,” Marty said, getting to her feet, “it’s almost lunchtime. Remember I told you that when we finished eating we’d make some toys?” She glanced up at Carissa. “We’re gonna make some new playthings for Lucas.”
“That sounds like a fine idea.” She straightened and nodded to Gloria. “You go wash up with Marty and the boys. I need to visit the necessary and then I’ll join you.”
Carissa quickly saw to her needs and was about to head to the house to wash up when she heard a noise coming from behind the pen where the goats were kept. She listened and thought it sounded like one of the goats was in distress. Seeing none of the men who might help, Carissa went to investigate on her own. When she arrived at the pen she spotted the problem immediately. One of the young kids had managed to get tangled in the lines where the older goats were often tied to be milked.
“Poor baby,” she said, pulling the kid’s legs from the mess. Once she’d freed the animal, Carissa had to laugh at the way he jumped and kicked his way across the pen. “I’d probably do the same,” she called after him.
Making sure that the ropes were hung over the top of the fence, Carissa secured the gate. The latch wanted to stick, and so she leaned closer to inspect the problem. As she straightened, rough hands clamped over her mouth.
“You’d do well not to scream. I’ve got orders to bring you back alive, but I won’t be shot in the process. So if you wanna live, keep your mouth shut.”
Carissa’s knees nearly buckled in fear, and she thought she might well faint. She couldn’t have spoken if she’d had to. Shaking from head to toe, she didn’t even fight until after the man had gagged her and tied her hands. As he placed a bag over her head, Carissa seemed to wake up to the reality of what was happening. Giving the man a swift kick, she tried to run, only to have him grab her and throw her over his shoulder.
“You ain’t goin’ nowhere but with me.”
She couldn’t reply, nor could she see anything. The man didn’t seem to care about being gentle. He tossed her across his saddle without any concern for the pain he caused. Carissa moaned as the horn dug into her ribs. The impact nearly knocked the wind from her. She tried to move her arms, but the bag came down too far and much too tight.
The man hit her hard across the backside. “Settle down now or I’ll make you sorry.”
Carissa did as he told her, not knowing what else to do. She was helpless to move, and without the ability to speak, she couldn’t even attempt to reason with the man.
They rode for what seemed like hours. Twice Carissa had felt the contents of her stomach rise into her throat only to swallow it back down. She didn’t know if it was from the ride itself or the stench of the man, but the nausea refused to leave. Pain ripped through her body. She cried out, but the muffled sound didn’t even merit the attention of her captor.
Carissa tried her best to rationalize what was happening. The man who�
�d taken her wasn’t an Indian, but rather a white man. He seemed intent on taking her specifically, saying that she was to be brought back alive. But why? Dread settled over her. Was this man one of Malcolm’s cohorts? Had he come believing she had some treasure of Malcolm’s?
Her mind whirled with questions and images. She could only hope and pray that there weren’t others—that her being taken was an isolated incident and not just one of many other plots against the women on the Barnett ranch. Tears poured from her eyes, dampening the sack around her face.
Oh, Father in heaven, where are you? Help me! Help me, please!
“Where’s Carissa?” Hannah asked her sister.
“She went to the outhouse,” Marty replied, helping Gloria onto a chair. “She said she’d be right here.”
But ten minutes later there was still no sign of Carissa. Hannah shook her head. “This isn’t right. Juanita, you all go ahead and pray so that the children can eat. I’m going to see what’s going on. Maybe Carissa is sick.”
She moved quickly to the back door. “Or maybe something is very wrong,” she muttered. A sense of dark trepidation came over her. “Carissa! Carissa!” she called as she made her way across the yard.
She checked the outhouse but no one was there. Glancing around the yard, she saw nothing that indicated Carissa had been there at all. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Carissa was gone. Hannah quickly searched through the outbuildings. Some of the men were working to break a horse in the far pen, but Berto wasn’t among them. Continuing her search, Hannah found Berto sharpening an axe.
“Have you seen Carissa?” she asked the man.
“No. Why do you ask?”
“She was supposed to join us in the house for lunch. She went to the outhouse, but never came back.”
Berto put down the axe and got up. “I will help you look.”
Hannah nodded, but already she felt certain that Carissa was gone. She didn’t know how or where, but something in her mind warned her it wasn’t going to be to anyone’s liking.
21
I just don’t understand,” Laura said. “Why would anyone take Carissa?”
Hannah shook her head and patted Laura’s hand. She hadn’t wanted to give bad news to Laura, fearing it would cause a setback in her weakened condition.
“I don’t know. I don’t even know if it was Indians.” Hannah forced back tears. “She went to the outhouse and that was the last anyone saw of her. Apparently someone grabbed her while she was out there, but no one saw or heard anything.”
Thunder rumbled. A summer storm moved ever closer and Hannah knew this would only cause them more problems. Berto had found boot prints leading to a single horse. The horse had been led out in a southwesterly direction, but now the rain would obliterate the tracks. She didn’t bother to tell Laura this. It would surely only cause more panic.
Laura looked at Hannah, her eyes wide with fear. “Will they kill her? I mean . . .” She fell silent.
“I don’t know. We have no way of knowing. If it were Comanche or Kiowa, I think they would have raided the entire ranch and burned us out. They had ample opportunity to take the children or any one of us earlier in the day. Berto said he found indications of boot prints, so I don’t think it was Indians. Some wear boots like ours, but not that many. Most prefer their own style of moccasin or nothing at all.” Hannah still held tight to Laura’s hand.
“I’ve sent for the sheriff,” Hannah continued to explain. “I expect him most any time.” At least she hoped he’d be there soon. There was a fair chance that he wasn’t even in Cedar Springs. Pablo had been the one sent to fetch him, and he hadn’t returned yet.
“I feel so helpless,” Laura said. “I’m still so weak and tired, but I want to do something to help.”
Hannah nodded. “I know, but you must rest. Taking care of Lucas is more than enough help. It leaves the rest of us free to do what we can.” She didn’t have the heart to explain that there really wasn’t anything to be done. “And your prayers . . . your prayers are priceless.”
A flash of lightning filled the room with a boom of thunder following seconds later. “That storm is right on top of us,” Hannah said, getting to her feet. “I need to go check on the children. We’ve had the house closed up tight ever since Carissa went missing. Just in case.”
Laura frowned. “In case there’s another attack.”
She said it so matter-of-factly that Hannah knew it wasn’t a question. “We’re doing all we can. Like I said, I honestly don’t know what to think about the situation.”
But she did. In the back of Hannah’s mind she was already wondering if Herbert Lockhart had something to do with Carissa’s disappearance. Maybe he had come and, not being able to get to Hannah, had taken Carissa. Maybe he thought to trade one for the other. A bevy of scenarios played out in her head.
“I’ll keep you informed,” Hannah said, moving toward the door.
“I want to see the sheriff when he comes. Please.”
Hannah nodded. “Of course. I’ll bring him in to see you when he arrives.”
“And, Hannah,” Laura said, fixing her with a stern expression, “no matter what the truth is, I want to know everything. Don’t lie to me about this. It’s much too important.”
“I promise I will tell you everything.”
But even as she left, Hannah felt guilty for not sharing her concerns about Herbert Lockhart. She knew that Carissa had had a rough life in Corpus Christi and that Laura likely presumed some enemies of Carissa’s late husband had followed her to the area. But Hannah seriously doubted this was the case.
She checked on Marty, who was playing with the children in the loft. Gloria came to Hannah, demanding to see her mother.
“I want my mama.”
Hannah lifted the girl in her arms. “I know you do, darlin’, but she had to go away for a little while. You play and be good and when she comes home . . .” Hannah choked on the words and found she couldn’t continue.
Marty came and took Gloria from her older sister. “I wish you’d let me help look for her.”
Hannah shook her head at Marty with a look that demanded her silence. “You are serving a much greater purpose in helping with the children. Pepita will come and relieve you in about an hour, but until then, just keep them busy.”
“Hold me, Mama,” Robert said, hugging his arms around Hannah’s legs. “Pease, Mama.” Then thunder boomed overhead, and Daniel began to cry.
“You need to be brave,” she told her son. His expression indicated that he, too, was close to tears.
Marty deposited Gloria on the rug in front of the building blocks and picked up Daniel. “He doesn’t like storms.”
“None of us do,” Hannah replied. She could only hope that this storm wouldn’t bring any threat of tornadoes. “You children be very good, and I’ll have Pepita bring you cookies and milk in a little bit. Would you like that?”
Gloria clapped, now unconcerned with her missing mother or the storm. “I like cookies.”
Robert nodded. “Me too. I want cookies.”
“Then be a good boy for Marty.”
With that, Hannah returned to the first floor and went to the kitchen. She was instructing Pepita when she realized someone was knocking at the back door. She hoped it was Pablo returning with the sheriff. Hurrying to see, Hannah was glad to see the law official standing there.
“Mrs. Barnett,” he said, tipping his hat. Water dripped onto the floor and it was then that Hannah noticed the rain had begun to fall.
“Please come in.” She stepped aside and motioned him to follow. “I hope that Pablo has filled you in on our situation.”
“He did.” The sheriff took his hat off and brushed water from the felt.
Juanita was busy making tortillas, but she glanced up long enough to offer the sheriff a cup of coffee. He declined, and Hannah led him into the dining room, where she hoped they wouldn’t be overheard by the children.
“Berto and some of the other
s have tried to track whoever took Carissa, but now with the storm, I’m sure that will be of no use to us.”
“Do they have any idea of who might have done this? Pablo said there weren’t any signs of Indians.”
“No, there weren’t. Not that the Comanche always leave their calling cards,” Hannah replied, taking a seat at the table. She motioned the sheriff to do likewise. “But I believe if it were the Comanche, they wouldn’t have stopped with taking just one woman. They would have burned us out—killed us. It makes no sense for them to take one woman.”
The sheriff took a chair and considered her words for a moment. He didn’t get a chance to speak, however, as Hannah continued in a hushed voice.
“What about Herbert Lockhart?”
“What about him?”
Hannah squared her shoulders. “The man wants to see me dead. He isn’t the kind to leave business undone.”
“But Mrs. Lowe had nothing to do with Lockhart.”
“I know, but it’s possible he took Carissa in order to hurt me in some way,” Hannah replied. “I mean, I know what he’s capable of. He could have taken her thinking that it would force us to do whatever he wanted.”
“I suppose that is a possibility, but honestly, no one has seen anything of Lockhart in this area. Like I told you, my last report before the lines went down was that word came of him headin’ for Mexico.”
“I know.”
“Did Mrs. Lowe have any personal problems . . . someone who might have come here with the sole purpose of harming her?”
“Mrs. Lowe had a very bad marriage in Corpus Christi. She was married to a Confederate who plotted against the government. He tried to kill her and her sister.” Hannah’s voice was just a whisper. “He was killed, but I suppose it’s always possible that some of his men might mean her harm. Still, I don’t know why they would.”
“But it is a possibility that we must consider.”
Hannah nodded. “I suppose it is. We could ask her sister, although Mrs. Reid is still quite weak.”
“I think we must talk to her,” the sheriff agreed. “She might have an idea of something that we’ve not yet thought of.”
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