Tracie Peterson - [Land of the Lone Star 03]

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Tracie Peterson - [Land of the Lone Star 03] Page 25

by Taming the Wind


  “Good to meet you, Sage. I feared I might not see another human bein’ again.”

  He watched as the man carefully tucked the revolver in his waistband. It wasn’t the brightest move, but Tyler wasn’t going to worry overmuch about it. The hammer on his pistol had been rigged in such a way that it could pull back easily. With any luck at all, the man would shoot himself in the groin before everything was said and done.

  A gunshot suddenly rang out, and Sage seemed to forget about Tyler and took off at a run. He ducked and dodged his way through scraggly brush, and when he’d rounded a large outcropping of rock, Sage stopped so quickly Tyler very nearly ran into the back of him.

  Seeing William standing ahead with a wounded man on the ground, Tyler did the only thing he could. He threw himself at Sage’s back. He wrestled the smaller man to the ground rather easily and managed to get his hand on the grip of his revolver. Pulling the gun from Sage’s waistband, Tyler quickly drew it to the man’s head and demanded his cooperation.

  “Unless you wanna be shot like your friend, you’ll do what I tell you to.”

  The man nodded and went limp. Tyler steadied himself. “Throw your gun over there.” He pointed across the camp and waited while Sage gave the pistol a heft. “Good. Now get on your knees.”

  “You ain’t gonna kill us, are you, Atherton?”

  “That’s gonna depend on you. We’re here for Carissa Lowe. We’ve got Carter tied up below and now we have you and your friend. We know there are only another couple of men, and Herbert Lockhart is one of them. You wanna fill us in on who’s left?”

  “Just the Indian. Long Knife. He’s been watching Lockhart’s back and keepin’ track of the trail to the cabin.” Sage seemed more than happy to relay anything he knew.

  “And what of Mrs. Lowe?”

  “She’s in the cabin. She ain’t hurt or nothin’. Lockhart tied her to a bed so she wouldn’t be able to run away, but otherwise she’s fine. He wouldn’t let no one put a hand on her.”

  “That’s good,” Tyler said, narrowing his eyes. “Where is this cabin?”

  “Just up a ways. You go back down on this side,” he said, motioning his head toward the road. “Go along that way into the wash and up and around the bend. There’s a clearing. It ain’t much, but there’s room on the rock where someone put up a shelter. That’s where she is.”

  Tyler looked to William and then back to Sage. “Who’s that on the ground over there?”

  “Roy. He and I been partners for a long time. Is he . . . is he dead?”

  “He’s not dead . . . not yet,” William told the man. “He’s shot in the hip and bleedin’ out, so unless you want to end up just like him, you’ll give us every detail of what awaits in that canyon.”

  “I’ll help you, mister. Honest. I don’t wanna die.”

  It was nearly midnight before the sheriff and his men caught up with William and Tyler. The deputies took over the care of Carter, as well as Sage, but it was too late for Roy.

  “We’ll take him in for proper identification,” the sheriff told them. “I’m pretty sure we have a poster on him. I know there’s one for Carter. Maybe for that other one, too. For now, though, we’ll leave ’em here and go after Mrs. Lowe. You and Tyler can wait here and keep an eye on them.”

  “We’re going in,” William told the sheriff. “Carissa is important to both Tyler and me. Reggie and Dave can wait with Carter and Sage. After all, this really isn’t their fight.”

  “Well, if it’s all the same,” Sidley said, stepping up, “I plan to go with you and Tyler. I like Mrs. Lowe and wanna make sure I do what I can to help get her back safely.”

  “It’s still a matter for the law,” the sheriff said. “If there’s trouble, you’d best let me and my boys deal with it.”

  “We’ll do our best,” Tyler said, mounting his horse. “But I’ve never been all that good at waitin’. If you don’t mind, I reckon we’ve done enough of that.”

  William nodded. “I agree. Let’s see this thing through.”

  The men rode into the dry wash as far as they felt they could without being seen. When they dismounted and tied off their horses, Tyler was more than a little apprehensive. It was difficult to see anything very well. The moon was only about half full, and the indention of the ravine further distorted the light. He’d dealt with similar situations in the war, and those feelings came back to haunt him now. He could imagine himself back in the middle of battle—waiting and watching for the enemy.

  They traveled the last half mile on foot, slipping in and out of the rocks much like a lizard might. When they noticed the light coming from the cabin window, the sheriff motioned them to come together.

  “Looks like they’re either stayin’ up late waitin’ for the money, or they’re on to us. My boys will go around to the back and sides,” the sheriff told them. “That will leave the rest of us to take the front. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.”

  They moved out with the utmost care. To give themselves away at this point would only increase the risk to Carissa’s life. Tyler prayed as they crept ever closer to the cabin.

  Circling the cabin took only a moment. It was a small building, hardly big enough for one person. With no indication that anyone was aware of their lurking, the sheriff moved right up to the door. He gave a nod to William and Tyler, then kicked in the door. They rushed into the cabin, guns drawn.

  Tyler could see that there was no one in the room. The crude table and chairs sat empty, save a single lamp that had been lit and placed in the center of the table. On the far side, William and the sheriff were already exploring the kitchen area where a small stove sat cold and unwelcoming.

  Then Tyler’s glance went to the other side of the room where a small single bed had been positioned against the wall. At first he thought it was empty, but stepping closer, he could see that someone was shackled to the frame.

  “Carissa,” he whispered and knelt by the bed. “She’s over here,” he called over his shoulder to William and the others.

  The sheriff and William crossed the room to join him. Tyler pulled back a cover and revealed Carissa’s small frame. She was deathly still and he feared the worst.

  “I’ll go back and get the horses,” Sidley told Tyler and quickly left the cabin.

  “Is she breathing?” the sheriff asked.

  Tyler put his hand to her lips. “Barely. Carissa?”

  She made an attempt to open her eyes. A hint of a smile touched her lips and was gone. “She’s alive,” Tyler said. He looked to William. “Help me get her out of this shackle.”

  “Well, to do that you would benefit from the key,” a voice called from the doorway.

  Lockhart stood just inside the room with a tall Indian behind him. He held up a key and grinned. Tyler wanted to rush the man and beat him to death. Seeing Carissa so sick and helpless brought his rage to the surface. He started to get up, but the sheriff held him fast.

  “Stay here.” He moved in front of Tyler and William. “Lockhart, you know why we’ve come. You’re both under arrest.”

  Lockhart laughed and raised his gun. “I’d say you would be hard-pressed to arrest me at this point. Long Knife just killed your deputies. Slit their throats and never made a sound—unlike you and your men who made enough noise to warn us well in advance.” He stepped to one side to let Long Knife move into the room. The Indian filled the doorway.

  Lockhart looked past the sheriff to William. “I don’t know what you’ve done with my other men, but it’s immaterial. I want my money.” He paused and his expression turned purely evil. “And I want you dead. All of you. Long Knife, take their weapons.”

  The Indian had only moved a fraction of an inch, however, when a rifle shot rang out. Long Knife looked stunned, then dropped his knife to grab his chest. He slumped to the floor, blood spurting out from the gaping hole.

  The sheriff grabbed the opportunity to pull his own weapon, and when Lockhart turned with his revolver, the sheriff fired a single
bullet, hitting Lockhart between the eyes. As he fell to the floor, Sidley came to the door with his rifle leveled for action.

  “We’ve got them, thanks to you,” the sheriff said, looking at Sidley. He blew out a heavy breath and shook his head. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go see to my men.”

  “Let me help you,” Sidley told him. He grabbed a lantern that sat beside the door and lit it from the lamp on the table.

  Tyler turned his attention back to Carissa. Her eyes were open, and she watched him as if trying to decide if he were real. Her lips were cracked and dry, and her face was so pale he feared she’d never make the ride home.

  “Carissa, don’t you die on me,” he admonished. “I intend to make you my wife.”

  William came with the key and unfastened the cuff from Carissa’s wrist. Tyler immediately pulled her into his arms.

  “Do you hear me, Carissa Lowe? Don’t you think you can get out of marryin’ me. I won’t stand for you dying now.” He brushed back strands of the shortened blond hair.

  “Give her some water,” William said, handing him a canteen.

  Tyler held her against him and brought the water to her lips. “You need to drink this,” he commanded.

  Carissa took in a small bit of the water and nodded a tiny weak nod. Tyler continued to help her to drink, fearful that they were too late to do any good.

  “She’s not going to be able to travel tonight,” William said. “I’ll get a fire going and find some food.”

  Tyler said nothing. He was far too concerned with the woman in his arms. He didn’t care what it took or how long, but he would not let her die.

  Carissa thought nothing had ever felt so good as the feel of cold water sliding down her dry, gritty throat. She wondered if she was dreaming . . . only this time when she opened her eyes, Tyler was still there and the water was still just as sweet.

  It seemed an eternity before she could speak. She saw the worry in Tyler’s eyes and wanted only to reassure him that she was strong enough to make it through.

  “I . . . I’m . . . fine,” she whispered.

  Tyler looked at her strangely for a moment. “Yeah, I can see that.”

  She smiled and nodded. “Good.”

  She faded back to sleep, but not before she heard him whisper in her ear. “I love you, Carissa. I love you.”

  When next she woke, the aroma of food made Carissa feel something akin to nausea. She hadn’t eaten in so long that her stomach was wont to cramp and churn rather than take on food. Even so, when Tyler came to sit beside her and spoon-fed her a gruel of grits and honey, Carissa tried her best to keep it down.

  Carissa had no idea how long Tyler and William had been there. She slept off and on, never quite strong enough to fight the grip of exhaustion, but when she finally felt her senses returning and her head clear a bit, she noticed that Tyler was in desperate need of a shave. He dozed beside her bed, seated on the floor with his head resting on the mattress. Reaching out, Carissa touched his face. He immediately woke.

  “You need a shave,” she murmured.

  He grinned. “And you need a bath.”

  She nodded. “I’ve needed one for about a month now. At least it feels that long.”

  “Well, it hasn’t been quite that long, but it might well be by the time we get back to the ranch. How are you feeling?”

  “Better,” she admitted. “Guess it didn’t do me much good to learn to shoot.”

  He laughed. “You have to have a gun in order to shoot. Not a lot of ladies carry them to the outhouse.”

  Her cheeks grew hot in embarrassment. “So you heard about that.”

  Tyler nodded. “Of course. I demanded every detail. I was going to need to know it all in order to find you.”

  “I remember so little these last few days. How did you find me?”

  “It’s a long story,” he said. “And I’d much rather talk about other things.”

  She looked at him in curiosity. “Such as?”

  “Such as you and me gettin’ married. I realize that it might seem like I’m rushin’ things a bit, but frankly, I’m learnin’ from my mistakes. Seems to me when the moment presents itself, a fella ought to take advantage of it.”

  Carissa searched his face and found such compelling love and devotion in his expression that she wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. Then a thought came to her and she frowned. “You might not want to marry me when you hear what I did.”

  He surprised her by roaring with laughter. “Good grief, woman. You nearly got yourself killed—isn’t that enough?”

  “I bought your ranch,” she said hesitantly. “I bought it for you . . . for us.”

  “I know.” He grinned.

  “And you aren’t mad at me?”

  He shook his head. “You’re still delirious. Go back to sleep. When you get strong enough, we’ll discuss when you want to get hitched.”

  Carissa closed her eyes and smiled. “The sooner the better.”

  28

  We are here this glorious October day to celebrate the marriage of Tyler and Carissa,” the pastor said as the clock in the hall struck eleven.

  He smiled at the small gathering of well-wishers, then looked directly at Carissa. “Joining two people together to make one is like trying to tame the wind. Focusing on the wrong thing can be useless and even destructive. So rather than trying to tame what cannot be tamed, look to God to teach you how to use the wind—or in this case, the marriage—to benefit you both.”

  He looked to Tyler, and his expression seemed to grow rather stern. “Marriage isn’t always easy, and you two will have to work hard to keep from letting Satan defeat you.”

  Carissa heard an “Amen” from Marietta Terry and smiled. She glanced down at the simple but beautiful dress of white Indian muslin over yellow cotton. It was nothing like the fashionable gown she’d worn to marry Malcolm Lowe, but she loved this dress far more.

  The pastor continued. “Satan wants to strike at the very heart of what God has made holy. If he can destroy marriages and families, Satan knows that it will weaken the faith of man. So I’m telling you both here and now that you need to follow some very simple rules. First, the ‘nevers’:

  “Never let the sun go down on your anger. In other words, clear the slate before you go to sleep at night. If you hold a grudge, work it out. No matter how hard.”

  Carissa looked up at Tyler and smiled. No doubt they would have their share of arguments. Tyler winked as if reading her mind.

  The pastor continued. “Never say anything you don’t mean. It’s easy to let your mouth spew all sorts of ugly words, but you can never take those back, whether you mean them or not.

  “And lastly, never give up on each other. It’s easy to grow weary in life and lose sight of what brought you together in the first place. Giving up will seem reasonable at times, but hold fast. Never give up—your love is worth fighting for.”

  Carissa wished she’d had such advice prior to marrying Malcolm Lowe. She smiled to herself, however, knowing she probably wouldn’t have listened.

  “Now for the ‘always’ side of things,” the pastor said with a broad smile.

  “Always bear one another’s burdens and work together. Like two horses in a harness, if you each try to go your own way you won’t get anywhere. Likewise, it’s easier to carry a load with two sharing the weight.

  “Always treat each other with the same amount of patience, mercy, and tenderness that you want for yourself. If you wouldn’t appreciate being treated a certain way, then don’t treat your mate that way.

  “And last, always—always—look to God for direction and hope. God is love, and therefore no marriage can survive for long without Him. For true love, love that lasts forever, is born in Him. It’s nurtured in God’s love, and it’s there that love grows strong enough to weather the storms of life. Always love.”

  Carissa brushed away a tear and pushed back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. She recited her marriag
e vows and felt a sense of wonder as Tyler slipped the ring on her finger. She found it almost too much to believe. After being sure she would never love again, Carissa had fallen in love and married a man unlike any she had ever known.

  “You may kiss your bride,” the pastor announced, and before Carissa could even react, Tyler had turned her in his arms. He gently tilted her chin up and covered her mouth with his. The kiss was tender yet searing. It was the perfect way to seal their vows.

  They turned toward the small group of people, each one dear to Carissa. Even Hannah, who’d given birth to a beautiful baby daughter only the week before, put aside the doctor’s wishes that she remain abed and had insisted William allow her to attend the ceremony. For this reason Tyler and Carissa decided to hold the wedding at the Barnett ranch, and William finally gave in. He struck a deal that Hannah could quietly sit and watch the wedding, but could not remain for the reception. She smiled from her seat, with Marty and Andy on one side and Robert and William on the other. Baby Sarah slept peacefully in her arms.

  Juanita and her family were there, along with Tyler’s men and the Terrys. Laura and Brandon sat with their children, and Carissa couldn’t help but remember how Laura had cautioned her against her marriage to Malcolm Lowe. She was more than happy now to see Carissa marry Tyler.

  But perhaps most important to Carissa was the presence of her mother and father. She hadn’t always felt that close to either one. Her desire for independence and to control her own life had damaged their relationship, but nearly dying had given her a great desire to mend the gulf between them. She had waited the extra month to wed just so her parents could be present. Turning to face them now, she noted that her mother was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief, but joy radiated in her smile as she gazed at her daughter and new son-in-law.

  Gloria took that moment to jump from her grandfather’s lap. She came flying toward the newly married couple and wrapped her chubby arms around Tyler’s legs. Carissa had spent considerable time prior to the nuptials explaining the wedding to Gloria and telling her how Tyler would now be a part of their family. Gloria made it quite clear that she understood.

 

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