by Linda Broday
“I’m sure she caught some mice. She didn’t look skinny. We’ll find you another cat when we get our house built. Would you like that?” After what they’d been through, Tait would make sure the children were happy.
“Can we have a dog too?” Joe pressed.
“Goggy!” Becky clapped, her baby teeth shining.
Tait wiped off her milk mustache and kissed her forehead. Man, it was good to be home. “The sheriff is going to pack up your things and get them out here to us.”
“I hope he remembers my yo-yo and marbles,” Jesse said.
“I’m sure he will.” Tait laid a hand on the boy’s sandy hair. “Sheriff Rains gave your mother and father a nice service, and I went by the cemetery before I headed out to pay respects. When Becky’s a little older, I’ll take you to see their graves.”
Joe sat back in his chair, his face dark. “Do we hafta wait for Becky?”
Their sister crossed her arms and gave them a scowl.
“Yes, we have to wait for her.” Tait wiped his mouth and rose, putting some money on the table. “Let’s get you to bed.”
He carried Becky, and they went over to the hotel. A hundred questions filled Melanie’s eyes. Questions he didn’t have any answers for.
Part of him was still out there in the vast rugged darkness, and he didn’t know if he’d find his way back.
* * *
Melanie lay in bed, waiting for Tait to bathe. She hoped he wouldn’t shave off the scruff along his jaw. That and his hair that was a little too long made him look even more dangerous, more handsome.
Part of her yearned to tell him about the box with Ava’s hair and the tooth, but then her carefully orchestrated ball of wax would unwind. And Tait didn’t appear in any condition to hear more bad news. The mess with McIlroy was hers to resolve.
He had yet to share the rest of his news with her. Clay had frightened her when he came with that dire warning to stay close to the hotel, but he hadn’t told her anything else. And now Tait wore this haunted look in his silver-gray eyes.
At last he returned to the room, and she was happy to see water droplets clinging to the stubble that was still there. Without a word he turned out the lamp, undressed, and slid into bed. A shaft of moonlight came in through the window, giving her something to see by.
“I know you’re tired, Tait, but you said you’d tell me what’s going on. Am I in danger? Clay certainly seemed to think so.”
“You could be.” He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He let out a heavy sigh, and when he spoke, his voice was low and raw. “The bastards tortured my sister.”
The words shot fear through her. “Tortured her?”
He told her what they’d done to Claire. “They left behind certain items that only I would know the meaning of. I’m sure now that they killed her to shake me up. They wanted to hurt me, and going after the ones I love is a surefire way to do that. I don’t care what they do to me. I can take it. But I can’t take making the ones I love suffer.”
“What things did they leave?”
“I’d rather not talk about it. I’m in a real bad place. Good night, Melanie.”
Frustration wound through her. She hadn’t had a chance to ask him any of her other questions—about whether he’d been married before, the bloody shawl, any of it. This new coldness in him scared her and put a chasm between them.
He lay there, a thousand miles away. Just staring up, not moving a muscle. Eyes unblinking.
Whoever had killed his sister had best run, far and fast. No one had to tell her what would happen to them otherwise. Hurt and filled with rage, Tait would be like a wounded animal that knew only one reaction—to strike back.
The results could be deadly.
When she thought her heart would break for him, he reached for her hand, and her fear settled.
* * *
Melanie awoke the next morning to an empty bed. Maybe Tait had waited until she’d drifted off and gone out again.
She drew his pillow to her face and inhaled his scent of wild sage, leather, and all man.
Her soul heavy, she dressed and left the bedroom. The sitting area was also empty. Sounds of the children stirring reached her, and she went to get them dressed.
“Where’s Uncle Tait?” Jesse asked.
Not wanting to divulge that she didn’t know, Melanie took a stab. “He had to go out early. I think Jack needed him.”
“Will he eat breakfast with us?”
“Sure. He’ll meet us over there.” Melanie prayed he didn’t make a liar out of her, but she didn’t see him anywhere as they made their way to the café.
They were halfway through their meal when he strode into the eatery, his bootheels striking the wooden floor, his heavy gun hanging from his side.
Bags under his eyes told the story. Melanie wanted to wrap her arms around him and tell him—what exactly? That she had a secret? That she knew more about what drove him than he knew? That she had to have the money he’d stolen before she could be a faithful wife?
Hellfire! Speak of any part of her treachery and she’d add more to the heavy burden he already carried.
“Sorry I’m late.” After greeting the kids, he met her gaze. “I was figuring up how much lumber we’d need for that house I promised you, and I lost track of time. I need to get it ordered so we can begin building.”
It shouldn’t have made her so happy to hear that he was moving ahead with the house plans despite everything else weighing on him. Yet it showed he valued her, cared about her happiness. That meant more than he’d ever, ever know.
“Do you want to do this now with everything going on?” Melanie wiped Becky’s mouth with a napkin.
“No, but it has to be done. You’re probably wanting to have your own things around you and a kitchen where you can cook. Eating here will get old. I want to do the right thing by you.”
Guilt rose and Melanie swallowed hard. Then the boys started telling Tait all about their circus and asking his advice about a dozen different problems they were trying to work out. After that, Becky had to have equal time, laughing and patting his arm.
Frustration bit into Melanie. Any further questions she had for him were going to have to wait.
* * *
Over the next week, Melanie mostly slept alone. When Tait was in the bed, he did nothing but lie there, staring up at the ceiling, not saying a word. Not touching her. Was this cold distance going to define their marriage?
After one such night, she rose in the wee hours of morning before the children awoke, dressed, and went looking for him. She found him guarding the entrance to the town.
“What are you doing here? Is something wrong?” He stared at her with haunted eyes. “Are the children all right?”
“They’re fine.” Melanie drew her shawl tight around her shoulders. “We have to talk.”
“About?”
“You and me. You’ve hardly said two words to me since you’ve been back, and when you do come to our bed, you don’t speak or act like I’m there.”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“You came back from your sister’s a different man. You don’t touch me. Tait, we still haven’t been together as husband and wife. Is it me? Don’t you want me?”
Tait brushed her cheek with a knuckle. “No, it’s not you. Like I said, I’m in a bad place and not fit company right now. Being at Claire and John’s house made everything real. Each time I close my eyes, I see how Claire must’ve looked after they finished with her. I hear her pleading with them to stop or begging with them not to hurt her children. No one had more love than Claire. She was special.”
“When are you leaving next?”
“Truth to tell, I’m not sure.” Tait sighed and looked up at the stars. “If I knew where Kern Berringer was hiding out, I’d have left already. The man’s
like a phantom. Hondo—the sheriff of Flat Rock—is searching for him, and Jack sends out telegrams every day to different towns asking for information.”
The moon ducked behind a cloud, and Tait’s face was hidden in the darkness. She couldn’t make out his expression, but it was probably stone cold, his eyes as hard as his words.
“What are you thinking? Why can’t you find him?”
“He’s protected by railroad officials. He could be anywhere up and down the line. It would be like looking for one sweet pea in a whole pot full of green beans.”
“So, you’re just waiting.”
“My gut says he’s coming here. He’ll have to because I have no one else left for him to hurt me with.”
No one but her and the kids. Melanie shivered. “Describe the despicable man so I can spot him.”
Tait was silent so long she almost gave up on him answering. Finally, he spoke, his low voice bathed in loathing. “Easiest way to know him is that he’s hairless. No eyebrows, no hair on his head, no facial hair. Not one speck. He shaves new growth off every morning. Forties and shorter than me.” A smile curved his mouth. After a long pause, he added, “Walks with a limp.”
“He’ll sure stand out. Why am I sensing you know something about the limp?”
The smile vanished, and Tait’s voice hardened. “I gave it to him.”
A chill raced through Melanie and knotted her insides. Her husband had a dark side, to be sure, one that made people who crossed him very sorry indeed. Oh, God! Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad if she confessed what she’d come for—before he found out.
Grasshoppers, cicadas, and frogs filled the air with racket. Melanie knew she had to go back to the hotel soon, but she loved being there with Tait. For some reason, it was easier to talk to him out in the open like this. He tended to close up when he was around people, and walls seemed to choke him.
A small voice in her head whispered, Be honest. Tell him about the deal with Judge McIlroy and your sister’s plight. Maybe he’ll help instead of being angry. It was worth a try.
“Tait, can we talk? I have a confession.”
“Always feel free, Mellie.” A smile was in his words, and she imagined he wore a crooked grin. “You know, I like Becky’s way of saying your name.”
“I confess that I’ve never cared for nicknames. Not just for me, but in general.”
“That’s not the confession that you wanted to make though. What do you want to talk about?”
Her stomach knotted. “Will you promise to try to understand?”
The moon emerged from the clouds, and the soft moonlight showed a wary expression lining what she could see of his face. His jutting jaw and rigid body said he was bracing himself. He pushed his hat back from his forehead, and her courage fled. His brooding expression coupled with his reputation did nothing to calm her nerves.
His quicksilver eyes narrowed. “What have you done, Melanie?”
Thirteen
Melanie moved a step back, her gaze locked on Tait’s icy stare. She shivered in the moonlight that bathed the outlaw she’d married. Why had she thought she could escape his wrath?
This would end badly for her. For both of them.
“What have you done, Melanie?” he repeated. “I think you’d best tell me.”
“Well, I don’t know where to start.” She licked her dry lips.
“At the beginning.”
She gave him a weak smile and a false laugh. “You know, this can wait. We don’t have to discuss it now. There will be a lot of better times.”
How could she tell him when he was already getting upset? The best thing to do would be to keep quiet, keep looking for the money, and take it to Judge McIlroy as soon as she found it. She’d tell McIlroy that Tait rode out one dark night and she didn’t know where he’d gone. Yes, that was a better plan.
Only Tait was looking at her with that piercing stare that made her want to crawl into a hole.
“Now is fine,” he insisted.
Footsteps crunched on the ground behind her. A man spoke. “Trinity, Jack and Clay need a word right away. They’re waiting for you at the corrals.”
Melanie turned enough to see the speaker, the black-clad outlaw named Ridge Steele. They’d only met briefly, but she liked the man. He wore twin Colts that had apparently been well used. An ex-preacher, she’d been told, who’d long given up the pulpit.
“Be right there.” Tait released a low curse. “We’ll talk later, and I want the truth. Whatever you did isn’t the end of the world, but I need to know. Don’t keep secrets from me.”
She raised her chin a trifle. “Or you from me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just what I said. I think you left something out when we spoke before about our pasts. Maybe I’m not the first Mrs. Trinity.”
A threatening rumble rose from Tait’s mouth, and she was glad for an audience.
Ridge Steele shifted uncomfortably. “They’re waiting, Trinity. It’s important.”
Travis Lassiter emerged from the dark gloom. “I’ll take over guard duty.”
Without another word, Tait whirled and strode away with Ridge. Melanie released the breath she’d been holding. Her gaze followed her husband, admiring his figure. Lord, would he be mad when he learned she was after the money he’d stolen. Worse than mad. Enraged.
If she could ever find it. That had to come first.
She returned to the hotel, wracking her brain. Where had he hidden it? Her gaze scanned the dark landscape and the million hiding places it offered. Unless she followed him to his loot, she’d never find it. She blew out an exasperated sigh.
This called for a plan that would make him go after it. That, or else confide in him like she’d started to.
That thought again sent panic racing through her. Even though she knew he would never lay a hand on her, sometimes the ice in Tait Trinity’s eyes struck fear in her heart.
* * *
Tait pondered Melanie’s words all the way to the corrals. Her conscience was clearly bothering her, and she’d done something he probably wouldn’t like. Had she made some decision about the children without consulting him?
Or maybe she’d decided to leave town.
His heart twisted. Hell, he wouldn’t blame her. He hadn’t paid her much attention, and as she’d pointed out, they still hadn’t consummated their marriage.
How in God’s name had she found out about Lucy?
No one in town except Jack knew about her, not even the other men’s wives.
“Did you say something, Trinity?” Ridge asked, matching Tait’s long stride.
“Nope.” Hell! Had he been mumbling under his breath like some decrepit old man?
Jack and Clay had horses saddled at the corrals by the time Tait and Ridge got there. “What’s up?”
Jack thrust the reins of Tait’s blue roan at him. “Shaughnessy pounded on my door no more than thirty minutes ago and handed me a telegram from Hondo. He heard from a reliable source that Kern Berringer and his boys are camped at the Washita River and wants our help bringing them in.”
Excitement buzzed along Tait’s veins. “How sure is he about this?”
“Pretty darn sure.” Clay stuck his foot in the stirrup. “Ridge, keep an eye on things around here. Especially the riffraff.”
“I’ll try my best,” Ridge promised. “I don’t know if getting a stage line out this way was a blessing or a curse. More bad seeds are coming in that way than by horse. Sure keeps a man busy.”
“Gives us something to do.” Tait swung into the saddle. “Will you tell Melanie I had to leave and keep an eye on her and the kids?”
Ridge scowled. “Yeah, I reckon, but I don’t want her trying to pick a fight with me. It looked like she was about ready to slug you a minute ago. She’s not what I call a meek woman.”
Tait chuckled. “Hell, she scares the piss out of me too, Ridge.”
She was a bit too direct, but she was the kind of woman Tait needed, one who would call him out on things, however uncomfortable. Like him keeping the story of his first wife hidden. He wished he knew how she’d found out.
“We should be back by sundown.” Jack glanced at Clay and Tait. “Let’s ride.”
They galloped from the town and picked their way across the landscape. This area was riddled with gullies and ravines, and one misstep could land them at the bottom with a broken limb—or neck.
Tait thought about Melanie. He’d have to tell her about Lucy when he returned. Dammit, there was no way around it. It wasn’t a secret as such. He just didn’t want to pry the lid off that can of worms. The pain—his guilt for not protecting her—was all too raw to poke around in for long.
They rode at a steady pace and reached the Washita River a little after sunup. Hondo and two of his men joined up with them.
“We’ll have to spread out and find their camp.” Hondo pointed to Tait. “You, Jack, and Colby go west. Me and my men will head east. Don’t spook them.”
A muscle worked in Tait’s jaw. “It’ll take too long for you to get into place. If I see the murdering bastards, I’m going to open fire.”
“Dammit!” Hondo spat in the dirt. “Jack, Tait’s your responsibility. We’ll come running if we hear shots.”
They split up, and Tait rode downriver next to his partners, scanning the banks. The water was swift and muffled the sound of movements.
A splash quickly followed by three more alerted Tait.
“Someone’s shooting at us!” He spurred his roan out of range, leapt off, and hurried back through the tall grass that grew on both sides of the river with Jack and Clay beside him.
More shots rang out as they neared the spot of the previous barrage. Tait got low to the ground, scouring the brush and trees. When orange flame burst into the darkness from a barrel, he fired.
Someone yelled, letting Tait know he’d gotten at least one hit.
“Good work, Tait.” Jack rose and took off running in a zigzag line toward the ones in hiding, drawing fire.