Tin-Stars and Troublemakers Box Set (Four Complete Historical Western Romance Novels in One)

by Rice, Patricia

  When he returned to the cabin, Cade was dressed and checking his rifle. He looked up and asked, "Are you ready to go?"

  The man could barely walk. He had recovered from fever scarcely a week ago. His shoulder wouldn't hold together under the tug of a rein. And he was prepared to ride out without a moment's notice.

  Travis grinned. "Whenever you are."

  They had never formally entered the army and didn't formally discharge themselves now. The wounded Texans Travis had been treating were almost all on their way home. The slaughter that had left over six hundred Mexicans dying in the fields and bayous had killed only nine of the Texans. Most of Travis's patients were Mexican prisoners, and there was little else he could do for them.

  Cade was the one he worried about. His shoulder shattered from the first explosion of the Mexican cannon, Cade had lost enormous amounts of blood before Travis had found him. He had a long way to go before he regained his strength. Travis watched warily as the big man rode uncomfortably in his saddle, driving himself as he always did. How in hell would he keep Cade alive long enough to find Lily?

  And the others. Travis tried not to think about the others. Lily was strong. If anyone could survive, it would be she. But the others... He wouldn't apply names to his concerns, but wounded dark eyes watched him from behind every tree, screaming their hurt and need. He knew all about hurt and need. He knew nothing at all about solving them.

  So he followed Cade, forcing the other man to rest when the May sun got too hot for comfort, feeding him meat as often as they could find it, bandaging and rebandaging his wound when it began to bleed. Cade was Travis's only hope of finding the family he had come to think of as his own. He would do whatever it took to keep the damned Indian alive.

  It wasn't an easy task. Cade pushed himself like a man possessed. They rode through the darkness until he was nearly falling off his horse. Too exhausted to hunt when they stopped for the night, he had to be forced to eat what little Travis could put together. After a night crossing of a spring-cold river, Cade crawled to his horse when Travis refused to help him get up. Cursing, Travis hauled him into the saddle and tied him there so they could ride on.

  It was with great relief that Travis recognized the road they followed. True, the road ultimately ended in San Antonio, but it had to pass by the little homestead where they had all come together. If Lily had gone anywhere of her own accord, it would have been to her own home.

  Cade seemed to have the same thought. His pace quickened as they approached the town. He rode through without stopping. He was slumped over the gelding's neck and holding on with his last strength as he galloped toward the sunset and the little farm snuggled between the pines and the prairies.

  He even refused to give up when the charred ruins of the house came in sight and no flicker of light showed from its remaining windows. Travis leapt down and stood ready as Cade nearly fell from the saddle in his desperation to reach the cabin. The house was silent and dark. No childish laughter winged through the windows. No scents of baking bread drifted from the kitchen. A steer stood munching at weeds in the garden Lily had so carefully cultivated the year before. No one came out to greet them.

  They should have known what to expect after seeing the broken wreckage of the red peddler's wagon, but they entered the dogtrot and began throwing open doors anyway. The charred main cabin, like the wagon, had been ransacked of what few viable goods had remained. Even the sodden baby clothes had disappeared, and every lamp, candlestick, and mug had been removed from the shelves. The heavy, damaged dining table remained, its polished wood warped with the rains and cold.

  Cade stood still in the doorway to the bedroom that had been the source of the only happiness he could remember. The mattress had been gutted by someone looking for hidden wealth. The bed frame and washstand had been used for firewood. The porcelain washbowl and pitcher with their colorful roses and greenery lay shattered on the floor. And Lily's elegant windows had been blasted by a shotgun.

  Cade was a proud man, and a strong one. Nothing in all his life had ever brought him to his knees, but he was on the verge now. Clinging to the door frame, Cade held himself upright by sheer force of will. Lily's cries of passion still haunted these walls. He could almost hear the sound of a flute as he clung to the wood. He had wanted to give her music and happiness. He had wanted to lay the world at her feet. He had wanted...

  He had wanted.

  And this was the result. Everything she had, destroyed. It was a poor return for everything she had given him in those few short months. Cade closed the door and walked away.

  Lily carried his life with her. He knew it as the soul knows the stars are out of reach. If Lily lived, he would survive. If she did not, he was a walking ghost. He could not return to being the man he had once been. He could not live alone again.

  He started for his horse, ignoring Travis's vehement protests.

  Chapter 32

  Travis cursed again as the damned Indian set out across the fields like a man possessed. Nothing he had said or done could convince Cade to remain here for the night and start out in the morning. Travis had half a mind to let the madman go ahead without him and follow the trail of blood come dawn to pick up the remains. If he did, it would be just his luck that Cade would somehow manage to leave him behind, just when they had come to the part of the search where Travis could not begin to look for himself. A handful of women and children could disappear into these vast open spaces and never be seen again.

  So Travis rode as close to Cade's gelding as he could, waiting to catch Cade when he fell. The man was barely hanging on now, clinging to the horse's mane and letting the animal follow some unseen track on its own. Travis prayed that the horse knew where it was going, because he sure as hell didn't.

  They seemed to spend an eternity walking the horses through the pine woods, but the moon was still high in the sky when a clearing opened ahead. Travis could hear the river. At the same time he caught a whiff of wood smoke, and hope surged.

  Lily kept Serena's chubby body curled tightly against her own and prayed as she had prayed every night since Cade's departure. She had been furious with him at first. Then she had felt rejected, as if she were of no account in his life. Cade had never said anything to contradict her fears.

  But then she had begun to remember little things—the kitten in his lap, the flute on her pillow, his pain in setting Roy's leg, the fierce passion of his lovemaking—and she had to wonder if these weren't Cade's way of showing how he felt. A sliver of hope had entered Lily's heart then, and she had nourished it in the days since, hoping to block out the growing fear when there was no sign of Cade even after the battle was won.

  Lily accepted that Cade would return to the hacienda first. There would be some kind of collision with Ricardo, if so. So she had two things to worry about: had Cade survived San Jacinto and would he conquer Ricardo and come out whole?

  Lily refused to think of Cade as anything but whole. He was the solid oak in her life. She might never receive affection or tenderness from him, but he was the support she had come to rely on, however wrongly. Perhaps she could take care of herself, but she didn't want to anymore. She had quit telling herself she didn't need Cade. She needed him more with every passing day, as the child grew larger and more active and became more real. She needed the comfort of Cade's arms, the solidity of his presence, the assurance of his actions, the music of his flute.

  And she needed his love, but she knew better than to ask that. She had known her father's selfish love. She knew she wasn't particularly lovable. She had lived all those years with Jim without love. She could survive—if she just knew that Cade would return. Without him, the future was bleak.

  She didn't know what had happened to her independence. Cade had shot it all to hell somehow. Holding her adopted daughter to her, Lily tried to pretend that Cade would be home soon and they would soon be planting the fields. It was late, but they could still get out a crop. She counted steers in her head, hoping t
o discover sleep in the process.

  Listening to the night, Lily knew the instant the Indian camp changed. In the months since they had arrived here, she had come to appreciate the infinitesimal changes of daily life: the day the first pigeons returned, the planting done under the new moon, the celebration of the first green shoots in the field. It was a peaceful life, and it had healed many of the wounds of these last few months. She was ready to accept whatever changes Cade wished to make.

  But the unexpected call of a nightbird at this hour was a warning. She listened in fear, hearing the sounds of running feet where there had been none before. Someone in the lodge rose. A shadow passed through the doorway, and she was afraid.

  These people were still strangers to her. They had taken her in, given her a bed, allowed her to help in their activities, but she still could barely speak their language and found their customs strange and foreign despite Juanita's reassuring presence. She worried about Roy sleeping with the other young boys on the other side of the lodge. She kept her ears open, terrified of the danger the night could bring.

  A murmur of voices and the sound of horses approached. More shadows rose and walked the floor. This was the lodge of Cade's father. His sons were young enough to still sleep here, but mostly the building contained women and children. Lily was uncertain of all the relationships, but she seemed to be just one more dependent among many. The shadows were definitely male.

  When someone stirred the fire in the lodge's center, Lily gave up any pretense at sleep and unraveled herself from Serena. The child had taken to Indian life with the same joyful innocence as she did everything else. She continued sleeping soundly now as Lily reached for her clothing.

  Lily bit back a scream at the appearance of a large silhouette in the lodge's open doorway, but recognition came swiftly, accompanied by a surge of joy. She was afraid to run to him, afraid he would be angry with her, afraid still that he would reject her newfound and tender feelings.

  Cade stepped inside, and the figure at the fire rose to greet him. It was only then that Lily realized something was wrong, terribly wrong, and her heart leapt to her throat as she left her pallet.

  Lily's movement caused Cade to turn. In the small flickering light of the fire he caught a glimpse of gold, saw the white shadow of her welcoming palm, knew the graceful height of her silhouette, and knew he was complete.

  He toppled slowly, like a mighty oak collapsing into the forest. Lily screamed. Travis leapt out of the darkness to catch him. And other lithe figures inserted themselves between the big man and the ground, lifting him and carrying him to the pallet Lily had just deserted.

  A torch was lit beside the bed. One of the young Indian women carried the still-sleeping Serena away. Bowls of water were brought, and Lily carefully bathed Cade's face as Travis ripped at his shirt to examine the newly opened wound.

  Outside, a drum began to pound, and Lily could hear the stirring of the village to the call. She could feel the concern of the people behind her. One of their own had fallen, and they would intercede with the spirits to protect him.

  "He is fevered," Lily murmured as she bathed Cade's forehead and felt, more than heard, his moan.

  "He was wounded at San Jacinto. He was just recovering when he heard that you had disappeared. He has been obsessed with finding you ever since." Travis swore at the extent of the damage to the injury he had so carefully tended. "How do I tell them to bring me my saddlebag?"

  Lily turned to the tall man hovering in the background. With a few words of Spanish and a gesture of her hands, she made the request clear. The man spoke curt orders, and one of the young boys raced to do his bidding.

  "I need Juanita to teach me how to do that." Travis looked up suddenly, his eyes dark with pain. "She is here?"

  Lily nodded. "We're all fine. Roy has the makings of an excellent guide. I'll let him tell you how he got us here." She smiled to share her appreciation of this jest at a small boy's pride, but Travis's thoughts were elsewhere.

  The bags were brought and Travis re-cleaned the wound, but its festering edges were obvious even to Lily. They exchanged glances in the shadowed light, both aware of the threatening presence of Cade's father nearby. The drums beat steadily now, and the air filled with smoke. In the distance, a man chanted. Cade's life lingered somewhere between heaven and hell, and their own could very well depend on it.

  Lily stroked the strong, angular jut of Cade's cheekbone, then caressed his chin. Cade's eyes opened briefly. She thought she saw recognition in them, but they closed again and she could only draw her own conclusions. Whatever had gone before or would go afterward, he needed her now.

  With a bravery she didn't feel, Lily looked to the waistband of Cade's trousers. He was wearing a stained and stiff pair of buckskins that she would have buried, given a chance, but her hand went unerringly to the place where she knew Cade kept his knife. She slid it out of its leather thong and handed it to Travis.

  He stared at it in horror before accepting the bone handle and examining the width of the blade. Neither of them had to speak to know what had to be done. They had both seen it done before. Neither of them had ever had to do it.

  Lily held her breath as Travis shoved the shining blade into the center of the torch's flame. Lily felt Cade's father approach, and the tension around them rose. She was half afraid of the man and didn't dare seek his comfort, but she wished desperately for a prop to her dwindling resources.

  In the torchlight, Cade's magnificent copper body danced with shadows that accented its muscular planes and ridges. Lily wanted to stroke them, to reassure herself that he lived and breathed, but she contented herself with clinging to his hand. With a word, she ordered one of his brothers to hold the other hand. As if understanding what would happen next, someone else held his feet.

  As Travis laid the flaming knife against the wound, Cade jerked and howled. The stench of burning flesh filled the air, but Travis grimly held the blade in place despite Cade's concerted efforts to fling him off. Only when he was certain that the wound had been sealed against infection did he remove the instrument of torture. The room seemed deathly quiet in the aftermath of Cade's screams.

  "If you have any sense, you'll keep laudanum poured down him until he's healed." Travis slapped the knife down beside the bed and rose. "Where's Juanita?"

  By this time, everyone in the lodge was awake, including the children. A wide-eyed and terrified Roy staggered into Travis's path, and Travis bent and scooped him up as if he were as small as Serena. Lily didn't watch the reunion. Her attention was focused wholly on the unconscious man in the bed.

  Hugging Roy, Travis glanced back at Lily with sadness in his heart and let the last piece of his dream go. She had been a bright part of his adolescence, of his growing up. He was grown now, and as a child surrenders the comforters of his past, Travis surrendered any notions he might still have harbored about the mother of his child. He didn't want to let his son go, but the woman was already lost to him.

  Reassuring Roy and sending him back to his bed, grinning at a sleepy Serena who tumbled to his toes and sat there staring up at him, Travis knew he had found his home. He just needed to set his sights on a different woman, one who thought he was a man to be admired and not the scared young boy he had been. Perhaps in time he could learn to be what she thought he was.

  Travis's determined questioning took him out of one lodge and on to another. He didn't know why Juanita wasn't with Lily. He wasn't in any position to question Indian customs. He only knew that when he got there Juanita was waiting for him outside the doorway, watching him with a wrenching mixture of trepidation, pain, and hope. Travis held out his hand and Juanita took it, and then she was in his arms, and he was shaking with the strain of unleashed emotions.

  It took a moment before he realized that they were surrounded by women, many of them giggling young girls. Lifting his head up, Travis finally understood: Juanita was staying in a lodge that housed all the unmarried females of the tribe. He groaned, and
sought Juanita's eyes.

  Shyness lingered in her gaze as she replied to his unspoken question. "There is nowhere else."

  Travis thought of his destroyed wagon, of the charred cabin and the torn mattress. He hadn't inspected the outbuildings, but it could be expected that they were in the same disarray. Everything he had ever possessed was gone. He looked down at Juanita. She wasn't his, but she could be.

  It was a major step for him to take. He could seduce her with words; he was very good with that. But Travis knew Juanita's background. Lily had explained it succinctly, so even he could understand her fear of men. It didn't bother him that she wasn't innocent. Neither was he. At least she was innocent of wrongdoing—which was more than he could say. So if he couldn’t use seduction, he would have to offer something more permanent, and he didn't know if he had anything.

  Reluctantly, Travis released her. "I've been sleeping on the ground this long. Another night won't hurt."

  * * *

  Legs curled on the ground and head resting on her arm on the pallet where Cade lay, Lily drifted into sleep holding his hand. She was vaguely aware of figures coming and going during the night, of the erratic beat of the drums, and sometime in the dawn, the lilting notes of the flute. She smiled in her sleep and drifted deeper into unconsciousness.

  Cade woke with a clearer head than he had known in days. He knew instantly where he was, and he lay silently identifying the familiar sounds of dogs barking and women chattering. The aromatic smells of roasting venison and boiling porridge drifted through a doorway on a spring breeze. There were the less pleasant smells of untreated sewage and animal offal, but they were the smells of home, and he didn't disparage them.