Teresa Bodwell

by Loving Miranda

  “There’s a great demand in the East for paintings of our mountains and rivers,” Clarisse said. “And they loved the small one he did of the men with the cattle. He can make a fine livin’ without ever leaving Fort Victory.”

  “Miranda!” Ben’s deep voice startled her and she pricked the needle into her finger.

  “Ouch!”

  “Sorry.” Ben knelt next to her chair. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” He pulled her injured finger into his hand and inspected it.

  She drew her hand away. “It’s nothing,” she said, inserting the bleeding finger into her mouth.

  He looked up at her, his dark eyes melting her heart. She pulled herself upright and tried to ignore the heat that spread through her body.

  “I’m just glad I found you before you left town.”

  “What is it?” Miranda caught the concern in his eyes. “Has something happened? Mercy? Pa?”

  “No.” Ben put a hand over hers. “Don’t worry. Your family is fine. I just wanted to make sure you were safe. O’Reilly has been seen near town.”

  Miranda jumped up. “Where is he?” She set the dress she was sewing on the table. “We have to go after—”

  “Calm yourself, love,” Ben said. “We’ve already visited his camp. He’s disappeared. I don’t want you riding alone until we find him.”

  Miranda bit back the retort that came to her lips. Why protect me now when you plan on leaving me?

  The rest of December turned out to be mild. In fact, most of January passed before they had a real heavy snow. Although everyone in town and the surrounding ranches was watching for him, O’Reilly hadn’t been seen again. There were rumors about him everywhere. He’d left for California, Mexico, or back to Kansas. The sheriff was certain O’Reilly and his men had left town and started the rumors in part to cover their trail. It didn’t matter what the sheriff thought, Ben was certain O’Reilly was still close. Her husband didn’t want to let Miranda out of his sight.

  Somehow, she had managed to keep her secret through those weeks. But she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to fool Ben—not while she was living in one room with him and sharing a bed every night. She used her sister for an excuse. It made sense for her to be near her sister as Mercy’s time grew close. And now that the road between their small cabin and the house was often treacherous with ice and snow, Miranda announced she would go stay in the house.

  “You could move in, too,” she said, knowing he wouldn’t.

  “I’m set here. Look at the place. My paints take up the entire room, and I’ve got my lights set so that I can paint no matter the weather or time of day.” He shook his head. “You go, help your sister. I’ll be fine here. I’ll finish another painting, maybe two before I need to go into town for supplies.”

  “Then you’ll come to the house and visit?”

  “I’ll come visit.” He wiped his hands on a rag before stretching his arms around Miranda and pulling her close. “It won’t be long, will it?” He brushed a light kiss on her lips.

  “Mercy’s baby could come any time now, or it could be weeks away.”

  “I will be visiting, then.” He bent to kiss her; this time the kiss went deeper. Soon Miranda was wondering whether she was doing the right thing. It was going to be damned hard sleeping alone in a bed tonight. She hoped Mercy had this baby soon so she could come home where she belonged. Except that Ben wasn’t staying, and this was only a temporary home. It was time for her to get used to the idea of sleeping alone.

  A loud knock at the door startled them out of their kiss. Thad came bursting into the room immediately after the sound of the knock.

  “Jonathan?” He looked around the room and settled on Miranda. “He’d been talking about seeing Aunt Miranda and I hoped . . .”

  “He’s missing?” Ben squeezed Miranda’s hand as he spoke.

  Thad nodded. “We’ve searched the house and the barn. I came straight here, hoping . . .”

  “I’ll saddle my horse and help look,” Ben said.

  “I’m with you, too,” Miranda said.

  “I’d like for you to stay with Mercy,” Thad said. “She’s terribly upset, and you know her. She wants to climb on a horse and head out to look for him. All we need is for her to start laboring on horseback.”

  Miranda smiled thinking of her sister giving birth on the back of a horse. She would do it, too. “I’ll search from here to the house, then.”

  “You’re not going to the house alone,” Ben said. He looked at Thad. “I’ll ride with Miranda as far as the house, then where will you be?”

  “I’ve been thinking where he might have gone,” Thad said.

  “The caves?” Ben asked.

  Thad nodded. “I hate the idea of him going up there, but he is fascinated with those caves.”

  “I’ll look up there. We’ll cover more ground if we split up. Where else would he go?”

  “Might head out to his old house. I think sometimes he figures he might find his . . . father there. I’ll look there.”

  Miranda squeezed Thad’s shoulder. “Don’t fret; we’ll find him.”

  Chapter 20

  Miranda and Ben looked behind every rock and fallen log from the cabin to the house—a good mile. All the while she imagined places Jonathan might go. The boy was curious about everything. He could have tried to follow the creek to see where it ended, or decided to go to town for some candy from the store. The ranch house came into view and Miranda gasped.

  “Mercy! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Miranda couldn’t believe her sister was standing on the roof of the barn. Hell, as big as her belly was, Miranda couldn’t imagine how the woman had managed to get up there.

  “I’m looking for Jonathan.”

  Miranda felt like her stomach had fallen down to her toes as she watched Ben climb the ladder and help Mercy down.

  Miranda couldn’t bear to watch her sister maneuvering over the slanted roof. She knew damn good and well that the weight of the baby could easily make Mercy lose her balance. Lord help her, after her sister made it safely back to the ground, Miranda was going to kill her.

  She hurried to steady the ladder as Ben led her older sister slowly down. When Mercy reached the ground Miranda threw her arms around her. “Have you taken leave of your senses altogether?”

  Her sister’s heart was pounding and a tear streaked down her cheek. “I feel so damned helpless.” She smoothed her hair back with both hands, then pulled Miranda to her again. “Thanks for coming.”

  “Oh, Mercy. Jonathan will be all right, you’ll see. No point in getting yourself killed. Ben and Thad will find him.”

  “Where’s Buck? Or Pa?” Ben asked.

  “Went to town, in case Jonathan decided to go that way. I thought maybe if I came up here, I’d see him.” Mercy choked back a sob. “It’s not like him to up and wander off.” Mercy pressed a hand to her belly and pulled in a deep breath.

  “I don’t know if I should leave you two women alone,” Ben said.

  “Of course you must,” Miranda said. “We’ll be fine here, and you need to look for Jonathan.”

  “Please?” Mercy said.

  Ben looked from his wife to his sister-in-law, then nodded. “Yes, you’re right. I’ll look for him. But you promise me you will both stay in the house.”

  “We can take care of ourselves,” Miranda said.

  “I know you can,” Ben said. “I just can’t help worrying.”

  “Come back quickly, then—with our nephew,” Miranda said.

  She watched Ben mount his horse and ride away, then she turned to Mercy.

  “I’ll get Princess settled, then help with dinner.”

  Mercy rubbed at her belly.

  “You all right?” Miranda asked.

  “Don’t start frettin’ over me. It’s only a little twinge. They pass.”

  “You’re awful close to your time to be prancin’ up and down ladders and promenadin’ on the barn roof.”

  “I k
now it was foolish, but I thought . . .” She chewed on her lip. “I reckon it wasn’t so much a matter of thinking, more feeling like I had to do something.” She rubbed her belly as she looked around. Miranda wondered again whether climbing on the roof had scared her sister more than she let on. “Looks like a storm coming.”

  Miranda looked up at the gray sky, which was rapidly growing darker. It did look like a storm. She shivered thinking of Jonathan out there somewhere alone.

  “I can’t believe he’d run off like this. He didn’t want to take a nap, but I thought he’d finally fallen asleep. When I went to call him to help bring the cows in, he wasn’t in his bed. Then we found his horse gone. I should have kept a closer watch on him.”

  Miranda pulled on Mercy’s arm. “Let’s get inside and have some tea. You’re shivering.”

  “We should be out looking for him.”

  “Mercy Buchanan, I know you don’t have any concern for yourself, but you could spare a thought for your baby. You want him born outside in the snow?”

  “You think it’ll snow?” Mercy looked around.

  “Yes.” Miranda pulled her sister into the house. “Let’s get a fire going and some water heated. When Thad or Ben bring Jonathan back we’ll get him warm and make sure he’s fine before you give him a lickin’ he won’t forget.”

  “I’ve never . . . maybe I should have used a strap on him. But I thought he’d suffered enough at Arthur’s hands.”

  Miranda sat Mercy down and went to fill the kettle. Mercy sat, rubbing a hand over her belly, as Miranda pushed back out the door and marched over to the well. Thad was right to be worried about his wife; Miranda had never seen her so upset.

  She filled the kettle at the well, took it inside, and set it on the stove. Grabbing a bucket, she went outside for more water. If the men were caught in the storm, they’d be awfully cold when they made it back.

  The clouds were gathering in a hurry now, blown along by a sharp wind out of the northeast. The air smelled of snow to come. She pulled her coat tight around her and spilled water from the well into the bucket. Plenty of hot water would be needed when the men brought Jonathan back. Besides, preparing the water gave her something to do.

  She lugged the bucket into the house and filled a pot to set on the stove. Mercy went outside and returned with an armload of wood.

  “I could do that.” Miranda tried to keep her voice light and cheerful.

  Her sister stared at her for a moment. “I need to do something.”

  Miranda nodded, understanding exactly how her sister felt. She was worried, too, and doing something, anything, helped a bit. “Just don’t carry too much at once.”

  The women worked together to bring in more water and build the fire until the whole house was warm.

  “I’ll get some soup started,” Miranda said, finding potatoes and carrots. “Any leavings I can put in it?”

  Mercy hardly paid attention as Miranda searched the kitchen for any food left from dinner that she might add to the soup. Instead, Mercy occupied herself with knitting a blanket for the baby in between pacing to the window to look out for the men.

  “I wonder . . .” Miranda came up behind Mercy and looked out the window. “You don’t suppose Jonathan would head for the shelter in the winter range?”

  “Thad took him there last week. They were stocking wood and checking the roof.” Mercy looked at Miranda. “Surely Thad will look there.”

  “Likely he will,” Miranda said. The sky was nearly black now, though sunset was two hours away. “He might not get there before the storm hits. He was headed in the opposite direction—to the old Lansing place. He thought Jonathan went there sometimes to visit his father.”

  “Thad is Jonathan’s father now, more surely than Arthur ever was.” Mercy touched the glass windowpane. “But Thad’s right, sometimes Jonathan still thinks about Arthur. I suppose that’s only natural.”

  “Of course it is.” Miranda took off her apron and hung it from the peg next to the sink. “I’m going to go look for him.”

  “Would you?” Mercy smiled at her sister. “I’d be so grateful.”

  Miranda nodded. “It won’t take me long to go out to the winter shelter and back. If Jonathan’s there, I’ll bring him home, and if he isn’t, I’ll come right back and let you know.”

  “Thank you.”

  Miranda pulled on her coat and hat and half ran out to the barn. She could be out there and back in an hour or a bit more. The snow would start before then, but that shouldn’t slow her much. She hoped.

  Miranda was barely out of the yard when the snow started. Big wet flakes of snow stuck to Princess’s mane and gathered on Miranda’s shoulders. The coat and layers of clothing she had on would keep her warm and dry, at least until she made it to the shelter where she hoped to find Jonathan.

  Her sister needed to see her son, and Miranda would do her best to bring the boy home tonight, if the storm allowed it. If visibility grew worse and they were forced to wait out the storm in the shelter, at least Jonathan wouldn’t be alone. She lifted a glove to wipe snow from her eyes. It was growing thick already, making it hard to see. She thought of the small life growing inside of her.

  Even if Jonathan wasn’t there, she would stay in the shelter for her own safety, if need be. She remembered the advice she’d given her sister. There was no point in risking the life of one child for that of another, especially when she knew Ben and Thad would do everything in their power to find the boy. One of them would find him, if she didn’t.

  She prayed her sister would have sense enough to stay in the house and take care of herself. Mercy could be stubborn, which sometimes caused her to make foolish decisions. Miranda’s ears and fingers were quite numb by the time the small shelter came into view. It was a dark shadow in the gray void of the falling snow. Princess sensed the approaching shelter and turned toward it, picking up her pace as Miranda bent forward, ducking away from the driving wind that whipped the snow into her face.

  Her heart raced as she noted the smoke coming out of the chimney. She wanted to rush in and warm herself, but she had to be cautious—O’Reilly was still on the loose, after all. And she wasn’t certain little Jonathan could have started a fire on his own. She hoped Thad had found the boy first and brought him here.

  A wave of relief swept over her when she saw Zeus next to Jonathan’s horse, Pegasus. Miranda tethered her own animal next to theirs and moved quickly inside to seek warmth.

  “Hell!” she gasped and ducked back outside, fumbling her heavy Colt with her numb fingers. Before she could retrieve the weapon, two guns were aimed at her head. “Damn!”

  “Tsk,tsk, my dear. Such language. What would your fine husband say?” O’Reilly’s brogue was thick enough to gag her. “Don’t worry about the gun. Jed will retrieve it for you.”

  In case she had any ideas of fighting them, Jed’s rough hands grabbed her and pushed her through the door. Warmth washed over her, but it no longer held the welcome she’d hoped for.

  “Miranda!” Thad’s voice came from the corner of the room. His hands and legs were bound. Jonathan sat huddled behind his father.

  “That ain’t any way to treat a lady, Jed.” O’Reilly seized her and tore her coat off.

  “Keep your hands off her, O’Reilly.” Thad sounded menacing.

  “Or you’ll do what to me?” O’Reilly laughed. Jed and another man Miranda didn’t recognize aimed their guns at Thad. The big man was no threat to them, bound as he was. Miranda also noticed his shirtsleeve was torn and bloody. Thad was injured. That didn’t keep him from kicking in O’Reilly’s direction, which caused the two henchmen to cock their pistols and made O’Reilly laugh again.

  “Don’t shoot, boys,” O’Reilly said. “I want him alive when Mercy gets here.”

  He turned back to Miranda. “Having little sister here is an unexpected bonus.” He turned and covered her mouth with his own. The taste of stale cigar and whiskey made Miranda’s stomach churn. When he shoved his tong
ue into her mouth, she bit down hard.

  “Argh!” O’Reilly shoved her away, holding a hand over his mouth. “Damn you!” He brought the palm of his hand across her face, knocking her back into the wall. Before she could recover her balance, O’Reilly hit her again with the back of his hand, sending her sprawling to the floor. She saw O’Reilly lift a foot to kick her middle and curled herself into a ball to protect her baby. His boot struck her knee, and she felt the pain clear into her belly.

  “Enough, O’Reilly!” Thad shouted. “You want to beat someone, come on, try me. I have only one useful arm at the moment. Untie me and let’s see how brave you are against a man.”

  O’Reilly spun around and kicked at Thad, but the big man kicked his legs up and knocked the Irishman on his ass. O’Reilly pulled his gun back out and cocked it. Miranda closed her eyes, expecting to hear the explosion that would end her brother-in-law’s life. Instead, she heard O’Reilly laugh again.

  “Ver y good, Buchanan.” O’Reilly struggled to his feet where he stood swaying for a full minute, his gun aimed at Thad’s head. “Now, I could kill you quickly. Or maybe I’ll kill the boy here.”

  Thad sat up and Jonathan curled into a ball behind him.

  “Or”—O’Reilly twisted so he was waving the pistol more or less in Miranda’s direction—“I could put a bullet in little sister’s pretty head.”

  Miranda stared into the dangling barrel of O’Reilly’s pistol. She kept her knees drawn up over her belly in case he decided to start kicking again. And she prayed God wouldn’t let O’Reilly pull that trigger.

  A few months ago, she hadn’t cared whether she lived or died. She had been certain that her life made no difference. Everything was different now. Ben needed her, and she wanted to be with him for every moment he’d allow it. And there was the small life that would die with her.

  “Shoot if you like, O’Reilly.” The quaver in her voice betrayed her fear.