Homespun Hearts

by Caroline Fyffe

  “From what I’ve learned, there is some question over how Samuel Brown, her husband, died,” Brandon explained softly. “There’s a possibility she killed him.”

  “Impossible.” Luke’s heart slammed in his chest. This wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

  “Not so,” Brandon argued. “They had a troubled marriage. It was assumed that maybe he beat on her on occasion, when he’d had too much to drink. But, from what I gather, a real investigation hasn’t happened. For whatever reason, I’m not sure. It’s more rumor and speculation from certain individuals.”

  Despair for Faith’s circumstance washed over Luke. He couldn’t stop himself from looking over at her as she laughed with his two sisters-in-law. He was mad at her, and she was as stubborn as a mule, but there was no way she could kill a man and not have it eating her alive.

  But, what if the man were beating Colton? He’d seen her protectiveness over the boy. Would she be capable then?

  “I have a few more leads I still have to investigate,” Brandon admitted, interrupting Luke’s thoughts. “Marshal from China Gap is heading that direction this week. He owes me.”

  Hell! Should he call off the investigation? If she had killed Samuel and was on the run, did he want to inform the law where she was? They wouldn’t just let her off scot-free. Females were prosecuted under the law same as a man. He’d never considered that she’d done something like this, if indeed she had.

  “Call off the marshal,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I said to call him off. I’ll go myself and investigate.”

  Luke’s friend gave him a long, hard look, and then gazed around the family gathering. He shook his head. “Not advisable, Luke. You could be getting yourself into a lot of trouble. Aiding and abetting is a serious crime.”

  Luke jammed his hand through his hair. Frustration vibrated through him. “Dammit, Brandon, look at her. You tell me she killed her husband.”

  At that moment, Dawn began to cry. Excusing herself, Faith ascended the stairs with the infant in her arms. At the top she paused and, for a brief moment, looked back down. Luke saw the questions in her eyes. She turned the corner and was out of sight.

  “We’ve been through a lot together, Luke. I don’t want to see you makin’ the biggest mistake of your life. You know better than anyone else I can’t look the other way if a crime has been committed. Especially murder. Not for you, not for any of the McCutcheons, or anyone else.”

  Even though it angered him, Luke knew his friend was right. “How long do I have?”

  “A week.”

  “Fine. But wire the marshal and call him off. Tell him you’re sending someone else, that you’ll let him know if he’s needed. Just make darn sure he knows that you’ll be handling this yourself. And we will handle it. I promise you.”

  Brandon shook his head. “I hope she’s worth it, Luke. I really do.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  For the hundredth time, Luke went over the facts that Brandon had delivered. Each time he did, the same feeling of sick helplessness consumed him. Leaning back against the corral post, he looked at the night sky. The vault of the heavens enveloped him, all-consuming, and the sight that usually filled him with wonder now only turned his insides cold and black.

  Was it possible that Faith really did love him but with so much at stake was afraid to trust him or let her feelings show? Yesterday, lying in the grass, she’d shown her desire, and he believed she’d meant it. But, what if she were guilty? What if she had killed Samuel and skedaddled out of town before anyone found out? What then?

  He’d cross that bridge when he got there. If he did. He still felt that this was one hell of a mix-up and that she was what she said she was: a woman on her own, out to start fresh, not wanting or needing a husband.

  Not wanting or needing him.

  “Luke?”

  He turned at the sound of his mother’s voice. She was making her way toward him in her night wrapper, her hair unbound. She was still a very beautiful woman, with her petite size and ageless skin. But it was her gentleness, her goodness that made her the special woman that she was.

  As she got closer, he could see the question in her eyes.

  “What is it, Ma? What brings you outside this time of night?”

  “You do. I got up to get a glass of water and noticed your door ajar. I wondered where you’d gone off to.”

  “I just needed a little fresh air is all.”

  She smiled that smile he remembered well from his childhood and stroked his cheek, letting her hand linger. “Such pain in your eyes, Luke. What is it?”

  “Just something I have to work out on my own.” His voice was hoarse, his throat tight.

  His mother surprised him by climbing up on the corral rail and sitting down. She had to go slowly so she wouldn’t catch her wrapper under her feet and fall. Luke chuckled and climbed up next to her.

  “You comfortable?” he asked.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve sat up here. I used to love to watch Flood as he rode the wild mustangs.”

  “You should have seen me the other day,” Luke said, shaking his head. “I let a mediocre ringtail throw me into the dust.”

  “I was going to come out when I heard the commotion and cheering, but then I noticed that you already had yourself an audience.”

  Luke gazed at the dark sky, remembering. Had it been only a week ago? “I reckon I did.”

  “She’s a lovely girl,” his mother said softly. “I watched as she ran out when she believed you’d been hurt. Even that angry horse wasn’t going to stop her.” Her laughter sounded like bells. “Really, Luke. You should be ashamed for scaring her.”

  Luke smiled at the memory. Then he looked at his mother’s profile as she gazed out over the tall pine trees, toward the mountains. “How did you know I wasn’t really hurt?”

  “Flood used to pull that trick on me all the time. Whenever he was feeling that you boys were getting all the attention, he’d let himself get pitched off a horse, then wait until I came running. I never let on that I knew his game. I just kept fussing over him when he needed the fussing. It’s a natural thing, you know.”

  Luke sat in silence, just absorbing the bigness of his surroundings.

  “So, what are your plans?”

  Startled, Luke looked at his mother. “What do you mean?”

  “Faith. You’re not just going to let her slip away, are you?”

  “She has secrets. A past she won’t share. Every time I ask her about it, she lies.” He snorted. “It’s complicated.”

  “How complicated can it be for two young people in love? I see it in both your eyes. The question is, how much are you willing to bend?”

  Bend? His temper flared. He’d been bending ever since that night he found her in the dilapidated wagon, about to give birth. What more could he do if she didn’t want his help? “I would bend if she’d be honest with me. But she’s hiding things that are big. Things that she needs help with but won’t ask. I want a marriage like you and Pa have, one built on honesty and trust. Without that you got nothing.” He looked away. “And there’s more. Ward is Faith’s brother-in-law.”

  She shrugged as if she’d figured that out on her own. “Fear’s a funny thing, Luke,” his mother said, placing her hand on his thigh. “It can change things around in your head until you believe them wholeheartedly. Maybe she’s scared.”

  Maybe she was. If she was innocent, he’d go to Kearney and clear her name if it was the last thing he did. But that didn’t mean they were suited. If she had come to him in the beginning and been truthful, maybe they would have stood a chance. But now, he just didn’t see it.

  “Look at me,” his mother scolded. She took his chin and twisted his head in her direction. “You are definitely the stubbornest man on this ranch. You come by it naturally, though, from the Cheyenne blood flowing in your veins. They didn’t come any more hardheaded than Netchiwaan, your real father.”

  Shocked, Luke
stared at her. Never before had she made reference to the fact that he was different because of his Indian blood—or even mentioned his father’s name.

  “As you know, I was very young when I married Flood. By the time Mark came along, I was still only nineteen years old. This ranch was just a small cabin, a couple of corrals and as many steers as Flood could afford to buy. Wilderness surrounded us on all sides.” Her voice took on a dreamy quality, as if she were reading a novel of the most wonderful adventure. Luke believed memories of the abduction would haunt her. But that didn’t seem to be the case.

  “I won’t go into detail, but one day when Flood was out and I was here with my two little boys, a band of Cheyenne warriors came through the yard. After I’d pushed Matt and Mark into the cabin but before I could lower the bar, one grabbed a hold of my hair, dragging me onto his pony. I scratched him up real good but was unable to get free.”

  Luke held up his hand. “Ma, you don’t have to tell me this,” he said, his head reeling. He’d never before asked for any information because he’d wanted to spare her the pain of remembering.

  “Oh, yes I do. I’m sorry, Luke, I should have told you years ago. I didn’t realize how much you needed to hear.”

  And then she told him everything.

  When she got done, he was speechless. Luke had expected to hear an account of rape, hardship and torture. But that hadn’t been the case at all. Although her heart was broken when she’d been ripped from her husband and children, and she never gave up trying to escape, the months in captivity hadn’t been all bad. After one month of living as a slave to the chief’s oldest wife, and unharmed in any physical way, she’d been given to a young brave named Netchiwaan. He was kind and they grew fond of each other…and a small part of her still loved him. Luke had been a very special gift.

  She’d been Netchiwaan’s second wife, and since he was a warrior of great standing, the other Indians treated her well. After she’d been rescued and she realized that she was carrying the warrior’s child, she’d worried over what it would do to Flood. But Flood, being the man that he was, accepted Luke as his own, loving him exactly like his other boys.

  “You were and still are very special to me, Luke,” his mother whispered. “When I see you, with your flashing black eyes, your pride as big as a Montana sky, and even your stubbornness…I remember. Please don’t misunderstand, I was beyond happiness when I returned home to my husband and family, but I carry guilt about something: if I’m completely honest with myself, I have to admit that I did, in a way, love Netchiwaan.”

  It was unbelievable, what his mother was telling him so calmly. All these years, she’d loved a man other than Flood.

  “So, Luke. Do you think I could have been completely honest with Flood, telling him my Indian captor was sweet and charming, with a wonderful sense of humor? That he was a passionate young man who loved me fiercely? That he has his own little spot in my heart that I cherish? Flood’s a very understanding man, forgiving to a fault. But would he forgive me for what I feel? Could he live well knowing that truth?”

  “No,” Luke responded thoughtfully. At least, he couldn’t imagine himself being that understanding where Faith was concerned.

  “So you see, things are not always easy. They’re not always what they seem. The human heart is a complicated and mystifying thing; as hard as we try, we can never fathom its depth and capacity. Faith may have something so frightening in her past that she thinks she can’t share it with you—and maybe she’s right to do so. Don’t shut her out because of it. Give her a chance. And if she doesn’t ever tell you, let it go. If you get together, focus on the love you share. That’s all that matters.”

  They sat silently for some time. Astounded, Luke couldn’t picture what his mother had just confided. Was she thinking about his Indian father now as she sat beside him?

  “I’m getting a mite chilly,” she said at last. “I think I’ll go back to bed before I’m missed.”

  Luke hopped off the rail and reached up, taking his mother by the waist and lowering her to the ground. “Thanks, Ma.” He laced her hand into the crook of his arm and covered it with his own. They walked silently back to the house.

  “Get some sleep,” she suggested. “Things will be brighter in the morning. They always are.” Then she disappeared into the dark doorway.

  Sleep? He’d not get any of that tonight. His mind whirled from what she’d just told him about his biological father. Sweet and charming? A man with a wonderful sense of humor? Fiercely passionate! Everything he’d ever believed had been shattered in the blink of an eye. The secret his mother kept was not one of shame, but of love.

  Suddenly, Luke’s heart spread its wings and soared like a mighty eagle. For the first time in his life, he didn’t curse the Cheyenne blood that made him different but yearned to feel it strong and true. With a mighty war cry, he bolted through the yard. Throwing a bridle on his horse, he vaulted astride bareback and galloped off into the night.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Faith and Mr. and Mrs. McCutcheon were finishing up breakfast when Luke stepped through the door. She jumped. His wind-tousled hair and a day’s growth of dark whiskers caused him to appear even wilder and more foreboding than usual. He still wore his buckskins, but his chest was bare and dripping with water as if he’d just bathed. Eyes that fairly crackled with energy sought her face first, before moving to the other two at the table.

  Mrs. McCutcheon beamed. “Would you like something to eat?”

  “I’m famished,” Luke replied, shrugging into the shirt he held in his hands. “Do we have a steak out there somewhere?”

  Flood laughed. “This is a cattle ranch, Luke. I’m sure Esperanza can find you a whole side of beef if you want.”

  Luke pulled out the chair next to Faith’s and sat. “Sleep well?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she lied. What was the cause of this complete turnabout in mood, she wondered. He’d been civil to her last night, but just barely.

  Mrs. McCutcheon circled the table, put her arms around Luke and hugged his back. The look on her face brought tears to Faith’s eyes. Oh, how lucky the people in this family were. Were they even aware of how rare their fortune was? Looking away, she sipped from her cup of coffee.

  His parents visited and shared their plans for the day. When Esperanza set a two-inch-thick T-bone steak in front of Luke they excused themselves and went out to saddle their horses. Luke sliced into the tender meat, took a deep whiff and appreciated its aroma. Popping the wedge into his mouth, he chewed. His eyes closed. “Mmmm.” The sound was a purr. He took a sip of his coffee and sliced off another bite.

  Faith nibbled at the food on her own plate, but everything had lost its appeal.

  “I’m going to take a trip,” Luke spoke up, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

  “You are?” Alarmed, Faith frowned. “When?” She’d done nothing but hurt him since coming into his life. He probably just needed some time away from her.

  “Soon. Today. Just as soon as I can get ready for travel.”

  Today? How could she bear it? She’d more than likely be gone by the time he returned. Her heart fluttered wildly, like a bird caught in a trap. She fought against the urge to cry and whispered, “I see. How long will you be gone?”

  “Don’t rightly know.” He forked in another huge piece of meat, and Faith watched the ripple of his jaw as he chewed. “Will you miss me?”

  He said it so casually that she thought she might not have heard right. “What?”

  Luke turned and laid his fork on his plate. Taking her hands in his, he held them to his lips. “I asked if you’d miss me while I’m gone.”

  His tenderness was exactly what she didn’t need, not if she wanted to maintain her composure. Squeezing her eyes closed, she nodded. A tiny unwilling moan escaped her.

  “Shh,” he crooned. “Don’t cry. Everything is going to be all right.” Reaching out, he stroked her hair. With a small tug he had her in his lap, and she buried her face
in the warmth and safety of his neck.

  Breathing in his wonderful scent, she circled her arms around him.

  “That’s better,” he said, rubbing her back. “Now, stop your crying.” He handed her his napkin. “Blow.”

  She did and then reined in her sad feelings.

  Luke, tipping her face up with his finger, looked into her eyes. “Tell me you won’t leave until I return,” he commanded. When she didn’t answer, he quickly went on. “Stay and wait for me. Then, if you still want to go to Priest’s Crossing, I’ll take you there myself. I promise.”

  Luke looked so hopeful. She wanted him to stay happy. Would it matter much if she added one more lie to her list?

  “All right.”

  He squeezed her so hard she feared she might faint.

  “Where…?” she started to ask, but he put his finger to her lips and stopped the question.

  “Just wait till I get back.”

  She nodded.

  Standing, Luke set Faith on her feet. “I have a lot to get done before I go.” He turned to leave.

  “Luke?”

  He looked back at her.

  “I’m sorry about yesterday,” she said. Oh, how she wished she could go back. She’d do so many things differently. In her mind she’d tell him all the things she felt in her heart. How she longed to be his, only his, forever.

  He grinned, confusing her again. “So am I,” he called, and then bounded up the stairs.

  Faith stood there long after Luke rounded the hall out of sight. Something was driving him, something that had dramatically changed his mood. She wished she knew what it was. Did it have something to do with the sheriff?

  Instantly, she went cold inside. But if the sheriff knew about her past, surely Luke couldn’t be happy about it. No, Brandon Crawford had come with news about the bull that she’d learned this morning at breakfast: Earl Morton, one of the men on the cattle drive, and Will Dickson, the awful man with the scar, had maimed the bull.