Time passed; she had no idea how much before he returned. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Yes.” Hope rose in her breast, only to be quickly shattered.
“We should start our journey today.”
“Today?”
“The weather seems to have taken a turn for the better and you’ve healed up fairly well. It’s time. We might not get a break like this again.”
“I don’t mind staying here with you.”
“You would if we ran out of food.” He started to pack his saddlebags. “We would be hard pressed to survive out here if this winter is a hard one.”
“You said we’d have to leave at daybreak to make it to Calico Corner before dark.”
“We can camp out overnight. I know of a good spot.”
“I can help you pack. What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing, just sit down and be a good little gal.”
“I’m not a child.” She felt like stamping her foot at him, if she had the energy, which she didn’t.
“I know that, only wished I didn’t.”
“Could we go for one last goodbye to my father?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Where’s Maverick?”
“Outside grazing. Those oats I got from your wagon were a Godsend. I hate it when he loses condition. Do you want coffee before I put the fire out?”
“No, thank you.”
She thought she heard him mutter a curse. “Don’t go all cold on me, Mary.”
“You’ve gone cold on me.”
“I have not. Yeah, well, guess I have. It’s for your own good.”
“Why don’t you like me?”
“I do like you, that’s the point. You will thank me for this one day, when you marry a nice man and have a couple of babies.” There was a sharp edge to his voice. “Do you need help putting on your coat?”
“No, thank you.” Without speaking further, she rolled up his bedroll and handed it to him, although it took every ounce of strength she possessed.
“We’ll take the stuff from the trunk, as I know they’re important to you. I don’t want to load Maverick up too much. We’ll only take the bare essentials. He will be carrying double some of the time. The trunk should be safe out here, or maybe you can get someone to come out for it later on.”
“I understand.”
“I finished off the wine, so that’s one less thing to carry.”
He doused the fire and dubiously Mary followed him outside on trembling legs. She blinked several times to adjust to the light, fortunately not too bright as the sun was hidden behind the clouds.
They set off riding double. Finn’s arms were supportive as he held her with one hand and guided Maverick with the other.
It took only a short time to reach the burned-out shell of their wagon. She shuddered looking at the grotesque, blackened skeleton.
Finn dismounted then lifted her down, waiting with the horse as she trudged over to the grave. On a board from the wagon, still bearing the scars of the fire, were carved the words, Pastor Schultz.
“Goodbye, father. I hate leaving you out here in this lonely place. I promise I will try to have you brought into Calico Corner for a proper Christian burial. I won’t be marrying Wolfgang. I’ve fallen in love with a man who doesn’t want me. Goodbye. Sleep well in the arms of the Lord with mother.”
Kissing her fingertips, she ran them across his name and swallowing back her tears, stumbled toward a silent, grim-faced Finn.
Chapter Seven
Every hour or so they stopped to give Maverick a rest, and after they had eaten cold pancakes left over from breakfast, started off again with Finn leading the horse.
“I could walk for a while.”
“No, you’re as white as a ghost, and can barely stand up. I’m not blind. I know you’re struggling, but we couldn’t stay at the cave any longer. There’s a tumbledown miner’s shack up here a bit where we can camp the night. It will be easy for us to make an early start in the morning.”
“Whatever you think is best.”
“I’m sorry about your father, it must have been hard to leave him out there. When we get to Calico Corner I’ll see if I can arrange for someone to bring him in before I leave town.”
“You’re going to leave?”
“Yes. Don’t worry, I’ll get you settled in somewhere. Sheriff Sam Tyson is a friend of mine and his wife, Ethel, runs a small boarding house. I’m sure she will have a room for you. She always keeps a spare room for me, so you could have that if she’s full up.”
“I don’t have any money.”
“I’ll pay for you, so don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”
Pretty. She felt like a filthy, wrung out rag, in clothes she had worn for three days. No clean undergarments, even. She had managed to re-plait her hair as she had no bonnet to cover it.
“I’m looking forward to a bath and a shave,” he said, as if reading her mind. “It will probably cost me ninety cents, more than I like to pay, but under the circumstances, worth it.”
“Me, too. At least you don’t look as filthy or disheveled as me. It’s worse for a woman.”
“Why? A man can feel grubby and disheveled, too.”
“Yes, but people don’t think much of it. For a woman, they will think she’s some kind of dirty trollop.”
The breath hissed from between his teeth. “They will not.”
She knew differently; women were always dealt with more harshly by other women than men. If it ever got out about them sleeping together in that cave, her reputation would be beyond redemption. She hunched her shoulders and stared straight ahead.
“You’re worrying about nothing,” he said.
“It’s all right for a man, there’s no stigma attached to them. It’s the woman who always suffers. A tarnished reputation can ruin her for life.”
“Nothing untoward happened and no one will know how long we spent together. We can let people think I found you wandering around out here and brought you straight into town.”
They lapsed into silence. Obviously, he neither knew, nor cared, how little it took to ruin a woman’s reputation. Finally, when her head felt like it was ready to crack open and her arm throbbed, he pointed to a huge mound of dirt and stones.
“Behind there is an old miner’s shack.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve stayed here a few times over the last couple of years.” He hesitated. “We lived in it for a while when I was a boy. You need to be careful, it’s rough.” He lifted her down and took a firm grip on the reins, clicked his tongue and Maverick started to pick his way over the rock-strewn ground. “The reason the shack is still here is because the ground is so rough, and if you didn’t know it was here, you would pass by without seeing it.”
As they got to the back of this man-made hill, she could still not see the shack. “Look hard, through the vines and bushes, see the chimney.”
Squinting in the direction he pointed, she spied a stone chimney poking out from between a wall of dry bushes and scraggy trees. “I see what you mean about not knowing it was here. You could pass close by and not see it.”
They weaved their way through the trees and when they parted, she saw the shack looking like it had been built into a cliff. The porch sagged, a few shingles had dropped off the roof and now lay on the ground.
“It’s not very big.”
“Part of the place covers a hole gouged into the cliff by dynamite, at a guess. It was done before our time.”
“Is Maverick going to share with us?”
Finn grinned. “No, I’m going to have you all to myself, Mary.”
Tingles ran up her spine.
“He can have the porch. As you can see, I closed in one end and cleared away the garbage. I was here about six months ago.”
“Chasing someone?”
“Yes. You don’t have to like what I do, but I am providing a service by bringing wanted men in because the authorities can’
t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“No, but your eyes condemn me and my line of work. You’re just like everyone else.” There was a bitter edge to his voice.
“I’m not like anyone else. I….I love you, Finn.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth. I know you don’t care for me….”
They dismounted. “Of course, I care for you, that’s the reason I’m going to leave you in Calico Corner. There’s no future for a gal like you with a man like me.”
She stamped her foot. “There is if I say there is.”
“I would never want to bring you down to my level. You deserve better.”
“I don’t want better. I want you.”
“Too bad. You’re not getting me.”
The pain of his rejection doubled her over and she stumbled away from him. He was deliberately trying to make her dislike him.
“Let’s stop bickering and get organized.” He pushed the door open and peered in. “It doesn’t look like anyone has been here since the last time I was here, just as I would have expected.”
She followed him inside and glanced around. The shack was in poor condition, dirty with leaves piled up in the corners. There was a fireplace, with a steel tripod on which to hang a cooking pot, standing in the middle of it. The place was primitive, devoid of furniture except for a couple of wooden boxes and a rusty double bed.
It gave her a strange feeling to be in Finn’s childhood home. “Cleaned up, the place wouldn’t be too bad. I’ll get a fire going for you.”
“No, you need to rest, it’s been a long, hard day for you. I want to make it into Calico Corner tomorrow.”
He could not wait to get rid of her. The pain of rejection ate at her like a starving dog. She slumped on one of the boxes. He was right in one respect, exhaustion weighed her down. Her eyes were still only half open and the lids stung. Maybe she should have accepted his offer to cover her eyes with his bandana. She had to be careful and not take unnecessary risks with her eyes. The air in the shack was slightly stale, although there were no signs that an animal had made a home in here.
Finn returned carrying his bedroll, saddlebags and Winchester, and stacked them neatly in one corner. “I’ll just unsaddle Maverick and give him some oats, he deserves a bit of spoiling.”
When he returned, he dumped the saddle in the corner and the tied-up blanket containing her mother’s jewelry, the bible and the quilt. “There isn’t any water here that we can use for drinking. At one time a creek flowed close by. It was blocked by landfalls and the water could be contaminated, so we only have what’s in my canteen. It will have to be beans tonight; we can’t spare water for pancakes, the same at breakfast. A couple of tins of beans less will lighten the load a little, as well.”
The fire was already set, and once he lit it, the flickering flames soon gave out a comforting light. “I’ll eat my beans out of the frypan, you have the plate,” he said.
Chapter Eight
Finn laid the bedroll out and the extra blanket. “I’ll build the fire up later to keep the place warm.”
“Are you going to use the bed?”
He shook his head. “It’s too old and rusty, and my weight might cause it to collapse.”
“Did you live here long?”
He pursed his lips. “A few years.”
“Were they happy?” She wanted to find out as much about him as she could.
He laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. My mother was Irish, pa American. Hot tempered, the both of them.” He used his knife to open the tins of beans before tipping the contents into the pan. “They were either yelling at each other or loving each other. No in between.”
“Finnigan, is that an Irish name?”
“Yeah, ma’s name was Eileen Finnigan. Pa hated me being called Finnigan, I think because he loathed his in-laws. Anyway, a catholic priest passed through here when I was a few days old. Ma got him to baptize me Finnigan Patrick Muir. Pa was fit to be tied when he found out.”
“That must have caused problems.”
“It sure did, so pa decided to call me Finn and I guess it stuck.” He tipped a portion of beans on to the plate for her and handed it over. “Coffee won’t be long.”
“How old were you when you moved here?” She spooned the warm beans into her mouth. They had a slightly smokey taste which was quite pleasant.
“About six or so.” He strode over to the bed. “Ma died here.”
“Oh, no.”
“Yeah, in this very bed, birthing twin girls. One was stillborn, the other only lived for a couple of hours, then ma died.” He shuddered. “It almost destroyed pa.”
“That is so sad. I’m sorry, Finn.”
“It was years ago. I don’t know why I’m even telling you about it. I haven’t thought about it in years, let alone spoken of it.”
“Are they buried out here?”
“Yeah. There used to be a small town with a cemetery and a church once. It all disappeared in a landslide. We left not long afterward. I don’t think my father could bear to think of them lying under all that rubble.” He drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “We drifted around the various gold fields from then on.”
“I’m so sorry.” She touched his hand. What a tragedy for both him and his father.
“After pa died, I worked on a ranch for a few years, learned to shoot, then became a bounty hunter. What about you?”
“Not much to tell, my mother died when I was a child and my father brought me up.”
“You got on well with your father?” He poured out the coffee.
“Yes, mostly. He was strict, very pedantic, but a good and loving father. It must have been hard for a man in his position to bring up a little girl alone. The only thing we argued about, was his desire to marry me off to a wealthy, much older man.”
“He was prepared to marry you off to some old man because he was rich. I don’t call that loving.”
“He thought he was doing the right thing by me, only it wasn’t what I wanted, and I told him so. We were arguing about it again, just a few minutes before he was shot. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
“It wasn’t your fault; arguments happen in families. That’s just the way of it. When we finish our coffee, it will be time to turn in. I want to leave here as soon as it gets light. Do you need to go outside?”
“Yes.”
“I do, too. We’ll do that next, then go to bed.”
There was a door at the back of the room that she headed toward.
“No, that leads into a mine that hasn’t been used in years. We’ll go to the front and duck down the side. I checked it out before and it’s safe if you don’t go beyond the bushes. I’ll check on Maverick to give you privacy. Yell out if there’s a problem.”
Finn was surprisingly thoughtful when it came to things like this. She had slept in her skirt and blouse, as it had been too difficult to take her outer wear off with her injured arm. Tonight, she could undress herself. What was the point? She had nothing clean to change into and like he said, it was safer if they both remained fully clothed.
The fire through the open door gave out enough light to pierce the darkness as she headed toward the bushes. When she returned to the porch, Finn was patting Maverick. “I’m finished.”
“Okay, we’ll go inside.”
“What about you?”
“I went over there.” He pointed to the opposite side of the shack. “Brr, it’s cold, let’s get inside and warm up. By this time tomorrow, we should be eating some of Ethel Tysons’s thick, juicy beef steaks.”
“I can’t wait.” Mary hated the fact she was unable to wash her hands and face, but Finn was rationing the water in his canteen. He had told her the horse had taken a drink from a couple of deep puddles. At least the oats from the wagon had come in useful once Finn’s supply had run out.
Regardless of what he thought, he was a good man, kind and considerate to both his horse and her.
When
her father had driven through Calico Corner, she had not seen much of the town, as they had only stayed one night because he was anxious to get her to Wolfgang in Cheyenne. What she had seen of the place showed a nice, clean looking little western town, the likes of which they had passed through many times before.
Occasionally, her father had been given a church for a few months before being moved on. Whether it was by choice she never really knew. Mother’s death had affected him badly, broke his heart, yet he had never become bitter toward God. Stoic and devote were probably the best words to describe him.
Finn built up the fire and she sat on the bedroll in one corner, watching as he scooped up leaves to make himself a bed in the corner, far away from her, yet close to the horse. Once the fire was burning brightly, he wrapped himself in the blanket and turned his back on her.
Mary curled up in the bed roll to sleep. Her eyes grew heavy and she let herself drift into oblivion.
She woke up shivering. The fire had burned down to a glowing bed of embers and a gusty blast of wind blew in from under the door. Worse still, she replayed her father’s murder inside her head. The outlaw was laughing. “I killed your pa and now it’s your turn. A little fun first, though.” His guttural voice hammered against her head, attacking her brain with a menacing violence. She pushed a fist into her mouth to stop the frenzied screams from escaping. It had been a nightmare, but so realistic she had thought she was awake.
“Finn,” she called out his name before she could stop herself.
“What in….Mary?”
“Oh, Finn.” She stumbled over to him. “I’m so scared.”
He leapt to his feet. “What!”
“He was going to kill me,” she blubbered.
“Who?”
“The outlaw, Clampett.”
He enfolded her in his arms as she sobbed against his chest. “It was a nightmare, darlin’, go back to sleep.” He led her over to the bedroll. “I’ll build the fire up again, you’re shivering.”
Rescuing the Pastor's Daughter Page 4