by Ingis, Gail
Leila lost her appetite and pushed her plate of stew away. “I suppose that means we aren’t going out west right away.”
Tom shrugged. “What difference does it make? Yer with me to get experience. This will be a way to improve yer skills in trackin’ men.”
“I don’t think I want any experience at being a trapper or anything related to it any longer,” she mumbled.
He chuckled. “Can’t disappoint yer pa now, can ya?” He rose and stretched. “Ya better get some shuteye. We dock at Atchison tomorrow first thing in the mornin’ an’ see Tappan right after.”
She blew out her cheeks, staring at her congealing stew. “I didn’t join you to hunt and kill men.”
“Then I’ll leave ya at Atchison. Ya can go snivelin’ back to yer pa like a good yellowbelly.” He sauntered off.
“I’m no coward,” she snapped, shouting at Tom’s back.
“Then buck up, lad.” Tom called out over his shoulder to Leila as he left the dining area.
“Oh, Rork, where are you?” she whispered.
Chapter 29
Rork walked back and forward on the Atchison wharf. As calm as he might pretend to be, even to himself, Rork felt . . . perturbed. Would Leila come today? Surely, she wouldn’t accept that I’d go west without her. Shoulders slumped, he made his way back to the carriage.
Joshua was leaning against the carriage. “Still no sign of Leila?”
Rork shook his head. A trapper walking with a youth caught his eye. The boy looked familiar—looked like Leila. Twitching his shoulders with irritation, he opened the carriage door. God, I see her everywhere. That can’t be her. Why would she be dressed as a boy? Why would she be in the company of such a questionable-looking character?
“Maybe tomorrow.” Joshua followed Rork into the carriage.
“This must be my tenth trip to the wharf in three weeks.” Rork laughed bitterly. “Like a lovesick fool, I’ve met every boat arriving from Kansas City.”
“Even if you miss her here, I’m sure she’ll at least visit Cornelia. Then you can talk to her.”
Rork leaned his elbows on his knees, staring at his clasped hands. “She can be stubborn. I fear I messed up. I should never have threatened her by leaving. But if I go to Kansas to be with her, I’ll seem indecisive.”
Joshua laughed. “And that’s a bad thing?”
Rork scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know.”
“What is done is done.” Joshua patted Rork’s shoulder. “Find something to paint. It’ll cheer you up and take your mind off Leila.”
Nodding, he sat back and stared out the window. There was that boy and the trapper again. He stared at the lad’s distinctly feminine backside. This boy was too fashionably dressed to be a trapper’s son. His thoughts drifted to Leila dressed in trousers when they'd stumbled on those renegades. God, her legs seem to go on forever. He groaned. Hank’s dead, but how the hell do I get him out of her head?
Joshua’s compassionate gaze settled on him. “Hard to get the person you love out of your head, huh?”
“I don’t know how you could bear being separated from Kate.”
“Imagine me, a slave in love with the master’s daughter.” Joshua smiled and rubbed his cheek. “Even among abolitionists, it’s frowned on for a colored to marry a white.”
Rork shook his head. “People are narrow minded. Luckily, you and Kate are strong enough to weather the spears of their disapproval.”
“I fear for our children, though.”
Rork nodded. They lapsed into companionable silence until they reached Smith’s Boardinghouse. It was ideal for a short stay, but not always clean of lice. The reputation of the Smith landladies boasted good food and cleanliness.
Kate ran out and flew down the three steps from the porch into Joshua’s arms and kissed him. “I missed you. I came back from teaching and nearly cried because you weren’t here.”
A man passing by snorted. “Don’t know what the world is coming to. Who would have thought a white woman would couple with a darkie?”
His plump wife grabbed his arm and hushed him then picked up the pace, dragging her husband.
He shook her hand off and looked over his shoulder, glaring. “Kind should stick to kind!”
Rork strode to the gate and ripped it open, bearing down on the man. “See how well my fist sticks to your face, you bigoted asshole!” His fist slammed into the man’s jaw, sending him to the ground. Rork towered over the cringing man. “Get up and apologize to the lady and her husband.”
He clasped his bleeding mouth. “What?” He stumbled to his feet, backing away. “That’s a damn insult.”
“Insult? You delivered the insult.” A fight was just what Rork needed. “I’ll tear you apart.”
The man’s wife stepped between her husband and Rork. “He didn’t mean what he said.” She turned to face her husband. “Please. Go home before he kills you.”
Grumbling and holding a handkerchief to his nose, the man scrambled up and stormed off. His wife waddled after him.
Rork clenched and unclenched his hands. “Damn, I was looking forward to a good rumble.”
Joshua laughed and took his arm. “You’ll have your work cut out for you if you accost every person who slanders us. Let it go. Kate and I are used to it.”
“It shouldn’t be like that.” He walked down the path to the house. “I’m going to pack my paints and canvases. You’re right, Joshua. Painting will take my mind off Leila and calm this damn temper of mine . . . in all likelihood.”
Cornelia came out with Michael’s arm around her shoulders. She supported him with an arm around his waist. His left trouser leg was folded and pinned over his stump.
Rork smiled. “Good to see you up and about, Michael.”
“You call this up and about, how?”
Cornelia glanced at him, pain in her eyes. “Remember, we talked about being positive.”
“I am positive—positively eyeless and legless.” He laughed, but his eyes remained empty, no light, no mirth.
“Michael, stop that.”
“If you don’t like who I am, you’re welcome to terminate our betrothal.”
“I will not stand here and listen to you wallow in self-pity.”
“I’m not asking you to. Go. Please go and leave me the hell alone.”
Rork glanced at Joshua and jerked his head toward the front door. Joshua nodded. They walked past Michael and Cornelia. The couple seemed oblivious to them as they glared at each other. Cornelia stepped away, depriving Michael of her support.
Using only his crutch as support, he teetered and crumpled. “Damn it, woman, at least warn me if you intend to let go.”
Rork caught him before he hit the ground. “Michael, Cornelia does nothing but support you. The least you could do is show some gratitude. What happened to your battlefield bravery, your strength and your courage? Grow a pair of balls, man.”
Michael growled and jerked away. He tumbled down the few steps and lay on his back, pounding the ground with his crutch. “Shit, shit, shit!” He lifted his head and glared at them. “Just get out of my sight. All of you!” His angry gaze settled on Rork. “And what would you know about growing balls? You aren’t even volunteering to fight, you damn coward.”
Hand clasped to her mouth, Cornelia was mortified.
Rork walked down the steps and hauled Michael up. He slung his frail form over his shoulder and carried him into the house.
“Put me down. I am not a damn child!” Michael pounded Rork’s back as he strode to Michael’s quarters.
“Then stop behaving like a child.” Rork opened the bedroom door and launched Michael onto the cot-sized bed on wheels. He loomed over him, hands on his hips. “You’re right. I haven’t joined up, but it isn’t because I la
ck courage. You, however, showed immense bravery against impossible odds. Then you lapse into this ridiculous state of self-pity. What the hell is wrong with you? It isn’t as if you’re the only damaged soldier around. Cornelia absolutely adores you. Her love and loyalty are rare. You’re a lucky man to have a woman like that at your side.”
Michael struggled to sit. He hung his head, tears slowly coursing down his gaunt cheeks. “Truth is, I’d rather be dead than half a man.”
“You’re damn lucky you didn’t lose your arm as well, and that was only thanks to Cornelia’s nursing. But if that’s how you feel, shoot yourself and be done with it. Assuming that’s what you really want.”
Michael gaped at him. “You cold bastard!”
Rork’s mouth twitched. “Ah, so I’m cold, huh? Clearly you aren’t that committed to dying. So start living.”
“I lack the courage to take my life, but I’m no damn good to anyone.”
Rork sat next to him. “Michael, you know what it’s like to lose a limb and half your sight. You could help other men get through their traumatic experiences.” He put a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “There are drummer boys in the hospital who have lost not only limbs, but their fathers and mothers. Life must seem pointless to them. Instead of feeling sorry for yourself, help them.”
Several minutes passed before Michael spoke. “That takes some thought and planning. It’s not easy to get over the reality, shock, and terror of war. I don’t imagine you ever get over it. You just learn to live with it.” Michael glanced at Rork. “Sorry I called you a coward. I heard that you showed incredible bravery when that steamer went down.” His eyes slid from Rork, and he bit his lip. “Why didn’t you join up?”
Rork shrugged. “I’ve agonized over that. I thought it would be of more value painting the West and the war to acquaint the folks at home.” He snorted. “Not that I’ve done much of that either. I keep getting caught up in situations.”
Michael bent to grab his crutch and struggled to stand upright.
Rork took his arm.
“No, let me do things for myself.” He finally stood, leaning on the crutch. “Thank you for saying what nobody dared or wanted to say.” He moved to a corner and picked up a second crutch. “I need to make things right with my lady.”
“Your lady is right here.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, her face aglow, and kissed him. She then looked at Rork. “Thank you.”
Nodding, Rork walked to the door. “I’ll leave you two. I’ll need to sort out my art material and go paint.”
Leila sat with Tom in a bar near Atchison wharf, trying to avoid feminine postures or actions that would expose her.
Tom leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, holding Tappan’s gaze. “So the Espinosa clan is still on the run?”
“They are.” Tappan sat back and ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair, hazel eyes fixed on Tom. “We need your tracking skills to apprehend them. We killed one of the brothers, but cousins have joined the remaining sibling. They’re headed for Mexico as far as we could tell from footprints we picked up. Unfortunately, we lost them.” He rose and slapped his hat on. “Not many with your tracking skill. Will you help us, Tom?”
“Yup.”
Tappan stroked his trim beard and looked at Leila. “The boy will hamper your progress.”
“That’s my problem.” Tom rose, prodding Leila lightly on the shoulder. “Let’s get movin’, lad.”
Eyes wide, Leila hurried after him. “How long will this take?”
“As long as is needed to find an’ kill ‘em.”
“I thought you weren’t going after the killers. Did you change your mind?”
Tom stopped abruptly, and Leila collided into him. “Ya a coward, boy? Ya sure soundin’ more like one every day.”
“No, I’m not.” She planted her hands on her hips, as she glared at Tom. “But neither am I a fool.” She flapped her hand. “I don’t stand a chance in a confrontation against these-these murderers.”
“There won’t be a confrontation.” He jammed his hat over his eyes. “They don’t stand a chance against me. Like I said, ye’re welcome to go snivelin’ back to yer pa.”
Jaw clamped, Leila glared at his back as he strode away before running after him. “I need to see a friend of mine before we leave.”
“What friend would that be?”
“A lady.”
Tom stopped and lifted one heavy eyebrow, his yellow eyes dancing with humor for the first time. “Seems I underestimated ya.” He chortled. “Most boys yer age don’t know what to do with that little thing between their legs.”
Heat invaded Leila’s cheeks. “She’s my sister’s friend, and I have a message for her.”
Tom shoved his thumbs into his belt and rocked back on his heels, lips pursed. “Sure ya do. I’ll get horses. Go talk to yer lady.”
“She’s not my lady,” Leila said and spun on her heel, marching off. She stopped and turned. “Ah, I’m not sure where she’s staying.”
Tom laughed. “Then I guess ya ain’t gonna see yer lady.”
“I have to see her. You’re supposed to be this know-all tracker. Help me find her.”
“I follow tracks, lad. I don’t hunt for addresses.”
Leila’s breath exploded. “You are so damn difficult.” She spun and walked away.
“Go to the wharf and make inquiries. I’ll see ya back here at the hotel in two hours, an’ don’t be late,” he yelled.
Expelling a sharp breath, Leila hailed a coach. “Take me to the wharf, please.”
“Where ya goin’, boy?”
“I’m looking for a friend and hoping y’all remember her. She’s with a soldier who lost a leg and an eye. There is also a negro gentleman and another lady accompanying them.”
“Ah, the colored fella has a white wife.”
She nodded, expecting his derision.
“I have me a wonderful wife, and she was a slave.”
Leila relaxed and smiled. “Do you know where they live?”
“Aye, buddy of mine took ‘em to a boardinghouse in town. Hop in. I’ll take ya there.”
“Thank you.” She climbed into the coach and fell back against the hard seat. “Please, God, let Cornelia know where Rork is.” She took off her hat and ran her fingers through her short hair. “What if he tells me to go to hell?” The carriage stopped at a white and pale green wooden house with walkout windows. She jumped out. “Please wait for me.” She opened the gate and walked up the stone path.
Cornelia flung the door open and ran to meet her. “Leila, I can’t believe you’re here at last. Did you find Hank?”
Leila nodded. “I’ll explain everything, but right now I need a cup of tea.” They linked arms and walked to the house. “I wasn’t even sure you were in Atchison.”
“We left shortly after you. Michael responded well to the treatment and recovered enough to travel.” Cornelia’s eyes danced. “Why are you dressed like a man?”
“It’s a long story.” She hugged Cornelia. “Is Rork here?”
“No.”
Leila’s heart fell. “Has he gone out west?”
Cornelia took Leila’s arm and led her to the kitchen. “Come and have that cup of tea. I also have many things to tell you.”
“I don’t have much time. I traveled here with a trapper named Tom Tobin, and he expects me back in less than two hours.”
Michael hobbled into the kitchen on crutches and grinned. “Who is your boyfriend? Little young for you.”
Cornelia moved to his side and kissed him. “You were sick and not of sound mind when Leila worked with us at the army hospital.” She filled him in. “Why this charade, well, she’ll have to enlighten us.”
For half an hour Leila explai
ned the circumstances around Hank’s death. “I took responsibility for destroying a great mind.” She bit her lip. “Rork and I made love,” she blurted. “My ridiculous attitude about Hank’s death drove Rork away.” She sighed. “By the time I came to my senses, he’d left.”
Cornelia waved a hand. “And the male garb?”
Leila sipped her tea. “On our trip to Kansas, the captain of the steamer we were on tried to seduce me. Without Rork’s protection, I didn’t want to take any more chances.” She shrugged. “Hence the male garb.” Staring miserably at Michael and Cornelia, she set her cup down. “Where did Rork go?”
Cornelia reached over and took her hand. “We don’t know. He may have headed west. All he said was that he was going to paint, but didn’t say for how long or where. He left on horseback with a mule for his equipment.”
“I think he has gone out west.” Michael smiled. “Aren’t all artists a little deranged?”
“Perhaps, but Rork isn’t like other artists.” Leila rose slowly, her heart aching. “I’ve made a mess of things with my immature attitude. Now I’m stuck with this morose and rather mad trapper.”
“Why not stay with us until Rork returns?”
“If he took all his things I’m guessing he will be heading westward. The man I’m with is an expert tracker, and after he’s apprehended these killers, he’ll doubtless help me find Rork.”
Cornelia’s brow furrowed. “It’s dangerous for you to accompany the tracker. Perhaps the man can leave you here and return for you.”