The Blackbird
Page 1
THE BLACKBIRD
Wings of the West: Book Four
by
Kristy McCaffrey
THE BLACKBIRD
Arizona Territory
1877
Bounty hunter Cale Walker arrives in Tucson to search for J. Howard “Hank” Carlisle at the request of his daughter, Tess. Hank mentored Cale before a falling out divided them, and a mountain lion attack left Cale nearly dead. Rescued by a band of Nednai Apache, his wounds were considered a powerful omen and he was taught the ways of a di-yin, or a medicine man. To locate Hank, Cale must enter the Dragoon Mountains, straddling two worlds that no longer fit. But he has an even bigger problem—finding a way into the heart of a young woman determined to live life as a bystander.
For two years, Tess Carlisle has tried to heal the mental and physical wounds of a deadly assault by one of her papá’s men. Continuing the traditions of her Mexican heritage, she has honed her skills as a cuentista, a storyteller and a Keeper of the Old Ways. But with no contact from her father since the attack, she fears the worst. Tess knows that to reenter Hank Carlisle’s world is a dangerous endeavor, and her only hope is Cale Walker, a man unlike any she has ever known. Determined to make a journey that could lead straight into the path of her attacker, she hardens her resolve along with her heart. But Cale makes her yearn for something she vowed she never would—love.
Copyright 2015 by K. McCaffrey LLC
All Rights Reserved
Cover by Earthly Charms
Edited by Truelove Press
Smashwords Edition
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author
Books and Additional Works by Kristy McCaffrey
Wings of the West Series
The Wren
The Dove
The Sparrow
The Blackbird
Echo of the Plains (Short Novella)
Stand-Alone Novels
Into The Land Of Shadows
Anthologies
Lassoing A Groom
Cowboy Cravings
Cowboys, Creatures, and Calico Vol. 2
Cowboy Kisses
Short Novellas
Canyon Crossing
Lily and Mesquite Joe
A Westward Adventure
The Crow and the Coyote
The Crow and the Bear
Long Novellas
Alice: Bride of Rhode Island
Young Adult Contemporary Short Novellas
A Current So Swift
(in the anthology This Summer Storm)
~ Praise for the Wings of the West series ~
THE WREN
“…McCaffrey's mastery of setting and historic details gives this western gritty realism.” ~ Romantic Times BOOKclub
“I am a true historical western fan so this book was really an exceptional read for me. Don't miss…what is sure to be a great series to follow.”
~ The Romance Studio
“Handsome, rugged heroes, strong heroines and a super storyline make THE WREN a keeper.” ~ The Best Reviews
THE DOVE
“…glorious descriptions of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, Las Vegas of the late 1800's, and the Ryan homestead. This reviewer felt herself transported to the very locales being described.” ~ Love Romances
“Ms. McCaffrey writes from the heart…a definite must read.”
~ The Romance Studio
“If you are a lover of western romances, I'd recommend reading this one.”
~ Romance Junkies
THE SPARROW
“Readers will love the story…” ~ RT BookReviews
“I…commend McCaffrey for the historical accuracy of her stories…a phenomenal read that I'd recommend to anyone who enjoys historical romance, with a hint of the other.” ~ Jonel Boyko, Reviewer
“Ancient Hopi and Havasupai legends have a new voice in McCaffrey. Her inspired writing made her main character's mystical journey into another realm entirely believable and kept the pages turning long into the night.”
~ City Sun Time
THE BLACKBIRD
“With dastardly villains, plenty of action, a strong heroine, surprising twists and turns, and a sexy cowboy, all underlined by a sensual love story, this historical western romance has something for everyone.”
~ Janna Shay, InD'tale Magazine
Dedication
For my children.
May stories enrich their lives.
“And sometimes there comes a serious traveler who moves like a light through all our hundred souls
and shows,
through our shivers,
a new way.”
Rainer Maria Rilke, The Book of Hours
Chapter One
Arizona Territory
Near Tucson
August 1877
Cale Walker approached the barn at the Simms’ homestead, leading his horse. No one appeared to be in residence at the moment, so he thought to see to the animal while he awaited their return.
A woman’s voice floated on the heavy, late-summer air currents. “He was attacked by a león de montaña—a mountain lion—and it was a most terrible thing.”
Cale paused.
“He’d lost so much blood,” the woman continued, with a faint Mexican accent. “The Apache didn’t know if they could save him. It was in the hands of their life-giver, Yusn.”
“What happened to him, Auntie Tess?” a young boy asked, his voice fervent and eager.
“He had lived. The Apache recognized in him a strong spirit. He was marked by the león de montaña, and this was indeed significant. So they taught him the ways of their people. They taught him their medicine, and he became a di-yin.”
She’s telling a story about me.
“What’s that?” the boy asked.
Cale pushed the brim of his Stetson up and listened closely, wondering if the woman would get this part right.
“A chamán.”
“Huh?” the boy said.
“A medicina man,” the woman tried.
The boy must have still been perplexed.
“A doctor,” she continued.
“Oh,” the boy said.
Cale couldn’t see them, hidden around the corner as they were, but he could sense the boy’s dawning realization, and imagined his eyes widening and his head nodding.
“A doktur,” a little girl’s voice repeated.
“That’s right, Molly Rose,” the woman, Auntie Tess, said. She must be the very Tess he’d come to see, Hank’s daughter. “Muy buena. Now, time to get back to the house so we can have lunch. Te vas.”
“You want me to help you?” the boy asked.
“No Robbie, I’ll be fine,” Tess responded . “I’ll be along in un momento.”
Cale heard the children scamper away but he didn’t move. Tess remained where she was, and he felt as if he’d eavesdropped. While he debated how to make his presence known, his horse snorted.
Thanks, Bo.
“Is there someone there?” Tess asked, but she didn’t approach.
Cale frowned. Did she fear him? Was there enough outlaw activity and Apache depredations in these parts for her to be wary?
“Yeah,” he said, and rounded the corner.
Tess Carlisle stood by a bale of hay, her black hair in a braid resting against a white blouse and her hips clad i
n a colorful Mexican skirt. The sun shone behind her in the barn door, and he couldn’t make out her features, but she appeared young and pretty. She sure didn’t resemble her pa, J. Howard Carlisle, or H ank, as Cale knew him. She must take after her ma, whom Cale had never met.
“Sorry to startle you,” he said. “I’m Cale Walker. You must be Tess Carlisle.”
Recognition filled her gaze. “Oh, sí, pleased to meet you.” She didn’t move from her position, however, which Cale thought strange. “You came after all. Mary wasn’t certain if you would.”
And that’s when he saw the cane she leaned against, and he knew she carried an injured leg.
“I heard you were lookin’ for Hank. Not sure if I can help.” He paused. “Are you hurt?”
She glanced down at the wooden support. “Of a sort. It’s an old injury. Would you like to come to the house? I was about to make lunch for the children. Tom and Mary aren’t here at the moment. They took the baby into town.”
“Everything all right? ”
“Sí. She’s got a bit of the croup. The doctor should fix it right up.”
“I’ll tend to my horse first, if you don’t mind. It’s been a long journey.”
“You came all the way from Texas?”
“That’s right.” He guided his horse to a stall, then began to remove the saddle.
“I’ll just see to the children,” she said. “The house is over that way. Please join us when you’re finished.”
“Sounds good.”
She turned and left the barn, leaning heavily on the cane but moving swiftly nevertheless.
Cale watched her go, wondering what had happened to her, curious what nonsense Hank might’ve gotten his daughter into.
Once he finished getting Bo settled with fresh hay and water, he headed to the spacious hacienda. Following the sounds of children, he entered the interior courtyard. A dog ran toward him, stood its ground, and barked.
“Cabal, ven aca,” Tess said sternly from inside the kitchen.
A young boy stood just inside the doorway, looking to be about five or six years old, with a mop of dark hair and a sunburned face. “Who’re you?”
“That’s Señor Walker, Robbie,” Tess said from inside.
The dog, a big brown mutt with floppy ears and short hair, continued to bark. Tess appeared in the doorway behind Robbie, leaning on her cane. “Cabal, heel,” she said.
The dog obeyed, but kept his gaze on Cale.
“Is this your guard dog?” he asked.
Tess smiled as she glanced at the animal, the love in her gaze unmistakable. “He’s a good one. He won’t bite, but it takes a bit for him to become comfortable with new people. His name is Cabal.” She rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “And this is Robbie Simms, Tom and Mary’s eldest.”
Cale wondered at the change that had overtaken Tess’s face. She all but glowed around the boy and the dog.
“Pleased to meet you, Robbie.” He crouched to be at eye level with the youngster.
“Are you a bounty come to get my head?” Robbie asked.
Cale smiled. “No. I’ve just come for a visit with your ma.”
A little girl peeked from behind Tess’s skirt.
“This is Molly Rose.” Tess ruffled her hair affectionately. “She’s three.”
Molly Rose held up three fingers to emphasize her age.
“Pleased to meet you, Molly,” Cale replied. “I happen to know another Molly, your aunt. You’re in good company with that name.” Cale knew the girl was too young to understand that “Aunt Molly” was also his half-sister , so he kept that information to himself.
The girl, with brown curls framing her round face, watched him with wary and curious eyes.
“We’ve got tortillas and beans,” Tess offered. “Are you hungry?”
Cale nodded.
“You can wash up out there,” she added. A basin of water sat low enough for the children to reach.
He removed his hat, and Molly Rose shyly made a grab for it. She giggled and disappeared into the kitchen with her prize. Hunching over, he grabbed the lye soap and washed the dust and grime from him as best he could, then ran wet fingers through his short-cropped hair and across his face. He hoped he looked presentable.
When he entered the kitchen Tess was reaching for a pot of beans on the cook stove.
He moved to it. “Here, let me.”
Tess backed up. “Gracias.”
He set the pot on the table. They all sat on benches, Cale on one side and Tess on the other with both children sandwiching her. Cale reached for the ladle as Tess did, bumping her hand.
“Perdón,” she mumbled, not looking at him.
She spooned the red beans into each bowl and passed them in turn to the children, then to Cale, then to herself. She distributed the tortillas, and filled cups from a pitcher of water.
“Have you heard from mi padre?” she asked, now raising her gaze to his. Her green eyes briefly held him spellbound, the color unlike any he’d ever seen. It was as if the emerald-covered hills of Ireland, of which Hank had often reminisced, were reflected in his daughter.
“No. I haven’t seen Hank in four years.”
“He hasn’t contacted you? You don’t have any mutual acquaintances?”
“No. And yes, we do. We parted ways in ’73, just before he came here to get you after your ma died. I haven’t been in this area for some time since then. When he came for you, didn’t he stay?”
“I’m guessing you knew Hank fairly well,” she replied. “So it probably won’t come as a surprise to you that he didn’t stay with me, but instead took me with him.”
Cale wondered if that was the cause of her injury. Hank hadn’t led a calm and peaceful life. “For how long?”
“Two years. Then he brought me here. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”
“Why do you wanna find him now?”
“I’m eighteen years old.” Molly Rose dropped a spoon and Tess leaned down to retrieve it. She wiped it with a cloth, then handed it back to the girl. “I can’t live here forever, however welcoming Tom and Mary are.”
“Yes you can,” Robbie chimed in. “We don’t want you to leave.”
“I’m not leaving,” she said to him then turned to Cale. “But I need to know the whereabouts of Hank. He’s the only family I have left. And then I can make a decision as to my future.”
“Are you gonna marry that Esteban fella?” Robbie asked.
“No, Robbie, I’m not.”
“If you’d wait for me, then we could get married.” His earnest young face conveyed his commitment.
Tess smiled indulgently, and Cale caught himself staring at her natural charm. “Then, I’ll wait.”
“Really?” Robbie grinned, breaking his serious expression in an instant, and stuffed a tortilla into his mouth.
And just like that, Tess was off the market. The thought amused Cale.
The children perked up at the sound of a wagon pulling into the yard. Tess and the kids stood, so Cale joined them as they went outside. A man and a woman carrying a baby approached.
Dark-haired and still resembling the Mary Hart he’d known from his youth, she stopped short when she saw him. “Cale Walker?” A big smile lit her face. She hugged him, taking care with the babe in her arms.
“It’s good to see you, Mary.”
“Thank you so much for coming. And Molly—my Lord, how is she?” Her expression beamed with eagerness for news on the sister she’d thought dead for ten years.
“Very well. I know she looks forward to seeing you.”
“Mama, I’m Molly,” the little one said softly beside Tess.
“Of course you are, sweetheart.” Mary leaned down to hug her daughter. “I’m talking about your Aunt Molly.” She stood and turned to the man beside her.
“Cale,” Mary began, “this is my husband, Tom Simms.”
Cale shook Tom’s hand. “Good to meet you.”
“Same here,” Tom replied.
“You’ve met everyone else?” Tom added.
Cale nodded. “Except for the baby.”
Mary turned to show the infant’s face. “This is Evelyn.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“I need to put her down for a nap. But I look forward to catching up.”
Cale hesitated, then pulled the letter from his shirt pocket. “Molly wanted me to give this to you. It’s probably best if you read it alone.”
Worry crossed Mary’s face.
“It’ll answer questions about what happened ten years ago.” Cale was thankful for the missive; he had no desire to be the one to tell Mary about what had transpired since her younger sister, Molly, had shown up, alive and well, in Texas a few months back. A decade ago, the Hart homestead in north Texas had been attacked and Robert and Rosemary Hart murdered. One of their daughters, Molly, had been abducted by Comanche and subsequently killed —nailed to a tree with arrows and burned alive. Cale had been the one to find the nine-year-old’s body, charred beyond recognition. It was an image that had never left him. Molly’s gold cross was used to identify the remains, but it hadn’t been Molly after all, and her reappearance—after living for years with the Indians—had shocked everyone. Still more unsettling was learning the truth of Molly’s parentage—she and Cale shared the same father. It was that piece of information that Cale preferred Molly tell Mary herself, hence the letter.