A Leaf in the Wind

by Velda Sherrod

  From the top of the rise, she saw them stop. When they dismounted, she did the same, leading her horse into the cottonwoods. What were they doing here? If possible, she intended to find out before the weather drove her home. She didn't have long to wait. Three men dressed in military blues rode through the trees to join Patrick and Slim. The wind had increased, so she couldn't hear their words, but they appeared to be shouting at each other. After much gesturing, Patrick mounted and swung his horse around to leave. The soldiers rode stiffly in the opposite direction and were soon swallowed up by the trees. Slim was the last to ride out of sight.

  Back in the saddle, Elise knew she should go home. Her ears ached. Her toes were numb, her hands freezing, and even her nose hurt. But the desire to see where Patrick and Slim were headed became too great, and against her own, better judgment, she lagged far enough behind to stay out of sight. They traveled on and on, disappearing in a gully.

  Smoke from a sheepherder's cabin and the horses tied in front made it easy to spot their hideaway. When she got close enough, she tied her horse to a tree and crept to the window.

  The wind chose that time to loose the blizzard. Snowflakes swirled. Trees bent almost to the ground. And with a sinking heart, Elise knew she had waited too long. She had heard too many tales of people losing their way in an early season snowstorm.

  Better to be embarrassed, than frozen stiff. She edged around to pound on the door. "Lee Burke. Please let me in."

  Patrick opened the door, his pistol drawn, his astonishment almost comical. "What the hell are you doing here?"

  "Patrick! I'm so glad it's you. I got lost and saw the smoke from the chimney." Elise realized how ridiculous she sounded. "I must have traveled in the wrong direction when I left Frenchman's Crossing."

  He stared at her, his head cocked to one side, a sly smile playing about his mouth. "Is that so, Mrs. Burke. Which direction should you have chosen? East, west, south. North, maybe?" He dropped his gun back in its holster. "What kind of a game are you playing this time?"

  A tiny sound escaped her as he came toward her, and in spite of herself, she moved backward. "What are you talking about?"

  "Lee, my darling, you can't fool an old bull-shipper like your brother-in-law. Suppose you just set your beautiful little backside down on that stool and tell me what in bloody hell brings you here."

  "I told you I lost my way."

  His gaze was sharp and probing. "I don't believe you." He glanced over his shoulder. "You believe her, Slim?"

  "Doesn't matter," she said flippantly before Slim could answer. "At least I'll be warm."

  Slim's voice turned her in his direction. "If you cuff 'er, Pat, T.K.'ll beat hell out of both of us. Better just tie 'er up. We can be in Tascosa before anybody finds 'er."

  Patrick looked at him with contempt. "You're afraid of my brother. She doesn't know anything about what we're doing. And if she did, what difference would it make? It wouldn't mean anything to her."

  "T.K. won't believe she come here on 'er own." Slim darted a glance at the cabin's one window, already covered with snow. "He'll be out lookin' for her. Hell, he could show up any minute. What would we tell him?"

  Laughing, Patrick placed a palm under her chin, lifting her face. "You got it all wrong, Slim," he muttered smoothly. "What would his wife tell him?"

  He grinned down at her. "What would you tell him, pretty sister?"

  Elise jerked her head away. What could she tell T.K.? Once more her neck was in the noose. He'd never believe her. "None of your damned business. T.K. would want me to be safe."

  Patrick continued to taunt her. "You're shivering. Why don't you just sit down by our cozy fire and make yourself at home? Looks like we'll be here a while."

  With dismay, Elise realized the truth of his words.

  They could be cooped up there for two or three days. As long as they had wood for heat, they were in no danger. The cabin was sturdy, made of rock and adobe mud.

  She couldn't determine whether Patrick shared Slim's fear of T.K., but she knew T.K. would come looking for her. She sank to a stool near the fire. Her teeth had stopped their inclination to chatter. The cold centered in her breast.

  On one knee, Patrick knelt beside her. "Don't worry, Lee," he said in a voice heavy with humor. "He'll find you. How long do you think it will take?"

  Despite her determination, her temper flared and, with it, a hint of tears. "This is a terrible storm. I hope and pray he isn't out in it."

  Again his laughter. He placed a hand over his heart. "True love. Touches me right here."

  "You're despicable."

  Patrick chuckled and smoothed back her tangled hair. "I haven't exposed you to my brother. Haven't tried to take the boy. Didn't mess up your wedding. And I had absolutely nothing to do with your sneaky arrival here. What have I ever done to you, pretty woman?"

  Elise shook her head in protest. He reminded her of a snake ready to strike. "You're waiting for the right time."

  "Somebody's outside, Pat." Slim's words were barely out before the door burst open.

  "T.K." His name froze on her lips. She wanted to fling herself in his arms, but her legs wouldn't move.

  He filled the doorway, his broad shoulders made even wider by his buffalo hide jacket. His eyes met hers, raking over her and his brother kneeling beside her. Jealousy, pain, or a mixture of the two flickered across his face, then nothing, not even anger. Behind him, Mac MacCucheon balanced his hand above his gun.

  "Come in, brother, and close the door. You're letting in the snow." Patrick's lips curled in a smile. "I'm glad me and Slim happened along when we did, else your beautiful wife would have been in trouble."

  She wanted desperately to convince T.K., but the words sounded false in her own ears. "I was caught in the blizzard. As you can see, I wasn't dressed for it. I didn't intend to come so far." Her voice wavered, but not her eyes when they met his. "I'm glad you're here, T.K."

  He gave a short humorless laugh. "I'll bet. Are you saying you didn't know Pat was here?"

  She hesitated a second, then turned to stare into the fire. "I knew he was here." Her voice was low, almost a whisper, but they all heard.

  "Well, I'll be damned." Chuckling, Patrick grabbed his hat. "Slim, whiskey would be nice right now. Since we haven't got any, and these two need to talk, let's get out before the place goes up in smoke. Charlie Bascom has a place a few miles from here. We can hole up there."

  They opened the door, hunched against the biting wind, and cursing and pulling, forced the door closed behind them.

  T.K. continued looking at Elise, his gaze taking in her less-than-adequate clothing against the cold. "Juan saw you leave. When the weather changed and you hadn't come back, he got worried and rode out to tell us. We followed your tracks to Frenchman's Crossing, then took a chance you'd found the sheepherder's cabin." He gave her a wintry smile. "If we had known that you were meeting Pat, that he was here, we wouldn't have been in such a damned hurry to fight the storm."

  "I wasn't meeting Patrick. I was following him."

  She whirled to face him. "You have to listen"

  "I don't have to do anything, Lee," he said curtly.

  "Mr. Burke, think I'll see to the horses." Mac was already at the door. "The wind seems to have let up a little."

  T.K. nodded that he heard. When Mac had gone, he hurled the words at her. "Meeting, following what the hell's the difference? Whichever, you're a liar and a cheat."

  She felt the blood drain from her face. "I'm not. I thought that is, I suspected Patrick and Slim were up to something."

  "Did you now? And what did you think they might do? Start a stampede? Set the prairies on fire? Or maybe declare squatter's rights on this sheepherder's cabin? All before the storm blows itself out?" His hard green gaze slid over her in insolent appraisal. "So far you haven't convinced me that was your reason for being here."

  "You're determined to believe the worst," she said in a bleak, small voice.

  "I'm not a da
mn fool, Lee."

  "They met some soldiers a few miles from here."

  "So what? MacKenzie has directed his men to round up the Indians. They're turning over rocks looking for Comanche."

  "Grayhawk could get caught."

  "Yeah, MacKenzie especially wants Grayhawk. He expects every white man in the area to cooperate in locating him. You'll have to come up with a better story."

  "Then believe whatever you like," she said bitterly.

  "I want to believe something besides what I see-to make sense of it. I want to believe that you wouldn't betray your marriage vows, if not for me, then for the boy."

  "In your mind, you're so, so blasted right." She brushed angrily at tears rolling down her cheeks, and suddenly she was so furious that she flung herself at him. "Right all the time. About everything." She pounded his chest. "You think you know what's best for everybody."

  He let her pummel him, then grasped her hands. A slow mocking smile curled his lips. "Not for everybody, Lee. Just what's best for a baby. For Toddie."

  "How would you know? You're not his father."

  He caught her hard against him, his eyes blazing. The more wildly she struggled, the tighter he held her. He wouldn't believe her, and she fought him, with her hands, her feet, her writhing body. She cursed and swung at him until, at last realizing she might better have battled a stone wall, she sagged against him.

  Motionless, he held her, then forced her face up. After a long moment, he growled deep in his throat.

  "Will you always haunt me? Even when I see the lie in your eyes and hear it from your lips, I want you. I want to wake up in the morning with you beside me. To go to bed and hold you in my arms. I want to touch you in warm, intimate places and hear your soft woman sounds. And I want to bury myself inside you. That's what I want, Lee. But I have to believe in you." He put her away from him. "I don't know what you want. I'm not even sure that you do. Now I've got to get MacCucheon out of the cold before he freezes to death trying to stay out of the way."

  A savage gust of Arctic air mixed with snow hit her when he swung the door open. His shrill whistle seemed to go no farther than the step, but MacCucheon whistled back. Soon they stomped back in and headed for the fire.

  Mac's face was pinched and red. He managed not to meet her gaze. "I brought the Drum out of the brush. He's tied with the buckskin and my horse on the south side of the building. They're out of the wind."

  "I appreciate it," Elise murmured, feeling the threat of tears again. Her gaze went from Mac to T.K.

  T.K. squatted, placing more logs on the fire; then leaning back on his heel, he looked over his shoulder at her. "Lie down on the cot, Lee. We'll be here all night. The place should stay warm. You took quite a chance riding ahead of a blizzard." His expression was bleak. "Try to sleep."

  Elise did as she was told. It was her fault they were marooned in a sheepherder's cabin. Thank God, Patrick and Slim were gone. She closed her eyes, and at last she dozed, barely waking to murmur a thank-you when T.K. gently tucked his big jacket around her.

  Few words were spoken when they prepared to leave the next morning. Snow covered the ground; but the sky was clear, and the wind was calm.

  "Suppose I ride on ahead, Mr. Burke, and let the folks at the Lazy B know everybody'll be along soon?"

  T.K. waited until Mac had gone; then he directed his attention to Elise. His dark gaze locked with hers as he lifted his jacket to place on her shoulders. "You'll need a heavier coat. Wear mine."

  She turned her face up to his. For several seconds neither of them moved. "You'll need it."

  His mouth quirked. "You'll need it more."

  It's you I need, she wanted to shout. I love you. The unbidden thoughts made her tremble. How she longed to throw her arms around his neck and pour out her heart. Instead, she pivoted and walked outside to where Drum waited.

  She hooked a boot in the stirrup and swung into the saddle. When T.K. mounted, she asked the question uppermost in her mind. "What will you tell the Lazy B hands?"

  "The truth, Lee. Some of us are friendly with the word."

  "So am I."

  "But just a passing acquaintance. Right?"

  Hope died within her. "You jump to conclusions, so believe whatever you want."

  Grim and formidable once more, he brushed a hand over a two-day growth of stubble. "We married for Toddie's sake. Try to remember that."

  She lifted her chin. "I haven't forgotten."

  His sharp look said he didn't agree.

  Her heart heavy, Elise grappled with overwhelming sadness on the ride back to the ranch house. Events of the last two years came rushing back, each leading inexorably to that day. Suddenly, after so many days of indecision, of seesawing, she knew she would tell him but only when the time was right.

  Uneasiness gripped T.K. He leaned over the crib and ran a knuckle gently over Toddie's flushed cheek. "He's got a fever." He threw a questioning glance at Lee. Her eyes were cloudy with fear; her face was strained with fatigue. "Probably a cold."

  Toddie whimpered, his breathing tight and raspy. Lee patted him, then looked up at T.K. "He's been fussy for two days. He won't eat. His fever came up in the night and has stayed up all day. Now he's coughing."

  "You should have sent for me."

  She went on as if she hadn't heard. "Vesper put a poultice on his chest, but it didn't help. Now I don't know what to do." She started sobbing. "I don't think I could bear it if something happened to Toddie."

  T.K. confronted conflicting emotions. He had vowed to keep his distance, but how could he deny the agony in her eyes? She stared at him helplessly, hesitantly, silently begging him to help. "The first thing is to set water to boiling so we can have steam. It will ease his breathing." He started for the door. "I'll be back."

  Hours later, he fought down an overpowering despair. He had failed. The steam had helped, but not enough. Toddie lay quietly, his small face flushed. He coughed, but lacking strength, his spasms seemed only feeble attempts to breathe.

  For the hundreth time, T.K. replaced the cool cloth on the child's head. His gaze moved to Lee's ravaged face, and his anguish turned to desperation. "Lee, wrap him up good. We'll take him to Hy-Meadow. Well let the doctor make him well."

  "Should we take him out in the cold?"

  He refused to tell her they didn't have a choice. "We'll wrap him warmly."

  At the kitchen door, a horse and buggy waited for them. Mac stood nearby smoking a cigarette. "Vesper told me 'bout the baby being sick and all. Thought you might be needing the buggy unless you think Firebird would be faster."

  "Lee is too exhausted to ride horseback. We'll take the buggy."

  "I found the curtains for the buggy in the barn. There're heated rocks for your feet."

  T.K. nodded. How the hell had he been lucky enough to get a hand like MacCucheon? Pretty soon, he wouldn't be able to run the ranch without him.

  A few minutes later, they were on their way. Hy-Meadow seemed a long way off.

  T.K. urged the horse into a fast trot; then holding the reins in his left hand, he placed his other arm around Lee. "He's going to be fine. Doc will bring him around." God, how he hoped that would be true.

  "How long?"

  "Three hours. Maybe four, if there's much snow."

  Her small voice could barely be heard above the sound of the horse's hooves. It tore at his gut. ''Will that be soon enough?"

  "Yes." He spoke to her as he would a small child, with assurances that were as false as the hope in his heart. "Most children get sick sometime. Toddie's healthy."

  Grateful that the land was flat all the way into town, T.K. didn't allow the horse to falter. They had to hurry. He wouldn't permit himself to think of anything else. He glanced down at Lee and Toddie and automatically tightened his hold on her shoulder.

  She cried off and on, but by the time they arrived at the doctor's office, she was quiet. T.K. helped her down with the child. When she stumbled with weariness, he took Toddie from her, shifted
the tiny boy to one arm and guided her inside.

  T.K. relinquished his small burden. "Do for him, Doc. We've tried everything we know."

  The doctor motioned toward a bench. "Set the mother over there. She looks tuckered out."

  T.K. didn't argue when Lee shook her head. "We'll sit later, Doc."

  The doctor dismissed them with a nod and didn't look up from his examination for several minutes. "He's a sick boy. No doubt about that. Bad case of croup, plus some other complications. I've got a small room for such emergencies. You and your missus will have to take turns with him."

  "We'll both stay."

  "In that case, we'd better get started making him well."

  T.K. watched hope flare in Lee's eyes. She had hidden her panic. There were no more tears. And she was beautiful, even with the pain in her eyes and the dark shadows beneath. Whatever her fears, she hugged her lonely thoughts to herself. She threw him a despairing glance when Toddie cried out. T.K. opened his arms, and she walked into them.

  Another several hours, preoccupied with the tension of waiting and divided between circling the room and standing at the bed, they searched for signs of recovery in the small, inert body. The doctor chose not to comment, and T.K. was afraid to ask. One night came and went, and then another.

  He watched Lee hold Toddie's hand and whisper to him. Sometimes she crooned snatches of lullabies. There was a desperate weariness about her, a haunted look in her lovely eyes.

  When the doctor came in, T.K. drew her to one side. Together they waited, touching, needing the nearness of the other in case the news was bad.

  After several minutes, the doctor straightened up, grinning. "Well, now, folks, looks like you can relax. This little cowboy's tough. He's going to grow up and be bigger than his pa. You can take him home for convalescence, maybe even spoil him a little."

  T.K. growled his gratitude and swept Lee against him. She was frighteningly pale. He remembered to smile down at her. "We can stop worrying, honey." He smoothed a hand across her wet cheek. "Please don't cry anymore."