A Leaf in the Wind

by Velda Sherrod

  Darkness held the night tightly, not even a sliver of moon lighted the sky. As his eyes became accustomed to the dark, T.K. could barely see Mac's cold, hard profile. Like most cowboys, Mac's arms were bent and slightly away from his body.

  Unwilling to break the silence, T.K. pushed his horse to the limit. Pain, jealousy, and a perverse uncertainty had driven him to seek relief in Dusty Flats. Fear and regret drove him home. He berated himself for leaving his family unprotected, and his tortured soul cried for forgiveness.

  A cold sweat formed on his forehead. What would have happened if Mac hadn't found an empty chair in the poker game? T.K. remembered the smoky haze of Maggie's place and the dark-faced men gathered there.

  How much of a head start did the settlers have? Who was ramroding the attack on his place?

  Once he thought he heard voices, but decided it was the wind mocking his fears. At last, away from town and hidden by the darkness, he could no longer hold back his wrath. His rage erupted in low, savage curses, gaining in strength and volume until the air vibrated with his fury. He heaped abusive, angry threats on anybody and everybody who would hurt his wife or child. His enemies would experience torture to make the Comanche massacres look like child's play. No place on earth would be safe from his vengeance.

  Mac finally interrupted. "When you get through blazing a trail, we probably ought to stop and rest the horses. We've got a long five hours before we reach the north ridge."

  Working to stop his merciless tirade, T.K. growled his agreement. "There's a chance Boswell won't be at the ridge."

  "We have to find them, Mr. Burke. We'll never make it to the Lazy B without a change of horses. Besides, we need the riders with us."

  He hated the delay, and soon he became aware of the tightening of his muscles and the tension that burned and throbbed with each uneasy breath.

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  Elise watched the day come to an end. One more night that T.K. had chosen to stay away. Turning, she dropped the curtain back in place, picked up a shoe and aimed it at the bedpost. No excuse, no good-bye, no nothing.

  Loneliness drove her to Toddie's room. She lifted a curl off Toddie's forehead and was glad when he opened sleepy eyes and smiled at her.

  Cradling him, she crossed the room to the rocker and sat down. She brushed a finger down his soft cheek. "Suppose we just rock together for a little while, baby. You can go back to sleep if you want."

  She watched him yawn and close eyes so like T.K.'s, so like Patrick's. All their differences would be resolved one way or another, someday.

  Out of the night, she heard a sound, unfamiliar and frightening. Fear gripped her. A flash of light, voices, and more light. Rigidly, she gathered the sleeping child to her breast and walked to the window.

  A shape darted into the shadows of the barn. Another ran for the corral. And then there were more, many more, racing toward the outbuildings, the bunkhouse, the cookhouse, the well house, carrying torches and yelling at each other. God in heaven! They were setting fires.

  She placed Toddie back in his bed and covered him. Fleeing downstairs, she ran to the gun rack and moments later pointed the barrel of a rifle out the window. The blast from her gun knocked her out of her chair. It rattled dishes in the cupboard and brought in an aroused Vesper.

  "We's under seige. Reckin them tea leaves didn't lie after all."

  "The cowards are going to burn the place."

  Vesper moved hurriedly, her weighty body no handicap. She selected a gun, loaded it, and squatted beside Elise. "T.K. shore ain't gonna like them settin' fires."

  Sporadic shots hit near the window. The raiders seemed more interested in what they had come for than exchanging rifle fire with Elise and Vesper. It was as if they knew the women were alone, as if they had all the time in the world to turn the place into an inferno.

  Elise took a deep breath, expelled it, and aimed her gun. Thank God the Arabians and Drum were out in the pasture.

  Her mouth went dry. Where were Juan and Pablo? Immediately, she saw them huddled behind the corral fence.

  "Go back, go back," she whispered. And then they were running, out in the open sprinting for the corner of the house. A rifle shot tore a chunk out of the rail where they'd hunkered a few moments before.

  "They's determined, Lee. Them men. 'Fraid they're gonna do what they come for."

  "No, blast them." Elise fired as rapidly as she could reload. "And blast T.K. Burke wherever he is for not being here." Enraged, sobbing, brushing away tears that blurred her vision, she pointed her gun at anything that moved. ''He's probably in Dusty Flats with that woman while the house burns down."

  Vesper chuckled dryly. "We could use 'im."

  "If they fire the house, we'll have to run with Toddie."

  "Lee, jes' keep shootin'. The house ain't blazin' yet."

  Elise kept firing until her shoulder was numb, until her mind refused to function, and her clothes were drenched with perspiration. Still she loaded and fired. When greedy flames shot through the roof of the barn, illuminating the area, she saw men darting in and out of the shadows. She heard one voice above the others, mocking, laughing, cursing. Madmen, all of them. It would be only a matter of time until they put their torches to the main house.

  The sound was faint gathering in intensity, becoming a thundering of hooves; then without further warning, horses broke from the darkness.

  Shock raced through her like an icy tidal wave. Bareheaded, a gun in his right hand, T.K. bore down on the arsonists. Riding ahead of his men, he gestured and shouted direction. And from all points of the yard, they were met with withering gunfire.

  The clamor went on and on, the ringing sound of oaths, screams of downed horses, the whine of shots. Elise dropped her rifle and called to Vesper. In the flickering light and shadows, it was impossible to distinguish Lazy B riders.

  Time stretched to eternity. At last, T.K. rode out of the chaos, his arms raised for the men to hold their fire. Disaster had been averted. She smelled the acrid odor of smoke, heard the wind moaning around the eaves, and above it all, she heard Toddie's cry.

  She had been so frightened for T.K. that she was not conscious of her own tears until she reached Toddie's room. Toddie's small face was barely visible in the darkness. He held up his arms, and Elise staggered across the room to gather him to her breast. Then she crossed uncertainly to the rocker and sank into it, crooning vague, unmusical words.

  "Lee honey, it's over." Vesper spoke at her elbow, holding out a glass. "I brought this with me. It's a little hot, but jes' right for times like this. Let me take the little man. He's asleep. Reckin he needs to be in bed."

  Elise took the glass and allowed Vesper to lift the sleeping child. Maybe the drink would relieve her terrible weariness of mind and body. A moment later, she was gasping for breath. "I'm on fire."

  Vesper poured another. "Quick 'fore you lose your nerve."

  The second one was easier. Elise leaned back and closed her eyes. "Toddie needed me. Have you seen T.K.?"

  "That devil's fine. Still puttin' out fires." She clucked and smoothed Toddie's hair, before laying him in his bed. "Sometimes the fear is nigh as bad as the happenin', honey."

  Vesper quietly disappeared, and Elise was vaguely aware of another sound, the faint tinkling of spurs. Her eyes swam with tears. Her man had come. A ragged stubble shadowed his cheeks. He smelled of smoke and was streaked with soot. Across his forehead, blood oozed from a gash along his hairline. But he was alive.

  "Are you all right?" she asked tremulously.

  His arms went around her. "I'm fine, now that I know you're safe."

  "I was so scared."

  "Me, too," he murmured, his lips against her forehead.

  "Where were you? I was so sure they'd burn everything."

  "I came as soon as I heard."

  "You heard!" She drew away and glared at him. "Exactly who told you?"

  "Mac overheard some poker players."

  "And where were you? At
Maggie's Saloon?"

  His face gave gloomy acquiesence. "I had a few drinks there, but I had already gone to bed at the hotel by myself." He looked toward the window. "We lost the barn and two storage buildings. We were lucky it was no worse."

  She felt bruised and betrayed and so angry she thought she would burst with the fury of it. "You rode into the light where they could see you." She pressed her face into his chest. "You fool, you could have been killed."

  His arms went around her. "But I wasn't, honey. Nobody was." When he spoke again, there was anguish in his voice. "Thank God, nobody got hurt."

  "I was so afraid that everybody, that the Lazy B"

  "Try not to think about it, sweetheart."

  Elise tried to stop her sobbing. T.K. was there with her, safe, and she was in his arms. The nightmare was over. She stirred, meeting his gaze and searching for a reason for the night's horror. "Why?"

  "Some Indians massacred two settler families up on the high plains near Medders. They're blaming Grayhawk."

  "Then why"

  "They're saying that if I let the Indians get hungry enough they'll move to the reservation." He nudged a tear from her cheek, then pointed to the bed. "Better sit. You look too tired to stand."

  Her anger flared again. "Why did you ride out so they could shoot at you?"

  T.K. held her possessively, all the while smiling. Gently, he pressed her backward until the backs of her legs touched the bed. Then in one quick movement, he lifted her and placed her on the bed. He sank down beside her, a hand on either side of her body. His hard thigh moved against her, and his big hand roved slowly over her breasts. His eyes met hers, heating her with the searing green fire of his gaze. His whisper caressed her cheek.

  "Lee honey, I had to stop them from shooting at you, from setting fire to our home."

  "I was so afraid for you." She took his face between her hands, her voice achingly soft. "They could have killed you."

  "Not with my wife pointing a deadly rifle at them."

  Their lips touched, lingered, savored, and a muffled growl of pleasure escaped from deep inside him. He lifted his head. Warmth and humor and an underlying bitterness accompanied his words. "Hard to put out all the fires in one night."

  Still he didn't move from above her. His features were strained. Soot and dust followed the lines of fatigue in his face. He was exhausted. She wanted to hold him in her arms and comfort him.

  "I was so mad and so scared. I shot at shadows."

  He chuckled. "Juan said you scared hell out of the settlers."

  Her hand moved of its own will, drifting up his arm to the bunched bicep. "I didn't take time to aim at anybody."

  "They didn't know that."

  "I think I killed a man." The enormity of her admission overwhelmed her. Her voice filled with agony. "I fired and heard a groan."

  "No, sweetheart. Nobody was killed. One man was wounded. Putnam got a slug in the leg. Several got away. One of the twins I don't know which one since I can't tell them apart rode into Hy-Meadow for the sheriff."

  Twice, he had called her sweetheart. She smiled and he grinned back, lighting his gaunt features. Inexplicably, a lump formed in her throat, and she felt close to tears again. "I'm glad the Lazy B is safe."

  "You were brave. You kept them from burning our home." He stroked a tendril from her forehead, then ran his fingers down the column of her throat. "A lot of women would have cowered in the storm cellar."

  She was mesmerized by the velvet tenderness in his voice. "It's probably a good thing I never thought of it."

  "Sleep late in the morning. I should be back at headquarters by middle of the afternoon." He buried his face in the curve of her neck and shoulder. "Maybe sooner." He kissed her and a few minutes later she heard him stop at Toddie's door, then came the sound of his spurs as he walked to his own room.

  She lay a while staring at the ceiling. His eyes had held a promise. Torn between excitement and dread, she tried to sleep.

  Elise awoke slowly, trying to remember why that morning was different. The fire! Of course. She could still smell the smoke. From the window, she could see where the fire had destroyed the barn and several smaller buildings. She regretted having overslept. T.K. would be gone.

  She dressed and was downstairs and in the kitchen before Vesper knew of her presence. Toddie held out his spoon, then turned it so the food splattered to the floor. He laughed gleefully. With a smile, she directed Toddie's attention back to his plate.

  How long had T.K. been gone, she wondered. How long before he got back?

  "T.K. said to tell you he'd be a-ridin' in early. Seemed happy enough, considerin' the whole place near burned down."

  Elise knew Vesper watched her, no doubt looking for clues to read into her tea leaves. "In a lot of ways, we were lucky. Did T.K. say where he was going?"

  Remembering the previous night, she shied away from thoughts of what was sure to happen the coming night. A quivering started somewhere in her midsection.

  "That man's got enough on his mind. He could be anywhere." Vesper wiped Toddie's face with a damp cloth. "I promised the little man the first pretty day I'd take him to play with Bernadette's little girl. Cruz and Juan left early this mornin' gunnin' for coyotes north of the ridge, so Bernadette will welcome some company. Why don't you find somethin', like paintin' or drawin', to do?"

  Elise walked to the window overlooking the corral. "I've been wanting to paint the Arabians. They're in the close pasture and the light is right. Maybe it will take my mind off last night."

  "A good idea, but it's gonna be hard to forget the fire, honey. That ole barn still smokin'."

  Vesper put a jacket and cap on Toddie. "Kiss yore mama, boy."

  With a smile and a wave, Elise blew a kiss and watched them leave. Back in her room, she gazed about her. Along the wall with pictures of buffalo and cattle, T.K., Vesper, and Grayhawk stared back at her. A sketch of Toddie nestled between T.K. and Patrick. It had been important to see which man the baby most resembled. She had captured the tenderness in T.K.'s smile and matched it with Toddie's innocent laugh. Only Toddie's eyes were reminiscent of Patrick. She had carefully avoided any other feature of Toddie's that might be suggestive of his father.

  She gathered up her supplies, easel, paints, brushes, and the folding stool T.K. had bought from an itinerant peddler. Once in the daylight, a brisk 30-minute walk put her in a secluded shadow of the mesquites, where she could study and marvel at the sleek-bodied racers. Nearby, Drummer bent his head to snip at the grass. She set up her stool and prepared her easel. She became so absorbed that the riders were almost even with her before she noticed them. Then their voices drew her attention.

  "Fast as they are, these beauties will get us there with time to spare." Patrick's words carried easily to where she sat. "Right sporting of my brother to have them so dose to the house."

  Slim snorted. "He always keeps them close. Your brothers gonna be mad as hell when they're gone."

  "It'll be too late by then. We'll have the word to MacKenzie before Grayhawk can break camp. We'll take our payoff and get out of the state. Maybe go up to Montana or the Wyoming Territory."

  "What about the horses?"

  Patrick laughed. "What about 'em?"

  It required several minutes for their words to make sense. Patrick and Slim knew of Grayhawk's hiding place in the canyon and needed fast horses to get word to Col. MacKenzie. Anger poured through her like molten lava. "Leave them alone, you horse thieves."

  Startled, Patrick looked in her direction. His voice grew heavy with amusement. "Look, Slim. It's my sister-in-law pointing a righteous finger.

  "Aren't you being a little hypocritical, Mrs. Burke, considering your own position?" He threw his saddle over the stallion's back and tightened the cinch. "It won't do you any good to follow us. This time, you'll need something faster than old Drum."

  Patrick mounted and motioned for Slim to follow. Chuckling, he gave a negligent wave as they rode through the gate. "Good-bye
, Mrs. Burke. Regards to my brother."

  God, what could she do? Somebody needed to warn Grayhawk that the soldiers were on their way. Where was T.K.? She didn't have time to search for him or to send anyone to take a message to him. Already Patrick and Slim had a head start. T.K. had promised to come in early. Prowling the room from door to window, she decided to give him time.

  Of one thing she was certain, Drum's endurance would outlast the Arabians. She had a day and night to get to Grayhawk's camp. Time enough to prove it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Elise paced the floor. She had to find Grayhawk before Patrick reached MacKenzie's camp. A picture lodged in her mind of Grayhawk dead, injured, locked in a pen on the reservation. She couldn't let herself think about it; she needed her wits about her.

  She looked longingly at the bedroom door, willing T.K. to walk through. Tears of frustration slid down her cheeks. Damnation! Where could he be? What good was it to have a husband who wasn't around when she needed him? If he would just show up, she could hand the problem over to him, let him decide what to do. Ridiculous thought. She knew what he'd do if he were in her boots. He'd ride hell-bent-for-leather to outmaneuver Patrick and warn Grayhawk.

  Her agitation grew, along with it the number of obstacles she'd have to face. She wasn't sure she could find the Indian camp, and if she did locate it, she'd have trouble picking Grayhawk's lodge out of all the others. If an arrow didn't find her first, she'd be hard pressed to explain her presence when she couldn't speak the language. She pressed a palm to her forehead. There was so little time.

  From out of nowhere, the nub of an idea zinged into her consciousness. The Comanche dress!

  Turning quickly to the chest, she opened a drawer and lifted the garment out of its wrappings. All thumbs, she unbuttoned her shirtwaist and tossed it toward the bed. The shift was next. Stripped to her camisole and drawers, she pulled Efram's wedding gift over her head and smoothed it down past her knees. Buttery soft, the dress accommodated her body perfectly, but it had to do more than fit. She had to look like a Comanche maiden.