Chase the Wind

by Cindy Holby - Wind 01 - Chase the Wind

  Ian arrived at the boardinghouse on Jenny’s heels and carried his wife up to their room. Elizabeth followed behind, wringing her hands. He carefully laid Faith on the bed and sat down on the edge, taking her hand in his. Faith was still unconscious, but restless, her face pale.

  “Jenny, tell me what happened.”

  “That woman grabbed Momma and started talking to her,” she managed to get out, her voice shaky as she wiped tears away with the back of her hand.

  “Think carefully, Jenny. What woman?” Ian asked, his voice steady and calm.

  Jenny took a deep breath. “Miriam. Momma called her Miriam. Who was she?”

  Ian felt a shiver go down his spine. “Go and wait for your brother. Send the doctor up here when he comes.”

  “Is the baby dead?” Jenny asked as she took a step closer. Ian held out his arms and she flew into them. He smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead.

  “Please just go and wait for your brother,” Ian said gently. She turned and left the room just as they heard the pounding of feet up the stairs. Elizabeth stopped Jamie at the door, and the doctor came up behind him and entered.

  “Go downstairs and wait with your sister,” Elizabeth said to the boy. Jamie looked over Elizabeth’s head as Ian stood up. Jamie saw the doctor raise his mother’s skirts, and he turned and ran down the stairs, past Jenny and out the back. Jenny followed as usual, right behind him.

  Ian found them later up in the old tree that had been their sanctuary since they had discovered they could climb it. He had to shake his head as he watched Jenny scramble down, her skirts tucked up into her waist. In his head he heard Faith saying that she came by it honestly, remembering the oak tree that grew outside her own bedroom window.

  “Your mother is going to be all right,” he began when they were standing in front of him, both sets of deep blue eyes moist from the tears they had been trying to hide. “But she lost the baby, and she’s very upset.”

  “Who was that woman?” Jamie began. “The things she said . . .” Jamie and Jenny had discussed the event in depth and could make no sense of it at all. Ian looked at his children as they stood there before him, both on the verge of adulthood, both having been sheltered in a loving home. He took them into the kitchen and sat them down at the table.

  “Your mother’s family did not approve of me,” he began.

  “Was that woman family?” Jenny interrupted. Ian took her hand in his from across the table.

  “That woman was your mother’s stepmother. She married the man we thought was your real grandfather, after your real grandmother died. Do you understand?” Both twins nodded, their eyes wide, their faces pale. “They wanted your mother to marry a man named Randolph Mason. I met your mother when I worked for his family.” Ian looked at his children to make sure they were following the story. “On the night before they were to marry, your mother ran away, and I found her. Mason chased us, and we fought before your mother and I got away. Your mother shot him in the shoulder to keep him from strangling me.”

  “Momma shot a man?” Jamie asked. He could not picture his mother with a gun in her hands.

  “She did, to save me,” Ian answered. “Apparently, the man Faith thought was her father owed a lot of money and was hoping that Mason would get him out of debt, in exchange for her hand in marriage.”

  “But Momma loved you instead,” Jenny said.

  “Yes, she did.” Ian ran his hands through his hair to shove back the locks that had fallen over his eyes. Jenny got up from her chair and put her arms around his neck.

  “Dad, I hope I marry someone like you,” she said. Ian pulled her into his lap and held her tight.

  “You can’t,” Jamie said. “I’m just like him, and you can’t marry me because I’m your brother.” Jenny gave her brother an exasperated look from the shelter of her father’s arms.

  “I think what she means is that she wants to marry a man who will love her the way I love your mother,” Ian explained to his son. He hoped desperately that he did so without smiling too much at Jamie’s innocence. Jenny nodded in agreement.

  “You’d better hope that you can marry someone who can shoot,” she added. “You’ll probably need someone to save your life, too.” Ian had to laugh at that.

  “Do you think Mason will try to find Momma now?” Jamie asked.

  “It’s been fifteen years. Surely the man has gotten on with his life by now,” Ian reassured them.

  Jamie was not so sure. His father hadn’t seen the woman, or seen the fear in his mother’s eyes before she fainted.

  Elizabeth came into the kitchen wiping away her tears. “She’s asking for you.” Ian kissed Jenny on the forehead and rose from his chair.

  “Can we go too?” Jamie asked.

  Elizabeth put her hand on his shoulder. “Let’s leave them alone for now.” Ian had already gone up the stairs.

  Faith was dressed in a gown and propped up on the pillows when he reached their room. The doctor had finished up and left her with instructions to stay in bed the rest of the week. Ian sat down on the edge of the bed, took her hand in his and looked into her pale blue eyes. Her eyes were lifeless, and the person who was Faith seemed far, far away.

  “Faith?” Ian lowered his head until his eyes were inches from hers, their noses practically touching. She was looking beyond him. “Faith?” he repeated, firmer this time. “Don’t let them win.”

  Faith sucked in a shuddering breath; her eyes began to focus. She saw Ian before her and sobbed.

  “The baby’s gone?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “What was it?”

  “A girl. She never drew a breath, she was too little.” Ian’s hair fell down over his eyes again, and Faith felt it brush against her forehead. Her face crumpled in pain, and Ian pulled her close as sobs began to rack her body. He held her until she could cry no more, her grief giving way to exhaustion. Ian lay down next to her and held her in his arms as she slept.

  The next day, Faith insisted on going to the cemetery for the burial of the baby girl. She leaned heavily on Ian as the tiny coffin was placed in the ground next to Elizabeth’s husband and son. The twins were solemn, neither saying a word. Jamie took his mother’s other arm as they turned to leave the cemetery.

  When he had his family back safe at the boardinghouse, Ian left to see if he could find Miriam. He asked at every hotel and stage depot in town, but no one had heard of her. He finally decided that she was part of the endless stream of settlers heading west and decided to think no more about her. When Faith was strong enough to travel, he took his family home.

  Faith was melancholy for a while after they settled back into their life. Ian did everything he could to cheer her up, but there were times when he would come upon her unexpectedly and catch her crying. He would hold her close, his hands caressing her silky hair, and she would sob into his shoulder. She could never tell him what she was crying for; she never knew herself—she was just sad. Ian knew deep inside that she was worried about Mason coming after them.

  Ian was also determined that he wasn’t going to give up everything he had worked so hard for on the chance that their old tormentor might come. He was going to stand his ground. If and when Mason came, he would fight him. He would not let his family live under the shadow of that fear. It had been fifteen years; surely the man had moved on with his life. Still, every time he saw Faith cry, he wished he had killed the man when he’d had the chance.

  Amazingly, it was Jenny who helped her mother return to her old self. As winter came on, Jenny began to blossom. She had always been straight as a stick, with legs as long as Jamie’s, but with the snow came a new softness about her. She began to develop curves, and Jamie was always looking at her as if he didn’t recognize her. She also began to take an interest in doing things with her mother. They spent a lot of time in the kitchen, where Faith passed on the cooking skills that Elizabeth had taught her. They would talk and laugh about silly things, and they began to share a friend
ship that was beyond the mother-daughter bonds. Jenny started taking pride in preparing special treats for the men of her family, and they all began to look at her in a new light.

  Jamie also began to change over the winter. His voice was deepening, much to the amusement of his family. He had always read to them in the evenings as they sat by the fire, but now it became a game as they waited for his voice to crack on the words. He would peer at them over the top of the book while they dissolved into fits of laughter at some particular squeak he had emitted. He would wait with the patience of a saint until the giggles subsided, then continue like a professor with an unruly class. He was also growing wider and more muscular with the hard work of keeping the ranch going. He became the image of his father as the winter passed, from his wide shoulders right down to his rock-hard stomach and slim hips. He even had Ian’s unruly hair, which always managed to fall down in his eyes when he was trying to read or work on something that required a lot of attention.

  He had developed a deep interest in learning how to shoot well, and was thrilled with his Christmas gift from Ian, a Colt revolver and holster. He spent hours shooting at empty cans lined up on a fallen tree.

  Jenny followed along with him on these outings, still dressed in Jamie’s hand-me-down pants, and would practice using Ian’s revolver. She soon became good at hitting targets, both stationary and moving, but she knew she would never be as fast as Jamie. Ian was surprised that Faith never got upset over all the shooting and gunplay the twins were now involved in; but instead she seemed quite happy that they could now defend themselves and she would come out and watch their latest trick shooting.

  When spring finally came to Iowa territory, Ian and Faith felt as if they had watched two butterflies emerge from their cocoons. Jamie was now taller that Ian and had a quiet strength about him that was amazing. Even Storm sensed the difference in him, and would respond to his commands as quickly as he did to Ian’s. Ian watched him work the stock with the pride of knowing that all the Duncan horse magic had passed on to his son, tempered with the gentleness of his mother.

  Then there was Jenny. Every time Ian looked at her, she took his breath away. She moved with the grace of a dancer and glowed with a golden beauty that was all her own. She was tall and slim, with just the right amount of curves. She had a perfectly oval face, wide, deep blue eyes that a man could drown in, and golden blond hair that hung in waves down to her hips. Ian knew it would have to be a very special man to win her heart; he prayed that he would be around to protect her from the ones who would want to break it.

  Spring also brought bad news to the family. Word came from St. Jo that Elizabeth was very ill. The Duncans hastily packed their bags and took off for the city, but arrived too late; Elizabeth had died the night before. Ian arranged for her burial in the cemetery with her husband, son and the Duncans’ baby girl. Faith grieved heavily for the woman who had been her only true friend, but comforted herself with the idea that Elizabeth would now take care of her lost daughter, along with the two little boys who were buried in the church yard at home. As soon as the service was over, the family returned home; there was too much work to be done in the spring to spend much time away.

  It was amazing how much had changed in just the few days the family had been gone. Spring was coming out all over the prairie. All the flowers and trees were in bloom, and the fields were full of newborn calves and foals. The family made it home just as dusk was settling in. Jenny and Jamie bolted from the buckboard to see if there were any newborns in their own barn. Faith began to fuss at them because they were still dressed in their good clothes, but Ian stopped her by putting a finger to her lips as he helped her down from the wagon.

  “Let them go. Their clothes will wash,” he said as he pulled her into his arms. They stood in the gathering darkness and listened to the excited chattering of the twins. Jenny had heard kittens in the loft and was calling to Jamie to bring a lantern so they could find them in the gloom. A soft glow soon filtered through the slits in the barn, and they heard Jamie climbing up the ladder in haste.

  “And who do you propose to do this washing?” Faith asked him pertly as they listened to the oohs and aahs coming from the loft.

  Ian was glad that Faith was not dwelling on Elizabeth’s passing. “I volunteer to do some washing, but I’m not interested in washing clothes,” he said with a flash of his boyish grin.

  “And what do you propose to wash?” Faith was flirting outright with him, and Ian felt the familiar tightening in his loins.

  “Everything I can get my hands on,” he replied and pulled her close for a kiss. Faith felt her world spinning, as she always did when he kissed her. She leaned heavily into him and let him have his way with her mouth, his hands pressing her into his hips. He finally pulled away and leaned his forehead down on hers. Faith looked up at the devilish glint twinkling in his deep blue eyes.

  “I’d better fix us something to eat,” she said.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “They will be.” She inclined her head towards the barn, then let her eyes slide down the front of him and settle on the obvious bulge in his pants. “You can eat later,” she said pointedly and turned to go into the house. As she reached the porch she gave him another look that took his breath away. Ian decided then and there that bedtime was coming early for everyone that night. The sooner he got the chores done, the sooner he could retire.

  Faith went into the house to fix a quick supper for the family, and Ian turned to the business of unhitching the buckboard. He noticed that Storm seemed unduly agitated. At first he had thought that it was just the excitement of the family returning home, but then he decided that something else was bothering the stallion. He would restlessly dance about the corral, then stop, facing the darkness with his ears pricked. Ian whistled for him to come, thinking perhaps there was some wild animal stalking out in the brush beyond the yard. Storm came immediately to his master, but was still watching beyond the boundaries of the corral. Ian talked to the animal in soothing tones, hoping to calm him, but Storm just twitched his ears and tail and pawed the ground with his hoof. The animal suddenly danced away with a snort, and Ian realized that a rider was coming up the drive. Ian went over to light the lantern that hung by the barn door just as Faith stepped outside on the porch to call the family in for dinner. She came out into the yard when she realized they had company.

  The man on horseback rode up to the corral and casually dismounted. It wasn’t until he stepped around his horse and into the circle of light that Ian realized he was face to face with Randolph Mason. The years had changed the man, that much was obvious. He was leaner now, the once soft features harder and sharper. The look of rich boredom had been replaced with a callous cruelty around the eyes and mouth, and everything he wore was emblazoned with his initials, even down to the leather inlays in his boots. Ian felt a shiver run down his spine as the man stepped into the glow from the lantern, and he regretted he was not wearing his gun. It was under the seat of the buckboard, too far away to do him any good right now. Ian saw Faith stop in her tracks, her hands over her mouth as she realized who it was. Her eyes went to the barn behind Ian where she knew the twins were still engrossed in the kittens. Ian caught her eye as Mason spoke.

  “I had given up on finding you, Duncan.” The voice was pure evil.

  “Why did you?” Ian asked. He needed to buy some time. He prayed that Jamie had heard the rider and would investigate before coming out of the barn. Faith was behind Mason and could perhaps signal him to bring out the rifle that was kept there for emergencies.

  “I came for what you stole from me,” Mason drawled. His fingers tickled the handle of the pistol strapped to his hip. “Lucky for me that Miriam saw you. Do you know how much money I’ve spent trying to track you down? I’ve hired people from Richmond all the way to California to look for you. I had to spend a pretty penny to get your location from her, but it was worth it.” A look of pure glee came over him. “Of course, I made sure she won’t
be able to enjoy it.”

  “You are out of your mind,” Ian ground out. He knew he shouldn’t agitate the man, but he could not help it. Mason was crazy—he knew no boundaries and he felt no guilt. Ian saw that Faith, behind Mason, was stricken with terror. She kept looking at Ian, then looking up to the loft above his head. There was no sign of the children. She alternated between praying that they would stay hidden and hoping that Jamie would have the presence of mind to put a gun on Mason.

  Mason began to laugh at Ian’s statement. Ian stole a look at the buckboard, counting the paces. He was running out of time. His eyes went back to Mason and he saw him draw his gun. Ian felt his life go into slow motion. He dove towards the wagon, and heard Faith’s screams beyond the blood pounding in his ears. He saw her as she rushed towards Mason, the impact of her body sending the bullet into the air.

  Ian rolled away from the shot and gathered himself into a crouch. The buckboard was still out of his reach. He watched as Mason landed a fist on Faith’s jaw and she fell into a heap on the ground. Ian dove again as Mason fired once more, willing his body to reach the safety of the buckboard where he could get his hands on his gun. Behind him in the barn he heard a crash as the bullet penetrated the wood of the barn, then bloodcurdling screams—it had to be Jamie—rising in the night air.

  Mason fired again as Ian was in midair, and the bullet caught him in the spine, flipping him over on his back. The next bullet hit his chest before he landed on the ground. He could feel nothing below his shoulders. His blood was pumping out of his chest and beginning to pool on the ground around him. He heard the furious cries of Storm from the corral, and the screams of his children above that.

  Ian watched helplessly as Mason hauled Faith up beside him. She began to scream when she saw Ian on the ground, covered with blood. Mason slapped her and dragged her, kicking and screaming, into the house. The screams from the barn had stopped, replaced by a sob from Jenny and a moan from Jamie. Ian wondered how his son could be alive after all those screams. From the house he heard the cries and protests of Faith, along with the crashing of furniture. Tears gathered in Ian’s eyes and ran down his face. He couldn’t move anything, his life’s blood was pouring out of him onto his land, his wife was being attacked by a madman, and his children were hurt. He heard the furious cries of Storm in his corral, the stomping on the ground and the horse racing around the pen. He heard the stallion gather himself and felt the impact on the ground beneath his head when Storm cleared the fence and landed in the soft dirt. Co on, go free before he gets you too, Ian thought.