Comanche Haven (The Loflin Legacy: Book 1)

by Catherine Wolffe

  “We gotta do what we can. Time’s a wastin’.” Jake settled near her on the edge of the bed as he cleaned and oiled Seth’s gun in the shadowed light of the oil lamp. “Remember how to use this, right?”

  Celia nodded. “You taught me well, Jake. I haven’t forgotten all the patience and tin cans we went through.”

  He grinned. “You were a good student. Probably got yourself one of them derringers you keep in your reticule, don’t cha’?”

  She flashed him a quick, thin grin. “Well of course. My instructor told me a lady must always be prepared.”

  Jake’s weathered face broke into a smile. Giving her a wink, he took her teasing in stride. “Don’t go reminding me of my own words, girl. I know what I said.” Laying the gun on the nightstand, he turned to her and patted her leg, “Just wanted to know if you remembered them too.”

  Reaching out, Celia took Jake’s hand in hers and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “You were my protector all those years ago and I never got the chance to thank you. I never forgot, though.”

  His eyes traced the contours of her face and he gave her a grunt in reply. “You were in a tight spot. It was the proper thing to do.”

  “Proper knows when to offer assistance to a lady disembarking from a carriage. You went past proper. Stepping up like you did to save me. Without thought for your job or your life, Jake, that’s not proper, that’s selfless and courageous. I never got a chance to thank you, Jake.”

  “You’re welcome, girl. Glad I was able.” He paused and considered their joined hands. “Does he know the real reason you left?”

  The smile slipped from her face. “No.” Her lashes cast shadows over the trouble in her eyes. “I haven’t been able to tell him yet.”

  Jake let out a muffled whistle. “You married the man and didn’t explain why you had to leave and break his heart?”

  With a mutinous set to her lips, she didn’t meet Jake’s gaze. “I…didn’t break his heart. He broke mine. I never heard from him after I left, well, except for my letters that were returned.” Her laugh was brittle. “I’ve done one better, Jake. I accused him of breaking my heart. How was I to know his father would block my attempts at contacting him?” Looking woefully at the bed, she shook her head. “And, now, well, we…we haven’t had a chance to talk about it.” Her lashes came up and she gave him a fleeting look mired in guilt. “Things are complicated.”

  “Don’t you think it’s time you uncomplicated them and set the record straight, Celia.” His paternal tone weighted the air between them.

  “I know you’re right.” Looking out at the ever-decreasing light as the sun disappeared over the horizon, she nodded in agreement. “It’s past time.” Smiling once more for her old friend, Celia nodded. “Don’t worry, I will – as soon as he wakes.”

  Jake gave her forehead a kiss and headed out.

  ***

  Celia leaned back in an oversized armchair that sat by his bed. When it was clear that she wouldn’t leave his side, the larger overstuffed chair had replaced the brocade parlor chair. Jake and the men had left an hour before. She and Maggie along with Joseph, Casey and a guard were all that remained to watch out for Seth.

  His pale, bandaged face showed signs of bluing where the bullet had nicked his temple. His pulse was weak. There had been a lot of blood. How much he had lost due to the wound she could say. Now he was running a fever. Until it broke, he wasn’t out of the woods. Even then, there was no telling what condition he would wake up in, if he woke at all.

  Exhaustion had her slumping back in the chair, her fear taking its toll. Had she been able to remove the bullet with the proper instruments, with the proper antiseptic she would have rested easier? Was it enough? Would he pull through?

  Relying on what she’d been taught, she’d performed the removal of a bullet from a man’s scalp. Thank goodness it hadn’t lodged in his skull. That would’ve been like a death sentence. Doc Wheeler had observed as she removed the lead. Celia opened her eyes, watching as he slept. His brain, bruised, needed time to heal. Time – he needed time. She said a silent prayer for them both.

  ***

  Horses! Galloping, chasing her! The sound of hoofs pounding on hard packed earth grew louder. She had to run! Then the sound of Ty’s voice stopped her. Turning she looked at her brother-in-law. “Where are you going, Celia?”

  She opened her eyes. Blinking, she took in the room. Seth rested in the great four-poster with a light sheen of perspiration covering his brow. The horses were gone. Getting up, she realized she’d been dreaming, but when she continued to hear Ty’s voice, she searched the room. No one else was there. Moving to the balcony, she looked down and saw Sheriff Cole surrounded by a group of men. The sheriff dismounted and spoke to Charles. Their voices were low but she could see the tension in their faces. It was impolite to eavesdrop so she decided to go down and find out exactly what was going on for herself. Placing another cool cloth on her husband’s brow, she checked his pulse before going downstairs.

  “The word we got was that Brannon’s in Mexico taking custody of a group of prisoners.” Cole addressed Ty and the others.

  “Well how could he be in two places at once?” Gawkers had moved in to get a better listen. One of them interjected at that point.

  Sherriff Cole scowled at the drunken miner as well as the others who’d gathered. “You people go on about your business.” He looked then toward Ty, Charles and Celia, who’d slipped out the front doorway and now stood beside her brother-in-law. Reaching out, he offered her his arm and turned with a nod for the others to follow them to the jailhouse. Briskly, crossing the street, he took them back into his office, shutting the door behind them soundly.

  With eyes serious as could be, Cole surveyed the small group. “We’ll have to send a wire to Austin to find out exactly where the Ranger went. If he was, in fact, in Mexico during the gunfight, then we could have an even bigger problem on our hands.” Cole glanced out the window of his cramped quarters before turning to sit in his desk chair. Pausing, he leaned back in his chair and slipped his thumbs in his watch pockets, “An imposter.”

  Celia stepped forward. “Sheriff Cole?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Cole offered her a benign face.

  “Are you saying that the man who shot my husband isn’t a Texas Ranger?”

  “That’s what we’re checking on. The authorities in Austin will send a physical description of Brannon. When that comes in over the wire and the proof of Brannon’s location during the time in question is verified, we’ll know who we’re dealing with.”

  Celia looked then at the Sheriff. “Texas Ranger or not, Brannon shot my husband in the middle of your town without provocation. Isn’t gun-fighting illegal? Why haven’t you already gone after him?”

  Sherriff Cole absorbed her expression of disbelief with a benign expression. Sidestepping her concern over his procedures, he effectively ignored her by changing the subject. “I’d like to speak to you, Mrs. Loflin, about the man that you had words within the mercantile the other day.”

  “How did you know about that?”

  “I have my ways. You got a good look at him, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I did, but I don’t understand. If the man that shot Seth wasn’t Brannon, then who is he? You still haven’t answered my question. What difference does it make whether he’s a Texas Ranger or not. He gunned down a man in your town.”

  “That’s what we need to find out. If he’s impersonating a Texas Ranger, he’ll hang.”

  Fire leapt into her eyes. “What will happen to him if he is a Texas Ranger? Nothing,” Her tone was accusing.

  Cole didn’t defend his actions. Instead, he turned to Charles. “I’ll need volunteers for a posse.”

  Anger surged through her at the dismissal. There would be no justice here, not for her or Seth.

  She gritted her teeth, before whirling to leave. A good slam of the door punctuated her exit. The gunfight had happened so quick there had been no time to consider right
and wrong. She understood completely, now, why Jake and the men had slipped out early that morning. Something was clouding the Sheriff’s judgment and she didn’t like it. Not one little bit. Justice needed serving and she knew how.

  Climbing the stairs to the room, Celia considered the possibilities. Leaning against the door to the honeymoon suite, she closed her eyes. The possibility that the shooter wasn’t who he pretended to be didn’t change the fact that he’d tried to kill Seth, but why – to take her? It made sense. Hadn’t Brannon been yelling about her being government propriety? Rumors apparently ran rampant regarding Brannon’s involvement with slave trading and Indian women. So Seth had tried to warn her. She needed to take heed. Somehow, she would have to prove it. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light of her husband’s sickroom as she walked over to stand beside his bed once more.

  Her husband – she’d brought him nothing but pain and suffering for his efforts. He’d given his solemn vow to protect her and was paying a very high price for it now. Would he want her so badly after this?

  Darkness descended over the land. Restless and uneasy, Celia paced the confines of the room. There’d been no word from Jake and the men from Shooter Creek. As far as she knew, Brannon and his men were still at large. Their disappearance hung like an ugly fog over the safety of everyone involved. She had to stay put and take care of Seth, but her mind raced with the danger that lurked in the shadows. The Texas Rangers had the authority to apprehend the Comanche any way they could. She knew without a doubt that Broken Horse and Red Bear were in danger. While both of them were out there somewhere, neither of them knew the trouble they faced. She might be in danger as well, but if she could just get word to them. Trying not to lose hope, not to succumb to the despair that was worming its way into her conscious, she stared hard out the window. With her arms wrapped around her chest, her mind drifted to a time long past and she saw Seth’s reflection looking back at her. He was younger but the blue eyes and the devil-may-care grin were still the same.

  “Celia, don’t worry, I’ll be back.” His steely blue eyes bore into hers out of his youth filled face. “Remember the hill overlooking the Creek where we’ve spent so much time?” His grin was fresh and addicting. “When I get home, we’ll find a spot up there to build a house.”

  She nodded with a trembling smile. Their time together that fateful summer was almost over.

  “Don’t forget, you promised me lots of kids.” His wicked grin flashed. “I want lots of them. I can see them now, running around, causing all kinds of mischief while you and I sit contently on our porch and watch.” He leaned over and drew her chin up so he could kiss her. “Wait for me – I’ll be back. I promise, Little One…” Then, he was gone.

  She reached out and touched the window’s cool surface gently. Blinking back tears, she looked into the glass pane and once more found only her face reflected in the lamplight. It was only a dream. Glancing over at the still form lying in the bed, her mind relived those terrible minutes immediately following the gunshots…

  Tears rolled down her cheeks unheeded. With fresh pain riding high in her throat, she swallowed hard and gripped the velvet drape at the window. She loved him still.

  “Celia?” Ty stepped quietly into the room. His voice held gentle concern for his sister-in-law. “Celia, are you okay? I came to check…”

  Without a word, she turned from the window and went into his arms. The need for comfort overpowered her. Sobs racked her weary body. “Ty, it’s my fault. It’s my fault.” Gulping air between words, she burrowed into Ty’s chest. “I should have left and none of this would’ve happened.”

  “Now don’t go blaming yourself. None of us knew this was going to happen.” Ty laid his chin on top of her bent head. “Don’t worry, everything’s gonna be just fine. Seth’s as stubborn as a jack-ass and he’s going to pull through. You’ll see.”

  Celia blinked at the tears. Knuckling back the dampness on her cheeks, she sniffed loudly and accepted the handkerchief Ty offered. With a weak smile, she dapped at her eyes. Ty’s handsome face was there and she reached up smoothing the strands that had fallen. His jet-black hair pulled back in a leather thong, his usual mood of wearing it when he worked, framed his features to a tee. She had only seen it loose around his broad shoulders one time, during the burial of her father. “You are going to make some lucky woman a fine catch one day, Mr. Loflin.”

  Ty took the opportunity to smile wickedly as he mimicked a southern gentlemen’s voice. “Well now, ma’am, that’s a right nice proposal, but I’ll have to take some time to think on it.” His low southern drawl brought a bigger smile to her face.

  Laughing gently, she placed her hand against his chest and shoved playfully, “You’re the devil himself.” She stepped back and braced her hands on her hips. “Tyron Charles Loflin, you know perfectly well, I wasn’t referring to me.”

  Her acknowledgement of his teasing brought a smile to his face. “Well a fella can dream, can’t he?” Ty cocked his head and reached out to cup her chin in his big fingers. “My brother is one lucky fella,” he assured her with sincerity.

  Celia’s mouth relaxed into a smile despite herself.

  “I glad to get a smile out of you.” His eyes were full of comfort. “That’s better. You’ve done all you can and it’s going to be enough, you’ll see.” Nodding his head in the direction of the bed, he continued matter-of-factly. “You better get some rest, girl. When the bear wakes up, he’s gonna be mean. You’ll need all your strength to deal with his ornery ass.”

  She followed Ty gaze over to where his brother’s body lay very pale and fevered. “Since you’re back, I guess the men had no luck.” Her eyes tracked back to Ty as she asked, “How are you doing? That’s quite a knot you have there.”

  Brushing aside her concern, Ty made light of the bruising along his temple. “Oh, I’ll live. We brought in a couple of Brannon’s men for questioning. It’ll take more than dealing with a crazed Texas Ranger to do me in.” Ty gave her a quick wink. “Besides, his cohorts didn’t realize how hard my old skull really is. I’ve been thrown by my own broncs and hurt worse.” With another grin, Ty tapped his finger to her chin. “Now…I want you to get some rest, and let me take over for a while.”

  She nodded. Stepping to the bed, she reached out and brushed the damp hair from Seth’s forehead. She sighed. “Ty I just wish there was something else I could do.”

  “You’ve done all you can for now. Celia…” He reached out turning her to face him once more. “Cole has those two locked up until we find out exactly who they are.” His insistent look brooked no question. “In the meantime, you’ve got to get some rest. I promise I’ll come and get you if there’s any sort of change. Okay?”

  ***

  Slipping in as quiet as a mouse, Maggie closed the door to the room next to Casey’s. She carried a tray of tea and English biscuits. Settling them on the table in the sitting room, Maggie proceeded to fill two cups with tea.

  The tinkle of china and slosh of tea roused Celia from the light sleep she’d fallen into. “Have we heard anything from the sheriff?”

  “No, there’s been no word.” Maggie glanced at the bed. “Did you get some rest?”

  “Yes.” Celia sat up and stretched out a kink in her back. Rising, she went to the balcony. With a slight frown, she watched the street below. It was growing light with the first rays of sunshine peaking over the horizon. “I wonder what will happen to Brannon if they find him.” She turned back to Maggie.

  “Well, I would say that depends on whether or not he’s actually Brannon, now wouldn’t it?” With a small lump of sugar in her tea, Maggie stirred and watched Celia. Maggie patted the settee. “Come and sit with me, dear.” Offering Celia a cup, Maggie eyed her. “You’ve been at this vigil for some time now. Don’t you think it’s time you took a break? Perhaps get out for some fresh air – visit Rose at the Mercantile.”

  Celia shook her head. “No, I can’t. He needs me here. I need to keep talking to him. The do
ctors back east were convinced that coma patients could still hear and the communication helped bring them back quicker.” Celia set down the tea she hadn’t touched before walking back to the window where a soft morning breeze had kicked up. “Oh, Maggie,” she waved her hand, “All this is my fault. You know this would never have happened if I’d left after my father’s death.” Her features tensed. Her hand fisted at her mouth as her fingers trembled. She wouldn’t cry she told herself. Instead, she turned from Maggie staring out at the street blindly.

  “There now, dear.” Maggie shook her head gently. “Who could’ve known this mad man would be lurking about and cast an eye your way.” Rising, she came to Celia’s side and wrapped her arms around her. “I won’t hear any more such nonsense from you, do you hear me?” Giving her a hug, Maggie released her. “Here, come and sit. Have some tea.”

  Seated with tea in hand, the incident filled day played back in her head. Brannon was crazy. He’d come storming out into the street like hell’s on fury. She could still see his eyes. Still see the cold hatred in them. Fear, rip and hot had constricted her air as she watched helplessly. Seth had faced unspeakable danger because of her. Pangs of guilt wormed their way into her already shaky confidence.

  “Maggie, when Seth wakes up and everything is all right with him, will you…,” Celia dropped her eyes to her hands and then fisted them once, releasing the tension in her as best she could. “Will you help me leave?” The sadness she saw in Maggie’s face was something she couldn’t help, she mused.

  “Child, what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I need to leave here, to take this trouble and leave. Maybe if I do, then he can go back to his life without constantly looking over his shoulder.” Celia dropped her head. “I can return to Charleston and see about getting my old job back.” Taking the older woman’s hands in her own, Celia tried to convince her.