Summer Moon

by Jill Marie Landis

  Reed watched her go, shoulders stiff, skirts swishing behind her. Life on earth might be a hell of a lot easier without women.

  Her chiming in was not what he needed tonight. He had already berated himself all afternoon for what had happened. Maybe he should have taken more time, maybe even tried to sign to the boy or tell him what he was going to do in broken Comanche instead of lopping off Daniel’s hair without warning.

  It was too late for if only. He had almost settled it in his mind—then Kate had come back. He had even come to terms with her going into town with the preacher. Now she had more than his temper all stirred up.

  In the glow of the lamplight when he had walked out to greet them, he had seen a smile in her eyes that reminded him of the morning after they made love. A smile full of promise that reminded him that she had burrowed way under his skin since that day. Lately he had begun to think of her as much more than a housekeeper. Much more.

  Earlier, there had been something in her touch that he couldn’t deny, as if she had come home pleased to see him—until he told her what he had done.

  He walked over to the dry sink and dipped out a ladle full of water from a stoneware crock and glanced out the window. Heat clouds were drifting closer, the sky wild with distant lightning. The land was dry, the summer grass yellow. There would be hell to pay if a prairie fire started tonight.

  He drained the glass but got no relief from the heat, inside or out. Between the oppressive temperature and the thunder—not to mention the emotional storm playing itself out inside the house—he wondered if he would get any sleep at all.

  Upstairs, Fast Pony knelt by the open window watching the lightning race closer. His walking stick stood in the far corner of the room and there it would stay.

  He did not need it.

  He barely limped at all anymore and hadn’t for weeks. Using the walking stick, pretending to be crippled had been his sly way of tricking the whites.

  Soft Grass Hands had come home. So had Yellow Hair. At first, he had been so relieved to see the women that he thought maybe he should stay a while longer.

  Then he missed the feel of his long hair on his neck and remembered what Tall Ranger had done to him. He waited for her, but Soft Grass Hands did not come in to see him. He wanted to see her one last time, to have her sit beside him. He wanted to hear her speak softly to him the way she did every night before he went to sleep.

  He had waited for her, but she had not come.

  He was leaving tonight, and she would never see him again.

  She would never know what Tall Ranger had done to his hair—unless the man already told her. Maybe she did not care.

  Fast Pony opened his hand and stared at the little metal stick that kept the door from opening. All the thin sticks were exactly the same. He had discovered that one day when Yellow Hair had been cooking, ignoring him as he played with the door.

  Sly as a coyote, he had stolen the little locking stick long ago.

  He smiled at the lightning and waited for the hollow sound of thunder. Tall Ranger thought he had him trapped, but the white man did not know how cunning he was.

  He sat on the floor beneath the window and waited as the house grew quiet. The lamplight went out in the little dwelling where Hairy Face lived. Soon everyone would be asleep, and it would be time to go.

  He closed his eyes and whispered a soft chant, thankful for the rolling thunder that would cover any sound he made when he slipped away.

  37

  Reed had tossed and turned all night, too hot, too unsettled to get any sleep. He worried about Daniel and had been riled by his reaction to Kate. He kept thinking about her trip to town with the preacher and wishing it didn’t bother him. Wishing he didn’t care.

  By morning, he was more exhausted than when he had gone to bed. It still hadn’t rained. There had been no blessed relief from the building heat. He dressed and found Kate in the kitchen with Charm, putting a tray of food together for Daniel. She looked as if she had slept no better than he.

  They nodded in silent greeting. She dismissed him, a sure sign of which way the wind was blowing this morning.

  “Morning, Reed.” Charm distracted him by handing him a cup of hot coffee, but absent her usual smile. “Your steak and eggs will be ready in a minute.” When she turned around and started breaking eggs against the edge of the skillet with sharp, purposeful taps, he knew he was getting the freeze from both of them.

  He pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down. Kate asked for the key to Daniel’s room. When he gave it to her, she picked up Daniel’s tray and left without even glancing at him.

  She wasn’t gone three minutes before there was a loud crash overhead. Reed was on his feet the instant he heard the tray hit the floor. Charm was right behind him. He met Kate coming down the stairs.

  Her face was stark white, her eyes huge and frightened. “He’s gone.” She closed the gap between them, reeled down three more stairs. “He’s gone, Reed! My God, he’s not in his room!”

  She was shaking so hard he feared she might tumble the rest of the way down. He took her arm, led her back up to the landing. “Did you look in the other rooms?” He charged down the hall, banging doors, opening armoires, throwing back bedspreads, bending to look under beds.

  Kate followed in his wake, repeating over and over, “He’s gone. He’s run away.”

  Reed searched Daniel’s room, trying to decide if the boy had taken anything. He went down on his knees, looked around under the bed, telling himself Daniel had to be hiding someplace, that he was scaring them on purpose, paying him back for the haircut.

  But in his heart he knew the truth.

  When he turned around, Kate was clutching Daniel’s crutch. Oddly enough, she was smiling through her tears. She even raised the crutch like a trophy.

  “Without this, he couldn’t have gotten very far.” She sniffed and wiped the back of her hand over her eyes, took a deep breath and glanced out the window. “I’m sure we’ll find him close to the house. Maybe even in the barn.” She swallowed a little sob. “I should have thought of that already. He’s with the horses. He’s probably there right now.”

  Reed knew better. He wasn’t about to offer false hope. If the boy had made it as far as the barn, if he had gotten to the horses, then he was long gone.

  He hurried past Kate. When he heard her racing after him, he slowed his steps. She had suffered a shock and was still unsteady, so he waited at the top of the stairs, taking her arm as they walked down together.

  She was still hugging the crutch.

  Reed tried to leave her in the kitchen, hoping to spare her the bald truth for a few more minutes. “Wait here. I’ll look outside.”

  “No, I—”

  He had his hand on the back door when it opened from outside. Scrappy was there, his face lined with sleep, creased into a puckered frown. Charm was right behind him.

  “The Andalusian’s gone. Somebody stole him last night.”

  “The boy’s gone, too,” Reed told him.

  “Shee-it.” Scrappy spat on the veranda, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Damn it all. You sure?”

  “He’s not in his room.” Reed stepped outside. Kate and Charm followed close on his heels.

  “The horse ain’t in the stall.” Scrappy shoved his hat down tight. Reed stepped off the veranda with all of them trailing behind.

  Head down, his gaze swept the ground around the corral. It was covered with horseshoe prints and wagon-wheel impressions. Hundreds of them. To find the boy, they would have to circle the property, pick up a trail that led off on its own. He glanced up at the leaden sky, prayed the rain would hold off.

  “Reed, what are we going to do?” Kate was racing beside him, one hand holding her skirt out of the dirt, the other still hanging on to Daniel’s crutch.

  “I’m going after him.”

  It wasn’t until he had said it that he realized he was not about to let the boy go again. Not as long as there was a bre
ath in his body. He had lost Daniel once. He wasn’t going to lose him again.

  He looked into Kate’s frightened eyes, tried to assure himself as well as her and the others. “I’m going after him. I’ll get him back.”

  “I’m going with you.” Kate handed the crutch to Charm, who was crying like a baby.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll only slow me down. We have no idea how far of a head start he has on us. Besides, I’m not taking you into Comanche country. What if I get killed? What do you think will happen to you out there alone?” He didn’t want to think about it.

  “That’s a choice I’m willing to make. If you don’t take me, then I’ll leave on my own after you’re gone.”

  “If you’re really worried about Daniel, you wouldn’t be begging to slow me down.”

  “But you’re the reason he left. Even if you find him, do you think he’ll come back with you?”

  “Hell, no. I’ll drag him back like I did before.”

  “Listen to yourself, Reed. You’re furious. You’ll frighten him to death. Let me go with you. At least he’s not afraid of me.” She grabbed hold of his sleeve and held on. “Even if you tie me down, sooner or later, I’ll be free. I’m going no matter what you say.”

  She was the most bullheaded creature he had ever seen. No other woman would be begging to go into hostile territory with him.

  He watched her stew, saw her making her own plans in silence. If he left her here, she would be harebrained enough to try to follow him. Knowing Scrappy, the old man wouldn’t let her go alone, and they would both end up getting killed.

  As much as he hated to admit it, he would be better off taking her than leaving her behind.

  She never thought he would agree.

  “Can you even ride?” He yelled it at her before he started firing orders at Scrappy, telling the old wrangler which horse to saddle, what supplies he’d need for the trail.

  “Of course, I can ride.” Kate dogged his steps around the corral area.

  It was a white lie. She had ridden some, but not often. The nuns kept an old swaybacked mare named Sweetie in a crumbling brick stable, and every spring they brought in a woman who taught the girls the rudiments of riding sidesaddle. Every year Kate tried to set a good example for her students, but each time she had to overcome the fear of sitting so high off the ground on an animal with a mind of its own.

  The minute Reed realized she was not going to back down—against his own judgment, he let her know—he acquiesced. Charm immediately grabbed Kate’s hand and dragged her into the house and up to her room.

  “If you aren’t ready to go when Reed is, it’ll just give him an excuse to leave you behind,” she told Kate. “Believe me, I know how men think.”

  Kate watched as Charm tore through a camelbacked trunk at the foot of her bed. She had never seen so many ruffles and feathers, so much satin and lace—and every bit of it in bold, provocative colors. Curious, she reached down to touch a deep violet chemise.

  “Of course! My lucky chemise,” Charm cried. “Take it.”

  Kate let go as if scorched. “Oh, my—no. I couldn’t.”

  The girl was grabbing clothes right and left. Kate tried to dissuade her from what appeared to be a mad mission. “I really appreciate this, but I don’t think—”

  “Here!” Charm pulled out a pair of Levi Strauss pants, which had seen better days. “Wear these and you won’t be slowed down by petticoats.”

  “Pants?” Kate’s face was afire. “You want me to wear a pair of men’s pants? What in the world are you doing with these, anyway?”

  Charm whirled around and held them up to Kate’s waist. “You don’t really want to know.” She adjusted the pants, shaking her head. “They’re too long, but you can roll them up.”

  Then she rummaged around a bit more and tugged out a huge, deep purple satin poke bonnet with a great black feather that was bent and broken in three places. Charm jerked the feather off the hat. It fluttered like a disjointed bird and settled on the floor between them.

  “This will keep the sun off your face. Now, do you have a shirtwaist?”

  Kate shook her head. “No, but . . .”

  Charm threw the pants on the bed and raced out of the room. A minute later she was back with an overlarge print shirt that she tossed at Kate.

  “Wear this, too. If you’re worried about your modesty, it’ll come well past your waist and cover the crotch and seat of the pants.”

  Crotch? Modesty? Despite her early years with her mother, she had been raised by nuns. Modesty was her middle name.

  “Where did you get this?” Kate suspected that she already knew.

  “I stole it out of Reed’s closet.” She handed Kate the pants that lay crumpled on the end of the bed, the hat and the violet chemise as well. Then she shoved her toward the door. “Get dressed. He won’t wait.”

  Kate hesitated. To wear pants . . . to ride astride . . . Mother Superior would advise countless novenas.

  And Preston. What would Preston and all the upstanding townsfolk she had met yesterday think of her riding across the prairie like a madwoman sporting a man’s pants and a whore’s lucky chemise and bonnet?

  Charm crossed her arms beneath her ample bosom. “You won’t have time to worry about a skirt flapping in the wind or your ankles showing. And what about . . . well, private things? You can’t give Reed one single solitary excuse to leave you behind. Besides, you might be gone for days. Days and nights on the trail, Kate. How are you going to manage out there if you are all gussied up to the gills in a dress and petticoats?”

  She hadn’t thought of any of that. She hadn’t thought of anything but Daniel and the stricken look on Reed’s face when she told him that Daniel was gone.

  Days and nights on the trail alone with Reed.

  She couldn’t—wouldn’t—stop to think of the ramifications of what it would mean to her newfound reputation if anyone found out. Nor did she dwell on how terrified she was to ride into hostile Comanche territory.

  Charm paced back and forth, chewing on her thumb-nail. “Daniel needs you, Kate. You have to be there when Reed finds him. Now you get dressed. I’ll go downstairs and wrap up some cookies for him.” She suddenly burst into tears sobbing, “You know how he loves his sweets.”

  Despite the life she had led, Charm had a heart the size of Texas. She deserved to be happy. As Kate hurried down the hall to change clothes, she swore that once they were all back together safe and sound, she would find Jonah Taylor, and she wouldn’t rest until Charm was married.

  38

  You should have known better.

  Walking away from where he had picketed the horses for the night, Reed cursed his lack of judgment. He had been loco to agree to bring Kate along: Just as he thought beforehand, he spent every minute worrying about her. Not only that, but she was definitely slowing him down. Even though she hadn’t once complained, he could tell she was saddle weary and exhausted. Not to mention upset.

  At one point when they stopped for water, he found himself trying to reassure her. “We’ll find him.” He wished he had faith in himself, in his words.

  Kate had been standing beside a small creek where barely a trickle of water ran this time of year. She turned full circle, tipped her head back so she could see out from beneath the wide brim of the satin poke bonnet.

  Her gaze scanned the sky, followed the flight of a brown hawk before she turned to him with tears shimmering in her eyes. “I can’t bear the thought of him riding around alone out here. My God, Reed. How can he survive?”

  “I’m sure the Comanche taught him well. He’s grown up on horseback. He knows how to live off the land.”

  “He showed me so much,” she said softly. “He was always pointing out flowers and animals to me, little things that I would not have seen if not for him. Sometimes even big ones that were practically under my nose.” She tried to smile, even brightened a bit afterward.

  Seated on the little brown mare, wearing oversize baggy
pants, his shirt, and the ridiculously huge ruffled bonnet, she was more than a sight. Added to her outlandish outfit was the gun and holster he had strapped on her after one rudimentary lesson in how to fire it.

  They covered plenty of ground that first day, pushing their horses and themselves. Whenever he asked if she needed to stop, she said no. Dusk had enveloped them when he finally insisted they get some rest, not for himself, but for her.

  Her tears came and went so freely that he almost en-vied her being a woman at a time like this. His heart had been numb so long that it only knew how to ache in silence.

  Cloaked in darkness, Reed walked back to where Kate lay sound asleep on a thin blanket near their saddles. She had been too exhausted to eat more than a few crackers and an apple. It was still light out. Still overly warm.

  He picked up his rifle, sat close beside her, and leaned back against his saddle. He laid the weapon across his lap, wondered if Daniel had found his clan yet. If so, they would have welcomed him back with open arms.

  The way I should have done.

  I should have left his hair alone.

  I should have stayed home and not gone back to the Rangers once I found him again.

  No matter what Becky said, no matter what the truth might be, it’s dead and buried now.

  He’s my son.

  Mine.

  After suffering a deep case of the shoulds, the conviction came to him so strong, so clear, that it would have knocked him to his knees had he been standing: Daniel deserved better than what he had given him.

  He swore to himself that from this day forward he would think of Daniel as his—the way he had before Becky ruined all their lives with her bitter words.

  He heard Kate groan when she rolled over on the hard ground. Slowly, she came awake, appearing startled by the growing darkness.

  “I’m right here,” he said softly.

  She sat up, wiped her eyes, and stretched.

  “I feel as if I’ve been trampled by a herd of buffalo,” she whispered.

  “Want some water?”

  Barely more than a shadow against the night sky, she shook her head no and shifted until she was more comfortable. “I’ll keep watch. I can wake you if I hear anything,” she offered.