by Sara Orwig
“Very well, Louisa. You wait right here and let me talk to your mother.”
“I’ll go back into the store. You have five minutes.”
He laughed. “Always, you want to make life more difficult for me in any little way you can!”
“Why, Reuben, you make me sound cruel.”
“You are cruel like a little kitten who can cause only tiny scratches. I’ll show you a sweet cruelty tonight, Louisa, when I put my hands beneath your skirts!”
“Reuben! Stop that this instant!” She frowned and spun away from him, but he had done it enough to know it excited her, and she liked for him to talk to her about forbidden things.
He strolled half a block to the Shumacher carriage and knocked lightly, stepping inside.
“Mrs. Shumacher, may I have a word with you? Louisa has stepped back into the store.”
“Of course, Reuben. We’re going to call on your mother shortly.”
“She’ll be happy to see you. I know she counts you as her best friend. Mrs. Shumacher, this is a delicate question, but you’re an understanding woman and one whom I’ve known since I was a boy.”
“What’s troubling you, Reuben?”
“Under ordinary circumstances, I know you would refuse my request, but ordinary circumstances no longer exist. I’m invited to the Haskinses’ tonight, as your family is also. May I escort Louisa?”
She drew a sharp breath and gazed out the carriage window. She was so much like his own mother that Reuben found it easy to be with her and usually easy to please her. He knew when to speak and when to keep his silence.
“Yes, Reuben, if that’s agreeable with Louisa.”
“It’s agreeable. Thank you. Mrs. Shumacher. I know it’s a delicate situation.”
“Frankly, Reuben, I think the girl has such foolish notions sometimes. Simply because the man has become a bank customer, Mr. Shumacher has turned a blind eye to a ridiculous situation.”
“If I were about to become engaged to your daughter, I wouldn’t leave town with another woman, that I can promise you.”
“I know, Reuben. You’re reliable and trustworthy.”
Reuben smiled, his purpose accomplished. “I see Louisa returning. Thank you.”
He stepped down and strode across the boardwalk to take Louisa’s elbow in his hand. “You’ll ride with me tonight, and we’ll do just what I promised.”
“You’re a scoundrel, Reuben, and how you have Mother fooled! She thinks you’re a perfect gentleman. If she knew what you do to me, you’d be banned forever from my presence.”
“But she doesn’t know,” he said, turning her to face him, looking down at her breasts. “You’re beautiful, Louisa.”
“And you’re far too forward!”
“I’ll call at six, and for a few hours I’ll make you forget your betrothed.”
“One thing, Reuben,” she said, her temper suddenly flaring. “You’re not to mention the name Dan Castle!”
He smiled and helped her into the carriage, closing the door and watching the carriage move down Larimer. Dan Castle. The words rang in his ears. And he thought of the name on the poster. Tigre Danby Castillo. “Danby Castillo,” he said aloud under his breath, his gray eyes widening. “Danby Castillo—Dan Castle.”
Reuben climbed in his carriage to ride back to the jail.
16
Hattie studied her dresses. Catalina had a marvelous seamstress who had made three dresses for Hattie. She studied the raspberry muslin, and amber crepon, and a deep blue grenadine.
She decided on the amber crepon and pulled it on. She then brushed her hair and began the arduous task of braiding it in the latest style, when she thought about Javier and how he liked it in a bun behind her head so he could take it down easily. She sat down on the rocker, running her hand across her forehead. Javier would be here this afternoon. It had been so long since they parted. Years of separation. And she finally answered his letter and agreed to see him. Since she had let down that barrier, memories had come flooding back, longings that she had tried to ignore. She was torn between burning anger that would never completely die, and a longing that would also be with her as long as she drew breath. She loved him. She couldn’t stop. They had had so many good years together, perfect years. They had a wonderful son. Javier seemed truly sorry, and he seemed to be trying to make amends with April. With Luke it was impossible.
Luke was a hard man, but Hattie understood why. That terrible day of the ambush had changed their lives forever. They had molded into different people. Luke’s gentle nature was tempered now by the hardness that had enabled him to survive. And she supposed the same was true of her.
Hattie unplaited her hair and twisted it into a bun, her fingers moving swiftly while her mind jumped to the present. She still didn’t know what she felt for Javier. Anger and forgiveness. Yet it was becoming more and more difficult to cling to her anger when she saw how happy April and Noah were. April’s life was full and good, and she had completely forgotten the past and forgiven Javier, so what was the point in clinging to something so far in the past?
Yet all of the lost years could come rushing back to Hattie so easily. And of all her grandchildren, there wasn’t a girl baby. How she dreamed there would be one like April, but there wasn’t. She adored the boys, and she knew the longing was simply for what had been lost to her long ago. If she stopped to remember, the pain returned, blurred, not as sharp as it had been in those first years, but unforgettable, and then she didn’t want to see Javier or talk to him.
She started to put on the necklace Luke and Catalina had given her—emeralds set in silver—but she lowered it and opened a drawer, rummaging deep to pull out the old locket of gold that Javier had given her long ago. It had a tintype inside; of Dan as a child. Hattie held it in her palm a long time and finally put it around her neck. It lay above the neck of the amber dress in the cleft between her breasts. She dabbed rosewater behind her ears and on her wrists and realized she was as dithery as a young girl.
She moved to the window to look down at the road, and as if her thoughts had conjured him up, she saw the familiar wagon come into view. The driver was hidden by a broad-brimmed black hat, but his long legs and arms were showing, and her heart began to race.
“Javier,” she whispered, watching the wagon turn into the yard. It stopped, and he jumped down, striding toward the front door and out of her sight, but she remembered well his long stride, his purposeful way of moving.
She went down the spacious hall, thankful for the grand house that Noah had given April. And now there were plans to enlarge it. Hattie suspected April and Noah wanted another baby.
When she heard Javier’s voice, she paused. Memories flooded her mind. His deep tone seemed to reach out with invisible fingers and cling to her. She moved ahead more slowly, uncertain about their meeting. She turned the corner, and he stood talking to one of the maids. For an instant Hattie stared in shock, thinking it couldn’t be Javier.
It was his voice, but the man only yards away had thick white hair.
“Javier?”
He turned. His mustache was as white as his hair, both thick as ever, his black eyes seeming to absorb her into their depths. He looked older, and it hurt to see the change in him. There were lines in his face that hadn’t been there before, but he was as broad-shouldered and as masculine, and an undercurrent of excitement gripped her as she looked at him.
“Hattie!” he said, moving a step toward her and halting.
His one word set her pulse racing. Memories swirled like snowflakes, silent, constant, too many of them tumbling in her thoughts. “Come into the parlor,” she said, barely knowing what she told him. “I don’t know where April is.”
“I will fetch her, Señora Castillo.”
“Gracias, María,” Hattie said, and motioned to Javier. He stepped aside, and as she passed him, she was aware of his big body, the clean smell tinged with a faint trace of tobacco that was so familiar to her. In minutes April joined them. The rest of the afternoon
and that evening were spent in pleasant but—it seemed to Hattie—strained conversation. April and Noah were at ease, but Aaron was shy around Javier. Finally Javier left the child alone until Aaron’s shyness began to evaporate and he climbed onto Javier’s lap.
Eventually April put Aaron to bed, and April and Noah said good night, leaving Hattie and Javier alone.
Javier moved to the mantel to rest his arm against it as he turned to look at her. He had shed his coat, and she saw how his shirt pulled across his shoulders. The muscles were still solid and powerful. “Hattie, I want you to come home with me.”
Hattie had known this was coming, she had rehearsed answer after answer, yet she had never been able to say yes.
She clasped her hands together, turning the plain gold band on her finger. She heard a rustle and looked up as he leaned down to pull her to her feet.
“Hattie, I need you. I know I can’t undo what I did, but we’re both getting older. Is this the way you want to spend our last years?”
Her throat tightened as she looked at him, and tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn’t give him an answer. She felt torn, for once in her life, caught in dreadful indecision.
He framed her face with large callused hands that she knew so well. “Hattie, you’re my woman. I need you,” he said hoarsely, his eyes growing red. “Even if you can’t forget or forgive me, maybe you could forgive me enough to come back. When the memories make things too difficult for you, go away for a while, but come back for part of the time. Give me a chance.” His eyes filled with tears. “I can’t live without you. I don’t want to be without you.”
She wrapped her arms around him and cried. Instantly his strong arms enfolded her, crushing her to him while he poured out his love in a husky voice. He turned her face up to his and kissed her. She tasted salty tears and didn’t know whether they were hers or his, or both, and it was wonderful to be in his arms again. Past hurts wouldn’t vanish, but she needed Javier and she knew how much she had missed him.
She leaned back to look at him and he picked her up as easily as if she were a young girl and moved down the hall to his room which was in a separate wing from the other bedrooms. He carried her to the bed and went back to light the lamp and close the door. He moved to the bed to look down at her.
“Hattie, it’s been so long. It’s like you tore out my heart and took it with you,” he said, unfastening his shirt and pulling it over his head. His body was hard and muscular as always, and her heart pounded as he stretched out beside her to pull her into his arms. “When it gets bad and your anger returns—I know it will—you tell me.”
She nodded, feeling tears threatening again. She closed her eyes, leaning the last few inches to kiss him. Deep within her she knew that her anger would seldom return because it was such a senseless waste.
17
Dan moved closer to the door, his Colt ready, when he heard a bird’s whistle.
“Mary!” came a faint call from the other side of the door.
“It’s Brian,” he said over his shoulder, holstering his Colt and unbarring the door to open it while Mary disappeared behind the blankets to dress. Ta-ne-haddle entered, followed by Brian. Dan closed and barred the door behind them, then turned to hug Ta-ne-haddle while Brian crossed the room to Michael’s bedside.
“Thanks for coming,” Dan said. “I thought you might keep Michael from getting scarred. He’s still running a fever, and some of his cuts are infected. Come meet Mary.” Dan shook hands with Brian as Mary appeared and hugged her brother.
“Mary, this is Ta-ne-haddle, Luke’s friend. This is Mary O’Malley. I see you found Brian.”
“How is he, Mary?” Brian asked.
“He’s feverish and weak. Sometimes he doesn’t sleep quietly, other times he does. He’s been up with Dan’s help.”
“Let me look at him. Brian, why don’t you help me change his bandages,” Ta-ne-haddle said.
“You want to wake him?”
Ta-ne-haddle nodded. “I’ll give him something that’ll make him go back to sleep. I saw Doc Felton before we left Denver.”
“I’ll get clean rags for the bandages,” Mary said, and for the next half-hour everyone in the cabin was occupied. Dan built up the fire and made beds ready while Mary brewed coffee and heated the stew. She knew Brian would be hungry no matter how recently he had eaten. She glanced at the men as they worked over Michael. Ta-ne-haddle had him sitting up on the side of the bed while he smoothed some kind of ointment on Michael’s wounds, and her hopes increased that he would be better soon.
Michael settled to sleep while Ta-ne-haddle and Brian ate. As they talked softly to avoid disturbing Michael, Ta-ne-haddle told Dan family news.
“When I left, Hattie planned to go home with April and Noah.”
“Oh?” Dan asked, and Mary heard the hope in his voice.
“April wrote Javier that Hattie would come home with them.”
“Do you know if Pa is going to Albuquerque?”
“No, I don’t. The young’uns are growing.” While they talked, Brian sat warming his feet at the fire and sipping brandy Dan had poured. Mary sat between Brian and Dan, all four of them in a semicircle in front of the fire. While the men talked, Dan reached over to rest his hand on the back of Mary’s chair, and within a few minutes she felt him wind a curl of her hair in his fingers. She didn’t turn around to look at him, and wondered if he was even aware of what he was doing. Once while he was talking, she studied him. She felt a yearning for him every time she looked at him, and was relieved that they would no longer be isolated. Yet, those same thoughts made her sorry too. Her thoughts were in a constant turmoil and now questions haunted her about her feelings for Silas.
“How’d you find Brian?”
“It wasn’t difficult,” Ta-ne-haddle said dryly. “He had started here and I caught up with him.”
“When did you get my message, Brian?”
“Henry had sent me to take a team of horses to Silver City. I just got back and got your message. I went to see Doc Felton, talked to Pa, and started out here. Ta-ne-haddle caught up with me only about two hours out of Denver.”
“I might as well warn you,” Dan said,” we have a bit of trouble here.” He told them about the prospectors, his fingers slipping beneath Mary’s thick fall of hair and kneading her shoulder lightly. His touches were casual, yet she was intensely aware of them. His voice was deep and mellow, and she wished things were different. As swiftly as the idea had come, she rejected it. Silas would come home and marry her. And Dan was about to be engaged to one of the most beautiful women in the territory. Even if she were as free as a bird, Mary knew it wouldn’t change his feelings. She wasn’t beautiful, and she wasn’t a part of Denver society, and Mary had known Dan long enough to realize this was important to him.
The time she had known Silas seemed like something that had occurred in her girlhood, a long time ago. Dan attracted her in a manner that Silas never had, and it disturbed her, making her question her future. She wanted marriage and babies more than anything else, but she didn’t want to marry for the wrong reasons. And she realized she would never be as important to Silas as she would like to be to her husband. He wouldn’t have left her for years without a word if she were important to him.
“Seems as if Miss Shumacher might be getting a little irate about your helping my brother all this time,” Brian said, startling Mary, since that was the line of her thinking. To her surprise, Dan’s face flushed.
“I’ll have to explain to her when I get back. How do you think we’ll be able to get Michael out of here, Ta-ne-haddle?”
The subject was changed, and Mary basked in the warm firelight, happy to have Dan beside her and wanting to be closer, to have more than his hand occasionally brushing her shoulders or her back.
“Brian brought a wagon,” Ta-ne-haddle said. “It’s about half a mile from here.”
“You came the rest of the way on foot?” Dan asked, and they nodded. “When can we move Michael home?�
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“We may be able to tomorrow,” Ta-ne-haddle said. “The sooner you get out of here and back to Denver, the better off you’ll be.”
“I’m going to bed now,” Mary said, telling the men good night, and meeting Dan’s gaze, which seemed intense and questioning.
“I’m exhausted,” Brian said.
“Go sleep. I’ll listen for Michael,” Dan offered. Brian stretched out on the bed nearest Michael, and within minutes was softly snoring.
Mary slid beneath the covers and listened to the low murmur of the men’s voices, thinking constantly about Dan. Without warning, hot tears flooded her eyes and she turned over to bury her face in her pillow because she faced the fact that it wasn’t Silas she loved, it was Dan.
While Dan listened to Ta-ne-haddle talk about Luke’s boys, he thought he heard a noise from Mary’s direction. It sounded like a moan. He turned and glanced toward the dark corner where she should be sleeping.
“Just a minute,” he said to Ta-ne-haddle. “Mary? Are you all right?”
He waited, and when there was no answer, he shrugged. “She must be asleep. I thought I heard a noise. Sorry, go ahead.”
“I can talk about the little ones until the new moon rises. And to a bachelor, that’s a tiresome subject. How much trouble do you expect when we leave?” Ta-ne-haddle asked.
“I recognized one of the men here, and I think it’s only a matter of time until he recognizes me. If he knows there’s a price on my head, which I’m sure he will, he’ll want me all to himself. There are too many in camp for it to be profitable for him to share the reward money. I think he’ll come after me if he thinks I’m alone with Michael and Mary.”
“No one knows we’re here.”
“Brian can get the wagon and ride in here. We can load Michael on the wagon, and Brian and Mary can ride with him. I’ll drop behind to follow, and they’ll think I’m alone, bringing up the rear.”
Ta-ne-haddle nodded. “I think it’s best. I think we can move him tomorrow. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve been sleeping in the saddle for several nights now.” He moved to a bed while Dan put another log on the fire.