by Jodi Thomas
After Nell had been hurt, Jacob never returned to the widow, even though he’d pass within a mile of her house once in a while.
He didn’t want to spend too much time wondering why. The wind carried the sound again. A cry like a small animal might make if caught in the beak of an owl.
He closed his eyes and told himself to get some sleep. He’d ride out at dawn, but if he didn’t pick up the trail, he knew he would be headed home by noon. He wanted the shooter, but the prospect of making it in for supper tomorrow night seemed promising.
The noise came again. Stronger. Louder. Some animal sounded like it suffered in the trees just beyond his fire.
Jacob rolled to his feet, wide awake. With his Colt ready, he moved into the shadows. He’d free the creature if he could, but if not, he’d at least set it free from pain. Jacob could take as much pain as the next man, maybe more, but he couldn’t stand to see animals suffer.
The trees grew close together, winding down into a dried-up creek bed. Jacob moved through the darkness as soundlessly as an Apache.
The cry tore at his nerves. It sounded almost like sobbing, the kind of bawling all animals, including humans, do when they know death is near.
Jacob circled first one tree, then another, moving blindly toward the racket. He stepped over a stream no wider than his hand.
The ground rose on the other side of the creek bed. He hesitated, guessing he must be a quarter mile by now from his camp. For a moment, he listened. If the cries had been a trick, someone might plan to steal his horse. Dusty would be pitching a fit about now. The horse hated anything on two feet except Jacob, and sometimes Jacob wasn’t too sure Dusty liked him.
Jacob heard nothing. Only the sound of sobbing now. Human sobbing!
He ran as the trees thinned and a clearing appeared. In the pale moonlight, he made out the shape of a woman. Short. Rounded. Her head bowed low as she cried.
Slowing, he tried to figure out how to approach without frightening her. Maybe she was lost, or her horse had thrown her.
“Miss?” he said. “Miss, are you all right?”
She looked up, her sobs silenced by her sudden intake of breath.
He saw the fear in her young face. Panic made her eyes wide and liquid.
“It’s all right,” he hurried to add as he holstered his Colt. “I’m a Texas Ranger. Is there something I can do to help you?”
His gaze darted around. Maybe someone had robbed her and her parents. Her parents might have been killed or gone for help. She looked too young to be left out here alone. She might be fifteen or so, almost grown but not quite. Even in her coat, he could tell she was well rounded, a plump body to match her plump cheeks. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, curls bouncing around her face. He moved closer while she shoved tears away with her sleeve. “Do you live around here, miss?”
She shook her head again.
He studied her, wondering if she could talk. Her clothes were well-made and relatively clean, except for her sleeves. She hadn’t been lost long. He saw no ropes or gag, so she hadn’t been kidnapped. There appeared to be no bruises or cuts, so she hadn’t been mistreated in any way that he could see.
“Do you have any supplies? Water? Food?”
She looked at her hands, and he knew the answer.
“How’d you get here?” He stood five feet away. Close enough to see her in the moonlight, but not so close he’d frighten her. “If you don’t mind telling me.” They had to be fifty miles or more from any town, and if there had been a farm near, he would have seen some sign of it.
She took a deep breath and looked at him as if her answer wouldn’t matter, but she’d tell him anyway. “My pa drove all night and most of a day to drop me off here. He says hell will freeze over before he comes back.” She hugged herself. “It’s getting cold, but I don’t think that will happen, do you?”
Jacob smiled. “No, I don’t.” He’d seen some crazy things, but this beat all for parents trying to teach their children a lesson. Near as he could tell she had no supplies, not even a canteen, and no weapon. “You hungry?”
She nodded. “I haven’t eaten in days. I left this clearing a few times to get a drink and once to stand under the trees when it rained. The water in the creek is mostly mud.”
“How long you been here?”
“This will be my third night.” Her eyes were swollen from crying. “I don’t think he’s going to come back to get me. At first I didn’t want to walk, because I was sure he’d be back. But my hope’s fading.”
Jacob didn’t want to have her start crying again, so he said, “I’ve got a little food and good water back through the trees. If you want some, you’re welcome to it.”
She stood slowly, leaning back to shift her center of gravity.
He fought to keep his face frozen as he realized the girl was pregnant . . . big pregnant. He offered his hand and carefully led her through the trees. She waddled like a duck beside him, holding a hand over her middle as if protecting a treasure.
Jacob was too busy silently swearing at himself to talk to her. He seemed to be developing a habit of saving young girls. First Nell, now this one. Couldn’t the Good Lord take pity on him and send a dozen outlaws to him instead?
The girl started sniffling again like a little round train chugging through the trees.
Two dozen outlaws, he thought, with guns drawn, would be an easier find.
When they reached his camp, he made a seat for her on a log and handed her the sack of food. She ate the rolls first and then finished off the meat and apples while he built up the fire.
“Want to tell me where you live?” he asked as he passed her his canteen. He didn’t like the idea of delay, but he couldn’t leave her here. He’d have to see her to safety before continuing on. A day lost, or even a few hours, would probably mean he couldn’t catch the shooter.
“On a farm,” she answered, then let out a little cry. “Am I still in Texas? He didn’t take me to the Oklahoma Territory, did he? Our farm’s in Texas.”
“That narrows it down considerably.” Jacob shrugged. “And you’ve got to cross the Red River to set foot in the Territory, so we’re still in Texas.”
She looked like she might cry so he asked, “How about telling me what direction we need to head out in the morning? With the rain two nights ago, I doubt I’ll be able to find any tracks your pa’s wagon might have made. If you give me the town closest to your folks’ farm, I can take you back there, and they’d see that you get home.”
He hadn’t helped matters by asking questions. A fat tear rolled down her cheek. “I can’t go back. My pa told me if I tried coming home with this bastard still in me, he’d kill us both.”
Now Jacob understood. “What about the baby’s father?”
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t tell my pa who he is, and I won’t tell you either. Not even if you lock me up.”
He smiled. “I’m not in the habit of arresting young ladies for being pregnant. All I meant was that maybe the father of your child will make things right.”
To his surprise, she raised her chin. “I asked the boy I thought I would love forever just like he claimed he loved me. He said he’d swear nothing ever happened, so I guess his forever ain’t as long as mine. His pa found out and claimed he’d see me dead before he’d let me marry his only son on account of I’m the dumbest one in my family.” She swallowed and added, “And it’s a big family. Eleven brothers and sisters, not counting steps and halves.”
She rubbed her eyes. “I’ve been trying to think of something to do. If I somehow find my way home, pa will kill me. If I go to Teddie, his pa will kill me. It’s been three days, and all I’ve figured out is I must not be bright enough to live. My stepma tells me I’m not worth feeding. I thought she hated me because I look like my ma, but lately I’ve figured out that maybe she just hates me.”
“You got a lot of people wanting to kill you for such a young girl.”
“True.” She
sighed. “Before you came along, I’d decided to fool them all and kill myself. Only, I couldn’t think of a way that wouldn’t hurt. That’s why I was crying, on account of being a coward.”
Jacob had to smile at her logic. “How old are you?”
“I’ll be sixteen next fall,” she answered with a yawn. “If I live that long.”
He handed her his only blanket. “How about we turn in and talk about it in the morning.”
She slid off the log and curled into a ball. “All right. I’ve been too cold and scared to sleep. The night’s long when you’re afraid to close your eyes.”
As she settled, he asked one last question. “Want to tell me your name?”
“Wednesday,” she mumbled. “Wednesday May. I was born the first Wednesday in May. My mom wasn’t big on thinking of names.”
“Good night, Miss May.”
“Good night, Ranger.”
CHAPTER 10
NELL SAT ON THE PORCH MOST OF THE AFTERNOON, A Winchester across her legs in case trouble rode in before Jacob returned. Part of her hoped he lost the trail. She didn’t like to think of him out there alone, maybe riding into an ambush. If the man who’d fired at her bedroom window had been such a good shot and, according to Jacob, a great horseman as well, wasn’t there the possibility he might be able to set a trap and catch even a Texas Ranger off guard?
Closing her eyes, she pushed the image of a wounded Jacob out of her head. She couldn’t bear thinking that he might suffer the same pain she had when she’d been ambushed. The memory of lying in the sun waiting for them to come closer to kill her. The feel of her own blood soaking her body. The knowing that she was helpless and could do nothing to change her fate. All crossed her mind as she waited.
A vision of him spread on the ground like a broken doll flashed across her mind once more. Nell forced it aside. His life was one of danger. He knew what he was doing. He’d be fine, she told herself. He always had been. Think of something else . . . of anything else.
The feel of his lips pressing against her mouth consumed her thoughts. The memory seemed so strong, she could almost feel his lips touching her now. She wondered if he were thinking of her and the kiss they’d shared at the same moment. Somehow, Nell knew this time was just like when she’d been a child and had needed him. She’d sensed him on his way long before she could get word to him.
A noise pulled her from her thoughts. Mr. Harrison and Marla carried the new window upstairs hours ago and were now working on fixing the gate. It surprised Nell how they worked together so smoothly and in silence most of the time. Marla usually started supper by now, but today she stood beside Harrison, holding the gate in place, waiting for him to finish tightening the new latch.
They were a matched set, Nell thought. Both tall and thin with ebony hair shining in the sun. If they married, their children would be beanpoles with straight black hair. Not that Harrison and Marla would ever even talk, much less fall in love and marry. Both had little to say.
Nell had never heard Marla say two words to any man, or any boy in their younger days. She wasn’t sure Marla said more than that to Mr. Harrison, but it didn’t stop them from being a team.
Harrison removed his jacket and collar. His undershirt was stained with sweat, and Nell guessed without asking that he had no other shirt. How proper he’d been only twenty-four hours ago when he’d arrived. She now guessed most of his stiffness had been fear, and the fainting spell probably more hunger than panic over the ranger’s threats.
The bookkeeper straightened, lifted the tool box, and walked with Marla to the porch. Nell didn’t hear either of them speak as they neared. Marla disappeared into the house, but he halted, one foot on the step, the other remaining on the ground.
“I think the latch will hold,” he said, rolling his sleeves down. “Anyone planning to ride by now will have to stop to open the gate or risk a broken neck jumping the fence.”
“Thank you.” Nell didn’t know what else to say. She knew he was trying to help out, still hoping they’d make a bargain of marriage, but he’d done far more than necessary. She would have been happy if he’d just managed to straighten out her books. Despite his silent nature, she’d learned a great deal about the man today. He liked to keep busy. He was kind. He must be, for Harrison put in the window with the sheriff telling him how it should be done, without once suggesting Parker help more and talk less.
Mr. Harrison wiped his throat with a handkerchief embroidered with an H. “I enjoyed the work. It’s been a long time since I’ve worked outside. It felt good.” His pale skin had reddened in the sun.
“Ask Marla to get the aloe cream down for you.” Nell looked down, embarrassed at having stared. “It’ll help with the burn.”
“I’ll do that.” He stepped up on the porch and studied her a moment before adding, “If the ranger hasn’t returned before nightfall, I’ll go back to the boardinghouse and collect my things. If you’ve no objections, I’ll use the team that’s still hitched up so I’m only away a short time.”
Nell had been watching the road and almost didn’t answer. “That’s fine. It is kind of you to offer to stay.” The image of Jacob hurt, lying in the dirt, wormed its way back into her mind.
“You’re more than welcome, Miss Smith.” Harrison studied her.
Nell knew she acted strange. He probably thought her ill. She looked into his eyes for the first time. Something about him seemed very formal, but a secret lay beneath his guarded eyes. She no longer believed it had anything to do with her. “Mr. Harrison, you may use any of the horses or wagons you wish. You’ve no need to ask my permission. Fat Alice said she kept them in case she had to move in the middle of the night. I’m afraid they are in desperate need of exercise. I can’t get Marla to take even the buggy when she goes to town.”
“She’s afraid of horses,” he answered more to himself than her.
Nell raised her eyebrows. She’d never noticed, and the shy cook had said nothing when questioned. “How do you know?”
He set the tool box in its usual place near the back of the porch. “I saw the way she cut a wide path around them when she climbed in the wagon.” Before she could ask more, he added, “Oh, by the way, I talked to the mercantile owner as well as the hardware manager. As of tomorrow, you’ll have credit from both, providing I produce a signed note from you with a list of those authorized to charge. They asked that you pay the bill at the end of each month, and I assured them that as your bookkeeper I’d be by in person to do exactly that.”
“You’re joking?” No one living out by the tracks had ever had credit. “How did you talk them into such a thing?”
He smiled. “I told them I didn’t look forward to boarding the train to Cedar Point every time I needed to buy your supplies.”
Nell was almost speechless. “And they thought you were serious?”
He turned slowly, looking her directly in the eyes. “I was serious. If I’m to be your bookkeeper, even for a short time, my job is to straighten out your accounts.” He grinned. “And both those men needed straightening. They realized I could have taken the train to Cedar Point, bought supplies, and been back before dark.”
Mr. Harrison said the words so simply, no one would have argued that he meant them. She’d tried to convince the town’s merchants to allow her to have an account. She’d even had the sheriff talk to them. “You threatened them?”
He shook his head. “No, miss. I just stated a fact. There’s a difference, and they knew it. When Marla walked in for supplies, they were right in thinking she wouldn’t board the train, and old Gypsy, even if she took the wagon to town, wouldn’t travel all day to pick up supplies.” He raised an eyebrow. “But I would have, and they knew it. I gave them a day to check with the banker to make sure you have plenty in your account to cover usual items. Tomorrow Marla may put her purchases on your bill and not have to worry about having enough cash.”
Nell smiled. “Mr. Harrison, I could kiss you.”
He stiffened
. “Please, Miss Smith, not until we’re officially engaged.”
Now Nell laughed. She admired Harrison, but he would never be the type of man with whom she’d fall in love. But, as he’d pointed out, love wasn’t always a consideration in a bargain of marriage.
Ill at ease with so much conversation, he excused himself and went inside to wash up.
When Harrison was gone, Nell straightened in her chair, trying to keep her back from aching. She wondered if he were being polite, or if the thought of her kissing him, even as a thank-you, might be repulsive to him. She’d noticed some people didn’t touch her. It seemed as if they thought they might catch whatever she had that kept her from walking. She thought of reminding them that one doesn’t catch bad luck.
The sheriff ’s buggy rattled across the breeze, announcing his arrival even before he was halfway to the house. He climbed out with stiff legs and grinned when he saw her on the porch. “I brought your mail out,” he yelled, as if she couldn’t hear him from ten feet away. “And three boxes of stuff you ordered. I swear, I used to think of myself as the pony express delivering mail out here, but these days I’m more like a pack mule. Ever’ time I stop by, they’ve got boxes stacked up for you.”
For a second, Nell gripped the arms of the chair as if to rise and help. Then, in less then a blink, she remembered. Funny how sometimes for a fraction in time, she would forget her limits. She felt like a prisoner who couldn’t remember the doors were locked.
Sheriff Parker brought each box and placed it in her lap so she could open them one at a time. Gypsy wandered out of the house to help.
The first box held material. Soft white cotton for gowns and aprons. Solid blue fabric to bind the flour-sack squares they’d quilted when the weather had been bad. Fine lace she’d bought for no reason at all.