He wanted to know why Martha Haney had visited Harrison Graves and what she took with her when she left. And only one person could give him that answer.
So he knocked lightly on Harrison’s study door, hoping the man was awake, alone and ready for an unexpected visitor.
“Come in,” the cattleman called from within.
Tom turned the brass knob, stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
Harrison sat at his desk, shrunken—now just a temporary fixture in the office he once ruled. Sunlight streamed through the window behind him, giving him a heavenly glow and reminding Tom of how little time the man had left.
“I’m leaving for the girl,” Tom said. “But I’d like to ask you a few questions before I go.”
Harrison motioned toward the leather chair in front of the large desk, then studied him momentarily. “Have a seat. What do you want to know?”
“I heard Martha Haney came by to visit you about six months ago.” Tom pulled out the chair and sat. “Do you mind if I ask what she wanted?”
The question seemed to take Harrison by surprise, but he held a blank expression as he studied Tom warily. “She wanted the name of a detective I’d used in the past.”
“And you gave it to her?”
Harrison nodded. “I probably would have been more inquisitive, but I felt faint and wanted to get rid of her before I keeled over and embarrassed myself.”
“Did Mrs. Haney mention why she wanted an investigator?”
“No, but about that same time, someone had broken into the Haney house and stolen some heirloom jewelry. I assumed it had something to do with following an old employee.”
“Why didn’t Jeremiah approach you?” Tom asked.
“He was out of town at the time.”
“It seems he’s away from home a lot.” Tom watched Harrison carefully, trying to gauge what the old man thought.
Harrison leaned back in his chair and placed his elbows on the armrest. “He has a lot of business to take care of.”
“Maybe Martha was suspicious of her husband.”
“Of Jeremiah?” Harrison snorted. “I wouldn’t doubt it. The man played around more than most men would. I suppose he still does.”
Tom bit back his opinion. He didn’t trust a man who was unfaithful to his wife. Sure, some men thought it was part of their nature to exercise their prowess, but if a man couldn’t hold himself to a marital vow, Tom found little to admire or to trust in him. People were either loyal and honest or they weren’t.
“Did Martha mention anything about Jeremiah?” he asked.
“If she actually wanted to have him followed, I don’t think she’d tell me. She would have been worried that I would have tried to talk her out of it. Or that I would have told Randolph. But like I said, I was in no mood to quiz her, and she didn’t explain.” Harrison crossed his arms. “For the most part, I tried to appease her. Jeremiah had confided in me that the woman was acting very strange.”
“Was she?”
Harrison threw his hands up. “She’s a woman. They all act a bit strange, if you ask me.”
“I suppose they do,” Tom said, thinking of Katie and cracking a slight smile. “Who did you suggest she contact?”
“Cord Rainville. I’d gotten his name from a friend of mine. I’d heard he was a good man—smart, trustworthy, discreet. He lost his wife and child in a fire a couple of years ago and took it hard. I was told that he tends to drink to forget, but that he’s good at what he does and will get the job done.”
That struck Tom as odd. “Why didn’t you ask him to look for Caroline? Why did you hire me?”
“Actually, I tried. Cord had a job out of state, and my schedule didn’t fit his. I hear he might be back now.”
“Where can I find him?”
“Rio Seco.”
That was a three-to-four-hour ride from Stillwater.
“Do you know whether Martha Haney ever contacted him?” Tom asked.
“No, I don’t. What’s on your mind?”
“Just a hunch.” Tom didn’t know if he dared to share his suspicions.
Harrison eyed him critically. “You don’t think it had anything to do with Caroline, do you?”
“I have a bad feeling about all of this, sir.”
“You said that before, but I’m sure you understand my reluctance to believe it.”
Tom had meant to spare Harrison as much of the ugliness as possible, but the man had to face the truth. “Caroline’s daughter witnessed an attack on the woman Caroline met at Casa de Los Angelitos. The trauma left the child mute.”
“Just exactly where is the girl now?”
“She’s safe. But it wasn’t that difficult for me to find Caroline, even though she moved several times—once in the dead of night. I think she was running from someone. And Jeremiah Haney traveled a lot. I also have reason to believe that he’s known where Caroline was all along.”
Harrison’s lips tightened. “Don’t let your thoughts wander in that direction. Jeremiah loved Caroline. She was like a sister to him.”
Tom could taste the bitterness that rose in his throat. “But he wasn’t her brother.”
“No, but as children, they—”
“No, sir.” Tom shook his head. “Jeremiah was more than ten years older than Caroline. He never thought of her as a sister.”
Harrison frowned. “How would you know how he felt about her?”
Because a brother would look out for his sister. He would have done anything he could to help her, to find her, to bring her home.
“It’s just a gut feeling,” Tom said.
“You seem to have a lot of those.”
“I haven’t been wrong very often.”
“You’re wrong this time.” Harrison slowly scooted his chair from the desk.
“I hope so.” But as Tom stood, he knew his intuition was too strong to discredit any longer.
“When will you leave for Sarah Jane? I don’t have to tell you how anxious I am to meet her. Your horse should be rested by now.”
“Soon,” Tom said, implying he would go immediately after Sarah Jane, but that wasn’t his intent. First he would go to Rio Seco.
“Will you take Miss O’Malley?”
“No, I’ll leave her here. I think it might be a good idea if you took the time to get to know her.”
“She asked if she could raise the child.” Harrison’s tired blue eyes searched Tom’s as though he wanted his opinion.
“She’d be a good mother,” Tom said.
Now, if he could only convince himself the child would live to adulthood, everything would work out fine.
* * *
Just after breakfast, while Katie read a book in Caroline’s room, a horse whinnied, drawing her attention. She might have ignored the sound, but curiosity got the better of her, and she padded to the window. After drawing the curtains aside, she peered out and spotted Tom leading one of the ranch horses from the stable, a saddlebag draped over his shoulder.
Where in the world was he going? And why wasn’t he taking his own horse, Caballo?
If he thought he would sneak off without telling her what he was up to, he was horribly mistaken. She dashed out of the house and entered the yard, just as he was about to mount a dun gelding.
“Are we going somewhere?” Katie asked, while catching her breath. She batted a loose strand of hair from her eye.
He turned slowly, then looked her up and down. “I’m going somewhere for a while.”
“Without telling me?”
His eyes swept over her again, this time granting her an appreciative smile. “I didn’t think I needed to.”
Katie stood tall and crossed her arms. “Under the circumstances, we’re partners of a sort. And you at least owe me the courtesy of telling me where you’re going. Or giving
me the opportunity to go with you.”
“I’m going to speak to a man named Cord Rainville. Martha Haney had asked Harrison to refer her to a private investigator, and I’d like to know why. And since I need to be back late tonight, I’ll be riding fast and hard. So I’m going alone.”
“What’s wrong with Caballo?” she asked.
“Nothing’s wrong with him. I’m leaving for Sarah Jane tomorrow before dawn, and I want my horse to be fresh.”
Katie still didn’t like the idea of being left behind.
“How do I know you’ll be back tonight?” she asked.
“Because I told you I would.” He touched her chin with the tip of a finger, the smile leaving his face. The intensity of his gaze took the fight from her. “Have I ever lied to you?”
“No,” she answered again, realizing he hadn’t. At least, not that she knew of.
He dropped his hand to his side, but his eyes remained on hers, unwavering. “May I suggest that you start considering the type of people you put your faith in? There are those who lie and those you don’t. There are some who can be trusted, some who can’t. Think long and hard about it, Katie. Your life, and the lives of those around you, could depend upon your ability to tell the difference.”
“I will, but you have to admit, you don’t say much to me at all. A person can lie by omitting the truth.”
He shrugged, then turned toward the gelding.
Katie grabbed him by the arm, amazed at the swirl of goose bumps that fluttered over her whenever she and Tom touched. Did he feel it, too?
“Tom,” she said softly, drawing his attention.
He turned warily, but his gaze fixed on hers.
“If there was something I should know, would you tell me?”
“Yes.” His eyes grazed hers. “But the real question is, would you listen?”
Katie smiled. “I’d certainly give it a great deal of thought.”
A grin brushed his lips as humor sparked in the depths of his eyes. Something else sparked, too. Something she didn’t recognize.
Her stomach turned topsy-turvy. What was happening here? Had they reached a different level of familiarity? An intimacy?
Affection, maybe?
Katie almost preferred to get angry at the man rather than cope with this rush of uncomfortable and enigmatic emotions. She took a deep breath, wanting to broach another subject. “I overheard Maria talking to Abel earlier. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but she asked him if you were Caroline’s brother.”
Tom stiffened, then scanned the empty yard. “What did Abel say?”
“He didn’t answer.”
Tom didn’t respond, either.
“Is it true?” she prodded. “Are you Caroline’s brother?”
“Let it go, Katie. Some things are better left alone.”
She suspected, that if the answer had been no, he would have come out and said so. And her heart ached for the boy he’d been, for the hurt he must have suffered when he’d been cast out by the family who should have nurtured him.
Yet here he was, determined to protect Caroline’s daughter, as well as her memory.
Katie reached out and touched his cheek, her fingers in plain contrast to his copper-colored skin. “What was your mother’s name?”
“What does it matter?”
“It matters to me.”
He studied her as if trying to decide if she was sincere or not. Apparently he decided she was. “Her name was Runs With Horses.”
Katie smiled. “I wish I could have met her.”
“Why?”
“So I could tell her that she had a brave and loyal son. And that she could be proud of the man he grew up to be.”
Tom placed his callused hand over hers and brushed his thumb over her knuckles. “I don’t like leaving you here, but knowing you’ll stay on the ranch and keep away from the Haneys would make me feel a lot better about it.”
Katie’s heart fluttered like a swarm of honeybees soaring over a meadow of wildflowers.
Would he kiss her again?
He’d said he wouldn’t, but suddenly she wanted his arms around her, his lips on hers. And while her pride begged her to pretend that she couldn’t care less whether he did or didn’t, her heart leaped when he dropped the saddlebag to the ground, then wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her lips to his.
* * *
Tom knew he’d be sorry for this later, but he couldn’t help himself. His mouth came down on Katie’s, as if making a claim on her, as if making some kind of promise.
Yet something deep within him called out for reason, and he sobered.
What was he doing? He was yearning for a woman that would never be his, dreaming of a life that he could never have.
This madness had to stop, and it certainly looked as though Katie wasn’t going to do anything to help him. So he pulled his lips from hers, took a step back and dropped his arms to his sides.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
Yes, something was terribly wrong. “This isn’t a game. We can’t keep doing things like this.”
“Like kissing each other?” She cocked her head. “Why not? It’s becoming rather enjoyable.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a half-breed. We also fight like cats and dogs. We’re like oil and water. We don’t mix. Neither one of us wants marriage, at least, not to each other. It would never work out between the two of us. We’re too different.”
“Who said anything about marriage?” she asked.
“You can’t keep kissing me like that and not expect things to progress in a serious direction.”
“When you put it that way...”
“We can talk about this later. Right now, I need to go. The sooner I leave, the sooner I’ll get back.”
“If it makes you feel better,” she said, her voice husky, “I promise not to be with Jeremiah alone.”
He ran his knuckles along her cheek. “That does make me feel better, but I don’t think Jeremiah will be around here very long.”
“Where’s he going?”
“He’s going to follow me.”
She placed her hand on his arm, and worry filled her eyes. “Be careful, Tom.”
He could tell that she meant it, that the games and contests of wits and wills they each had been trying to win had ended, at least for the time being. And that touched him.
“Don’t worry about me. Jeremiah Haney couldn’t track a fat old cow in a snowdrift.” Then he picked up his saddlebag, slung it over the back of the saddle and mounted the gelding.
Considering the fact that she always had an opinion or a comment to make, her silence surprised him. And it pleased him.
He glanced down at her. In the morning breeze, loose strands of auburn hair whipped across her face, and she brushed them aside from her pensive eyes.
“Be careful,” she said again, this time in a near whisper.
Her concern sent a warm rush through his chest. “I’m always careful.”
Then he urged the gelding onward, prepared to bring Jeremiah Haney to his knees.
* * *
Katie’s heart tightened as she watched Tom ride away, handsome, solemn and gallant.
She still didn’t know nearly as much about Tom “Lone Wolf” McCain as she wanted to, but as sure as the sun rose in the east and set in the west, the brooding loner had found a place in her heart. She cared for him deeply.
Could it be love?
Perhaps, but if that were the case, what was she willing to do about it?
Dreams and plans, once carefully structured, tumbled in her mind. Questions, too.
She could pray about it and ask for divine guidance. But ever since her very first run-in with Reverend Codwell back in Pleasant Valley, she’d found herself uneasy in church.
The pompous
and self-righteous minister had called her a rebellious woman so often that she’d found more and more reasons not to attend.
And ultimately, she’d turned away from God, too. Not that she didn’t believe in Him. But He’d... Well, He’d come to seem so distant and not at all like the benevolent Father or the comforting friend she’d once considered Him to be.
A sense of loneliness cloaked her shoulders as she watched Tom ride away, and for the first time since meeting him, she feared for his safety.
Please, Dear God, watch over him, protect him.
And bring him back to me....
She continued to watch Tom ride until she could no longer see him. Then she slowly made her way back to the house.
She entered the vast kitchen, breathing in the scents of beans simmering on the stove and yeast and cinnamon baking in the oven.
Maria stood over the table, skillfully patting balls of dough into round, flat pancakelike circles and humming a tune Katie had never heard before.
The older woman smiled, a smudge of flour on her cheek. “Buenos días.”
“Good morning.” How could she resort to tact and grace when she had only one thought on her mind?
“I have a question, Maria. I’m not sure if you remember this, but years ago, a young Indian woman named Runs With Horses came by here with her son, Lone Wolf. Do you know why she came and why she was sent away?”
Maria sighed and shook her head. “That was a long time ago. She and her boy were hungry. She wanted work and asked if there was anything she could do. The old caretaker, the man who worked in the yard and garden before Abel, felt sorry for them. So did I, but we knew how Señor Graves felt about Indians. His parents had been killed by renegades when he was a child.”
“How long did the woman and boy stay?”
“Señor Graves was not home, so were going to feed them and let them spend the night. But Señor Haney arrived. When he saw them here, he chased them off. He had a walking stick, and he struck the woman with it. She fell down, and that little boy ran at him, swinging his fists. Señor Haney pushed the boy down, then kicked him.” Maria lifted her hand and touched her brow. “His boot cut that boy’s head, and all Señor Haney worried about was the blood on his pants.”
The Rancher's Courtship & Lone Wolf's Lady Page 40