“I’ve had a couple of people in LaMont ask me where I’m finding the oil. Mostly people don’t know what it is, or I s’pose they know and just don’t recognize its value. And I just put it on the train and ship it out fast so no one pays much mind. But a few have noticed. Last time I had to ride the wrong direction out of town then circle around before I lost a man tailing me. Digging that black gold out of the ground is hard work, and I hate it. But much as I hate it, I don’t want to lose it. This is our big score. We need to own it then sell it. We can go to California, buy a hacienda, and settle down for good. No more slavin’ our lives away. But it won’t happen if you don’t get your hooks into that man. You’re gonna lose everything for us.”
Prudence nodded. “I’m working on it. I may have found a way in, too. The man needs clothes—anyone can see that just by looking at the rags he and his children wear. I’m watching to catch him alone and that’s the tricky part. I’ve already offered to do sewing for him, but so far he keeps refusing. I suppose he’s got no money. But I’ll offer to work cheap. I’ll get him. My business is getting a little better. A few men want me to sew them a shirt from time to time. No more women than there are in town to sew, I’m making a slim go of it. But Grant’s never come in with an order.”
“Make it quick. You’re gonna have to come up with somethin’ better than sewin’ pretty soon. If you can’t get next to the man, how’re you gonna get him to marry with you?”
“Yeah, and how am I gonna be a widow who inherits his land if I can’t get him to marry me?”
“You’ve never had trouble before, Prudy. Use your head, use your body, use what’s left of that pretty face, and figure out a way to compromise that cowpoke. He don’t look like he’ll be any trouble to fool if you just once get your chance at him.”
“I am using my head. Why don’t you use yours? You shouldn’t be in here today. Someone’s gonna see that I’ve got a man staying with me. We’ll either have to lie about you being here or explain who you are, and then there’ll be questions we don’t want to answer.”
Horace stood from the table, swiping his sleeve across his mouth. “Too bad.”
“Well, when you’re found out, you’ll ruin everything.”
“Watch your mouth. I’m holding up my end of the bargain.” He strode across the room and shoved her back. “You hold up yours.”
“You dig in the dirt and keep your head down. I take all the risks. When he turns up dead, they’ll look to me, not you, you stupid oaf.” Prudent felt the thrill of fear that came when she goaded him, knowing how he’d react. “And now you’re ruining it by being in here. You’re a fool, Horace. A lowdown, half-witted, old coot.”
Horace backhanded her.
She slammed into the wall. Stars exploded before her eyes. Her tongue touched the blood pouring from her split lip.
Grabbing the collar of her dress, he drew back his fist.
“Not my face, you stinking pig!”
Ruthlessly, he squeezed until he cut off her air.
She clawed at his strangling hand. Her nails drew blood on his rough knuckles.
Wrenching her to her tiptoes, he went for her stomach.
EIGHT
Humpf! Take those children right out from under my nose, will you?”
Hannah set out in the same direction she’d taken yesterday. Only this time she wasn’t blinded by a blizzard. Instead she was blinded by her temper.
All through the ride she talked to herself, working up her indignation. It helped to keep her mind off the unfriendly horse.
She’d barely taken the time to write her usual letter to Grace. Hannah made a point of mailing off a letter to Mosqueros every time it looked as if she’d be in one place for a while. But she’d always moved on before a letter could come, assuming Grace even got it. Assuming Grace was alive and could write back.
In her heart, Hannah knew Grace would never have had time to receive Hannah’s letter and write an answer. That gave Hannah hope for the sister who seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth almost four years ago. Had Parrish caught her? Was Grace, even now, back in Parrish’s clutches, living as a prisoner, forced into hard labor?
She had a few pennies left. Hannah wanted to send the letter quickly so Grace could have the news if the letter ever reached her.
The horse jumped sideways at its own shadow and Hannah almost fell off. She went back to paying attention to the horse.
And thinking of one ornery beast led her thoughts directly to another. Grant.
“Refuse to send them to my school?” Hannah found the thicket. The horse wanted to nibble.
“Say my school isn’t worthy?” She found the wagon wheel. The horse stopped to scratch his backside against it.
Prodding the old nag she’d rented, at last a tiny cabin appeared a mile or so in front of her, tucked in front of a ragged line of mountains. The ramshackle building was about a fourth the size of the barn that stood beside it.
Screaming erupted ahead.
Frantic, Hannah kicked her horse to get it moving. It reacted poorly to that and crow-hopped. It left Hannah behind on the second hop. She landed hard and broke through the rapidly melting snow to an impressive stand of buffalo burrs. Hannah heard her dress rip. The sound almost made her heart skip a beat. It was the only dress she had.
The horse, showing more energy than it had demonstrated up until now, took off running back the way it had come.
Hannah wanted to rub her sore backside and scold her horse and generally cry her eyes out, but the screaming kept her from doing any of that. She leapt to her feet and ran.
Grant dropped the reins on the horse he’d been leading in from the corral and ran.
He got inside the barn in time to see Benny reel backward and land on the seat of his pants.
Rushing past the other children, Grant grabbed Charlie’s upraised arm and wrenched the tree branch out of his hand.
“Give it back!” Charlie lunged at the branch.
Grant held it overhead, out of reach. Charlie clutched Grant’s arm and used it for leverage to jump at his weapon. Grant grabbed hold of the boy’s arms, and Charlie proceeded to kick him.
“Joshua, put my horse up.” Grant grunted with the impact of Charlie’s flailing hands and feet and glanced over his shoulder at his oldest son.
Marilyn rushed into the barn, carrying Libby. Sadie was right behind them.
“Yes, Pa.” Joshua was as tall as a man. Right now his intelligent brown eyes were grave. He went outside to round up the pinto gelding Grant had let loose on account of the screaming.
Marilyn, sixteen and as pretty as she was sweet—and relatively new to the family—said, “Let’s go in the house, Benny. We need to wash that cut.”
“Not just yet, Marilyn.” A sharp kick on the ankle almost made Grant let Charlie go, but he hung on doggedly and the boy finally quit fighting. “We have to settle this.”
Grant looked down at Charlie’s belligerent face. “There’s no call to be so upset. There’s room for everyone at the Rocking C.”
“I’ve been on my own before.” Charlie resumed his struggle against Grant’s hold. “I’m not staying squashed into that stupid house.”
“Settle down, son.” Grant’s heart ached as he caught Charlie’s shirt collar to further subdue him. He hated putting his hands on his children with anything other than complete kindness.
“I’m not your son!” Charlie jerked against Grant’s hold. “Don’t call me your son!”
Benny, too courageous for his own good, climbed to his feet and faced Charlie. “I’ll help you hold him, Pa.”
Charlie threw himself at Benny and would have hit him if Grant hadn’t restrained him.
Grant shook his head. “I’ve got him, Benny. Thanks.”
Libby edged up beside Marilyn. Grant could see Libby was already adopting the oldest girl as a substitute mother, but she had an attachment to Charlie from the train, and worry had cut a crease in Libby’s smooth brow.
&n
bsp; “Stop it, Charlie.” Joshua returned, leading the pinto into a stall alongside the line of well-fed horses. “We’ve got room for everyone.”
“Yeah,” Sadie snipped. “Everyone was good to you when you came home with Pa last night. You gotta be good to us back.”
Charlie didn’t look at his brothers and sisters. He kept glaring at Benny.
Grant spoke quietly in Charlie’s ear. “I don’t blame you for being angry. It wouldn’t be normal if you weren’t.”
Charlie struggled. Benny wiped at a trickle of blood dripping into his eyes.
“I can see how badly you want a family, Charlie. I know I’m too busy to pay you the kind of attention you’d hoped for from a pa. And you’re going to have to share everything. It’s not the family you dreamed of.”
Some of the fire cooled in Charlie’s eyes.
“I can sleep in the barn for a while, Pa,” Joshua offered. “Charlie can have his own room. I know how he feels. If it gets too cold, I can get a bedroll and sleep by the kitchen stove like you.”
Grant shook his head. “No child gets brought into this home and then gets shoved out into a cold barn.”
“But right at first, to Charlie, it’s important to have his own space.” Joshua came and stood at Grant’s side. Grant realized he could look straight into his son’s eyes. “I don’t need much.”
“He don’t want you in the barn.” Charlie renewed his wrestling against Grant’s firm hold. “He wants you inside with him. I’m the one he’ll heave out into the cold.”
Grant saw the burn of tears in Charlie’s eyes. But Grant knew Charlie wouldn’t cry. There’d been enough pain in his new son’s life that nothing could shake tears loose anymore. Add to that the real fear that a show of weakness would set the other children on him like a wounded animal chased by a wolf pack and there’s no way the boy would cry.
“How long have you been here?” Charlie snarled at Benny.
“I’ve been here almost three years.”
Charlie quit struggling. Grant saw his surprise. “You must have been just a baby. They put babies on the orphan trains?”
Benny shrugged. “Pa says I was so young it didn’t make no sense. That’s why no one chose me. But Pa did.”
Benny nodded at Marilyn. “Marilyn’s just been here a few months.”
Charlie looked at Pa. “The orphan trains come through that often?”
“No, Marilyn was living in an alley in LaMont. I found her there when we drove some cattle in to sell.”
“The orphan train doesn’t come through this route more than once every year or two,” Sadie added.
“But whether we came on a train or some other way, we’ve all been through this.” Joshua wiped the sweat from his shining black brow. He’d been cleaning stalls. “Pa brings new kids home all the time. Sadie ’n’ me were with the first group of kids he adopted. We’ve been here ten years and we’ve seen lots of new brothers and sisters. He doesn’t throw the old ones out or love the new ones more. He has enough love to go around.”
“God has given Pa a heart that has more room in it than this whole wide Western land,” Sadie said.
Grant’s heart ached at hearing Sadie’s kind words.
Charlie glanced at Grant, then at his other brothers and sisters, then back at Benny. He scowled.
“We’re all orphans,” Grant said. “Me included. I know exactly what your life has been like because I’ve lived the same one.” Since the boy hadn’t taken a swing at anyone for a full thirty seconds, Grant took a chance and released Charlie, then came around and hunkered down to his eye level.
“All of us have,” Marilyn assured.
“We know how it is,” Sadie nodded.
“That’s why I can’t let Joshua live in the barn.” Grant silently prayed that Charlie would understand. “I have to treat Joshua right, and I’m going to treat you right, too. Can’t you see that a parent who loves one child more than another hurts the child he loves as much as the one he doesn’t love? If I treated you better than Joshua, I’d be hurting you both. I’ll never desert you, no matter how angry you get. I know what it’s like to hate the whole world just because it hurts too much to hope for something good.”
“It’s all right, Pa.” Joshua said. “I can sleep in the barn. No matter where I am, I know you love me and I know God is always with me.”
Grant focused on Charlie. “When you’re alone in the world, God is a really good idea. It’s the best lesson you’ll ever learn. God will never fail you. He’ll go with you wherever you end up.” He smiled at the confused, angry little boy.
A deep longing appeared on Charlie’s face then was wiped away by rage. “Why would God love a kid when his own parents don’t?” Charlie gave Benny a violent shove, knocked him down, then whirled and ran out of the barn.
The whole family watched Charlie go.
“You think he’ll run away?” Joshua crossed his arms.
“Maybe.” Grant sighed. “But he can’t get far. I’ll talk to him. He’ll get over being mad.”
“I think I’d better go after him, Pa,” Benny said. “I’m the one he has a problem with.”
“No, he might hurt you again. I don’t know all he’s been through.” Grant frowned and rubbed at the deep furrows that cut across his forehead. “But I can imagine.”
“That’s okay. I can take it. I’ll watch out for branches, and if he wants to take a swing at me, well, I don’t mind if he works off a little temper on me.”
Grant shook his head, “Benny, thank you, but—”
“You let these children work their tempers off with fistfights?” Hannah rushed into the barn and hurried over to Benny. She immediately pulled a handkerchief out of her sleeve and began fussing over Benny’s bleeding temple.
“What kind of a madhouse do you run here, I’d like to know?”
NINE
If this was a madhouse, Grant was the man in charge when he should have been an inmate.
Hannah had a good mind to shove him into a straitjacket right here on the spot.
She dropped to her knees and dabbed at the blood-soaked cut on Benny’s head. “This looks ghastly! We need to get him to town to a doctor.” Hannah felt her sleeve drop off her shoulder in the back. It was still stitched on the front, hanging by a few threads. She ignored it, too worried about Benny’s cut to care about her dress.
“I’m okay, really, Miss Cartwright.” Benny patted her hand. “I think it’s already quit bleeding.”
“You’re very brave.” Hannah comforted him. “But you’re just a child. You can’t see how serious this is.”
At that moment, Grant caught Hannah’s hands and pulled them away from Benny’s head, then lifted her to her feet until their noses almost touched. “Quit fussing over him. He’s all right.”
“He is not all right.” Hannah wrenched her hands against his steely, work-roughened grip. “He’s hurt and bleeding. You can’t just stand by and do nothing while these children harm each other.”
Grant didn’t even seem to notice her pathetic efforts to pull away.
“It’s a head wound, ma’am,” a black boy nearly as tall as Grant said politely. “Everyone knows they bleed like crazy.”
As she jerked against Grant’s hold, the last stitch on her sleeve gave up the ghost and the fabric fell the rest of the way down to her wrist. Grant’s eyes zeroed in on her bare arm, and humiliated, she looked over at the boy who had spoken to her then looked at all the children who stood behind Grant as if they were lined up against her.
She was making a fool of herself fighting Grant’s superior strength. She quit struggling and drew herself up to her full height. She came to Grant’s chin.
Grant said with mild menace, “Do I have your attention?”
“You do.” She spoke through gritted teeth.
Grant, without looking away from Hannah, asked, “Sadie, what work do you do around here?”
Hannah identified Sadie by the way she stood straighter and took a step closer
to Grant. Her dark eyes glowed out of the ebony skin on her face. “I cook the meals with Marilyn and now Libby.”
Hannah had been so upset about Benny’s bleeding that she hadn’t even given her little sister a look yet. She noticed Libby clinging to Marilyn, but when Sadie said Libby helped with the cooking, Libby beamed.
Sadie took the bloody handkerchief out of Hannah’s confined hand and pressed it against Benny’s head while she went on. “I wash a couple of batches of clothes a day and I keep the cabin straightened. I sew for the family and I ride out with the herd in the afternoon if I have time.”
“Do you ever get any time to rest or have fun?” Grant asked, still staring into Hannah’s eyes, holding her secure.
A flare of heat climbed up Hannah’s cheeks.
Benny took over tending his wound.
Sadie stepped back beside Grant, tugged at her tightly curled black hair that had escaped from a bun, and tucked it behind her ear. “Well, sure, Pa. I go along when there’s a church social. And I spend time every evening reading.”
“Marilyn, how about you? Miss Cartwright is the new schoolteacher. She thinks I work you children too hard. What do you do around here?”
“The same as Sadie.” Marilyn was as fair as Sadie was dark. Her fine hair was pulled into a flyaway braid that hung down nearly to her waist. Every hair that had escaped curled. Her eyes were blue under slim arched brows. Her skin was deeply tanned, and she was almost a foot taller than Sadie. “I’m also working on a patchwork quilt and I help with the younger children, see to their baths and help them with their studies and such.”
“Do you have any fun, ever?”
“Since Wilbur’s been sparkin’ me, I have him over of an evening, and sometimes we go for a buggy ride or the whole family goes to a church social. And I spend time reading, too.”
“Miss Cartwright seems to think you’re a slave,” Grant said in a voice so acid it nearly burned Hannah’s skin.
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