by Jodi Thomas
James knew if he was wrong, he’d be in real trouble. He walked over to the kid, who raised his head until one blue eye glared up at him.
“You’re coming with me, Andy. Your sister Millie is waiting for you.”
The flash sparked in the boy’s eye so fast James would have missed it if he hadn’t been staring. But it was there. His name, or maybe his sister’s, had brought back a memory.
Turning to the sergeant, James said, “I’ll need a wagon and all the rope you can spare. I’m taking him back to his family.”
“You want chains?” Gunther grinned, happy to see one of his problems leaving.
“No. I’ll tie him up so he doesn’t run. I don’t consider him a prisoner.” James raised his voice. “If he cooperates, there will be no need for chains.”
The sergeant looked at one of the men. “Loan him a wagon and all the rope you can find. Pull down the third noose and toss that in, too.” The big man glared at James. “You’re taking quite a risk, Kirkland. What’s the kid to you, anyway?”
James shrugged. “I think he’s about to be my brother-in-law.”
The sergeant’s laughter shook the building. When he finally calmed down, he ordered everyone to help tie the kid in the wagon. As they walked outside he added, “I married a woman once without meeting her mother. When she came to live with us, I swore she was the devil’s sister, but, Kirkland, she was nothing compared to this kid. If I were you I’d give up sleep permanently.”
Six men saddled up to escort James far enough away to be out of the fort’s territory. After that, they would be on their own. For a moment James feared he might not be up to the task. They had many miles to cover, and he couldn’t stay awake all the way back even with a bloodthirsty wild kid waiting for his chance to kill him.
While two men stood guard the first night, James tried to catch up on sleep, but the boy worried him. First, he feared Andy might kill one of the guards trying to get away, or if he tried and failed, the guards might gang up on him and murder Andy while James slept. All six seemed like good men. They also all had bruises, and none treated Andy as though he was anything more than an animal.
Traveling by wagon was slow. They would be lucky to make half the distance he’d made on horseback. With the wagon, they had to follow roads and couldn’t cut across country.
By the third day James was tired of listening to the prisoner kick and struggle with the ropes, so he started talking.
He wasn’t sure if his talking bothered Andy, but it sure bothered the guards. They said their quick farewell as soon as James woke the fourth morning on the trail. All at once he was alone with a tied-up kid.
Unlike Millie, Andrew O’Grady, if that was his name, didn’t silently ignore him. James might not know the language, but he had no doubt that he and all his ancestors were being cussed out. Every time James said something, Andy shot back with what had to be an insult.
Judging from the fire in his eyes, Andrew would happily murder James if he got the chance.
After two sleepless nights James was happy to see a town. He talked the sheriff into locking the boy up, his hands and feet still tied. While Andy gulped down a meal, James went to sleep a few cells away.
The kid must have been just as tired because the sheriff said they both slept the clock around.
The next day as they started off, James didn’t secure Andrew with as many ropes as usual. Dark clouds promised rain and the boy looked as though he planned to sleep the day away. Some of the fight must have gone out of him, or maybe Andy had realized James meant him no harm. Though James still talked about the ranch he would build someday, Andy stopped yelling back. He might not be listening, but at least he was quiet. James saw that as progress.
That night, both were soaking wet by the time they made camp inside a rough lean-to built for travelers. James let the kid sit by the fire and eat his supper. He wasn’t friendly. For the most part he simply ignored James—until Andy took a few swings at him. James tied him to the wagon wheel but left enough lead so that Andy could curl up under the wagon to sleep.
The next morning when James woke, the boy was gone. After he cussed himself for a few minutes he realized two things. Andy hadn’t taken any of the horses and he hadn’t tried to kill him in his sleep.
Both facts pointed to one thing: the boy was in a big hurry. Must’ve been almost first light when he’d worked himself free.
Using skills he’d learned in the war, James began to track the kid. The rain had stopped, but the mud made tracking easy. Five hours later he found him asleep in a pile of leaves at the base of a tree. He must have run as far as he could and then collapsed in exhaustion. The boy was dirty, cold, bone-thin and still rough as they come. If he lived to be a man, he just might be worth the knowing.
Funny, the tough kid didn’t look near as mean curled up in sleep. He looked more like a frightened child.
James stood above him, really seeing him for the first time. Despite all his fire and anger, he was still just a boy.
Slipping a rope gently over Andy’s wrists, James circled a loop around the tree behind Andy and secured it. He tugged hard and sat on the boy’s chest.
Andy woke with a start, but couldn’t move. His hands were pulled above him and James’s weight held him down.
“Now, I’m only going to say this once, Andy.” James hoped the kid understood. He pointed south. “I’m taking you to Millie. If you keep fighting and running, we’re never going to get there... She told me your mother called you Andrew Jackson O’Grady when she was angry. So, Andrew, listen up. We’re going back to your sister one way or the other. You’re all the family she has and Millie remembers you whether or not you remember her. Now, will you go along without a fight or should I just sit awhile right here?”
The boy simply stared for a long moment. Then, to his surprise, Andy nodded once.
James had gotten through to the kid. He could see it in the boy’s eyes. Andy might still hate him, but he remembered his sister’s name and if he had to, he’d put up with James to get to her.
Slowly, holding the rope tight, James stood. If they didn’t reach some kind of a peace he doubted either of them would make it back to Fort Worth.
Andy waited for him to remove the rope from the tree, then the kid followed James, his hands still bound.
“Millie,” James said as he waited for the boy to climb into the wagon.
To his surprise, Andy nodded once and rolled into the wagon bed.
It might not be peace, but at least it wasn’t all-out war. James could live with that, he decided as he looped the ropes over Andy’s hands and feet. “I’ll get you back to Millie. I promise.”
James secured to the kid to the wagon during the day, but Andy no longer fought or yelled. He seemed to be waiting to see what would happen next. As the days passed, James gave up trying to talk to the kid but he never let his guard down.
He thought about Millie and what he’d say to her when he finally made it back. There was so much he’d never said. At night he dreamed of holding her. Each day he pushed the horses as hard as he could, but the trip seemed endless.
Deep inside he knew Millie was waiting, missing him just as dearly.
* * *
WHEN THEY REACHED Fort Worth, James stopped by the ranger office for Drew Price. If the ranger thought it strange that James had a boy tied in the back of the wagon, he made no comment.
“I dropped by Mrs. Harris’s house every morning, Captain,” Drew said as if reporting in. “Your Millie is doing well. I’ve always heard that the widow could do wonders, but I’d never seen it before. Two days after you left she had Millie wearing proper clothes. Yesterday, the two of them were talking so much, laughing about their cooking lessons, that I could hardly get a word in.”
“Millie was talking?” James had seen her smile a few times, bu
t never laugh.
“Sure. She talks. Goes slow sometimes, like she’s tasting a word before she spits it out, but she’s talking.” Drew hesitated. “Is she your woman, Captain, or are you just helping her out?”
James didn’t want to answer the question. The hundred times he’d sworn he’d never marry sat in his mind. He ached to hold her, but if he were being honest he’d have to admit she didn’t belong to him. “She’s not mine.”
When he glanced over at Drew, James frowned. The young ranger was smiling.
Telling himself he needed to check on her, James wouldn’t admit that he couldn’t wait to see her. He slapped the reins. A few minutes later they were climbing out of the wagon and hauling Andy into Mrs. Harris’s house with them.
The fight was back in the boy. He struggled to get loose, but it wasn’t full-out war. Maybe he was finally afraid of something...facing a world he’d once known.
When James stumbled into the parlor the two women turned from their sewing. Mrs. Harris looked surprised, but Millie jumped up and ran to him. She was dressed in calico and lace; a proper young lady now with combs in her hair and an apron around her waist.
She was almost in his arms when she spotted Drew Price in the doorway, holding the boy.
She went pale, and for a moment James thought she might faint. She moved slowly to the door and stared at the boy. They were almost the same height. Even through the layers of dirt and bruises on Andrew there was no doubt that the two were related.
Reaching out, she gently touched the bruises that marked his arms, then glanced back at James.
“He was in worse shape when I picked him up,” he said. “Fought everyone who came near. Not one bruise is my doing, Millie. You have my word.”
She nodded and turned back to the boy. “Andy,” she whispered. “My brother.”
The boy watched her, not as accepting or trusting as she was. Finally he spoke to her in Apache. Only a few words, but Millie seemed to understand.
She nodded then translated his words for James. “He asked if I am from his tribe long ago.”
James let out a breath that he felt he’d been holding for almost two weeks. He’d found her brother.
He watched as Millie untied Andy’s hands and pulled him to the table. Drew, James and Mrs. Harris watched quietly as brother and sister talked, mixing Apache with English.
An hour later Mrs. Harris served them pie, which Andy ate with his hands. As soon as he finished his slice, he pulled the pan over and began to finish off the entire pie.
Without comment, Millie moved to the seating area off the kitchen so she could talk to the others and still watch Andy. “He says he will not run unless I go with him.” She smiled at James. “I told him I wish to stay with you. I’d like to go back to the winter camp and help build your ranch. You’ve done so much for me, it is the least I can do.”
James smiled. “How did Andrew like that idea?”
“He says if you raise a hand to me, he wants to be close enough to kill you.” She hesitated a minute, then added, “He said if I raise my hand to you, he’ll hold you for me.”
“The open spaces might be a better place to settle the O’Grady clan. I can’t see your Andy walking the streets of Fort Worth dressed as he is.”
“Then we travel northwest with you, James.” She put her hand on his shoulder and leaned her hip against his side.
“It’s time I said good-night,” Drew announced, disappointment in his gaze as he stared at Millie’s hand resting on James’s shirt. “Thanks for the pie, Mrs. Harris, but I hate to see a family fight, especially this one. I have a feeling there are going to be a few before they even get the horses loaded up.”
James laughed. “I was thinking I’d better tie the kid up tonight or, better yet, use one of your jail cells.”
Millie shook her head and James knew that would no longer be an option.
An hour later when he finally pulled Millie into his arms in the hallway, he whispered, “I missed you, Little Dove. Let’s go to bed.” He kissed her soundly, loving the smell of her clean skin and starched clothes.
She pulled away. “No.”
“No?”
“Mrs. Harris said not to lie with a man until marriage.”
“What?” Up to now he’d liked Mrs. Harris. “But, I know you missed me as much as I missed you.” His hand moved over her body, but so many layers of material seemed to block the feel of her.
“If you force me, I will tell my brother.” She stood her ground. “Before there were no rules, but you brought me here and I learned, just as you told me.”
James frowned. He had never forced her into anything and he never would, yet all at once she had this guardian devil watching over her. The kid still looked like he’d gladly run a blade through his chest. Which meant no sleeping together.
The chances of him getting a good night’s sleep were looking slim.
He reluctantly put some space between them. James frowned. He needed to think. All he’d worked for since the war was about to come to fruition. He’d have his ranch and a starter herd. To make a go of it, he’d need every bit of his energy for a year, maybe more. He didn’t have time to take on a wife and her wild little brother. And he wouldn’t be hurried into marriage by what Mrs. Harris said.
A man had a right to make up his own mind about what was right for him and when was the right time. Only, he couldn’t head back without Millie. Any terms she set were fine as long as she came with him.
He stared into her beautiful blue eyes and promised, “I’ll never hurt you, Millie. I broke the beating stick, remember? I’ll never force you into anything and no one, including Mrs. Harris, will force me into marriage. It’s something a man has to step into willingly, not be forced into, if he’s going to settle down and be content.”
The urge to sweep Millie up and ride back to their winter camp was powerful. He wanted the peace of the days on what would be his land and the wild, wonderful nights with this woman in his arms. He wanted what they’d had, but layers far heavier than cotton were keeping them apart.
Big tears welled up in Millie’s blue eyes as she nodded and turned away. Silently she walked down the hallway and disappeared. To James, it was as though she took a piece of his heart with her. She had no idea how much she was asking. He’d been alone, totally alone, almost all his life. He’d survived the war for five long years by never getting close to anyone, not the men he fought with, not the women he’d met along the way.
Marriage was something far in the future, if at all.
Yet somehow this quiet woman and her wild brother had become his family whether he wanted it to happen or not.
He went back into the kitchen where he found Andy bedded down on the floor by the low fire and Millie asleep on the sofa a room away.
Walking toward the little room off the back porch where Mrs. Harris had told him to sleep, James decided he hated himself because no matter what happened he’d regret this decision in a year. If he married Millie, she’d be unhappy. Millie was beautiful, even Ranger Price had noticed. She wouldn’t want to be stuck on a ranch with him. And if he didn’t marry her, he knew he’d miss her and worry about her every day left of his life.
He lay in his bed wishing he could see the stars instead of the ceiling. Sleep didn’t seem to be an option, so he just waited for dawn. In his brain he began list after list of all he’d need to buy and collect to make the trip. He’d have his ranch before fall. Only, he’d be alone.
An hour, maybe more, passed.
Then, as gentle as a breeze, Millie climbed into his bed.
James thought of fighting, or arguing, or demanding they talk, but instead he did something Captain James Kirkland had never done in his life.
He surrendered.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SPRING WARMED T
HE AIR in Fort Worth as Millie waited for James to return from his business dealings as she did every night. Now that her brother was always with her, her canyon man didn’t talk to her as much.
He was busy making all the dreams he had told her about when they were at the winter camp come true. He had land to buy and cattle to choose for breeding his herd. Even when James was near her, there always seemed to be something between them. She missed his rambling about one subject or another. Their nights under the endless sky when they watched for shooting stars were over. She longed to feel him next to her, holding her safe and warm as he slept.
Millie missed the James she’d known. Now everyone called him Captain or Mr. Kirkland. Mrs. Harris whispered once that there was no doubt he would be a very important man one day. The men he hired to work for him were all cut from the same cloth as James. Most weren’t far into their thirties, but they’d been hardened by war and seasoned from cattle drives. All wore chaps and spurs and guns strapped to their legs.
Millie felt as if he’d stepped up as a leader in a world she couldn’t enter. Every night men circled the table poring over maps and numbers. Every morning James was gone before dawn.
Mrs. Harris continued to teach her to cook and sew, and Millie worked with Andrew every day. Her brother wasn’t as hungry to learn as she had been. He gave in to bathing, but he still insisted on wearing his Apache clothes. He spent his mornings beside her, but disappeared into the wooded area every chance he got. In the afternoons he wandered the garden, picking tree branches to fashion into bows.
Late one afternoon, as she watched Andy in the yard, James appeared at her side. “What’s the kid doing?” he asked.
Millie folded her arms, frustrated at her brother. “He’s building an arsenal.”
“I figured that.” James put his arm lightly around her waist. “He sees himself as a warrior. He’s preparing for battle.”
“Who is he going to fight, James?” She fought tears, afraid of the truth.