Wildflower

by Raine Cantrell

  The muffled sound of breaking glass woke Jenny with a start. Disoriented, she sleepily sat up. There was no outcry, nothing that explained the sudden tension filling her. The fire had died to embers and she groped her way to the door, listening.

  “Gran, is that you?” she called softly. Silence came in answer. Had Robby … Her thought remained unfinished. She tore down the dark hallway.

  Candlelight lit the room, and she forced herself to look at the rumpled bed. Robby’s bed. But now it was empty.

  Rain and wind gusted through the broken window and all Jenny could do was stand there, staring at the place where she had rocked her son to sleep.

  Gran’s face was stricken. “I was too late, Jen. I heard a noise, but—”

  “Don’t. Don’t blame yourself.” Her shoulders sagged in defeat. “This is my fault. I should’ve taken Robby and run when I saw Jonas.”

  “Jonas? You think he’s got Robby?”

  But Jenny didn’t answer. She ran for her room. Jonas couldn’t be trusted. She had to go after him. And this time, she vowed, grabbing clothes, this time she’d make sure he couldn’t come back.

  “Jenny, think a minute before you go off half-cocked,” Gran cautioned. “It’s too late to try and track him. Let me call in some markers owed me. Major Allison could help you.”

  Jerking on her shirt, Jenny didn’t glance up. “No. This is between Jonas and me.”

  “But if the major thought Jonas helped Char­mas escape, he would send out patrols to find them.”

  “But he wouldn’t stop him from taking his son. No man would.” Jenny sat, impatiently tugging pants on, reaching for her boots. “What I don’t understand is why Ben betrayed me. He let me think Robby and I were safe all this time.”

  “Ben? Jenny, what—”

  “I tried to kill Jonas.”

  “Don’t make a pile of horsefeathers to me. But what’s this ‘bout Ben?”

  “He knew. I wondered what Ben had done with his body, but he never said and I never asked.” Her voice shook, but her gaze was direct. “If you still want to help me after what I’ve told you—”

  “Killing him was the only choice you had. There’s no time for pity or regrets, Jenny,” she stated in her practical way. “We’ll take what you’ll need from the store and see you gone.”

  “I need a horse and my rifle.”

  “Couldn’t you ask Charmas to help?” Gran asked, a fearful look on her face.

  “Oh God, he went to meet the men that killed Mave Allison and Jonas rode with them!”

  Gran followed her out the door. “Did you tell him about Jonas?”

  “Most of it. The rest doesn’t bear with anyone ever having to know. I wanted to beg him to ride back to the mountains with me, but now I think I sent him to die.”

  “Fool’s talk,” Gran snapped, handing Jenny her poncho. “If he knew he had you waiting, he’ll fight to live.”

  “Don’t you understand!” Jenny raged, grabbing up her rifle. “He’s riding with Jonas. Robby will say something. If those other men killed Mave and set Charmas free, then Charmas is a killer too.” Tormented by her own thoughts, Jenny voiced her desperation. “Since he left me, I’ve been wondering how I could love a man who kills. I hated Jonas enough to pull the trigger on him, and he was the man who created my son. And I’ll do it again. But what if Charmas was helping Jonas? What if he’s just like Jonas and betrays me?”

  “You’re a strong, levelheaded woman, Jenny. Jus’ remember what your pa taught you.” Gran managed a reassuring nod before she closed the door and stared out at Jenny in the rain-swept dark.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Charmas Kilkenny watched the dawn sweep aside the night sky’s cobwebbed clouds over Bent’s Fort. He turned to his friend. “I was wrong to think it would work, Michael. They wanted the money so bad; I gambled too much on that. It’s no consolation knowing that Prado raped Mave before Saul Lomas killed her. Grogan admitted that much before he set me free. He believes I’ll make a deal with them—the money in exchange for my life. It’s the only reason I’m alive. And,” he added, “that fragmented nightmare is explained. I thought I was crazy, dreaming about being hunted, somehow knowing it happened and unable to see who they were. Not that it matters now.”

  “You’re still determined to go after them alone?”

  “Major,” Charmas murmured, “you of all people should not need to ask. But the answer is yes. Too much more’s happened.” Charmas rubbed the ache in his shoulder, thinking of the time he’d lost and now had to recover.

  “I want them badly, Charmas. Not just for killing Mave, but for Sean and the six men that guarded that payroll. They didn’t deserve to die so cold-bloodedly. Not one of their guns was drawn.” Michael Allison studied him thoughtfully. “I know you’ll resent my asking, but think of it as rank’s privilege. Can you trust Jenny Latham not to give you away?”

  Charmas didn’t betray a flicker of emotion. “She doesn’t know enough to give me away. Jenny believes what you told her to be true.” Michael’s intent gaze had him adding, “Oh, she might doubt the part you tried shoving at her about my killing Mave, but as for the rest, my compliments, Michael, she believes it all.”

  “You’re angry with me.”

  “Angry, no, you did what you had to. But I didn’t like it.”

  “Did you expect me to tell her that you were tracking her husband? Or that I believed he robbed an army payroll and shot those men? Dare I risk what you’ve worked on, taking too damn many chances, all these months? If you thought for one minute I could allow pity for her feelings to interfere with what needs to be done, you don’t know me very well, Charmas.”

  “After all this time you can say that?”

  Michael ignored that. “I know too little about her and won’t pry, but I’m concerned. How involved are you with Jenny Latham?”

  With a smoothly-tensioned move, Charmas faced him. Narrowed eyes locked with Michael’s intent gaze. “How long would you say we’ve been friends?”

  “Fifteen years,” he answered without hesitation, annoyed. “I can still see a little of that cocky, raw recruit I had the pleasure of making into one of the finest fighting soldiers this army has known and I’ve ever been privileged to command. But what the devil does that have to do with my question?”

  “About Jenny Latham?”

  “Yes! Damn you, Charmas! About her.”

  Speaking softly, Charmas said, “I asked about our time together, Michael, because you know I won’t answer.” For a moment he let anger surge, then controlled it. “She doesn’t come under—”

  “She does!”

  “And I repeat myself, Major,” Charmas warned. “She doesn’t.”

  Half-risen in his chair, Michael sat back slowly. “We’ll leave her out of the discussion for now. Tell me where you intend to join up with them.”

  “I was late meeting them last night,” he tersely explained. “And don’t ask. I told Grogan I had to go back to Segundo first. He thinks I went after the money. The others, I told you, got tired of waiting and lit out to this side of the river, so I never saw them. I don’t know why they keep splitting up, and Grogan was so damn drunk by the time I got to him there wasn’t much more to learn. But I have names now. And they are men I know except for Jonas Latham.” He paused and, strangely enough for him, seemed hesitant, but it passed quickly. “There’s Gage Pollister and a Mex called Prado. Prado I know by rep. He’s a mean bastard with a knife and never carries a gun—says they’re too slow and he hates them. He’s a real ladies’ man, too, but he has a face that would make you look good, Michael.”

  “Thanks, I think, but what of this Gage Pol­lister?”

  Once again Charmas hesitated and it puzzled Michael. “He thinks he’s fast with his gun. Talk around is he rode with Wes Hardin back in ‘seventy. He’s just a kid, impressed by the wrong things.

  “I never figured Grogan was a part of it. I never thought he would c
ome looking for me either. He was a tough bastard when we rode together, but I never figured him for a bush­whacker. The one thing that made sense was his going after a payroll. He’d guarded that route for almost two years and knew it well. But shooting someone in the back wasn’t his style when we served together. I thought last night was going to be the end of it. I was more than ready to face them all.” Holding his fist against his open palm, powerful legs braced wide, Charmas vowed, “But I won’t quit until I do.”

  “You can’t go in there!” a furious voice bellowed, and before either the major or Charmas could react the door burst open. The exasperated corporal was elbowed aside as Gran Salinas rushed into the room, the shock of seeing Char­mas stopping her for a moment.

  “Lord amercy,” she blurted out, “you went and got yourself caught! Ain’t gonna be worth a lick to Jenny now—”

  “Jenny?” Charmas cut in, coming to her side.

  “That bastard Jonas stole Robby last night. She went after him.”

  Charmas motioned Michael to silence. “Where?”

  “I don’t rightly know. Been over to see Belen Tome myself and he ain’t seen hide nor hair of her.” She blinked and realized he was wearing a gun. A look at the major, his confirming nod, and Charmas’s reassuring smile summoned up her own fast conclusion. “You’re army?”

  “Just helping,” Charmas answered, turning to Michael. “This changes—”

  “I know.”

  “If you’re goin’ after her, then I ain’t got to worry,” Gran interrupted. “I’ll give you whatever you need, but find her and that boy.”

  “I’ve my horse and my gun. It’s all I need.”

  “Funny,” she said, turning to leave, “that’s what Jenny said too.”

  “Christ! I never figured Jonas would take Robby.” There was no disguising the raw anguish in Charmas’s voice.

  “That boy alone with four killers, and his mother after them, are not the odds a man likes to think about,” Michael said with serious regard for the man he spoke to. “How much protection will Jonas be for his son? Do you know? Or are you wondering, as I am, if he will be any at all?”

  “I’m thinking about it, but it’s Jenny that’s got me worried. She tried to kill Jonas. Don’t look shocked. She admitted as much to me and I know Jen’s got a temper. That boy means everything to her. Where Ben Kress figures is another question I need answered. Jonas was the unknown factor for me. All I kept remembering was his smile. Mave was too … well, she noticed it. I thought I’d go crazy when I saw his boy and that smile nagged me.”

  “Jenny didn’t know when you started remembering it all?”

  “No,” he curtly answered, fighting back memories of Jenny. And into that pause, Michael’s question fell softly, like the slither of a snake intent upon its victim.

  “How do you think she’ll feel about you, Charmas, after you’ve dealt with her husband?” Michael’s gaze remained intent.

  “She never answered when I asked,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t think she wanted to believe I would do it.” Raw and aching, he added, “Jenny only knows a small part of what I am. But I need to leave.”

  “I’ll walk out with you,” Michael offered, wondering what reassurance he could give. It wasn’t much. “She’ll need to be a strong woman for a man like you. You’re very complex, my friend. But you’re pushing yourself. Be careful and come back, Charmas.”

  “Mave and Sean didn’t die for nothing. And I’ve a promise to keep to Jenny,” he said, checking his cinch strap and mounting. “I’ll be back,” Charmas promised.

  Michael grabbed the buckskin’s bridle, stopping him. “I believe you, but I can’t help think that Jenny doesn’t know what she’s facing. I can’t stop myself from wishing I had a way of protecting her. If Jonas hadn’t taken Robby from the fort—oh, what the hell’s the sense. What you do with them is up to you. Officially the army is satisfied with the recovery of the payroll money and Saul Lomas’s death. But Charmas,” he stated coldly, “I’ve never asked more of a man than what I ask of you, but I have no choice.”

  “There wasn’t much of a choice for me either, Michael.” And with those words lingering between them, Charmas rode from Bent’s Fort, driving the buckskin for all he could give, refusing to think of where Jenny was or what Jonas may have done to her.

  Exhausted, Jenny stopped on the ridge above her cabin and saw smoke curling from the chimney. Instinct had guided her here, for the rain had nearly washed out Jonas’s tracks.

  Watching for sign of movement below, it took her moments to identify the sound behind her as a gun being cocked.

  She twisted in the saddle, gripping the reins. Eyes, the gray of sage and as lifeless, met her own. The comer of the man’s mouth lifted and Jenny didn’t realize it was what passed for a smile. He made her shiver, but she couldn’t take her eyes away from him even when he motioned with his rifle for her to ride down the trail. Then he pushed the ragged army hat back, revealing his face.

  With an inner start, Jenny saw the scar running down his left cheek across his throat. Someone had tried to kill him, but those lifeless eyes convinced her he was the one who had killed. He was wiry thin, a shock of dirty-blond-shaded hair hung down to his shoulders, and he had the pasty-white skin of a man too long from the sun. Motioning with the rifle, he silently urged her down the path.

  Anxious to escape, she spurred her mare down the rocky trail calling out for Jonas. As she swiftly dismounted, she saw yet another man emerge from the stable.

  Where her companion was careless in appearance, this man was immaculate. From the gleaming shine of his black calf-high boots, to his clinging black pants and narrow-waisted, silver-studded belt that held a black double-breasted shirt taut, he held her mesmerized. He too held a rifle, its barrel slanted down, carrying it like a trusted friend. She swallowed. He was taller than Jonas, leaner in build but dark. His eyes were yellow. A gleaming, feral yellow: this was one of the men who had traded Charmas’s buckskin to Mac Peters. An icy chill crept up her spine.

  And then she heard Jonas.

  “This is Jenny, Gage,” he slurred from behind her.

  She turned fast, steadying herself by grabbing on to the saddle. She had forgotten how tall he was. Had forgotten the mocking sound of his voice.

  “I want my son.” She searched behind him, hoping that Robby was out in the open.

  “He’s mine, Jenny. Only mine.”

  Gage flicked his fingers against the sweat-stained hide of her mare. “She must’ve ridden hard. Couldn’t have been more’n an hour behind you.”

  Jenny glanced at him. The stare he returned was impersonal with every feature carefully schooled. He impressed her again with being all darkness without a hint of light. Yet, curiously, she couldn’t look away from him until she heard Jonas call out for Robby to come and meet his friends. Jenny cringed when she saw Robby reluctantly come out of the barn.

  When he yelled at Robby again, she lunged for him, grabbing his arm. “Stop frightening him! Didn’t you do enough stealing him from me!” She knew she was no match for his brute strength, but she fought to keep him from touching Robby. He shook her loose like an unwanted annoyance and Robby cried out, scampering between them to run to her. Jenny hugged and soothed him, watching Jonas weave unsteadily.

  “He’s mine,” he repeated. “I’ve got ’im.”

  “I’ll see you in hell first,” she warned, her hands covering Robby’s ears. Glaring at Jonas with all the hate and fury she could summon, she never saw his move to draw his gun.

  “You tried killing me once, Jenny. I figure I owe you.” He smiled, mockery in his eyes, as he raised the gun. “Let him go. Now!”

  “Why? Why now, Jonas? You never wanted him before. You ran out on us every chance you could, so keep running! I don’t want you and Robby doesn’t need you.”

  With the gun he motioned to Robby. “Get over here.”

  Jenny didn’t move and i
nto the silence fell the ominous click of the hammer being pulled back. All she could do was tighten her arms protectively around her son.

  Robby was afraid, but he didn’t believe his pa would really shoot his mother. The way she hung on so tight, she sure didn’t doubt it. “M-mom,” he begged, “let me go.”

  “No! I—”

  “Let him go,” Jonas warned. “I won’t hurt him.”

  She looked into his eyes and knew he wouldn’t hurt Robby, only her. Slowly, she released her son. She was defeated. Neither of the other two men had moved or uttered a sound.

  Jonas leaned his head toward Robby’s. Two caps of matching sun-streaked hair melded in her vision. She heard Jonas’s soft murmurs, watched as Robby shook his head; and then, with a smile from Jonas, he nodded. Terror clutched her. What was he telling Robby? Her son’s back was toward her and Jonas dropped to his knees. But it was the sight of the gun, light glinting off its blue metal sheen, held in Jonas’s hand resting against Robby’s back, that broke through whatever barrier she had created.

  Jonas glanced up. “Robby ain’t afraid and I figure as long as you’re here, you’ll stay.”

  “Is that a choice?” she asked, her voice hard.

  “You,” he said very softly, coming to his feet, “belong to me, Jenny. You ain’t got a choice.”

  “Belong to you? Only when it suits you to remember,” she spat, forgetting her son was listening.

  “Yeah. Like now, Jenny. I recall right well, how much I missed my wife.”

  Her cheeks burned under the lazy regard of his eyes, so darkly ambered like Robby’s. Fighting down an overpowering loathing, she willed herself not to move. She refused to flinch when his gaze lingered upon her mouth, knowing he saw the full swollen softness from Charmas’s kiss. He knew. Raw fury lit his eyes. There was a warning growl from deep in his throat before he shoved Robby aside.