To Cole’s relief, Willy nodded with the easy acceptance of a trusting child. But just then Cole’s sleeve was grabbed and tugged. He pivoted around, facing Joey again, whose face contorted as he struggled with gathering tears. “Yer leavin’ us, ain’t you? Why don’t you just say it? We ain’t goin’ ta be no family. So don’t tell Willy and Lydia that it’s so.”
Willy and Lydia immediately burst into tears. Cole looked helplessly from one to the other of them. The overwhelming urge to hit something hard, like the wagon, nearly sent him stalking off. Instead, he put his hands to his waist and stood his ground. Deliberately, he towered over Joey, establishing his word as law. “I didn’t say that, now did I? And we are a family … for now. I suppose. Unless you’ve got a better plan, boy.”
The moments silently ticked by. Then Joey said, “I don’t reckon I do.”
Cole exhaled a relieved breath, realizing that he’d half expected this kid to come up with a workable plan. “Well, then, that’s settled. Is there anything else we need to get out in the open?”
The kids quit their sniffing, enough to exchange questioning glances among themselves and say, together, “Nope.”
“All right then, let’s load up.” Cole again made a swiping motion with his hand, indicating for Joey to join Willy on the wagon’s bed.
This time, Joey climbed somberly onto the wagon to sit beside his brother and stare back at Cole. A sudden realization stung Cole—Joey was someone he didn’t want to disappoint. Never before had Cole cared a damn for what any man thought of him. But this kid? He made a man feel he had something to live up to in his eyes. Dammit, he didn’t need this. To prove it, Cole stalked to the hitching rail and untied the team, finally hauling himself up beside Lydia on the narrow seat. He glanced down at her. She was fiddling with the hem of her dress.
But the tiny girl had apparently been doing some thinking of her own. “Are you goin’ to be our new papa?”
Cole stopped in the act of backing the team into the muddy street’s bustling traffic. Looking down at his niece, he saw her rosebud mouth pucker. She was now twisting a dark curl around her chubby finger. With huge brown eyes, she considered him, a doubtful expression puffing out her rounded cheeks. Cole flicked the tip of her button nose with his finger and grinned. “Yeah, Lydia, I suppose I am. For now, anyway.”
When she didn’t say anything further, but bent to pick at a burr in her stocking, Cole let out a relieved breath and began his maneuvering of the team. Just as he set them on their course for Walnut Creek, a train’s whistle overrode the other street noises and had Cole turning toward the sound and puckering his mouth in disgust. Another trainload of land grabbers. All he wanted to do was get his brother-in-law’s affairs settled and get out of town before the seams burst in this overrun frontier settlement.
Since the wagon path out to the Walnut Creek camp—a settlement the sheriff’d said had literally sprung up under a dense grove of trees at the creek’s bottom—paralleled the train tracks, Cole couldn’t help but see the big engine come to a stop and begin to disgorge swarms of people from its long string of cars. He guided the mules around the sea of disembarking people and shook his head at all the noise and bustle. A twinge of some emotion, one that tugged at him, assailed Cole. Not for me. Not any of these trappings of civilization. Just then, he felt a tug on his shirt.
“Papa Cole?”
Sparing Lydia only a glance as he kept an eye out for the milling newcomers, he smiled at her calling him “Papa Cole” and figured it was easier for her to say than “Uncle Cole.” “What, baby?”
“Where’s our new mama?”
Chapter Two
Startled by the child’s question, Cole gaped at her, forgetting for a moment the disembarking folks. A split second later, yelling and whooping directly in front of his wagon spooked the team into half-rearing and jerked Cole’s attention back to the street.
“Watch out!”
“Whoa, there! Whoa! Mind your team, mister!”
Cursing, Cole sawed back on the reins, finally bringing the agitated mules under control. Immediately he jumped up and called out to Joey, “Take the reins, son. Willy, keep a hand on your sister.” Waiting only to see that the boys jumped to do his bidding, Cole dismounted as nimbly as if he’d been on his gelding. Hurrying around to the front of the wagon, he found himself confronted with a knot of gawking onlookers. Looking from one upset face to the next, he asked, “Was anybody hurt?”
“Not as much as they could’ve been, young feller,” an old codger barked out, pointing to a young woman off to Cole’s right. “You danged near ran down this here little lady. You’re lucky all your team trampled was her belongings.”
Accepting the deserved chastisement, Cole looked in the direction the bewhiskered old man pointed. And found he couldn’t look away. He forgot the old man, along with the rest of the bystanders, because … there she stood at the front of the crowd. An arresting woman … tall, slim, black-haired, dressed all in green from her hat to the hem of her mud-splattered skirt. But it was her eyes that captured his attention, that took his breath away. He’d never seen eyes the green of hers, eyes that gleamed all the more for being set in such a pale face.
Cole instantly realized that he’d put that look on her face and so roused himself to inquire, “You all right, miss?”
She blinked, as if startled by the sound of his voice. Then, staring at him for a moment too long, she finally said, “I am. I’m fine. I just need my knapsack.” She pointed to the trampled earth under his team’s hooves. “It’s under there.”
Cole nodded at her, hypnotized by her voice. Low yet melodic, it played over his skin like a soft spring breeze. Frowning now at his school-boy thoughts, he said brusquely, “Let me get it for you.”
Turning, taking hold of the nearest mule’s bridle and, with Joey’s help, urging it back until the woman’s ruined bag came into view, Cole bent over and hauled it out of further harm’s way. He straightened up and offered it to her. A look of dismay settled on her features as she reached for it and hugged it to her bosom. Her actions prompted Cole to speak. “I’m right sorry this happened. I can pay you for the damage done if you—”
“No,” she interrupted, shaking her head, which caused the feather on her hat to dance nervously. Then, glancing about, as if only now aware of the crowd and how they pressed in around her, she sent Cole a wide-eyed—and fearful—look. “No,” she repeated. “Thank you, but it’s okay. I’ve got my property, so I’ll just be on my way.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Cole replied, tipping his Stetson’s brim to her, but with his mind busily assessing her reaction and wondering at it. “You sure you’re okay, that’s there nothing I can do for you?”
Sudden tears sprang to her eyes. “I’m fine. And there’s nothing anybody can do for me. I mean, I don’t need anyone’s help. I’m fine.”
More than curious now, Cole nodded at her. “If you say so. You know best, miss.”
Her chin came up, revealing a slight quiver there. “Yes. I do, don’t I? I do know best. Thank you.” With that, she turned and shouldered her way into the crowd, which parted for her and then closed around her, blocking her retreat from Cole’s sight.
Once she was gone, and the crowd began dispersing, he shook his head and turned back to the wagon and the kids. She was acting mighty strange, he thought as he hauled himself up onto the buckboard seat and settled in next to Lydia. Turning to the little girl, Cole asked her, “What’d you think about all that, Miss Lydia?”
The ringlet-crowned child shrugged her shoulders as she turned her face up to him and said, “Her was more scared than me.”
Cole found himself nodding and agreeing. “Yeah, she was.” Then, to himself, he added, But scared of what? Or who?
* * *
Only recently had Kate become afraid of approaching darkness. Because of the horrific events back in New York, she now associated the long shadows of day’s end with that of Mr. Talmidge’s appearance at the bedside, his fac
e bloated with a mixture of hatred and desire for her. Even now, in this wide-open faraway place, the early evening shadows creeping up on her took her back to that bad place.
No! Gritting her teeth, she fought back the wrenching sobs that threatened to overtake her. Instead, she forced herself to concentrate on the practical, on her present predicament. And a mighty big one it was.
Exhausted, her spirits low, she dropped her muddy, torn knapsack to the ground as she sank down on an abandoned wooden box under a blackjack oak tree. She called the tiny square seat under her the only welcoming thing she’d found all this long afternoon, since she’d stepped off the train only to be almost trampled to death. That memory sent a shiver frittering along her nerve endings. But it wasn’t the memory of the rearing mules that had her shaking again. No, it was the dark eyes of the big, square-jawed man whose team she’d walked in front of.
Again she saw him looking her up and down … and giving her that considering stare, one that said she couldn’t hide her secrets from him, a look that had made her turn tail and run from him.
Since then, things had only gotten worse for her. And the way she saw it, it was all her fault. Why, she wanted to know, hadn’t she at least suspected there might not be even one empty bed in a frontier town thronged with would-be settlers like herself? Couldn’t she have, on the days-long train ride it’d taken to get out here, at least guessed what it would be like? Not that knowing would have stopped her or changed her plans. No, she’d had no choice but to continue her journey, what with the ticket bought and her money supply dwindling. But even so, she had no right to be so surprised and upset to find that even that ornery Mr. Simms was right. There must be over ten thousand people here, like he’d said, waiting to make the run.
Kate shook her head. Talk about town had it that every border into Oklahoma country was just as crowded as Arkansas City. And Mrs. Jacobs had been right, too. Meaning, what chance did she, a lone woman afoot, have of beating mounted riders to a suitable claim? Why, she hadn’t given much credence on the train to the men’s bragging on whose horse was the fleetest and on how they planned to get first to the choicest land. She’d listened with only half an ear, as tangled up in her own fears and troubles as she’d been for most of the way here. But now she understood, and all too painfully well, why the run was referred to jokingly as “Harrison’s Hoss Race,” after the new president.
It was all true. The land run, the race for her future, only days away, was already lost to her. Why? Because she probably wouldn’t even survive until then. Right now, she couldn’t even see to her most basic needs. Such as money. She had none left, after paying for a meager supper at a cot hotel’s dining room. A place to sleep? A humorless chuckle escaped her. She was sitting on it. And work? There was none to be had anywhere. Nothing to keep her body and soul together until the blasted run. Which was a real run. An actual race, with the best land going to those with the fastest horses.
Now where was she going to get a horse? It’d taken her all day just to find this wood box to sit on. And she’d thought it would all be so easy. Just get here, was all she’d been able to think. Just get here and you’ll be fine, she’d promised herself. Well, here she was … and she wasn’t fine. If she didn’t come up with another plan, and soon, she and her baby were as good as dead. A plan, she firmly told herself, that wasn’t as silly as the picture she’d had in her head of simply stepping up to the land-office window and picking out her parcel of land from a map.
A wave of overwhelming futility crashed over Kate with a suddenness that swamped her remaining courage. And robbed her of hope. She buried her face in her arms and began to cry, sobbing quietly with all the desperation in her soul. She didn’t care about all the folks walking by, either. Nothing mattered—
“Lady, can I help you in any way?”
Kate jumped, quickly wiping at her eyes and cheeks as she looked up. She sucked in air. It’s him. The man whose mules had nearly trampled her. And here he stood now, a hand outstretched to her, as if he meant to touch her. She shied away from the contact and managed to stare up into his face. “I don’t need any help.”
He pulled his hand back and stood up straighter, staring down at her. “That may be. But I keep hearing different. Talk around town and out at Walnut Creek camp says you’re all alone. Got no place to sleep. Been looking for work you can’t find.”
Kate’s heart thumped erratically. Folks are talking about me? Must be. And apparently he, for one, was listening. Again she had the sense that he knew her whole life, that he could see into her soul. Somehow she knew she had to put him off the scent right here and now. “Talk’s cheap, mister. But true or not, like I said … I don’t need any help from you.”
His expression clouded. “I see. Well, I’m sorry to have bothered you. But I … well, I was passing by and heard you just now.”
Mortified that he’d find her in this state, Kate struggled for control, which made her voice sound high and tinny, even to her own ears. “Well, you’re right about that. It was me … as you can plainly see.”
He didn’t say anything. But he didn’t have to. Because somehow his standing there in front of her, so tall and in control, only made her feel more guilty for having been so unprepared to take care of herself. Just as that realization came to her, he spoke again. “Is it true, the talk? About your not having a safe place to sleep?”
Kate tensed—the last thing she needed was some stranger, a man, concerning himself with where she’d sleep. “No, it isn’t,” she assured him. “And I do have some place to be. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” With that, she came to her feet and grabbed up her knapsack, holding it close to her chest. Wide-eyed and slowly backing away from him, she stared at him. He suddenly loomed larger, seemed to float toward her. Kate swallowed, tasting her fear … and the danger.
Before a few months ago she wouldn’t have seen this trap, at least not as vividly as she did now. “Leave me alone,” she warned him, feeling herself slip toward panic. “I’ll scream. I swear I will.”
“Whoa. Hold on there, lady,” the man protested, holding up a cautioning hand. “There’s no need to scream. I don’t mean you any harm. I was just asking, that’s all.”
Kate stopped where she was—pressed against the tree trunk at her back—and stood her ground. “Well, now you know. I have a place to sleep. Not that it’s any of your concern.”
“You’re right. Like I said, I’m sorry I bothered you. I just thought that—Well, never mind.” The man then took his leave of her and tipped his hat as he turned on his boot heel and stalked away.
Slumping with relief, Kate watched his retreat, telling herself she wanted to make sure he didn’t double back on her. After a moment, though, she realized she was noting his broad shoulders and his long-legged stride that was rapidly putting a respectable distance between them. But it wasn’t until he stepped up onto the boardwalk that fronted Summit Street’s wooden buildings, and rounded the corner, out of her sight, that Kate exhaled the breath she’d been holding. That was a close call, she told herself, now heading back to the wooden box she’d been sitting on until a moment ago.
But she’d no more than squatted back down on her perch before her conscience went to work on her, accusing her of sending away the only helping hand that’d been held out to her since she stepped off the train. But his offer was one she couldn’t accept, she argued right back. For one thing, he was a man and a stranger to her. For another, from what he’d said, she was already the subject of gossip about town. What then would folks think if she suddenly took up with him? Why, they’d think the worst. And she’d deserve it.
Because there was just no telling what was involved in his offer to help her. What might he want from her? Maybe nothing. Maybe he truly was only a kind man thinking to help a woman in need. There was a time in her young life when she would have believed that. But not anymore. Harsh experience had taught her to be wary. Suspicious. Not so trusting. And even now, those same emotions had Kate sitting up
taller, had her feeling stronger. But just as suddenly, she slumped, knowing the reasons she’d just given herself weren’t the only ones for sending the man away.
She’d also pushed him away because … he was him. Why, he’d fairly taken her breath away earlier today when he’d jumped off that wagon and come to stand in front of her. He was quite easily the handsomest man she’d ever seen. So tall, dark, and muscled. And such feelings, so startling and unsettling to her after what she’d been subjected to by Mr. Talmidge, scared her. It was that simple. Hadn’t she been shaking like a leaf after their set-to this afternoon? And no, it hadn’t all been from fright, either. The truth was, the man’s nearness shook her up. And that was enough of a reason to send him away. She wasn’t studying any man now. She had her baby to think of.
Dismissing the man from her thoughts, Kate recalled Mrs. Jacobs and her brood of hungry kids. If only she could find the kind woman and her mister. She’d swallow her pride and take them up on their offer of shelter and food. But where in all this people-clogged madness could they be? Out at that Walnut Creek camp she’d been hearing about all day?
She pivoted on her wooden box, away from the town’s center, until she could see the trees that sheltered the camp. They were most likely out there. But did she dare try to find them, now that it was getting dark? From what she’d seen today, the creek was among a thick stand of trees. Anything could happen to a woman alone out there. And probably would.
With that fear holding her firmly in place, Kate’s slump deepened, had her resting an elbow atop a skirt-covered knee and rubbing tiredly at her forehead. What was wrong with her? Was it the growing baby that kept her tired, hungry, and sick? And full of tears? Then, as if just the thought of crying could bring on a jag, Kate felt her chin tremble and her eyes fill. Blinking rapidly, sniffing, she swiped at them. Why, now I’m just being plain silly. There’s not a thing—
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