She moved nearer to him on the wagon’s seat. “I’m scared, Brodie…for all of us.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her even closer. “I am too, honey. I am too.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
At church the following Sunday, Reverend Holmes announced a mandatory town meeting to be held that evening at seven in the parish center. A few in the congregation questioned the gathering.
“I can only say it is a very important request by the Willow Creek Police Department, and extremely essential everyone attends,” Reverend Holmes replied.
Sitting beside her mother in the pew, Cassia felt Amanda’s hand close around her wrist. “God help us through all of this,” she whispered.
All she managed was a nod, her own fears playing havoc with her thoughts. When she returned from dinner at Betsy and Michael’s home on Thursday evening, she sat with her parents, and after explaining about Becket Attwater, her mother immediately went around and secured the window locks, shutting those already opened, and checking the front and back doors. True to his word, Michael phoned their house on Friday, explaining the horrendous situation further and incorporating her father’s help.
Sunday dinner was hard to swallow. Brodie joined them, and even though everyone kept the conversation light and centered on commonplace topics, the atmosphere was thick with worry and uncertainty. Before leaving for the parish center, she and Brodie walked hand in hand around the garden. Memories of him proposing gave her heart a smile, despite the insanity looming other places in the world.
“It’s hard to believe, looking at my mother’s beautiful blooms, the world can hold such depravity and fear,” she pondered aloud. “The women Attwater murdered were probably daughters or mothers or someone’s love. They woke in the morning, facing the day like every other, not realizing it would be their last. All this simply because a sick, fiendish soul, whose life may have been tormented, felt the urge to end theirs.” Tears rose to choke her. “And that same horror could happen here to anyone of us…to me.”
In one fluid motion, he pulled her to him. She could feel the rapid beating of his heart against hers and smell the clean citrus and musk scent of his flesh.
“You have nothing to fear, my love,” he whispered against her temple, his strong yet gentle arms a momentary safety net surrounding her. “I will make sure no harm comes to you. And after Mike and his men inform the townspeople of this dangerous culprit, he will not stand a chance in hell at hurting anyone in Eagle’s Landing or any place else.”
She wanted to believe his words, wanted to feel safe again, but deep inside she feared the worst. And it loomed heavy upon her shoulders like a weighted tool, sinking deep, consuming her until it took root in her very soul. “This has made me wonder if we’re ever really safe. Attwater isn’t the only derelict loose in this world.”
“Well, right now he’s the one we need to catch.”
She sighed heavily. “One derelict at a time, I suppose.”
At the town’s meeting, Sheriff Michael McCrea and two of his men informed the folks of Becket Attwater, explaining in detail how dangerous a man he was. The women gasped, the men talked over one another. And then the questions began. The law officers made a more than accurate attempt to be informative and honest about the situation. And for those questions that couldn’t be answered at this time, strong support and speculation were added.
“Now, I need to call upon several men to keep watch here in Eagle’s Landing. Only those certain they can deal with the situation, prevail with justice, and move forward to primarily keep the peace, will be deputized,” Michael announced.
It was no surprise to her when the other two McCrea men, Mickey and Patrick, and several of the town’s Apaches stepped up. All of them knew how to read the land, were excellent trackers, and the Apaches were formidable fighters. Her brother Gabriel and his son Ethan were the first of the tribe to make their way to the front of the meeting room. Even though Rising Sun and Falling Star weren’t her biological aunt and uncle, related to her mother’s first husband, Proud Eagle, she had grown up calling them as such. They lived next door, and Rising Sun was kind, loving, and taught her many ways to appreciate and respect the earth and nature, as well as cook traditional meals. Their son, Rising Star and his son, Kuruk—or Bear, as he was called, came forward as well. And though Little Elk and his wife, Owl Woman was long deceased, their memories lived on. Their son, Night Wolf and his son, Micah, also rose to the call. Two other townsmen made their way to be deputized, but the person who responded next shocked her the most…John Tyler Boyd. When he walked up to join the rest of the men, her heart sank.
Leaning toward Brodie, she whispered, “Hasn’t his family met with enough tragedy already, but for Trudy to possibly lose her boy as well.”
“He’s no longer a boy, but a young man doing his duty to keep his town safe, and no doubt thinking for his sister’s sakes,” Brodie whispered in return.
“What if it were Patrick Junior or one of Betsy’s boys?” she said. “You wouldn’t want any of them going on this manhunt.”
Brodie sighed. “That’s very true, but my nephews still have a father, so they don’t need to be the man of the house. That’s not the case for John Tyler. In a way, I’m kind of proud of him.”
On second thought, so was she. “I just pray no harm comes to him.”
Gabriel addressed the gathering now, standing tall and handsome in his buckskin pants and white shirt. She could almost guess how relieved he must be to have his wife, Riley and daughter, Anita away in England until the fall. “Any man,” he began, “who would like to learn the Apache tracking method and hand-to-hand combat skills is welcome to meet with me or any of the other tribesmen for lessons. We will be at the wickiups located at the edge of the creek after this meeting ends. We’ll be happy to go over some things then, as well as set up a schedule for further lessons.” He motioned to Mickey McCrea and Patrick. “And you all know the investigator abilities of these two men, so they will also be on hand to share their skills.”
After Gabriel spoke, many more townsmen agreed to join the manhunt and decided to also come forth to be deputized.
“I’m pleased at the turnout and the man power we’ve legalized tonight,” Michael said. “Now, I have one more speaker wishing to be heard.” He smiled at Amanda, sitting in the front row. The two of them, to this day, held a special bond. “The floor’s all yours, Mrs. Holmes.”
Cassia smiled to herself, knowing very well why her mother asked to speak…not to the crowd, but to the women.
With squared shoulders and strong determination, Amanda Holmes made it to the front of the room. “Ladies of Eagle’s Landing. I am calling upon you to be a part of protecting yourselves, as well as the other women in this town.” Pausing, she looked around the room. “You all know my past, the years I spent as an Apache wife. To cope with such a time, I learned the Apache ways of survival just as well as the men in the tribe.” When she smiled, a twinkle of humor shone bright within her sapphire blue eyes. “Given, I am now a woman in my seventies, but that number is only the amount of years I’ve lived thus far upon this earth. It is, in no way, a number that has hampered me in carrying out my daily duties or keeping up with the grand scheme of things. I still have many good years ahead, and I tend to live them to the fullest. I also don’t intend for Becket Attwater to end those years prematurely. And I am certain neither do you. So, I propose hand-to-hand combat lessons for the women.” Amanda quickly glanced in Cassia’s direction and arched a questioning brow. Knowing what her mother was up to, Cassia nodded. “My daughter, whom I’ve taught the Apache fight throughout the years, will help me to instruct any of you interested in acquiring the same skill. We will gather back here at the parish hall tomorrow evening for the first lesson. But remember, don’t travel here alone. There is strength and safety in numbers.” Then finally she added, “Please take a moment to think about my proposal, as training will not be easy. And should you decide in favo
r of my instructions, please take another moment to sign your names on the register sheet I’ve supplied, located on the foyer table.”
Brodie chuckled lightly. “Now I know why you were such a scrappy little girl.”
She smiled. “I did beat Tucker a few times when he got out of hand, didn’t I?”
“And so, where were you when he punched me in the jaw?”
She sighed heavily. “All kidding aside, Brodie, I still fear this man—Attwater.”
He grew serious. “And you should, my love; we all should. But Attwater’s not walking into a town where the folks are unprotected or caught off guard. And I think that makes a huge difference in our favor.”
She hoped he was right.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Tension in Eagle’s Landing grew three weeks into the authorities’ search for Becket Attwater. Brodie felt it like a crawling insect, creeping about and settling deep inside his own thoughts. A few times he attended the men’s combat class, amazed at how stealthy and quick the Apache way of fighting actually was. Keeping up was morally difficult, as to accomplish the effect properly, hurting an opponent was necessary. The oath he swore to do no harm rang loud and clear within his moral fiber. Would he…could he maim or kill another human being if he had to? His answer came swift enough when he pictured Cassia at the mercy of this monster.
Yes, I could kill him, without blinking.
And so he listened and learned and carried his hunting rifle. It would only be the second time he would use it, if need be. The first time was when he was fourteen. He thought he’d be this great hunter, able to feed his family on the game he caught. He had excellent aim, at practice he always struck his target, lined-up cans on a fallen log. But his heart broke after bagging a rabbit. Seeing the tiny rodent’s lifeless body, due to the fatal shot he fired, left him with much grief. After burying the rabbit in a makeshift grave and asking the good Lord’s forgiveness for its demise, he put the rifle away. It remained in the corner of the barn until last week, when he dug it out of storage, cleaned and loaded it. Now it had a permanent place beside him in the wagon. Cassia eyed it reluctantly a few times in the beginning, but now, after several weeks into the manhunt for Attwater, he almost believed she took the rifle’s presence as a welcomed security.
He was also impressed by the women’s combat progress. While watching Cassia bend, kick, and dance her battle strategy, he became immensely absorbed…and physically excited. Picturing her free of any clothing while in action led him to take a few nightly walks to cool off before driving her and Amanda home. He was amazed at the turnout. There had to be at least thirty women in the class. Of those in attendance he knew about half, Nora Dodd, Maggie Granger, as well as Muriel Dodd—his childhood school teacher. Watching her strike a fighting pose was indeed strange. This was the woman who helped him master his sums, know the difference between a verb and a noun. Now, she was learning how to battle a criminal and fight for her life. God forbid that time should arise.
Ruth Ann Boyd and her mother, Trudy were present, but not Alma Lee. He hadn’t seen her since the day he was called in on her false pregnancy case. Trudy had asked him to stay away. It saddened him to know he failed a patient. If it weren’t for Cassia gaining their trust and making progress with Alma Lee’s condition, she could have been lost to reality forever.
As he glanced around the room, he recognized Rowena Cooper and her daughter, Clara Morris, the herbal growers. The two women supplied him with many homemade tinctures and balms, which aided the patients he called upon. There was Olivia Beachum and Flora Washburn, two unlikely candidates, yet they were bouncing around, learning to defend themselves. Katie McCrea, his sister, Shailyn’s mother-in-law, and Katie’s daughter, Trina, were also present. The McCrea family came over from Ireland with his family—Mickey, Katie, and their four children, Michael, Patrick, Trina, and Mary.
Michael became his best friend, and he was a good and honest man. Now, he was an honest and caring lawman, doing his best to keep folks safe from harm. No one will ever forget the role Mike played in alerting the townsmen to the kidnapping of Amanda Holmes by Denton Hall, a former Reservation Agent. Mike’s quick wit aided in Amanda’s rescue, and forever they share a special bond. No wonder, as his future mother-in-law had an exciting past. Her time living with the Apache was the stuff great folklore is made from. In truth, the town’s existence was basically due to her strength and foresight to bridge the gap between races.
He smiled to himself when he spotted his mother, Sadie O’Clarity, his sister, Shailyn and her nine-year-old twin daughters, Megan and Marta. All of them were taken fully out of their elements, as they jumped around, shouted out, and twisted their bodies to unusual positions. Their differences didn’t matter here tonight, whether slim or fat, young or old. All of them were determined to keep Attwater from claiming his next victim. He prayed quietly their efforts paid off.
After making sure Patrick McCrea had Sadie, Shailyn, Katie McCrea, and his nieces packed comfortably in his wagon, Brodie gathered up his riders. He remained silent on the ride to the Holmes’s residence, as he listened to Amanda and Cassia planning their next lesson. Wisely Amanda scrutinized her class, picking out which of the women needed to work on shifting from side to side, while some others needed to become flexible with their kicks and more forceful with their punches. As he learned more of the strategy, he admired the cleverness and dedication to getting it right. And to think, his own beautiful wife-to-be, was a little power house, taught to stick up for herself in the face of danger. She was feminine, yet hearty—dainty, yet strong. And the combination excited his male senses beyond what he expected.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight.” Cassia placed a hand upon his arm. She sat between him and her mother on the wagon’s seat, closer than usual, and their thighs touched.
Her proximity and show of affection sent shock waves of desire through his body.
“He’s probably thinking, what sort of family are we, that he’s chosen to marry into,” Amanda teased.
He was thankful for the elder woman’s humorous remark, as it helped him to take the focus off Cassia’s very near presence.
Cassia giggled—the lilting, golden sound of her mirth was like the halo of sunlight pigmenting her hair—and at this point a most needed and joyful noise. “I can’t blame him.”
He chuckled now, some of the tension lifting from his shoulders. “After tonight, I’ve decided, it would be extremely unwise for me to ever get you really mad.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Patrick Junior was now gainfully employed as Cassia’s traveling assistant. With Becket Attwater still at large, Brodie insisted on her having another traveling companion, for those times he was not available. Today, the two of them rode their bicycles to Nora’s house.
“When would you like me to return for you?” P.J. inquired. Although he was only eleven, he was tall for his age and solidly built. Thus the reason Brodie thought he’d be the perfect bodyguard, or at least intimidate danger to keep it at bay.
She stifled a smile at his professional manner. “How about in three hours?”
“Will do.” He left her safely at Nora’s front porch.
Once inside, Cassia marveled at the beautiful table Nora spread for their afternoon gathering. How she missed being with her dear friend. As children they were inseparable.
“It’s nice having you over for tea.” Nora filled another cup for each of them. “With your work schedule and now the fighting lessons, I don’t know how you manage to have time to spend with Brodie.”
“I think if we didn’t work together, there wouldn’t be a whole lot.” She accepted the piece of lemon cake Nora handed her.
“Well, that’s why I haven’t invited you over sooner,” Nora went on. “I didn’t want to put any further pressure on an already packed agenda.”
She sighed, sitting back in her chair. “But this is exactly what I need. Just some time to be me with a dear friend over tea and lemon cake and ju
st relaxing.”
Nora arched a brow. “Would talking about wedding plans be an intrusion on this relaxed time you’re having?”
She giggled. “No, I’d welcome the chance.”
Nora smiled. “Good, because Mama and I have finished my matron of honor’s gown, and I’m anxious to show it to you while the baby’s still napping.”
When Nora brought out the gown, Cassia gasped. Maggie and Nora’s creation was amazing, as every stitch was perfect. And the light blue satin and lace combination truly complemented her gown, which would make the two of them a beautiful sight to behold when they walked down the aisle.
“I couldn’t be more pleased,” she said, adding praises and compliments to their handiwork.
“Oh, I am so relieved the gown meets with your approval,” Nora confessed. “And now that I’ve lost my pregnancy weight, I am actually anxious to put it on and strut about in it.”
“Truthfully, I’m getting excited myself, and I can’t wait until this manhunt for Becket Attwater ends so I can once again travel to the Beachum house when I want and without a companion for my fittings.”
Nora shivered at hearing Attwater’s name. “Now, no further talk on that matter. Only happy talk today, and I’ve a curious thought to ask.”
She giggled. “Why am I not surprised? You’ve always had curious thoughts.”
Nora giggled too. “And they always landed me over Mama’s knee for a paddling.”
She laughed harder now, the pure joy of having fun with her dearest friend a luxury she missed. “Well, don’t worry. I won’t repeat history.”
Nora wiped tears of joy from her eyes with a napkin. “And I thank you greatly for that. Sometimes I think that old wooden spoon was used more to redden my backside than it ever was in Mama’s kitchen.”
“So, what is your curious thought, as I’m curious as well,” she said, drying her own eyes.
“I was just wondering,” Nora said, taking a deep breath to calm her giddiness, “where do you and Brodie plan to live after you’re married?”
The Last Bloom Page 21