Montana Dawn

by Caroline Fyffe

  She raised her head, surprised. A small hiccup escaped as she looked into his eyes. Then, with trembling hands, she wiped the tears away with the hankie she had twisted in her palm. The look written on her face nearly broke his heart.

  “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, looking for the answer in her eyes. When she didn’t respond but new tears spilled silently out, he gently scooted her over on the bed, making room for him to lie next to her. He gathered her into his arms. Up and down he rubbed her back, while her tears burned his chest.

  Her sobs didn’t slow but actually grew stronger the more he held and comforted her. “Shh, shh, it’s all right,” Luke whispered, not wanting to wake Dawn. Faith felt so right in his arms, like she’d been made just for him. She hiccuped again, then held her breath. To his relief, he realized that her tears were finally slowing.

  Scooting back, he stared into her face. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then tell me why you’re upset.”

  “I…I’m just tired, the strain—”

  “Don’t do it, Faith,” Luke interrupted. “Don’t tell me another fabrication.”

  Burying her face in the crook of his neck she shook her head.

  “What’s this, you’re not going to talk at all?” “That’s right,” she whispered back.

  Faith felt his deep chuckle before she heard it. She was too intent, marveling at how his strong bare chest, sprinkled with coarse black hair, felt beneath her fingertips. Uncontrollably her fingers skittered here and there, creating gooseflesh across his body. Grasping her hands, Luke held them tight against his chest, and Faith could feel the thundering of his heart.

  No more words were spoken. His face, tender with emotion, lowered to hers. The kiss was sweet, short, the melding of souls. Oh, why couldn’t Ward leave her be? Take her farm and be gone?

  Slowly Luke pulled away from her. “Why were you crying?” he asked again, softly in her ear.

  Didn’t he know that she’d tell him if she could, if it wouldn’t endanger Dawn and Colton or even him or Charity? Didn’t he? No. He didn’t. He couldn’t. Because she hadn’t told him.

  “Tell me,” he asked again, kissing her eyes, forehead, mouth.

  “I can’t,” she choked out.

  He lifted up on one arm. His eyes glittered with emotion. “No. You can but you choose not to.”

  “It’s just that I want to make my own way, to prove to myself…” She looked away and trailed off, and Luke put his finger to her mouth, stopping what she was going to say next.

  “Don’t say another thing.” He rose from the bed and walked to the door. With his hand on the knob he paused. “I was hoping you’d trust me enough to tell me the truth.”

  There was a different look in his eyes now, one of acceptance, regret. Faith longed to run to him, to kiss him and tell him everything, all the while begging for his forgiveness. But she couldn’t. Ward was relentless. He would hurt someone here just for the fun of it. Then he would take her back to where she’d come from and turn her in. His father and the circuit judge were relatives. Ward’s father had boasted a time or two of the people they’d cheated. If the judge believed he could benefit monetarily, she was sure he’d go along with his nephew. She had absolutely no doubt that she’d hang, and Dawn and Colton would be lost to her and her protection.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  ANY evidence who did it?” Mrs. McCutcheon asked from the dining room table, her voice filled with distress. Faith’s pulse picked up speed while her feet slowed down. Did what? Descending the stairs with Dawn in her arms, she wondered if anyone would notice her eyes, still puffy and red from crying last night.

  “No.”

  The one-word answer from Luke chilled every ounce of blood in her veins. Ward! She couldn’t see him yet, but she could hear the anger in his voice. Was he still mad at her? She paused on the stairway, looking to see who else was in the room.

  “It’s so cruel.” Luke’s mother turned to see Faith descending the stairs. A wan smile crossed her lips. “I can’t understand how someone could take their malicious anger out on a defenseless animal.”

  Faith looked to Luke and found him watching her also. “What happened?”

  “A yearling bull, hamstrung and left for dead this morning,” Luke answered. Anger and frustration were written all over his face.

  “Sounds horrible. What is it?”

  “It’s when a man slices the leg tendons so an animal can’t walk. Has no power over his legs. The animal usually bleeds to death in minutes. We found this particular bull lying in a pool of blood. The animal was weak but still hanging on.” Luke ran a hand through his hair. Faith could feel his anger humming in the room.

  “Can anything be done to save him?” she asked.

  “No. We put him down when we found him.”

  At that moment, Smokey, Chance and Ike, with Colton and Billy in tow, thumped into the house. The cowboys politely removed their hats and waited at the door for Luke.

  “Please, boys,” Mrs. McCutcheon said, “make yourselves comfortable.” But they just stood there.

  The sight of the three brought familiarity and comfort to Faith. Dressed in their sturdy work clothes and not yet dusty this early in the day, they looked wholesome and sweetly attractive. They smiled and nodded in her direction but didn’t say anything.

  Colton hurried to Faith’s side, clearly upset. “Ma,” he said, doing his best to hold back tears. “Matt had to shoot a bull!” His shoulders shook as she drew him into her embrace. He immediately pulled back, perhaps embarrassed in front of the others. He ground one fist in the palm of the other.

  “Did you find out anything new from the men?” Luke asked the ranch hands. “Did anyone see anything or anyone that looked suspicious last night?”

  Smokey took a small step forward. “Not yet, but Roady, he’s down at the bunkhouse just now talkin’ with the boys that rode the late watch. He oughta be here shortly.”

  Mrs. McCutcheon placed a comforting hand on Luke’s arm. “Here he comes now,” the older woman said as she watched out the window. Unease tingled inside Faith: responsibility for the bull. Somehow this was her doing.

  Roady joined the group inside, his brow furrowed in thought. A stony mask covered his face, in sharp contrast to his normally easygoing nature.

  “Well?” Luke said.

  Roady didn’t answer. Looking at Billy and Colton, he seemed apprehensive.

  Luke caught his meaning. “Boys, run out to the barn and unsaddle your horses. They’ve had enough of a workout for one day.”

  “But…Okay, Uncle Luke,” Billy said, heading to the door. He looked over his shoulder. “Come on, Colton, reckon they got things to discuss we can’t hear.”

  With the boys gone, the men, along with Mrs. McCutcheon, crowded around Roady. Faith stayed back.

  Roady turned his hat in his hands, rolling the rim. “No one saw anythin’ definite.”

  “What did they see?” Luke asked.

  Roady looked around at Smokey, Ike and Chance. “I think we’d better discuss this in private, Luke.”

  “Come on, men, we’ve just been dismissed, too,” Smokey said. “We’ll be in the barn with the boys if you need us.”

  The men shuffled for the door, heading out single file. That left Faith, Luke’s mother, Roady and Luke. Faith, feeling like an intruder, headed for the stairs.

  Roady cleared his throat. “You might want to stay, Faith.”

  Fear crackled through her. No, she didn’t want to stay. She didn’t want to be involved in this. But somehow she knew she already was.

  Roady looked apologetically toward Mrs. McCutcheon. “Pedro was coming in around two. Said he heard something in the barn.” He cleared his throat again.

  Faith noted a look of pain on Luke’s face, as if he already knew where this was leading. She wished Roady would just hurry up and spit it out. The suspense was making her sick.
>
  “When he crept in, he saw Ward Brown. Him and Charity…well…”

  Mrs. McCutcheon sank into the welcoming cushions of the tapestry chair, her face pasty white, her eyes closed. Luke was almost out the door when Roady caught his arm.

  Luke shook off his grip. “I’ll kill him.”

  “Just a minute! They were only talking…and getting a mite friendly. Pedro broke it up before…well, he escorted Charity back to Rachel’s. Ward took off and wasn’t seen till morning.”

  “I’ll kill him,” Luke repeated, pacing in front of the fireplace. He stopped and turned on Faith as if just remembering that she was there. His eyes were unreadable. They seared Faith from head to toe.

  Apparently deciding he didn’t want to reveal to his mother the connection, at least not yet, he turned his gaze to her. She still sat quietly.

  “I can run him off or even escort him home,” Roady offered. An unsure expression made his handsome face somber.

  Mrs. McCutcheon stood, her back straight, her blue eyes snapping. “We’re not running him off. That just won’t do.” She ran a hand across her swept-up hair. “Charity’s growing up. Like it or not, it’s a fact. The surest way to send her falling into his arms is to tell her she can’t. The more we say no, the harder she’s going to say yes. Besides, let’s not forget that he did help save Mark from a sure death. That has to count for something.”

  Luke stood frozen, like a predator ready to pounce on some unsuspecting critter. Muscles in his jaw clenched. “We’re not going to do anything about this?”

  “That’s right, Luke.” Mrs. McCutcheon smiled a little, regaining her composure. “I was her age when I first met Flood. As you know, my papa was a preacher and as strict as they come. His constant ravings about the no-good saddle bum that was showing his only daughter a little interest only fueled the fire that was burning inside me.”

  “She has a point, Luke. Just like that old mule you got hanging around here. The minute he gets out he always heads for Esperanza’s garden—the one place he’s not allowed to be.”

  “Are you comparing my sister to that flea-bitten mule?”

  “No, I’m not!” Roady chuckled mirthlessly. “I’m just agreeing with your ma. I think she has a point. If Charity has taken to Brown,” he said distastefully, “then running him off won’t do any good. She’s an expert tracker. She could find him faster than most men in this outfit.”

  “Thank you, Roady,” Luke’s mother said. “We’ll leave this be until I have a chance to talk with Flood. He’ll know what to do. Luke, give me your word you’ll stay clear of that man.”

  Luke grimaced and nodded. “Where’s Charity now?”

  “She hasn’t come home yet from Rachel’s,” his mother answered.

  Luke snorted. “Knowing Charity, she did her very best sweet-talking Pedro last night and thinks he won’t say anything. But she won’t be sure. Right about now the waiting will be driving her crazy.” His eyes glittered, and a slow smile replaced his scowl. “We’ll just let her stew until Pa gets back from the east range. Roady and I’ll ride out and meet Matt up north. See what he’s found out.”

  His hat back on his head, Roady turned to leave. Luke glanced at Faith and said to him, “I’ll catch up in a minute. I’ll find you.”

  “Sure,” Roady replied.

  Mrs. McCutcheon was already halfway up the stairs. Luke gestured to Faith to come have a seat on the sofa. She didn’t want to talk to him then, not when he was so mad, especially after last night, but she approached, Dawn snuggled to her breast as if the baby were her protector.

  Dawn gurgled in delight at the closeness. She had filled out. Her little cheeks were now plump and rosy in color, and she seemed to have transformed overnight into a happy baby instead of a wrinkly newborn.

  “Luke, she just smiled!” Faith pointed out excitedly. All her worry over Luke’s mood was forgotten. “Did you see?”

  “No.” Luke stood ramrod straight. His stance bespoke anger but his pupils darkened. Adoration shimmered in his eyes when he looked down at the baby.

  “It was a real smile, and she was looking right at me.”

  Luke ignored her comment and sat. He waited for her to do the same. “Is he capable of slaughter?” he asked.

  “Ward?” she clarified, feeling all her joy disappear. “Yes. He is. He’s capable of anything.” Again she felt ashamed for bringing this mess to Luke’s doorstep.

  “And compromising Charity?”

  How did an honorable man make sense of the ways of the immoral? Luke would never compromise a woman for his own gratification. He didn’t have it in him.

  She nodded.

  Luke sighed. “I felt pretty sure that he was, but I wanted to hear it from you.”

  “I’m sorry for bringing this trouble to your ranch. And, to you. I wish Ward never found me, never followed after we left.”

  Luke glanced down at a Bible that sat open on a footstool. His face softened. “You know, last night when I found you crying…I thought just maybe you’d open up, tell me what’s eating at you…”

  She couldn’t let him go on. Quickly she pressed her hand to his mouth. “Don’t, Luke. Please, just let it go.”

  “Fine,” he whispered. “It’s done.” He stood and walked to the window that looked out over the ranch. He seemed to be struggling with something. Returning, he handed her a piece of paper. “This is for you.”

  Faith opened it and quickly scanned the telegram’s words. “It’s true, then? About the job?” She sucked in a breath. “And, she wants me as soon as possible.”

  “That’s right. As soon as you feel up to the trip.”

  Ward, her mind shouted. What do I do about Ward? She looked up to find Luke analyzing her.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing. I was just thinking.”

  “Well, that’s plain enough. I want to know what you were thinking.”

  Luke left the question unanswered. “I need to get back to work.” Pulling his hat on, he made for the door.

  “Luke?” she said.

  He turned.

  “Thanks for this,” Faith said, holding up the tattered paper. “Contacting Christine Meeks for me.”

  “I reckon it was the least I could do for a guest staying under our roof.”

  He made it sound so impersonal. Darn him, anyway. Stubborn must be his middle name. Luke Stubborn McCutcheon. She’d tell him, if she could. Confiding the whole darn mess would be a blessing. But she couldn’t. And that’s what she had to remember, strengthen herself to not give in to the temptation.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  WARD Brown was probably still asleep, exhausted from his nocturnal activities.

  Luke untied his horse’s reins from the hitching rail. Across the worn leather of his saddle, he glared at the bunkhouse. Wanting to kick himself for not seeing this coming and allocating one of the men to watch the stranger day and night, he sighed. He should have trusted Faith’s initial comments about the man, explained or not. He shouldn’t have been so caught up in trying to discern her other motives.

  A firm knot formed in his chest. Charity. She’d been his constant and all-adoring shadow forever. As soon as she was able to ride on her own she’d been tagging along after him. Rain, snow, it didn’t matter. Kindred spirits, she’d called them. And he realized that he hadn’t given her much of his time since he’d returned from this drive.

  Lucky stepped out of the bunkhouse. The cook limped around back, slop bucket in one hand and kitchen cloth hanging over his shoulder. His limp seemed more pronounced this morning, and Luke realized just how old his friend was getting.

  Returning, Lucky spotted him. He waved and started over, shaking his head. “Just a shame. About the bull, I mean. I jist can’t cotton to any feller who’d do such a thing. Can’t understand it.”

  “None of us can, Lucky.”

  “It’s truly a shame. Any idea who dun it?”

  “I have my suspicions, but nothing we can pin down yet,�
� Luke said. “But I won’t rest until we know.”

  Lucky looked away, clearly not able to meet his gaze. “I almost forgot to tell ya,” he said slowly. “Yesterday, when you all rode inta town, missy”—his voice caught—“came by. She was looking for Ward.”

  Luke’s stare drifted from Lucky to the house, stopping on Faith’s upstairs window. More secrets?

  “They sat out on the porch for a spell, talking. I went out once to check on ’em, and missy, she looked white as a sheet. I’m thinkin’ that polecat is stickin’ around for more reasons than his injured leg.”

  His next move was clear. Pulling his horse around, Luke stuck his foot in the stirrup. In one easy motion he was mounted. “Thanks, Lucky. Keep your eye on Ward today, will you? I want to know if he leaves the bunkhouse. Send Francis to get me if he does, but don’t let him know he’s being watched. I’m going out to where the bull was killed.”

  The old man nodded in understanding, and Luke galloped off.

  The bull had been of superior breeding and worth a small fortune, but the cruelty of the act was far more serious. Unfortunately, the perpetrator left no evidence. After an hour came and went, Luke wasn’t any closer to knowing anything more.

  Frustration ate at him as he rode back. And annoyance at not being able to pin the bull’s crippling on Ward wasn’t the only thing gnawing at his insides. Faith’s visit with Ward mystified him. And Charity, his sister’s lack of judgment. He couldn’t believe that she’d actually gone seeking the man out. In fact, he wouldn’t believe it. It had to have been the other way around. Didn’t Charity know if they’d gone too far Ward could end up her husband?

  “I want to marry you, Luke. Then we can be together always,” Charity had said once, when she was not any older than Colton. Her sweet words had touched his young heart, grounding him in her love.

  He’d laughed, of course. “You’ll think different when you’re older, half-pint. Some handsome man will ride up and steal your heart. He’ll take you away to some faraway place.”