A clutch of solemn-faced women filed out the back door, and Diego stood to face the scattered men on the porch. “Like it or not, gents, the time has come. Let’s wind things up here and get back on the trail.”
His gaze darted over to the ladies. Mrs. Campbell noticed and hooked her thumb toward the house. “The poor dear is stretched across the bed in the guestroom fast asleep. Still crying, she was. I spread a blanket over her.”
Diego nodded and made a quick decision. “You mind if I leave her where she is for now?”
Hands clasped in front of her apron, Mrs. Campbell solemnly nodded. “I think it would be a shame to wake her.”
Cuddy sighed. “I don’t know, Diego. Emily wants to look for her folks, and I don’t blame her.”
Diego placed a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t either, but she’ll sleep until we get back. If we have her parents with us, she’ll be happy. If we don’t, she can spit and spew while she helps us search some more, but at least she’ll be rested.”
Cuddy nodded. “You have a point.” He grinned. “I mean besides the one on your head.”
Diego slapped him on the back, probably too hard. “Come on, then. Let’s go find your father.”
***
Magda was ten years old again, running along the windswept bank of Big Cypress Bayou. Her matted curls streamed behind her head as she dodged crawdad mounds and cypress knees.
Bertha gave chase, her head tossed back and her mouth wide with laughter. As they ran, the mists rising from the bayou darkened, enclosing them in thick, black froth.
Two figures appeared—Thad, Bertha’s long-departed husband, and Willem, smiling sweetly. A brilliant beam swirled from them in a rush, penetrating the haze and stabbing Magda’s eyes. She frantically tossed her head to get free of the piercing light.
Bertha shook her shoulder. “Wake up, sugar. With all that thrashing about, you must be having a dream.”
Magda sat up in the wagon and squinted against the sun’s rays. “Gracious! What time is it?”
“I don’t know. Well past dawn, that’s for sure. We must’ve slept like the dead.”
Magda’s gaze shot to Willem and her heart plunged. “Oh, Bertha. I think Willem might be.”
“Might be what?”
“Dead.”
Bertha’s head swung around. “Why do you say a thing like that?”
“Because I saw him in my dream, standing beside Thad in a mist.”
Bertha moved faster than Magda thought possible and pressed her ear to Willem’s chest. After a moment, she raised her head. “Nope. Still ticking.”
Running her trembling hand over his hair, a lump formed in Magda’s throat. “He’s still out, though. I don’t think he could sleep this long and be all right. Do you?” She wrung her hands. “Where in the devil could John be with that doctor?”
Bertha lifted one hand. “Hush a minute.” Looking scared, she pushed to her knees, listening carefully. “Magda, why’s it so quiet?” Standing, she spun in a circle. “Where on earth are the men?”
Magda held one hand over her heart. “What do you mean where are they? Stop that. You’re scaring me.”
Bertha shaded her eyes and stared toward the cattle, grazing much farther away than they’d been the day before. “I’m afraid it may be time to get scared.” Her face as pale as Willem’s, she blinked down at Magda. “There’s not a soul here but us, sugar. We’re all alone.”
CHAPTER 32
“Miss Emily?”
Emmy whirled toward the sound, nearly falling off the bed in her haste. Fully dressed and tangled in covers from the waist down, she lay in a strange bed in a strange room staring at a lovely young woman she’d never met.
Her heartbeat swelled in her chest until it frightened her. “Where am I?”
A little brown-haired girl with big eyes peeked from behind the young woman’s skirt. “We’re the Campbells, ma’am. Don’t you remember?”
The picture of a small hand tucked in hers flashed through Emmy’s mind. The prayer circle. The search party. Mama and Papa.
Struggling against the covers, she swung her legs to the floor. Her stormy gaze flashed to the square of light around the window shade. “They left me?”
“You were sleeping,” the little one announced.
“Hush, Racheal. Let her get her bearings.” The older girl approached cautiously. “I’m Margaret. The oldest. Please, call me Megan. I hope you slept well”—her sweeping hand took in Emmy’s boots and clothes—“despite all that.”
Staring dully, Emmy brushed unruly strands of hair from her eyes, but static from the blue blanket teased them into the air in wriggling strands. “I can’t believe Diego left me.” She lifted her eyes. “Did he say anything?”
Megan pointed at the bed. “May I sit?”
Emmy nodded and slid to the side.
“Diego felt there was no reason to wake you. He said if you were that exhausted you needed to rest.”
Little Racheal jumped when Emmy slapped the side of the bed. “He had no right. It should’ve been my decision to make.”
The door creaked open and four more sets of curious eyes peered from the hall. Megan stamped her foot. “Stop all that sneaking about and say good morning to Emily.”
The girls filed in like obedient stair-steps, each a bit taller than the next. With their hands behind their backs, they curtsied one at a time in the order of their height. In other circumstances, Emmy would’ve been charmed.
The tallest came forward. “Morning, ma’am. I’m Samantha. They call me Sami.”
“And I’m Lauren,” the next one said. “Named after my uncle Laurence. I fetched you for the prayer circle. Remember?”
They were all blond, but the girl standing next to last had hair as white as Emmy’s. “My name is Emily.” Her cherry red mouth parted in a self-conscious smile. “Same as you.” She picked up the last tyke in line, a curly-topped angel. “This here’s Layla. She’s four.”
A bedraggled Mrs. Campbell appeared in the doorway, one hand holding a stack of folded clothes, the other over her heart. “Heavens! I see you’ve all disobeyed me. I asked you not to make pests of yourselves.” She smiled gently at Emmy. “You must be hungry. You’ve slept right though breakfast, but I’ve kept a plate warming for you.”
Emmy fought through her bitter disappointment to find her manners. “Thank you, ma’am. I suppose I am.”
“I’ve got clean clothes here for you. Megan’s about your size.” She laughed. “Wouldn’t have been last summer, but she hit a growing spurt.” She pointed at Emmy’s feet. “And two pair of fresh socks.”
“Oh, I couldn’t impose.”
“It’s no trouble at all. We’re glad to help.”
Waving her apron like a matador, Mrs. Campbell swept her brood of girls from the room. “All right now, let’s go and leave our guest some privacy.” She turned at the entrance. “I’m sorry they descended upon you before you’d barely opened your eyes. They meant no harm, just curious.”
Emmy nodded. “Of course.”
“Take your time, dear,” she said before easing the door shut.
Alone with her thoughts, Emmy mulled over how Diego could possibly have betrayed her trust. After the way he’d so tenderly ministered to her the night before, she thought he’d accepted her need to be part of the search.
She struggled to free herself from the pesky cover that wound around her lower body. Jerking the last persistent corner from under her bottom, she dashed it to the floor.
A pan of warm water and a clean towel awaited her on the dressing table, so she freshened up the best she could without a way to clean her teeth or brush her knotted hair. Rinsing the former and combing her fingers through the latter, she made a note to herself to pack her toiletries the next time she dashed off on a search party.
Her eyes flickered away from her image in the mirror. The flippant thought shamed her. Too much was at stake to find humor in any part of the situation.
She changed cl
othes then washed her tender feet before pulling on the socks and dreaded boots. With a heavy heart, she headed down to the Campbells’ kitchen, but not before folding the blue blanket and placing it on the end of the bed.
It wasn’t hard to find her way. The chatter of little girls led her into an open, cheery room lined with bright yellow shelves. Mrs. Campbell hovered over a pan of dishes—washing while Megan, the oldest, dried. Fair-haired Emily, who shared Emmy’s name, plied a broom on the kitchen floor. Lauren on the left and Sami on the right, if she remembered them correctly, bent over lessons at the table. Racheal and Layla sat on the floor scribbling pictures on a sheet of paper.
Emmy cleared her throat. “Good morning.”
All eyes in the room swung her way. Little Racheal’s forehead creased. “We already said that.”
“Hush!” her mother said, pulling out an empty chair for Emmy. “I know these eggs have turned to rubber. I’ll fix you fresh if you’d like.”
Emmy waved her hand. “No, ma’am. These are fine.”
Seven pairs of eyes followed the track of her fork to her mouth. Her cheeks warming, she pressed her napkin to her lips and swallowed.
Mrs. Campbell drew in a sharp breath, breaking the trance. “All right, ladies. Back to your own business. Let Miss Emily eat in peace.”
They quickly obeyed, Megan to her dishcloth, Emily to her broom, Layla to her drawing, and the middle two returned to their studies. Only pot-bellied Racheal stood clinging to the side of the table, staring at Emmy with wide brown eyes.
Emmy tore off a bite of bacon and tucked it into the child’s mouth. She blinked, her long lashes sweeping close to her cheeks, and then she beamed like a ray of sunshine and opened for more. Together, they had the plate nearly clean when Emmy heard the unmistakable sound of approaching riders.
She stood so fast she had to reach and steady Racheal before running to the window. Her heart crowding her throat, she whirled. “It’s them. It’s Diego.”
The girls scrambled to their feet, all talking at once. Mrs. Campbell spun from the counter. “Do they have your parents?”
Anticipation coursed through Emmy’s body, and her hand clutched her throat. “Oh, Mrs. Campbell. I don’t know.” Weaving past the inquisitive little girls, she burst out onto the porch, hope so strong in her heart she felt faint.
Followed by Cuddy and the Campbell brothers, Diego rode into the yard and came to a stop near the porch. One look at his drawn, dejected face as he dismounted gave Emmy her answer before she asked. Her parents were still lost.
***
Diego lowered his eyes. He couldn’t bear Emmy’s air of lost hope. For the last ten miles of grueling, spirit-busting trail, he’d prayed to stumble onto Mr. Rawson and her parents so he could return rejoicing instead of bearing bad news. One look at her told him he’d be spared speaking the words aloud.
Head down, she ran to him. He opened his arms, ready to comfort her, but she rammed him instead, her fists pounding his chest. “Why did you leave me? I could’ve done something.”
Diego pressed her closer. “No, honey. You couldn’t succeed where eighty men failed.”
She pushed away from him. “Where is everyone? Where are the rest?”
He tensed and swallowed hard. “I sent them home.”
She gaped at him. “How could you do that? We haven’t found them yet.”
Catching hold of her wrists, he lowered her to the porch and sat beside her. “They were spent, Emmy. We’ve covered miles of the roughest country in South Texas. I had to send them home before I lost most of them.”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “But I won’t give up, I promise.” He lifted his chin at Cuddy. “Neither will Cuddy. We plan to sleep for a couple of hours then head back out.”
“I’m going with you.”
He pulled her close and smoothed her hair. “We’ll talk about it.”
Mrs. Campbell stood on the threshold holding back the screen door. Lester crossed the yard and glanced up at her. “Where’s Pa?”
“He’s been at it all morning, covering for you boys.” She waved her dishcloth. “Don’t worry about that now. Tend all these horses, then eat something and go to bed. You can take over his chores this afternoon.”
Diego took off his hat and peered up at Mrs. Campbell. “We’re grateful for their help. I hope it hasn’t caused too much trouble.”
She smiled down at him. “What are neighbors for? We’re glad to—” Her gazed jumped from Diego to something behind him. “Look.” She pointed. “There comes a rider.”
Cuddy jumped on the porch and shaded his eyes. “Coming fast, too.”
Diego joined him. “Can you see who it is?”
“No, but I know that horse. It’s Little Pete.”
Emmy flew to her feet. “Little Pete? You don’t suppose he has good news?”
Diego glanced at her. The tone of her voice was hopeful, but her unease and the way she asked the question said she was afraid to get her hopes up too high. Diego tried not to add fuel to the fire. “Relax, honey. It could be about anything. Something’s always going wrong on a ranch.”
Cuddy leaped down. “Whatever it is, we’re about to find out.”
The three of them hurried to meet Little Pete as he drove the frothing horse into the yard. Cuddy reached him first. “What’s wrong, Pete? Has something happened?”
Looking past Cuddy, his eyes full moons, Little Pete sought Diego’s face. “Señor! He’s come home!”
Joy surged in Diego’s chest. “Mr. Rawson? He’s home?”
Emmy squeezed between them and clutched the front of Pete’s shirt. “And my parents, too?”
Shock registered on Little Pete’s face. “No, no, Señorita Dane.” He pushed her aside and stalked to Diego. “Not Mr. Rawson, señor!” His hysterical voice was shrill. “Faron! Faron’s come home without a rider.”
White-faced, Cuddy jerked his gaze to Diego.
Emmy spun, desperately clinging to Diego’s shirt before she crumpled. Grief-stricken, Diego picked her up and carried her limp body to the house.
CHAPTER 33
Terrified, Magda clung to Willem’s lifeless hand. Her eyes darting at every sound, she prayed for John to ride up on Faron telling her everything would be fine. She prayed for Benito, Juan, even Carl to saunter out of the brush. Tightening into a ball in the rear of the wagon, she prayed for God at least to bring Bertha back from where she’d gone.
More than half an hour had passed since she’d announced she was going to scout out their situation. No matter how hard Magda begged, the spunky little woman had wriggled to the end of the wagon bed and dropped off the end. “Stay here,” she’d ordered, as if Magda had anywhere to go. “I’ve got to try and sort this out.”
Magda tried to busy herself with caring for Willem, wiping his face and trickling more water into his mouth, but she grew more frightened with each passing second. Shuddering, she imagined the dried-up shells of men scattered somewhere nearby, drained of every drop of blood by a sharp-fanged beast.
If Bertha had fallen into the clutches of whatever was picking them off, she and Willem were next. Glancing around, she scoured the wagon for a weapon, but all she had at her disposal were Bertha’s crates from the mercantile.
She broke into the two nearest boxes and groaned. No matter how imaginative Magda was, she couldn’t devise a way of using child-sized bloomers or hardtack to fend off a carnivorous animal thirsty for her life’s blood.
The third box held more promise. She took a quick count of the contents, wondering how long she could hold off a bloodsucker with twenty cans of beans.
“This ain’t no time for filling your gut.”
Nearly swallowing her tongue, Magda drew back and threw.
Bertha ducked and the can sailed over her head, bouncing off the trunk of an oak tree with a dull thud. She peeked over the wagon bed with astonished eyes. “Did you just throw a can of beans at me?”
Limp, Magda fell against the backboard. “I r
eckon I did.”
“What possessed you?”
“Something with fangs, I think.”
Bertha stood up straight. “What?”
“Never mind. What did you find out?”
“I found out we’re alone, all right. There’s no trace of those men.” She pointed. “Except for their things. Juan even left his cooking pots behind.” She shook her head. “Why would they go with only the clothes on their backs and leave two women to fend for themselves?”
Magda heaved a sigh. “For themselves and a whole herd of cattle.”
Bertha pursed her lips. “Well, that’s another thing. There ain’t near the cattle there was last night. The herd’s smaller by half.”
Magda rose to her knees and crawled to where Bertha stood, wincing at the stiffness that had set in from sitting so long beside Willem. “Would you like to tell me how six grown men and half a herd could simply vanish?” She shook her head. “It don’t happen, Bertha. What’s going on here?”
“Six?” Bertha counted on her fingers. “How do you cipher six men?”
“First, that no ’count Wayne—”
“Wayne ran off.”
“Then John and the doctor—”
“It’s wishful thinking to assume there’s a doctor. I don’t think John made it that far.”
“Now Benito, Juan, and Carl. That makes six.” Tears sprang to Magda’s eyes. “Whether five or six, half the herd or one, they’re gone. Missing under very peculiar circumstances.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “And we’re next.”
Bertha furrowed her brow. “Don’t start making something spooky out of this. There’s got to be a simple explanation.”
Magda slid her legs off the wagon to dangle them from the side. “I wish you’d explain it then, because I’m downright scared.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Not so much for myself. It’s Willem. He’s lying there so helpless.”
She wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands. “That man has taken care of me for twenty-two years. When he needs me the most, I’m not sure I can return the favor.”
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