“Why couldn’t you?”
Magda flapped her hands in frustration. “I don’t even know what we’re up against.”
Crossing her arms, Bertha stared in concentration. “First off, them cows ain’t missing under peculiar circumstances.”
Magda squinted at her. “So you believe some ran away and the others stayed?”
Bertha snorted. “I think they was escorted away. Those men stole them.”
“Why half the herd?”
Bertha raised her chin. “The best half, them with no horns.”
Magda placed her hands on her hips. “I’ll never believe Benito and that nice Juan are capable of such a thing. Don’t you remember how kind their eyes were and how they looked after us on the trail?”
Bertha scratched her head. “I’ll agree they didn’t seem to have any potential for mischief. And poor simple Carl couldn’t pull this off without written instructions.” Her eyes narrowed. “But that brother of his sure could.”
Magda lifted her finger. “True, but he’d have to convince Benito and Juan to go along. He wasn’t around long enough. And don’t forget John. What happened to him?” She looked at Willem again. “John would never leave his friend in this condition.”
Walking thoughtfully to the thrown can, Bertha picked it up and examined it through squinted eyes. “We’re spinning in the wind with all this jaw flapping. We’re only sure of one thing at this point—we have to find help for Willem.” She tossed the can at Magda. “Climb down out of there and fix us something to eat. I’ll be hitching up the horses.”
Magda scrambled to the ground, hope surging in her chest. “You really think we can find help, Bertha?”
“I reckon we’d better.”
“But where do we go? For that matter, where are we now?”
Bertha wadded her fists on her hips and stared in the direction they’d come. “John’s had us following the river since Eagle Pass. I’d say we’ve come better than twenty miles.” She looked over her shoulder. “Which means we’re halfway to Carrizo Springs.” She made a quarter turn and pointed. “All we have to do is head due east. We’re bound to hit that Indian trail eventually. From there we know the way home.”
Excitement and fear built twin fires in Magda’s gut. “But that’s a long, hard ride. What if Willem can’t make it, Bertha? And what if we get lost?”
Bertha swiveled at the waist to glare at her. “What if we sit right here and wait for the three of us to die?”
Magda swallowed. “Wouldn’t it be smarter to find this El Indio place John told us about? He said it was only a few miles back.”
“Good idea, sugar.” Bertha held her arm out, swiveling it as she spoke. “Is it that way, close to the river? Maybe more northeast? What about right down the middle?” She shook her head. “Unless John drew you a map you haven’t told me about, I say we stick to what we know.” She ducked her head at Willem. “We know there’s a doctor in Carrizo Springs.”
Magda glanced at the remaining cattle on the distant plain. “What about the herd?”
“We leave them here. We’re not drovers, and there’s enough to worry about with Willem. John can round them up later.” She waved at the supplies. “Forget cooking. Just rustle up something we can eat on the way.”
Magda’s ears buzzed as if a cricket sing-along swelled inside her head. “I don’t know, Bertha. I’m still not sure.”
Bertha tromped to where she stood. “Merciful heavens! All this hand wringing and second-guessing ain’t your style. What’s got into you?” Her stormy gaze flew to Willem again. “We need to make a decision and get on the road. We’re wasting precious time.”
Sobs welled inside of Magda. She released them in a piteous moan. “I’m sorry, Bertha. And grateful. I’ve always been the strong one, but with Willem so bad off, I’ve wilted like hot greens.”
Bertha hugged her around the middle. “What’s really bothering you, sugar?”
The tears flowed harder. She wiped them from her cheeks before they dripped on Bertha’s head. “I’m afraid to find a doctor. I don’t think I’ll like what he has to say.”
Bertha leaned back and gave her a shake. “You’re stronger than that, honey. And if not, I’ll be with you.”
Magda wiped her eyes. “You’ve been there for me already. I can never repay you.”
“No need. You were there for me when I lost Thad.” She released Magda, her jaw set. “Only we ain’t losing Willem. I say we head toward Carrizo Springs as fast as we can.”
Tilting her head, Magda gazed at her from narrowed eyes. “You’re having one of your feelings, aren’t you?”
Bertha nodded firmly. “Yep, a strong feeling, and one we’d best heed.”
Smiling, Magda mimicked her nod. “Go hitch the horses, then. I’ll get us ready to go.”
***
Emmy bolted upright on the Campbells’ settee. Before her spinning head convinced her to squeeze her eyes shut again, she caught a glimpse of Diego’s drawn face. Unless she was mistaken, Mrs. Campbell and her frightened girls flanked him. She shook her head to clear it and carefully opened her eyes.
Diego pressed closer. “Are you all right?”
She scooted to the edge of the cushion, forcing him to make room for her knees. “Tell me what it means, Diego,” she pleaded, resting her forehead on her palms. “If Faron returned without Mr. Rawson, they’re not coming home, are they?”
He grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away. “It means no such thing.”
Her head jerked up. “Then explain it.”
His bluster wilted. “I can’t, not yet. I’ll know a lot more when I see Faron.”
“What will that tell you?” she asked.
“If he’s been wet or he’s muddy, if he’s scratched up from briars, then I’ll have a better idea of where he’s been.” He averted his eyes. “The condition of the saddle or stirrups might tell me if he’s been dragging a rider.”
He latched onto her arms. “One thing I do know. We’ve been going about the search all wrong.”
She sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”
“Remember what you asked me? If they were headed to the Campbells’, why didn’t they make it?”
She nodded.
“It’s because they were no longer headed to the Campbells’. Little Pete said Faron came home along the road to Eagle Pass.”
She blinked. “That’s far away, isn’t it?”
“About forty miles.” His mouth tightened. “Forty miles in the opposite direction.”
Her head reeled again. “They wouldn’t go all the way to Eagle Pass without telling anyone. Would they?”
Joe Campbell stepped out of the kitchen with a plate of food in his hand. “Did somebody say Eagle Pass?”
Diego nodded.
The color drained from the boy’s face. He sat on the arm of an easy chair and slid his plate onto the low table in front of him. Staring at the floor, he shook his head. “Naw, it couldn’t be.”
Concern lining her brow, Mrs. Campbell stepped closer. “What is it, son?”
He gazed up at her, his face a blank slate. “I think I saw Mr. Rawson on the road. In fact, I sent him and his friends to Eagle Pass.”
“What?”
With so many voices shouting the word, Joe couldn’t make up his mind who to answer. He settled on his mother. “I met some folks on their way here to buy stock. I told them we sold all we had then suggested a breeder in Eagle Pass.”
“Joseph Campbell! Why didn’t you speak up sooner?”
He cut frightened eyes to Diego. “The man never said he was Mr. Rawson, that’s why. I told him I was headed for the Twisted-R Ranch, and he never said a word. If he was the owner, wouldn’t he have said something?”
Laughing, Cuddy spoke up from the corner where he lounged against the wall. “I told you there wasn’t anything wrong. They’re living it up in Eagle Pass without a care in the world, just like I thought.”
Emmy swung toward him. “Then wha
t about Faron?”
He waved off her concern. “Faron got away from the old man and came home. Though my father would never admit it, that horse is too much for him.”
Little Pete cleared his throat. “Um ... Diego?”
Diego swiveled to see him better. “What is it, Pete?”
Pete tugged on his collar and swallowed. “Speaking of Faron, I forgot to tell you one thing.”
Diego stood, his back rigid. “Go ahead.”
“Señora Rawson? She’s ordered him shot.”
“And you’re telling me now?”
“ Siento mucho, señor. When the lady fainted, I—”
Diego whirled to Emmy. “Can you ride?”
She leaped to her feet. “Yes!”
He waved over his shoulder and ran for the door. “Let’s go!”
Emmy rushed to follow the men outside, calling her thanks to Mrs. Campbell as she went.
Megan waved from the porch, but the five younger girls chased them from the yard, squealing and shouting their good-byes.
Emmy’s gaze followed Diego riding just ahead. Concern for him stirred an ache inside worse than sore muscles or tender feet. His rich complexion appeared ashy with fatigue, and dark smudges around his eyes deepened the sockets. It amazed her how the news about Faron brought a surge of new life. His distress was more than the normal reaction for the welfare of a helpless animal. Diego had to love the big horse very much.
Dodging flying debris from the thundering hooves up ahead, Emmy prayed Faron wouldn’t wind up the first tragic casualty in a string of potential losses.
***
Cringing, Melatha tossed the pan of bread in the sink with a rattle and clang then closed the oven door and ran.
Kate Rawson had awakened. Her shrill voice on the back porch left no doubt of the fact. Still in her dressing gown and slippers, the hair on her head shot in every direction, not unlike a disgruntled badger.
Melatha eased closer, but not too close.
The woman brandished a long-barreled pistol in her hand. “I want it done, and done now!” she shrieked. “No more delays.”
Poor Felipe squirmed, twisting his hat in his hands. “I have not the authority, señora.” He looked over his shoulder, desperation widening his eyes. “I only cover for Pete. He will return soon.”
She raised the gun, waving it for emphasis, sending Felipe ducking and spinning out of range. “What do you mean you have no authority? I am your authority, and I’m ordering you to shoot that horse.” She stamped her foot. “This instant.”
“But, señora...”
Slipping a few steps nearer, Melatha began to speak to her in a soothing voice. “Mrs. Rawson? Kate?”
She whirled. “Melatha, it won’t work this time. You convinced me to lie down for a bit so I wouldn’t be acting in haste. Well, I’ve done as you asked, and I’m more determined than ever. That demon should’ve been put down hours ago,” she pressed her free hand to her trembling mouth, and her voice rose to a shrill wail, “when he trotted into this yard looking for feed after killing my John!”
Melatha reached around Kate’s waist while gently lowering the arm holding the gun, all the while cooing comfort in her ear. Kate’s shoulders went limp, and Melatha guided her toward the house.
At the door, the distraught woman lifted startled eyes and spun away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t allow him to live.”
She bolted down the steps with the pistol, passing a cowering Felipe and sailing across the yard with the hem of her robe flapping behind her.
Melatha screamed for Felipe to get help then lit out after her. “Kate, please! Don’t do this thing.”
Not even glancing behind her, Kate disappeared inside the barn. Bounding toward the wide doorway, Melatha prayed for wings on her feet. She dashed inside and froze, holding her breath.
Kate stood before Faron’s stall with the gun trained on him.
Dark as pitch in the shadowy barn, Faron held his nose high, the agitated toss of his head flashing pinpoints of light from his black mane. His ears were pinned back and his wide stare revealed the glowing whites of his eyes. In that moment, Faron looked the part of a devil.
Melatha inched forward. “Kate, don’t. This act will haunt you all your days.”
Kate cocked the hammer.
Faron reared.
Melatha covered her eyes and opened her mouth to scream.
Something tore past her in a whoosh. Startled, she opened her eyes.
Isi, his outstretched arms reaching for Kate Rawson, dove. A blast from the pistol rocked the barn.
CHAPTER 34
The wagon bumped along the uneven ground, tossing Willem’s body like corkwood. Magda held his head, trying with little success to hold it steady. She bobbed to see Bertha between the slats of the rear seat. “This isn’t going to work! We’re going to kill him.”
Bertha looked over her shoulder. “This is a rough patch, honey. We’ll be past it soon.” She turned to the front, but her voice carried to Magda. “I see a clear spot just ahead.”
“Hurry and reach it then,” Magda cried.
“If I hurry, you’ll both be tossed out on your ears.”
Fighting tears, Magda let her little finger slide to the back of Willem’s head to probe around the wound for signs of infection. She felt no extra heat or excess swelling in the area and breathed a sigh of relief. She made a mental note to give him a bit of water when they stopped. If she tried it now, she’d likely drown him.
Magda studied his serene face and a smile tugged at her lips. Her husband’s Scandinavian roots had sprouted a fine figure of a man in Willem Dane. Despite attempts to keep him shaded, the sun he staunchly avoided due to his pale complexion had found him in South Texas. It had reddened his cheeks to a rosy glow and masked the deathly white pallor of the day before. Dark lines beneath his eyes and a thin white ring around his blush-colored lips were the only signs of his current distress.
She leaned to kiss him gently on the mouth, and his lack of response broke her heart.
“Magda,” Bertha called. “That ain’t no clearing ahead.” She paused. “Honey, I think it’s a road.”
Rising to her knees, Magda strained to see past Bertha. “Are you sure? That would be an answer to prayer.”
Bertha let out a whoop. “Get busy thanking God then, because it’s a road.”
“Where?”
“Just a few yards in front of us.” She twisted on the seat. “But don’t get your hopes up until we make sure it’s going our way.”
Magda held Willem’s head, and despite Bertha’s warning, clung to her hope until the uneven ground gave way to a smooth track for the wheels.
Bertha pulled back on the reins and set the brake.
Relieved to let go of Willem’s head, Magda shook the cramps out of her arms and scooted off the end of the wagon.
They met in the middle of the dirt road that stretched for miles in both directions.
“Well?” Magda asked.
“It’s headed east, all right.” She peered up at the sun. “At least I think.”
“You think? What kind of answer is that?”
Bertha swatted the air behind her and walked a few steps. “I ain’t good at reading the sky, but, Magda, it must be.”
Turning, she gazed in the other direction. “It has to be the road connecting El Indio with Carrizo Springs.” She slapped her leg. “I’d bet my last dollar, which means we’ll be within shouting distance of the Twisted-R before nightfall.”
They stared at each other for a second while the information sank in. Bertha pulled up her skirt and danced an Irish jig on the hard-packed ground while Magda laughed and kept time with her hands.
Sobering, she caught Bertha’s arm. “Stop that before you have a stroke. In this heat, it ain’t safe.”
Breathing hard, Bertha bent at the waist, panting. “Why didn’t you say that sooner?” She looked up and grinned. “You might be too late.”
Hustling to the rig,
Magda reached over the side for the canteen and brought it to Bertha. “Have a sip of water before I give Willem some, and then we’d better get going.”
Still clutching her side, Bertha twisted off the top then gave the canteen a little shake. “This sure feels light. Better hand me a full one.”
Magda dug in the box where they kept the canteens, testing the weight of them and growing more upset with each one she lifted. “They’re all light.” She spun to stare at Bertha. “I think they’re empty.”
Bertha lowered her head and gave Magda a menacing look. “That can’t be. I told you to fill them.”
Magda waved her finger back and forth. “No, you didn’t. You said you filled them.”
Running to see for herself, Bertha buried her arms in the wooden box, tossing the empty containers like a crazed juggler. Turning, she gave Magda a scorching glance. “What sort of dim-witted stunt have we pulled?”
The enormity of the situation slammed Magda between the eyes. A mix-up had cost them six canteens of water. “Check the drums John brought for the horses.”
Bertha shook her head and rattled the barrel. “Empty. I heard him say so. He planned to fill them before we left the river.”
Magda’s eyes darted to Willem. She raised her head and squinted at the blazing overhead sun. “Bertha, this is awful.”
Reading the panic on her face, Bertha patted her arm. “Don’t fret, now. We’re bound to run across a creek or something.” Glancing at the canteen still in her hand, she licked her dry lips and held it out to Magda. “Meanwhile, we save every drop for Willem.”
Magda placed her hand on the life-giving gift. “But you’re thirsty.”
Bertha shoved it away. “For Willem.”
***
Diego raised himself to his elbows then sprang to his feet and leaned over Mrs. Rawson. “Are you all right, ma’am?” He glanced at Faron. The frantic horse paced his stall.
Mrs. Rawson huddled on the ground crying softly, ignoring him.
Cuddy knelt behind her, his hands on her shoulders. “I’ll take it from here, Diego. See about Faron.”
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