Emmy's Equal

by Marcia Gruver

  The horse’s name triggered hysterical wails from the prone woman. She pushed off the ground and staggered from the barn with Cuddy and Diego’s mother at her side.

  Diego hurried to the stall. Faron still snorted and pawed but settled down some when Diego slipped inside and began to slide his hands over the horse’s body. He explored every inch of the trembling stallion, checking his fingers often for any sign of blood.

  Emmy stood at the door, gripping the top slat with white-knuckled fingers.

  Little Pete stood beside her, his hands shoved deep inside his pockets. Watching Diego check Faron, Pete moaned and shifted from side to side. “It’s my fault, Diego. If I’d told you sooner...”

  Diego spared a tight smile for Pete then returned his attention to Faron. “Nonsense. It’s no one’s fault.”

  Greta, her eyes wide with fright, hurried inside the barn with Diego’s mother on her heels. The women stared toward Faron.

  “Is he all right?” Diego’s mother asked.

  Diego gazed at her in wonder. “There’s not a mark on him.”

  “Thank God!”

  He grinned. “I already have.”

  Greta reached for Emmy’s hand. “I’m so glad, Diego.”

  Diego returned her warm smile. “So am I. For your mother’s sake as much as Faron’s.” He gave Faron one last pat, signaling for Pete to take over his care, and stepped out of the stall. He walked to Greta and gave a slight bow. “I pray I didn’t harm your mother.”

  Greta bit her bottom lip. “She’s fine. Physically, at least.” The wistful smile disappeared, replaced by despair. “Do you think my father’s really dead?”

  Emmy’s arm went around her shoulders. “We refuse to think it. Cuddy says Faron got away from your father and came home, that’s all. He’s convinced our parents and my aunt Bertha are having a high old time in Eagle Pass.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  Emmy gave her a gentle squeeze. “I choose to believe it for now. I suggest you do the same.”

  Helplessness welled in Greta’s eyes. “So we’re just going to sit here and wait for them to return?”

  Diego shook his head. “No, Greta. In fact, I’ll be heading out to search for them again as soon as I get a bath and a couple of hours’ sleep.” He stretched and glanced at his mother. “I wouldn’t mind a bite of food.”

  She dipped her head and hurried for the door.

  Diego smiled and nodded after her. “That means I’d better hurry. She’ll expect me to arrive clean at her table, so if you’ll excuse me.”

  Emmy latched onto his arm as he passed. “What time do we leave?”

  Diego stiffened. He had dreaded the question. Facing her, determination sharpened his tone. “Not this time.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re not coming this time.”

  Her searching gaze bored under his skin. “What are you saying? Of course I’m coming.”

  He tried to fill his voice with authority. “I’m taking Pete with me this time. We can make better time alone.”

  Emmy’s fingers tightened on his arm. “Wait a minute. What about Cuddy?”

  “Since Cuddy needs to stay behind and tend his mother, he’ll be in charge of the ranch.”

  She released him, her eyes like burning coals. “Who are you to make these decisions for us? You have no right.”

  He drew in a breath to help calm his anger. It didn’t work. “This country’s too rough for you, Emmy. There’s no place in South Texas for frills and piled-up hair.”

  She drew back and glared. “You don’t waste words, do you?”

  He wanted to shake her. “Don’t you remember the condition you were in last night? You could hardly walk and fell asleep the first time you laid your head down.”

  She dropped her gaze.

  “At the first hint of bad news, I had to carry you inside the house.”

  She flinched.

  He wished he’d bitten his tongue before adding the last part, but he had to make her see.

  She stood silent, offering no more resistance.

  He nodded toward Little Pete. “Get some rest. We’re pulling out in four hours. We’ll be heading to El Indio then along the river to Eagle Pass. They’d take that route if they were driving cattle. We’ll circle back around to Carrizo from there. I think we’ll know something by then.” Striding from the barn, he stopped on the threshold. “And Pete...”

  “Señor?”

  “Have Faron saddled and ready.”

  “Sí, señor.”

  ***

  Emmy stormed from the barn, raging fury stealing her peace, her good sense, her very breath. Seeking privacy, she circled the house and sat in the shade of the seldom-used front porch, gulping to breathe and struggling to compose herself.

  Self-disappointment burned hotter than her anger toward Diego. There would be no more rash threats to borrow a horse and search for her parents alone. She was weak, a failing she couldn’t deny after the last two days. Diego had merely shined a light on her limitations. But if he knew what she’d finally admitted to herself—that she couldn’t find Mama and Papa without him—how could he so cruelly deny her?

  The front door opened and Cuddy stepped out. “Mind a little company?”

  Emmy gaped at him. “How did you know I was here?”

  He hooked his thumb toward the house. “We have windows, and you were hard to miss. You shot past the parlor blowing enough steam to boil potatoes.”

  She grimaced. “I could still simmer a couple.”

  He chuckled. “What happened? If you don’t mind my asking.”

  Emmy considered not telling him. Why make it easy for Diego? Let him gaze at Cuddy with steel in his jaw and explain how he’d made all his decisions for him.

  Cuddy angled his head and peered at her. “Why am I certain this has something to do with Diego?”

  Propping her elbows on her knees, she hid her face in her hands. “You’re only half right.” She peeked at him. “I’m just as mad at myself.”

  He reached for her hand. “No one should get mad at you.” He grinned. “Not even you.”

  Swiveling toward him, she groaned. “You won’t be in a joking mood when I tell you what’s about to happen.”

  Suddenly serious, he squeezed her fingers. “Tell me.”

  “In four hours, Diego’s headed for Eagle Pass to find our parents.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “I didn’t think he’d wait that long, but—”

  “We’re not invited.”

  He lifted his brows. “What?”

  “Diego decided I can’t handle the trail, and he thinks you’re needed here.”

  Color flooded Cuddy’s freckled cheeks. He closed his eyes, tightening his fingers around hers. “He decided that, did he?” He scowled. “That’s our Diego. If you’re ever short on opinions, he has one to spare.”

  He faced her and took her other hand. “How tired are you?”

  She took a quick breath. “Me? I’m too wound up to be tired.”

  “How would you like to accompany me to Eagle Pass?”

  “But Diego won’t let—”

  “You said Diego’s leaving in four hours. I can be ready to go in three. How about you?”

  She stared. “Really, Cuddy?”

  He nodded, his eyes twinkling.

  “What about the ranch?”

  He waved off her concern. “Diego trained his men well. They can run the Twisted-R for a few days. Besides”—he sneered—“unlike Diego, I wouldn’t care if the earth opened up and swallowed this place.”

  “And your mother? Shouldn’t you be here with her? Diego said she needed you to take care of her.”

  “She has Greta.” He glanced away. “Besides, the best thing I can do for her right now is find my father.”

  Emmy sighed, excited and afraid at the same time. “I don’t know, Cuddy. Aren’t you exhausted?”

  He rolled his shoulders. “A little sore but not tired. I’ve perfected the art
of sleeping in the saddle.”

  She laughed and gripped his hands. “Are you sure we should do this?”

  He drew back and gave her a sideways look. “Oh, yes. Very sure. Are you in?”

  She leaped to her feet, pulling him with her. Throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed his cheek. “Yes! Oh, Cuddy, this means so much to me.”

  He gave her one more squeeze then set her at arm’s length. “Go get ready, then.”

  She gave him a jaunty salute. “Yes, sir.”

  “Emily?”

  She turned.

  “I’ll meet you right here in three hours with the horses. I’ll have Rosita pack our provisions, but don’t forget to bring plenty of socks.”

  “Plenty of socks.” She grinned. “Good thinking.”

  She threw open the door and hurried into the parlor.

  Rosita, pretending to dust the low table in front of the window, shot her a frosty glare. She’d obviously seen everything—the laughter, the handholding, the kiss—and pinned her own interpretation to each detail.

  So be it, let her think what she would. Emmy had grown tired of trying to sway the woman’s opinion.

  Lifting her chin and adding a little extra strut to her step, Emmy flounced from the room.

  CHAPTER 35

  Diego shot upright on his bunkhouse cot, his mind searching for the source of his heightened unease. Any rest the brief few hours of sleep afforded him slid away as the crushing burden of the last few days shifted onto his shoulders. Swinging his feet to the floor, he kneaded his face like a lump of dough, trying to rub out the need for sleep along with the memory of Emmy’s disappointed eyes.

  He’d made the decision not to take her while they were still in Catarina. Hopefully, one day she’d understand how hard it was for him to deny her, but he had to for her sake. Eagle Pass could be a rowdy town, and something told him the next ride held danger. Perhaps he might’ve used less force in delivering the message, but he’d yet to learn how to sway her determined heart.

  One glance at the shade told him he’d slept too long. The jarring knowledge chasing the last bit of fog from his head, he hurriedly pulled on his boots. Where was Little Pete? He’d sent word by his mother that Pete was to awaken him at three thirty. If the shadowy corners of the bunkhouse meant anything, it was closer to five.

  The door creaked open and Diego reached for his shirt, cross words of rebuke ready on his tongue.

  Instead of Pete, his mother stood on the threshold. She smiled. “I was coming to wake you.”

  “Where’s Pete?”

  She ducked her head. “I never told Pete, Isi. I decided to rouse you myself.”

  Sliding one arm in his sleeve, he paused. “Why?”

  Staring at the floor, she bit her bottom lip. “I wanted you to rest as long as possible.”

  Gritting his teeth, he shoved his other arm in the shirt. “Mother! This was too important for you to interfere.”

  She calmly approached to straighten his collar. “It’s all right, son. While you slept, I had the men make every preparation for the trip. What they couldn’t do, I tended to myself.” She patted his shoulder. “Faron’s waiting in the yard. All you have to do is get on him and ride.”

  Diego wilted in the warmth of her selfless love. He pulled her close for a hug. “Come here, meddling woman.”

  She hugged him back with a shuddering sigh. “I worry, Isi. You’ll be careful?”

  He patted the top of her head. “What need do I have to be careful? I know you’ve spent the last few hours praying for my safety.”

  She turned her face up and grinned. “This is true, so tread lightly. Try not to overturn a treaty between your mother and God.”

  He laughed. “I wouldn’t dare.”

  Outside, his eyes lit on Rosita standing near Faron’s head and the merry mood lifted. She had the fingers of one hand curled on her hip, and a cross scowl hardened her features. The other hand she used to drive home a point to Little Pete with waves and jabs to his chest.

  As Diego approached, Little Pete swatted her finger away. “It’s not my place,” he growled in Spanish. “Tell him yourself. Diego needs to know.”

  “What do I need to know?”

  Rosita jumped and squealed, holding her heart. “Diego! You startled me.”

  He placed his hand on her shoulder. “You have information for me?”

  Guilty eyes told him she wasn’t meant to tell. Her breathless words confirmed it. “Señor Cuddy counts on my silence. But I feel you should know.” She lifted a haughty chin. “Besides, it’s the fault of that girl. If not for the spell of the white-haired witch, Cuddy would never think to go against your decision.”

  Cold dread rushed to Diego’s belly. “What decision?” Even as he asked, he knew. Cuddy would ride up behind him a few yards from the house with Emmy in tow and expect him to relent. Well, he wouldn’t give in so easily this time. Cuddy could do what he blasted well pleased. Emmy would go straight back to the house.

  Diego’s mother slid her arm around Rosita. “Your opinion of Emily may be too harsh, Rosita. I feel responsible.”

  Rosita withdrew. “She’s bewitched you, too?”

  His mother laughed. “Not at all. Perhaps the only dark magic was my unforgiving attitude toward the girl. I should’ve taken the time to know Emily’s heart before I judged her.”

  Diego smiled to himself. He’d have to congratulate Emmy on how skillfully she’d won over his mother.

  Unconvinced, Rosita turned flashing eyes to Diego. “If her heart is pure, why did she offer herself to Cuddy in exchange for taking her to Eagle Pass?”

  His stomach lurched and he felt turned to stone. “What are you saying?”

  “It’s true,” she spat.

  He caught Rosita’s wrist and shook her.

  Fear and pain registered in her eyes. “I watched her throw herself at Cuddy under the front portico, away from prying eyes. I saw everything from the window. The girl knew I caught them, but she felt no shame.” She looked over her shoulder at his mother. “Melatha, I swear it happened. She pranced into the house like a jezebel, flaunting her dishonor in my face.”

  Struggling for a calming breath, Diego released her. “You are mistaken. I don’t know what you saw, but you must have misunderstood.”

  Rubbing her wrist and shaking her head, Rosita stood in silent testimony of Emmy’s betrayal.

  With more calm than he felt inside, Diego slid his boot in the stirrup and swung onto Faron’s back. Bobbing his head, the horse danced impatiently. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever Emmy enticed Cuddy with, her efforts were wasted. She won’t be riding with us to Eagle Pass.”

  Little Pete mounted his horse then cleared his throat. “You are correct, señor. She won’t be riding with us because she and young Cuddy, they already left.”

  Diego’s bulging eyes swung to Rosita. She solemnly nodded. “I packed their provisions myself, Diego. I watched them leave the gate.”

  “How long ago?”

  She shrugged. “A long time. Hours.”

  With the barest nod to his mother, Diego spurred the eager horse into a run for the gate. Little Pete could catch up in El Indio.

  ***

  Melatha stood on the porch of her jacal, clutching the rail and peering past the big house to the east. Fear seeped into her bones as the blanket of black stretching along the horizon grew darker and wider, inching closer to her son with every tick of the clock.

  Isi raced toward the storm on the back of a horse that may have killed John Rawson, his mind on nothing but protecting White Hair.

  “She’s bewitched you, too?” Rosita’s question echoed in Melatha’s mind, and she shivered.

  Steeling her resolve, she fled to the only solid ground. “I have no trust in Emily Dane, Lord. I trust only what You’ve shown me of her heart.”

  From the moment Emily stepped across the threshold two days ago, God began to whisper in Melatha’s ear. His assurance grew louder each time she saw the girl.


  Emily spoke that day of Isi’s love for her. Signs deeper than mere words could convey—her glowing eyes and trembling smile, the way she spoke his name—told Melatha she loved Isi, too.

  These things alone did not sway Melatha or melt her stony heart. Only when Emily began to speak of the Father did the spiritual bond they shared come to light. The passion Melatha sensed while Emily spoke of Isi was but a flickering ember in comparison.

  A brisk wind stirred the high grass and rattled the empty baskets in the corner. Melatha lifted her chin to the cool breeze and swallowed her fear. She determined to trust Chihowa Palami in all matters pertaining to Isi and White Hair, no matter how threatening the storm.

  ***

  Emmy watched the churning wall of clouds on the horizon, more menacing by far than the patchy canopy overhead. They’d been grateful since they left the ranch for the overcast sky that blocked the sun, and the cool, brisk wind coming off the approaching storm caught Emmy’s breath.

  The closer the wall advanced, the more dangerous it appeared. A gust caught her whispered prayer for safety and carried it away, she hoped, toward heaven. She thanked God that for the last few miles, the angry swirl had seemed stagnant, a faraway puffed-up bully, blowing hard but harmless.

  She turned her attention to Cuddy. Obviously deep in thought, he rode quietly, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance.

  “It’s getting dark,” Emmy said, and he jumped. She laughed. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  He shrugged and grinned. “I’m afraid it’ll be very gloomy tonight with the weather so foul. Makes it better on the horses, though. Cooler.” He rolled his head to study the twilight sky. “New moon, too. If you don’t like the dark, you’ll be glad to see El Indio.”

  She shuddered, but he didn’t seem to notice. Before long, he’d retreated into his thoughts again. Ducking her head, she peered closer. “You know what they say? A penny for your thoughts?”

  He shot her a sideways glance. “There’s not a thought in my head worth that much.”

  She gave him a mock frown. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you.”

  He raised his brows. “Oh, it’s true.”