The worst part was the waiting, the wondering what was happening.
She stood and walked to the window overlooking the back patio which abutted the hill she’d climbed her first day. She closed her eyes and remembered how utterly lovely it was to run down that hill, carefree and joyful, and explore the secrets of the forest. How wonderfully surprising it was to find that fork in the path and follow it to the clearing with the downed tree and perfectly positioned tree stump. How shocking it was to turn and see a man standing there, a man who immediately rooted himself into her soul—with a single look. How life altering it was to stare up into that man’s face after he saved her life. And it wasn’t life altering just because he saved her life, but also because he stole her heart. She hadn’t known it then, couldn’t even fathom the possibility of it, but now she knew without a shadow of a doubt. He’d become her heartsong even before she knew his name.
As she watched, the last of the sunlight dipped behind the hill, leaving the area draped in longer and longer shadows. No one had been out to light the lanterns yet, so it was dim everywhere she looked. But that didn’t matter…the clearing beyond the hill called to her. The tree stump where she and Mac had sat and talked into the night called to her. The peace and warmth of those lost moments called to her. But she couldn’t go, not now when everything she loved was on a razor’s edge between life and death.
Sighing, she turned from the window and adjusted her skirt, kicking at it in frustration as it clung to her stockings. Lord, how she hated stockings. What she wouldn’t give to pull off her boots and let her feet breathe a little. She giggled. That was something Bernie would whine at her about. “Ladies shouldn’t go about barefoot. Muddy toes are unbecoming…” She could hear Bernie’s voice in her head and, for a moment, she was comforted.
What sounded like a stampede began in the hall outside of the sitting room. Startled and suddenly anxious, Rhetta flew from the room and stopped dead in the foyer. Mac was walking through the door, hair mussed, clothes torn and bloody, and carrying a weeping Bernie in his arms.
Relieved to see them both alive, Rhetta ran to them. She pressed her hand against Bernie’s face. “Bernie! Thank God! You’re safe, you’re home!” She was blubbering, a new batch of tears falling from her eyes. Bernie continued to cry, but she turned to look at Rhetta, who saw a remnant of terror there.
Aunt Melda appeared and cried out, coming to stand beside Mac. “Take her upstairs, third door down the right corridor. I will send for Doc Rawlins.” Mac, not sparing a glance at Rhetta, turned and ascended the stairs. Stunned at Mac’s utter disregard for her, it took her a moment to start to follow, but she reached Bernie’s room just as Mac kicked open the door. She watched as he walked into the room, easily carrying her still wailing sister, and laid her on the bed—as gently as he’d done for Rhetta the day she’d come home with news of Bernie’s abduction.
Once in her bed, Bernie’s cries lessened, and she looked up into Mac’s face, offering him a slight, watery smile. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be fine now.” She reached up and Mac took her hand in his, and everything in Rhetta’s mind stopped turning. They looked…like they belonged together. Bernie was looking up at Mac with adoration, and Mac was looking down at Bernie with a depth of concern only someone in love could possibly convey.
“You’re welcome, Bernadette,” Mac replied, his voice a soft, low murmur. Rhetta only caught what he said because she was straining to hear it.
She held her breath. She felt like an outsider in their moment. Before she could duck out of the room, Mac tucked Bernie’s hand into the blankets at her side, gave her a slight nod, then turned to—finally—look at Rhetta. His eyes were hard, empty, like two uncut sapphires set into his sockets. She took a step toward him but stopped. He walked forward, around Rhetta, and stopped just inside the door.
Now that Bernie wasn’t clutched against his chest, Rhetta could see where the blood had come from.
“You’ve been shot!” she cried, running to him. She didn’t even think, only knew she had to see if he was all right. She ran her hands over his chest, trying to pull his shirt away to see beneath it. He grabbed her hands and pinned them in place over his heart.
She gasped and gazed up to see his face set into a grimace. “Leave it be, Rhetta. See to your sister.”
“But, you’re shot—”
He grunted, squeezing her hands and then pulling them away to drop them like a pair of old shoes. “Your sister needs you. I will wait to see Doc Rawlins when he arrives. I will be fine.”
Speechless, she watched Mac walk away.
By the time she’d turned to see to Bernie, Bernie had fallen into an exhausted sleep. So much for her meal and bath, she laughed. Bernie had been sleeping for well over five hours, and she probably wouldn’t wake for another day—given how wretched she looked. Rhetta doubted a man like Cassius would have bothered giving Bernie food or water—and Lord knows how badly he treated her besides. Rhetta knew Bernie was lucky to be alive, and that Bernie was tougher than she’d given her sister credit for.
As the hours passed, she’d settled herself into the chair beside the bed, tucking the uneven strands of Bernie’s hair behind her ear. Even in sleep, with streaks of dirt in her chopped hair, Bernie was a lovely woman. Her cheeks were still red from crying and that made Rhetta want to wring her own neck with guilt. Her sister had been abducted, held hostage, and rescued…and all she could focus on was the man who’d done the rescuing.
Phyllis and Brigette had come together to glance down at the slumbering Bernie. They spoke to each other in whispers, offered to bring Rhetta whatever she needed, then left, not waiting for Rhetta to tell them if she needed anything.
She shrugged. She didn’t expect much from those two.
Thankfully, JoJo had come up to bring Rhetta some water, and a bit of cheese and an apple. She said that Timmy had chosen to take Cassius into town to wait for Sheriff Temogen and Marshal Gregson, and that he’d be home as soon as he could—at least, that’s what Mac had told her right before he’d been patched up by the doctor and sent to rest in his bunk. Once JoJo left, Rhetta leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, letting her mind try to sift through all the thoughts and emotions the last three days had dug up and thrown at her.
After an hour of confusion, frustration, anxiety, and unwelcome jealousy, she banished all thoughts of Mac from her mind…at least she tried.
She didn’t know she’d fallen asleep until someone coughed, wrenching her from her black, happily dreamless sleep. She blinked and sat up, staring over the bed to find Bernie sitting up and staring right back, a teasing smile on her face.
“It looks to me like you need the sleep more than I did,” Bernie said, her eyes glimmering with mirth. Rhetta shot out of her seat and threw herself across Bernie, gathering her sister into her arms. She laughed and cried into her sister’s neck. “Oh, Bernie, was I so worried about you. When they took you and they asked for that outrageous sum of money, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to get you back.”
Giving her sister a squeeze, Bernie pulled away and laid back on her pillows.
“Honestly, I’d given up hope of being found,” Bernie confessed, her lips trembling.
“Oh, Bernie. Can you tell me…what happened?” Rhetta knew she was asking a lot of her sister, but she wanted to know.
Bernie closed her eyes, as if pulling herself together. When she opened her eyes again, her gaze was far off. “When those men took me, I was terrified. I didn’t know if they were going to kill me, v-v-violate me,” she shuddered, “or torture me. Or all three.”
Rhetta sat up and curled her feet beneath her on the bed. This is what she missed…this type of moment with her sister. It was too bad it took an abduction to bring them back together again.
Chapter 15
“Where did they take you?” Rhetta asked, forcing her heart to stop pounding at the terrible images her mind conjured.
“They dragged me along with them for what felt l
ike miles, and then we came to this camp under a large overhanging rock.”
“That’s where Brandt said you would be,” Rhetta supplied.
Bernie cringed. “Don’t say his name ever again! Neither of those animals deserve their names spoken from our lips.
Rhetta nodded. “Never again, Bernie.”
Appeased, Bernie continued. “Thankfully, they left me alone. They didn’t feed me or give me water, but I wouldn’t have touched whatever they gave me anyway. They were filthy, disgusting dogs. Even their camp was disgusting. It smelled of waste and sweat and smoke, and I could barely breathe. I prayed continually that someone would find me and save me from them. But when the first day passed, and the ugly one sent the smelly one into town with my hair—they cut my hair, Rhetta!” Bernie sobbed, reaching up to grasp at the ends of her uneven hair. “And look, it’s dirty—I’m dirty!”
“I can ring the bell for a bath,” Rhetta said, jumping to do just that. Once the maid came and left, Rhetta sat back on the bed. “Now…tell me about the rescue.” She wanted to know how her sister was rescued but, more than anything, she wanted to know how Mac got shot.
Bernie’s face flamed red—in anger or humiliation, Rhetta couldn’t tell. “The ugly one had just finished the last of his flask and he threw it in the fire. He was ranting and rambling about how the smelly one hadn’t met us in the clearing when he was supposed to. Said he’d probably gone into town to get drunk. I didn’t care where he went as long as he never came back.”
Rhetta leaned forward, suddenly agitated. “He did go into town, and then the sheriff and that marshal arrested him. They brought him here. Mac and Sheriff Temogen got him to tell us where you were. That’s how Mac and Timmy knew where to find you.” Remembering that confrontation with Brandt made her stomach roll. She’d just come from a wonderful time with Mac, her heart floating on air, but it crashed to earth when she came face to face with the man who’d taken Bernie.
“It was awful, Bernie. I knew it was him, but he tried to lie about it. And then…then he told us about the package he was supposed to deliver.”
Bernie paled. “My hair. I can remember how he came toward me with that knife…I thought he was going to slit my throat. I was both relieved and horrified when he cut my hair with it.”
“He said that if we didn’t produce the money he’d start sending pieces that bled,” Rhetta choked out the words, leaning forward to take Bernie’s hands. Her sister was safe, she was whole. She pushed the worry from her heart and focused on the hope…hope that she and her sister could be…sisters again.
“Well, I’m just glad it never came to that.”
“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” Rhetta began. “Why did…the ugly one…ask for so much money? There’s no way a sane person would think we could get ten thousand dollars in three days.”
Bernie narrowed her eyes, her face hardening. “The man was mad. When the smelly one left, the ugly one kept mumbling to himself about using the money to buy an island somewhere. An island, Rhetta. Think of it! He was obviously out to dry in a chilly wind.”
Rhetta couldn’t help it, she chuckled. After a moment, Bernie laughed, too. And before she knew it, they were chuckling into each other’s chests. Dabbing at her eyes with her sleeves, Rhetta pulled away. “It feels so good to laugh again, Bernie. I…missed you.”
Bernie seemed to sober immediately, her expression softening. “Rhetta, I know I haven’t been the sister I should have been…”
Rhetta waved the words away. “Don’t worry about that now. You get up, get ready for that bath, and I’ll go see about getting you some food.” Smiling, Rhetta stood and helped Bernie from the bed. A knock on the door signaled the arrival of the large brass tub and the train of maids carrying buckets of steaming water. Once the room was empty again, Rhetta helped Bernie to disrobe and slide, slowly, into the bath water.
With an exaggerated moan, Bernie laid her head against the back of the tub—a bigger one than they were used to using at home in Dry Bayou—and closed her eyes.
Minutes ticked by in silence as Rhetta picked up Bernie’s discarded clothes and tried to figure out what to do with them. Tattered, grime-covered, and smelly, she decided the only place for the once-lovely dress and underthings was the rubbish bin. Throwing the clothes into a pile by the door, Rhetta rubbed at her eyes. She hadn’t gotten much sleep since arriving in Morgan’s Crossing, and she didn’t expect that to change—not with her mind refusing to leave Mac alone.
Even now, when her sister needed her, she couldn’t stop her thoughts from drifting to Mac. Was his wound all right? Had he eaten? Was he getting rest? Was he thinking about her…or about Bernie? That thought made her throat close up tight.
“Rhetta, come over here and sit, I haven’t told you the best part…the rescue.” Bernie waved Rhetta over, indicating the stool beside the tub. Rhetta sighed and did as bid, only somewhat curious about what Bernie considered “best”. Mac getting shot can’t be the best of anything, she thought.
“He was magnificent,” Bernie whispered, her voice brimming with awe. Rhetta didn’t need to know who she was talking about.
Mac…
“I was huddled there, in the back corner of the little cut out under the overhang, thinking I was going to die without getting to see my family one last time, and then…” Bernie’s eyes filled with a look of adoration so bright, Rhetta felt the heat of it make the little bit of cheese she’d eaten earlier curdle in her stomach. “He walked up the path toward us, his hands raised in the air. He just strode toward the ugly one, not a glint of fear or a moment’s hesitation. He looked at me, with those amazing blue eyes of his, and I knew he was going to risk his life to save mine—oh, Rhetta, it was so amazing to watch him stare that man down. He said, ‘I’ve come to negotiate,’ and that set the ugly one off. He grabbed his gun and pointed it right at Mac’s chest, but Mac didn’t flinch, he just kept right on coming.” Bernie clasped her hands against her own chest, her skin turning a rosy pink. “Oh, Rhetta…he was so dashing. I couldn’t take my eyes from him.”
Rhetta knew the feeling, and that thought made everything inside her turn to ash. Her sister was attracted to Mac—it wasn’t hard to see why. The man was a walking, talking daydream, one she was a fool to think she could keep to herself.
She cleared her throat. “What happened next?”
Bernie shook her head, as if Rhetta’s question jarred her from her thoughts of Mac. “Oh, well…while Mac was distracting the ugly one, Timmy was sneaking up from the other patch of long grass, just behind us. As Mac was slowly talking the ugly one down from shooting him in the face—his voice is like honey butter, isn’t it? So smooth, rich…deep…it does something to me…I don’t know what. But I like it.” Bernie visibly trembled and Rhetta fought the urge to do the same.
Sucking in a breath, Rhetta couldn’t stop herself from remembering a moment in time when Mac’s voice did the same to her… “I can’t stop thinking about you, Rhetta,” he admitted to her, staring down into her eyes in the caress of the moonlight. Yes, Mac had a voice she could drown in but, apparently, he had stopped thinking about her. Probably haven’t even thought of her since seeing Bernie again.
And it hurt as nothing before had.
“Timmy had almost gotten to me to untie me when he kicked the ugly one’s discarded flask, which made the ugly one turn and see him standing there. He screamed and turned to point the gun at Timmy, but Mac…” she sat up straight in the tub and looked at Rhetta with wide, excited eyes. “Mac rushed to him, grabbed the gun, and they started to fight over it. But the ugly one was no match for Mac’s strength. Mac wrestled the gun from the man’s hand, but not before getting shot in the shoulder. But that didn’t even stop him, Rhetta!” In her excitement, Bernie was spilling tub water all over the floor. “He forced that man onto the ground and tied him up with the same ropes he used to tie me up with. Then…he picked me up and carried me to his horse. The rest, you know.” Bernie finished with a shrug bu
t Rhetta wasn’t fooled by her sister’s forced nonchalance. Bernie was more than impressed with Mac, she was downright head over heels with the man.
And Rhetta couldn’t stop the ache in her chest from pressing deeper into her heart.
Chapter 16
Four days. It had been four days since he brought Bernadette back. Four days since he had a moment alone with Rhetta. Four of the worst days of his life.
Mac rubbed at the bandage on his shoulder. It itched, ached, and bled a little, but otherwise he was fine. He stood and grabbed a shirt from the pile of clean clothes Bernadette had brought him the day before. Bernadette…she’d been a well-meaning thorn in his side since the morning after her rescue. Morning and night, she followed him around while he attempted to get back to work, pestering him with questions about himself, his work, what he wanted to do in the future. He wanted to stop her, to tell her that she was digging in the wrong field, but he didn’t have the heart to break hers. She was obviously smitten with the idea of her hero, but Mac wasn’t the hero—at least, he wasn’t the only one. Timothy was as much responsible for Bernadette’s rescue as he was, he just hadn’t gotten wounded like Mac had, which was a blessing to JoJo and their children.
Gingerly, he pulled the shirt on over the bandage and buttoned it up. He felt odd…wearing a shirt Bernadette had brought him, but he didn’t have many options. The woman had commandeered his wash when he was out wrangling cows—and he’d been downright embarrassed when he realized she’d even washed his drawers. The heat of another blush warmed his cheeks. Heavens but he had to do something about Bernadette, or else he wouldn’t have a private thing left to him.
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