A huge nod and the boy pointed to his pants, his little legs clad in denim. “Lee-vi.”
“What was that?” Tanner hunched to hear the boy’s answer, feeling the exhale of breath against his ear as the boy repeated the name.
“Lee-vigh.”
He chuckled and stroked his hand over the boy’s hair, a sense of protectiveness gripping him hard. How had the boy wandered so far, and where had he come from? He’d not had much to do with the ranch where he was headed, tucked as it was between two steep hills. He’d heard rumors of a man and woman running it and wondered if the child might have come from that direction. . .or maybe he’d wandered from the campfire.
When they got to the stream, he picked the boy up in his arms and stepped across the water, setting Levi back down on the other side. He took a minute to swipe the mud from his boots. Levi remained silent and still next to him, except for those big, dark-brown eyes that followed his every move as if the child feared he might disappear.
“Mommy’s praying,” Levi claimed as Tanner took the boy’s hand again.
“She is, huh?”
The head bobbed, and Tanner didn’t feel any need to discount the boy’s pronouncement.
He unlatched the leather laces that held the oilskin-wrapped blanket behind his saddle, draped the blanket over the boy’s shoulders, and put him in the saddle. At least Levi showed no fear of the horse; that would have created a terrible problem. Tanner pulled the reins back and over the gelding’s head and joined Levi in the saddle. He hunched himself around the boy to provide more warmth. Whatever fears had plagued the tyke earlier must have washed away, for within minutes Levi’s head slumped back against him.
three
Maira woke with a start, noticed the fire waning, and staggered upward to place another block of wood across it. She chided herself for nodding off. If she let the fire go out. . . What if Levi had wandered close and she’d missed him? Bile burned her throat. She stooped to collect a good-sized branch and tried to bend and break it. She threw it down in frustration. She gulped, irritated at the delay. God, where is Levi? Lord, please, please, keep him safe. For me.
She spun away and swatted the fresh tears coursing down her cheeks. Air caught in her throat when she saw a shadow move in her periphery. She jerked that direction. Cold dread suffused her body. Straining to see through the darkness, she edged closer to the fire’s protection. Even as she became aware of her proximity to the heat, she monitored the place where she’d seen the shadow. Another sound. Low. A shuffling of sorts, and her hand went to her throat. Queen, standing three-legged, radiated equine unconcern. If the horse heard anything amiss, her ears would prick. But the horse was old and maybe hard of hearing. Maira moved toward the mare and unsheathed her Winchester. With quick fingers, she found the ammunition and loaded the rifle, her heartbeat picking up, aware of her vulnerability should anyone or anything leap into camp. The anxiety made her fingers stiff, and she dropped the last bullet before she could shove it into place behind the others. Turning, her eyes roved behind her, her anxiety gentling somewhat as she cocked the rifle and held it close.
Nothing moved.
“Levi?” She so wanted him to pop into the ring of firelight. To see his brown eyes and the patch of hair that never lay right. Her throat closed. “Levi, is that you, honey?” she croaked, swallowing against the swell of tears.
Another shuffling sound. Less than the wind through tall grasses, yet something. Almost a sigh. She took a step forward and raised the rifle to her shoulder, keeping her finger out of the trigger guard to avoid an accident. She had to know what was causing the sound.
Queen buzzed her lips, and Maira’s heart slammed hard. If the horse was alerted. . . But Queen’s posture told Maira the mare was more bored than anything, probably wondering what had her owner so excited.
Maira blinked; a silent shift of the atmosphere tickled at her. Whatever had changed in that moment when she’d glanced at Queen. . . Straight ahead, she saw it. The dark shadow, arms extended. A big person.
“Come out here so I can see you, or I’ll shoot you dead.”
When the shape didn’t move, Maira realized what had changed. She relaxed her finger on the trigger, the knots in her muscles easing away. In the changing light from the rising sun, she mistook a stump for a man. It made her laugh, but the sound was strained. Her legs gave way, and she slumped to the ground. Equal portions of relief and despair warred within her. She laid the rifle across her lap and cradled her head, feeling lost and more alone than she’d felt since Jon’s death. Emptiness swelled; and a dark void threatened to swallow her whole. She needed Levi. It was the only part of Jon she had, surely the Good Lord wouldn’t take him, too. Her fist pressed against her lips to squelch a sob. She forced herself to take deep breaths, to focus. She could not afford to sit and give in to defeat. If Levi was out there, she would find him. She would not leave him alone as Jon had been alone in his dying moments.
❧
Breaking up his small, fireless camp, where he’d stopped to give the boy a chance to eat and sleep, Tanner helped a groggy Levi into the saddle then slid up behind him. The campfire in the distance had dwindled over the last couple of hours, evidenced by the ever-thinner curl of smoke in the air. He started that direction again, hoping to catch the men off-guard and in the middle of a deep sleep. At the base of the hill Tanner dismounted and touched the boy’s thigh, indicating he should also dismount. He steadied the boy’s descent and held Levi’s shoulders, hunkering down to come level with the boy’s dark eyes.
“You leaving me?” Levi whispered, a tremble in his voice.
“I’m going right over there to that hilltop. There’s a fire been burning on the other side, and I aim to see who’s sitting around it.” Levi listened with solemnity. Tanner put steel into his voice. “Stay right here, you hear?”
He looked so small to Tanner. Like a little man trying to be so brave and failing miserably. The quivering lip gave it away. He could imagine that the hilltop he’d indicated must seem like a long way away for one so small. Tanner released a sigh as he shifted his attention to the horizon. Tinges of pink were lighting the sky, wrestling back the black of night, and that’s when he heard something. Someone talking or yelling. A strange voice. Soft. Tanner decided he could risk getting closer; if he stayed within eyesight of Levi, maybe that would assuage the boy’s fears.
He put his hand on Levi’s head. “Let’s get you back up in that saddle. We’ll ride closer.”
Tanner dared only take Cupid within a hundred feet of the hilltop. He risked the boy even this close and debated simply riding on, but if there was danger hunting him, he needed the advantage. He touched Levi’s head, pointed to the rise, and put a finger to his lips. At least the boy didn’t look nearly as uncertain about him walking away. Relieved, he patted the boy’s head. Large brown eyes made him swallow hard. He crept toward the top of the hill, stopped before he reached the crest, and turned to wave at Levi. The boy stood stoic but gave a little wave in return. As he edged near the top of the hill, he turned his mind to his surroundings. Any movement could mean a guard posted to keep watch.
Tanner got down on his belly and crawled. His elbows dug into the soft, cold ground, morning dew soaking his shirt, clammy against his skin. He raised his head to see down into the camp. The fire was indeed low, and a lone figure sat balled next to the dying flames. Tanner pulled his body forward and squinted harder. The body didn’t move, and he wondered if the person was hurt. A horse stood three-legged, unconcerned of the person’s distress. That the person might have fallen asleep sitting up wouldn’t surprise him, but what did surprise him dawned in slow degrees as the sun stretched over the horizon, its rays bringing illumination to the form. Dark hair, the slender back. Even as he watched, the woman stirred, revealing a rifle across her lap. Tanner ducked lower.
“Levi!” He heard her stress in those two syllables. He dared to raise his head. She’d come to her feet, her face lifted to the east. A sleeve to
her face yanked a smile. Like mother, like son. He stayed still for a moment longer, dividing his attention between her movements and the surrounding area. Satisfied that no one other than the woman was present, Tanner rose to his feet and ran back to Levi.
“Did you hear that? That was your momma.”
“Mommy?” He picked the boy up in his arms and felt the child’s breath against his neck; his chubby hands against his cheeks demanded Tanner’s attention. “My mommy.” It was a statement.
“Your mommy. We’re going to see her.”
Levi’s head bobbed, and his whole body bounced in Tanner’s arms. “Hold still.”
Levi stilled, and his arms slipped around Tanner’s neck, head resting against his shoulder. Tanner swallowed hard and spread his hand against the boy’s back as his long strides took him to the top again. The woman was kicking dirt on the fire, the rifle a few feet away from her.
“Missing someone?” He hollered down.
She jumped and spun.
Tanner was already heading down the hill. Levi lifted his face from his shoulder and bounced in his arms. “Mommy! Mommy!”
The woman’s face transformed from fear to hope and joy. She spread her arms and met them at the base of the hill. Levi practically jumped from his arms to hers, her hand holding his head tight against her shoulder. Tanner felt the woman’s relief like a physical caress. Strands of her dark hair tangled around a delicate, heart-shaped face. Remnants of her long night were visible in the dirty track on her right cheek and the grip she had on Levi.
When she opened her eyes, pools of emotion sparkled in their luminous green depths. “How can I thank you?”
Tanner opened his mouth but could think of nothing to say.
“Where was he?” She peeled Levi from her embrace, her relief bleeding into concern as her hands explored the boy’s fragile frame for injury.
“Little hollow by a stream, curled into a ball. I made sure he was fine first thing. Cold, maybe, but the blanket and grub helped warm him up.”
She brought the boy in close for another hug, and Tanner Young’s past rose like a hibernating bear searching for a meal. Caught in a rush of regret and remorse, he spun on his heel, the voice of another little boy in another time stabbing at his mind.
“Please, come to the ranch for a meal.” Her words stopped him cold. “It’s the least I can do.”
He didn’t turn. “I don’t need thanks, ma’am.”
“Do you know what this means to me? I thought he was dead or. . .” Her voice caught. “Please.”
Her words sucked at him. If he didn’t escape soon, he would be drawn into a boiling cauldron of memories that would leave him mentally writhing. He couldn’t bear that burden again. “Take care of your son,” he bit out.
four
Maira traced the path the man took up the hill with her eyes. Levi’s arms loosened their grip around her neck somewhat, and she tucked her chin to glimpse the sleepy face cradled in the crook of her neck. The slow sweep of long lashes against his cheek told Maira all she needed to know.
Home. With Levi in her arms the word felt sweet again, nothing like the hollow grief before the man had brought her son to her. She breathed deep of Levi’s little-boy smell and whispered in his ear how much she loved him.
“We need to get home. Frank will want to know you’ve been found.”
Levi’s head bobbled a fraction. She set him astride Queen and surveyed the camp. Her firelight of hope had been extinguished, smothered beneath the layer of dirt she’d kicked on top of the weak flames, but it had worked. Thank You, Lord. She nestled close to Levi and gave Queen her heels. Within a few hundred yards, she could easily see the man who had rescued her son, heading west just as she was. If not for Levi’s limp form in her arms and the fear of him falling, she would have trotted up to introduce herself and at least learn his name. After a while, she forgot him altogether, as the lull of motion cast its spell and her eyes, too, became heavy. Remembering where she was and what she was doing jostled her awake, and she straightened in the saddle. She noted the man in front of her, his horse a beautiful piebald with bold black spots. He must know she was behind him, but he never turned.
If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought him headed to their small ranch. But within the last half hour, where the steep hill ended and her ranch spread out, he swung his horse north. She ached to call to him and express, again, her thanks. She remained silent instead. In the circle of her arms, Levi stirred a bit, and she swapped the reins from her right to her left to relieve the ache of supporting Levi’s limp weight. The warmth of the little body close to hers put her at war with her own weariness.
Queen finally rode in, and the haze of Maira’s exhaustion lifted somewhat. Frank was there at her side, touching her leg, accepting the weight of the boy into his arms, exclaiming over Levi as she knew he would. He’d taken to the boy like the grandpa he should have been.
“I’ll take Queen for ya. You take the boy inside and get that much-needed rest. I’m guessin’ the details can wait some longer.”
Maira smiled her gratitude. Levi looked ready to drop in the dirt. She leaned to pick him up, savoring again the feel of his little arms around her neck. Would she ever tire of the feeling? It reminded her of the time when he was only nine months and his sickness spiked a fever. She’d panicked over him then, praying for mercy, afraid that she might lose him as she’d lost Jon. Frank had encouraged her to get some house help, but she’d known as much as he that she could not afford it.
Maira divested Levi of his clothes and slipped his nightshirt over his head. She tucked him into her bed then slipped from her dirty, wrinkled skirt and blouse and put on a fresh nightgown. Being ready for bed would help her sleep sounder. As soon as she lay down, Levi backed his little body up against her. She should put him in his own room but couldn’t deny herself the precious sweetness of his presence and drew him close, a knot of emotion forcing a fresh wave of tears from her eyes.
❧
Cupid quivered beneath Tanner, restless to either get moving or bed down for the night, he guessed. The horse wasn’t used to late-night rides. Or early morning, for that matter. He leaned forward to rest his weight against the pommel, squinting down at the sight before him. An older man walked out to the stable guiding the horse of the woman whose son he’d rescued. Tanner had arrived from the opposite direction to appear as if he hadn’t just come from the XP. He’d secluded himself in time to witness the old man pluck the little boy from the saddle and hug him close. A touching scene. But he wondered where the woman’s husband was and why he hadn’t gone after the boy. The old man might be excused from consideration based solely on age and the twisted limp in his right leg. If the owner was down in the pastures or away on business, it explained the absence of a younger man, but gut feeling told Tanner what he was seeing was the truth.
“Well, Cue, guess there’s no use me sitting here guessing.” He nudged the horse forward and out of the evergreens he’d used as a shield. The old man came from the stable. He raised his hand in welcome.
“Light and sit.”
Tanner reined in Cue and relaxed his hands against the saddle horn. “Looking for some work.”
“Not hiring.”
Tanner inhaled slow, letting the rush of air expand his lungs and buy him time. He nodded toward the fields behind the squatting ranch house. “What kind of ranch is this?”
“They run sheep and a few head. Name’s Frank.”
Tanner leaned to accept the man’s calloused palm against his own, surprised by the strength of that grip. “Tanner. Tanner Young. Owner around?”
He could see Frank’s jaw clench in vexation. Apparently he did not like being so quickly dismissed. “I speak for the boss.”
Tanner turned his gaze to the buildings. Roof shingles had blown off, and the doors to the stable sagged. The ranch house showed a broken window, and the bunkhouse listed to the right. Walt had been right in that the ranch would probably welcome extr
a help. He shifted in the saddle, communicating his intent to dismount. Frank gave him some room. The man’s hair was more gray than dark; his beard covered his lower face. He let the silence grow long. Frank didn’t flinch, cautious. Tanner could feel the steel of the spine that held the man upright.
“I’ll work for food.” Frank’s scrutiny told him the man did not trust the offer, probably too good to be true. And it would have been if not for one thing. “I was the one who found the boy. She invited me for a meal. By the looks of things, she could use some help.”
Frank’s expression softened. “You found Levi?”
For a split second, Tanner hated himself for using the incident to secure the man’s approval, but he could think of no other way. “I did.”
“It’s a generous offer.” Frank chewed his lower lip and stared at the ranch house for a full minute of silence. “Reckon Maira won’t mind feeding an extra mouth for the help.”
“Should I meet her husband?”
Frank’s eyes flicked from the fields at his back to his face. “He’s not here.” He wheeled, motioning Tanner to follow.
Tanner ran his tongue over the corners of his mouth then bracketed his fingers on either side to smooth the mustache. He had two ears and one mouth for good reason. Whatever the story with the husband, at least the woman had found her son. Frank showed him some tools in the barn. Feeling the need to get started fixing things up, Tanner chose the sagging gate as his first project.
“Pull up on that rope,” he directed Frank after twenty minutes of analyzing the problem then putting his solution into practice. Frank took up the slack of the rope, and Tanner adjusted the counterbalance until the gate swung without dragging. He finished the project with a daub of thick grease on the hinge. “Good as new.”
Valley of the Heart Page 2