Valley of the Heart

by Moore, S. Dionne

  Tanner swallowed hard. “You can stay here.”

  He waited for the boy’s eyes to shut before securing Levi’s position against him.

  For an hour he wrestled with himself. Deep down inside, Tanner knew he couldn’t risk staying. He handed Levi over to Ana and watched as she took him into the spare bedroom. Maira’s closed bedroom door gave him pause. He could say good-bye. It was the least he could do, but dangerous to his determination. Even as his boots crunched across the front yard toward the barn, he picked up his pace. He’d never admitted to Maira why he’d left the first time, and he wouldn’t this time either. He needn’t answer to anybody. He disappeared into the shadows of the barn. Cue nickered a welcome as he passed and went to the room built into the back. He opened the door and was met with the scowling face of Carrot. He shut the door again, anger surging at all the grief the man had brought on Maira and the Rocking J. But he was done.

  He had to cut the tie to the Rocking J, and fast. He remembered the hopelessness of watching his father die in his mother’s arms. How he had wanted to stop the bleeding, to keep his Pa forever. The line between his father’s death and his own bleeding emotions smeared. Maira was coming into the barn, slow, clutching her side. He could hear the whisper of her feet and the soft movement of her skirts. God help him, he could smell her. A light scent of spring grass and wildflowers.

  “Tanner? Are you. . . ?”

  “Got to leave.”

  “Why?”

  “Nothing more to do. Things should go better for the J now. If I don’t miss my guess, Ana and Slim will stay here and help out, at least for a while.”

  “And then?”

  He didn’t want to face her, to give in to the pressure of her hand on his arm. “You’ll figure something out.”

  “I love you, Tanner. Is that what you’re scared of?”

  He closed his eyes and drew air into his lungs. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  Her hand on his arm, the challenge in her words. She loved him. It matched that moment when, sitting at the table, he’d seen Maira whisper to Levi, their heads so close together and their affection so apparent. A crest of emotion had gripped him at the sight of mother and child. Two people he had come to care for more than any others. He couldn’t stay and risk it all. It hurt too much.

  “Jon told me you left home.”

  The way she said it, her head tilted at an angle, her expression earnest, her eyes knowing.

  “He said your mother never forgave your stepfather for driving you away.”

  Tanner couldn’t face her. He ground his teeth, trying to distance himself from the memory.

  “When your stepfather left, she lost the ranch. Jon went out on his own in hopes of making enough to help them, but he couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried.”

  His chest rattled with pent-up emotion. “If I’d stayed, I could have helped.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” he ground out.

  “What happened isn’t your fault.”

  “I could have helped.” He faced her then. “I’m partly to blame for it all.”

  Her green eyes searched his. “Talk to me, Tanner. Don’t leave until we’ve talked. You promised me that once.”

  Cue whinnied, as if reminding him of his original intention. Maira raised her hand to his cheek. Her fingers grazed lightly along his jaw. “I don’t know how it was that I didn’t see the resemblance sooner.”

  “We don’t look alike.”

  “The eyes. They’re Levi’s eyes if not Jon’s. You must have taken after your mother.”

  She cupped the side of his face, and he leaned into the warmth of her smooth palm. She was killing him. Those eyes. Her touch. The pleading of her heart. Even the small talk, easing him off the cliff of his own emotional turmoil. “Jon resembled his daddy,” was all he could manage.

  Her lips curved upward and her hand fell away, stroking down his arm until she held his hand. She turned, steps sure, and he followed her to the bales of hay. He waited for her to sit, heard the little gasp of pain that parted her lips. “Maira. . .”

  She patted the bale next to her. “My pain will heal.”

  His had festered.

  “When Jon died, I was so alone.” She looked at him, a penetrating, serious stare. “I’d been alone most of my life. My parents left me at the orphanage when I was little. One day. . .”She lifted her face to stare at the ceiling. He could hear the tears in her voice, and though he knew the story, he didn’t stop her, wanting to hear it from her lips. “One day a couple came and took me home with them. They said they wanted to adopt me, but I wasn’t enough for them. I never worked fast enough or hard enough. They took me back after a few months.”

  He didn’t know what to say.

  She sent him a tremulous smile. “I was so angry. I became the ‘problem child,’ the one hard to place, and I didn’t ever want to be placed again. I wanted nothing more than to be left alone, but being alone meant enduring a very different type of pain.” She rubbed at her side. “When you left, I felt that way all over again. Abandoned. Hated.”

  “I don’t hate you.”

  Her grin was cheeky. “I know you don’t.” She glanced away, growing serious again. “Jon didn’t get back in time to help your mother either, and for a long time he blamed himself.”

  She was offering him an opening. In the silence, he weighed his choice to take it or to ride away and, for once, he didn’t want to leave. Not now. “I went back years later. The house had been burned down. The neighbor told me my mother had lived at her house for a year with no money and no food. They’d done their best to help her. They said. . .” He choked, pausing to regain his composure. “They said they had to go get her. That she was starving by that time and very weak.”

  “I wandered for a long time after that. Picked up some work when I joined a posse, and the deputy discovered my skills at tracking. We stumbled upon a group of Indians. One woman in their midst. The man I was with pulled his gun and started blasting away.” He remembered it so well. There’d been sightings of Indians, but the posse had been gathered to trace the escape of rustlers. They’d been out for blood though, and he’d known it. Even as they’d ridden up to the Indians, the man in charge had wanted an excuse to fire his gun. He’d felt the man’s need. Heard it in his voice, and when the Indians had been silent to his questions, he’d pulled out his gun. Tanner’s throat tightened.

  “They started running, and he laughed and told them they shouldn’t have run but that cowards needed to be shot. Then he blasted into them, the others joining in some strange, secret bent to massacre.” He remembered the leader’s laugh as they scrambled away from the sudden assault. The Indian woman had been the last to react to the threat of the drawn guns. She’d twisted away, catching a bullet low.

  He’d lost it then. Every bit of reason had left him as he drew his gun and fired at the leader, his shot sending the man’s gun flying, shattering his wrist. But they’d stopped shooting, letting the rest of the Indians go. As he’d slid from his saddle and cradled the squaw’s head, they’d left, one by one. He’d buried the woman and kept riding, always searching for something he could not understand.

  “When Walt shot you. . .”

  She leaned forward and touched his knee. “It was a mistake.”

  “He could have killed you.”

  “But he didn’t, Tanner.” Her laugh was unexpected. “I really shouldn’t have just bounded down those steps like that, but I was scared. For you.”

  “It’s easier to be alone.”

  She nodded. “In some ways, but think of what you’re missing.”

  Hadn’t that been the very thing to spark his fear? Feeling the comforts of the Rocking J, of having a woman around, and Levi. Even Frank’s friendship. Wanting more than that was the problem. Wanting Maira as his own, his wife. Levi as his son instead of his nephew. It would be so easy.

  Maira was moving. Her skirts rustling. Sh
e slipped to her knees in front of him, her lips compressed. He held out his hands to steady her, and she accepted the help. “What are you doing?”

  She settled herself, standing on her knees, putting her face almost even with his. She crept forward, her face coming closer, her hands slipping around his waist. Tanner gathered her close, his arms hungry for her touch. He buried his face in her hair, breathing deeply of her need for him. All that she offered shone like a bright star. Why had he felt the need to escape her? In the circle of her arms, it all seemed so silly, unnecessary. Leaving would hurt her and Levi. It wasn’t about him any longer; it was about the woman who held him.

  He pulled back just enough. “Maira?”

  Trust lit her eyes. Fragile in his arms, she shifted away, lifting her hands to his face. “You don’t have to say anything, Tanner, but I needed to tell you how I felt. If you choose to leave, then I’ll be here for you when you return.” She pulled from his embrace and used his leg to get to her feet.

  “Where are you going?”

  She stood in the doorway of the barn, her body a dark silhouette against the sun. “If I kiss you, it will only make things more difficult, and my love won’t heal what ails you.”

  twenty-six

  Tanner held no illusions about his choice or about Maira’s feelings for him. The two were at odds with each other, but her wisdom shone through when she told him her love would not heal him. He didn’t know what would heal him. If anything. As he tied Cue to a hook in the wall of the barn, he slipped the saddle on the horse’s back. The gelding would at least be ready to go. When Frank returned, he’d fill the man in, show him the prisoner, and let him take control of the situation. He tightened the cinch. Arching his neck, Cue took a playful nip at his sleeve. He batted the horse’s nose and smiled.

  “Where should we go next?”

  He stroked the horse, thinking. He should say good-bye to Levi. The boy deserved at least that. And to Maira? Tangled emotions balled his gut and filled him with dread. He strode out into the evening air and noted the light coming from the front window. Restless with his indecision, Tanner kept busy. Repairing harnesses, feeding the cow. He turned the horses out for the night and gave grain to the chickens. The smokehouse was full of the meat from the slaughtered cows. The men had taken care of all that without him. It filled him with confidence that life would go on here without him. They wouldn’t notice his absence.

  But this time the lie didn’t work. He would be empty inside. He would miss Levi and Maira. All that he had come to know in his short time there.

  A whistle rent the air, and Tanner left the smokehouse. Frank and the group of hands were returning. The older man waved as they drew closer. “Get me that stand.”

  Tanner returned from inside the barn with the box Frank used to help ease his mounts and dismounts. “Leg hurting?”

  “Like fire.”

  The men surrounded them, laughing, covered in mud. Pants were ripped and caked with sweat and grime. “We got ’em,” Slim crowed, motioning to the last horse coming in and carrying two men, both bound hand and foot to the saddle in some way, a rope held by the men who rode on either side of the prisoners. “Got a place to keep ’em for the night?”

  “Were you able to check the brands on the cattle?”

  Frank grunted as his feet hit the box. “Most of them were unbranded stock. We’ll go back for Rocking J cows tomorrow and let the others know where they can get theirs. Some XP in the herd.”

  “Stealing from his employer.”

  Frank raised a brow.

  “Carrot Timmons was leader of the rustlers. You can put those two with him in the barn.” He glanced at the other two men, not recognizing either of them. “Guess he’d recruited his own men to take care of the herd.”

  “Grass was getting low in that canyon. They needed to move on, and fast. Otherwise they wouldn’t have made it through the summer.” Frank lifted his head. “How’s Maira?”

  “Better.”

  Frank’s eyes swept over him. “Thought you’d gone for good.”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “As soon as I get this brace off, I’ll have all the time needed.”

  “I won’t.”

  Cowhands swarmed around them as they stripped saddles and halters from their horses, drowning out conversation. Roger opened the gate as the rest of the hands started their mounts into the corral. As the gate closed, the noise receded, and the men shuffled to the main house for supper. Frank rubbed his knuckles against his vest. “I’m guessing there’s no need for me to be privy to the reasoning behind those words.”

  “No need.”

  “You hurt Maira, and I might chase you down.”

  If Tanner had expected the man to protest, he’d never expected it in such a manner. “She’s a strong woman.”

  “Had to be. Being mama and papa to that boy.” Frank grunted as he rubbed his leg. “You being the brother and all. . . Seems only right that you stay.”

  There it was. Verification of his responsibility. “Nothing like a little guilt.” He turned away.

  “There’s a ghost riding on your back about something, son.”

  “I’ll deal with it.”

  “No, it’ll deal with you, just as it has all these years.”

  Tanner pivoted, anger overflowing. “You don’t know me.”

  “You’re right, but I know something’s riding in the saddle with you. You ride away and you’ll break Maira’s heart.”

  I love you, Tanner. Is that what you’re scared of?

  He focused on Maira. On Frank and Levi and what he was leaving. When he’d left his mother, it had been to escape his stepfather’s overbearing ways, and he’d carried the guilt of her death for so long.

  “You rode in here and started fixing things, and now you’re content to ride out?”

  It was more than that.

  “Maira and I were talking while you were gone. She needs to get back to church and so do I. We’ve secluded ourselves. Want to know why?”

  Tanner leaned to pick up the stand, roiling with the question. Did he? What did it have to do with him?

  “Seems we’ve let ourselves become reclusive. It’s been hard for us to let go of the past hurts. Maira at the orphanage, me and the problems I faced with being accepted. Guess we decided after Jon’s death that it was safer here on the ranch, away from people, but you know what?”

  Tanner ran his fingers over the smooth wood of the step stool.

  “If we’d been involved in town, we might have seen sooner that our cattle was being rustled. We’d have heard about it. Known more about the people there. Been less afraid to reach out when we needed help. We’d have formed relationships. Let people know we wanted to talk and be talked to.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tanner set the stool inside the barn door. He ran his hand over Cue’s nose, then the reins.

  Frank limped up beside him then frowned. “You wanting to leave is for yourself. To protect yourself. From what?”

  Tanner’s gaze snapped to Frank’s.

  “Wanna know what I think?”

  “No. I really don’t.”

  The old cowhand’s nostrils flared, his eyes hard. “I’m going to supper then, but I want to say one more thing first. You said awhile back that the greatest gift was someone caring for you. You remember that?”

  He did.

  “It makes me wonder why a man would turn his back on that kind of gift.”

  twenty-seven

  In the room full of men, at the long table groaning with food, Tanner felt lost. Aloof from the jokes and ribbing comments. He tucked into his food as soon as Frank set a plate in front of him. Talk turned to his heroics, the carcasses they’d dragged off after they’d settled the stampeding herd. Tanner said nothing. He had nothing to add and didn’t relish the way they spoke of him. As if his actions were heroic. He’d done what needed to be done, and it had saved his life. There was nothing more to it than that. He noticed t
hat Frank presided over the table, that Maira, Ana, and Levi were nowhere to be seen.

  “We’ll be using tomorrow to catch up.” Fletcher directed his comment at Tanner. “Frank said you’d be going somewhere else tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, I guess I will.” In slow motion, every cowhand’s eyes turned to him. He felt the weight of their anticipation and curiosity.

  “We’ve all been talking about staying on here,” Slim said. “Price isn’t a good man to work for, and I think we all agree that Mrs. Cullen needs the help more than him.”

  “You won’t get paid,” Frank reminded them as he motioned for Roger to pass his empty plate.

  “We’ll go back and settle up with Price. Should keep me going for a season if I’m careful.” Fletcher passed his empty plate down the table and held up his mug. “More coffee?”

  Frank jerked his head toward the pot, hands full. “Help yourself.”

  Tanner pushed back his plate, contents congealed, his appetite gone. That was it, then. He was no longer needed.

  They lingered over coffee until Frank suggested they take their conversation to the bunkhouse. “Got another round of mouths to feed.” As Slim, then Fletcher, passed him on their way to the door, they pounded him on the back, wishing him luck on his ride. Unaffected by the loss of him on their team. Roger lifted his hand in silent farewell. Tanner nodded at the men, saying little. It was the way of cowhands not to get too attached, knowing a man could move on at any time and for any reason.

  Frank busied himself at the cookstove. The side door of the kitchen opened and Slim stuck his head inside. “Ana around?”

  “No use lurking in the doorway. Come on in before you let the critters in with you,” Frank fussed.

  Slim stood there looking like a chastised schoolboy. He’d donned his hat and slicked his hair.

  Frank shot Tanner a look then rapped the back of his hand on Maira’s door. “Supper’s on, and there’s a young man interested in talking to Ana.”

  Levi yanked open the door, cheeks flushed. “I’m hungry!” His large brown eyes landed on Tanner. “You leaving?”