Lacey didn’t remember lying down, but she felt cool clothes on her face. She was grateful for the liquid someone gave her to drink, but when she tried to move, she couldn’t. Words tumbled incoherently from her lips, and she thought she was calling for Maggie, but then she slipped into a restless sleep.
Bo sat and stared at Lacey as two women chanted in their singsong voices while tossing herbs on the fire. A kettle steamed the inside of the tipi, but he felt helpless and was wishing that Maggie were there. He didn’t know how long he sat after the two women had left, but he rose the moment Curt and Evan entered.
“Get out. You’re to blame that she’s sick. Anythin’ happens to Lacey, and I swear, Curt, I’ll kill you.”
“I wanted to see for myself, old man. But don’t you think it’s a little late for your concern? The time for that—”
“Stop riding him, Curt,” Evan cut in. “Let him stay with her. Lacey’s strong. She’s just got a chill from riding in the rain.”
Evan turned his back on the two of them. He wished Curt had never veered off to the Reina that night. He could understand his obsession with Lacey, but now Rafe would follow them. He’d made sure there wasn’t much of a trail for him to track, but he didn’t relish the thought of confronting him. Pushing aside the hide, he turned to Curt.
“You coming? Or are you figuring on playing nurse?” He couldn’t help his anger. Coming here with Lacey was a mistake. It wouldn’t have been if the guns he had arranged to have waiting had arrived. But the shipment was late, and Walks Like Cat was angry. “Curt! Let’s go.”
“Don’t get any crazy idea of sneaking off with her, old man.”
“Where would I take her, sick as she is? But you won’t hurt Lacey. I’m warnin’ you that I won’t stand aside—”
“Warn me…?” With a growl, Curt sprang at him, only to have Evan’s wiry grip jerk his arm back before he slammed his fist into Bo’s face.
“What the hell are you letting him rile you for?” Evan demanded. “He ain’t going nowhere.”
Curt pulled free of his hold and smoothed back his hair before stalking out. Evan shot Bo a last warning look and then left them.
Throughout the night, the long day that followed, and well into the next night, Bo sat beside Lacey, watching the two Indian women care for her. All he could do was bathe her brow with water and wait. Praying was something he had given up on.
The camp was quiet tonight, not even a wind stirred. He glanced up at the young woman who entered with his food, understanding from her signing that she wished him to leave. He sat in front of the tipi, thankful that both Curt and Evan had kept away. Once the woman left, he returned to his place by the fire. It took him a few minutes to realize that Lacey was awake.
“Bo? You stayed.”
“Couldn’t leave you to these savages. Don’t be talkin’.” He kneeled beside her and offered his canteen for her to drink.
“Why … with them, Bo?” The effort to hold her head up taxed her strength, and she lay down.
He met her fever-bright eyes and then looked away. “I got a story to tell, an’ maybe it ain’t the right time or place, but there’s things you need to know. I don’t know what’s gonna happen here. You got to promise to stay quiet and let me talk.”
Lacey managed a nod and gripped the blanket.
“Ain’t gonna start with excuses. Jus’ swear it’s all true. Even,” he added solemnly, “if my bein’ with Curt and Evan left you without any faith in me.” He swallowed and found that he had to force himself to continue.
“My real name’s James Beau Lacey. I’m your father.”
Chapter 22
Lacey’s cry was weak. She closed her eyes and then had to look at Bo. Her mouth worked, but she couldn’t speak. It couldn’t be true, and yet, even as she denied it to herself, Bo began to speak.
“Your mother was a pretty woman, happy and always singin’. She’d stop by my brother’s place on her way to bringin’ some of the fancy linens she sewed for the plantation owners. We were dirt-poor farmers, Lacey, I ain’t makin’ no apology for that. But when I tried to court her proper, her brother ran me off. He wanted better for her, and young fool that I was, I left her be. When Garrett come ’round, talkin’ ’bout his spread an’ all, her brother arranged for them to many.”
His gruff voice caught, and Lacey saw he was lost in his memories, but even as she tried to speak, he continued.
“Her brother sold her to Sy! He wouldn’t tell me where she’d gone. An’ then five years later she come back. She ran away from Sy. Her body was hurtin’ so bad an’ her heart was breakin’ after seein’ her babes die off. She hated him,” he ground out in a raw voice.
From somewhere Lacey found the strength to speak. “But how? Later … I mean … you both…”
“I loved her. I didn’t have nothin’ to give her, but I loved her.”
“But Sy followed her. Maggie said—”
“He came after her. She wrote him an’ said she wasn’t ever goin’ back. She was a possession to him. Sy wouldn’t let her be. I went lookin’ for work up the river, an’ when I come back to get her, she was gone.”
Exhausted, Lacey pushed herself to sit. “All this time. You never told me. But why did he say I was his?”
“That’s why she went back with him. He swore everythin’ would belong to you. I had nothin’, and he could give you everythin’. She knew she was carryin’ my child.”
There was pain in his eyes and accusation in his voice, but Lacey found no answering warmth stirring inside her. All her life had been centered on the Reina; for that she had been denied a father and love. For the land she had bartered herself in marriage. And her mother, her mother lost love for … for things. It was all a bitter, bitter draught to swallow.
“She never told Sy who your father was.” Hanging his head, unable to bear the pain in her eyes, he added, “I know how much you must hate me now that you know.”
Hate him? Did she feel that angry emotion? Hating Bo was pointless. Staring at him, she saw him for what he was: a broken man who had lost whatever respect he had once had for himself. The words were the hardest she had ever spoken. “I don’t hate you, Bo. You made up for Sy’s coldness … Oh, what does it matter! It’s all past. But how could you be—”
“…be with Curt and Evan, rustlin’ your cattle an’ dealin’ guns with savages?” His laugh was harsh. “I hated Sy for takin’ her away. I couldn’t leave things be without knowin’ ’bout you. Workin’ for him an’ stealin’ his cows was small revenge. Didn’t use the money. Put it all by for you so’s you’d have somethin’ from me. Curt saw to it. It’s wrong for one man like Garrett to have so much. Curt let slip he felt the same way an’ I guess I was fool enough to admit the truth ’bout me to him. He used it. He used me.”
“Bo,” she gently reminded him, “Sy’s dead. Why did you keep on?”
“Yeah, he is. An’ he tricked me with that bastard son.” He saw how she rubbed her head, weakly bunching the blanket that served as a pillow. “You rest. We’ll talk later.”
“No. There might not be time. Will you help me? Or are you going to let Curt—”
“Hush! You don’t know what you’re sayin’. I never meant for things to go this far. Curt’s shrewd. When he figured out how I was gettin’ money, he wanted in. When Sy died, I wanted to stop, but he figured if you lost enough, you’d give up an’ turn to him. Fool don’t know you at all.”
“And Evan? Where does he fit in?”
As if her question had conjured him up, Evan pushed aside the hide and entered. He glanced from one to the other. “She’s better?”
“Fever’s broke. She ain’t ready to move on.”
Move on? Lacey tensed. Bo hadn’t said anything about them leaving.
“Curt wants you, old man. I’ll stay with her.”
Bo glanced over at Lacey, hesitating.
“Go on. I’ll watch her. Got my own reasons for wanting nothing to happen to her.”
“You let her rest.”
“I hear you. She’ll be here when you get back.”
Only Lacey heard his soft whisper as Bo left.
“If you get back.”
Rafe coldly eyed Captain Chase. He cursed and thanked whatever luck had led him and Luke to cross trails with the detachment of soldiers. The thanks were for capturing Evan’s men and a wagonload of new Sharps carbines. The cursing was for the two days they lost helping the captain and for the army officer’s refusal to see reason.
“Captain, I want the guns. They’re the only chance I have to get Lacey.”
“And you must understand that I can’t let you take these guns to the very savages—”
“Luke!” Rafe drew his gun, grabbed the stunned captain in a choke hold, and used the gun barrel to nudge his chin up. “I didn’t want to do it this way, but you left me no choice.” Rafe glanced over at Luke, nodded as he saw him gather the reins and release the pole brake. He dragged the officer backward toward his own horse. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you come after me.”
“You’re stealing government—”
“I’m taking pay for helping you out of a tight spot.” Rafe clicked back his gun hammer in warning and shouted for Luke to go. In a smooth motion he shoved the captain into a spinning forward turn, leaped onto his horse, and fired two shots into the air. Flattened down in his saddle, Rafe was off at a run.
Captain Chase waved aside the men whose rifles were sighted to fire at Rafe. “Let the fool go.” He turned to the ragtag band of men they had captured. At his signal the call went out to mount up. “We’ll get the information we need from them,” he said to his wounded sergeant. With a glance toward the Bradys, he added, “Send for a full company from the fort. Maybe we can manage to save their fool necks.”
It was late afternoon when Rafe and Luke stopped on a flat rise in the shadow of the Bradys. Rafe quartered the area, smiling when he added yet another of the blue-gray threads to the small roll he carried in his shirt pocket. The toe of his boot nudged the overturned rock. “Figure it’s three maybe four days since they passed this way?”
“That’s what I figure,” Luke answered. “Three tired horses, one still carryin’ double.”
“I found another half print up ahead. Same vee chip in the left hoof. Two tips of brush are broken, same as we found two days ago. Lacey’s still with them, still leaving a trail for us.”
Luke gazed at Rafe as he looked off toward the craggy peaks of the mountains ahead of them. He knew without asking what was bothering him. They were well into Comanche territory. His own neck hair prickled at the thought.
“Evan’s good,” Rafe remarked, taking a spare sip from his canteen.
His voice was as flat and hard as the few times he had chosen to speak these last few days. Luke respected him for not pushing on without caution. They had rested their horses for short spans, snatching sleep as soon as dark fell, for Rafe refused to push on and chance missing a sign of their direction. Luke moved to check his horse’s cinch strap. They had ditched the wagon in a hidden canyon and loaded the team of horses with a few of the guns, just enough to wet the Indians’ interest.
“Mount up, Luke. We’ve wasted enough time.”
“You figure the captain will come after us?”
“I’m not counting on it.”
Swinging into his saddle, Rafe urged his horse into an easy canter. He knew where he was going and what would be waiting for him. His worry was for Lacey. Curt and Evan were dead men for taking her, but where Bo James fit in to this, he could only wonder.
Lacey was wondering about Bo, too. Evan had left her last night, and Bo still had not returned to the tipi. Two women had brought her skins of water this morning, showing her how to crush berries by rubbing them against her skin to make a soapy lather. Lacey had shied from them remaining with her but couldn’t get them to leave. They had offered her a comb made from animal bone for her hair and left her a worn buckskin shift she now wore with her own pants. And she had been left alone since then.
She couldn’t stand the waiting and rose, pushing aside the hide. No one was around, and the tipi was at the edge of the camp. Blinking as she stepped out into the sun, Lacey was struck by the silence. She judged the distance to the edge of the wood and took a deep breath, ready to run, when she was jerked unceremoniously back by her braid.
“Where were you going, Lacey?” Curt asked softly.
“I was hungry.”
“Spare me your lies. Get inside, I want to talk to you.”
Meekly obeying him and hating herself for it, Lacey did, but stood at the far side.
Curt smiled. “Still the child. But it doesn’t matter. Rafe’s coming.” Her cry deepened his smile. “You’re right to be afraid for him. He’ll never make it through the pass, but I want you to see for yourself.”
“See for myself?” she repeated, realizing what he meant. No, she didn’t want to see Rafe die, but she refused to cower again. Away from here might mean a chance of escaping and that was all she could think about.
He held out his hand, and with a shudder of revulsion she took it. “We’ll ride to the top of the ridge. The view should be excellent from there.” He caressed her hair. “And when it’s over, there’s no need to wait.”
Where she found the courage to shrug his hand off, she didn’t know, but it fed her strength to taunt him. “You’ll never have a moment’s peace with me. Someday I’ll kill you for what you’ve done. And you’ll never take Rafe’s place. I love him.”
Her eyes rich with hate met his. Lacey read nothing in the look he returned. Had she sealed Rafe’s fate with her taunts? As she followed him to where two horses waited, she tried to find an answer and couldn’t.
Walks Like Cat stood off to one side with three warriors, but Curt stopped short of joining them. He gestured toward the edge of the high ridge, and Lacey moved closer. “Rafe?” Her voice was a mere whisper as she saw him and Luke file into the pass. Lacey glanced again at the Indians. They were armed with only knives and made no move to stop them. Were they luring them in deeper and planning to capture them? The thought of Rafe being tortured made her turn, ready to bargain herself.
“Why are they letting them through?” Curt muttered angrily. “Damn savages! Why don’t they kill them?”
It was Evan who rode up and answered him. “Seems you’ve underestimated your man, Curt. And I know what happened to the guns. Somehow he’s got them. They talk stronger than empty promises. That Luke speaks enough Kiowa to get by. You know how they admire bravery, so don’t start on me. There was nothing I could do.”
“More’s the pity I chose you for my partner,” came Curt’s bitter answer, demanding in the next moment, “Did you tell them there would be no more horses or guns?”
“These savages, Curt, have their own code of honor. Aside from trading the guns, which Luke claims that they have, he demanded Rafe be allowed to fight for his woman. ’Course, if he’s lying, he’s dead.”
“How will they know?”
“They got ways to settle things. Maybe you can fight him for Lacey since you want her so badly.”
Lacey refused to look away from Evan’s eyes or his grin, as if that thought amused him. Rafe was good with his knife, she knew that. He had survived other fights. But she knew as little as Curt did. Would the Indians give him a fair chance? Curt took her reins and led her horse back to the camp. All she hoped for was a chance to see Rafe and found that Curt was not going to let that happen.
“Tie her, Evan.”
Don’t beg, she warned herself as she went back into the tipi. She didn’t struggle as Evan made short work of tying her hands and ankles with rawhide thon
gs. But she wanted to give Rafe time without either Evan or Curt there.
“Evan, wait. Why do you let Curt order you around? I can’t believe that you would be a part of this.” She felt the heat of his gaze when he hunkered back on his heels at her side.
“It won’t help, Lacey. No matter what Rafe says to Walks Like Cat, he ain’t taking you.”
“You know what they’ll do to him, don’t you?” His smile chilled her. “Tell me why, Evan.”
“So demanding! Guess you’ll never change. I threw in with Curt to have enough money without having the old man holding his ranch over my head, forcing me into his ways.” He stood up and looked away from her eyes, which pleaded with him. “No matter what I did, it wouldn’t have been enough for you.”
“You can’t hold that against me. Sy wouldn’t let me marry you, Evan. And I never loved you. I never once said that to you. I thought you—”
“That maybe I forgot? I didn’t. You made it clear that I wasn’t man enough for you or the Reina.” His eyes glittered with hate for a moment before the look became one of desire. “Let Rafe and Curt kill each other. I’ll be the only one that comes back for you.”
The chilling promise in his voice left her shaken. She lay watching the pinpoint of light at the top of the tipi give way to night as the drums began. She only knew that Rafe was still alive, for she was sure that if anything had happened to him, she would know.
Her skin was abraded where the ties cut. She didn’t hear anyone approach, but somehow wasn’t surprised when one of the Indians came for her. He set his torch in the firepit and with his knife cut her free. She tried not to shrink from the wicked blade he held as he pulled her roughly to her feet. Lacey stood and tried to walk, but the pinpricks in her legs made her falter. “Wait, please,” she whispered foolishly.
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