Whispers on the Wind

by Brenda Jernigan

  “Depends,” Doc said, then took a swallow of coffee. “What’s it to you?”

  Thunder looked at the ornery old coot and wanted to shake the answer to his question out of him, but figured the man was probably just being cautious, so he let it ride. For now. “I think she might be my sister. Mary disappeared about the time the girl was brought through here.”

  “What did she look like?” Doc fired back.

  “She’s pretty. Long blond hair and dark blue eyes,” he added. “And she’s about so tall.” He held his hand up to the appropriate height

  “That pretty much describes the girl I saw. ’Course, she was unconscious so I really couldn’t judge her height, but when I looked in her eyes they were the dark blue you described. Very rare color, indeed.”

  Thunder cut his steak. He was grateful that it looked like he was finally going to get the man to talk. “Did she say anything? Was she hurt or cut?”

  “She was pretty much unconscious. Had one hell of a lump on her head, but she seemed pretty healthy otherwise. The marshal said they found her upside down in a snow bank.”

  “Other than that she wasn’t hurt?”

  “Nope. I figure she was thrown from a horse. She never did regain consciousness while she was here.”

  “What did they do with her?”

  “Since they didn’t know who she was and she couldn’t talk for herself, they took her with them. I warned both of them she probably wouldn’t be able to remember anything when she woke up. It was a very nasty bump. But the marshal seemed real reluctant to leave her here.”

  “They?”

  “There were two marshals with her.”

  “Have any idea where they were headed?” “Nope, but maybe the sheriff can tell you.”

  When Thunder finished his meal, he thanked the doctor then paid a visit to the local sheriff, who told him where the Monroe fellow was headed.

  It wasn’t exactly the answer Thunder wanted to hear. Windy Bend was a day’s ride from here, but at least it was something. Maybe he could find her faster than he’d first thought However, he couldn’t start out in the middle of the night, so he had no choice but to wait until morning.

  Thunder climbed into the lumpy hotel bed, which only offered a little more comfort than sleeping on the ground. He smiled, thinking he’d grown soft, preferring the dry room to the wet ground.

  Tomorrow would be soon enough to head out for Windy Bend. If his luck was good, he’d find Mary safe and he’d bring her home.

  Mary watched as Carter dressed. She would miss seeing him every day, and she’d miss what they’d shared last night. It could have been the start of something new for her.

  Maybe one day her life would be back to normal—not that it ever had been. Of course, she wasn’t sure she’d know how to behave if everything were to be completely normal.

  When Carter finished dressing, he came back over to the bed and sat down on the side. He stared at her for a long moment before he spoke. For an instant a wistfulness stole into his expression. “How do you feel this morning?”

  She longed to say scared to death, but she didn’t She was keenly aware of his scrutiny. Instead she replied, “I’m fine.”

  “Last night...” He didn’t finish what he had to say.

  Mary’s stomach tightened with the anticipation of Carter’s next words. She knew he was going to say it had been a big mistake, and of course, he would be sorry.

  They were always sorry.

  “—Last night was very special,” Carter finally said, then surprised her by pulling her into his arms. He kissed her gently, then he drew back and looked at her with what Mary thought might be tenderness. “You’re something, Mary No Name. I care for you a great deal.”

  Mary’s heart flipped over at his tender words. Trembling with emotion, she touched his cheek. “I love you,” she said softly, realizing the minute she said the words that it was a mistake. But she wanted him to know the truth. At least that much of the truth.

  Carter didn’t say anything else. She felt her flesh color as he kissed her again, quickly, passionately, and then he left her.

  Tears welled in her eyes. Mary stared at the closed door, willing it to open and for Carter to come back. “If only things were different,” she mumbled as she slid out of bed, wincing at the tenderness, the reminder of what had happened last night.

  Carter hadn’t said that he loved her, but then Mary knew better than to fall for softly spoken words. After all, she’d been taught by her mother, who believed anything the men promised her. She used to think that her mother had been such a fool. Now, Mary realized how easy it would be to fall in such a trap. She tilted her chin stubbornly forward. Well, she was stronger than that

  She drew in a deep, fortifying breath.

  Mary didn’t need Carter, she told herself.

  She didn’t need anybody.

  And with that firm resolve, she marched over to the washstand and began to take a birdbath, erasing all traces of Carter’s touch. As she scrubbed each part of her body, numbness seemed to settle in. It felt good, compared to the emptiness that would come later. It was exactly what she needed now.

  When she’d finishing dressing in her old gray dress, she felt much like the old Mary. It was as if the past two months had never happened. But they had. Mary knew they had, and so did Judith and Carter. Mary couldn’t leave without writing a note to Judith, thanking her for all her kindness and explaining that she’d remembered who she was and had to leave to settle some unresolved issues. Then she signed her name, Mary Costner.

  She also left a note for Carter, saying she was sorry. She signed her name, too. She knew that as soon as Carter saw that poster, he’d know who she was and he’d come after her anyway. After all, it was his job.

  She had to hurry.

  Mary handed the note to Maria and told her to give it to Judith when she was feeling better. Mary longed to see Judith and explain, but Mary knew she’d break down if she did. She couldn’t risk losing the numb feeling that she had worked so hard to achieve.

  When she reached the stables, Mary explained to Stanley that she was going for a ride and would be back soon. Since she wasn’t taking anything but the clothes she’d arrived in, it looked perfectly normal,

  She supposed it would appear as though she’d stolen the horse, but she would return it. She was merely borrowing the animal for a while. However, she doubted that Carter would see it that way.

  As Mary rode away, her heart ached. She had truly loved it here on the ranch, but she knew she was doing the right thing. She was heading home to the people who would believe her. Carter never would unless she had proof.

  Until he did, she couldn’t stay here.

  Mary had to admit something she’d thought she would never do. She had been wrong.

  She did need somebody—she needed her family.

  Carter shook himself out of his stupor and blinked as Windy Bend came into view. He didn’t remember the ride into town, and that wasn’t a good thing for a lawman. He should have been on the alert, watching.

  He must be slipping.

  First at the opera house and just now, he warned himself. That was a good way to get himself killed. He’d never been one to daydream or lose his concentration. He had to do something to get his mind off Mary, because when he thought of her, he lost all his focus.

  And last night he’d lost not only his focus, he’d lost what sense he had. He’d never before done anything without thinking it through—until last night Mary had made him feel things he’d never felt before, and he’d lost all thoughts of anything but her.

  He couldn’t possibly love her; he tried to convince himself that it made absolutely no sense. He would have to know a woman for a long time before he could feel anything for her. He’d have to court her and get to know her family because there was no such thing as love at first glance.

  He knew nothing about Mary No Name other than he desired her more than he ever had wanted any other woman. He couldn’t den
y his lust He’d definitely proved that last night He hadn’t expected Mary to be a virgin, and when he’d learned it, he was too far gone to stop. Why hadn’t she stopped him? He shook his head and sighed.

  Carter guided his mount to the hitching post and tied him in front of the sheriff’s office. He was still frowning as he mosied into the office.

  As soon as he opened the door, he asked, “So, did we find out anything?”

  “And a good morning to you.” Rick chuckled. “No, we haven’t found out anything.”

  Hank poured Carter a cup of black coffee and handed it to him. “Here. The way you look this morning, you must need something damned strong.”

  Carter accepted the cup with a nod. “Obliged,” he said, and inhaled the rich aroma of the dark brew.

  Hank sat back down at his desk. “It’s the damnedest thing. A man marches into the opera house with a gun and everybody becomes deaf and dumb. Surely somebody had to have seen him.”

  “Maybe they’re afraid,” Carter said.

  “Nope. That ain’t it,” Rick said. “It’s like they can remember, but they can’t say it They get this odd look on their faces and then they tell me they didn’t see anybody.”

  “Maybe, I’ll go back to the opera house and see if I can find some kind of a clue.”

  “How’s your ma?” Hank asked.

  “Better, but she is still running a slight fever. Mary has been a big help taking care of her.”

  “How is her arm?” Hank asked.

  “She’s sore, but getting better.” And she feels absolutely wonderful in my arms. He decided to not voice that tidbit of information.

  “Mary sure has a pretty voice,” Rick said. “Funny how she can remember how to sing, but not her last name. I sure thought she’d remember who she is before now. Somebody, somewhere, must be worried about her.”

  She has a lovely body, too. Carter knew he needed to get the thoughts out of his head so he said, “I’m sure they are.” He just hoped it was not because she had committed a crime.

  The jailhouse door swung open and a man strode in with a couple of leather pouches slung over his shoulder. “Hello, Hank,” he said, nodding to Carter and Rick. “Heard you got yourself shot.”

  “Yep.” Hank nodded, flexing his shoulder. “Must be getting slow.”

  The messenger looked through one of the bags and fished out a handful of letters. “Here you go.” He handed the letters to Hank.

  “Obliged,” Hank said, reaching for the bundle. “How you doing, Virgil?”

  “My ass hurts,” he answered. “I’ve been in that damned saddle too long.”

  “Why don’t you rest a spell?” Rick suggested.

  “Better not. I’m late. Ran into the Carlson gang a few miles outside of town and had to swing around another way. Figured if they saw me, they’d go for the mail just for meanness.”

  Carter frowned. “You sure it was the Carlson gang?”

  “Dang tootin’. I had the misfortune of bumping into them before.” He held up his right hand to show he was missing half a finger. “Last time I only lost a finger,” Virgil said as he turned to go. “Sure don’t want to lose nothin’ else. I hope you folks don’t have no trouble.”

  “Me, too,” the sheriff said. “See you next time, Virgil.”

  After Virgil had left, Rick looked at Carter, who was staring out the window. “Well, you’ve been chasing the Carlsons. Looks like you’re not going to have to chase much longer.”

  “I’d say they are looking for a fight, all right,” Carter said.

  “And you are going to oblige them,” Rick concluded.

  “Damn right”

  Hank had been opening the mail as they talked. He unfolded a piece of paper and held the sheet up. “I think this is our new wanted poster,” he said. He looked at it closer, his eyes growing wide. After a moment, he said, “I’ll be damned.”

  “What is it?” Rick asked, taking the paper out of Hank’s hand. Rick’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Jumping jacks! ”

  Carter took a deep breath and asked, “So, who is it?”

  Rick carried the poster over to Carter. “Maybe you can tell us.”

  Frowning, Carter jerked the poster out of Rick’s hand. Why were those two were acting so strangely? They acted like they’d never seen a wanted poster before.

  Carter glanced at the poster and froze. They had been right This poster certainly was different from any other he’d seen. He stared at the picture in the middle and he began to grow cold inside. From lowered lids, he shot a commanding look at the two men staring at him. His mouth was set with annoyance.

  “Wanted dead or alive for the murder of Big Jim McCoy,” he drawled with distinct mockery for all to hear. There was a picture with the name printed under it His face became a glowering mask of rage. It didn’t say Mary No Name. It said in plain black and white, Mary Costner.

  Chapter Twelve

  Carter felt numb as he stared at the poster.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep steadying breath, then he thought back to the first night when he’d found Mary. She’d had blood in her hair. Even then the hairs on the back of his neck had told him something wasn’t right He’d also had the feeling that she was running from something.

  He had been right

  The girl had played him for a fool the entire time, and worse, he’d let her. To think that he could have felt something for Mary stunned him. His shock yielded quickly to fury. His eyes darkened like angry thunderclouds. He’d been foolish to let his guard down.

  When Carter looked up, Hank and Rick seemed to be waiting for him to say something. “I guess we now know Mary’s last name.” A thin chill hung on the edge of his words.

  Rick was frowning as if he were trying to figure it all out “I find it hard to believe that the Mary we know could have killed anyone.”

  That’s for a judge to decide,” Carter said in a voice that sounded as ice cold as his heart felt He went to the desk, placed his coffee cup down with a resounding thud, and grabbed his hat “Where you going?” Hank asked.

  With an impatient sigh, Carter replied, To arrest Mary.”

  “She’s too young to be in jail,” Hank protested. “Maybe there is something more about what happened that we’re not seeing.”

  “What’s the matter with both of you?” Carter snapped. His curt voice lashed out at them. “She might be a woman but she is accused of murder.” He looked at Rick. “We simply overlooked the clues. Remember when we found her? She wasn’t all that far from Gregory Gulch and her hands were rough for a woman, but we were too caught up in the helpless female appearance to pay attention to our jobs.” Carter nodded curtly to both of them. “Gentlemen, she could be a cold-blooded murderer who wrapped us around her little finger,” Carter told them. For all he knew, she could be back at the ranch having a good laugh about the fool he’d been.

  “What about the Carlson Gang?” Hank asked. “If they want me, they will have to wait their turn,” Carter gritted out, feeling all his anger bubbling like a cauldron inside of him. “You did notice that poster said dead or alive. I’d like to see her brought in alive,” he said, then slammed the door on his way out

  “Strange,” Hank commented.

  “What’s strange?” Rick asked. “Carter’s always been hotheaded.”

  “Well, that might be true”—Hank chuckled—“but the Carlson Gang has been a thorn in that man’s side ever since I can remember. Getting every last one of them was all he seemed to live for. Now, suddenly they’re not so important ” Hank scratched his head. “I think Carter cares for Mary, but he’ll never admit it ’Cause if he did, he’d have to question himself about upholding the law.”

  Rick laughed. “Maybe he doesn’t know he cares. He sure hasn’t admitted it to me. Until he does, I’d say Carter is in for a rough ride.”

  When Carter arrived at the ranch, his anger was barely held in check. He strode into the house and demanded Mary’s whereabouts.

  Maria was comi
ng out of the kitchen when she ran into Carter. “Senior.”

  “Where is Mary?”

  “She’s gone. At least two hours now.”

  “Gone where?”

  Maria shrugged. “I do not know, senior.”

  He didn’t say anything else as he strode across the main room. So she had run. It figured that she’d just up and leave with not so much as a good-bye, the ungrateful bitch. Of course, why would he expect her to say good-bye, considering what he knew about her now?

  She’d been using them all along, pretending not to remember her past when she’d only needed a place to hide. Carter climbed the steps two at a time, heading for her room to see if she had cleaned it out. If she’d left her belongings, maybe it meant she was coming back.

  He shoved open the door and glanced around. It looked exactly the same as it had this morning, only the bed had been made. A note was propped up on the pillows.

  He snatched up the paper and then went to the wardrobe. All the clothes were still there as if Mary had never been here. But her old dress was gone, he noticed. His brow lifted with surprise.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. At least, she isn’t a thief. Just a murderer,” he said to himself. He looked down at the paper he had crumpled in his hand. He unfolded the note.

  Carter,

  I know you won’t believe anything I have to say, but I have come to care a great deal for you and your mother. That is why I’m leaving. I love you both, and I don’t want to hurt you with my problems.

  Love,

  Mary

  She called murder a problem? Carter crumpled the note and tossed it on the dressing table, then stormed out of the room. He couldn’t stay there. The whole damned room smelled like Mary. He clenched his jaw. When he passed Maria in the hall, he told her gruffly, “Have somebody clean that room right away.”

  Carter took a deep breath before he opened the door to his mother’s room. She lay swaddled in bedclothes, her eyes shut But the minute she heard him, her eyes opened. Carter thought she looked pale, but that was to be expected since she’d been in bed a few days.