Whispers on the Wind

by Brenda Jernigan

  Carter glanced at Rick, then back to Mary. “Is that true?”

  She nodded.

  Carter started toward Mary but his eyes were on Thunder. “I hate to tell you this, but your sister is under arrest for murder,” Carter informed her brother. “I never did hear anything about her family since she pretended to have amnesia while she was with me.”

  Thunder glanced back to Mary, his brow arched. “Did you do that?”

  “Afraid so,” she admitted with a sheepish smile. Carter unlocked the cell and held the door open. “It’s time to lock you up.”

  Thunder stepped in front of her. “Before you lock her up, I should advise you that I’m also Mary’s attorney. As such, I need to talk to her.”

  “You’re a lawyer?” Carter asked in a disbelieving tone.

  Thunder did his best to hold his temper. However, the marshal seemed to be shoving mighty hard toward a fat lip. “You doubt what I just told you?”

  Hank jumped into the conversation. “I received a telegram from Marshal Forester about an hour ago saying Mister—I mean, Thunder—might be stopping by. Said they have been working together to help find the killer.”

  Carter grimaced. “Sounds like our Mary has an interesting family,” he said, but he thought, One that I know nothing about. What was she doing working in such a rough conditions when her brother was a lawyer? Carter motioned for Mary to enter. “You can talk in here since this is where Mary will be held until I can take her back to Gregory Gulch.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d release her into my custody?” Thunder asked.

  “You supposed right.” Carter gave him a smirk. “I don’t know you, mister, so I’m afraid the trust isn’t there. You’ll have to talk in there,” Carter said with a nod to his left.

  Thunder gave Mary a small shove forward. She walked right past Carter into the cell and never once glanced Carter’s way. Thunder followed.

  “I’ll need a chair,” Thunder informed Carter as he passed.

  After the chair had been placed in the cell, Thunder sat down across from Mary, who was sitting on the bunk.

  Hank shoved away from his desk and looked at Rick. “Let’s go get some grub. I’m hungry.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Rick said, grabbing his hat off a peg. “How about you, Carter?”

  “I’ll stay here with the prisoner,” Carter said, then slumped down. “Bring me back a plate of stew. Better make that two plates. We’ll have to feed the prisoner.”

  Mary cut her eyes sarcastically toward him. Now, isn’t that nice of him ?

  She wanted to throw something at Carter, but then she wondered, what was the use? He wasn’t going to change, no matter what she did. Or didn’t do.

  Mary watched Carter just as he watched her.

  Trying to look casual, Carter leaned his chair back against the wall, propped his feet on the desk, then pushed his Stetson down over his eyes. He didn’t seem worried about anything, especially her, but then why should, he? Carter was on the right side of the bars. She wasn’t.

  And Mary knew he would be listening to everything she and Thunder talked about.

  “Well, young lady,” Thunder said. He sat down in the straight-back chair and folded his arms across his chest. “This is some mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”

  “It seems that way,” Mary agreed.

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  Mary shook her head. “I wish I could. But the truth is ... I really don’t know what happened.”

  “Jesus Christ, Mary,” Thunder yelled. “There was blood everywhere—how could you not know what happened?”

  “You don’t have to shout,” Mary informed. “It doesn’t make sense to me, either. Why do you think I ran?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Because I knew no one would believe I didn’t do it.” She frowned, then added, “I don’t believe it, and I was there!”

  “All right, all right,” Thunder said, holding his hands up. “Calm down. Let’s start from the beginning and tell me everything.” He leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. “I heard you and McCoy struck a rich vein of gold.”

  “I’d almost forgotten that It seems so long ago. I went from being very happy to scared to death in a matter of a few hours.” She smiled ruefully. “Jim and I were heading home from the mine when he told me he’d invited his half brother over to eat with us. He said his brother had just arrived at camp.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “I don’t know,” Mary admitted with a disgusted shake of her head. “I remember going into the cabin and poking up the fire so I could start dinner, but I don’t remember anything else after that until I woke up the next morning.”

  Mary went on to explain how she’d awakened that morning covered in blood and gripping the knife. She told Thunder what she’d done that morning before she left and about her rush to leave town, only to be thrown from her horse. “And that is how I met Carter and his family.”

  “That’s some story,” Thunder said. “Somehow we’re going to have to get you to remember what you can’t. There is probably a good reason why you can’t recall certain facts. We’ll just have to find the answer.” Thunder grew serious. “I do have one question for you.”

  “What?”

  “Why didn’t you come home?” Thunder asked. He’d said it in such a quiet way that Mary felt guilty.

  “Because I didn’t want trouble for our family. I thought I could remember on my own. However, it hasn’t happened so far.”

  “I have a hunch that Jim’s brother had something to do with this, but why you can’t remember him is still a puzzle to me,” Thunder said, rubbing his jaw. I’ll figure it out though.”

  Mary relaxed. She could always count on Thunder. “Well, now that you’re here you can tell me what’s going on at home. How is everybody doing?” she asked.

  Thunder smiled. “It was a real battle leaving them behind,” he told her. They all wanted to come help.”

  Feeling better already, Mary smiled. “Have you heard from Billy?”

  “Claire is doing fine and expecting the baby anytime. Billy did have three more colts born in the last few weeks. One he declares is going to be a great racehorse.”

  Thunder rose. His powerful, well-muscled body moved with easy grace. “Guess I’ll go to the hotel and think about what you’ve told me. I’ll be back in the morning. Is there anything you need, kid?”

  “Yes, another dress to change into would be nice.”

  “I’ll do what I can. See you tomorrow,” Thunder said. He turned toward where Carter was still lounging at the desk. “You can let me out now,” Thunder called.

  As he waited for Carter to unlock the door, Thunder glanced at the marshal as he strode past him. “I assume my sister will be well protected tonight.”

  “I’ll stay right here,” Carter assured Thunder. “I assume you will be back tomorrow.”

  For some reason, Thunder found the marshal’s displeasure amazing. “You can bet your life on it.” He stepped out and closed the door firmly behind him.

  Carter frowned at the door, then dropped back down into the chair behind the desk. He propped his chin on his hand and thought He wasn’t sure how he felt about the story Mary had told her brother. Even though it sounded far-fetched, it really seemed like the Mary he’d come to know. Maybe she was telling the truth.

  He’d heard the desperation in her voice, and that made him wonder. But Mary not being able to remember puzzled him. Could someone have drugged her? It was definitely a possibility, but surely she would have remembered seeing the man beforehand.

  Damn, his head hurt.

  He shoved himself to his feet and grabbed the coffeepot Coffee. That’s what he needed. He ducked into the back where the sink was located and pumped some fresh water for a pot of coffee.

  Mary might be charged with murder, but Carter had a hard time believing she could do anything to harm anyone. It was just a gut feeling, but he’d need proof, because he’d learned i
n the past that looks could be deceiving.

  When Carter returned with the old tin coffeepot, he placed it on the potbellied stove, then stoked the fire. The nights still got cool after the sun went down, and since they would be spending the night here, they might as well be comfortable.

  Carter glanced over at Mary. She looked much like a child sitting on the crude jail bunk with her knees drawn up and her arms wrapped around them, watching him. “Is there anything you need?”

  Her eyebrows arched mischievously as she looked up at him. Her dark blue eyes glistened like rare jewels. Then she answered him, “A key.”

  Carter chuckled. “Nice try.” No matter how angry he was with her, there was something about Mary that made him smile. Perhaps it was the defiant little spark that lay just beneath her alabaster skin or that volatile nature that dared him to provoke her.

  Rick shoved the door open and marched in, two plates of stew in hand. He slammed the door shut with his foot “Hank has gone to get the horses, but we didn’t forget your supper.” Rick placed the tray on the desk and removed the dishtowels that had been covering the plates. Fragrant steam wafted up into the air and Carter’s stomach growled.

  “It was mighty good tonight” Rick commented as Carter took a plate of stew. Rick went over to Mary’s cell and unlocked the door. “You’d better eat while it’s hot”

  “What the hell are you doing?” Carter snapped. Rick looked at Carter as if he’d lost his mind. “You didn’t expect her to eat in there.” Rick jerked his head toward the cell. “Did you?”

  “She’s a prisoner.”

  “But she’s a special prisoner,” Rick said with a smile. He hung the keys on the peg before addressing Carter. “Now, if you don’t think that you can handle her, I’ll be glad to stand guard for you. Otherwise, I’m headed back to the ranch.”

  “Get out of here,” Carter muttered. He rubbed the muscles in the back of his neck.

  Mary realized then that Carter was very tense. And she was sure she was the cause. The silence lengthened between then, making her uncomfortable. “Look, if you don’t want to eat with me, I’ll go back into my cage.”

  Carter pointed to the chair across from him. “Sit down, Mary,” he ground out

  He didn’t even wait for her to do so before he grabbed up his fork and started eating. Then Mary remembered she wasn’t a guest, but a prisoner. What did she expect, a tablecloth and candles?

  She took a bite of tender meat and admitted it was wonderful. However, the company left much to be desired, and she was determined not to be the first one to speak. She’d just enjoy the food and then go back to her cell.

  “If that was your brother,” Carter said out of the blue, “then how come you have different last names?”

  “I don’t have any real brothers or sisters.”

  “Aha! I knew he was lying.”

  “If you’d let me finish,” Mary snapped, a little irritated that Carter would always think the worst where she was concerned. “I grew up in an orphanage. There were six of us,” she said in a soft voice. Then her pride kicked in and she spoke with more confidence. “Somehow, we managed to become a family, but it wasn’t easy. When the oldest, Brandy, married Thunder, he became my brother, too, or you could call him my brother-in- law.”

  “That’s interesting,” Carter said as he picked up his cup of coffee. “Thunder was one of the orphans?”

  “No. Thunder was raised by the Cheyenne. If you think he looks savage now, you should have seen him then. He scared all of us. When we met him, he was a scout for a wagon train. Since we didn’t have a man with our wagon, Thunder took care of us.”

  Carter leaned back and propped one booted foot on his leg. “He actually volunteered?” Carter asked with a grin that was irresistibly devastating. “After meeting him, I find that hard to believe.”

  Mary started laughing and Carter actually smiled. She reached for her cup of coffee. She chuckled, then swallowed her smile. “No, he didn’t volunteer,” she admitted. “He was roped into taking care of us, and he didn’t like it any more than we did.” She smiled as she remembered all the interesting times they’d had.

  Mary went on with her story because every time she paused, Carter would prompt her to continue, much like a child hearing a bedtime story. So she told him all about the journey until she came to the part where Brandy had murdered Sam Owens. She hesitated, then with a resigned sigh she related the tale.

  “It must run in the family,” Carter said nonchalantly.

  Mary placed her cup on the table, her eyes feeling like they were spitting sparks. Why had she bothered to tell him anything if he was going to make fun of her? She stared at him long and hard. Instead of exploding like she wanted to, she didn’t say anything.

  “Are you going to finish your story?” he asked.

  She arched her eyebrow. “I don’t appreciate your comment,” she informed him.

  “But it’s the truth,” Carter argued.

  “Only on the surface. That is your problem, Carter,” she snapped. “You never bother to look beneath the evidence. You only accept what’s right on the surface.” Mary pushed herself to a standing position. “Sometimes, things are not as they seem. Let me tell you why Brandy shot the man. It was because Sam was trying to rape Ellen, my younger sister, and when Brandy tried to stop him, he turned on Brandy.”

  Mary leaned across the table so she could see Carter at eye level. She wanted him to know she was serious about Brandy. “If Brandy hadn’t shot him, I’m sure I would have. So you can arrest me for thinking about it!”

  Mary straightened, then gave him a sarcastic look. “Oh, I forgot, you’ve already done that.” She flung the words at him, turned, and went back to her cell.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m a prisoner, Marshal, or have you forgotten?”

  Carter sauntered over to the cell, rubbing the back of his neck. The woman made his head hurt. He had been enjoying the conversation, figuring it was a good way for him to get to know her. And he’d been surprised at what he’d found so far— this was one hell of a woman who also had one hell of a temper.

  “Look.” He grasped the bars as he leaned against the door. “Why don’t we call a truce tonight and just talk? It’s going to be a long night, and we may never get another chance.”

  Mary wasn’t sure she wanted Carter to know anything about her. But then again, his opinion couldn’t be much lower. “All right,” she finally agreed. “You can sit over in that chair, but make one more sarcastic remark and I’ll throw you out on your ear,” Mary warned him.

  He chuckled and seated himself leisurely, stretching his long legs out in front of him. What was it about her that made him feel so good? “Your family is definitely interesting.”

  Mary nodded. “You could say that They would probably tell you that I was very hard to get along with.”

  “They wouldn’t have to tell me.” Carter smiled devilishly. “I know that firsthand.”

  Mary shook her finger at him. “I hate to tell you but you’re no prize yourself.”

  “Maybe it’s because we’re both so alike.”

  Mary smiled. “Perhaps.”

  Carter shifted in the chair. He realized he liked it when she smiled.

  “What happened to your parents?” he asked.

  “I never knew my father,” Mary said, her smile immediately disappearing. “My mother worked in a brothel, and that is where I was raised until I was put in the orphanage.”

  Carter frowned. I’m sorry. Sounds like you had it rough.”

  Mary thought he really looked sincere. ‘Thank you. I guess we can’t help where we come from, but we can help where we’re going. I swore I would never be like my mother, but I’m definitely not as good as your family. I’d never even seen such pretty clothes until I wore your sister’s things,” she said.

  Carter leaned over and touched her hand. “Don’t put yourself down. No matter what clothes you have on the outside, you are still the same p
erson inside.”

  She laughed sarcastically. “Yeah, I’m no good.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “It’s kind of hard to believe in yourself when you’re accused of something you didn’t do.”

  “I can see your point”

  Mary held up her hand. “Enough about me. Tell me about your father,” Mary said. “I can’t imagine having a father.”

  “I won’t deny it was nice having loving parents. I guess I never realized how fortunate I was until hearing your story. According to my mother, I look a lot like my father. Everyone looked up to him.” Carter shifted to a more comfortable position. “And he doted on my mother.”

  “I could hear the affection in your mother’s voice when she spoke of him. How did he die?”

  “He came up on some rustlers hotfooting calves. Instead of going for help, he went charging up the hill toward the men. He was determined to run them off. You see, my father wasn’t afraid of anything.”

  “What’s hotfooting?”

  “It’s when rustlers take a hot iron and burn the calf between the toes, making its feet too sore to walk.”

  “How cruel. Why?”

  “So they will get lost from their mothers. It makes the strays easier to rustle. Anyway, my father must have surprised the four men. They all turned and fired at him.” Carter’s eyes flashed with sudden anger. It still made him angry to think of his tragic death. “He never stood a chance.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Mary whispered, her hand on her chest as if she felt his pain.

  “It taught me a very valuable lesson,” Carter said as he rose. “To always be cautious.” He glanced at the oil lamp, which gave off only the dimmest light. “The oil is getting low. I guess we should turn in.”

  Mary’s eyes were the darkest sapphire color. “Thank you for not leaving me locked up tonight You’ve made it easier.”

  Carter looked down at her upturned face. He saw the heartrending tenderness of her gaze. “I wish things were different”

  With their faces only inches apart, she whispered, “I do, too.”

  When Carter’s gaze fell to her lips, Mary felt her heart race. She tried to stop the dizzying current racing though her as his hands slipped up her arms, bringing her closer. She wound her arms around his neck in response.