by Linda Broday
When she arrived with Hector at the school promptly at eight o’clock, a few children already perched on the steps. Soon the routine of getting ready to teach swept the worry and fear from her mind.
By noon, Sierra still hadn’t been able to shake the worry from her mind. She had the children gather their lunch pails, and they walked to the elm tree for lunch under the wide branches. She couldn’t help glance at the corral in hopes of seeing Sam’s buckskin. When the animal wasn’t there, worry set in. Please don’t let a bullet find him.
Doubts rose to nag her, to make her question her decisions. How could she live as the wife of a lawman? Fear that he’d not return alive would rise each time he left.
And yet it was already death for her now without him.
* * *
Sam and his brothers were on edge crossing the land Stoker had lost gambling. The new owner had threatened to shoot them if they stepped foot on his property. The relationship between Stoker and Newt Granger was beyond prickly. Fair to say the two hated each other, and Stoker had put a bullet in Granger’s leg already during an argument over the land. The fact that headquarters, which once sat in the middle, was now on the western edge still stuck in Stoker’s craw.
They reached Lost Point without incident a little before noon. The town was as quiet as a tomb. Everyone probably still slept after being up all night doing whatever outlaws did.
He glanced at Luke. His brother would know. It had surprised Sam when he’d agreed to come with them. Sam had expected him to say no. Or expected him to be gone come daylight.
The thought ran through his mind that Luke was more than likely at home in dangerous places like this. His outlaw brother was one of them. They’d accept him, no questions asked.
They paused at the edge of town. Sam turned to Luke. “You ride in ahead. I don’t want anyone to know we’re together. We’ll split up and meet back here.”
“I’ll blend in. You stick out like a whore in church, Ranger.”
Though it bore truth, the image drew Sam’s frown. They waited until Luke tied up at the saloon before Sam led the way slowly to the mercantile halfway down the street. He and Houston dismounted at the hitching rail, glancing around. Without speaking, Sam opened the door, and they stepped inside.
The dim interior made it difficult to see clearly, but Sam made out an old woman hobbling painfully toward them on a pair of homemade crutches.
“Howdy, strangers,” she greeted them. “Are you lost?”
“No, ma’am.” Sam swallowed hard when he glanced down and spotted only one shoe below her dress. “I’m Sam Legend. This is my brother, Houston. I’m looking for someone.”
She cackled. “Ain’t we all?”
“He’s young, dark hair and eyes, comes to about my chin.” Sam tried to remember what Sierra said. “Rocky Hunt is a slight man with a thick black beard.” Sierra had said her brother never liked to be clean shaven. Of course, the outlaws might’ve done that to disguise him.
“Cain’t say as I recall. ’Course the way men come an’ go around here, I ain’t surprised. I’m Sally.”
Houston glanced around the dim store. “How about Felix Bardo, ma’am?”
Fear rippled across her wrinkled face. “Don’t mess with that one. He’ll cut out your gizzard an’ feed it to you faster ’n you can spit. He bears the blame for these crutches.”
Sam studied the terror darkening her eyes. Whatever her infraction had been, nothing was bad enough for the cruel punishment. “Mind if I ask what happened, ma’am?”
Sally licked her lips. “I burnt the bread. Got busy an’ forgot about it. I tried to run. He said he was gonna teach me a lesson.”
“Why do you stay, ma’am?” Sam asked quietly.
“No one leaves this place. No one escapes alive. No one.” She rested her hand on the counter. “Might I interest you in some homemade bread, Sam?”
Glancing at the wooden countertop that bore enough dirt to plant a garden, Sam almost shook his head. But he knew how much a few coins would mean to her.
Sam gave her a wink. “I’d love a loaf, ma’am. Fresh bread will be mighty tasty on the ride back to the Lone Star.”
Houston’s look said Sam had lost his mind. But as the woman hurried after it, he called, “Make that two, Miss Sally. My brother doesn’t share.”
The woman’s cackle echoed in the shabby store. Sam knew the money they’d pay her would make a lot of difference in her day.
They each walked out with a loaf of bread under their arms.
After stashing them in a saddlebag, Sam glanced toward the saloon. Luke’s horse was still at the hitching rail.
“What do you want to do now?” Houston asked.
“Let’s leave our horses here and see if we can find someone else in town to talk to us.”
At his brother’s nod, Sam moved toward a hotel that tilted to one side at a precarious angle. Except for the handful of nails holding it together, the thing would probably fall into a dust heap.
“What are you going to do with your bread, Sam? You’ll get lockjaw if you eat it.”
Sam shrugged. “Feed the birds, most likely.”
“I thought you’d lost your mind back there.”
“Never know when I might need a friend. She’s had a hard life and faces a bleak future.” Sam’s eyes narrowed at a flash in the grimy window of the barbershop.
“My thoughts exactly. She could come in handy.”
“Don’t look, but someone’s watching from the barbershop,” Sam warned. “The way the hair on my neck is twitching, whoever it is has a gun pointed at us.”
“I won’t make any sudden moves.”
At the hotel, Houston opened the door. Sam sauntered to the registration book. He was flipping through the pages when the sound of a rifle cocking reached him. When he glanced up, the barrel of a rifle poked through the curtains behind the counter.
“We don’t want any trouble.” Sam let his hand rest on the grip of his Colt.
“Then you’d best move on before I count to ten.”
“We only want to talk,” Houston said quietly.
“Not in the mood for shootin’ the breeze,” the voice behind the curtain snapped. “If Bardo catches you here, he’ll kill you. And then he’ll put a bullet between my eyes.”
“Don’t mean to cause problems. We’ll be going.” Sam backed to the door with Houston, turning only after they’d reached the street. “These people are terrified of Felix Bardo.”
“With good reason, it seems,” Houston agreed. “Now what?”
“Let’s get back to the horses.” On the way, Sam told his brother about the hotel register. “Only the first ten pages contained names, with the last entry a year ago. Everything after that was blank. I’m guessing that’s when Bardo came and took over the town.”
“Even though we didn’t find Miss Sierra’s brother, we seem to have come to the right place.” Houston’s leather chaps slapped against his legs with the long strides.
Sam nodded. “This town holds some powerful secrets.”
Houston pushed back his hat. “Do you think Rocky could’ve joined up with Felix Bardo?”
“The thought crossed my mind. Sierra mentioned that he fought demons.” If he did find that to be true, Sam didn’t know how he’d tell Sierra. It would finish her, and she’d already borne enough heartache and sorrow to last a lifetime. Hopefully, they were wrong. “Let’s see what Luke learned. That will decide our next move.”
Back at the mercantile, they mounted their horses and headed toward the edge of town to wait for their brother, hoping he’d gotten more than they had.
Though it went against the grain for Sam to pretend Luke was a stranger and not with them, he had no choice if they meant to come back.
Their return to Lost Point was a given. Rocky had to be here. Even without him as a
n incentive, Sam intended to clean out the nest of outlaws—for Sally, the man in the hotel, and any other law-abiding citizens.
He’d do it even if he wasn’t a Texas Ranger and Captain O’Reilly hadn’t asked him. Some men didn’t need to be asked to give decent folk back a safe place to live and work and raise their kids.
While they waited, Sam and Houston discussed how odd it was that they hadn’t seen any children.
“Maybe they were in school?” Houston said.
“I didn’t see any sign of a school,” Sam answered. “I think the parents are scared spitless to let their sons and daughters out of the house.”
“Could be right.”
Luke arrived, and they discussed what he’d found out. The barkeep told him Felix Bardo lived in the hotel and that Luke wouldn’t want to cross him. Seemed the mean outlaw kept a place somewhere outside of town and made two trips a day out to it.
“The barkeep once overheard the outlaws talking about Rocky Hunt but didn’t know where they kept him,” Luke said. “Bardo has gathered an army here. We’re going to need a lot more men to root out the evil from this place. It’ll take a lot more than the three of us.”
“Sounds like you crawled into bed with the guy, Luke.” Houston rested his elbow on the pommel. “Didn’t he get suspicious of all the questions?”
“I told him I was looking to join up with Bardo.” Luke grinned. “Said I had information about a shipment of gold. I’m guessing that will make the outlaw sit up and take notice.”
Sam chuckled. “You definitely know how to get someone’s attention.” He sent Luke a narrowed glance. “You’d better have made that up.”
“Stop worrying so much, hermano. Bet you didn’t know having a black sheep in the Legend family would come in handy.”
Houston drawled, “At least you don’t appear to have been dropped on your head like Sam. And you’re a whole bunch better looking.”
The way they joked put a lump the size of a river rock in Sam’s throat. He needed them, probably more than they needed him. Slowly, one day at a time, he was putting his life back together. He’d come awfully close to missing out on this deep bond between brothers. On meeting Sierra too.
“Let’s do some more scouting and see what else we can dig up before we go put together our own army. We need to get back here quick.”
“Lead the way, brother,” Houston said.
Thirty-four
After a long day, Sierra closed and locked the schoolhouse door. As she and Hector turned to go, she caught sight of a riderless horse galloping away. A little girl stood at the foot of the steps with her hands on her hips, staring forlornly after the animal.
Alice Graham awoke her motherly instincts. The girl was in the third grade and small for her age. She was far too young for the large red roan she had to ride to school. Sierra had learned that Alice’s mother had died, and her father worked as a ranch hand, which explained the girl’s appearance—uncombed hair, dirty clothes, and no lunch.
Sierra had shared hers, or Alice would’ve gone hungry. She longed to give the child’s father a piece of her mind. Except she knew how early the cowboys went to work and how late they got home. The man probably did his best.
Fat tears rolled down Alice’s face. Sierra hurried down the steps and put her arms around the girl. “It’s all right, sweetheart. I’ll borrow a wagon and take you home.”
“Thank you, Miss Hunt,” Alice whispered.
“Don’t worry.” She bent to gently wipe Alice’s face, then she kissed her forehead. “I know how it feels to try to be more grown-up than you are.”
Alice pressed tightly to Sierra, as though seeking a bit of warmth. The wind whistled through the elm tree, rustling the leaves while she let Alice gather herself.
“I don’t know where you live, so you’ll have to show me. Is it close?”
“No, ma’am. We live across the creek and over a ways.”
“I’ll find it. Come along, children.” She pointed Hector and Alice toward the stables.
The man there loaned her a wagon, and they soon rolled toward the Graham dwelling. The afternoon was pleasant, with puffy clouds resembling big snowbanks in the sapphire sky.
Neither child spoke. She was used to Hector’s silence, thanks to the language barrier. But shyness, she guessed, kept Alice’s lips sealed. The girl seemed more akin to a sorrowful old woman instead of a child. She was far too old for her tender years.
“Are you all right, Alice?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ll have you home before you know it.”
Following the girl’s directions, they moved farther and farther from headquarters. There was nothing but waves of tall grass and prairie dotted with mesquite. Sierra spied not one house anywhere upon the rolling landlocked sea.
“Are we getting close?”
“No, ma’am,” Alice said quietly. “Not much.”
Anger rose. What was her father thinking, taking her so far off from people? An eight-year-old needed playmates and laughter. Not having to ride a large horse she couldn’t handle, from such a distance in all kinds of weather. The man either didn’t think about what it was doing to his daughter or didn’t care.
Memories of her own father swept across her mind, and the days and nights when she yearned just to be a carefree little girl.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t see the water until the traces stopped jingling and the horses stopped. Panic raced through her, and her palms grew cold and clammy.
“Did we come the wrong way, Alice?” She hated the tremble in her voice.
“No, ma’am. This is the creek I told you about.”
A creek? It was more like a river. A deep river. She had to turn around and go back. They couldn’t get across in the wagon. They wouldn’t make it. Panic rose.
The face of her sister, Whitney, surfaced on the water, silently pleading. Sierra swallowed hard, but fear blocked her passageway. “You cross this each day on your horse?” she asked nervously.
“Yes, ma’am. It’s not so bad. He just swims across. Aren’t you going to go to my house now? You promised.” Alice’s eyes bubbled with tears, and her chin quivered. “The water isn’t so high. The wagon will make it.”
Sierra took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She couldn’t allow her fear to show in front of these children.
“Go,” Hector said, then followed with a quick spurt of Spanish. Even he was getting impatient and wondering about her.
Everyone you touch dies. Her father’s words echoed in her head.
She could do this. She had no choice. She was all Alice had. Sweat trickled down between her breasts. Taking a shaky breath, she flicked the reins and inched forward. It was deeper than she’d thought. Sheer terror gripped her as the water swirled around them and rose up through the cracks in the wood, wetting her shoes and dress.
God in heaven, please help me do this.
As they began to float, Hector jumped to his feet, flailing his skinny arms. Sierra didn’t know what the Spanish words meant, what he was trying to tell her.
“Sit down!” she yelled, panic-stricken. She tried to grab onto him but couldn’t reach him with Alice between them. Alice screamed, gripping Sierra’s hand with every bit of strength she had. This was the Brazos crossing all over again. Only this time she didn’t have Sam. There was no one to come to the rescue, and the river meant to claim them.
Suddenly, the wagon tipped at a sickening angle, tossing Hector into the rushing current. As he sank beneath the surface, fear squeezed around her heart as though it were a band of steel. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move. She was frozen in place, just like with Whitney.
Everything moved in slow motion. Finally, Hector’s face earlier as he’d stared up at her with trusting eyes released her from the icy nightmare’s grip. She was his whole world.
He needed her.
“Hector!” She clutched the side of the wagon box, staring at the paralyzing sight. “Hector!”
The boy’s dark head surfaced. “Ayuda!” he cried. “Help!”
Terror-stricken, she watched him vanish again from sight.
“Get him, Miss Hunt! Don’t let him die,” Alice yelled.
Sierra licked her dry lips. Her heart hammered so loudly she could barely hear. She tore at her shoes and the laces that held them. Kicking them off, she jumped in.
“I’m coming, Hector!”
She flailed her arms and kicked her feet like her brothers had instructed her so long ago. But her heavy skirts tangled about her legs. She slipped under the water. Her mouth filled as her hair floated across her eyes.
That this was just like Whitney’s last moments raced through her mind. Soon she would join her sister. In minutes, she would die. But she desperately wanted to live. She had to look into Sam’s eyes once more and see the love he had yet to voice.
Using the last of her strength, she began kicking and clawing at her watery tomb.
Suddenly arms lifted her up, and she breathed in great gulps of air.
“I’ve got you, Sierra,” said a man’s voice in her ear. “Put your arms around my neck.”
When she could focus, she stared into Sam’s face and those gray eyes she loved. He knelt over her. Maybe it was a dream she’d conjured up. He couldn’t possibly be there. He’d ridden off with his brothers.
She jerked, clutching his shirt. “Hector! I’ve got to save him. I can’t fail again.”
“Hector is fine. Houston has him, and Luke is with the little girl in the wagon.” He set her on dry ground and brushed wet tendrils of hair from her eyes.
“Sam, are you really real?”
He laughed. “I sure hope so. This water is too cold to be a dream.”
Tears sprang up as she sobbed, “I couldn’t get to Hector.”
“You tried so hard though. Lord, I’m very glad we happened along.” He slanted his lips on hers in a searing kiss.
Warmth sped through Sierra’s body as his arms tightened around her. Her shivering stopped. She didn’t know how or why he’d ridden upon them. She only knew if she was dead, she wanted to stay that way. They hadn’t spoken of love, and maybe they never would. What they had was enough. She would take Sam Legend without any promises, fancy words of commitment, or changed dreams.