Texan's Irish Bride

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Texan's Irish Bride Page 20

by Clemmons, Caroline


  Da stepped from the house with his rifle cradled in the crook of his arm. “Weel, there’s no call to get yourself in a twist.”

  “Who the hell are you?” Bateman started to say more but took a step back when he saw the firearm.

  “Mrs. McClintock is me daughter, and I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head or be gone. Now, what’s this about a horse o’ yours me good son-in-law promised you?”

  Bateman thrust the paper at Da. “It’s there plain as can be.”

  Da kept the paper and sent a warning glare. “Wait where you stand, man, while I talk to me daughter.”

  Da took Cenora’s arm, and they walked a few yards away. They kept Bateman in sight while they conferred.

  “What does it say, Da?”

  “Weel, let me see. Aye, appears ‘tis a bill of sale your man signed, and here’s the horse’s name. Cy ...Cyclo. I can’t make it out, lass, but it brings to mind something I’ve seen written in the barn.”

  “Let’s go where the names show on the stalls. Mayhap we’ll find the one that matches.”

  “Aye, that’ll do.”

  They walked back to Bateman and Cenora said, “Wait here, and we’ll get the horse.”

  Placated, the man crossed his arms and stood by his mount.

  Cenora and her father walked down the line of stalls. A new sign showed for Queenie, and Dallas had taught Cenora the letters and sounds to read it. She knew some of the other horses by name even though she couldn’t read all the signs yet.

  Da stopped and held the bill of sale up to a stall. “Here’s one that matches. Look”—he ran his finger on the page he held next to the stall’s sign—”C. Y. C. L.O. N. E. Sure and ‘tis the right one.”

  Cenora hesitated. Dallas had only worked with her a few evenings, so she hadn’t learned much yet, especially when it came to reading fancy scrolls instead of the neat letters in a book.

  “It’s not exactly the same, Da.” Cenora looked over his arm. “See that squiggle at the end there?”

  “Aye. Weel, mayhap it looks different because this paper is written out and the sign on the stall is printed.”

  She hesitated, unable to decide about the squiggle, and then shrugged. “I don’t think so, but you know more o’ reading. You decide, Da.”

  “To my mind, ‘tis the one.” Da opened the stall door and slipped a halter on the mare. A real beauty, she came without a fuss.

  They led her where Bateman waited. He narrowed his eyes. “This the horse you want me to take?”

  “Aye, ‘tis the one on your paper.” Da handed him the bill of sale.

  Cenora expected him to examine the horse, maybe ride the mare around the yard. Instead, Bateman appeared almost exhilarated and in a rush to be away.

  Faster than she would have imagined possible, he tied a rope to the halter and tethered it to his pommel. Then, he swung into the saddle. “Well, then. I’ll be on my way.”

  Even though she disliked him, she remembered this man might be her husband’s friend as well as a customer.

  “You’re welcome for coffee and a bite, sir.”

  “No, no. I’ll be on my way.” He tipped his hat and rode off.

  She hugged her father. “We handled that fine, didn’t we?”

  He beamed with pleasure. “Aye, your man will be that proud o’ us when he comes back.”

  When Mac and Fred arrived home after dark, Cenora and her father hurried to the barn to help Fred.

  Even in lantern light, Fred looked ready to keel over. His bandaged arm hung in a sling around his neck. The white bandage matched his pale face, and his lips thinned with pain. He dismounted with Mac’s help and sagged onto a stack of feed sacks.

  Cenora touched his good arm. “We’ll get you to your bed and feed you, Fred.”

  Mac stripped the saddle off their horses while he related the journey. “Kathryn was at a birthing, so the doctor in town set Fred’s arm. His shoulder’s not broken.”

  Fred sagged against the wall behind him and closed his eyes. “Forgot that man was due to pick up his mare. He come?”

  Da fair strutted. “Aye, that he did, and we delivered the animal quick as a wink.”

  Fred exhaled but didn’t look up. “Good. Dallas wanted Cyclops ready on time. I meant to brush her down afore Batemen got here. Guess it don’t matter now.”

  “Cy—Cyclops?” Da looked at Cenora. “Lessee, that don’t sound just right. “We looked at the bill of sale and matched it to the sign on the stall, though.”

  Fred opened his eyes and tried to stand. He sank back to his seat. “If you could help me here, maybe I’d better check.”

  Cenora and Da helped him stand and supported him while he walked toward the stall.

  “No, ‘tis over here,” Cenora tried to turn Fred.

  “No, this here’s Cyclops stall, and she’s here.” Fred walked to stop at the stall where a beautiful mare looked over the gate. An unusual white oval marked her nose just above her eyes.

  Fred frowned. “Which horse did you send?”

  The bottom fell out of Cenora’s stomach. She pointed to the empty stall two down the row. “There, that’s the one.”

  He grasped the wood for support and gave the horse a pat on the strange marking.

  Then Cenora peered at the sign on the stall. It looked almost the same as the one further down, except it had the squiggle hanging down at the end. She heard a loud wail and realized she’d made the keening sound. “We tried so hard. The man was hateful and wouldn’t wait.”

  Fred met her gaze. “He wouldn’t, would he? Cyclone’s the one he wanted in the first place, but Dallas won’t sell her. She’s carrying Dominion’s foal.”

  “Now, lass, mayhap ‘tis not bad.” Da’s frown gave lie to his words. “Mayhap we can straighten this out afore Dallas gets back. I’ll take Mac with me, and Fred can give us directions.”

  No wonder that awful man had been in such a rush to leave. He feared they’d discover their mistake and change the horse.

  Fred shook his head. “Might be best to let Dallas handle it. Bateman’s high tempered all right.”

  Cenora couldn’t stop the tears streaming. “We’ve ruined his plans. He’ll send me away for sure now.”

  Tears blinded her, but she heard Fred’s soft words. “Now, Miz McClintock, don’t take on. Dallas sure sets a store by you. It’ll be okay, you’ll see.”

  She shook her head, for her sobs prevented words. The mare carried a foal by Dominion, the horse Dallas planned to use to build his future. What could be worse?

  ****

  Tom Williams glared at Mac. “You’re not throwing in with the fool are you?”

  Mac set down his whiskey. “I tell you, the buffer’s got two dogs to sound the alarm. Sure and you see that I can’t be causing any more problems. Me family will know I’m to blame, and I’ll have to leave.”

  “I say you’ve thrown in with the fool.” When Mac started to rise in protest, Tom waved him back down. “What else’s been happening?”

  Mac related the tragedies of the rustlers, the injured men, and of giving the wrong horse to the buyer.

  Tom laughed. “Couldn’t have thought of a better plan meself. But why would Cenora and your da attempt the delivery. If your da wasn’t sure o’ the words, why didn’t they wait for help?”

  “The man insisted he’d come too far to wait.” Proud of his new skill, Mac puffed out his chest a bit. “Buffer’s teaching us all to read of an evening. Da knew how to read print o’ course, but he’s learning more o’ the scrawls made by pen.”

  Tom slammed his drink on the table. “You mean Cenora’s learning as well?”

  “Shhh.” Mac glanced at those who’d turned to stare at Tom’s outraged roar. “Aye, even Ma. Dallas says it’ll help Ma pass time to read books while she’s recovering.”

  “Dallas says? I say women got no business reading. Gives them fancy idees, and they start feeling above their man.” He pointed a beefy finger at Mac. “When Cenora’s mine,
there’ll be none o’ that reading nonsense.”

  Mac wished he could disappear. The more he met with Tom, the more he wished he never had to see the leader o’ the traveling folk again. For sure he knew he didn’t want his sister anywhere near the man. But Mac had to stay in good with Tom if he wanted Vourneen, and Lord above help him, how he needed Vourneen. Desire for her burned in him night and day. He’d not had a peaceful night’s rest in longer than he cared to recount.

  “It’s been time, Tom. You promised Vourneen would be mine. ‘Tis not my fault the buffer got watch dogs and sentries.”

  Tom leaned back and crossed his arms. “Never you mind. Our deal was for you to create enough losses to ruin the fool and make Cenora come to her senses. True he’s had some setbacks, but none were your doing. You’ve not carried out our bargain. Far as I’m concerned, you can forget about Vourneen.”

  Anger overcame Mac’s fear of Williams. “No, she belongs with me.”

  Williams swigged the rest of his drink and stood. “Don’t come around the wagons unless it’s to tell me you’ve ruined the fool. I’ll see me sister knows I don’t want you seeing me niece.” He turned and stomped out of the saloon.

  Mac refused to give up Vourneen. Much as he feared Tom Williams, he would find a way to marry Vourneen and keep her with him forever. But how? He’d study on it while he painted a bit on the Wilson’s house. He hoped it didn’t rain again before he finished and collected his money—for several reasons.

  ****

  Cenora had slept little the previous night. Since discovering her horrible mistake yesterday, she hadn’t stopped worrying. This morning she cleaned the house and wondered if she would be allowed to remain. Sure and Dallas was a good man, but she’d ruined his plans for the future. How could she make this up to him?

  She and Da had finished the chores and still she paced. Mac returned from town in time to milk the cow and shut the hens in their coop for the night. At least she knew her brother had worked, for he appeared at the table still covered in paint splatters from his job.

  Now Da and Mac entertained Ma while Cenora paced in the family parlor. Val and Sol barked before she heard the sound of a horse and buggy. She called to her family then hurried out the door and peered into the setting sun.

  Daniel drove the rig and when he stopped, he and Kathryn climbed down.

  Mac stepped off the porch and took the reins. “Sure and you’ve driven the poor thing until she’d lathered. I’ll see to her.”

  Daniel looked at his mother. “Thanks, I’d best take care of Mama soon as I fetch her bag. She’s in a state.”

  Fred appeared from the bunkhouse and walked with Mac to the barn.

  Kathryn took Cenora’s hand, and Cenora knew a terrible thing had occurred. She shook her head in denial. It must be Dallas or Finn. Her legs threatened to give way.

  Kathryn met her gaze. “Dallas’s been hurt. Let’s all go inside.” She guided Cenora into the house.

  Cenora dimly registered that Daniel and Da followed.

  “How bad is he hurt? Is he shot?” Cenora fought panic. She must keep all her wits, but she could hardly walk let alone think. “You look done in, but please tell me what’s happened to me husband.”

  Kathryn sank to an armchair and took out a handkerchief to blot at her face. “From what I learned, it must be a sort of battle fatigue—the kind soldiers in the War sometimes experienced. I suppose it’s all to do with what happened to him a couple of years ago.”

  “Was the battle with the rustlers so fierce then? And what happened a couple of years ago?” Cenora noticed Kathryn looked done in from her frantic ride and her own worry.

  “I’ll leave Dallas to tell you about the past. This time a rustler almost shot Austin. It must have reminded Dallas of...well, a previous incident, and he froze. Daniel rode in to tell me and said Dallas can’t speak or move.” She sobbed into her handkerchief. “He just stares into space. Austin and Finn and Josh are bringing him.”

  Da appeared with a glass of water, and she took it from him. “Thank you, Brendan. I could use something stronger if you have it.”

  “Aye, we could all use a nip after this news.” He headed for his stash of jugs in the pantry.

  Daniel patted his mother’s shoulder. “I’ll take your bag up and turn down the bed, Mama. They should be here soon.”

  “How soon?” Cenora looked from Daniel to Kathryn.

  Kathryn sniffed and dabbed at her eyes. “Daniel was to tell us they’d be here before dark or soon after. They had to ride slowly so Dallas wouldn’t fall off his horse. Apparently, Finn and Josh are on each side of him so Austin can lead Red.”

  Daniel left, and Cenora heard him take the stairs at a run. “They’ll be hungry, won’t they? And tired. I can have food ready for your good husband and son and me brother. Mayhap Dallas will be able to eat as well.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t think so.” Kathryn rose and followed her to the kitchen. “I’ll help. We need to keep busy.”

  “Aye, else I’ll go mad with worry. The poor man. I should have known the nightmares were a bad sign.”

  “He told Austin they were better, not so many since you and he wed.”

  Cenora paused and faced Kathryn. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, how often did he have them before?”

  Kathryn nodded. “Almost every night, no matter how hard he worked during the day to tire himself.”

  Thinking her heart might break for the sorrow inside her husband, Cenora busied herself slicing cold meat, bread, and delving into stores for cheese, pickles, and fruit. “He has the dreams about once every week or ten days now. Bad they are, and he wakes calling out.”

  “Hasn’t he told you what causes them?”

  Cenora shook her head. “He says only that he can’t bring himself to talk about it yet.” She glanced at Kathryn and chanced a guess. “I thought it might have something to do with the woman in town.”

  When Kathryn gasped and turned away, Cenora figured she’d hit the mark.

  She stepped forward and laid her hand on Kathryn’s arm. “Kathryn?”

  But Kathryn wouldn’t give details. “I know you deserve an explanation, but we’ve all sworn not to talk about it. He’ll explain if he—” She sat at the table and put her hands in her face, apparently unable to continue.

  Cenora sat beside her and hugged the older woman’s shoulders. “I know ‘tis bad, but he’s a strong man. You didn’t see him when he was shot saving me. Many would have died. It took Da, both me brothers, and meself holding him down so Ma could dig out the bullets.”

  Kathryn sobbed into her hands. “No, you don’t understand about these cases. Sometimes they never—”

  Cenora sprang up. “Do you hear horses?”

  Both women hurried outside. Daniel, Da, and Mac came running. Mac and Da each carried a lantern. Ma came out and held to the porch pillar for support. Fred came from the bunkhouse to stand beside the others.

  The sun had set and only a faint tinge of light held at the western hills’ horizon. Austin rode in front with Finn and Josh flanking Dallas. Austin dismounted and turned to help Josh with Dallas. Finn took Dallas’s foot from the stirrup then came around Red, and the three men carried Dallas into the house.

  Cenora rushed to her husband. “Dallas, we’ve been that worried about you.”

  He made no move to indicate he heard or saw her, only stared at a distant point as if he saw nothing. When Cenora helped with the funeral for Tom William’s wife, she’d seen the same stare on the corpse. It had frightened Cenora then. On her husband, it terrified her.

  Mac and Brendan excused themselves to help Fred with the horses. Daniel helped Austin, Josh, and Finn carry Dallas up the stairs and to his own bed. They laid him out, and he stared at the ceiling, still without a sound.

  Cenora leaned over him. “Dallas, ‘tis scaring me you are. Say something to me, anything atall.” She couldn’t stop her tears. They flowed like a waterfall.

  Kathryn pulled her away. “He can’t, C
enora. Let the men get him out of his clothes. After that, we’ll clean him up a bit, and I’ll give him some laudanum. At least then he’ll sleep.”

  “Do you think mayhap he hears us?”

  Kathryn shook her head. “I don’t know. In battle fatigue, sometimes they hear and sometimes not.”

  Josh looked up. “Battle fatigue? You mean like that crazy old man Sparks—” An elbow in the ribs from Austin silenced Josh. He flushed red and bent to remove Dallas’s boots.

  Kathryn picked up the pitcher. “I’ll get some fresh water.”

  Cenora took it from her and returned it to the washstand. “No, ‘tis meself who’ll get warm water and bring it. You stay and see to doctoring Himself.”

  She hurried to the kitchen, where Ma and Da conferred at the table.

  Ma rose. “Ah, lass, what can we do to help?”

  Cenora brushed the tears from her face. “There’s nothing to be done, Ma. ‘Tis like a statue he is.” She wiped her face with her sleeve and drew a pail of hot water. “You and Da may as well go to bed. Kathryn will do what she can, and I’ll stay with him.”

  Da put his arm around Ma. “Come, love, let’s get you to bed.” He stopped and faced Cenora. “Mac’s gone to ready the wagons for him and Finn. He said they’d give over their beds to your man’s family.”

  The simple kindness from her troublesome brother almost finished Cenora. Her tears flowed until she could scarce see, but she carried the bucket and grabbed a handful of towels.

  From the doorway Ma called back, “You’ve only to call us, and we’ll come, lass.”

  “There’s nothing you can do. Oh, Ma, I fear there’s nothing anyone can do.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dallas awoke with a sense of loss. What had happened to him? Somehow he had arrived home, for he now lay stretched out in his own bed wearing not a stitch of clothes. He had no recollection of the ride here, nor of being taken to his room and undressed.

  His wife sat beside him, her chair drawn close to the bed. Tears stained her face, and dark circles shadowed her eyes. She held his hand cradled in both of hers. When she saw him watching her, she squeezed and kissed his palm.

 

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