The Heart's Charge

by Karen Witemeyer

  Mark lacked the energy even to imagine a full orchestral arrangement now, but he might manage the simple melody of a hymn. He tapped out the rhythm with his thumb, the clink of his manacles forming the percussion section. The tempo fell more into the adagio range than the andante the march-like piece called for, but it was the best he could do.

  At first he heard the melody as a trumpet call. Rich, majestic, regal. But when the chorus ended and he returned to the verse, it was Kate’s voice he heard, singing the lyrics to him in her sweet mezzo soprano.

  ’Tis the grandest theme thro’ the ages rung; ’Tis the grandest theme for a mortal tongue;

  ’Tis the grandest theme that the world e’er sung: Our God is able to deliver thee.

  He is able to deliver thee, He is able to deliver thee;

  Tho’ by sin opprest, Go to Him for rest; Our God is able to deliver thee.

  Ah, Kate. A tear squeezed through the crease of Mark’s closed eyelid. “The Lord giveth,” he whispered, “and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

  He drifted back into a hazy semiconscious state until something penetrated his fog.

  Pounding. Muffled voices.

  Mark’s eyes popped open. Were his ears playing tricks? Had he imagined—

  No! There it was again. Pounding. Joined this time by scraping. Dirt shifted above him and showered his face.

  “Here!” He yelled as loud as he could manage, which was a pathetic mewling cut off by a round of coughs. If only he had his bugle! Frustrated, he willed the hacking into submission, cleared his throat, and tried again. “Here! I’m here!”

  Silence was his only answer.

  Until . . .

  “Wallace?”

  Matt. Sweet Lord in heaven, it was Matt’s voice. He was here. And close.

  Mark lifted his head a few inches off the ground. “Here, Captain. I’m here!”

  A tear or two slid down his dirt-encrusted temples as his head fell back. Matthew Hanger was here, and nothing would stop the captain. Mark had never met a more reliable man.

  Thank you, God. Thank you.

  It didn’t take long for Captain Hanger to chop an air hole through the top of the debris blocking off the passage. It took longer for him, and those with him, to open it up wide enough to fit a man’s shoulders while not risking the stability of the mine shaft. Eventually, however, the captain wiggled his way through the opening and crawled down to where Mark lay.

  “Brooks!” Matt called. “Hand in a canteen.”

  At the sound of the name, Mark grabbed his former commander’s forearm, the chain resting on his chest clinking softly. “Jonah’s alive?”

  The captain, his face streaked with dirt and sweat, nodded. “He is. Banged up enough that Josie raked him over the coals when he wouldn’t let her tend him before digging you out, but he’s all in one piece.”

  Even as he gave the assurance, a brown hand with a canteen attached shoved through the hole. The captain patted Mark’s shoulder, then stepped away to fetch the water.

  “Those rocks better not have squashed your head, Wallace,” Jonah said from the other side of the hole. “You’re gonna need your wits to keep up with all the kids that’ll be swarmin’ Harmony House after this.”

  Mark lifted his head again and tried to wedge his elbows beneath him so he wouldn’t be flat on his back. “The boys?” He searched the captain’s face. “You got them out?”

  Hanger nodded. “About an hour ago. All six survived. No serious injuries. Josephine’s tending to them, and Miss Palmer is plying them with food and water. Speaking of water . . .” He held up the canteen. “Drink up, soldier. Can’t have you passin’ out in front of your woman. I understand there’s a wedding in the works.”

  The grin he flashed brought a touch of heat to Mark’s cheeks and a heap of pride to his heart. But before he could do more than nod, the captain had the canteen tipped and water flowing into Mark’s mouth.

  “She’s fine, by the way. Your Katherine. Jonah got to her in time. Took out Ortega. And Preach likely has the others in custody by now as well.”

  Mark coughed on his water, then shoved the canteen aside. He reared up as far as his rock blanket would allow. “What happened to Kate?” he roared.

  “Now you done it, Cap.” Jonah’s voice floated through the slowly widening hole. “Good luck getting that cat back in the bag.”

  “Calm down, Wallace. She’s fine. Brave little thing,” the captain said as he screwed the lid back on the canteen and frowned down at Mark’s manacles. “Brooks? Get one of the men to search that Dorsey fellow up top for a key to these manacles.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Mark didn’t care about the chains. “Tell me what happened to Kate.”

  Hanger shrugged. “Don’t know all the details. All I know is she figured out who was behind the snatching and went to confront them sometime in the middle of the night. It’s ’cause of her that Jonah and Miss Southerland knew where to send the search party to start lookin’ for the mine. Finding Gabe Dorsey at the depot with your horse just helped us pinpoint the passages. The townsfolk had already spotted the caved-in entrance and started digging out the debris by the time we dragged his sorry hide up here.”

  Mark’s head fell back to the ground. Ortega had had Kate? Lord have mercy. “She could have been killed.” The words escaped in a broken whisper. The very idea so terrified him, he could barely breathe.

  Hanger grabbed his shoulder. “But she wasn’t. The Good Lord took care of both of you last night. Now, what do you say we quit frettin’ over what might have been and start workin’ on gettin’ you outta here?”

  And back to Kate. So he could wring her neck. Or more likely kiss her senseless. Yeah, kissing was definitely the better option. Though Mark was probably the one who’d end up senseless. He was halfway there already.

  After an hour of shifting, shoveling, and chiseling, Mark finally escaped the mountain’s hold. His legs hurt like the dickens, but they worked, so with the captain propping him up on one side and Jonah on the other, Mark hobbled through the man-made tunnel to the base of the vertical shaft that led to freedom. As Captain Hanger worked on the rigging to haul him up, Mark turned to Jonah and wrapped his friend in a hug. He thumped his back twice, then stepped back.

  “Glad you’re alive, Brooks.”

  Jonah grinned. “Me too.”

  Mark chuckled, then grew serious. He clasped Jonah’s shoulder. “There aren’t words enough to thank you for what you did for Kate. I’ll be wanting the full story later, but know that I’m in your debt for life.”

  Jonah dipped his chin. “Abner and Rawley did most of the heavy lifting. I just showed up for the last hurrah.”

  Mark knew what that meant, as well as the cost such an act would demand from his friend. All the Horsemen understood the price of war. “Well, I, for one, am glad you were there.”

  The captain extended him a rope tied into a harness of sorts. “Ready, Wallace?”

  To get out of this pit? To see his beautiful Kate? To finally start their life together? “More than ready, sir.”

  He took the rope in his hands, and with Matt and Jonah keeping him from toppling over, he fit his legs through the holes and sat across the knotted middle. The captain called up to the surface, and the rope started hauling him upward. When he reached the top, a pair of men swung him to the side and extricated him from the harness. Donaldson from the livery wrapped an arm around Mark’s waist and started walking him away from the mine while the others stayed to haul up the other men.

  Applause suddenly broke out. Kids cheered. Wart and his sister ran toward him hand in hand. Abner. Rawley. Even Floyd looked relieved to see him. But it was Kate’s voice shouting his name that riveted him in place.

  “Mark!” She leapt up from where she’d been helping one of the boys, grabbed a handful of skirt, and ran straight for him.

  He untangled himself from a chuckling Donaldson and limped forward on his own power, all his energy f
ocused on Kate. Tears streaming down her cheeks, windblown hair frizzing around her face, clothes dust-laden, and quiet sobs hiccupping through her—she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

  When she reached him, he didn’t waste any energy on words. His mouth had much more important work to do. He wrapped one arm around her waist and used the other to cup her face and lift her lips to his. His mouth slanted over hers with desperation, with thanksgiving, and with pure joy over the two of them being alive. Her arms pressed into his back, holding him tight. She lifted up on her toes to meet him, her enthusiasm in returning his kiss kicking his pulse into a full gallop.

  Whoops and whistles penetrated Mark’s consciousness and, regretfully, he pulled back. Not far, though. He might be able to find the strength to stop kissing her while on public display, but he didn’t have the strength to let go of her. Not yet. So he held her close, her face nestled against his chest, their breathing ragged yet perfectly synchronized.

  He dipped his chin and laid a kiss on her hair. “I love you, Kate.”

  She tipped her face back to meet his gaze, her glistening blue eyes shining in the afternoon sun. “I love you too. And I’m never letting you go again. Never.”

  He grinned. “That makes two of us.”

  Later that evening, Jonah slipped out of the crowded parlor of Harmony House and into the cool breeze. Hearing tales of today’s exploits over and over was wearing his patience thin, though he knew the fault lay with him, not the dozen kids crammed into the parlor. He just needed a few minutes of quiet. He was tired. And sore. And to be honest, a little worried about how things had gone with the sheriff in Llano. Preach still hadn’t made it back yet with his report.

  Dr. Jo and Miss Katherine were upstairs fussing over Wallace, concerned he might have a fracture in his left leg. The leg continued to pain him hours after his rescue, but Dr. Jo was sure nothing was out of alignment. She wanted to splint it anyway and had ordered Wallace not to put weight on it for a couple of weeks. Poor bugger. No riding or even much walking. Jonah would go stir-crazy if it were him, but he doubted Wallace would mind having an excuse to hang around the house with Katherine for the next several days.

  Jonah rested his arms on the porch railing and released a heavy breath. A movement in the shadows on the ground below him caught his attention. Rawley. The kid sat on the dirt with his back propped against one of the porch piers. He’d snuck out of the house a few minutes before Jonah. Truth be told, his leaving was what had given Jonah the idea to make his own escape. Jonah had been wanting to talk with the kid anyway. Preferably before Rawley’s itchy feet drove him to leave town. With the snatcher situation dealt with, the boy had no reason to stick around.

  Yet.

  “You on the hunt for fresh air too?” Rawley asked, tipping his head back to meet Jonah’s gaze.

  “Yep.” Jonah pushed away from the railing and took a seat on the steps. “And I wanted to talk to you. Got a proposition for ya.”

  “Yeah?” The boy rose and joined Jonah on the steps.

  Jonah smiled inwardly even though his face remained impassive. “I’m thinkin’ about buying the old Garvey spread a quarter mile north of here. Ain’t nothin’ fancy, but it’s got a cabin, a barn, and a small bunkhouse. Was thinkin’ of setting down some roots and maybe running a few head of cattle.”

  Rawley waggled his eyebrows. “You’re fixin’ to court Miss Eliza, aren’t ya?”

  Jonah didn’t fight to hide his smile this time. “Yep.”

  “Thought so.”

  They shared a grin, and then Jonah braced his forearms across his knees and knit his hands together. “I was hopin’ you might consider stickin’ around,” he said, turning his attention to his hands, not wanting the boy to feel pressured one way or the other. “I’ll need a foreman. You’re a mite young for the job at the moment, but you’d grow into it. I got a whopping lot of learnin’ to do myself. Never ranched before. But two smart fellas like ourselves who ain’t afraid of hard work ought to be able to figure out how to make a go of it.”

  Rawley was quiet for a long while. Jonah snuck a peek at him from the corner of his eye. The kid looked like someone had turned him to stone.

  Finally, Rawley spoke. “W-what about my boys? I can’t just leave ’em. . . .”

  “A ranch can always use more hands. I wouldn’t be able to pay ’em much, but they’d have food to eat, a roof over their heads, and honest work to keep ’em outta trouble.” He shrugged. “’Course, Miss Eliza will probably insist on fillin’ all of ya with book learning too. It may not be as fun as ridin’ the rails, but education will take a man farther in life than any train.”

  Rawley twisted on the step. Jonah straightened and turned to meet his gaze. “Can I think about it?”

  Jonah nodded. “Take as long as you need.”

  The boy nodded solemnly, grabbed the railing at his side, and hoisted himself up. “Thanks for the offer, Mr. Brooks.”

  “Thanks for considerin’.”

  Rawley wandered off toward the barn to ponder. Jonah stayed on the steps, thinking he’d pray for a bit. Maybe watch the sunset. The clouds were just starting to turn pink. A silhouette against the dusky sky, however, caught Jonah’s eye and sharpened his attention. Toward the road. He stood in anticipation, his chest clutching slightly.

  He raised a hand in greeting as Preach approached the house, a sleeping Abner tossed over one shoulder.

  The quiet click of a shoe heel on the porch behind him brought Jonah’s head around. Eliza stepped away from the shadows of the outside wall and came to stand on the step behind him. She placed her hands on his shoulders, the gentle, possessive touch sending waves of pleasure through him.

  “You look good holding a sleeping child, Mr. Davenport,” she said. “You practicing to be a family man?”

  Preach chuckled softly. “Not me, ma’am. I’m too wild to settle down.”

  “Who says family men have to be tame?” Eliza responded. “The right woman might like a little wild in her man.”

  Preach stared at her as if she’d just spoken in a foreign language. All Jonah could think about was whether or not she liked a little wild in her man. It made him glad his complexion hid the fire flushing his face.

  Determined to reroute the conversation before his blood warmed any further, Jonah jerked his chin toward Preach. “How’d it go in Llano?”

  “Took a bit of doing, but Miss Gordon and her brother are in custody. Sheriff Porter is comin’ to Kingsland tomorrow to get your statement and one from Miss Palmer. He’ll collect the body and conduct an investigation, but with Ortega’s reputation as an outlaw, the sheriff don’t expect any trouble clearing you.”

  Eliza’s hands tightened on Jonah’s shoulders, and her heartfelt murmur echoed above him. “Thank the Lord.”

  Preach mounted the steps, thumping Jonah on the arm as he squeezed past. “I better get this boy to bed. He’s tuckered out.”

  Jonah expected Eliza to show his fellow Horseman into the house and had already braced himself for the disappointment of her leaving, but she surprised him by simply giving Preach directions.

  “First room at the top of the stairs. His bed is behind the door on the right. Katherine is upstairs with Mr. Wallace and Dr. Hanger. She can assist you.”

  Preach tipped his hat. “Thank ya, ma’am.”

  Once the door closed behind him, Eliza came around to Jonah’s side and lowered herself to sit on the steps. Figuring he better follow suit, he bent his knees and joined her.

  “How, ah, long you been out here?” Had she overheard his entire conversation with Rawley?

  She dipped her chin, a shy smile curving her lips. “Nearly as long as you. I followed you out, hoping we might have that long conversation you alluded to earlier.”

  Jonah’s gut tightened. The conversation prompted by her saying she loved him. His mind had replayed that moment about a thousand times today. But where to start? He hadn’t a clue. Thankfully, Eliza was smart enough for the bot
h of them.

  “So, the old Garvey place, huh? Sounds almost permanent.” She nudged his shoulder with hers.

  He nudged her back, scooting his hips over in the process so that the length of his right side pressed up against her left. Man, she felt good against him.

  “Thought I’d make my daddy happy,” he said. “Buy some land. Court a good woman. Lay down some roots.”

  Eliza lifted her face, the look in her deep brown eyes making his heart pound. “You got any particular woman in mind?”

  “Maybe. Not sure she’ll have me, though. She’s my better in nearly every way.”

  Her brows lifted. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Oh, it’s true, all right. She’s smarter, kinder, and a whole lot better lookin’.”

  She leaned close and whispered a secret in his ear, the breath of air sending shivers dancing across his skin. “I hear she’s terrible with horses.”

  He turned his face toward her, his lips a mere hairsbreadth from hers. “I don’t know. I have it on good authority she rode a cavalry officer’s warhorse all the way to Packsaddle Mountain and back. A ride like that takes skill.”

  “Or massive motivation.” Her gaze darted to his mouth then back up to his eyes. “A little birdie told me she only did it to save the man she loved.”

  Jonah angled his body toward her and reached for her face. “Same bird told me that fella’s been fallin’ for her since the day they shared a wagon ride out to Miss Georgia’s homestead.”

  “That long, huh?” Her soft, husky voice fragmented his pulse.

  “Yep. I hear tell he’s so far gone, a minute can’t pass without him thinkin’ of her. Thinkin’ about holding her.” He ran his thumb over her cheekbone. “Kissing her.” His thumb moved to her mouth and brushed over her bottom lip.

  Her breath caught. “Maybe he should quit thinking and start doing.”

  Jonah grinned, slow and deep. “Have I told you how much I love that bossy streak of yours?”