Dorothy Garlock - [Colorado Wind 03] (10 page)

“Ma’am, he ain’t my pa.”

“Oh, my!” Ellie’s hands twisted in her apron. She hadn’t thought it strange at all for Mary Ben to speak of her father as Mr. Wisner. Many women referred to their husbands in that formal manner.
Husband?
“Oh, my goodness!” Ellie said again, and her hands dropped the apron as she stared at the young girl.

Mary Ben was puzzled. She didn’t understand why Mrs. Hill stared at her so strangely. Had she done something wrong? Did this mean Mrs. Hill didn’t like her anymore? It had gotten so easy to talk to her she just talked and talked. She’d been running off at the mouth. That’s what it was, she realized, and Mrs. Hill didn’t like it. She clamped her lower lips between her teeth and her brows drew together in a worried frown.

Ellie saw her distress and the way her body tensed as if to turn and run. The shy little creature was very perceptive. The distaste she had felt at the thought of this child being the wife of that grizzled old man—regardless of how kind he had been to them—had run rampant across her face and the girl had seen it.

“I’m just surprised, Mary Ben.” Ellie smiled, although she didn’t feel like it. She was desperate to put the girl at ease again. “I’d just taken it for granted Mr. Wisner was your father. But many young girls marry older men.”

“We ain’t married, but I would’ve if he’d awanted me to. Mr. Wisner’s the best man I ever knowed.”

“I see.” There was a silence while Ellie jabbed a fork in the stew. “Well . . . the meat’s done, we can eat anytime. Here come the men. Set out the plates, Mary Ben, and I’ll call Vanessa.”

The daylight disappeared while they ate, replaced by the tongues of color licking up from the glowing logs of the campfire into the surrounding darkness. Vanessa and Ellie sat on chairs and Henry and Mary Ben on the ground with the yellow dog between them. John sat on a log well back from the campfire. He and Henry took second helpings, and Ellie lifted the iron pot and what was left of the stew away from the fire and covered it.

Vanessa listened to the crackle of the fire. The warmth was inviting and the smell of the smoke was pleasant. She watched Henry and Mary Ben. Henry had never seemed happier. It scared her a little to think that maybe he was getting too fond of Mary Ben. Sometimes she had to stop and think that he was a man with physical urges the same as any other. The girl looked at him often when he wasn’t looking at her. Vanessa couldn’t blame her for that. Henry was an extremely handsome young man. Having grown up with him, she seldom thought of that, either. She would have loved him just as much if he had been fat and ugly. It was his sweet nature that was so endearing.

Vanessa had to admit that Mary Ben was wonderfully patient with Henry. She answered his questions and didn’t talk to him as if he were a child, like some people did. She seemed to be more at ease with Henry than with her and Ellie.

Mary Ben’s eyes strayed often to Vanessa. They had exchanged very few words. Mary Ben shied away from her, not knowing what to say. Even in shirt and pants she was the prettiest woman Mary Ben had ever seen. The firelight shone on her hair, reminding Mary Ben of a bright new penny. She looked down at her own faded, patched dress and the toe peeking through the end of her shoe. She had always been too busy trying to get enough to eat or stay out of the reach of men who tried to grab her to worry about how she looked. Just to be decently covered had been enough.

Mister raised his head and stared into the darkness. Mary Ben placed her hand on his neck and felt him shiver. The dog lowered his sagging jowls to her lap, his eyes riveted to the spot in the darkness at the end of their wagon. He continued to shiver as she stroked his head.

John got up and carried his plate and cup to the pan of water beside the fire. Mary Ben made a small hissing sound to get his attention as he passed. She patted Mister’s head with one hand; the other hand fluttered up to push back her hair, a finger pointing toward the darkness beyond their wagon. The old man made no sign that he’d gotten the message.

“Them vittles was mighty larrupin’ ’n plumb fillin’, ma’am. I’ll mosey on out ’n see to the stock. Mary Ben, I reckon ya ort a turn in.”

Vanessa turned to look at the girl when she got to her feet. Mary Ben stared straight into her puzzled eyes, then rolled hers in the direction she had indicated to John. Comprehension dawned and Vanessa stood. Her knees began to tremble, then spread to the muscles in her legs as tension came over her. Would they never know peace again?

“What? Who?” she mouthed.

Mary Ben lifted her shoulders. “Somebody.” She bent down and pulled some of the larger sticks of wood from the fire and the blaze died down.

“We don’t even take time to visit,” Ellie said disgustedly, and carried the dishpan to the shelf on the side of the wagon.

Henry was disappointed. He had looked forward to spending the evening with Mary Ben. He threw the rest of his coffee in the fire and stood up. It suddenly occured to him that something had happened and they were not telling him. Vanessa was whispering to his mother, and she had a frightened, serious look on her face. Why didn’t they tell him what was going on? He moved a step closer to Mary Ben and looked down on her bent head.

“What’s going on, Mary Ben? Why did John tell you to turn in?”

She looked up into his face and saw the confusion in his eyes. “Mister heard somebody prowlin’ around ’n Mr. Wisner’s gone to see about it,” she whispered. “He said for me to turn in cause it ain’t a good idey for us all to be bunched up this a way. I’ll go to the wagon, ’n it’d be good if ya sit right here till Mr. Wisner comes back.”

She searched his eyes to see if he understood. Seconds passed. She held her breath for fear he’d repeat in a loud voice what she had said. Then the confused look faded from his eyes and a smile began to twitch at his lips. The corners of his eyes crinkled. He was breathtakingly handsome. But it was much more than his looks that made Mary Ben’s heart flood with a happiness that shone in the brilliant smile she returned. For just an instant they were united in an understanding that included just the two of them.

A surge of pleasure rushed through Henry when he saw her smile. Mary Ben liked him! She told him things. Suddenly he threw an arm around her shoulders. The hug he gave her was a wholesome, friendly gesture, but Mary Ben didn’t understand that. She froze. Touching to her was grabbing, pinching, and wanting to pull her clothes off.

Henry’s arm dropped from around her and his large hands gripped her shoulders without his knowing she was on the verge of panic.

“You be careful, hear? Don’t worry. I’ll be right over yonder where I can watch your wagon. I’ll not let anybody hurt you, Mary Ben,” he told her, his voice suddenly thick.

She nodded, unable to speak over the lump that rose in her throat.

It was a still, moonless night. Vanessa sat on a box at the end of the wagon and Henry sat on the ground beside her. He had insisted on standing watch with her and she was glad for his company. Ellie had taken the first watch after John returned. He reported that he had seen and heard nothing unusual and said that he would bed down near the stock.

They had talked for awhile; now they were silent and slowly the minutes went by. Vanessa’s hand slid up and down the barrel of the shotgun leaning against her thigh, and she began to speculate on how it would feel to shoot a man. She was startled to realize that she had come to accept the idea with no accompanying sense of guilt. Was the hard land making her hard too, or was her attitude born of the instinct to survive? No matter, she told herself. She would do what she had to do to protect herself, Ellie and Henry.

“Vanessa, are you ever going to get married?”

In the stillness that enclosed them after Henry’s whispered words, Vanessa swallowed her surprise so she could answer calmly.

“I don’t know. I’ve not met anyone I want to marry. Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“I bet Mr. DeBolt would marry you.”

“What makes you think that?”

“You’re pretty. I never thought about you being pretty until we come on this trip. Most women are ugly and frown all the time. They wear dirty aprons and their hair slicked back tight. You and Ma are pretty, and you smell nice, too.”

“Thank you.”

“I think Mary Ben’s pretty. She likes me and talks to me.”

“I noticed that. Henry . . .” Vanessa turned to look at his shadowy face. There was nothing pretentious about Henry. His thoughts and feelings were uttered honestly as they came to him. His trusting acceptance of whatever advice she gave him made her choose her words carefully. “I don’t think Mary Ben has had many friends. You and Mary Ben can be friends, but that doesn’t mean she thinks of you as a beau.”

“You mean she don’t want to be my sweetheart?”

“I mean that . . . it takes time to get to know someone that well, and they’ll be leaving us in a week or two.”

“I didn’t know that. Why can’t they go with us to Junction City?”

“Because Mr. Wisner wants to go to Cripple Creek and look for gold.”

“Mary Ben could come with us.”

“Her place is with her father. I’m sure she wants to be with him.”

“Mr. Wisner’s not her father.”

“Well, for goodness sake! How do you know that?”

“Mary Ben told me when I was driving their wagon. Mr. Wisner found her down in Indian Territory. She was all by herself, just her and Mister.”

Vanessa was silent while she absorbed the information. She was sure that Henry was feeling something more than friendship for Mary Ben. She and Ellie had talked about the possibility of Henry falling in love, but now that it could be happening, she didn’t know how to deal with it. He couldn’t take care of himself much less a wife. And if there were children—

Without a hint of a warning someone was beside her. Before she could even gasp, a hand jerked the barrel of the shotgun from her grasp.

“Whoa, now. I don’t want you to shoot me, Vanessa.”

It was him! Vanessa’s heart flooded with relief and then with anger because he had startled her.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed.

“That’s a fine way to greet me.”

“Why are you always sneaking around? Where have you been?”

“Why? Have you missed me?” She didn’t answer and he chuckled. “How are you doing, Henry?”

“Fine, Mr. DeBolt. You sure don’t make any noise. I didn’t hear you either.”

“You and Vanessa were so busy talking you wouldn’t have heard a herd of wild horses.”

“Were you out there spying on our camp tonight?” Vanessa felt the heat on her cheeks and a fluttering in her stomach.

“I wanted to talk to John.”

“Then why didn’t you come in and talk to him?”

“You ask a lot of questions. Henry, does she ever shut up and listen?”

“Sometimes.”

“Well, she’d better listen now, because she might have some company before morning. There’s a bunch of slack handed drifters camped about a half mile down the draw, Vanessa. One of them is the kid you worked over with the shovel in Dodge. They passed you yesterday and they know you’re here.

“Well, for goodness sake! That doesn’t mean they’ll bother us.” Vanessa hated him for making her so tense and nervous.

Kain ignored her outburst. “I thought they would turn south and take the Cimarron cutoff. They still plan to do that, but that young bully wants to get even with you first. He’s talking up the idea that because of your fancy rig you may have a lot of money. He’s thinking they’ll waltz in here and hold you up.”

“How do you know? You—” She stopped because she was having trouble breathing. She took a deep breath. This man was overwhelming. She desperately needed to be delivered out of his presence, and she wondered where miracles were when she needed them.

“My sneaking ability comes in handy. As a matter of fact, I consider myself a first-class sneaker. I sneaked up on their camp and heard them talking. I’ve talked to John and here’s what we’re going to do: We’ll let them come in, then we’ll bash a few heads.”

“Why don’t we just shoot them?” she hissed angrily.

“My, you’re bloodthirsty. I’ll not shoot them if I don’t have to. No. This situation calls for head bashing. Want to join the fun, Henry?”

“Yes, sir!”

“You leave Henry out of this!”

“That isn’t for you to say, Vanessa. It’s up to Henry.”

“Damn you! Who the hell do you think you are coming here and ordering Henry around?”

“Don’t swear, little red bird. I’m not ordering Henry, I’m asking. Henry gets enough orders from you.”

“Well, I never!”

“Vanessa?” Ellie called. “Who’s out there?”

“Kain Debolt, Aunt Ellie.”

“Well, isn’t that nice. Do you want coffee, Mr. DeBolt? Or something to eat? We have beef stew.”

“No, thank you, Mrs. Hill.” He bent toward Vanessa. “At least your aunt likes me!”

Even in the dark, Kain could see her white face and shining hair. He didn’t understand himself at all. There was something in the tension charged atmosphere when he was near this woman that compelled him to irritate her and act the fool. He had never been like this with anyone else. He was purely crazy, he thought. She threw his mind completely out of circuit. He would have to be careful of her, he warned himself. He wanted to reach out and slide his fingers along her cheek and into her hair. Vanessa, Vanessa, sweet woman-child . . . The way he felt this minute downright scared him.

“Mrs. Hill?” he called. “Can you keep this little red bird in the wagon and out of trouble for the rest of the night?”

“Well . . . what . . . damn you!”

“Mind me this time, Vanessa, or I’ll give you something to sputter about. You need a strong hand to hold you in line and curb your rebellious nature.”

Vanessa drew in a deep breath. Her temper was on the verge of exploding.

“Oh my goodness!” Ellie climbed down out of the wagon looking like a ghost in her long white gown. “We’ll be glad to do as you say, Mr. DeBolt. Won’t we, dear?”

Kain chuckled. “Vanessa would rather swallow a toad than do as I say. But no matter. She’d better do it . . . this time. You ladies stay in the wagon. If we need you to rescue us, we’ll call you. Won’t we, Henry?”