Authors: Caroline Fyffe
F
AITH
and Mr. and Mrs. McCutcheon were finishing up breakfast when Luke stepped through the door. She jumped. His wind-tousled hair and a day’s growth of dark whiskers caused him to appear even wilder and more foreboding than usual. He still wore his buckskins, but his chest was bare and dripping with water as if he’d just bathed. Eyes that fairly crackled with energy sought her face first, before moving to the other two at the table.
Mrs. McCutcheon beamed. “Would you like something to eat?”
“I’m famished,” Luke replied, shrugging into the shirt he held in his hands. “Do we have a steak out there somewhere?”
Flood laughed. “This is a cattle ranch, Son. I’m sure Esperanza can find you a whole side of beef if you want.”
Luke pulled out the chair next to Faith’s and sat. “Sleep well?” he asked.
“Yes,” she lied. What was the cause of this complete turnabout in mood, she wondered. He’d been civil to her last night, but just barely.
Mrs. McCutcheon circled the table, put her arms around Luke and hugged his back. The look on her face brought tears to Faith’s eyes. Oh, how lucky the people in this family were! Were they even aware of how rare their fortune was? Looking away, she sipped from her cup of coffee.
His parents visited and shared their plans for the day. When Esperanza set a two-inch-thick T-bone steak in front of Luke they excused themselves and went out to saddle their horses. Luke sliced into the tender meat, took a deep whiff and appreciated its aroma. Popping the wedge into his mouth he chewed. His eyes closed. “Mmmm.” The sound was a purr. He took a sip of his coffee and sliced off another bite.
Faith nibbled at the food on her own plate, but everything had lost its appeal.
“I’m going to take a trip,” Luke spoke up, wiping his mouth with his napkin.
“You are?” Alarmed at the thought of Luke leaving, Faith frowned. “When?” She’d done nothing but hurt him since coming into his life. He probably just needed some time away from her.
“Soon. Today. Just as soon as I can get ready for travel.”
Today? How could she bear it? She’d more than likely be gone by the time he returned. Her heart fluttered wildly, like a bird caught in a trap. She fought against the urge to cry and whispered, “I see. How long will you be gone?”
“Don’t rightly know.” He forked in another huge piece of meat, and Faith watched the ripple of his jaw as he chewed. “Will you miss me?”
He said it so casually that she thought she might not have heard right. “What?”
Luke turned and laid his fork on his plate. Taking her hands in his, he held them to his lips. “I asked if you’d miss me while I’m gone.”
His tenderness was exactly what she didn’t need, not if she wanted to maintain her composure. Squeezing her eyes closed, she nodded. A tiny unwilling moan escaped her.
“Shhh,” he crooned. “Don’t cry. Everything is going to be all right.” Reaching out, he stroked her hair. With a small tug he had her in his lap, and she buried her face in the warmth and safety of his neck.
Breathing in his wonderful scent, she circled her arms around him.
“That’s better,” he said, rubbing her back. “Now, stop your crying.” He handed her his napkin. “Blow.”
She did and then reined in her sad feelings. Luke, tipping her face up with his finger, looked into her eyes. “Tell me you won’t leave until I return,” he commanded. When she didn’t answer, he quickly went on. “Stay and wait for me. Then, if you still want to go to Priest’s Crossing, I’ll take you there myself. I promise.”
She didn’t know when Ward wanted to leave, but she figured it was going to be soon. Luke looked so hopeful. She wanted him to stay happy. Would it matter much if she added one more lie to her list?
“All right.”
He squeezed her so hard she feared she might faint.
“Where…?” she started to ask, but he put his finger to her lips and stopped the question.
“Just wait till I get back.”
She nodded.
Standing, Luke set Faith on her feet. “I have a lot to get done before I go.” He turned to leave.
“Luke?”
He looked back at her. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” she said. Oh, how she wished she could go back. She’d do so many things differently. In her mind she’d tell him all the things she felt in her heart. How she longed to be his, only his, forever.
He grinned, confusing her again. “So am I,” he called, then bounded up the stairs.
Faith stood there long after Luke rounded the hall out of sight. Something was driving him, something that had dramatically changed his mood. She wished she knew what it was. Did it have something to do with the sheriff?
Instantly, she went cold inside. But if the sheriff knew
about her past, surely Luke couldn’t be happy about it. No, Brandon Crawford had come with news about the bull that she’d learned this morning at breakfast: Earl Morton, one of the men on the cattle drive, and Will Dickson, the awful man with the scar, had maimed the bull.
Cruel. So cruel. They reminded her of Samuel.
Luke shoved a shirt into his saddlebag, which was the last of it. He was traveling light. He’d take two fast horses to alternate between, Pony Express-style, switching whenever one got tired. In Waterloo, he and his horses would board the train traveling east. He should make it to Kearney in a couple of days at the most.
Confidence that he’d be able to get to the bottom of this nightmare had him hopeful. What worried him was what Faith would do with the information upon his return. There was a good job for her in Priest’s Crossing, if she were really set on being alone. But was that what she really wanted? He couldn’t believe it.
Luke caught a glimpse of himself in his bedroom mirror. He paused, studying his reflection. Looking back at him was not the man who’d been there yesterday. He was the same height, had the same smile, but inside he’d changed. The fact that his mother had been carried off all those years ago was still wrong, a dark spot in her life, in all of their lives, but knowing that she hadn’t suffered every moment, like he’d believed, meant a great deal. His mother’s comments had given Luke pride in his other self, the self he could never before acknowledge.
Back in his ranching clothes and boots, he tossed his saddlebags over his shoulder and stepped into the hall. Startled, he found Colton waiting by his bedroom door. When the boy caught sight of him, he turned and hurried away.
“Wait, Colton. Hold up,” Luke called.
The boy whirled, staring up at Luke with fearful eyes. “I didn’t do it,” he yipped.
Luke hunkered down eye level with him. The youth’s hair was dusty and he looked everywhere else. “Didn’t do what?” Luke asked slowly.
Colton, seeming to have realized his mistake, shrugged. “Nothin’.”
Luke didn’t want to press the issue, since he was leaving so soon. He and Colton were working on a truce, and it felt good. Besides, if he hadn’t heard about something amiss by now, whatever the boy had done, it must be minor. “I reckon you’ll tell me when you’re ready,” he replied. “You think?”
Again, Colton just shrugged.
The boy clearly had something he wanted to ask, but he was having a hard time getting it out. Luke slowly stood. “Why were you waiting at my door?”
“Wasn’t waiting.”
“Oh?”
Colton fidgeted under Luke’s scrutiny. “Just wondering…” he began. “Heard you was leaving. Are ya?”
Luke hid the warm surprise that flowed through him. Maybe Colton didn’t dislike him as much as he’d thought. “I am.”
The boy raised his eyes, longing and confusion both written plainly there. “When?” His voice had lost its bravado, and he jammed his hands into his pants pockets.
“Just as soon as I can. But I won’t be gone long,” Luke assured him. This was a new role for both of them. Instead of being his adversary, Colton was actually reaching out.
“Can I go?” The boy looked miserable.
Luke shook his head. “Sorry, son, I have to make good time. It’s very important. Any other time I’d say yes.”
“I won’t hold you up,” Colton begged.
Damn. He couldn’t take him. Not with so much at stake. But for some reason Colton had had a change of heart concerning him, and he hated to let him down. He turned and headed back into his room. “Come here, Colton, I have something I want to give you.” At his dresser, Luke pulled open
the top drawer and began rummaging around. Turning, he held out his hand. “Here, I want you to have this.”
Colton eyed the knife Luke held in the palm of his hand. It was small, and the handle, carved from a deer horn, was shiny from use. “Go on, take it,” Luke said with a smile.
Slowly Colton took the knife. He turned it from side to side, looking solemnly at the object, then up at Luke. He didn’t say anything.
It was Luke’s turn to shrug. “I was just about your age when Pa gave it to me. Be careful not to hurt yourself or anyone else. A knife is a big responsibility, but I think you’re man enough for it.”
Without warning, Colton threw himself into Luke’s arms, almost knocking him off balance. In return, Luke wrapped the boy within his embrace, marveling at how good it felt. A tremble racked Colton’s body, causing Luke’s throat to ache with emotion.
“Hey, what’s all this,” Luke whispered gruffly.
Colton turned his head and hid his face in the crook of Luke’s neck. His breath and the warmth of his tears tickled Luke’s skin as he squirmed to get closer. “I want you to stay.”
“I can’t, Colton. That’s impossible. But I do need you to keep an eye on your ma for me. And that little sister of yours. Think you can do that?”
Colton nodded.
“Good. I’m counting on you.”
Struggling from Luke’s arms, Colton raced off down the hall. Luke shook his head and smiled as he again hefted his saddlebag and left the room.
Faith’s door was open a couple inches, and he could hear Dawn fussing and crying in her crib. “Faith, you in there?” he called through the door. Opening it a little, he stuck his head in, anticipating finding Faith in the room or possibly resting on the bed. He didn’t. The room was empty except for the crying baby.
Tossing his saddlebags onto the bed, he ventured over to the pinewood cradle where the baby cried and peeked inside. Here was the trouble. On her belly, Dawn had scrunched herself up into the corner of the bed. Her head, fussing from side to side, couldn’t get comfortable. Arms as small as chicken legs flailed unhappily.
Luke looked around the room and then back at the infant. “Here now, little Dawn, you’re all right,” he said.
When the fussing baby heard his voice, she let loose with a gut-wrenching sob and worked herself up in a rhythm that he would recognize as hers even in a roomful of young’uns. She bellowed in outrage.
Surprised, he took a step back and analyzed the situation. He didn’t have the heart to just let her cry endlessly until Faith came. Why, that could be some time. No telling where she’d gone off to. So, with ringing ears, he lifted Dawn up to his shoulder.
Her sweet powdery smell, mixed with the aroma of dried milk, brought a smile to his face. Patting her back, he started walking around the room and singing. That’s what they did out on the trail when the cattle were edgy, so it sure couldn’t hurt to try.
“Come along boys and listen to my tale…” he sang, patting her back as he walked around the room. Her sobs continued, but he could be just as stubborn as she was being. “I’ll tell you of my troubles on the old Chisholm Trail…come-a ti, yi youp-yea, come-a ti, yi youp-y youp-y yea…”
When he got to the chorus, Dawn actually hushed for a moment as if listening. “That’s a good girl,” Luke crooned. But the minute he quit singing, she started up again.
“On a ten-dollar horse and a forty-dollar saddle, and I’m goin’ to punch Texas longhorn cattle…come-a ti, yi youp-yea, come-a ti, yi youp-y youp-y yea…”
He could almost hear his own voice now. She was calming down just a bit, like a restless steer would do. Pleased, Luke
couldn’t help but experience satisfaction at the job he was doing.
“I woke up one morning on the old Chisholm Trail, rope in my hand and a cow by the tail—” Turning, he came face-to-face with Faith. Her broad smile went from ear to ear, exposing her delicious-looking dimple. He finished up, “Come-a ti, yi youp-yea, come-a ti, ye youp-y youp-y yea…”
He handed back her baby, who snuggled up next to her breast but kept wide, tearful eyes on him. “Please, Luke,” Faith whispered, “don’t stop.”
He leaned over, bent down close to Dawn. “Stray in the herd and the boss said to kill it, so I shot him in the rump with the handle of the skillet…come-a ti, ye youp-yea, come-a ti, ye youp-y youp-y yea.”
“More,” she mouthed as he let his voice trail off low and slow until he could stop. He shook his head and gestured to the sleeping baby. He pointed to the cradle and then to the door. He watched with a full heart as Faith laid Dawn back into the cradle; then he left the room and waited for her in the hall.
She pulled the door closed with a soft click. He waited for her to speak first, interested in what she might say. Instead, she slipped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his heart. A moment slipped by.
“Luke, your voice…It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “Why, when I came up the stairs and heard that deep, rich singing I couldn’t imagine who it was. Why wouldn’t you sing a few more lines?”
“That particular song has numerous verses, Faith, so we can sing for hours if we need to calm edgy cattle. I didn’t think you really wanted to hear all that.”
“I did. I loved it.”
He pulled her close. Even though he knew he was pushing hard, asking for things she wasn’t ready to give, he threw caution to the wind. “First thing when I get home I’ll sing you
the whole song start to finish. We’ll take a moonlight buggy ride and I’ll serenade you for hours.”
Her face clouded over. Just by watching her expression, he knew she cared.
“When are you coming home?”
“As soon as I can, darlin’. Don’t you get impatient and run off to Priest’s Crossing. I’ll send a telegram to Christine Meeks telling her you’ll be there soon. She’ll hold the spot for you. I’ll make sure of that.”