Moon Over Montana (McCutcheon Family Series Book 5) (13 page)

In halting sounds, the girl uttered a few words. Claire leaned down and picked up her palm. With her eyes, she asked her to repeat what she’d just said.

“I believe her name is Fox something,” Claire said matter-of-factly. “Fox Sitting, maybe Fox Moving. I’m not sure. It’s been many years since I’ve heard the Cheyenne tongue. I do believe I got the first word correct, for I remember it distinctly because of a robe I made—” She closed her mouth quickly and kept her gaze on the hurt girl.

Her mother was so straightforward with all of this, her soft side all but gone. Charity inched closer to Brandon and he put his arm around her shoulder, bolstering her heart. In the other room, Holly started to cry and Faith immediately excused herself and left.

The girl tried again, this time more slowly. Then she said something else. Her mother shook her head, as if she didn’t understand that either. With great effort, the girl took her hand from Claire’s and made a sign.

Claire tipped her head.

The girl signed again, and this time pointed at Luke. Everyone in the room turned to look at him. Her brother’s expression masked, but something in his eyes made her blanch.

A second ticked by and then Claire sucked in a deep breath. She covered her mouth with her hand, just staring at the wounded girl for several long moments before lifting her gaze to the others. “Brother,” she finally said, and then sagged back into Matthew’s strong embrace.

The girl nodded.

Flood, still halfway out the bedroom door, looked as if he couldn’t decide if he was coming or going.

“Luke is her brother,” Claire whispered.

Shocked, Charity searched Luke’s face. He just stood there staring at the girl on the bed, who stared back at him. Now the resemblance jumped out like a slap in the face. Luke’s dark hair wasn’t quite as black as hers, but their olive-colored skin and gorgeous, mysterious eyes were a match if she’d ever seen one.
Luke resembles her more than he does me.
This Fox Something was as much his sister as she was. Charity and Luke shared a common mother, and this Indian girl and Luke shared a common father.

Pain sliced Charity’s heart. All these years, she’d been Luke’s prized little sister, as if she and Luke had an invisible bond between them that the rest of the family didn’t share. She the only sister, he the only half-breed. As horrible as that sounded, it was the truth. She’d reveled in that difference all these years. Now Luke had another sister. One who resembled him much more closely.

“B-broher.” The girl’s pronunciation was off, but there was no mistaking what she’d said. She looked around, unsure for the first time. Her lips wobbled.

“Luke?” Roady said, his brow questioning. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”

Luke swallowed and stepped forward. He regarded his mother. She made a sign with her hand, and he slowly followed suit.

Instantly, the girl began signing back. She moved her hand slowly, then looked at Claire to see if she had caught her meaning.

“She says hello. Says it’s medicine—good medicine,” she corrected, “that the two of you are finally meeting. Says she’s wanted to come see her great white brother for many seasons.”

Flood turned and left the room.

The sound of him descending the staircase was like a death knell to Charity’s heart.

“Are you all right, sweetheart?” Brandon whispered into her ear. “You’re shaking like a leaf. You want me to take you home?”

Shaking like a leaf? An earthquake was mild compared to what twisted her gut. Her whole world had been snatched out from under her feet, tilted sideways, and then turned upside down. Her brother ripped away and her father’s heart shattered.

Never before had she seen that look in her pa’s eyes. He was a brave man, powerful and self-reliant. But this was one demon he couldn’t fight, couldn’t protect himself from the torment of knowing his wife had lived with another man for a whole year while her small sons back home cried for their mama. This girl must look a lot like her father, because she’d never seen that look in her mother’s eyes either.

“No, not yet,” Charity whispered back.

Brandon pulled her closer. “You just say the word.”

“She’s getting tired,” Claire said. “We don’t want to wear her out. She needs rest to recover more quickly.”

As Claire turned, the girl reached out and grabbed her wrist. She made a few more signs.

Charity’s mother shook her head and the girl tried again.

“Fox D…Danc-ing,” the girl said.

Her mother smiled. “Her name is Fox Dancing.” She signed back to the girl, who smiled and then closed her eyes.

Matt and Mark escorted their wives out of the room. Brandon stopped at the foot of the bed. Charity didn’t want to leave Luke’s side. Roady edged out of the room, his hat still in his hands. He stopped in the hall, looking back in.

Charity gave Luke’s hand a tug. “What are you thinking?” she asked quietly when he looked down at her.

He rubbed a palm over his face and shrugged. “Life has just taken an interesting turn.” His gaze cut to Brandon. “My brother-in-law-to-be is thinking Fox Dancing is the culprit who killed the calf in Pine Grove. And I’d have to agree with him. Her injured arm would explain the wobbly arrow wounds Sheriff Huxley observed. We’ll pay restitution to the rancher involved and hope that satisfies him, but I don’t think they’re going to like that an Indian who is supposed to be on a reservation has turned up here. And is killing stock. It may stir up trouble.”

That startled her. She’d forgotten about the trouble in Pine Grove.

“But what about you, Luke?” Charity asked. “How do you feel about all this?” He was her main concern. All the rest would work itself out the way it was supposed to. Luke had been hurt and angry for so long. She didn’t want to see him slip back into his morose moods.

He gave her a tender smile. “Don’t worry about me, Char. Ma and Flood are going to need us now more than ever.”

She nodded. “Surely Pa will understand Mother hasn’t made this happen. As hard as it’s going to be on him, it will be more difficult for her, with the memories of her captivity for all those months.”

“Just keep what I said in mind when you get back to the ranch. Be patient.”

Charity snuck a glance at her mother, still gazing at Fox Dancing as if no one else were in the room. “I will.”

Faith came back into the room and went to Luke’s side. “Should I put the kettle on for tea?”

He shook his head. “I’m sure everyone would rather go home.” He kissed her temple. “And I’m going to make sure my mother is one of them.”

Chapter Eighteen

A
huge buck moon lit the horse corrals and barn as Brandon led Charity through a copse of trees. They emerged into a meadow lush with thick Montana grass and flowers, in bloom all around. When they’d left Luke’s house for the ranch, Flood had been waiting in moody silence in the wagon for Claire and Charity, having already taken the others home.

No one said a word as he helped them into the conveyance. Brandon mounted up and followed alongside, back to the main ranch house, feeling the edgy tension on his shoulders like a thick fog. When they arrived, Charity’s parents had said their good-nights and disappeared inside to go to bed.

Brandon tugged on her hand and Charity turned into his waiting arms. The cool night air eased away his tense thoughts. They stood that way for a few minutes in silence, him just enjoying the feel of her finally in his embrace. He kissed her temple and ran his hands down her arms. Her stray hairs tickled his face. He’d never tire of the feel of her.

“What’re you thinking, sweetheart? You have me worried.”

With a sigh, she turned and rested her back against his chest to gaze up at the moon. He cocooned her in his warmth, trying to give her the support she needed. Time to gather her thoughts after the troubling evening. Everyone knew Mrs. McCutcheon’s history—to a point. This couldn’t be easy for any of them.

“I don’t know what to think. I’m confused. And worried. My parents have never acted so peculiar. Pa’s despondent, and Ma… I don’t know what she is. Defiant? Driven? What?” With a sob, she turned back to face him, burying herself in his arms. Her clean lavender scent made him close his eyes. Another sob followed, then the wetness of her tears on his neck.

“Shh, honey. It’s not all that bad. It’s just different. Think of it as your family’s growing. I’d love to discover family I didn’t know I had.”

He’d rarely seen Charity cry true tears in all the years he’d known her. He’d seen her fit to be tied. Embarrassed. And cry out of frustration when she couldn’t have her way, but never tears of true sadness or uncertainty.

“I’m sure everyone will get over the shock by tomorrow and things will feel a whole lot better.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Not for my pa. Fox Dancing is a constant reminder of what my mother underwent at the hands of that girl’s father—
Luke’s father
. I can’t even imagine what he’s feeling right now. This can only bode trouble. We all knew about my mother’s suffering, but we never, ever talked about it. Now the whole thing is right in front of our faces.”

Brandon took her hand and walked out farther into the field. He shrugged out of his light jacket and placed it on the ground. “Want to sit a while?”

He still needed to tell her about his plans. Kansas City was never far from his mind. How he’d do that, now that her emotions were so fragile, he hadn’t a clue.

She seemed uncertain. “They might come looking for us.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not tonight.”

In a swoosh of fabric, Charity sat, pulling her pretty green party dress to the side to make room for him. “You’re right. What am I thinking? Me compromising myself out in the dark is the furthest thing from their minds now.”

He lowered himself down beside her and drew her back into his arms. He couldn’t stop a chuckle at her overdramatic simplification of the situation.

“Don’t be silly. You’re the first thing in their minds and hearts—now and always. Especially with the wedding less than a month away.”

She made a sound of unbelief her throat, then she shrugged.

“That sounded pretty self-centered, and that wasn’t my aim. I just want things to be good for my parents, and Luke too.
Do
you think that girl had anything to do with killing that calf in Pine Grove?”

“Probably everything to do with it. When I finally found some tracks, they led me here—to her.”

“She’ll get in trouble.”

He nodded. “Luke’s assumption that they’ll just be able to make restitution may not be the case. But we’ll have to wait and see. Just because she’s Cheyenne and she was in the barn, doesn’t make her guilty of that crime. Could be coincidence. There’s too little evidence to say either way until she’s better and we can talk to her.”

“But if she did, what will happen to her?”

“You know the answer to that, Charity. She’ll have a trial. But it’s way too soon to be thinking about anything like that.”

She jerked her gaze to his, and her hand found his forearm. “Being Indian, she may not get a fair trial.”

He cupped her upturned face, the sight of her filling his soul. “I’ve learned years ago it doesn’t help anything to jump to conclusions. We’ll wait and keep an open mind until more is discovered. There could be several scenarios out there that have nothing to do with Fox Dancing.”

He lowered his lips toward hers, wanting to chase the fear from her eyes. “Now I want a little time with my girl.” Desire snaked through his veins at the warmth of her lips, so soft and innocent.

Charity McCutcheon could act as tough as she liked, but underneath her bravado, she was still a young girl. Sheltered by her family’s love. The memory of the hayloft in Texas, where she’d shown him just how passionate a woman she was, fueled his blood.

Gently, he lowered her back into the fragrant grass, amid the lowing of cattle and the cry of a night bird. The moonlight washed over them like a wave, feeding his desire to touch her, hold her. With one hand, he traced the soft curve of her cheek, taking in her beauty, and then he kissed his way down her neck, marveling at its smoothness. His heart’s tempo galloped off. They kissed until they were breathing hard and he knew he had to ease up.

“Brandon, I love you,” she whispered as he drew away. “I wish we’d gotten married last week. Then we’d already be man and wife in all ways.” She ran her hand down the front of his shirt, her fingers leaving a trail of fire through the fabric. “I need you so much tonight.” Her teeth snagged her bottom lip for a moment, as if uncertain, then she said, “I’m willing.”

Her face was only inches from his. If she was this beautiful after only a few kisses, he could only image her transformation after their first night together. As much as he wanted the same thing, he would not let their first time happen in a horse pasture. Or disrespect her parents’ trust in him. But a voice in his head said that if they consummated their love right now, it would ensure she’d go anywhere with him. That she wouldn’t call off the wedding once she knew his intentions.

He’d never loved her as much as he did in that moment. “Charity,” he whispered. “Not yet, sweetheart. I want our first time to be in a big bed in some fancy hotel. I’ve already decided not to spend our first night at my house—as cozy as it is. We’ll go somewhere else. Have a honeymoon.”

Don’t do it, Brandon,
his conscience cautioned him.
I see where you’re going, and it’s not something you want to do. Don’t mislead her even for a second
.

She went up on her elbow. “Have a honeymoon? Where would we go? Pine Grove? Or even Bozeman. We could ride over to Waterloo and go by train.”

He pulled her back down and nuzzled her neck. “I was thinking somewhere even better.”

“Where?” Her voice held a note of disbelief, excitement.

“How would you like to go to Kansas City?”

“Kansas City?”

The blood swooshed in Brandon’s ears, as if he faced the gun barrel of a hardened outlaw. Tonight’s conversation was indeed that grave.