Moon Over Montana (McCutcheon Family Series Book 5) (22 page)

The door creaked open and he sat back, looking through the darkness.

“Who’s out there?” Lou called softly. “I hear voices.”

“It’s me and Charity, Lou,” Brandon replied.

“Sheriff?”

“That’s right. We needed a private place to talk. Thought you and Dritt wouldn’t mind us using your porch.”

“Of course we don’t mind. Consider it yours, anytime you’d like.”

Brandon chuckled. “That’s kind of you, Lou. After the wedding, we may take you up on that offer, being as how my tiny front porch only has an unromantic view of the jailhouse.”

He heard her softly closing the front door and crossing the porch. “That’s
wonderful
news,” she said. “From what I heard the last few days, I was afraid the wedding wasn’t going to take place after all.”

Brandon felt Charity stiffen. The poor girl. She’d suffered so much humiliation she didn’t deserve, all because of him. He hoped he’d be able to make it up to her. “Yes, it’s happening. And we can hardly wait—but of course we are.”

She cleared her throat. “Yes, of course you are.”

Charity pulled on his arm. He let a few moments slip by so Lou would get the hint.

“Well, I’ll be going on in. You sit out here as long as you like—anytime.”

“Thank you,” Charity said softly, a bit of her fervor seeming to have evaporated.

When the door closed softly, he pulled her close. “I’m sorry, honey. I know this hasn’t been easy for you. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“There’s nothing to make up. I’m just relieved you went and found out now, before the wedding. Maybe if it happened after our wedding, you would have always wondered what life would be like as a marshal. You never told me about Timberlake himself. What was the man like? Was he what you thought he’d be?”

A moment passed as he gathered his thoughts. What would Charity think when she found out he’d never spoken with the man? Would her feelings change? Only one way to find out. “I never got that far.”

“What?”

“When I went to Timberlake’s office for the interview, he wasn’t there. His deputy told me that he hadn’t even mentioned my coming, and that he talked about hiring new deputies all the time. I’d all but made my decision to return the day I arrived, so when I heard that bit of news, I was happy to say my good-byes and head straight for the train depot. I couldn’t get home to Y Knot fast enough.”

“I’m sorry, Brandon. You never even spoke with him?”

He shook his head. “I don’t care about the past, honey. I regret the grief I’ve caused you.”

She glanced down at their hands twined together. “Only two more weeks, and then I’ll be living with you in town, cooking your dinners and being with you every day.” Her gaze, now trained steadily on his own, spoke of love and commitment that would last a lifetime. “I can hardly wait.”

“I know the feeling, darlin’. Two weeks can’t go fast enough to suit me.”

• • •

When Luke pulled the wagon to a halt in front of the house and saw Lucky’s horse still tied at the hitching rail, unease snaked up his spine. Before he even had a chance to circle around the back to assist Faith and the young’uns, the door opened and Lucky rushed out to meet him.

“What is it, Lucky? Has something happened?”

“From what I can figure out, that young buck that Francis had a tussle with returned and carted her off.”

“What? Fox Dancing is gone?”

Lucky nodded. “I’ve been waiting for you to get back for an hour. I showed up, just like you asked. The door was ajar and there looks like there was a struggle. Faith, one of your lanterns in the front room got busted,” he said, looking up at her. “And some other stuff. That young sister of yours put up quite the fight.”

Luke ran into the house, knowing Lucky would help Faith with the children. He took the stairs two at a time. The bedroom was just as it was when they’d left earlier that evening. While he was out having pie and talking up a good time, Fox Dancing had been abducted by that Cheyenne brave. He wished he’d taken the time to find out more about him than the little bit Fox Dancing had shared with Charity. She’d seemed happy here and hadn’t shown any interest in following the brave. He was sure she’d been taken against her will. And as far as clues went, he had very little to go on.

He returned to the front room to find Faith and the children, along with Lucky, taking in the scene. The carpet was askew and a chair toppled over. By the window, he squatted down to touch a small round spot.

Blood.

Whatever happened, one of them had been hurt.

“Lucky, I’d like you to stay here with Faith. When I get to the main house I’ll send over Uncle Pete, and Pedro too.”

Faith watched him intently. “What are you going to do?”

“Not sure yet. Go alert the others for now. Get together a search party. Find Fox Dancing.”

Chapter Thirty-One

W
ith both hands wrapped around the cold, steely bars on her windows, Fox Dancing gazed out into the night, a burning pit of fear in her stomach almost making her retch. Her talisman was gone. Angry with herself, she pushed away her weakness. She was a warrior. She would get free, even if she had to kill someone to do it.

When a man she’d never seen before had stepped into Luk’s dwelling as if he owned the place, suspicion blossomed. He’d told her to come, and when she refused, he’d tried to grasp her wrist. They’d wrestled, bumping into things, smashing a lamp. The foul-smelling man was large. And strong. She had no weapon. That was the last thing she remembered before waking up in this place. Her skin crawled when she realized he must have held her unconscious body while traveling.

A sharp pain in her head made her wince. She reached up and fingered a lump on the side of her head. What happened now? Would Luk come looking for her?

She left the rock wall with the window and crossed her enclosure. With a light touch, she felt around as high as she could, searching for a way out. She thought of her father and what he would do. Her grandfather’s face swam before her gritty eyes, making her heart clench, but she pushed away the emotion. Dim starlight from outside was her only lamp.

A violent shiver took hold of her body and she clenched her jaw tightly, wishing for her buffalo robe back home in her tepee. Where was Painted Bear Stone? Had he witnessed her abduction or had he already left to travel back to the village without her?

She felt naked without the amulet. She hadn’t removed it since her vision quest. Discouraged, cold, and nursing a growing anger, she sank down onto a ragged cot along the wall. Leaning forward, she cradled her head in her hands. She’d never seen a hanging, but she knew the whites were all too eager to rid themselves of Indians. Would her journey to find her brother prove to be her death?

The sound of several men’s voices carried, followed by coarse laughter. Her breathing quickened, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before something very evil happened—she was sure of it. Would she be strong, or cry and beg for her life?

At the familiar sharp cry of a hawk, she startled. She rushed to the window, a jolt of happiness propelling her feet. Blackness covered everything. Across the street, next to the wall of a building, she could make out Painted Bear Stone’s silhouette.

• • •

Just outside the front door of the main house, Brandon dipped his head for one last kiss. He traced his lips across Charity’s. After their discussion on Lou and Dritt’s front porch, he and Charity had gone back to the Biscuit Barrel, hand in hand. After a slice of pie of his own, he’d ridden home in the buggy with Charity and her parents, his horse tied behind.

Luke thundered into the yard. “Brandon,” he yelled before dismounting. “I’m glad you’re still here.”

He turned, Charity at his side. “What’s going on?”

“Something’s happened while we were in town. Looks like someone rode onto McCutcheon land and carted off Fox Dancing from my house. Furniture was upset and it looked like there’d been a struggle. She was gone when Lucky stopped over to check on her.”

“Could it be the Indian brave who fought with Francis?” Charity asked, concern making her voice crack.

“That’s exactly who I think it is,” Luke answered. “If there hadn’t been a struggle, I would have assumed she’d gone willingly, lonesome for her home. But not now.”

Charity had told him how the brave showed up and fought with Francis. They wouldn’t find two lone Indians if that male didn’t want to be found. It would be like searching for a yellow petal in a field of daisies. Luke wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

“You realize it’s highly unlikely we’ll be able to find them. Especially with the lead time they’ve had. He’ll take her and disappear into the land, where we won’t be able to follow.”

Luke shot him a hard look. “I’m not giving up as easy at that. I’m going to at least try.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to try. Just didn’t want you to get your hopes up.”

“And if it were Charity?”

“Yeah, I know.”

The front door opened and Claire came out, followed by Flood. “What’s going on?” Claire asked. Flood stood back.

“Fox Dancing is missing,” Charity said, her lips still puffy from his kisses. “Let me help search as well, Brandon. I can track as good as any man.”

“Not on your life,” he responded. “You stay here with your mother.” Flood had already gone back inside to get his hat and gun. “We’ll gather the hands in the bunkhouse and fan out on Luke’s land, looking for tracks. Until light, we may not spot much. If he wants to get lost, he’ll head for the hills, and so will we.”

“But Brandon—”

Her mother grasped Charity’s hand. “Listen to him, Charity. I don’t want to be worrying over you. He’ll move faster, and with a clearer head, if you’re safe here at home with me.”

It didn’t take long before the whole bunkhouse was roused and cowboys poured out, heading for the horse corral. In mere minutes, the animals were saddled and the group mounted up.

After breaking the men into three groups and giving them his instructions, Brandon strode over to Charity, waiting a few feet away. He turned her away so the others couldn’t see, and kissed her passionately. “I’m gettin’ tired of waiting. When this gets resolved, we’re gettin’ hitched—and I don’t care who likes it or not!”

The twinkle in her blue eyes was enough to fuel his fire. She ran her hands up his chest. “I agree wholeheartedly, Sheriff. I’ll be waiting. But for now, just find Fox Dancing and bring her back.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

C
harity tossed and turned, her bed feeling like a quarry of rocks instead of a soft mattress. It had been several hours since the men had ridden out, and a deep foreboding, something she couldn’t describe, kept her awake and staring through the darkness at the beams above her head. Sitting up, she reached over and lit her lantern. The clock said one. Was her mother awake too? Maybe she should go down and make a cup of tea, check to see that she was all right.

Charity pulled on her wrapper and picked up her bedside lantern. The hall was dark. As she rounded the upstairs landing, the soft glow of the lantern they’d left burning in the downstairs window chased away the darkness of the night. She was halfway down the stairs when a bloodcurdling scream reverberated from the kitchen, almost causing Charity to stumble.

Esperanza!

Grasping the lamp tightly, Charity hurried down the staircase as fast as she could without falling. Was her mother in the kitchen as well? What was happening? A terrifying quiet descended over the house.

Without a thought for her safety, Charity ran through the kitchen door, then skidded to a stop. Her mother stood in the middle of the room with a large kitchen knife pointed at the tall, well-muscled Indian who had fought with Francis yesterday. Esperanza was huddled behind her.

He stood unafraid. His chin jutted out and his eyes reminded her of coals from a hot fire. As strange as it was, she was certain her mother’s knife was not holding him off. In one swoop, he’d be able to disarm her and turn the knife on all of them if he wanted. His bare chest was marked with several large scars.

“Mother, are you all right?” she whispered, not wanting to set him off. “Esperanza?”

The knife in her mother’s hands glinted in the light from her lantern. She nodded. “Yes. We’re unharmed. We were just heating some water when we turned to find him standing right where he is. I have no idea how he got in.”

Charity inched forward, needing to be by her mother’s side. Wanting to protect her in case the warrior decided to strike. “Have you seen Fox Dancing? Is she here with him somewhere?”

Claire shook her head. Esperanza’s face was deadly white and Charity feared the housekeeper might fall and strike her head on the counter behind her.

“Can I go?” Charity spoke to the Indian while nodding toward the women.

He didn’t respond, but neither did he try to stop her when she slowly walked forward and set her lantern on the counter. How she wished she had the gun she’d left upstairs in her room. Who thought you’d need a weapon in your own home?

Charity took Esperanza’s shoulders just as she swayed, and guided her to a stool close by, while her mother kept the knife pointed on the intruder. She patted Esperanza’s cheeks, not wanting her to pass out.

“You’re fine, Esperanza. Take a few deep breaths. Everything is going to be all right.”

I hope that’s true.

“I think you should put the knife down, Mother,” she said. “If he were going to hurt us, he would have already.”

When Charity reached out and took the weapon, laying it next to the lamp, the Indian stepped forward. Her mother gasped, the first sign she was frightened. Was she remembering the day she’d been abducted? Charity put her arms around her and held her tight.

“Look at him, Mother. I think he wants to tell us something. I don’t think he wants to hurt us.”

In a low, slow tone, the Indian said a few soft words. Charity wished she could understand. Then he held something out to her. In the dim light, she would have to cross the room a few steps to see what it was. Her mother tried to hold her back, but Charity calmed her fears with a soft look.