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Authors: Joni Keever

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BOOK: Scars of the Heart
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Jamming his gun back into its holster, Tiny muttered under his breath. “You’ll pay for this. I know you was a cheatin’. We all know it. Nobody cheats ol’ Tiny and gets away with it.”

Without breaking eye contact, Kade gathered the money from the table, his pistol still leveled at the larger man. He stuffed the bills into his pants’ pocket and waved the gun toward the wide-eyed youth.

“Shit,” Tiny spewed. He stood the terrified child up by the back of the neck and shoved.

Kade caught and held the prize in his free arm. His gun remained steady as the pair backed through the room toward the swinging doors. Once outside, he threw the reluctant youth atop a huge black stallion that stood tethered near the saloon entrance. In a single movement, he gathered the reins and leaped to the back of the mighty horse. Bracing his companion between his arms, Kade wheeled the animal around and raced down the dusty street.

As he suspected, Tiny came blundering through the bar doors, cussing loudly and firing worthless shots at the fleeing pair. Kade figured the drunkard couldn’t hit a buffalo if he was standing nose to nose with one. But he didn’t want to risk it. He leaned forward over the horse’s neck, making a smaller target but nearly crushing his young passenger.

When they were well out of range and encompassed by the black of night, Kade straightened in the saddle. He slowed his horse to a less grueling pace and readjusted his position, allowing more space for his companion. Only then did he realize the little stray trembled like a leaf in the wind.

“Why are you scared? The worst is over.” He turned off the main road and headed south across the open land toward an outcropping of rock on the horizon.

“Wh-why did you do that? Win me from Tiny? What do you plan to do with me?”

The small voice quivered. Kade considered the questions a moment. He really hadn’t thought through what would happen after he rescued the lamb from the wolf.
Damn!
He had been so caught up in his own tormented memories, he’d let himself be driven by emotion rather than reason. What
was
he going to do? He had enough complications in his life right now; he certainly didn’t need another. Realizing he hadn’t answered the question, he cleared his throat and holstered the gun he still held.

“Where are you from? Where are your people?”

“I’m not from anywhere. My family is dead.”

“All of them? You have no one, nowhere to go?” Kade understood the hesitation that followed was suspicion, not contemplation.

“I, uh, have an old aunt in Marshall, Texas. At least I think I do. I haven’t heard of her in some time, and she was in poor health last I knew.”

Kade fought the urge to curse. He took the hat from his head and wiped a shirtsleeve across his brow. “Well, I guess we can stop in the next town and try to wire your aunt.” He gazed up at the full moon and realized the ragamuffin had quit shaking.

“You didn’t say . . . I mean, why did you win me from Tiny, if you don’t intend to keep me for yourself?”

After pondering the question, Kade finally answered. “I don’t really know. It was a stupid thing to do.” He envisioned a posse and perhaps soldiers the ruckus had surely roused riding after them. Then he envisioned Tiny.

He inhaled deeply and continued in a voice barely above a whisper. “No one deserves to be beaten . . . not even a skinny, scrawny scrap of a boy like yourself.”

Chapter Three

A boy?
Carly’s mind reeled as she realized her rescuer thought she was a young man. A bubble of laughter rose in her throat and nearly escaped before she caught herself. She sobered, trying to remember just how long it had been since she felt like laughing. Pushing the question aside, she took a deep breath and tried to concentrate.

If he truly had mistaken her for a boy, that would explain why he wasn’t pawing her while searching for a makeshift bed. Carly wondered if she was being duped. The big hat and baggy clothes did hide her fairly well. Her size was similar to a lad’s, and the man had paid far more attention to Tiny during the evening than to her. Maybe he did believe what he said, and she could use the guise to her advantage.

When this stranger found out she was indeed a young woman, he would surely act just like Tiny. If he continued to think of her as a boy, perhaps Carly could save herself from any more pain. Perhaps she could climb from the pits of the hell she’d been thrust into. Perhaps she could go back to Virginia, where men were civilized and life was easy.

Carly thought of the man riding silently behind her. Had she known how the evening’s events would transpire, she’d have paid more attention to Tiny’s challenger. The few times she’d dared to peek from beneath her hat brim, she had noticed dark, unreadable features. Deeply tanned skin, broad shoulders, long and lean muscles, a predator’s build. He felt like a stone wall against her back, and she fought the urge to move away from him. He wasn’t holding her now. In fact, he seemed not to be aware of her at all. Carly didn’t want to alert him. With a slow deep breath, she tried to relax.

Why would a man like this choose to win a
scrawny boy
in a poker game? What could he possibly want with her? Carly had no answers. If nothing else, the last few days had taught her that she’d never understand why men acted the way they did. She just hoped she could continue with her newfound disguise long enough to get out of this predicament.

She had been so relieved to be delivered from the clutches of Tiny, she hadn’t stopped to wonder what fates awaited her at the hands of this new captor. Once the trapper took her to town, she had hoped for the opportunity to enlist the aid of a soldier. She’d heard of Senator James R. Doolittle, chairman of the Committee on Indian Affairs. She had followed the turbulent relations between the encroaching settlers and the savage natives as best she could until her abduction more than a week ago.

She could still see the face of the savage who had taken her, the crazy gleam in his eyes, the spat of disgust as he looked at her. Carly had to wonder, even if she could somehow speak with one of Doolittle’s men, would those “injun lovers” bother to help her? One of the individuals they were there to protect was initially responsible for her plight. Wouldn’t that be like admitting they were indeed the ruthless animals the white settlers reported them to be?

Though the night air felt warm, a shudder ripped through her. It gained the attention she’d hoped to avoid.

“You cold?” He fumbled behind himself and finally shook out a rolled wool blanket. Keeping one hand on the reins, he placed the covering about her shoulders, reaching around in front to gather the sides.

Carly jumped and then held her breath as his hand brushed her breast. But he didn’t seem to notice. He continued to guide his horse through the rocks and bush with a confidence that told Carly he must be familiar with the terrain.

The man went back to ignoring her, and she began to relax. Exhaustion tugged at her eyelids, and she knew she would lose this battle. Her last conscious thought came as a question.

Why had God placed her in the possession of this powerful, foreboding man?

#

Kade wondered how the lad could be chilled on such a hot night. Yet he barely gave the oddity a thought as he drifted back into his reverie. What in the world had he gotten himself into? He had no business saddling himself with this orphan. No business making an enemy of a man like Tiny. And certainly no business traipsing off to Marshall in search of some old biddy that may be dead. No, Kade’s business waited in another part of Texas. He had a score to settle and no idea how he’d gotten so sidetracked.

The pint-size passenger slumped backward against Kade’s chest. At least one of them would get some sleep. He wouldn’t feel comfortable until they reached a little cave he knew about, not too far from here. Men like Tiny didn’t take kindly to being cheated out of what was theirs. Kade couldn’t be sure the one-eyed giant wouldn’t try to follow them or enlist the aid of General Pope’s men to do so. Unlike Doolittle, who strove to bring peace to the Great Plains, John Pope rallied his men to war. Focused on the annihilation of the red man, the bloodthirsty soldiers were all too eager for battle of any kind now that the Civil War had ended.

Looking down at the boy, Kade started to remove the hat. He stopped, thinking the action might startle the lad. Best to let him sleep. No telling when his last good night was. Kade breathed deeply. The slim body resting against him lifted easily with the slight effort.

He wondered about the boy’s age. He seemed frail and fragile, even for a boy of fourteen years or so. Surely he was at least that. Such a child would never have been able to fend off a bully like Tiny. With no muscle, no weight, no height, he would be forever helpless . . . even when the pride and dignity within finally revolted as Kade knew it would.

The horse started up an incline as they arrived at the outcropping of rock. Kade gave the animal’s neck a pat, grateful the black knew his way. The rider’s musings had left the horse to navigate alone. They wove through the jagged boulders to a stand of cedar that grew very near the rock wall. He used his body to protect his sleeping companion as they squeezed past. Both man and mammal had to lower their heads to enter the shallow cavern. The black stopped immediately, and Kade wondered if he should wake the boy.

Perhaps he could dismount without disturbing the lad. After all, the youngster hadn’t even stirred when they’d brushed through the cedar branches. If Kade woke him in the pitch-black of the cave, the child might be frightened and scream. Kade still wasn’t sure they hadn’t been trailed.

Bracing the slumped body with one hand, he swung his leg over and slid to the ground. He let the sleeping figure glide into his arms, then placed the boy on soft sand, near the rock wall. Moving across the small area, Kade felt the floor for the fire pit and dry wood he kept in stock. Soon he had a small blaze burning and the saddle off the black. Hoping the child would sleep awhile, Kade slipped quietly outside to cover the tracks they had made leading up to the hiding place. He watched for a time beneath the full moon. Nothing moved across the flat Kansas expanse they’d traveled. Confident they were safe for the time being, he returned to the cavern and his ward.

The fire had died to a bed of coals. Kade wouldn’t have lit the blaze at all save for the lad. The summer night warmed the small interior, but thick foliage blocked out all moonlight. He didn’t want the boy to wake in a dark and unfamiliar place.

Though the ceiling loomed high enough for the horse to stand, the walls sat fairly close together, narrowing quickly as the cavern deepened. The black had to stay near the opening. Kade usually slept in the soft sand where he had placed the child. That put about five or six feet between himself and the fire. Grumbling, he removed his hat and gun belt. He’d have to sleep between his companion and the glowing embers. He preferred to lie beneath the stars, with the night breeze to cool him. Already this orphan had managed to be a bother and a burden.

Kade remembered he’d let the little ragamuffin use his blanket as well. He checked on the sleeping form in the sand and noticed the boy had curled into a tight ball, the cover tangled securely in his thin arms. With a curse, Kade lay down on the hard earth at the edge of the sand. He placed his gun beneath his thigh, hand on the hilt. Wiggling to find a place amid the pebbles, he looked over at the cause of his discomfort. In the meager light cast by the waning coals, all he could see was his wadded-up blanket and that dirty old hat.

#

The dream began the same each time. Dark shadows climbed the walls of the barn. Creepy, creaky noises came from every corner. An evil laugh resonated, echoing through the rafters and dancing a path down Kade’s spine.

He spun quickly one way and then the other, searching . . . waiting . . . dreading the source of the laugh. Whack. Whack. Whack. Leather against dungaree. Kade whirled again, his eyes struggling with the dim recesses. The noise grew closer, as did the deep laughter. Whack. Whack. The laughter became a name. Kade covered his ears, but the sounds intensified. He spun once more, scanning the shadows.

Whack. Whack. Whack. There. In a thin beam of light from a hole in the roof, a single glistening black eye. The laughter reached a crescendo until Kade felt he could stand no more. And then there was nothing . . . nothing but a scream.

Kade bolted to a sitting position. He gulped in ragged breaths of air while peering wide-eyed around the small cave. The piercing wail knifed through his brain. Another second passed before he realized the sound came not from his night terrors, not from himself, but from the child beside him.

The boy lashed out with frail arms, fighting an unseen foe. He cried out repeatedly, though Kade could not understand the words. Feeling helpless, he had no idea how to handle a situation such as this. A tight little fist caught him on the jaw, and he struggled to grasp the flailing arms.

“There now. Wake up, boy. It’s just a dream. Wake up!” Kade shook the lad until pale green orbs stared up from the grimy face. The child began to claw at him, eyes round and unseeing.

“No! No!”

“It’s a dream. Do you hear me? A dream, boy. You’re safe. Here now, stop this!” Kade gave the slender form another hard shake.

The glaze in the eyes cleared a bit, and the scream became great sobs. The lad shook free of Kade’s grasp and hugged his knees to his chest. He began to rock back and forth, crying loudly.

Kade ran his fingers through his long, black hair. He felt ill-equipped to deal with the tantrums of youth. With an unsure hand, he reached out and patted the boy on the shoulder.

“Don’t cry. It’s just a bad dream. It’s over now.”

Suddenly the waif threw himself against Kade’s chest, clinging to his neck like a man drowning. Kade stiffened, raising his arms in the air for lack of a better place to put them. “What the—”

“You have to take me to Marshall. Please! Please say you will. Say you’ll help me find my aunt. Say you’ll keep me safe!”

Hot tears soaked the front of Kade’s shirt. Again he searched the darkness for the help he knew he wouldn’t find. His horse snorted and swished its long tail.

BOOK: Scars of the Heart
7.13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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