The Bad Luck Wedding Cake (18 page)

Big Jack levered himself over onto his back and shut his eyes against the sun. “I know your mama is out of town, but curses don’t need proximity to work. She can’t find out what’s happened. We can’t let her find out.”

Maribeth nudged Emma’s sleeve. “That would probably be best for us, too. Think of what she’d do to us. Think of what
Papa
would do to us. Uncle Tye is one thing, but Papa? Our hind ends wouldn’t be worth sitting on for years.”

Slowly Emma nodded, whispering in reply, “Actually, I’m afraid that this time we might have crossed the line, even with Uncle Tye. He’s bound to be worried sick about us by now, and if he learns about the spelling bee plan and the love potion, well…he is Papa’s twin brother, after all.”

“We’re doomed,” Maribeth declared.

“Oh, I hurt,” Bailey groaned. “My body. My head. I have a herd of cattle running through it How long was I out?”

“It’s going on mid-morning now.”

He muttered something beneath his breath. “Someone will have missed you?”

“Yes.”

“Damn.”

Emma thought the word summed up the situation quite well.

“Wait a minute.” Puzzlement stole through his voice as he cocked open one eye and said, “My bad luck aside, what were the three of you doing down in Hell’s Half Acre that time of night? That’s no place for young children. Why, I’d have walloped my girls if they’d pulled a stunt like that. What were you up to?”

“We were visiting Madam LaRue,” Katrina explained before Emma managed to clamp her hand over her younger sister’s mouth to shut her up.

“The witch. I should have guessed. What mischief are y’all up to now? I reckon without your stepmother around to practice her voodoo, you need a substitute.”

“Don’t you talk bad about my mama,” Katrina warned, lifting the knife in an unspoken threat.

Jack Bailey scowled at the youngest McBride, then addressed Emma. “Look, I’ve admitted this was all a mistake, so you can lower the weapons and untie me. We need to work together. We all need to get y’all back to town in such a way that the adults in your family don’t find out what happened. We need a plan, a story. Let’s start thinking of one, all right?”

Emma scowled at him. “Why should we trust you?”

“Because if we don’t work this right, you’ll be in as much trouble as I am. Think about it. What would your folks do if they knew I’d found you haunting Hell’s Half Acre after midnight?”

The three sisters met each other’s gazes, communicating wordlessly. After a moment Maribeth lowered the Colt and massaged her aching arm with her free hand. “You won’t fight letting us go?”

“Of course not. I don’t want to cause you any harm. You’re little girls. Little
McBride
girls. I want you to go home.” He had the nerve to look offended as he added, “What kind of man do you think I am?”

“You’re a bad man,” Katrina said, dropping the knife onto the wagon seat and folding her arms in a huff. “You hurt our Uncle Tye and our mama.”

Big Jack closed his eyes at that. For a long moment the only sound to be heard was Kat’s indignant sniff and the horse’s nicker. Then the rancher spoke in a troubled tone. “It was wrong of me. I know that. But then I was caught up in grief for my son. I’m through the worst of that now. Losing my boy, and the troubles my daughters had, well, it changed me. I’ve reformed.”

Maribeth gave a snort of disbelief. “If you reformed, then how come you stole us?”

“It wasn’t my fault. I told you that. It was bad luck.”

“I don’t think it was bad luck,” Katrina stated. “Bad luck is good for us. The Bad Luck Wedding Dress brought us a new mother, so now it’s the Good Luck Wedding Dress. I can’t figure out anything good about being here with you. You tied us up and got us lost. I’m hungry. You are a bad, mean man, Mr. Big Jack.”

“All right, I’m bad and I’m mean,” he said, impatience heavy in his voice. “But we’re not lost. We can’t be lost.” He struggled to sit up and finally managed to get his head above the wagon’s side slats.

The girls watched silently as he slowly panned his head around. “Oh, Lord,” he muttered.

“What is it?” Emma asked, fearing she already knew the answer.

He sighed loud enough to scare a mockingbird from a nearby tree. “Looks like we might just have plenty of time to come up with a story to tell your uncle. You were right. We
are
lost.”

***

AT THE end of the longest night of his life, Tye watched daylight dawn in a muted pallet of pink, purple, and mauve. He paced like a panther along the southern bank of the Trinity River, waiting for the morning to grow light enough to search the muddy slope for signs he prayed he wouldn’t find. His eyes were gritty; his body weary. He had not slept in almost twenty-four hours.

He didn’t much expect to discover evidence of the Blessings here along the river. The amount of time they’d remained missing combined with the clues he and Claire had found in their room led him to believe they’d hopped the train for New Orleans. But until responses to his telegrams arrived, he didn’t know what else to do other than search for them in Fort Worth. So that’s what he did.

His mind drifted back to the previous day, recalling the many efforts he and the townspeople had made, wondering if they had overlooked any possibility and unable to imagine what it might be. The citizens of Fort Worth had come out in force to look for the McBride children. Officially, the sheriff led the search, but as the hours passed it became obvious that the indomitable Donovan family directed the townspeople’s efforts.

The Confederacy could have used a few generals like John Donovan. Some majors like Claire’s brothers wouldn’t have hurt, either. Still, despite a thorough exploration of every nook and cranny in town, no one discovered even a hint as to the girls’ whereabouts.

For a little while Tye had pinned his hopes on young Casey Tate since the boy had partnered the girls in their pranks a time or two in the past. Tye had questioned the boy, and once he’d convinced him of the seriousness of the matter, Casey had rattled off a stream of schemes and pranks that had Tye shaking his head in wonder at the scope of his nieces’ imaginations. He’d tracked down teachers and playmates and merchants. He’d even spoken with a fortune-teller down in Hell’s Half Acre. All he’d learned there was that Madam LaRue had sold Spike to Casey Tate.

Tye lifted his face toward the brightening sky and sent yet another prayer heavenward. Then, as the sun climbed above the treetops, he began to follow the Trinity’s shoreline, his gaze sharp, his footsteps heavy, weighted by the burden of his brother’s misplaced trust.

If the Blessings had come to harm on his watch, Tye would want to die.

A flash of red near the water caught his gaze and shook his composure. He scrambled down the bank and with trembling fingers lifted a twisted length of cloth from the cool water. Droplets of water scattered like rain as he shook the cotton open. Relief swept over him. A cowboy’s bandanna. Most likely lost while driving cattle across the river.

He’d never seen the girls wearing bandannas.

For the first time in hours a smile lifted the edges of his mouth. At the same moment, he heard the sound of Claire Donovan’s voice calling his name. He scrambled back up the bank and spied her driving his way in a coal-box buggy. She looked happy. Emotion clutched his chest as he called out hopefully, “They’ve been found?”

He saw it in her eyes before she shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, Tye. Not yet.”

He kicked a rock and sent it flying toward the river. It entered the water with a plop that sounded like his heart felt.

“Brian told me I’d find you out here,” Claire said, pulling up beside him. “He took the next shift at the telegraph office when the operator went back to my house to sleep.” She held up a basket and added, “I brought you coffee and fresh muffins.”

“Thanks. I’ll take the coffee.” He’d leave the muffin alone, however. He knew if he tried to force down one of the Blessings’ favorite breakfast foods he’d choke on it.

Tye secured the horse and buggy for her while Claire carried the basket to a large flat rock beside the river. Setting it down, she flipped back the lid and removed an earthenware jug. She pulled the cork and the aroma of strong coffee rose along with the steam and teased Tye’s senses. After filling a mug with the brew, she offered it to him. “Did you get any sleep at all?”

He accepted the coffee with a shrug and lied, “Sure.”

She studied him, then wrinkled her nose with disbelief. “I saw Brian at the telegraph office. He said to tell you replies are beginning to come in from every train stop between here and the Louisiana border.”

“Good,” he replied, nodding as he sipped from the mug. “I don’t suppose we’ve received any word from New Orleans?”

“Actually…” With an apologetic look, Claire reached into her basket and brought out a sheet of paper. “Under the circumstances I won’t apologize for reading it. It’s the longest telegram I’ve ever seen. Mrs. West hasn’t heard from the girls, and I’m afraid the tone of her message is…well…it’s not very nice. I don’t know if you really want to read this.”

Tye scanned the page, his scowl deepening with every word. It wasn’t difficult to see where Constance had gotten her character.
Bitch
was too nice a term for Beatrice West.

If my granddaughters arrive on my doorstep, I won’t allow them to leave
.

“I won’t allow them to stay,” Tye muttered, crumpling the telegram in his fist. No way in hell would he let Beatrice West’s influence corrupt his Blessings. Look what she’d done to her own daughter.

He reared back and threw the paper into the Trinity, the left-handed toss sailing the ball farther than he would have guessed. Hot coffee sloshed over the rim of the cup with the movement, scalding his skin. He hardly noticed the outer pain, because inside he hurt so fiercely.

As much as he hated the idea of his nieces being within spitting distance of that old crone and her cold mansion, he prayed they’d turn up there. “It’s a helluva deal.”

“Wouldn’t you like a sweet roll, Tye?” Claire asked. “They’re Patrick’s, and he’s the best roll maker in the family.”

Tye took one even though he didn’t want it. During this nightmare, Claire had displayed such concern and caring. In fact her whole family had acted that way. Shocked the hell out of him. Maybe there was something in those folks worth her love after all. Taking a small bite of the sweet, he swallowed and said, “Thanks, Claire.”

“You’re welcome. I hope you enjoy it.”

“I didn’t mean breakfast. Well, I did…but I meant more, too. You and your family have been a big help. The search through town took half as much time as it otherwise would have if your father hadn’t been there directing the sheriff.”

Claire’s mouth twisted in a rueful smile. “No one is better than my da when it comes to organizing and directing people. Besides, everyone wanted to help the Menaces and Lord McBride.”

For once he didn’t argue with either term. Instead, he took a long sip of coffee, studying her over the top of the mug. She looked a bit bedraggled herself. Noticing it, Tye realized he’d been so caught up in his own troubles, he’d all but forgotten about hers. Clearing his throat, he asked, “So how is it going with your father? You showing your sand?”

“I’m trying,” she said simply. This time she was the one who kicked a stone toward the river. She stared at it as it rolled down the slope, but once it splashed into the water, she looked up at him. Sorrow and the slightest hint of shame glimmered in her eyes. “I can’t say I’m making much headway. I’ll know better if he’s learning anything once the girls are found and life settles back to normal.”

“From your mouth to God’s ears.”

“Oh, Tye.” She reached for him, then paused. Their gazes met and held as the memory of their last embrace rose like a specter between them. He needed her comforting touch. God, how he needed her. But he couldn’t ask.

He didn’t have to ask. Smiling tenderly, Claire wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight.

His own arms stole around her, and he buried his head in her hair, inhaling her sweet scent of faith and hope and drawing on her strength.

She was strong, probably the strongest woman he knew. He hoped she’d come to see it, too.

With her in his arms, he was able to confess, “I’m so afraid for them.”

“I know.”

They stood as they were for some time, holding each other, until the thunder of approaching horses broke through Tye’s consciousness and he looked up. Patrick Donovan galloped toward them. The wide grin wreathing his face faded as he saw his sister in Tye’s arms. He reined his mount to a halt a few short steps away and snapped, “McBride, get your paws off our Claire.”

Instead of letting her go, Tye held her tighter. A lump the size of one of Claire’s Magical raisin muffins rose in his throat as one possible reason for Donovan’s presence occurred to him. He managed to squeak out only one word. “Claire?”

She glanced from him to her brother. Slowly a smile broke across her countenance like sunshine from behind a thundercloud. “Patrick, they’re home?”

“Aye. They drove into town a few minutes ago. Now, let go of my sister and climb in the buggy, McBride. Your Blessings are home safe and sound.”

Carry peas home from the pea-patch in a split basket to avoid bad luck
.

CHAPTER 11

TYE DROVE THE BUGGY like a Roman chariot back into town, deaf to all of Claire’s cautions from her seat beside him. His gut was a ball of anxious nerves as he raced down Throckmorton Street toward the crowd gathered in front of Fortune’s Design. At his approach, the congregation parted, and he caught his first sight of the trio sporting pigtails and worried smiles. Tye breathed for what seemed like the first time since the previous morning. The pressure suddenly present at the back of his eyes felt suspiciously like tears.

The Blessings, home safe and sound. Thank God.

I’m gonna kill them
.

“Uncle Tye!” they cried in a chorus as he yanked the buggy to a stop, vaulted to the ground, knelt, and swept all three of his nieces into his arms. They smelled dirty and dusty and so damned good. For a long moment he held them, his eyes closed, his heart full.

“Oh, Uncle Tye,” Katrina said, her voice muffled against his shirt. “I’m so glad to be home.”

He couldn’t speak. He opened his eyes, and his gaze met Claire’s. Tears spilled from her eyes as she sent him the purest, sweetest smile. His heart overflowed.

A hundred questions fired in his mind, but for now he remained content to absorb the reality of the moment. Gradually, however, he grew aware of the world beyond these three shining faces and Claire’s weepy one.

What looked like half of Fort Worth swarmed around them. He spied the sheen of wetness on nearly every third person’s face. He overheard snippets of the other two-thirds’ conversations, enough to piece together a pair of troublesome facts. First, the girls apparently had driven Big Jack Bailey’s buckboard into town, and second, the wealthy rancher himself rode into Fort Worth with them, propped upright in the back of the wagon with his leg wrapped in bandages.

Big Jack Bailey
. Tye’s blood ran cold.

Behind him he heard Patrick Donovan ask, “Who is Big Jack Bailey?”

Wilhemina Peters’s distinctive voice replied, “Big Jack owns the Lucky Lady ranch southeast of town, and he’s the richest man in this part of Texas. Meanest, too. Or at least, he used to be the meanest, but ever since he tangled with Lord McBride and Jenny and Mr. Trace, he seems to have sweetened up a bit.”

“What happened?”

Tye tuned out the other murmurings of the crowd, zeroing in on Wilhemina. “Bailey claims that Jenny dabbles in voodoo,” she was saying. “She threatened to curse his grandbaby if he ever went near her family again. Nobody in town believes it, of course, other than Big Jack. But he does believe, and that’s what has everyone in such a state here this morning. We can’t imagine what the Menaces are doing with him. He shot Lord McBride, you know. In the shoulder. Almost killed him and almost caused dear Jenny to lose her baby.”

Wilhemina paused a moment, then added, “Your sister is friends with the McBrides. Miss Donovan? Where do you think the Menaces have been? Why do you guess they were driving his wagon?”

“I don’t know.”

Neither did Tye, but he reckoned it was time to find out. Slowly he unwrapped himself from the Blessings and climbed to his feet. He stepped forward, toward the wagon, and shot Big Jack Bailey a lethal look.

“Now don’t be jumping to conclusions,” the rancher said, tilting his broad-brimmed, brown felt hat back off his forehead. “Nothing bad happened to these girls. Unless you count being heroines and saving a man’s life as a bad thing.”

Tye loomed over Bailey. “Explain.”

Big Jack struggled to sit up straighter. “Your nieces saved my life, McBride. A rattler got me. I’d fallen in a gully just off the trail to the Lucky Lady. They came and they saved me.”

Tye twisted his head to look at his nieces. “At the Lucky Lady? What in the world were you doing out at the Lucky Lady ranch?”

Katrina stepped forward and clasped her hand dramatically against her chest. “It was my dream that started it all.”

“No it wasn’t.” Maribeth shoved her aside. “It was Spike who started it all, Uncle Tye. Kat wouldn’t have had the dream if not for Spike.”

Emma braced her hands on her hips. “You’re both wrong. I’m the one—”

“Enough.” Tye threw Claire a “help me” look.

She said, “Emma, why don’t you begin the tale for your uncle?”

The oldest girl nodded, sucked in a big breath, then recited in a rush. “We were talking about lizards when we went to sleep night before last. Lizards led us to horny toads and we decided to have our own horny-toad hunt like you and Miss Claire did, Uncle Tye. So we asked Spike questions about what direction we should go to find good hunting this year, and we whittled it down to an area out near the Lucky Lady. Then Kat had her dream about Big Jack.”

“It was
sooooooo
scary.” The young girl’s eyes rounded like saucers, and she clasped her hands and shivered. “The lizard turned into a horny toad, and that turned into a snake. I saw it bite Mr. Big Jack. He screamed like a banshee.”

The crowd buzzed with reaction to that. Bailey protested. “I didn’t scream. I may have hollered a bit, but I didn’t scream.”

Kat’s chin came up and her nose wrinkled. “In my dream you did. Loud. Anyway, I woke up and I felt this…this…this need to go look for Mr. Big Jack.”

Maribeth nodded. “It was strange, Uncle Tye. It was like she was in a trance. Nothing was going to stop her from going, so Em and I thought we’d best go with her. And you know what? She led us right to him.”

“I did.” Katrina nodded sharply.

Emma cleared her throat. “Mr. Bailey was drifting in and out of consciousness, but he managed to tell us how to save him.”

Bailey nodded. “It was a struggle, but I managed it.”

Tye scratched skeptically at his day-old beard and glanced at Claire, looking to see how she was taking the story. She wore her disbelief like a shawl. So, she wasn’t buying it any more than he. Good. He’d been afraid his lack of sleep might be interfering with his ability to think. In a soft, southern drawl, he asked, “And just what did my nieces do to treat your snakebite, Bailey?”

“The usual. They read three verses of Matthew, Chapter One, and called my name after every sentence they read.”

“I even read one sentence,” Kat added. “Some of the words were very hard, but Emma helped me.” She smiled at her older sibling. “She’s a good sister sometimes.”

“Of course, we had to go fetch a Bible first, Uncle Tye,” Maribeth said, continuing the wild explanation. “Since we were closer to the Lucky Lady big house, we went there to find one rather than come back to town. It was our bad luck all the men were out rounding up cattle or we could have had help.”

“And sent word back to town,” Emma added. “You see, Uncle Tye, by the time he recovered enough for us to leave him, it was too late to start back to town. It would have been too dangerous to travel in pitch-dark. We had to wait for moonrise. So that’s why we were a little late getting home. We had to save Mr. Big Jack Bailey.”

The three girls looked at one another, nodded, then smiled angelically at their uncle.

Tye didn’t believe this hogwash for a minute, although he did have to give them credit for a good delivery. They must have practiced it for hours.

Bailey spoke up. “I sure am grateful they showed up when they did. I was halfway to heaven. Could all but see Saint Peter smiling down at me, and fact of the matter is, I’m not ready to meet up with the old guy yet.”

Someone from the crowd called out. “Ain’t much of a chance of that, Big Jack. Saint Peter ain’t the one who’ll be giving you the howdy on the other side.”

The rancher showed his teeth and growled. “You hush your mouth, Brent Archer. I’m dancing to a new tune these days. Why, I even gave these sweet little girls a reward for saving my life.”

“Well, I swan,” Wilhemina murmured. “Big Jack’s known for pinching pennies almost as much as for his superstitions. I must mention this tidbit in my newspaper column.” She pulled a pad of paper and a pencil from her bag and called in a loud voice, “How much of a reward?”

“Thirty dollars.”

Thirty dollars
. At that, Tye jerked his head around to meet Claire’s gaze. He watched her mouth the words,
Oh, those girls. They are Menaces
.

This time, Tye had to agree.

***

CLAIRE HAD watched the children tell their unbelievable story and wondered if they had half a clue of the grief they’d put their poor uncle through. Someone needed to take those children in hand. As Tye knelt once again and took his nieces back into his arms, she had serious doubts that he’d be the one to do it.

“They need their parents,” she murmured to herself with a sigh. Those girls desperately needed someone who wasn’t afraid to discipline them. Someone like John or Peggy Donovan, who knew just how to keep a mischievous daughter out of trouble.

Even when that daughter was all grown up
.

Claire closed her eyes. Now that the Menaces were home, she would be forced to rejoin the battle with her da. At that realization, irritability threatened to overtake the euphoria she’d felt since learning the girls had returned safely. When Tye climbed up into Big Jack’s buckboard and addressed the gathering, she was grateful to return her attention to the McBrides.

“I want to thank everyone for their help in looking for my nieces,” he said. “I know if my brother and his wife were here, they’d thank you too. Fort Worth truly looks after its own. Now, I don’t know about y’all, but I’m dog tired and played out. I think I’ll take my Blessings home and put my feet up for a time.”

Slowly the crowd dispersed, many of the folk pausing long enough to give the girls a hug or pat on the head. “He was right,” Claire said to her brother, observing the scene. “I know the townspeople love to complain about the girls’ mischief-making, but they certainly gave their all when they thought the Blessings were in danger.”

Tye sauntered up beside them and extended his hand toward Patrick. “I appreciate your family’s help more than I can say. Please pass along my thanks to all the Donovans.”

Patrick accepted Tye’s handshake and his gratitude, then turned to his sister. “I’m going back to the bakery. Claire, are you coming?”

Tye touched her sleeve and spoke in a low tone. “Would you mind hanging around for a bit? There is more to this story than the girls are letting on. Something tells me I can use the benefit of a female mind while I get to the bottom of this.”

She agreed without hesitation. Patrick had to whisper in her ear about it for a moment because he wasn’t comfortable with the amount of time she was spending with the McBrides. After promising to make the visit a short one, she secured his word on seeing to her horse and buggy.

Tye muttered something about overprotective brothers when he slipped his hands around her waist and swung her up onto the buckboard’s seat. Claire didn’t even think of arguing with that. Next he told the girls to hop into the back for the short trip to Willow Hill. Bailey protested, claiming his snakebite required a doctor’s attention, but Tye discounted his claims by pointing out that the rancher had already proclaimed himself saved. Another half-hour or so shouldn’t adversely affect his health.

They made a brief stop at the telegraph office to send word of the girls’ safety to Beatrice West and the other out-of-towners Tye had contacted, then continued on to Willow Hill. Except for the clatter of wagon wheels, the drive took place mostly in silence. Exhaustion was setting in.

When the wagon rolled to a stop in the front drive, Tye ordered his nieces and Big Jack Bailey into Trace’s office. “Miss Donovan and I will join you directly.”

“Could we eat breakfast first, Uncle Tye?” Maribeth asked. “We sure are hungry.”

He handed her the basket Claire had brought to the river. “Grab a muffin and wait for me inside.”

The sweet perfume of roses drifted from the garden as Claire stood beside the wagon, waiting for Tye to speak. He shuffled his feet, rubbed at his eyes, then sighed heavily. Finally she lost her patience. “Tye? What are we waiting for?”

He scratched his day-old beard and gazed toward the room where his nieces were waiting. “You caught the bit about thirty dollars?”

“Yes.”

“This wasn’t any snakebite rescue. They cooked something up with Bailey.”

“Yes, I think you’re right.”

He scowled and began to pace back and forth across the front porch steps. “I don’t care what he or they or anyone else says, that man is dangerous. I have a hole in my shoulder that says so. The Blessings went too far this time.” He halted abruptly and shot Claire a look. “I’m going to have to punish them.”

“I think that’s a wise decision.”

“But I don’t want to punish them.”

“Yes, I know.”

“I don’t know how.”

She rolled her eyes. For such a strong, masculine man, he acted like such a little boy at times. “Sure you do, Tye. You think of what your brother would do under the circumstances, then you do the same thing.”

“Yeah. I guess. But I know Emma will do that wounded-doe imitation with her eyes. Katrina will suck her thumb, and Mari will look everywhere but at me. I hate it when they do that.” He again gave a heavy sigh. “Guess we’d better go in. I don’t like leaving them alone with Bailey.”

They heard a buzz of conversation as they approached the office. It stopped as soon as Tye turned the doorknob. Inside, Big Jack Bailey sat in Trace’s big leather chair, smoking a cigar and sipping whiskey. Claire thought he intended to be intimidating. He hadn’t quite pulled it off.

Tye dismissed Bailey with a look and turned to the girls. “I’d like to hear the rest of your story now.”

“What rest of the story, Uncle Tye?” Maribeth asked.

Tye scratched behind his ear. “I think there is a piece or two of this puzzle missing.”

Maribeth looked at Emma. “Can you think of anything we left out?”

Emma shook her head. “Not me. What about you, Kat?”

Wide-eyed, Katrina stuck her thumb in her mouth and shook her head.

Tye met Claire’s gaze, silently saying
I told you so
.