Twice a Texas Bride (28 page)

The eerie quiet raised the hair on Rand's neck. Where had Fleming and his brothers gone?

The Colt was in Rand's hand the minute he left the kitchen. He took a zigzag path to the barn. He darted to the large live oak tree, then to the woodpile. From there, he moved to the tepee that Toby hadn't gotten to play in of late.

A quick glance inside told him no one hid in there.

Crow Bait raised his head from the winter grass he was grazing on next to the barn. Rand sprinted toward the building, collecting the animal as he went. When Rand opened the barn door, the horse trotted inside and went directly to his stall. Rand carefully drew the door closed and groped about in the inky darkness.

Though light made things more dangerous, Rand couldn't do what he must in the pitch black. He lit the lantern, keeping it away from the door and praying that it wouldn't attract trouble.

With his gun within easy reach, Rand fed the horses while listening for any sound outside. He worked quickly and as silently as he was able. He didn't aim to leave Callie and the children unprotected any longer than necessary.

The cow mooed low, giving thanks, Rand supposed, for easing her swollen udders. At last, the pail brimmed with fresh milk.

He blew out the lantern and rubbed his hands together to warm them, preparing to return to the house. With a firm grip on the pail, he slipped out the barn door into the shadows. Pressing against the side, he stilled, scanning the tree line for movement.

Other than a bird taking flight, nothing moved.

The bent, naked limbs of a nearby elm tree stuck out like bony witch's fingers. And beyond that, the dark house sat as though silently weeping.

Icy foreboding clawed up his spine.

Hiding in the deep shadows, Rand ignored the jagged pain in his shoulder and drew a ragged breath into his lungs. After several minutes, he began to move, darting from shadow to shadow. He finally reached the tepee. Though some of the milk had sloshed from the pail, it still appeared three-fourths full.

A short distance to the tree and he'd be home free.

Rand took a deep breath and sprinted for the live oak tree. Midway, a shot rang out, spraying the dirt at his feet.

So, the varmints were still there.

Taking refuge behind the tree, he readied for the last leg, praying Callie would have the door unbolted.

The sudden rifle shots coming from inside the house caught him by surprise. Callie was providing cover. He slid the Colt into his holster to free his hand and took off, making himself as small a target as possible.

His boot slipped on the porch step as he reached for the knob, and milk splattered the wooden stoop. He didn't have time to bemoan the fact, praying it wasn't too much. Thankfully, the knob turned, and when the door swung open, he hurried inside.

He'd made it.

Except for a sliver of pale winter moonlight shining through the broken window at the kitchen counter, the room was dark. Rand leaned against the door frame in an effort to catch his breath. Then Callie took the pail of milk and helped him push the table back into place.

“I guess that answers our questions,” Callie murmured shakily.

“Yep. They're still there.” Rand put his arm around her. His wife was one brave woman. Whatever needed done—be it taking up arms, putting a wheel back on the wagon, or rocking Wren to sleep—she rolled up her sleeves and jumped in. “I'm so proud of you, Callie.”

She touched his cheek. “I haven't done anything that anyone else wouldn't do, so don't be making more of it than it is.”

“No, ma'am. Wouldn't hear of it.”

Two more shots rang out and the window in the door shattered into a million fragments. Rand jerked Callie to the floor and shielded her with his body. Toby screamed from the front of the house. Wren lent her shrieking cries to the bedlam.

“You go to the children,” Rand yelled. “I'll make sure Fleming and his brothers don't get inside.”

Callie pressed the Winchester into his hands and ran to calm Toby and Wren.

Lifting a box of cartridges from a shelf, Rand laid them on the kitchen counter and took a position at the window. “It's you and me, Fleming,” he muttered. “You'll have a hell of a time getting
my
son. If this is what you want, you've got it.”

As though in answer to Rand's challenge, a volley of shots peppered the small kitchen. He took cover until the firing stopped.

When it did, he rose and looked out into the blackness. A tall figure crept toward the back door, perhaps emboldened by the lack of return fire.

“Your mistake, mister,” Rand said through gritted teeth a second before he pulled the trigger.

The man went down. “I'm hit, Nate,” he cried.

Someone ran from the side of the tepee, firing as he went, and dragged the wounded man to safety.

One down and two to go. Make that one to go, since Callie had shot Nate Fleming in the arm when they'd been inside the barn.

Rand had no doubt he could hold them off until morning. Once daylight came, help was sure to come. He flexed his shoulder to rid some of the pain gripping him and inserted another cartridge into the rifle. Best to keep it fully loaded.

Glancing out again, he saw a dark-clothed form running from tree to tree. Calmly, he took aim. The minute he caught the man without cover, he squeezed the trigger.

The bullet crossed the space between Rand and the outlaw. It must've slammed into the man's leg because he grabbed for his thigh before the darkness swallowed him up.

After a period of several hours with no more bursts of gunfire, Rand breathed a deep sigh.

He'd repelled the attack, it seemed. By now, the outlaw brothers were probably somewhere licking their wounds. A comforting thought made it easier to breathe—at least with them nursing injuries, they would leave Mariah alone.

A noise from behind alerted him to Callie. “How are the children?”

“Sleeping. How are you holding up?”

“Shoulder hurts like the dickens, but I'll be fine.” He opened up an arm and she walked into his embrace, laying her head on his chest. “I haven't heard or seen anything out there for a while. I think they've retreated for now.”

“Why don't you try to get a little sleep, Rand? I can stand guard for a bit. Rest your shoulder, if nothing else.”

He cursed the fact that they had no light, because he'd have loved to crawl into Callie's warm amber gaze and stay awhile. “I think I might, but only if you're sure you're not afraid to keep watch. I'll go check on the children and rest a bit.”

Before he headed to the parlor, Rand took one more minute to savor the feel of Callie against him. Confident that he could find her mouth even if he were blind, he had no trouble in the dim shadows.

Callie's upturned face, her mouth, drew him like a thirsty man to water.

Hunger for her consumed him as he slanted a kiss across her lips. Her soft breath mingled with his in this fleeting moment of quiet uncertainty.

Then, releasing her, he turned toward the front of the house. When he got to the doorway, he turned for one last glimpse to store up just in case they didn't make it to sunrise.

* * *

As Callie watched Rand disappear into the gloom, she covered her mouth to keep the sob from spilling forth.

The kiss had almost undone her. She wished she could've kissed him with every single bit of the love inside her, but he knew her so well and would've known she was saying good-bye.

She knew what she had to do, yet the wreckage of her broken heart lay scattered and twisted. If only there were some other way. Even as she made the wish, she knew fate had stolen the other choices, leaving only one.

An agonizing eternity passed while she waited to make sure Rand wouldn't stop her.

When all was quiet, she crept upstairs to their bedroom, freezing at each deafening creak and groan of the old house. Once she reached their sanctuary without detection, she took the treasure box from a drawer and removed the priceless jewelry, putting the pieces into her pocket along with the little derringer Rand had given her after they married.

Then, finding paper and pencil, she hurriedly wrote a note in the darkness.

With the note in hand, she retraced her steps to the bottom floor and peeked into the parlor for one last glance at Rand and the children.

Most folks would say that she'd gone around picking up strays, but that wasn't the case.
She
was the stray. They'd opened their hearts to her and given her more than she could ever repay. Guilt at leaving this way tore at her. She prayed Rand would understand and eventually forgive her. Even so, she knew she was betraying his trust. She was walking out on him like he'd feared from the start.

“I love you, my darling,” she whispered.

The pain was so great, she could scarcely breathe. She knew when she walked out the door, she'd never see them again.

Even if by chance Nate didn't end her life, her betrayal of Rand would be complete. He'd never take her back.

Dashing away the tears that streamed down her face, she moved into the kitchen, placing the note on the table in clear view. Giving one last look around, she slipped silently out the door and into the night.

Everything was quiet. Nothing moved but the slight breeze that ruffled her hair. She pulled her coat tighter and set out.

Though she had only a vague idea of where Limestone Bluff was, she didn't worry. Nate Fleming would pounce on her before she got close.

She bypassed the barn, deciding that Crow Bait had been overstressed of late. Nor did she think about taking Blue. Rand would need the gelding. Besides, she only had to go two miles. She could walk.

The sudden hoot of an owl made her jump, but she picked her way forward. In the darkness, a thorny bush reached out and grabbed her dress. She jerked free and continued.

About a mile from the house, on the banks of a small stream, she sat down to rest. The sky had lightened to an ash gray.

As they so often did, her thoughts turned to Rand. She wondered what he'd think when he woke to find her gone. Would he hate her for walking out in the night while he rested?

She recalled his plea from another time when she'd thought leaving was her only option.

Please…for God's sake, don't let me wake up one morning and find no sign of you anywhere
, he'd pleaded.

She had changed her mind back then and stayed. Only this time was different. She did this not for herself, but to save Mariah. Her daughter couldn't wait for Cooper or Brett to show up. Rand would argue that it was his place to save her. Yet she didn't see it that way. He was wounded. She was healthy. Besides, her body had nurtured her daughter for nine months. She was the mother, and mothers did what they had to do to ensure their children's safety.

Especially when she'd failed so miserably before. She had to find redemption and get Mariah back.

“This is the only way,” she murmured. The trickling stream seemed to agree.

Callie rose and trudged on. In the blush of dawn, she could see the craggy landscape of Limestone Bluff in the distance.

Her breath fogged in the chilly air. A voice inside her head seemed to say,
Hurry, hurry
.

A rabbit skittered suddenly from the brush, catching her attention. When she glanced up, a man blocked her path. He held a deadly pistol pointed at her heart.

“Well, lookee here,” Nate said. “I 'spect that long walk done tuckered you out. Ain't that right? Been waitin'. Knew you'd come.”

Fear sat like a scalding lump in the back of Callie's throat. Now that she was face-to-face with the devil, she rummaged for the courage that seemed to have fled. After a long moment, she straightened her spine.

She would do what she came for. Somehow or another.

“Hello, Nate. It's time you and I settled a score.”

“Found me all right. Reckon it's time for the little party I planned for you.” Though his lazy grin could make some women's hearts all aflutter, Callie only saw the evil lurking behind the curved lips and flashing eyes.

She found satisfaction in the bloody bandana tied around his upper arm. She wished she'd shot him dead.

Nate cruelly grabbed her and yanked her face close to his. She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out. She would not give him that power over her. Power and control was what the outlaw thrived on.

“We need to talk,” Callie said. “I have something you want.”

“Don't think so. Don't see my son anywhere.” He shoved her up the trail.

“You may change your mind after you hear me out,” she threw over her shoulder.

Nate Fleming grunted and pushed her forward.

Limestone Bluff was bare of vegetation, and that gave Nate and his brothers the advantage. They could see anyone coming long before they reached the hiding place. A few hundred yards farther and they arrived at the narrow place in the rocks that Rand had described. She squeezed through and found herself beneath a large outcropping. Two men sat near a campfire, nursing wounds. Nate's brothers, she assumed.

Mariah was nowhere to be seen. Her heart thudded painfully against her chest. Was she too late?

“Virgil, look what I found,” Nate said.

“Reckon you done found us some entertainment, brother,” Virgil said, getting to his feet. He wore a long duster and a thin smile that was even more sinister than Nate's. A brushy, black mustache added to the coiled danger radiating from the man. “Me an' Emmett was about to get bored. We got a powerful need for female companionship.”

With a quick glance, Callie sized up Emmett. If her plan didn't work, he'd be the one she'd appeal to for help. His gentle eyes held a measure of compassion.

Nate threw her to the ground. “Later. Me an' her have unsettled business, don't we, girl?”

Callie sat up, ignoring the stinging pain from the places where the rocks had scraped the hide from her legs and hands. “I came to offer you a deal. It's the only one you're going to get, so you might want to give it some thought.”

She prayed they wouldn't search her and find the derringer and jewelry. Again, she scanned the area for signs of Mariah and at last spied what appeared to be a bundle of rags lying near a limestone boulder. The rags moved and she knew she'd found her daughter.

Nate narrowed his eyes and returned his gun to his holster. “You thinkin' to trick ol' Nate? I told you I want my son. That's the only deal I'll buy into.”

“Toby would rather be dead than be with you.”

The outlaw jerked her up by the hair and slapped her hard, snapping her head to the side. “I'm his father an' no one else. I'm sick of that man of yours tryin' to take my place.” He delivered another stinging blow. “You've turned my boy against me, an' I'll make you pay dearly.”

Callie wiped the blood from her lip and glared. “Just listen to what I have to say.”

“I reckon I'm a reasonable man. Wouldn't you say so, Emmett?”

“Yep, you sure are a reasonable man, Nate,” Emmett replied. “Guess that's why Mama always liked you best.”

Nate ran a finger slowly down the row of buttons on her dress. “I wonder just how much alike sisters are.”

Desperate to bring the attention back to her reason for coming, Callie lowered her voice so only Nate could hear. “I have something that'll get your attention, but you might not want to share it with your brothers.”

Nate turned and said, “You boys get some coffee made. Me an' sweet Miss Callie are gonna get reacquainted.” He gripped her arm. “This had better be good, or I'll cut out your gizzard an' feed it to your daughter.”

“One stipulation…Mariah has to come with us.”

“Nope. She'll stay here with the boys.”

Callie shrugged as though it meant nothing to her. It took everything she had to keep her face passive. Nate pushed her through the opening with such force she lost her footing and met the ground with a bone-jarring thud.

“I want to make a deal,” she said, struggling to breathe. With great effort, she rose to her feet. “My daughter and Toby in exchange for something that's worth a small fortune.”

“No favors for you, sister-in-law?” He lifted a tendril of hair. “Maybe I'll keep you alive longer if you prove to be good at pleasuring me.”

She twisted away from him. “I've accepted my fate. I only want to buy my daughter's and Toby's freedom. Nothing more.”

“Where is this fortune?”

“Somewhere close. Are you willing to bargain?”

Nate's eyes glittered and he rubbed his chin. Greed had always ruled him. “Depends. Gotta see it first.”

Hope rose that her plan would still work. She turned her back to him and removed her legacy from her pocket, along with the derringer. Swinging back around, she held out the ring and brooch, holding them so that the sunlight caught the stones. As she imagined, his black eyes shimmered with lust for the priceless treasures.

The minute he snatched them from her, she leveled the little pistol on him. “Give me my daughter. Send her out or you're dead,” she ordered, her voice hard.

“Don't think so. I reckon I'll keep these trinkets an' the girl. You always trusted too easily.”

As cocky as ever. Not much had changed there.

“I'm the one holding this derringer.”

“But I have your daughter. One word from me and she's dead,” he said silkily, leaning closer to her.

Wary, Callie took a step back. She knew Nate was right, but if she could kill him before he gave that one word…

With black eyes that glistened like the eyes of a serpent, he watched her every move.

She renewed her grip around the derringer. She backed up again but was met with the rock wall. She'd gone as far as she could go.

Just as she fired, he lunged and grabbed her wrist, yanking her arm skyward. The bullet went into the brush.

A second blurred movement of his hand produced his Colt from the holster. He pressed it to her forehead. “I should put a bullet in you right now.”

Despair swept over Callie. She'd played her last card and come up short. He would kill Mariah first and make her watch. He took great pleasure from watching people suffer. Nate Fleming delighted in toying with them.

Dear God, how would she bear the horror of seeing him snuff out her daughter's life?

The knot that had been in her stomach since yesterday tightened until she could barely breathe. The need to retch rose up. “But you won't shoot me.” She flashed him an icy stare. “It's too quick. You enjoy killing too much. You like watching the light go out of your victims' eyes. You killed Claire very slowly.”

“She deserved everything she got.” Nate stuck the ring and brooch into his pocket. “Never wanted to be a wife to me, an' she turned my son into a namby-pamby. Something I aim to rectify.”

“I've wondered how you made Claire so ill. Poison?”

A grin flashed. “I was pretty proud I thought of it. Stole some purple nightshade from an old Chinaman. Just gave her a little at first to make her sick, then kept adding more and more until her poor faithless heart gave out.”

Callie remembered the violent retching, headaches, confusion, and inability to walk. Claire suffered an agonizing death. Hate for this man ate at her like a canker sore. Yet she held her tongue. Maybe by some miracle she could still rescue Mariah. It would do no good to rile him worse.

He motioned her back through the opening, backhanding her to hurry her along. “Get me some rope, Virgil. Gotta tie up this hellcat. She tried to shoot me.”

“You're losing your touch, brother,” Emmett said, throwing a piece of wood onto the fire. “Never trust a woman.”

Though blood filled Callie's mouth, her attention was on the young girl who crawled toward her.

Her daughter. Her Mariah.

Tears brimmed in Callie's eyes. At last she could see the child they'd stolen from her. Silent sobs rose. Before she could touch the girl to make sure she wasn't a dream, Nate yanked her hands behind her back and tied them with a piece of rope.

“Come say hello to your mama, gal,” Nate hollered, then burst into mad laughter. “Too bad she can't save your sorry hide.”

Mariah must've been a very pretty little girl before Nate got his hands on her. The brown hair curling around her face gave her the appearance of an angel. But it was the luminous dark eyes that drew Callie's attention. They seemed to peer deep inside her soul, finding the things she'd hidden.

The little girl's lips were blue from the cold. Mariah's thin dress, torn and dirty, provided no protection from the elements. Dried blood and grime covered one side of her face.

Mariah's quiet voice trembled. “Is it true? Are you my mama?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“What took you so long? I waited and waited all these years, but you didn't come.”

The words cut Callie to the quick. She struggled with the ropes binding her hands. If only she could draw Mariah to her and shelter her from all the evil in the world.

“I didn't know where you were, honey. I searched for you. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help. I can see you're cold. Do you have a coat?”

The girl whimpered and shook her head.

Guilt wracked Callie for the warm coat she wore. She strained at her ropes and got them to loosen a tiny bit. Or maybe she imagined it. Her glance found Nate holding his hands to the fire. Would he untie her so she could get her coat off? It seemed about as unlikely as becoming a bird and flying out of this desolate place.

“I'm scared,” the girl whispered.

“I know, sweetheart. If you'll get in my lap, you can snuggle into my coat and find some warmth. Can you do that?” It was all Callie could offer at the moment, and she prayed it would be enough.

A second later, her daughter pressed against her and drew the coat around her thin body. For a moment, Callie could pretend that everything was all right.

She closed her eyes, savoring her angel baby's slight weight, the feel of the small heart beating next to hers.

“I'm going to take care of you now,” she promised as her heart slowly shattered.

* * *

Sometime in the early dawn, Toby shook Rand. “Mama's gone. Cain't find her anyplace.”

Rand jolted awake. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he sat up. “Maybe she's upstairs.”

“Nope. I looked. I think she wrote you a letter.” Toby handed him a scrap of paper.

My dearest Rand,

Please forgive me for running out on you. I have to save my daughter or I can't live with myself. I know you'll take care of the children. Thank you for giving me so much happiness. I'll love you until my heart stops beating. Your name will be the last word on my lips.

Callie

The note slipped from Rand's fingers, and he sagged against the back of the sofa. Shards of pain sliced through his chest, making it impossible to breathe. He wouldn't have been in as much agony if someone had reached in and ripped his beating heart out.

This was far worse because it
hadn't
killed him.

This was a living death to be endured with no relief. His worst fear was realized. Callie had left him like all the others had.

She was gone and he knew she wouldn't come back.

His tortured lungs screamed with the need for air. She hadn't trusted him to get Mariah back and save their family.

She had no faith in him.

All the love, all the times he'd poured out his heart to her, all his promises had meant nothing. She'd left like all the others. Walked out in the dead of night.

And maybe that's what hurt worse than anything—that she didn't have the courage to look him in the eye and tell him that she didn't love him enough to stay.

When Toby crowded next to him and laid his head on his chest, Rand pulled him close, burying his face in the boy's hair. How could she have left their children who loved her so? How? He'd seen her love for them, at least. She may have hidden her true feeling for him. But not for them. Wren and Toby meant everything to her.

“Don't cry, Papa. It makes me sad. When is my mama coming home?”

“I don't know, son.” He hadn't the heart to tell him the truth.

“Will she go away like my real mama and never come back?”

How could he tell the boy…

I'll love you until my heart stops beating. Your name will be the last word on my lips.

No. He couldn't believe it was all a lie.

With hope in his heart, he lifted the note and read it once more. Bit by bit his brain took in the meaning of her words. He suddenly realized he was wrong. She did trust him. She'd made her choice, not because she thought him incapable, but because she felt she didn't fight hard enough for her baby seven years ago. In her mind, she had to do it now. And in addition to her daughter, she was looking for redemption for herself. His pain eased just a little as pride took over.

She'd known the likelihood that Fleming would kill her was almost guaranteed, and yet she'd faced down her fears and gone anyway.

For Mariah, the child she'd lost.

The depth of a mother's love knew no bounds.

Rand got to his feet. He had to find Callie. He truly understood the depth of her love, and she was about to understand the depth of his.

He would not let this end this way. Fleming did not get to decide who lived and who died.