Family on the Range

Chapter Six

Lou was sitting by the window when he saw a mare race into the yard. The horse pranced nervously near the porch before galloping toward the stables. An empty saddle went with her.

Biting back an oath, he rose from his spot, palming the wall until his vision became normal and the dizziness passed. His legs felt rubbery, but somehow he made it to the post of his bed. James had helped him earlier to the window. Now Lou wished he’d left some crutches in the room. He could barely breathe.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he shuffled to the opposite bedpost, the one closest to the door. Don’t fail me, he urged his body. Finally, his neck clammy and a sheen of sweat pebbling his forearms, he made it to the door.

“James,” he shouted. His voice sounded like a croak. Scowling, he tried again. The sound of footsteps padded up the stairs. Little feet.

He’d never been so glad to see Josie. He rested his head against the door frame and waited for the girl to appear. Sure enough, she plopped herself right under his gaze, a big smile on her face.

“Hey, Mister Lou. Whatcha want?”

“Get me James,” he said.

“Okeydokey.”

She pattered off, but the image of her guileless face remained, taunting him with memories. Swallowing past his dry throat, he allowed himself to slide to the ground.

In moments, James was clumping up the stairs, his breaths heavy and labored. Lou saw his feet stop at the head of the stairs. “That whippersnapper said you was dying.”

Squinting, Lou looked up at the man who’d been with him for so long, a former doctor whom Mary had taken from a life of homelessness on the streets of Burns and brought to the ranch for healing from too much drink.

He tried to keep his voice steady and careful. “Mary come back yet?”

James heaved, bending at the waist and meeting Lou at eye level. “You sayin’ you sent that stinker runnin’ like a herd of wild mustangs was after her, and you ain’t dying? You jest want Mary?”

“Did she take a horse?” Lou continued calmly, training his gaze on James.

James growled and straightened. “She did.”

“Check the stables, see if her horse returned.”

“Now, how’m I supposed to know which horse she took?”

“Find out.” The snarl took more energy than Lou thought it would.

“What’s going on?”

“Is Miss Mary missing?” A little voice trembled from the stairs, snagging Lou’s attention and putting an ache in the vicinity of his heart. He couldn’t meet her gaze. Something had happened to Mary and he hadn’t been there to protect her.

Just like Sarah.

Sourness coated the roof of his mouth.

“Don’t you worry, Josie. Everything is going to be okay.” He jerked his chin at James. “Pull out my car. We’re going to town.”

For once, the old man didn’t argue about driving a fancy Ford.

Soon, they were on their way to Burns. Lou stared out the window, his whole body aching, his worry amplifying every pain. Getting down the stairs had proved to be a terrible chore, one that had required lots of stops and support. He grimaced at his reflection, knowing he looked haggard and not caring one iota.

His strength might be on the low side, but James said the wound looked to be healing nicely. Only a few more days and he ought to be able to hunt that shooter down, if the bureau or local police hadn’t found him already. He’d check on that in town.

He felt his lips tugging farther downward. Where was Mary? If anything happened to her.... He clenched his legs, letting his fingers dig into his thigh, needing a different kind of pain to take his thoughts from what his life might be like without her in it.

Even though, according to the telegram sitting in his room, in a few months’ time he might never see her again. Guilt joined the worry, creating a ruckus in his head.

“You’re quiet,” James remarked from the driver’s seat.

“Not much to talk on.”

“She’s probably fine. We’ll find her. Give her grief over this whole thing.”

“Watch out the window,” Lou said. “She could be laying somewhere, hurt.”

A rattler could’ve spooked her horse, and though Mary had been riding a long time, she didn’t have a close bond with any of the horses. They wouldn’t think twice about leaving her.

“I hope Josie behaves for Horn,” said James.

They’d left the girl with their neighbor, though she’d been unwilling. Only the presence of a fresh batch of puppies had seemed to mollify her.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine. Seemed happy enough with those pups.”

“You heard anything on your shooter?” James dodged a shrub growing in the middle of the road.

The movement jolted Lou, sending an arcing pain through his shoulder. He winced, waiting for it to subside. “Nah. They think he’s related somehow to that speakeasy we busted.” Enforcing prohibition laws didn’t necessarily fall into the bureau’s jurisdiction, but they’d found some creative loopholes to catch criminals. Whatever it took to capture the bad guys, Lou was for it.

They didn’t make any more small talk the rest of the way. A sick feeling persisted in Lou’s stomach. As they drove into Burns, he felt a new resolve take hold. They hadn’t found Mary on the way, which meant she should still be in town.

He was going to chew her out good.

Feeling grim, he shuffled behind James, a crutch under his good side’s arm and James on the bad side, supporting him. They entered the police station. James’s gait was stiff, and Lou was ready to punch something.

The feeling worsened when he saw Mary sitting on the bench. With her hair pulled back, neat and clean, and her profile strong, she looked neither worried nor scared, but serene.

A burst of adrenaline exploded inside Lou, rushing through his body with the power of a locomotive. He growled.

She startled, turning to face them, surprise plastered all over her face. Her mouth made an oval shape, and then she broke into a smile.

Heat shot through him, anger and fear melding into an emotion so powerful he could barely hold himself to where he stood. Yet he resisted, forcing a calm he didn’t feel, holding back when he wanted to yell and stomp the way Josie had when he’d taken away the cookies she’d filched yesterday morning.

Mary must’ve sensed his mood because she stood slowly, casting a look to James before meeting Lou’s eyes.

“You’re angry,” she stated, and the sound of her smooth voice flavored by exotic syllables only heightened his turmoil. “I can explain.”

“Get in the car.”

Her features changed, becoming impassive. “Thank you for coming to get me.”

He jerked his head to the door and watched as she glided past, head high, shoulders straight. She hadn’t learned that posture from her mother, or from Julia, Trevor’s mom. No, that walk was all Mary. Proud, graceful, aloof... Another growl erupted.

“Let’s go,” he said.

She made it to the car before they did. They found her in the back, staring blankly out the side window and not meeting their eyes. Once they’d cranked his tin lizzie and hit the road, Lou still found it hard to speak. He knew from past experience that yelling at Mary solved nothing.

Not that he liked to yell, but when she stared up at him with those deep brown eyes, passive and quiet, it stirred him up, made him itch to get her to respond to him, not to ignore him the way she did others.

* * *

“What happened, Mary?” James interrupted the horrible silence that had filled the car since they’d picked her up. She could feel tension radiating off Lou and it scared her stiff.

She swallowed hard, afraid to speak, afraid Lou might explode.

He’d never, ever lifted a hand toward her, not even during their most volatile argument years ago when she’d asked to let her mother come live with them. Intellectually, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

But emotionally... Sometimes she dreamed of the men who’d visited her mother. Sometimes she woke from nightmares, drenched in sweat, trying to rid her mind of the paralyzing fear that overtook her.

“Speak yer mind. I’ll boot this shot-up agent out of the car if he yells, okay?” James cast a crooked smile back at her. She attempted to lift her lips, though the pit of her stomach ached.

She glanced at the back of Lou’s head, marveling at the blondness of his hair, how it had grown too long and remained straight and fine. Not like her own thick locks. She’d inherited the Paiute ebony color but Irish curl. At least that was what her mother had always said.

She frowned. No one had seen Rose. It was as though she’d just disappeared. Kind of how the man with the violet eyes did when the police chief interrupted them on their walk toward town. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment as another wave of relief swept through her.

“Mary girl, are you okay?”

She opened them and looked at James. “There was an assault in Burns.”

The car jerked. “What did you say?”

Confident she could keep her voice steady despite the unrest raging inside, she nodded. “I was leading my mare out of town when I heard scuffling. A tethered stallion nearby was restless, so I brought the mare to the other side of the street. Two men in an alley were arguing—”

“You should have rode out of there,” Lou interrupted. His voice was gravelly and raw, completely unlike the talkative man she’d come to know through the years. Somehow this gunshot wound had changed him, and she wasn’t sure why.

“I didn’t want to alert them to my presence,” she responded defensively.

“You did the right thing,” said James.

His backup emboldened her. “As I tried to hurry past, there was a sharp sound, not a gunshot, but something striking a hard object. The horse startled and ran off on me. You should train them better,” she couldn’t help saying pointedly to Lou.

“So, that’s it?” James asked. “Why didn’t you borrow a horse and get on yer way? We’ve worried over you, Mary girl.”

She felt a flash of remorse, followed by unexpected warmth. Though she’d been housekeeper for these two men for twelve years, they’d all kept to themselves, minding their own business while maintaining an unspoken loyalty to each other. Since Josie had come, things had changed. The girl, or perhaps the familial situation, had tempered loyalty into a new bond, something stronger.

“You shouldn’t have worried,” she answered. “Once the sheriff stepped out to speak with me, all was well.”

“What happened with the scuffle you heard?”

The grate of Lou’s tone surprised her, but he was an agent, trained to pick up on minute details. She had been foolish to think she might hide anything from him.

Still, she hesitated to tell him for fear of what he might do.

“Girl, you’d best spit it out.” James waggled his eyebrows at her, perhaps trying to induce a smile.

But violence did not inspire smiles. Heart heavy, she looked at her clasped hands, debating whether to snag the lumpy-looking blanket on the floor to cover their coldness. “There was a man in the alley,” she finally said. The memory of that thud shuddered through her and she pressed her fingers more tightly together. “Beaten.”

“Is he dead?” asked Lou.

“The physician is not sure he’ll make it.”

“Who found the man?”

“Not me. But I pointed the way.”

“You just walked into the sheriff’s office and told him a man was in an alley beaten to a pulp.”

Irritated by Lou’s casual, almost sardonic tone, Mary frowned. This was the part she did not wish to share. She glanced out the window, at the rising mountains in the distance and the land she called home. “After the mare bolted, I walked toward the interior of Burns, hoping to catch Miss Alma to ask for a ride to Horn’s spread.” Their neighbor lived only miles away. “But as I walked, footsteps sounded behind me. Then caught up to me. A man desired to make conversation, and I obliged until we reached the heart of town.”

“What man?” Suspicion dripped off Lou’s words, thick and heavy.

“He does not matter. The sheriff will find him and I pray charge him. A man like that should not be allowed to roam.”

Lou shifted in his seat but did not turn to look at her.

“Are you in pain?” she asked gently. “I picked up a few things in town.”

“No,” he said, voice tight. “I want to know more about this man following you. Do you think he knows what you told the sheriff? If this man thinks you’re a threat—”

“I’m safe at my new house.” At least she hoped that to be true. Lately, Lou seemed anxious, and she did not know if his rattled emotions came from being confined to bed or if there was another reason, something secret.... She swallowed at the thought. “The man... I’ve met him before. He knows where we are and can come at any time to your ranch, but he does not know of my new home.”

“What do you mean you know him?” Lou swiveled and pinned her with a piercing blue glare.

“Remember the stranger who visited last week? He is one and the same.”

“What’s his name?”

“He never said, but he has violet eyes, like Josie.”

“He might be her guardian.” A thicket of hair fell over Lou’s brow as James bounced across the uneven terrain.

“He didn’t ask for a little girl,” Mary retorted. She did not care for the accusing look on Lou’s face, as though she had done something wrong or immoral. “This man is dangerous, and I don’t believe he has any right to Josie.”

Lou sighed and ran his palms down his face. “James, you heading to Horn’s to pick up Josie?”

“Fixin’ to veer off now.”

“Good. If we haven’t heard from the authorities about Josie’s family in a week’s time, we’ll take her to Portland ourselves. I have unfinished business there. The ranch isn’t safe for Josie. That man was there once and now he’s been sighted in Burns—”

“It’s too soon.” The protest rolled off her tongue before she could stop it. “You’ll reopen your wound.”

Lou grunted. “I’ll be fine. Someone must be looking for her. James wired the bureau for me days ago, and they think they’ve found Josie’s mom. If not, we’ll track down another relative.”

They knew? Even the police hadn’t been in touch with her. She slumped down. It was for the best. It had to be.

Movement on the floor startled a gasp out of her.

The blankets reshuffled and out of their haphazard mound popped a blond head. Josie scowled up at Lou. “I’m not going back and you can’t make me.”

Chapter Seven

Why did the man have to be so stubborn?

Mary’s legs itched to pace, but she squelched the urge and forced herself to sit quietly as Lou moved across his living room floor. Only days after Lou had picked her up from the sheriff’s and announced that Josie was going home, he insisted he was well enough to travel into Portland.

Truthfully, he’d made it down the stairs on his own, but that did not mean he was fit for travel. She eyed the way he shuffled across the floor, noting the pallid tone of his handsome face because he insisted on venting his frustration by moving about. No, he needed more time to recover.

More important, Josie did not wish to live with her family. Specifically her uncle, who she’d confessed to being the stranger who’d visited. The little girl’s alarm fueled Mary’s own dismay. Surely a man wanted for the kind of assault he’d dished out on the man in the alley should not have the care of a child. Not to mention the way he’d ogled Mary....

“Did you hear me?” Lou stopped in front of her, a frown on his full lips.

She lifted her gaze to his. “I did not hear.”

His hands sliced through the air in an impatient gesture. “Pack a bag. We’re leaving tomorrow morning. If you don’t pack, you’re not coming. I’ve received information that reports Josie’s mom has returned to Portland.”

“It is a large city,” she said slowly. “Do you suggest we knock on each door?”

Lou grinned, the movement lighting his face and tugging at her heart. Here was the smile she’d missed, the crinkle around his eyes and curve in his cheek. “That, my dear, is taken care of. We’ve an address, and I already sent a telegram requesting a meeting with the mother.”

She picked at her skirt, unable to bear looking at the triumph splayed across his features. This would be the end, then.

“Mary, aren’t you happy?” He dropped down in front of her. She saw the wince that flashed across his face before he masked it. Eyes alight, he peered at her. “She needs her home. Her mother. This place is no good for a child. I’m going to make sure she and her mother are protected.”

He was right, of course. Allowing Josie to stay only fulfilled her desires. A lonely desert with scattered neighbors could not possibly meet a child’s need for companionship. She stared down at her hands, which she’d clasped in her lap.

Lou sighed. “I wish you’d talk to me. Communicate.”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Say we’re doing the right thing here. That you want to give a mother back her daughter.”

Her head shot up as a bolt of anger darted through her. Her nerve endings tingled with the prickly feeling. “If this mother wants her daughter, why has she not been scouring the countryside for her? Posting pictures and letters? I have seen little evidence that Josie is wanted.”

A gasp came from the front door, followed by pattering feet as the little girl raced away. Mary cringed.

“She needs to stop eavesdropping,” Lou said in a grim voice. He rose very slowly, and Mary could tell he’d fatigued himself.

She wanted to run after Josie but didn’t know what she’d say. The truth was, no one but that dreadful man had looked for the little girl. And Mary wanted her to stay. To be family.

Lou was still looking at her, seriousness shadowing his expression. Why did he want Josie gone so bad? Why did he shy away from the little girl and even seem afraid of her at times?

“And if I do not wish to travel with you?” she asked, watching him carefully. “You will be forced to care for Josie yourself. To see to her needs. To be her sole caretaker.”

“If you don’t pack, then you won’t go. That’s all there is to it.” He stood, turning away so she could no longer see his face.

Empathy battled with frustration. She could go with him now, but that would leave Josie in a bad place. The thought of leaving the little girl hurt too much to dwell on. If she refused to go, what could he do to her? Not much, she surmised.

Mind made up, she stood, straightening her skirt with the movement. He shuffled around, shoulders straight despite the obvious pain striking his features.

She leveled her gaze on him, refusing to let him see how horrible she felt that he was in such distress. “I will not go until you can move without pain.”

“That so?” he said quietly. Challenge filled the blueness of his eyes and an unwelcome ping of excitement zipped through her. These weeks together were revealing a side to her nature she hadn’t suspected existed. A side that seemed to enjoy his challenges, to revel in tension.

The thought was discomfiting, at best. She returned his stare, even though her stomach roiled and her palms slicked.

After a tense minute of silence, she spoke, her voice clear and even, much to her relief. “I must find Josie. She should not have heard our conversation.” It hurt to think her words had caused Josie pain. She, who tried so hard to be quiet and speak wisely, had been undone by her unreasonable, blasé employer.

“I’m coming with.”

She swished forward. “You can hardly walk. Lie down and recover if you wish to return Josie.”

“That girl’s leaving tomorrow.” As Mary passed, Lou reached out and gripped her arm. His touch imprinted her skin with heat.

“Why do you care so much? She’s just a little girl.” Slowly, she removed her arm, amazed she felt no fear at his handling but rather wary at what she did feel: a nervous tension that had nothing to do with fear.

“This place isn’t safe for her.” He gave her his profile.

“So you’ve said, but why? It is unlikely that man would think she’s here.” She studied the stubborn line of his nose, the shape of his square, unyielding jaw. Somewhere a little girl cried for a home she’d lost, and here she stood, interrogating a man who didn’t seem to care.

Annoyed at herself, she let out a huff. “Never mind. It’s obvious I’m not the only one who has trouble communicating.”

Aiming that last comment at the doorway, she stalked out of the sitting room and then hurried down the hallway. James was rocking on the front porch when she burst out the door. An uppity wind brushed past, tangling her skirt and hair in its wake.

“Have you seen Josie?”

“Went thataway.” He pointed in the direction of Trevor’s house. Her home.

“Thank you.” She darted off the porch and ran to the house. Halfway there, she had to stop and gasp for air. This was her fault. Maybe Lou was right. Maybe Josie needed to be with her mother. Perhaps there was a reason the woman hadn’t searched for her daughter. Josie had mentioned illness.

Then again, some mothers, for one reason or another, couldn’t expend the energy to find their children.

She frowned and kept walking, trying to ignore the whispery accusation toward her own mother who’d dropped her off with Trevor’s mom at the age of twelve and never looked back. Not until it was too late and the emotional damage had been done.

Her breath hitched. Taking a moment to inhale and exhale, to remember God and how He’d protected her, was not only good for the lungs but good for the soul.

As she inhaled the cleansing scents of pine, sage and desert brush, her pulse slowed and her vision sharpened on the little house that grew larger as she drew near. A curtain flickered in the window.