Family on the Range
Feeling exhausted yet unwilling to surrender consciousness, he met her gaze. “Trevor and I buried Mendez. You don’t have to worry about him. But our cover is gone....” He paused for breath. He’d been shot before, stabbed, even, but never had he felt this tired.
“Take the medicine.” A note of stubborn finality crept into her voice. “I will speak with you about this later.”
Lou blinked hard against the tide of sleep pulling his lids closed. Mary wavered in front of him, holding out some foul-smelling concoction. She pressed the spoon against his lips, and he grabbed her wrist. Keeping his gaze pinned on hers, he swallowed but didn’t let go of the delicate bones beneath his fingers.
Her eyes widened, and a blush spread across her face at his touch. She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip.
“Thank...you.” He struggled to speak without slurring, to give her a reassuring smile.
“You shouldn’t talk right now.” She lifted her other hand to his brow, smoothing his hair with warm, firm fingers. “I hear the wagon. James will be in at any minute.”
It seemed only a second to Lou until he heard his ranch hand and old friend James in the room. “Got him laudanum. Some Oregon grape root, too.”
Mary rose and disappeared from Lou’s view. He stifled the urge to shout and demand someone help him up from this bothersome bed. They came back, James smirking down at him.
“Had to go and get yourself shot, boss?” He swiped the hat off his head and rubbed the gnarled mass of hair above his ears. “Leave us with all the ranch work while you catch them bootleggers, and now look at ya.”
“Can you watch him for me?”
“I don’t need watching,” Lou told Mary crossly, annoyance temporarily strengthening him. “Get a message to Hayworth that I need to be moved. Maybe to headquarters.” Surely his superior would approve a move under the circumstances.
James bent over him and squinted. “You sayin’ the ranch ain’t safe?”
“Not with me here. These people mean business. If Mendez found us, chances are someone else...will...too.” Lou struggled for breath, hating the weakness of his body. If he’d just gone with his gut instead of standing in the road like a yellow-bellied pansy, he might be flushing out criminals at this very moment.
Now he was trapped here. Forced to see Mary every day, when every second just looking at her made him remember more and more of his past. It didn’t used to be this way. He didn’t like how things had changed.
He aimed to get out of here before things spiraled out of control.
“Let us take care of you.” Mary swished over, bringing medicine with her. “Here, gently now.”
Lou took the medicine, unable to fight the droop of his lids any longer. Mary’s and James’ voices became distant murmurs, then faded away.
He wanted sleep, but instead images from the past flashed through him. His mother and father. His brother with his wife. His niece, Gracie.
And Abby.
Sarah had named Abigail after her mother. He moaned, thrashing his head, willing the images to leave. To stop assaulting him.
His chest burned, but he couldn’t tell if it was the wound or his heart.
More laudanum. That was what he needed.
“Mary,” he whispered.
Nothing.
“Mary.” He tried again, forcing his windpipe to push out more air. A creak followed his plea, but he didn’t smell her.
An odd sound cut through the air. Like a...giggle?
He cocked an eye open. With the medicine swimming through his blood, the room tilted to the side. The doorway wavered, and for a second he thought he saw a thatch of blond hair beneath the doorknob.
“Abby,” he breathed. A hard rush of pain splintered through his chest, cutting off his air and making his eyes burn. Just one more look. After all these years, he wanted to see her one more time.
He waited. A second later the door creaked again, and Abby poked her head through. She shot him a wide smile that showed off teeth with a gap between them the size of Texas. Had he missed her losing teeth, then? It seemed she’d just started cutting them.
Sarah said she ate everything in sight. A smile curled up inside Lou like a soft blanket over his heart. “Abby, come here. Give Daddy a hug.”
Her giggle sprinkled through the air, light and fuzzy, followed by a sweet rush of darkness that took him to a warm and gentle place.
* * *
Lou Riley was seeing dead people.
Unable to shake the morbid thought, he opened his eyes. Bright morning sun poured through the window, highlighting the suspiciously clean lines of his room. Mary had been in again, dusting and cleaning. He groaned, wincing as a nasty throb of pain jolted through his temples.
His chest felt better, though. He tried shifting in the bed. His bandages crinkled with the movement, and a definite soreness invaded his muscles. No fever, no infection, which was a good thing. He’d be glad to discontinue this medicine, glad to get his head turned straight, glad to put an end to the dreams plaguing his sleep.
“There you are, sleepyhead.” Mary floated into the room, her hair a shiny ebony in the morning light. Her features appeared smooth and even, a hint of worry not evident. He must be doing great.
Despite his aches, he grinned at her. “Right where I’ve been the past week.”
“Oh, not that long.” Blushing in response to his flirtatious smile, she set a tray on the bed.
Lou sniffed the air. “Pancakes?” he asked hopefully.
“Yep.”
He took a closer look. “Is that a...rattler?” He glanced at Mary. The burnished rose color of her cheeks deepened.
“I was experimenting with shapes. A little artistic license. I’m not sure how that was placed on the tray.” She frowned and didn’t meet his eyes.
Interesting. He took the plate she held out to him and loaded up. Days of no food had made him famished. His stomach hurt just looking at it all. But that snake... A frown took possession of his mouth.
He settled against his pillow, carefully moving the plate to his lap. “You know, my mom used to make me and my brother animal-shaped pancakes.”
“Really?” Mary fiddled with the sheets on the bed.
“Oh, yeah.” He nodded, never taking his gaze from her face. An uneasy suspicion was taking root. “Moms do it for kids all the time.”
“Not all mothers,” she interjected.
“Creative moms.” He amended the sentence with a flourish of his fork. “Speaking of kids, you might want to lighten my laudanum dosage. I’ve been seeing things.”
Mary moved toward the dresser, her back to him. For a moment, Lou was distracted by the waves of hair that fell like a silk waterfall against her shoulders. He’d forgotten how dark her hair was, thick, and blacker than a sky bereft of stars.
In all their years of knowing each other, he didn’t think he’d ever touched her hair before. In fact, he made certain not to unnecessarily touch her. To give her space and to help her feel safe. His general policy regarding women involved distance. Women were lovely creatures, interesting, a tad difficult, but getting mixed up with a woman took more stamina than Lou was inclined to expend.
Relationships meant pain. He’d learned that early on.
Clenching and unclenching his fingers, he willed the itch to touch Mary to leave.
“What have you been seeing?” she finally asked.
He studied her, noting the stiffness in her shoulders. “Things that shouldn’t be here.”
“Oh?” She pivoted toward him.
The look of obstinacy on her face might’ve made him laugh if he didn’t realize it meant something he wouldn’t like.
“A kid,” he said flatly.
She didn’t respond at first. Then a serene mask settled over her face. Her armor. Seeing it confirmed his suspicion that she was hiding something. A lead weight settled in his belly, feeling almost like disappointment.
“What’s going on?”
Her eyelids flickered. “You haven’t been seeing things. There is a child here, found abandoned by the lake. But she’s not staying long,” she rushed on. “I’ve made efforts to find her mother and hope to hear something soon.”
He groaned. Impatience and a different kind of pain burned through him. He wanted to leap off the bed and make her see reason. His limitations, this inconvenient injury, might prove to be his undoing. “The girl can’t stay. This place is too dangerous for a child. Take her to the sheriff.”
He waited for Mary’s reaction to his words. As usual, she withdrew. He could sense the retreat, see it in the way she backed up, eyes shuttered, face expressionless.
How many times had he seen this look of hers? From the moment she’d been brought to the ranch, bruised in spirit, a desperate eighteen-year-old in need of rescuing, he’d known she was different. Vulnerable. He’d taken her under his protection, watched out for her even though he’d only been twenty-four and dealing with his own sorrows.
Lou ground his teeth, trying not to scowl and failing. She met the look with a guarded demeanor.
“I know you’re angry.” Her voice came out tiny, quiet.
“I’m not angry, but it’s important for that little girl to be home. I can find her family within a day.”
“No.” She moved forward. “You have to stay in bed. Rest and recuperate.”
Suddenly the door to the room whipped open. James stood in the doorway, hair askew and whiskers bunching.
“Josie’s gone.”
Mary whirled, her hand to her chest. “You were supposed to watch her!”
“The little whippersnapper slipped out of my sight,” James grumbled. “She wanted cocoa.”
Mary picked up her skirts before casting Lou a worried look. “I have my own home now. You can’t tell me who’s allowed to stay there.”
He narrowed his gaze. It sounded as if she was referencing her mother, the only person she argued with him about. Otherwise she never spoke up, never acted feisty. His niece, Gracie, must’ve influenced her more than he realized.
It was a nice change from her natural timidity.
Almost smiling, he made to speak but was interrupted by a harsh knocking from below. The sound reverberated up the stairs. Every muscle in his body tensed. No one should be knocking on a secluded ranch’s door.
“Get me my derringer.” He pointed to his dresser, where he hid a backup.
“Where?” Mary moved toward the dresser.
“Behind, on the floor.”
She reached down and picked it up, then brought it to him.
Their fingers brushed when she set the heavy weapon in his hand. She was warm, gentle, and she shouldn’t be exposed to danger. His grip tightened as he drew the weapon from her and slipped it beneath the sheets.
Her eyes widened, never leaving his, irises dark with strain. “I have to find Josie.”
Lou nodded. “James,” he said without looking at his employee, “answer the door. Mary, find the girl and keep her safe.”
They rushed out, and Lou leaned back with a grunt. His head hurt. At least the butt of his gun lay solidly in his palm, cool to the touch, reassuring with its heavy weight and the promise of security.
He looked to the thick door, which remained cracked, and listened for sound from downstairs. If Mary and James needed him, he’d be useless. Did he even have the strength to stand? Shifting in his bed, he gingerly sat forward.
A rush of dizziness pressed in on his head, and the edges of his vision grayed. Groaning, he lay back. How could he have let this happen? He should’ve stayed away from the prohibition problems Oregon had. But he loved challenges, and aiding the local police gave him something to focus on.
Frowning, he cradled his gun and watched the door.
A rustle sounded. Voices drifted up, low tones, calm sounding. Maybe it was just a homesteader passing through. A lot of his neighbors were leaving their small ranches, abandoning them to the wild desert of Harney County.
The rustle caught his attention again. Ears perked, he held his breath.
A ball of pink rolled out from under the bed and into his line of sight.
Chapter Three
Lou jerked back, causing shards of pain to splinter across his chest. Gut tight, he eyed the little girl as she stood and brushed off her fluffy dress. Her hair was a mass of blond curls that framed a round face, complete with a dimple and a decidedly crooked smile.
“Hi, mister. My name’s Josie.” She skipped to him and shoved her hand in his face. “Nice to meet ya.”
He ignored her hand, giving her the darkest glare he could muster.
Her eyes were a deep blue, almost violet. He’d mistaken her for Abby, but now that she stood before him, in the light of morning, he could see the differences. Abby’s eyes had been a bright blue, like his.
A lump clogged his windpipe. Her hair had been dark, like her mother’s, and straight as a horse’s mane. This girl before him wore a smile that showed off rows of teeth, complete with gaps. Abby hadn’t lived long enough to get all hers, let alone lose any.
Because his mouth felt drier than Oregon’s Alvord Desert on a summer noon, he couldn’t speak, could only wordlessly watch this little person, the kind he’d stayed away from for more than a decade.
“Are you okay?” The girl poked his arm, her touch a hot brand that seared through his skin, straight to his heart. “You look scared. I promise I won’t hurt you. I just need a family for a little while.” She flashed that dimple at him again and winked.
Caught off guard, a rusty chuckle broke loose, sounding like an old gate he used to hear creaking in the breeze outside his childhood home.
“Who’s your father?” he asked.
“I don’t have one,” she said simply. She rounded the bed, grabbed the water off the bedside table and carefully brought it to him. The look of concentration on her cherubic face did something funny to Lou’s middle, almost made him want to smile again. When she reached the bed, she brought the water close to his mouth.
“You sound thirsty. Sometimes my dog is thirsty, too. I always bring her water.”
“Thank you.” He took the cup and sipped, mind working overtime. Surely a family was looking for this girl. She looked clean and bright, rosy cheeks, healthy hair, unbothered by whatever had happened to bring her here. “You know you’ll have to go home.”
Josie tilted her head, her never-ending dimple bugging the tar out of him. The girl was too cute for her own good. She’d cause trouble, no doubt about that.
She appeared to be mulling over his words. “I don’t think I have a home anymore,” she finally said.
No father and no home? He found that hard to believe.
Footsteps in the hall turned Josie’s head. There was something familiar in the cadence of the steps.... He couldn’t place what. Then the low rumble of men’s voices reached him. James sounded ornery and gruff. He didn’t recognize the man’s voice, though it held a definite Southern lilt.
Someone from the bureau, then? They could help find Josie’s parents, or at least put her in an orphanage. The thought of an orphanage unexpectedly filled him with regret, a physical punch that stole the breath from his lungs.
He shot Josie a glance.
Her fingers bunched into her dress, and she stared at the door like a deer caught in the sights of a rifle. The flush that had reddened her cheeks earlier had fled, replaced by an unnatural pallor that pulsed dread through Lou’s veins.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Josie turned eyes too terrified to belong on a child his way. “He’s a very bad man,” she whispered.
The voices outside the door rose in argument. At any moment the door could open. Lou positioned his gun under the sheets and jerked his chin toward the edge of the bed. “Get under, and don’t say a word.”
* * *
Mary peeked around the door frame of the downstairs study. After racing through the house, searching for Josie, she’d hidden in the study while James spoke with the man at the door. The visitor sounded urbane and sophisticated. She’d caught sight of a pressed suit and slicked-back hair as the men went up the stairs.
Was it someone from the bureau? Why else would James bring this stranger into the house? Heart pounding, she moved around the corner and into the empty hall. The rising sun splashed light against the dark floor she’d waxed yesterday morning.
She loved this home, had lived here for all of her adult life, but it was time to grow up. With time, Trevor’s house would feel like hers. She picked her way to the stairs, listening to the low sound of masculine voices.
As she moved upward, the voices escalated. A sense of urgency propelled her to the noise. She reached the top and spotted an unhappy-looking James with the stranger, standing outside Lou’s door.
“I was just fixing to show this man out of the house,” James said, his tone a warning.
Oh, no. The man must have forced his way upstairs and she was sure James didn’t carry his weapon in the house. But he did have one stashed in the guest room....
Wetting her lips, she smoothed her dress and started their way. “Gentlemen.” She forced her lips into a smile, shivering inside when the man swiveled toward her. His eyes were the same purple color as Josie’s, but where the child’s were alive and bright, his looked dark and forbidding.
Evil.
An inner warning she’d developed as a young girl encased her body, chilling her to the core. This man intended wickedness, of that she was sure. Smile pasted to her face, she drew near Lou’s door, sliding her body in front of the knob. She needed to distract him.
James gave her an imperceptible nod of approval before turning to the stranger. “This is Mary, our housekeeper. She the one you’ve been looking for?”
The man’s gaze traveled the length of her, a leer in his eyes if not on his lips. Dread pooled in her belly, and she had to force herself to meet his stare, to be calm in the face of his unrelenting perusal. This man fed on control. It made him feel powerful.
She’d met enough like him in her mother’s former life to read the sins on his face.
Finally, the man looked at James. “No, the woman I’m looking for is much older. I was told you housed a Paiute, but evidently this lady isn’t the one.” The man gave her a slow, ugly wink. “I could offer you a better job. Higher pay.” His gaze flicked over her work dress. “Nicer clothes.”
“Perhaps you know the woman’s name for whom you search?” she managed to say, though her tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth.
“I only know she took something of mine, and I want it back.”
Mary gulped, despising the fear that froze her veins and rooted her to the floor like an ice statue.
James broke the tension by clapping a hand on the stranger’s shoulder. “Well, now you’ve met Mary and she’s not the one, so why don’t I get you some vittles and drink before you get on your way.”
“Will you reconsider my offer?” The stranger directed his question to her.
She couldn’t speak, could only shake her head.
“Very well. A pleasure meeting you, ma’am.” He inclined his head, but she had no intention of reciprocating. None at all.
A hard look passed over his face when he realized her snub. James strode down the short hall to the stairs, beckoning the man to follow, but he paused in front of her, lips a thin line against his pale skin. “You’re a scared little lady.” The corner of his mouth tilted. “I like that.”
Her heart stilled in its beating, paralyzed, until he pivoted and sauntered after James. Then it resumed a frantic pounding that flushed blood through her body so fast her knees grew wobbly and she thought she might vomit.
Get control. She had to be stronger somehow. Take charge of the situation. There was no way on earth she’d let Josie return to that monster. If she had to keep the girl in hiding her entire life, then that was what she’d do.
Inhaling several deep breaths, she sagged against the door, letting her body calm and forcing her face to relax. If she went into Lou’s bedroom right now, he’d know with one look that something was wrong.
The last thing he needed was action, and knowing him, it would be his first instinct. If he discovered this man was looking for Josie, what would he do? The question filled her with uneasiness.
Somehow she had to work harder to locate Josie’s mother. See if she was a more fit parent than the malevolent stranger she’d just met.
Squaring her shoulders, she straightened and let herself into Lou’s room. His window faced south, exposing a bright sky scattered with fluffy clouds that spoke nothing of evil. Only of good. Of a loving God who’d rescued her from men like the stranger who’d just visited.
A cleansing calm spread through her. She walked to Lou, who lay on the bed watching her, an alert expression on his handsome face.
“Who was the visitor?” His eyes, those shining orbs that had caught her attention from the moment they’d met, glinted at her.
“A stranger.” She gingerly sat on the side of his bed, careful not to bump his body. “How is your wound?”
“Burning, but not as much as my gut. Something’s wrong, and I want to know what.”
“The man was looking for a Paiute woman. He said she took something of his.”
“Josie,” Lou stated, giving her a hard look, not his usual smile.
“The man didn’t specify but I’m assuming so.” Stomach quivering, she clasped her hands. “My mother—”
“The woman who abandoned you?” he interrupted, his face darkening.
“She found Josie near Harney Lake, half-dead. Since I have my own home, she asked me to hide her until things were safe.”
“Safe from what?” Lou tried to push up from the bed but stopped, a grimace crossing his even features. “Never mind. You have no business keeping her and you know it. That’s called kidnapping.”
“No,” she protested shakily. “I’ve telegraphed the Portland police, and they’re trying to locate her mother. My mother claimed to be familiar with the father and said he’s put up a reward for Josie, but when I rode into town the other day, I saw no such thing.”
Lou settled back, the whiskers on his chin drawing Mary’s attention. He needed a shave badly. Her gaze traversed the face of a man who’d protected her for so long. Now that time had passed. Now was the moment for her to stand proud and strong. To rise as a woman in charge of her own life.
She could not allow him to take Josie away. This matter belonged to her.
But as she studied him, she realized that despite his good looks and charming smile, he was still exhausted and in need of her care. The epiphany brought a tender warmth to her chest. “I will make you a special meal tonight.”
“You will, huh?” Familiar crinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes. “Josie might have something to say about it.”
Mary’s warm feeling dissipated. “She will not be an issue. You will not have to see her.”
“Too late.” He gestured to the floor. “Come on out, Josie.”
Scrambling ensued before the towheaded girl popped out near Mary’s feet. Stifling a surprised squeal, she frowned at the girl. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Josie squirmed, eyes cast down. “I just wanted to meet Mister Lou.”
“We met, all right.”
“She’s staying with me,” Mary put in, worry welling up at Lou’s tone. He sounded distant, more removed than she thought possible. “You have no part of this decision I’ve made.”
Her statement seemed to incense him. He grew agitated, rustling the sheets as he attempted to sit. The stubborn man was sure to hurt himself, but she made no move to help him. “The sooner you lie still, the sooner you’ll heal.”
“Do I really have to leave?” Josie asked in a plaintive, little-girl voice.
“Yes.”
“No.” Mary glared at Lou. She opened her arms, and Josie ran to her, snuggling in, her hair smelling like the lavender Mary had rinsed it with this morning. Smiling, she tightened the hug.
“We’re going to find her a safe place, but first, you need to realize that she knows more than she’s telling.” Lou’s tone caught Mary’s attention. She looked up into his serious face. “Ask her, Mary. Ask her who the man at the door was.”