A Dream to Call My Own (23 page)

Lacy bit her lower lip and tried to form a plan.
If I can get to
Dave and he’s alive, then everything will be all right.
She checked her rifle and felt a small reassurance that the odds were in her favor. She wouldn’t have a problem shooting Wyman if he was threatening Dave’s life. At least she didn’t think she would. She frowned at her own nagging doubts. This was a situation that called for her utmost confidence. She couldn’t fail in this. She just couldn’t.

Nick studied the way ahead. “I haven’t seen any sign of a marker. We’ve been up and down this road three times now, and there isn’t anything.”

“I know. I’m thinking maybe Cubby didn’t have time or maybe somebody caught him snooping around,” Hank answered.

“I wonder if he had the wrong road. I see plenty of tracks, but there’s also been quite a few riders and wagons passing through.”

“Maybe we haven’t gone far enough. Cubby never said where along the trail they took Dave, or where he thought the hideout might be located. I say we keep going west and see if we happen upon something.”

Nick surveyed the terrain. “We can’t go home without Lacy and Dave.”

“I know.” The statement was brief, but the tone told Nick everything he needed to know. He and Hank would be at this for as long as it took. There was no sense considering any other possibility.

“Come on, then. We best get to it.” Nick urged the horse forward.

They’d only gone a few yards, however, when Nick held up his hand and halted the mount. He strained to listen, certain that he’d heard something up around the bend. Hank appeared to have heard it, too.

Nick motioned to the trees and turned his horse to head into the cover of the forest. He and Hank were barely out of sight when a man rode past, headed back toward Gallatin Crossing. It was Jefferson Mulholland.

Neither Hank nor Nick spoke, but the look they exchanged left little doubt that each was encouraged by this new development. If Mulholland was in the area, then they were, no doubt, on the right path. Rafe’s friend would have no other reason to be there.

Waiting until the man was well down the road, Nick finally turned to Hank. “He has to be involved.”

“I was thinking the same thing. I imagine he’s coming from the hideout.”

Nick nodded. “We’ll trace his tracks. They’ll be the freshest, and Mulholland probably didn’t bother trying to cover them up.”

“That’s a—”

“Quiet!” Nick whispered harshly at the sound of other riders approaching. There were several men talking amongst themselves. He couldn’t make out what was being said, but he certainly didn’t want them to realize he and Hank were hiding nearby.

The riders moved quickly after Mulholland, as if trying to catch up with him. Nick couldn’t help but wonder if they were the men who’d taken Dave to begin with. Once they were gone, Nick sat in silence for several minutes.

“What do you think?” Hank asked, taking out a handkerchief to wipe sweat from his neck.

“I don’t know,” Nick answered honestly. There were at least a dozen different scenarios running through his head, and he didn’t like any of them. “I wish we had a few more men on our side. I can’t help but think those men are a part of Rafe and Mulholland’s boys.”

Hank replaced the cloth in his pocket. “I figure the same thing.”

“One good thing: With that many men traveling, we ought to be able to catch some sign of the trail they’ve come down. Let’s get at it while there’s still light enough to see what we’re doing.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Lacy knew she had to get closer to the cabin. She needed to see for herself that Dave was still alive. If she could just know that much, it would give her the strength to figure out what to do next.

She tied her horse to a sapling and crept around the back of him. The ground sloped just a bit toward the cabin; Lacy had chosen this vantage point in order to better survey what was going on. To the left of the corral was what she had now determined was an outhouse and a small loafing shed, and then the cabin. All of the buildings looked slapped together, as if the owner had needed them in a hurry.

Slipping through the trees, Lacy tried to position herself so that she could see the back of the cabin. She needed to know if there was a second entryway into the house. No other door existed, but there was a solitary window. Well, at least there was a hole where a window might have gone. It looked like someone had tacked up a sheet or piece of oilcloth to block out the elements. That could prove easy enough to get through.

A plan began to form. If she could just get into the house unnoticed, she could get the drop on Wyman and force him to turn Dave loose. Once that happened, they could tie Wyman up and make their way home. The plan required just a couple of very important things: getting into the house without Wyman catching her, and Dave being alive.

Lacy made her way back to the horse for her knife, knowing that she’d need it in order to cut the material blocking the window. She was nearly to her mount when someone clamped a hand over her mouth and knocked her to the ground. Determination to live welled in Lacy. She fought for all she was worth.

I’m Dave’s only hope. I can’t fail him!

“Stop fighting. It’s just me, Cubby.”

Lacy finally hesitated a moment, then went still. Cubby rolled off of her and turned to face the angry young woman. He tried to help her up, but she slapped his hand away.

“Why did you do that? You didn’t have to throw me to the ground.” She barely whispered the words, but Cubby could clearly hear the anger in her tone.

“I didn’t know how to get your attention without risking the noise. I’ve come to help you.”

She looked at him in disbelief. “By accosting me?”

“I told you why I did what I did. Now tell me what’s going on. What do you know?”

“Wyman is down there. I don’t know if anyone else is. Mulholland and about four other men were here earlier. Mulholland and Wyman seemed to argue about something; then Wyman backed down, and Mulholland left. The others followed after Wyman talked to them.”

“I saw that much. I was over there across the way for a while. I’ve been looking for you, but you hide real good.” He smiled.

Lacy dusted off her clothes. “Such skills have saved me more than once.” She pulled a small twig from her hair. “What do you suppose Wyman’s up to with Mulholland? At first he acted like he was Mulholland’s best friend. Then he seemed pretty upset when he was talking to his boys.”

Cubby considered this for a moment. “I heard them talking over by the corral, but I couldn’t get close enough to really understand what was being said. Wyman’s never liked Mulholland. He was jealous of the way the man just showed up one day and kind of took his place. Fact is, I think he plans to eliminate Mulholland first chance he gets. Wyman’s probably just makin’ him think they’re friends for now so Mulholland doesn’t get suspicious. Maybe he’s told his boys to go kill him.”

Lacy nodded. “I thought of that, too.”

“Have you . . . did you see Dave?”

“No, but his horse is in the corral.” Lacy pointed. “It’s just over there.”

Cubby got up and walked to where he had a better view. Dave’s gelding was clearly visible. “All right, so we know he’s here.”

Lacy had followed him. “But we don’t know if he’s dead or alive.”

“Well, we need to rectify that matter. Wyman won’t put it off for long. I know they wanted to get information out of Dave, so maybe he’s still alive. I’ll go down and pretend my pa has sent me.”

“No!” Lacy put her hand on Cubby’s arm. “You might get hurt. Why don’t you go back and get some men to help us. Hank and Nick will come to Dave’s aid if you let them know what’s going on.”

Cubby jerked away from her. “I told Hank all about it.” He frowned and muttered to himself, “I’m not a child.”

Why couldn’t she see him for who he truly was? “I can do a man’s work, Lacy Gallatin, even if you don’t believe it.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, Cubby. It’s just that Wyman is an evil man, and he won’t care if he kills you.”

“He won’t have a chance, if I take care of him first.”

Shaking her head, Lacy pulled him back deeper into the woods. “Cubby, I don’t want anything to happen to you. I may not be able to love you the way you’d like, but I do care about you. You’re like a little brother to me, and I feel responsible for your being here, caught up in this mess. Wyman’s going to know you shouldn’t know about this place. He’ll suspect something right away.”

There was an element of truth in what she said. Wyman was always suspicious, but Cubby couldn’t let Lacy discredit his abilities. “I can just tell him that my pa decided I needed to know—that I needed to tell him to come back to the saloon. If I tell him something important has happened, and that he’s not to hurt Dave, then maybe he’ll leave.”

“It’s too much of a risk. Just go get Hank and Nick, and then we can—”

“Maybe I should just go home,” Cubby interrupted. “You think me so incapable.”

“That’s not what I said, but you . . . well . . .” Lacy seemed to be considering her words carefully.

“I’ve had enough. You can take care of this matter yourself.”

Cubby felt guilty for leaving Lacy, but he couldn’t bear that she saw him as a child. He was a man—same as Dave Shepard. He’d come to accept that she didn’t love him, but the fact that she couldn’t see him for who he was left Cubby frustrated.

Fine. Let her figure it all out for herself.

“And that’s why I need you to forgive me,” Adam told Gwen and Beth.

Beth looked at her sister as if to confirm she’d really heard right. Gwen shook her head and centered her gaze on Adam. “Why do you believe you killed our father?”

“I already told you. I was there, firin’ off my gun. I suppose I can’t be sure, but I can’t help but think God’s kept it on my conscience all this time because it was my bullet that killed him.”

“Maybe he’s just babbling because of the head wound,” Beth said. Then reaching for his forehead, she added, “Or maybe he has a fever.”

“I’m not babbling. I told your sister Lacy the same thing. I was trying to find the deputy to tell him first, and that’s why Lacy found me at his house.”

Across the hall, Beth could hear one of the stage travelers retiring to his room. There had only been three passengers and the driver, which had been a relief to both sisters. With Adam’s wound and the situation with Lacy and Dave, Beth had difficulty focusing on anything else. She and Gwen were so preoccupied with their sister’s safety that they’d barely been able to act as proper hostesses. Thankfully, the babies had fallen asleep early.

Gwen took hold of the young man’s hand. “Of course we can forgive you for any guilt, real or imagined.”

Beth nodded. “Yes. You certainly didn’t mean to kill Pa, and it appears you’ve definitely learned your lesson.”

“I have. I’m ready to face my punishment, too. If I have to hang for my offense, I will. I’m willing to die for what I’ve done.”

“Well, I’m not willing for you to die,” Beth said.

“Me neither. You made a mistake, and if you are correct and your bullet took our father’s life, then it was a costly mistake, indeed. But, Adam, you never set out to kill him. It wasn’t murder. It was an accident.”

Adam seemed to relax a bit. “Miss Lacy told me the same thing.”

Gwen and Beth exchanged a look. “If Lacy told you that, then you are truly forgiven. She’s been the one who has demanded justice for our father’s death. If Lacy is willing to let it go, then you must realize that the matter is closed.”

The young man sighed a long breath of relief. “I can die in peace, then.”

“Not here, you can’t,” Beth said. “We don’t have time for a funeral. If I catch you trying to die on us . . . well, just be forewarned, I won’t go easy on you.”

Adam grinned. “You know, the local hands are always talking about how feisty you Gallatin gals can be. I guess they’re right.”

Gwen laughed out loud and got to her feet. “Adam, you don’t know the half of it.”

Later, as the sisters worked to clean up after the evening meal, Beth couldn’t help but reflect on Adam’s confession and Rafe’s suicide. “You know, it took a great deal of courage for Adam to take responsibility for Pa’s death.”

Gwen finished putting away a stack of plates. “I know. I was thinking the same thing.”

“It’s hard to be honest and face up to the wrong you’ve done. I mean, look at Rafe. He obviously couldn’t deal with his sins, or he wouldn’t have killed himself. It’s like Judas in the Bible.”

“Or he was just purely selfish,” Gwen countered. “I keep thinking of poor Cubby. Rafe obviously never gave his feelings a single thought.”

“What do you suppose he’ll do now?” Beth wondered aloud.

“Hank has been talking about taking him with us when we move. I guess that will be a real possibility now. The biggest obstacle we saw was Rafe, and now . . .” She left the rest unsaid.

“What will happen to the girls? We’ve long wanted to see an end to the prostitution at Rafe’s place, but what will they do now? They have no money of their own and no place to go. Most don’t even have families.”

“I hadn’t really thought of that,” Gwen said, “but you’re right. Seems there ought to be something we could do.”

“I was thinking maybe we could gather them over here and discuss the situation. We could give them each a few dollars and let them decide what they want to do. Maybe we could find some way to take them north with us, as well.”

“We can’t save everyone,” Gwen countered. She went to the stove and checked the coffeepot.

“I know we can’t save everyone, but we also can’t turn our backs on them. With Rafe dead, I don’t know what the legalities are. I would guess Cubby would own his property, though. We could talk to Cubby about selling out. Maybe Mr. Mulholland would buy the place.”

In an odd coincidence the man appeared at the kitchen entryway, as if they had summoned him by their discussion. “I hope I’m not interrupting. One of the stage passengers was returning from a walk, and I thought to simply follow him in. I heard you two talking.”

Beth startled and nearly dropped the coffee cup she’d been drying. “What . . . what do you want?”

He smiled in his charming manner. “I came to inquire as to what was going on at the saloon. There seems to be no one around. There are no lights, and the place is locked up tighter than a bank on Sunday.”

Beth looked to Gwen, realizing that Mulholland didn’t know about Rafe. Gwen took charge and came to where he stood.

“Would you like to sit down and have a cup of coffee? I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Mulholland frowned and his brown eyes narrowed. “No, thank you. Tell me what’s going on.”

His tone was brusque, and Gwen licked her lips as if stalling for time. “There’s been . . . well . . . I’m afraid something has happened. Rafe . . . he. . . .” She looked at Beth, unable to finish her sentence.

“He’s dead,” Beth said, stepping forward.

Mulholland’s expression changed from one of suspicion to shock. He looked at Beth as if she’d suddenly pulled a gun on him. She stepped forward and apologized. “I’m so sorry to be so blunt.”

“What happened?”

“He shot himself. He didn’t leave a note or say anything to anyone that would suggest he meant to die,” Gwen replied.

“Then how do you know he did the deed? Maybe one of his customers—or one of the women—lost their temper with him.” Mulholland shook his head. “This is impossible.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Mulholland. I know he was your friend,” Gwen continued. “Apparently, there were things that Rafe couldn’t bear. The doctor tended him. He said it was clearly . . . suicide.” She practically whispered the word.

Beth shuddered. “He’s never been a very happy person.” She knew the comment sounded lame but felt it somehow justified the situation.

“Where’s Cubby?” Mulholland asked.

“Uh, he was on an errand for Hank,” Gwen replied. “He’s not come back yet. He doesn’t know.”

Jefferson Mulholland considered this news for a moment. He brushed back his reddish brown hair with one hand while reaching into his vest pocket with the other. He pulled out his pocket watch. “It’s nearly nine. It’ll be dark soon. My things are in one of the back rooms at the saloon.”

“Marie is there cleaning up. She can let you in. The doctor suggested she keep everyone out until the sheriff arrives to look things over. But since you’ve been staying there, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“The sheriff is coming?” Mulholland asked, sounding more disturbed than when Beth had shared the news of Rafe’s death. “But why?”

“Because a man is dead,” Gwen answered quickly. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Mr. Mulholland, we need to finish our work here. The stage will pull out quite early, and we need to get our sleep.”

He nodded and gave a slight bow. “Thank you for your help, ladies. If one must hear bad news, it is always easier to receive it from such kind souls.”

Beth waited until he was gone before turning to Gwen. “What if he’s caught up in all of this? What if he has something to do with Dave being taken and the plan to kill him? What if he somehow threatened Rafe and left him without hope to go on? Maybe he’s responsible for Rafe’s killing himself.”

“We can’t let our imaginations run wild. Look, I think I’m going to go talk to Ralph. He’s been driving stages long enough that we know him well. I feel nervous enough about Hank and the others being out there, but if Mulholland gets it in his mind to come back, I want a man to deal with him.” Gwen headed for the stairs.

Beth thought back to when she’d been caught up in one romantic adventure novel after another. In those books, men were always facing death and their ladies fair were always in some kind of jeopardy. Funny, she’d always thought she’d welcome such things into the boredom of her life at Gallatin House.
Goodness, but I was quite a silly goose.