Bittner, Rosanne (41 page)

She
sat looking into the cradle at her feet, leaned forward to rest her elbows on
her knees and study her new son. He was eight days old now, and she still had
not named him. She wanted John to do that. He was a sweet child, had cried very
little since that first squalling after he was bora, and he slept almost
constantly between feedings. What kept her most tired was the feedings
themselves, for the baby had quite an appetite, demanding more milk every three
hours, and she could tell he had already put on a little weight.

Did
she love him? Of course. Every mother loved her baby, didn't she? She closed
her eyes and leaned back, feeling horrible at having to admit she was not sure.
If only she could stop thinking about the child's father. When he fed at her
breast she sometimes had flashes of Chino, grabbing and biting at her there.
Once she even tore the baby away from his feeding and made him cry. Her heart
nearly broke now at the memory, and since then she had forced herself to see
only the baby, the innocent baby. The child was perfect, handsome, healthy,
alert. Already she could make him grin when she touched his chin and talked to
him. His dark eyes were bright and watchful, his little hands strong.

John
was going to love this son of his... probably more than she did. That wasn't
right. The boy wasn't even of his own blood. How strange that a man who could
be as mean and violent and seemingly uncaring as John Hawkins could love this
little baby more than his own mother loved him. Her guilt weighed on her, and
she let the tears come again.

"I
won't," she sobbed. "I won't allow myself to feel this way. This is
my son.
My
son. He's so innocent." She leaned down and took him out
of the cradle, wrapping him tight and holding him close to her breast. She
rocked him, kissed the fine, black hairs on his still-soft head. "I will
learn to love you, my sweet baby," she whispered.

If
only John were here. He would help her through this. Just seeing him with the
baby would help. What was she going to do if he never came back? She would have
to raise this child alone... Chino's child. "Stop it," she told
herself. "You have to forget him." She kissed the baby again, and
just as she was about to put the still-sleeping child back into his cradle,
someone knocked at the door.

She
quickly wiped at her tears and blinked rapidly to try to erase the signs of
crying. New mothers were not supposed to cry. They were supposed to be
deliriously happy. She kept the baby in the crook of her arm and went to the
door, surprised when she opened it to see Harriet Caldwell standing before her.
The woman's buggy was at the hitching post outside, a hired hand standing
beside it. "Harriet! I'm—"

"Surprised?"
The woman looked her over. "You look very nice, Tess, not at all the
weary, bedraggled new mother."

Tess
smiled. "I assure you I
am
weary and bedraggled." She stepped
aside. "Please come in. It's turned so cold again, and I don't want the
baby to get a chill." As Harriet stepped inside, Tess noticed she was
holding a wrapped package. She closed the door. "The weather is crazy. Hot
one day, cold the next."

"Yes,
it can be quite unpredictable this time of year."

Tess
watched the woman curiously. What on earth was she doing here? "This is
actually the first day I have truly done my hair up right and put on a decent
dress instead of a gown and robe. I was happy to discover this dress fit me. I
was worried I would never get my old waistline back."

"Well,
dear, we all suffer a slight change in our girlish shapes after having babies.
It's a fact of life." Harriet, wearing a dark brown taffeta dress, dark
brown gloves, a fur cape, and a matching fur hat, turned to look at her,
holding the regal pose she always displayed. The billowing, cascading ruffles
at the back of her dress made swishing sounds as she walked over to the sofa.
"May I sit down?"

"Of
course!" Tess caught something different about her, a small hint of...
what was it? Apology? Worry? Apprehension? She could not quite name it, but
something was different.

"Come
and sit beside me and let me study that new baby. I am told he is just the most
perfect baby ever born, according to Louise."

The
comment brought a wave of pride to Tess's heart that she had not yet felt for
the baby. She walked over and sat down beside Harriet who reached over and
pulled the blanket farther away from him, studying the round face, the perfect
little nose, the pretty mouth. His dark skin showed not a blemish.

"I
have to oil his hair a little," Tess explained, "to keep it under
control. It seems to always want to stick up in every direction."

Harriet
smiled. "Well, obviously it will someday be just like his father's. And he
will probably be as big and strong. With John Hawkins for a father, he will
probably be a pistol to raise."

"He
probably will be," Tess replied,
because his father was the
notorious—No. John
was his father. She must always remember that. "I
am so glad you decided to come and see him," she said. "If you would
like to hold him, I'll go and make us some tea, or I can put him back in his
cradle."

"Why
don't you put him in his cradle, dear? I have a gift for the baby, and we need
to talk. If you think he will sleep for a while longer, we can go into the
kitchen together and talk there."

"Certainly."
Puzzled, Tess rose and laid the baby back in his cradle. Harriet followed her
into the kitchen, and Tess set two cups on the table. She filled a tea strainer
with tea leaves taken from a can on the table, then set it in one of the cups.
"I already have hot water." She poured some into the cup. "I
will let you brew yours first."

"Well,
while I am doing that, you can open this gift." Harriet laid the package
beside the other cup, and Tess sat down, pulling away the string and the brown
paper in which it was wrapped. Inside was a knitted baby blanket in lovely
colors of blue and yellow, pink and white.

"This
is lovely! Did you make this yourself?"

"I
most certainly did. Made it in four days."

"My
goodness! I have to admit, in spite of my talent for sewing, I have never been
good at knitting. Thank you so much, Harriet. This is so... unexpected. I know
you have never approved of my marriage or even believed—"

"That
doesn't matter right now," Harriet interrupted. She took the tea strainer
from her cup and laid it in Tess's. "Those leaves are probably still
strong enough to brew your own cup."

Tess
studied her eyes. There was that look again, an almost pleading look. She rose
and poured hot water into her cup, then set the kettle back on the stove.
"Is it too warm in here for you? The house is so small, when I keep the
cookstove hot, it warms the whole place."

"I
am fine." Harriet removed her cape and hung it over the back of the chair.
"I will tell you point-blank, Tess, that I did want to see the baby and
give you the gift. But there is a more important reason for my visit."

Tess
slowly dunked the tea strainer up and down as she studied the woman's usually
cold gray eyes. She was shocked to see Harriet looked almost ready to cry.
"What is that, Harriet?"

Harriet
took a deep breath as though for courage. "Louise told me something that
disturbs me greatly. I have said nothing yet to my husband. I wanted to talk to
you first."

Tess
frowned, feeling a hint of alarm. Said nothing to her husband? "What do
you mean?" She moved a bowl of sugar closer. "Here is some sweetener
for your tea."

Harriet
spooned a little of the sugar into the cup and took a sip of the tea.
"Louise told me in strict confidence. She promised me that Mary would also
keep what she heard to herself. They both decided I should be told, that
perhaps I should come and talk to you about it."

Tess
spooned some sugar into her own cup. "About what?"

"About...
something you said when you were delirious with pain from the birth."

My
God! Tess thought. What on earth had she said? Had she put John in more danger?
She slowly stirred the sugar. "Go on."

"Well,
you said... you said what if Casey Dunlap kills your husband? What would you do
alone with a baby?"

Tess
frowned, struggling to pretend surprise and innocence. "I... can't imagine
why I would say that."

"Can't
you?"

Tess
was surprised that Harriet looked ready to cry.

"You
also said that Casey Dunlap was the one who shot John Hawkins. Not only that,
you said John had gone after Dunlap, but that he didn't have to do that. You
said you knew the truth yourself, that you had seen... something, heard
something." The woman blinked back tears and looked down at her teacup.
"You said my husband was a cattle thief, and that your husband was out to
prove it... that you knew the truth. You apparently thought you were talking to
that tramp, Jenny Simms. You called her by name, told her to go get the Army
and have them go help John."

Tess
closed her eyes and sipped some of her own tea for courage. "I... had no
idea I'd said those things."

Harriet
sniffed. "Thank God I know I can trust Louise and Mary. I understand that
you probably would have said nothing if not for the pain and your missing your
husband and needing him. That is not the point. The point is pain often forces
the truth out of people. I want the truth, Tess Hawkins. What made you say
those things? What is it you think you know?"

Tess
struggled to think straight. If she told the truth, the woman would go straight
to her husband, which could set off a chain of events that could foil whatever
John was doing to capture Dunlap and Caldwell. Still, even if she said nothing,
Harriet realized something was wrong and would probably go to her husband
anyway. She met Harriet's eyes, saw the pain there. "First tell me where
your husband is right now."

Harriet
frowned. "He is out on spring roundup. Casey Dunlap is his best man, but
he is gone right now, out buying more cattle, so I am told."

Out
stealing more cattle, more likely, Tess thought. "I'm sorry, Harriet. I
can't tell you everything. It could endanger my own husband. When he gets back
from wherever he's gone, the truth will be known. Please be assured that
anything I might know has never been told to another soul except John and his
partner. I had no idea I had said anything in my pain. I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"
Harriet rose. "I am not here to protect Jim. I am here to protect myself.
I need to know the truth, Tess. I have... suspected something myself for a long
time." She faced Tess. "You might as well know my husband and I have
disagreed on some of his tactics for a while. I am well aware that he has
bullied neighbors into selling out to him, that he tried to do so with your own
father." She held her chin proudly, standing stiff and erect. "When I
married Jim Caldwell, it was because it was expected of me. We came from
neighboring plantations, wealth marrying wealth. Jim has never been an easy man
to live with, but he could provide for me in the way to which I was accustomed.
You have to understand he is himself a proud man, Tess. He lost everything in
the war, as did my own family. It devastated him. When Colonel Bass offered this
free land here in Texas, he was overjoyed to be able to start over. He learned
the cattle business from the bottom up. The only thing he'd known before that
was cotton, and, of course, we still grow some of that. But it was cattle that
boomed after the war, and my husband took advantage of that. His one driving
goal was to rebuild the empire he'd lost in Virginia, be just as wealthy again.
What worried me was it became an obsession for him."

She
turned away, folding her arms. "I was raised to appreciate and enjoy the
finest things in life, Tess. I will admit that. I wanted it all back just as
much as my husband did. The only difference is, I would never deceive someone,
deliberately hurt someone or steal from someone to get what I wanted. That is
the God's truth. If my husband has been doing those things, I am not so sure I
can remain living with him. He dreams of talking our sons into coming out here
and becoming cattle barons themselves, but they choose to stay in Virginia
where they have lives and families of their own. They never got along well with
their rather bullying father." She sighed deeply, her voice shaky with
emotion. "I miss my sons. I want to know if you think my husband is going
to be found guilty of cattle rustling. That is a hanging offense, as you know.
I need to know what you know. If my husband is a cattle thief... possibly a
murderer... I intend to leave El Paso, go back home to Virginia. I still have
family there, and they have rebuilt a reasonably decent life. My parents are
dead, but I have two sisters and a brother there... and my sons. I have wanted
to go back for a long time, but Jim never could find the time. He was too busy
rebuilding his little empire here." She faced Tess again. "Please
tell me what you know, Tess."

The
woman's story astounded Tess. "I... had no idea about your personal
problems, Harriet."

"And
it is not easy for me to share them with anyone, least of all you, after the
way I have treated you. I want you to understand that part of the reason I seem
so... so aloof and demanding... is my own way of covering up the hurt."
The woman blinked back tears. "I was raised to be proud and honest and
dignified, taught that certain things were proper and other things were not.
One of the "proper" things was that a woman was a good and faithful
wife to her husband... whether she loved him or not." She turned away.
"I can tolerate a lot of things, Tess, but I cannot tolerate a husband who
would murder and steal. Is that what my husband has done?"