Come Spring (44 page)

Annika swept Buttons up into her arms and held her, burying her nose in the little girl’s thick, bouncing curls, and breathed in the fresh smell of soap and talcum. Hugging her tight, Annika used the child to comfort her own aching heart. She was further comforted when Buttons hugged her back. Richard stood immobile, staring at the two of them.

“I don’t understand how you can keep that child with you. Surely she can only remind you of that man,” he complained.

“Apparently there is a lot you don’t understand.” “Rose says come now.” Baby was tugging on the strand of pearls around Annika’s neck.

“Rose says come? Is she in the kitchen?” Annika asked. “Upstays.”

Annika shifted Buttons from one hip to the other and held her away so she could understand what the child was trying to tell her.

“Rose needs me upstairs?”

Buttons put the strand of pearls in her mouth, sucked on them a minute, then let them drop onto the bodice of Annika’s gown. She nodded yes over and over. “Go get a baby.”

“Oh, my God!” Annika thrust Buttons at Richard with a curt “Please watch her,” gathered her skirts, and ran up the stairs. At the top of the landing she raced down the hall, nearly tripped over a wrinkle in the carpet runner, skidded to a stop, and then as calmly as she could she opened the door to the master bedroom.

Rose was slowly pacing the room, her hands at the small of her back, her forehead shining with perspiration.

“Oh, God, Rose. Is it the baby?”

“Sí.”
Rose stopped, panting for breath, and then kept walking.

“What can I do?”

“Nothing. I think I do it all.”

“This is no time to joke, Rose.”

“Kase is back?” The usually headstrong woman looked panicked without her husband at her side.

Annika shook her head, trying to stem her own mounting nerves. “He’s still in town.” She stared at Rose’s abdomen.

“Oh, God.”

Rose paused long enough to grab both of Annika’s hands.
“Basta,
Annika. Stop. Oh, God, oh, God. Maybe Richard will find Kase. And the doctor. Maybe there is time. I think though, it is better Kase is not here.” Her dark eyes swam with tears. “It is too hard for him when the babies die.”

Shaking, Annika held Rose’s hands tightly and tried to calm her. “Don’t say that, Rose.” Then, pulling herself together, she tried to smile. Someone had to take charge. “We’ll do just fine. Now”—with the efficiency of a seasoned nurse, she led Rose to the bed, folded back the coverlet and sheets, and plumped the pillows—“you just relax. I’ll take care of everything. We can do this, Rose, just you and I, if need be.”

Rose sat on the edge of the bed but refused to lie down. “I’m going to send Richard to town after Kase and the doctor, then I’m going to come back and I won’t leave you again.”

“Buttons?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get Richard to send in one of the hands before he leaves. They all love to play with her.” She frowned, hoping there was a plate of cookies she could use as a bribe to entice one of her brother’s cowhands into babysitting.

She raced back downstairs, wishing she hadn’t donned the heavy gown. It was a stupid thing to wear on a ranch, but she had felt guilty wasting all of the beautiful clothes she’d brought along with her. Back in the parlor, she found Richard seated on a chair, leaning forward with elbows on his knees, as he watched Buttons turn a somersault. Her three ruffled petticoats and full skirt completely covered her head and shoulders. Her plump round bottom swathed in frilly pantalettes stuck up in the air.

“You have to go to town to get Kase,” she ordered smoothly. “There should be a horse already saddled—he’s had one ready every day for three weeks. Send Tom in before you leave. When you get Kase, bring the doctor and come straight back. Rose is having the baby.”

She expected him to refuse after the way she had just treated him, but ever the gentleman, his refined background wouldn’t let him do anything so dishonorable. “Of course.” He stood and coolly bowed. “I’m on my way.”

She felt her shoulders sag with relief. “Thank you, Richard.”

He paused in the doorway. “Annika, I’m going to forget our conversation of this afternoon and I hope you do the same. I’m willing to take you back once you’ve come to your senses.”

Before she could reply, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

“I have come to my senses,” she said aloud. “For the first time in my life.”

“A
NOTHER
one, marshal?”

No matter how many times he told them not to call him marshal anymore, the citizens of Busted Heel ignored Kase Storm’s request. He nodded to Paddie O’Hallohan, the bar-keep, and tapped the rim of his glass. The bald Irishman with a fringe of white hair above his ears liberally sloshed whiskey into his glass.

Kase looked past Paddie and stared at himself in the mirror over the bar as he tossed back the drink. He never drank this early, hardly ever imbibed at all. Liquor didn’t agree with him. But when he’d scoured the town looking for the only doctor available for miles and found him missing, he had needed a stiff one to calm his nerves. It was too early for any of the cowhands to be in. It was too early for him, too, but he needed it. The place was deserted except for him and Paddie.

The last few weeks had been hell. He was scared to death for Rose, terrified she’d lose this baby. He wouldn’t even let himself think about losing Rose. Before he left the ranch today he’d forced himself to climb the slight knoll behind the house, to walk into the fenced area beneath a wind-twisted tree, and stare down at the tiny graves of his babies. He went down on his knees and called upon all the gods and prophets he could think of: Wakantankan, the god of his Sioux ancestors, Jehovah, Jesus, Allah, Buddha, Mohammed. He then opened his heart to the universe and swore that this child, this spark of hope, would live. His prayer was not a plea but an affirmation of hope. His child would live and Rose would live. He thanked the gods as if it were already true.

The plan to house the doctor at the ranch had been his own. The long wait and building fear that Rose would have to deliver without an expert at her bedside worried him nearly to death. The first baby had come long before expected. It arrived in a rush of blood and was far too small to survive. He had delivered it himself and swore he’d never do it again.

The others had been premature, too, one stillborn, the next lived less than three hours. She had perfect little hands and feet and features just like his. He had hidden his pain. It had seemed easier for Rose. She claimed God was testing her as she cut roses for the graves and visited the tiny mounds on the hill. She dealt with her grief openly and then lived life to the fullest.

He couldn’t do the same. He was terrified. The doctor had arrived in time for the last two births, but barely. Now, with Rose already a week late, Kase was sick of getting up every morning and saddling a horse so that he could send a man off at a moment’s notice. This morning he had asked himself, why not have the doctor at their beck and call? He was ready to pay the man a year’s wages to get him to agree to stay on at the ranch until the baby came, but his trek into town had been futile.

Before he started back, Kase had decided a drink was in order. A drink or two. He deserved it. Living with two temperamental women under his roof was getting him down. Annika was a bundle of nerves. And Richard Thexton? He wondered what his sister had ever seen in the man. He was everything Kase had left Boston to avoid. Straitlaced, dictated to by society’s rules, Thexton hadn’t so much as held his sister’s hand in front of him.

Kase stared down at the empty glass and waved Paddie away when he started to pour another. It wouldn’t do to go home drunk. Rose would have his head.

Hell, he thought. No wonder poor Annika had fallen for Buck Scott—if Richard was any indication of what she’d been exposed to, Scott was probably the first real man she’d ever met. Still, Kase didn’t know what he would do if he ever met Scott face-to-face. Not after what the man had done to his sister.

Annika. Kase shook his head. Now there was a pickle.

“Need something, marshal?”

“Just thinking, Paddie.”

If Annika was pregnant, he’d help her by doing everything he could to soften the blow for his mother and Caleb. God, but fate could be unkind—and they said lightning never struck twice.

He picked up his hat off the bar and centered it on his head. He ran his fingers around the brim, pulled it low, and pushed away from the bar. “Thanks, Paddie. See you next time.” He flipped the man two bits.

Paddie caught it in the air.

B
USTED
Heel wasn’t any different from any other small town Buck had drifted through in his youth. The false-fronted stores and saloons, the Chinese laundry, the livery, and the blacksmith were like all the rest. And like all the rest, Busted Heel was no doubt full of small-minded people set in their ways. That’s how it was with towns. Strangers were rarely welcome.

He reined in the powerful bay and dismounted outside the saloon and pulled his rifle out of its holster. Standing in the dirt in the street, he pushed back the brim of his hat and stared up at the sign across the building:
RUFFLED GARTER SALOON.
With a quick twist, he wrapped the reins around the hitching post and stepped up onto the boardwalk. It was dark inside the saloon, but the doors were open. As he crossed the walk, his moccasined feet soundless against the wood planks, he hoped he wouldn’t have to be in town long. All he’d come for were directions to the Storm ranch. Hopefully the first man he asked would know.

K
ASE
turned in time to see a hulking form fill the doorway. Silhouetted from the outside, the man was impossible to identify. The sun backlit his stark blond hair until it looked like a wild nimbus around his head. A momentary flash of thought made Kase think of Thor, the Viking god of Thunder.

“Anybody know how to find the Storm ranch?” Buck stepped inside and squinted, waiting for his vision to adjust to the dim light. The saloon smelled like stale cigar smoke, whiskey, and sweaty men—just like all the others he’d ever been in.

Fingering the Colt he wore when away from the ranch, Kase said quietly, “Who wants to know?” He hoped he didn’t have to face down another young tough trying to prove himself by drawing on the man who’d brought down the Dawson gang.

Buck heard the warning in the low voice and braced himself. He waited a split second longer, recognized the big half-breed with long hair. It was the man he’d seen at the station in Cheyenne the day he’d taken Annika. It was Kase Storm.

He saw the man’s hand hovering above his holster and knew he was a dead man. There was no way he could throw his knife or lift his rifle before Storm drew on him. Convinced he was about to die, Buck almost welcomed therelease.
Might as well get it over with,
he thought. “I’m Buck Scott.”

He expected to feel a bullet hit him between the eyes. When Kase Storm launched himself across the room and tackled him to the floor, Buck was felled more by surprise than the other man’s strength. When Kase hit him in the mouth, Buck felt his lip split and instinct took over.

Buck started swinging without thought. Chairs crashed to the floor as they rolled across the room. Both men’s hats went flying. Kase wound up on top and pinned him to the floor. He straddled Buck across the chest and planted his fist against Buck’s jaw.

Buck countered with a right to Kase’s cheek just below the eye.

Kase dodged and Buck unseated him. They rolled beneath a table, knocking three more chairs to the floor. The barkeep was yelling something Buck couldn’t discern. The man’s footsteps sounded on the floorboards near his ear and faded away.

Buck held Kase down by the neck and rammed his fist into the man’s nose. Blood spurted out. When he pulled back for another blow, Kase reached up behind him, grabbed his hair, and bent his head back.

Buck roared with pain and rolled to his side to get away.

Kase wouldn’t release his hair, so Buck grabbed his adversary’s long black queue. Locked in battle like two bull elks, they rolled out beneath the swinging door and onto the boardwalk.

When Kase clinched his fingers around Buck’s ears and pulled, Buck let go and grabbed Kase around the neck with both hands. Kase’s eyes widened, but Buck didn’t see fear behind them. As they stared at each other, both of them were panting heavily. Sweat ran down their brows and dust coated them from head to toe. Buck wondered how in the hell he could get out of this predicament without killing Annika’s brother.

She’d never forgive him if he did.

But he might die if he didn’t.

Kase Storm stared up at the giant from whose lip blood was dripping down onto his clean shirt. Rose was going to give him hell for that. The man’s meaty hands held his throat in an iron grip. Kase wondered how he could extricate himself without killing Annika’s lover.

She’d never forgive him if he did.

Kase’s face was growing redder as Buck’s grip tightened.

Buck wished Storm would let go of his ears.

Suddenly, a shot rang out, deafening them both. Buck closed his eyes and waited for the pain of a bullet to hit him. Kase held his breath. Neither felt a thing.

Another shot went off. Someone stepped up and kicked them both in the ribs. “God dammit, you varmints, let go of each other ‘fore I plug you both! Let go! Break it up!”

Kase recognized Zach’s voice and slowly let go of Buck Scott.

Buck waited a split second longer, frowned down at Kase, then rolled off him. He managed to get to his knees and wiped his bleeding lip on his torn shirt sleeve.

Kase sat up and pressed his hand to his nose. “Hell, I think you broke it,” he grumbled.

Buck didn’t say anything. He found himself staring down the barrel of an old six-shooter held by a time-worn old man who was squinting down at him with one eye. The old codger spit a stream of tobacco and waved the gun in his face.

“Hand me that buffalo knife, son, then tell me who you be and what’s goin’ on?”

“Buck Scott. I was just askin’ directions.” He unsheathed his knife and handed it to Zach handle first.