Courage to Love (Flynn Family Saga) (15 page)

“Johnson!  When we stop for lunch, I want you to retie those water barrels.  We’ve got a smooth road until then, but one good jolt, and you’ll die of thirst on the desert.”  She fell back to the next wagon and noticed how the horses were straining.  “Anderson!  What are you carrying?  Lead?”

“No ma’am.  Books.”

Maggie sighed.  “Well, we’ll see who can take some of the load.  But you may have to lose some of them.”

“Not my books!”

Maggie nodded, trying to keep her sympathy from showing on her face.  “It’s that or lose your horses at the first steep hill.  Or worse yet, have your wagon break loose.  It’ll run down the horses pulling wagon behind you.  I’ve seen it happen.”

“Yes, Mrs. Flynn.”

Maggie dropped back another wagon.  Most of the train needed tightening, but there was one wagon at the back that was professionally loaded.  “This isn’t your first trip west, is it, Mr. Evans?”

Paul Evans shook his head.  “No ma’am.  I came across with my family three years ago.”

“I remember you.  Your mother taught me how to knit.”

Paul grinned.  “Well, she tried to anyway.”

Maggie laughed.  She sobered quickly though.  “Then why the return trip?”

Paul’s grin broadened.  “I came back to marry my childhood sweetheart.”  A pretty girl of no more than seventeen emerged from the wagon.  “This is my wife, Julie.”

Maggie’s stomach tightened with worry, but she nodded to the young girl.  Then she turned back to Paul.  “I’ll need you to help the others.”

Paul beamed with pride.  “Yes ma’am!”

That night, they made camp early.  Maggie slid from the saddle and stretched.  Every muscle ached.  With a pang of grief, she remembered how good it felt when Flynn rubbed the kinks out of her back when she was carrying Sarah.  Maggie took off her hat and brushed her arm over her eyes.  She lay down on her bedroll, but loneliness kept her awake a long time.  She stared at sky and wondered where Flynn was, and if he was watching the same stars.

Eventually, she fell asleep.  She dreamed of the night her parents died.  She woke with a cry.  For a moment, she hoped Flynn would come to her and comfort her.

But no one came.

Maggie sighed.  The eastern sky was beginning to lighten.  She walked to Frank’s cook fire.  He handed her a mug of coffee.  He opened his mouth and shut it.

“I miss him too, Frank.”

Frank smiled wryly.  “You’re getting as spooky as Sam.”

“Why thank you, Frank.”  Maggie grinned at him.

He grinned back.

After breakfast, it took them nearly an hour to get everyone hitched up and ready.  Finally, the wagons began to move slowly across the plain.  Maggie sent Ross ahead to scout for renegades.  She dropped back.

A solitary rider sat silhouetted by the morning sun.  He and his horse were so still they might have been carved out of stone.  Maggie’s breath caught.  “Flynn?” she whispered.

The rider turned and disappeared down the eastern side of the hill.

Maggie sighed and caught up to the train.

*  *  *

A week after his vision, Flynn saddled Wakta.  Sees Far and Woman Who Dreams came out to say good-bye.  Woman Who Dreams held out a necklace, made of bear claws and polished stones.

Flynn stared at her.

She laughed.  “No.  I didn’t dream your dream.  Keeper told me of your vision.”

Flynn laughed with her.  He took the necklace and put it around his neck.  “Thank you.”

Woman Who Dreams stood on tiptoe and hugged him.  “Be well, Flynn.  Tell Fire-haired Woman that we miss her.”

Flynn put his hands on his hips.  “Who says I’m going to look for her?”

Sees Far laughed.  “You don’t have to be a seer to know that.”

Flynn smiled at his brother.  They clasped hands.  Then, Flynn turned and mounted Wakta.  He rode southward, toward the trail that he knew Maggie would take to avoid Sees Far’s territory.

Three weeks later, Flynn watched the wagon train move slowly across the valley.  He was torn.  He longed to ride down the hill and into the circle of light, but the memory of the day he abandoned Maggie stopped him.  He sighed and unsaddled Wakta.  He made camp, but he had no appetite.  He lay a long time with his head propped against his saddle, staring at the fire.  Finally, he slept.

*  *  *

That night, Maggie dreamed again of her parents’ death.  She lay beneath the wagon, unable to move as they fought.  She found herself inside the wagon, and she watched, helplessly, as they tugged at the jug.  Michael struck Lucy, and she fell, striking her head against a crate.  Her blood ran across the floor of the wagon.  Michael cried out in anguish.  He grabbed his shotgun.  His finger squeezed the trigger.

Maggie woke from a nightmare with her heart pounding.  She could
smell
the odor of blood and corn liquor.  She could
feel
the warm, soft tissue on her face.

She shuddered.

She got up and went to Frank’s cook fire.  It was late, but he always had a pot of coffee on the fire for the guards.  It was hot and bitter, but Maggie welcomed it.

She did not want to sleep again that night.

A single gunshot shattered the predawn quiet.  Maggie dropped her mug and ran toward the sound, drawing her pistol as she passed her holster.

Ross lay on the ground.  His eyes stared upward, sightless.  A man who could have been Nick Vaughn’s twin stood holding a knife across Julie Evans’ throat.  When he saw Maggie, he smiled.  “Put down the gun, Miz Flynn.”

Slowly, carefully, Maggie set down her pistol.  She heard the sound of someone pumping the action on a Henry rifle behind her.  She shook her head.  “Don’t, Ben.  He can kill Julie faster than you can shoot him.”

“That’s right, Ben.”  The man shook his head.  “That boy Flynn sure don’t know what he’s missin’.  His wife ain’t just pretty.  She’s smart, too.”

“What do you want?”  Maggie was surprised at how steady her voice was.

“And reasonable.”  The stranger sighed.  “Well, Miz Flynn, I want you.”

Maggie shuddered at the expression on his face, but she nodded.  “All right.  If I go with you, will you let Julie go?”

“Sure.  On one condition.  This here Ben promises not to come after you.”

“I can’t do that, Maggie.”

Maggie turned to face Ben.  She drew on every memory she had of Sam’s strength and authority.  “Ben, I need you to do what he says.  I need you to get these people to California.  Otherwise, we’re going to have to fight him, and Julie Evans will die.”

Ben’s face twisted with anger for a moment, and Maggie held her breath.  Then, he sighed.  “All right, Maggie.  But if you don’t catch up to us by the time we get to Wyoming, I’m going to come looking for you.”

“Me too,” Frank said.  He looked ridiculous in his red long johns, but Maggie knew he could be formidable in a fight.

She turned back to the stranger.  “How do you want to do this?”

“You just walk toward me real slow.  As soon as you get close enough, I’ll let this sweet young thing go back to her husband.”

Maggie nodded.  She walked toward the man with the knife.  “What’s your name?”

Again, he smiled.  “Leroy Vaughn, at your service, ma’am.”  His smile winked out.  “You and your husband killed my brothers.”

Maggie took one more step.  Leroy’s hand snaked out and seized her wrist so tightly that it hurt, but she managed not to flinch.  Julie ran sobbing toward the crowd of men.  Leroy pulled Maggie closer and laid the blade of his knife across her throat.  The metal was warm from being pressed against Julie’s skin.  Maggie’s heart began to pound again.

“You.  Ben.  I want two horses, saddled.  And enough provisions to get us far enough away that you won’t want to waste time tracking us.”  Leroy spat out orders like a drill sergeant.

Ben hesitated.

Maggie nodded slightly.

Ben turned and issued the orders.

Maggie felt a thrill of pride.  Billy Brewster led the horses into the light of Frank’s fire.  His face was pale, and he gripped the reins so tightly that his knuckles were white.

Maggie smiled at him with a confidence she did not feel.  “It’s going to be all right, Billy.”

He nodded hesitantly, and she could see the doubt in his eyes.

Well, she felt the same way.

Leroy took a length of rawhide from his belt and handed it to Billy.  “Tie her wrists together.”

Billy glared at him.  “How do you expect her to ride with her hands tied?”

Leroy laughed.  “I’ve seen her ride.  Hell, she could ride bareback with both hands tied behind her.  But I’m feeling generous tonight.  You can tie her hands in front of her.  She can hold onto the saddle horn, if she’s feeling poorly.”

Billy shook his head, but he obeyed Leroy.

“Tighter!”  Leroy nicked Maggie’s neck with the knife.  She felt a slow trickle of blood down her chest between her breasts.

Billy swallowed hard.  He untied her and wrapped the thong tighter around her wrists, but not so tight that it hurt.

Leroy nodded.  “That’s better.  Now, help the lady onto her horse.”

Billy nodded.  He held out his hands with his fingers laced together.  Maggie stepped onto his hands and he boosted her onto Lady’s back.  Leroy mounted Thunder, a dark gray gelding.  He grabbed the reins that dangled uselessly against Lady’s neck.  He turned Thunder and rode out of the circle of light.

They rode until it was almost dawn.  Leroy stopped beside the Platte.  Three men sat round a fire.  Maggie could smell them from the back of her horse.  Tears blurred Maggie’s vision when she recognized the place where Flynn had taken her, all those years ago.  Her parents had just died, and Sam was going to send her back to St. Jo.  Flynn had brought her here and shown her a glimpse of the prairie.  He had caught a fish, cooked it and fed it to her from a stick.

Angrily, Maggie blinked back her tears.

Leroy dismounted.  Then, he turned to help Maggie down from her horse.

Maggie saw her chance.  She kicked him in the face.  Maggie kicked Lady's sides, and the mare leaped into a gallop.  For a moment, Maggie began to hope that she would get away from Leroy.  Then, she heard the whistle of a lariat.  The rope encircled her chest.  She was yanked backward from the saddle and landed on the ground.  The fall knocked the breath out of her.

Leroy rode up to her and jumped from Thunder's back.  He yanked her to her feet.  He slapped her so hard that her ears rang.  Her vision blurred, and for a moment, she thought it was Michael who held her arm.  She fought back desperately, but there were four of them.  The tallest man struck her jaw, and darkness claimed her.

She dreamed of living over the saloon.  She smelled the stale beer and urine.  She heard the coarse laughter of the men as they climbed the stairs to Angelica's room.  But they didn't go into Angelica's room.  They turned and came into the room Maggie shared with her mother.

"No!"  Maggie scooted backward, but the man caught her easily.  Laughing, he tore her blouse.

Maggie screamed.

She woke, and her nightmare was still happening.

She shut her eyes.

*  *  *

Flynn camped on the eastern side of the hill.  The night was still and clear, but he felt restless.  He took out his battered copy of
Don Quixote
and began to read.  Eventually, he slept.  He dreamed of Jennie's death.  He saw her mounted on her white mare with her hands tied behind her back.  He saw Nick Vaughn raise his hand to strike the horse's rump.  He saw the horse leap forward, saw Jennie fail backward, saw the noose tighten around her neck.  Then, the dream changed.  He saw Maggie, lying on the ground.  Her shirt was torn, and her eyes were large with fear.  A shadow loomed over her, a man.  He turned and grinned at his sons.

Leroy Vaughn.

Flynn woke with a start.

"Well now.  Ain't this nice?"  Leroy Vaughn stood over Flynn.  Slowly, he grinned.  "First we got your wife, and now we got you."  His grin disappeared as if it had never been.  "Get up."

Flynn hesitated, thinking fast.  "I need my crutch."

The eldest Vaughn frowned.  "You look all right to me."

Flynn pulled up the leg of his trousers and revealed his wooden leg.

Slowly, Leroy Vaughn grinned again.  "Fetch it, Orville."

Orville Vaughn obeyed.

Flynn rested all of his weight on his left leg as he levered himself up.  He let them lead him along the river to the place where Maggie lay.

Her shirt was torn.

Rage seared along Flynn's nerves and nearly blinded him.

Beside him, Leroy's grin broadened.  "This is going to be a whole lot of fun."

Maggie opened her mouth to ask a question, but he shook his head almost imperceptibly.  Maggie closed her mouth without speaking.

He cleared his throat.  "Maggie, remember what I taught you?"

Leroy chuckled.  "You taught her some redskin sex tricks, did you?"

Maggie shut her eyes and shuddered.

Flynn's chest felt as if someone had wrapped the steel rim of a wagon wheel around it and then plunged him into cold water.  It was hard to breathe, much less think.  He ground his teeth as Leroy fumbled with the fastening of his trousers.  Maggie started to whimper.  "Please, don't."

Leroy jerked his head toward Maggie.  "Bring Flynn over here.  I want him to see this."

It was all Flynn could do to keep from grinning.  He struggled weakly as two of the men dragged him over to Maggie.  He stood a little behind Leroy Vaughn.  Maggie looked pointedly at her legs.  Flynn nodded, again.

Leroy turned to kin.  "Don't worry, boys.  You'll all get a turn."  He straddled her legs and bent to unfasten her trousers.

Maggie's leg came up hard.  Vaughn grunted in pain and fell to his knees.  But Maggie had already pulled her legs up to her chest.  She kicked him in the face.

And Flynn moved.  His wooden leg lashed out and caught Orville in the belly.  Orville's breath went out with a whoosh, and he let go of Flynn's right arm.  Flynn drew his knife from his right boot and threw it, killing one of the men who held Maggie.  Orville drew his pistol and fired, but his shot missed Flynn entirely.  Maggie rolled over and grabbed a pistol from the belt of the man on her left.  She shot him before he could react.  Then, she rolled and shot Leroy.