Emmy's Equal (24 page)

Diego rode toward the Campbell ranch glowing with pride, thinking about the eternal lessons he had just shared with Emmy. For the first time he understood that his mother’s people were his Christian ancestors, those men and women whose decisions to follow Jesus Christ were the reason Diego knew Him. The proud swell in his chest turned to shame as he realized they were the same ancestors he had fought so hard to deny.

The lights of the Campbells’ two-story, plastered-stone house beckoned in the distance. Standing against the dusky sky, it was a welcome sight. Diego was happy to see the end of the driveway, but no happier than his backside and the horse he sat. In some ways, Mr. Boteo’s Spanish mare had it better than Diego. She’d only made the trek to Catarina once that day.

Buck Campbell stepped onto the porch as they arrived. Squinting and twiddling his bushy moustache, he surveyed the large group of men as if trying to put a name to every face. His gaze came to rest on Diego. “Any luck?”

Diego dismounted, glad to be on the ground. “No, sir. Not yet.” The man ducked to scan the riders again. “My boys with you?”

“No, sir. They’re with a party of searchers somewhere north of here. We’ve come in hopes of taking advantage of your hospitality for a bit. I’ve got some tired men and thirsty horses.”

Mr. Campbell nodded. “Fine, fine. You get those animals tended then come to the house. The missus will be waiting with coffee and something hot to eat.”

He turned to go, but Diego held up his hand. “That coffee sounds good, but there’s no need to put Mrs. Campbell to any trouble. Most of the men have trail rations.”

He gave a curt wave. “Nonsense. A man can’t beat the brush all night on trail rations.”

“Sir, I’ve got better than twenty men out here.”

He chuckled. “That’s when a slew of daughters comes in handy. Won’t take them girls no time to fix your men something.” He pointed a warning finger. “So come back up to the house. You hear?”

Diego grinned. “Will do.”

He started to go inside again, but Diego cleared his throat. “Mr. Campbell?”

“Yes?”

Diego walked to Emmy’s horse and helped her down. “Would it be too much trouble if Miss Dane here freshens up inside?”

Under less trying circumstances, Mr. Campbell’s bug-eyed stare would be amusing. “That is a female! I was thinking she was the prettiest fellow I ever did see.” He laughed wildly. “Sure, she’ll clean up inside.” He offered his arm to Emmy. “I won’t have no little gal splashing off in a watering trough.”

Feeling more protective than he had the right, Diego handed her off to Buck Campbell. His restless men meandering behind him, Diego stayed rooted to the spot until Emmy disappeared through the door.

Cuddy sailed his hat over his horse, hitting Diego in the chest and almost startling him out of his chaps. “Peel your eyes off Emily and help me get these horses watered.”

He frowned at Cuddy. “Sí, amigo. I’m coming.” He took the reins of the big mare and started for the barn, deliberately tromping on Cuddy’s hat as he went.

By the time the last horse had cooled then drunk its fill, Mr. Campbell’s womenfolk had a table pulled out to the veranda and covered with food. Exhausted, dusty men settled wherever they could, whether the steps, the edge of the porch, or the ground. They ate quietly. Most, like Diego and probably Cuddy, were disturbed by the fact they’d found nothing.

The back door opened and Emmy stepped out, her eyes wide and searching. Spotting Diego and Cuddy, she lit up then pressed past the table to join them on the porch, limping and wincing with every step. Diego sat up straighter. “What happened to your feet?”

She eased herself carefully to the porch and swung her legs to the ground. “Greta’s boots are too big for me. They’ve rubbed blisters.”

Without waiting for permission, he pulled her foot across his knees. “That won’t do, Emmy. You’ll wind up with an infection.” He pulled on the heel and the boot slid right off. “No wonder. Knitted stockings. Look how thin they are.” He craned his neck behind him until he caught Mrs. Campbell’s attention. “Could we trouble you for a pair of thick woven socks?” He glanced at the size of her foot. “Make that two pair.”

Emmy struggled to pull her leg down. “Diego, please.”

“No arguments. This will make all the difference.”

She sat quietly while he carefully peeled the silky material away from the balls of her feet. He flinched at the angry red skin, but only the side of her big toe had a small watery bump. “It’s not as bad as it could be. We caught it in time.”

Mrs. Campbell dangled the socks across his shoulder, one pair red, the other a faded blue. “These do?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am. And I’ll make sure these are returned,” Diego said, gently slipping them on Emmy’s feet.

“Washed,” Emmy added, but Mrs. Campbell had already rushed inside for more clean plates.

After Diego felt satisfied with the fit of her boots, he brought her a plate piled high with bacon, eggs, and flapjacks, evidently the fastest meal the ladies could prepare with such short notice.

Emmy dug in like she’d not seen food in days.

Cuddy leaned against the corner post with his arms crossed, silently watching. If Diego happened to glance at him, he’d wiggle his brows or widen his eyes.

Diego was ready to thrash him when one of the younger Campbell girls approached Emmy and shyly held out her hand. “Some ladies from the church have organized a prayer circle for your folks in the parlor. Mama said you might care to join them.”

Tears sprang to Emmy’s eyes. She took the small hand in hers, and with a backward sniff at Diego, disappeared inside the house.

He spun on Cuddy. “What’s all the foolishness with those faces? If you have something to say, come out and say it.”

Cuddy held up both hands. “Don’t mind me. I’m just doing a little speculating, that’s all.”

“About?”

“Just noticing you being extra accommodating to Miss Emily. Makes me think you might step between her and a goat sucker after all.”

Diego blew out a breath in disgust. “Aren’t you ever serious about anything, Cuddy?” He pointed past the outbuildings. “That’s your father somewhere out there. Don’t you care?”

Cuddy leaped up and stood over him ashen-faced, his hands balled into fists. “You know I care! And don’t you act like you care more.” His eyes rimmed with red and a haze of tears blurred his eyes.

Ashamed, Diego gripped his clenched fist. “I’m sorry, Cuddy. I had no right.”

Resembling one of Mother’s young students, Cuddy snuffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Just because I don’t wear my feelings in plain sight don’t mean they ain’t there.”

“I know, amigo.” He stood and gave Cuddy a hearty pat on the back. “I hope you’ll forgive me. It’s been a long day.”

Mr. Campbell left his station on the porch where he’d been sitting all evening and took a seat on the top step. “So Mr. Rawson was on his way here, you say? Several days ago?”

Diego spit out the stalk of grass he’d been chewing and nodded. “Yes, sir. I told him you had some cattle for sale.”

He stuck out his bottom lip and angled his head at Cuddy. “You Rawsons looking to expand your stock?”

The poised son of a South Texas rancher again, Cuddy lifted his chin. “Nah, we’re happy with what we have.”

“Mr. Rawson’s inquiries would’ve been on behalf of a guest to the Twisted-R,” Diego provided. “A wealthy woman from Humble, a little town north of Houston.”

Mr. Campbell nodded. “I’ve been through Humble once.” He rubbed his chin. “What do you make of them never arriving, Diego? Beats all I ever did see.”

“That it does, sir. But we’ll find them. You can bet on it.”

“I know you will, son.” He glanced toward the barn. “Tell your men to mind their tackle. We have a problem with blue rats around here. They’ll gnaw your stuff to bits by morning if they find it on the ground.”

Diego nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll tell them.”

They talked a bit longer, and Diego tried to answer his questions the best he could, but the horses were rested and the men were getting too settled.

A clutch of solemn-faced women filed out the back door, and Diego stood to face the scattered men on the porch. “Like it or not, gents, the time has come. Let’s wind things up here and get back on the trail.”

His gaze darted over to the ladies. Mrs. Campbell noticed and hooked her thumb toward the house. “The poor dear is stretched across the bed in the guestroom fast asleep. Still crying, she was. I spread a blanket over her.”

Diego nodded and made a quick decision. “You mind if I leave her where she is for now?”

Hands clasped in front of her apron, Mrs. Campbell solemnly nodded. “I think it would be a shame to wake her.”

Cuddy sighed. “I don’t know, Diego. Emily wants to look for her folks, and I don’t blame her.”

Diego placed a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t either, but she’ll sleep until we get back. If we have her parents with us, she’ll be happy. If we don’t, she can spit and spew while she helps us search some more, but at least she’ll be rested.”

Cuddy nodded. “You have a point.” He grinned. “I mean besides the one on your head.”

Diego slapped him on the back, probably too hard. “Come on, then. Let’s go find your father.”

Magda was ten years old again, running along the windswept bank of Big Cypress Bayou. Her matted curls streamed behind her head as she dodged crawdad mounds and cypress knees.

Bertha gave chase, her head tossed back and her mouth wide with laughter. As they ran, the mists rising from the bayou darkened, enclosing them in thick, black froth.

Two figures appeared—Thad, Bertha’s long-departed husband, and Willem, smiling sweetly. A brilliant beam swirled from them in a rush, penetrating the haze and stabbing Magda’s eyes. She frantically tossed her head to get free of the piercing light.

Bertha shook her shoulder. “Wake up, sugar. With all that thrashing about, you must be having a dream.”

Magda sat up in the wagon and squinted against the sun’s rays. “Gracious! What time is it?”

“I don’t know. Well past dawn, that’s for sure. We must’ve slept like the dead.”

Magda’s gaze shot to Willem and her heart plunged. “Oh, Bertha. I think Willem might be.”

“Might be what?”

“Dead.”

Bertha’s head swung around. “Why do you say a thing like that?”

“Because I saw him in my dream, standing beside Thad in a mist.”

Bertha moved faster than Magda thought possible and pressed her ear to Willem’s chest. After a moment, she raised her head. “Nope. Still ticking.”

Running her trembling hand over his hair, a lump formed in Magda’s throat. “He’s still out, though. I don’t think he could sleep this long and be all right. Do you?” She wrung her hands. “Where in the devil could John be with that doctor?”

Bertha lifted one hand. “Hush a minute.” Looking scared, she pushed to her knees, listening carefully. “Magda, why’s it so quiet?” Standing, she spun in a circle. “Where on earth are the men?”

Magda held one hand over her heart. “What do you mean where are they? Stop that. You’re scaring me.”

Bertha shaded her eyes and stared toward the cattle, grazing much farther away than they’d been the day before. “I’m afraid it may be time to get scared.” Her face as pale as Willem’s, she blinked down at Magda. “There’s not a soul here but us, sugar. We’re all alone.”

“Miss Emily?”

Emmy whirled toward the sound, nearly falling off the bed in her haste. Fully dressed and tangled in covers from the waist down, she lay in a strange bed in a strange room staring at a lovely young woman she’d never met.

Her heartbeat swelled in her chest until it frightened her. “Where am I?”

A little brown-haired girl with big eyes peeked from behind the young woman’s skirt. “We’re the Campbells, ma’am. Don’t you remember?”

The picture of a small hand tucked in hers flashed through Emmy’s mind. The prayer circle. The search party. Mama and Papa.

Struggling against the covers, she swung her legs to the floor. Her stormy gaze flashed to the square of light around the window shade. “They left me?”

“You were sleeping,” the little one announced.

“Hush, Racheal. Let her get her bearings.” The older girl approached cautiously. “I’m Margaret. The oldest. Please, call me Megan. I hope you slept well”—her sweeping hand took in Emmy’s boots and clothes—“despite all that.”

Staring dully, Emmy brushed unruly strands of hair from her eyes, but static from the blue blanket teased them into the air in wriggling strands. “I can’t believe Diego left me.” She lifted her eyes. “Did he say anything?”

Megan pointed at the bed. “May I sit?”

Emmy nodded and slid to the side.

“Diego felt there was no reason to wake you. He said if you were that exhausted you needed to rest.”

Little Racheal jumped when Emmy slapped the side of the bed. “He had no right. It should’ve been my decision to make.”

The door creaked open and four more sets of curious eyes peered from the hall. Megan stamped her foot. “Stop all that sneaking about and say good morning to Emily.”

The girls filed in like obedient stair-steps, each a bit taller than the next. With their hands behind their backs, they curtsied one at a time in the order of their height. In other circumstances, Emmy would’ve been charmed.

The tallest came forward. “Morning, ma’am. I’m Samantha. They call me Sami.”

“And I’m Lauren,” the next one said. “Named after my uncle Laurence. I fetched you for the prayer circle. Remember?”

They were all blond, but the girl standing next to last had hair as white as Emmy’s. “My name is Emily.” Her cherry red mouth parted in a self-conscious smile. “Same as you.” She picked up the last tyke in line, a curly-topped angel. “This here’s Layla. She’s four.”

A bedraggled Mrs. Campbell appeared in the doorway, one hand holding a stack of folded clothes, the other over her heart. “Heavens! I see you’ve all disobeyed me. I asked you not to make pests of yourselves.” She smiled gently at Emmy. “You must be hungry. You’ve slept right though breakfast, but I’ve kept a plate warming for you.”

Emmy fought through her bitter disappointment to find her manners. “Thank you, ma’am. I suppose I am.”

“I’ve got clean clothes here for you. Megan’s about your size.” She laughed. “Wouldn’t have been last summer, but she hit a growing spurt.” She pointed at Emmy’s feet. “And two pair of fresh socks.”

“Oh, I couldn’t impose.”

“It’s no trouble at all. We’re glad to help.”

Waving her apron like a matador, Mrs. Campbell swept her brood of girls from the room. “All right now, let’s go and leave our guest some privacy.” She turned at the entrance. “I’m sorry they descended upon you before you’d barely opened your eyes. They meant no harm, just curious.”

Emmy nodded. “Of course.”

“Take your time, dear,” she said before easing the door shut.

Alone with her thoughts, Emmy mulled over how Diego could possibly have betrayed her trust. After the way he’d so tenderly ministered to her the night before, she thought he’d accepted her need to be part of the search.

She struggled to free herself from the pesky cover that wound around her lower body. Jerking the last persistent corner from under her bottom, she dashed it to the floor.

A pan of warm water and a clean towel awaited her on the dressing table, so she freshened up the best she could without a way to clean her teeth or brush her knotted hair. Rinsing the former and combing her fingers through the latter, she made a note to herself to pack her toiletries the next time she dashed off on a search party.

Her eyes flickered away from her image in the mirror. The flippant thought shamed her. Too much was at stake to find humor in any part of the situation.

She changed clothes then washed her tender feet before pulling on the socks and dreaded boots. With a heavy heart, she headed down to the Campbells’ kitchen, but not before folding the blue blanket and placing it on the end of the bed.

It wasn’t hard to find her way. The chatter of little girls led her into an open, cheery room lined with bright yellow shelves. Mrs. Campbell hovered over a pan of dishes—washing while Megan, the oldest, dried. Fair-haired Emily, who shared Emmy’s name, plied a broom on the kitchen floor. Lauren on the left and Sami on the right, if she remembered them correctly, bent over lessons at the table. Racheal and Layla sat on the floor scribbling pictures on a sheet of paper.

Emmy cleared her throat. “Good morning.”

All eyes in the room swung her way. Little Racheal’s forehead creased. “We already said that.”

“Hush!” her mother said, pulling out an empty chair for Emmy. “I know these eggs have turned to rubber. I’ll fix you fresh if you’d like.”

Emmy waved her hand. “No, ma’am. These are fine.”

Seven pairs of eyes followed the track of her fork to her mouth. Her cheeks warming, she pressed her napkin to her lips and swallowed.

Mrs. Campbell drew in a sharp breath, breaking the trance. “All right, ladies. Back to your own business. Let Miss Emily eat in peace.”

They quickly obeyed, Megan to her dishcloth, Emily to her broom, Layla to her drawing, and the middle two returned to their studies. Only pot-bellied Racheal stood clinging to the side of the table, staring at Emmy with wide brown eyes.

Emmy tore off a bite of bacon and tucked it into the child’s mouth. She blinked, her long lashes sweeping close to her cheeks, and then she beamed like a ray of sunshine and opened for more. Together, they had the plate nearly clean when Emmy heard the unmistakable sound of approaching riders.

She stood so fast she had to reach and steady Racheal before running to the window. Her heart crowding her throat, she whirled. “It’s them. It’s Diego.”

The girls scrambled to their feet, all talking at once. Mrs. Campbell spun from the counter. “Do they have your parents?”

Anticipation coursed through Emmy’s body, and her hand clutched her throat. “Oh, Mrs. Campbell. I don’t know.” Weaving past the inquisitive little girls, she burst out onto the porch, hope so strong in her heart she felt faint.

Followed by Cuddy and the Campbell brothers, Diego rode into the yard and came to a stop near the porch. One look at his drawn, dejected face as he dismounted gave Emmy her answer before she asked. Her parents were still lost.

Diego lowered his eyes. He couldn’t bear Emmy’s air of lost hope. For the last ten miles of grueling, spirit-busting trail, he’d prayed to stumble onto Mr. Rawson and her parents so he could return rejoicing instead of bearing bad news. One look at her told him he’d be spared speaking the words aloud.

Head down, she ran to him. He opened his arms, ready to comfort her, but she rammed him instead, her fists pounding his chest. “Why did you leave me? I could’ve done something.”

Diego pressed her closer. “No, honey. You couldn’t succeed where eighty men failed.”

She pushed away from him. “Where is everyone? Where are the rest?”

He tensed and swallowed hard. “I sent them home.”

She gaped at him. “How could you do that? We haven’t found them yet.”

Catching hold of her wrists, he lowered her to the porch and sat beside her. “They were spent, Emmy. We’ve covered miles of the roughest country in South Texas. I had to send them home before I lost most of them.”

He put his arm around her shoulders. “But I won’t give up, I promise.” He lifted his chin at Cuddy. “Neither will Cuddy. We plan to sleep for a couple of hours then head back out.”

“I’m going with you.”

He pulled her close and smoothed her hair. “We’ll talk about it.”

Mrs. Campbell stood on the threshold holding back the screen door. Lester crossed the yard and glanced up at her. “Where’s Pa?”

“He’s been at it all morning, covering for you boys.” She waved her dishcloth. “Don’t worry about that now. Tend all these horses, then eat something and go to bed. You can take over his chores this afternoon.”

Diego took off his hat and peered up at Mrs. Campbell. “We’re grateful for their help. I hope it hasn’t caused too much trouble.”

She smiled down at him. “What are neighbors for? We’re glad to—” Her gazed jumped from Diego to something behind him. “Look.” She pointed. “There comes a rider.”

Cuddy jumped on the porch and shaded his eyes. “Coming fast, too.”

Diego joined him. “Can you see who it is?”

“No, but I know that horse. It’s Little Pete.”

Emmy flew to her feet. “Little Pete? You don’t suppose he has good news?”

Diego glanced at her. The tone of her voice was hopeful, but her unease and the way she asked the question said she was afraid to get her hopes up too high. Diego tried not to add fuel to the fire. “Relax, honey. It could be about anything. Something’s always going wrong on a ranch.”

Cuddy leaped down. “Whatever it is, we’re about to find out.”

The three of them hurried to meet Little Pete as he drove the frothing horse into the yard. Cuddy reached him first. “What’s wrong, Pete? Has something happened?”

Looking past Cuddy, his eyes full moons, Little Pete sought Diego’s face. “Señor! He’s come home!”

Joy surged in Diego’s chest. “Mr. Rawson? He’s home?”

Emmy squeezed between them and clutched the front of Pete’s shirt. “And my parents, too?”

Shock registered on Little Pete’s face. “No, no, Señorita Dane.” He pushed her aside and stalked to Diego. “Not Mr. Rawson, señor!” His hysterical voice was shrill. “Faron! Faron’s come home without a rider.”

White-faced, Cuddy jerked his gaze to Diego.

Emmy spun, desperately clinging to Diego’s shirt before she crumpled. Grief-stricken, Diego picked her up and carried her limp body to the house.