Emmy's Equal (25 page)

Terrified, Magda clung to Willem’s lifeless hand. Her eyes darting at every sound, she prayed for John to ride up on Faron telling her everything would be fine. She prayed for Benito, Juan, even Carl to saunter out of the brush. Tightening into a ball in the rear of the wagon, she prayed for God at least to bring Bertha back from where she’d gone.

More than half an hour had passed since she’d announced she was going to scout out their situation. No matter how hard Magda begged, the spunky little woman had wriggled to the end of the wagon bed and dropped off the end. “Stay here,” she’d ordered, as if Magda had anywhere to go. “I’ve got to try and sort this out.”

Magda tried to busy herself with caring for Willem, wiping his face and trickling more water into his mouth, but she grew more frightened with each passing second. Shuddering, she imagined the dried-up shells of men scattered somewhere nearby, drained of every drop of blood by a sharp-fanged beast.

If Bertha had fallen into the clutches of whatever was picking them off, she and Willem were next. Glancing around, she scoured the wagon for a weapon, but all she had at her disposal were Bertha’s crates from the mercantile.

She broke into the two nearest boxes and groaned. No matter how imaginative Magda was, she couldn’t devise a way of using child-sized bloomers or hardtack to fend off a carnivorous animal thirsty for her life’s blood.

The third box held more promise. She took a quick count of the contents, wondering how long she could hold off a bloodsucker with twenty cans of beans.

“This ain’t no time for filling your gut.”

Nearly swallowing her tongue, Magda drew back and threw.

Bertha ducked and the can sailed over her head, bouncing off the trunk of an oak tree with a dull thud. She peeked over the wagon bed with astonished eyes. “Did you just throw a can of beans at me?”

Limp, Magda fell against the backboard. “I reckon I did.”

“What possessed you?”

“Something with fangs, I think.”

Bertha stood up straight. “What?”

“Never mind. What did you find out?”

“I found out we’re alone, all right. There’s no trace of those men.” She pointed. “Except for their things. Juan even left his cooking pots behind.” She shook her head. “Why would they go with only the clothes on their backs and leave two women to fend for themselves?”

Magda heaved a sigh. “For themselves and a whole herd of cattle.”

Bertha pursed her lips. “Well, that’s another thing. There ain’t near the cattle there was last night. The herd’s smaller by half.”

Magda rose to her knees and crawled to where Bertha stood, wincing at the stiffness that had set in from sitting so long beside Willem. “Would you like to tell me how six grown men and half a herd could simply vanish?” She shook her head. “It don’t happen, Bertha. What’s going on here?”

“Six?” Bertha counted on her fingers. “How do you cipher six men?”

“First, that no ’count Wayne—”

“Wayne ran off.”

“Then John and the doctor—”

“It’s wishful thinking to assume there’s a doctor. I don’t think John made it that far.”

“Now Benito, Juan, and Carl. That makes six.” Tears sprang to Magda’s eyes. “Whether five or six, half the herd or one, they’re gone. Missing under very peculiar circumstances.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “And we’re next.”

Bertha furrowed her brow. “Don’t start making something spooky out of this. There’s got to be a simple explanation.”

Magda slid her legs off the wagon to dangle them from the side. “I wish you’d explain it then, because I’m downright scared.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Not so much for myself. It’s Willem. He’s lying there so helpless.”

She wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands. “That man has taken care of me for twenty-two years. When he needs me the most, I’m not sure I can return the favor.”

“Why couldn’t you?”

Magda flapped her hands in frustration. “I don’t even know what we’re up against.”

Crossing her arms, Bertha stared in concentration. “First off, them cows ain’t missing under peculiar circumstances.”

Magda squinted at her. “So you believe some ran away and the others stayed?”

Bertha snorted. “I think they was escorted away. Those men stole them.”

“Why half the herd?”

Bertha raised her chin. “The best half, them with no horns.”

Magda placed her hands on her hips. “I’ll never believe Benito and that nice Juan are capable of such a thing. Don’t you remember how kind their eyes were and how they looked after us on the trail?”

Bertha scratched her head. “I’ll agree they didn’t seem to have any potential for mischief. And poor simple Carl couldn’t pull this off without written instructions.” Her eyes narrowed. “But that brother of his sure could.”

Magda lifted her finger. “True, but he’d have to convince Benito and Juan to go along. He wasn’t around long enough. And don’t forget John. What happened to him?” She looked at Willem again. “John would never leave his friend in this condition.”

Walking thoughtfully to the thrown can, Bertha picked it up and examined it through squinted eyes. “We’re spinning in the wind with all this jaw flapping. We’re only sure of one thing at this point—we have to find help for Willem.” She tossed the can at Magda. “Climb down out of there and fix us something to eat. I’ll be hitching up the horses.”

Magda scrambled to the ground, hope surging in her chest. “You really think we can find help, Bertha?”

“I reckon we’d better.”

“But where do we go? For that matter, where are we now?”

Bertha wadded her fists on her hips and stared in the direction they’d come. “John’s had us following the river since Eagle Pass. I’d say we’ve come better than twenty miles.” She looked over her shoulder. “Which means we’re halfway to Carrizo Springs.” She made a quarter turn and pointed. “All we have to do is head due east. We’re bound to hit that Indian trail eventually. From there we know the way home.”

Excitement and fear built twin fires in Magda’s gut. “But that’s a long, hard ride. What if Willem can’t make it, Bertha? And what if we get lost?”

Bertha swiveled at the waist to glare at her. “What if we sit right here and wait for the three of us to die?”

Magda swallowed. “Wouldn’t it be smarter to find this El Indio place John told us about? He said it was only a few miles back.”

“Good idea, sugar.” Bertha held her arm out, swiveling it as she spoke. “Is it that way, close to the river? Maybe more northeast? What about right down the middle?” She shook her head. “Unless John drew you a map you haven’t told me about, I say we stick to what we know.” She ducked her head at Willem. “We know there’s a doctor in Carrizo Springs.”

Magda glanced at the remaining cattle on the distant plain. “What about the herd?”

“We leave them here. We’re not drovers, and there’s enough to worry about with Willem. John can round them up later.” She waved at the supplies. “Forget cooking. Just rustle up something we can eat on the way.”

Magda’s ears buzzed as if a cricket sing-along swelled inside her head. “I don’t know, Bertha. I’m still not sure.”

Bertha tromped to where she stood. “Merciful heavens! All this hand wringing and second-guessing ain’t your style. What’s got into you?” Her stormy gaze flew to Willem again. “We need to make a decision and get on the road. We’re wasting precious time.”

Sobs welled inside of Magda. She released them in a piteous moan. “I’m sorry, Bertha. And grateful. I’ve always been the strong one, but with Willem so bad off, I’ve wilted like hot greens.”

Bertha hugged her around the middle. “What’s really bothering you, sugar?”

The tears flowed harder. She wiped them from her cheeks before they dripped on Bertha’s head. “I’m afraid to find a doctor. I don’t think I’ll like what he has to say.”

Bertha leaned back and gave her a shake. “You’re stronger than that, honey. And if not, I’ll be with you.”

Magda wiped her eyes. “You’ve been there for me already. I can never repay you.”

“No need. You were there for me when I lost Thad.” She released Magda, her jaw set. “Only we ain’t losing Willem. I say we head toward Carrizo Springs as fast as we can.”

Tilting her head, Magda gazed at her from narrowed eyes. “You’re having one of your feelings, aren’t you?”

Bertha nodded firmly. “Yep, a strong feeling, and one we’d best heed.”

Smiling, Magda mimicked her nod. “Go hitch the horses, then. I’ll get us ready to go.”

Emmy bolted upright on the Campbells’ settee. Before her spinning head convinced her to squeeze her eyes shut again, she caught a glimpse of Diego’s drawn face. Unless she was mistaken, Mrs. Campbell and her frightened girls flanked him. She shook her head to clear it and carefully opened her eyes.

Diego pressed closer. “Are you all right?”

She scooted to the edge of the cushion, forcing him to make room for her knees. “Tell me what it means, Diego,” she pleaded, resting her forehead on her palms. “If Faron returned without Mr. Rawson, they’re not coming home, are they?”

He grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away. “It means no such thing.”

Her head jerked up. “Then explain it.”

His bluster wilted. “I can’t, not yet. I’ll know a lot more when I see Faron.”

“What will that tell you?” she asked.

“If he’s been wet or he’s muddy, if he’s scratched up from briars, then I’ll have a better idea of where he’s been.” He averted his eyes. “The condition of the saddle or stirrups might tell me if he’s been dragging a rider.”

He latched onto her arms. “One thing I do know. We’ve been going about the search all wrong.”

She sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”

“Remember what you asked me? If they were headed to the Campbells’, why didn’t they make it?”

She nodded.

“It’s because they were no longer headed to the Campbells’. Little Pete said Faron came home along the road to Eagle Pass.”

She blinked. “That’s far away, isn’t it?”

“About forty miles.” His mouth tightened. “Forty miles in the opposite direction.”

Her head reeled again. “They wouldn’t go all the way to Eagle Pass without telling anyone. Would they?”

Joe Campbell stepped out of the kitchen with a plate of food in his hand. “Did somebody say Eagle Pass?”

Diego nodded.

The color drained from the boy’s face. He sat on the arm of an easy chair and slid his plate onto the low table in front of him. Staring at the floor, he shook his head. “Naw, it couldn’t be.”

Concern lining her brow, Mrs. Campbell stepped closer. “What is it, son?”

He gazed up at her, his face a blank slate. “I think I saw Mr. Rawson on the road. In fact, I sent him and his friends to Eagle Pass.”

“What?”

With so many voices shouting the word, Joe couldn’t make up his mind who to answer. He settled on his mother. “I met some folks on their way here to buy stock. I told them we sold all we had then suggested a breeder in Eagle Pass.”

“Joseph Campbell! Why didn’t you speak up sooner?”

He cut frightened eyes to Diego. “The man never said he was Mr. Rawson, that’s why. I told him I was headed for the Twisted-R Ranch, and he never said a word. If he was the owner, wouldn’t he have said something?”

Laughing, Cuddy spoke up from the corner where he lounged against the wall. “I told you there wasn’t anything wrong. They’re living it up in Eagle Pass without a care in the world, just like I thought.”

Emmy swung toward him. “Then what about Faron?”

He waved off her concern. “Faron got away from the old man and came home. Though my father would never admit it, that horse is too much for him.”

Little Pete cleared his throat. “Um ... Diego?”

Diego swiveled to see him better. “What is it, Pete?”

Pete tugged on his collar and swallowed. “Speaking of Faron, I forgot to tell you one thing.”

Diego stood, his back rigid. “Go ahead.”

“Señora Rawson? She’s ordered him shot.”

“And you’re telling me now?”

“
Siento mucho,
señor. When the lady fainted, I—”

Diego whirled to Emmy. “Can you ride?”

She leaped to her feet. “Yes!”

He waved over his shoulder and ran for the door. “Let’s go!”

Emmy rushed to follow the men outside, calling her thanks to Mrs. Campbell as she went.

Megan waved from the porch, but the five younger girls chased them from the yard, squealing and shouting their good-byes.

Emmy’s gaze followed Diego riding just ahead. Concern for him stirred an ache inside worse than sore muscles or tender feet. His rich complexion appeared ashy with fatigue, and dark smudges around his eyes deepened the sockets. It amazed her how the news about Faron brought a surge of new life. His distress was more than the normal reaction for the welfare of a helpless animal. Diego had to love the big horse very much.

Dodging flying debris from the thundering hooves up ahead, Emmy prayed Faron wouldn’t wind up the first tragic casualty in a string of potential losses.

Cringing, Melatha tossed the pan of bread in the sink with a rattle and clang then closed the oven door and ran.

Kate Rawson had awakened. Her shrill voice on the back porch left no doubt of the fact. Still in her dressing gown and slippers, the hair on her head shot in every direction, not unlike a disgruntled badger.

Melatha eased closer, but not too close.

The woman brandished a long-barreled pistol in her hand. “I want it done, and done now!” she shrieked. “No more delays.”

Poor Felipe squirmed, twisting his hat in his hands. “I have not the authority, señora.” He looked over his shoulder, desperation widening his eyes. “I only cover for Pete. He will return soon.”

She raised the gun, waving it for emphasis, sending Felipe ducking and spinning out of range. “What do you mean you have no authority?
I
am your authority, and I’m ordering you to shoot that horse.” She stamped her foot. “This instant.”

“But, señora...”

Slipping a few steps nearer, Melatha began to speak to her in a soothing voice. “Mrs. Rawson? Kate?”

She whirled. “Melatha, it won’t work this time. You convinced me to lie down for a bit so I wouldn’t be acting in haste. Well, I’ve done as you asked, and I’m more determined than ever. That demon should’ve been put down hours ago,” she pressed her free hand to her trembling mouth, and her voice rose to a shrill wail, “when he trotted into this yard looking for feed after killing my John!”