Jodi Thomas (38 page)

Her fingers pushed lightly on his chest. “We must talk about what happened.”

Tightly, he cradled her against him. “We talked last night. Your body told me everything my heart wants to know.”

“But . . .”

He ended the discussion with a kiss almost brutal with the loss he already felt.

As he kissed her, Anna felt the warmth of his love as strong as the arms that bound her to him. Her fingers moved up his chest and encircled his neck as her last rational thought faded. There would be time to tell him later that last night must never happen again.

Finally, Chance broke the kiss and whispered, “I’d like to continue this conversation, but there are riders coming.”

Anna pulled her wrapper tight just as riders turned the corner at full speed. Frantically, she tried to push her hair back into some semblance of respectability, but she knew it was hopeless. A dozen men or more rode up to John’s house next door and dismounted as though they were in a race.

By now, Mrs. Basse and half her clan had joined Anna and Chance on the porch. The men destroyed the stillness of the morning with their shouts for John, and their horses stomped and snorted until a brown dust cloud rose from the ground like smoke from an evil witch’s brew. The excitement infected the children immediately. Other neighbors poured outside in their nightclothes to see what was happening. Everyone was talking and shouting at once, and Anna couldn’t understand a word being said.

Maggie clung to her waist in fright. “What is it, Anna? Why is everyone yelling?”

Anna patted her black curls so like her brother’s and answered truthfully. “I don’t know.”

Chance walked over to the men and Anna watched as he calmly talked with them. She spotted Walter’s plump frame pushing through the crowd. Then he climbed onto John’s porch and shouted, “I say we ride out and kill every Indian we find!”

Towering above Walter, John shouted to the men around him. “That’s not the answer. We have to reason with them and somehow make peace. I thought I made it plain last night, Walter: There will be no killing unless all else fails.”

Walter puffed like a biscuit full of soda. “If you ask me, all else has failed.”

John’s normally kind face hardened slightly. “I don’t remember asking you.”

The two men stared at one another a moment, then Walter looked away.

Someone in the crowd yelled, “What about the men we sent out last time? They were murdered.”

John shook his head. “We have to try. From what Walter says, they made some mistakes. If we act hostile, the Indians are as likely to kill as any people.”

Walter stormed off the porch, having lost his following. He pushed his way through the crowd like a fat pig rooting through knee-deep mud. When he reached the Basses’ porch he was heaving and wiping sweat from his face. Looking up, he saw Anna and his anger seemed to flare anew.

“You look as wild as this land.” His eyes roamed from her wild hair to her bare feet. “Tell me, how is the Texan’s wife?” His greeting was meant as an insult. This year hadn’t been good for him, and the past months had etched years of bitterness into his deeply wrinkled frown. It had been a mistake for him to pull up roots, but he hadn’t been strong enough to hold fast, and William had swept him along with his dream. Now he seemed unable to grow on alien soil, so he festered, unable to turn back.

“I’m fine.” Anna looked down at him and for the first time pitied him. He’d been a big man in their little town, with a large circle of lifelong friends and an old family name. Now he was someone who was pushed aside without a second thought. Mrs. Basse had even said that many didn’t put any faith in his story of how the other men had been killed by Indians. Rumors spread about their deaths because all the men had been single, and Walter, because he held the notes for their land, was the only one who benefited from their deaths.

He snorted in an attempt to laugh. “You seem to be faring well with your half-civilized husband. Back home you would not be welcome in a single home with such a man, and yet out here he’ll probably fight those Indian butchers on equal ground.”

Anna knew there was just a grain of truth in his mountain of lies. Chance wasn’t the kind of man she could have taken to dinners given by gentlefolk like those her husband and mother hosted, and she couldn’t imagine him sitting in the drawing room discussing politics or poetry. But Chance had never hurt her as they had. He would never live a lie; and he’d loved her with a tenderness she’d never known existed. Anna stared at Walter. “I’m fully confident that my husband can protect me from any enemies—of any color.”

Hatred flickered in Walter’s eyes and centered suddenly on Anna. “You stand pretty high and mighty with your savage to protect you. It sickens me to think that this dream of a new life took my wife and my best friend and left you. But then, weeds thrive on any soil.”

Anna tried to remain calm, for she knew Walter had never liked her, and grief for his wife had left him a penniless and bitter drunkard. “I’m sorry your wife died,” she answered.

“Don’t go giving me any of your pity. I’m pulling out of this. I might even come up on top with more land than anyone. Who knows? I might even have that little farm of yours before next spring.”

“You’ll never own my land.”

“We’ll see.” Walter laughed and melted back into the crowd of men.

A chill passed over her and she knew he was up to something. He wasn’t an honest man, and she knew he’d had schemes in Germany too, but there had never been any evidence to prove it.

A wagon clamored into the clearing at almost full speed. Anna recognized Tobin and Selma bobbing on the seat. Chance stepped from the others to help slow the horses. The tiny woman jumped from the seat as soon as she saw Anna. She lifted her skirts and ran toward them with tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Anna! Maggie!” she cried as she hugged them both wildly. “I’m so glad you’re here. We didn’t know where you were. When the report came of the Indian raids, we were so worried about you.”

“Indian raids? Near our land?” Chance spoke from behind them.

Selma nodded vigorously. “There’ve been some farms raided nearby. None of the Germans yet, but we could be next.”

Chance caught Anna’s gaze over Selma’s head. “Maybe we’d better talk about this without the children around.”

Anna agreed and noticed Mrs. Basse had already taken the hint and was sweeping all the children into the house with reassuring words and healthy pats on their behinds.

Chance sat Selma down on the porch’s only chair and instructed her to start at the beginning.

Gulping several deep breaths, she said, “We got word yesterday, and when Tobin came by with a load of lumber for your house, Carl ordered me to town where I’d be safe. He says he has to stay with the farm or the crops will rot in the fields and we’ll starve this winter.” Her round eyes filled with tears. “I’ve never been away from him. Not one day since we were married. He’s not a fighter.” She grabbed Chance’s arm. “You know that. You’ve shot every piece of meat we’ve eaten this summer. You’ve got to go to him now.”

Chance straightened. “I’ll saddle up.” He looked at Anna. “I’ll check with John and Tobin and be on my way within an hour.”

He patted Selma’s hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to any man who’s lucky enough to have a woman like you crying over him.”

As he stepped from the porch, he glanced at Anna and she saw a touch of sadness in his eyes before his gaze turned to blue stone. Was he only sorry for Selma, or did he wonder if anyone would cry for him? Did he think she cared so little for him? A flood of tears welled behind her eyes, but she held them at bay and choked back the fear that wanted to beg him not to go.

An hour later, Chance walked into the barn to saddle Cyoty, knowing he’d have to travel fast to be of any help to Carl. If the Indians were raiding farms, they wouldn’t take many days off. He’d taken the time to talk to several men, and so far all he’d heard were rumors, but rumors had a way of hatching from a kernel of truth.

As he lifted the saddle onto Cyoty’s back, Chance saw someone enter the barn. For a moment he thought it was a man, but there was no mistaking the soft curve of Anna’s hips even in a pair of pants. Her hair was tied back at the base of her neck and her moccasins were laced to her knees.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Chance knew, but didn’t want to admit it even to himself.

“I’m going with you.”

“I don’t suppose it would do me any good to order you to stay in town.” If Chance hadn’t been so angry he would have admired her stubborn spirit.

“No.” Anna led Cinnamon from the stall. Someone had already saddled the huge sorrel and Anna’s carpetbag was tied onto the back of the saddle.

“I need to ride fast.”

“I won’t slow you down. That’s why I borrowed some clothes from one of the Basse boys.” She swung into the saddle with a grace that proved her point.

“But the baby?” Chance wasn’t giving up. He wanted her safe in town.

“Mrs. Basse can feed her and see after Maggie. Cherish is almost four months old now; she’ll be fine. I had Mrs. Basse wrap my chest so that my milk will dry up.”

Chance placed his hand over hers as they gripped the reins. “Much as I want you with me, you can’t go. It’s too dangerous. I’ll check things out and in a week or so I’ll send for you.”

“It’s my land and no one is going to take it from me. If the Indians try, they’ll have to kill me. I’m going and there is nothing you can say to stop me.”

“Dammit, if you’re not the most headstrong person God ever dropped from heaven. I’ve a good mind to pull you from that saddle and teach you a thing or two.”

Anna kicked Cinnamon and was out of the barn before Chance could react. “You’ll have to catch me first.”

Chance mounted Cyoty and followed in a cloud of dust. They were over a mile outside of town before Anna slowed and he caught up to her.

“All right.” Chance shoved his hat back. “You made your point. You can ride better than most men I’ve seen. But that doesn’t change the fact that you have no business going back with me.”

“I have every right to go back with you. I can shoot as well as I ride and I’ll be more help than Carl in a fight.”

Chance couldn’t argue that point with her. He’d rather have her at his back than Carl any day. “If you go, you agree here and now to follow orders. I don’t want you questioning me in the middle of trouble.”

“Agreed.” Anna smiled, knowing she’d won.

“And we ride hard. I have no time for complaints.” He knew there was no need to say it, for Anna was not a woman to complain. “I’m not sure what we’re going to find.”

“You think it’s Storm’s Edge, don’t you?” Anna’s words startled him.

Frowning for a moment, he didn’t know whether to lie to her or tell her the truth. “It could be, from what some of the men were saying. John’s been getting reports from the west about a small band of Indians. That’s why I’d feel better if you were in town. He kills women and children without any thought.” Chance’s jaw tightened at the memory of his mother lying facedown, slaughtered like a farm animal.

“I’m not going back,” Anna answered. “If you go to fight, I fight with you.”

Chance kicked his bay into action and was proud to see Anna stay only a half a length behind him as they crossed the open country and rode north. He had one hell of a strong woman with him, and the knowledge that she’d come willingly to him during the night filled him with pride. If her strength equaled her stubbornness and passion, any Indian who crossed her was in for a fight.

Determined, he pushed hard all morning, not allowing Anna or his bruised ribs to slow the pace. As the sun grew warm, they stopped beside a stream to rest the horses.

Anna slipped to the ground before he could help her. She walked beside him to the water’s edge. “You’re still angry about my coming.”

Chance knelt and trailed his canteen through the water. “I just wish you’d put something ahead of your land.”

“Like what?”

“Like your life, or Cherish, or my peace of mind.”

Accepting the drink he offered, she answered, “I have no life without my land and neither does Cherish. As for your peace of mind, that is something I can’t control.”

Chance started to say something, then stood suddenly, listening to the breeze.

“What is it?” Anna stood beside him.

“Nothing,” he whispered. “Just a feeling I have. We’d best ride.”

They crossed the land in half the time it had taken them to travel to town. Anna wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but there was nothing amiss at the farm. They circled by Carl’s farm and found him hard at work on his cabin.

Chance and Anna agreed to stay the night with Carl, using the excuse that Chance could help Carl put up the frame of the second room of the cabin. Carl might not be a fighter, but he would be offended to think they were there to protect him.