Love Inspired Historical June 2014 Bundle: Lone Star Heiress\The Lawman's Oklahoma Sweetheart\The Gentleman's Bride Search\Family on the Range (42 page)

“I said hurry up there!” Wellington's tone was becoming an all-too-close copy of McGraw's nasty commands. Katrine began to worry she'd pushed too hard, angering the private instead of getting on whatever good side he might still have left under all that greed.

As they worked their way back up to the shack, Katrine's eyes cast about the clearing. No clue of their location came to her. She could now guess they'd ridden east, but that was all. East by the river. It was something, but useless if she could not find a way to get the information to Clint or Lars.

Back inside the shack, Evelyn was gathering discarded strips of bloody bandages to toss into the small fire. McGraw's pant leg had been cut away, showing angry red skin covered in new bandages. Katrine poured some of the water from her bucket into a bowl so that Evelyn could wash her hands.

“I left my ribbon by the riverbank,” she whispered as she handed Evelyn the cake of soap. “Lars might recognize it. He tracks well.”

“We rode for hours,” Evelyn sighed. “Heaven knows where we are.” She stopped and held one hand to her waist, closing her eyes. “Heaven
does
know where we are. I need to remember that.” She shook her head. “Poor Walt. He must know by now that I'm missing. My poor boy.”

“I'm sure Gideon has given him as much reassurance as he can. And all of them are out looking for us. They must be.”

“Unlessen you want your gags back on those pretty little mouths, you'd best shut them now,” McGraw called from his chair in the corner. “Jesse, tie them back up.”

“No, please,” Katrine pleaded, her wrists still raw from their last binding.

“You needn't do that,” Evelyn added, backing away.

Jesse sneered at Katrine, then looked back to McGraw. “Why do we have them with us anyways? They're bothersome.”

“We need 'em. They're leverage.”

“I'm tired of looking at 'em, and them staring at me. Let's just leave 'em and get out of here.”

“No!” McGraw growled, rising out of his chair.

“Well, I'm lockin' them up in the next room.” Jesse pointed to the small shed attached to the cabin through a makeshift doorway. “At least I won't have to look at 'em, that way.”

“You want them waltzing away on us?” McGraw called back.

“Where would we go?” Evelyn flung her hand wide. “We have no idea which way town is and you have our only food.”

“This room here has a lock and no windows. A bar over the door and they're as good as tied up.” He eyed Katrine. “I need me some shut-eye. We been up all night.”

The shed didn't look too comfortable, but Katrine prayed McGraw would concede. Anything was better than being in his company.

McGraw flicked his hand in the direction of the shed. “Well, go on then, lock 'em up.”

Chapter Nineteen

E
velyn dusted off her skirt and pushed her hair back off her forehead. “It's filthy, but it's a far sight better than being in there with them.”

Katrine was grateful that the privacy of the shed allowed her to undo her collar buttons and roll up her shirtsleeves. “I wish we had asked for water. It is hot in here.” She leaned against the wall. To be in a small, hot room with no windows made her pulse pound from memories of the fire.

Evelyn caught her reaction. “Are you all right? You seem ill.”

She was sweating and short of breath, but it wasn't from illness. “It feels...” she groped for the words, English always failing her for such emotional subjects “...too much like the fire.”

“Such an awful thing.” She looked back toward where the men were. “To know he did that to you. To think we all trusted them to be the law and order here.”

“I am glad we have Clint as our law and order.”

Evelyn's eyes warmed. “He is a good man. He saved you.”

Katrine's mind cast back to the moment where her flailing hands found the strength of his. “Yes,” she said quietly, the memory still able to overcome her at a moment's notice. “I am safe because of him.”

“Only we're not safe. Not yet, at least.” Evelyn worried her hands in her skirts. “They could choose to kill us at any moment.” She looked at Katrine. “I've never seen anyone shot in cold blood like that, have you?”

Poor Evelyn, she had no idea the terrible weight of the question she had just asked. Katrine felt her answer claw its way up and out of her chest. “I have,” she nearly whispered. “Once.” She didn't think she possessed the energy to hold up any deception in this close, stifled place. It wasn't the whole of the story anyhow. “I was younger. It was terrible.” Even those facts felt a step too far, although some small part of her was amazed that she had admitted even that much and not fallen to pieces. Katrine rushed to change the subject. “Think of Walt. He is safe from all of this, and Gideon is so fond of him. And now he has two more uncles to dote on him.”

“I've spent so many years hearing of the evils of the Thornton family. It seems a terrible waste, doesn't it? Clint's warnings undoubtedly fell on deaf ears. My brothers weren't likely to believe such tales from a Thornton.” She put her hand to her forehead. “But if Clint and Lars were able to get through and warn them...”

“Yes,” Katrine encouraged. “We must hope.”

“
Thou art my hope in the day of evil
. It's from Jeremiah, I think.”

“This is a day of evil, to be sure. Those are terrible men. But I do not think they mean to kill us now, or they would have done so. We are—what is the word?—hostages.”

“Yes, hostages.” Evelyn sat down on the blanket, the shed wall groaning as she leaned her back against it.

Katrine thought about the drafty corner, wondering if she would be forced to kick her way out of this tomb, as well.
Come quickly, Clint. Save me again
. She sat down beside Evelyn. “We shall choose to hope, yes? Hope in Clint and Lars and Gideon, and all your brothers?”

“They are strong, smart men, but God holds our futures more than they, don't you think?”

Katrine let her head fall back against the wall, watching the dust float lazily through the air as though it hadn't a care in the world. “Such trust is not easy for me.”

“I've seen you in service. I've heard Lars talking to Winona about faith. Surely you believe in God's sovereignty?”

Katrine felt her sigh come up through her every bone. “I believe the world is a broken place that needs God's mercy very much.”

Evelyn pulled back to look at her. “But you speak as if all that mercy is for someone else. Now I am sure Clint is sweet on you—you sound just like him.”

Katrine's mouth fell open to hear such an assurance. “Truly?”

Evelyn managed the only smile Katrine had seen from her all day. “Now that I look back, it is easy to see. And when I think of it, I believe Gideon knows, as well. He said something about Clint softening up to a certain kind of sunshine the other day, and I didn't catch his meaning. Now I do.” She rested a hand on Katrine's wrist. “You suit each other well, I think.”

“He is older,” Katrine offered.

Evelyn furrowed her brow. “I don't see how that matters, especially out here.”

“He is so serious.” Katrine had a dozen reasons why they might never be happy.

“Maybe he wasn't always. Maybe you and your stories will be good for him.”

“I do not think he wants a great big family like I do.”

Evelyn's amused face darkened completely at this fact. Katrine was glad—some part of her knew she could keep listing small reasons, but the big reason of her past would come out if she kept going. “He does.” Her tone was very strange.

“He wants a large family?” Katrine had never seen anything to make her think this. She'd seen him go out of his way to avoid children. And yet, he was patient and tender with Walt and Dakota. Clint could be so kind if he thought no one was looking.

“I think Clint would like very much to have the big, full family he never had.” Evelyn's face became very peculiar when she added, “But wanting is not the same thing as having.”

“He has never married, yes?”

Evelyn tightened her hand around Katrine's wrist. “Katrine, I'm not so sure this is mine to tell, but maybe God's made it so you can know. I think Clint has a heart big enough for an enormous family, but he...can't.”

“Can't?”

“Clint had the fever when they were children in Pennsylvania. He was off helping some poor family down the street and they took sick. Clint brought that sickness home to the rest of the boys but he got it much worse than Gideon and Elijah. Nearly died, to hear Gideon tell it. And, well...it's an awful story, really. Clint cannot be a father. Worse yet, their cousin Obadiah used it against Clint. Told him it was a curse, that he'd been denied the chance to be a father because he'd brought illness home to the family. Can you imagine? It's tragic enough already, but to make a young boy think he'd brought such a thing upon himself?”

“Clint cannot have a family.” Though she repeated the statement, she couldn't make the thought seem real. In her weakest moments, she'd allowed herself to daydream about the big, noisy family they could have together. Brown-eyed boys boasting
My pa's the sherriff!
in the schoolyard. A doting Clint standing wildly overprotective over little girls in braids. She hadn't even realized until just this moment how clear the whole dream had become in her heart. Without consciously deciding it, she'd dreamed up a version of the life he'd saved—her life—lived beside him even though she never had reason to think he'd want that life with someone like her. Too many truths—whether secret or not—stood in the way of that dream. How could it be that while she knew that fantasy was never possible, it now seemed twice as impossible? How could it hurt so deeply? It stunned Katrine that she could grieve so fiercely for something she could never truly have had in the first place.

“You didn't know, did you?” Evelyn said the obvious with such tenderness.

Katrine had no words. She only shook her head and slumped against the wall.

“Seems a sorrowful waste, don't you think? He'd make a fine father. He, Gideon, Elijah—they've all become fine men despite the difficult lives they've had. God's grace can heal all, and all of their lives show it, even if my bull-headed brothers can't quite get their heads around the idea.” She sighed. “Maybe all that nonsense is done with after today. Maybe God's got better things in store.”

She went on, filling the empty time and worry with words, but Katrine didn't hear most of them. She turned her face away, wanting to hide her pain from Evelyn. Winona's words last night—had it really just been last night?—had cracked open her hope, let out the dream that somehow Clint might see beyond her past. Now it hurt terribly to know should that obstacle be surmounted, it couldn't all end happily. No family? After all that waiting and hoping and dreaming? Having gone so long without a mother, knowing all the pain that had brought her, Katrine's dearest hopes centered around loving children of her own. Now she loved a man who could not share that dream. It felt so cruel and pointless.
Why would God send my heart to him?

“There has to be a reason,” Evelyn consoled.

Katrine hadn't even realized she'd spoken the question aloud. “I cannot see any reason at all.”

* * *

It was the night of the fire all over again. Every minute that passed seemed to place Katrine in more danger. Clint knew McGraw had no honor, no code, and that made him unpredictable and lethal. Worse yet, now that he was exposed, he had nothing left to lose, which made him dangerous and desperate. Clint was grateful Brett, Reid and Gideon had little need for talk as they rode. He'd spent the ride down toward the river trying to get into the head of a man like McGraw, to second-guess his tactics and whatever it was he thought he could now get.

It didn't work. Instead, his brain clouded with thoughts of Katrine in pain, Katrine fighting back fear. McGraw hadn't been subtle in his amusement with her, and she of all people knew how low that lout was capable of stooping. He hated that she would be fully aware of the threats against her. She was smart that way, reading people and their intentions. It was one of the things he liked most about her, and it killed him that it would now be what made her wait for his rescue all the more terrifying.

She was waiting for his rescue. That was the only way he could think about today. Today would be the day he saved her again. The alternative was too awful to swallow.

A smudge in the riverbank caught his eye. A hoof-print in the dirt just beyond that rock. Fresh, from the looks of it, still wet in the deepest parts. “There!” Clint pulled his horse up short and pointed to a place where the grass on the bank looked disturbed. “Look there!”

Gideon knew horses like no one else in Brave Rock. He swung down off his saddle and looked at the track. “McGraw rides a Morgan, don't he?” Gideon shook his head, his hands fisted in frustration. “It's deep enough for a horse carrying extra weight, but it's too small for that horse.”

“They switched horses for the raid. He might not be on his horse.” Clint scanned the scene before him for any detail, any clue that they were close to McGraw's hideout and the women.

“Looks enough like one of ours,” Reid said, crouching down over the track. “There's another, and it's headed in the right direction.”

Come on, Katrine, kick on a log. Send me something. Lead me to you
. Clint felt the desperate ache like heat spreading out from a lamp. Could that connection, that pull he'd felt between them since the fire, extend far enough to let her feel him finding her? Let him sense her near? His mind went to the surprisingly natural extension of that thought.
Lead me to her, Lord. You see us both. You see us all. You can't want McGraw to win this. I can't believe You saved her only to have it end this way.

The thought startled him.
You saved her. Not me. I was there, but it was Your doing. I am the law in Brave Rock, but our lives are Yours.
He'd taken the whole thing on his shoulders, nearly buckling under the strain of keeping lives safe against an endless stream of threats. The shift from
I have to find her
to
Lead me to her
held power. So much power. This had to be the power of prayer Lije was always going on about, that thing Clint believed in once, when he was young and hadn't yet seen all the pain the world could dish out. He felt his desperation settle into a quiet, tingly focus.

“What is it?” Brett pulled up alongside Clint.

“Huh?”

“You started going faster. What do you see?”

Clint didn't quite know how to answer that. “I got a hunch.”

“A hunch?” Brett didn't seem to find that particularly comforting. “A
hunch?
”

Gideon came up beside the two of them, catching Brett's arm. “This is what he does. Let him do it.”

Brett wasn't satisfied. “I'm not leaving Evelyn to some hunch in—”

“Evelyn's
my wife
. I want her back as much as you.”

They rode on in tense silence. Clint could feel Brett's and Reid's frustration prickling behind him, feel Gideon's trust stretching thin as fear wore down everyone's resolve. It wasn't supposed to take this long to find them, and that was nothing but bad news.
Send me. Guide me. Keep him away from her. Help me
. Blurts of desperate prayers seemed to leak out of Clint with every passing minute.

“I hate feeling this helpless,” Gideon ground out through his teeth, and Clint could sympathize. The only thing keeping him from boiling over himself was the chance that if they weren't on the right track, Lije and Lars were.

“Over there!” Brett pointed to a bush by a spot where the riverbank had clearly been disturbed. “Is that anything?”

A sky-blue ribbon fluttered in the hot wind. With a surge of relief Clint noticed that the ribbon had been wound around a branch, not just tangled. Someone had put it there. Evelyn wore her hair up but Katrine always wore her hair in a thick braid down her back—tied with a colored ribbon. It was the reason Sam McGraw had tried to buy her some ribbon at Fairhaven's back in town. He scanned the scene for some other clue, audibly gasping when he saw three small rocks piled up on each other. Lars's trail mark. They were here. Bless her, she'd found a way to kick a log free. He reached down and pulled the ribbon loose, thankful to be touching some part of that extraordinary woman and to know she was still alive.

“It's Katrine's,” he called through the surge of admiration and affection that gripped his throat tight. “They're here and they're alive.”