River Song (34 page)

Sean had to swallow a chuckle at her final words as he backed down the ladder and realized she had offered the same blessing Patrick had bestowed on him as he had left Yuma. That had only been a few weeks ago, and yet it somehow seemed much longer, years longer, at times. How many more days, or weeks, before the Callahan family was finally united again, finally able to grieve together over the loss of their loved ones?

When Sean reached the main part of the barn, he flattened himself against the wall and listened. All was quiet. With the exception of a few inviting aromas lingering from the roast pig and beef, most signs of the party had been removed. Making his way to the doors, he pushed them open a crack and peered out. He must leave the ranch undetected, without suspicion. The longer his disappearance went unnoticed, the longer it would be before anyone thought to connect it to Eileen's departure from her father's home.

From his vantage point, he could see the last of the guests had pulled out of the yard, and could hear the rumble of wagon wheels creaking down the path in the opposite direction he was headed. Looking up toward the house, he noticed most of the lights were blazing as the occupants prepared for their well-deserved rest. Satisfied the grounds were
deserted,
Sean slipped out of the barn and took full advantage of his Quechan blood to help him move silently out to the pasture where Whiskey stood grazing in the darkness.

After saddling the mule and fastening his belongings with a length of rawhide, Sean quietly led the animal out of the corral and through a wind-break of
palo
verde
trees. Once hidden behind this stand of trees, he mounted Whiskey and rode to the north.

He arrived at the creek near the Hobbs ranch less than two hours later. After tying the mule, then resting by the water for an additional forty-five minutes, Sean grew impatient and worried. He crept panther-like through the cactus and shrubs until he came to the base of a thick, gnarled willow tree. Hidden from the home's occupants,

Sean was able to squat down and observe the house, and hopefully Eileen's expected departure from it.

Only one small light flickered in the window, suggesting that most of the family had retired for the night. Who was still up, and why?

The answer to that question exploded through the front door a few minutes later with a scream that shattered spring's promise of tranquility. The figure was Eileen, and she ran on a reckless path toward the willow tree.

Sean tucked his long body into a crouch and braced himself to spring to her aid. He lunged, one hand sliding across her mouth and the other around her waist as she raced blindly past him.

"Eileen, be quiet, it's Sean," he urged in a frantic whisper as he gathered her close. When her struggles ceased, he pulled her around behind the tree and pushed her to the ground.

"Easy, honey. It's all right," he comforted as he slowly lifted his hand from her trembling lips. "You're safe now."

"Oh," she muttered into his chest, "thank God you were here. I don't think I could have made it to the creek."

"Hush now. Don't think about what's happened. We have to get out of here before they come after you." Sean's thoughts snagged in his throat when he realized his hand was wet and sticky with her blood. "You're hurt. Where are you bleeding?"

"It's all right." Eileen brought her fingers to her swollen lip and pressed them against the torn flesh. "Pa didn't think I tried hard enough to get Cole's attention at the party. He said I was worthless and probably already spoilt, too. When he came after me, asking shameful questions and pounding me with his fists, I just couldn't take no more. After he popped me one in the mouth, I busted his head with Ma's frying pan. Oh, Sean," Eileen said in a soft whimper, "what if I killed him?"

"Hush, hush," he crooned, swallowing his anger for now. "I'll never let them find you. Don't worry, honey. Don't worry." Sean began to rock her, but tensed and froze his movements as he caught sight of a shadowy figure creeping through the trees. He was just about to release her and caution her to stay down, when the figure called out Eileen's name in a soft, feminine voice.

"Eileen, baby, where are you?"

"That's Ma," Eileen whispered against his ear. Her mother called again, this time with a note of panic in her voice. "I got to answer her, Sean. She won't tell on me."

But he wasn't so sure. "What if what you said is true and your pa is dead?"

"Who would she tell it to out here?"

Shrugging, Sean reluctantly gestured for her to go ahead.

When her mother had moved close enough for Eileen to be certain she was alone, she whispered, "Ma. Over here."

"Baby?
Is that you? Where are
ya
?"

"Quiet, Ma. I'm over here."

Martha took a few more steps, ducked under a tree limb, and nearly stumbled over her.

"Quick, sit down, Ma."

Hidden from view by the base of the huge tree, but only inches from Eileen, Sean listened as she questioned her mother.

"How's Pa? Is he hurt
bad
? I didn't kill him, did I?"

"No, child, he ain't dead, but when he comes to, I bet he's gonna wish he was. You raised some kinda mountain on the side of his thick head."

"I'm
sorry,
Ma, but I just couldn't take it no more."

"I know, baby, I know. That's why I come out here. I think you'd best leave. No telling what he'll do when he wakes up and is feeling better. You'd best go."

Which is exactly what she planned to do, but why did the idea hurt so much coming from her own mother? "What have I done wrong, Ma?" Eileen cried in a strangled whisper.
"Why do I have to go?"

"Cause he's gonna be in a heap of misery when that head starts to thumping and cause when he's able, I believe he plans to find out if you been
ruint
by one a these farm boys." Her shoulders and spirits sagged as she added in a desperate sigh, "
Cause
I believe one day soon he figures on
liftin
' your skirts and
findin
' out for himself, baby."

"Ma?"
The word, the thought nearly strangled her. "How could he, how can he be so mean to me, his only girl?"

Martha's head drooped lower.

"Ma?
Please, tell me. Why does Pa hate me so?"

Her mother's head drooped lower still, but this time she muttered a barely audible answer. "Cause a something I should a told you a long time ago, baby. Something your Pa and I thought he could handle, but I was wrong.
He
was wrong."

"What?" Then louder, almost frantically, Eileen cried,
"What?"

"Honey."
Martha finally raised her head and cupped her daughter's distraught face between her hands. "
Dan'l
Hobbs ain't your pa."

Eileen's eyebrows sprang upward and disappeared beneath her wispy bangs as she blurted out,
"What?"

"I know it's a shock, but I thought it best you didn't know till now, and your pa—
Dan'l
," she corrected, "was so good to me, made an honorable woman of me you might say when he knew the trouble I was in, I went along with the secret."

A burst of nearly hysterical laughter obliterated the rest of Martha's sentence, and it took a minute before Eileen realized it came from her. She had the oddest sensations swirling inside her; relief, anger, happiness, surprise, and even joy. But where was the sadness, the sense of loss and humiliation she ought to have upon learning she was illegitimate?

"Eileen?
Honey?
Please don't be angry with me. I done the best I could to raise you, to keep you out of
Dan'l's
way and not let him get too upset with you."

Eileen's laughter subsided, and she looked into her mother's tired eyes. Seeing Martha as a woman for the first time in her life, she kept her voice soft and low, non-judgmental, and said, "It's all right, Ma. It explains a lot, makes me feel better about myself in a strange sort of way. I do have a question, though. Would you please tell me who my pa is?"

Again dropping her gaze to the ground, Martha lifted her bony shoulders and began to fidget with the hem of her dress as if she were a shy school girl. "He was a mighty fancy man," she finally said in a tiny, bashful voice. "Name was Scotty. He
come
from Tombstone."

"Just Scotty?"

Martha nodded. "I guess so. Never knew if that was his first or last name, or if he were called that because he
come
over from Scotland. Everyone just called him Scotty." She raised her hand and lifted a length of Eileen's hair. "His hair was even redder than yours, and his eyes were the color of the prettiest blue sky you'd ever want to see."

A lump swelled in Eileen's throat while she watched her mother's features soften and brighten as she drifted in a sea of memories. But time was short, so she cut into her thoughts. "What happened to him, Ma?"

"Huh?" Martha looked startled as reality dissolved her pleasure. "Oh, um, I don't know. He was a gambling man. Moved on to the next town, the next girl, I
s'pose
."

Although she hated to see pain intrude on her mother's pleasant thoughts, Eileen had to know one more thing before she could leave. "Did you tell him about me?"

Martha shook her head slowly.
"No, girl.
By the time I knew about you, he was already gone. But it was just as well," she added in a jovial tone. "Scotty weren't the
marryin
' kind, that's for sure. Tying him down would a kilt him for sure. I'm just glad I knew him and that he gave me you."

Eileen threw her arms around her mother's neck and kissed her. "I'm gonna miss you, Ma. I'm gonna miss you a lot."

"Me too," the older woman sobbed. "Me too, but you gotta get out of here.
The sooner, the better.
It's for your own good, baby."

"I know." Eileen sat back on her heels and dabbed at her nose. "I'm leaving tonight. Right now, in fact."

"But, honey. How can you manage?"

"I got a way and a guide. Don't worry about me. I'll wire you or something to let you know I'm all right. Maybe someday I can come back and see you again."

"Oh, baby," Martha wailed. "None
a this
is fair to you. You deserve so much more."

"And I'll find it, Ma. Don't worry."

Martha sniffed as she considered her daughter's words, then shrugged and slowly climbed to her feet. "You best be on your way, then. Who's
meetin
' you and where?"

"It'll be better for you if you don't know. That way Pa can't beat it out of you if he takes it in his head to chase me down."

"
Dan'l
ain't never laid a finger on me in anger, you know that, and I ain't about to let him start on me now. Your brothers wouldn't sit still for it, either." Pulling her daughter to her feet, Martha looked into her eyes, pleading, "I got to know, Eileen. Who's
helpin
' you?"

"I am." Sean stepped out of the shadows, prepared for an adverse reaction.

Martha jumped in surprise,
then
strained her eyes in the semi-darkness. "You give me quite a scare. You that half-breed what saved my girl's life in the flood?"

"Yes, Ma," Eileen provided. "It's Sean Callahan from Yuma."

Sean waited for the expected arguments and scolding from the older woman, but she surprised him.