Rose (29 page)

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to announce that to your brothers? Monty would love to know. So would Tyler.”

“Of course I don’t.”

“That’s exactly how Zac feels. He has finally done something wonderful in his own eyes. He needs that if he’s ever to grow up and think himself your equal.”

George turned so he could face Rose.

“I don’t know why I ever thought I could manage this family without you.”

Rose turned pink with pleasure. “You’d have managed somehow.”

“No. I’ve finally accepted the fact that I can’t do all I once thought I could.”

“You’re not thinking of leaving, are you?” Rose asked, her eyes searching his, fear somersaulting through her stomach.

George moved closer. Putting his arm around Rose, he drew her close.

“I’m not thinking about leaving anybody, anything, or anywhere. Especially you. I’m just learning to accept the fact that I need help. I’m also finding out I’m terribly happy you’re here to give it.”

Rose snuggled a little closer. “Anyone could do what I’ve done.” She believed what she said, but she fervently hoped he would deny it.

“Not without loving each of my brothers as much as I do. I realized that when I was racing here, cursing myself for being so stupid, hoping I wasn’t too late. I knew that somehow you’d keep the boys safe.”

Rose couldn’t think of anything to say, so she squeezed her husband a little harder.

“I realized something else during that nerve-racking race through the rain and mud. You know, you can rack your brain over something until you’re so confused you don’t know what you think. Then along comes a crisis, and everything is perfectly clear.”

“That happens to everybody.”

“I’ve been wrestling with my feelings for you and getting nowhere at all. I no sooner thought of those bastards riding up on you while you were asleep than I had no indecision at all. I was just as afraid for you as I was for the boys. I know I’ll have to let go of them someday, but I could never let go of you. Even if I didn’t need you as much as I do, I wouldn’t want to give you up.”

“A woman likes to feel important to her husband,” Rose said, snuggling down even closer.

George sat up and pulled away so he could face Rose. “You don’t understand what I’m saying. I love you. I finally discovered what it is, and I love you. I have for some time now, only I didn’t know it.”

She wanted to believe him. She wanted it more than anything else in the world, but she had to be sure.

“Are you sure? It’s easy for a person’s emotions to become exaggerated during a crisis.”

George gripped her by the arms and drew her to him.

“I love you, Rose Thornton Randolph. I love you so much I feel like I’ll explode if I try to keep it inside me. I love you because you love us so much. I love you because you’re beautiful, because I want to make love to you for the rest of my life. I even love you because you’re crazy enough to attack the McClendons for shooting a bull they didn’t shoot.” He put his fingers over Rose’s lips to still her protest.

“But there’s something different about it now. It’s little things. When our eyes meet at a distance and you smile—you can’t know what a lift that gives me. It makes me want to do something foolish. When you catch your skirt on a splinter or prick your finger on a dried bean hull and you come out with one of the words you’ve learned from Monty. I even like the way you wipe the perspiration from your forehead when you’re standing over the stove. Isn’t that crazy?”

Rose wondered if a person could die from too much happiness. If so, she had about five minutes left. Surely George
wouldn’t talk so foolishly unless he really meant it. It was hard to give in, to allow herself to be vulnerable again, but it was even harder to hold back from something she had wished for so ardently for these last months.

“No crazier than me liking the way you seem to stand a little taller whenever you look out at your land. I’m particularly fond of you when you’re forced to drink coffee. You look like you’d rather drink from a mudhole.”

George tickled Rose until tears ran down her face. Then he put his arms around her and kissed her enthusiastically. “Anybody listening to us would think we’re crazy.”

“No, just in love.”

“Do other grown people act like this? Do they feel like they’re fourteen all over again?”

“I don’t know about anybody else, but I like the way I feel. I hope I go on feeling this way for the rest of my life.”

“And you still don’t mind not having children?”

Rose wished George hadn’t asked that question just now. It was the only thing about her life that made her sad. She would have preferred to enjoy his declaration without remembering that it came with a price. But there was no point in avoiding it.

“Yes, I mind. It was very lonely being an only child. Living with the Robinsons helped, but I always wanted brothers and sisters of my own. As I got older it changed to wanting children. Now I don’t know whether I want them more for myself or for you.”

“For me? Why?”

“I’ve tried to tell you what a wonderful man you are. It’s not just me. Your brothers and all the men who work for you agree. I can’t think of anything more exciting than watching your sons grow up wanting to be like you, watching your daughters hope to find a man only half as good as you.”

George shuddered. “Just trying to bring up Zac and Tyler scares me to death.”

“You don’t have to get defensive. I won’t try to talk you into changing your mind, but I
will
try to convince you you’d make a good father.”

“What for?”

“Because you deserve to think well of yourself. I don’t know what your father did or why you think you’re going to repeat all his mistakes, but you deserve to be able to look at yourself with pride.”

George was shocked to find himself swallowing hard. Worse, he had this odd watering in his eyes. For one terrifying moment he was afraid he might actually lose control of his emotions. He had learned to accept a lot since he’d met Rose, but this was too much.

He held Rose a little closer. “I don’t know why it took me so long to realize I loved you. It gives me cold chills every time I realize how close I came to losing you. For such a wonderful person, I’m remarkably dense.”

Rose twisted around until she could kiss him on the nose. “Well, you finally figured it out. That’s all that counts.”

George dropped his head until his lips caressed the top of Rose’s breast.

“You sure you’re happy?”

“Deliriously,” Rose answered, twisting around so he could reach her more easily. “You?”

“Completely.”

The two of them surrendered to the desire which was washing over them like storm-tossed waves. Soon they were conscious only of each other.

In the days that followed, Hen didn’t smile again. He insisted they bury Alex Pendleton next to their mother. He said Alex had never had a mother he could remember. Now he would, and Mrs. Randolph would have someone to look after.

Hen refused to say anything about what he had done that night beyond that he’d brought in a milk cow he’d found “wandering lost on our land.”

Less than a week later they found out.

The brothers rode home from the range to find an army lieutenant and a detachment of six men camped in the yard. Old man McClendon and two of his clan were there as well.

“Let me do the talking,” George warned his brothers.

“Why?” Monty demanded.

“Because I never know what you’re going to say.”

“You’re not the only one with any brains around here. I can—”

“Keep your mouth shut,” Hen growled. The unexpected sharpness of his twin’s order stunned Monty into silence. At least for the moment.

“Are you George Randolph?” the lieutenant asked.

“Yes,” George answered as he dismounted. His gaze cut to where Rose had emerged from the house, Zac at her side. The boy broke for George.

“They say you killed somebody,” Zac said, clinging to George for assurance. “I told them you didn’t, but they wouldn’t believe me. They wouldn’t believe Rose, neither.”

George knelt down to give Zac a reassuring hug. “Either,” he corrected, taking the boy’s hand in his as he stood up and turned to the officer. “What’s this about somebody being killed?”

“I’m Lieutenant Crabb,” the young man said. “Mr. McClen-don here says one of you killed two of his kin. The others swear to it.”

“What do you mean by
one of you?
” George asked.

“You, or one of your brothers, or one of the men who works for you,” the old man shouted.

“You might as well include the rest of the county,” George answered quietly. “I have six brothers counting this little rascal here. At the moment, I’ve got fifteen men working for me.”

“He’s come to arrest you for murder,” one of the younger McClendons shouted.

“You can’t arrest me because
somebody
killed one of your kin,” George said.

“Texas is under Reconstruction,” the lieutenant said. “Certain laws have been suspended.”

“Which ones?” George asked, his gaze pinning the lieutenant down. “The ones which protect honest citizens from murderous attacks in the middle of the night? The ones which protect women and children from being murdered in their beds? Or just the ones which are supposed to protect honest citizens from charges leveled by men in the Reconstruction office?”

“What are you talking about?” the lieutenant asked.

“I’m saying that this old man and his clan stampeded through the middle of our camp six nights ago and murdered one of my hands. And I’m not saying
someone
did it. I’m accusing him,” George said, pointing straight at old man McClendon. “And every man here will swear to it, won’t you, boys?”

They nodded their assent.

The lieutenant turned to McClendon, but the old man’s eyes gave nothing away.

“And I’ll swear he attacked this house right after that,” Rose said, stepping forward. “I wounded him in the left shoulder. Make him take off his shirt if you don’t believe me.”

“He says he got that wound when your men attacked his
family. He says your men wounded more than half a dozen of them.”

“You can see the bullets embedded in the logs,” Rose said, pointing to the easily seen scars on the house. “You can tell from the color of the splinters they’re fresh.”

The lieutenant looked undecided.

“I can show you our camp if you like,” George volunteered. “We’ve cleaned it up, but you can still tell what happened. I can also show you young Alex’s grave. It’s under that large oak.” He pointed.

Even at a distance, the mound of fresh earth was visible.

“But why should they have attacked you?” the lieutenant asked.

“They’ve been living off our beef for years,” Monty burst out, unable to contain himself any longer. “We’re rounding them up to sell. Now they’ll have to go to work or starve.”

“That’s a lie,” old man McClendon shouted. “Not one of my kin has ever killed a beef of yours.”

“You own no cows, so how do you explain the beef on your table?”

“We buy our beef,” the old man said. “Every one of us will swear to it.”

“If you do, you’ll be lying.” Hen’s voice was low, but it vibrated with such rage he drew every eye. “I can prove you’ve been stealing our beef.”

“That’s a very serious accusation,” the lieutenant warned.

“As serious as murder?” George asked.

“Can you show me your proof?”

“Not until the rest of our men arrive. Once we get in the middle of that clan, I don’t trust them not to murder us all.”

“This is the United States Army,” the lieutenant said proudly. “No one would touch us.”

“You’re either a fool or you haven’t been in Texas very long,” Monty snapped.

The ride to the McClendon homesteads was long and
uncomfortable. George had left Salty and Silas at the house with Rose and Zac. The rest of them rode together in a tight bunch. Hen led the way, but George made sure that he and Monty rode between the McClendons and Hen.

The McClendons rode pretty easy in the saddle at first, but as they got closer to their land, George noted they seemed to be getting a little uneasy. When Hen turned east at a blasted oak, they grew visibly nervous. When Hen headed toward a grove of pecans lining a broad shallow in the creek, the McClendons disappeared into the nearest thicket. The lieutenant and his men just sat there with their mouths open as they listened to the sound of the McClendons crashing through the brush. When the sounds had faded away, Hen led them into the creek.

“Dig there,” Hen said, dismounting on a sandbar in the middle of the creek.

Less than a foot below the surface their shovels bit into leather. More than a dozen hides, all of them with the brand clearly readable.

“They were so sure of themselves they didn’t even bother to cut off the brands or burn the hides,” Monty marveled.

“They’ve been doing this since before we got here,” Hen said, “and nobody’s stopped them. They sure didn’t expect anybody to stop them now that they’re hooked up with the Reconstruction.”

“The Reconstruction isn’t here to cheat the local ranchers,” the lieutenant said, his discomfiture making him defensive.

“Now I know you haven’t been in Texas long,” Monty said. “You should have been here a month ago.”

“Why do you say that?” the lieutenant demanded.

“Ask at the land office when you get back to Austin,” George said. “What do you mean to do about the McClendons?”

“Can you swear it was the old man who killed that boy?”

“None of us can say who did it,” George admitted. “They surprised us, came up on a black night. We didn’t find Alex until after they’d gone.”

“I don’t see how I can arrest anybody on that.”

“But you were going to arrest me on no more.”

“I have an order for your arrest. I don’t have one for him.”

He showed George the order.

“My wife is the goddaughter of General Ulysses S. Grant,” George told the lieutenant, still staring at the order, his temper rising faster than a Roman rocket on the Fourth of July. “We can easily prove it if you like. I don’t think he’d be pleased to know you arrested her husband on a charge trumped up by proven cattle rustlers”—he pointed to the hides—“especially since you say you can’t arrest those same cow thieves even though they tried to kill his goddaughter and her family. You’ve got a dozen witnesses who’ll swear to it. Some of us may be ex-Confederates, but we’re honorable men.”

“He’s sending George a pardon,” Monty announced. “With that he’ll be just as good as any carpetbagger. Wouldn’t be surprised if it’s not in Austin already.”

“A pardon?” the lieutenant asked.

“A presidential pardon, courtesy of General Grant himself,” Monty explained. “You don’t expect a man like the General to enjoy having his goddaughter’s husband living under a cloud, do you?”

“We can prove that, too,” George added.

“General Sheridan is supposed to be dropping in on us any day now to see how she’s doing. Maybe you’d like to stay around and say hello to him. I hear he’s a mighty powerful man. Knowing him could make a world of difference in your career.”

“I thought you hated Yankees,” George said to Monty after the lieutenant and his men had headed back to Austin. “I never thought you’d hide behind one.”

“I’m not hiding, but I don’t see any sense in not using what’s right in front of us. There’s going to be more trouble with the McClendons. They won’t let it lie. We don’t need the army on our backs as well.”

“You think they’ll try again?”

“They never did a day’s work I know of. They’re not going to sit back and let us take the food out of their mouths.”

Rose didn’t feel comfortable with Silas. She didn’t have a reason for it, and that made her feel a little guilty. He seemed to be watching her. He was supposed to. That’s why George had left him at the house, but he wasn’t watching her like Ben or Ted or either of the new men George had taken on since the McClendon raid.

He watched her furtively. No, that wasn’t it. He did it openly. It was like he was waiting for her to do something. Only she had no idea what.

“Not much to do around here,” he said.

“Not much for you,” Rose replied. He had watched her being rushed off her feet all morning. Offering a helping hand wasn’t Silas Pickett’s idea of how to treat a woman. He sat at his ease close to the door so he could keep a watch for anyone coming into the yard, his chair leaned back against the door jamb, his feet on the bottom rung. She had a momentary hope the chair would slide out from under him, then felt guilty for harboring such an uncharitable thought.

“I’m surprised George makes you work at all. Most men with a lot of gold stashed away would take their wife and head for Austin, or maybe New Orleans, and take it easy. Not live in this godforsaken briar patch and break his back for a pack of crazy wild cows.”

Rose was preparing the second of two wild pigs for roasting. Monty was taking out his anger at the McClendons on the local wildlife. In the last week they had dined on deer, antelope, turkey, pig, and rabbit. If there hadn’t been so many men to feed each day, most of the meat would have gone to waste.

“Neither one of us likes living in town,” Rose told him.

“What’s the point of saving all that money for your children? Seems like his brothers don’t want it either.”

“I don’t know what your idea of money is, but I don’t consider a few gold pieces anything to get excited over. The way my supplies are disappearing, that won’t last us more than a few more months.”

“I don’t mean a handful of gold. I mean boxes of it. Thousands upon thousands of coins.”

“You must have a very active imagination to think George would have any way of getting that kind of money. They lost everything in the war.”

“I guess he hasn’t told you, then.”

“Hasn’t told me what?”

Rose didn’t like the way Silas was looking at her. It wasn’t very friendly. In fact, it was downright antagonistic.

“Men usually tell their wives. They won’t tell another man, but they need to tell someone. It’s no good if nobody knows. Of course, maybe he doesn’t want his brothers to know. Wants it all for himself.”

“I think you’ve been out in the sun too long. Your wits are addled.”

“Of course, he could be waiting. It wouldn’t be advisable to turn up rolling in riches all at once. A much better idea to seem to have gotten it from a cattle ranch. Rather clever man, your husband.”

“I think George is remarkably clever,” Rose said, “but I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about. Now unless you mean to help me with this meat, I wish you’d go find Zac. That boy can vanish faster than an icicle in a hot stove.”

“I’ll get him in a minute. I don’t want him just yet.”

Something in his voice warned Rose that things had changed, that the situation could become dangerous.

“What do you want?” She made sure she had a firm grip on the knife she had been using. It was sharp enough to cut through sinew, gristle, or small bones.

“I want to know what your husband has done with all that gold.”

“What is this fixation you have with gold? Is it because of the gold they spent in Austin? It wasn’t much, and it’s almost gone.”

“I’m talking about a half million dollars in gold.”

Now Rose was certain Silas was deranged. “It’s common knowledge his family left Virginia destitute. His friends had to buy this place for them.”

“Captain Randolph led a raiding party on a Union Army wagon train carrying a payroll of over half a million in gold. In the confusion, the wagon carrying the gold disappeared. They never found it.”

“What makes you think George’s father had anything to do with it? Presumably there were other men in his patrol.”

“That wagon train was near his home when it was ambushed. Nobody in that train would know the surrounding countryside like Captain Randolph.”

“Assuming there was a payroll and that George’s father took it, it couldn’t have anything to do with George or Jeff. Neither of them saw their father after they enlisted.”

“He could have sent them a letter.”

“So he could, but the letter could have gotten lost. The treasure could have gotten lost, or the wagon could have gotten lost. This whole thing could be your distorted imagination. I don’t know who told you this fairy tale about George having gold, or knowing where it is, but he’s wrong. Knowing George, if he did know where the gold was hidden, he’d return it.”

“He’s not such a fool,” Silas said, laughing.

“Not everyone prizes gold above honor.”

“Half a million?”

“Half a million, especially a half million we neither have nor know anything about.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Obviously, or you wouldn’t still be going on about it. Look around. Does this look like the home of a rich man?”

“He could have it hidden.”

“George and his brother walked from Virginia driving that bull before them. Now, if you know how they could have managed to transport five hundred thousand dollars worth of gold without anybody knowing, you know a lot more than I do.”