Tall, Dark, and Texan (18 page)

A half hour passed before they both grew silent. She knew it was late; she should turn in, but she didn’t want their time together to end.

“Jess.” He finally broke the silence. “Would you mind if I lay my hand over where the baby grows?”

She couldn’t answer. It was too embarrassing . . . too personal. Closing her eyes, she remembered that this wasn’t some stranger. This was Teagen, the best and only friend she’d ever had.

She tugged his fingers from her waist and placed them over the small, rounded spot. Then she leaned back on his arm and lay very still.

For a while, his big hand didn’t move; then, slowly, he measured the place. “It’s not very big.”

“She’ll grow,” Jessie answered. “Emily was small inside of me. Most of my customers didn’t even know I was pregnant until the last few months.”

“She?”

“That’s all I seem to have.”

His hand was so gentle she wanted to cry. She knew he was touching the baby, but he was also touching her.

“I’d like to touch this place again before you leave and see if the child grows.”

“You can touch me anytime you like, Teagen. I don’t mind.” She sat up and kissed him lightly on the lips. “I have to go to bed. Tomorrow we have a busy day planned.”

He helped her up and walked her to the stairs without a word, but she noticed something in his eyes and realized their time together had meant as much to him as it had to her.

“Until tomorrow,” she whispered halfway up the stairs.

He didn’t answer, but when she looked back, he was staring up at her.

MIDMORNING THE NEXT DAY, JESSIE HEARD THREE shots echoing from the direction of the bridge. The quiet day shattered like the plate she dropped. Teagen told her that three rapidly fired shots were the warning for trouble. Her first thoughts were not of defense but of finding her girls.

She ran into the dining room and found them all playing under the table tent Martha had made from colorful quilts. They had tiny handkerchief dolls and were using the dinner napkins to make beds for their babies. Her daughters looked so happy, she hated to interrupt them.

Sage bolted past her, a rifle in each hand. Her eyes watched the windows as she spoke. “Until we know what’s happening, it’s best to take the girls to Martha. She always goes down to the root cellar. They’ll be safe there.”

Jessie didn’t have time to answer before Sage was gone. She collected her daughters and met Martha at the trapdoor in the corner of the kitchen. The housekeeper had thrown together a box of supplies: water, cookies, an extra lantern, and an old blanket.

“Don’t worry.” Martha sounded as if nothing were out of the ordinary. “Heading to the cellar is only a precaution. There always seems to be one kind of storm or another hitting this place.”

As Jessie lowered the girls down the narrow steps, they giggled, thinking they were having a grand adventure.

“I’m staying with Sage until we know something,” Jessie said more calmly than she felt. She knew she’d be little help to the McMurrays, but she couldn’t hide away if they were in danger.

Martha agreed as Jessie handed her the box. “I’ll watch over your babies. If trouble’s coming, I don’t much care to see it. We’ll be fine. Just open the trap when it’s over.”

Jessie hated closing the door in the floor, but she knew she could be no help if she were worried about the girls. She’d been down to the cellar. It was full of supplies. The perfect place to play hide-and-seek. The girls would love watching the spiders making their webs and drawing in the fine dust. The kitchen floor had been built over the cellar with thick logs, making the space below almost soundproof. No matter what happened above, the girls would hear nothing.

As if to add another layer of protection, Jessie tugged one of the kitchen rag rugs over the trapdoor; then she ran to the porch.

Sage waited, both guns by her side, as she looked toward the bridge. “The Apache are gone. Packed up so early this morning no one saw them leave.”

Jessie watched. The land looked empty near the bridge. She’d grown used to seeing them, even though the Apache never came near the house.

“There’s a buggy coming.” Sage shaded her eyes and added, “No, not a buggy, a carriage. A big one like I’ve seen in Austin. It looks like that old Ranger, Tattor Sims, is riding beside it.”

“Could it be your brother, Travis, back from Austin?”

“No. Sims wouldn’t have fired if it were family. He served with Travis and knew him well, so he wouldn’t take my brother for a stranger.”

Teagen swung over the railing at the side of the porch. The women had been so absorbed in watching the carriage they hadn’t noticed him ride up at the side of the house. He had his rifle in his hand. His face looked hard, unyielding.

Jessie saw nothing of the gentle man who’d kissed her only hours before. The memory of his kiss was so thick in her head she could almost feel his lips pressed against hers. She’d lain awake late into the night reliving every moment of their time in the study.

As he passed her, his fingers brushed her side, a slight touch no one else would see, but Jessie calmed inside and wished she were in his arms.

Dolan Hatch came from the barn armed for a fight. He didn’t say a word as he took up guard on the other side of the porch. There was a coldness in his stare. Whatever happened, good or bad, in the few minutes that followed didn’t matter. Dolan was just doing a job.

Trying hard to breathe slowly, Jessie looked around, realizing what a fort Whispering Mountain must be. The hills in the back made it impossible to be attacked from that direction. The house had been set far enough from the bridge to give them time to arm, yet not so far that they couldn’t see the dust of anyone riding in.

“Who is it?” she asked of no one in particular.

“I don’t know,” Sage answered, “but we’ve learned to welcome all uninvited guests fully armed. For years after our folks died we not only had to fight off raiders, we had to stand against fast-talking con men who thought they could talk us out of our land.”

“You were a baby then, Sage,” Teagen said without turning his eyes away from the carriage.

Sage made a face. “I know, but I remember some of it. I was four when you fired at one man who tried to force you to sign papers or he’d see we all went to the orphanage in Galveston. You were just a kid, but he turned around real quick.”

“I was sixteen,” Teagen corrected, “and the shot missed him by a foot.”

“You hit the couple who came out claiming to be relatives of Papa’s.”

Teagen shrugged. “I only grazed him. I hit her bag, but she was the one who did all the screaming. I swear I could still hear her climbing into that canoe at the river. She was saying how glad she was not to be related to us.”

The carriage was halfway to the house. Neither of the McMurrays seemed all that worried, but Jessie couldn’t think. She wasn’t brave. She’d never been brave. Eli hadn’t even owned a gun. Half the time he forgot to lock the bookstore door when he came in. She’d always considered strangers who walked into the store as customers. The knowledge that a threat might be coming terrified her. She picked up a rifle and held it close.

“You know how to use that?” Sage asked.

“Not at all, but whoever’s coming doesn’t know.”

“I’m afraid this is the kind of trouble we can’t fight with weapons, anyway,” Sage decided. “If it were strangers, Sims would have stopped them at the bridge. They wouldn’t be headed this way. If they meant us no harm, he wouldn’t have fired the shots.”

They all stood as the carriage pulled up and rocked to a halt.

Sims walked his horse to Teagen’s side of the porch. “I tried to stop them,” he said, “but they got a marshal riding with them. I don’t know the other two, but the lawman is legit. I met him once down by Houston.”

“You did the right thing,” Teagen said, “but cover my back. Badge or no badge, this could be some kind of trick.”

Sims waited near the house as Teagen walked toward the carriage.

Two men stepped out. One wore a tall hat and a wool great-coat like the rich men in Chicago wore. The other had a western-cut jacket with a badge on his chest.

Teagen offered no greeting. He hadn’t invited them on his land, so he saw no need to welcome them.

A third man, almost too wide to push his way through the carriage opening, climbed out last. He was short and double Teagen’s age. He had a wild mane of white hair that hung across the cape covering his shoulders. He was a man no one would accidentally forget meeting.

“Teagen McMurray,” the fat man said as he fought for more than his share of air. “I’m Judge Frazier out of Austin, and I’m here to make sure all is legal in this matter that has come to my attention.”

Teagen finally offered his hand but didn’t say a word or lower his gun.

Frazier frowned. “You mind turning that rifle in some other direction? I don’t favor staring down the barrel of a weapon.”

“You’re on my land uninvited.”

The judge laughed a short bark. “I believe we are, sir, but we mean you no harm.”

The lawman standing to the left of the judge looked bothered. “McMurray, I knew better than to expect a welcome from you, but Randell Frazier is a district judge, and you’d be wise to show a little respect.”

Teagen propped his weapon on his shoulder, no longer pointing it at the visitors, but not following orders either. “Sheriff Brown, right?”

The sheriff, to his credit, offered his hand.

Teagen hesitated a moment, then took it. “I’ve heard of you. A little out of your territory, aren’t you?”

“I was asked to follow this matter from the coast.” The sheriff seemed to relax. “I know you don’t like folks stepping foot on your land, and I can’t say as I blame you, but this is official business, and it’s nothing to do with you.”

Jessie and Sage moved closer as Teagen answered, “If it’s on my land, then it’s my business.”

The sheriff introduced the man in the tall hat as Mr. Andrew Wenderman, a lawyer from Chicago.

Teagen introduced no one.

Wenderman wiped sweat from his bald head. “Do you think we could get out of this sun? I can feel my skin blistering in this blasted heat.”

Teagen didn’t move. “You won’t be here that long.” He turned back to the sheriff. “Mind telling me what this is all about? We’ve wasted enough time. I have work to do.”

Jessie watched Teagen’s every move. This was the hard man everyone talked about. The head of the family. She was glad he stood between her and the Chicago lawyer. She could smell trouble, and if it wasn’t about the McMurrays, then she feared it might be about her.

“Of course.” The judge had captured enough air to draw up to his full five-feet-four height. “Mr. Wenderman has traveled all the way from Chicago on the trail of a young woman who kidnapped three little girls. It seems she had no money or family and is unable to provide for the girls, yet she took them from the loving arms of their grandmother.” He paused as if reciting charges he found distasteful. “Mr. Wenderman’s client is the children’s grandmother and has papers from the Illinois State Court awarding her full custody.”

The words began to sink in. Jessie’s worst nightmare was happening, and she no longer had anywhere to run. She watched the sunny day go black and closed her eyes as she tumbled forward.

For a while, she felt nothing but black velvet surrounding her, pushing away all thought. Then, as if from far away, she heard Teagen say, “Jess, wake up.”

She smiled. He wasn’t ordering, he was asking, she reminded herself, although the two sounded pretty much the same to someone who didn’t know the man.

The world came back along with the panic. The horror she’d feared since the day Eli died was real . . . was happening. They’d come to take her babies away.

“Jess,” Teagen said again. “Can you hear me?”

She opened her eyes and saw his worried stare. She was in the study, curled up on the arm of the big chair he usually sat in. Sage stood in front of her with a glass of water in one hand and a towel in the other. Teagen knelt on one knee beside her chair.

“You gave us a fright.” Sage smiled. “If I hadn’t noticed you swaying like an elm branch, you would have hit the ground. Too much sun, I think.”

“Too many people,” Teagen corrected.

Jessie pushed herself into a sitting position and noticed Teagen’s arm braced around her for support. “I’m all right. I must have fainted.” She looked around the room. “Are those terrible men gone?”

Sage shook her head. “They’re on the porch. Teagen didn’t invite them in. With the noon heat coming on, the lawyer should be slow cooking about now in that wool coat.”

“Good.” She looked at Teagen. “The girls?”

“Still safe in the cellar. As soon as I know you’re all right, I’ll go tell the judge that this is just some big mistake. You’re the girls’ mother, and you have family coming to pick you up. The judge in Chicago obviously didn’t have the facts.”

Jessie met Sage’s stare but couldn’t say a word.

Finally, Sage said in a low voice, “Jessie has no relatives, Teagen.”

“You’re wrong. She’s waiting for them.”

Sage looked at Jessie for the answer. There could be no more hiding.

“She’s right,” Jessie said, remembering how it had only been a few days since she’d accidentally told Sage the truth. “I have no one coming. I have no living relatives. No one is coming for me.”

Teagen stood and pulled away, leaving her feeling more alone than she ever had.

Sage touched Jessie’s hand only a moment before she said, “I’ll offer the men on the porch some tea. You two have some talking to do.”

Silently, without looking up, Jessie agreed.

Sage almost ran from the room.

Jessie didn’t want to face Teagen or the lie she’d told to stay, but she had no choice.

Teagen walked to the window and stared out, but she knew he saw nothing right now but her lie. How many times over the years had he written that he hated liars? For Teagen there was right and wrong and no room in between.