Twice a Texas Bride (17 page)

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Authors: Linda Broday

BOOK: Twice a Texas Bride
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“I will, son.”

The remainder of the visit went well. Abigail was in good spirits. Maybe the key was knowing that someone you loved cared about you. It certainly seemed the case. Callie filed that away for future reference in dealing with her difficult mother-in-law.

* * *

For the remainder of the day, the lullaby his mother had sung to Wren played over and over in Rand's head. It seemed so familiar. Where had he heard it? Suddenly bits and pieces of a memory of sitting in someone's lap filled his head and how the sweetness of the song had soothed his fears. It had been Abigail. She
had
loved him. When had that changed? When had Abigail decided that her career was more important than her son?

Rand laid down his hammer. He almost wished the memory had stayed buried, because that would be a lot less painful than having to face the truth: he hadn't mattered enough.

Memories held such power. They could bring happiness, they could devastate, or they could hold him in a steely grip that bound more securely than chains.

Take the dreams he kept having that instilled sheer terror. The one last night had shaken him to the core. He stood all alone in the dark, surrounded by trees. Suddenly, a horse galloped straight for him. Its glittering eyes glowed an eerie red. The animal rose on its hind legs above him and let out a horrible noise. Rand couldn't escape. There was nowhere to run. Just before it came down on top of him, he woke up.

The nightmare had left him drenched in sweat and struggling to catch his breath. What did it mean? Why did nightmares plague him now? For God's sake, he wasn't a child anymore.

“Everything all right, Rand?” Cooper laid a hand on his back.

Rand jerked and picked up his hammer. “I'm fine. Just thinking.”

Brett glanced up. “We can stop for a bit if you want.”

“Won't get anything done if we don't keep after it.” Unable to explain his troublesome thoughts, Rand pushed the memory and dream to the back of his mind and dove into his work.

By the time darkness moved across the land like a stealthy invader, Rand was ready to call it quits. Every bone and muscle ached. They'd completed the outside of the house. Tomorrow they'd all return and start on the interior. He couldn't wait to get it fixed up for his new bride.

He and his brothers had discussed when to stock the Last Hope with cattle and decided to do it within the month. Cooper was giving him thirty head for a wedding gift. Brett would kick in ten of the best horses in Texas. Then they mentioned that a nearby rancher named Otis Crenshaw needed to sell off his herd numbering around three hundred. Otis was going back east to live out his days with his daughter and son-in-law.

The price was right at two dollars a head, far cheaper than the going rate because of the need to settle things quickly. Since Rand could only comfortably run around a hundred cows on his spread, Cooper agreed to buy the remainder for his and Delta's second ranch, the Four Promises.

Rand's dream was all coming together. Excitement hummed inside. He'd never thought it would happen.

Before Cooper left, he gave Rand the news that Nate Fleming had left the area. Seemed the sheriff in Corsicana had telegraphed that Fleming had robbed a stage between there and Fort Worth yesterday. Maybe the outlaw had decided to cut his losses and move on. At least it appeared that way. Rand wasted no time in telling Callie. Her radiant smile made his chest swell.

That night after supper, he brought in some wood for the fireplace and threw on a couple of logs. As he rose, an envelope on the mantel caught his attention. He opened it to find five hundred dollars inside along with a note.

Dear Rand,

Before you fuss, this money is for my granddaughter. Use it to buy whatever she needs. I won't have her going without. We can all use a little assistance now and again. This will help you get on your feet. I won't hear another word about it.

Abigail

Rand cussed a blue streak under his breath. His mother would be the death of him. He didn't know what to do about it yet. If he kept the money, it would only encourage her to persist on the same path. He'd learned that if he gave her an inch, she'd take a mile. But the fact was he could use it. The renovations had eaten up the cash he'd set aside and he had to buy more furniture for the house. Toby needed his own room.

Rand put everything back into the envelope and laid it on the mantel. He'd sleep on it. Maybe he'd dream of an answer.

Wren let out a cry from her cradle. Sounds from the kitchen told him Callie was finishing up the dishes. He picked up the babe. “Hey, little one. What's your problem? Need something in your belly? Tell your papa and I'll fix it.”

Toby had been lying on the sofa. He sat up. “She ain't hungry. That's her poopy cry.”

The boy seemed to have something there, because a reeking odor reached Rand's nose. Strange how the boy had a gift for knowing these things.

Rand held the child away from him and looked around for…he didn't know what exactly. Definitely help of some sort, preferably a small army. He wasn't about to ask Toby what to do. Nope. Not because he didn't think the six-year-old had answers—he most assuredly did—but because Rand was the father, and fathers were supposed to solve problems.

No, he wouldn't need Callie. He could do this. After all, it was a small job. It'd be easy.

“I do believe you're right, Toby. I guess I'll take her upstairs.”

“Aunt Callie changes her down here. The diapers are in that box next to the cradle.”

“Oh.” Rand found a stack of folded cotton triangles. He got one and laid the baby on a quilt on the floor. Her cries got louder and more insistent. “Hold your horses, little girl. I'm doing my best here.”

Filling his lungs with a cleansing breath, he unfastened the safety pin that held the contraption. The stench hit him square in the face and nearly made him lose his supper.

Good
Lord!

He'd better hurry. He turned his head to the side and took another breath. Wren squalled and began to kick and squirm, getting it on her feet, on Rand's hands, on the quilt. With any luck, the wall escaped. Thank goodness he hadn't bought the new wallpaper, though.

Now that he had the diaper off, what next?

With a hasty plan in his head, he managed a downward swiping motion with the soiled diaper and wadded it up in a ball. But he couldn't put the clean diaper on until he washed off the remnants, which clung like thistle to a horse's tail.

Wren wailed.

Suddenly, a wet cloth magically appeared in his line of vision. Toby stood holding his nose. In his outstretched hand he clutched the damp rag. “Hurry. I cain't breathe.”

Overwhelming gratitude filled Rand. He took the offering and finished the job, but not without twice jabbing his finger with the safety pin.

Finally, he picked up his sweet baby girl, who smelled much better. “There. It's all done. No more poopy crying, you hear?”

He shot a glance at the offending diaper, which stunk to high heaven. Maybe he could pay Toby to go throw it outside far, far away from the house. He glanced at Toby and received a firm shake of his head that said he wasn't about to touch the thing. It might as well have been a rabid animal.

A giggle came from the doorway. Rand turned to see Callie. Her laugh told him she'd witnessed it all.

“You could've helped, you know,” he said.

“Yes, but I wanted to see how you handled the initiation. Congratulations. You're now a father, Mr. Sinclair.”

Rand grinned. “I couldn't have done it without Toby's help. He's quite a little man. Thanks, Toby. I owe you one. For a minute there, I thought I might have to turn the job over to you.”

Toby shook his head emphatically. “I ain't doin' it. I ain't never ever doin' that.”

Callie laughed and handed Rand a bottle. Picking up the soiled diaper, she thankfully took the stinky ball of cloth from the room.

With it gone, Rand could breathe much better. He sat in the rocker and watched Wren greedily suck on the bottle. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

This was a heck of a life he now had. And he wouldn't trade it for all the tea in China.

The protective fierceness rising up left him shaken. No one was going to steal his happiness.

Soft footsteps announced Callie's return a few minutes later. What they had might not be perfect, but it fulfilled him in ways he'd never thought possible.

One day, she'd see the love he had to give.

But tonight…tonight they'd begin to get to know each other a little more.

Seventeen

After they got the children tucked into bed, Rand and Callie sat by the fire for a bit. He remembered the envelope on the mantel and rose to get it.

Callie glanced up from her knitting. “What's that?”

“Money my mother left. Five hundred dollars. I found it when I came in after supper.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Don't know yet. Wanted to talk it over with you. She left a note also. Said the money is for
her
granddaughter because she wasn't going to see Wren doing without. Like we're depriving the babe. It's a bunch of malarkey.” Rand searched Callie's face as she put down her knitting and gave him her full attention. She seemed deep in thought.

“Maybe she just wants to help. Maybe she's not as controlling as you might think. She has her faults, but she really does seem to care. Could be Abigail just doesn't know how to show it.”

“My mother appears to have an ally.”

“I saw her differently today for some reason.”

Rand stared at the envelope. “The fact is, we really could use the money.”

“Then take it. Let her have her joy.”

“It sticks in my craw that she's constantly butting in, but if I don't take this, she'll just go behind my back and try something else.”

“Will you let your pride get in the way of accepting what you need? That money would make life easier for you.”

“I'm afraid she'll use it to control us.”

“What would you do with it if you don't keep it? You know she won't take it back.”

“I could donate it to an orphanage. I've given money before to a big one in Fort Worth. What do you think I should do?”

Callie put her knitting into the cloth bag and tucked it away. “You need to resolve your differences with Abigail or you'll only continue to be at odds. Go see her and lay all your cards on the table. Find a way to get past this for your sake and for hers. Maybe all she wants is to know she's helping.”

“I suppose.” Rand let out a troubled sigh and rested his elbow on the mantel. “I didn't know when I married you that I was getting such a wise woman. If we're keeping the money, I'm going to buy you a new dress.”

Her eyes met his and her color rose. “I've got everything I need right here.”

“Let's call it a night. What say we go to bed, Mrs. Sinclair?” Her lips were calling him and he couldn't wait to taste them.

Each shared moment, each touch, each kiss moved him closer to his goal. One night he'd have his beautiful bride in his bed beside him. That is, if he didn't lose his mind first.

* * *

Over the next week, the ranch was a beehive of activity. Rand, his brothers, and the extra men worked hard making repairs to the house. A group outside put new fence posts in the ground and started getting the land ready for cattle.

Callie loved watching Rand work. Everything about him fascinated her, from his enthusiasm to the love he showered on Toby and Wren. She'd long since given up the search for her mother's treasure chest. Her life didn't need to look up any more than it already did. She was content. With Nate so quiet, she had everything she wanted.

Except being able to let him have her body.

Each time she thought she might be able to give herself, fear rose up, putting a stone wall between them.

Now, as her eyes sought the lines of his tall, familiar form, her guilt became unbearable. She had to find a short reprieve. Fresh air, the sky overhead, and her paints would bring calm.

After lunch, Callie brought Wren outside. She put the baby in a basket and set up her easel. She knew exactly what she wanted to paint.

As a girl, she'd always been partial to the way the sun filtered through the canopy of evergreen trees, creating lacy images on the ground below. She'd made up stories out of the dancing lights and shadows. They'd become valiant knights on horses slaying dragons, and pretty maids in need of saving. Now she prayed she could capture what her mind saw.

Toby bounded out the kitchen door with his faithful dog. “What'cha doin'?”

“Painting. Would you like to try?”

“Naw. I'll just keep watch over my sister.”

“Is something bothering you?” It wasn't like the boy to leave the men. He usually wanted to be right in the thick of things with his heroes.

“I don't wanna go away. I wanna stay here with you an' Mr. Rand an' Wren.”

Laying down her paintbrush, she took his hands. “Honey, you're not going to have to leave.”

“Cause we're a fam'ly?”

“Yes, that's exactly right. We belong together. What brought this on?”

Toby shrugged and dragged his sleeve across his nose. “I'm scared. What if my papa comes and makes me go with him?” Tears formed in his dark eyes. “He makes me do bad things.”

Anger swept through her. She had no idea what Nate had made him do, but she knew what he was capable of, and that terrified her. She pulled Toby to her and hugged him. “Can you tell me what kind of things?”

“Stuff. I don't wanna talk about it.”

“Okay, honey, you don't have to. Just know that Mr. Rand and I will take good care of you and keep you safe. Your papa isn't going to get you. We promise.”

“Or Wren either?”

“Nope. You're both safe.”

The baby girl let out a cry. Toby wiggled out of Callie's arms and leaned over the basket. The way he patted Wren's back and talked to her formed a big lump in her throat. The boy took his role of big brother seriously. It was plain to see he loved Wren with all his heart. Callie suspected that as soon as the infant learned to toddle, the two would indeed be inseparable.

After watching a moment to make sure her services weren't needed, she picked up her paintbrush. Within minutes she became lost in her work. She didn't look up until the men came from the house.

“There you are.” Rand let his hand rest on her shoulder. “I wasn't sure where you'd gone. We're done for the day.” He leaned down to look at the painting. “That's pretty. I would've bet a whole stack of chips you still had talent. I'm happy to see I was right.”

Callie shrieked and quickly dove in front of the canvas. “Rand, you're not supposed to look yet. It's not finished.”

“Could've fooled me.”

“Where did the boy go?” Brett asked. “I missed him not being underfoot. I won't leave without telling him good-bye.”

“He was here a bit ago.” She told them about Toby's worries that Nate might take him. “Wren cried and he got her quiet. I imagine he got bored babysitting and took off to the tepee with Biscuit.”

“Probably so.” Brett walked to Cooper's wagon and helped him load some things into the back.

“Want to see what we got done to the house?” Rand asked.

“I'm dying of curiosity.” Callie covered the painting with a cloth, picked up the baby, and took Rand's hand.

He led her through the downstairs rooms. “I still have to find that wallpaper design you want for the parlor, but we fixed the floors. Got the kitchen in pretty good shape too.”

“I saw. I love everything.” She met his gaze and felt warmth blaze a path inside her as only he could do. The man she'd married could heat her blood with nothing more than a glance. If they ever reached a point where they did more than kiss and touch, they'd probably burst into flames.

God help her, Rand Sinclair tempted her to forget everything and crawl into his bed. Maybe she would some night.

The thought startled her, yet the truth was there.

“Well, that's about it. We'll start upstairs in the next few days.” His hand rose to touch her face. He moved closer.

A cry from outside ruined the moment and they jerked apart. “Rand, you better come quick.”

They raced outside, where Cooper met them. His face had drained of color. “Toby's gone. He's not in the tepee and we can't find him anywhere.”

* * *

“Maybe he snuck upstairs and is playing up there.” Rand refused to accept the worst. He had to rule out everything before he would let himself consider that Nate might've snatched him.

Callie whimpered and put her hand to her mouth. “I wasn't watching him. I should've paid more attention. I should've…”

Rand's arm slipped around her shoulders. “Don't blame yourself. We were all busy. I never thought this would happen with so many workers on the place. Don't worry, sweetheart, we'll find him.”

They searched all through the house, but there was no sign of the boy. Rand and Callie went back outside.

Brett came from the woods. “Found tracks leading away from here. Looks like a child and a dog.”

“No adult ones?” Rand asked the question that was in all their minds.

“Not that I could see. Of course, we can't rule anything out. There are tricks. If a man doesn't want to be tracked, he can tie burlap to his feet. I'll keep looking. Just came back to get my horse.”

Cooper grabbed some lanterns and quickly selected five of his best men. “Stay here and keep Mrs. Sinclair and the baby safe. The rest of you come with me.”

“Rand, I need to be out there looking,” Callie said, clutching his arm.

“Darlin', as much as I'd love to have you help search, Wren has to have someone caring for her. Besides, Toby might return. Could be he chased after Biscuit and hasn't been taken after all.”

“I pray that's the case. Go find our son. Bring him home.”

“I'll not come back without him. If anyone can find him, Brett can.” He kissed her cheek and went to saddle his horse. He hadn't a moment to waste. Darkness would arrive soon, and night predators would stalk the woods, both the two-legged and the four-legged kind.

As Rand was about to leave, Callie ran from the house with a burlap sack and a wool blanket. “For Toby when you find him. He'll be cold even though he has his coat. And here's some bread, cheese, and ham for you and the men. Save some for Toby.”

Rand drew her against him and kissed her. “I'm going to fix this. Go inside now and keep the doors locked. Cooper's men will protect you.”

Tears running down her face pierced him when he looked back a few minutes later. He hadn't kept his promise. He should've tried harder to watch over the boy. Fact was, he'd gotten too comfortable and let down his guard.

That had been a mistake.

* * *

Following Brett closely, Rand felt the hair on the nape of his neck rise. The woods closed around him like hundreds of sentinels guarding its secrets. He inhaled the dank smell of rotting leaves and fallen timber. Heavy shadows created a multitude of hiding places. The hoots of an owl and the yip of a fox probably chasing his supper added to the haunting scene.

They found the place where someone had recently tied a horse. Fear knotted Rand's stomach. It seemed to point to Fleming. Yet he couldn't be sure. Toby wouldn't willingly go with the man who gave him nightmares.

About two hours into the search, Brett knelt on one knee to peer at the earth. A scowl darkened his face.

“What is it?” Rand asked.

“Toby and his dog definitely aren't alone.” Brett showed him and the others the faint boot print of a man. “Whatever he has on his feet slipped to the side and the tracks of a horse are becoming clear.”

Fleming did have Toby.

Rand's gut burned with white-hot anger. He clenched his fist. When he caught up to the outlaw, he'd take pleasure in exacting retribution. For now, he wouldn't rest until he saved the boy who'd snuck into his heart. Every second Toby spent with Fleming was one more they couldn't get back.

The silvery moon rose over the treetops, reminding Rand that he hadn't eaten. He divvied up the food among the men. They ate in the saddle as they resumed the search.

Cognizant of how far voices could carry in the woods, no one spoke. They didn't have to. Rand knew their minds were on rescuing Toby, and they wouldn't stop until they had him, not even if they had to chase Fleming all the way to hell and back.

About midnight, Rand heard a dog's frantic bark. Prickles of warning crawled up his spine. He leaned forward in the saddle.

Brett held up a hand and spoke low. “Don't, brother, it might be a trap.”

“I've got to.” Rand spurred his roan into a gallop toward whatever awaited. Whether it was Biscuit or not remained to be seen. The dog could be hurting. He had to save it.

He and the others rode for almost half a mile. The barking got louder and louder. At last Rand rounded a stand of trees, and there in the moonlit clearing was Biscuit. She was tied to a tree. He drew his Colt, scanning the shadows for any movement. Sliding off his horse, Rand knelt down beside the dog. Biscuit whimpered and licked his face while he cut the rope holding her.

Brett, Cooper, and the rest of the searchers kept watch while he checked the dog for injury.

“Near as I can tell, I don't think she's hurt,” Rand announced, aiming the light from the lantern. “Appears she's been tied to the tree for a while. The rope rubbed her neck pretty bad in her effort to free herself. Probably tied her up so she wouldn't give the jackal's position away.”

Without a word, Brett peered closely at the ground all around the clearing. Rand knew if anyone could piece together the facts, Brett would.

At last his baby brother spoke, “Toby grows tired. He rested here by the tree.”

Laying a hand on Rand's back, Cooper said, “We'll get him back. The mangy devil will grow too tired to travel and have to stop. Then we'll pounce on him quicker than a barn cat on a mouse. Ready to move out?”

With a quick nod, Rand started to lift Biscuit onto the horse.

Brett stopped him. “Let me have the dog. She might lead us to them. It's worth a shot. Your decision.”

Without further discussion, Rand handed Biscuit over to his brother. Brett knelt down and rubbed the animal's ears. “Go to Toby, girl. Go find him.”

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