Twilight in Texas (13 page)

When the war ended, Wolf had been running too long to settle down. His home had been burned, his land claimed for taxes. There was nowhere for him to go. He’d fought hard for what he thought was his right for his state to be free, but his side lost. For him, there would be no parade, no pension. For Wolf, only a warrant awaited him if he returned home.

Without putting on any clothes, he stepped from the stream and stretched out in the grass. Eight years ago, when he met Molly, he was almost the gentleman she thought him to be. But now, too much had happened. He lived off the land like an animal, sometimes for months. He forgot all the rules of etiquette his mother had drilled into him. He’d become Wolf. Benjamin no longer existed.

The warm night air dried his skin as he remembered Molly’s kiss from only hours before. Slowly he realized how wrong he’d been to kiss her as he had. They no longer fit together. He couldn’t see himself settling down and working a regular job. It would be better to play the charade of the marriage until she was safe, then walk away. He’d never belonged in her world. He never would.

Wolf closed his eyes. He could tell himself that a hundred times, but he doubted he’d ever believe it
in his heart.

He was so absorbed, Wolf didn’t hear a horse walking in the stream until it was too close for him even to make an effort to bolt for his guns.

He lay perfectly still, hoping whoever it was would pass by without seeing a two-hundred-pound man lying nude in the grass.

A deep chuckle gave him away. What were the chances of that?

“Well, it was bound to happen.” Wes McLain’s familiar voice came from not ten feet away. “I always knew you’d go mad one day and start living like the animal you’re named after.”

Wolf opened his eyes and stared at the shadow. Even in the blackness, he could see the military bearing that still hung about Wes like a cloak.

Standing, Wolf pulled on his trousers and growled. “Either you’re getting better, or I’m losing my hearing. Hell, time was I could smell a Yank for a good mile. Now you walk through the water a few feet away.”

“Speaking of smell.” Wes swung down from his horse with the ease of a cavalryman. “Is that lavender soap you’re wearing this evening?”

“Shut up,” Wolf growled again. “Don’t say another word unless you wanta be counting your teeth in your hand.”

Wes laughed. He might not be as big as Wolf, but his smile showed he’d known the ranger long enough to have no fear of the man. “Good to see you. I was hoping we’d meet up before Waco. I was down in the Hill Country buying cattle when I got the word. I guessed you’d be traveling the stage trails.”

Wolf stacked a few logs for a fire. He knew he and Wes would talk a while before they slept, if they slept at all. “You heard how John is?”

Wes shook his head.

The men made camp in the rhythm of old friends. Wes boiled coffee. Wolf unrolled the biscuits Molly had packed, noticing she’d cut each and spread jam in the centers. Wes’s brother was married to Wolf’s sister, which made them close to being relatives. A mutual respect for one another made them friends.

“How’s your bride, Allie?” Wolf finally asked, knowing he didn’t want to hear the answer.

Wes was a hard man, scarred by war, yet when he thought of his wife, something softened about him. “I promised I’d bring the kid back alive. I’ve never broken my word to her.”

Wolf remembered the tiny woman who was now Wes’s wife. Wes pulled her from a cage where she’d been treated like a wild animal. With kindness he’d brought her back to the world from the hell of being passed around as a slave captive by first the Comanches, then the man who used her as little more than a side show attraction.

Wolf didn’t want to think of sweet Allie sad now. “What’s the kid done this time?” he asked about Allie’s brother. For the past few years, Wolf felt like he and the McLain boys had been guardian angels to a wild kid who wished them all dead. He didn’t take to being civilized any more than an alligator would.

“Allie thought we should send him to a real school. She’s had no luck teaching him to read or speak English, for that matter.” Wes ran a hand along his scarred cheek. “I swear, the kid looks civilized, but he lived with the Comanche so long, a part of him just won’t listen. At night, when he’s with us, I see him watching the path of the moon like he’s a prisoner in chains and that’s the only touch of freedom he has.”

Wes poured Wolf a cup of coffee. “He went along with the idea of going away to school. And to tell
the truth, I was kind of glad to see him leave. Except for his sister, he looks at everyone on my spread as if he’d just as soon see them floating facedown in the creek.

“I took him to Dallas to a good school. He stayed a few days before he disappeared. A month later, he turned up in a Waco bar fight. Seems a man died, and John was the last one standing, so he took the blame.”

“You think he killed the fellow?” Wolf asked.

Wes shook his head. “No. A few months ago I might have, but wishing everyone around him dead and killing them are two different things. The kid’s unhappy. His world has been turned upside down. First, seeing his parents killed, then being kidnapped and growing up on the move with one tribe after another. Finally, when he’d almost forgotten his family and grown accustomed to the Indian ways, he had that life ripped away and was told he could never go back. He doesn’t know who he is. He thinks he belongs nowhere.”

Wolf stood. “So how we going to get him out, friend?”

Wes stared up at him. “How far are you willing to go?”

“As far as it takes,” Wolf answered honestly.

Wes smiled. “Good, then I have a plan.”

I
T WAS ALMOST DAWN WHEN
M
OLLY FINALLY FELL ASLEEP
. In what seemed like minutes, Callie Ann stood by her bed, shaking her shoulder.

“Wake up,” the little girl whispered. “Wake up, I think it’s time we ate breakfast.”

Molly forced her eyes open. “It can’t be morning. Not yet.”

Callie Ann laughed. “Yes, it is.”

Molly pulled the pillow over her head. “Go away, Morning. I need sleep.”

Giggling, Callie Ann lifted a corner of the pillow and yelled, “Morning won’t go away.”

“All right.” Molly shoved her hair from her eyes. “I’m up.”

They laughed as they dressed for the day then went down to a breakfast of cold rolls, apples, and tea. By the time Molly removed the alarm bells and unlocked the front door, people were waiting.

The day was busy and full for them both. The rangers finished Wolf’s bed and asked if there was anything else they could do. Everyone from Mr. Miller to the old woman people called Granny Gravy dropped in to say hello. A few needed something, but most just came to pass the time.

By evening, when Molly finally sat down next to Callie Ann on the steps, she was surprised to realize how exhausted she felt. “Passing the time” was not an easy job.

The child rested her head in Molly’s lap. “I don’t want to go anywhere to eat tonight. I’m tired from watching all day. Can we stay here?”

Molly brushed the girl’s curls. “I’d like that. When I used to travel with my dad in the army camps I watched men make peanut porridge. I put some on a while ago. Would you like some of that for supper?”

Callie Ann smiled. “Peanut porridge and rolls with apple slices in the middle.”

“That sounds like as fine a meal as I’ve ever ordered in a restaurant.”

By the time they cooked and ate, they were both ready for bed. Molly carefully rigged the alarms on the doors, then went up to tuck in Callie Ann. She marveled at how quickly the child had become a part of her life. When Wolf returned there would probably be word of other relatives she could live with. Molly knew Callie Ann was only company, but she felt like family.

“I forgot to tell you,” Callie Ann said as she curled into her bed. “Uncle Orson watched Mr. Miller bring the key back this afternoon.”

Raising an eyebrow, Molly asked, “Are you sure?”

“Uncle Orson said he put it back on the hook under the counter.”

Molly didn’t comment as she moved to her room across the hallway. Maybe Miller felt guilty about taking the key. Maybe he was afraid to carry through with whatever he’d planned. Maybe he thought she
might miss the original and made a copy.

Until Molly was sure, she’d keep the doors locked and rigged with alarms. The Navy Colt would be by her bed until Wolf returned to sleep downstairs. If trouble came knocking, she’d be ready.

After sleeping very little the night before, she welcomed her bed. By the time she settled in, she was already dreaming of Benjamin and the make-believe life they had together in her fantasies. Her dreams of him changed over the years. At first she’d imagine him coming home in his uniform and dancing with her. As the years passed they had long walks and talks in her mind. Sometimes he’d save her, defending her against the world. Sometimes they’d just enjoy a quiet dinner and talk of the day. It didn’t matter. Benjamin lived in her dreams.

Hours later, Molly thought she heard the bell clang twice before she fought through the deep sleep she’d entered. Grabbing her gun, she was at the stairs before she blinked sleep fully from her eyes. The bell chimed again, sounding muffled as if gloved hands had caught it in midair.

Molly searched the darkness. The store was still…empty.

Molly took the final few steps, trying to see into the dark corners of the room for any movement. As her hand gripped the gun tighter, she told herself she had to be ready to fire. Her father always warned her never to draw a gun unless she was willing to use it. If she hesitated, it could mean not only her life, but Callie Ann’s. No man stood by to protect her. She had only herself to depend on.

She reached the ground level. Nothing. As always, smells drifted through the air in greeting. The few colored bottles remaining on the shelves reflected light from the street. But all was silent.

Circling the counters, Molly checked the door. It had been unlocked and opened enough to sound the alarm, but the ropes were still intact. No one could have entered.

Pushing the door closed, she twisted the lock. The bell clanked again, falling back into place at guard. She took a deep breath. Whoever had tried to get in had failed. The alarm must have frightened them away. Lowering the gun, she walked back to the stairs.

As she headed up, the corner of her gaze caught a slight movement in the curtain separating her work area from the kitchen. A silent scream caught in Molly’s throat. She wasn’t alone. Someone
had
entered, maybe even replaced her bell system so she wouldn’t know. Someone waited just beyond the curtain.

It took every ounce of her strength not to run. Slowly, she moved up the stairs and into the blackness. Halfway up, she turned and sat down, holding her gun steady atop her knees.

Afraid even to breathe, she waited. As she focused on the curtain, she tried to keep from blinking. Her finger stayed poised on the trigger, ready for action.

The curtain shifted again, but there was no sound.

Molly raised the barrel to heart level. If the intruder were armed, she might get one shot before he answered with fire of his own. The stairway shadows protected her, yet the walls imprisoned her.

Seconds dragged by like hours. Her hands grew sweaty on the weapon. Her knees shook. She reminded herself she was a general’s daughter. She could do what had to be done.

The curtain parted. For a moment, she thought something was horribly wrong. There was only a void where a man’s chest and shoulders should have been.

Then she saw the blond curls and knew.

“Callie!” Molly dropped the gun and ran down the steps.

The startled child hiccuped a cry. The cup of milk she carried slipped from her fingers and shattered. In fright, Callie Ann backed up, entangling herself into the curtain.

“Callie,” Molly lowered her voice. “You frightened me so.”

Callie Ann frowned, then began to cry. “You scared me, too. I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?”

“No,” Molly whispered, trying to let her voice calm the child. “I guess we just scared each other half to death. Maybe we’ll both think it was a dream when we wake up.”

They laughed, suddenly embarrassed by their own fear.

“I came down for some of those cookies Ephraim called crackers. He always let me have one when I asked.” She looked down at the crumbs in her hand. “My grandma used to leave a snack by my bed in case I got hungry. She said she didn’t want me wandering about the house with a candle. I didn’t tell her, but I used to eat the snack, then wander around.”

“It’s all right.” Molly brushed the crumbs from Callie Ann’s tiny fingers. “You can have a snack anytime, but I’d rather you not walk about down here alone at night.”

“’Cause you got the place triggered like a trap?”

Molly looked closely at Callie Ann. “Triggered…trap?”

The child nodded. “I saw the bells tied to the door but I didn’t bother them none. My grandma used to show me how a trigger worked on a trap. But I don’t understand yours. What are you hoping to catch?”

“Nothing.” Molly cleaned up the milk and crumbs. “I only wanted to know if someone was in the store.”