Authors: Jodi Thomas,Linda Broday,Phyliss Miranda
A Texas Christmas (5 page)
Chapter 8
Sam rode the fence lines of his property knowing that he’d lose horses in the canyon if one was down during this time. The walls of the Palo Duro Canyon protected his herd from the wind and from the worst of the weather. Years before, Quanah Parker and his tribe had wintered here. Some said Sam’s people came during that time when the Indian Wars were going on, but Sam tended to think the legend was probably made up by his grandfather. Gran loved to tell stories about how his father once gave food to a starving Comanche band on the run and an hour later fed the troops from the fort chasing them.
Sam didn’t know if there was any truth to it, but the Comanche never raided on Thompson land, and one of his ancestors did manage to get enough money to buy a long stretch along the canyon rim. He’d given it to his kids, who gave it to his kids until Sam’s cousins owned most of the land down in the canyon below his property. They kept in contact, meeting in the fall and spring to trade. Sam laughed. Even those meetings were all business, not much hugging and helloing.
Sam often wished the relatives had bought the land all the way to town. Then they wouldn’t have the small farmers settling to the south of them. Men like Dolton and his like.
Web chattered behind him. He could say a few words like
bird
and
horse
, but most in between didn’t make sense. Sometimes Sam felt like his heart hurt from loving the boy so much. “We’ll be turning around soon, son.”
bird
and
horse
, but most in between didn’t make sense. Sometimes Sam felt like his heart hurt from loving the boy so much. “We’ll be turning around soon, son.”
Web made a laughing sound as they watched a deer bound out of the trees and run across the fresh snow.
Watching the deer’s path, Sam spotted something in the snow.
Tracks.
One horse moving so slow no snow flew around the hoofprints. One rider crossing the edge of his land just beyond the fence line. In an hour the tracks would have been covered by the snow, but now they were clear.
Sam scanned the trees beyond his property. Someone could be watching him now. For two years he’d expected Danni’s father to come back. He figured the man wouldn’t face him straight on, but might take a shot at him from a distance. He’d have to be drunk and dumb enough to fire on Sam, and drunk men don’t shoot straight. Sam had a feeling Otis Dolton knew if he missed, Sam would be coming for him.
So the men kept their distance and the strip of wooded land between their two ranches was never crossed. Until today.
Only, now, there was another threat. Boss Adler. He knew this valley. He’d stayed here with one of Sam’s cousins before he was a wanted man. He’d even come to a cousin’s fall meeting hoping to buy a horse.
Sam hadn’t liked the look of the man so he didn’t deal with him, but he’d recognized Adler once he stepped into the light of Maggie’s store. Adler could pick him off from the tree line if he wanted to, but if he killed Sam out here in the open he wouldn’t know where to look for Maggie. The shot would echo off the canyon walls, warning everyone to beware.
Sam kept his pace steady as he circled around, moving lower in the canyon. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t followed. A half hour later, he passed Nina’s dugout of a cabin and stopped in.
“Come to visit,” she yelled, “or that woman run you off?”
Sam laughed. He’d decided a long time ago that if he had to depend on a crazy woman, he might as well join the insanity. “What makes you think she’d run me off?” He swung down from his horse and started toward her knowing she’d have coffee on a low boil at the back of her stove.
She giggled and followed him inside. “Oh, you’re a looker, Sam, or you would be if you’d shave the terrible beard, but you Thompsons aren’t friendly like normal folks. They say because of you and your kin there ain’t no bears in these parts. They didn’t want to put up with your unfriendly ways.”
Sam pulled Web from his pack and let the boy walk around. Nina’s three cats went on full alert as he headed toward them. “I came to make sure you have plenty of supplies. It looks like a bad storm coming in. If we get a few feet of snow, this little dugout will be buried.”
“Afraid I’d come live with you if I ran out of supplies, and you’d have two women to put up with?”
“No. Just checking. I brought you a pound of coffee if you need it, but if you don’t, I—”
“I could use it,” she cut him off. “But don’t think that takes the place of my whiskey.”
“I didn’t.”
She handed him a cup of the dark brew as she asked, “You going to marry this one too?”
Sam didn’t pretend not to know what she was talking about. “Maybe I already have,” he said, thinking about that morning and the pretend game they’d both decided to play.
Nina handed Web a ball of yarn to play with. “You were good to that other girl. I seen her now and then. She’d been hurt so bad I think she was more dead than alive, but this one ain’t like that. She’s full of spirit and heart.”
Sam studied the old bag as he blew on his coffee. “Why do you say that?”
“She won’t stay just because she ain’t got nowhere else to go. She won’t tiptoe around like a ghost. She’ll want more. More than you know how to give, I’m guessing.”
“You think so?” He knew the old woman was right about Maggie. Every part of him was aware she was in his house. She filled the place.
“This one you’ll have to love to keep.”
Sam decided to step back into reality. “She’s only visiting.”
Nina got busy playing with Web, and Sam thought about how much it hurt to say those last words. He didn’t know Maggie anymore. Twenty years separated his memories from the woman now in his house, but he didn’t want to think about her leaving. She was shy and bossy and hard to understand all rolled into one woman. When he hugged her she turned to stone, but when he let her go she didn’t move away. She liked the idea of pretending to be married, but he had a feeling she didn’t know any more about playing the role than he did.
He watched Nina show Web how to play with the cats instead of pulling their tails. The boy loved it when he dragged a string across the floor and one of the cats followed.
While they played, Sam pulled the coffee from the bottom of his pack. “I’ll come by as soon as the snow clears.”
“I know you’ll come by when you can. You’ve been pestering me for years, and now you’ve bred I guess another generation will be pestering me for years to come. I just want you to know, I plan to live to be a hundred, so it might be a good idea if you produce a few more kids. Redheaded ones would be easy to spot.”
Sam grinned. “She’s only visiting.” He swore he could read the old woman’s thoughts in her eyes. “And I’m not taking her to my bed.” In polite society he guessed what he’d just said would be scandalous, but the old woman just cackled.
Nina helped him load Web back into the pack, then she handed him a bundle of clean clothes for the boy. He thanked her even though he knew, like everything between them, it was just a trade.
He climbed on his horse, suddenly in a hurry to be home. The snow was falling hard now, and if he hadn’t known the path to his place he would have never found it. Within minutes the snow would dust away his hoofprints. No one would be able to follow him through the rocks and trees. If someone was waiting for him to return to the pasture so they could follow him home, they’d be waiting a long time. For tonight and maybe tomorrow Sam knew they’d be safe.
Once he was home he took care of his horse and sat Web in his swing while he tried to shave in the icy water of the barn. He nicked himself a half dozen times, but finally stared at his face, reflected in water, for the first time in months. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at himself, but the man looking back seemed harder than he remembered. Maybe he was like Maggie, turning to stone as he aged.
Lifting Web, Sam asked, “How do I look?”
The baby patted his face, laughing.
“I know. You like the beard. I’ll grow it back.”
He cuddled Web close as he ran for the house. When he barreled through the back door, the warmth washed over him like a welcoming wave.
“Don’t forget to wipe your feet,” Maggie called as if it were something she thought she should say. She was standing in front of the stove stirring a pot. A few strands of her dark red hair had broken free of the leather band.
Sam lowered Web and turned to pull off his coat and hat. When he turned back she knelt a few feet away, busily pulling the boy’s coat off and paying little attention to her almost husband.
When she finally looked up he saw the surprise in her face. “You shaved.”
He shrugged. “I did a lousy job.”
She moved to him, touching his face almost as Web had. Without much thought, he pulled her into his arms, lifting her off the ground in a hug. “Oh, my,” she said when he sat her back down.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked when she just stood still in front of him.
“No,” she managed to say. “I’m just not used to being lifted off the ground.”
“I thought that was what a pretend husband might do, but if you’re not comfortable with it . . .”
“No. I didn’t say that.” She moved away. “Lunch is ready.”
He grinned. She didn’t mind him touching her, but she didn’t know how to react. He could deal with that.
They ate the best soup he’d ever tasted. Once he stopped staring at her every move, he noticed a few changes in the kitchen. Things had been rearranged, some put on lower shelves so she could reach them, and a green and blue scarf was spread over the table. It was far too small to cover the length, but it looked good.
They ate in silence, both talking to the baby from time to time. As soon as he finished, Sam bundled Web up and took him to the outhouse. By the time they returned, she’d done the dishes.
Sam took the boy to the blue blanket resting on the hearth in the main room. They spread it out close to the warmth and Web curled around an old baby blanket. He was asleep within a few minutes to Sam’s low voice telling him what a fine boy he was.
When Sam walked back to the kitchen, Maggie had the medical kit down and was prepared. He knew, much as he hated it, he’d have to let her change the bandage. She didn’t seem to believe that wounds healed on their own.
“It’s time.”
He unbuttoned his heavy wool work shirt and pulled off his undershirt, which was stained with blood. She stared at him as if she’d never seen a man undressed from the waist up.
He’d never felt so naked in his life as he realized that she might not have ever seen so much of a male.
When she didn’t move as he crossed the kitchen and sat down in the chair, he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Your chest is so hairy,” she managed to say, as if she was looking at a freak show. “I didn’t notice last night because of all the blood.”
“I’m not shaving it.” He smiled and she smiled back. “Still want to change the bandage?”
She went to work talking nonstop about the class she’d taken once in school. He had no idea why he needed to know all the details about a first aid class in some all-girls school, but he liked the sound of her voice. Finally, he decided she was nervous and somehow talking helped.
Blood had dried in spots, making the dressing hard to peel away, but he gave her credit for being gentle. Both holes had started scabbing over and he doubted there would be any more bleeding. He joked that he did more damage to himself shaving than the bullet did. She didn’t laugh.
When she finished, he told her she’d done a fine job. She brushed her hand over the bandages, then looked away.
“Look at me, Maggie.”
Slowly she met his gaze.
“Don’t touch the bandage, touch me.” Sam held his breath waiting. If he didn’t tell her what he wanted, she might never figure it out.
She didn’t look away as she raised her hand and brushed her fingers along the top of his shoulder to where the bandage ended and his throat began. She ran her fingers along his neck and he felt his muscles tightening to her touch.
With a sudden jerk, he circled his arm around her waist and pulled her down onto his lap. She was stiff, as if made of ice, but she didn’t pull away. “What’s wrong?” He thought of setting her back on her feet and pretending he’d never grabbed her.
“Nothing,” she started, then gulped down a breath and said, “I don’t like to be startled. If you plan to hug me or grab me, I would like to know in advance. I don’t like surprises.”
“Maggie, I don’t want to talk you into anything, or bully you or force you. If you don’t want this, we can go back to being little more than polite strangers. If you’d rather I didn’t touch you, I give you my word I never will again.” He figured he’d have to break both arms to keep that promise for a week, but he’d keep his word.
She stared at her hands and he felt like a fool for moving too fast. He should have been happy just to hug her good night or maybe hold her hand. He shouldn’t have grabbed her in a bear hug or pulled her onto his lap. He’d been around people so little he didn’t know how to act, and he’d never even tried to court.
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