Cowboy Come Home (27 page)
Authors: Janette Kenny
A hazy image of being herded from the train like cattle flashed in her mind’s eye. “I remember the cold and the wind. The matron grabbed my hand and pulled me from you.”
“Yes! It was horrible,” Maggie said. “We were both crying, and you fought so.”
She nodded, seeing that much. “I broke free and ran from her. But I fell.” She shook her head. “I don’t remember anything after that.”
“You fell off the platform and knocked yourself out. That man who arranged to have the train stopped there picked you up, put you in his buggy, and drove off.” Maggie smiled. “Before we were put back on the train, I found your broach on the ground.”
“I’m glad you kept it. Tell me, was Mama with Daddy?” she asked, hungry to know more about the woman who’d wanted a child so.
“No. He was alone, Daisy. And he wasn’t the same man who raised you.”
That surprised her, yet she’d had a flicker of memory of an austere man who’d scared her. “Do you know how I ended up being Jared Barton’s daughter?”
Maggie looked away and bit her lower lip. “I don’t know the particulars,” she said. “But shortly after you reached Dodge City, Barton took you in. From there the trail led us back to Colorado. That’s where it ended, and we had no idea where to look next.”
“Hollis told me Daddy and Mama came back from Colorado with me. I thought he’d taken me off the train there.”
She laid a hand on Maggie’s. “Was he a good man?”
Daisy smiled. “Yes, he was a wonderful father and doted on me. All the boys were afraid to court me. Except Trey.”
“He worked for Barton?”
She nodded. “For nearly a year. I was spoken for at the time, but all I could think about was Trey.”
“Sounds like love.”
“It is.” One-sided. Doomed perhaps.
She rubbed her brow, then launched into the sad story of Trey disappearing by the foreman’s hand. Of her finding out she was with child. Of losing the baby and then losing her daddy soon after.
“Damn him!” Dade said, his sudden appearance in the parlor startling them both. “I won’t hold with him dallying with my sister. He’ll marry you.”
“No, he won’t,” Daisy said. “If he doesn’t find he loves me, there won’t be a marriage.”
Dade opened his mouth to argue.
Maggie spoke up first. “You’ve butted heads with Trey over this already.”
“Yes. He asked for my hand, but he couldn’t give me his heart in return.”
“He’ll come to care for you deeply in time,” Dade said, the heat gone from his voice now.
In fact her brother looked a bit white around the mouth, like the subject was one he tried hard to avoid as well. Maggie’s knowing smile said she understood Daisy’s stand all too well. Understood and agreed with her.
“Let it rest, Dade,” Maggie said.
He huffed out a breath and pulled a face that was as close to a masculine pout as Daisy had ever seen. “That’s why he went off to think.”
“Partly, but he’s also concerned that Mrs. Charlton could be his mother,” Daisy said.
Dade nodded, looking grim. “This could go either way, Daisy. I say we take the decision out of his hands. He’ll understand and thank us in time.”
Daisy got to her feet. “He’s always talking about how you were the levelheaded one. How you stuck by him. I suggest you do that, because I don’t want this brought up now. And I surely don’t want this mentioned around the Charltons.”
“Fine. We’ll all pretend nothing happened between you and Trey,” Dade said. “But know this. I won’t stand by and let him hurt you.”
She nodded woodenly, fearing the worst hurt was yet to come if Trey convinced himself he was incapable of loving her.
The Charltons arrived the next day, and Daisy took an immediate liking to the small woman with raven black hair and deep eyes that seemed haunted. Like Trey’s.
She welcomed them into her home while Dade volunteered to see to their bags. But there was only a small valise, and Charlton insisted on handling it himself.
“We hadn’t intended to stay the night,” he said.
Then they surely wouldn’t take the news she had to share well. “Would you like a refreshment? I have coffee and tea.”
“Coffee would be most welcome,” Charlton said as he escorted his wife to an armless chair. “But my wife prefers tea.”
“I’ll see to it.” Maggie slipped into the kitchen, leaving Daisy stuck with playing hostess.
“Where is he?” Mrs. Charlton asked her.
Daisy hated to tell her, for while Trey’s mother might understand, she was certain Mr. Charlton would take a dim view of his decision. “He needed time to think, so he went off for a few days.”
“I see,” the lady said, disappointment etching deeper lines around her eyes and mouth. “We did arrive a day earlier than planned, so we can’t complain.”
Her husband snorted, living up to Daisy’s image of him being disagreeable. “When did he leave?”
She hesitated, for this news wouldn’t sit well with the gentleman. But there was no use in lying either, for the truth would surely come out.
“Five days ago,” she said.
To her surprise, Dade spoke up in Trey’s defense. “He tends to go off like this when something troubles him. He’ll be back as soon as he gets it straight in his mind.”
This time Daisy wasn’t convinced that he would. Trey surely had more than this reunion with his mother to worry over.
Daisy had given him an ultimatum, and while she still wouldn’t settle for less than his love, she realized now that she should have held off with such demands until he’d come to grips with his mother.
“And you are?” Mr. Charlton asked Dade.
“My brother,” Daisy said and was rewarded with a wide smile from Dade.
“Dade Logan,” he said and stuck out his hand. “I understand you bought the Crown Seven.”
Charlton accepted the handshake. “Indeed I did. So you’re the third foster brother. Reid told us about you.”
Dade gave a short laugh. “I’m sure that didn’t take long.”
The man didn’t so much as crack a smile. “He failed to tell us that Miss Barton was your sister.”
“He wouldn’t have known,” Dade said. “I’ve been searching for Daisy for years, but Trey was the one who found her.”
Charlton slid her a questioning look but didn’t say more. The man was certainly more guarded than when he’d visited her and Trey before.
“Reckon I’ll see to your horse and buggy,” Dade said, and left her alone with the couple.
“How wonderful that Trey was responsible for reuniting lost siblings,” Mrs. Charlton said.
“So we sit and wait for him to grace us with his presence ?” Mr. Charlton asked.
“That’s enough, Shelby,” Mrs. Charlton said. “After waiting this long to find my son, a day or two wait is nothing.”
“I’m not objecting to that,” he said. “The boy could have had the decency to wait for you to arrive. One look at this birthmark would’ve confirmed if he is or isn’t your son.”
And that was the whole issue, Daisy thought. The uncertainty. The chance that he would be faced with an emotional mother who was a stranger to him.
“Please, tell me about Trey,” Mrs. Charlton said, the longing in her voice so powerful that it brought tears to Daisy’s eyes.
How to begin? “He’s trustworthy. A hard worker and very knowledgeable about cattle and horses.”
The lady smiled. “His father had a fondness for horses.”
“Now Phoebe, you are setting yourself up for heartache should this man prove not to be your son,” her husband said, and for the first time Daisy saw that his gruff exterior was simply his means of protecting his wife from hurt.
Charlton had told them before that they’d searched for years to find Trey. How many young men had Phoebe met, certain each was the one, only to discover the birthmark she remembered her son having was either different or absent?
“My husband told me you’ve seen Trey’s birthmark,” she said. “Describe it, please.”
Daisy caught the warning look from Mr. Charlton, and for once agreed with the man. It’d be too easy for his wife to misinterpret Daisy’s description.
“I think it would be best if you described it to me,” Daisy said, and was rewarded with a barely discernable nod from the gentleman.
Yes, he was protecting his wife. She understood that and felt it was her duty to protect Trey as well. This way she could save them both grief if the mark didn’t match the one she knew so well.
Mrs. Charlton frowned, and Daisy didn’t know whether she was put out to have the tables turned on her, or if she was trying to find words to describe the birthmark. It shouldn’t be that difficult, for the mark on Trey’s nape was like nothing she’d ever seen before.
“It was reddish brown and in the shape of a teardrop,” Mrs. Charlton began, her voice small in the quiet room. “Below the point there was one raised red mark.”
Daisy sat back, trembling inside from the description of the mark Trey bore. “That’s unusual.”
“His father had one as well, but his was a bit lower. More on his shoulder.” She tugged her handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed her eyes. “I only got that one quick look at it before they took my son away.”
Daisy held back the questions bombarding her, though it wasn’t easy. There was surely more to tell here than the lady had divulged so far.
Charlton’s gaze lifted to Daisy’s. “Well, Miss Barton, does Trey March have such a mark?”
She couldn’t lie, for she’d give anything if her own child had lived. If she could have any memory of that life taken far too soon.
“Yes. It’s just as you described.”
The woman broke down then in uncontrollable sobs. Daisy hovered closer, unsure if she should offer comfort or give the woman privacy.
Mr. Charlton decided it for her. “Come, Phoebe. You need to lie down and rest. This has been too taxing for you.”
“Please. Take my room,” Daisy said, facing a new worry. If the woman’s health was that fragile, then seeing Trey could do her in.
She hoped Mrs. Charlton was simply overcome with emotion. She’d found her lost son. She was anxious to hold him in her arms, never mind that he was over six foot of strapping male.
To Mrs. Charlton, Trey March would always be the baby boy taken from her. She deserved her time alone with him, and he surely needed the same from his mother.
But how could Daisy possibly get her away from her overbearing husband?
Chapter 24
Trey had never spent a more miserable six days of his life. He’d sat for hours on end trying to dredge up those tender emotions that Daisy demanded. But he wasn’t sure if he was closer to his goal or right back where he started.
He wanted her. He got sick just thinking about living without her. When he let himself dwell on her losing their baby, he damned near went out of his mind.
But the one question he couldn’t answer was if he loved her.
On its heels came the worry of how she was dealing with her guests, for surely the Charltons and his foster brothers had arrived by now. They were likely chomping at the bit waiting for him to show up while he was trying to find the guts to saddle his horse and face his fate head-on.
Hellfire, cowpoke, just get your ass headed north. Take it like a man.
And when that talking to didn’t get him on his feet, he closed his eyes and saw Daisy needing him.
And when that talking to didn’t get him on his feet, he closed his eyes and saw Daisy needing him.
Trey was on his feet and to the door when the creak of wheels and the jingle of a harness reached his ears. His right hand hovered over his sidearm as he stepped back into the cool shadows of the adobe.
Somebody was coming by, and until he knew if he or she were friend or foe, he wasn’t showing his hand.
The creak of wheels grew louder, mingling with the clomp of hooves. But his heart was hammering so damned loud he barely heard them.
Just shy of the adobe, his visitor stopped. He flexed the fingers of his gun hand, steadied his breathing, drove every thought but survival from his mind.
“Trey? Are you in there?”
Daisy? Forget keeping his breath steady and his heart from nigh on pounding out of his chest. He’d dreamed of her coming to him every damned night, and she was finally here.
He stormed out the door and came up short. It was his Daisy all right, handling the reins of her buggy with ease despite her small size. Beside her huddled a woman even tinier and more delicate than Daisy.
An older woman.
Shit! She’d brought Mrs. Charlton here.
He flicked a gaze up the road but didn’t see anyone trailing her. “Where’s your brother?”
“Back at the ranch, likely cussing up a storm when they realized I hadn’t just taken Mrs. Charlton on a tour of the ranch.” She smiled at him, and the anger he tried to hold onto popped like a soap bubble. “You two need to talk, and you need to do it in private. You wouldn’t get that at the ranch.”
“Anybody know you were heading here?” he asked.
“Just Hollis, and he wouldn’t breathe a word.”
“Oh, my, you are a handsome boy,” the lady said, and just the sound of her voice jarred something buried deep inside him.
He sucked in a breath. Blew it out. And forced his legs to carry him to the buggy.
“I gather you’re Mrs. Charlton,” he said. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
The lady pressed a hand to her mouth. “You take after my side of the family, but you have his voice. Dear Lord, it is you.”
Before he could remind the lady about the birthmark Daisy claimed he had, the woman was reaching for him. And dammit all, but he took that fragile little woman in his arms and set her on her feet before him.
He opened his mouth to spout some quip, but his throat was too clogged to utter a sound. Just when he’d swallowed enough air to blow up, she slipped her arms around him and just pulled him against her.
The rightness of her embrace seeped into him, stealing his strength to resist her. His eyes burned. His chest felt too tight.
He could no more brush this off as an inconvenience any more than he could will the sun to stop shining.
“Please. Let me see the birthmark on your neck,” she said.
He took his hat off and went down on a knee before her. Her fingers moved like a whisper over his hair, parting it, touching a finger to his neck and setting off a skitter of sensations that he’d never felt before in his life.
Hell, there was no way a big oaf like him came from this tiny woman. Yet he felt the strength of will in her touch too. She was strong of spirit, but as much as he wanted to belong, the old hurt of abandonment wouldn’t let go of him.
She let out a sob and clutched at him. “It’s you. After all these years I’ve finally found my baby boy,” she said.
His breath got trapped inside him, and his heart hammered so hard the world spun. “You sure, Mrs. Charlton?”
“Oh, yes, yes.” Her voice trailed off, and she lost her grip.
He realized almost too late that she was about to faint and caught her up in his arms. She weighed hardly anything, he thought, as he carried her inside the adobe.
He didn’t realize Daisy was right beside him until he bent to set Mrs. Charlton on his bedroll. “Mrs. Charlton? Ma’am? Can I get you anything?”
Her eyelids fluttered, then her gaze fixed on his. She smiled, a contented pulling of her lips that made her teary eyes sparkle.
“I don’t know what came over me,” she said.
“A bit too much sun.” He glanced at Daisy, who merely smiled, her eyes sparkling with moisture too.
Mrs. Charlton lifted small hands to his face, the fingers delicately tracing the lines and contours as if memorizing them or assuring herself he was real. “Just finding you is all I needed, Thomas.”
“It’s Trey, ma’am.”
“Of course you wouldn’t know,” she said. “I had decided if you were a girl, you’d bear my mother’s name. If you were a boy, I’d name you after your father. Jeremy Thomas Warren, Jr.”
He swallowed hard and let that name sink into him. His real name that had been passed down a generation already.
“Because your father went by Jeremy, we’d decided to call you Thomas.” She wrinkled her nose. “I couldn’t abide hanging the name Junior on you or any of the other Southern monikers to denote such.”
“Can’t imagine being called that either,” he said, his voice sounding like sandpaper despite the deep breaths he took in. “How’d I end up in the Guardian Angel’s Orphan Asylum?”
She shook her head, and her lips quivered. “The midwife took you there. You see, my father hated Jeremy for siding with the North. He hated him for surviving the war when his only son had lost his life. When he’d lost his plantation, his way of life, my father refused to let me marry Jeremy, even after I got with child.”
He glanced at Daisy, who looked far too pale. Was she thinking how they’d fallen into a similar fate?
“Seems your pa got his way,” Trey said.
She gave a short nod, her lips pursed. “The month before you were born, Jeremy was to get leave from the army to come get me. We were to be married right away.”
Good God! He’d been wanted. Not just by a mother. But by his father as well.
“What happened to stop it?” he asked.
“My father was a horrible, bitter man who I am sure is burning in hell.” Mrs. Charlton bit her trembling lower lip and stared at her hands, letting silent tears fall. “As Jeremy was leaving his post, he was murdered. Shot down in cold blood. I suspect by my father’s orders.”
“How terrible,” Daisy said.
“I grieved so, but I clung to the fact I had you,” Mrs. Charlton said, and she smiled up at him. “But Father had heinous plans for you as well, and the trouble I had giving birth to you aided his cause.”
“How so?” he asked, taking her trembling hand in his.
She clutched his hand tightly, and the oddest warmth started to flow into him. Again, that sense of rightness took root, stronger this time. The feelings so new he shook inside.
“I held you for such a short time, then the midwife took you away so the doctor could tend to me,” she said. “I heard you cry once, then no more. They told me when I woke again that you’d died.”
“That was a damned lie,” he said.
She gave a bitter laugh. “I didn’t know that until ten years later when I happened upon the midwife in New York. She confessed to me then that Father had ordered her to take the baby and toss him in the river. But she couldn’t do it, so she boarded a northbound train, and then left you on the steps of an orphanage. She thought there you’d be safe from Father.”
“No name, just a note pinned on my blanket so they’d known when I was born. Trey March.”
“She didn’t tell me she’d done that,” she said. “The midwife’s memory was faulty by then, but she kept begging for my forgiveness. It was later that Shelby questioned the wisdom of believing her, for he suspected she’d done as my father wished and disposed of you.”
He’d have been of a mind to suspect the same thing. “Why’d you keep looking for me?”
“Because I knew in my heart that you were alive. I knew if I kept searching that I’d find you.” She smiled up at him through her glistening tears. “And I did. I’ve finally found my son.”
He bobbed his own head, not trusting his voice any longer. His throat had closed up again with emotion he couldn’t name.
Daisy shifted closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder and a hand on his back. He smiled at the two little women comforting him.
This felt right. Good.
Warmth stole over him, like he’d stood too close to the fire. A comforting warmth that made him feel like he belonged. That he finally had a past that was real.
He was Phoebe Charlton’s lost son. Not the boy tossed aside like garbage because his mother hadn’t wanted him. Not a bastard out of choice.
Nope, she’d hurt along with him all these years, and he hadn’t known it. Now that he did, he didn’t want this moment to end.
He wanted to savor this peace and sense of rightness for a long time. However he didn’t want to get stranded here with the women tonight either.
“Much as I enjoy sitting here with you two,” he said, feeling more light of spirit than he had in his life, “we’d best head back to the ranch.”
Time to face the last obstacle in his life and make peace with his foster brothers. And Daisy. He still had to give her the answer she expected, the answer that was still eluding him.
Daisy, Trey and his mother made it back to the Circle 46 before dusk. Reid and Dade were just coming up the lane, and the dark looks they wore were proof that they were worried about Daisy’s whereabouts.
“I knew you went to him,” Dade said, seeming none too pleased about it.
Daisy piped up before he could. “I thought it best that he have a private reunion with his mother.”
Dade and Reid shared a look. But it was Reid who spoke to Trey.
“I’m glad you found out the truth,” he said. “I know how much it bothered you all these years. You all right with it now?”
Trey nodded. “I’m getting there.”
“Now that you’re back, the three of us need to talk,” Reid said, his commanding tone making it clear that it couldn’t wait.
Shit, all he wanted to do now was get Daisy aside and talk to her. But that’d have to wait.
In too short a time, he went from having no family in his life to having way too damned much. His brothers wouldn’t rest until they’d had this long overdue powwow.
“Take Mrs. Charlton on to the house,” Trey told Daisy.
She gave each of them a pointed look. “You’ll be along shortly?”
“Soon as we can,” Reid said, and Trey didn’t gainsay him.
Daisy gave Trey one last longing look, then snapped the lines and guided her buggy down the lane.
The three men sat their horses in silence, each taking the other’s measure. Reid looked his old self, assured and dominant of his surroundings.
Dade hung back, observant as usual.
“Charlton extended the deadline on the Crown Seven,” Reid said. “If you want, you can buy back your shares. But know this. Erston sold off thousands of acres, reducing the Crown Seven to a third of what it used to be.”
Trey barked out a laugh. “You expect either of us to forget that you betrayed us and Kirby?”
Reid winced, but held his gaze steady on his brothers. “I know it looked that way, but if I hadn’t agreed to Erston’s terms,” he went on when Dade swore and Trey scoffed, “he would’ve ruined Kirby, seen me hanged for a murder I didn’t commit, and swear you’d both been rustling.”
“He tried to do that to us anyway,” Trey said.
“So I heard,” Reid said, then shook his head. “You can’t imagine how damned much I regretted letting Kirby, and both of you, down. It took me years, but I found the true killer and cleared my name. I found a good woman, but I lost the only family I had.”
“You didn’t lose us,” Dade said. “Kirby died believing that the three of us would stay strong. Stay a family.”
“We still could be, if we can put the past behind us and join forces again,” Reid said, staring first at Dade, then at Trey.
To Trey’s surprise, Dade spoke up first. “Much as I enjoyed growing up there, I’ll pass.”
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