Debra Holland (17 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Ant left the parsonage, strode around the church and into the street. He’d spent more time with the Nortons then he’d intended
. I hope David’s still asleep. Widow Murphy will skewer me if he’s anywhere near her.

A man riding a brown Appaloosa saw him, hesitated, and then reined in. With one finger he shoved his black Stetson back a bit so Ant could see his face. “Mr. Gordon?”

“Yes.” He studied the unfamiliar rider whom he didn’t recognize. A younger man with green eyes, a slightly crooked nose, and freckles under his tan.

 
“Nick Sanders. You’ve met my wife, Elizabeth.”

Ant recalled the beautiful blonde who’d helped him strategize where to look for David. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Sanders. Rode out to your ranch the other day, but missed you. Met your wife, though.” As Ant spoke, he wondered what there was about this man to appeal to the beautiful Elizabeth.

“Not in the habit of stopping strangers, but the word’s out you’ve found your boy.”
 

 
“Yes.” Ant couldn’t help but grin. “Sure did.”

“We were mighty glad to hear the news.”

What is it with small towns? Word of mouth spreads faster than a newspaper.

“Thank you. I appreciate your wife’s help.”

“You might not have heard...being so busy with your search. We’re going to have a....”

A?
Ant raised his eyebrow in inquiry.

“What feels like a circus is arriving tomorrow on the train.”

Circus?

 
“But really it’s the contents of my wife’s former home. Almost lock, stock, and barrel. Her sister-in-law made a clean sweep.” He grimaced. “My wife’s happy about it though, and that makes me happy.”

Ant laughed. “I’m sure it does.”

Color crept up Nick’s neck. “I’ve lined up a bunch of men with wagons to haul everything out. The wives want to get involved too.” He shrugged. “The ladies have come up with the idea of an unpacking party.”

And your point is?

“Afterward, food, music, dancing. You and your boy would be welcomed.”

Ah
. Ant couldn’t resist a little teasing. “So you saw me and thought, there’s a fine, big fellow,” he drawled. “Bet he could carry a lot. Make short work of the job so we could all get to partyin’.”

Sanders flushed a little. “Yes. No,” he stuttered to a stop.

Ant took pity on him. “I’ll be glad to lend you my back.”

“Doesn’t sound neighborly, does it, to invite you to work before you even know us?”

“Sounds like the best part of neighborly, Sanders. I’ve seen enough of this town to know you already have plenty of people to help out. You don’t need me. But the invitation is just what I need since I’m thinking of parking us in Sweetwater Springs.”

The man smiled with shy charm. Ant could see how he might have won the fair Elizabeth.

“My wife will be pleased to hear you’re coming.”

 
“Sounds like your work party will be good for David.”

“Guess he can carry some light packages.”

Ant thought back to yesterday. Unless David had an overnight change, he wouldn’t be helping. He gave a slow shake of his head. “I’d best find someone to watch him.”

“I’m sure Miss Stanton will. If she’s not up to it, I’m sure Mrs. Rodriguez will. She has a boy about your David’s age, then went and adopted three more strays. Turned them into a good little family.

 
“I’ll have to ask her advice. David’s not comfortable with me yet. I wouldn’t put it past him to hightail away.”

Nick’s gaze sharpened. He studied Ant as if seeing him with new eyes. “I think that might have already happened. Saw a boy heading out as I rode in.” He pointed the direction. “Skinny. Looks a bit like you. Blue shirt. Didn’t think anything of it. But now I realize I didn’t know him and I know most of the children hereabouts.”

Ant bit off a curse.
 
“My thanks.”

He spun around, heading for the livery. Fear and anger drove him to quickly saddle Shadow, mount the horse and ride after David. Hopefully, the boy was headed for the shack he knew as home. For if he wasn’t, Ant might have a hard time finding him again. And who knew what might befall a boy alone on the mountain?

* * *

David had long since abandoned his socks and boots on the side of the trail. They’d rubbed blisters before he’d gone very far. Now he trotted up the trail, comfortable in bare feet, unless he stepped on a sharp rock or stick. But he had plenty of experience in picking out the smoothest ground.

He neared the clearing with the cabin he and his father had lived in, then through long practice, veered into the forest along the side, trotting up a faint game trail that he’d used on his explorations, for the first time realizing he didn’t have to dread going “home.” He had plenty of other things worryin’ at him though, and he needed space to think—a place that didn’t have big men, old biddies, and pretty schoolteachers anywhere around.

He came to the edge of the cliff, and, with a sigh of relief, set himself down, dangling his legs over the side. He studied the rocks below carefully, looking for his pa’s body, half wanting to see him dead, half glad not to see any sign of him.

David allowed the sight of the water moving over rocks to calm him. As always, he came here to escape, even if he did have to eventually go back. He’d fantasized plenty about following that river and had come very close a time or two. He’d also come close to jumping, but something had always held him back. He didn’t know what.

Despair settled on his shoulders, as heavy as a coat of rocks. At least with Pa, he’d known what to expect. Could avoid him most of the time. His pa rarely searched for him. He had a feeling the stranger wouldn’t let him off so easy.

He needed to do something, and now was the time. For sure as shootin’, the big man would find him if he stayed here long.

* * *

Ant stood back through the trees just far enough away to see David but not spook the boy. His hand rested on the rough bark of a pine tree. He didn’t want a wrong move on his part to startle his nephew off the cliff. His heart pounded from the hurried climb from the shack to the top of the cliff and from the fear he felt just watching the skinny back of his nephew. One slip…

He made himself take some deep breaths to slow down his heart. David obviously was familiar with this spot, and he could move like a mountain goat. Charging after the boy might be the worst thing he could do. David had experienced enough anger and meanness from his father. From his uncle he’d need strength and patience.

Ant surveyed the pine needle strewn ground, searching for twigs that might snap under his feet. He had no illusions about getting into the open without David hearing him. Now would be a good time to be an Indian, wearing moccasins, able to move silently through the forest without leaving any sign of his presence. But he’d have to settle for giant feet in boots not meant for hiking.

Might as well make the attempt.
By the time he reached the clearing, he knew David had heard him, but the boy didn’t turn around, nor did he try to get up and run. Instead, his back stiffened, but that was the only sign that David sensed his uncle’s presence.

Somehow that frightened Ant even more. Is he thinking of going over the edge?

Please, God.
Ant wasn’t a praying man. Hadn’t been one since Isabella’s death, but for the precious life of his nephew, he’d bargain with the Almighty.
 

He thought a moment.
What do I have to bargain with?
He’d already decided that he and David would be going to church on Sundays. He didn’t know what else to give up.
Please, keep him rooted on that edge, and I promise I’ll stay here in Sweetwater Springs.

“David,” he called softly. “It’s Uncle Ant.”

The boy flinched, but didn’t turn.

Ant walked over until he stood next to David, then folded himself down to sit next to him. With an inward sigh, he eased his legs over the side of the cliff.
 

Now what?

A gentle breeze caressed his face.
Just sit here with him
, it seemed to say.

Not a bad thing to do.

Ant focused on the water far below. The scene from yesterday jumped into his mind … Lewis lying there, dead. He wondered what had become of the man’s body. The searchers Mack had sent had found no sign of him. Maybe his body had washed away or a cougar dragged him off to feed her young. Ant particularly liked that idea.
 

An eagle soared off the cliff, not too far away from them. From the corner of his eye, he noticed David watching, but he didn’t want to turn his head to see if there was any sign of life in the boy’s eyes.

They sat in silence for a long time. Ant could feel his heartbeat slow and his breathing relax.

“I’ve been searching for you for two years, David.” He made his voice gentle. “I never stopped. I’m only sorry it took me so long to find you.”

David didn’t say anything, but Ant felt him listening, which was a vast improvement from yesterday.

“Sometimes I just missed you and your father by days. Once…” Ant had to stop because something lodged in his throat, remembering the anger and despair he’d felt about coming so close, only to have Lewis evade him and slip out of town, stowing away, he’d later learned, in the boxcar on a train. “Once I almost had you.”

David twitched a shoulder.

“I’d like you to make your home with me. I think you’ve already seen that you’ll be well fed and have clothes. Go to school. Have friends.”

The boy hunched his shoulders.
 

“We’re going to stay here. The people are kind.” He half laughed. “Well, maybe not Mrs. Murphy. But soon we’ll have our own house and won’t live with her. You’ll even have a room all to yourself.”

David’s shoulders relaxed.

“I want to show you something.” Ant reached in his pocket and pulled out the photograph of Emily and David. He handed it over. “Look inside.”

David fingered the flap, before opening it and staring at the picture.
 

Ant watched him, trying to figure out what the boy was thinking.
 

David touched his forefinger to Emily’s face.

“Your mother, Emily.”

David pointed to himself in the photograph.
 

“That’s you. You were about five.”

David abruptly shut the flap and pushed the photograph at Ant.
 

Ant took it back. “Whenever you want to look at this, David, you let me know. Anytime you want.”

The boy shook his head.

“David, you’ll be safe with me. I promise.”

The boy appeared to watch the river down below and didn’t turn his head.

Ant suppressed a sigh.
Patience
, he reminded himself. His stomach rumbled, and he remembered the lack of breakfast.

“Bet you didn’t eat before you ran off. You hungry?” Ant didn’t wait for an answer. “I sure am. Let’s go get us some food. I have some peppermint sticks for you. You can have them after breakfast.”

David gave him a quick glance.

Ah, that got your attention.

Ant slid his backside away from the cliff and got to his feet, but he squatted down, ready to grab David if he so much as teetered. But the boy rose to his feet in a smooth motion that showed he had a lot of practice.

Ant tilted his head in the direction of the shack where he’d left Shadow. “Sooner we get going, the sooner we eat.”

David nodded his understanding and led the way, his scrawny body fitting through gaps in the trees that Ant had to squeeze through or go around. As they walked across the clearing, Ant felt his stomach relax, as if a knot he hadn’t known was there had untied. He’d just crossed a small bridge with David.
 

Just the first one, though. Just the first one.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Harriet stood with a group of women, elderly men, and children in the shade of the mercantile, David at her side, trying not to put weight on her bad ankle. They watched the men unload wooden crates from the train that held the possessions of Elizabeth Hamilton Sanders. An air of excitement buzzed through the crowd. Harriet doubted Sweetwater Springs had ever seen such a show. The women gossiped and kept an eye on the children so they didn’t get underfoot.

Wyatt Thompson’s wagon was parked on the street in front of the train depot, one of his ranch hands holding the reins of the team. Behind him and out of the way, five other wagons waited in a row. Men scurried like ants hauling crumbs, working to unload the train so it could take off.

The pile of boxes on the landing grew bigger. Harriet tried to shut out the sounds of the people around her speculating what might be in them. She didn’t want to know.

“Look at the triangle shape of that box,” Abe
 
Maguire cackled. “Bet that’s a piany.”