Dorothy Garlock - [Colorado Wind 03] (12 page)

“Do you mind?”

“Why should I? Mr. Wisner thinks we’ll catch up with a train going to Denver in a few days.”

“Is that where you’re going?”

“That’s where Mr. Wisner and Mary Ben are going. We’re going north to Greeley, then west.”

“West? West to Junction City?”

“Have you been there?”

“A time or two. Why are you going to Junction City?”

“Aunt Ellie has a brother-in-law there. She wants Henry to be near his kin.”

There was a long silence while Kain’s thoughts raced and collided in wild disorder. Henry had reminded him of someone that first day he had seen him. Earlier that night, the way he had laughed had a familiar ring to it. Could it be? Was it possible that Henry was related to Cooper Parnell or Adam Clayhill?

“Who was Henry’s father?” he asked quietly.

“Henry Hill. He lived in Chicago. We should go back. Aunt Ellie wants to talk to you and we need to get some sleep.” She looked back toward the wagons. He did not speak or move. She sensed his eyes on her, willing her to look at him.

“Will you walk out and talk to me again?”

Happiness surpassed her surprise. “Will you ride out if I don’t?”

“No. I’m not trying to bribe you. I wouldn’t want you to come if you didn’t want to.”

“Do you think we could talk, without quarreling?” Laughter quivered in her voice.

His hand came out and stroked the hair falling over her shoulder. “I don’t know, my fiery redhead. We may quarrel, but even that’s better than not talking at all.” He paused, then said in a different tone, “I’ve never met a woman as fascinating as you.”

He felt laughter shake her. “Don’t you mean irritating?”

“That too.”

Kain searched her face and found her smiling radiantly at him. For a long moment he stood there looking at her. Then reason dissolved the hunger to wrap her in his arms and kiss her, to know the joy of having her body pressed against him, her firm breasts against his chest, small round buttocks in his hands. He gripped her elbow and urged her toward the wagon before his torment broke his control.

Suddenly he was determined to cram a lifetime of happiness into the few short weeks it would take to reach Junction City. He would see her and the Hills settled, and after that he would simply disappear.

The thought of her in the years to come with another man was like a knife turning in him. His fingers tightened on her elbow as they walked silently back to the camp.

Ellie wasted no time getting right to the point.

“I’m frightened, Mr. DeBolt. I—we didn’t realize this was such a rough, harsh land. We can’t cope. We simply can’t cope! Oh, Vanessa and Henry can manage the wagon, the mules and all, but it’s this . . . lawlessness.” Her voice shook and nearly broke. “I have a little money. The farm was Vanessa’s, and . . . we plan to use that money to start a small bakery if Junction City doesn’t already have one. All I have is money from dressmaking and nursing the sick. It’s yours, every cent of it, if you’ll see us to our destination.”

In her anxiety to have Kain travel with them, Ellie was unaware that she was disclosing the very thing that had been a shame to her. All of these years she and her son had lived on her brother-in-law’s charity. It was true that she had raised his daughter and cared for his home, but it was charity nonetheless.

“I don’t want your money, Mrs. Hill, but I could do with a meal now and then. A constant diet of beans and sowbelly is hard on the stomach,” he admitted with a dry smile.

“I
can
cook. It’s one of the things I do best.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“You’ll stay with us?”

“My being with you won’t guarantee your safety.”

“Oh, I know that! But I’ll be ever so grateful to have you along. And, Mr. DeBolt, don’t be offended by Vanessa’s sharp tongue. She’s worried and frightened, too, but she doesn’t want me and Henry to know it.”

“I’m surprised that a woman as beautiful as Vanessa is unmarried.”

“She had plenty of beaus back in Springfield. One of the wealthiest men in the county wanted to marry her. I’m afraid that . . . Henry and I were a liability to Vanessa.”

“How is that?”

“Vanessa’s mother died shortly after she was born. Vanessa thinks of me as her mother. She and Henry are like brother and sister. People can be . . . unkind about Henry, and Vanessa will not tolerate that.”

“Did she love that man?” Anxiety tore through him, choking his voice.

“She said she didn’t.” A girlish spurt of laughter broke from Ellie’s lips. “She said he made her want to . . . puke.”

Kain smiled and stroked the stubble on his chin. “Sounds like something she would say. Mrs. Hill, Vanessa said that Henry has kinfolk in Junction City. I’ve been there a time or two. Maybe I know the party you’re looking for.”

“Good heavens! Wouldn’t it be grand if you did? Do you know Adam Hill? My husband, Henry, who died before young Henry was born, told me about his brother in Colorado. He said he was an important man and owned the largest ranch in the territory, it was Adam who wrote me and told me that friends of Henry’s had notified him his brother had been killed. I had written to him to see if he knew what happened to Henry. I guess Henry’s friends in Chicago didn’t know about me.”

“I don’t know anyone named Hill, though I’m not saying there aren’t some there. Is that the only time you heard from your husband’s brother?”

“Yes. I guess you think I’m foolish to go there on the strength of that one letter. But Henry told me such wondering things about his brother. Young Henry is the image of his father, and so I thought perhaps his uncle, if he is still living, or cousins, would take a liking to him.”

“Speaking of Henry, he should know how to shoot a gun and how to defend himself, Mrs. Hill.”

“Oh, I know, but . . . Henry is limited as to what he can do. I appreciate—”

“Perhaps he hasn’t reached that limit yet. Forgive me for being blunt, but it seems to me you and Vanessa have sheltered him too much.”

“We were afraid—”

“Afraid to give him responsibility? I can understand that. He obeyed orders tonight. In that respect he’s more responsible than Vanessa.”

“I’ve been thinking about that. Henry has never known the companionship of a man. If his father had lived . . .”

“You’d better get some sleep, Mrs. Hill.”

“Yes, I will. Thank you, Mr. DeBolt.”

“Kain, ma’am. I’d be pleased if you called me Kain.”

*  *  *

Kain stretched out on his bedroll well back from the wagons, rested his head on his folded arms and looked up at the stars. His mind was too busy to record the sound of a coyote calling to his mate or her answer echoing in the stillness. He was filled with a quiet unrest as his thoughts raced. Was it possible that Adam Clayhill had a brother who had called himself Henry Hill? Adam was a common enough name and so was Hill. It was the fact that Henry looked so much like Cooper, Adam’s son, that set Kain’s mind to wondering if Henry Hill could have been Henry Clayhill. But, he reasoned, Ellie said she had had a letter from Adam Hill.

Kain turned restlessly in his bed. If Adam Clayhill were Henry’s uncle, Mrs. Hill would find no sympathy for her son there. Adam was the most ruthless and bigoted man he’d ever known. If he despised his own son because of his Indian blood, he would heartily despise this naive young man with a limited intelligence.

Henry looked enough like him to be his nephew, Kain thought. He also looked enough like Cooper to be his brother. The Clayhills seemed to have strong family characteristics. Logan Horn, Adam’s Indian son, had said Adam Clayhill resembled his brother who had raised Logan. Poor Mrs. Hill. She and her son should have stayed in Missouri. On the heels of that thought came another: if they had, he would not have met Vanessa.

His reverie turned to her and the way she had smiled at him earlier. Her warm gaze had reached some longing deep within him, secret even from himself. Nothing in his life had geared him for love, for home and family. He had thought about it sometimes as he went his lonely way, but always as something other men had.

With a woman like Vanessa to love, protect and build a life around, a man would be king. But why think of that now? It was too late.

*  *  *

The succeeding days would have been the happiest of Kain’s life if not for the shadow of death that hung over him. He did not feel like a dying man. His mind had accepted the verdict and filed it away in some secret part of his brain so that it didn’t keep him from enjoying the warmth of the sun or the taste of the cool night wind. He felt better than he had in weeks and the pains did not bother him so much. Once, when they came suddenly, viciously, he rode away by himself, retched, and found blood on his lips. While he waited to get his strength back, the lonely spot in his heart ached for warmth, for love.

Each morning he woke with a sensation of excitement about another day to spend with Vanessa. Sometimes they rode together, and at other times he rode beside the wagon while Vanessa drove the team. It seemed as if they had, by mutual consent, dropped their rapiers and were now able to engage in light conversation. Kain and John chose the campsites, and Vanessa seemed to be pleased to relinquish some of the responsibility.

Each evening, while Ellie and Mary Ben prepared the evening meal, Kain spent time with Henry. First he taught him how to break down the rifle and clean it. Then he taught him how to load and shoot it. Kain was painstakingly patient and discovered that Henry’s mind grasped the mechanics of the weapon much faster than it did the actual aiming and firing of the gun.

One evening, while out of sight of the others, Kain suddenly turned, hooked his foot behind Henry’s knees, and threw him to the ground. Stunned, Henry looked up at him with eyes filled with disappointment.

“What did I do, Kain? Why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad.” He reached for his hand and hauled him to his feet. “I just wanted to show you how fast you can knock a man off his feet if you know how. Do you want to learn?”

“I don’t like to hurt people.”

“That bully back in Dodge was trying to hurt you. Didn’t you want to fight back?”

“I didn’t know how.”

“I can show you.”

“Do you think I can learn?”

“Of course you can. You can learn to do anything you want to do if you try hard enough.”

“I don’t like to fight.”

“I don’t either, but if someone picks a fight, I fight back and try and get it over with as soon as I can. There are several places where you can hit a man that will lay him low. Here, I’ll show you.”

At first Henry was reluctant to use his strength against Kain, but after several sessions he began to enjoy the bouts. The first time he hooked Kain behind the knees and threw him to the ground, Henry whooped with laughter.

*  *  *

Four days after Kain started riding openly with Vanessa’s party, they came to the forks of the Arkansas River and Big Sandy Creek. A train of six wagons taking the Big Sandy route to Denver were camped there, farmers from Ohio seeking new land. The train moved out the next morning in spite of John’s warning about Indian trouble in that area.

“Damn know-it-alls,” John snorted as he watched them pull out. “They’ll get them women ’n kids killed is what they’ll do.”

“Maybe,” Kain said. “But what can you do?”

“Nothin’.”

Kain had taken an immense liking to the gray-haired old man who had spent his life on the Plains. He was a thoroughly skeptical old wolf who let his sight and his instincts ferret things out, and then acted according to what was necessary at the time.

“What made you strike out after the Hills and Vanessa, John?” They were each leading a span of mules to the water Henry and Mary Ben were behind them with John’s team.

“Well, now, it was jist a idey I had. I knowed they was nice folks, quality folks. I knowed they’d no more trail sense than a pissant. More than that I figgered twas time Mary Ben met up with some quality womenfolk.”

“How long has she been with you?”

“Two, three year, I reckon. Some fellers told me a wild gal was alivin’ in a cave down ’long the Canadian River. I figgered I ain’t ne’er seen no wild gal ’n I’d jist mosey on down to get me a look-see. What I found was a scared little ole gal what was pert near starved to death. ’Er pa’d run off ’n left her ’n her ma. ’Er ma’d died. The poor little mite buried ’er all by ’er ownself. It was plumb pitiful. She’d been ahidin’ out from drifters ’n the like. It took me a spell jist to get in talkin’ range. I put out some grub n’ them vittles was mighty temptin’ to the youngun. I couldn’t leave ’er or jist set ’er off somewheres. She been with me since.”

“It seems like she and Henry have taken to each other,” Kain said after a spurt of soft, girlish laughter came from behind them.

“I ain’t ne’er heard her laugh till jist lately. It’s plumb purty to hear,” John said proudly. “She’s agoin’ to hate leavin’ these folks.” He watched the mules slurp the water thirstily.

“Did you have it in mind to ask them to take Mary Ben?”

“No. I ain’t had no notion to do that. It’d be a horse of a different color if’n they was to ask. I do get to worryin’ ’bout her some. She’d had it hard, awful hard. She don’t know nothin’ a’tall ’bout town livin’.”

“Are you thinking to kick the bucket pretty soon, old man?” Kain asked with a teasing grin.

“I aim to put it off long’s I can,” John answered staunchly. “Still, it’d be peaceful on my mind if’n Mary Ben had folks who’d look after ’er.”

“How would it set with you to come along to Junction City?”

“I give it thought when twas said the womenfolk was agoin’ there. Ya reckon there’d be work?”

“I thought you wanted to try your hand at panning for gold down along Cripple Creek?”

“Naw! Why’d I want to freeze my arse off fer a nugget or two ’n pay it all out fer beans ’n bacon? ’Sides, a gold camp ain’t no fit place fer Mary Ben.”

Kain sent a smooth stone dancing across the sunlit water. Everyone needed someone, he thought. This rusty-voiced old man needed something to love and care for, and he had found it in the young girl who had no one.