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Authors: Marjorie Farrell

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BOOK: Journey of the Heart
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Gabe only drawled: “It was nothing. I hadn’t had the pleasure of a waltz with Miss Burke and I wanted to congratulate her on her engagement. Congratulations to both of you,” he added and then, giving Cait a reassuring smile, he left them.

As he walked away, it felt as though all the strength that had been holding her up walked away with him and Cait grasped Henry’s arm and said, “Where is that punch you were getting for me, Henry? I am dizzy from all this waltzing.”

* * * *

“I saw you dancing with Miss Burke, Chavez,” said Mackie who had followed his man outside after the waltz.


Si, señor
. She is a graceful dancer, Señorita Burke. It is too bad we were interrupted by Hart. But not before I had a chance to have a little talk with her,” he added reassuringly.

“You didn’t say anything obvious, did you? Nothing that would implicate me?”

“I am never obvious,
señor
. I just told her what she already knows: that her father has worked hard for what he has and it would be sad to see anything of his harmed.”

“Good, good, Chavez,” said Mackie, dropping his cigarette and grinding it out with his boot. “Maybe that is all we will need. A few poisoned sheep and a frightened daughter should convince Burke I mean business.”

“Let us hope so,” replied Chavez. And oddly enough he meant it, he realized. He wanted Burke to give in to Mackie now. He was a strong man and Chavez admired strong men. But there was a time to bend and this was that time. Bend or be broken, Señor Burke, he thought to himself. I can help break you, but for some reason I don’t want to. I just want you gone, together with that wife of yours.

 

Chapter Twelve

 

Usually Cait slept late on the morning after a dance, but on this Sunday she awoke at dawn after only a few hours of sleep and was unable to go back to sleep. As the sun rose, it threw a shaft of light through her window that fell on one of Serena’s weavings. It had been a gift for one of Cait’s birthdays. It was unusual in that it was not done in a geometric pattern, but was a picture woven into the wool. There were mountains in the background and in the foreground a small house and three people and a horse in front of it. It was her Da and Ma and herself and Frost, Da’s old mare. Serena and Antonio had only visited the ranch once, years ago, and it was after that Serena wove her present. When she was younger, Cait had always knelt to say her prayers at bedtime and she had always looked up at that picture when she prayed for her parents and herself. The picture made her feel safe and it was one of the few things from home that she had brought to school with her. If only she could be that little girl again, the one Serena had woven holding hands with her Ma and Da. Times had not always been easy for them on the ranch, but there had always been enough to eat and she had been surrounded by love.

The love was still there, of course. But could love alone keep them all safe when men like Chavez and Mackie threatened? They’d have to kill her Da to get him off the ranch, she thought, and then said a quick prayer, “Please God, keep my Da safe.”

She’d come home thinking she’d found a clear purpose: she would be the best wife to Henry and the best teacher Fayreweather’s had ever hired. She’d known it wouldn’t be easy to leave, but she’d thought she’d be leaving it as it always was. How could she leave with Henry if nothing was settled? Or even worse, if things were settled the way Mackie wanted them?

They’ll have to give it up, she said to herself. Da won’t sell and they won’t risk out and out murder, please God. Mackie will just have to be satisfied with what he has now.

* * * *

“You look tired, Cait,” said Henry when she came down later for breakfast.

“She looks like a young woman who didn’t sit down for one dance, doesn’t she, Elizabeth?” joked Michael.

Cait gave him a tired smile and said, “You’re right, Da, it was a wonderful evening.”

“Except for your dance with that Mexican,” said Henry sympathetically.

Cait gave him an angry glance, and his eyes showed his hurt surprise. “I’m sorry, Henry,” she whispered. It wasn’t his fault, after all, for she hadn’t told him to say nothing.

“What Mexican, Cait?” her father asked.

“It was nothing, Da. Señor Chavez surprised me by requesting a waltz. It didn’t seem wise to offend him so I said yes. And it was a short dance, because Mr. Hart cut in.”

“I was caught by the refreshments or I would have rescued her, sir,” explained Henry, his face pink with embarrassment that a hired hand had done what he should have as Cait’s fiancé.

“There was nothing to rescue me from, Henry,” said Cait, trying to make Sight of the whole thing. “Señor Chavez was polite and acted the complete gentleman.”

“ ‘Acted’ is probably the right word,” said Michael, “for there is no one further from being a gentleman than Juan Chavez. You are
sure
he did nothing to upset you, Cait?”

“Absolutely, Da.”

“I still don’t like it. And I don’t want you ridin’ alone, even on the ranch. I know ye hate feelin’ hemmed in, but humor yer old Da for now, will ye? Ye’ll be out of it soon enough when Henry comes back for you.”

Michael didn’t seem to notice that Cait had not protested, but Elizabeth did and she wondered if her daughter had given them the whole truth. She would happily shoot Nelson Mackie through the heart, right then and there. He represented everything that was wrong in the West: the uncontrollable greed that had forced the Navajo and other tribes off their land. Now that the Indians had been confined to reservations, the likes of Mackie were after the small landholders. She had heard of cattle corporations in Wyoming and Montana and knew that men like Catron and Mackie were not one of a kind. But she had never dreamed their evil would penetrate the peace of the valley.

It was odd, she thought, that it had not been Chavez in the sights of her imaginary rifle. Certainly a man who served evil had to be evil himself. But she was more disturbed by him than furious at him. Her fury was roused more by Mackie’s hypocrisy. He loosed men like Chavez on innocent folk and stood back until the duty work was done. Then he took what he wanted. Well, he was not going to win this time, she thought. The only way he would walk into her home was over her dead body. She had already lost her parents and her brother to such violence and greed. Nightmares or no nightmares, she would not let it happen again.

* * * *

When Jake handed her their mail two days later, Elizabeth was surprised to find a letter addressed to Gabe Hart. The return address said S.E. Hart, Amarillo, Texas. This must be from his sister, she thought, and was happy to see that Gabe had someone who cared about him. There were so many young men who worked as cowboys and wranglers out west, thought Elizabeth sadly. Making almost nothing in daily wages, riding for one outfit and then another. She and Michael had hired one from time to time when they needed help with the shearing or repairs around the ranch. They’d work hard, say ‘yes, ma’am, no, ma’am,’ to her with great respect and ride on. When he had first arrived, Gabe Hart had seemed no different. But as she watched him work with the horses and had gotten used to his quiet ways, she’d begun to think that he was one of the rare ones, who wanted to find a place to settle down. Perhaps even wanted a woman to love.

Elizabeth laughed to herself. Now she was getting carried away by the romantic side of her nature.

Her daughter was out watering the flowers with the last of the dishwater and Elizabeth waved the letter at her. “Cait, could you do me a favor and bring this to Mr. Hart?”

“Yes, Ma.” Cait brought the bucket over and wiped her hands dry on her old dress. She took the envelope from her mother and looked it over curiously.

“Now, don’t be nosy, just bring it down to him,” teased Elizabeth.

“Yes, Ma. Right away, Ma,” responded Cait in an obedient child’s voice.

“I think it is from his sister,” Elizabeth confided.

“Ma! Just who is being curious, I want to know.”

“Oh, hush, I just looked at the return address.”

Cait read it aloud. “S.E. Hart. Maybe it is not his sister but a wife he left in Texas and never told us about,” Cait said, with a laugh and headed for the barn. It was a joke, of course. She was sure Gabe Hart had no wife and he had already talked about his sister. And why should she care anyway, whether Gabe Hart had a woman in his life?

Gabe was in the tack room oiling the bridles. A thin shaft of sunlight made his hair shine that bright silver that was so striking against his tan.

“A letter came for you, Mr. Hart,” Cait said from the tack room door.

He looked up from his work with a hunger in his eyes that surprised and moved her. She handed him his letter and watched as he turned it over and read the postmark. A rare smile lit his face. “It is from my little sister,” he said. “She always manages to track me down.”

“She must have had some help, Mr. Hart, unless she has herself a private detective,” Cait teased.

Gabe laughed. “You’re right, Miss Burke. I always make sure she can find me.” He looked down at the letter longingly and Cait said quickly, “I hope your sister is well, Mr. Hart,” and left him to his reading. She was surprised at the wave of sympathy that had come over her when she saw how important his sister was to him.

* * * *

Sadie was well, thank goodness, thought Gabe. And so were the boys. Though, as she said, they were no longer boys but young men and quite able to survive on their own for a month or so. Which was why she was writing:

 

I have saved enough money from my teacher’s pay to do a little traveling. I’ve missed you all these years, Gabe. It isn’t right that we haven’t seen each other for so long, so I’m coming to visit you whether you like it or not! Well, of course I hope you want to see me as much as I want to see you. I’m planning to take the stage from Amarillo and should arrive in two weeks’ time. I can pay for my own room and board, so if you find me a place in town I won’t crowd you any.

Your loving sister,

Sadie

 

Sadie coming to visit! He hadn’t seen her in ten years. She’d be a woman grown now, a woman who’d been working hard, teaching and keeping house for the boys. Did he want to see her as much as she wanted to see him? Lord, did he want to see her. She’d always made him feel that he did have family who cared for him even though he had to leave. Even though he’d never gone home.

And even if he didn’t want to see her, it was too late, he realized with a grin. Sadie had sent the letter just so it would reach him ahead of time, but not so as he could write and tell her not to come! So he guessed she hadn’t changed much, that little sister of his. Now where was she going to stay? He’d have to get working on that right away.

Elizabeth was just setting her bread to rise when she heard a knock on the door. She put a damp towel over the loaves and wiping her hands on her apron, went to the door.

“Why, hello, Gabe.” She was surprised to see him in the middle of the day, for he usually kept himself busy with the horses and other chores until suppertime. Elizabeth fought down her sudden panic. “Nothing is wrong, is there, Gabe?”

“Oh, no, ma’am. I am sorry to disturb you like this, but I need some advice.”

Elizabeth, who hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath, let it out with a sigh. “Of course. Come in, Gabe, and sit down. I was just about to have some lemonade. Would you like some or would you rather coffee?”

“Lemonade sounds just fine, ma’am.”

“It’s in the cellar, I’ll be right back.”

Gabe sat down at the kitchen table. There was a jelly glass full of flowers from the garden in the middle next to a brown pottery bowl full of sugar. The smell of bread rising permeated the air and he was reminded of his own mother’s kitchen. She hadn’t had a garden, but there had always been wildflowers or ‘weeds,’ as his father always teasingly called them, on the table.

“Here you are, Gabe. It keeps pretty cool down in the root cellar,” said Elizabeth as she poured them both a glass. She sat down opposite Gabe and said, “Now, what can I help you with, Gabe?”

Gabe had just taken a sip of his lemonade which was so tart he thought his lips would be drawn back into his throat. He coughed and without thinking, said, “I’d love some sugar for this, Mrs. Burke.”

Elizabeth sipped hers, made a face, and exclaimed, “My goodness, Caitlin made this this morning before her picnic with Henry. Obviously, she was a little distracted,” Elizabeth added ironically as she got up and got a spoon. “Here, Gabe, take as much sugar as you like.”

“I reckon having a fiancé visit is a little distracting, ma’am,” he drawled.

“For all of us! Now, what besides sweetening your lemonade can I do for you?” she asked with a smile.

“That letter I got today, it was from my sister, Sarah Ellen. Sadie….”

“Yes, I remember you mentioned a sister back in Texas. And two young brothers.”

“Yes, ma’am. My brothers are old enough to do for themselves for a while. And Sadie, well, we haven’t seen each other since I left home…anyways, it looks like she’s coming for a visit!”

“Why, Gabe, that’s wonderful,” said Elizabeth as a slow smile lit his face.

“Even if it weren’t, it’s too late to stop her,” he said, his smile even bigger. “But I need to find a place for her to stay while she’s here and I thought you might have an idea.”

“Well, there is the Widow Smith, just outside of town. She takes in boarders…but why shouldn’t she stay right here with us?”

“Oh, no, ma’am, I can’t impose on you like that.”

“Nonsense. It’s no imposition. And it will be a pleasure to have another woman around. We won’t outnumber the men but at least your sister will even the odds!”

Gabe was still hesitant. “It doesn’t seem right for me to have my personal concerns intruding on you, ma’am.”

Elizabeth put her glass down and looked him in the eye. “Gabe,
our
personal concerns have certainly affected you. This business with Mackie could get dangerous. Michael tells me you are willing to stay no matter what happens. You didn’t have to take on our problems. The least we can do for such loyalty is offer hospitality to your sister.”

BOOK: Journey of the Heart
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