Judith E French (36 page)

“Injun scum,” Big Earl continued. “Blow him to …”

Caitlin stared at Thompson’s face. His eyes were so red that if she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn Big Earl had been crying.

“It’s not legal in Missouri!” Big Earl shouted. “I’ll have him hung.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Rachel yelled back. “Beau’s dead, and so are Nate and Long Neck Jack. Surely that’s enough bodies to suit you. They were rustlers and would-be murderers, and if the good Lord hadn’t seen fit to do away with them, someone would have had to hang them.”

“I’m your father!” Big Earl bellowed back.

Thompson’s tirade was not as loud as it had been. Caitlin glanced down at Shane. His features were stern and he gripped his rifle tightly in his big hands, but he didn’t look like a man who thought he’d have to shoot his neighbor any time soon.

“No daughter of mine will ever marry a red Injun,” Big Earl grated.

“Not will.
Has!”
Rachel waved a paper at her father. “Signed, sealed, and blessed by a shaved-head Jesuit priest. Rachel Thompson and Gabriel Larocque. Married this mornin’ with a church full of witnesses.”

Big Earl pulled off his hat and flung it to the ground in frustration. “You can’t marry an Injun in Missouri.”

“You prove he’s an Injun, Big Earl. Prove it. Gabe’s got a birth certificate what says he’s the son of a French national named Larocque and one Marie Rouge.”

“He ain’t no Frenchman. He’s an Injun,” Big Earl argued. “Anybody can see that.”

Rachel scoffed. “That fella ridin’ with you has got hair as black as Gabe’s. And his skin’s ever’ bit as dark! My husband is a Frenchy, Pa, and you or nobody else can prove otherwise.”

“I don’t need to prove nothin’,” Big Earl answered. “I can blow him away where he stands.”

“You’re not shootin’ anybody, Thompson.” Shane raised his rifle. “Just calm down. Rachel’s of age. I suppose she can marry any man she chooses.”

“Any white man,” Big Earl flung back.

“Gabe’s a long sight whiter than your son was,” Rachel said, “and he’ll get whiter the longer you look at him.”

“I’ll not look at his red face. I’ll disown you.”

“Do it, you old fool!” Rachel shouted. “And who will you leave your land to? Your horse? I’m all you’ve got, and I’ve picked myself a good man. If you can’t see it that way, then sit there alone and rot.”

“Rachel, girl,” Big Earl argued. “You can’t do this to me.”

“Done it,” she said. “And if I was you, I’d offer McKenna a big apology. It was Beau and Nate Bone doin’ all the wickedness against Kilronan these last two years. And it’s partly your fault.”

Big Earl turned his head and glanced back at Shane.

Caitlin was certain Earl Thompson was crying. His cheeks were wet with tears.

“Is it true, what she said about my boy? About Nate Bone, and how they died?”

Shane nodded. “You have my word on it, Thompson.”

Big Earl’s shoulders sagged, and Caitlin noticed how gray his hair was and how lined his face. For all his bluster and his authority, Earl Thompson was no longer in his prime. He was an aging man who’d just lost his son. He’d become estranged from his daughter and seen her wed to a bridegroom he couldn’t accept. Caitlin couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“You can’t bring him home with you,” Big Earl threatened Rachel. “You can marry him, but you can’t expect me to keep him.”

“I’ve got a job,” Gabe said quietly. “I can support my wife.” He looked at Shane. “Unless me and Rachel are a problem. If we are, we can go west to Oregon with—”

“You’ve got a place on Kilronan as long as you want it,” Shane said.

Big Earl cleared his throat and wiped a gnarled hand over his face. “I guess it’s all said, then. Ain’t nothin’ more—”

“No, Pa, ain’t nothin’ more,” Rachel said. “Except, I still love ya. And if you want, me and my man will take you back to where Beau is and help give him a burial.”

“I’ll find him myself,” Big Earl answered hoarsely. “You stay where you’re wanted.” He reined his horse around and motioned to his men.

Then the dark-haired rider moved close to Big Earl and said something Caitlin couldn’t hear. Earl Thompson pointed at Shane. “That’s McKenna, there,” he said.

“Shane McKenna?” the stranger asked. “Of County Clare?”

“Aye,” Shane answered. “What of it?”

Caitlin stared at the newcomer.

“I’m Liam Shaughnessy, late of County Clare myself, and I’m married to my brother’s widow, Maureen.”

“You’re married to Maureen?” Caitlin cried. “But that’s not allowed. You can’t marry your sister-in-law.”

Liam grinned. “I can in America, and I have. English law doesn’t rule here.”

“My sister’s here?”

“Oh, my Maureen’s here, right enough,” Liam Shaughnessy said. “I’ve come about her girl, Derry. You’ve got the child, so I’m told.”

“Derry?” Caitlin felt a chill run through her.

“Derry Shaughnessy. That’s her. She’s the babe of my dead brother Thomas and my Maureen. And ’tis fortune
indeed. Maureen had given up hope of locating her sister. We mean to settle up with you before we head west for Oregon country.”

“Can you ever forgive me, Caity?” Shane took hold of Caitlin’s shoulders and stared into her tear-stained face. God help him, he loved his wife more than his hope of salvation, and he’d believed her a liar and an adulteress.

How could he have misjudged her so? And why had he been too stubborn to see what a pure and good woman she was? He’d made her life hell, when he’d been the only one to break their marriage vows.

“You’re the one person in my life who never betrayed me, and I couldn’t believe you were telling me the truth about Derry,” he said.

She laid her head on his chest, hiding her tears. “I kept telling you she was Maureen’s child.”

He rocked her against him and swore softly. “Yell at me, woman. Call me names. Tell me what a block-headed fool I’ve been.”

She sniffed. “You’re doing pretty good on your own.”

He kissed the crown of her head. “I’m sorry, Caitlin. I wronged you. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Oh, Shane.” She began to weep again. “Derry …”

“They can’t have her.”

“But my sister loves Derry, too. How can we keep her from Maureen?”

“Your sister gave birth to her, but she lost her rights to Derry when she sent her to America with you. You can’t trade kids back and forth like used saddles. She’s ours now.”

“But Maureen gave her to me to keep her from starving.”

“We haven’t discussed Derry with them yet. This Liam seems a reasonable man,” Shane said, trying to calm Caitlin. “Maybe they’d be content to settle here in Missouri if I gave them a hundred acres.”

“You’d trade part of Kilronan for Derry?”

“Gladly,” he answered, “but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Shaughnessy had said he meant to take his family over the plains and mountains to Oregon. Anything could happen to a three-year-old child on the journey. Images of cholera and Indian attack rose like specters in Shane’s mind.

What if Derry wandered off on the prairie? Would Liam Shaughnessy have enough sense to track down a lost child, or would he abandon her to keep up with the wagon train?

“Damn it, Caity, I’m her father,” Shane said before he realized that he was speaking his feelings aloud. “I love the both of you, and I’m not about to give either of you to someone else.”

Caitlin wiped her eyes. “We can’t think of ourselves, Shane. We have to do what’s best for Derry. Maybe we’re being selfish.”

“We’re best for Derry.”

“I can’t break Maureen’s heart.” Caitlin’s restless hands moved over her patched skirt.

Mary had washed and mended the rips in Caity’s once elegant riding habit. The garment was fit for a decent
woman to wear in public, but it would never pass for a fine lady’s dress again. And his Caity, who he’d thought was too delicate for life in Missouri, had proved far tougher than her clothing.

“You said she was expecting another child when you left County Clare,” Shane reasoned. “If the baby lived, then this Liam already has one stepchild to feed. He may not want another.” He reached for a saddlebag and a bedroll. “To hell with them. We’ll take our kids and ride for Kilronan.”

“No.” Caity’s pain was so evident that he wanted to smash his fist into a log wall to stop his own hurting. “We can’t do that. It would be dishonest,” she cried.

He flung the saddlebag and blanket to the rough plank floor. “I thought you wanted to keep Derry.”

“I do, but not that way. How could I face the child, knowing that I’d stolen her from the woman who bore her?” She touched his cheek. “Shane, there’s something that I haven’t told you.”

Her fingers felt soft against his face. God, but he wanted to protect this woman. Trouble was he didn’t know how. All his life he’d used his fists to fight his way out of trouble. Now, it seemed if he did the right thing, he’d lose the child they both loved. And if he took Derry by force, Caity might never forgive him.

“Shane, listen.”

“I am listenin’.”

“What I’m trying to tell you might make a difference in the way you feel about keeping Derry.”

“Nothin’ could make me stop lovin’ that child.”

Caity looked so vulnerable that he ached for her. And then his world tilted.

“I’m having your baby.”

“You are?” He stared at her. “When? How?” He took a breath and then another until his head felt giddy. Caity was having his child. He had another chance at what he thought he’d lost forever when Cerise died on the floor of Fat Rose’s whorehouse.

He closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them, golden sunlight flooded the rough shelter. Caity’s hair had never looked so coppery red or her eyes so beautiful. “When? How?” He grinned at her.

She smiled. “In autumn, November, I think. I’m not really sure,” she answered. “But as to how …” She chuckled. “In the usual way, I’d think.”

“That’s great. Great news. A brother for Justice.”

“Or a sister.”

“Girl or boy, it doesn’t matter to me, so long as you’re all right and the baby’s healthy.” He straightened his shoulders and nodded. “A sister for our Derry would be fine. So long as you don’t object to my teachin’ her to shoot.”

Caity’s joy faded. “But we won’t have our Derry, will we?”

“You think another child would make me change how I feel about our nubbin?”

“I hoped it wouldn’t.”

“God knows I’ve given you reason enough to doubt me. I’ve let you down, Caity, but I’ll not fail you again, I swear it.”

“You’re happy about the baby?”

“Of course I’m happy. Nothin’ means more to me than you and our kids. If we have a dozen, I’ll—”

“Don’t set your heart on a dozen.”

He embraced her and kissed her tenderly. “How long have you known?” he asked when they parted.

“Long enough to be certain.”

He tilted her chin up. “You knew, yet you risked your life and our babe’s by helpin’ Gabe drive the herd.” The thought of what he could have lost to Nate Bone made his gut clench.

She nodded. “It seemed the right thing to do.”

“And do you still think that? After all that happened on the trail? After Nate Bone and—”

“We got the horses here, didn’t we?” Then the pride in her eyes dimmed. “Only … if I hadn’t come, Liam Shaughnessy wouldn’t have found us. He and Maureen would have gone on to Oregon, and we’d—”

“McKenna!” Rachel shouted as she reined in her horse so tightly at the entrance to the shelter that the animal reared. “McKenna!”

Shane shook his head. “Not now, Rachel. We’ve trouble—”

“Hell’s bells, McKenna! This is important. Gabe’s found—”

Caitlin cut her off. “Rachel. My sister—Derry’s mother—is here in Independence.”

“Blue hellfire, Cait. I saw that Irish fella talkin’ to McKenna, but I had no idea he was kin to you.”

“My sister’s new husband, Liam Shaughnessy,” Caitlin explained. “They’re on their way west, and they’ve come to claim Derry.”

Rachel’s face blanched. “Damn. Double damn and shoe the coyote! Gabe said you was tellin’ the truth about that mite bein’ your sister’s. They come to take her back?”

“They’re not gettin’ her,” Shane said.

Rachel turned her attention to him. “Gabe wants you right away.”

“I can’t come now. Caity and I have to go meet with her sister and Shaughnessy.”

Rachel shook her head. “This can’t wait, McKenna. Come now, or forget about gettin’ Cherokee back.”

“What?” Caitlin’s eyes dilated in surprise. “Shane’s horse?”

“It’s what I come to tell you,” Rachel said impatiently. “Gabe spotted Cherokee in a corral with a herd from Saint Louis. Your buckskin pony’s about to be auctioned off. You can buy him back if you move fast.”

“Are you sure it’s Shane’s buckskin?” Caitlin asked.

Rachel guffawed. “Gabe don’t make mistakes where horses are concerned.”

“It makes no sense,” Shane protested. “The man I sold him to wanted him for his son.”

“Hell’s ashes, McKenna,” Rachel exclaimed. “Are you gonna stand there jawin’? You ought to have enough money to top any bid, considerin’ how much I got for the rest of your herd.”

He glanced at Caity.

“Go ahead,” she urged. “I’ll wait here for you. I want to wash Derry and fix her hair. I don’t want Maureen to see her looking like a wharf rat.”

“Take my horse.” Rachel dismounted and tossed Shane the reins. “Just don’t let anybody auction him off by mistake.”

Caitlin was near panic an hour later when she saw Shane coming on Cherokee. Derry sat proudly on Shane’s lap holding on to the saddle horn, and Justice rode behind the saddle with his arms around Shane’s waist.

“Where have you been?” she demanded of the children.

Derry looked as though she’d been swimming in a hog wallow. One pigtail was undone, her calico bonnet was
missing a string and trailing down her back, and her shoes were caked in brown, gooey mud.

Justice appeared little better. He sported a fresh cut on his lip, and he glared at her with an expression that would have scorched cowhide.

“I’ve looked everywhere,” Caitlin scolded.

“Gabe caught the two of them in a fight with some town boys. There was a circle of screamin’ kids around them, or he might never have realized they’d slipped away from us.”