Liberty Belle (26 page)

“They sound delightful. If I may be so bold, what became of their mother?”

Terrence stilled his fork and lost the delight in his eyes. “I’d appreciate it if you would refrain from mentioning her again. The children become so upset.”

“I am sorry.”

Silence allowed her to finish eating. The heavy meal, while a delight to her hungry stomach, now sated her into a relaxed tiredness that had her praying she’d stay awake until she was escorted to her cabin.

His hand gently clasped hers. “Forgive me. I’m sure you’d like to see your cabin. I had the help get it ready. Andrew, the servant who welcomed you, will usher you to your room unless you care for a glass of brandy.”

Was he trying to be friendly? She wasn’t sure if they were the desirable sparks, but something shot through her at his touch. His brown eyes did exude a warm kindness. Still, she withdrew her hand. Whether Wade wanted her or not, she’d not look at another man in that spark filled way.

“I do need time to put away my things.”

“Sure.” He snapped his fingers.

Andrew immediately appeared. “Yes?”

Libby studied the man. He didn’t have the appearance of a servant in dress or demeanor. His eyes were sharp and his face set to hide emotion rather than the usual subservient mask. A quick narrowing of his brows gave her the distinct feeling he disapproved of her. Did he know she’d been staying at The Yellow Slipper?

“Escort the lady to her cabin and make sure she is set for the evening.” Terrence smiled at her. “I hope you don’t mind. I’d like to visit my children before they retire for the night.”

“Not at all. When do you want their lessons to begin? Tomorrow is Saturday.”

Terrence stopped. “So it is. I think Monday would be a good day to begin.” He took a few steps down the hall and stopped. “Miss Libby, if you need to go into town, I’ll have Andrew drive you in the carriage.”

“Why, thank you.”

“I’ll leave an advance on your salary for you after breakfast. I will have you meet the children then, too.”

She fought away an embarrassing yawn and hoped she’d wake up early enough. “I’d be delighted. Good night.”

“Night, Libby.” He drawled out her name.

A quick glance at him and she blushed. His eyes warned that he might believe he’d hired more than a teacher. Why did her feelings so readily dash upon her face?

With relief, she saw Andrew waiting for her. She followed him to the cabin behind the house, staying close to the meager light the lantern splayed across the path.

The night air chilled her. Clouds shielded the moon, sending dark shadows that hid all but the shape of her new home.

The servant opened the door. She entered and inhaled musty air. A two-room cabin. The kitchen area sported a potbelly stove and table with a couple of chairs. A rug on the floor offered some warmth, but the dim yellow light prevented her from seeing the amenities or lack thereof.

Andrew pointed to the other side of the kitchen. “Bedroom’s in there. Bedding is in the dresser.” He set her valise on the table. “Is there anything else?”

Cold air seeped through the walls. Rubbing her arms, she went to the stove. “Would you make a fire?”

He hesitated. Then stomped to the stove, flung open the latch, and threw in some kindling. “Firewood’s on the side of the house. I’ll bring in enough for tonight. Tomorrow
you
might want to load the box.”

Libby stayed out of the man’s way. That he had no desire to help her was all too apparent. Whatever his reasons, he was not acting as a proper servant. She wondered if she should tell Terrence.

A fire crackled in the stove. Andrew nodded at her and left, shutting the door harder than she thought proper, but she was too tired to worry about another rude man in Denver. The cabin proved to be more primitive than she’d hoped. Not nearly as nice as Harley’s room.

After making the bed, Libby scrambled under the covers. This was her new home, and tomorrow she’d go and see Flora, Mark, and Wade.

She slipped out of bed and opened the window. Gazing into the sky, she spotted a star emerging from between clouds. “Wade, I will not forget you.”

Muffled voices sounded from the large barn to the left of her cabin. Angry shouts that were quickly shushed.

Heart pounding, she jumped back in bed and burrowed under the covers.

Chapter 26

Wade slipped out of his small room in Sweeny’s Livery. Stretching, he welcomed the new day and chance to explore. The morning chill caused him to stomp his feet, but even the cool air promised to leave in the presence of a summer sun and clear skies.

Jacob agreed to let Mark ride the little mare, and he’d given Wade a few days off to check out the gold claim. The idea of riding into the wild land helped dull the pain that continued to stab him ever since leaving Libby. The impressed look in her eyes told him he’d been right. She wanted, needed, and deserved a house such as Rowen’s.

Another dream dashed. Would he ever get out from under the cloud the Lord had placed over him? Leaning against the door, Wade brushed a hand through his hair. If only his feelings for her were so easily swept away, but Liberty Auraria Longstreet danced through his mind, enticing him with hope for the life of his dreams. He shook his head to dislodge the image.
It’s for the best
.

A nicker from the barn snatched his attention. Training Fire had become a pleasant distraction. The stallion responded well and was ready for the ride to Mark’s claim. Wade wondered how the boy would do. Jacob gave little hope they’d find any gold.

Mark, hair mussed and rubbing sleep from his eyes, limped into the sunlight. “Mr. Wade, is it time to go?”

Wade grinned. The kid brought that out the smiles in him. “Mr. Sweeny’s cooking breakfast for us. We’ll eat and then leave. Go wash.”

In his halting gait, the boy ran to the room. Wade smiled as he heard the water in the basin splash. Mark had spoken of nothing but the claim since they’d dropped Libby at Rowen’s.

After eating a pile of pancakes, the boy scampered for the barn.

Wade slapped Jacob on the shoulder. “Thanks for the use of the mare and pack horse. You sure you don’t mind me leaving?”

“Naw, you take that boy and find his claim. Looks to be about a day’s ride according to the map. Come back when you’re ready. I’ve already had five people promise to bring in ornery horses for you to train.” The big man guffawed and handed Wade a bag. “Provisions for you and Mark.”

“Thanks. Better go before Mark heads on without me.”

Wade entered the barn and whistled. Fire raised his head. “Fire, ready for a long ride?”

The stallion stomped his foot.

“Watch him, Mark. I don’t trust him yet.”

“He doesn’t like being called Fire. He wants his real name, Fuego.” The boy turned, giving him one of those knowing looks.

Mark stopped currying the mare and ran to the stallion’s stall. “Fuego.”

Ears forward, the sorrel trotted to the boy and nickered softly.

Mark rubbed the horse’s nose. “Fuego, you like that, don’t you, boy?”

Wade grabbed a bridle from the hook on the wall and watched the two. The boy didn’t mean the horse. He was talking about his own name, Taylor. A name Wade avoided. He couldn’t say it without stirring the old hatred. Yet, there it was on the deed, Taylor and Son.

Wade pushed through the misplaced hostility. “Fuego, it is then.”

He helped Mark saddle the mare and boosted him atop the gold colored horse. The boy remained quiet.

Shame ricocheted through Wade. He should offer words of comfort. They’d never talked about the Indian attack or the boy’s father. Wade shrugged off the regrets. He doubted he could even

mention Mark’s father without letting on how the hate still drove him.

Wade mounted Fuego and nodded to Mark. “Let’s find that gold.” He grabbed the packhorse lead and started for the road leading west. Mark handled the mare well, but the boy’s customary smile remained in hiding.

Chomping on the bit, Fuego sidestepped his way out of the livery. The stallion pranced, but after a few blocks, the sorrel settled into an easy trot. Wade passed by The Yellow Slipper and pushed away his regrets over Libby.

Thundering hooves and shouts snapped his attention. Fuego half-reared, and Wade reined the horse in a tight circle.

Big Joe Wallace punished his animal into a gallop and headed straight for him.

“Get on the other side of me, Mark.”

“Come on, Goldy.” The boy kicked the mare and did as he was told.

With a harsh yank on the reins, Joe Wallace jerked his horse to a stop. “Well, well. Look what we have here. Going on a little campin’ trip, I see. Watch yerself, and stay out a my way.”

“Might say the same to you.” Wade kept an even stare aimed at the big man’s glaring black eyes. His kind were trouble.

As sheriff, Wade had run into plenty like him. Not afraid of the challenge, but with Mark beside him, now was not the time. Wade backed his horse away from Wallace.

With a wicked grin, Wallace jammed his spurs in his horse’s side and sped away.

Wade held up a hand to Mark. “We’ll just wait until he’s ahead of us. Don’t want to be anywhere near him.” An icy claw ripped his insides. Could he keep Mark safe? Or did he need to send the kid away, too?

“I’m not afraid. I prayed for us this morning.”

Wade dodged the words. He’d count on his gun, not the God that tormented him. His jaw ground tight, he turned away from Mark, reined Fuego to the street, and nudged the stallion into a lope. Better to ride in front of the boy for a while. Better to avoid any more talk of God or prayers.

After riding for two hours, mostly in silence, Wade dropped beside Mark. “Another mile and there’s a stream. “We’ll stop and rest.” No answer prompted Wade to turn. Mark’s face had paled. Concern rattled Wade. “You doing all right?”

The boy gave him a forced grin.

Maybe it was the mottled shade from the trees. No need to worry over nothing. Still. … The
what if’s
pounced like a pack of hungry wolves. What had Mark so troubled? Wade hoped the boy wasn’t getting sick again. He’d even pray if he thought it would do any good.

Wade gazed at the mountains robed in white. Like salve on an angry wound, the peace and beauty of the countryside helped calm his mind and soul. At the rocky stream, Wade let the horses rest and fed Mark a sandwich. He unfolded the map included with the deed. According to the crude drawing, they weren’t halfway to the claim. Even though the trail snaked along a rough hillside, Wade thought they’d make camp before nightfall.

No sense to rush. He settled back against a boulder and let the gurgling water soothe the fiery ache in his chest. The pain that riled at the very mention of Taylor’s name. The raw wound he failed to understand how to heal. His enemy had died. His lust for revenge hadn’t.

He glanced at Mark. The boy appeared to be sleeping. Maybe going to the claim had him thinking about his father. Loss. They had that in common.

After a short rest, Wade woke the boy. “You feeling all right?”

Mark nodded. “I’m fine.”

Wade hoisted Mark onto his horse and then mounted Fuego. “Well, let’s go find that gold.”

He led the way and for a while the going was easy. Then abruptly, the path narrowed as one side hugged the higher ground and the other fell to a deep ravine. Wade hoped Mark’s prayers would protect the boy. Rocks skittered from the horse’s hooves and set off small landslides.

The path leveled and widened. Wade relaxed and let himself enjoy the view. Let himself dream about a life with Libby. As if to confirm his dreams, a sweet breeze set aspen leaves clapping and cooled the summer air.

Mark rode up beside him and pointed to a faint trail that veered to the left and deeper into the woods. “I think we go on that one.”

Wade checked the map and then tucked it back into his shirt pocket. “You’re right. We’re getting close.”

Wade reined Fuego along the overgrown path that again turned sharply into a dense forest where dark shadows engulfed him. He pushed limbs and brush aside to pass.

“Mr. Wade.” The boys whispered words halted him.

He looked back to see Mark kick the mare, fear on his face. About to question the boy, the rumble of hoofbeats and voices put Wade on alert.

He waved Mark into the shade of the trees and backed Fuego off the trail deeper into the forest. “Keep the horses quiet.” Wade dismounted and put a hand over the stallion’s muzzle, motioning for the boy to do the same.

Six riders charged into the clearing with Big Joe Wallace leading the pack.

###

Libby ate breakfast alone. One of Rowen’s servants explained Terrence had been called away on some business matter. She didn’t even get to meet the children and wondered that she hadn’t seen them yet. Surely, they played outside, although she’d not heard them.

She spent the morning cleaning her cabin. She wanted to go into town but didn’t see anyone at the barn to take her. Disappointed, she remembered the cold night and loaded her firebox.

An old rocker on her small porch provided just the spot to rest. She brushed leaves and dirt from the chair, sat, and gazed at the beauty of the area. The vibrant green of the grass contrasted with bright yellow and purple wildflowers. Add to that the snowcapped mountains against the backdrop of a stunningly blue sky and the scene should have given her peace.

Instead, a hollow loneliness gnawed at her. Was this independence? She’d have almost welcomed her mother with her schemes and yellow curtains.

A small voice inside her whispered,
Wade
. She dreamed that this was their cabin. Terrence had his mansion, Harley his saloon, but all she wanted was to be with Wade. The one-time sheriff had nothing to offer her other than sparks, and that was enough. Why did he reject her?

The barn door slammed.

Libby jumped and looked to the good-sized structure. Andrew leaned against the door and lit a smoke. Dressed in the ragged outfit common to the men of Denver, he was nothing like the servants in Georgia or even Missouri and certainly not one to invite conversation.