Sweet Savage Heart (49 page)

“Grandfather, did Travis tell you a secret this morning?” she asked, unable to contain her joy any longer.

Nathan beamed. “Seems my family will be getting closer but not bigger real soon. I’m happy and pleased, Rana. You and Travis are perfect for each other. And I’m glad you understand about this mess with Harry’s daughter. Think you two can fool her? Hiding love isn’t easy,” he teased, adding milk to another cup of coffee.

“We must do this until our enemies are defeated. Again we will fight side by side, Grandfather. We will be brave and cunning, and we will defeat them as we did the bluecoat foes on the trail.”

“I’m proud of you, Rana, and of Travis. But I want you two to be real careful. Those Caldwells are dangerous and wicked.”

“I understand, Grandfather. I will follow orders.”

When the pudgy seamstress arrived mid-morning, the
cheery woman was delighted with the lucrative task and the lovely girl she would outfit. She quickly took measurements and discussed clothing with Rana and Nathan, who ordered everything Rana might need or want. Mrs. Clara Dobbs told them she would begin the new wardrobe that very day and would send out a few ready-to-wear garments for Rana’s immediate use. When Nathan asked the woman if she would help Rana learn how to dress properly, Clara Dobbs replied that she would be delighted to instruct Rana in any way she could. Moreover, the harrowing tale of the girl’s past misfortune did not trouble Clara in the least. Mrs. Dobbs was charmed by the gentle, beautiful girl, and she was certain others would be also. With a genuine smile, the pugnosed woman bid them good day and departed with one of the hands, who would accompany her to her shop and retrieve the promised ready-made items.

After the noon meal, the local schoolteacher arrived. Nathan introduced Rana to Aaron Moore, then left the two alone in the sitting room. Aaron used his first session with Rana to question and test the extent of her knowledge. He was pleased by how much she knew and by her quick and keen intelligence. He could tell he was going to enjoy tutoring this radiant, eager pupil. Finally, he told her he would return the following day to begin their lessons. Rana was delighted when he promised he would also teach her customs, etiquette, and dancing.

After bidding the teacher farewell, Rana relaxed in the sitting room and glanced through the books Aaron Moore had left with her. She realized her journey back to the white world would be hard, but she was proud of the fact that she was learning things every hour. So far, everyone seemed so friendly and helpful. Yet she knew there were some nearby who would despise her and try to hurt her. But she had Travis and her grandfather, and together they made a happy family. Her life had changed so much
since the winter snows had left the Oglala lands, and those changes had been good ones.

Rana rested an open book against her chest as her gaze traveled to her mother’s portrait. Laying aside the volume, she walked to the fireplace. She looked closely at Marissa’s image, then at the two portraits of herself. Comparing them, she noticed how closely she favored her mother and that pleased her, for the resemblance seemed to provide a bond between them, one that overcame even the dark barricade of death. Yet there was also an eeriness in being the reflection of another person, one who had suffered greatly in life and who had died so young and tragically. Rana wanted to know everything about her mother, but she suspected that few, if any, knew the truth or had known the woman. Intelligence and courage were reflected in Marissa’s eyes, traits that should have prevented such a woman from marrying a brutal, evil man like Raymond Michaels. Even now, Rana could not imagine that man being her father, though she knew she could not alter the circumstances of her birth.

Rana wondered what her life would have been like if Marissa had married another man or had remained on the ranch after her last visit, or if Travis had arrived to find both of them living here, one older and one younger than himself. Would the sensuous Marissa have won his heart? she asked herself. A strange, unwanted jealousy consumed her as she pondered which of them might have caught Travis’s eye first. Quickly Rana forced such foolish thoughts from her mind.

She was eager to meet Todd Raines, who had loved Marissa, and whom she hoped could tell her more about her mother. Her mother’s past now seemed very much like the Oglala game in which a group of colored sticks were tossed into a pile to form a pattern about which one player asked a question and another player guessed the answer from the sticks’ arrangement; but too many
pieces were missing in Marissa’s game of life to make guessing any answers possible. But perhaps Todd Raines could add a few sticks to the pile. Raines… Rana… she mused silently. How strange it was that their names were similar. Then again, she realized, Rana and Raymond were similar. If Raymond Michaels was the villain in her nightmares, the man with night hair and deer eyes, it meant she did not favor him. Perhaps it was not proper to be so happy about such a little thing, but she was.

“What drove you from your family, Mother?” she unconsciously asked aloud, empathizing with the woman who had borne her, a woman who was alive only in her dreams and almost a stranger. “Why did you stay joined to such a cruel man? I remember how he beat you and cursed you many times. All those nights I dreamed some evil man was chasing me and hurting me, it was you I saw in my sleep. Why did you not leave him or slay him? Why did you not ask Grandfather for help? I hated him, and I’m glad he’s dead. How could you have endured such evil? Even love would not explain such a bond of loyalty.”

Rana closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the mantel as flashes of her past flooded her mind, remembrances that had plagued her so many times over the years that she could never forget them. Maybe there was a purpose behind her memories, and she fervently wished the Great Spirit would reveal it or push them aside forever. One dream in particular returned to haunt her, the one that had attacked her the first night she had met Travis. She knew what the white words “bitch” and “whore” meant, and she could not understand why Raymond—she could not call him father or think of him in that light—had called her mother such vile names. Had her mother actually been afraid Raymond would kill Nathan, or all of them, if she ran away? Now that she had
fused her body with a man’s, she recalled and comprehended other things she had witnessed; the name “Fargo” and Raymond’s wicked commands caused her mind to burn with anger, contempt, and hatred for Raymond and the men who had taken advantage of her vulnerable mother. How she wished she had been old enough to protect Marissa from such torment and suffering. If only she had understood the situation and had told Nathan.

Raymond’s voice shouting “…the truth about you and that brat…” thundered across her mind. “What truth, Mother? What did he mean by ‘silence for money’? Why were you so afraid of him? What secret kept you bound in such evil as his slave?” she murmured sadly.

Rana began to cry softly, for she knew some terrible evil had befallen her mother, an evil that perhaps still existed in this land and lurked nearby in secret, waiting to destroy her too. “Help me, Great Spirit; do not let this evil destroy me as it did my mother. Reveal it to me, and show me how to defeat it.”

Suddenly Travis was there, pulling her around and embracing her in his strong arms. “What’s wrong,
micante?
Were Mister Moore and Mrs. Dobbs so rough on you today? Don’t worry, you’ll learn everything soon. You’re quick and smart,” he murmured comfortingly as he held her snugly against him. He had watched her walk to the portrait and stare at it, and had heard her speak those baffling words. He tucked them away in his mind together with those he had overheard in Lone Wolf’s tepee and those she had spoken in her sleep that night on the trail.

She admitted anxiously, “My heart races in fear,
mihigna.
Terrible dreams keep filling my head. Memories flood it like muddy waters and I cannot see through them to the bottom of my past. There is evil here and I cannot
remember where or in what form.”

Travis knew who held a secret about Marissa in her insidious grasp. Somehow he had to force the truth from Clarissa, for he saw that the past was tormenting his beloved and he feared that the malicious creature might find some way to use her knowledge against Rana. Somehow he had to solve the ever-increasing mystery that surrounded Marissa Crandall Michaels. Aloud, he ordered, “Forget it, love. You’re safe here with me.” He guided her to the settee and pulled her down beside him. “Just relax, my love, and calm down.” For a long time, they sat quietly as he held her close. Finally, he teased lightly, “Do you want your grandfather to find you in tears and fire those two for upsetting you like this?”

“But it was not Mister Moore or Mrs. Dobbs.”

“I know, love, but you don’t want Nate to see how frightened you are. If he does, he won’t let you fight these enemies with us.”

Rana looked up into his eyes and inquired, “What does ‘brat’ mean?” She noticed that a curious expression filled his eyes.

“Where did you hear that word?” he asked in a strange tone. “It’s what the whites call a really bad child, a child who’s spoiled and mean as a snake, one who gives its parents great difficulty when they attempt to control it. It’s a hateful and rude child you have trouble liking, one you don’t want to be around if you can prevent it. Why?”

Without hesitation, she told him, “I keep hearing Raymond Michaels calling me that in my dreams. I do not understand why. I know it sounds bad, Travis, but I hate to think of him as my father.”

He pulled her close to him. “No, love, it doesn’t sound bad. I know how you feel. I feel the same way about Jeremy Kincade. Some men are just plain evil, Rana, and they don’t deserve our love and respect, even if they’re family. From what I’ve heard about Raymond Michaels,
he didn’t sound like a fatherly kind of man. Maybe he just didn’t like being tied down with a small child. He liked to travel and gamble, and the kinds of places he went were not places for a little one. You probably got in his way, but not because you were a brat. When I was talking with Clarissa, I called you a brat several times to make her think you and I didn’t like each other or get along,” he confessed ruefully. “I’m sorry, but you know I didn’t mean it.”

Rana laughed. “Were you afraid I had heard it from you when I spied on you, like a brat?” she teased. “I told you, I could not hear your words from the house. But I wanted to claw out that woman’s eyes for touching you as only I should touch you.”

“A possessive and jealous wife—good,” he remarked roguishly.

Rana kissed him, then hugged him. “I fear I am both,
mihigna.”

“When somebody asks you what that word means, what are you going to tell them?”

“The same thing you will tell anyone who asks what
micante
means,” she laughingly retorted.

“Listen to me, you little brat, we have to be careful what we say and how we act around other people, even our friends, because they let secrets slip without meaning to do so,” he warned.

“My son is right, Granddaughter,” Nathan stated genially from the doorway. “We all have to be careful. It won’t be easy to fool Harry and Miss Clarissa. I think you two should keep your kisses and hugs inside this house,” he advised pointedly.

“We will, Grandfather,” Rana promised happily. “When we are around your enemies, I will behave as a… little brat.” She glanced at Travis and they both laughed.

Nathan watched Travis tickle Rana, then observed
how they looked at each other. There was no doubt in his mind; they loved each other deeply and they deserved each other. His heart overflowed with joy. “I can’t wait until you two are married and fill this house with my great-grandchildren. I thank the Lord every night for sending you home, Rana, and for sending Travis to me.”

“So do I, Grandfather,” she agreed, her loving gaze on Travis.

“Would you like to hear a secret, Papa dear?” Clarissa inquired provocatively after Harrison Caldwell had returned from town the following day. She had risen late after her wanton encounter with Wes Monroe and had discovered that her father had already left for business in Fort Worth. All day she had hoped no one would reveal to her father the news about Marissa’s daughter’s return.

Harrison glanced at his wayward child and asked, “If you’ve got something to say, Clarissa, don’t be silly about it.”

“Then I suppose no one’s told you where Nathan Crandall went during his long absence or why?” She toyed with him, even though she knew it irritated him when she did so. Tonight she held the winning hand and she was going to savor laying it out before him, one card at a time.

“I don’t give a hoot,” Harrison stated, scowling at her.

“You don’t give a hoot if Nathan found Marissa’s missing daughter alive and well?” she inquired evocatively, grinning at him.

Harrison set aside his paper and stared at his obnoxious child. “What in blazes are you blabbering about?” he demanded.

“I thought you might be interested in knowing that Nathan located the girl and brought her home… a girl, I was told, who looks like her mother, or better,” she
casually revealed. “Evidently your hired men aren’t as well informed or as talented as I am, Papa. They arrived Sunday evening, so I went to work obtaining information for my dear father. Rana Michaels could ruin your plans, so you might have to take care of her quite soon. From what Travis told me, she’s quite a handful.”

“Get on with it, girl,” he commanded sternly when Clarissa returned her attention to the book in her hands.

The clever Clarissa had added up the clues and had realized how Nathan had learned about Rana: Thomas Mallory. “As I said, Papa, Nathan found Marissa’s daughter, Rana Michaels, living with Indians as a chief’s daughter. You remember how the Kiowas butchered Marissa and Raymond and abducted her little girl,” she reminded him spitefully. “Nathan never gave up hoping and searching for his little Rana. When he heard about this girl who looked like Marissa, he and Travis took off to find her and look her over themselves. It was Rana, so he paid five thousand dollars for her release. Such an expenditure should have left him penniless and right where you want him with his loan at the bank coming due soon. From what I was told, Rana’s beauty puts her mother’s to shame. Fiery red hair and big blue eyes… I believe Travis said it was like looking at Marissa’s old portrait, or seeing her ghost.”