The Texan's Dream (12 page)

“We may hit bad weather.” Jonathan took the stairs two at a time. “It smells like rain.”

Kara pointed at the raincoat lying atop her small bag. She’d already thought of the weather.

Jonathan walked past her, picked up the bag, and opened the front door. As he’d mentioned, Jason Newton, the foreman, and Willis were waiting to act as guards. Kara couldn’t help but wonder at the need for guards every time Jonathan left the ranch. She had a feeling it was necessary, but wasn’t sure she wanted to ask why.

After a few moments of awkwardness, he helped her on her horse. She nodded her thanks. Silently, she agreed to a truce. There were times they’d have to touch, she told herself. It didn’t have to mean anything and there was no changing what the others thought.

He tied her bag behind the saddle. “The bay is gentle.” He checked her stirrup length, only brushing her ankle to insure the fit was right. “She’ll give you no trouble.”

Kara couldn’t be sure if he was talking to the horse or her.

Jonathan looked at the doorway where Snort pouted. “We’ll be back in three, four days at the most. Hold down the fort. I’m depending on you, Snort.”

The old man straightened. “Yes, sir.”

With dark clouds building in the northern sky, the small party rode out of the headquarters and turned west. Kara didn’t dare mention how long it had been since she’d ridden, but she figured the others could tell. It took her an hour to get the feel of the horse but, slowly, the pastime she’d enjoyed as a child returned as a skill.

An hour before noon, they left Catlin land at the road and headed northwest. The weather turned ugly. Rain hung thick in the air. Jonathan stopped to check the horses and everyone pulled on coats.

“You all right?” he asked as he lowered her from the saddle so she could stretch her legs.

“Aye!” she answered, very much aware that he stood close as though making sure she had her footing. His body sheltered her against the rain, and she found herself wanting to stay beside him.

“Willis? Newton?” Jonathan slowly moved away from her.

Both men answered that all was well, even though now the storm was so noisy, Kara could barely hear them. She stroked the bay’s neck while Jonathan checked the horse’s hooves.

“We’ll hit shelter at the Riney Place a half-mile away.” He looked directly at her. “Everyone ready to ride?”

Kara fought the hem of her skirt to reach the stirrup. Before she could pull herself up, Jonathan moved behind her and lifted her with ease.

“Thanks.”

He touched his gloved hand to his hat and stepped away.

Kara suddenly had to concentrate on her actions. The road became a muddy river and lightning flickered all around them, spooking the horses. She held the reins tight, staying alert as she followed closely behind Jonathan.

In a flash of sudden brightness, lightning struck the ground fifty feet in front of them, firing the earth for a second before rain drenched the spark. For a time, the storm was silent, then thunder rattled in deafening rage as though competing for attention with the lightning.

Kara pulled her horse under control, fighting to stay seated as he danced in the mud. The mount behind her stomped the ground and reared. Newton shouted at Willis. The old man lost control and tumbled from the horse. The animal circled wildly, frightened and without direction.

Newton and Jonathan were on the ground in a second, shouting and shooing the horse from Willis’s twisted body.

Kara slid down as soon as she could and ran to the others. A scream caught in the back of her throat, strangled by fear.

Willis rocked from side to side in the mud.

“Where are you hurt?” She knelt beside him, trying to help him sit up.

He didn’t answer. He fought a battle with a force far darker than the storm. His movements were jerky, as if he took blows from an unseen assailant.

Kara tried to hold him tight, but he rocked from her arms and twisted in the mud.

Jonathan was on the man’s other side trying to calm him. “Can you ride?” Jonathan asked. “Willis! Can you understand? We have to get out of this weather.”

Willis didn’t answer. He raised his face to the rain, as though he didn’t feel the water pounding.

“Can you stand?” Jonathan asked without expecting an answer. He glanced at Kara. “We have to get him up.”

Willis melted against Kara’s side suddenly, too tired to hold his head up a moment longer. He curled against her like a frightened child.

“We’ve got to get him out of this storm!” Newton lifted Willis slowly.

Jonathan agreed as he stood and offered his hand to Kara. When his strong fingers closed around hers, she realized how badly she was shaking, unsure whether it was from fear or cold.

Jonathan helped Newton lift Willis onto a horse. The old man seemed to be made of rags. He offered no protest, no voice in answer. The foreman swung up behind him. Jonathan grabbed the reins of all three of the men’s horses and began plowing through the mud, into the rage of the tempest.

He shouted back to Kara. “Can you manage?”

“Yes,” she answered as she calmed the bay.

Kara fought her skirts and climbed back into her saddle. She brought up the rear, staying close lest they disappear into the sheets of rain now washing against them like waves.

An eternity passed before they reached the Riney place, half a mile away through mud. The rain beat every ounce of energy from her. When she finally slid from the saddle, she wasn’t sure she had the strength to stand. The men had more important things than her to worry about. She’d make it.

The Riney farmhouse and barn, huddling together on the plains, had long ago been abandoned. Newton explained earlier that James Riney and his wife moved to Austin when Riney had been elected to the House of Representatives. Talk was he’d run for governor someday, Newton said, maybe even president. But one thing was certain … he’d never come back to farming or to this hard prairie life.

While Jonathan took the horses, Newton carried Willis into what was left of the one-room house. Most of the window glass had broken out. The openings let in watery light barely better than twilight even though it couldn’t be much past three. The back door flapped on one leather hinge. Half the roof had caved in on a bedroom loft, but the downstairs remained dry.

The fireplace stood intact. Newton built a fire while Kara tried to make Willis comfortable close to the hearth. The thin old man didn’t appear to have broken any bones, but he couldn’t move one side of his body and speech came hard and slow. A bruise darkened from his hairline to his eyebrow, discoloring most of his forehead, but there was no cut. As if calling loved ones from the past, he mumbled names she’d never heard. When Kara took his hand in hers, no grip returned her hold.

She was afraid he’d catch pneumonia if she wrapped him in a wet bedroll; all their clothes were soaked. She decided it would be better to keep him close to the fire and let his clothes dry on him. Though he kept mumbling, he didn’t seem in great pain.

Kara used pieces of broken furniture to make a circle around Willis. She then placed all their wet blankets over the furniture to dry and to offer some shelter from the wind that whipped through the house.

She found supplies in a leather bag Jonathan brought in with the saddles. A small coffee pot, coffee beans, fresh bread and ham wrapped in one of the kitchen towels. If Kara were guessing, she’d say Angela had made the old man bring the supplies along just in case they were needed.

Within minutes the room warmed and filled with the smell of coffee. She tried to get Willis to eat, but he didn’t seem to understand what she wanted. The old man closed his eyes and turned his head away.

Newton drank the coffee but turned down any offer of food. He talked to Willis like the man might roll over and say something at any minute. As time passed, Kara grew more worried.

“Isn’t there something we can do?” she asked.

Newton shook his head. “Even without the storm, we’re hours from a doc. I’m not sure he’d live long if we tried to move him now. It’ll be dark soon and we wouldn’t be able to see the road. There’s nothing we can do until the storm lets up.”

Doing nothing wasn’t an option Kara could accept. She buttoned her coat and went to find Jonathan. Surely he could think of something … anything … to do besides watching Willis die.

FOURTEEN

KARA FOUND JONATHAN IN THE BARN RUBBING down the horses with old straw. She knew he heard her come in, but he didn’t turn around. In the watery light, she saw him only in shadows. Long, lean, powerful shadows.

“Willis is bad,” she said. “The fall must have hurt him inside. There’s nothing Newton or I can think to do for him but try and keep him warm.”

Jonathan never stopped working. “The fall didn’t hurt him. A man like him, who’s lived his life on a horse, doesn’t just fall, even in a storm. The illness struck him first, then he fell. It wasn’t the mount or the storm.”

“How do you know?” She was surprised by Jonathan’s coldness in stating what he believed were the facts.

“When I was a boy and lived among the Indians for a time, once I saw an old man like Willis is now, unable to move one side of his body.”

“But why?”

“My Apache father said it was because one half of the man stepped into the afterlife. No one can live long when one half has already gone. Unless he comes back, there is nothing we can do.”

“How much longer do you think he has?” she breathed the words.

“I don’t know.” He stopped working and looked toward her. “The old man of the tribe lingered for a while, his spirit in both worlds.”

Kara shivered from sudden cold. Before she had time to think, she closed the distance between them.

He stood rooted in place as she pressed the length of her body against his, then circled his neck with her arms. Slowly, as though he were figuring out what to do, he put his arms around her.

The warmth of him passed through her, and she leaned into his chest, letting him keep them balanced. His stance widened. His grip tightened around her. He smelled of rain and damp leather and horses, but he felt wonderful so close. He was a solid anchor in the storm.

Neither moved for a long while. They just held one another, both lost in their own private fears.

Finally, Jonathan placed his arm around her shoulder and sheltered her through the rain to the house.

Newton looked up when they entered. The fire in the hearth was bright and lit the room in streamers of light.

“How is he?” Kara asked as she slipped between the curtain of drying blankets.

“Better, I think,” Newton said without much conviction. He was a big man who tended to rock from side to side when upset.

Kara knelt so that she could brush her hand along Willis’s cheek. She felt no fever, only the warm tickle of his breath against her fingers. When the blankets dried, they covered him so that he wouldn’t get cold. The sky turned a few shades darker into night, and the temperature dropped.

Kara sat beside Willis in case he stirred. Finally, she heard him snoring. Newton made a bed on the left side of the fire where the floor was dry. Jonathan used his coat as cover and one of the saddles as a pillow. He slept close to the door, like a guard. She debated where to sleep. The choices were few, and the memory of Jonathan’s warm hug drew her. But she wasn’t sure he’d welcome her a second time. He didn’t have to tell her he was not a man who usually hugged anyone.

She leaned against the warm rocks of the hearth and wrapped her arms around her knees. Curled into a ball, she tried to sleep. She’d never felt so alone, so far from her home.

The letter in her pocket reminded her that she might be heading home soon. They’d get the mail. She could almost see Father James rushing it over to her father where the priest knew he had supper, maybe at the pub, maybe at his cousins’ house. Everyone would huddle around to read a letter from Karina, whom they all repeatedly testified to how dearly they missed. Maybe they’d volley over who should go after her. And, of course, they’d let Devin win. After all, he would be her husband soon. He’d come for her, declaring his love forever and sweeping her off her feet in a huge bear hug. He’d take her home to a grand party in her honor. Her father would say he was sorry he’d sent her away, that he wished he’d kept her close even in the time of trouble.

Kara tugged the letter from her pocket, still lost in her daydream. All her neighbors and cousins would be fine. They’d claim the worst of the feud was her absence and the loss of her cooking. Life would return to normal. She’d go back to working at the bakery before dawn and walking home with the smell of fresh bread surrounding her. And she’d have her tea by the fire before she started her day. All just like before.

Kara looked down at the letter … the proof that her daydream could come true.

The paper was damp in her fingers, the ink erased by trails of water that had run like tiny rivers down the envelope.

She gulped down a sob and held the letter close as if she could forget the damage and the dream would return.

But it didn’t. No one was on his way to get her. No party waited. No one knew where she was and she wasn’t sure anyone even cared.

She lifted the letter and dropped it into the fire. In truth, she was in the middle of nowhere, hungry and tired, with a man who might die only a few feet from her. Did anyone really care about her? Would anyone miss her?

As the paper burned, she hugged her knees tightly to her and lowered her head against her muddy skirt. Tears flowed as silently as the rain. Her body shook with loneliness. Her arms clenched around her as though holding on, less she disappear completely.

The reality that she might not have been sent away because they valued her dearly, but because she was in the way registered against her heart. And Devin had never come to call on her … just her…. He’d always simply passed by her on his way to see her father. If she died in this abandoned shack in this wild country, no one would notice, except, maybe, some Sunday one of her cousins would ask, “Whatever happened to those great biscuits we used to have?”

She could never remember her father saying he loved her, just that she should stop questioning him. Or Devin saying anything to her except that he’d marry her one day. When he had time, she thought.
If
he had time.

Exhaustion and fear struggled within her as her imagination visualized the worst. Kara fought back the sobs. She wasn’t weak, she told herself. She could face the truth. What if no one cared? What if even the angels no longer had time to watch over her?

From the blackness of her world, strong arms lifted her. Jonathan pulled her up to him, letting her tears fall against his chest. Then, he held her tightly as though the bands of his arms could protect her against the world, against her dreams, against her fears.

“Kara,” he whispered near her ear, no louder than a prayer.

The warmth of his voice brushed her cheek.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and let him lift her. He didn’t ask a question or offer advice. He didn’t tell her to stop being foolish like her father would have. He simply carried her away from the burning letter and into the shadows.

She wanted to apologize for crying, but he didn’t seem to want, or need, words. He carefully placed her atop his coat and pulled her damp raincoat over them both. Then, he wrapped his arms around her and whispered, “Go to sleep, darlin’.”

Kara had never been more awake in her life. She could hear Jonathan’s heart pounding beneath her ear. One of his arms rested just below her breasts. And his hand gently touched her cheek as his breathing slowed to the rhythm of sleep.

Her imagination turned from wallowing in an ocean of self-pity to jumping onto a ship of fear. What if he moved in his sleep? Only an inch and he’d be touching her breasts. If she let herself fall asleep, there was no telling what might happen. What would Newton think if they were wrapped up together at dawn?

The warmth of his body calmed her. His slow steady breathing relaxed her. She stayed awake as long as she could, then finally decided if Jonathan Catlin planned to take liberties, he was sure taking his time about it. Maybe she should sleep.

* * *

Jonathan slipped away from Kara’s side just before dawn. He checked on Willis, who still slept soundly, then hurried to saddle the horses. He wanted to be on the road as soon as possible. They were still three, maybe four hours out of Fort Worth.

Twenty minutes later, Jonathan watched the sun lighten the sky from what was left of the Rineys’ barn loft. The world sparkled with dampness, making everything around him seem newborn. He never tired of the ever-changing weather. Somehow, in its inconsistency, the weather was one of the few constants in his life. No matter where he was, the seasons, the storms, the sun-rises and sunsets were a constantly shifting canvas that spread like a balm across his soul.

He wished his life could have a new dawn with all the past washed away. What would it be like to wake up one morning with no memories haunting him? He would give all he owned to be fool enough to believe in forever … or to love and think it might last … or to build a home and know it would stand. Experience had taught him otherwise. Nothing lasts and the more you care about something, or someone, the more it hurts when they’re gone.

Then why had he held Kara last night?

He told himself it was because she looked so pitiful crying by the fire. There was no doubt she’d been frightened and alone. He told himself he’d only been trying to help her. She mattered little to him. No more than any employee. He hadn’t asked for the burden of the ranch and all its people and problems, but he’d accepted it.

But why did he have to call her “darlin’?” An endearment he’d heard men use for women they cared about? A word he doubted he’d ever said aloud in his life.

Jonathan was tired of arguing with himself. He was obviously conversing with an idiot. There were more important matters with which to contend. Like getting Willis to a doctor as fast as possible and reaching Wolf’s sister while there was still time to help. If Nichole McLain needed him, he had to get there as fast as possible.

When he turned from the sunrise, he noticed Kara standing behind him, her fists balled at her waist, her stance wide. She was preparing to fight, and he wasn’t in the mood.

“About last night,” she began.

“Last night never happened,” he hissed as he brushed past her. The last thing he wanted was to have to tell her why he’d held her. If he did that, the next thing he’d be admitting was how many other times he’d almost touched her and how the boundaries he’d insisted on were imprisoning him far more than her.

The squeal and Irish swear she let out made him smile as he climbed from the loft. He almost reconsidered not taking time to argue. She was obviously in a state this morning.

When he saw her five minutes later in the house, he knew she was furious with him. She wouldn’t even look at him directly and addressed all her questions to Newton.

Jonathan didn’t try to explain. He reminded himself he never explained. Let her be mad. The angrier she was at him, the better their chances of staying away from one another. She wanted, all women wanted, something he couldn’t give … tenderness … forever.

Willis had improved, but was very weak. Jonathan and Newton decided it would be better to take him on to Fort Worth. There, Nichole’s husband could take a look at Willis while Jonathan found out what Nichole needed. She wouldn’t have sent for him unless it was important. Her husband, Adam McLain, was the finest doctor in the state.

Jonathan and Newton decided to take turns riding double with Willis. With luck they could be in Fort Worth by noon.

Jonathan locked his arm around Willis and held the reins in his other hand. He watched Kara struggling with her skirt as she climbed onto her horse. He wished he could help her. If she took to riding, he’d have the low bench brought out from the barn. His grandmother once used it as a step to mount. The old men said Victoria Catlin could ride like a champion when she was younger. He’d like to see Kara ride just for the pleasure of it.

She handled a horse well for one not used to doing so, but what amazed him was that she never complained. They’d gone through hell yesterday, and she hadn’t said a word. Yet when he’d held her and kept her warm, she’d been ready to fight. He found the contrast interesting.

They rode in silence for an hour. Willis would straighten and try to take the reins, then tire and fall asleep. Jonathan held him securely in the saddle.

An hour outside Fort Worth, Newton traded horses and took a shift behind Willis. As Jonathan swung into the saddle, he saw three riders coming fast from the direction of the town.

He pointed with his head, making Newton aware of them also. Both men unstrapped the leather loop holding their weapons in place.

As the riders neared, Jonathan recognized one of the men. A ranger who’d traveled with Wolf years ago.

“Catlin?” The ranger pulled his horse to a stop. Two men hung back several yards, their hands near the grips of their sidearms.

“Yes.” Jonathan noticed the ranger carefully studied them. He’d have to be blind not to see that they had an injured man. “It’s Ranger Davis, isn’t it?”

Davis smiled, knowing he had the right party. He signaled his men that all was well. “I was sent to locate you. You’ve changed considerably in the years since I’ve seen you. You were expected last night at the McLain place.”

“As you can see, we ran into some trouble.” Jonathan remembered Davis had been with Wolf and Wes one night when they’d hauled him out of jail at Fort Griffin. He wasn’t surprised Davis had trouble recognizing him. Jonathan had changed, at least on the outside. “We’ve got a man in need of care.”

Davis moved his horse closer. “I’ve orders to escort you as fast as possible to the springs known as Willow Brakes, south of town. Mrs. McLain will meet you there.”

Jonathan sensed something was wrong. Nichole McLain rarely left her husband’s side. “Where’s Adam McLain?” he asked. Adam was one of the few doctors in Texas who just might be able to help Willis.

“He’s in town. There wasn’t time for Nichole to tell him she was leaving. He was at the hospital when the jail break happened. Nichole followed the prisoner and I followed her.” The ranger looked like he was afraid he would say too much in front of the others. “My men can get the old fellow to Dr. McLain, but it’s imperative you come with me.”