Wayward Wind (21 page)

“Sheeit, Hollis. C’mon.” Billy pulled on his arm. “Ya know where to find us, Frank,” the small man said with a show of bravado
in his voice. “Brice ain’t agoin’ to like what ya done a’tall. He ain’t forgettin’ ’twas Lorna what took his woman ’n hid
her off somewheres. He’s likely to be acomin’ to pay ya a visit.”

“Aye, he’s likely to come,” Frank said. His tone told Lorna that his spurt of courage was leaving him. His shoulders slumped
and he followed the two men out to the porch.

As soon as they were alone, Cooper looked at Lorna. Bright shards of anger danced in his eyes. Anger had taken him so completely
that he went white and stared at her in terrible silence for what seemed to her an eternity.

“I should use this quirt on you!” he said coldly and threw it from him. “Don’t ever deal yourself in on my fight again. Do
you understand?”

“He’d have killed you!” She stared back at him, swept by her own rage, her body rigid.

“I think not!”

“He would have. I know him. He’s mean and—”

“I had him covered before his hand touched his gun.”

“I didn’t know that!”

“You didn’t look.
You
could’ve gotten me killed and I don’t take kindly to
that
!”

“No! I wouldn’t have let him—”

“Can’t you get it through that stubborn head of yours, Lorna? The
other
man could have killed me if he’d had a mind to when you distracted me by dealing yourself in!”

“I’m sorry—”

“You’re a take-over, headstrong woman, Lorna—”

“I’m not!” she stormed. Her violet eyes, beneath level dark brows, were icy with anger. “I’m not a weak little flower to stand
by and let someone else do the fighting for me. I’ve had to learn to take care of myself or I’d have been taken over long
ago by such as Hollis and Billy.”

Cooper wasn’t satisfied with that. “I’m not talking about taking up for yourself. I’m saying you had no business butting in!
It was between him and me. I didn’t want you and your pa in on it.”

“Hellfire! You’re just like
them
! You think a woman ought to be seen, but not heard, whipped and used till they’re all broken down like a used up horse, then
thrown out. I’ll not be like them, I tell you,” she yelled. “I have just as much brains as any man I ever saw and a heck of
a lot more than most, Cooper Parnell!”

“Oh… hell!” Cooper put emphasis on the last word and took his hat from the peg beside the door.

Lorna took a step toward him, reached the chair and held tightly to the back of it. “Are you leaving?” she asked tightly,
fighting back angry tears.

“Not till morning.
I’m
not foolhardy enough to ride out and get myself waylaid.” He jammed his hat down on his head. “I’ll sleep in the shed, if
that’s all right with you,
ma’am
.”

“I’ll fix you some supper.”

“Don’t bother. I’ve still got some jerky in my saddlebag.’

He went out the door and Lorna could hear his bootheels thumping on the porch planks as he crossed it.

Frank stood on the edge of the porch. He watched Hollis and Billy ride away from the homestead, and listened to the threats
they yelled back at him until darkness and distance swallowed them.

“Brice won’t like this a’tall, Frank.”

“Brice’ll be acomin’ to see if’n yo’re standin’ agin us.”

“Lorna’d better watch out. I ain’t havin’ no woman usin’ a whip on me like she done.”

“That outlander ain’t here but fer one thin’, Frank, ’n ya know what
that
is.”

When their voices faded, Frank’s big shoulders slumped wearily. He’d been willing to ignore their lawlessness, not even bothering
to tell Lorna he’d had no part in it. All he’d ever wanted of Brice and his outfit of ne’er-do-wells was the companionship
they provided; a few games of cards, an evening of drinking, a way to pass the time.

Aye, but time passed so slowly. Every day was a week, every week a year. Spring, summer, fall, winter, all the same.

“Nora, sweet lass, why did ye leave me?” he murmured. ‘Ye were all that’s ever been good in me life. Ye left an empty shell
of a mon to mourn ye, a mon who can’t stand the sight of his own flesh and blood, for she be the spittin’ image of ye.”

Suddenly an incredible awareness of what his life had become descended upon Frank and revealed to him his utter uselessness.
What a failure he’d been! What an utter failure. He began to tremble, unable to move. He hooked his arm around the porch post
for support and clung there, staring out into the darkness. A vision of Nora’s laughing face danced before his eyes, or was
it Lorna’s face? The two had blended into one, of late. He closed his eyes; it was still there. Sweet, sweet Nora with the
soft, soothing hands, warm, clinging body, and dainty ways. She’d been a thing of beauty to be loved and cherished. His love
for her had been all-consuming and he’d wanted desperately to take her to a home of his own making, but she couldn’t bring
herself to leave this accursed mountain and he couldn’t leave her.

“Accursed mountain?” he said the words aloud and suddenly it was as if the words he’d uttered were blasphemous. Light’s Mountain
had been his home for more than twenty years; half of his lifetime had been spent here. The only happiness he’d ever known
had been here on this mountain. How could he say it was accursed? Could he
really
leave it, as he had longed to do all these years? Could he leave all that was left of Nora?

“Ach! It’s looney, I be, to think of it.” His whispered voice was rough with emotion and tears filled his eyes and began to
flow down his cheeks.

The revelation of his true feelings was so astonishing it brought on a sudden faintness, drawing all the strength out of him.
He sank down on the end of the porch. A thousand sweet memories swept over him; memories of lying with Nora in the deep feather
bed; soft, clinging arms; whispered words of love; long winter evenings spent before a roaring fire. He thought about the
Thanksgivings they’d shared, and the Christmases. The Lightbody family had accepted him for himself, their daughter had loved
him, and he had returned so little. He’d not even tried to understand his child; flesh of his beloved Nora.

Frank began to see clearly what he had become. He’d been living in his own world of resentment and self-pity. His boundless
pride had made his world a living hell, and refused to let him appreciate what he had. He’d spent wasted years longing to
make his own mark as Light had done. Dear sweet Jesus! He’d done what he’d been destined to do. He’d made his woman happy
and together they’d created a bairn who would carry their flesh and blood on into the next generation. He’d had more happiness
during the few short years with Nora than most men had in a lifetime.

Frank lifted his head and listened to the sounds coming from the house; sounds made by his Nora’s bairn. He hadn’t really
looked at the girl or listened to her for so long that she had grown into a woman without his realizing it. Now, a man had
come, a stranger, and his bairn was in love with him. It was the same as when
he
came to Light’s Mountain, a stranger, and Nora had fallen in love with him, not knowing or caring about where he came from,
or where he was going. She had merely looked at him and he at her, and they both had known he would stay with her forever.

Frank stood and walked out into the yard so he could look back at the house. The lamplight shone from the kitchen window.
For once, he felt no bitterness or shame for what he hadn’t accomplished. Pride, anger, even his grief, were self-centered
preoccupations for which there was no room in his thoughts at this moment. No other course was open to him now but to dedicate
himself, humbly and honestly, to this place so future generations would know where they had come from; something, he thought,
he’d never know about himself because he only started to live when he came there.

He walked slowly across the plank that spanned the creek and up the hill toward the burial grounds. He’d walked this path
many times in the dark of the night, when peace would come to his troubled mind only while he sat beside Nora’s final resting
place. He reached the grave and stood for a moment with head bowed, then eased himself down onto the ground, wrapped his arms
around his bent legs and rested his head on his knees.

“Nora, Nora, me darlin’ lass, me heart is sore ’n weary. I know it’s wrong I been to push our bairn from me. Dinna be lovin’
me the less fer it, fer my heart had no room but for ye. It’s sorry I be…”

Frank felt the warm, thick flood of tears rising to his eyes and he was helpless against them. They rolled down his cheeks
and fell onto the abundance of wild flowers he’d planted years ago and since had tended with loving care. Unashamed, he allowed
them to fall, for there was no one to see or care; no one but… Nora.

Lorna had never felt so desolate in all her life. The quarrel with Cooper had put such a strain on her that she felt faintly
ill with weakness. A lump rose in her throat. She swallowed it with difficulty and looked down at her hands that were clamped
to the back of the chair. She’d ruined everything! she thought miserably. A shiver passed over her when she realized how little
time she had to try and make things right with Cooper.
Damn Hollis and Billy! Damn Brice Fulton!

Through the fog of despair that hung over her, Lorna’s thoughts turned to her father, and how he had stood up for her against
Hollis. She felt a spurt of affection for the moody, gruff Scot who, at times, was like a stranger to her. Was it possible
he’d been worried about her during the days, weeks, she’d been away? Was his anxiety for her the cause of his rudeness to
Cooper? On more than one occasion she had been away from home visiting White Bull’s camp or out panning for gold with Moose
and Woody and he hadn’t seemed to notice she’d been gone.
He showed more concern for her tonight than he had for years
. The thought was a pleasant surprise to her troubled mind.

Lorna stood quietly for a moment, staring at the shadows on the floor made by the lamplight. Then, with extraordinary clearness
of mind, she began to put things in their right perspective.

There would be time, she reasoned, to settle with Hollis and Billy for embarrassing her in front of Cooper. And there would
be time to find out if Frank really had had a change of mind about getting tangled up with Brice Fulton and his outfit. Right
now, she had to fix a good supper for Cooper and take it to him. He was too angry to come back to the house tonight, and come
daylight he’d ride out. The thought of him leaving was almost too painful to think about.

Lorna lifted the trap door to the cellar, set the lamp on the floor, then went quickly down the steep steps. She filled a
small tin bucket with fresh milk, thinking the cellar was as neat and tidy as when she had left it. Frank, for all his grumpiness,
was neat and clean in both his person and the house, and for that she was thankful.

Back in the kitchen she checked the basket to be sure the hard-boiled eggs had not rolled on the fried mush and that the hot
biscuits were not next to the butter. She blew out the lamp. While she waited for her eyes to adjust to the total darkness,
she smoothed her hair back with her palms and took several deep breaths in an attempt to slow her racing heart.

The cool night air felt good on her face, flushed from the heat of the cookstove, and reminded her that it was early September.
Soon the nights would turn cold and the sky would be filled with the long streamers of southbound geese and ducks. During
the next few weeks she would be busy preparing for winter as had her mother, grandmother and Maggie before her. She would
smoke venison, elk meat and dozens of turkeys, render bear oil and fill crocks with nuts and berries imbedded in goose fat.

There would be the hunt for a honey tree. That thought brought Volney to her mind. Her old friend had, for years, told her
where to find the honey tree. Something her pa had said came instantly to her mind:
Cripple an oold mon like ye done.
Had Hollis and Brice hurt Volney? Her steps quickened and by the time she reached the shed she was almost running.

“Cooper? Are you in here?”

“I’m out here.”

His voice came from the side and she spun around to see the glow of a cigarette in the darkness beside the woodpile and went
toward it. Cooper was sitting on a log Frank had dragged down from the hillside to cut up for firewood.

“I brought your supper.” She stood hesitantly before him.

“And I’m worried that Brice and Hollis have hurt Volney,” she blurted. “They would if they thought he’d helped me get Bonnie
away.”

“Why don’t you ask your pa?”

“I will.” In the darkness she could see only the tilt of his head as he looked at her. “Cooper, I’m sorry.”

He didn’t answer immediately, then he said, “You’re the most irritating woman I’ve ever met up with. One minute I want to
swat your bottom, the next minute I want to kiss you senseless.” His hand came out to clasp her arm and pull her closer to
him. “What did you bring me to eat?” he demanded gruffly. “If it’s good, and there’s plenty, I might decide to let you off
with only a pinch or two.”

“It’s as good as I could do on short notice.” His teasing words lifted her spirits. She put the basket on his knees and sat
down close beside him, holding the pail of milk in her lap with one hand and hugging his arm with the other. “Oh, Cooper!
I’m so glad you’re not still mad at me.”

“Hellfire! I didn’t say that. I need to eat and get my strength up in case I decide to whip your hind.” He popped a biscuit
in his mouth. “Not bad,” he said with his mouth full. “What’s this? Fried mush? Fried in grease from something smoked.”

“Hot fat,” she said happily. “We smoked one last winter. I keep the grease in the cellar so it won’t get rancid.”

“Uh huh.”

Lorna wisely remained silent while he was eating, content to be sitting close to him, holding the milk pail he occasionally
reached for. She could feel his lean, long body against hers and was conscious of his upper arm and shoulder where she could
rest her head if she tilted it the slightest bit. A slice of moon, on its way across the night sky, appeared from behind a
cloud. She could see that he was looking at her and that his unswerving gaze was like a caress. The look in his eyes took
her breath away and left her trembling with happiness. This was heaven, she thought, nothing better could exist in this world,
except—to be with him wholly and completely.