Winter's Camp (4 page)

Smiling, he thought of all the good things she was about to experience and realized he wanted to be the one to show her, to teach her.

About dusk, the young ranger they’d first met rushed into the café, his fist full of papers. “I have news, finally,” Ranger Price said, taking the chair opposite James. “It took me longer than I thought it would. I had to telegraph Austin twice and Dallas several times to make sure my facts were right.”

James leaned forward. Millie moved her chair closer to him.

The ranger smiled up at Millie, but she looked away. He addressed his news to her, anyway. “We’ve found a record of your father’s death, miss. You have my condolences. Your father passed away three years ago in Jefferson. After you were taken, he stayed on the farm, hoping somehow you’d find your way back.”

Both men watched her, but no emotion showed. If she understood, she didn’t seem to care.

James cupped her face and turned her head toward him. “Millie, your father is no longer alive. Do you understand?”

She didn’t try to speak, but one tear bubbled over and trickled down her cheek.

He brushed it away with his thumb. “I’m sorry, Little Dove.”

Price shuffled his papers. “That’s not all. I have some good news and some bad, I’m afraid. A boy, who might be her brother, was located. He’s about the right age—thirteen. He has red hair. He was caught stealing horses a few months ago down near Austin. The sheriff tried to hold the boy, but he escaped. He was recaptured two weeks ago and, according to the sergeant who telegraphed me back, he’s been raising hell down near Fort Richardson ever since. Claims he’s Apache. Won’t speak a word of English.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Is that the good news or the bad?”

“The bad news is he shot a guard. Almost killed him. They’re hanging the kid as an adult at dawn four days from today.”

A tiny cry came from Millie. She leaned closer to James and pressed her face into the hollow between his shoulder and throat. “No,” she whispered. “No.”

James looked at the ranger. “Can I get there in time? If I don’t bring him back, we’ll never know if it was her brother or not.”

“It would be a hard ride, but you could make it.”

“Telegraph the fort and tell them to hold off the hanging until I get there. Tell them family is riding in to see the boy.”

Price looked at James. “You family, Captain?”

James wasn’t surprised Wilson had passed on a few war stories about him to the younger ranger.

“Joe told me who you were,” the young ranger admitted. “Said you were the bravest man who ever fought for the South. They say most bluecoats thought you were the devil come to fight.”

“I’m just a rancher now, Drew. The war has been over for a long time.” James thought about how it seemed more like a lifetime than seven years. “I think this boy might be the only one who can heal Miss O’Grady. The kid’s all the family she’s got left. It’s worth a try to bring him here.”

“You want me or Wilson to go along?”

“I doubt I’ll need help with a kid, but I’d appreciate it if one of you would check in on this lady. Talk to her, tell her what’s happening. She might not talk back, but she’ll understand. I’ll wire when I can.”

Price looked at James. “I’ll do what I can to delay the hanging, Captain. If there’s a ranger at the fort, I’ll send orders to burn the gallows if he has to.” He turned to Millie. “I’d be happy to visit her every day. Widow Harris feeds every ranger that drops by.”

James stood and shook hands with Drew as he added, “Show me the widow’s house.” He swung Millie up into his arms. “This little lady has had about all she can take tonight. I’ll see her safe and then I’ll ride.”

The ranger followed James out. “Before you leave, stop by the office. Wilson said you should be sworn in before you go after the kid. We’ll give you a list of places that will trade out horses with rangers. If it doesn’t rain, you’ll make it.”

CHAPTER SIX

M
ILLIE TRIED TO
understand what was going on. James had left his other horses at the ranger station, and they rode away from the main street through dark roads hemmed in by cold, windowless buildings. The brick walls formed a canyon without beauty. James held her tightly in front of him as the ranger trailed behind. He talked but she did not listen. All that he’d told her in the café whirled around in her mind. Her father was dead. Her little brother might be alive, but it meant James was leaving her. Sorrow, joy and fear were at war in her mind.

“I swear I’ll be back,” James whispered against her ear. “I’ll leave you somewhere safe, I promise. If this boy at Fort Richardson is your brother, I’ll bring him back.”

Pressing her cheek against his chest, she fought tears. He had never lied to her.

His hand brushed over her shoulder. “You’ll have family again, Millie. You’ll have Andy back.”

She nodded slightly. That world she had been ripped from long ago seemed more a dream than real. Her life was with James now, even if he did not see it or speak of any future.

All too soon they reached the edge of town where a cottage sat in a forest of fruit trees. A round little woman with sunshine in her smile greeted them. Millie liked her right away. The kind woman spoke slowly and waited for Millie to answer or nod before she moved on.

Millie understood she had to stay at this place, but when James stood to leave, she could not seem to turn loose of his hand. “Take me, James. Take me with you.”

Mrs. Harris was a kind old woman, but Millie wanted to go with him. She had to stay with him. Nowhere else in the world was safe.

He knelt beside her chair in a house filled with so many things she could not look at them all. “Millie, listen to me. I’m coming back.”

She shook her head. In her experience people never came back.

“I want you to rest here. Do what Mrs. Harris tells you. The rangers will check on you. If I can, I’ll let them know what I find at the fort.” Slowly, he pulled his hand from hers. “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back with Andrew.”

Turning his back to Millie, James handed Mrs. Harris a pouch. “Take what you need from this for her keep. Buy her clothes and anything else she needs.”

Millie closed her eyes. James was not trading her away. He was paying someone to take care of her. He’d told her many times at the camp that all he wanted was to start a ranch. His dreams were in the money pouch, he’d said. Now he was giving part of what he had saved away to pay for her care.

“Millie, listen to me.” He surprised her when she opened her eyes and found him close. “I’ll be back in a few days and when I do I expect you to have learned to make an apple pie as good as the one we just ate. Mrs. Harris will teach you.”

She tried not to listen, but he was too close to ignore.

James smiled at her. “If you could make a pie like that, you’d be just about perfect, Millie.”

She remembered all the nights he had wished for a dessert. She had not remembered desserts, but James would rhyme off all the things he loved. Apple pie was always the first on his list.

Moving closer, Mrs. Harris smiled at Millie but spoke to James. “I’ll be happy to teach her, Mr. Kirkland. She can sleep and eat all she wants, but if she wants me to teach her to cook, I’d be tickled.”

Millie followed him to the door as he said goodbye to the others. On the porch, he pulled her against him and kissed her. “I’m coming back for you, Millie. I swear. No matter how long it takes, a few days or a month, I’m coming back.”

Nodding, she straightened. This man had never lied to her. She would believe him now.

He smiled down at her and said, “Stay here. Learn what you can.” For once the words seem to come hard for him. “You hold my heart, Millie O’Grady.”

Then, as if he had said too much, he was gone.

* * *

M
ILLIE STOOD STARING
into the night, wishing she could see one more glimpse of him, but the brick-and-wood canyon of the town gobbled him up. She fought to keep from trembling. He had said she would be safe. He had to go find Andrew. She had no choice but to stay and wait.

The porch door creaked and Mrs. Harris stepped outside. “This is a place of peace, child. You’ll like it here.”

Millie turned to the little, round woman. “Thank you.” For the first time since the day she’d seen her mother die, she trusted someone quickly. James would be back. Until then, she had Mrs. Harris.

“I want to learn everything.” Millie straightened her back.

“Then we’ll have long days,” Mrs. Harris said. “And some fun talking.”

Millie kept to her promise. She learned all she could each day, but during the nights, she cried for her canyon man.

CHAPTER SEVEN

D
AWN FEATHERED ALONG
the eastern sky as James rode into Fort Richardson. The sight of so many men in blue uniforms bothered him. Memories and nightmares danced in his thoughts, but he pushed them aside as soon as the gallows came into view. Three nooses hung empty, waiting above the ten-foot-high stage. James couldn’t change the past, but if he was lucky, he might be able to change one boy’s future.

Walking up to the guard on duty, James announced, “I’m here to see Sergeant Gunther.” James straightened, trying to not look as tired as he felt. “I’m...” He hesitated, almost saying Captain Kirkland for the first time in years. “I’m James Kirkland from Fort Worth.”

“Yes, sir.” The private stared at the badge James wore. The circle star marked James as a ranger. “This way, Ranger Kirkland. We’ve been expecting you.”

James thought they’d take him right to the stockade, but the private marched him into post headquarters.

“The sergeant is at breakfast but will be in as soon as he’s finished with muster. Our captain and the lieutenant are in Austin, so Gunther is in charge.” The private nodded toward two chairs in front of a massive desk. “Please, Ranger Kirkland, make yourself comfortable.”

The room was still cast in morning shadows, but a freshly lit fire warmed the frosty air. James was asleep in one of the chairs almost before the door closed.

He dreamed of cold nights at his winter camp. Millie was curled in at his side, sleeping so soundly she did not wake when he ran his fingers into her soft curls and kissed her forehead.

James woke when footsteps sounded just outside the door. He had no idea if it had been five minutes or five hours. A moment before the door popped open, James noticed full daylight filled the window.

A sergeant whom he assumed was Gunther—wide as the door—stormed into his office, followed by two men dragging five feet of chained trouble between them. The prisoner was dressed in traditional Apache clothing. From the looks of his leather and beaded vest he, or his adopted father, was of high rank in the tribe. Braids hung over his thin shoulders. Red braids, the same shade of the Red River mud.

James stood and stared. Every inch of skin showing on the kid seemed to be covered with bruises or cuts or dried blood. One of his eyes was swollen closed and the other glared straight at James with pure hatred.

Blue eyes, James noticed. The same color as Millie’s.

The sergeant took command. “I’m assuming you are the Kirkland the rangers have been telling me is coming.”

“I am.”

“Well, here’s the boy you wanted to see. Claims he’s Apache. Won’t speak a word of English, assuming he knows any. I don’t like the idea of hanging him like a man. Anyone can see he ain’t full grown, but no one will claim him. In coloring and age he matches an O’Grady child who disappeared several years ago. I’ve no place to send him, and if I let him go, he’ll keep stealing and trying to kill anyone who gets in his way.”

The kid jerked and jabbed his elbow into the ribs of one of the guards holding him. When the soldier folded over in pain, he slammed his bound hands against the man’s face, drawing blood where the chains connected with his jaw. The other guard responded, almost knocking the prisoner down with one swing.

The boy slumped, too hurt to fight back.

James studied what might be Millie’s brother; her only living relative as far as he knew. “Your men put all these bruises on him?” James stared directly at the man in charge.

“For every one he’s got, I’ve got a guard who’s got two.” Gunther swore. “I’ve seen tornadoes cause less damage to the fort.”

“He’s just a boy,” James said, guessing the kid wouldn’t stop fighting until someone hit him too hard and he died. He must be scared and angry and alone...and deadly.

Sergeant Gunther stood almost nose-to-nose with James. “Ranger Wilson said to grant you with full authority of the rangers behind you. If you want him, Kirkland, he’s all yours, but if you find out he’s not the boy you are looking for, you’re not to bring him back here. Do I make myself clear?”

James knew if he
was
wrong, he’d be in real trouble. He walked over to the kid, who raised his head until one blue eye glared up at him.

“You’re coming with me, Andy. Your sister Millie is waiting for you.”

The flash sparked in the boy’s eye so fast James would have missed it if he hadn’t been staring. But it was there. His name, or maybe his sister’s, had brought back a memory.

Turning to the sergeant, James said, “I’ll need a wagon and all the rope you can spare. I’m taking him back to his family.”

“You want chains?” Gunther grinned, happy to see one of his problems leaving.

“No. I’ll tie him up so he doesn’t run. I don’t consider him a prisoner.” James raised his voice. “If he cooperates, there will be no need for chains.”

The sergeant looked at one of the men. “Loan him a wagon and all the rope you can find. Pull down the third noose and toss that in, too.” The big man glared at James. “You’re taking quite a risk, Kirkland. What’s the kid to you anyway?”

James shrugged. “I think he’s about to be my brother-in-law.”

The sergeant’s laughter shook the building. When he finally calmed down, he ordered everyone to help tie the kid in the wagon. As they walked outside he added, “I married a woman once without meeting her mother. When she came to live with us, I swore she was the devil’s sister, but, Kirkland, she was nothing compared to this kid. If I were you I’d give up sleep permanently.”

Six men saddled up to escort James far enough away to be out of the fort’s territory. After that, they would be on their own. For a moment James feared he might not be up to the task. They had many miles to cover, and he couldn’t stay awake all the way back even with a bloodthirsty wild kid waiting for his chance to kill him.

While two men stood guard the first night, James tried to catch up on sleep, but the boy worried him. First, he feared Andy might kill one of the guards trying to get away, or if he tried and failed, the guards might gang up on him and murder Andy while James slept. All six seemed like good men. They also all had bruises, and none treated Andy as though he was anything more than an animal.

Traveling by wagon was slow. They would be lucky to make half the distance he’d made on horseback. With the wagon, they had to follow roads and couldn’t cut across country.

By the third day James was tired of listening to the prisoner kick and struggle with the ropes, so he started talking.

He wasn’t sure if his talking bothered Andy, but it sure bothered the guards. They said their quick farewell as soon as James woke the fourth morning on the trail. All at once he was alone with a tied-up kid.

Unlike Millie, Andrew O’Grady, if that was his name, didn’t silently ignore him. James might not know the language, but he had no doubt that he and all his ancestors were being cussed out. Every time James said something, Andy shot back with what had to be an insult.

Judging from the fire in his eyes, Andrew would happily murder James if he got the chance.

After two sleepless nights James was happy to see a town. He talked the sheriff into locking the boy up, his hands and feet still tied. While Andy gulped down a meal, James went to sleep a few cells away.

The kid must have been just as tired because the sheriff said they both slept the clock around.

The next day as they started off, James didn’t secure Andrew with as many ropes as usual. Dark clouds promised rain and the boy looked as though he planned to sleep the day away. Some of the fight must have gone out of him, or maybe Andy had realized James meant him no harm. Though James still talked about the ranch he would build someday, Andy stopped yelling back. He might not be listening, but at least he was quiet. James saw that as progress.

That night, both were soaking wet by the time they made camp inside a rough lean-to built for travelers. James let the kid sit by the fire and eat his supper. He wasn’t friendly. For the most part he simply ignored James—until Andy took a few swings at him. James tied him to the wagon wheel but left enough lead so that Andy could curl up under the wagon to sleep.

The next morning when James woke, the boy was gone. After he cussed himself for a few minutes he realized two things. Andy hadn’t taken any of the horses and he hadn’t tried to kill him in his sleep.

Both facts pointed to one thing: the boy was in a big hurry. Must’ve been almost first light when he’d worked himself free.

Using skills he’d learned in the war, James began to track the kid. The rain had stopped, but the mud made tracking easy. Five hours later he found him asleep in a pile of leaves at the base of a tree. He must have run as far as he could and then collapsed in exhaustion. The boy was dirty, cold, bone-thin and still rough as they come. If he lived to be a man, he just might be worth the knowing.

Funny, the tough kid didn’t look near as mean curled up in sleep. He looked more like a frightened child.

James stood above him, really seeing him for the first time. Despite all his fire and anger, he was still just a boy.

Slipping a rope gently over Andy’s wrists, James circled a loop around the tree behind Andy and secured it. He tugged hard and sat on the boy’s chest.

Andy woke with a start, but couldn’t move. His hands were pulled above him and James’s weight held him down.

“Now, I’m only going to say this once, Andy.” James hoped the kid understood. He pointed south. “I’m taking you to Millie. If you keep fighting and running, we’re never going to get there... She told me your mother called you Andrew Jackson O’Grady when she was angry. So, Andrew, listen up. We’re going back to your sister one way or the other. You’re all the family she has and Millie remembers you whether or not you remember her. Now, will you go along without a fight or should I just sit awhile right here?”

The boy simply stared for a long moment. Then, to his surprise, Andy nodded once.

James had gotten through to the kid. He could see it in the boy’s eyes. Andy might still hate him, but he remembered his sister’s name and if he had to, he’d put up with James to get to her.

Slowly, holding the rope tight, James stood. If they didn’t reach some kind of a peace he doubted either of them would make it back to Fort Worth.

Andy waited for him to remove the rope from the tree, then the kid followed James, his hands still bound.

“Millie,” James said as he waited for the boy to climb into the wagon.

To his surprise, Andy nodded once and rolled into the wagon bed.

It might not be peace, but at least it wasn’t all-out war. James could live with that, he decided as he looped the ropes over Andy’s hands and feet. “I’ll get you back to Millie. I promise.”

James secured to the kid to the wagon during the day, but Andy no longer fought or yelled. He seemed to be waiting to see what would happen next. As the days passed, James gave up trying to talk to the kid but he never let his guard down.

He thought about Millie and what he’d say to her when he finally made it back. There was so much he’d never said. At night he dreamed of holding her. Each day he pushed the horses as hard as he could, but the trip seemed endless.

Deep inside he knew Millie was waiting, missing him just as dearly.

* * *

W
HEN THEY REACHED
Fort Worth, James stopped by the ranger office for Drew Price. If the ranger thought it strange that James had a boy tied in the back of the wagon, he made no comment.

“I dropped by Mrs. Harris’s house every morning, Captain,” Drew said as if reporting in. “Your Millie is doing well. I’ve always heard that the widow could do wonders, but I’d never seen it before. Two days after you left she had Millie wearing proper clothes. Yesterday, the two of them were talking so much, laughing about their cooking lessons, that I could hardly get a word in.”

“Millie was talking?” James had seen her smile a few times, but never laugh.

“Sure. She talks. Goes slow sometimes, like she’s tasting a word before she spits it out, but she’s talking.” Drew hesitated. “Is she your woman, Captain, or are you just helping her out?”

James didn’t want to answer the question. The hundred times he’d sworn he’d never marry sat in his mind. He ached to hold her, but if he were being honest he’d have to admit she didn’t belong to him. “She’s not mine.”

When he glanced over at Drew, James frowned. The young ranger was smiling.

Telling himself he needed to check on her, James wouldn’t admit that he couldn’t wait to see her. He slapped the reins. A few minutes later they were climbing out of the wagon and hauling Andy into Mrs. Harris’s house with them.

The fight was back in the boy. He struggled to get loose, but it wasn’t full-out war. Maybe he was finally afraid of something...facing a world he’d once known.

When James stumbled into the parlor the two women turned from their sewing. Mrs. Harris looked surprised, but Millie jumped up and ran to him. She was dressed in calico and lace; a proper young lady now with combs in her hair and an apron around her waist.

She was almost in his arms when she spotted Drew Price in the doorway, holding the boy.

She went pale, and for a moment James thought she might faint. She moved slowly to the door and stared at the boy. They were almost the same height. Even through the layers of dirt and bruises on Andrew there was no doubt that the two were related.

Reaching out, she gently touched the bruises that marked his arms, then glanced back at James.

“He was in worse shape when I picked him up,” he said. “Fought everyone who came near. Not one bruise is my doing, Millie. You have my word.”

She nodded and turned back to the boy. “Andy,” she whispered. “My brother.”

The boy watched her, not as accepting or trusting as she was. Finally he spoke to her in Apache. Only a few words, but Millie seemed to understand.

She nodded then translated his words for James. “He asked if I am from his tribe long ago.”

James let out a breath that he felt he’d been holding for almost two weeks. He’d found her brother.