A Dream to Call My Own (18 page)

“This looks like the perfect opportunity,” Wyman said. The words were muffled and Cubby had to strain to hear. “Reg and Sam said they’d take care of Big John.”

“Good. That’s one less thing to worry about.”

“Hey, how about some whiskey!” a man called from the bar.

Cubby reluctantly turned from the door. He had no idea what his father was up to, but it couldn’t be good.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“So we all agree to be back here by nightfall?” Dave questioned.

Lacy nodded, although she felt they were wasting time by going over all these details. Hank and Nick mounted their horses while Beth and Gwen looked on from the porch.

“We’ll continue searching around here,” Gwen assured.

Lacy was shifting her weight in her saddle when, to her surprise, Cubby sauntered reluctantly over to the group. “Pa is sending me out to look for Justin in our area. I just wanted you to know I’d check out the tent city and down by the river.” He cast a glance up at Lacy and quickly looked away.

“Good,” Hank replied. “We’ve all agreed to be back here by nightfall. As best as I can guess, that will give us a couple of hours to search.”

Lacy gave a whistle for Major and headed out. She felt there had been more than enough talk and not enough action. Justin could have gone most anywhere by now. The boy was fit and strong, used to walking and playing in the area. He could have all sorts of hiding places.

The trail that led out toward the Vanhoutens’ former place was generally well traveled, as it reached beyond to other ranches in the area. Lacy hoped she might even meet someone heading into town to ask if they’d seen the boy, but no one seemed to be out and about.

To the west, dark billowy clouds gathered on the horizon, suggesting some rain for the valley was soon to come. Lacy didn’t give it much thought. The weather had been teasing them for days now, and the showers had either gone around them or dissipated to nothing more than a few sprinkles.

“Well, what do you think, Major?” Lacy got down from her horse and examined the road for any sign of tracks. “Did he come this way?”

The dog sniffed around the ground and seemed not the least interested in the reason they were there. He was far too busy enjoying the new scents and keeping watch for a wayward rabbit.

Lacy walked for a ways, leading her horse and paying close attention to details on the ground. This road got very little foot traffic, so if Justin had come this way it should be fairly easy to spot his prints.

“Children certainly seem to be endless sources of trouble,” she told the dog. “Maybe I’d be better off not to have any.” She wondered how Dave would feel if she told him she didn’t want any offspring.

She thought of Dave and wondered what she was going to do about him and their wedding. He’d been very patient and, in fact, hadn’t forced her to contemplate setting a date or even talk about the event since Pastor Flikkema had left. Instead, he’d merely been companionable, sharing her company when time permitted—which was rare these days. So many problems had developed with the gold rush that Dave had been far busier with legal issues than ones that had to do with marriage.

It had been a nice reprieve. She’d been able to think about marrying Dave without the pressure of everyone expecting her decisions on a date, her dress, and who would perform the ceremony. In fact, the peacefulness had allowed Lacy to fall rather comfortably into the idea of wedding Dave Shepard. It seemed especially appealing now that she knew they would live at the ranch with his parents. It made her feel less ill-equipped to face her responsibilities. If she couldn’t cook well enough, Patience would be there to show her what to do. And if Lacy couldn’t figure out what to say to Dave during dinner conversation, there would be other people with whom she could converse.

Beth had told her she was silly, that most newlyweds would prefer privacy to living with one’s parents, but Lacy also knew she wasn’t like most folks. She still worried greatly about failing in her role as a wife. Having someone of Patience Shepard’s experience seemed a good way for Lacy to avoid hurting a new husband by her own inexperience.

Of course, there would be times when the others weren’t around. She tried not to think about what her nights alone with Dave might be like. She knew there was a strong physical attraction between the two of them and didn’t figure they would struggle too much in the area of intimacy. Lacy felt her cheeks grow hot just contemplating such a thing.

She blew out a heavy breath. “But do I love him?” Lacy had asked herself this question at least five hundred times a day. She knew she felt affection for Dave. He was handsome and definitely a good kisser. He was kind to her and gentle most of the time. Why, he’d even given up most of his negative, almost parental, dictating of what she should and shouldn’t do. For example, he hadn’t suggested she ride with him or anyone else tonight. He’d merely nodded in agreement when she suggested riding out toward what was now his house.

“Someday it will be ours,” she said.

Major whined and gave a glance down the road in the direction of home. Lacy shook her head. “No, come on, boy. We aren’t done yet.”

Lacy had walked another fifteen or twenty feet, leading the horse and paying close attention to the ground, when she caught sight of a small boot print. She’d learned to track at an early age. Her father had been quite good, and Lacy seemed to have a natural talent at picking it up. When she’d been no more than eight, their father had taken in a wounded elderly Crow Indian named Two Elks. The man had been beaten by several local cowboys and left to die. George Gallatin had taken pity on the man and brought him home to be nursed back to health, much to the concern of his family.

Two Elks had healed quickly and as he shared time with them, he had taught Lacy how to pay attention to changes in her surroundings. She had learned to watch the trees for signs of animal activity, as well as to note broken vegetation or tufts of fur left behind on the trail. But her favorite had been the tracking lessons. Not only did she get to increase the knowledge her father had given her, but it was during that time Two Elks told her stories about his boyhood.

She knelt and put her finger to the dusty outline. Surely it belonged to Justin. It seemed a bit larger than the size she’d remembered him wearing, but it was too far away from town to be just anyone traipsing through. Searching with great patience, Lacy found two more prints mingled with those of horse hooves, all headed in a westerly direction.

“Justin!” she called out, getting to her feet. “Justin!”

“Now that we don’t have to worry about your son overhearing us,” Mulholland told the other three men, “we can get down to business.”

Rafe nodded and looked to Wyman. “Have you sent out the boys to deal with Big John?”

“About twenty minutes ago. They won’t come back until the job is done,” Wyman assured him. “It won’t be that hard. They’ll prob’ly tend to business sometime in the night. I’d expect them back by tomorrow evening.”

“And are the others ready to head out and deal with Deputy Shepard?” Mulholland asked.

Rafe felt his gut tighten just a bit at the thought of killing the deputy. Sure, he could be pesky and interfering, but Rafe didn’t really want to see the man dead. Still, he most likely knew too much, and he wouldn’t hesitate to use it against Rafe.

“They’re ready. Do you want him killed straight out?” Wyman asked.

“No,” Mulholland stated before Rafe could speak. “It might serve us well to know if he’s talked to anyone else. Take him to the Camp Creek hideout and wait for further instructions. Rough him up a bit if you like, but leave him alive.”

“I’d be happy to oblige with the roughing up,” Wyman said. “That man’s been a bur under my saddle for a long time now. Always snoopin’ around, wanting to know who killed George Gallatin or if we have any idea who’s ridin’ with the highwaymen.”

Mulholland nodded and gave a laugh. “Maybe you could share that news with him before you kill him. At least he can die having a few answers.”

All the men laughed, with the exception of Rafe. He was feeling a little sick from the events of the evening.

“What if he’s found that Lassiter brat?” the man at Wyman’s right asked.

Mulholland considered this for a moment. “Well, you had to deal with him once before, as I recall.”

The man nodded. “Didn’t hurt him none though. I don’t particularly care for killing children.”

“And I can well understand that, Clarence. You have a soft heart,” Mulholland said, smiling. “If you can keep the brat from knowing your identity, leave him behind. Take Shepard and let the boy find his own way home.” He looked at Rafe. “Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Rafe was already feeling hesitant about killing Dave. There was no chance he wanted to have a child’s blood on his hands, as well.

“You’re looking a bit green,” Wyman said, eyeing Rafe with a raised brow.

Rafe pulled at his waistband and gave a snort. “Nothin’ wrong with me. I just want this done with. The sooner we get this resolved, the sooner we can move on with our plans.”

“He’s right,” Mulholland said. “I suggest you boys get to work. Send someone back to let us know when you have Shepard secured. Then we can deal with getting answers out of him.”

Lacy continued calling for her nephew from time to time, but there was no response. As she led the horse farther toward the Vanhouten house, she noted the growing darkness and the approaching storm. Lightning flashed in the mountains to the west, and thunder rumbled as a promise of things to come. If she turned around now, Lacy knew she might make it back to the house before the rain started to fall. But she also knew she would probably lose any hope of picking up Justin’s tracks.

“They’re expecting everyone back, but I can’t just quit,” she told Major. “Let’s at least get to the house and see if there’s any sign of Justin there. Maybe we can hole up until the worst of the storm passes and then get back to tracking.”

But she knew this idea was nonsense. Once the storm dissolved any traces of the boy’s tracks, she would be at the mercy of her own guesswork and the pitch black of the night. The idea of leaving the boy to weather the storm on his own and then try to get back safely to his family, however, kept Lacy from giving up.

Another mile and Lacy caught sight of the white ranch house and outbuildings that had once belonged to the Van-houtens. She’d always liked this spread. There were plenty of trees and pretty flower gardens, though the flowers would be in disarray now.

“Someday I might take care of the flowers,” she mused aloud. Major gave a whine as if he found that difficult to believe. Lacy laughed. “So I’m not much for flowers, but I could change.”

Just then she caught sight a dim light coming from one of the front windows. Maybe Dave had made his way over here after checking with the Dykstras. She shook her head. No, there wasn’t time enough for that.

Perhaps Justin had come here to take refuge from the storm. That made more sense. As raindrops started splattering against the ground, Lacy mounted and urged the horse to pick up his speed, Major running alongside. She made it to the largest of the outbuildings just as the rain cut loose and fell in earnest. Thunder cracked nearly atop the flash of lightning as it hit a nearby tree. Lacy fought to control her frightened mount. She hurried to the barn, where she could properly shelter her horse.

Once the horse was unsaddled, Lacy looked around for feed and water. There was a small amount of hay in a feeding trough in one of the stalls at the far end of the barn. She gathered this and carried it back to her horse. “Here you go. It’s not much, but then, we hardly planned for this. I’ll see you get some water after the storm.” Lacy whistled for Major. “Come on, boy, let’s get to the house and see if we can find Justin.”

Major looked at her and settled down in the straw. Lacy couldn’t help but laugh. “Not willing to go out in the rain, eh? Well, have it your way.”

She could see it was a short run from the barn to the back porch, but the lightning was fierce and there was always the chance of getting struck. An image of Justin, cowering in terror inside the house, made up Lacy’s mind, however. She couldn’t just stay there and wait—not if he might be inside and afraid.

Without regard to her safety, Lacy hiked her split skirt and made a dash across the open ground. Blinded by the rain, now whipped into a frenzy by the wind, Lacy made her way as best she could, certain that the distance had somehow doubled from her estimation.

She smacked her hand against the back wall of the porch and made her way to the door. Lacy found it unlocked and hurried to get inside. The kitchen was dark, and the entire house was strangely quiet.

“Justin? Justin, are you here?”

Lacy made her way carefully, not entirely sure of the house’s layout. She’d only been to the Vanhoutens’ a couple of times and had never spent time in the kitchen. Reaching the hall, she saw the faint glow of light coming from the front of the house.

“Justin?”

There was nothing to indicate the boy’s presence, but Lacy knew someone had to be there. “Is anyone there?” she called again. Still nothing.

A shiver went up her spine as the rain and her nerves chilled her to the bone. What if someone was there to rob the place?

But what could they hope to take? There shouldn’t be anything of
value here.
Lacy edged down the hall, wishing that Major had come with her after all.

“I have a gun,” she announced, trying to sound braver than she felt. She’d lied about having a weapon. She’d left her rifle in the barn. For a moment Lacy thought about going back to retrieve it. With her next step, however, the floor creaked loudly, causing her to halt. “Did you hear me?” She backed up a step as if to make a dash for the barn.

Silence was her only response. Someone had to be in the house, she reasoned. Someone was responsible for lighting the lamp. Lacy bit her lower lip. What should she do? She touched the hall wall and frowned.

“Give yourself up and come into the hall so I can see you,” she called.

She squared her shoulders and crept closer to the front of the house. When she reached the end of the hall, Lacy noted that the front door was open and the wind was blowing rain into the foyer. The lamplight flickered and danced shadows on the wall. Swallowing her fears, Lacy stepped into the open and reached for the door. Closing it, she turned and looked into the front room, where Mrs. Vanhouten had once served tea to the Gallatin girls.