A Dream to Call My Own (19 page)
“Oh!” Lacy’s hand went to her mouth. She froze in place and wondered at the sight before her.
A man lay facedown on the floor near the parlor table, where a single lamp burned. If that weren’t shocking enough, the pool of blood around the man’s face was sufficient to leave Lacy feeling light-headed.
Dave climbed from his horse to better see the tracks in the dirt. The search was proving to be more than a little disappointing. The Dykstras had seen nothing of Justin but promised to keep an eye open for the boy. Dave had wanted to continue searching the area, but with the storm quickly absorbing the remaining light, he knew it was time to turn back.
“Well, maybe one of the others will have had better luck,” he muttered, realizing the tracks were too large to belong to Justin.
The wind picked up, and with it a decided scent of rain. Dave was barely back in the saddle when the skies opened up and it began to pour. He drew the edges of his coat together and buttoned the top, hoping to keep as dry as possible. Pulling his hat low, he encouraged the horse to hurry toward home.
Despite the storm moving in from the west, the winds seemed to pummel Dave from all directions. The horse was less than happy to be in the midst of the summer melee. The gelding snorted and danced to the side as lightning flashed overhead.
“Easy, boy. We’ll soon be home,” Dave encouraged the mount. But at the same time, he wondered if taking shelter might not be a better idea.
It was hard to imagine Justin out in the storm, but maybe that would serve the boy better than any other punishment. After all, if he had to face harsh elements on his own, maybe he’d think twice before running off again.
Lightning flashed and thunder cracked nearly on top of it. The horse reared up, forcing Dave to fight for his balance. Holding fast to the reins, Dave raised his head as best he could against the wind and rain. Ahead, he could make out four figures on horseback, blocking the road.
He squinted his eyes to see who the men were. Dave figured it might well be part of the search party and called out, “Seen anything of the boy?”
“We found what we were lookin’ for,” one of the men replied.
As Dave drew closer he realized he was in trouble. All of the men were wearing masks. Three of the men leveled rifles at him, while the fourth brought his horse alongside Dave’s and took hold of the reins.
“You’re comin’ with us.”
Lacy did the best she could for the young man. She’d been relieved to find that he was still breathing, but the wound on his head left her little doubt that he’d been shot. She went about the house gathering anything that looked even remotely useful. Grateful for plenty of firewood on the back porch, Lacy hurried to light a fire in the living room hearth.
“We could both use some warmth,” she surmised. The additional light was useful, as well. Lacy surveyed the situation.
She knew her sisters would be worried about her, but she couldn’t leave the young man to what would be certain death. He needed care, and he needed it now. She might already be too late. Then there was the storm to consider.
“They may worry, but it’s probably best I stay here,” she decided.
Lacy considered the man. Even though his build was on the small side, she knew she’d never have enough strength to lift him into a bed. The next best thing would be to make a pallet for him near the fire. She could roll him that far.
She stripped away the man’s bloody coat and unfastened the buttons of his shirt. Checking him over quickly, she found no wounds other than the head wound. Lacy realized the bullet had ripped a streak of hair from the boy’s blond head, leaving behind a nasty gash that threatened to take his life.
“Sure wish I knew who you were and what happened to you.” The thought crossed her mind that maybe the person or persons responsible might still be after the young man. Lacy glanced toward the door and frowned. What if they tracked him to this place? What if they came in by force and tried to kill him? She figured she’d need to retrieve the rifle as soon as possible.
She got up and tossed the man’s blood-caked coat over the back of a wooden chair. Whether or not folks were coming for this fellow, Lacy knew she had to stay focused or he would certainly die. If someone tried to storm the place, she’d just deal with it when it happened.
It seemed as if hours were passing by, but Lacy knew it was probably nothing more than minutes. She hurried to heat water on the stove and then found some old dish towels the Vanhoutens must have left behind. She tore the towels into strips to clean and dress the man’s wounds.
“Man, indeed,” she murmured as she began to work. He hardly seemed more than a boy. He was short and skinny without a hint of whiskers on his face. Lacy figured he couldn’t be more than sixteen.
“Who would want to shoot a boy?” she questioned as she began to dab the head wound gently. She cleaned away the worst of the dried blood and dirt in order to get a better look at the wound.
“What in the world happened to you?”
The young man stirred and opened his eyes momentarily. Lacy could see there was no understanding of his surroundings. He stared blankly at her for a moment, babbled something incomprehensible, and then he was gone again. The blue eyes closed, leaving Lacy feeling strangely alone.
Once she’d finished cleaning and binding the wound, Lacy decided to see about something to eat. She knew Dave had stayed at the house a few times and hoped that he might have laid in a supply of canned goods. Opening the cupboard, she found several cans of beans and a box of crackers, but nothing else.
“It’ll have to do,” she said, taking two of the cans in hand.
Hours later, Lacy sat warm and satisfied by the fire. She watched the young man sleep and hoped he was without pain. His bandages revealed some bleeding, but it seemed minimal. Of course, there had been plenty of blood on the floor, so Lacy wasn’t entirely sure how much he’d already lost. Once the storm passed and morning came, she could ride out for help. Maybe Dave would realize she hadn’t returned and come here looking for her.
Then I’ll have the help I need
.
Her last conscious thought was of Justin. She prayed that he would be found safe and unharmed. Yawning, she eased down onto her own pallet and closed her eyes.
Silly little boy,
she thought.
You’ve certainly led us all on a wild goose chase this
night.
Lacy awoke with a start and immediately found the reason for her strange feeling of discomfort. The young man’s eyes were open, and he was watching her quite intently. She tried not to appear as frazzled as she felt.
“Well, I see you made it through the night.” She sat up and stretched, wondering what time it was. “How do you feel?”
“Been better.”
“I can imagine. Someone took a shot at you. Any idea who it was?”
The young man looked away and closed his eyes. “You’re one of them Gallatin girls, aren’t you?”
Lacy found his question surprising. “I am. I’m Lacy Gallatin.”
He gave the slightest nod. “I figured you were one of ’em.”
Lacy smiled. “You figured right, but you have me at a disadvantage. Who are you?”
He shook his head and winced. “You don’t know me. Name’s Adam.”
“Well, Adam, can you tell me what happened to you?”
Lacy wanted to check his wound, but he seemed uncomfortable in her presence. She decided a little more conversation might put the young man at ease.
“I guess I crossed the wrong crowd,” he answered, his voice barely audible. He said nothing more, and Lacy decided to let it go for now.
“I’ll need to get you some help, but maybe first you’d like a little breakfast. We don’t have much, but there are some beans and a few crackers. I can fix some up for you, if you like.” He didn’t answer, so Lacy got to her feet and tucked her blouse into her waistband. “So you were right, I don’t know you. In fact, I don’t recall seeing you around at the store or anywhere else. Are your folks from the area?”
He opened his eyes and fixed her with a stare. “I don’t have any folks. Been on my own for over four years now.”
“Four years? But you hardly seem old enough for that.”
“I’m eighteen. Been seein’ to myself for most of my life. My folks weren’t exactly the kind to fuss over their kin. They got themselves killed and left me and my brothers behind.”
“And where are your brothers?”
“Don’t know. They went their own way a couple of years ago.”
Lacy was stunned at the thought that this boy’s brothers could just leave him to make his own way at the age of sixteen. Why, Cubby was only sixteen and certainly not old enough to care for himself.
“So have you been living in the area long?” She tried to sound lighthearted, but in truth, Lacy felt quite an offense building for the young man.
He continued to look at her, and Lacy thought it was almost like that of a trapped animal considering his captor.
“Long enough.”
“Look, Adam, I mean you no harm. You needn’t worry about what I’ll do or say. I’m here to help you.”
He seemed to consider this for a moment. “This is Deputy Shepard’s house, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but he usually stays in town at Gallatin House. Were you looking for the deputy?”
Adam drew a deep breath and blinked several times as if trying to focus. “Yeah . . . I . . . I thought he would be here.”
“I can certainly get him,” Lacy replied. “We need to get you a doctor, as well, but Deputy Shepard will be happy to pursue whoever did this to you.”
“I . . . don’t . . . want a doctor. Don’t deserve one, nohow.” The boy’s words were slightly slurred, and Lacy hurried to his side.
“Adam?” She called his name as his eyes closed.
“You just let me die, Miss Lacy,” he whispered. “It’s only fair.”
“That’s nonsense,” she said, feeling his reddened cheek. He was feverish. She should have noted that sooner. “You aren’t going to die if I have anything to say about it.”
He grabbed her hand with surprising strength and forced his eyes open. “Never meant for it to happen. Never wanted him to die.”
She shook her head. “What are you talking about?”
“You . . . your pa.” He licked his lips and closed his eyes. “I think I killed him.”
Dave had never had such a splitting headache in all of his life. Every movement caused him blinding pain, but lying still offered little relief. He moaned and tried to open his eyes, but they refused to obey.
“You hit him pretty hard,” someone said in a muffled voice.
Dave tried to figure out who was talking, but the black cloud that surrounded his conscious thoughts blocked out any hope of recognition.
“He was mouthy and deserved it” came the reply. “Look, when are they coming?”
“I can’t rightly say. They just said to bring him here and wait. Guess they’ll get here when they get here. I sent Jacobs back to let them know we have him. My guess is they’ll come as soon as they can get away unseen.”
“Probably still looking for that Lassiter brat. Wyman said it would make a good cover.”
Dave fought to stay awake and worked even harder to figure out what the men were talking about. He couldn’t remember anything that had happened to him, but he had a sense of urgency that extended to something more than his own circumstance.
“Well, if they ain’t here by noon, I’m gonna go fetch ’em myself.”
Dave heard a snorted laugh. “You just do that. You just sashay right on up to Rafe and Mulholland and tell them that they’re takin’ too long to tend to business. I’d pay good money to see that.”
“You ain’t got good money. You lost it all in that card game last night, same as me. That’s why we’re here in the first place.”
Dave’s thoughts blurred, and one voice melded into another. He couldn’t fight against the blackness anymore. There was a strange drum beating somewhere, and for the life of him, Dave couldn’t figure out what it meant. It was annoying, while at the same time, he somehow knew that it was important that the beat continue. But he knew nothing else.
A boy? A boy was responsible for killing her father?
Lacy looked at the young man and shook her head. She slid to the chair and continued to stare at him in dumbfounded silence. Of all the times she’d imagined finding her father’s killer, never—not even once—had she imagined it like this.
He wouldn’t have been more than a child when her father was killed two years ago. Why would he have even had an opportunity to participate in such madness?
This couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be possible that this boy-man was the one whose bullet had taken her father’s life. But why would he lie there—injured as he was, possibly facing death—and suggest that he was the one responsible if he wasn’t?
The sky grew light outside, and Lacy heard the unmistakable whining of Major. She went to the door and opened it to admit the dog. He ambled in, sniffing at the air as if to see whether or not breakfast was ready.
Lacy closed the door and leaned against it. She looked back to the pallet where the young man was stirring once again. Major went to the man and licked his face. Adam opened his eyes and struggled to move away.
“Don’t . . . let him . . . hurt me.”
Lacy pushed away from the door. “He won’t hurt you.” Her mind reeled with a hundred questions. Walking slowly to where Adam was still struggling to sit up, Lacy bent to touch his shoulders. “You should just lie still.”
“Can’t. I have to find the deputy.”
“You’re in no condition to ride. Besides, I didn’t see your horse out there anywhere.” Lacy felt Adam’s head. “Your fever seems to have lessened, but you’re still warm.”
He fell back against the pallet. “It hurts like nothin’ I’ve ever known.” He put a hand to his bandaged head. “Am I gonna die?”
Lacy squatted and leaned her chin against her knees. “I don’t think so. The bleeding has stopped, and like I said, your fever seems better.” She paused for a moment, then straightened. “Look, we need to talk. I need to know more about what you said earlier.”
He turned to look at her. “About your pa?”
“Yes. Why did you say you thought you’d killed him?”
Adam’s expression filled with pain. “I was there,” he said softly. “It was my first time to a saloon. We were celebrating my sixteenth birthday.” He moved his head and moaned against the pain.
“Maybe we should just talk about this later,” Lacy said, starting to stand.
“No!” Adam cried out. He closed his eyes and seemed to pant for breath. “Don’t you see? You being here . . . it’s like . . . like God wants me to confess.”
Lacy stiffened. She had always seen her father’s killer as some kind of unrepentant monster. A young man in the prime of his life was not at all what she had expected. Much less that he should be seriously repentant.
“Why did you wait so long to say something?” she asked, taking a seat beside Adam. Major did likewise and placed his head on Lacy’s lap.
“The boys threatened me. They told me they’d skin me alive if I so much as admitted to being there that night. I was working at the Vanderkamp ranch, and they didn’t cotton to drinking. The boys said we’d all lose our jobs if I said we’d been at the saloon. I was still determined to do the right thing, but they just took turns making sure I stayed put.”
“Adam, why do you think your bullet was the one that killed my father? There was a lot of shooting going on that night.”
“I know, but I was the youngest and most inexperienced. I’d never had beer before then, and that night, I had a lot.” He finally opened his eyes. “I remember it all so clearly.”
“How could you if you were that drunk?”
He started to shrug, but the action clearly pained him and he stopped. “I don’t know, but I see it every time I close my eyes. I have nightmares about it. Your pa looked me square in the eye as he fell. It was like he knew I’d killed him.”
Lacy felt her chest tighten at the memory of that night. She remembered her father lying in the dirt, blood staining his shirt, his eyes going glassy. Gwen had wanted to get him to the house, but their father had known he was dying.
“I’m done for,”
he’d said with such finality that it sent a shiver up Lacy’s spine.
“I never meant for it to happen—you have to believe me,” Adam said.
Lacy wanted to declare that believing him wouldn’t change anything, but seeing the overwhelming sorrow in his expression, she couldn’t.
“I wanted to turn myself in the very next day, but the boys wouldn’t let me. They said I was being stupid, that I hadn’t killed anyone—at least I couldn’t be sure. They said so long as we all stuck together, we’d be fine.
“None of them seemed to have any trouble forgetting what happened, but I couldn’t. I don’t think I’ll have any peace at all until I pay for what happened.”
The image of the skinny boy hanging from a gallows sickened Lacy. She shook her head. “Adam, you . . . you need to rest.” Getting to her feet, Lacy longed only to distance herself from the entire matter. “I’ll see about getting you something to eat.”
“No. Wait.”
The longing in his voice caused Lacy to turn. She felt as if her feet were nailed to the floor as she waited to see what Adam would say next.
“Please forgive me.” Tears ran down his cheeks. “I know I can’t do anything to bring him back—I know that nothing I do can make it better, but I need your forgiveness. I can face my punishment if I know you and your sisters will forgive me. I can even face death.”
Lacy said nothing. Forgive him? She’d never expected this.
“Please, Miss Lacy. I know I don’t deserve it, but please . . . can’t you just think about it?”
She felt her brows knit together as she looked at the boy in confusion. He wanted her forgiveness? He was just a young man, barely a man at all, who had made a horrible mistake and now found it impossible to live with the deed. How could she not forgive him?
Her stomach clenched, and Lacy knew without a doubt she was going to be sick. “I . . . I’m sorry.” She ran for the front door.
“Justin just seems to have disappeared,” Nick said, pacing the floor at Gallatin House.
“So have Lacy and Dave,” Gwen said, worry edging her tone. “They didn’t come back last night.” She wiped her hands on a flour-sack towel and looked at Beth. “Do you suppose we should go looking for them, too?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they changed their minds and decided to look all night,” Beth said, giving her sleeping son’s head a gentle touch. She cradled him close but found little comfort in the action.
“They didn’t show up at all?” Nick asked. “It was Dave’s suggestion that we all be back here for the night. I figured they came in after Hank and I got back.”
Gwen shook her head. “No.”
“I’m sure they’re fine,” Beth said. “We really have to keep our attention on Justin.” She grimaced at the thought of all the bad things that could have happened to the boy.
If only I
hadn’t yelled at him. If I hadn’t been so angry, he might still be here
. She felt tears come again to her eyes.
Nick nodded in agreement. “I guess Hank and I will go out and search for Justin. He’s out getting the horses ready. If you hear anything from the others, tell them I’ve gone north. Hank said he’d ride out to the Shepards’ place and see if Justin showed up there.” Nick took up his hat.
“I’m going to look, as well. I can at least walk around the immediate area,” Beth said, getting to her feet. “Gwen, would you watch Max for me?”
“Of course.” Gwen took the baby.
Nick secured his hat and turned back to Beth. “It would be better—”
She held up her hand. “Don’t. It’s my fault he ran off. I have to at least try to make this right. I feel so useless sitting here while everyone else is searching. He’s my son, too.” Her voice cracked. “I couldn’t bear it if something happened to him.”
Nick came and took her in his arms. “It’s not your fault, Beth. Justin has been defying us since he found out we were going to give him a brother or sister. I didn’t take it all that seriously until now. So if anyone is to blame . . . well, it’s probably best left at my door.”
Beth took strength in his caress and embrace. She was grateful that Nick didn’t blame her, but it did little to assuage her guilt.
“You ready?” Hank asked from the doorway.
Nick pulled back. “I’m coming.” He looked back to Beth. “Don’t go too far. There are a lot of unsavory characters in the area. I don’t want harm to come to you.”
She bit her lip to keep from saying something about the danger Justin must surely be facing, and instead nodded. She waited until Nick had gone before turning to her sister. “I’ll try to be back for his next feeding.”
“Do be careful,” Gwen said.
Beth was grateful that Gwen wasn’t attempting to stop her. “I will.” She started to leave but halted when Gwen called out.
“You know, Nick is right. This isn’t your fault. Justin was wrong to play with fire, and he was wrong to run away. He knew what he did was dangerous—it could have resulted in you getting seriously injured or even dying. He ran off because he feels guilty for what he did.”
Beth met Gwen’s sympathetic expression. “Seems we’ve all dealt with our guilt over the years. It certainly has a way of making a person do foolish things.”
Gwen smiled. “Hopefully we can learn from our mistakes.”
Nodding, Beth headed for the back door. “And maybe practice more compassion for the mistakes of others.”
Cubby spied Hank standing at the back of Gallatin House. He looked disheveled and tired. A wide-mouthed yawn seemed only to confirm his assessment.
“You look spent, Hank. You get any sleep last night?”
“A little. We’re heading out again,” Hank told him. “We still haven’t found the boy. You’re welcome to join us.”
“He’s still missing? That’s not good, is it?”
“No, it’s sure not. He’s too young to be out there by himself. I’m just hoping maybe he found his way to someone’s house and took shelter for the night.”
“I asked all around the river. No one had seen him. I even talked with the wagon train folks, but they hadn’t seen him, either.”
Nick bounded down the back porch stairs. “We’re on our own this morning,” he commented as he joined Hank and Cubby. “I guess Dave and Lacy didn’t make it back last night.”
Hank frowned. “Not at all?”
“No one’s seen them.”
“It’s not like Dave to break with his own rule, though I could see Lacy ignoring it.” He grinned and shook his head. “I’d even expect it, but not from Dave.”
Cubby instantly had an image of Lacy in Dave’s arms.
“They’re probably just spoonin’ somewhere.”
Hank looked at him oddly. “Neither one would put Justin’s safety aside to do any such thing. They probably teamed up to keep searching through the night. Could be they found his trail. They’ll come back as soon as they’ve exhausted all possibilities.”
“You still riding out to Shepards’?” Nick asked.
Hank positioned his hat. “Yeah. I’ll head out there and ask if they’ve seen him. If not, I’ll check the other area farms and ranches on the way back.”
“All right. Let’s meet back here by noon,” Nick said. “Cubby, if you get a chance to look around the area again, I’d appreciate it.”
“Will do, Nick. I’ll have some time while Pa is sleeping. It won’t be much, but I’ll do what I can.”
“Thanks. I appreciate the help.”
Cubby watched the two men head off to the corral for their mounts. He stalked back to the saloon and the freshly cleaned spittoons he’d left drying in the early morning sun. Collecting his work, Cubby headed inside to return the spittoons to the saloon. He was about to head out to look for Justin when he heard voices coming from his father’s office.
In all his life, Cubby had never known his father to conduct business at this hour. Easing to the door, Cubby clearly heard Jefferson Mulholland’s voice.
“Killing him is the only way. Shepard knows too much.”
“He’s right, Rafe.” Cubby recognized Wyman’s deep voice.
“And how are we going to avoid catching the blame?”
“Why would anyone suspect us?” Wyman asked. “There are highwaymen still at large. We’ll just make it look like he was caught unawares by them.”
Cubby felt the hairs on his neck prickle. They were going to murder Deputy Shepard, just like they’d murdered George Gallatin.
Lacy had been on her knees in prayer since Adam’s request for forgiveness. To her surprise, she not only wanted to forgive the young man, but she found that she needed to in order to be free of the past.
“Oh, Father, I’m so tired.” She buried her face in her hands and prayed silently.
If Adam truly killed Pa, then I know it wasn’t
on purpose—it was an accident. I know he feels horrible about what
happened—he was just a child.
Her emotions churned and whirled like a summer storm about to strike. Tears dampened her cheeks as she lifted her face. “That’s right, isn’t it, Pa? I won’t be failing you if I forgive him, will I?” She could almost hear her father’s laughter. He would think her silly to hold anyone a grudge—even the person responsible for his death. George Gallatin had never withheld forgiveness, and he’d expected no less of his girls.
“There are too many sorrowful things in life,”
she remembered him saying.
“You girls must never add to them. Never be the cause
of anyone’s pain, and if you have the ability to ease their suffering,
then do so quickly.”
“I will, Pa,” Lacy whispered. Suddenly she knew what she had to do.
Getting to her feet, Lacy wiped her face with the back of her hand. She drew a deep breath and headed back to the front room, where she’d left Adam.
He looked up at her from where he sat slouched against the wall. Lacy could see the unasked question in his eyes. “I forgive you, Adam,” she said in a barely audible voice. For a moment, she wondered if he’d heard her, but when she spied the tears rolling down his cheeks, Lacy had no further doubt.
She sat on a nearby chair and folded her hands together. “I’ve been looking since that night to find my father’s killer. I was sure that whoever had done such a heartless thing must have no conscience. I was convinced they couldn’t possibly have suffered or even given it a second thought, otherwise they surely would have come forward to confess. Now I know I was wrong.”