A Dream to Call My Own (21 page)
Nick nodded. “He was at that fishing hole to the north—the one where the river pools off to the side. He thought he’d killed Beth and broke into tears.”
Hank dismounted and slapped the dust from his shirt. “Is he all right?”
“Hungry and scared, but also contrite and ready to start anew.” Nick remembered times when he’d grieved his parents something fierce. “Guess I’m getting some payback for those less-than-thoughtful moments that went unpunished when I was a boy. My mother always said nine times out of ten, I could charm my way out of a whoopin’.”
“And what about that tenth time?” Hank asked with a grin.
“Made up for the other nine.”
They both laughed at this, then walked their mounts to the corral. “I hope I won’t have the same thing in store with Julianne. Surely a little girl will be less trouble.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “I’ll bet they said the same thing about Lacy.”
Hank feigned a shudder and blew out a long breath. “I’m gonna forget you said that.”
Nick grinned. “Forgetting won’t change the fact that your little daughter is related to that whirlwind.”
Cubby helped Adam up the steps to Gallatin House. Twice the young man caught his boot and started to fall forward. “We’re almost there. Miss Gwen will know how to help you best. She’s done a lot of nursing around these parts.”
The wounded man panted for breath. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
Adam barely made the last few feet across the porch, and Cubby struggled to support the man while knocking on the door. “Miss Gwen won’t think it’s a bother. She likes helping.” He knocked again, this time a little harder.
When Gwen finally appeared, Cubby shifted Adam and smiled. “Miss Lacy asked me to bring this fella here for some doctoring.”
Gwen nodded and motioned Cubby to bring Adam upstairs. Cubby strained against the man’s weight but pressed on. Once he’d reached the first spare bedroom, Gwen already had the covers pulled down ready for her patient.
“Bring him over here.” She helped Adam to sit on the bed, then bent to pull off his boots. “Where is Lacy? We’ve been worried about her and Dave.”
Cubby took Adam’s boots from Gwen, and then they helped him to lie back on the bed. Adam moaned and put a hand to his head. Cubby straightened, anxious to leave.
“Lacy is just fine, but she’s gone to look for Dave.” Cubby guarded his words so that he wouldn’t reveal too much. He didn’t want to unduly worry Gwen. “This here is Adam. He’s got a bullet wound on his head. Lacy did what she could for him.”
“Goodness,” Gwen said, finally getting a good look at Adam. “What happened?”
“He can tell you all about it, but I need to go. Say, did you find Justin?”
“Just a little bit ago,” Gwen replied. “He’s safe and sound. Thanks for looking for him.”
“Sure, Miss Gwen.” Cubby hurried to the door. “Is Hank around?”
“He’s at the store right now.”
Cubby nodded. “Then I’ll go there. I need to talk to him.” He darted out and ran down the porch stairs. He didn’t want to give Gwen a chance to ask him more questions or assign him other duties. He was still uncertain as to what he should do. A part of him wanted to get back on his horse and go after Lacy, while a more sensible part told him to get help.
“Hank?” he called out as he entered Bishop’s Emporium. “Hank!”
“You don’t have to shout. I’m right here,” Hank declared, rising from behind the counter. “What’s the problem?”
“It’s . . . well . . .” Cubby looked at the man for a moment. How much should he reveal? If he told Hank everything, his father would be sent to jail or even hanged. Of course, Dave and Lacy would know the truth and send Rafe there anyway. Cubby shifted nervously. “I need to tell you something.”
Hank seemed to understand that the matter was grave. “Do you want to sit down?”
Cubby shook his head. “There isn’t time.” He met Hank’s calm expression. “I need your help. Actually, Lacy and Dave do.”
“What’s happened? Do you know where they are?” Hank came from around the counter. “We’ve been worried about them. They never returned.”
“There’s been some trouble.” Cubby began to pace. “Look, I’ve known something was going on for a long time, but I didn’t know the full extent. I’ve overheard so many things that I couldn’t be sure what was truth and what wasn’t.”
“Son, calm down and tell me what this is all about.”
Cubby took off his hat and twisted the rim nervously. “It’s just that my pa is involved, and I don’t want to get him in trouble. I keep thinkin’, though, about what you said. Good men face up to the truth even when it involves folks they love.” He looked at Hank in desperation. “I know he’s a bad man—he’s done bad things—but he’s still my pa.”
“Of course he is, but what does this have to do with him?”
Cubby slammed his fist against the door. The impact rattled the window something fierce. “It’s that Wyman and Mr. Mulholland. They’ve been bad for Pa. They’ve had all sorts of underhanded stuff going on.”
“Like what?” Hank asked, crossing his arms.
“There isn’t time to explain it all. But Lacy and Dave are in trouble. My pa was talking this morning with Wyman and Mr. Mulholland. I stopped to listen because it wasn’t like him to be up so early. They said they had taken Dave and were planning to kill him. They want to get him out of the way just like they did Lacy’s pa.”
Hank shocked Cubby by crossing to him in two long strides. He took hold of the boy’s shoulders, and Cubby found it impossible to look away. “Your father killed George Gallatin?”
“No . . . but . . . well . . . Wyman did.” Cubby hung his head. “Pa ordered it.”
“But why? And why do they want to kill Dave?”
“He knows too much about them. Apparently, they killed Big John for talking to Dave and telling him about the operation. At least Wyman said his men had gone to Bozeman to do the job. Pa and Wyman are behind the highwaymen and a lot of the other trouble going on around here. They did it to drive the good folks away so that they could take over the town. It’s why they killed Mr. Gallatin. They wanted to buy the hotel, and now they have.”
Hank shook his head. “The deal’s not final. We have ownership until September. But that’s hardly important now. Tell me where they have Dave.”
“I don’t know for sure. I heard them talking about having surprised him on the road to the Dykstra ranch and that they took him to a hideout nearby. I’m figurin’ it has to be somewhere off the same road Dave was on. Lacy’s gone to track them.”
“Lacy? She’s out there alone?” Hank let go of Cubby.
“She made me bring in an injured man. When I rode out to find her this morning, I caught up with them as she was making her way back from the Vanhouten place. Lacy didn’t say a whole lot, but she had me bring the man and Major back to the house. The man’s name is Adam Barnes. He told me on the way that he got himself shot and that Lacy helped him. He knew, too, that Dave was in trouble. Apparently Lacy decided to take shelter at the Vanhouten house when the storm hit and found Adam there bleeding and unconscious. That’s about all I know.” Cubby frowned as he remembered leaving Lacy to ride off in the opposite direction. “I wanted to stay with her, but she insisted I bring the man here.”
“That sounds like Lacy.” Hank muttered something else that Cubby couldn’t understand.
“She has a rifle and told me if they hurt Dave, she’d shoot every one of the men responsible.”
Hank looked at Cubby as if considering the possibility of something so outlandish. “I’m sure she would. You wait here while I go get Nick. Did you say anything to Gwen when you dropped the man off?”
Cubby shook his head. “I didn’t say any more than I had to. I didn’t want to have to tell her that Lacy was in danger.”
“That’s probably for the best, but I don’t see how we can keep it from her now. If Nick and I go out with you, she’ll know something isn’t right.” Hank sighed. “I’ll be back as quick as I can. You wait here, and we’ll head to the Dykstra road together.”
Cubby plopped down on a barrel marked
Molasses
as the truth washed over him. Pa was evil. He had to be. How else could he have done all those bad things—especially arranging murder?
He thought back on how much he’d liked George Gallatin. The man had been kind. He always had a story to tell; he always treated other folks like they were important. Mr. Gallatin was probably one of the best men Cubby had ever known.
“And Pa had him killed, all so he could buy Gallatin House.” The news had been hard to hear but even harder to understand. Why would his father stoop to such dealings? It had to be the bad influence of Wyman Jenkins.
Cubby felt a burning anger toward Wyman. Mulholland, too. Neither one of the men had been of a good cut, and his father had been easily taken in by both of them. But even as Cubby tried to convince himself of this, he knew it wasn’t true. His father wasn’t any better. For as long as Cubby could remember, Rafe Reynolds had swindled and cheated people in whatever manner best served his needs. That’s why it bothered Cubby so much to think he might be anything like him.
The minutes ticked by, and Cubby grew anxious. He got up from the barrel and glanced outside to see if there was any sign of Hank and Nick. He only saw a handful of the miners and other rowdies milling around. A couple of them looked to be headed to the store. Cubby didn’t want to have to deal with them and quickly slid the lock in place and pulled down the shade.
He crossed the room to Hank’s office and searched out a piece of paper and a pencil. Quickly, he jotted a short note to Hank to let him know that he couldn’t wait any longer to go in search of Lacy. He would leave them a marker on the road to Dykstras’ if he found the place where Lacy and the others had gone. Otherwise, he would see them when Hank and Nick caught up to him.
Positioning the note in plain view on the front counter, Cubby ignored the knocking of the miners and slipped out the back of the store. He came around the building to retrieve his horse and shook his head as the men gave him a glance. “There’s no one in there. Guess Hank closed down for a spell.”
The men muttered their disapproval as Cubby mounted his horse and headed back down the road. As he passed his father’s saloon, Cubby couldn’t help but feel a sense of sorrow. Everything was about to change—that much he knew.
“But there should be something we can do to help,” Beth protested. “That’s our sister out there.”
“Look, we’re wasting time arguing with you,” Nick said as he strapped on his gun belt. “Hank is right. You two need to stay put. Send someone for the sheriff if you know they can be trusted. Otherwise, remain here.”
Gwen came alongside Beth and took hold of her arm. “You know they’re right. We can’t help out there, but we can pray.”
“It seems so little,” Beth said, shaking her head. “I know it’s not, but it seems like nothing at all.”
“I know,” Gwen admitted. “But we have to think of the children. It’s dangerous enough for the men. But if we found someone to watch the babies and something happened to us, they might well become orphans.”
That thought silenced Beth. Justin came up and took hold of her other arm. He seemed to want to reassure her at the same time he needed assurance. Beth pulled him close. “We’ll stay.”
Nick nodded. He gave her a quick kiss, then turned to Hank. “Let’s go.”
Hank drew Gwen into his arms. Beth thought she saw tears in her sister’s eyes and looked away. What a horrible thing to happen, and just when things had seemed so much better! Justin had come home unhurt, and Beth had felt there was finally hope that they could be happy as a family.
“Don’t worry, Mama. Remember God doesn’t want to lose any of His sheep. He’s already going after Dave and Aunt Lacy.”
Beth looked down at her son. “You’re right, Justin. He has already taken care of them. We have to remember that.” She met Nick’s eyes and saw his nod of agreement. It wasn’t much, but it gave her enough courage to stand strong.
Lacy noted the multiple sets of tracks and jumped down from her horse. The imprints were fresh and veered off onto a rocky slope and disappeared. Lacy studied the terrain and traced every inch of the area. Catching sight of something in the brush, Lacy made her way on foot to check deeper in the vegetation. A few feet in, broken branches littered a beaten-down path in the grass. This had to be it.
She strained to listen for any sound of men or horses. Nothing. Even the birds had fallen silent at her arrival. A chill slid down her spine. This was no game of hide-and-seek. The men she sought were killers. They intended to hurt the man she loved.
The man I love.
She mulled the thought over in her mind.
I
love him
. The revelation seemed natural and easy.
How silly I’ve
been to even wonder it.
Sure, Dave Shepard had been like a thorn in her side, but that was only because she longed for his approval and companionship. Every time he scolded her or took her to task, she was angry—but more at herself than Dave.
“And you wait until now to figure all this out,” she muttered.
She thought of Dave being hurt and felt sick. How could she have doubted her love for him? Why had she fought her feelings for so long?
Dave had once commented that she was making this hard on herself. “He certainly had that right,” Lacy said, shaking her head again.
She went back for her horse but didn’t bother to remount. Instead, she led the animal through the brush and along the small path. There in the distance, hidden quite well by the woods, she saw a small cabin. She snuck forward a bit more and realized there were a couple of even smaller buildings near it—perhaps outhouses—and several horses grazing nearby. Hopefully she would be able to sneak up on the hideaway without being heard or seen, but in case she couldn’t, she knew it was best to be prepared. Pausing only long enough to pull her rifle from its scabbard, Lacy squared her shoulders and pressed on.
Rafe sat at his desk and stared blankly at the wall. His life just seemed to go from bad to worse. All he’d wanted was to expand his saloon and take over the hotel. He’d never figured on the gold rush deception or Mulholland’s wagon train people. Now Mulholland and Wyman were determined to kill Dave Shepard, and Rafe was tied into it like a spring calf ready for branding.
He’d never bargained for all of this. Mulholland had a way of manipulating Rafe and the people around him. Men who had once called Rafe
Boss
now looked to Mulholland for instruction. Oh, they didn’t come right out and say as much, but Rafe saw the looks they exchanged. Even Wyman, who had hated Mulholland at first, seemed to have a newfound respect for him.
“They’re both bloodthirsty,” Rafe muttered. “That’s what makes them good companions.”
“Here’s your supper, Rafe,” Marie said from the door. She brought in a bowl and placed it in front of him.
He stared at the stew for a moment, then shook his head. “Take it away. I ain’t hungry.”
“What’s wrong with you? You’ve been in a bad way all day. You sick?”
He looked at the woman as if seeing her for the first time. Marie wasn’t so very old, but she looked at least twenty years his senior. Life had been hard on her.
“I ain’t sick,” he muttered. “Just take this and get out. Leave me be.”