Colorado Heart (9781101612026) (7 page)

“Max,” Manuel responded. He lifted a finger and Max returned to his side.

“Well trained too,” Jake said. If he could get Manuel to talk, maybe he'd reveal some things about Cassie. Obviously it wasn't going to be easy. “I just got a pup a few weeks ago. Right now she's more interested in eating my house than learning anything.”

That got a smile from the man. “Like everything else, it takes time.” He spoke English well, in a soft-spoken way, with just a slight accent. The man was educated. So what was he doing so far away from home with a herd, no, dang it, flock of sheep?

“Something to remember with animals and people,” Manuel added. Jake nodded in agreement, wondering if the older man was offering advice about Cassie.

The door opened and Cassie came out and Manuel and the dog went in. The revolver was no longer in her coat pocket and she left her rifle on the porch as they silently stepped off the porch and walked around the house.

“Looks like you've got some varmints sharing your quarters,” Jake said as he saw a bushy tail disappear between the stones that served as the foundation of the house.

“Yes, it's a family of coons,” she said. “We left them there to scare off the snakes.”

“Practical,” Jake said. “They probably moved in when the house sat empty for so long. You're lucky you didn't find them inside, although I locked it up real well, or so I thought.” A sudden realization came to him. “Just exactly how did you get in? I still have the key at my place.”

“I broke out a window. It was easy to repair, as there was some glass in the shed.”

“Why didn't you just come get the key? I'm pretty sure I mentioned in the letter that I would hold it.” He wished he could see her eyes, but as they were walking side by side and she was so much shorter, he couldn't. “Was it because you didn't want anyone to know you were here?”

She stumbled over a rock and Jake quickly grabbed her arm to keep her upright. It took Cassie a moment to regain her balance and when she had, she shook off Jake's hand like he was a leper and kept on walking.

“Does that mean I was right about you not wanting anyone to know you were here?” Dang it, he should have ignored it but there was something about her that made him want to pick and prod like he was poking at a hornets' nest with a stick. Poke. Poke.

He knew he'd probably get stung, or thrown on his back in the snow, but still he did it.

“What difference does it make?” she snapped.

“It doesn't, if you've got nothing to hide. But it seems to me like you knew people would be unhappy about the sheep so you were trying to keep them secret for as long as possible.”

“It's not news to me that people would be unhappy about the sheep. It's one of the reasons why we came here in the first place.”

“Because the people in—where is it you came from?— were unhappy about the sheep?”

“Texas. We came from Texas.” Talk about a vague answer. Jake shook his head.

“Texas is a big place. You want to narrow it down some?”

“West Texas.”

“That narrows it down some.” Jake couldn't help but laugh. Getting answers out of Cassie Parker was next to impossible.

“What difference does it make?” she asked again. “We're here now. Where were you before you came to Colorado?”

“Many different places,” Jake admitted. “But originally Boston.”

“Boston?” She almost stumbled again and she turned to look at him when she'd regained her footing. “Really?”

“I have nothing to hide,” Jake said. There he went again. Poke. Poke. “Why not Boston?” They'd come to the row of pines that sat along the back of the house. Snow still lay beneath them, as the ground beneath was sheltered from the sun. Jake walked to one that had lost its lowest branches. The bark was scraped from elk and deer rubbing their horns against it, and the ground beneath littered with pinecones and sticks. There was a rock beneath the snow that marked the head of the grave.

“It just doesn't seem to suit you,” she admitted.

“As West Texas doesn't seem to suit you,” Jake replied. He nudged a pile of snow beneath the tree with his boot. “This is the place.”

“Oh,” she said. Cassie stared at the ground as if she could see what lay beneath it, and then she knelt in the cold snow. She picked off the leaves and pinecones, and with her bare hand smoothed over some rabbit tracks that crossed over it.

She looked vulnerable kneeling there, with the pale skin of her neck exposed as she bent her head and said a silent prayer. She sighed as if she held the weight of the world on her narrow shoulders. Maybe she did. Jake didn't know enough about her to know what burdens she bore, but it seemed like a lot.

A lot of things that she hid from the world.

“Tell me about it,” she said. “Tell me how he died.”

Jake closed his eyes against the gruesome scene that he'd found. There was no need for her to know her grandfather had sat there for a few days. “Near as I can tell, his heart just gave out. He just sat down in his rocking chair, closed his eyes and died. It seemed like it was peaceful.”

“The chair by the fireplace?”

“Yes.” Jake toed a pinecone off to the side. “It was springtime and the ground was soft so I brought him out here.”

“You buried him?” She turned and looked up at him. Her eyes seemed bluer in the dim light beneath the trees. “By yourself?”

“I did.” He dragged his boot around the snow, curving it as if to make the edge of the grave. “I didn't see any need to get anyone else.”

“Did you know him well?”

Jake shrugged. “As well as anyone around here I guess. He wasn't . . .” Jake scratched his chin as he searched for the right words. He didn't want to say anything bad about Sam Parker. The man had been in this valley before he arrived and as far as Jake knew he always kept to himself. “He didn't seem to want to get close to anyone.”

Cassie nodded her head in agreement. “It makes sense. My mother said it was like the light went out in him when my father was killed and then my grandmother died soon after. It couldn't have been easy for him. He seemed to shut out the world after that.”

“Were you close before?” he asked.

Cassie looked off into the distance, out of her valley and past the mountains, to the east, as if she could see all the way to Illinois. “We were,” she said. “Before the war came.”

“Illinois seems a bit far from the battlefields. What made your father go?”

“He was a doctor. He had friends he went to school with who enlisted. He felt like that was where he was most needed.”

“Your grandfather kept a letter he wrote in his Bible. That's how I knew where to send it.”

“Bible? There's no Bible in the house.”

“It's at my house. I didn't want to leave it. I wanted to make sure it was safe in case someone showed up. I didn't even think about it until now.”

Cassie turned her pale blue eyes upon him. “It's a good thing you did,” she said. “Keeping the money for me and writing the letter. Most people wouldn't have bothered.”

Jake was surprised to feel a blush creep up his cheeks. “You must have run across some bad people,” he said. “I find most are honest, or at least I like to think so.” Jake always wanted to see the best in people. He needed to see the best in people, but he knew better than to expect them to behave that way. There were plenty of selfish ones, and more than a fair share of bad ones out there. “In my experience what goes around comes around so I like to keep the odds in my favor by trying to do the right thing.”

“If only more people were that way.” She grew silent and looked away. Jake realized something had happened to her, something bad enough that she wanted to keep the entire world at bay. Something that had her carrying a gun and an attitude that said shoot first and ask questions later. She started to rise and Jake held out his hand to help her. She wouldn't take it. Instead she wrapped her arms around her body as if she were cold.

Whatever had happened to her, it was bad, and the thought of it only made Jake more curious. The desire to poke was still there, but maybe he'd be a bit gentler when he did it.

“Thank you for everything,” Cassie said, and just like that, Jake knew he was dismissed. He didn't mind. He had work to do.

“I'll see you in the morning,” he said and left her there, standing by the grave. As he mounted Skip, he felt as if there was something else he could or should do, but for the life of him, Jake couldn't figure out what it was.

What he did know was that things were going to get ugly. If only he could find a way to stop it, but he might as well tell the wind to quit blowing. And it was a cold wind that pushed at his back as he rode home.

NINE

C
assie sat straight up in the bed. It took her a moment to realize where she was. The dream had taken her so strongly that she was disoriented. As her heart slowed from its panicked gallop, she heard the slow and steady breathing of her mother and reality surrounded her once more.

Dawn would be here soon. Cassie sensed it more than saw it. She was afraid to close her eyes again, afraid that she'd be caught once more in the dream, so she eased out of bed.

The advent of spring had helped with the coldness that always surrounded her. She didn't feel the need to wear as many clothes or wrap up in her heavy coat now, but she did put on her robe as she walked to the window and pulled aside the heavy curtain.

As she expected, it was still full dark, but dawn was there, close at hand. She'd thought the dreams were behind her. Like Texas, she'd put them in her past, locked up tight in a box and buried deep in a hole. For some reason they'd surfaced again and it was too much of a coincidence that they'd begun again right after meeting Jake Reece on the trail.

But why? Cassie had learned to trust her instincts. The one time she didn't was the one time things went horribly wrong. Her instincts were telling her now that Jake Reece would not hurt her. So why was she so terrified of him?

There were no answers to be had in the empty darkness around the cabin. Cassie put on her clothes, picked up a lantern and went to the barn. She heard the skitter of tiny feet as she opened the door and stepped inside. “We need a cat,” she said as she held the lantern before her to make sure all the creatures that came out at night knew she was there.

Puck and the mules stirred in their stalls. Libby, who'd been put in a stall to make sure she didn't take off again, gave out a squeaky bray at the interruption to her dreams.

“I'm beginning to think you are more trouble that you are worth,” Cassie said as she walked by her stall. Libby responded by turning away from Cassie so that she was talking to her backside. “I'm not impressed,” Cassie responded.

There were a pair of goats across from Libby and a milk cow between, all of whom made the trip with them north from Texas. Cassie was pleased that they'd all survived, down to every chicken, both rooster and hen. She'd formed a partnership with Manuel when she realized she had a place for them to go. Manuel and Rosa needed a refuge and Cassie needed a reason to go on living.

She stopped when she arrived at Puck's stall. The horse came to her, as he always did, since the first time she'd met him. They'd both needed healing. Cassie found the quiet presence of the horse a soothing balm for her fractured soul and she knew in her heart that Puck felt the same. Cassie went into his stall and wrapped her arms around the horse's neck. Puck shifted his weight so that they leaned into each other. He was small enough—only fifteen hands or so—that she could easily mount him, and there'd been many a times when she'd done just that, slowly building his trust and conquering his fear, after the abuse he'd suffered.

She named him Puck after the character in Shakespeare's play,
A Midsummer Night's Dream
. She thought the name fit the appaloosa's odd markings and his whimsical nature. Manuel deemed the horse hers, as he said she was the one responsible for healing him. She hoped, here in Angel's End, they would all be able to heal. Manuel and Rosa had managed well enough before Cassie and her mother moved in with them, but after, when she was the sworn enemy of the richest and most powerful man around, life had become impossible for all of them. Jake Reece's letter, when it finally found her, seemed like an answer to her prayers. Still, Cassie couldn't help but wonder, as she picked up the currycomb and went to work on Puck, if there would be more trouble here. One good thing about Angel's End: she wouldn't have to worry about running into the man who raped her here.

*   *   *

Cassie met Jake at the bottom of her valley, where it joined the main road. She was dressed in the clothes she usually wore, but for some reason, when his storm cloud eyes glanced at her, she felt inadequate. Especially when she noticed that he was dressed nicely, in a brown leather jacket, a plaid shirt and a clean and pressed pair of jeans. His boots shone from a brushing and his jaw was clean shaven.

She caught herself twisting the flyaway ends of her hair as if she could make it grow faster. At one time it had been down to her waist and someday it would be again, if she left it alone. Right now it was just at an awkward length, too short to pull back but long enough to be in her way. In the wintertime she wore a knitted hat to keep it tame. But now, with the warm weather, she just wore the wide-brimmed Stetson that kept the sun off her pale skin, as she had a tendency to burn.

“Pretty day,” Jake said. He was riding a different horse this morning, a beautiful palomino stud that was full of himself, if his arched neck and flowing tail were any indication. Cassie eyed him dubiously as she fell in beside Jake on Puck.

“Don't mind Bright,” Jake said as he rubbed the golden neck with evident affection. “This is his first trip out this spring so he's feeling his oats.”

“Bright,” Cassie said as she admired his lines. “That's a good name for him.”

“I thought it suited him,” Jake said. “That's an interesting mount you've got. I haven't seen many appaloosas up this way.”

“This is Puck,” Cassie began.

“As in Robin Goodfellow?”

His quick answer surprised her. “You read Shakespeare?” Cassie asked.

“The winters are long and lonely,” Jake answered. “And I have plenty of books.”

“Yes they are,” she replied without thinking. “Unfortunately I only have the one book of Shakespeare's plays.”

“When you come by to pick up the Bible, you can help yourself to any book on my shelves,” he offered.

She was completely taken aback. “Thank you,” she said finally. She hadn't considered going to his place and picking up the Bible. She just assumed he would bring it to her. He'd given her a reason to go, but was she brave enough to risk it?

He looked at her as they rode, once more studying her. Cassie was glad she had her hat pulled down low on her forehead to shelter her face from the sun, which blazed warmly against her side. “You're not used to that,” he said.

Cassie looked up at him from beneath the brim of her hat. “Used to what?”

“People being nice to you.”

Was he teasing her again? His face was inscrutable. “What makes you say that?” Cassie asked.

“Because every time somebody is nice to you, you look surprised.”

Cassie's first reaction was to protest. Then she noticed he was grinning at her. It was almost as if he enjoyed antagonizing her. Or could it just be teasing? It had been so long since Cassie had interacted with a man besides Manuel that she wasn't sure how to react. When she saw his grin, she had a sudden desire to reach over and smack his arm, just because he was enjoying himself so much.

Her fear, so easily found, wouldn't let her. It controlled everything she did. As long as she stayed in her safe little circle, she was fine, but when she was out, and around other people, it ruled her life. Would it be that hard to let her walls down, just a little?

Not every man was a rapist. But how could she tell? She never would have considered Paul Stacy capable of the deed. The best way to stay safe was not to let her guard down, as tempting as it might be to do so with Jacob Reece.

As she couldn't go around waving her gun in his face, she relied on her other weapon to keep the walls up. Words could build walls just as easily as weapons and she knew from experience that they could sting just as much.

“Are you always this nosy?” she asked. “Or is it just me?”

“I wouldn't call making an observation being nosy,” he quickly replied. “And believe me, you're going to have a lot of people in your business once they find out what you've got in your little valley.”

Cassie refused to look at him. She didn't want him to know that she was worried about the reaction to her sheep. “As long as I keep my sheep in my valley it shouldn't be anyone's business what I do.”

“Suspicious and defensive,” Jake said. “That's an interesting combination in a neighbor.”

Why did he agitate her so much? Was it deliberate? Was he trying to get a rise out of her? She shouldn't respond and yet she couldn't help herself. “I don't recall asking for your opinion or your approval,” Cassie retorted. “I've managed just fine the past couple of years without either.”

“And how is that working out for you?”

“And once again, you've come back to being nosy,” Cassie said. “Like your constant use of bad language, it's a bad habit.”

He put his hand over his heart as if she'd shot him. “Why, Miss Parker,” he drawled. “I've been a perfect gentleman this morning. Nary a curse has left my lips.”

He was teasing her, yet she couldn't help but think that there was also genuine concern there. That may have scared her more than anything. Cassie shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I think it best if we not talk anymore.”

“Ever?”

“Don't tempt me,” Cassie said. “Until we get to town. And only when it's necessary.”

“I am wounded to my very core.”

The look on his face let Cassie know that his imaginary wound wasn't serious. He grinned at her and arched an eyebrow in question. The grin was nice, and it cleared the storm clouds from his eyes like a fresh wind. It would be so easy to soften her edges, to enjoy the back-and-forth of conversation, to sink into knowing Jake Reece like she used to sink into a good book, but she couldn't. She was weak and she wouldn't survive it again. She could not let him in.

Instead she concentrated on the scenery around her. She'd not had a chance to pay attention to such things since she'd only been out of her small valley the one time, and she'd been too angry then over the incident with Libby to notice her surroundings.

Colorado was beautiful. The majesty of the snowcapped mountains, the varying shades of green that blanketed the ground, the clear purity of the water that tumbled through the stream along the side of the road. Everywhere she looked made her think of God as an artist with a great canvas and a pallet full of glorious colors. The wonder of it hurt her eyes.

What would her life be like if she'd received the letter about her grandfather's death before the decision was made to go to Texas? What would she have done? If she had known what lay before her, then no, she wouldn't have gone, but if she had known there was another option at the time, would she have chosen Colorado?

Cassie had to admit she still would have gone to Texas. How many attorneys offered a woman a chance to study law? It was all she'd wanted for as long as she could remember. Both her parents were educated. Her father had been a doctor, and her mother a teacher at a very exclusive school in Chicago, a position she found after Cassie's father's death. Cassie was able to attend the same school and could have taught there if she wanted, but she wanted to be an attorney. When she'd received the letter from Arthur Gleason saying he would take her on, she'd been thrilled.

“Did you forget the way to town already?”

Cassie pulled up on the reins to stop Puck. She'd been so lost in thought that she'd forgotten where she was and who she was with.

“I know I'm not supposed to talk, but if you want to get to town you've got to take this fork,” Jake said.

He was right. They'd come to the fork in the road and the sign was plainly marked “Angel's End.”

“You can go that way if you want,” he continued. “Maybe that's part of your plan. You can go up there and jump some claims and get the miners mad at you too.”

“With an attitude like yours it's a wonder the entire community isn't at war,” Cassie replied as she turned Puck in the right direction. “Maybe if you talked about peace as much as you do fighting, there wouldn't be any problems.”

“Oh no,” Jake said. “You've got no one to blame but yourself for what's coming.”

“Thank you for being the voice of doom,” Cassie said. “Did it ever occur to you that if I just sat down and talked with the rest of the ranchers and explained to them that I plan on keeping my sheep within the confines of my valley that there won't be a problem? Or is everyone around here as unreasonable as you?”

He laughed and shrugged his shoulders good-naturedly. “Don't say I didn't try to warn you.” Cassie shook her head in disgust, and with a gentle nudge of her heels sent Puck into a slow trot, intent on leaving Jake Reece behind. But he easily caught up and fell in beside her.

“The voice of doom,” he said. “That was a good one. And you are?”

“The voice of reason,” she said. “Which has been sorely missing if you are any indication.”

He chuckled some more. It was a nice sound. Pleasant and comforting. He was a hard man to stay irritated with—and that frightened her more than anything.