Daisies In The Wind (37 page)

So she explained about the mine—about Neely
Stoner, Fred Baker, Russ, and Homer. “Bear never mentioned anything
about it during his visits to me, or in any letters—that’s the
strange part,” Rebeccah concluded. “I have no deed, no map, no
reason at all to believe that there even is such a fabulous
find—but I can’t convince any one of these outlaws that it doesn’t
exist.”

“Do you know anything about it?” Wolf
inquired, studying Crystal’s startled expression. “We’d appreciate
any information you can give us, no matter how unimportant it
seems.”

“Oh, I can do better than that, Sheriff
Bodine.” Crystal rose and hastened toward a gilt-framed seascape
hanging on the wall. She suddenly swung the painting outward away
from the wall to reveal a safe behind it. From the pocket of her
skirt she drew a key. “I’ve kept all of your father’s letters to me
these past few years. One in particular will be of interest to
you.”

Wolf and Rebeccah exchanged glances. Crystal
withdrew a packet of letters tied with blue ribbon. She brought
them to her desk with slow steps and began riffling through them.
“Here it is,” she exclaimed at last, and held out a sheet of plain
paper.

“Rebeccah, read this. He wrote it about a
year ago. This page here is all about the mine.”

Rebeccah’s heart twisted painfully as she
glanced down at the bold, rather awkward script that was her
father’s handwriting. Her breathing quickened as she read the
words.

The boys helped me out of a bad spot
last week, and I was mighty grateful to them. I don’t want to scare
you none, Crystal honey, but if they hadn’t come through for me
when they did, I wouldn’t be here to tell you all about it, and
wouldn’t be coming to see you soon neither. I told them a tall
tale, though, when we’d all made good our escape, and I feel right
bad about it. I told them that I had the deed to a big silver mine,
that I’d won it at cards like I won the ranch, and that they’d all
get a piece of it one day. Russ pressed me to say where it was; and
all the boys wanted to go straight off and claim it, but I told
them we’d cash in our chips when the time was right. Well, Crystal
honey, the truth of the matter is, there ain’t no silver mine at
all. But I got to thinking after they helped me out of that tight
spot that next time they might not want to risk their necks for old
Bear—unless they thought there was something in it for them. If
they think I’ve got something that’s going to make rich, fat men
out of all of ‘em one of these days, they’ll make a damned sight
sure I live long enough to spread that wealth around. It seemed
like a mighty good idea at the time, but somehow or other, rumors
have started flying about that mine—folks I never even met are
whispering about it. And I realize that if I ‘fess up, the boys’ll
be mighty riled at me for getting their hopes up and making them
look like damned fools. So I reckon I’d better keep my mouth shut
and hope they forget all about it and the talk dies down, or else
things might get pretty ugly. I reckon if I would have thought it
out before I started the story, I’d have thought better of it, but
these days I’m not thinking about much but being with you, my sweet
pretty little Crystal. Well, I reckon it’s no harm having them
think they’ve got a silver boon coming if I stay healthy. Maybe
sometime I’ll tell them the truth and see if they know how to laugh
at themselves. Meanwhile I’m going to visit my darlin’ Reb in a
week or two, and I can’t hardly wait. She’s turned into a beauty,
and a young lady to boot, and I hope one day the two of you will
get to meet each other. I figure you’d get along real good—my two
favorite gals
.

Rebeccah bit her lip. She found that her
hands were shaking. He sounded so happy, so filled with affection
for this woman who stood across from her, her gaze turned toward
the window while Rebeccah read. Wordlessly Rebeccah handed the
letter to Wolf and waited as he read it. She was struggling with
her emotions. Fresh grief welled up in her for her father. Bear
Rawlings had been many things, not all of them good, but to her he
had always been the kindest, strongest, smartest, and most
bighearted of fathers.

She saw Crystal McCoy wipe away a tear and
knew instinctively that this demure, elegant woman missed him as
much as she did.

“Well, that explains it,” Wolf muttered,
handing the letter back to Crystal. He threw a hard glance at
Rebeccah. “Some little joke. Too bad he never foresaw that it could
cost his daughter her life.”

“Bear would never have done anything to
endanger Rebeccah,” Crystal said quickly.

Rebeccah liked how she sprang to his
defense.

“He thought of her in Boston as being so
completely safe and far away and removed from everything wild and
rough—I’m certain he never, ever dreamed this silly rumor would
grow and become a threat to her. Or he would have ended it
immediately.”

“Well, we have to end it now—somehow,” Wolf
said grimly. “Mind if we take this letter with us, Miss McCoy?”

“Call me Crystal. And yes, please take it and
use it however you can to put an end to all this. What else can I
do to help?”

“You’ve done so much already.” Rebeccah
smiled. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Stay in town and have supper with me,”
Crystal implored, her velvety smile embracing them both. “The
Emerson Hotel has the finest steak and potatoes in cattle country.
Say you’ll join me.”

Rebeccah threw Wolf a hopeful, questioning
glance.

“We have to eat.” He shrugged, still
pondering how he could protect her from a lying boast that was
bringing the worst scoundrels in the territory to her door. How the
hell would he do it?

“You heard what the man said. We have to
eat,” Rebeccah told Crystal and then grinned. “We’d be pleased and
honored to join you.”

* * *

“You gotta eat,” Neely Stoner told Billy. He
gave a mocking guffaw at the boy’s curt shake of the head. “What’s
the matter—campfire grub not good enough for you? Well, you’ll get
used to it.”

Billy only glared at him, trying to look as
if he wasn’t afraid. But he was afraid. He was afraid of both of
these men who had sprung out at him and Joey while they were
hunting squirrels with Sam. The taller man had knocked Joey to the
ground with one powerful blow, while the other one, the one who was
always hanging around the saloon and visiting Miss Rawlings, shot
Sam.

Billy tried not to think about Sam being
dead. Sam had tried to protect him when Chance Navarro had scooped
him up onto his horse and started riding off with him. But it had
all happened so quickly, Sam couldn’t have stopped any of it. Why
did Navarro have to shoot him?

Billy knew the answer to his own question.
Because both Navarro and this tall, long-faced hombre with the
curly tobacco-colored mustache were badmen. Evil men. The kind of
men his father was sworn to go after to keep ordinary citizens
safe.

Billy knew he wasn’t safe with men like
these. They thought no more of snuffing out a human life than a
dog’s—or a mosquito’s for that matter. Tears started behind his
eyes. He was thinking about Sam.

Don’t
, he ordered himself.
Don’t
cry. They’ll like that. You can’t let them see that you’re
scared.

But he was too late. The one called Chance
was grinning at him over his coffee cup, stretched out leisurely on
the opposite side of the campfire.

“Don’t cry, boy,” he taunted in a soft voice.
“You’ll come out of this all right. We’re not interested in you at
all. We’re only hankering to get a certain lady’s attention.”

“Miss Rawlings? You’ve tried to do that—but
she doesn’t pay much attention to you, does she? She likes me and
my pa better.”

“You’d best hope she likes you well enough,
kid,” the tall man warned, sitting down next to Billy and taking
out his gun. He began to polish it with a cloth from his saddle
pack, studying every angle and line of the Colt with a loving eye.
“Or else you can say adios to your pa and Miss Rawlings and Powder
Creek—forever. If Miss Rawlings don’t do exactly as we tell her,
we’re going to shoot you full of holes and drop you down that
ravine over there and let the buzzards eat you.”

He broke into raucous laughter, and Navarro
let out an answering chuckle. Billy clenched his teeth.

“Go to hell,” he muttered, too angry to be
scared anymore. “My pa is going to kill you both. And the
buzzards’ll eat you.”

Both men sobered suddenly and regarded him
with hard, stoic expressions. “Could be,” the tall man said slowly,
and nodded. “But don’t bet on it, boy.”

Chance Navarro smiled coldly at him across
the fire.

“Pray tonight, boy. Pray real hard. And maybe
you’ll live to see your pretty Miss Rawlings again.”

He didn’t say I’d see Pa
, Billy
thought with a little choke of fear. He stared at Navarro, who was
watching him smugly.
Why doesn’t he think I’m going to see
Pa?

Billy inched closer to the fire and closed
his eyes. He hoped his gramma was watching over them. He and Pa and
Miss Rawlings were going to need all the help they could get.

It was suppertime the next evening when
Rebeccah and Wolf rode up the trail to her ranch. The quiet of
early evening was descending. Barely a twig rustled or bird chirped
as they dismounted before the little cabin and went inside.

Everything was just as neat and orderly as
she had left it two days ago when she’d set out in the morning for
the schoolhouse. Rebeccah could scarcely believe that so much had
happened in the space of two days.

“Pack what you’ll need, and then we’ll go
find Billy,” Wolf said after making a quick inspection of the
bedroom to make certain no one had been inside. “You’re not
spending one more night alone here.”

“What will the townsfolk say about my staying
with you, Sheriff Bodine?” she teased, too happy with all that had
happened between them to share his grim concern. “Honestly I do
think you’re worrying more than is necessary. Russ, Homer, and Fred
were the last members of the Rawlings gang. The only other person
who seems to be after this imaginary mine is Neely Stoner.”

So safe did she feel now with Wolf that she
even managed to speak the name without a tremor in her voice. But
Wolf took her by the shoulders. “He’s the last man on earth I want
you to have to tangle with. I’ve been making inquiries, and there’s
no word yet on him passing through any towns in these parts. But I
haven’t given up. He’s probably using a different handle these
days. I’m going to find him, Rebeccah, and put an end to this once
and for all. In the meantime I’m not taking no for an answer.
You’re coming back to the Double B tonight.”

His kiss was rough and urgent, yet tender for
all that. “Go pack,” he ordered softly, tracing her lips with his
tongue.

“But I have a better idea,” she coaxed, her
fingers sliding over the hard muscles of his back.

Wolf chuckled. “I’ll bet you do,
sweetheart.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. Why don’t you
go and find Billy and bring him back here for supper? That will
give me time to get my things together, and afterward we’ll all go
back to the Double B together.”

Wolf glanced out the window. It was quiet.
Too quiet. He had a strange feeling in his gut, but he couldn’t
identify the cause. He felt a sudden urgency to see his son.

“All right, Rebeccah.” He kissed her quickly
on the lips, wanting to linger, to hold her, and indeed to make
love to her right here in this very parlor, on that horsehair sofa
where she had bandaged his wound that first night and served him
coffee. But he couldn’t stay now. He needed to find Billy.

“I’ll check at the Double B first to see if
he’s there doing his chores. If not, I’ll try the Pritchards’ and
the Bradys’. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“By then I’ll have fixed us all a special
celebration supper. It might help break the news to him that he’s
going to have a houseguest.”

“Not just a houseguest. A new mother.” Wolf’s
arms felt deliciously strong as he wrapped them lovingly around
her. He spoke against the fragrant cloud of her hair. “Someone more
like a real mother to him than his own mother could ever have hoped
to be. He’s one lucky hombre. We both are. And you and I, Miss
Rawlings, are going to make it official just as soon as you can get
yourself the prettiest wedding dress you ever imagined.”

“I’d happily marry you in this,” Rebeccah
assured him, indicating her much-crumpled wool skirt and blouse,
“but since you mentioned it, I did happen to spy the most heavenly
mauve satin. It was in a mail-order catalog at Koppel’s, and—”

Rebeccah abruptly broke off. She threw
herself joyously into his arms. “Oh, Wolf, I’m so happy!”

Never before had she even dreamed of
happiness like this. Never before had the notion of settling down
in one place with one man and his one young child sounded so
delightfully wonderful to her.

“When I was a little girl,” she said slowly,
“I moved around all the time. And every time that moment came for
us to ride on, to run and rob and hide somewhere new, Bear used to
tell me that I was like his little daisy—a hardy wild flower, he
said, meant to be plucked from the earth and cast anyhow into the
wind. ‘See where the wind takes you, Reb,’ he would tell me as he’d
put me up in the saddle. It was a virtue in his mind—a strength—to
be able to let the wind take you this way or that, never putting
down roots or getting tied to an ordinary life. But now I see that
he was as wrong about that as he was about other things,” she told
Wolf quietly, her hands gently cupping his face. “I want to put
down my roots, I want to be connected deeply and firmly to a life
with you and Billy, here in Powder Creek. I don’t want to be blown
this way or that anymore or ever to know that kind of ‘freedom’
again.”