Deborah Camp (16 page)

“What are you thinking about, baby?” Jewel asked, dropping to her haunches beside his chair, her full black skirt spreading around her. She gripped the chair arm to steady herself and fixed her keen gaze on him. Her green eyes were the same shade as he remembered Peggy Sue’s were and just as compassionate.

Rook blinked away the past. “About Aunt Pearl and Uncle Hollis and all the rest. You told Cassie I had a family back East, and she thinks you meant a wife and children.”

“I’m not the only one to jump to conclusions, I guess.” Jewel’s round face assumed a pitiful expression. “You still mad at your old mama?”

“No, I guess not.”

“I love you, baby.”

“Do you?” Rook asked, giving her his full attention.

“Of course I do.” Jewel boxed his ear playfully. “What’s wrong with you, boy? Feeling sorry for yourself?”

“Have you heard from Blackie?”

“No, and don’t expect to.”

“Heard anything about him? Do you know where he’s hiding out?”

“No, but I imagine he’s holed up in the Ozarks. Could be right around here.”

“Cassie’s got it into her head that he and the gang have been spending time in the old mine.”

“Shorty’s mine?”

“That’s the one.”

Jewel straightened up slowly, her joints creaking. “She’s spooked. She’s looking for shadows in sunlight.”

“She found a tin cup in the mine that doesn’t belong to her.” He angled a shrewd glance at Jewel and lifted one winged brow when her mouth dropped open. “I agree that she’s spooked, but she’s used to tracking animals and I think she’s got a nose for sniffing out strangers.”

“You think he’s been here?”

“I think someone’s been in that mine.” He looked out the window again to where Cassie was feeding Irish in the lean-to. “Cassie thinks so too. She’s sure that whoever plugged me also killed Shorty.”

“Oh, piddle!” Jewel folded her arms at her waist and wrinkled her pug nose. “That’s a long shot. I don’t figure there’s any connection except you were both gunned down by a coward, and Blackie isn’t the only coward in Arkansas. This state is full of them.”

“Are the lawmen still gunning for Blackie?”

“Hot and heavy,” Jewel said with a decisive nod. “You stay put. If you’re spotted in town, you’re a dead man. Once you’re well, I’ll slip you onto a train headed east, away from this bloodthirsty bunch of bounty hunters.” She sat on the windowsill, partially blocking his view of Cassie’s world. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better. I had a bad spell once, but Cassie pulled
me through it and I bounced back fast.” He rolled his shoulder to demonstrate his wellness. “Hardly notice it unless I accidently hit it against something.”

Rook leaned to one side to get a better view of Cassie and her chicks. “She’s proud of those chickens, isn’t she? You made her happy today.”

Jewel smiled but didn’t look over her shoulder at the young woman who held her son’s rapt attention. Rook’s eyes told her a lot about his feelings; dark brown eyes that contained interest, amusement, and a dash of male vigor as they continued to observe every move of the female outside the window.

“You still think she’s as tough as beef jerky?” Jewel asked, laughter threading through her voice.

Rook crossed one ankle over the other and tipped the chair back even further. “She can be. Mostly she’s not—she’s soft and easily hurt. How long have you known her?”

“Going on ten years, I guess.” Jewel glanced up at the ceiling, searching for a memory, a memory of a flaxen-haired child with cornflower blue eyes, a ragamuffin of a girl who had a serious cast to her young face even way back men. “I met her and Shorty in town at the dry goods store. I was buying material and Shorty was looking at a bolt of white muslin to make a dress of some sort for his child. I butted in, the way I do, and I told him white wasn’t a good choice for a rambunctious child. I pointed out a dark brown bolt of cloth, and he bought a few yards of it instead.”

“I wish you’d pointed out a brighter color,” Rook said, frowning at the thought of all those drab colors Cassie clung to as if she were a widow in mourning. He sensed Jewel’s confusion and shrugged it off. “Go on with your story.”

“Well, me and Shorty talked some, and he told me about his spread outside of town. He was real friendly, not like most people who treat me like trash. He invited me out to visit him and I took him up on it. We visited back and forth after that. He was a good fella, and Cassie’s always been sweet to me. I’ve felt sorry for her since she reached womanhood. Shorty didn’t do right by her. He treated her like she was a son instead of a young girl who needed
young men around her. I tried to get her to socialize, but she was afraid to leave Shorty and the things that were familiar to her.”

“She’s the most innocent thing I’ve come across,” Rook agreed. “Like a fawn. All wide-eyed innocence.” He smiled in sudden remembrance. “But she can be a hellcat sometimes. I think the fawn has a lot of spirit inside her.”

“She’s spunky,” Jewel agreed, intrigued by Rook’s intense study of Cassie. “Maybe you think she’s so interesting because she’s the only thing female around this place other than those chicks out there.”

Rook lifted one brow to indicate his qualified acceptance of that statement. “Yes, that’s partly true. I admit when I first rode up on Cassie I thought she was about as attractive as a sow in a mudhole, but she cleaned up right nice.” He winked mischievously at Jewel. “She’s got potential.”

Jewel bent at the waist until she was eyeball to eyeball with him. “Listen here, sonny boy. I grant you she’s pretty and could be prettier, but she doesn’t know a thing about men. She
is
an innocent, Rook. Don’t go scaring her any more than she already is about men and their hankerings.”

“She’s scared because of ignorance. We’re all scared of the unknown. What’s wrong with Cassie getting a little education?”

“Rook,” Jewel said, her voice rising in a warning, “you concentrate on healing up and leave that girl alone. I don’t want her hurt.”

“There you go again.” He angled his body away from her in a gesture of reproach. “What do you think I am? Some kind of animal? I wouldn’t hurt her. I’m not Blackie.”

“Does he abuse women too?”

Rook chuckled sarcastically. “What do you think? Like father, like son.”

“Your daddy wasn’t like that!” Jewel swung away from him, and Rook sprang to his feet. “Dubbin was a mite wild, but he was basically a good man.”

“Jewel,” Rook said in a patronizing tone, “Dubbin was an outlaw most of his life. All he knew was train and bank robbing. You had three of his children, and he never once
offered to help you with them or help pay for their upkeep. Not one dollar!”

“But he never killed anyone or raped any women!” Jewel said, whirling around to face her son. “I admit that Blackie’s rotten to the core, but he didn’t get that way because of Dubbin.”

Rook shrugged and turned back to the window. “Let’s not fight. You loved Dubbin and I never got a chance to love him. All I know is what I’ve read about him in the newspapers and on ‘Wanted’ posters.”

“You look a lot like him,” Jewel said, her tone growing soft and wistful.

“But I’m not like him,” Rook said. “I never wanted to follow in his footsteps. I figured I could do a sight better for myself than that.” He glanced at her, shrugged, and decided to let her have her romantic notions of Dubbin Colton. “Do me a favor, Jewel. Write to Peggy and let her know I’m here visiting you. I don’t want her to worry, should she try to reach me and can’t.”

“I’ll do it.” Jewel came up behind him, placed her hands gently on his shoulders, and lightly kissed his shirt where it covered his wound. “I love you, baby. All I want is to protect you. I want you to have a full life … a good life. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you kids.”

Love for his mother welled up in Rook. “I know,” he whispered. “You’ve done the best you could under the circumstances. We all knew that. We all understood.”

“Even Blackie?” Jewel asked.

“I think Blackie understood more than me or Peg.” The field outside faded before Rook’s eyes and he saw in its place his brother’s stark, dangerous smile, a grin that was nearly a snarl. “All he ever wanted was the good life too. Problem is, he never wanted to work for it.”

“I was an embarrassment to you kids,” Jewel said, still caught up in her own thoughts. “I knew that. I felt it. That’s why I stayed away as much as I could.”

“Don’t worry over things you can’t change,” Rook counseled. “That was yesterday. None of us is ashamed of you anymore.”

“Thanks, hon.” She kissed his shoulder blade, then
looked past him to where Cassie was inspecting her garden. “I worry about that girl. What’s to become of her? She can’t stay out here by herself for long.”

“I think she knows that. She’s just clinging to this place until she can think straight.”

“Maybe you can help her.”

“A minute ago you were telling me to stay away from her.”

“I don’t want her heart broken, but it would be good if she faced up to what’s ahead of her.”

“Jewel, do you think I could break her heart?” Rook asked, glancing over his shoulder at his mother. An immodest grin crept over his lips.

Jewel smiled knowingly and nodded. “You could without even realizing it. Cassie’s spirit is tough, but she’s got a heart of glass.”

Rook stumbled out of the mine. Sunlight pounded his eyes and he placed his hands over them, separating his fingers a fraction of an inch at a time and giving his eyes a chance to adjust to the strong light of the setting sun.

He pushed the soil- and rock-laden wheelbarrow to one side and removed the cloth hat from his head. Clouds of dust rose from him as he dropped the hat into the wheel-barrow along with his gloves and the kerchief he’d tied around his neck. He coughed, feeling as if his lungs were on fire. The patch of green grass at his feet was inviting, and Rook dropped to the ground and stretched out on his side. The grass smelled fresh and clean to him after a day in the mine, and he relished its perfume. Irish came over to him, nudged his shoulder, then blew warm air into his ear.

“Get away. This grass is mine. Go find your own.” He opened one eye and watched the horse return to the bush it had been chomping on most of the day. Rook closed his eye and sighed thankfully for the piece of fragrant earth and the slanting rays on his back.

After a week of learning how to mine from the resourceful Cassie, he’d gradually built up his strength until he’d been able to spend the last two days pounding rock and
dirt in search of a glimmer of gold. Not that he or Cassie expected to see any spark of wealth, but it kept them busy. Cassie fussed over her chicks and garden while Rook gathered dirt and hauled it outside the mine.

He’d often wondered if his brother had spent a night or two in the mine and if Blackie felt any remorse for having shot him in the back. Rook closed his eyes as he rested comfortably on the warm ground. It was more comfortable than the cot he’d been sleeping on since Jewel’s last visit. He’d insisted at that time that he was well enough to take the cot, and Jewel and Cassie had slept in the bedroom. After Jewel had gone, Rook had urged Cassie to keep her bed and her bedroom and she’d given in to his reasoning. Besides, he’d thought to himself, he might sleep easier on Shorty’s cot. Cassie’s bed made him think of women, dream of women, long for women. In Shorty’s bed he thought of the man and his daughter, their lives, their meager environment. He imagined Cassie as a fragile child being dragged by her father from one pie-in-the-sky venture to another.

Rook told himself to get up and go to the cabin, but the earth was warm and the grass smelled wonderful. He pressed the side of his face against the green stuff and stretched out his arm. The wound was healing, thanks to Cassie’s patient attention. It wouldn’t be too long before he could travel, but for some reason he didn’t want to dwell on that. Leaving was something … well, something to deal with later.

“Rook!”

Cassie’s blood-curdling scream made his eyes pop open, and he was standing up before he was aware of having moved. Swaying slightly, blinking stupidly, he stood before her trying to understand the reason for her flushed face and feverish eyes.

“What?” he asked, looking around for the cause of her shrill cry and trembling body.

Her eyes closed slowly and one hand fluttered up to cover her throat. “Lordy, lordy! You gave me a start! I thought … when I saw you laying there … just like Pa … I thought, ‘Sweet Jesus, I’ve lost me another man!’ ”

The import of her words, her slip of the tongue, and the way she had misunderstood what his prone position meant all brought a smile to his face. “Is that what you thought?” he asked, teasing, his smile broadening when she blushed. “Sorry, Cassie. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What were you doing, laying out here like that?”

“I was communing with Mother Nature.”

“Com … what?”

“Resting,” he said, rolling his head around on his neck. “Just resting my weary bones.”

“Well, don’t do it that way anymore,” she scolded. “You took ten years off my growth.” She swept the hair that had escaped the confines of her braid back from her temples and high cheekbones. “So you’re finished for the day?”

“Yes, I’ve mined all the gold I can today,” he jested. “One thing I’ll say for the mine: it makes you appreciate soap and water. I’m going to ride Irish over to the hollow and wash in the creek,” he said, whistling for the chestnut. Irish came to him, ears pricked, nostrils flared. “Want to head for the creek, son?”

“You can use my washtub out back,” Cassie offered, knowing he’d demur. He never washed in the tub, always choosing the creek. He had fallen into a routine and Cassie was resigned to it. Even as he moved toward the mine, she knew that he was going after the change of clothes he always brought with him every morning. He’d put them on after he was clean; then he’d wash his soiled clothes before coming back to the cabin for his supper.

“No, thanks anyway. I like to swim in the creek. It’s good for my arm.” Rook tucked the rolled clothing under his arm, grabbed a handful of Irish’s mane and hauled himself up to sit astride the horse. “Did you want something?”