Lorraine Heath (13 page)

Rebecca sidled up to Jake and he put his arm around her, his hand resting on the small of her back. Zach wondered if these two were even aware of how much they touched each other.

“I take it Frank’s not in the bunkhouse,” Jake said.

“Nope. No one’s seen him since he left the Readings’.”

Jake released a deep sigh. “If Ethan’s harmed that boy, he and I’ll be settling up.”

“The line starts behind me,” Zach said.

Jake nodded acceptance of Zach’s feelings, knowing, however, that if Ethan were involved, no one would get to him before Jake did. “Go get the men. We’ll split up into groups and go searching for him.”

The two men walked out of the house without another word and Rebecca went to change clothes.

Moments later she stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind her.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” A harsh voice sounded and she turned to confront Zach. His face was set in stark lines, his lips pressed so tightly together they were almost invisible, his brown eyes almost black.

“I’m going with you,” she said.

“The hell you are.”

Taken aback, Rebecca stated calmly, “Zach, you’re overstepping your bounds on this.”

Zach turned to Jake. “Tell her she’s not going,” he demanded.

Jake handed the reins to his wife. “Why would I do that?” he asked as he helped her mount. “She’s the best tracker I know.”

The three rode out together. The absence of a moon was a hindrance as their horses plodded along. All they could see was what surrounded them—a black abyss. Jake and Zach each held a lantern which aided them in their search as much as the moon did. No breeze whispered across the
land to bring them any scents, the occasional howl of a coyote raised the fine hairs on the back of their necks. Their quest for the missing Frank seemed hopeless but each rider was equally reluctant to turn back.

Rebecca reached out to touch Jake’s arm.

“Over there. I think I see some burning embers.”

Jake squinted towards the blackness. “I think you’re right. Let’s check it out.”

Zach stared in the direction they had both looked and all he could see was the darkness.

Frank lay on the solid ground, his hands tied to his ankles, his ankles bound together. He hadn’t been brave but he didn’t think he had been a coward either. What man wouldn’t have reacted the way he had under the circumstances?

Trouble had come in the form of galloping riders, brandishing torches, shouting, and firing random shots that whizzed by him so close he was certain they were meant for his skinny hide. He had urged his horse into a full gallop back towards the Rocking R but he had known his actions were futile. He heard the whistling of the lariat before the circle of rope closed around him, pinning his arms to his body. His horse continued galloping towards the ranch as Frank was jerked out of the saddle by the unrelenting master of the rope. The air was painfully knocked out of his lungs as his body made contact with the hard ground. Descending on him like starved vultures, the men had tied his hands before him and dragged more than walked him back to their camp.

Their small camp had had a temporary look about it. A fire set in the middle was heating up a branding iron. Frank had thought as he’d watched the metal glowing brightly that it was a damned odd time of day to be branding cattle. In the firelight, he’d noticed all the men were wearing their bandannas drawn up over their noses and wondered if they were cattle rustlers.

One of the men had dismounted and started untying his hands.

“Got us a maverick here,” he’d said in a raspy voice that sounded like someone had scrubbed his throat with a stiff-bristled brush.

The man closest to the fire had lifted the red-hot iron out of the flames and said, “Then I guess we’d best brand him.”

The full impact of those words had hit Frank like a bucking bronco. Yelling his usual curse, he had managed to break free. His dash for freedom had been cut short as a man near the fire had sent out a twirling rope and lassoed him. Laughter had echoed around him as the men trussed him up, worked his pants down and applied the fiery hot brand to his tender, young flesh. His agonizing scream rent the still night air.

And now with his backside still bringing tears to his eyes, he lay alone wondering what he was going to do to get out of this unjust predicament, hoping those howling coyote weren’t hungry, wishing he’d stayed at the Reading Ranch. Ruth’s snubs hadn’t hurt his pride as badly as the beating that had just been delivered to him.

He saw the flickering light of lanterns, heard the riders and, praying it wasn’t the men returning, he lifted his head to get a better look. Goddamn, it was Rebecca.

“Oh, Frank!” Rebecca wailed with tears in her eyes when she caught sight of him.

“Get her away from me!” he yelled. He looked imploringly at Jake as the man knelt down beside Rebecca and started to cut the bindings. “I’m exposed!”

“Relax, Frank,” Rebecca said as she ran her fingers along his brow. “I’ve seen your bare backside before.”

“The hell you have! I swear, Jake, I’ve never shown her anything!”

Zach sat on his haunches, intrigued. Whether she had seen Frank or not, she had the young man so upset that he wasn’t paying any attention to the ministrations she was now carefully bestowing upon him.

“Sure you have. At the watering hole at the Lazy A,” Rebecca explained.

Frank’s eyes widened.

“That’s right,” she said as she carefully examined his burn. “When you cowpokes were supposed to be out watching the herds, you’d sneak off when you got too hot and go swimming in my watering hole.”

“How did you know?” Frank asked, trying desperately to remember everything they’d said and done. Hell, men might say or do anything if they thought no women were around.

“Because I was swimming there first and had to get out when the bunch of you showed up. So I decided to stay and watch the show.”

“Is that all you did?” Frank asked. “Watch?”

“Nope. I listened too. And you know that story Lee told about that contortionist woman he said he bedded?”

Two harsh curses were uttered at once, and Zach worked hard to stifle his laughter, making a mental note to ask Jake about this particular story.

“I didn’t believe a word of it,” Rebecca said. She turned to Jake. “I think we ought to cut the backside out of his pants and take him home. I can tend him better there.”

“But these are my best pants!” Frank wailed.

“I’ll buy you another pair,” Jake said as he set about the task before they began the long trek back.

Rebecca tended Frank’s burn and then returned to the house while Jake took some time to talk with the returning men. She sat on the bed, her legs curled up, her stomach protruding out as far as it could. She heard Jake come in and saw the light before the quilt dim, but he didn’t come to bed.

“Are we still friends?” she asked as she came to stand before the sofa where he was sitting, elbows on his knees, his shoulders hunched over, his head bowed. His head shot up.

“Why the hell wouldn’t we be?” “Because of what I did earlier when you were taking off my shoes … the things I said.”

Leaning forward, he took her hand in his and pulled her
down to the sofa. He brought her head to rest in the crook of his shoulder.

“We’d be in a sorry state if our friendship was that fragile. Our marriage didn’t come about like most. But I haven’t changed my mind about anything I said when I asked you to marry me.” Jake rubbed a hand down his thigh, and then said softly, “Don’t take offense at what I’m going to say.” He looked down at her, and she was looking up at him with such concern that all he wanted to do was ease the worry lines between her brows. “You’ve been with a man … a man you love. I imagine there’s nothing finer than when two people who love each other—” He moved a hand slowly through the air as though it were a blanket covering two lovers. “What I have to offer you … it won’t be as fine … so it has to be what you want.”

“It seems so unfair to you.”

He shook his head. “You were honest with me about your feelings when I asked you to marry me. I got no cause to complain. Besides … winter’s coming soon and you can start earning your keep.”

Rebecca put her hand on her expanded girth. “Somehow I don’t think I’m going to look very springlike.”

“Close enough to keep me happy.”

She snuggled up closer. “You’re a good friend, Jake. Always have been.”

He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “Zach and I are going to ride out first light and see if we can figure out what was going on tonight.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful. Men that would do that to Frank are capable of doing anything.”

Jake hunkered down before the barren ashes watching as the wind caught and swirled the dry remains of the campfire. He lifted the iron that had been heated to a redhot glow and pressed against Frank’s backside. A wellspring of anger, too long suppressed, gushed forth.

“It’s a poor imitation,” he said, his voice harsh.

Zach knelt down beside him, his eyes studying the offending object.

“Guess they chose your brand to make a point.”

Jake nodded as he slowly twirled the stem of the brand.

“I don’t think Frank was sought out,” Zach added. “I think he just happened to be the unlucky one passing by. Whoever did this would have probably preferred someone who wasn’t one of your men.”

“Lord, I’m thinking of John Reading riding all over the place, laughing, telling people about those geese. What if they’d happened upon him first?”

Jake dropped his head wondering if he was at fault. Was someone making a statement against him, his fencing? Or were the men who had attacked Frank just mean bastards with nothing better to do than harass decent folks? Jake looked off into the distance. They hadn’t found one thing to tell them who was responsible. And yet he couldn’t help but feel that somehow Ethan was involved.

He’d been twelve the first time Ethan had told everyone within hearing distance the crude things his mother had done with men for money. He’d delivered a blow to Ethan’s chest; Ethan had responded by plowing his hardened fists into Jake’s face. The raised ridge on the bridge of his nose and some scars on his backside from the lashes he’d received from Truscott’s belt served as a reminder of that day. Ethan had received no lashes. The lesson to be learned was to turn the other cheek. This had made Jake laugh since he hadn’t been able to sit down on either cheek for a week.

Other fights had followed, Ethan always claiming victory. Until the day they’d put Thomas Truscott in the ground. Jake had pummeled his fists into Ethan until the man couldn’t move, until there could be no doubt who’d won. But standing over Ethan with bloodied fists, he’d realized he hadn’t won anything at all. He’d found no victory, no pride, only emptiness.

“What ever happened with Lisa Sue?” Jake asked quietly, turning his gaze towards Zach. His head snapped around so fast Jake heard his neck pop.

“Lisa Sue?”

“Thought you two were sweet on each other.”

Zach lifted up the dust and threw it into the wind, watching
it sail away until it was nothing. He shrugged. “She wasn’t too keen on marrying a man who had nothing to offer. Told her I’d come for her once we got settled here, once I knew we could make a go of it. Three months later, she married Joe Raskins.” “Joe Raskins?”

The look of horror on Jake’s face made Zach laugh. It was the first time he’d thought of Lisa Sue without hurting.

“Good Lord. If she wasn’t going to marry you, at least she didn’t have to lower herself to Joe Raskins. ‘Less he’s changed considerable since I knew him.”

Zach shook his head, his eyes twinkling. “Same as he was when we went to school with him. Obnoxious as hell. Only comfort I got from knowing she’d married him was knowing it wouldn’t take her long to regret it. But then … after a while, that thought held no comfort either. I loved her. Hate thinking she’ll spend the rest of her life unhappy.”

“Because I got the land and you got the debts?” Zach’s expression hardened. “I don’t resent you getting the land. I figure every stroke of his strap bought you an acre of land. No, what I resent is his burying us in debt up to our necks and not leaving a spade for us to dig ourselves out with.”

“I’m sorry about Lisa Sue.”

Zach forced a small smile. “It’s probably just as well. Got to admit, though, I envy the hell out of you. Married to Rebecca.”

“I don’t think you’d envy me if you knew the cost.”

“I’d pay any price for a woman like Rebecca.”

Jake studied the sleek nose, the hollow cheeks, the firm chin, the deep brown eyes of the man before him. He looked back at the iron that was growing heavy in his hand. “You probably wouldn’t have to pay the same price.” He fought for a while against saying the words but last night had made him remember how true they were. “She doesn’t love me.”

“You’re crazy. The woman adores you.”

Jake said nothing. He wouldn’t argue what he knew in his heart to be true.

Zach shook his head. Lee had told him that Rebecca was pregnant when Jake married her. But then, based on the story Lee had related with relish about the contortionist, Zach wasn’t certain Lee could be trusted to tell the exact truth. “Rebecca doesn’t strike me as the type of woman who would lie with a man she didn’t love.”

Jake dropped the iron and brought himself to his feet. “She didn’t.”

Zach wanted a further explanation of what that remark meant—had she loved him and stopped? Was she carrying another man’s baby?—but Jake pulled himself up onto his horse. “I’m going to go check the west side. Why don’t you head east and we’ll meet back here?”

Zach could do no more than nod, and envy was the last thing he felt at the moment.

It was late in the evening before a weary Jake and an exhausted Zach walked into the house. Rebecca poured two cups of black coffee and set them down before the men as they dropped into chairs. Rebecca moved around behind Jake and began kneading the muscles in his shoulders.

“No luck?” she asked.

“There’s not even an unbranded stray calf on our land today,” Jake said.

“Think it was Ethan?” she asked Zach.