Lorraine Heath (35 page)

He went back to work and Cordelia averted her gaze from the sight of Dallas’s ravaged back. A gentle hand closed over her shoulder.

“I fed and bathed Rawley. He’s sleeping now. Let me take care of you,” Amelia said.

Cordelia shook her head. “Not until Dallas’s fever breaks.” “That could be a while.” “I know.”

After Dr. Freeman left, she stayed by Dallas’s side, wiping the sweat from his brow, his throat, rubbing ointment over his chaffed wrists, fighting back the tears that threatened to surface every time she gazed at his back.

He was so undeserving of the suffering. Even unconscious, his jaw remained clenched, his brow furrowed, his fists balled around the sheets. His body jerked from time to time. He moaned low in his throat, the sound like the bawl of a lonesome calf lost on the prairie.

It was late afternoon before footsteps thundered up the stairs. She came to her feet as Austin and Houston stormed into the room, the sheriff in their wake.

“How is he?” Houston asked as he ran his gaze over his brother’s back.

“Fighting. Did you find the men—”

“We found them,” Austin said as he slung himself into a chair beside the bed.

She looked at the sheriff. He seemed ill at ease standing in the room, holding his hat in his hand. “Did you arrest them?”

“No, ma’am. They’re dead.”

Cordelia stumbled back. “Dead?”

“Yes, ma’am. Somebody got to them before we did. Looks like whoever it was slit their throats while they were sleeping.”

Cordelia slammed her eyes closed. “Then you have no way of knowing which of my brothers paid them to kill Dallas.”

“No, ma’am.”

“Boyd,” Austin said.

“Why Boyd?” Sheriff Larkin asked. “Because he’s the oldest? Because he shot you? I gotta have a better reason than that to arrest a man.”

Austin bolted to his feet. “I can give you a good reason to arrest him.”

Houston harshly cleared his throat. Austin dropped his gaze. “Dallas wouldn’t want you to arrest him anyway. He takes care of his own problems.”

Houston stepped between Austin and the sheriff. “We’re all tired and bickering among ourselves isn’t going to help anything.”

Sheriff Larkin settled his hat into place. “Let me know when Dallas is up to talking. Maybe he knows something else.” He pointed his finger at Austin. “Don’t go breaking the law thinking it’ll even things out. Two men breaking the law is just two men breaking the law.”

“I ain’t gonna break the law, but I’m not going to let them get away with it either.”

Cordelia put her hand on Austin’s arm to restrain him. “I’ll handle this.” She shifted her gaze to the sheriff. “Thank you, Sheriff. If we should gather any other information, we’ll let you know.”

“You do that, ma’am. I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

He walked from the room. Cordelia turned to Austin. “What were you going to say before Houston stopped you?”

Austin looked at Houston, and Houston shook his head. Cordelia dug her fingers into Austin’s arm. “You promised to be my friend. What do you know that I don’t?”

Austin sighed heavily, his blue eyes filled with sadness as he touched his fingers to her cheek. “Boyd was behind the hotel the night you got hurt.”

Cordelia felt the blood drain from her face. “No.”

She watched Austin swallow. “Yeah, Dee. Apparently, he enjoyed hurting Rawley, paid his pa to let him do it.”

She staggered back and fell into the chair, her hand covering her mouth. “I’m sorry, Dee, I never meant for you to find out.” “Does Dallas know?”

“No. Houston and I talked about it. We figured Dallas would kill Boyd if he knew.”

“That doesn’t mean Boyd is responsible for this,” Houston pointed out. “We just know he’s got a mean streak … and apparently no conscience.”

Cordelia rose from the chair and took a deep breath. “If one of you can watch Dallas, I need to go speak with my family this afternoon.”

“I’m going with you,” Austin said.

Cordelia captured his gaze. “I’m taking the men with me. You’re welcome to come, but understand that I want no interference.”

“Amelia will watch Dallas. We’ll both come with you,” Houston said.

“All right. Let me make the arrangements.”

She walked out of the house to the barn where she found Slim brushing Satan’s coat to a velvety sheen. She supposed everyone felt a need to do something for Dallas in their own way. “Slim?”

He turned and gave her a lopsided grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I need you to gather up the men. I want to go talk with my family this afternoon, and I have no desire to go alone. Be sure every man is carrying a rifle and a side arm, and that they are prepared to use them if necessary—but only on my orders.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Austin and Houston are coming along as well. I’m certain they’ll go into the house with me. I’d like you there as well.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll saddle your horse.”

“Thank you, Slim.” She walked from the barn, across Dallas’s domain, grateful her name was no longer McQueen.

She didn’t bother to knock when she arrived at her father’s house. She simply walked through the door, Houston, Austin, and Slim in tow.

The house was shaped like an H. One story with three bedrooms on each side, the main living quarters arranged in the center. She walked through the front parlor, straight into her father’s study.

Her father sat behind his desk, nursing what she supposed was a whiskey, Duncan was slouched in a chair, and Boyd was staring out a window.

Boyd turned. Blinding white-hot rage swept through her as she crossed the room, brought her hand back, and slapped Boyd as hard as she could.

He grabbed her wrist, his fingers digging into her flesh. “What the hell?”

Three guns were drawn and cocked.

“Let her go,” Austin snarled, “or I’ll put a bullet through you where you stand.”

Boyd released her.

“What’s going on, Dee?” Duncan asked as he came to his feet.

“Boyd murdered my child. How could you? How could you leave me there? And then to demand that Dallas give you his land—” Bile rose in her throat as she turned away from him. She had never felt such revulsion.

“Well, after that little dramatic display—”

She spun around so quickly that Boyd stepped back.

“You haven’t seen my dramatic display yet.” He smiled condescendingly. “Calm down, Cordelia.

This behavior isn’t like you.”

“It’s exactly like me … now that I’m free of the oppression I lived under in this house.”

Boyd walked across the room and took his place behind her father’s chair. “You’ve made your point, Cordelia. You didn’t need to air our dirty laundry in front of others.”

“My point, Boyd?” Cordelia asked, the quivering in her stomach intensifying, but not yet spreading into her voice. “I haven’t begun to make my point. You need to move your cattle away from Dallas’s river. In the morning, our men will take the fence back to where it stood the day Dallas married me. Any of your cattle that remain will be confiscated.”

Her father struggled to his feet. “Have you lost your mind? Your husband gave his word—”

“Yes, he gave his word that he would pull the fence back if I married him. He kept his word. I just watched him flayed to within an inch of his life because one of my brothers paid Cooper to kill him.”

Boyd remained motionless, Duncan lowered his gaze. Her heart sank.

“Oh, Duncan, tell me it wasn’t you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dee.”

He lifted his gaze, and she saw the truth within his eyes. The plan had been Boyd’s, and Duncan had known of it.

“You knew,” she whispered. “You knew what Boyd planned, and you went along with it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeated. “Cooper was a drunk. Whatever he said was a lie.”

“Duncan’s right,” Boyd said. “It’s our word against Cooper’s. Who are you going to believe? Family or a drunk?”

“Cooper and his associates are dead,” she said with resignation, “so the sheriff won’t make any arrests because we have no proof. But let me make something perfectly clear. If Dallas dies, I inherit his land, and unless a blizzard blows through hell, you will never possess that property. So you gained nothing, and lost everything. Get your cattle off our land.”

She spun around.

“Cordelia!”

She staggered to a stop and slowly turned as her father’s voice reverberated around the room.

“You just accused your bothers of trying to commit murder.”

“No, Father. From this day forward, Cameron is the only brother I have. If you allow these two to remain in your home after what I have just told you, then I also have no father.”

“You’re as high-spirited and stubborn as your mother. I warned Leigh that he needed to keep a tight rein on you, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Dallas isn’t one to follow in other men’s footsteps. Giving him permission to marry me was the finest gift you could have ever given me.”

Dallas grew warmer with each passing hour. When he shivered, Cordelia didn’t dare bring the blankets up to cover him. Dr. Freeman had told her Dallas’s raw back needed air. Even if that weren’t true, she didn’t think he could have survived anything touching him.

Night had fallen by the time they returned from the McQueen spread. Houston had taken Amelia and the children home. Austin had ridden to town. Rawley slept soundly, not even stirring when she’d brushed the hair back from his brow.

She had taken up her vigil beside Dallas, placing her hand over his. Such a strong hand, with a gentle touch. Such a strong man, with a tender heart.

He would deny it, of course, but she had seen too much evidence not to recognize the truth. For all his gruffness, he had a heart as big as Texas.

She heard shuffling and turned to see Rawley standing in the doorway, his black hair sticking straight up on one side. She held out her hand. “Come sit with me.”

He hurried across the room and stopped just short of her reach. “I can’t, Miz Dee. I tricked you. He said he’d kill you if I didn’t. I didn’t know he was gonna hurt Mr. Leigh. Honest to God, I didn’t know. I won’t do what he says no more. I swear to God I’ll let him kill me before I do what he says.”

She reached out for him, and although he was resistant, she finally managed to work him into her embrace, onto her lap. She began to rock back and forth, her heart breaking for the life this child had endured.

“He won’t hurt you, Rawley,” she whispered, stroking her fingers through his hair. “He’s gone away. He’s gone to heaven.”

Rawley jerked back, studying her. “You mean he’s dead?”

She hadn’t wanted to put it so bluntly, and in all honesty, she didn’t think he had gone to heaven either. Although she didn’t think Rawley had any affections for the man, Cooper had been his father. “Someone killed him.”

“I’m glad,” Rawley said with vehemence. “I’m glad he’d dead so he can’t hurt nobody no more.”

She pressed his face against her breast and soon felt his warm tears soak through her clothing. She knew he needed to grieve. Even though his father had never loved him, he had still been Rawley’s father. Just as she needed to grieve for the family she had said farewell to that afternoon.

She had finally come to realize that with the exception of Cameron, she had never truly known their love, but still it hurt to say good-bye.

The heavy pounding on the door awoke Cordelia at dawn. She had put Rawley back in bed and returned to Dallas’s side, only to fall asleep in the chair. She placed her palm on his cheek. His fever had risen.

The pounding continued, and she wondered why Austin didn’t attend to it.

She rushed into the hallway and began her own pounding. “Austin, can you answer the door?” When he failed to respond, she opened his door. His bed was empty and looked as though he hadn’t slept in it. Had he come home?

She hurried down the stairs and flung open the door. Sheriff Larkin filled the doorway. She pushed her way past him. “Slim?”

The foreman turned from the group of men. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Send someone into town to fetch Dr. Freeman. Right away.” “Yes, ma’am.”

She turned to the sheriff. “I’m sorry, Sheriff. Did you need something?” “I need to talk to Austin.”

With her fingers, she brushed the stray strands from her face and tried to remember when she’d last taken a comb to her hair. Too long. “I don’t think he’s here,” she said as weariness settled in. “He went into town yesterday evening, but it doesn’t look as though his bed has been slept in so you might check the hotel.”

“I’ve already made inquiries around town. No one saw him yesterday evening. He didn’t check into the hotel.”

Alarm skittered along her spine. “He said he was going into town. Do you think he’s hurt?”

Beyond the sheriff’s shoulder, she saw Rawley shuffling out of the barn. “Rawley!” She motioned for him and he ran to the house.

“Rawley, have you seen Austin?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Not since I told him ’bout the man.”

Cordelia knelt in front of him. “What man?” “The man what paid my pa to kill Mr. Leigh.” Her heart started pounding. “Who would that be, boy?” Sheriff Larkin asked. Rawley didn’t take his eyes off Cordelia as he answered, “The man what hurt you.” “Boyd?”

“Don’t know his name. Pa always called him ‘my special friend.’ Only I never thought he was special at all.”

Cordelia agreed with Rawley’s assessment of her brother. He had not been special, only cruel.

“How do you know that he’s the one who paid your father to kill Mr. Leigh?” she asked.

“Pa told me that once he’d killed Mr. Leigh for my special friend, he was gonna give me to him for keeps.”

Imagining the terror that the child must have felt upon hearing his father’s words and the fate that might have awaited him had they not escaped, she drew him into her embrace.

“And you told this to Austin?” she whispered.

He nodded. “Said he’d take care of everything.”

She rose to her feet as the vague outline of a rider on a black horse emerged in the distance. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sheriff Larkin rest his hand on the butt of his gun. “There’s Austin.”

Austin brought his horse to a halt and dismounted, eyeing Sheriff Larkin warily. “What’s going on, Dee?”