Stained Snow (6 page)

He jumped down from the saddle in time to wrap an arm around her. Something didn’t feel right about Thomas being here, but she was too happy to see him to care much. She wrapped both arms around him, holding him close. “I didn’t think you were coming back yet. What are you doing here?”

He brought his hands up to her face. “I had to see you. I can’t stay long.”

She took a more careful look at him. “You look tired, Thomas. What’s the matter?”

“I’ve been on the trail a couple days.”

“You need some rest. Your horse does, too.”

He shook his head. “I don’t have time to rest. I wanted to stop and see you before I rode on.”

The hope she’d felt when she saw him fell now. He still wasn’t staying. She doubted she’d be able to change his mind this time either, but she could try. Her hand slipped into his. “Why don’t you at least come into the house? I can put something together for you to eat and turn your horse out into the corral. It will give both of you a chance to rest.”

“I’ll turn him out.” Thomas stepped away from her. “You can get that food started.”

She watched him lead the horse away then turned back to the house. She slid the bread she prepared over the fire then turned to what she still had left from breakfast. There was some bread going hard, the reason she made fresh this morning. The eggs were gone until she collected more. There were still some slices of bacon and some potatoes she’d fried up that morning. She threw it all onto a plate for him and poured a cup of the coffee that stayed heated over the fire. Still she fretted it wasn’t enough.

Thomas walked in and sat right at the table, shoveling the food into his mouth. It was fine. She didn’t know why she worried so much. He obviously wasn’t worried about her impressing him. Why did she? She sat next to him instead of dwelling on that. “Are you going to tell me what happened, Thomas?”

“Did,” he said around a mouthful of bread. “Been on the trail. Riding hard.”

She’d been able to tell that from his horse. “Why are you riding so hard? What happened?”

He reached over and took her hand in his. “I told you about the man who hates me.”

“You said he took your family and your ranch from you. Wasn’t that enough?”

“Obviously not. He’s twisted it all around so I’m the bad guy. That I took something from him.” He cut his gaze away to the table. Stabbed another potato. “He’s after me now. I can’t stay. I won’t bring that kind of trouble to you.”

Tears gathered in her eyes, and she turned to him, taking his face in her hands. “You shouldn’t have to run because of something he did.” She brushed her lips across his. “We have some time at least, don’t we?”

He set his fork down. “Of course we do.” He got up from the table and pulled her up beside him. “I needed to see you. I had to touch you again, Maggie. I don’t know if I’ll be back this time.”

“Please try,” she whispered, her lips coming up to meet his again.

He moved his hands up into her hair. "If he ever leaves me be, I'll come back for you."

It felt wrong, like a lie. She couldn't tell why and didn't care right now. He was here and was leading her back to her bedroom, and that was all that mattered.

Later, spent and yet unsatisfied, she lay under him, tracing the lines of his chest. Her fingers brushed over some scratches, and he tensed. "What happened?"

She didn't think he would answer at first. "Got in a tangle with a tree," he finally said, but he was already pulling away.

Cold washed over her suddenly, but she couldn't explain why. He pulled his pants back on, and she realized something was missing. "Where's your belt?"

The color drained from his face, and his hands stilled on the top button of his trousers. He mumbled something she couldn't make out then reached for his boots.

Tears already fell from her eyes. He turned back then stepped up to her wiping the wetness from her cheek. “Don’t cry, Anna.”

She jerked and stepped back from him. “What did you call me?”

His eyes narrowed, and she saw the hint of darkness again. It nearly made her shudder then her Thomas was back. “Maggie. That’s your name.”

She shook her head. “That’s not the name you said. You said Anna. You called me Anna. Who is Anna?”

He turned away from her. “You’re being ridiculous. You misheard me.”

“No, I didn’t, Thomas. The two names sound nothing alike.”

He turned back toward her, his hand coming up at the same time. Something heavy dropped into her stomach, and she took a step back. “Drop it, Maggie.” He grabbed his hat from the chair. “I have to go. I told you I couldn’t stay.”

She shivered at the chill in his voice. He’d been warm moments ago. She hugged her arms around herself until he stepped up to her again. He brushed her hair away from her face as if nothing had happened. “I’ll see you again. I don’t know when, but I’ll see you again.”

She nodded then let him go. He wouldn’t stay. He would never stay. She needed to get used to that. She watched as he caught his horse in the corral and mounted again. She should turn away. It only hurt more when she watched him ride away.

She still stood there as he blurred through her tears then finally disappeared.

#

Thomas glanced back toward the house as he rode off. Maggie still stood in the doorway. He closed his eyes until he felt steady again. Then, he turned away. He hadn’t lied. He didn’t want to bring William down on her. He couldn’t care much less about her father or any of the hands working on the ranch. In the time he’d been here, none of them had shown him any respect. William could kill all of them as far as he cared. In fact, he wouldn’t mind at all to be rid of them. Maggie…Maggie was different.

Had he really called her Anna?

Ridiculous. Anna was dead. He hadn’t meant to kill her. She was supposed to go with him. If she hadn’t fought so much, he wouldn’t have reacted that way. He’d only wanted her to stop fighting.

He skirted around the area where George rounded up cattle with his men. It would be better if he didn’t even know he’d been up here. Maggie might tell him, but by that time he should be long gone.

He’d left his belt with Anna. Maggie noticed. Why had she had to notice? Now, he really shouldn’t return. Even if he ever did get William to stop hunting him.

It would happen now. He didn’t care. He’d wanted that showdown when he went for Anna. He’d been cheated out of it. Now, he hoped his brother did find him. He could kill him and be done with this for good. He wouldn’t make it easy for him. Make him suffer first while he tried to track him down.

He glanced back again, but the ranch was out of sight. He had to leave all that behind him. It would be better that way.

He didn’t want to bring it to Maggie. He would stay away until it was over. He’d needed to see her one more time. Judging by the way she looked at him, it might be the last time. At least until he convinced her she had been wrong about everything she had assumed. That shouldn’t be too difficult. She’d proved to be malleable so far. Much more than Anna ever had been.

He wondered if his brother had found his wife and son yet. He almost wished he could see his face when he did. He’d gone there planning to kill his brother. This would be over, and William wouldn’t have suffered the way Thomas had for almost a decade.

Only fair it happen this way.

He urged his horse into a trot and turned toward one of the nearby towns. He would treat himself to a drink before he sought out a job to get him through the next weeks. He had people waiting to contact him if William came this way. A lot more than what his brother would have in hunting him.

Chapter 8

Lander, Wyoming Territory

May 12, 1887

William rode into town, weary from the trip that had taken longer than he’d first figured, even though there hadn’t been more delays since leaving the fort. Right now the one thing on his mind was getting home and having a good meal and some sleep in his own bed. The town lay between him and the ranch. He needed to check in with the sheriff and let him know the job was done before he headed there.

He stopped his horse in front of the sheriff’s office and slid down from the saddle. He’d broken camp as soon as the sun rose this morning, not even taking time to make himself some coffee or breakfast. Now, he could use a bit of both.

He walked up the steps and pushed the door open. Carl’s head came up at the squeak of the door’s hinges. The sheriff smiled. Tight lines dug into his face, and William could tell he forced it. “Will. I expected you yesterday.”

William tried to set aside his own questions about what had put that look on the sheriff’s face. “I expected to be back yesterday. Ran into some trouble on the way there. Next time you ask me to escort a prisoner, remind me to say no.”

Carl laughed and it made William bristle. He hadn’t meant it as much of a joke. “Did he give you that much trouble, Will?” Carl asked when his laughter trailed off.

William stepped up to the desk and lifted the coffee pot, trying to figure out what was going on with the sheriff. Liquid still sloshed in there, so he grabbed a cup and poured himself some coffee. He sank into a chair across the desk then recounted the prisoner’s escape attempts.

“We got caught in that damn storm. It took me an extra day to get him there. The commander wanted me to stay for the trial, but I declined. Bad enough he convinced me to stay overnight instead of turning right around. I got him there. He’ll pay his judgment. I have no desire to see him do it.”

Carl shook his head. “Most would. I know,” he added, holding up his hand before William could speak, “you’re not most.” He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “Good. At least that’s done now. He’s off our hands.” He looked back up at William. “You didn’t run into anyone else on the trail?”

William shook his head. “No, not really. A couple travelers passed by, but that’s usual. What’s the problem, Sheriff?”

Carl dropped his gaze to his desk, shuffling some papers. “There’s been some trouble, Will. Some bad trouble. I tried sending you a telegram at the fort, but they said you’d already left.”

William let out a frustrated breath. Why would he need to send a telegram over something that happened in town?
Thomas.
No, that couldn’t be it. The sheriff would have told him if his brother had been spotted.

“I’m sure you want help with it, Sheriff. I really want to see my family. It’s been almost a week. Can it wait until I’ve had some time with them?”

The distress returned to the sheriff’s face, and William’s unease transformed to dread. What had happened? What could it have to do with his family? A buzzing in his head nearly blocked out what the sheriff said next. “At your ranch,” was all he caught as he shook the buzzing from his head and tuned back in to the sheriff.

“What was that? What happened at the ranch?”

“It was in the telegram, but you didn’t get that.” The sheriff looked away and took a deep breath before turning back. “Your house and barn burned to the ground.”

He wasn’t sure he could drag in a full breath. “What about Anna? David? Did they make it out?”

“They weren’t in the house.” William had slumped back in the chair, when Carl added, “Anna was laying in the yard when Patrick and the other men got there. It looked like someone tried to abduct her, and she fought to get away.”

The breath caught in his throat again. “Did she-”

Carl shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Will. She was strangled, already dead when Patrick got there.”

His heart stopped beating, he was sure of it. That could be the only reason he felt so dead inside. “And David?”

Carl ran a hand over his face. “He was shot in the back and left for dead. Patrick brought him in to Doc. I don’t…” He let out a breath. “He’s hanging on. The doc thinks he has a chance, but it’s pretty slim. You’ll have to talk to him. You should go to your boy, Will.”

“Where’s my wife?”

“I told you, Will. She’s dead.”

He shook his head. “Where is she? I need to see her.”

The sheriff sighed. “She’s laid out at the undertaker’s. Patrick didn’t want to do the burial before you were back.”

“Did you send a telegram to her father?” How could he sound so calm when he was raging inside?

“After we heard you were already on your way back. They’ll be here in another day or two.”

He stepped outside with the sheriff. He barely even remembered getting out of the chair or walking to the door. He shook his head a little, trying to bring everything into focus.

“What did David say?” he made himself ask. “Has he been able to tell you anything?”

“Just a man came to the house and hurt his Ma. She told him to run. He wanted to stay and protect her, but she told him to go so he did. That’s the last thing he remembered. He must not have wanted him to get away.”

A scream built in his chest, but he fought it back. He was just a boy. What would it have mattered for him to get away? “He didn’t know who it was?” Everything blurred around him as he kept his gaze focused on the undertaker’s office. He did see people step out of his way and avert their eyes. This couldn’t be happening. Not any of it.