Turner's Vision (27 page)

“You do?” Her husband eyed her suspiciously.

“Yes, we do. Would you be kind enough to hand me those papers now?” Beth held out her hand to her husband. Neil retrieved the requested documents from his case and placed them in her waiting palm. Beth handed them to Claudia. “I believe you know what to do with these, don’t you?”

Claudia smiled at the amiable woman, her hands closing over the formal papers of her husband’s requested divorce. “Yes, I think I do, Beth.”

Then she ripped them in two. She continued ripping until they were shreds in her lap.

“I give up.” Neil sank into the chair he’d occupied earlier. “Apparently you two have some unknown logic I couldn’t possibly begin to understand.”

“Oh, you poor dear.” Beth Cantrell perched herself on the arm of her husband’s chair, patting his hand soothingly. “It’s quite simple, really. Claudia is in love with Micah. And until he tells her he doesn’t feel the same, face to face, she will insist he keep his marriage vows.”

“What about his brother and Gibson? There’s every possibility they may decide to exact their revenge on her or one of her sons.”

“Micah wouldn’t allow that to happen.” Claudia explained confidently from her seat.

“I don’t believe he feels he’ll be able to prevent it,” Neil tried to explain one more time. “He was most adamant that this was the only way to protect you.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Cantrell—”

“Neil.”

“Neil. I intend to see that he protects me and our sons, but not here in Washington. If he wants to protect us, then he’ll have to do so on my terms. There were many promises that my husband made to me, besides the one to protect me. I intend to see that he keeps each and every one of them.”

“How?” He asked with a grimace.

“That, Neil, is where you will have an opportunity to help.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Micah followed Noah silently through the forest at the foothills of the Sierra Nevada range. He hoped they neared the end of their travels.

Due to the early spring snow and subsequent mudslides in the mountains, the train trip across country took more than five weeks to reach Stockton, California. Once there, Micah was surprised that Howard didn’t plan to travel on to San Francisco. Instead, he directed Micah to purchase a good horse, and headed them due west, back into the mountains they’d just crossed.

Noah’s silence regarding their destination ate at Micah’s nerves. He disliked being kept in the dark. He’d grown his beard back and switched into his buckskins at Howard’s request, yet the officer still refused to give him any clue as to his plans.

The extended trip did nothing to improve Micah’s disposition. It gave him too much idle time. He divided it between harassing Noah about Patrice’s whereabouts and trying not to think about Claudia and the boys.

Noah took his abuse in quiet patience, which only added to Micah’s anger and frustration. By the time they left the train, both men were brewing for a fight of some kind. So desperate were they for some decisive action, they nearly rode their horses into the ground the first day out of Stockton.

They picked their way through the undergrowth and trees, heading farther into the dense forest. Suddenly, just in front of them, a whippoorwill called out. Noah pulled up short, returning the call.

Micah squinted and scanned the trees before him, but couldn’t see any movement. Whoever watched them knew how to blend into their surroundings.

They continued until a clearing appeared in front of them. A large cabin, surrounded by several smaller buildings, sat centered in the clearing. Two men exited the cabin, walking toward Noah.

Micah sat still on his black stallion, watching the men approach. The tallest was at least his height. Despite the black robe and white collar of his clothes, he carried his bulk with the ease of an outdoorsman.

The smaller man was just as unusual and yet he’d seen him once before. An elderly Chinaman, dressed in a long tunic of many colors and with a flowing white beard, as small as the other man was tall, held his head with pride equal to his companion.

Noah greeted each man. He shook hands with the priest and bowed to the Chinaman. Turning to Micah, he signaled him to come forward. Micah walked the large horse up to the two men, then slid off the beast to stand before them.

“Micah Turner, this is Father Jake Murphy.” Noah indicated the large priest. “You may know him as Montana Murphy.”

“The mountain man?” Micah couldn’t hide his surprise or his respect. “They say you’re dead.”

“Only dead to the old ways, my son.” The Irishman smiled broadly, shaking Micah’s hand vigorously. “I spend my time helping those in need, now.”

“And this is Chin Lee.” Noah bowed to the Chinaman again.

“Mr. Lee.” Micah followed Noah’s example, trying not to stare. He always felt uncomfortable when his visions became real.

“I have been expecting you, Mr. Turner.” The elderly man returned the bow in greeting. His wizened eyes met Micah’s boldly.

“You knew I was coming.”

“I have seen a yellow giant riding a black beast. This giant comes to mete out revenge on the evil ones. You are that giant.” He turned toward the cabin, leaving the three men to stare after him. “Come, what you both seek is here.”

They entered the cabin to find three women seated at the table. Two wore the black robes of their order and were introduced as Martha and Mary, sisters of the Holy Cross. The third was an oriental girl about sixteen years old. Noah introduced her as his half-sister, Lin Howard. Micah tried not to show his surprise at the relationship between Noah and the girl, bowing in greeting as he had to the Chinaman outside.

Then his attention was drawn to a fourth woman seated in the corner, her blonde head bowed in shame.

“Patrice.” Micah called her name softly as he slowly approached her.

“Micah, go home.” She continued to stare at her hands folded in her lap.

“Patrice, I can’t. I came to help you.” He moved closer.

“Go home, Micah. I don’t need your help.” Her head remained bowed.

“Little sister, you do need my help.” He stood in front of her now.

“No, don’t you see?” She lifted hollow grey eyes to meet his. “No one can help me now.”

Micah dropped to his knees and took her hands in his. “I have to be here, Patrice. I need your forgiveness.”

“Micah, it’s you who needs to forgive me. The things that happened…”

“Don’t torture yourself.” He cut her off. “You have nothing to be forgiven for. It’s I who need your forgiveness. I should never have left you in their evil hands. I should’ve come for you years ago.” His tears spilled down onto her hands.

“Oh, big brother, you left me where you thought me safe. If it’s forgiveness for not coming home sooner you seek—then I forgive you. Now leave and allow me to live my life alone, in my own shame.”

“He can’t leave, Patrice.” Noah said in a flat voice, walking over to stand next to Micah. “He needs to be here.”

“Why?” Her quiet voice shook in dread of what she was about to hear.

“Stephen is coming.”

Noah barely got the words out.

Micah bellowed his rage. Grabbing him by the shirtfront, he threw the younger man across the room. He grabbed him again and dragged him out the door of the cabin, systematically connecting his fist with the smaller man’s face. Father Jake pulled Micah off of his target, momentarily allowing Noah to regain his balance.

Micah broke free, intending to finish the job he’d started, only to meet Noah’s right hook with his own jaw. He reeled backward a step or two. The metal taste of blood covered his tongue from his split lip. He swiped at the blood and smiled a thin humorless smile in anticipation.

Charging, he caught Noah around the midsection, lifting him up and slamming him into the nearest tree. Noah rammed his doubled fists down onto Micah’s back, obtaining his own release. Then he brought his knee up into Micah’s stomach.

He reeled backward, trying to regain his breath. Noah’s fist again connected with his jaw, but this time, Micah countered with his own left uppercut.

Ignoring the screams of the frightened women, Patrice in particular, they continued to exchange punches, until they could physically stand no longer. Exhausted, they fell into a bloody, bruised heap at the feet of the good Father and Mr. Lee. Father Jake grabbed a bucket from the well, dousing them with cold water, in hopes of bringing them to their senses.

“If you two have gotten that little tussle out of your systems now, it’s plans we need to be making.” Turning, he and Mr. Lee led the ladies back into the cabin, chuckling at the antics of the two young bucks.

Micah sat rubbing his jaw and staring at Noah. He realized the younger man gave as good as he received. Despite the circumstances, he felt better than he had in weeks. Physical pain was easier than enduring the emotional pain he’d been under since he left Claudia and the boys back east.

“She needed to know, Turner.”

“You could’ve been less blunt, Howard.” He stood on wobbly legs, waiting for his balance to return.

“There will only be honesty between her and me. She has enough things to face in the months ahead. To get through them, she needs all the honesty she can handle.” Noah leaned over the water trough, dunked his head underneath, swinging it back out again.

Taking out a kerchief, he mopped at the dirt and blood on his face.

Micah sat down on the rail next to Noah. He wetted down his own kerchief and began cleaning up his wounds. “Tell me about this place and your people.”

“Chin Lee is the grandfather of my half sister, Lin and half brother, Sung. After my father brought them and their mother back to San Francisco, I went to live with them for a time. A few years later, I struck out on my own. That’s when I met Father Jake, who was still Montana Murphy at the time. He taught me about tracking, fighting and hunting. Mostly fighting.” Noah let out a rare laugh.

“Then I went east to join the army. Even though it was the last year of the war, I served as a scout. Not long after that, Colonel Duncan was reinstated in the army, and I went to serve with him in the Indian country. During that time, Montana found his religion and dropped out of sight, only to reappear as Father Jake. The sisters joined him sometime soon after that.

“I met up with him on one of my assignments. He’d established this mission to help the bands of Indians displaced by the immigration of settlers westward. Surrounding us right now are two men whose families he helped, Waiska and Taima.” He chuckled as Micah looked out into the forest. “Don’t try to find them. You won’t see them until they want you to.”

“Why are they here?”

“Guarding Patrice was repayment of a great debt they owed Father Murphy. My brother Sung is out there also. They’ll spell each other for a meal later today. In the meantime, I think it’s time you were filled in on our plans for your brother.”

The two men hobbled back into the cabin. They were served a strong smelling dish of stew and cornbread. As he ate, Micah watched Patrice from the corner of his eye. She refused to look directly at anyone, concentrating instead on the sewing in her lap.

How could he bring back the vivacious girl he’d left behind fifteen years before? Was there anything left of her in the shell of the woman before him?

He chanced a glance at Noah. The younger man also watched the pale blonde woman. Pity showed on his face, but he steeled his look when he found Micah watching him. He turned his attention to his meal, preventing anyone from seeing his feelings.

Was there something more Howard felt toward his sister? Did she know?

“Things are set up as you asked, Noah, me lad.” Father Jake sat across from the two battered warriors. “Your brother, Sung has planted his surprises throughout the forest. Taima and Waiska have set traps at several weak spots in our defenses. When trouble comes, we will be ready.”

“What surprises has your brother set up?” Micah pushed his empty plate to the side, watching Noah finish a second helping.

“Have you ever heard of Chinese fireworks?”

“Yes.”

“Sung placed them around the perimeter of this clearing. Be sure to stay on the inside when they go off. Taima and Waiska are arranging pits and arrow traps where we think they will attack first. Once we hear the screams of our enemy, then Sung and Chin will fire up the rockets. That could equal out our chances.”

“What if they get through your defenses?”

“Then you will meet them man to man.” Mr. Lee joined them at the table. “Once they are inside this circle, you will fulfill your destiny, Micah. The outcome is known to you as it is to me. You must be prepared for what is to come and not question what you know to be inevitable.”

Flashes of fire and smoke rose in front of him, Stephen and Patrice, blood.

“How long do you think it will be before they find us?” Micah shook his head, trying not to let the vision become too real. He needed to save his anger for what lay ahead.

“My best guess is that they could be here tomorrow.” Noah sat back on his bench. “They had a full week’s head start on us. Given the extra time it took us to travel here, they’ve had more than ample time to discover our whereabouts.”

“Then,” Micah stood up from the table, “you’d best show me where I can sleep.”

* * * * *    

Blood ran from his fingertips. He smelled the fear all around him. Stephen rose in front of him, pointing his weapon at the blonde woman next to him. Patrice’s scream froze on her face. Micah flew at them, his own scream breaking the night’s silence.

Micah sat up in his bed, sweat pouring over his body. The sound of his own terror rang in his ears. He was surrounded by the night. Had he screamed out loud? Only the crickets and frogs in their nightly serenade greeted his ears.

Damn, he hated this
. He hated losing control. His dreams controlled him and there was nothing he could do to stop them or alter their outcome.

Rising from his bedroll, he walked over to where his sister lay. He expected to find her fast asleep. Grey eyes met grey eyes.

“Are you okay?” Her voice was flat.