Dangerous Men (Flynn Family Saga Book 2) (4 page)

Flynn settled down on a crate next to
the bed.  “Once upon a time, there was a beautiful red-haired princess...”

Lulled by the sound of his voice,
Maggie drifted into sleep.

*  *  *

Flynn watched Maggie as she slept. 
Her skin was pale and hot to the touch.  She cried out in her sleep, “Papa! 
No!”

“It’s all right, Magpie.  It’s all
right.”  Flynn smoothed her damp hair back from her forehead.

Maggie didn’t seem to hear him. 
Her head thrashed back and forth.  Her breathing grew shallow and rapid.

“Major!”  Flynn stood up and went
to the rear opening of the wagon.

Sam rode up to the wagon and poked
his head in.  “How is she, Flynn?”

Flynn looked away.  “Bad.”

Sam sighed.  He halted the wagons
and climbed into the one where Maggie lay, fighting for her life.  He took off
his hat and sat beside her cot.  “Come on, Magpie.  I know you can make it. 
You’re strong and brave.  You fought for your Mama and Papa.  Now, it’s time to
fight for yourself.”

Maggie’s eyes opened, filled with
tears.  “But I lost, Major.  They died anyway.”

Flynn stood up and left the wagon. 
He heard the rumble of Sam’s voice as he soothed Maggie back into sleep.  Then,
he heard the wagon creak as Sam climbed out.

Sam laid a hand on Flynn’s
shoulder.  “She’s asking for you, son.”

Flynn’s throat tightened.  “I can’t,
Sam.  I can’t go back in there.”

“Why not?”

Flynn turned and faced his friend. 
“I buried too many people.”

Sam’s hand tightened gently on his
shoulder.  “We all did, son.”

Flynn touched the notebook in his
pocket.  “Almost three thousand.”

“What?”

Flynn looked away from Sam’s blue
gaze.  “That’s how many men I buried in Elmira.  Almost three thousand.”

Sam’s breath caught, and his hand
left Flynn’s shoulder.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t know.”  He was silent a long
time.  “Maggie buried her parents in two graves by the side of the trail.  And
then she nursed over fifty people through cholera, including you.  You can’t
let a mere slip of a girl beat you, can you, Flynn?”

Flynn laughed.  “No one would call
Maggie a mere slip of a girl.”

Sam grinned at him.  “No, I guess
they wouldn’t.”  His grin faded.  “She needs you, son.  She might not make it
without you.”

Flynn shut his eyes.  He saw Jennie’s
face, bruised and bloodied, like Ellie Lonnegan.  The thought of watching
Maggie die was almost more than he could bear.

“She might make it, Flynn. 
Especially if she had people who loved her around her.  She pulled you back
from death more times than I could count when you had cholera, just holding
your hand and talking to you, quiet and soft, like she was gentling a horse.”

Flynn’s breath caught.  He shut his
eyes.  He saw the way his mother looked at Pathfinder, the same way Maggie
looked at him sometimes, with love and pride and a happiness he had never
known.

And he wanted that.  He wanted it
more than he wanted to be safe.  He drew a deep breath and climbed into the
wagon.  He took off his hat and sat beside Maggie’s bed.  He took her hand.

It was hot and dry and her pulse
raced like a jack rabbit being chased by a coyote.

“Sam!”

Sam climbed into the wagon.  “What
is it, Flynn?”

“Stay with her, Sam.  There’s
something I need to find.”

“Another one of your herbal
remedies?”

Flynn nodded.

Sam sighed.  “Well, it saved Tommy
Lonnegan’s life.  All right, Flynn.”

“Thank you, Sam.”  Flynn ran from
the wagon and saddled Horatio.  He leaped into the saddle and rode hard. 
Finally, he found what he was looking for, a small succulent that looked more
like a toadstool than a cactus.  He cut it, piercing his hand with one of the
spines.  He grimaced and sucked the  wound.  Then, he mounted Horatio and rode
back toward the train.

Flynn reached the wagon train just
as the sun set.  They had already circled up, and he smelled roasting meat and
coffee.  He smiled.

Then, he heard Maggie scream.

Flynn kicked Horatio into a
gallop.  He leaped from the horse’s back and knelt beside Frank’s cook fire.

“Flynn, what do you think you’re
doing?”

Flynn dumped out the coffee pot. 
He put fresh water into it and cut the cactus into small pieces.  A terrible
stench rose up from the water.

“Flynn, what in tarnation—?”  Sam
strode toward him.

Flynn ignored the Major.  He waited
until the liquid was the right color.  Then, he poured a mugful.  He ran to Sam’s
wagon and climbed inside.

Maggie flailed at her leg.

Flynn set the mug down on the crate
beside her cot and took her hands.

They were terribly almost too hot
to touch.

He swallowed hard and used the tone
of voice he had learned in Lewisburg Academy.  “No, Maggie.”

Maggie opened her eyes.  “Flynn?”

Flynn nodded.  He held out the
steaming mug.

Maggie sniffed it and wrinkled her
nose.  “What died?.”

Flynn laughed.  In spite of
everything, he laughed.  Then, he sobered.  “Please, Magpie.”  He held the mug
to her lips.  “Drink it.”

Maggie took a sip and made a face. 
“It tastes as awful as it smells.”

“I know, Magpie.  But it may save
your life.  Now drink it.”

Maggie nodded and finished the
whole mug.

Flynn smiled at her.  “Good girl.”

Maggie sighed and shut her eyes.  “It
tastes so bad, it has to be good for me.”

Flynn laughed shortly.

Maggie lay back.  Her body relaxed.

Flynn watched Maggie sleep.  When
she woke, he made her another cup of foul-smelling brew and carried it into the
wagon.  Maggie turned her face away and shook her head.  Flynn put his arms
around her shoulders and lifted her a little.  He held the mug to her mouth.

“No,” she whimpered.  Her skin was
hot and dry again.

Flynn shut his eyes again.  He
opened them and pressed the rim of the mug against her pale lips.  “Drink it,
Maggie.  Please.  Do it for me.”

Maggie’s eyes opened.  She looked
straight into his eyes.  “Flynn?”

He nodded.  His throat felt as if
he had swallowed a clod of Nebraska mud.

She raised her head and drank a
little of the tea.

“All of it, Magpie.”

Tears slid down her cheeks, but she
nodded again and drank it.

Flynn eased her down.  He held her
hand in his.  “There’s a dream I have sometimes, about a white house on top of
a hill.  The valley is green, and there’s a brook at the foot of the hill.  And
children, Maggie.”  His voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat.  “And
maybe, someday, I’ll find that valley and build that house.  Maybe, someday, I’ll
have the courage to love again.”

Maggie sighed and her breathing
became easier.

Flynn’s eyes burned with tears.  He
leaned forward, but he stopped himself just before his lips brushed her
forehead.  He sighed and climbed forward into the seat beside Frank.

Frank glanced at him and looked
back at the trail.  “How is she?”

“Sleeping.”

“Is that a good thing?”

Flynn hesitated.  “We’ll know when
she wakes up.”

Frank’s hand tightened briefly on
Flynn’s arm.  “You came back.  That will help her more than the stuff you used
to ruin my last coffee pot.”

Flynn laughed.  “I’ll tell you
what, Frank.  If she makes it, I’ll buy you a new coffee pot.”

“If she makes it, I’ll buy you a
new horse, son.”  Sam rode up to the wagon.  “How is she?”

Flynn shrugged.  “I’ve done what I
can.  The rest is up to her.”

“And the Almighty,” Sam said
solemnly.

Flynn looked away.  Maggie cried
out in her sleep, and he climbed back inside the wagon.  He took her hand again. 
“Once—”  His voice broke.  He cleared his throat and tried again.  “Once upon a
time, there was a beautiful red-haired princess.  An evil serpent stung her,
and she fell into an enchanted sleep.  A knight came to the castle where she
slept.  An old woman met him at the gate and would not let him enter until he
had found the serpent and killed it.  And so the knight rode out for many days
and many nights until he found the serpent drowsing in the sun.  He drew his
knife and fought the serpent until the sun set.  But the night was cold,
slowing the serpent, and the knight was able to cut off its head.  He rode back
to the castle and claimed his princess.  The old woman turned into a fairy
godmother, and with her blessing, they lived happily ever after."

Maggie smiled in her sleep and
sighed.  Her hand relaxed in his, and her breathing grew easier.  Flynn leaned
his head against a crate and shut his eyes.  He hadn’t prayed in years, but he
prayed with all of his might that his red-haired princess would live.

CHAPTER
FOUR

Maggie dreamed strange dreams.  She
dreamed of an Indian woman with jet-black hair who smiled at her and then
turned into a buffalo.  She dreamed of the white house on the hill.  The breeze
on the top of the hill was cool and fresh.  Flynn sat beside her and held her
hand.  He told her about a prince who traveled the land in search of a cure for
his princess.  He brought it to her in a golden goblet, and when she drank it,
the spell was broken.  She tried to kiss him, but a woman stood between them. 
Her eyes were brown and she had golden hair, like Maggie’s mother.  She smiled
at Flynn, and he let go of Maggie’s hand.  He stood up and went to her.  He put
his arm around the woman’s waist, and they walked away from Maggie without
looking back.

“No!”  Maggie sat up with her heart
pounding.

Flynn sat next to the bed.  There
were dark circles under his eyes.  “Are you all right?”

Maggie looked away and nodded.  “It
was just a dream.”

“About your parents?”

Maggie shook her head.  “It
was...weird.”

Flynn laughed gently.  “Snakebite
will do that to you.  How is your leg?”

“It still hurts a little.”

He nodded and unwrapped the
bandage.  There was a black mark where the snake had bitten her, but the rest
of her leg was a healthy pink.

She felt as if her illness had
stripped her of all her carefully built defenses.  She felt small and young and
vulnerable.  The feelings frightened her.  “Thank you for saving my life.”  Her
voice shook slightly.

He shrugged.  “Now we’re even.”

Maggie drew a deep breath, drew on
the false bravado that had kept her safe in a room over a saloon.  “Even?  Not
even close.  I saved your life when you had cholera, and I found you when you
were dying of thirst.”

Flynn turned back to her.  Slowly,
he grinned.  “Yeah, but I saved you from freezing to death on the way back from
Lawrenceville.”

Maggie tilted her chin up.  “I’ll
have you know that I was fine, Mr. Flynn.  I’m sure you only wanted to take
advantage of
my
body heat because
you
were cold.”

“I’m never cold.”

“Oh yeah?  Your hands were so cold
when you bandaged me that—”

Flynn’s laughter cut her off.  He
sobered swiftly.  “Welcome back, Magpie.”

Maggie nodded shyly.  “Thanks,
Flynn.”

Flynn smiled at her, and for a
moment, she let herself hope that he loved her.  Then, he looked away.  “Get
some rest."

“Yes, Flynn.”  She sighed and slid
into a deep and natural sleep

*  *  *

When Maggie woke up again, the sun
had set.  Flynn helped her out of the wagon.  Frank looked up from the pot he
was stirring.  Tears shone in his black eyes.  He blew his nose noisily.  “Hello,
Magpie.”

Maggie limped over to him.  She
hugged him hard.  “Hello, Frank.  Is there anything to eat?  I’m hungry.”

Frank laughed and tousled her
hair.  “You’re always hungry.”

Maggie laughed with him.

One by one, the men gathered by the
fire.  Ben squeezed her shoulder.  “Hello, Magpie.  We missed you.”

Maggie shook her head.  “Nonsense. 
You’re just relieved because now you don’t have to do Flynn’s job
and
your own.”

Ben laughed.

“Maggie.”

Maggie turned.  Sam stood behind
her.  He looked solemn.  She licked her lips.  Her heart pounded in fear.  “I’m
sorry, major.”

“For what?”

Maggie looked down at her worn
boots.  “For chasing off after Flynn.”

“Oh, Magpie.”  Sam touched her hair
gently.  “I was just afraid we were going to lose you, that’s all.”

Maggie nodded, too moved to speak.

Sam turned to Flynn.  “Maybe now
you can stop loafing and start doing your job.”

“Loafing?  Major, if it wasn’t for
me, Maggie would be dead!”

“If it wasn’t for you, she never
would have been bitten by that snake in the first place.  Besides, you probably
kept her drugged up on some herb or something so you didn’t have to go back to
work.”  Sam scowled at him, but he winked at Maggie.

“If you think for one minute that I’d
rather nurse a kid through a little thing like snakebite than look for water in
the desert, you’ve been eating too much of Frank’s cooking.”  Flynn set his
hands on his hips.  He, too, winked at Maggie to let her know that he wasn’t
really angry.

Maggie sat on a crate and listened
as Sam denigrated Flynn’s work and Flynn defended himself.  She sipped Frank’s
bad coffee and sighed contentedly.

When they reached Fort Laramie,
Joshua Landon, Tommy's uncle was waiting for them.  Tommy ran to his uncle. 
The tall man with the thick black beard put his arms around his nephew.  Tommy
started to sob.

Maggie turned away.  She had buried
so many people: her grandparents, her parents, the people who died of cholera. 
Sometimes, she was afraid that if she started to cry, she would never stop.

*  *  *

Two months later, they reached Lake
Tahoe.  The wagon train arrived at sunset, and the lake looked like molten
gold.  Maggie’s breath caught.

Flynn rode beside Maggie’s wagon,
as he had most days, when he wasn’t scouting.  He grinned at her.  “I never
thought I’d live to see the day you were speechless.”

Maggie took off her hat and slapped
his arm with it.  “Oh, you!”

Laughing, Flynn rode to the front
of the line.

They spent a week getting the
wagons into shape for the long, steep climb up Mount Doloroso.  Sometimes, the
lake was the color of sapphires.  Once, when clouds covered the sky, it looked
like a sheet of silver.  But on the last day, the wind ruffled it, and sunlight
sparked across the surface.

“Like diamonds,” Maggie whispered.

Finally, the wagons began to climb
the trail to the pass.  The going was steep, and the trail was slick with a
thin dusting of snow.  But one by one, the wagons made it to the top.

Maggie stood at the top of the pass
and stared down at the Sacramento Valley.  The rich, green bowl spread out as
far as she could see.  “It’s beautiful!”

Beside her, Sam nodded.  “It hits
me like that every year.”

When they reached the valley
safely, Sam called a meeting.  Maggie looked around at the faces of the men and
women she had come to know and love over the past seven months.

Sam cleared his throat.  “Well,
folks, this is the end of the trail.  Every crossing is different.  This one
was harder than most.  But I’m proud of you, each and every one of you.”

“He gives the same speech every
year,” Frank whispered.

“Hush,” Maggie whispered.  “Haven’t
heard it before.”

After the speech, there was music
and dancing.

Maggie stood and watched the
couples dance.  The band began to play a waltz.  Flynn walked over to Sally
Prentice and held out his hand.  Smiling, Sally took his hand, and he led her
into the circle.

Maggie turned and ran to the picket
line.  She buried her face in Patches’ warm flank and cried.  She heard
footsteps and turned.

Sam stood behind her.  “I’m sorry,
Magpie.”  He let her cry a little while, and then he took out his
handkerchief.  Maggie dried her eyes and handed it back.  Sam sighed.  “Maggie,
I remember what it feels like to love someone who doesn’t love you back.”

“You?”

Sam laughed.  “I know you think I’m
handsome, Magpie, but most women don’t.”  He sobered.  “Don’t you dare tell
her, but I’ve been in love with Kate Hamilton since the day I first saw her.”

“And she doesn’t love you back?”

Sam sighed.  “I don’t know,
Maggie.  For all I know, her husband is still alive, and I won’t court another
man’s wife.”

Maggie turned to him.  “Sometimes,
I think he cares about me, and then he goes away.”  She shut her eyes.  “He
always goes away.”

“Yes, Maggie.  He does.”

She opened her eyes and stared at
Sam.

Sam turned and looked toward the
center of the circle.  He sighed.  “It’s nothing personal, Maggie.  A couple of
times, I thought he’d met the right girl, but he always left them.  It’s as if
he’s afraid of getting too close to any woman.”

Maggie nodded.  “Major, do you know
who Jennie is?”

Sam shook his head.  “But he used
to call out her name in Camp Sumter.  Why?”

Maggie turned away.  “I think he’s
still in love with her.”

Sam was silent a long time.  “You
may be right, Maggie.  Now.  Dry your eyes.”  He handed her his handkerchief.

Maggie wiped her eyes.

Sam put his arm around her
shoulders.  “Come on.  I’ll dance with you.”

Maggie smiled and let him lead her
back to the dancing.  They danced a reel.  Maggie had no idea what she was
doing, but her partners saw to it that she ended up in the right place at the
right time.  By the time the dance ended, Maggie was laughing.

Sam wiped his red face and tried to
catch his breath.  “I hope the next dance is slower.”

The next dance was a waltz, and
Flynn danced with Sally again.

Maggie’s heart felt as if someone
had hit it with a hammer.  She turned and ran back to the picket line.  Her
hands shook as she took the brush from her saddlebags and started to groom
Patches.

“Maggie?”

She turned.

Flynn stood behind her.  He looked
unsure of himself.

She put her hands on her hips.  “You’ve
got to stop—”

“Sneaking up on people.”  He
grinned briefly.  “Why aren’t you dancing?”

Maggie opened her mouth and shut it
without speaking.  The fiddler started to play another waltz, and Maggie looked
away to hide the tears that blurred her vision.

“Mary Margaret O’Brien, may I have
the honor of this dance?”  Flynn's voice was husky with emotion.

She turned.  Flynn held out his
arm.  There was no hint of mockery in his eyes.  Unable to speak, Maggie laid
her hand on his arm.

Flynn led her away from the horses
to a place where the ground was firm and level.  He put his arm around her
waist, and she put her hand on his shoulder.

And Maggie stepped on his foot. 
Her face felt hot with embarrassment.

Flynn merely grinned at her.  “So
there’s something you can’t do.”

“I can’t make coffee,” she said
breathlessly.  “Or cook.”  She found it hard to think with his arm around her
waist.

His grin broadened.  “
One
two three. 
One
two three.”

Maggie kept stumbling and stepping
on his feet.  Then, she remembered the day her grandfather taught her how to
ride. 
Relax into the rhythm of the horse
.  Maggie shut her eyes and
suddenly, it was easy.

The music ended.  They stood
staring at each other for a long time.  Then, Flynn let his arm fall to his
side.

Maggie stumbled backward, and he
steadied her.  They walked back to the horses.  He took something out of his
saddlebags and handed it to her.

Maggie stared down at the book.  “
Sonnets
from the Portuguese
,” she whispered.  “By Elizabeth Barrett Browning.”

Flynn nodded.  “I know tomorrow is
your birthday, and since I won’t be here and...well, I thought you might like
it.”

“You remembered my birthday?”

He nodded again.

“Thank you.”  She drew a deep
breath.  “Flynn?”

“Yes?”

“You don’t spend the winter at Kate
Hamilton’s boarding house.”

“No.”  He looked away from her.

Maggie licked her lips.  “Where do
you spend the winter?”

He looked eastward, toward the
mountains.  “Alexander Ridgeton and I built a cabin north of Fort Leavenworth. 
I stay there until Christmas.  Then, I come to St. Jo for a few days.  Then, I
go back until March.”

“Why?”  She blushed.  “I’m sorry. 
That was prying.”

Flynn was silent a long time.  “Sometimes,
I can’t stand to be around people, Maggie.”

“Because of the war?”

“Yes.”

Maggie nodded slowly.  “Sometimes,
I’m afraid of men.”

Flynn looked startled.

Maggie smiled faintly.  “Oh, I don’t
show it.  The girls taught me that if you show fear, they’ll just hurt you
worse.”

“What girls?”  His voice was husky.

“The girls who lived over the
saloon with us.”

Muscles tightened along Flynn’s
jaw.  “I forgot that you grew up over a saloon.”

Maggie nodded.  Her face felt hot
with shame, and her throat ached.  “That’s why I don’t care what people of
think of me for wearing trousers and training horses.  If they found out where
I grew up, they’d despise me anyway.”

“Did your mother—”  Flynn stopped. 
“I’m sorry.”  He grinned lopsidedly.  “That’s prying.”

Maggie shrugged.  “You answered my
question.”  She looked away.  “Lucy didn’t—she didn’t go with men for money. 
But there were men.  There were always men.  That’s why the girls taught me how
to take care of myself.”  She fell silent, remembering.  She shook herself.  “Sometimes,
they brought gifts, a scarf or jewelry, when what we really needed was food.”

Flynn opened his mouth and shut it
again.  “Maggie, you are the most remarkable girl I’ve ever known.”

Maggie shut her eyes.  She had been
ready for him to turn away from her in disgust, but she was completely
unprepared for a compliment.  She swallowed hard.  “Thank you, Flynn.”

He touched her cheek briefly and
then he walked away.  Maggie opened her eyes.  He mounted Horatio with that
smooth grace that always took her breath away.  Then, he turned and rode eastward,
toward the trail that snaked its way up Mount Doloroso.

Maggie watched him go and wondered
if he spent the winter alone in that cabin north of St. Joseph, Missouri.

*  *  *

Flynn had to force himself to ride
away from Maggie.  He wanted to turn Horatio around and ride back to her.  But
she was only sixteen, and he was twenty-six.