Frontier Courtship (17 page)

C
ircling wide to pick up Faith’s trail without being seen by anyone from the wagon train took Connell the better part of an hour. By the time he did find her mule’s tracks they had been joined by those of a pair of Indian ponies.

He’d been hoping Irene would see what was needed and take appropriate action. Assuming those particular hoofprints didn’t belong to renegade Indians, she’d done just that and was currently shepherding Faith back to their campsite. Good. He’d have had a terrible time keeping track of both of them if they’d remained separated.

Thinking of the two women at the same time pointed up many contrasts. Irene was steady. Predictable. Sensible to a fault. He might have attributed those characteristics to her maturity had he not known her when she was a mere girl. Even back then she had been the sober, rational type, wise beyond her years.

Faith, on the other hand, was anything but prudent. She viewed life as one grand adventure and conducted herself accordingly. Where another woman might have collapsed in despair or fright, Faith Beal had trudged bravely on, head held high, spirits unflagging. When they’d first met, at Fort Laramie, she’d denied the pain of her injuries until her body had rebelled and forced her to pay heed. Now that she’d mended, it was even easier for him to appreciate her fortitude. Too bad it wasn’t tempered by more discretion.

Rojo’s head suddenly came up, his ears swiveling forward. Since their campsite lay only a few hundred yards ahead, Connell wouldn’t have worried if a shiver hadn’t pricked the nape of his own neck at the same instant.

He reined in the big gelding and dismounted. The camp was dark. Because of lingering danger from the wagon train, he hadn’t expected to see a fire. He did, however, think someone should have noted his approach and called to him by now. Irene would remain wary, of course, but Faith didn’t know the meaning of caution.
Not
hearing her voice made him more uneasy than he would have been if she’d shouted out a greeting—or a warning.

There was no way he could sneak closer when Rojo was with him so he let go of the reins to leave the horse ground-hitched, then dropped into a crouch and started to circle the tiny encampment. Irene’s horse’s tracks had led straight there, so where was she? Moreover, what had become of Faith and her mule?

Before Connell had time to ask himself any more questions he heard three telltale metallic clicks. Somebody had just cocked the hammer of a revolver! He froze.

To his soul-deep relief, the sound was not immediately followed by a bullet. Instead, he heard a sharp intake of breath, then a smothered gasp.

A lone figure arose out of the darkness. His subconscious recognized Faith in time to keep him from acting on instinct and forcefully defending himself. Relieved, though still on alert, he started to straighten slowly, cautiously.

Faith uncocked her pistol, holstered it and launched herself at him with a squeal of delight. “Connell!”

Her arms were open wide, her enthusiasm overwhelming. The plainsman caught her as she barreled into him, but her momentum carried them both to the ground and temporarily knocked the wind out of him.

“Oof.”

Faith didn’t seem to notice. “Oh, Connell. Praise God!” she blurted. “I’ve been so worried!”

“Thanks. I think.”

He gave her a wry smile, then asked, “Do you mind?” before clasping her waist and bodily moving her to one side. Once he’d regained his feet he gave her his hand and pulled her up, too.

Faith was blushing, flustered. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to knock you over. I was just so glad to see you. I’ve been terribly nervous, out here all alone.”

Connell stiffened, fully alert and scanning the darkness beyond. “Alone? Irene isn’t with you? Why not? I followed your tracks.”

“She was here. She took Ben and the horses to water.”

Reassured, Connell began to relax. “Then everything’s okay. She wouldn’t have left you if she’d thought there was any danger. How long has she been gone?”

Faith’s words tumbled out like water through floodgates. “I don’t know. It feels like forever. I was supposed to wait right here by the fire—only we didn’t light one—and tell you not to worry, that she’ll be back shortly. She swore she never gets lost. I didn’t know what else to do. After she went away, I began hearing things prowling around in the dark so I got out Papa’s gun. Oh, Connell! I might have shot you. I’m so glad I didn’t. You shouldn’t go sneaking up on me in the dark. I mean, what if I’d…oh, my.”

Connell let her babble on till she’d run out of things to say, then reassured her with a soft chuckle. “Hey, you didn’t shoot, so stop fretting.”

“I suppose I should have, shouldn’t I?”

He rolled his eyes. “Shot me? No.”

“No, not
you.
I mean whatever else is out there. I know something is. I can feel it. Ben sensed it, too.”

“Probably coyotes.” Connell noticed she was trembling and put his arm around her shoulders for comfort. “You should never shoot at anything unless you can see it clearly and be sure it’s really what you think it is.” He gave her an amiable squeeze. “If you’ll remember that one rule you won’t blow holes in your friends by mistake.”

He’d intended to raise her spirits with the silly comment. Instead, Faith stared at him for a second, then buried her face in her hands and burst into tears.

“Hey, enough of that. The scary part’s over. Everybody came through safe and sound, even the dumb kid who jumped on her mule bareback and started a stampede.”

Faith sniffled, wiped her damp cheeks with the backs of her hands and looked up at him wide-eyed. “I—I did?”

“You sure did.”

“What happened? I was so busy trying to get away I never looked back.”

“Let’s just say that Ramsey Tucker was good and bamboozled by the whole thing. He rode up after I got the stampede stopped and wanted to know what I’d seen. I swore I hadn’t seen one single Indian brave.”

“You lied?”

“Nope. He didn’t ask me about seeing any squaws. My conscience is clear.” Connell’s smile grew. “I knew you’d be proud of me for telling the truth.”

Faith slipped one arm around his waist and leaned into him to take full advantage of the way he was still hugging her shoulders. “I’d be proud of you no matter what. I can’t believe anyone would offer to take my place the way you did when Black Kettle was so angry.”

“I can’t believe I did it, either. It wasn’t planned.”

“That doesn’t matter. You did it. That’s what counts. I’m so, so grateful. And I’m so sorry you were hurt.”

Turning slightly to fully face him, Faith put her other arm around his waist and clung to him with a fierceness that surprised her while she choked back sobs. She hadn’t meant to weep anymore, but her emotions were overwhelming.

“Hey, there’s no need for that,” he said, closing his arms around her and gently rubbing her upper back. “It’s all over now.”

“No it isn’t. It’ll never be over.” Faith was afraid to let go, to stop drawing courage from his solid strength.

“Sure it will.” Connell wished he could honestly say that her trials would soon be at an end, but it wasn’t fair to lie to her, even if the truth was painful. “Look, we’ve come this far in one piece so we must be doing something right. Your problems will all work out for the best. And I’ll stay with you till everything is settled.”

“You—you will?”

“Of course I will. That’s what friends do.”

“We are friends, aren’t we?” she asked, swiping away the last of her tears and looking up at him. “I’m sorry I’ve been acting so silly. I don’t usually fall apart like this. When I stop to think about everything that’s happened, I just can’t seem to keep from crying.” She managed a smile. “I don’t want you to think I’m like Charity.”

“Not a chance,” Connell assured her. “I already know you’re one of a kind.”

“I am?”

“Oh, yes,” he drawled, nodding. “When the Good Lord made you, I imagine He realized He’d outdone himself so He stopped right there. One Faith Beal was enough.”

Silently, Connell added,
And in my case, one is probably one too many.

Faith would have gladly stood in the man’s tender embrace for hours if she hadn’t felt him suddenly tense. She looked up. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know. I heard something out there.”

“Maybe Irene is bringing the horses back.”

“Maybe.” He grasped her shoulders to set her away from him. “In which case I don’t suppose she’d be all that thrilled to find us acting like a couple of Cheyennes standing under a blanket.”

“We weren’t!”

“No, we weren’t. But it might have looked like we were, which is bad enough.” He turned to scan the prairie beyond their camp. “It’s a new moon so there isn’t much light. You stay right here. Keep your head down.”

Faith made a grab for his sleeve. “Wait! Where are you going?”

“Out there,” Connell told her quietly. “Keep your papa’s pistol handy while I’m gone but, for heaven’s sake, don’t pull the trigger unless you’re positive you’re not shooting at me or Irene.”

“Or the horses.”

That comment made him chuckle in spite of the tension in the air. “I figure you can probably tell the difference between a fella like me and a critter like Ben, especially if you think hard about it. Just remember, he’s the one with the long ears.”

Watching Connell disappear into the dimness of the desert night, Faith thought about his parting remarks. His ears might be smaller, but he was every bit as stubborn as her old mule. And strong. And just as faithful.

“You’re all I have left. I love you both,” she whispered with soul-deep honesty. “More than anything else in the world.”

Embarrassed by the admission even though no one had heard her make it, Faith blushed. She didn’t know how the plainsman would feel about being compared to a mule, especially when that comparison gave equal favor to both man and beast, but she’d meant it to be the highest of compliments. There wasn’t a single person on the whole of the earth that she trusted the way she trusted Connell McClain. Nor was there another mount besides Ben to whom she wanted to assign her future well-being. Now that she had him back, nobody was ever going to wrest him away from her again.

A stick broke beneath a footstep somewhere in the dark. Faith started. Crouched. Picked up her father’s Colt pistol and held it at the ready.

“Don’t shoot,” a man’s voice called. “It’s us.”

Breath left Faith is a whoosh of relief. “Connell. You found Irene?”

He came closer. “Yes.”

“Is everything all right?” The expression on his face was muted by the night, yet Faith thought he looked disturbed, maybe even angry.

“Everything’s fine. There wasn’t any watering hole close by after all. We’ll take the horses and Ben to find food and water at daybreak. They’ll be fine until then.”

He glanced at Irene, who was following with their mounts, and told her, “I left Rojo a ways out. I’ll go get him. You stay here with Faith.” There was a long pause in which nothing else was said before Connell added tersely, “Is that understood?”

Irene merely nodded. As soon as he’d walked away, she went to work hobbling the other horses by tying short strips of rawhide between their front legs. Trussed up that way, they could take short steps to graze yet were prevented from running off.

“I’ll leave Ben for you to take care of,” she said, straightening and facing Faith. “Unless you’re sure he’ll stick close no matter what, I’d tie him, too.”

“He won’t leave me,” Faith assured her.

“If you say so.”

“I do. I know him very well. We grew up together.”

Irene made a soft sound of disgust. “Believe me, just because you’ve known him all your life doesn’t mean he won’t start to think and act differently if his circumstances change.”

“Are we still talking about me and my mule?” Faith asked. “Or have we started talking about you and Connell?”

Irene retained her stoic Cheyenne expression. “If you want your mule to be here in the morning, Miss Beal, you’ll take my advice and tie him.”

“You didn’t answer me. I’ve been getting the feeling that something’s wrong ever since we left Black Kettle’s camp. What is it? Why is Connell acting so funny?”

With a cynical laugh, Irene said, “You don’t have much experience with men, do you?”

“Of course I do. I had a father. And I managed to outwit Ramsey Tucker.”

“Only because Connell intervened. If he hadn’t, you’d be long dead by now.”

Faith had to admit she was right. “Okay. So I had help. You did, too. Ab was supposed to kill you, you know, but he went against orders and sold you, instead.”

“I know.”

Sadness colored the other woman’s countenance, making her shoulders slump, her voice sound tremulous. It was the first time since Faith had met her that Irene had shown any sign of being downhearted.

“Then cheer up. You should be giving thanks to our Heavenly Father. We both should,” Faith urged. “We were spared. There must be some good reason, some special deed we were meant to accomplish, perhaps even together.” She was warming to her subject as more and more truth dawned. “Think of it. You and I were strangers until a benevolent Providence united us in the midst of all our troubles. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Irene looked askance at her. “Wonderful? Do you actually believe that what’s happened to you—or to me—is
good?
”

“It can be. If our faith is strong enough we can triumph over any evil. You’ll see. Everything will turn out for the best. All we have to do is keep our eyes on the Good Lord and our minds open to His plans and we’ll persevere.”

“Life isn’t that simple.” Irene stared off into the distant emptiness, her vision unfocused. “And this isn’t the Garden of Eden.”

“I suppose not.” Faith sighed. “There are times when I’ve thought it was beautiful enough to be, though. This country has a stark, unique beauty. Sunsets out here seem to last forever. When the sky turns all pink and orange, it takes my breath away.”

At that, Irene nodded agreement. “Mine, too. In the spring, the Cheyenne and Arapaho hold a dance to honor the sun. I was traded to Black Kettle during one of those celebrations.”