Frontier Courtship (22 page)

“None. If we can find the cabin, so can he.”

“Right. Then let’s go.”

Wheeling Ben, Faith led the way up the canyon in search of the father she hadn’t seen in well over a year.

C
onnell dashed out of the so-called hotel in time to see Faith and Irene riding off without him. He cursed under his breath. If it wasn’t one of them causing him grief, it was the other. And now both. No telling what they’d said or done while he was inside. Probably given the whole situation away, he thought, disgusted.

He’d left them so he could quietly inquire about the overall circumstances in town, including whether or not anyone had seen Faith’s fool sister. Thankfully, nobody had, which was the first good news Connell had heard in some time. Next stop was the Beal cabin.

He swung onto the Indian pony, grabbed Rojo’s lead rope and rode off amid jeers, laughing and calls of “Lose something, mister?” and “Hey! Where’s your women?”

The long, narrow valley left few choices of travel. Connell knew approximately where the Beal cabin lay, thanks to the bartender in the hotel. Judging by the direction Faith and Irene had headed, they’d found out, too. All he needed to do was follow them, the quicker the better, and hope he got there before they made any more stupid moves. If Emory Beal was half as impulsive as his eldest daughter, he was liable to grab a shotgun, blow a hole in Tucker without considering the consequences, and hang for murder instead of the other way around. That was not the kind of retribution Connell had in mind.

Emory was coming out of the one-room cabin as Faith and Irene rode up. Hardly able to contain her excitement, Faith grinned, waiting for him to realize who she was. Seconds ticked by. Emory was apparently so concerned about the presence of an Indian woman he wasn’t paying heed to anything else, including the once-familiar mule.

Little wonder he didn’t know her, Faith decided, fidgeting. Her face was half-hidden by the brim of her borrowed hat and although she was wearing a calico dress, she’d had no boots or shoes so she’d kept the moccasins the Cheyenne had given her. Besides, unless her sad letter had reached him, Emory thought she and Charity were still back in Ohio—with Mama.

Sobering, Faith slid to the ground beside Ben and threw the reins over his head. When she said, “Papa!” there was such pathos in her voice, her father’s jaw dropped.

He stepped forward. “Faith?”

“Yes, Papa!” She flung herself into his arms, clinging like the child she once was.

He was weeping with her. Faith leaned away to wipe her cheeks. “You didn’t get my letter?”

“There’s been no mail from home for months.” He looked past his daughter to the other rider. “Who’s that? And where’s Mama and your sister?”

“It’s a long story, Papa,” Faith said. She kept an arm around him as she turned toward the cabin door. “I think we’d better go inside to talk.”

He resisted, staring at her with evident dread. “No. Tell me right now. Where’s your mama?”

Pausing, Faith took a deep breath and prayed silently for strength, for the right words. There was no way to soften the blow. Nor was there any way for her to escape being the messenger of tragedy.

“Mama’s gone to Glory,” she said simply. “There was a tornado. The whole house collapsed. There’s nothing you could have done, even if you’d been there.”

She watched as his shock and disbelief were replaced with soul-deep sadness. Anger would come later. It had for her. And then she’d finally stopped blaming God and had moved on with her life, just as Connell had after his own losses.

Pulled back into the present by thoughts of the plainsman, she glanced down the slope and saw him approaching, tall in the saddle, leading his prize canelo because of its injury.

“The Good Lord has watched out for me,” Faith told her father. She pointed. “That’s Connell McClain. We owe him my life.”

“Charity, too?”

“I pray so,” Faith said.

She waited while Connell and Irene dismounted, then made formal introductions. Emory didn’t question the way Irene was dressed or hesitate to greet the rough plainsman, yet he did seem befuddled, in a fog. Faith kept hold of his thin arm while he showed everyone to the corral at the rear of his cabin. As soon as they saw to the needs of Ben and the horses, he invited the party into his home, made them welcome and offered to share a meal while he listened in awe to their tales of the harrowing journey.

Hearing her own words, Faith was struck anew by the awesomeness of her deliverance. It was getting a lot easier to see how God had worked for her good than it had been at the time she was going through the trials. How simple life would be if only she knew exactly what her heavenly Father wanted her to do next.

By the time Faith had finished telling her story and had shared her candid opinion of Charity’s dilemma, all she wanted to do was bury her head in a soft pillow and sleep for days. She also wanted to give her father a chance to be alone with his grief, yet she knew there was no time for either. Her sister might arrive any day. There were preparations to make. Plans to agree upon.

“Ramsey Tucker wants your gold, Papa,” she said. “The men in town told me your claim’s played out. Is that true?”

Emory nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“Then what are we going to do?”

“I’d give everything I have to see you and your sister safe and well and happy,” he answered. “But since I have nothing of value to offer, we’ll just have to make Charity’s husband understand.”

“It’s not that simple,” Faith explained. “Tucker doesn’t take kindly to bad news. He probably won’t believe you’re penniless no matter what we tell him.”

“I’m not. Not exactly,” he said. “I’d saved out a few nice nuggets to show your mama.” Eyes misty, he went to a tin sitting in plain sight on a shelf beside his bed, opened it and removed a yellowed white handkerchief.

He handed the small bundle to Faith. “They’re yours, now, Faith. Yours and Charity’s. I never want to see another fleck of color. Never. It’s all been for nothing.”

“Oh, Papa, don’t say that. You did what you thought was right. I know you wanted to make a better life for all of us. That’s not wrong. It just didn’t work out the way you’d expected. Mama knew you loved us. That’s why she made me promise to come west and find you.”

“It’s a wonder you did. Many’s the man who disappears for good in the diggin’s,” Emory said, sighing.

Irene had been silent during most of the conversation. Now, she spoke up. “Where Tucker is concerned, it’s mostly his women who are never heard from again. How can you all just sit there, talking about that man as if he were less than evil?”

“It’s not like that.” Faith sought to placate her. “We have to prove his character to Charity as well as make him pay for his crimes.” She scowled a warning at Irene. “And I don’t mean take the law into our own hands.”

“Why not? The minute Ramsey Tucker sees you and me he’s going to know his evil doings have been exposed. Then what? We can’t let him walk away with your sister, even if she won’t believe us. She’s a witness. Once she puts two and two together, she’ll be in terrible danger.”

Holding the handkerchief containing the gold nuggets, Faith fingered their hardness through the fabric. “Maybe we could trade?” A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Suppose Papa offered to trade Tucker his valuable mining claim in exchange for his daughter’s freedom? We all know he’d accept. And that would certainly show Charity her husband’s true colors, wouldn’t it?”

Connell laughed. “It sure would. I like the way your mind works, Little Dove Woman.”

“And then what?” Irene demanded.

Faith had a ready answer for that question, too. The whole plan was suddenly coming together brilliantly in spite of her weariness. “Papa can keep our presence secret while he deals with Tucker. Nobody in town knows who we are so we’ll be safe enough. I don’t think the Good Lord will mind a temporary falsehood in order to right a wrong.”

“You? Lie?” Connell chuckled. “It’s okay with me, if you think your conscience can stand it.”

“I’ll live,” Faith retorted cynically. “While we get things ready here, you backtrack up the canyon and see if you can spot Tucker coming so we won’t get caught unawares.”

“I might be persuaded to do that for you.” Connell glanced at Irene. “If my future bride doesn’t mind waiting a bit to see her new home.”

His innocent words tore into Faith’s heart and left it bleeding, empty. She averted her gaze rather than chance seeing anyone’s unspoken query into the reason for her pain. She thought she’d die when her father said, “You know, there’s a traveling preacher due here in a few days. He could marry you. We might even be able to come up with a regular dress for the lady from the Kentucky gal down at the Majestic. I know I’ve seen her wear a pretty one.”

Faith wanted to scream. To wail. To jump to her feet and confess her love for Connell in spite of Irene’s presence. She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a croak any frog would have been proud of.

Irene, however, had no trouble stating firmly, “No.”

“No?” Connell looked puzzled.

“No.” Standing proud, Irene addressed everyone, Faith included. “You all seem to forget. I’m already married to Ramsey Tucker. Until that problem is resolved, one way or another, I’m not free to marry anyone else.”

Faith breathed a relieved sigh. In all her mental ramblings regarding Irene and Connell, she’d never once thought of the problem that Irene’s marriage to Tucker was still binding. He didn’t think of it that way, of course, because he believed Irene was dead. They all knew better. And the proof was standing right there in front of her, very much alive.

Truth dawned. She gasped. “That’s right! Charity
can’t
be legally married to him. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“For you, maybe,” Connell said flatly. “But it sure puts a serious crimp in my future plans.”

Faith watched her father closely for the next several weeks. Some days he seemed almost normal. Other times, no matter how he tried to hide it, she could tell he was dismally unhappy. She understood how he felt. Every time she thought of Connell she experienced a jolt of awareness, a sense of abiding love that warmed her all the way to her soul. Those blissful thoughts were always spoiled by an imaginary picture of him standing beside Irene, reciting wedding vows.

Except for an occasional foray out to check on Ben and the horses, Faith had kept to the cabin. Her father had explained to his friends that his wife’s cousin and her traveling companion were visiting and no one had doubted the story. In the Territories and those few states west of the Mississippi, men didn’t ask questions, nor did they welcome being queried about their own past lives. It was a place to start again. To take a new name, if necessary, and leave behind the failures of the past.

Seated by the small stove in one corner of the room, lost in thought, Faith was suddenly overcome by the realization that nothing could ever be as she remembered it. In a vague way she’d sensed that truth when she’d first set eyes on her father and his simple cabin. It wasn’t only that their family home in Ohio had been leveled by disaster, it was knowing that none of them could go back to the kind of life they’d once shared.

They’d all changed. Grown. Faith especially. She’d been forced into taking charge and as a result had found a fortitude within herself she’d never dreamed existed. The carefree child she’d been such a short time ago was merely a fond, distant memory.

And now?

Faith sighed. Her duty, once all was said and done, was to her father, just as Irene’s had been when she’d chosen to take responsibility for her elderly parents rather than marry Connell and accompany him to the wilderness. Funny how history repeated itself, wasn’t it?

The sound of an approaching horse and Ben’s answering bray drew her from her reverie. She jumped to her feet to greet Connell with a grin as he burst through the door.

“They’re coming!” he shouted. “About ten minutes out. Is everything set?”

“Yes.” Faith hurried to the tin box. “I have the nuggets right here. Papa’s been spreading the word he’s made another big strike. We’re as ready as we’ll ever be.”

“Good.” Connell scanned the room. “Where’s Irene? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. She’s gone down to the river with my father. He’s showing her how to find gold with a Long Tom.”
And I’m fine, too, thanks. Real tickled to see you,
Faith added, deriding herself for being so excited that Connell was finally back in Beal’s Bar.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Let’s go. We have to warn the others and plant those nuggets.”

“Right.” Faith followed him out the door. “I’ll go saddle Ben.”

“There’s no time for that,” Connell said. “Take my hand. We’ll ride double.”

“You’re sure Rojo is well enough to carry the extra weight?”

Chuckling, the plainsman grabbed her arm and swung her up behind him in one fluid motion. “Don’t worry. He’s all healed up. Hardly even a scar. Besides, even a lame horse wouldn’t feel the little bit you weigh.”

“I’m so glad he’s okay.”

“Me, too. In case I didn’t remember to thank you, we owe you a lot for coming to our rescue.”

“You didn’t remember,” Faith said, adjusting her skirt as best she could while the horse pranced and shifted beneath her. “But you’re quite welcome.”

“Good.”

He wheeled the big gelding, pointed his nose down the slope toward the river, and kicked him into action.

Straddling the apron of the saddle behind him, Faith knew if she was to keep her seat she had no choice but to wrap both arms around Connell and hang on for dear life. She couldn’t help smiling. There was nothing like necessity to overcome inhibitions, was there?

All her good intentions, all her promises of self-control, fled the moment she touched him. Arms around his waist, Faith pressed herself against him, held tight and closed her eyes.

Their trip was over in moments, but she nevertheless thanked the Lord for giving her that one last chance to be so near the plainsman, to innocently lay her cheek against his warm, broad back and dream of what could never be.

Moving quickly in spite of her whirling emotions, Faith dismounted, helped Emory place the nuggets in the narrow, wooden race of the Long Tom, then stood back. By shading her eyes with her hand, she was able to watch Charity and her villainous husband descending the steep trail toward the river.