To Wed in Texas (6 page)

“Now?”

“Now.” He walked outside, hoping she’d follow. There were plenty of women to finish and watch the twins. The Buchanans treated child rearing with the herd philosophy. Except for sleeping, the children all stayed together and the adults took turns sitting on the nest. They traveled in a pack, with older ones taking care of younger. His twins loved the attention.

Daniel marched past two huge live oaks and headed toward the bayou where old cypress trees tiptoed into the water’s edge. He didn’t bother to turn around. If she followed, she followed. He’d not beg for her attention.

When he reached shade so thick it seemed like twilight, he stared out across the bayou, listening for the sounds of passing boats. The air hung damp and warm for late February, but the wind off the water was cool. He could almost close his eyes and think he was back home in Indiana. As a boy, he’d loved rowing out to the center of the lake near their farm. When the day got hot, he’d lay down in the boat and let the sun warm him as he listened to water lap against the sides.

“I’m sorry.” Karlee broke into his thoughts. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep in church. I know you’re probably mad at me, but not speaking to me won’t solve any problem.”

Daniel turned around to face her and was surprised to find her so close behind him. She still wore the tea towel she’d tucked into her waistband as an apron. “I’m not mad at you.” He tried to think of how to put words together as he backed away from her a few steps. “I can’t blame you. I’m not much of a preacher.”

“Oh, no.” She lied. “You’re fine, just fine. I didn’t sleep last night. I was trying to think of some way to say thank you for letting me stay. I want you to know I’ll try real hard to help out. I’ll learn to cook and I’ll take good care of the twins and I’ll …” She paused, trying to remember a well-rehearsed speech.

“It’s all right,” he interrupted. “I said you could stay. Fact is, I need you desperately.” Daniel watched her closely, sensing more than she was saying. “Is going back really so bad?”

He thought he saw a tear in the corner of her eye before she blinked it away.

She straightened slightly and looked directly at him. “Yes,” she said simply.

Daniel could see the truth in her eyes. A woman without money or family…where would she go? From the way she worked for her meal, he guessed she’d been working hard all her life, trying to pay back what she’d probably been told she had no right to.

He forced out what had to be said. “Promise me you won’t leave, no matter what happens, no matter what you see, or hear, or think you hear.”

Surprise lifted her eyebrows. “All right.”

“If you left I could lose the twins, and I couldn’t live with that. No matter what happens, the twins must stay.”

“I think I understand. They’re very lucky little girls to be loved so much.”

“They’re all I have.” His stance relaxed and he smiled. “So promise you won’t marry one of the Buchanans. At least not for a year.”

She tilted her head slightly in an action that reminded him of his daughters. “I think I can promise that with some ease. Granny’s smart as a whip, but the intelligence seems to be watering down through the generations.”

She’d expected him to laugh and agree, but Daniel
only stared out at the water. “I’ll stay,” she added wondering if he was even listening.

“Good.” He let out a long breath. “I need you on my side, Karlee, no matter what.”

He saw it in her eyes, a question, a doubt, a decision to trust. “I’ll be there.”

“Preacher!” Deut shouted from the house before Daniel-could say more. “We got a rider who barely made it here. He’s bleeding like a stuck pig and yelling your name.”

Daniel glanced at Karlee. “It’s started,” he whispered. “Don’t forget your promise. No matter what.”

“K
ARLEE, GET THE TWINS!” DANIEL SHOUTED AS HE
carried a wounded man toward their wagon. “We need to get out of here before the Buchanans share our trouble.”

Questions jumped wildly across Karlee’s mind, but the stranger—covered in blood and dust—left no time to talk. He couldn’t have been more than a skeleton beneath his ragged Confederate jacket. His hair and beard were long and unkempt. When exhausted blue eyes met Karlee’s gaze, she realized he wasn’t as old as she. And he was frightened, terrified.

“Get the twins!” Daniel snapped. “We’ve no time.”

As she hurried the girls toward the wagon, Karlee heard Deut Buchanan whisper to Daniel. “This is Cullen Baker’s doing, I’d bet on it. Most of the trouble blamed on this boy weren’t his fault. I’ll take care of the animal. You get Jesse dead and buried deep as soon as you can, Reverend.”

Karlee stared at the pale face of the wounded man. Blood dripped from his chest, soaking into Daniel’s black coat.
He’s not dead yet,
she wanted to shout at Deut, but to her surprise, the man nodded a “thank you” to the oldest Buchanan male.

Granny stood on the porch shaking her head as if she’d been predicting a storm and she could hear the thunder. “I ain’t known nothing but trouble in this state since I come here twenty years ago. We got too many younguns around for there to be gunplay on my land.” She gestured with her head toward her sons. “Saddle up, and make sure the preacher gets home safely.”

Four Buchanan boys were on horseback before Daniel got the wounded man hidden in the back of his wagon. He tucked the twins just behind the seat and climbed up beside Karlee.

“What’s happening?” She gripped the frame as he slapped the horses into action. The power in his movements frightened her. He was a big man, and strong, but until now she’d never thought of him as a warrior. Somehow, in a heartbeat’s time, this quiet man of the cloth had donned invisible armor. She feared for anything or anyone who got in his way.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he mumbled, taking no polite care to allow the few inches between them as he had earlier.

His leg brushed hers as he braced his weight. Karlee tried not to notice. They had a wagon loaded with trouble; the space between them was of no importance. But each time his arm or leg moved against hers, she stiffened then reminded herself she was acting like a foolish old spinster.

They made it back to the house in half the time it had taken to ride out to the Buchanan farm. Daniel pulled the wagon around to the back door, but the location of the house allowed little privacy from homes surrounded it. The Buchanans stopped out front as though notifying anyone interested that the reverend had company. Karlee couldn’t help but notice each man’s rifle came with him into the house.

As Daniel lifted the wounded man, he called over his
shoulder. “Get the twins inside! Keep them in the kitchen no matter what you hear.”

Karlee had no idea what was going on. All she could do was trust Daniel as she’d promised. And trusting a man whose favorite saying was “we’ll talk about it later” wasn’t an easy thing to do.

She followed behind Daniel and bolted the door. The girls clung to her skirts. Karlee fought to hide any worry and confusion, knowing the girls were already tired and cranky. They didn’t need to be frightened as well. Tension hung in the air as thick as the smell of blood.

After trying everything she could think of to keep the twins busy, she finally gave up the battle and sat in a huge rocker pulled close to a cold fireplace. This corner of the kitchen caught the morning light but now lay in shadows. To her surprise, both girls crawled into her lap and wiggled their way to sleep.

She rocked them slowly, listening to voices somewhere beyond the kitchen door. Men were talking, but she couldn’t understand what they were saying. She could hear footsteps but couldn’t tell how many there were.

Daniel’s words, “promise to stay no matter what you hear,” filled her thoughts. Had he known this would happen, or had he only guessed?

Long shadows criss-crossed the room when she felt one of the twins being lifted from beneath her arm. Karlee looked up at Daniel’s large frame hovering above her.

“I’ll help you put them to bed,” he whispered as he carefully settled one sleeping girl against a white spot of cotton on a shirt splattered with blood.

Karlee followed him upstairs with the other twin in her arms. The girls’ room and hers were the only rooms on the second floor. She’d been here two days now and had no idea where he slept. In truth, she hadn’t even
had time to learn her way around the house, except for the kitchen and her plain, sparsely furnished room.

Once the girls were tucked in, she moved down the stairs, allowing Daniel a moment to say goodnight to his children.

In the parlor, the three youngest Buchanan men stood facing the windows, their guns drawn and ready. None looked old enough to need to shave regularly, but all held weapons with practiced ease.

One glanced in her direction, then turned back to his post without even bothering to nod a greeting. They might be poor farm folks to most eyes, but Karlee suspected they were men born to this land with an alertness for danger and a strength to act when needed.

Karlee kept her attention on the guards as she silently crossed the hall and slipped into the dining room. She navigated toward the kitchen in shadows. The smell of blood and dirt and dying filled her senses. She slowed, searching the darkness, letting her fingers guide her as her eyes adjusted.

Her hip bumped against the table a moment before her fingers trailed into warm, thick liquid.

Karlee froze as her eyes made out the dark forms before her.

Two men lay on the dining table. One was the wounded man they’d transported from the ranch. Deut Buchanan had called him Jesse. His wound had been treated, but crimson already colored the bandage and the table where he’d curled into a ball like an infant. The Confederate uniform he had worn was replaced by a rough homespun shirt and tattered trousers.

The other man on the table lay straight, as though at attention, and was dressed in Jesse’s bloody uniform.

“Karlee, you shouldn’t be in here.” Daniel was close behind her. He reached around and lifted her hand from the blood pooled on the table.

The blood seemed to pull at her fingers, not wanting her to withdraw. Daniel’s hand closed over hers, gently forcing her to form a fist.

“Karlee, we need to—”

She wasn’t listening as she took a step closer to the table and gasped as she saw the second man’s face. “He’s dead,” she whispered. The stranger’s features were already drawn and white.

Daniel gripped her shoulder, guiding her backward against the hard wall of his chest for support. He leaned slightly to say against her ear. “Trust me, Cousin, you’ve seen nothing here tonight. Nothing!”

One of the men guarding the windows appeared in the doorway. “You better get cleaned up, Preacher. They’ll be here any minute. We’ll take care of Jesse.”

Daniel nodded and hurried Karlee with him from the room. “I’ll explain later.” His hand moved over her shoulder and brushed her arm before he released her.

Karlee followed him into the kitchen light. “No, I think you’ll—”

He tossed her his jacket. “See if you can get the blood off this,” he ordered as though she hadn’t spoken.

Karlee watched as he unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, then jerked it over his head. A trim waist, then the molded muscles of his chest appeared before her, reminding her more of finely carved wood than of flesh.

When she gasped, his head snapped up. For a moment, his gaze searched the room, then he met her stare. A smile touched his lips. “Sorry,” he said without giving any meaning to the word. “I guess you’ve never seen a man so undressed.” He plunged the shirt into a pan of cold water, then used it for a rag to wash the blood from his chest. “But I’ve no time to be polite, Spinster Whitworth.”

Karlee swallowed. She’d sound like an absolute fool
if she said she had never been so close to a man without a shirt. After all, she was twenty-three years old, not some child. “Of course I have,” she lied. “Only they weren’t as broad.”

Daniel continued to wash. “When I first came to Texas, I worked as a blacksmith. I still work sometimes at night when I can’t sleep.”

Without asking, he reached for her hand still stained in blood and washed it in the dribble of water from the pump. There was nothing caring or caressing in his touch, only practical, but Karlee could feel her face warm from the way his rough fingers moved across her palm and threaded through her hand.

As he released her, he tossed the wet shirt toward her and turned away. “Is there blood on my back?”

Karlee accepted the shirt as he braced himself against the counter and waited.

“Hurry,” he prompted. “I may have only minutes.”

She couldn’t breathe as she wiped the wet cotton across his muscular frame. Gently, she placed her free hand on his shoulder, as if she needed to balance herself. His flesh was hard and warm, unlike anything she’d ever touched.

He turned and took the garment from her hand. “I know I have no right to ask more of you, but I’ve no time to explain. A man’s life depends on your trusting me.”

He was so near she could feel the warmth of him.

“No matter what happens, follow my orders as close as you can and above all, protect the twins. I’ll explain later.”