Unbroken Hearts (23 page)

    
Emily finally saw them, riding toward the
barn. She leapt from the table, knocked the cards to the floor. Her short legs
worked double-time as she ran to catch up to them.

    
"Hello Roy! Hello Mr. Easton! Will
you be out here long? I mean, are you coming up to the house for supper?"
She followed them into the barn.

    
"Wouldn't miss it, " drawled
Roy.

    
The men were weary. They swung down and
stiffly unsaddled the horses, brushed them down. Roy knew something was astir.
Emily was right on their heels, and she looked like she'd swallowed a cat. The
girl was hopping from one foot to the other while wringing her hands.
 

    
Cal's eyes flickered to her bouncing blond
curls and he managed a smile. "You got something you want to tell
us?" He'd started his question with a bark but softened when he saw Emily
jump back.

    
"No sir! I won't give away the
surprise. Sarah wouldn't forgive me for that." Her eyes flew wide. She
quickly slapped her hands over her mouth.

    
Roy laughed. "Don't worry, Emily. You
didn't tell. But I do hope it's a pleasant surprise."

    
"Oh, it is!" Emily sang out gleefully.

    
"That's nice."

    
The men silently conspired to
procrastinate. Especially Roy. It was too much fun not to torture Emily just a
little bit. He ambled over to the trough with a bucket and dipped it in. He
slowly washed his hands and face and offered the bucket to Cal to do the same.
They talked about how poor the buffalo grass was in the northwest section, and
then about how one of the hands had asked Bailey if his brother could come out
to work for them.

    
To Emily it seemed an eternity, but
finally the men finished their washing and strode up to the house.
 

   
Cal noted Sarah's smile when she took her place at the table. He hadn't
seen her look happy in days and felt his chest tighten when he realized how
much he'd missed it. For the first time since she told him about her other man,
he thought perhaps she'd been hurting just as much as him. He'd spent so much
time being angry he hadn't thought enough about her feelings.

    
Ned came in the back door and slid into
the seat next to Mama.

    
They passed the plates. Conversation was
amiable, and Ned at the table made it easier. Sarah found that she could direct
her comments to him and Roy. She was in such a terrific mood that it didn't
much matter anyway. Being able to talk to Mama was like celebrating an
unexpected holiday. Better, in truth. Mama would no longer live in exile. It
strengthened Sarah's silent hope that anything was possible.

    
As they finished Ned pushed his plate to
the middle of the table, produced the alphabet page, and pulled a scrap of
paper and pencil from his pocket. He scraped his chair noisily on the floor
when he turned to face Mama.

    
"What should we be doin' this evening,
Mrs. Easton?" he asked with a casual sweep of his hand.

    
Mama's eyes started blinking, and Ned put
pencil to paper. After a few moments he looked up at the slack-jawed Easton men
and laughed at their stunned expressions. "Your mama says she wants to
spend this evening talking with her sons."

    
It was as if a dam had burst. Everyone
started talking at once. Emily was practically screaming, "It's the
surprise! It's the surprise!" Cal and Roy were shouting over each other to
ask Ned questions. Ned had to hold up his hand to quiet everyone.

    
They all went silent and let Ned explain.
"She's blinkin' Morse code. We taught her this afternoon."

    
Sarah chimed in proudly. "It was all
Ned's idea. He knew the code."

    
"I wouldn't have thought of it if not
for Sarah," Ned retorted.

    
Rich marvelous laughter erupted from both
men. "Don't you two beat all," Cal teased, eyes brimming.

    
"That's right," added Roy
jubilantly. "Teach us that code!"

      
Sarah and Emily rose and took the
plates to the kitchen to wash up. Ned took Mrs. Easton to the parlor with Cal
and Roy, where he gave them their first lesson in talking to their Mama. Their
happy shouts and laughter could be heard all the way to the kitchen as they
decoded their mother's first words.

    
After a few minutes of chatting with the
men, Mama's tone changed.
 
Can
you keep a secret from Sa(rah) and Em(ily)?
 
Sa cannot know I told.

    
Cal bristled outwardly.
Know what?
His stomach churned as he sensed what was coming
next.
 

    
Mama blinked in abbreviated fashion:

Her uncle owed money to man Ansel Crane. Uncle
promised Sa(rah) in marriage if he could not pay debt. Now he comes to collect
and Sarah must marry. S ashamed uncle sold her. Told me. Sarah sad.

     
Ned scratched his head. "So
that was in the telegram. Doggone! From this Crane fellow?"

    
Mama blinked 'yes'.

    
The men were furious.

    
Stinging curses hailed from Cal's mouth.
"How much money did the coyote owe?" His voice was hard, on the edge
of breaking. What snake of a man forced a woman into marriage over a dead man's
debt?
  

    
Mama blinked out three hundred fifty
dollars.
 

    
"Why didn't she tell us?" Roy
wondered aloud. He'd already figured the uncle to be despicable, but he never
imagined it would be this bad.

    
The men hung their heads and stared at
their hands. Ned finally swallowed and spoke quietly. "She's likely
ashamed of the scoundrel-uncle. It's why she couldn't tell, and whys we can't let
on we know. She's still got her dignity. So long as she thinks you think she's
from decent family she feels right about being here, and maybe even worthy.
Women set store by such." He shook his head. "Lord knows why."

    
Cal reckoned Ned to be right. It seemed
Sarah would rather pack her bag and bolt than suffer the shame of them knowing
the truth of her circumstance. She'd said it was a matter of duty.

    
Roy slumped his shoulders and looked at
his brother. "She's got a predicament. What do ya' plan to do?"

    
Cal sighed heavily. He spoke through
clenched teeth. "Never cross a river before you reach it. So, right now,
nothing. But it rankles. When this Crane fella shows up the only thing he's
taking home is a backside of buckshot." As an afterthought he added,
"Don't mention this to anyone."
Damn her misplaced sense of honor
and propriety.
But then, that very
sweet lack of worldliness was one of the most endearing aspects of the woman.

    
Jaws set resolutely, the other men
silently nodded agreement with Cal's plan. Mama blinked one word.
Good.

Chapter 21

    
Cal proposed a truce just after breakfast.
She'd carefully avoided his dark brooding eyes, even when brushing her fingers
against his as she handed him his coffee. As she'd started to push away from
the table his rough rancher hands clamped around her wrist, trapping her in her
seat. Startled, Sarah looked up at her captor.

    
"We need to talk," Cal clipped.
"Ned can keep an eye on Mama."

    
Sarah stiffened.
Oh Lord, he's going to
fire me
, she thought. She swallowed
and tried in vain to read his deep brown eyes. They were dull and he was
unreachable. "OK," she shrugged with mustered indifference, and
tossed her head.

    
Cal firmly gripped her arm and led her
down the hall to the parlor. He closed the door behind them.
 
Her ramrod spine and narrowed eyes
flickering around the room gave her the look of cornered prey desperately
seeking an escape route.

    
"Sit down." He sighed. He seemed
to straddle the fence between frustration and anger.

    
Cal sat down next to her, and he slid close,
deliberately touching his thigh to hers. He was aware of her eyes regarding
him, veiled with fear, like she was being marched to her own hanging. Yet he
knew he could look at those eyes wearing any one of a dozen expressions,
thousands of times, and still be undone. And just then it was undoing him so
much he forgot the speech he'd rehearsed at least five times while lying in bed
the previous evening.

    
"Er, I know that you plan to marry
that fellow from back where you come from."

    
"Well . . . yes."
 
Sarah shrugged. She pulled her feet
closer to hug the sofa, and the action dragged her knees up.

    
Cal thrust his hand through his hair.
"Mind, I'm not angry with
you
.
So there's no call to run away like a doggie dodging the rope every time I get
near." He reached across the breach between them and closed his hand over
hers with a tenderness that warmed her to her toes.

    
She gave him a quizzical look and
hesitated, torn by conflicting emotions, silent frustration gnawing at the back
of her throat. "You don't m-mind?"
 
She bit her lip until she tasted blood. "I thought it
would be easier . . . especially after, I mean, when I'm no longer here . .
."

    
Surprisingly, he didn't appear overly
upset. His smooth handling of the matter was confusing, and now she felt relief
mixed with crushing disappointment. Somewhere she'd harbored the secret wish
he'd fight for her. It was a silly white-knight dream, but all the same, her
heart ached when she considered that perhaps she didn't mean so much to him after
all.

    
Cal stroked his thumb across the palm of
her hand as his eyes blazed down into hers. "Sarah, we are both grown ups.
Nobody can stop us from being together whenever and however we want. If you
leave, I shall miss you. Very much," he added softly, hoarsely. "So
why not make the most of the time we have?" He smiled and bent to lightly
kiss her hair but at that moment she turned her face up at him, and the kiss
landed on her forehead.

    
All control was hopelessly lost when his
lips met warm smooth skin. Seemingly of their own volition, his arms encircled
her waist, drawing her closer to savor her scent, her softness. Not given to
wooing with honeyed words, Cal made love to her with his gaze; heated chocolate
eyes bored into her liquid green.

    
Cal's words echoed in Sarah's mind.
Why
not make the most of the time we have?
He still wanted her, and that knowledge, together with the ache of her own
need, melted Sarah's resolve to resist his caress. Her hands reached up,
studied the dark face, and wantonly buried themselves in the hair at the nape
of his neck. Desire flickered in his eyes as he brought his mouth down fully on
her lips, and branded her with a searing heat. She found herself responding
eagerly to the insistent probing of his tongue, building a need that swept like
prairie fire across her body. "Oh my," she exhaled breathlessly
when he finally pulled away.
 

   
He grinned, eyes filled with triumph in this small victory, and he
instantly decided that one more kiss wouldn't stampede the whole herd. In fact
he was sure could stop after just one more, in spite of her shaking like a leaf
in the wind.

    
But just as Cal was lowering his lips to
drink more of his sweet Sarah, a shout rang out.
 

    
It was Roy. He was yelling for Cal. And he
sounded mad. Bull-snorting-fire mad.

    
"Damn!" The spell was broken.
"This had better be good," he blurted.
 

    
Sarah felt the hollow feeling of abrupt
detachment when Cal reluctantly pushed away.
 

    
"Stay here." He lifted her hand
and kissed it before he darted out the door.
 

    
Sarah sighed, straightened her dress and
smoothed her hair. She didn't stay. Instead she walked back to the kitchen to
find Ned with Emily and Mama. Ned jumped as soon as he saw her, anxious to get
out the back door and find out what was causing -- as he described it
 
-- "as much commotion as a jackass
in a tin can."

                                                           
*
    
*
    
*

    
The pine-slatted crate was coated with
dried blood. Flies swarmed thick and black around it.

    
Cal met Roy, hands balled into fists at
his sides, and standing a good fifteen yards away from the wooden box.
 
Bailey and a cowhand stood alongside,
storms brewing on their faces, just outside the corral.

    
An awful stench drifted from the box,
which had "Eastons" sloppily written on the outside. As he edged
closer Cal realized that the 'paint' was also dried blood.

    
"What is it?" Cal's gaze flashed
curiously from the crate to Roy and back again.

    
Roy was taut with anger. "Dogged if I
know! Smith found this crate an hour ago, when he was riding the north border.
I met him dragging it back here. See for yourself." Roy stabbed his fist
at the smelly box.

    
Cal approached the mysterious coffin. The
smell of putrefying flesh forced him to retreat. He yanked the bandanna from
his neck and wrapped it around his mouth to mute the odor. Advancing a second
time, he peered inside. He paled and then flushed with anger. Therein were the
rotting carcasses of four steers, heads severed, along with a hide showing
their Mineral Creek brand. The remains looked to be a week or better old. Cal
backed away and barked out angry curses.

    
Ned ambled up; his gray eyes darkened when
he peered in at the carnage.

    
"Hell!" he choked, covering his
mouth.

   
Cal motioned raggedly. "Get rid of it." He turned back to Roy
and Ned, and the men strode away from the wonton butchery. They stopped when
the smell abated and lowered their bandannas.

    
"A threat from Dullen?"

    
Roy nodded. "I figure he was behind
the rustling. I got three messages from our inside man. We oughtta hear more
from the two we got working in town. He's trying to run us off." Roy wiped
his sleeve across his brow. He put his hands on his hips and watched as three
men attached ropes to drag the crate.

    
Frustration burned. "Dullen's a
bastard enemy," said Cal, "and even if we could prove it, mighty
scarce help would come from back-stabbin' Aiken."

    
"The hell with the law. We're our own
lookouts." Roy seethed. He pulled at his hat. Gray clouds
moving in from the west matched their moods.

    
Cal grunted and kicked at the dirt.
Between the ranch war with Dullen and Sarah's predicament he was beginning to
feel like a man trying to herd a thousand beefs to hell through a three-day
blizzard.

                                       
*
    
*
    
*

     
The next day the clouds opened up.
Ranch hands slogged about their chores, donned in dusters, hats pulled low against
the lashing. Inhaling the smell of cool, earthy summer rain, Sarah and Emily
ran out into the yard and set out buckets and pots to fill. Water from the sky,
Sarah believed, was better for washing than any to be had from the pump or
creek.

    
A bolt of lightning streaked from the
clouds to the ground. Thunder rattled the ranch house windows. Emily shrieked.
They ran faster, just catching themselves as they slipped up the steps and slid
across the porch. The girls scampered past the washstand, grabbing towels from
the stack as they flew by.

    
They were drying themselves in front of
the stove, sipping warm milk, when Cal and Roy and Ned came to get coffee. Mama
was the only dry person left on the spread.

    
"You two looked like a couple of
spring colts slopping in that gullywasher," Ned mused. They were all
looking at Sarah, and she noted curiously that they quickly averted their eyes
as she looked directly at each man. Roy cleared his throat.

    
Sarah, bewildered, looked down at herself.
Her wet skirt and petticoat were clinging to her legs. Her eyes continued
upward. She flushed crimson, realizing that her bodice and camisole were
stubbornly fixed to her breasts, revealing every curve, including the cold
stiffened tips. Cal took a duster from the
back of a chair, and held it out to her.

    
"Er, you look cold." He cast his
eyes discretely downward. Mortified, Sarah slipped on the oversized coat and
wrapped it snugly around her.

   
Thankfully the men went back to being preoccupied, and as grim as the
weather.

    
Cal's chair creaked as he leaned forward.
"Roy and I'd be pleased to step out with you ladies on Friday evening.
There's gonna be a social to meet the new schoolteacher. Everybody brings food,
and we can dance." He smiled expectantly at Sarah.

   
Emily was already flushed with excitement. "Oh! We've never been to
a social! Will you dance with me? Will all the handsome men dance with
Sarah?"

    
Roy and Ned laughed but Cal didn't think
it quite as funny. When he'd imagined Sarah dancing she had just one partner.

    
Roy quipped, "Well, sure, but only if
Cal don't hobble 'em. And you bet we'll dance with you." Sarah flushed.

    
Then Emily blurted, "If there's a
teacher, will I be able to go to school?"

    
Sarah flashed a stern look at her sister.
She wasn't to be so brazen in her expectations. But Cal winked at her and
drawled, "I expect so."

     
"Cloudburst is done," said
Roy, who was peering out the window. "We'd best be getting back to
work."

    
The men checked their weapons, excused
themselves and went out he back door.

    
Sarah removed the coat, and the girls
quietly turned back to the stove to finish drying. An invisible arrow pierced
her heart.
 

    
"Oh Emily, we can't go. We don't have
nice dresses."
 

    
Emily's face crumpled. "Why not just
wear the ones we have?" she tried innocently. "I want to meet the
schoolteacher."

    
But Sarah looked serious. "Everyone
will be wearing fine party dresses," she soberly explained. "We don't
have any suitable." Out of the corner of one eye she saw mama blinking. As
was now her habit, Sarah picked up the pencil and paper on the table and began
'listening'.