Ethan's Wild Rose Bride (Texas Frontier Brides Book 2) Page 9

  The doors swung open and Ethan entered. She watched as his eyes searched the room until he found her. He offered a brief nod and then took a seat near the front. She knew he wanted to be close to the action if anything started up. Please let this meeting be civil, Lord. All the town needed was to stir up old trouble. It had been five years since the last dilemma for the town.

  Hallie turned her eyes to see Caleb Hatcher walk through the swinging doors. For the first time since entering the saloon, she felt a small flame of hope kindle in her heart. Caleb Hatcher was the former sheriff of Chance. He had helped save the town from certain disaster only a few years before. Surely, he would be able to talk sense above the destructive anger that might erupt during the meeting. Please let them listen to him, Lord.

  Hallie coughed and waved away the clouds of silver smoke that drifted in front of her face. The rancher sitting in front of her was already settling in for the meeting, cigar lit and another two on the tabletop in front of him. Drinks might not have been allowed, but several of the men were lighting up their cigars and pipes. It might seem a longer meeting than she imagined.

  ***

  “We’d better get this meeting started,” Sheriff Tabor announced, his loud voice echoing around the lumber-clad walls.

  Chatter began to fade and in a few moments, the room was silent, save the squeaking of wooden chairs, and constant coughing from some of the attendees. Hallie hoped none of them had anything contagious.

  “As all of you know, there have been a few sightings of a Comanche brave in the area. And I don’t mean the few of our settlers that carry some redskin blood.”

  Hallie winced at his words. They probably weren’t meant to stir up trouble, but people took the reference in different ways. It wasn’t so much the words he used, but the tone of his voice. Anyone with a drop of Indian blood was probably more than a little upset at this turn of events.

  “This fellow is dressed in buckskin and is carrying a rifle.”

  Hallie sighed as murmurs went through the room. If the sheriff didn’t get on with it, he was going to start stirring up old fears. And that would make the situation very dangerous.

  “Has he hurt or threatened anyone?” a voice came from near the bar.

  The sheriff shook his head. “Not that I know of. At least. . .not yet.”

  Hallie felt a flicker of anger in her stomach. This man was going to get everyone worked up to a fight. The meeting had only just begun, yet his purpose was obvious. She felt a small wave of relief when Caleb Hatcher stood and removed his hat. He cleared his throat. “I don’t see any need for folks to get so worked up about this,” he said, his voice strong and loud.

  Hallie smiled. Caleb was a tall man with a commanding presence. Surely the crowd would listen to his words of wisdom.

  “A Comanche is back on our properties and you don’t see any reason for concern? That’s easy for you to say seeing as you weren’t here when they were on the warpath,” a rancher near Hallie contested.

  Caleb turned and confronted the speaker. “I know I wasn‘t here back then, Harland. But man hasn’t hurt anyone. For all we know he’s just hunting a little bit before he passes on through the area.”

  “Not likely,” another voice argued “The tribe has moved on out west. No need for them to be here anymore. I think he might be up to some trouble.”

  Hallie felt a tremor go through her as more voices joined in, seeming to agree with the last speaker. If they worked up enough anger, they would be on the hunt for this man and his wife by tomorrow. Everything inside of her screamed to run outside, jump on Satin, and go look for this couple. Warn them. But how could she do such a thing? She had only a slight idea of where they were camped. She turned her eyes to the front of the room. Ethan Kane knew where they were. But would he tell her if she asked?

  “You were out west, Hatcher,” the sheriff said over the other voices. “Surely you saw atrocities that are unnamable that were done by these savages. What’s wrong with you? We have our homes and families to think of. And so do you.” The crowd seemed to calm, waiting for Caleb to speak.

  Hallie watched as the former lawman moved from his table and walked to the front of the room. He stood near the sheriff and tossed his hat to the bar. She smiled. It appeared that he was going to speak for more than just a moment. And she hoped the words would pound some sense into some of the headstrong majority in the room. Get them stirred up enough and there would be nothing but trouble ahead.

  Caleb waited until the room was quiet. “It‘s true, I was out west of here for a few years with the Cavalry. Sure, it was bad. And I’ve heard the stories about what happened here so many years ago. But not so long ago that none can remember some of it,” he added as the murmurings began again. “I also saw more than my share of evil and violence in the war that ended less than twenty years ago. Brother killing brother, neighbor out to do away with his own townsmen.”

  He cleared his throat again. “But we can’t live our lives as if the past is still happening. Too many seem willing to blame this lone man for things that they have no proof that he’s done. That’s not how the law works, as the Sheriff Tabor well knows,” Caleb nodded to the man before continuing. “I see no reason for all of you to be so upset. There hasn’t been any sort of uprising in this area since the tragedy in 1850.”

  “So why do you think he’s here?”

  Hallie tried to spot the speaker, but whoever it was had faded back into the crowd. She turned her eyes to Caleb and waited.

  He shrugged. “No one knows. Maybe he’s just tired and is resting for a few days.”

  Voices rose so high that Hallie had a hard time picking out any words. But the rage in the room was palpable as it mingled with the haze that burned her eyes. If this crowd went after the couple, the two old ones would have no chance. She picked up her hat and began making her way around the side wall, to the door. She would be ready to start her own search at dawn. Maybe, just maybe there was a way to make them understand that they must leave.

  Out the door, the warm night air seemed cool compared to the rage that boiled inside the building. She leaned against the rough hewn wall for a moment and stared up at the stars. Loud voices still touched her ears, but just being out in the wide open space of nature gave her a small amount of comfort.

  She untied Satin from among the string of horses down Main Street. In the saddle, she gave a good kick and they were on their way, the evening air rushing past her ears, caressing her cheeks with the soft breeze. She tried to pray, but nothing came to mind. Once those citizens made up their mind to something, it was hard to deal with them. Part of her hoped that Ethan had stood and tried to talk some sense into the group. But, unlike Caleb, he was a quiet man, given more to observing than participation.

  Chapter 16

  She pulled the second batch of biscuits from the oven and replaced them in the hot box with a tin of cornbread. She dumped the pan of hot bread on a plate and set it near the window.

  Once all the food was cooked and cooled, she would pack it up in bundles for the husband and wife. She had an extra blanket ready for them, as well as a few apples and some dried peaches. If they must leave, she would not ask them to leave hungry. But please, Lord, let them leave unharmed.

  She stared out the window, up toward Ethan’s place. She had never seen a light in his window last night, even though she had been up through the long dark hours. Surely he had not stayed in town all night. But those meetings did tend to go on and on. A jolt of nerves swam in her stomach and she turned away and began to busy herself with other things. The more she thought about possible trouble ahead, the worse her stomach would become.

  ***

  Hallie carefully wrapped the cooled cornbread in a piece of brown paper, tying it securely with string. She put it in the poke with the other bundles of food and carried the bag out to Satin, saddled and ready for her to leave.

  The sun was barely above the horizon when she took a last look at her house, put her foot in th
e stirrup and pulled herself up. She secured her hat tighter to her head and took off toward the back of her property. The first warmth of the day was beginning to brew. Satin seemed as nervous as she felt, twitching and dancing around every stray twig or blowing leaf that showed itself. She slowed the horse and patted her neck. “It’s going to be alright, girl. This won’t take too long, I hope,’ she said, as she turned into the scrubby woods that ran along the west side of the ranch.

  Inside the dense thicket of trees, the air was cooler. A shiver ran down her back and she drew her arms closer to her sides. She gripped the reins tighter and the leather all but cut into her fingers. This was no time to doubt herself. She was only going to warn them. But how was she going to do that? It would be unlikely that either of the two could speak English. And while she knew a smattering of German and Spanish, she had no knowledge of Comanche, or whatever Indian language they might speak.

  She rode on for another half hour until they were in a small clearing. She slowed Satin, looking around, trying to get her bearings. The sound of running water reached her ears and she knew that she was near the back branch of the property. An offshoot of Chance Creek, it stayed full most of the year, except during times of drought. She urged Satin to her left, guiding the horse slowly as they entered another woody patch. Once again, the coolness blanketed her shoulders. But this time she wasn’t afraid. She had a duty to help these people, if at all possible.

  Staying near the stream, they followed a narrow, cleared pathway. Hallie reined the animal in for a moment and studied the ground beneath them. The trampled grass appeared to have been walked often. And she wasn’t the one that had used it. Had Ethan been back here? No. There were no boot prints. It had to be the brave, she was sure of it. This was the right trail.

  Rounding the curve in the path, she pulled Satin to a halt. Twenty feet to the left of the bank was a squared off stone walled patch. Inside of the wall were the graves of the four Forge family members, buried exactly where they were found by local citizens after the raid.

  She swung down and walked to the burial place of the murdered family. She had spent many an hour here when she was a child, putting flowers on the graves, keeping the area cleaned. But once Father had found out about her adventures, she had been forbidden to return. After that, she was sure that the little graveyard had grown up into nothing more than a scrubby area.

  But today, the site appeared to be kept, the ground swept clean, the stones stacked neatly across the mounds. She stared at the graves. She was wrong. It was Ethan that had been back here, walking along that trail. There was no other explanation for the pristine condition of the small cemetery.

  A twinge of grief struck her as she remembered the story. And poor Lettie. Had she been killed and dumped somewhere out in these woods and never found, or had she been taken and kept by the Comanche warriors?

  She shook away her sadness. The story had always haunted her, kept her up many a night when she was growing up. Maybe she had feared such a fate for herself. Or maybe her mother was right and she just had a vivid imagination. Whatever the reason, she had always felt a small bit of kinship with the lost Forge girl.

  Memories of her own childhood came sweeping across her mind, and she knelt beside the grave of Mrs. Forge. A woman who had braved the Texas wilderness with her husband, working hard beside him, only to be struck down, her life cut short. What had she been like? What sort of dreams had she had for her children? No doubt, the boys were to take over the ranch. But Lettie would be bound for something else.

  Local legend told that she was a beautiful girl, tall and well built, her eyes the color of Texas Bluebells. The most popular girl at local dances, destined to marry well and raise a family in the area.

  Hallie wiped away that tears that burned her eyelids and slid down her cheeks. It was silly to let herself sink into misery over the life of someone she had never met. Over an event that had happened long before she was born. Whatever had become of Lettie, God knew about her.

  A sound caught her ear and her heart stilled as a worn moccasin stopped beside her. Every fiber in her body stiffened as she forced herself to look into the eyes of the gray-haired Indian man she and Ethan had seen last week.

  This near to him, she could see the age in his face more clearly than from the distance she had first seen him. The lines around his dark, almond-shaped eyes, were deep and long. But the brown of his eyes was clear and bright, as eyes of a younger man. And his expression, though stern, seemed almost kind. He extended his hand down to her.

  She took a deep breath and put her hand in his, willing herself not to tremble. It seemed wrong for him to see the fear that she felt. The words of people from the ranch meeting in town began to circulate inside of her head. Massacre, scalping, capture. . .they all swirled around.

  “Come,” he spoke as he let go of her hand.

  Startled from her thoughts, she realized that he had spoken in English.

  “You. . .you understand English?”

  He shook his head and pointed on up the trail. “Come.”

  She followed after him, stopping to grab Satin’s reins as she passed her. The horse walked quietly behind them, the older man seemed deep in thought and barely glanced at her.

  Was he taking her to his camp? He hadn’t threatened her in any way, yet she had felt compelled to go with him, as if refusing would have grieved him. “Where are we going,” she asked.

  He turned to her for a moment, never missing a step. “Come.”

  She sighed. Maybe that was the only English word he knew. She hoped his wife would know a few more.

  He walked slow and stiff, as if his legs were tired and aching. Hallie prayed that he was not ill. And that his intentions were not unkind. She could think of no reason why he might want her to come with him, but it had been her intention to find him, so maybe things were working out.

  They rounded a clump of cedar trees and she spotted the makeshift lean-to that Ethan had mentioned to her. A small, smoky fire was smoldering twenty feet out from the little shelter.

  The man stopped and she did likewise, her eyes roaming the area in front of them. Where was his wife? Or whoever the woman was that Ethan mentioned.

  The man turned and his dark eyes met hers. She stared into his gaze, trying to read his stoic expression. What looked like a tear formed in his left eye and he turned away and once again, started walking toward the shelter. Hallie followed.

  He stopped in front of the lean-to and motioned for Hallie to step inside.

  She dropped Satin’s reins and walked inside the little brushy shelter. Her feet touched a smooth dirt floor, swept clean of any twigs or small rocks. The light was dim and it took a few moments before her eyes adjusted. The strong odors of grease, urine, and sickness assaulted her nose. Her eyes went at once to the heap of textiles near the right side of the small hut. She waited as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light. A slight movement among the rags caught her eye. Hallie gasped. The woman was so small that she was barely noticeable among the pile of filthy blankets that were heaped around to her.

  Hallie glanced at the ancient man. He motioned her toward his wife. She swallowed hard and her heart drummed in her ears as she knelt beside the woman that was bundled in dirty rags.

  The cloth was coarse and rough on her fingers as she pulled it away from the woman’s face. Sunburned skin stretched over a bony skull. What little hair she had barely covered her scalp. Thin white wisps floated around her face, like dandelion fuzz in the spring time.

  Without glancing at the man, she spoke, hoping he know more words than the one she had heard from him. “How long has she…” her voice trailed away.

  Blue eyes with traces of purple, the color of Texas spring wildflowers, met her own. Hallie’s heart hammered in her chest and her breath caught in her throat. This woman was no Comanche. She was a white woman.

  Chapter 17

  Hallie took the pail of warm water from the man and continued to wash the woman. Those blue eye
s followed everything that she did, but there had been no words from her mouth.

  “When we get you cleaned up, you’re going to feel much better,” Hallie chatted. There was nothing she could do to help this woman get well, but the least she could do was make her comfortable than she had been lying here in the dirt and filth.

  “I’ll be right back,” she offered an encouraging smile. The woman’s eyes followed her as she headed for the doorway. Outside, the man was squatting near the fire, a small pot of liquid simmered and he was stirring it with a stick. He stood as she came out and stared at her. Hallie smiled and shook her head. He was probably afraid that she would leave. He obviously wanted her help.

  She retrieved the extra blanket from Satin, along with the bundles of food. At the fire, she unwrapped the food for him to see. He took a piece of the cornbread and nodded.

  Inside, Hallie folded one of the older blankets and put it under the woman’s head. She then wrapped the blanket she had brought from home over the now-clean woman.

  A slight smile crossed the sick woman’s face and Hallie returned it with one of her own. At least she seemed to realize that Hallie was there to help. “My name is Hallie,” she said. She should have introduced herself sooner, but the shock of realizing that the woman was a white woman had sent her senses reeling.

  The woman’s mouth opened and a voice, old, and cracked answered her. “I. . .Le. . .Le. . .see. . .”

  Hallie strained to hear her. Lettuce? That was what the word sounded like. Why would she. . . .“Lettie? Did you say that your name is Lettie?” Just saying the words had her heart beating in her mouth. Was it possible?