Angel's Embrace Page 25

  “I suppose, in time, we’ll move beyond this horrible loss,” she whimpered.

  “You’re stronger now, Mama,” he replied quietly. “You have Carlton, and Olivia. And you’ll always have me, too.”

  She sniffled. “I suppose you’ll go on back to the Malloy ranch now? It—it’s a wonderful thing, the way they’ve promoted you to—”

  Over Mama’s shoulder, he caught Carlton Harte’s sly expression, as though the detective knew yet another secret he wasn’t ready to reveal. “Who knows, sweetheart?” he said, rubbing his wife’s shoulders. “Now that no one lives in your old home, maybe Billy’ll move back there. It’s still an ideal property for raising horses. And a family.”

  There it was again: the blatant hint that he should restore the house and business his daddy had built—and with a wife, too! Just as well Eve wasn’t here to listen to this, or she’d start working on him.

  Would that be so horrible? came that wise, patient voice in his head. She’s a wonderful mother now . . . you adore your niece. Malloy has given you his blessing. What more do you want?

  “I’ve got a lot to think about,” Billy murmured.

  As he eased away from his mother, he saw the Pinkterton operative’s expression tighten, noted Harte’s eyes narrowing as he watched a pair of men walking toward the same train they were about to board. Both fellows had an air of bravado about them. Although one was dark and stocky while his younger companion was slender and fair, it was easy to see they’d worked together for a long time.

  “All aboard!” the station master cried, and the train at the platform let out a large, hissing cloud of steam. Mercy and Temple ushered the three girls ahead of them, while Michael extended his hand.

  “Best of luck to you, Carlton,” he said. “We hope to hear good things about whichever business you buy. And we wish you every blessing as you settle into Richmond.”

  “We can’t thank you enough, Malloy—”

  “Yes. Yes, it was a lovely service you and Lily gave,” Mama replied with a tearful smile. “You and Mercy have been so kind to our family. Thank you—thank you so much for all you’ve provided Billy and Christine.”

  Malloy’s smile crinkled around his eyes. Crows feet cut deeper into his face these days, yet they reflected a depth of character Billy believed in. With a final wave, he followed Michael toward the platform where the girls were now boarding—until Harte grabbed his arm.

  “Be aware that Frank and Jesse James got on ahead of you,” the detective murmured. “It’s a good sign that they boarded like normal passengers, rather than holding up the train somewhere along the tracks.”

  He saw an eagerness in the detective’s eyes, as though he’d love to go aboard and single-handedly capture those notorious outlaws. When Billy stepped into the passenger car, he realized he was going to walk right past the James brothers on the way to his seat. He looked them over from beneath the brim of his hat as he waited in the crowded aisle.

  The younger one, Jesse, focused intense blue eyes on him. Stared for quite a lot longer than was polite.

  He thinks you’re Wesley—yet sees some differences. He’ll keep an eye on you, because knowing who’s around him has kept him alive this long.

  Billy nodded to the pair as he followed the line of passengers past them, and they returned his silent greeting.

  What was it that had made these ordinary-looking men go bad? Why did they feel their mission was to shoot and steal from innocent people, and then brag about it in the Kansas City paper? They—and the Youngers—had the governor and the Pinkertons so riled up, trying to bring them to justice, that their mother Zerelda had lost her youngest son and part of an arm during an attack on their home. A bungled raid that put a large scar on the Pinkertons’ already ailing reputation.

  Billy thanked God that he’d never had such notions, or the yen to rob the rich and repay the poor—when “the poor” mostly included the thugs in their notorious gang. He’d had enough troubles without stirring up more!

  The train trip back to Abilene gave him time to ponder them. It was a quiet ride in the wake of Wesley’s funeral; much less enjoyable because Eve wasn’t entertaining the girls. It was pure joy to watch her create pictures with such quick, confident strokes of her pencil and paint brush. All the while, she’d been explaining a principle of depth perception or how to mix colors to an exact shade—skills he’d never had the knack for—to the three girls who watched and listened so eagerly.

  He would forever treasure the painting Eve had given him. Because he missed the sound of her voice above the clackety-clackety-clack of the train, Billy pulled the small picture from his valise to study it.

  Once again he felt the breeze those bright red poppies were waving in, and the coolness of the shade that invited him up to the gallery porch. He heard the contented creak of the swing and the warbling of mockingbirds; caught a whiff of lilacs and Mama’s roses. It was almost as though he’d never been away. His eyes went wet.

  “Miss Eve, she surely can bring a place to life, cain’t she?”

  Asa, sitting beside him, had phrased that very cleverly. Did all these folks know something they weren’t telling him?

  “She sees things the way she wants them to be,” Billy replied. “The way they ought to be, in this case.”

  “Cryin’ shame, the way your brother let that house go to ruin,” Asa continued. “Didn’t know the man, but I’s awful glad it were you who showed up at Judd and Mercy’s on that stagecoach, rather than Wesley. Lord only knows what mighta happened with him around!”

  There it was again: that wistful “what if” that had pestered him ever since he’d seen his brother again. What if he’d been the boy the Border Ruffians had snatched?

  “I’d’ve curled in on myself and died, if those horse thieves had taken me,” he murmured. “Too much a scaredy-cat to—”

  “Oh, Billy, you do go on so!” Solace teased matter-of-factly. She sat across the aisle, leaning forward to look around Grace. “You’re not scared of a dang thing that I know of! Why, you taught me the meanin’ of ‘double-dog dare’ and you made good on it every time! You didn’t flinch an inch when Wesley Bristol rode right at you, neither! And we all know how he shot first and asked questions later.”

  His heart hitched. He gazed into that open face, so much tanner than the two around her, and was amazed at her view of him. Solace had been his girl since she was big enough to sit a horse in front of him—no, really since the day he’d helped birth her—but he’d never realized how much she idolized him. Looked up to him for every little thing.

  And if this whippersnapper of a tomboy—a crack shot and budding stunt rider at seven—considered him big and brave, well—why should he doubt it? Why was he so uneasy about the idea of moving back into his boyhood home—perhaps with Eve and Olivia—and other little redheaded children of his own someday?

  Again his heart lurched. Or was that the train, slowing for a stop?

  “I cain’t see Miss Solace sayin’ such things ’bout nobody else, Mister Billy,” Asa murmured beside him. “So you’d best b’lieve her. And live up to her opinion.”

  Ah, there was the rub! It seemed to Billy that lately, Emma and Eve had certain visions—expectations of him—and he’d fallen short. So why should he entertain this notion of going back—

  “But you know,” Solace continued, planting her head on her hand, “that if you move away from the Triple M, you’ll have to take me! And Snowy and Spot! ’Cause we’ve never had to get along without you, Billy. And I don’t wanna start now.”

  Those dark eyes pierced his heart. Solace, with her innocent bravado, had brought up an important point: If he did return to Missouri, he’d have to say good-bye to all he’d known and loved while growing up with this patchwork family. He’d leave behind Asa’s pies, and Sunday dinners nobody else could cook the way Mercy did—those Morgans he’d foaled and trained from the day their feet first hit the ground—evening devotions that had been the bedrock of his faith—
not to mention the man who’d invited him into this family and then made him the mainstay of his ranch.

  And it was Michael who addressed Solace now, with a smile that twitched his mustache. “You know what, Solace? Someday you’ll grow up and go away to school—”

  Her nose crinkled in distaste.

  “—or you’ll get married and move into your own home—”

  She rolled her eyes this time.

  “—but even though we’ll all miss you, that’s part of growing up—finding your own way, and the place God intends for you to fill,” he said emphatically. “Billy’s hearing a lot of opinions right now about what he should do. And when he makes his decision—go or stay—we’ll honor it. Billy’s special, and he has a lot to accomplish for God in his lifetime—and for himself, as well.”

  “And even though we love him,” Mercy added, her face showing a kaleidoscope of emotions, “we might have to let him go. It’s a lesson we all learn several times in our lives.”

  His throat went dry at the looks on their faces. Every one of these folks held a special place in his heart, and there wasn’t a one of them he wouldn’t take along, if he left.

  When they finally drove through the arched entry gate at the Triple M, and the two border collies raced out to greet their carriage, Billy saw another complication: sure, the dogs were his, but how could he take them away from Solace? Did he dare take one and not the other, thinking these constant companions of ten years would thrive apart? Spot’s dark face now sported a muzzle gone gray, and Snowy showed signs of rheumatism in her haunches.

  They followed him to sit on the river bank after the horse chores were done for the day. And with a panting dog leaning into him on either side, with the quiet burbling of the Smoky Hill River and the wind whispering in the cottonwood leaves, Billy tried to sort things out. He felt a distinct yearning—a clock ticking inside him, reminding him that time marched on in every life. When it came to raising horses, he made decisions without batting an eye. But this—this was a matter more far-reaching than training a dependable mount.

  This was his life! His future was at hand, and the crossroads he found himself at felt crucial. It was the most important choice he’d had to consider since, well—since he felt the love in Judd and Mercy Monroe’s smiles when they invited him into their home. They’d all known Christine would make her life elsewhere, but Billy had put down serious roots here.

  “But you know, pups,” he murmured, watching the first fiery rays of the sunset dance on the water, “Gabe’s already moved to St. Louis to start his law job—and Christine’s raisin’ babies and designin’ dresses in San Francisco—and Eve’s decided to live with her mother, now that Wesley’s gone.

  “Not sure what Emma’s gonna do, but she doesn’t figure in anymore, does she?” he reasoned aloud. “I—I guess I’ve already made my choice there—even before she told me flat-out to leave. And like Lily read to us from the Scripture at Wes’s service, there’s a time for everything, every purpose under God’s heaven. And maybe He’s givin’ me the boot.”

  Spot grunted, nudging his soft head beneath Billy’s hand for a scratching. Snowy looked steadily at him, her pink tongue lolling out in the evening heat. Her eyes were clouding with age, yet she looked ever alert. He swore these dogs understood every word he said—and they’d certainly understood him all their lives.

  He sat quietly then, listening to the summer insect songs, watching the blazing ball of sun disappear in the west, listening for whatever wisdom the wind whispered.

  “We’d better go in and write a letter to Christine,” he murmured, shifting slowly so the dogs could get up first. “Maybe one to Gabe, too, since he’ll want to know what’s goin’ on here. Pretty amazin’, when you think how much has happened since he left.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Dear Christine,

  There’s no pretty way to say this, and maybe you’ve already heard from Mama. And you know me—I don’t cotton to a lot of chitchat.

  Wesley’s dead, Sis.

  Just got back from burying him beside Daddy, and my heart’s heavy on a lot of counts. You see, the past few weeks have been pretty much one lightning strike after another—and it all started when Eve Massena had her baby in the back of the church while Emma and I were supposed to be getting married!

  You know me and babies. This one looks exactly like Wesley and I did, Mama says, because, well—it’s Wes’s child. He went back on his promise to marry Eve, so she got kicked out of her home in disgrace. Her daddy hanged himself a while back, too, after some crooked dealings with Wes circled back to bite him. Eve came looking for me, thinking I’d help her out.

  Well, something told me Eve got there when she did because I wasn’t supposed to marry Emma in the first place. Of course, I caused a major upset by announcing this. Emma’s had some pretty vile things to say to me ever since—except I found out she tore up a letter Eve had sent me last spring. And she tore up a picture of our home place in Richmond, which Eve had painted for me, too. I didn’t think Emma could be that mean. She hasn’t been the same since her mother died.

  Anyway, I just had to see Wesley again, after all those years of not knowing if he was still alive—and of course, Mama had the same idea. Sad to say, he was holed up at our house and escorted Eve and me out of the yard by shooting at us. He at least came out and spoke to Mama when she brought him a pie Beulah Mae baked (in her own shop, I hear!) but then he threatened to come after Eve and me if Mama didn’t leave him alone.

  He made good on that threat anyway. Set fire to the unfinished house Emma and I were to live in, and then hit the Triple M, too. Scared the horses out of the stables and charged at me with his shotgun. In the blink of an eye, Solace had shot his horse, and Carlton, from the roof, shot Wes to keep me alive. It was a night I’ll never forget.

  We got Wes a nice casket and took him home to bury him. Carlton’s looking for a business to buy in Richmond, so Mama can be close to her new granddaughter, Olivia, and Eve has made up with her mother.

  I’ve all but decided to move back home, Sis. The house is in terrible shape, the pasture’s a weed patch—it would mean nothing but hard work for a long time, to build the place up again. And, as you know, I owe Michael and Mercy for SO much. I’m their main man on the ranch. And the girls are squawking about how they don’t want me to leave. And I don’t know what to do about the dogs.

  Sorry. Told you my news wasn’t very pretty. But Mama’s holding up pretty well, all things considered. I just thought you should know about Wesley. I hope life out your way is much happier, and I bet Rachel and Rebecca are more than a handful by now! Tell them Uncle Billy says hey.

  Billy rubbed his eyes. His shoulders sagged from too many long, painful days and restless nights, so he left the letter on the floor beside his bed. With Joel gone, the room they shared felt empty. Airless. Very sad, and full of more questions than answers about the boy’s travels—and his own future path. Mike hadn’t gotten any telegrams back from the ones he’d sent along the rail line, and didn’t really expect to.

  Billy put out the lamp and lay back on his narrow bed. He realized that if he went back to Richmond, that house—his old room—would feel just as forlorn as when Wesley had first been snatched.

  It would require a lot of money and attention to set the place to rights. It would be a long, lonely job without the company of these people he’d spent the past ten years with. And even though he’d socked away most of his pay, Billy wasn’t sure he’d have enough money to start up his own horse business while making the house livable again.

  So many decisions . . . so many sides to this story . . . so many opinions from everyone who loved him. He drifted off, finally, but only after he’d made a mental list of reasons to go, and reasons to stay—

  Spot and Snowy were barking something fierce, and when Billy rolled out of bed, he realized morning was well under way. Squinting out the window, he saw four border collies all circling to greet each other—and then he s
aw why Gabe and Emma’s dogs had joined his own.

  Billy swallowed hard. Emma was driving a wagon piled high with furniture from their little log house, and her father slumped in the seat of the loaded buckboard he was driving behind her. Their faces were set in grim, determined expressions as they lumbered past the entry arch to the Triple M, into the glare of the sun.

  They didn’t even look toward the house.

  Billy stepped into his pants and grabbed his shirt on the way to the stairs. By the time he’d sprinted through the house and across the front porch, Mercy and the girls were following him to see what the ruckus was about.

  “Emma!” he called out. “Emma! George! Wait for me, will ya?”

  The blonde he’d almost married barely glanced his way: only the presence of all the dogs in the road forced her to slow down. Billy ran alongside her wagon until he caught up, his heart pounding from more than his foot race in the heat.

  “Where ya headed?” he panted. “Looks like—”

  “That’s none of your concern now, is it?” she replied. Her expression looked icy, but he saw the clench in her jaw, like she was trying not to cry. “After the way you made a fool of me in front of all our friends—and the way your brother burned down the house—what’s left for me here? Daddy don’t have the heart to farm this hard old ground anymore, after two seasons of losing our crop to the grasshoppers. So we’re leavin’.”

  “And where will you go?” Mercy was still catching up, her apron flapping around her body. Solace and Grace trotted alongside her. “I—if you’d only asked, we could’ve helped you.”

  “What’s done is done. It’s been a downhill slide since my mother died, and . . . and we just haven’t found a way to keep it goin’.” She blinked rapidly, and tears left wet trails down her cheeks. “Daddy’s got a sister livin’ in Illinois. Reckon we’ll go back to where there’s family.”

  Billy’s insides burned with guilt and remorse. He hopped up to the wagon seat. “But you’ve proved up on your place and—”