Page 75 of Hidden Fires

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“Awright. I’m agoin’. Jes’ tryin’ to be neighborly like.” He sauntered to the mangy horse and mounted in front of his sister. She hooked her thumbs into his belt. Her fingers brushed the front of his trousers as she cooed, “Who’s Rudy been sleepin’ with, Miz Lockett, now that his wife is laid up havin’ babies?”

Rudy reached for his gun, but Lauren put out a restraining arm. “No, Rudy,” she whispered, for she had seen Duncan’s hand moving to the far side of the horse where a shotgun was strapped. She was grateful to see that the word had spread among the vaqueros that the disreputable pair were there and that many of them were moving into place, virtually surrounding the miscreants.

The girl tossed her long white hair and laughed, confident that Rudy wouldn’t draw on her brother. “Tell Jared I come axin’ about him. I’d like to see him when he gets back.” She looked at Lauren and snorted. Duncan pulled the reins of the horse around and they clopped out of the yard, obviously in no hurry to leave.

The vaqueros and Rudy watched until they were out of sight, then Rudy commissioned two hands to follow them and make sure that they returned to their camp.

When he came back into the large room, Lauren was sitting staring into the fire. He crossed to her and took both of her cold hands into his as he squatted down in front of her. “Lauren, Jared has never had anything to do with that dirty slut.”

Lauren smiled at his kind, sympathetic face. “I know that. He has no affection for me,” she confessed wryly, “but I know his taste in women would be more discriminating than that.” Maria and Gloria had moved over to them and were listening anxiously to the conversation. “What worries me,” Lauren continued, “is what Duncan said about Vandiver and his heavies being in Pueblo.”

“Yes, that bothers me, too, but not as much as his knowing about everything that is going on in this house. He is trouble and no doubt about it. Ben would have had him shot on sight if he had come here before, and I may regret that I didn’t. How did he know you?”

Lauren told them about the day she and Jared had gone to Pecan Creek and passed through the charcoal burners’ camp on their way home.

“Rudy, I’m frightened,” Gloria said.

He stood and put his arm around his wife, who had been up out of bed only one day. “I’m sure he’s just testing our authority now that Ben’s gone. There’s no need to worry. Jared and I’ll talk it over and decide what’s to be done about them. I don’t like having that scum anywhere on Keypoint.”

The lines around his mouth were grim and he stayed near the house for the rest of the day, though he tried not to appear nervous. Lauren noticed that for the next few days, three or four vaqueros were posted around the house. Despite his reassurances, Rudy was still worried about Wat Duncan.

* * *

Holding true to the dire predictions, the unseasonably mild weather of January gave way to blindingly cold storms in February. There was little that could be done on the ranch in such weather, and Lauren felt sorry for the vaqueros whose turn it was to ride out and check on the vast acreage of Keypoint. They always took plenty of provisions, planning to spend days at a time in one of the line cabins built for just that purpose.

Those in the house confined themselves to entertaining the children, caring for the demanding twins, and sewing and baking for the family and the idle cowboys in the bunkhouse.

It was on one

such late-evening excursion to the bunkhouse to deliver a batch of cookies that Thorn approached Lauren. The basket had been gratefully received by the vaqueros and she was scurrying back across the compound toward the house when the Comanche loomed out of the deep shadows to stand directly in front of her.

She managed to stifle a startled scream by covering her lips with her hand.

Without preamble or apology, he said, “Mrs. Lockett, I found this on the gate this morning.”

She hadn’t known what to expect his voice to sound like, but it was low and deep, almost cultured. She found herself staring up into the implacable mask of his face. Then she looked down at the crude package he had extended to her.

The bundle was wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string. On it had been childishly scrawled Miz Lokit. “What…?” she said, looking into Thorn’s face again.

“I believe it’s something that belongs to you.”

She slipped the string away and opened the paper. The kerchief she had wrapped around Crazy Jack’s ankle was caught by the cold wind and nearly ripped from her hand. When she had grabbed it back, she saw that it had been washed and folded. All traces of blood were gone. Her lips tilted into a secret smile. Who would have expected the old hermit to meticulously launder her scarf? Had he chanced being seen to return it to her? He must have.

Lauren was suddenly aware that Thorn was staring at her closely. “I… I must have lost this somewhere,” she stuttered. “I guess someone found it and… returned it. Thank you.”

The Indian’s eyes didn’t waver, and she sensed that he knew more than that stoic face revealed. He didn’t speak again, but acknowledged her thanks by a quick jerk of his chin. Lauren didn’t realize he had moved away from her until his form was swallowed up by the descending darkness.

* * *

The third week of February, they saw the first snowfall. It had threatened for about a week with fierce north winds bringing rain, freezing drizzle, and enough sleet to coat the ground.

As the storm increased its fury after nightfall, Rudy, Gloria, Maria, and Lauren sat around the fireplace enjoying the peace and quiet that descended as soon as the children were put to bed. Gloria had nursed little Lauren and handed her to her namesake. Lauren held the baby on her chest, stroking the small, dark head under her chin. Gloria was appeasing Benjamin’s hearty appetite while Rudy and Maria looked on lovingly.

They all jumped in startled reaction when they heard heavy boots thudding across the porch. Still edgy about the charcoal burners, Rudy reached for his holster, which was hanging over the mantel, pulled out the Colt, and had almost reached the door when it was flung open, accompanied by a gust of snow-laden wind.

Chapter 21

The looming figure entered, closing the door quickly behind him. He turned slowly and Lauren gasped when she recognized her husband under his heavy clothing. He followed the sound of her reaction and almost repeated it as he saw her sitting in the glow of the fire, hair tumbled around her shoulders and down her back, holding the baby at her breast. He stood as if struck dumb.


Tags: Sandra Brown Historical