Thirty-six

The next morning, the Ledbetter family waited in the early light while Lara kissed Henry’s cheek and told him to be good. Big tears filled his eyes, until Houston took him aside, giving him his pay in the entire amount promised at the end of the trail. Pride flared in Henry’s eyes at being treated like a man. Lara wrapped the money in a cloth and tied it around him beneath his shirt, then Henry hugged them one last time.

Sarah Ledbetter broke from the women and whispered to Lara, “I saw questions in your eyes. Just love your man. Everything else will fall into place.”

Lara glanced at Houston, tall beside her with his arm around her waist. “I will.” Whatever they had to face, they’d do it together—including any fear at making love.

Henry joined the children, waving his arm off. Lara tried to swallow the lump in her throat but it wouldn’t budge. Nor could she until Gracie hollered, reaching for her papa. He took the child, kissing her chubby cheek. Gracie patted his face, chattering like a magpie. Lara walked arm in arm with Houston to the chuck wagon, grateful for the warmth he lent, hoping it would chase away the chill inside that Henry’s parting had left.

Kissing her, Houston boosted her up onto the wagon seat. “You and Caroline stay ahead of the herd. We’ll be behind. I’ll check on you often. We’ll not stop until probably nine or ten o’clock tonight. The men can eat jerky and hardtack for supper.”

Lara nodded. He handed Gracie up and she sat the child on her lap, giving her a rag doll she’d made to replace the other. “Please be safe, Houston.”

“My thoughts will be on you and tonight when we can be together.”

As she and Caroline slowly moved toward Dodge City, Lara had anxious thoughts. Each mile took her closer to the moment when she would be Houston’s wife in every sense of the word. And each kiss deepened their love even more. She remembered young Caroline’s embarrassing questions.

What kind of lover would Houston be? It didn’t really matter if he was fast or slow. What mattered was that he’d be beside her for the rest of her life. However he made love would be just fine. They weren’t running any race.

She wanted more babies, and watching Houston with Gracie, it wasn’t a far stretch to imagine he did too.

More children.

A smile curved her lips. Gracie needed a little brother or sister. Or maybe both. Now there was a thought.

More Legends.

She shook the reins at the team. “Get along now and don’t dawdle, you lazy bag of bones. I need to get to Kansas.”

* * *

Although one eye was always on the chuck wagon ahead in the distance, Houston went to work with a vengeance.

His body, sore from the fight, reminded him of the cost of spending the whole day in the saddle, but he wouldn’t complain. He was simply glad to be alive. After Ghost and Yuma, he wouldn’t have taken bets.

Clay galloped up. “I think we’ll make good time before nightfall, boss.”

“We’re moving at a pretty good clip,” Houston agreed. “Keep it up. We’ve got to make tracks while we can. My brothers can’t hold back Yuma’s gang for long.”

“At least we won’t have to fight that giant.” Clay shook his head. “Hell, I still don’t know how you survived. Ghost was the biggest man I’ve ever seen.”

Houston would have died without that strange twist of fate, and Yuma’s personal need to kill him. “We can add horse thievery to Yuma’s list of crimes. I hate like hell to lose that palomino. He was a good piece of horseflesh.”

“With luck we’ll get the gelding back.” Clay rested his arm on the pommel. “We haven’t seen the last of them.”

“Pass the word along to keep on alert. Just because my brothers stayed behind is no reason to let down our guard. Yuma and his group have shown how slippery they are.” Houston uncorked his canteen and took a swig of water.

“Already told the men, boss.”

“Damn, Clay, have you taken to reading minds in addition to your other chores?” Houston couldn’t have chosen a better man.

Clay laughed. “Not hardly. Just using plain ol’ horse sense.”

Houston chuckled. “I’m struck by the ones who don’t even have people sense. By the way, did you and Luke get your problem straightened out?”

“We never had a problem.”

“My mistake.” Houston studied the weathered face but saw nothing.

“I need to keep moving, boss,” Clay said. “Don’t want the men to let the cattle slow.”

With a nod, Houston turned and watched him ride toward the back. He couldn’t figure the man out but he knew Clay Angelo had something to hide. He’d dismissed it before, but now he wondered. What were his secrets, dammit? One bit of comfort was that Luke knew something. And if he thought Houston needed the information, he’d tell him.

He rode close to some brush beside the trail and something glittery caught his eye. He dismounted for a closer look.

It turned out to be a small mirror that had probably fallen from someone’s wagon. Picking it up, he dusted it off. Though Lara hadn’t mentioned wanting one, a woman needed something to look in. He tucked it into his saddlebag.

The day passed uneventful with no sign of Yuma or his men. The only people they’d seen had been a group of Cherokee riders in the distance. Night had fallen long before Houston and his men stopped to make camp.

Houston hurried to take Gracie from Lara so she could see to her needs. On and off through the day, the babe had ridden with him and other drovers as well. They had drawn straws for a turn to tote the child around. She did truly belong to each of them.

What was worse…Gracie seemed to know it. Her slobbery, toothless grin couldn’t get wider each time a drover would reach for her. Something had to be very wrong with Blackstone for wanting the child dead. Houston looked forward to cheating him out of it.

Everywhere Houston turned, he half expected to find Henry. He sorely missed the boy, but no one missed him more than Lara. The pain she carried for her brother was etched on her face. He cursed Blackstone for creating the need to send him home.

Houston moved toward his wife, cleared his throat so he wouldn’t take her unaware in the darkness. Lara was nursing Gracie and staring into the night. She seemed a million miles away.

Evidently hearing him, she swung her gaze to meet his. “Hi there, cowboy.”

For a long moment, he stood transfixed at the aching beauty of her motherly love.

“I found something today.” He handed her the hand glass. “Now you can see how beautiful you are. You won’t have to take my word that your scar’s fading.”

In reaching for the mirror, the cloth shielding her breast fell away. Instead of panicking as she always had, Lara met Houston’s eyes and smiled as though giving him the right to look.

Her lack of embarrassment took him by surprise.

“I am curious.” She held up the little looking glass. Wonder filled her voice. “It is. I can look at my scar without flinching now. Thanks to you and the Cherokee woman’s ointment.”

“That’s good.” He brushed her face with a knuckle. “What can I do to help while you feed Gracie?”

Her brow wrinkled in thought. “I hate to feed the drovers jerky after the long day they put in. It’s just not right.”

“I saw a large covey of prairie chickens nearby. I’ll raid their nests for eggs.”

“Would you mind?”

“Consider it done.” Before leaving, he let his hand slide along her jaw and down across her shoulders, trying to drag himself away. Once he finally managed, he quickly ordered the drovers to stay close and look for eggs.

The night whispered around Houston as he scouted the area with Clay. The breeze brought a stench to Houston’s nose.

“Let’s see where that’s coming from,” Houston said.

The two men rode about half a mile into some scraggly mesquite trees and pulled up.

The skeleton frames of burned-out tepees stood like silent sentinels. Destruction lay around them. Blackened bodies everywhere of young and old. Houston slid from the saddle and touched the scorched earth, finding it cool. The carnage had taken place days ago. His mind swept to the scalp hanging from Yuma’s belt. This had to be the man’s handiwork. Had he ridden ahead and looped back? Or was this the work of another group?

Silently, he and Clay walked among the ruins. As Houston picked up an empty can of beans, icy prickles danced down his spine. Yuma’s campsites had shown the same type of litter.

“Dammit, Clay, the bastards ate here after they killed these people.”

Clay spat in the dirt as though to rid his mouth of a bad taste. “What kind of sick bastards do that?”

Houston dropped the can and strode to his horse. “The kind who’re following us.”

They rode back to camp, vowing to return at dawn and dig graves. They talked about when Yuma and his men might’ve done this and decided it happened before Sam and Luke came. Houston pasted on a smile for Lara, determined not to share what they’d found.

Later, after the last drover ate his fill of scrambled eggs and hot biscuits and the cleanup was done, Houston sat beside Lara, counting the minutes until he could be alone with her. He needed her kisses to wipe those images from his head.

“Do you mind if I play with Gracie a bit?” Caroline asked. “It’ll give me and Nick practice. Besides, she’s the sweetest little thing. I want one just like her.”

Lara smiled. “She would love it, and so would I.”

“Footloose and fancy-free, Mrs. Legend?” Houston teased with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“Why, it does appear that way.”

“How about a ride?” Houston asked. “We won’t go far.”

“I’d love to.”

He grabbed a blanket and lifted her onto the back of the big roan then settled into the saddle behind her. With his arms around her, they rode north, away from the camp and the carnage of the Indian village.

“Where are we going?” Lara asked.

“It’s a surprise. I found it today when scouting.” He nuzzled her ear, smelling her fragrance. “You’ll like it.”

“Do you think it’s safe?”

“My brothers will keep the gang bottled up a while. With luck, maybe for good.” He slipped an arm around her trim waist. “I’ll keep you safe.”

They’d ridden about half an hour when they came to the Canadian River. Houston reined up at a tall cottonwood tree standing tall in the moonlight. He dismounted and reached for Lara, groaning as she slid slowly down the length of his body.

Sparks flared into a fire as though she was the friction for his match. His mouth went dry. Whatever happened tonight would determine how to proceed. Lara would either accept him and their marriage, or he’d live alone in some kind of private hell while he waited for her. He knew it could go either way. Though she’d vowed her love, the practical side of him realized she still had a mountain to climb.

Would she be brave enough to turn loose of the past?

Or would the memories keep her always frozen in fear?

Houston ran his hands across her slight back, feeling the delicate bone structure. But there was nothing delicate or weak about the woman who filled his heart.

Thickness formed in his throat. “I’m proud to be your husband. Whatever happens now or in the coming days, I will always love you.” The words came out hoarse and raspy.

She pressed her lips to the hollow of his throat, below the cut Ghost had left, and emotion made Houston weak. “If I’m dreaming, I never want to wake up. Let me stay in your arms forever. You’re all I need. Love for you spills over, flowing through every part of me.”

“Through me too.”

As her words filled the empty crevices inside him, Houston continued memorizing her body, soaking up the feel of her. He let his hands roam over her before cupping her rounded bottom.

They fit together so well. How could this not be right?

Their lips met in a hungry kiss. Lara slid her hand around his neck into his hair, drawing him closer to the flame.

Dear God, he went willingly, with an ache inching up his spine and spreading outward into his limbs. Not lightning, a cattle stampede, nor outlaws could stop him.

Lara murmured against his mouth, “The grass and trees are a far cry from the arid land we’ve crossed.”

“A special treat for my lady.” Houston remembered the blanket and reached for it, wondering at his shaking hand. “You’ll see it tomorrow when we ford.”

He spread the blanket on the wild grass by the rippling water’s edge, praying he’d find the right words—do the right things. He wanted this to be perfect and he’d take his lead from her. If she couldn’t do more than let him kiss her and talk, that was all right.

He could mark time for however long it took until she was ready. As long as she never left him.