Thirty-eight

Houston and Lara rode back to camp in the moonlight. Her quiet strength and courage was a balm for his weary soul. They touched, whispering words of love to each other. Lara brought such peace and completeness to his life. His wife had proven a constant surprise. Just when he thought he had her all figured out, she sent him back to the beginning.

“What time do you think it is?” Lara asked.

He glanced up at the stars. “Must be about ten o’clock.”

“Gracie will be asleep by now. I feel guilty for being gone so long. I’m sure Caroline must wonder where we are.”

“Relax. Like our young friend said, it’s good training for her…and it gave Nick a rest.” Houston chuckled. “Poor guy. She’s going to wear him flat out.”

Lara giggled. “I think they’re trying to set a record. I’ve never seen anyone more…frisky…than those two. And they don’t seem to care who knows it either. I would die of embarrassment if everyone knew about what we just did.”

They rode into camp and the men sitting around the fire stared.

She groaned. “Oh dear. They know.”

“True, but they’ll never say a word,” Houston assured her. If they did, they’d answer to him, and then they’d be out of a job in nothing flat. He’d have no one talking about his wife. Period.

He dismounted and helped her down. Looking a bit frazzled, Caroline hurried to Lara with Gracie sobbing in her arms.

“I’ve done everything and she won’t stop. Oh, I’m going to make a bad, bad, bad mother,” Caroline cried.

Houston took Gracie while Lara quieted the young girl. The babe hushed instantly and gave him a toothless grin before burying her face in his chest.

By the time Lara returned, Gracie was fast asleep. He laid the babe in her crib and stood looking down. Something in his gut turned over as he covered the child. She depended on him to keep her safe. No, she depended on them both.

Could he know more contentment…at least in his marriage?

But he shouldn’t get too comfortable. Things had a way of changing on a man in the blink of an eye. A strange noise came from beyond the firelight, snagging his attention. The sound didn’t fit with anything else. Houston put his arm around Lara. He cocked his head, listening.

“What is it?” Lara asked, pressing against him.

“Not sure.”

Most of the men around the fire had crawled into their bedrolls and were snoring. The two still awake rose and walked toward the noise with their weapons in hand.

Crying…someone was crying. Were they hurt? Then came the fierce growls of coyotes. From the noise, it sounded like an entire pack.

“Wait here,” Houston told Lara.

The hair rose on the back of his neck. He slid his Colt from the holster and strode toward the din. Once he’d stepped from the firelight, he made out dark forms. One person was surrounded by a pack of wild animals, the shapes proving he was right about coyotes.

“Help!” cried a male voice. “Help!”

Houston and his drovers opened fire on the vicious animals. He shot one in midleap, and the slight man it was attacking turned and raced toward him. The drovers cut down three more coyotes. The surviving members of the pack turned and bounded into the pitch-black night.

Sobbing, the man kept running. “Houston!”

One of his brothers? No, too young. The voice sounded a little like Henry’s but it couldn’t be. The boy was safe with the Ledbetters. Was it one of Yuma’s tricks? Keeping his Colt aimed at the figure, he waited with the drovers. He wouldn’t move a step farther until he could assess the danger.

Whoever it was fell to his knees and sank to the dirt. Sobbing, he lay there, a dark blob on the ground. Finally, he began to crawl, digging his hands into the dirt and pulling himself forward. “Help.”

Houston turned to the drovers. “Cover me. I don’t think he poses any danger, but you never know.”

“Be careful, boss,” Pony warned.

With a nod, Houston strode out to the man. The closer he got, the more he could see that it was a mere boy. No, it wasn’t possible. But it was.

“Henry!”

“Help me, Houston.”

Houston raced to him, picked him up and carried him to camp.

Lara crowded at his elbow. “Henry!”

“Find a place for me to lay him,” Houston said. “He looks in bad shape.”

She hurriedly spread a blanket by the fire and Houston gently lowered the boy onto it. His face was scratched, his clothes torn, and his hands a bloody mess. Tears had created streaks through the dirt and blood.

The boy whimpered and looked up. “I was scared.”

“You don’t have to be anymore.” Lara smoothed back the hair from his eyes. “You’re safe now.”

“Bring some water,” Houston told the drover standing closest. “I doubt he’s had anything since early this morning. No telling what he’s been through.”

Her gaze met his for a moment and, even though her eyes held worry and fear, he saw her strength. “He’ll be all right. Just needs rest. Houston, he still has the money you gave him.”

That surprised him a little, but he guessed whoever had attacked had been more interested in the adults.

The drover hurried back with not only a cup of water but also a filled pail so Lara could wash Henry’s wounds. While Houston itched to learn what had happened, he had to give the boy time or it could drive him deeper into shock.

Gently, Lara bathed Henry’s face and set to work washing the blood from his hands and arms. Slowly, the boy began to come out of it enough to say that outlaws had attacked the Ledbetters. Terrified, Henry had hidden among the dead, silent and still. He heard lots of loud gunshots and other riders came.

“I snuck out and started walking,” Henry said with tears running down his face. “Followed the cow poop. Big dogs chased me. I kicked and threw rocks but they wouldn’t go away. I thought I was gonna die.”

“There, there. You’re safe now.” Lara tenderly bathed his face and kissed his forehead. “We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

Houston squatted on his heels. “Henry, did you ever see any of the outlaws before? Was it Yuma?”

“They killed ’em. Blood. So much blood. Get it off.” He furiously scrubbed at his hands, appearing in deep shock. And no wonder. What he’d witnessed would terrify a grown man.

“I’ll get it off,” Lara said gently, taking his hands in hers.

Dammit. All those women. The kids. Slaughtered by riffraff driven by bloodlust. Who were they? Did Yuma Blackstone’s bunch bear responsibility? Why would he attack the Ledbetters when he was so focused on Lara? Or maybe it had been a different group entirely. These were dangerous lands.

Worry rose for Sam and Luke. For all he knew they were both wounded…or dead. They might need him. He cursed low. He couldn’t leave Lara and Gracie now.

A sudden thought chilled his blood. If he’d sent them with the Ledbetters, they’d both be dead now.