Homespun Hearts Page 8

  Everyone hurried to meet her as she approached. They swarmed around her, the men’s faces etched with the same concern and questions that Luke himself was feeling.

  Ward stopped and looked around. “This is quite a welcoming party,” he said, smiling over Faith’s head at them. “From the looks on your faces, you were worried about Faith. No need to fret, boys, she’s just fine.”

  Resentment burned in Luke’s gut and his jaw clenched. He was mad at himself for falling victim to his own worry. He’d allowed Faith Brown to turn his whole cattle drive upside down. She’d not only been a distraction, but a liability. And it wasn’t over yet. Smokey coughed, and a couple men shuffled their feet. He wasn’t the only one feeling foolish. And perhaps angry?

  Faith took her knapsack from Ward and hurried to her wagon. The men of Luke’s trail drive watched her go. She climbed inside, relishing the security of the place, remembering how it had been her home for the past three months. Tears stung her eyes as she unbuttoned her dress and positioned Dawn for her morning feeding.

  The baby dozed, worn out from her hysterical crying earlier. Slowly she woke as Faith held her to her breast, but the child was indifferent to what was being offered. But she had to be hungry, for she hadn’t had any breakfast yet.

  Faith coaxed a bit more until the baby began to eat. “That’s better, sweetie,” she struggled to get out. She rocked back and forth and nestled Dawn close, remembering the look in Luke’s eyes. In all of the men’s eyes. Disbelief. Hurt. Anger. Luke believed she’d just gone off with Ward. He surely thought she wanted to be with her brother-in-law, wanted to talk with him. He probably believed everything she’d said last night was a lie, and Faith didn’t see how she would convince him otherwise.

  Dawn choked on a small swallow, gasped once and then began to hiccup. Each time one interrupted her, the baby would stop nursing and cry. She seemed disoriented.

  “Here, baby,” Faith offered, feeling close to hysterical herself. “Here.” She tried to interest Dawn, but the infant just kept crying.

  “Missy?”

  It was Lucky, outside her wagon. “Let me take the young’un. Sounds like she has a bubble stuck in her belly. Gone colicky. Let me walk her a while and try an’ bring it up.”

  “We’re pulling out, Lucky,” she heard Luke bellow. “Mount up, men. We’ll meet the herd and start moving them northwest.”

  “It’ll only take a minute,” Lucky fired back, his tone sharp. It was the only time Faith had ever heard the cook talk in that manner. She sucked in a breath. The last thing she wanted to do was cause more trouble for Luke.

  “We’ve lost as much time today gallivanting around as we’re going to. Ask her if they’re coming with us, and let’s go.” His tone brooked no argument.

  Lucky, grumbling, followed orders and called in to her if she was sticking to the original plan. When she said they were, Colton took the reins of the wagon’s hitched-up team and Francis helped him turn the horses, which fell in line behind the chuck wagon. With a jingle of harness and the muffled sound of hooves on sawdust, the wagons pulled out of Pine Grove. Dawn’s persistent howling echoed down every street.

  Luke scowled as he rode. Each time the baby sobbed, it pierced his belly like a hot lance. Just what in the heck was Faith trying to pull? Ward looked like no more of a threat to her than Francis. And yet, he’d seen her fear last night written plainly on her face. Was this just some wild story she was making up so she could escape her responsibilities back home and start a new life, sashaying all over the countryside, gathering men’s hearts like they were wildflowers? He scoffed and shook his head.

  Roady, riding silently by his side, looked over in question. “Who’s the man?”

  “Ward Brown.”

  “Husband?”

  “No. Brother-in-law.”

  “When did he show up?”

  “Last night, when we pulled in. Dickson had ridden ahead and was forthcoming when he asked around about Faith. Says he wants to take her and the young’uns home to their farm.” Luke paused and glanced back at the two wagons.

  “And…?” Roady prompted.

  “She doesn’t want to go. Says the old man will make her marry Ward.”

  “What do you make of it? Her out with him this morning?”

  Luke shrugged. Felt duped. He wanted to help her but, without the truth, what was the use in trying?

  Ward stood quietly to the side of the street as the outfit pulled out of Pine Grove. If the man were such a threat, wouldn’t he try to stop them? Insist on taking Faith and the young’uns with him now? Instead he just watched Faith’s wagon roll by.

  “Well,” Roady said. “This possibility has been in the back of everyone’s mind since you found her all alone. Wasn’t likely there wasn’t a man out there somewhere. Not with a woman like her.”

  “That’s so.” At least she’d told the truth when she said her husband was dead.

  Cresting a hill of waving brown grass they caught sight of the herd on the move down the Valley of Flowers, an area of Montana long traveled by Indians of all tribes. The scene stabilized Luke. It was one he’d seen many times. He was reminded sharply of what really mattered to him most, and what it meant for him to prove to his father and family that he was capable of bringing in a sizable herd without incident. They didn’t want this validation, but he did. His stubbornness kept him from feeling connected to them and there was nothing he’d found that could make him believe different.

  His riders rode out and joined the herd that moved slowly west, surrounded by lofty mountains and trailed by a large brown cloud of dust. It was like one giant living creature, the all-important life’s blood of his family’s ranch. From early childhood Luke had been obsessed with only one thing: running the Heart of the Mountains. Now he was running their trail drive for the first time.

  The Heart of the Mountains. He smiled at the sentimental name of the most powerful ranch this side of the Rocky Mountains. “What was I supposed to do, boys?” Flood had asked, a foolish grin on his face. “There she stood, my bride, like a willow in the wind and not yet sixteen years old. Her heart was shining right through her blue eyes. I was a man in love, smitten. I’d let her name the ten thousand acres Lollipop Lane, if she’d asked.”

  Now, there was a couple: his ma and Flood. Luke glanced over to the chuck wagon and then toward Faith’s, which was quiet now, Dawn finally given up on her screaming. No, sir. His ma would never lie to Flood. They had a one-of-a-kind relationship. It was still full of love, respect and honesty, even after all these years. That was pretty amazing.

  “What’s the plan?” Roady asked, still riding alongside Luke. “Why’s she still with us?”

  “She’s staying on until we reach home; then she’ll contact her aunt”—Luke cringed inwardly, feeling again that Faith had lied to him—“Penelope Flowers, in Priest’s Crossing. Says she’s waiting on her.”

  “Sounds reasonable.”

  Luke shook his head. “I think she’s lying.”

  “If she is, and I say if, then just maybe she’s got her reasons.” Roady drew to a halt. “In my way of thinking, Luke, she has a right to go anywhere she wants. Just because Ward Brown shows up and wants to cart her off to who-knows-where don’t mean diddly-squat.”

  Luke had reined up, too, and he glanced at Roady sitting easily in the saddle. The man’s hat was tipped back in his usual carefree fashion, and he chewed on the toothpick that hung as a permanent fixture from his mouth. Luke wished he could be as trusting. He truly did. But something just didn’t feel right. His gut was telling him someone was lying. Hell, he didn’t want to think it was Faith, but…

  “That may be,” he said. “But she’s risking Colton’s life and also little Dawn’s by this harebrained idea that she can travel across country without any help from a man.”

  Roady snorted. “She’s got plenty of help now, ain’t she?” He looked challengingly to Luke. “Any one of these men, including myself, would be more than glad to escort h
er to Priest’s Crossing—or to San Francisco for that matter, if that’s where she wants to go.”

  “Tell me something I don’t already know.” Luke couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his words.

  Roady’s face clouded with annoyance. “Why don’t you try some sweet talk? A little can go a long way with a woman. All you’ve done is scowl and treat her like one of the men.”

  “Facts are facts,” Luke shot back hotly. “That’s all that matters. Honey-mouthed sayings are for fairy tales. This”—he gestured to the open countryside with his arm—“is reality.”

  “You might be surprised,” Roady said with a scoff. “Your usual good thinking is lacking this time, Luke. Try using some of that wise red man blood you got flowing through your veins. Maybe things will become a little clearer.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Camp was a quiet affair that evening. The men ate, then disappeared to their bedrolls one by one, probably still feeling the effects of the whiskey they’d consumed at the Wooden Nickel. It wasn’t often that the three brothers were in camp together at the same time, because one was usually out watching the herd. The night before reaching the ranch, though, they were a bit more relaxed.

  Mark, smoking a cigar, watched Matt work a frayed piece of rope. Roady and Luke sat opposite, enjoying the hot coffee Lucky had poured. Talk was small when they gave the effort; they mostly sat in silence.

  Faith had not left her wagon since that morning. Lucky had taken her some supper, trying to entice her out, but she’d rejected the tempting meal.

  “I’m not hungry. But thank you, Lucky,” she’d added.

  “You gotta eat. Think of the baby. She needs your milk,” Luke heard him say.

  “I have a little something to nibble on in here,” she’d assured the cook, her voice steady and low. “You quit your worrying.”

  “At least let me take the little gal for a spell. You need some rest.”

  She’d refused that, too.

  Ike and Will Dickson walked into camp, leading their horses. Ward Brown was by their side. Luke stood, suspicion crackling through him like wildfire.

  “Found him following our trail,” Ike said, motioning to Ward.

  Luke looked at the newcomer, awaiting his response. Roady, at Luke’s shoulder, sized Ward up.

  “That’s true enough,” Ward replied. “Heard last night at the Wooden Nickel how you fired Earl. With a herd as large as yours I figured you’d need every hand you can get. Especially for the river crossing tomorrow. I’d like to hire on…if you’ll have me. I’m good in the saddle and have worked my share of cattle.”

  Matt and Mark looked to Luke. It was true: being a man short put everyone at risk. But the decision was Luke’s. The brothers respected each other’s authority.

  Luke felt certain that Faith was watching them from her wagon. He could feel her stare burning into his back. This just might be a good way to flush out the truth from her. Find out what was really going on.

  “Grab yourself a cup of coffee. We’ll use you until we reach the ranch.”

  “Much obliged, Mr. McCutcheon.” Ward’s blue eyes swung from one face to the next. “Where do I find a cup?”

  As their new hire walked away, Roady rounded on Luke. “Are you loco? What’s gotten into you?” He shook his head, disgusted.

  Luke followed him to the edge of the campsite. “If there’s a diamondback around, I want him out in the open where I can see him, not hidden under a rock ready to strike.”

  Roady didn’t reply.

  Word spread. All the men knew who Ward was, and Lucky was no exception. Luke watched the old man stand back and let Faith’s brother-in-law serve himself. Normally the cook would have jumped right in to help, making a newcomer welcome.

  “Where you from?” Luke asked, going over to Ward. Roady followed.

  Ward raised his cup and took a sip, tasting the coffee. “Nebraska. Small town called Kearney. Ever heard of it?”

  “No.” Luke watched him. Ward’s eyes slipped from face to face of each the camp’s men, and it never once strayed to Faith’s wagon half-hidden just beyond Lucky’s. Curious, for a man so…concerned. “I suppose you know Faith’s relation. The one she’s going to live with,” Luke probed.

  “Relation? She don’t have no relation. Her pa died shortly after she married Samuel. He’s the only relative that I know about.” Ward took another sip of coffee. “I wouldn’t know who you’re talking about.”

  “Penelope Flowers,” Luke threw out.

  Ward choked. Wiping his mouth with his shirtsleeve, he turned and glanced at Faith’s wagon. In a sad and serious voice he whispered, “That’s what she told you, then? Penelope Flowers is her aunt?” His tone was full of concern, as he shook his head in disbelief.

  “That’s what she said,” Luke confirmed. Though he’d expected it, he didn’t like the direction this conversation was headed.

  “Penelope Flowers is her cow. Been a good milker for years, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call her kin,” Ward joked, looking from Luke to Roady, his lips quivering as he tried to hide back a smile. “Although, Faith did seem quite attached to the old thing. Just maybe they are related.”

  Luke’s anger smoldered, but he refused to appear anything but nonchalant. He didn’t know what galled him more—Faith’s lie or the fact that Ward was having fun at her expense.

  Ward meandered casually over to the campfire and refilled his coffee cup, a frown marring his face. “This is exactly what I’ve been worried about.” He sat down, making himself comfortable. “Faith’s always had a fanciful way about her, making things up and such. Always harmless, mind you. She’s not lettin’ on, but I think she’s takin’ Samuel’s death real hard. Dreaming up things that just aren’t true. It worries me—her taking care of the young’uns and all.”

  With a quick flick of his wrist, Roady pitched the remainder of his coffee into the crackling flames. “I’m turning in,” he said curtly.

  Matt and Mark, who stood quietly nearby, followed suit. They looked questioningly at Luke, and then headed for their bedrolls.

  “Do you want me to take a watch?” Ward asked.

  The last thing Luke wanted was this man up when everyone else was asleep. But he didn’t want to show his hand just yet. “You bed down with the others; I’ll wake you later.”

  “Thanks again for givin’ me a chance. I know I’m a stranger and all.”

  Luke watched him go. Either Ward was a darn good liar or Faith was. But then, what about her and Colton’s reactions? Those hadn’t been an act; he’d bet the ranch on it. So, what actually was going on here? Determined more than ever to find out, Luke looked to the wagons. Was Faith still awake? Only one way to be certain.

  Faith heard Luke approaching. She waited for him to knock, but he didn’t. What was he waiting for? Her temper flared. She’d heard bits and pieces of Ward’s conversation about poor Samuel and how hard she was taking his death. With a pounding heart, she clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking.

  “Faith, you awake?” Luke called quietly.

  She sat there stewing. Colton and Dawn had been asleep for a good hour. She could pretend she was asleep, too; that way she wouldn’t have to face the accusation she knew she’d see in his eyes. But, Lord. She hated not defending herself. Hated letting Ward go about spreading lies.

  “I’m awake.”

  “Would you mind coming out here for a spell?” Luke cleared his throat. “So we can talk.”

  No. She wouldn’t mind. But he might when she got finished with him. “I’ll be right out.”

  Snatching up her shawl, she wrapped it tightly around herself and slipped out into the darkness. She felt his hand steady her as she climbed down the wheel to the ground. The desire to pull away was strong, but she mastered it, knowing such an act wouldn’t do any good.

  He steered her away from the campfire to a more secluded place beyond some trees. Her nerves were taut, frayed. Unable to hold back a moment longer, she rounded on Luke, th
rowing him off balance. “How could you?” she demanded.

  “What?”

  “How could you let that lying, cunning, sad excuse of a human being stay?” she cried. “Oh, he’s so smooth. Butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.”

  “He hasn’t lied to me—at least not that I know of.”

  “You believe him. Trust him. Because he’s a man. And women are stupid, lazy, lying and…and…” She couldn’t think of anything else Samuel called her. “Don’t you? You don’t think he’s a threat to Colton or me. Or to Dawn, for that matter.”

  His lips thinned. “Quit putting words in my mouth,” he whispered angrily. “I wanted answers last night, Faith. Wanted to figure out just what was going on. But you didn’t seem to have any for me. Remember?” He paced away, stood for a moment and then paced back, irritation apparent in every inch of his body.

  Damnation. Why was it so hard for her to talk with him without getting worked up?

  She erased any evidence of emotion from her voice. “I remember, Luke.” Oh, she’d wanted to give him answers. Wanted to spill the whole ugly mess into his lap, and then let him pick up the pieces of her heart and soul, one by one, and make everything right. But she couldn’t. Just the thought of telling him was enough to make her stomach sour up. So, silence was her answer.

  “See?” he charged, pointing his finger in her face. “You’re doing it again. Right now. Shutting me out.”

  “You’re right,” she threw back, wishing she could do otherwise. “There aren’t any answers.”

  “There aren’t? Or, you just won’t give them to me?” Luke stared at her. Moments ticked by. “Your aunt Penelope,” he said in a much calmer voice. “She has room for the three of you?”

  “Well…” Faith paused, thinking. “Yes, she does.”

  Luke crossed his arms over his chest. “And, you know her well, then, this aunt of yours?”