Page 28 of Texas Heart


  "You must travel by day, as well as night."

  "The men following us will find us."

  "My people will see to it that no trace of your tracks remain. ' ' She watched as the Indians moved away and disappeared beyond a ridge of rock.

  As quickly as possible, she and her brothers settled their father on the travois, covering him With a hide.

  Pulling himself into the saddle, Danny took the lead.

  Thad caught the reins of their father's horse and led him behind his own mount.

  Jessie took up the rear, keeping an anxious eye on her father while she rode.

  Though he was in obvious pain he made no sound of protest.

  She clung to the tiny thread of hope.

  Within days they would be back in Texas.

  What had started out as a fine misty rain in the morning had become a drenching downpour.

  They rode all day, pulling .

  their cowhide jackets around them, wearing wide-brimmed hats to keep the rain from their eyes.

  Jessie had tucked the hides firmly about her father, covering even his head, so that the only parts of him exposed to the rain were his eyes and nose.

  They reached the Red River in late afternoon.

  At Jessie's orders they steered a wide berth around Doan's Store, keeping far enough away so that any drovers there wouldn't see them as they crossed into Texas.

  Because of the rain, the water was swirling as high as their horses' bellies.

  Danny cast a worried look at Pa, then at his sister.

  "What'll we do now, Jess?"

  "l-----can ride."

  They heard Pa's voice, muffled beneath the hides.

  Danny shook his head emphatically and waited for Jessie to do the arguing.

  Instead she merely nodded.

  "There's no other way."

  "He can't do it, Jess."

  "He can. He will."

  Wearily she climbed from the saddle and began unfastening the hides that secured their father.

  "Come on, Danny, Thad.

  Give me a hand.

  Big Jack Conway leaned heavily on his children as he struggled to pull himself into the saddle.

  As his horse waded into the river, the others mounted and rode beside him.

  As soon as they were on the other side, he slid from the saddle and slumped to the ground.

  Immediately Jessie knelt by his side.

  "Listen," Pa whispered to Jessie so the others wouldn't hear.

  "The gold is buried in a grave in Abilene. The tombstone reads J.

  Conway , 1870."

  At Jessie's little gasp he chuckled.

  "They buried a rustler who had no name. At least none they knew of.

  So I gave him my name. And my gold, when everyone was gone."

  "Why are you telling me this now?"

  "Because the day may come when you'll need that gold. It'll still be there a year from now. Or ten years, if you change your mind and want t, it's yours for the taking."

  "I don't want it, Pa. I'll never want it. I'll help you back to the travois."

  Jessie began to stand.

  Pa held up a hand.

  "No more."

  "We're in Texas now, Pa. We're halfway home."

  "No."

  As Danny and Thad looked on in dismay, he took a fit of coughing.

  When it was over, fresh blood oozed through his jacket.

  His voice was little more than a raspy whisper.

  "I've gone as far as I can go. But at least I'll die in Texas."

  "Don't talk like that."

  Danny took a step closer and touched a hand to his father's forehead.

  His skin was on fire.

  Danny pulled his hand away as if he'd been burned.

  "Dying's not so bad," Pa whispered.

  "At least I'll finally be with your ma again."

  He closed his eyes.

  "I've missed her. Missed her so much."

  His eyes blinked open, and for a moment he couldn't seem to comprehend the three strangers who stood watching him.

  Then a look of recognition flickered in his eyes.

  t "Jessie," he whispered, "you're just like me, girl. Too tough and ornery for your own good. But you look like your ma. Like an angel."

  Jessie felt the beginnings of a lump in her throat and swallowed.

  "Danny."

  Pa reached out a hand to his older son and felt the strength as Danny grasped his palm.

  "You have a special gift, boy. Use it to heal."

  "Gift."

  Danny's voice was rough with emotion.

  "If I can't save my own father, what good is it?"

  "You don't understand, do you, son?"

  At Danny's questioning look he whispered, "I don't want to live anymore. It hurts too much. Let me go, son. You have to learn to let go sometimes. But never stop using your gift for others."

  He ttLrned his head slightly to study the little boy who stood back, his eyes round with fear.

  "Thad."

  Reaching out a hand, Pa grasped the boy's pudgy fingers and drew him close.

  "You're so young to be without parents. But you've got Jessie and Danny. I know they'll take good care of you, Thad."

  "Yes, Pa," The little boy's voice trembled with unshed tears.

  "You're mighty good with horses, boy. But there are other things in life. Take the time to get to know people. I'm afraid I kept you to myself too much."

  "No, you didn't, Pa."

  "I was selfish, boy. I was afraid, after losing your ma, that I might lose you, too. All three of you," he added, gazing at the three faces who were watching him with such concern.

  "I was too hard on you, Jessie," he said, reaching out for her hand.

  Instantly she grasped his hand and squeezed.

  "I leaned on you, girl.

  And you never let me down.

  Not once.

  " For a moment his eyes closed, and Jessie shot a worried glance toward Danny. But before the boy could search for a pulse, Big Jack Conway opened his eyes once more. His hand squeezed Jessie's until she nearly cried out." Promise me something, Jessie.

  " " Anything, Pa.

  Anything.

  "I want you to take the boys back East to my brother's.

  Sell everything and make a fresh start in Boston.

  "Pa..."

  "Promise me."

  The words were ground out between clenched teeth.

  "I want a future for my babies."

  "I'll do it," she whispered, feeling the lump growing until she could no longer speak.

  "That's my girl."

  He relaxed his grip.

  His eyelids flickered, then opened.

  He tried to say something more, but though his mouth moved, no words came out.

  Jessie squeezed his hand and felt the tears sting the back of her lids.

  "Pa," she whispered.

  He didn't answer.

  She touched a finger to his throat.

  Even while Danny followed her example and reached for a pulse, Jessie was pressing her father's lids closed.

  "You made it to Texas, Pa," she sobbed.

  "You made it home." ' They buffed Big Jack Conway beside the banks of the Red River. While Jessie gently washed the blood and dirt from her father's face, Danny dug into the soaked earth. With each shovelful of dirt his features hardened, his grim mouth tightened. So much for his dream of becoming a doctor. He had failed his own father. Failed miserably. How could he possibly think he could save others?

  When at last the hole was wide enough and deep enough, he pulled himself up and wiped his mud-stained hands on his pants before walking to where his father's body lay.

  The three of them struggled under the deadweight, but at last the hide-wrapped body was laid to rest in the earth.

  "I think we should say some words."

  Jessie's voice was hushed.

  "Do you know any?"

  She searched for the appropriate B
ible verse, but her mind had gone blank.

  While she twisted her hands, little Thad's voice broke through her thoughts.

  "You used to read to me from the Book of Psalms. Do you remember?"

  Jessie nodded, and Thad's childish voice recited the words she had so often read by candlelight in their little sod house.

  "'And he shall be like a tree planted by the waters of the river.

  And he shall bring forth his fruit in his season. Through his children and his children's children, his leaf shall not wither." ' ' As Jessie stared at the grave, she felt the tears well up and begin to spill over.

  And then the little boy's voice grew stronger.

  "'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. For thou art with me."" His words unleashed a torrent of tears in Jessie.

  She stood in the rain and wept, feeling a terrible welling of emotions.

  Beside her, Danny stared at a spot of dirt, refusing to look at the body of his father deep in the earth.

  As he reached for the shovel, Thad touched a hand to his sleeve.

  "Danny, it's all right to cry."

  "Men don't cry."

  He pulled away and lifted the first shovelful of earth.

  "Cole told me that when his ma died, his pa cried like a baby. And Cole said his pa was the strongest man he'd ever known." “ Cole told you that?

  "Yeah."

  The little boy watched as Danny's lower lip began to tremble.

  "What did he do while his pa cried?"

  Thad swallowed.

  "He held him in his arms and cried, too."

  "Oh, Thad."

  Danny fell into his little brother's arms and wept as though his heart would break.

  Stunned, Jessie took a step toward her brothers and wrapped her arms around both of them.

  And while they held each other, they cried until there were no tears left.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The three slept beside their father's grave because they couldn't bear to leave him alone in the rain.

  And in the morning, they unhitched the travois and laid it in the grass beside the grave, knowing that the Comanches, watching from across the river, would retrieve it when they were gone.

  They bid a last tearful farewell to their father, then rode south, leading his horse.

  Though their hearts were heavy, they never looked back: They were criminals now, hunted in their own land.

  There was no more time for grief.

  If they were to survive, they would have to be alert to every danger.

  They traveled by night and slept by day, keeping away from familiar trails.

  When at last they reached the border of their neighbor's land, they breathed a sigh of relief.

  "We'll stop by the Starkeys' place and see if they'll make us an offer on the ranch."

  Danny shot his sister an incredulous look.

  "You're really going to sell our ranch?"

  "We have no choice. I promised Pa. Besides," she added grimly, "we can't stay here. We're wanted by a federal marshal."' She saw the look in her little brother's eyes and said softly, " You're too young to be held accountable for what was done, Tadpole.

  But the law would take you away from me.

  And that would be worse than any prison.

  She wheeled her mount, unable to bear the look in his eyes, and led the way to the Starkey ranch.

  Jed and Sara Starkey and their three brawny sons came together from various parts of the ranch to greet their long-absent neighbors.

  "Come on in," Sara said, pulling off the apron that struggled to span her ample girth.

  "There's cold buttermilk and fresh biscuits."

  As she dismounted, Jessie was caught in a great bear hug.

  She inhaled the fragrance of flour and spices and felt a fierce longing for home.

  "You've gotteneven thinner," Sara said before releasing her.

  "Fm going to send my boys over with some of my homemade molasses cookies and see if I can't fatten you up a bit. Now," she said, turning to plant wet motherly kisses on Danny and Thad before leading them inside, "tell us where you three have been. We've been keeping an eye on your place and still haven't seen a trace of that father of yours."

  Jessie explained their journey and their father's death, while leaving out the part about the jailbreak.

  "And so," Jessie said when she had finished her story, "I thought you folks might like to buy our ranch and herd."

  Jed Starkey leaned his sparse frame back in his chair and drew on a pipe, then watched the wreath of smoke curl above his head.

  Around the big oak table his three boys glanced at each other and smiled.

  "It just so happens that Amos here has found himself a woman," Jed said with a grin.

  "And he's been talking about bringing a bride to live at our place.

  This could be a windfall for us. Your place adjoins ours, and we'd be close enough to lend a hand to each other."

  Jessie stared at the table, unable to bring herself to look at Danny or Thad.

  "How much could you afford to pay me, Mr. Starkey?"

  The older man glanced across the table at his wife, who nodded her approval.

  "I can give you two hundred dollars now. When we've had a chance to build up the herd, we could send you another two hundred dollars."

  Jessie swallowed.

  Four hundred dollars for a lifetime of labor and love, laughter and tears.

  They were bartering away her life, her dreams.

  "That's fine, Mr. Starkey. I can send you an address as soon as we get settled. When can you give me the two hundred dollars? We'll need it for the trip East."

  "I'll come by in a day or two. I expect you'll need a little time to pack up."

  He shoved back his chair and extended his hand.

  "I'm sorry you and your brothers are leaving. You've been fine neighbors."

  He glanced at Thad.

  "But I suppose life will be better for a youngster in the East."

  Jessie nodded, keeping her gaze averted.

  "Yes, sir."

  She thanked Sara for the food and nodded toward her brothers.

  "I guess we'd better head for home."

  Home.

  The word brought a fresh stab of pain.

  The Starkeys walked them to their horses.

  Sara thrust several linen-wrapped packages of cold meat and biscuits into Jessie's hands.

  They exchanged final words and waved as they rode away.

  Jessie and her brothers rode over twenty miles in silence, each lost in private thoughts.

  When at last they stood on a ridge and gazed down at their ranch, Jessie felt a welling of such deep emotion she could hardly contain herself.

  Home.

  For all of her seventeen years, this had been the only home she had ever known.

  This rough, barren landscape and this poor sod shack were more beautiful than any mansion.

  And she was coming home for the last time.

  Jessie's home, sensing its familiar corral, broke into a run.

  Jessie gave him his head and turned to see the others galloping behind her.

  Within minutes they were turning the homes into the corral and tilling a trough with water.

  They walked arm in arm toward the sod shack and stepped inside, squinting against the unaccustomed gloom.

  Behind them, someone slammed the door and threw the bolt.

  Before Jessie could react, she felt the cold steel of a pistol against her temple.

  "It's about time you got here, girlie," a man's voice said.

  "Where's Big Jack Conway?"

  Shock waves jolted through her.

  "Who are you? What do you want with us?"

  "I said, where's your father?"

  "He's--" she ran a tongue over lips gone suddenly dry.

  "--dead."

  She heard an angry hiss followed by a stream of savage oaths.

  As her eyes
adjusted to the dim light, she felt a wave of terror.

  Facing her was a tall man with long stringy hair and gaping yellow teeth.

  The man who had attacked her when she had first set out on her journey.

  "Knife."

  His name was wrenched from a throat constricted with fear.

  He laughed low and menacingly.

  "You remember me, do you, girlie? Well, you and me are going to get to know each other a whole lot better before we're through. I still intend to brand you with this little baby--" he held up his knife with the intricately carved handle and pointed the blade at her heart "--after I'm through having some fun with you."

  "Enough, Knife," the other man said.

  "Business before pleasure. My name is Y. A. Pierce."

  Jessie felt her heart tumble.

  The man was dressed in a fancy black suit and wide-brimmed hat.

  No wonder Marshal Smith had been dazzled by him.

  He had the appearance of a very successful rancher.

  Not at all the cold-blooded killer Pa had described.

  "Since your father has met with an untimely demise, I will have to assume that he told you his secret before going to the grave. Now you' re going to tell us where he hid my gold. Or I will be forced to let Knife have his way with you."

  Cole knelt in the dirt and examined the still-warm trail.

  Since his odyssey began, Cole had become an expert at tracking killers.

  And the two men he was tracking were vicious killers.

  They had exchanged horses twice since leaving Abilene.

  The first time, they had slaughtered six Comanche warriors, along with their squaws and children, just for the sake of two horses.

  The last time was at a ranch about a hundred miles from here.

  They'd broken into the ranch house and shot the rancher and his tiny infant daughter.

  Even now Cole could not get the image of the rancher's wife out of his mind.

  She had not been as fortunate as her husband and baby.

  She had been brutalized before they had finally, mercifully, killed her.

  Cole pulled himself into the saddle and urged his horse into a trot.

  As he scanned the landscape, he found himself thinking once more about Jessie.

  With a sense of sorrow he tried to banish the thought from his mind.

  Jessie was lost to him.

  That part of his LIFE was forever gone.

  She and her brothers had been a brief, wonderful fantasy.

  Now it was time to face the harsh reality of LIFE.