He lay, one arm under his head, the other clasping her hand. By the faint light of the embers he could see the tears still wet on her lashes.
“The dream was about your husband, wasn’t it?”
She nodded.
“About the way he died?” When she didn’t respond he said softly, “It might help if you talk about it.”
She looked at him, then away. “I’ve never talked about it. Not to anyone.”
“Why?”
“Because there wasn’t anyone to tell. The townspeople all knew. When word came in that Mick had been found thrown from his horse, they had plenty to say among themselves.”
Thrown from his horse. No wonder she had seemed so tense and edgy when he’d gone after Diablo. But she hadn’t said a word. She’d let him go, even though she must have been terrified.
She continued in that soft, breathless tone. “No one really talked to me about Mick’s death. April and May were too young to understand. All they knew was that their father was never coming home again. And all I knew was that I had to find a way to take care of myself and my two children and the baby that would soon be born. There was no time to grieve. The same day I buried Mick, I took in my first boarder. And I’ve been working ever since.”
She fell silent for a few moments before saying softly, “I’ve always thought that if I had been with Mick, tending him after the fall, he wouldn’t have died.”
“It wouldn’t have made any difference.” His tone was flat, lifeless.
“How can you say that with such certainty?” She was suddenly angry, restless. For the first time she looked at him. And saw a look in his eyes that mirrored her own pain.
“Answer me,” she said. “How can you know Mick wouldn’t have died if I’d been there with him?”
Instead of speaking, he slipped out of bed and crossed the room. When he located his tobacco, he rolled a cigarette, held a match to the tip and inhaled deeply.
Millie watched as he walked to the window to stare out at the blackness.
When he finally spoke, the words seemed pulled from somewhere deep inside him. “I was with my wife and child when they died in Montana. But I couldn’t save them.”
Wife and child. She felt as if she’d been slapped. All this time they had spent together, he had never mentioned them. This was the first that she’d heard of their existence.
“What...” Her throat was dry as dust, the words bitter on her tongue. “What was her name?”
He continued to stare out the window. His tone was flat, emotionless. “Her name was Anna. Her father was a rancher. A very powerful, very wealthy rancher. He had forbidden us to marry, but we were young and headstrong. She said she didn’t care that I was a Comanche. But her father cared. He sent a sheriff to arrest me. I spent six months in jail until a federal judge came to town for the trial. He ordered the sheriff to turn me loose. Said I hadn’t committed a crime. And despite threats from her father, Anna left her ranch and came back to live with me.”
“And your child?”
“A son. Barely two months old when he contracted the fever. I used all of my medicines, but he only got worse.”
Millie thought about the concern he had shown when April had her fever.
“Then my wife grew ill. Each day was worse than the day before.”
“Were there no doctors in Montana?”
He did look at her then. The look in his eyes was so bleak she felt a knife twist in her heart.
“There was a doctor. In the town where we lived. But he refused to treat the wife of a Comanche. He called our union unholy. The work of the devil.”
Millie felt all the breath leave her lungs. “Couldn’t her father persuade the doctor to see her?”
“Her father said his daughter was already dead to him. He actually said she would be better off dead than married to an Indian.”
Millie’s hand flew to her mouth to hold back the gasp of outrage. “But the baby was an innocent party to all this. That baby was his grandson.”
Malachite shook his head. “The hatred had choked his heart and soul. He no longer acknowledged his daughter. Or his grandson. When they died, I buried them alone. And then I turned my back on the town that had turned its back on them. I moved up into the hills, away from people. Away from their hatred.”
He turned and flicked the cigarette into the coals. “But I didn’t really leave the hatred, the bitterness behind. I carried it with me. And allowed it to fester in my heart like a poison. It wasn’t until I came here, and met you, that it started to drain away. With you, I dared to hope again. To believe there could be a life without hatred.”
As he had done with her, Millie crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him, hoping to comfort him. “I’m so sorry, Malachite.”
“I’m sorry, too.” He crushed her against him. “It seems we all have a private hell we have to visit from time to time.”
It was true. But her hell contained only sudden death. His contained enough bitterness, enough cruelty to choke most men.
She led him back to bed and drew him down with her. And as they kissed away each other’s pain, they sought to comfort in the only way they knew.
Hours later, as they lay in each other’s arms, Millie whispered, “I hope in time I can erase all the unhappy memories.”
“You already have,” he murmured against her lips.
But later, when she slept, he again paced the room. And slipped back to that dark, painful place deep inside him. A place he had never revealed to anyone. Until tonight.
Chapter Nineteen
“I hope you made lots of food, Mama.” May proudly set an overflowing basket of eggs on the kitchen table.
“I guess that means you’re starving.”
“Yes’m. Morning chores sure do make me hungry.”
While May and June hung their coats on pegs, April and Malachite nudged off their dung-covered boots before heading toward the basin and pitcher. The two rolled their sleeves and began to wash. When they were through, they took their places at the table.
As soon as Millie could even set down the platters, they were hurriedly passed around. “Have you forgotten something?” she asked.
At once they joined hands and bowed their heads.
“We give thanks,” April intoned, “for this food and for each other.”
Millie smiled. “Now you may eat.”
They needed no coaxing as they savored biscuits, coddled eggs and thick slices of roast beef.
“Mmm,” April mumbled between bites. “Everything tastes better after the chores are done.”
Malachite winked at Millie across the table. “Well then, if you’d like to enjoy your supper as much as you’re enjoying breakfast, I could find enough chores to keep you busy for the rest of the day.”
Instead of the expected moans and groans, the girls surprised him with eager questions.
“Could we maybe stop by the bunkhouse on the way to the barn?” June asked.
“I suppose so. But it’s just an empty building until the wranglers return from the range.”
“Could we visit them when they return?”
“Only if Cookie says so. Cookie’s in charge of the bunkhouse. Nothing goes on out there without his approval.”
“I’d like to see the herds,” May said. “And maybe help with the calving and the branding the way Miss Diamond does.”
Millie’s mouth opened at such an admission from her thoroughly feminine middle child.
“I’d like to work with the horses,” April announced.
Millie’s coffee cup halted midway to her mouth. “When did you decide you liked horses?”
“When I started working in the barn with Malachite. There’s something about the smell of new straw.”
Little June made a face. “And manure.”
April ignored her little sister. “And the feel of their noses when they let me pet them. And the feeling of being high in the air when I ride them.”
“You... ride the
m?” Millie glanced beyond her daughter to the man seated beside her. He seemed to be very absorbed in spreading fruit conserve on a biscuit.
“Don’t look so afraid, Mama. Malachite said it was all right.”
“How long has this been going on?” Millie demanded.
“All week,” her daughter said proudly. “He’s even been letting me ride Diablo.”
Before Millie could say a word, Malachite said dryly, “I think Diablo is the one who’s allowing you to ride. If that stallion didn’t like you, he’d let you know it, and nothing could say would change it.”
“But aren’t you afraid of what might happen?” Millie asked.
“Not anymore,” April said, touching a hand to the stone at her throat. “I have my necklace for courage.”
“Remember what I told you.” Malachite gave her a long, steady look. “Your courage doesn’t come from a necklace. You have to find your courage inside yourself.”
“But how come I never found it until after you gave me this stone?”
“It was there all along,” he said. “All you had to do was give yourself a chance.”
She turned eagerly to her mother. “Malachite said I have a natural way with horses. He said if I set my mind to it, I could probably be as good as him.”
“I have a way with chickens.” June swallowed a mouthful of egg. “Don’t I, Malachite?”
“Indeed you do.” He shot her a wicked grin. “You’re probably the best chicken feeder I’ve ever seen.”
The little girl beamed with pride.
“And I’m the best egg gatherer, huh, Malachite?”
He ruffled May’s hair. “The best.”
Millie cleared her throat. She couldn’t recall when she’d seen her daughters looking so proud and happy. She got up from the table and took her time wrapping a towel around her hand before lifting the coffeepot from the fire. She used the extra time to blink away the tears that were threatening. Her shy little flowers were beginning to bloom. The knowledge made her at once sad and happy.
Oh, if only they could stay here in this little slice of paradise, isolated from the world for a lifetime.
“I believe I’ll use some of those eggs to bake a cake,” she said as she began to refill Malachite’s cup.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
They all looked up at the sound of approaching wagon wheels. The girls raced to the window, then shouted, “It’s Miss Pearl and her family. And look. There’s Miss Diamond and Adam and little Onyx. Oh, and that looks like Miss Jade’s fancy carriage. And Miss Ruby. And...”
Millie would have dropped the coffeepot if Malachite hadn’t steadied her hand. When she set it on the table, he pressed her suddenly cold hands between his.
“Looks like the snow’s melted enough—” his gaze held hers “—that the trails are passable again.”
After these weeks of isolation, she should be happy for the company. But the truth was, she knew the arrival of the others meant the end of their privacy. The end of their happy idyll.
She walked with Malachite to the door. But as she pulled it open to admit their guests, she noticed that he stood discreetly to one side, taking care not to touch her or even look at her. As if he had built a wall between them. She had a sudden urge to weep.
“Millie. Malachite.” Pearl, carrying baby Amber, rushed up the steps, followed by her husband and sons. Behind them came a stream of family members. Diamond and Adam and baby Onyx. Jade, swollen with child and walking very slowly on the arm of Reverend Simpson, and behind them, Ruby and Marshal Regan. Byron Conner stepped out of his rig and helped Lavinia Thurlong and Gladys Witherspoon to alight. Behind them were Deputy Arlo Spitz and his wife, Effie.
At the sight of them, Millie had to stifle a groan.
“We saw the smoke and didn’t know what to make of it,” Pearl called.
“Sorry.” Malachite could see that Millie needed a moment to compose herself. “Mrs. Potter and her girls got caught in the storm. This was the closest place to seek shelter.”
“Sorry? What in the world are you apologizing for?” Diamond asked. “This is your home as much as ours, Malachite.” She turned to Millie. “I’m just glad you were able to weather the storm without too much trouble.” She glanced around. “Carmelita isn’t here?”
“She’s at her ranch.” Malachite shook hands with Cal and Adam, Dan and Quent and the deputy. “She left before the storm hit.”
“So you and Millie and the girls have been here alone for the past couple of weeks?” Byron Conner shot a glance at Millie’s pink cheeks, then at Malachite’s stern profile.
Behind him, shoving each other to be first through the doorway, were Lavinia and Gladys. At his words, they both stopped, stared, then wiggled inside.
Ruby clucked in sympathy. “Everyone in town knew you hadn’t made it home, chérie. We were all praying that you had found safety somewhere.”
Millie knew she was blushing. That only made her blush more. Especially with everyone staring at her. “Thank you for your concern. I hope Carmelita won’t mind that we’ve used up quite a bit of her food.”
“We’ll see that Carmelita gets fresh supplies as soon as Rufus Durfee can deliver them.” Diamond’s eyes narrowed on her brother. But before she could ask any questions, little Ony toddled toward the table and reached for a cup. Diamond managed to catch it a second before it shattered. She swung the toddler to her hip, then said, “Maybe we should send the children into the parlor to play.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” April announced. “If you’d like, we could go to the barn and I’ll show you our surprise.”
“Surprise?” Diamond asked above the din of little Onyx crying and baby Amber cooing and the children all chattering.
With as much drama as she could muster, April announced, “Malachite caught Diablo.”
Everyone stopped talking. The room was so silent that each drop of water falling from the roof could be heard on the porch.
“You don’t mean it.” Adam slapped Malachite on the back.
“I’ll be...” Cal crossed the room to shake his hand.
“You caught the devil?” Gladys Witherspoon’s voice rang with fury. “And you didn’t kill him?”
Malachite’s eyes narrowed. “You know better than that. That horse is no devil.”
“There’s a bounty on his head,” Lavinia declared with the voice of authority. “The town wants him dead.”
“That isn’t so.” Reverend Dan Simpson helped his wife to a chair. “The town just wanted him caught. What Malachite does with him is his business.”
“Is it?” Lavinia pulled herself up to her full height. “And will it be his business when he brings disaster down on all of us?”
“Now, now, Lavinia.” Marshal Regan removed his hat and wiped a sleeve across his brow. The presence of these busybodies always made him sweat.
“That horse has left a path of death and destruction in its wake,” Lavinia declared.
Gladys nodded her support.
Malachite’s voice was dangerously soft. “You can’t really believe that.”
“We’ve seen the proof.” Lavinia’s voice rose several notches. “Our town has seen a few dozen cowboys go chasing that mustang and never come back. There are ranchers who were once prosperous and are now failing. And now we’ve had a snowstorm that’s trapped thousands of cattle out on the range, without food or shelter. I don’t see how you can argue with the facts.”
Before Malachite could offer a word, Byron interjected, “Seems to me Malachite Jewel’s denying his own culture.”
Malachite rounded on the banker. “What would you know about my culture?”
“I’ve been talking to some folks who know about your kind. The Comanche believe that an evil spirit can take over a man or an animal. And they believe that death is the only way to end the evil spirit’s power.”
Malachite’s eyes were smoldering. But his voice remained dangerously soft. “You’ve forgotten something, Conner. M
y mother may have been Comanche. But my father was a clearheaded Texan who believed that the animals should be put to good use. I already trained Diablo to the saddle. Furthermore, I intend to use him to breed better, stronger, faster horses. And this ranch, and this land, will be better because of him.”
Byron had no chance to respond. At Malachite’s words, Diamond demanded, “How did you know what Pa believed?”
“I found some of his letters in the attic. I discovered a lot about Onyx Jewel I never knew. I guess... I’m learning to understand my father.”
Diamond’s eyes glittered with unshed tears. She surprised everyone by flinging herself into his arms and hugging him fiercely. “Oh, Malachite. When you were talking, I swear I heard Pa’s voice coming out of your mouth.”
“Oui, chérie. It was the same for me,” Ruby muttered as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.
His sisters gathered around him, smiling, hugging, all talking at once.
Embarrassed, he tried to pull free.
Across the room, Millie couldn’t hold back the smile that tugged on her lips.
Seeing it, Malachite turned away and said gruffly, “Well, how about that visit to the barn now? Anybody care to see our dangerous mustang?”
Husbands and wives collected their children and followed Malachite out the door. Lavinia, Gladys and Effie strode after them, looking for all the world as though they were about to face the devil himself.
April and her sisters, eager to show off, danced ahead. Byron Conner turned back when he noticed that Millie had remained behind.
“Aren’t you coming?” he asked.
She shook her head and turned away, setting the kettle over the fire. “I’ll stay here and make some coffee. You go ahead.”
“What’s the matter?” he challenged. “Afraid?” She blanched, and he knew he’d hit a nerve.
“Of course not. But somebody has to fix a meal for company. With Carmelita gone, it’s up to me.”
He turned away with a knowing smile. So. For all her brave talk, she was afraid of the mustang.
Millie had just shown him a way to salvage his relationship with her and drive a wedge between her and the half-breed at the same time. Now he would wait and watch for the perfect opportunity.