Bounty Hunter

CHAPTER 19

Over the next few days, Luke struggled against the impatience he felt as he looked for another sign that his legs might be improving. Any time he was alone at the cabin, he moved them as much as he could, sometimes unconsciously straining his other muscles until he was breathing hard and sweat popped out on his face. He rubbed his legs and then pounded on them in frustration when they failed to respond as much as he wanted them to.

One day he lifted himself out of the chair with his crutches, then let them fall to the sides in the hope he could force himself to stand.

He fell on his face.

And struggled hard to push himself up with the crutches to get back in the chair.

He didn’t give up. He worked at it every day and would continue as long as it took.

He didn’t say a word about his efforts to Emily or her grandfather. If he failed—again—he didn’t want them to know about it. There would be time enough later to fill them in if he was successful in learning to walk again.

Emily continued to exercise the muscles in his legs, massaging and working them back and forth.

Several days after his fall she noticed a change. “It may be my imagination, Luke, but it seems to me like your legs are getting stronger rather than weaker.”

“Really? Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, real good. I knew it was just a matter of time before you started healin’ up.”

He thought she was just trying to be encouraging, but maybe she was more right than she knew. Whenever Emily and her grandfather weren’t around and Luke was on his crutches, he let more of the weight of his body rest on his legs.

At first they had buckled, but as the days went on he was able to stiffen them and partially support himself more than he could before. He still didn’t say anything to Emily or her grandfather. Hope and resolve filled him, but he was wary.

One evening while Emily was inside cleaning up after supper, Luke sat in the rocker on the porch and the old man sat on the steps. Peabody filled his pipe and lit it, then said quietly enough that Emily wouldn’t overhear, “I spotted some fellas on horseback watchin’ the place today.”

Luke tensed, hearing the worry in the old-timer’s voice. “Soldiers?”

“Nope. Civilians. I didn’t get a very good look at ’em, but I could tell that much.”

“What do you reckon they wanted?”

Peabody shook his head. “Don’t know, but Bud Harkness come by today and talked to me. Bud’s got the next farm over. He says there’s some problem with the taxes and he might lose his place.”

“Didn’t he pay them?”

“He did . . . but the judge the Yankees put in charge of such things says that Bud didn’t pay enough. It’s a blamed lie ... but he’s a judge.”

“What’s this fellow Harkness going to do?” Luke asked.

“What can he do? He can stay and fight, or he can leave.” Peabody puffed on the pipe for a second or two in silence, then went on. “Bud’s got five kids and another on the way. He can’t afford to get himself killed.”

“So he’s going to pack up and leave?”

“I expect so. That’s the smart thing to do.”

“If they’re after his place . . .”

“This one’s next in line,” Peabody said, his voice heavy. “That’s who I think was watchin’ us today. Somebody who works for the varmint who’s got his eye on this place.”

“You happen to know who that is?”

Peabody turned his head to look at Luke in the fading light.

“Wolford.”

The answer didn’t surprise Luke. Vincent Wolford had stepped in to help them that day in Dobieville when they’d had the trouble with the soldiers, but he had seen through the man’s slick façade to the predator underneath. Weighing his words carefully, Luke said, “Maybe Harkness has the right idea. There’s Emily to think of—”

“You mean you think we should run, too?” Peabody snapped. “That ain’t the way you sounded the last time we talked about this, son.”

“I know. I just don’t want anything bad to happen to Emily.”

“You think I do? But you got to remember this . . . gettin’ her to leave wouldn’t be easy. This land . . . well, look at it this way. When her pa and her brothers went off to fight, they figured they were doin’ it to protect our home. This land. Emily still sees it the same way. She’ll feel like she has to defend it, too, just like they did.”

Luke understood that. He felt the same way about the Jensen farm in Missouri. So would his pa and Kirby.

There was no good answer. None at all.

Emily appeared in the doorway behind them, drying her hands on a cloth. “What are the two of you talkin’ about so serious-like?”

“Who says we’re talkin’ serious?” her grandfather said. “I was just tellin’ Luke a joke.”

“I didn’t hear anybody laughin’.”

“That’s because I ain’t got to the funny part yet.” Peabody turned to Luke. “So then the farmer says, ‘You’re all mixed up, mister. That there’s my prize hog.’” He slapped a hand on his thigh and hooted with laughter.

Luke threw back his head and laughed, too, even though on the inside he had seldom felt grimmer.

Using the crutches, Luke lifted himself from the chair and stood beside the table. He took a deep breath and let go of the crutches, allowing them to fall to the sides like he had done before. As they thumped on the floor, he stood with his hands spread, trying to balance himself.

He didn’t fall immediately. He felt the weight on his legs, felt the muscles struggling to support him. But they began to give out, and he had to slap his palms down on the table to hold himself up. Even that was progress, he thought as his pulse pounded in his head. He hadn’t collapsed. Yes, he was leaning on the table, but he was still standing.

A footstep sounded on the porch.

Luke turned his head toward the door, and as he did so, his legs folded up underneath him. He tried to catch himself on the table, but wound up lying on the floor between the chair and the table.

Emily came in and saw him there. “Damn it all to—” She stopped herself. She had been trying to stop cursing so much lately.

He thought maybe she had decided it wasn’t ladylike. . . as if acting more like a lady might have become more important to her.

She rushed over to him and bent to take hold of him. “Lord have mercy, Luke, what happened? How did you manage to fall?”

“Don’t worry about that,” he snapped, furious at himself for letting her distract him. “Just help me up.”

He saw the quick flash of hurt in her eyes and wished he could call back the sharp words, but they were already out there. He couldn’t do a thing about them except add in a softer tone, “Please, Emily.”

As she lifted him, he reached up and grabbed hold of the table. With it to support him, she was able to get him back into the chair.

“I’ll pick up your crutches.”

He held out a hand to stop her. “I can get them. Thank you.”

She looked at him with a slight frown. “Were you trying to walk, Luke? I’ve told you, I don’t care about that, not for me. I want it for you, but it’s not going to make any difference how I feel—”

“Of course it makes a difference. It’s bound to.” Luke frowned at her.

“No,” she said as she leaned closer to him. “I swear to you, it doesn’t. I’ll prove it to you.”

Before he could stop her, she lowered herself onto his lap, her arms clasped around his neck, and her mouth pressed hungrily to his.

Luke bit back a groan of mingled despair and desire. His arms went around her. She was such a little bit of a thing, yet the curves of her body were those of a woman. Her lips worked urgently against his, their taste sweet and hot.

As he held her and kissed her, he felt something, no doubt about that.

She did too. Pulling back slightly, her eyes widened. He was about to apologize, but a pleased glow sprang to life in her eyes. “See, Luke,” she whispered. “I told you it didn’t matter.”

She kissed him again, then slid out of his arms and stood up.

“Grampaw might be comin’ in any time, so we’ll save our sparkin’ for later.”

Luke nodded. After everything Linus Peabody had done for him, he didn’t want to offend the old-timer.

Peabody hurried in a short time later, all right, as Emily had predicted. He wore a worried expression on his face, and it quickly became obvious the last thing on his mind was who was sparking his granddaughter. “There’s a buggy and some riders comin’.” He reached for the rifle hanging on the wall near the door.

“Yankee soldiers again?” Emily asked, her body tensing as she stood next to the stove where she had started supper.

Peabody shook his head as he checked to make sure the rifle was loaded.

“Nope. It’s that fella Wolford, and unless I miss my guess, the men he’s got with him are hired guns.”