To Wed In Texas

TWENTY-EIGHT

DANIEL SMELLED BLOOD AS HE CAME TO. HIS OWN blood, running down the side of his face. He felt for the cut along his forehead, shoving away a cloth that tried to stop the flow.

“You're bleeding.” Ida patted at the wound once more.

“It's nothing.” He tried to clear his head. “We have to find the rifles before they get back. It'll be our only bargaining tool for Karlee.”

The sadness in Ida's eyes made her look even older. “It doesn't matter,” she whispered. “They will kill us anyway. Just like they did my boy.”

Daniel held her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at his face. “You're the late preacher's mother. The one who was Altus's friend. You're the woman who disappeared after the preacher was shot.”

Ida nodded. “I knew whoever killed my son would come after me next.” Her accent evaporated as she spoke. “Since I'm German, it was easy for me to disappear into the settlement. For months, I told myself I wanted nothing to do with this town or its secrets. But the night of the fire, I came back like everyone else to help. I saw the way you fought for the church my son and Altus built. I could no longer stay away.”

“And the children who live in the barn with you are not yours.” Pieces were beginning to fit together for Daniel.

Ida held her head high. “They are now. My only son was shot down months ago. In the settlement out by the lake, I found children whose parents died in last winter's fever. Most of the young orphans were taken in by families, but the half-grown children were left to fend for themselves. I knew the boys would turn to robbing and the girls to worse. They are all mine now. They're all I have.”

Daniel wiped the tears from her wrinkled face. “Did Whiteley know who you were?”

Ida nodded. “I think I looked familiar to him the day he searched the house, but he didn't put it together until tonight. He caught me leaving.”

“You were looking for something, but not the guns.”

“I knew of no guns. I looked for a deed to prove the house mine, if such a thing exists. Karlee said you told her the house belonged to the church, but my son bought it the week we moved in. The week he died. Only I can't prove it without a deed. I didn't care at first, but now, with the children, I need a place.”

“I'll help you look later, I promise, right now we have to find the guns.” Daniel stood and helped Ida to her feet. “Karlee must have hidden them somewhere close. With Gerilyn and the twins here she couldn't have taken them far.”

“You've seen this stash of weapons Whiteley talks about?”

Daniel walked with her into the foyer and slid the panel aside. “Until yesterday, they were behind this wall. Altus must have built it when he did the house. Probably the only other person who knew about this hiding place was your son.” Daniel hated to ask, but it was necessary. “Was your son involved in the raids?”

Ida lowered her head. “A mother only wants to believe the best of her boy, but I think he was part of it for a short time. I may be German, but he was born in Tennessee right after I arrived in America. He was a man of God, but he was a Southerner, too. I think he thought raiding the supply wagons would stop some of the killing.”

Daniel listened as he moved through the downstairs rooms searching every place large enough to store even one rifle. He paid no notice of the boys sleeping in each room. He did, however, tap on the parlor door and wait until Valerie said sleepily, “Come in.”

As Daniel rummaged, Ida explained to Valerie and her mother what had happened. They followed in Daniel's wake searching everywhere he had in case he over-looked something the size of a rifle.

When he reached the kitchen, frustration echoed in his tone. “Where could she have hidden them?”

Ida's girls, who used the kitchen area by the fireplace as their bedroom, sat up and watched him as though he were no more than a part of their dreams.

“I've already looked in the barn and the upstairs for the deed,” Ida answered. “I'd have noticed one rifle, much less many.”

“Look again,” Daniel ordered. Valerie and her mother darted off, willing volunteers.

Sleepy Germans followed him as though he were the Pied Piper. The children mumbled among themselves while they wiped the sleep from their eyes and pulled on robes.

After opening the last cabinet, Daniel slammed his fists on the counter, rocking the walls with the blows. “I have to do something! They have Karlee!”

He ran blood-covered hands through his hair and reached for a towel. “I'm going after her.”

Ida's frail fingers reached out to stop him.

“Don't worry. I'll be back before dawn.” Daniel patted her hand. “I'd tell you to go somewhere safe, but I'm not sure any place in this town is safe tonight.”

Ida's older children moved around her, a youthful army. “We'll make sure that all in this house are protected,” one of the older boys said. In German, the young man began deploying his troops.

Never in his life had Daniel wished his brothers were closer. Wes and Adam were organizers, fighters. He'd always been the thinker. Even when he'd been wounded in the war, he was helping load men onto a wagon when shot, not fighting.

As he left the room, he asked one of the boys to hitch up the buggy. His leg was still too stiff to trust himself on horseback for hours, and when he found Karlee, he'd need something to bring her home in. He didn't even know if she knew how to ride.

As he opened the bottom drawer in his study, he realized how little he knew about her. He'd never asked, and she was not a woman who talked about herself. Did she ride? Could she shoot? Had she ever told another man she loved him? Why hadn't he taken the time to ask?

Daniel pulled out a gun belt Wes had given him for Christmas the year he'd turned eighteen. He'd shot the gun a few times at targets, but he'd never strapped on a weapon.

He was a man of peace. But they had Karlee!

Daniel belted the holster and checked the bullets.

Karlee watched the men. She could see them in the moonlight, but she knew they couldn't see her hidden in the shadows of the tree. As they slept, she sawed the rope against the bark, praying she could get free before they woke up.

Finally, the rope began to fray. Her wrists were raw and she felt near exhaustion, but frantically, she worked. She couldn't be sure of the time, but she guessed it was less than an hour before daylight when she freed her hands. The men would be waking any minute.

If she tried for the horses, they'd catch her. Assuming she could find the road, she'd never make it to town before daybreak. All Whiteley would have to do was ride by and pick her up. If she tried to go across country, she could be lost for days.

There was only one way to freedom. The river.

Karlee moved to the water's edge and slipped off her clothes. She buried them in the brush and mud. She'd worry about her lack of dress if she ever reached safety.

Slow as an alligator, she slipped into the water and began to swim toward the direction of town… she hoped.

Daniel thought he'd go mad looking for her. The Union had posted troops on every road into town waiting for Baker, but none remembered seeing Whiteley or any other men leaving in a wagon.

At the third post, Daniel ran into Wolf and told him what had happened.

Wolf reported vigilantes in flour-sack masks had broken into the local jail, kidnapping several men they claimed were murderers and about to get away with the crime because of the courts. Every lawman in the city was busy hunting them down.

To make matters worse, ruffians were looting, knowing their chances of getting caught were slim. They'd already broken into the bakery and several other businesses that had survived the fire. Wolf made sure they left the bakery empty-handed, but they'd still managed to damage the front of the store.

“Thank God, Valerie and her mother were at your place,” Wolf said before he realized they might be no safer there than anywhere.

“I'll get my horse and look west for Karlee. If I know men like Whiteley, they'll be headed for the least populated area to make camp. They won't want to go far, only far enough from town to feel comfortable. The west blockade had the fewest soldiers guarding it. If I don't find anything, I'll meet you back at your place an hour before dawn.”

Daniel nodded. “I'll search every barn in town, then move to the docks. If Whiteley stayed in town, there aren't that many places he can hide a wagon with a woman tied up in it.”

Wolf gripped Daniel's shoulder. “Don't worry, we'll find her.”

Daniel nodded wishing he believed everything would be fine. “I have to,” he answered. “I'm not sure I can live without this woman.”

Wolf grinned. “We'll find her. 'Til then, keep an angel on your shoulder, preacher, and your fist drawn until I'm there to cover your back.”

Daniel smiled as Wolf repeated the old oath his brothers always said when leaving. “I'll do that.”

Dawn danced off the surface of the bayou. Whiteley's camp was in a full panic. They were all running around like squirrels in a well, as if they'd somehow just misplaced Karlee.

“Where is she?” Miller yelled in frustration. He beat his bony fists against even bonier legs. “She couldn't have gone far in the dark.”

Whitely studied the ground looking for clues. Others paced to the water's edge and back.

“Maybe a gator came up from the bank and ate her,” Miller reasoned. “These cuts in the rope look like they could've been made by gator teeth.”

“What about blood, you idiot? If she were eaten, there'd be blood everywhere.”

Miller thought for a moment, then smiled a toothless grin. “Maybe the gator was real hungry and licked up all the blood when he finished. Kind of like a cat cleaning himself.”

Whiteley slapped Miller on the side of the head with the butt of his rifle. “Shut up! You're as dumb as a wart on a dead frog.”

Rubbed his scalp, Miller tried to act like he took offense at the remark. “Well, you got any better ideas?”

“She'd be too scared to go running through the dark and ever'body knows a woman can't swim.” He picked up the gag lying a few feet from the tree. “She's hiding around here somewhere. Spread out, men! We'll find her.”

Ten minutes later, all they'd found was Karlee's skirt and blouse.

“She done drowned herself!” Miller whined. “What a waste of a good killin'.”

Whiteley shook his head. “A woman don't strip and hide her clothes before she kills herself.”

Miller's eyebrows wrinkled together. “Then she's running around here naked!”

“Not likely,” the sergeant replied as he scratched his head in thought. “I don't think preacher's wives are allowed.”

Miller brightened. “Maybe the gator spit her clothes out after he ate her.”

Whiteley swung the butt of his rifle again, but this time Miller ducked. He was still smiling when the return flight caught him unexpectedly.

“Forget about the gator,” Whiteley ordered. “We can't go into town without the hostage. The preacher wouldn't give us the guns even if he has them.”

“What are we gonna do?” Miller rubbed both sides of his head. “What are we gonna do without the woman?”

The sergeant shook out the clothes and held them out toward Miller. “Get dressed.”

Three blows later, Miller decided it could be a plan after all. He was still mumbling about the gator when he lifted his skirt and climbed into the wagon.

They made it to within sight of town before Whiteley saw something in the road that made him pull up short.

One man, covered in hair and wearing a Ranger badge, stood before them. He looked like a giant. If God sent an avenging angel, this surely was one. Twin Colts hung from his waist, and a rifle rested against his shoulder.

“Morning, Sergeant Whiteley!” Wolf growled. “I almost didn't recognize you in civilian clothes.”

“This ain't your concern, Captain Wolf.” Whiteley was in no mood to visit. He'd tangled with the giant a few times in saloons. Rangers like him considered being outnumbered six to one as about even odds.

“There's where you're wrong, Sergeant. You see, Daniel McLain is as close to a brother as I got. I'd take it real unkindly if any harm came to his wife.”

“We ain't got his wife.” Whiteley shook his head so hard everything before him blurred… except the giant.

Wolf's rifle leveled at the men in the wagon. “I'll see for myself, but first, everyone out.”

Whiteley knew the six of them could all fire and kill Wolf before he could get more than two, maybe three of them. But he was too close to retirement to chance being one of the two or three. Besides, everyone in Texas knew Rangers were too mean to die. He'd heard rumors of a Ranger being wounded a half dozen times and still firing until his gun emptied.

Whiteley raised his hands and stepped down. One by one, the others followed. They were good at following orders, but not acting on their own.

Wolf took all their weapons and tossed them into the tall weeds fifty yards away like he was scattering half-pennies. When he was satisfied they were harmless, he moved to the back of the wagon and peeped inside.

The sight before Wolf made him laugh so hard he almost shot himself in the foot.

Miller swore loudly as he lifted his skirt and climbed out of the wagon to join the others.

“Where's Karlee?” Wolf asked when he finally gained control of himself.

“Miller lost her!” Whiteley shouted like a child caught in a playground fight. “I told him to tie her up, and he lost her.”

“Gators ate her.” Miller tried his theory again. “Must have spit out the dress.”

Wolf leveled the rifle once more. “I'll kill you all. Then when you're resting in the ground, I'll dig you up and shoot you again if you harmed that girl.”

“We didn't touch her.” Whiteley sounded offended that Wolf would even think such a thing. “The gators didn't eat her, neither. She just got away. I figured we'd try to get the guns by making the preacher believe that Miller was her in the wagon.”

Wolf reached in and tossed a rope to Miller. “Tie them up better than you did Karlee, or I swear I will feed you to an alligator myself.” Miller didn't move so Wolf added, “You know a gator doesn't like to kill you fast. He'll keep you alive for days chewing off one arm or leg at a time.”

Miller moved so fast he looked like he was dancing. When he finished tying the others, he held his hands out for Wolf. “You'll have to tie me.”

Wolf grabbed Miller's roll of clothes and tossed them as far as he could. “Nope. You ain't going anywhere dressed like that but to jail. All right, men. Start walking.”

“I can't go to jail in this!” Miller whined. “I'd rather die!”

Wolf cocked the rifle.

Miller's face paled. Quickly, he dusted the skirt off and started walking toward town with the others.