Rain Shadow (Dutch Country Brides) Page 17

  She stepped back, hands slowly falling from his waist, and looked up.

  “One of us will stay here with you,” he stated softly.

  “No. The more of you who work, the sooner you’ll have the well dug.”

  He ran his hand across his jaw. “I can’t leave you alone.”

  “Anton. I’m a better shot than any of you,” she said, and wondered belatedly if she’d wounded his male pride again.

  “Better than all of us put together, probably,” he said with a wry shrug that reassured her. That steel-bright blue gaze fixed on her, guarded, unfathomable. “Will you be okay?”

  She nodded. She’d be okay...at least for the moment.

  * * *

  It had been dark an hour, but the men had taken lanterns. Lydia had come and helped milk earlier, and Rain Shadow had asked how to use the stove and oven. Now she cleared away the dishes from the simple meal she’d prepared for herself and the boys.

  “I have to use the outhouse, Ma.” Slade hopped across the kitchen, the crutch Johann had made him tucked under one arm.

  “Get your jackets, both of you. This is your last trip for the night.” She slipped into her coat and buckled on her holster, checking her revolver for the tenth time.

  Their breath puffed out ahead of them, Slade’s huffing in gusts because of his rapid hopping. “Look how big the moon is!” Nikolaus exclaimed, stopping, and Slade ran into his back. The two of them chortled and ducked into the outhouse. Rain Shadow studied the silhouette of the farmhouse in the moonlight.

  She had to leave. Endangering the Neubauers, disrupting their lives was inexcusable. Slade was getting by on his crutch. There was no reason to stay any longer.

  After her turn, they headed back, twigs snapping beneath their feet. A vague scent teased her nostrils, raised the hair on the back of her neck. Cigar smoke, expensive and distinctive. Had it only been her imagination?

  “Stop,” she whispered.

  Ahead of her the boys froze obediently, straining to hear or see what she saw. She sniffed the air, listened to the brittle maple branches clicking in the brisk wind. In the distance a calf bawled.

  “It’s nothing. Go on.” She scurried them onto the back porch. “Lock the door while I check the horses.”

  Crossing the dooryard, she pulled her collar over her chin and settled her flat-brimmed hat more securely on her head. Loping up the grade toward the barn, the dooryard pitched and rolled in the sway of lantern light. Ahead, a horse nickered. Intuition prickled at Rain Shadow’s scalp.

  In a split second, she drew and aimed dead center of the figure ahead.

  Twenty feet from the corner of the barn, Miguel stood beside the animal. In the cold, pale moonlight the silver conches on his saddle glittered. He wore a hat much like hers.

  Rain Shadow seethed with anger. How dare he show up here again! Why couldn’t he leave her alone to get on with her life? What on earth was the morbid attraction he held for her? She drew a cleansing breath to calm herself. “What do you want?”

  “You do not believe I wanted to apologize?”

  “Some apology.”

  “The farmer made a mistake.”

  “I made the mistake, Miguel, in ever getting involved with you in the first place.”

  He struck a match, cupped his bare hands around it and lit a long, thin cheroot, illuminating his stark features in sharp relief. He blew out the match, and the cigar tip glowed orange in the darkness. “Si, I made a mistake, too. I still wish for you to hear me out.”

  How could she ever have fallen for his smooth line? The thought that she’d been intimate with the man at one time revolted her. “Talk.”

  “Put the gun away and we will talk.”

  “Talk, Miguel.”

  “You are in such a hurry, little one.” He took a half step toward her, stopped by the sound of her hammer cocking. “Very well. I want you to marry me.”

  “You chose another woman over me” she blurted.

  “But I am no longer married to the comtesse. ”

  “Did you find riper pickings?”

  He paused before answering. “She did.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “It is difficult to believe she liked another man better. I regret my mistakes, and I want you now.”

  “Even if that were true, I wouldn’t marry you.”

  “No?” He puffed, and the moonlight illuminated a drifting smoke ring.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m already married.”

  He was silent for a long minute. “The farmer?”

  “The farmer,” she agreed, hating herself for using Anton again, but helpless to stop.

  He studied the end of his cheroot. “And the child?”

  “The child is his.”

  “How can that be?”

  “I believe you know where children come from. I met Anton after the London tour,” she lied again. “He was married to another woman at the time, and was very unhappy. We fell in love. I knew it was wrong so I left. I didn’t want our baby to bring scandal to Anton and his family. I learned recently that she’d died, so I came to see for myself.”

  “How convenient.”

  “You can see there’s no reason for you to hang around any longer. I’m not leaving.”

  “Do you not have a contest in the spring?”

  So, he knew about that. “We will travel to Philadelphia, but I’ll return. This is my home now.”

  The cigar glowed eerily against the darkness, and the acrid scent assaulted her nostrils.

  “Sleep with me, then. Tonight while he is gone.”

  Disgust shrouded her heart, shock sinking into every cell. How could she have been enamored of this contemptible person? How could she have let him touch her? Anger seared a red-hot blur before her eyes, and she prayed he didn’t make a move until it cleared. “You’re insane.”

  “Not at all. I want you. I will settle for making love to you one last time.”

  “You don’t love me.”

  “I want you.”

  Rain Shadow had never shot a person in her life. She’d shot animals—foxes, squirrels, birds of all feather. She’d killed a wolf once. She imagined pulling the trigger now, seeing Miguel jerk as the bullet hit his body. She pictured him on the ground, his life’s blood oozing from a neat hole.

  She hated him. Despised him.

  But she couldn’t do it.

  Leveling the barrel, she took careful aim in the bleached moonlight. A split second later, Ruiz’ hat jerked into the air.

  Miguel flinched and shot a glance over his shoulder in the direction his hat had sailed.

  “The next bullet will be between your hateful eyes,” she spat. “Get out of here, and don’t come back.”

  Slowly, he mounted his horse, sat the saddle tall and straight. “You frustrate me, querida, but never doubt I will be back.” The horse turned away at his invisible command. “You have something I want,” he said over his shoulder.

  “Mama, what was that shot? Are you out there?”

  In horror, Rain Shadow turned and saw Slade step into the circle of lantern light. “Slade, go back to the house. Now!”

  Miguel guided the stallion in a semicircle, turning back. Heart thudding, Rain Shadow shot a glance to make certain Slade was gone, and relief surged into her soul.

  Miguel’s horse snorted and broke into a run. She listened to the hoof beats fade into the distance. He wasn’t finished. His threat seized her in its unholy talons. She could only pray he believed the lie about her son’s parentage. If he ever saw Slade up close, he would know the truth. Slade was dark like her, but his black eyes and narrow, handsome face were Miguel’s. What then? What if he knew he’d fathered her child? He would use him toward his ultimate purpose. He could take him to spite her—spirit him away somewhere— and do it legally.

  “Mama, is he gone?”

  Her son’s anxious voice brought quick tears to her throat. She swallowed. Nothing woul
d happen to him as long as she drew breath. “He’s gone. I told you to go back to the house.”

  “I couldn’t leave you alone.”

  She walked to where he stood. “I should punish you for not minding me.” Instead, she bent and hugged him close. “Go in with Nikky now.”

  He pushed away and hopped toward the house. If she left, Miguel would follow. She couldn’t expose Slade to that danger.

  Several silent minutes passed before she heard hoof beats growing steadily closer from the opposite direction Miguel had gone. Anton appeared, followed closely by Franz and Two Feathers. Relief washed over her.

  With unsteady hands, she hung the lantern on the outside of the barn. She drew a deep breath and met them on the drive.

  Anton took one long, assessing look at her and slid from his horse. “Ruiz?”

  She nodded. “He’s gone.”

  “I will stay with you tonight, daughter.” Winded, Two Feathers slid from his mount.

  “We were fools to let him trick us like this!” Anton swore, picked up a rock from the drive and pitched it forcefully into the darkness.

  “I agree.” Franz spoke from atop his horse. “But I don’t think he’ll be back tonight. I’m heading home.”

  Rain Shadow watched him gallop down the drive, ashamed of the extra work and concern she’d put the family through. Two Feathers walked his mount toward the corral.

  “Anton.”

  Obviously irritated, he turned toward her, hand on hip. “What.”

  “I’ll marry you.” The words hung between them so long, she wondered if he’d heard her. He exhaled, a long white gust releasing some emotion she wondered at. “Tomorrow?”

  Tomorrow? “Is that possible?”

  “We’ll ride into town—or Pittsburgh if you’d rather.”

  “Either. I don’t care.”

  “Butler is closer. We’ll all go together.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “There’s a lawyer I’ve talked to about adopting him. We can fill out the papers after the ceremony.”

  She found her voice. “You want to adopt Slade?”

  “It’s a sure way to see that Ruiz has no rights. You’ll say Slade’s real father died, and we’ll sign the papers. They’ll go to Philadelphia and be returned for the final signatures within a month.”

  “What about...?”

  “What?”

  She peered at him from beneath the brim of her hat. “What will happen after this ordeal is over? I mean, when Miguel is gone.”

  “We can have the marriage annulled.”

  She remembered his previous explanation, the part about not consummating the marriage. “Oh.”

  He slid his hat off, combed his fingers through his hair and settled the Stetson once again.

  She glanced toward the house, considering the restraint and frustration involved. Feeling as she did about Anton, would it be possible to share a house without touching? Kissing? Without giving in to the feelings she had for him? Only if his self-control was much stronger than hers.

  From a dark, hidden corner of her mind, worry about making Slade Anton’s legal son hovered, too. She couldn’t think about that right now. Protecting him came first. She would deal with other matters when the time arose.

  “Tomorrow, then. Good night, Anton.”

  “’Night.”

  He watched her small figure walk to the house. Her acceptance of his help had been imperative—he’d been almost desperate for her to go along with this marriage plan. But why was he marrying another woman who didn’t love him? He’d be marrying for the sake of convenience when he knew the risk involved.

  He’d been prepared to marry Sissy for convenience. This was the same difference, only better—he knew ahead of time this marriage wouldn’t last. This time, knowing it was a sham—both of them knowing it was a sham—he wouldn’t knock himself out to please her. He wouldn’t have to try to figure out how to make it work, because it wouldn’t matter. He’d get rid of Ruiz, see Slade’s future started off on the right foot and be done with it.

  Then he could think about Helena McLaury again. Somehow, the thought held even less appeal than before.

  “Okay,” he said out loud. But be careful. You know what she does to you. You know how you react when you get close to her. You don’t need the trouble. “I’ll be careful,” he promised the moon.

  * * *

  Rain Shadow glanced at Anton beside her atop his bay. Her husband. Just like the couples in the wagon behind them, they were man and wife—united by the white man’s Justice of the Peace, a legal document signed and folded and tucked into Anton’s vest pocket.

  The first of December was as good as any day for a wedding, she guessed. A few snowflakes fell as she and Anton rode home from Butler on horseback. Rain Shadow huddled inside her Hudson Bay blanket coat, a gift from Will the winter before. On the crisp air, voices lifted in song. Songs of shepherds and the Christ child, the Neubauer men’s resonant voices joining their wives’, Lydia’s spine- tingling soprano carrying the highest notes when the others backed off.

  Anton had explained the plan to his family, and they’d gone along with the theatrics as if they were real. Once the justice had pronounced them man and wife, Anton had laid his cheek alongside hers, as if some gesture was expected of him. Her temporary in-laws had embraced her as though she were really one of the family, Two Feathers merely nodding sagely.

  What was Anton thinking now? Feeling?

  What should a man feel on his wedding day? Anton avoided her eyes, squinting instead at the low-hanging gray sky. How had he felt after marrying Emily? Eager. Proud. Hopeful, no doubt. How different the emotions beneath the calm exterior he presented today were. Rash. Unsure. Cheated.

  What should a woman feel on her wedding day? Rain Shadow imagined Annette and Lydia’s joy at marrying the men they loved. There was nothing joyful about her union with Anton, and she’d been numb since she’d made the decision, going through the motions without feeling anything.

  Locked in. Guilty. Lonely. Heavyheartedness descended on her, as oppressive as the storm clouds gathering overhead. She observed the boys, knowing they were the most vulnerable characters in this charade. Even though she had explained the situation to them more than once, they smiled as smugly as if they’d thought of the plan themselves and hoped they could remain brothers.

  She didn’t want to be another dark cloud over their heads, but she resigned herself to reminding the children constantly. As soon as the situation cleared, she and Slade would move on. They all had their own lives to lead. The Neubauers had been kind enough to care for Slade, even to the extreme of carrying out this hoax for his protection, but she couldn’t expect them to be patient and generous forever.

  Once at the homestead, the women set out a meal, and Rain Shadow naturally discovered her place at Anton’s side. She ate beside him, feeling like an impostor. By the time she’d helped clear and wash the dishes, the men had a fire blazing in the parlor, popcorn popped and the checkers out. Jakob played his fiddle, and even Rain Shadow was drawn into a dance around the room.

  The night drew to a close, the children growing sleepy. Jakob and Franz bundled their families off into the darkness.

  “We have a surprise for you,” Johann announced, turning into the parlor.

  Anton glanced up from the sofa where he sat finger-combing Nikky’s hair. His son laid contentedly, head on Anton’s thigh. “What is it?”

  “You’ll have to come out back with us,” Anton’s father said with a sly grin.

  “Tonight?”

  “Yep.”

  Immediately, Nikolaus and Slade were wide awake, eagerly bringing their parents’ coats and hats and donning their own.

  Rain Shadow pulled her collar over her chin and followed. They veered east of the barn and stopped before the cabin she’d seen and believed their fathers were using.

  Johann pushed the door open and carried the lantern in, the others following. Placing the light on a trestle t
able, he lit another lamp, revealing the interior. The immaculately clean cabin was roomy, furnished with old but sturdy tables and chairs. A stove and cabinet identified the cooking area, rocking chairs and oval braided rugs offering a place of comfort near the fireplace.

  Rain Shadow studied her surroundings with surprise. “Whose home is this?”

  Anton’s boots rapped on the stone hearth. “This is the place my grandfather built when they first got the farm. Pa was born in there.”

  Rain Shadow stepped through the bedroom doorway. An enormous rope bed stood in the center of the room, a colorful quilt spread across its foot.

  “Do you like it, Ma?” Slade asked, tugging at her wrist.

  “Of course. It’s very nice. Seems so warm and comfortable.” She could picture Anton’s grandmother moving about these rooms, cooking over the fire and setting meals on the table. “No wonder Grampa and Johann have spent so much time out here.” She smiled.

  “It’s for us, Ma,” Slade said enthusiastically. “Ain’t it somethin’?”

  She stared at her son without comprehension.

  “We fixed it up for you,” Johann explained. “There’s more to do, but we figured you could do the rest yourself. Make it seem more like home, that way. There’s dishes in the attic back at the house.” His desire to please her was evident in the uncertain smile he offered. She stared into faded blue eyes. He looked endearingly like Anton, stooped only slightly with age.

  She shot Two Feathers a glance, but he’d drawn a mask over his chiseled Lakota features. He stared calmly, waiting for her reaction. Everyone waited, she realized.

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “We can stay here,” Nikky supplied. “You’n Slade and me’n Pa. Won’t it be great?” He yanked his coat and hat off excitedly. “C’mon, Slade, let’s go get our beds ready! Oh, yeah.” He retrieved his coat and hung it on a peg near the door.

  Slade followed his example, forgetting the crutch in his enthusiasm. They ran to a ladder leading to the loft above.