Twice a Texas Bride (27 page)

“Callie, open up.”

The sound of Rand's voice filled her with relief. She laid down the Winchester and pushed the table away from the door. With trembling hands, Callie let him in. The minute he stepped inside, she threw her arms around his neck.

“You made it. You're alive.”

“Indeed I am, and you're a sight to behold.” His lips brushed her cheek before they found her mouth.

“Papa, I missed you,” Toby cried, burrowing between them.

Rand lifted him up. “I missed you too, son.”

“I thought my old papa done killed you.” Toby patted Rand's cheeks as though to assure himself that his new papa was alive.

“He's not going to kill me. I'm not going to let him. I have to make sure you and Wren grow up healthy and happy, because that's what papas do.” Rand hugged him tightly, then put him down. Going to the cradle, he picked up Wren and held the child in his arms as gently as he would a priceless piece of china.

Callie's throat tightened. He adored his children and they him. If fate would be so benevolent as to deliver Mariah to her, she knew Rand would accept her daughter just as readily.

Letting her joy swallow her fears, she hurried to put coffee on. She knew the man she'd married, and he was kind and loving. “Rand, I know you're exhausted and hungry, but once you've eaten, I want to hear every detail of what happened after we parted.”

Though everything in her yearned to ask about Mariah, she held her tongue. Toby didn't need to hear this. The boy was hanging on by a thread.

Troubled blue eyes met hers, and she knew Rand wouldn't have good news.

“Yes, we'll talk in a bit, darlin'.” He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Right now I need to rest a bit and eat.”

Her gaze warmed as she watched him. He stood Wren up on her wobbly little legs in his lap, and the three-month-old was trying her best to stick her chubby fingers into Rand's mouth. Toby crowded close, vying for his share of attention, all the while telling his new papa how he guarded the baby.

Earlier, Callie had seen the terror in Toby's eyes when she made it safely inside the house. It was no stretch to know that he'd thought he'd lost the people he loved most. He knew his father and realized better than anyone what Nate was capable of. Toby had witnessed the killings that Nate had never tried to hide and still lived with the horror.

A mist covered her vision. She stored up the sight of her family. Something told her she'd need it later to sustain her.

* * *

After Rand ate and gave his children his undivided attention until the baby fell asleep and Toby wandered off to his room to play, he took Callie's hand and led her upstairs to their sanctuary, their respite from the world.

Though it was only midday, they needed this privacy to talk. Rand closed the bedroom door and pulled her against his chest. Burying his face in her hair, he breathed her sweet fragrance. They stood locked in each other's embrace with only the ticking of the clock to remind him that time marched on.

Several long minutes passed before he moved. He simply wanted to hold her, to feel her heart beating wildly against his chest. Finally, he kissed her upturned face. When her lips parted slightly, he slipped his tongue inside.

She was truly his life, and he didn't know how he'd ever breathe again if he lost her.

“I couldn't wait to touch you,” he murmured into her ear.

“Promise you'll always hold me,” she whispered. “Even if you get angry and don't want to talk, hold me.”

“Darlin', I find the idea of ever being mad at you utterly ridiculous. Nope, ain't gonna happen.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Not in this lifetime.”

“Never say never.” She stepped out of the circle of his arms. “Tell me what happened. Where is my daughter? Did you see her?”

Rand pulled her toward the bed and sat down beside her, taking her hand. “All hell broke loose when Nate and I rode from the barn. I slapped Crow Bait on the rump and the horse took off at a gallop. I rode for the cover of the trees. When Nate's brothers hightailed after him, I followed. They untied Nate in the nearest clearing, then continued on to Limestone Bluff, about two miles from here. The outlaws squeezed through a narrow opening between some rocks, and I couldn't follow without being noticed. Have a feeling that's where they're holed up.”

Rand knew what she really wanted to know most of all. He'd have given anything on earth to put a smile on her face and regretted he couldn't do that yet. “I saw Mariah. Darlin', she looks just like you. Such a pretty little girl. I never had an opening to grab her without putting the child in grave danger.”

Callie gave a strangled sob. “But they're not hurting her?”

“No. I don't think they've had her long. I was able to get pretty close to her once, and she appeared unhurt—just shivering from the cold.”

He didn't share his fear that the child who carried Callie's blood in her veins would surely suffer the outlaws' wrath. No mother should have to hear that.

Callie sucked in a quick breath. “She's not wearing a coat?”

How like her to fret about Mariah being warm enough. “No, she wasn't. I'll go back after I'm sure you and the children are safe. I won't leave you unprotected. Though it's Sunday, Cooper probably rode into town to check on things this morning. We'll watch for him passing back by.” He laid his hand along her jaw and leaned closer, focusing on the rosy lips that drew him like iron to a magnet.

Pounding on the bedroom door jarred them apart. “Papa, your horse is here. Crow Bait has come back.”

Rand jumped to his feet and jerked the door open. “Thanks, Toby.”

The boy's face had drained of color. He stood silently aside and allowed Rand to race downstairs ahead of him.

Sure enough, Crow Bait stood quivering by the barn. Lather covered the gelding's back. Rand drew his Colt, opened the kitchen door, and cautiously stepped out. He froze when he heard the whisper of Callie's skirts behind him.

“Go back inside, Callie,” he said without turning around. “It could be a trap.”

“All right, but if I hear shooting, I'm coming to help.”

Satisfied at last that she, Toby, and the baby were out of harm's way, Rand proceeded toward the horse, ready to fire at the first sign of movement.

He zeroed in on the strip of brown fabric tied to Crow Bait's mane. No one had to tell him what the dark stains were. Blood spread over his fingers when he released it from the horsehair. Inside the rolled up fabric was a scrap of paper.

My son for the girl. Or she'll bleed more.

A muscle in Rand's jaw worked. How in God's name was he supposed to show this to Callie? Her worst nightmare had come true. They'd hurt her daughter.

With clenched fists, he stared toward the bluff where Fleming and his brothers had disappeared and yelled, “You better hide, you murdering piece of scum. I'm coming for you.”

Cruel laughter echoed from the trees.

Leaning against the window, Callie clapped her hands over her ears to block out the evil laugh that sent chills through her bones.

Curled up in a tight ball over in a corner, Toby shook uncontrollably. He'd recognized the voice as well. “Honey, I know how frightened you are, and I wish I could hold you, but Papa Rand is out there unprotected and he needs me. He needs us. Try to be strong for me and for your papa. Can you go check on your baby sister for me?”

With no time to see if her words had made a difference, she snatched up the rifle. Opening the door a crack, she stuck the weapon out.

Just then, gunshots rang out.

Horror-stricken, she watched Rand climb onto Crow Bait's bare back and race toward her. Thank goodness he'd already shoved the table out of the way when he went out.

She readied to do whatever she needed to, praying the bullets would miss her husband, the love of her life. As he pulled to a stop by the steps and leaped off the animal, she threw the door open wide and he tumbled inside. Slamming it shut, she helped Rand shove the table back into place.

“Are you all right, Rand? Did they hit you?” Her eyes swept the length of him and settled on the bright spot staining his shoulder. “You're bleeding!”

“Just a scratch. I'll live.” Rand sat down on the floor, breathing hard, his eyes fixed on their son. “Go see to Toby.”

Callie nodded and moved over to comfort the boy.

The second she knelt down beside the child, he flung himself into her arms. “He's gonna kill us, ain't he, Mama?”

“No, sweet boy. He might try, but he's not going to succeed. Not ever.” Callie smoothed Toby's black hair, which was so much like his rotten father's, and murmured soothing words.

Long minutes passed before his shaking stopped and she could free herself from his grasp. “I've got to help your papa, now,” she said softly. “We won't leave you.”

Though fear still glittered in Toby's eyes, he nodded. Keeping low, she crawled over to where Rand slumped.

Feeling Rand's back, she found the entrance wound. Checking the hole in the front, she breathed a sigh of relief. The bullet had gone through. She carefully removed Rand's shirt, and when she did, the scrap of brown fabric she'd seen him untying from Crow Bait's mane fell out.

A piece of paper fluttered to the floor. When she saw the words, fear squeezed her heart as though it were caught in a vise.

My son for the girl. Or she'll bleed more.

She clutched the scrap of bloodstained cloth. Dear God, what had Nate done?

Seven years ago, she hadn't fought hard enough for her daughter. She raised her chin. Whatever befell her now, whatever she had to face, she was not going to abandon Mariah again. She had to find a way to save the child she loved more than her own life.

“Callie, I'm sorry.” Rand's raspy words seemed to have gotten bruised when they squeezed through his throat. He covered her bloodstained hand with his. “We're going to get her. Hold fast to that.”

“I'm trying,” she whispered brokenly.

“Fleming won't kill her. That's his hold over us. He's a lot of things, but he's not stupid. We have something he wants, and the only way to get Toby is to keep Mariah alive.”

She gave a quick nod, cleared her head, and rummaged around for the things she needed to tend to Rand's injury. When she raised her head a little too high, giving the shooter outside a target, a bullet shattered the kitchen window.

She'd managed to get the bucket of water and some clean rags, though. While she washed the wound, Toby scooted across the floor and laid his head on Rand's leg, just wanting to be near. Callie ached for the little boy and the innocence that Nate had stolen.

“I'm sorry you got hurt, Papa.”

Rand laid one of his big hands on the boy's head. “Don't you worry. It's going to be all right.”

Toby sniffled. “Yeah, but when? Why won't he leave us alone?”

“I wish I knew, son. Guess he can't give up.”

“Who is Mariah?”

Callie's fingers stilled. Toby had overheard them. Now he'd feel responsible for something else he had no control over. She laid her hand on his head. “Mariah is an innocent, sweet little girl about your age, but you don't need to worry about her. That's our job.”

With eyes wide in his pale face, Toby sat up. “My father's got her?”

“Yes,” Rand answered, shrugging back into his shirt. “But not for long.”

“We gotta go get her. Right now. Before…” Toby jumped to his feet, scrambling for the door.

Rand grabbed his arm before he got out of reach. “You're not going anywhere, son. I'll take care of it.”

Tears ran down the boy's face as he tried to yank free. “Let me go. I hafta—”

“You'll stay here where it's safe,” Rand said gently, holding Toby close. “I'll handle it, son.”

Toby's torment splintered Callie's heart. “Toby, if we let you go out there, then he'd have both of you. It's not a solution, sweetheart.”

“He wants me, an' once he has me, he'll let her go,” Toby reasoned. “I can save her. I know how he is an' how to stay out of his way.”

Though Toby spoke the truth, Callie knew he'd never seen this amount of rage and hate in Nate before. She doubted anyone had.

That her son was willing to put himself in such danger for a girl he didn't know spoke of the immense depth of his heart. He was going to make quite a man. Unshed tears burned Callie's eyes. How could she make him understand that sacrificing himself would not free Mariah? Nate would destroy both children without a sliver of remorse.

“No, son, you can't fix this.” Rand looked as miserable as Callie felt. “I know you think you're to blame for this situation, but you aren't. You can't make your father do what you want. Even if you could, I'm not going to let you.”

The life drained from Toby and he went limp. “He'll kill 'er, then. I saw it before.”

Chills raced through Callie. His solemn, simple statement held too much truth. Her reply was fierce. “No, he won't. We're going to fight with everything we have for Mariah. Besides, we have a few secret weapons.”

A glimmer of hope replaced the dull despair in Toby's eyes. “We do?”

“Uncle Brett and Uncle Cooper and all their friends will come help,” Callie said with much more confidence than she felt.

The boy's deep sigh filled the quiet. “I sure wish they'd hurry.”

That made three of them. After cleaning and binding Rand's wound, Callie moved everything aside to put away later.

Rand drew his shirt back on. “I think the front of the house would be safer, and we can watch the road for Cooper. He should be passing by soon.”

Careful of the window, Callie helped him stand. They got the baby, and all four of them moved into the parlor.

With the ticking clock on the mantel loud in the room, she sat by the window with the Winchester propped on her lap. Rand occupied a chair nearby at the other window with another rifle and his Colt. Toby played quietly with Wren. When they spoke, they kept their voices low, as though Nate and his brothers might hear and charge into the house with guns blazing.

Two o'clock in the afternoon came and went.

No sign of anyone on the road.

No shooting outside.

No one dared to move. It was as if they hung suspended over a wide chasm and any sound or movement might send them plummeting over the edge.

Though Toby didn't complain, she knew the toll this took on him. Feeling responsible somehow for what his father did, he carried a huge weight on his young shoulders. What was worse, she didn't know anything she could say that would lift his burden.

Three o'clock.

After Callie changed the baby, she and Rand went to the kitchen. While he kept watch, she made another bottle using the canned milk. The remaining can on the shelf sent ripples of concern through Callie. What would the child do when they ran out? How would they stifle Wren's hungry cries? Callie said a quick prayer for help.

Once she had the bottle in hand, she and Rand returned to the parlor, where she fed the babe and put her down for a nap.

“Is anyone hungry? Rand, I could fix you something.”

His blue eyes met hers. “Not hungry, darlin', but Toby probably is.”

Toby looked up from the floor where he was staring at some carved wooden soldiers and his spinning top. He shook his head. “Do I hafta?”

“No,” Callie assured him. “Just let me know when you want something.”

Three thirty.

“I need to check your bandage. See if you're bleeding, Rand.” Callie moved to the chair where he sat. Some blood had seeped through the wrappings. She gathered more clean cloths and rebound the wound.

Four o'clock and still no sign of anyone on the road. Callie's nerves couldn't take much more of this endless wait.

The sun would go down soon. When it did, Nate and his brothers would likely mount an assault. Would they be able to hold them off by themselves?

At five o'clock, with no glimpse of Cooper, Rand stood, strode for his coat, and put it on.

“Where are you going?” Callie's heart pounded with fear.

“Outside to take a look around.”

“Rand, it's too dangerous. You're hurt and it's getting dark. You won't even be able to see what's lurking in the deep shadows.”

He crossed to where she sat, pulled her to her feet, and tenderly kissed her. “Cooper isn't coming, darlin'. No one's coming, and I can't huddle inside this house like a jittery jackrabbit scared of my own shadow. It could be they've left. Wren needs milk. We're almost out of the canned stuff, and I need to get Crow Bait into the barn.”

“I wish you weren't right, and I wish you weren't so god-awful stubborn.”

“You're a fine one to talk, Mrs. Sinclair.” He dropped another kiss on her lips. “I'll be careful. You take care of the children. If anyone gets inside the house—”

“I'll shoot and ask questions later,” she finished.

“That's my girl.” He moved the table back far enough to get to the door.

With fear squeezing her chest, Callie watched him slip into the gathering darkness, then hurried to slide the bolt back in place. She took the fact that no gunfire erupted as a very good sign. Maybe Rand was right. Maybe Nate and his brothers had left.

Or were they only preoccupied?

Her thoughts shifted to Mariah as they had so often during the day. Were they feeding her? Was she warm? Were they taking pleasure in hurting her?

Nate Fleming had no soul—he'd proven it again and again. The bloody piece of brown fabric swam across her vision, twisting her stomach into a knot.

Callie knew what she had to do. It was the only choice they'd given her, even if it cost her life.