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He lightly touched her arm. "Faith?"
"Yes?"
"This is far enough. We'll be safe here. Stop and let me down so I can check Rojo."
She reined in the mule. As soon as Connell swung a leg over and jumped to the ground, Faith dismounted beside him.
"We need to talk," she said quietly.
"That's what I was about to suggest."
"Really?" He'd already started to walk away so she dogged his steps. "You figured it out?"
"Figured what out?"
"About the other horses. I tried to hold on to them but they spooked and ran away. There was no way Ben could catch Indian ponies running scared so I let them go."
"You what?"
"I let them go. What did you expect me to do, go galloping all over the mountains after them and get myself good and lost?"
"No. I expected you to hang on to them."
"I tried to. I don't know what scared them but something sure did. They took off like they'd been shot."
Connell's gaze narrowed.
"Well, they did," she insisted, hands fisted on her hips. "I'm glad I was riding Ben instead of one of them."
"So am I." He glanced past her to scan the hills. "All right. What's done is done. It's obvious I can't leave you alone under the present circ.u.mstances so I'll escort you the rest of the way to Beal's Bar. It shouldn't be far. Once you're there, your father can look out for you."
"What about Irene?" Faith saw his jaw muscles knot.
"That decision's been made for me. I can't track her far on foot and I won't ride Rojo till I'm sure he's okay. I'll pick up a spare horse when I drop you off."
"Drop me off? Just like that? I thought you were going to stay and help me get even with Tucker."
"That's all changed. I have to find Irene."
"I know you do. I just thought..." Faith's voice trailed off. "Oh, never mind." She didn't like sounding petulant so she added, "Do whatever you feel you must. I understand. I just wish you could be there to see Tucker taken down a peg. I thought Irene wanted to be in on it, too."
Suddenly, Faith brightened. "I know! Maybe after you find her you can both both come to Beal's Bar." come to Beal's Bar."
Before she finished speaking Connell was shaking his head slowly, soberly. "No, Faith. As soon as Irene and I are back together I'm taking her to my ranch near Sacramento City. She deserves a home of her own and the life I promised her years ago."
"Of course." Though Faith turned quickly away, she feared Connell had glimpsed the tears she was fighting to subdue. When she felt his gentle touch on her arm once again and heard the pathos in his voice, she was certain.
"I'm so sorry," he said. "All I wanted was to rescue you, to do you good. I never meant to cause pain. Please don't cry."
"I'm not crying," Faith insisted. "I just got something in my eye, that's all."
Connell turned her to face him, his hands softly caressing her upper arms through the sleeves of her calico. "If things had been different, I..."
She reached up and placed her fingertips on his lips to silence him. "Don't. Don't say nice things. I can't bear hearing them." Blinking back emotion, she was about to go on when the nearby snap of a dried branch made her gasp and hold her breath.
Connell instinctively reached for his missing pistol, then drew his knife, instead, and placed himself staunchly between Faith and the noise.
Less than fifteen feet away, an Indian woman stepped into the clearing. She was chuckling and shaking her head. "It's a good thing for you two that I'm not hunting scalps."
Together, Faith and Connell shouted, "Irene!"
He started toward her. "Where have you been?"
"Following you two," Irene said. "I spotted our Cheyenne horses grazing back a ways and brought them along." She eyed Connell's forehead. "What happened to you?"
It surprised Faith when his reply was gruff, his att.i.tude off-putting. "Never mind. Where have you been?"
"Out here, same as you. Only it looks like I've been a lot more careful." She pointed back the way she'd come. "I also came across your Hawken rifle. I left it with the horses, over there a ways, when I followed the sound of your voices."
"And the packs? The supplies?"
"All there," Irene said.
"Then go get them. I need medicine to treat Rojo's cut before we go any farther."
The last thing Faith wanted was to interfere, so she volunteered to fetch the horses, a.s.suming he'd be glad to get rid of her. With a bright "I'll do it," she took a step in the direction Irene had indicated. To her surprise, Connell stopped her.
"No. Stay right where you are. She'll bring the horses." He glared at his Cheyenne-garbed betrothed. "Won't you?"
"Of course," Irene answered flatly.
Faith's gaze bounced back and forth between her two companions as she tried to decipher the tacit undercurrent. Something more was going on than that which was evident and whatever it was had made Connell irate and wary. Irene's mood was more difficult to label. Her closed yet cautious expression reminded Faith of the Cheyenne.
That was it! Even in settler's clothing, Irene Wellman had carried herself with the proud aura of a Cheyenne. And now that she was once again dressed as one, she wore her off-putting att.i.tude like a badge of honor.
"Stay here with Rojo," Connell told Faith. "Having Ben nearby will help settle him so he doesn't move around too much and open up that cut again. I'll go with Irene and bring back the horses." He started to leave, then paused. "And don't get careless. Keep your pistol handy."
"You are coming back this time? For sure?"
"For sure," Connell said.
She watched him stride purposefully after the already disappearing Irene and heard him shout, "Slow down. I don't want you out of my sight. Understand?"
Irene's answer was faint but Faith did manage to hear Connell say angrily, "What in blazes is going on?"
That, Faith agreed, was a very good question.
Chapter Twenty-One.
Faith had hoped that her companions would have settled their personal differences before they returned with the horses. Instead, they had apparently argued to the point where they were no longer on speaking terms.
Tired of their childishness, Faith stroked Ben's velvety nose and talked aside to him. "Can you believe it? Look at them. Grown folks acting like spoiled brats. And they're fixing to get married. Imagine that."
The old mule lowered his head and nudged her gently. Faith smiled. "Sorry, old boy. I'm fresh out of apples. You'll have to wait till we get to Papa's and see what treats he's got for you."
She looked to Connell and raised her voice. "How far are we from Beal's Bar, anyway?"
"My guess is about half a day," he replied.
"Is that all? Well, what are we waiting for?"
"I don't want to push Rojo. We can make camp here, rest up, and still have plenty of time to get there ahead of Charity and Tucker."
"You're sure?"
"Positive. Even with our side trips-" he glanced daggers at Irene "-we're ahead of schedule."
"I could ride on ahead," Faith suggested.
Connell was adamant. "Not alone."
"Why not? It's sure not very enjoyable keeping company with you two. Besides, if I hadn't followed Ben's instincts and left the riverbank, I'd be by myself right now anyway."
"But you're not, are you? I'd think even you would have figured out that the Good Lord intends for me to keep looking after you."
"Oh really?" Faith fisted her hands on her hips. "And I get no credit for rescuing you? Seems to me you're the one with the short memory, mister. Besides, I thought you were anxious to get rid of me."
"I never said that."
"You most certainly did. You told me you were going to drop me at my father's, then turn right around and take Irene home to your ranch."
Irene had been listening quietly. Now, she spoke. "No."
Connell whirled. "What do you mean, no?"
"I'm not going anywhere with you, or anyone else, until I've seen Tucker get what's coming to him."
Faith recalled what Irene had said about taking justice into her own hands. The memory made her s.h.i.+ver. Yes, she wanted to see justice done, but she didn't want to be a party to another murder. Standing over her own grave and knowing it contained the body of the man who had planned her demise had made her painfully aware of the heinous consequences of such an act.
Being a Christian meant she believed she'd go to be with the Lord when she died, would greet her mother and other loved ones again in heaven, but it didn't mean she was eager to depart immediately! Or that she was willing to send another human being on his way to eternity.
There had been a time when, consumed with irrational anger, she'd wished for the chance to end Ramsey Tucker's life with her own hands. That time had pa.s.sed. There was no goal more important than rescuing Charity and making her see the folly of her ways. Once that was accomplished, the problem of Tucker should solve itself, unless Irene interfered and killed him before Charity realized what kind of man he really was.
Now that Irene was again garbed as a Cheyenne, Faith found the woman's countenance threatening. In order to muster the courage to speak her mind, she had to keep reminding herself that as a Christian she was clad in the whole armor of the Lord.
"Irene wants to kill Tucker," Faith announced. "We mustn't allow that. He needs to be unmasked and properly punished by the law so my sister can see him for what he is, a thief, liar and murderer. Behaving like him will only undermine our position of truth."
Connell nodded. "I agree. However, if the wagon boss manages to talk his way out of this mess, he'll be free to repeat his crimes against other innocent women. We can't allow that either."
"Of course not." Pacing, Faith pressed her fingertips to her throbbing temples and took a deep, settling breath before she continued. "I just want you to promise-both of you-that you'll work with me, not against me. I know my father will help us, too."
"a.s.suming we locate him," Connell said. "If not, once Charity and Tucker are away from the protection of the men on the train, we may have to kidnap her for her own good."
"I don't object to doing whatever is necessary to rescue my sister," Faith said, "but it's my fervent hope that we can best Ramsey Tucker at the same time."
"In other words," Connell drawled, smiling, "you want the impossible."
She returned his smile. "Why not? This whole trip west has been one improbable event after another."
"One disaster after another, you mean."
Faith shook her head. "No. The tornado that killed my mother was a true disaster, but even that's been used for good. Think about it. If Charity and I hadn't been forced to travel west when we did, you and I might not have met at Fort Laramie and you'd have had no reason to join Tucker's party and travel with us. If you hadn't, you might never have met Ab and Stuart and finally located Irene. See? It all works together, just like the Good Book says."
"Ha!" Irene huffed in disgust. "That's easy for you to say. You weren't married to a heinous man like Tucker and sold into slavery. If G.o.d is so good, why did I have to suffer all that?"
"I don't know," Faith said with evident empathy. "But I have thought about your situation and come to one important conclusion. You need a man like Connell, a man who understands Indian culture and is comfortable with you, just as you are. Just as you want to be."
Her gaze traveled over the older woman's outfit, pausing at the toes of her moccasins before returning to her dark, sad eyes. "He'll be a good husband for you. I know he will." If emotion hadn't choked off her words she'd have added, Please, be a good wife to him. Please, be a good wife to him.
She turned away to hide her gathering tears as she thought, The kind of good wife I would be, if he were free to love me the way I love him. The kind of good wife I would be, if he were free to love me the way I love him.
Rising at dawn, Faith was dressed, mounted and ready to travel as soon as the others were. Though they were about to enter a populated area, Irene had chosen to continue dressing like a Cheyenne, Faith noted. All the more reason for the woman to fit comfortably into the life that awaited her. Faith's mind was convinced Connell and Irene belonged together. It was her stubborn heart that kept arguing the point.
Looking for distraction, she urged Ben ahead of Irene's horse and trotted along beside Connell. Seeing such a big man mounted on the scruffy Indian pony instead of his magnificent canelo made her smile.
Grinning, she said, "h.e.l.lo down there, mister. How much farther?"
He gave her a taciturn look. "Maybe an hour. Maybe less."
"How can you be so sure? We don't have a map."
"I know where the Feather River joins the American. Your father's camp is supposed to be just south of there. As soon as we hit the river there'll be plenty of men to ask, which reminds me," Connell said. "I don't think you should identify yourself unless you have to."
"That's exactly what I was thinking," she said, smiling. "If we can get to Papa without the whole camp finding out who I am, maybe we can keep my survival a secret and catch Tucker unaware." It pleased her to see appreciation in Connell's expression.
"Smart girl."
Girl? I'm a woman, she wanted to screech. she wanted to screech. Grown and madly in love with you, you big idiot. Grown and madly in love with you, you big idiot.