Guardian Bride (29 page)
"What about it? It'll still be here when you get back."
"What if she doesn't want to return?"
"Then Bug and Ma have a brand new house all to
themselves."
"What about my wheat fields, my irrigation systems,
my..." he let the words fade before anymore formed on his
tongue. He already knew the answer.
"They don't matter as much as Summer does, do they?"
Kid asked.
Snake shook his head. The rotten eggs in his stomach had
faded away as gently as the new emotions had flooded in to
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take their place. The feelings that said he loved Summer, and
would rather live with nothing, than without her. He glanced
at his brother, ready to admit how he'd felt.
"I guess I just didn't like the idea of sharing her."
Kid nodded. "I worried about that when Jessie was
pregnant. Wondered if she'd still have time for me once the
baby was born. Want to know what she said to me when she
figured out my worries?"
"Yeah," Snake admitted, nodding for Kid to go on.
"She said her love wasn't divided between the baby and
me. It was multiplied. And you know what?"
"What?"
"She was right. The more people we have to love, the
bigger our hearts become."
Snake had to blink a couple times to clear the film from his
eyes. Kid, nor any of his brothers were sappy philosophers,
yet, listening to what Kid said was like reading Revelations,
and understanding it.
A chuckle coughed up his throat. He let it out and leaned
down to grab the long handle of his wooden tool chest.
"You know," he said as he hoisted one leg over the dormer
roof. "I never imagined there'd be a day when I was jealous
of Buffalo Killer."
Kid laughed. "Don't feel so bad. I remember a day when I
was jealous of Joe."
"Joe?" Snake was astounded. Kid's old ranch foreman had
to be seventy if he was a day.
With a grimace Kid admitted, "Actually, it was more than a
day."
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Snake hooted then. The image of Kid jealous, was one
thing—for everyone knew how protective he was of Jessie.
Snake had almost met his demise once for losing her—but
"Joe?" he repeated aloud.
Kid, laughing good naturedly, began to climb down the
ladder. "Yes, Joe. I can laugh about it now, but at one time, I
was mad enough to shoot the old coot."
They were still chuckling when they rounded the house to
where the women had the tables set with enough food to feed
half the state. Snake took a moment to consider his family as
he set aside his tool box and moved to the water basin. Randi
loved to cook, and she put great efforts into every meal she
prepared. Hog, who loved to cook so much he opened a
restaurant, had willingly stepped aside so his wife could
prepare meals at their fine establishment. Skeeter, who'd
never had a care in his life, had tossed aside every carefree
manner in order to provide for his family. Matter of fact, he
was probably the most serious one of the family anymore.
And Kid, well, he knew exactly where Kid stood when it came
to his oldest brother's family.
There wasn't one in the bunch who'd question his leaving if
Summer wanted to go meet her family. Especially not Ma.
Family meant more to her than the sun did to the earth.
He wiped the water from his hands and face, and tossed
the towel over the hook on the side of the stump. Hell, he'd
been worrying all day for nothing.
Turning around, he noted his wife walked toward him. As
their eyes met, he grinned. The relief in her face grew into a
wide smile. They met halfway to the table, and not caring
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who watched, he folded her into an embrace and while the
sun filled the horizon with an evening glow and the wind
fluttered by on its way to Missouri, he kissed the dickens out
of her.
It was the hooting and giggles that finally made them
break apart. For the first time since their marriage, she didn't
seem to mind his public affections. She'd never shied from his
private ones, but before now, he'd always sensed her
nervousness when it came to kissing or touching in front of
family. This time, when he settled his arm around her
shoulders, she leaned against him, and stayed there as they
walked to the table.
The meal proceeded leisurely, with mellow conversations
and playful teasing amongst the brothers. Randi had outdone
herself again with a savory chicken dish smothering fresh
biscuits, and beets boiled with light seasonings that made him
favor the vegetable he'd often avoided in the past.
After everyone finished off the large slices of spice cake,
which August devoured, claiming it was as good as chocolate,
the women started to clear the table. Skeeter rose and with a
nod, he gestured Snake to follow. The rest of the brothers
were already moseying toward the house, as if there was
something that needed all of their attention. Snake glanced to
where Summer stood, hands in the dishwater. He loved the
curves of her slender frame, and smiled at the graceful way
she swayed aside as September lowered another handful of
dirty plates into the basin of water.
A weight landed on his shoulder. "Come on," Skeeter said.
There was a touch of urgency in his tone.
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Snake rose, after tossing a wink toward Summer when she
turned his way, he followed his brother across the yard. The
rest had gathered near the end of the porch, where everyone
had stacked their tools and supplies for the night. Skeeter
was not his normal happy self. He was quiet and thoughtful.
And that alone was enough to make Snake wary. By the time
they arrived on the porch, his nerves were skating beneath
his skin.
"What's up?" he asked before climbing the final step.
Skeeter pointed to Buffalo Killer. "He knows who started
the fire."
"Started the fire?" Snake stopped shy of asking what fire,
realizing Skeeter meant the one that burnt the house. As far
as he knew, Sheriff Turley hadn't identified the source.
"It was a grass fire. Lightning starts them all the time."
"Not this one," Buffalo Killer insisted.
"How do you know?" Snake stepped onto the porch and
leaned back against the newly installed rail.
"I looked."
"That's it? You looked?" Snake questioned.
A rooster pheasant cackled in the distance, the sound was
ominous as the men stood silent. Stone faced, his brothers,
glanced between him and Buffalo Killer. Regret at snapping
his thoughts, made Snake shake his head.
"Sorry. What do you mean, you looked? You found where
the fire started?"
"Yes. And several others. But they died out before
traveling far. This one was herded to your house like a
stampede of buffalo."
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Snake took in the solemn faces of his brothers before
asking, "What are you saying? That someone burnt us out on
purpose?"
Buffalo Killer gave a single head nod.
"Who?"
"Wainwright would be my guess," Bug said, straightening
out the end of a shovel with the toe of his boot. "Seems like
something the coward would do."
Snake's chest grew tight. With everything else going on,
he'd forgotten the man was still out there. Or had been
anyway. The fire had been weeks ago. By now the Mexican
trader was probably on the other side of the Rio Grande,
trading off some poor little girls he'd captured along the way.
"What do you want to do, Snake?" The sound of Kid's voice
snapped his attention.
"Me? What do I want to do?" He scratched at the back of
his head. Kid was the oldest. The rest had always looked up
to him for the answers, for the decisions as to what came
next. They were all looking at him though, and Snake didn't
have an answer for them.
Buffalo Killer crossed his arms. "He left a trail."
"He did?" Skeeter asked, pushing off the rail to stand stiff.
"It probably leads all the way to Mexico," Snake guessed.
"No," Buffalo Killer said.
"Where to then?" Bug voiced what they were all
wondering.
"I didn't follow, but he's not far."
"Not far?" The sensation of being watched made Snake
spin around. The rest of the brothers did the same. Without
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speaking, they stared across the plains searching for whoever
was out there. It was Wainwright. The man had probably
been watching them the entire time. How had he forgotten?
Overnight his world had gone from taking care of little more
than wheat fields and irrigation plans to a wife, two children—
a family—an entire family—including a hat-wearing Maisy and
floppy-eared Jerome.
Unprepared for the responsibility, he now accepted
wholehearted, he let his thoughts smolder for a few
moments, before he turned to Kid. "We need to gather some
information. Know what we're dealing with."
Kid nodded. "I'll ride into town tomorrow and talk to
Turley."
A few years ago, Kid wouldn't have sought out the Sheriff's
help if his life depended on it. Actually, his life had depended
on it. His brother had changed. It had been subtle and
happened over time, therefore Snake hadn't noticed how
drastic the change had been. Or maybe he had noticed and
had been frightened by what he saw. At the time, he'd
thought marriage was the last thing he wanted. But now,
after all was said and done, he wouldn't change his life for all
the wheat in Kansas.
He turned to face the group of men behind and beside him.
His brothers, Kid, Skeeter, Hog, and Bug, and their friend,
Buffalo Killer. They were a formidable bunch and a sense of
thankfulness—that they were on his side—swelled in his
chest.
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"That's a good start, Kid. I appreciate it. Bug, you go with
Buffalo Killer. Do a bit of scouting. Check out the fire lines he
found and check out the trail."
Bug slapped Buffalo Killer on the back.
The Indian stared at the hand, frowning.
"We're on it," Bug said once a grin formed on Buffalo
Killer's face.
"Yes." Buffalo Killer's agreement was simple, yet Snake
knew it was deep and sincere.
Snake then turned to Hog and Skeeter. "We have to be
extra diligent. Make sure the women and children are never
alone." The past few weeks flashed before his eyes. Times
when he'd been so busy on the house he hadn't known where
Summer, or September and August had been. That would
never happen again.
"The house is completed enough. Let's move everyone out
of the tents tonight," Hog said, his barrel chest puffed.
"No," Skeeter, looking willowy next to Hog, said, "That
might upset the women. There's no sense in upsetting them if
we don't have to. They're ready to move in tomorrow.
Nothing is going to happen tonight. We'll take turns guarding
the place."
"We'll act tonight just as we have every night," Snake
insisted. "You'll all head to Kid's, and the rest of us will stay in
the tents. If someone is watching, we don't want them to
know we're on to them."
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The men remained on the porch long after she'd finished
the dishes. The way they hovered made Summer wonder.
Engrossed in what the men might be discussing, her gaze
roamed from one to the other, trying to decipher their facial
expressions. They gave nothing away. Her heart however,
skipped around in her chest as her eyes naturally roamed
back to Snake's broad shoulders. Just the sight of him, no
matter how innocent, sent butterflies fluttering in her insides.
Buffalo Killer, her newly found brother, came into view
beside her husband. Her insides flittered again. This time with
apprehension. They'd sat for hours under the tree, talking
about a time she didn't remember, but he talked as if she
should. Faint memories had speckled her mind. Surely she'd
been too young to remember, yet she had a sense that she
did. Not really people or places, but feelings. Happiness and
love.
July Austin had been with the riders who'd raided the
camp. She told Buffalo Killer about July's death. It had been
then that Buffalo Killer asked her a poignant question.
Grasping her cheeks, looking deep into her eyes, he'd
asked why she let a dead man steal her joy. At first she
hadn't understood, but then, after he walked away, shaking
his head, she comprehended. Why did she still allow July to
influence her life?
All of a sudden something hit the back of her knee.
Stumbling to keep from falling, she grabbed for the makeshift