Читать книгу The Mckettrick Legend - Linda Lael Miller - Страница 13

Present Day

WHILE TRAVIS AND LIAM WERE in the barn, Sierra inspected the wood-burning stove. She found a skillet, set it on top, took bacon and eggs from the refrigerator, which was ominously dark and silent, and laid strips of the bacon in the pan. When the meat began to sizzle, she felt a little thrill of accomplishment.

She was actually cooking on a stove that dated from the nineteenth century. Briefly, she felt connected with all the McKettrick women who had gone before her.

When the electricity came on, with a startling revving sound, she was almost sorry. Keeping an eye on breakfast, she switched on the small countertop TV to catch the morning news.

The entire northern part of Arizona had been in undated in the blizzard, and thou sands were without power. She watched as images of people skiing to work flashed across the screen.

The telephone rang, and she held the portable receiver between her shoulder and ear to answer. “Hello?”

“It’s Eve,” a gracious voice replied. “Is that you, Sierra?”

Sierra went utterly still. Travis and Liam tramped in from out side, laughing about something. They both fell silent at the sight of her, and neither one moved after Travis pushed the door shut.

“Hello?” Eve prompted. “Sierra, are you there?”

“I’m…I’m here,” Sierra said.

Travis took off his coat and hat, crossed the room and elbowed her away from the stove. “Go,” he told her, cocking a thumb to ward the center of the house. “Liam and I will see to the grub.”

She nodded, grateful, and hurried out of the warm kitchen. The dining room was frigid.

“Is this a bad time to talk?” Eve asked. She sounded uncertain, even a little shy.

“No—” Sierra answered hastily, finally gaining the study. She closed the door and sat in the big leather chair she’d occupied the night before, waiting for the fire to go out. Now she could see her breath, and she wished the blaze was still burning. “No, it’s fine.”

Eve let out a long breath. “I see on the Weather Channel that you’ve been hit with quite a storm up there,” she said.

Sierra nodded, remembered that her mother—this woman she didn’t know—couldn’t see her. “Yes,” she replied. “We have power again, thanks to Travis. He got the generator running right away, so the furnace would work and—”

She swallowed the rush of too-cheerful words. She’d been blathering.

“Poor Travis,” Eve said.

“Poor Travis?” Sierra echoed. “Why?”

“Didn’t he tell you? Didn’t Meg?”

“No,” Sierra said. “Nobody told me anything.”

There was a long pause, then Eve sighed. “I’m probably speaking out of turn,” she said, “but we’ve all been a little worried about Travis. He’s like a member of the family, you know. His younger brother, Brody, died in an explosion a few months ago. It really threw Travis. He walked away from the company and just about everyone he knew. Meg had to talk fast to get him to come and stay on the ranch.”

Sierra was very glad she’d brought the phone out of the kitchen. “I didn’t know,” she said.

“I’ve already said more than I should have,” Eve told her rue fully. “And anyway, I called to see how you and Liam are doing. I know you’re not used to cold weather, and when I saw the storm report, I had to call.”

“We’re okay,” Sierra said. Had she known the woman better, she might have confided her worries about Liam—how he claimed he’d seen a ghost in his room. She still planned to call his new doctor, but driving to Flag staff for an appointment would be out of the question, considering the state of the roads.

“I hear some hesitation in your voice,” Eve said. She was treading lightly, Sierra could tell, and she would be a hard person to fool. Eve ran McKettrickCo, and hundreds of people answered to her.

Sierra gave a nervous laugh, more hysteria than amusement. “Liam claims the house is haunted,” she admitted.

“Oh, that,” Eve answered, and she actually sounded relieved.

“‘Oh, that’?” Sierra challenged, sitting up straighter.

“They’re harmless,” Eve said. “The ghosts, I mean. If that’s what they are.”

“You know about the ghosts?”

Eve laughed. “Of course I do. I grew up in that house. But I’m not sure ghosts is the right word. To me, it always felt more like sharing the place than its being haunted. I got the sense that they—the other people—were as alive as I was. That they’d have been just as surprised, had we ever come face-to-face.”

Sierra’s mind spun. She squeezed the bridge of her nose between a thumb and fore finger. The piano notes she’d heard the night before tinkled sadly in her memory. “You’re not saying you actually believe—”

“I’m saying I’ve had experiences,” Eve told her. “I’ve never seen anyone. Just had a strong sense of someone else being present. And, of course, there was the famous disappearing teapot.”

Sierra sank against the back of the chair, both relieved and confounded. Had she told Meg about the teapot? She couldn’t recall. Perhaps Travis had mentioned it—called Eve to report that her daughter was a little loony?

“Sierra?” Eve asked.

“I’m still here.”

“I would get the teapot out,” Eve re counted, “and leave the room to do something else. When I came back, it was in the china cabinet again. The same thing used to happen to my mother, and my grandmother, too. They thought it was Lorelei.”

“How could that be?”

“Who knows?” Eve asked, patently unconcerned. “Life is mysterious.”

It certainly is, Sierra thought. Little girls get separated from their mothers, and no one even comes looking for them.

“I’d like to come and see you,” Eve went on, “as soon as the weather clears. Would that be all right, Sierra? If I spent a few days at the ranch? So we could talk in person?”

Sierra’s heart rose into her throat and swelled there. “It’s your house,” she said, but she wanted to throw down the phone, snatch Liam, jump into the car and speed away before she had to face this woman.

“I won’t come if you’re not ready,” Eve said gently.

I may never be ready, Sierra thought. “I guess I am,” she murmured.

“Good,” Eve replied. “Then I’ll be there as soon as the jet can land. Barring another snow storm, that should be tomorrow or the next day.”

The jet? “Should we pick you up some where?”

“I’ll have a car meet me,” Eve said. “Do you need anything, Sierra?”

I could have used a mother when I was growing up. And when I had Liam and Dad acted as though nothing had changed—well, you would have come in handy then, too, Mom. “I’m fine,” she answered.

“I’ll call again before I leave here,” Eve promised. Then, after another tentative pause and a brief goodbye, she rang off.

Sierra sat a long time in that chair, still holding the phone, and might not have moved at all if Liam hadn’t come to tell her break fast was on the table.

1919

It was a cold, seemingly endless ride to the Jessup place, and hard going all the way. More than once Doss glanced anxiously at his nephew, bundled to his eyeballs and jostling patiently along side Doss’s mount on the mule, and wished he’d listened to Hannah and left the boy at home.

More than once, he at tempted to broach the subject that was uppermost in his mind—he’d been up half the night wrestling with it—but he couldn’t seem to get a proper handle on the matter at all.

I mean to marry your ma.

That was the straight for ward truth, a simple thing to say.

But Tobias was bound to ask why. Maybe he’d even raise an objection. He’d loved his pa, and he might just put his old uncle Doss right square in his place.

“You ever think about livin’ in town?” Tobias asked, catching him by surprise.

Doss took a moment to change directions in his mind. “Some times,” he answered, when he was sure it was what he really meant. “Especially in the wintertime.”

“It’s no warmer there than it is here,” Tobias reasoned. Whatever he was getting at, it wasn’t coming through in his tone or his manner.

“No,” Doss agreed. “But there are other folks around. A man could get his mail at the post office every day, instead of waiting a week for it to come by wagon, and take a meal in a restaurant now and again. And I’ll admit that library is an enticement, small as it is.” He thought fondly of the books lining the study walls back at the ranch house. He’d read all of them, at one time or another, and most several times. He’d borrowed from his uncle Kade’s collection, and his ma sent him a regular supply from Texas. Just the same, he couldn’t get enough of the damn things.

“Ma’s been talking about heading back to Montana,” Tobias blurted, but he didn’t look at Doss when he spoke. Just kept his eyes on the close-clipped mane of that old mule. “If she tries to make me go, I’ll run away.”

Doss swallowed. He knew Hannah thought about moving in with the home folks, of course, but hearing it said out loud made him feel as if he’d not only been thrown from his horse, but stomped on, too. “Where would you go?” he asked, when he thought he could get the words out easy. He wasn’t entirely successful. “If you ran off, I mean?”

Tobias turned in the saddle to look him full in the face. “I’d hide up in the hills some where,” he said, with the conviction of innocence. “Maybe that canyon where Kade and Mandy faced down those outlaws.”

Doss suppressed a smile. He’d grown up on that story him self, and to this day, he wondered how much of it was fact and how much was legend. Mandy was a sharpshooter, and she’d given Annie Oakley a run for her money, in her time. Kade had been the town marshal, with an office in Indian Rock back then, so maybe it had happened just the way his pa and uncles related it.

“Mighty cold up there,” he told the boy mildly. “Just a cave for shelter, and where would you get food?”

Tobias’s shoulders slumped a little, under all that wool Hannah had swaddled him in. If the kid took a spill from the mule, he’d probably bounce. “I could hunt,” he said. “Pa taught me how to shoot.”

“McKettricks,” Doss replied, “don’t run away.”

Tobias scowled at him. “They don’t live in Missoula, either.”

Doss chuckled, in spite of the heavy feeling that had settled over his heart after he and Hannah had made love and stayed there ever since. Gabe was dead, but it still felt as if he’d betrayed him. “They live in all sorts of places,” Doss said. “You know that.”

“I won’t go, anyhow,” Tobias said.

Doss cleared his throat. “Maybe you won’t have to.”

That got the boy’s full attention. His eyes were full of questions.

“I wonder what you’d say if I married your ma.”

Tobias looked as though he’d swallowed a lantern with the wick burning. “I’d like that,” he said. “I’d like that a lot!”

Too bad Hannah wasn’t as keen on the prospect as her son. “I thought you might not care for the idea,” Doss confessed. “My being your pa’s brother and all.”

“Pa would be glad,” Tobias said. “I know he would.”

Secretly, Doss knew it, too. Gabe had been a practical man, and he’d have wanted all of them to get on with their lives.

Doss’s eyes smarted something fierce, all of a sudden, and he had to pull his hat brim down. Look away for a few moments.

Take care of Hannah and my boy, Gabe had said. Promise me, Doss.

“Did Ma say she’d hitch up with you?” Tobias asked, frowning so that his face crinkled comically. “Last night I said she ought to, and she said it wouldn’t be right.”

Doss stood in the stirrups to stretch his legs. “Things can change,” he said cautiously. “Even in a night.”

“Do you love my ma?”

It was a hard question to answer, at least aloud. He’d loved Hannah from the day Gabe had brought her home as his bride. Loved her fiercely, hopelessly and honorably, from a proper distance. Gabe had guessed it right away, though. Waited until the two of them were alone in the barn, slapped Doss on the shoulder and said, Don’t you be ashamed, little brother. It’s easy to love my Hannah.

“Of course I do,” Doss said. “She’s family.”

Tobias made a face. “I don’t mean like that.”

Doss’s belly tightened. The boy was only eight, and he couldn’t possibly know what had gone on last night in the spare room.

Could he?

“How do you mean, then?”

“Pa used to kiss Ma all the time. He used to swat her on the bustle, too, when he thought nobody was looking. It always made her laugh, and stand real close to him, with her arms around his neck.”

Doss might have gripped the saddle horn with both hands, because of the pain, if he’d been riding alone. It wasn’t the reminder of how much Hannah and Gabe had loved each other that seared him, though. It was the loss of his brother, the way of things then, and it all being over for good.

“I’ll treat your mother right, Tobias,” he said, after more hat-brim pulling and more looking away.

“You sound pretty sure she’ll say yes,” the boy commented.

“She already has,” Doss replied.

Present Day

More snow began to fall at midmorning and, worried that the power would go off again, and stay off this time, Sierra gathered her and Liam’s dirty laundry and threw a load into the washing machine. She’d telephoned Liam’s doctor in Flag staff, from the study, while he and Travis were filling the dish washer, but she hadn’t mentioned the hallucinations. She’d heard the piano music herself, after all, and then Eve had made such experiences seem almost normal.

Sierra didn’t know precisely what was happening, and she was still unsettled by Liam’s claims of seeing a boy in old-time clothes, but she wasn’t ready to bring up the subject with an outsider, whether that outsider had a medical degree or not.

Dr. O’Meara had reviewed Liam’s records, since they’d been expressed to her from the clinic in Florida, and she wanted to make sure he had an inhaler on hand. She’d promised to call in a prescription to the pharmacy in Indian Rock, and they’d made an appointment for the following Monday afternoon.

Now Liam was in the study, watching TV, and Travis was out side split ting wood for the stove and the fire places. If the power went off again, she’d need firewood for cooking. The generator kept the furnace running, along with a few of the lights, but it burned a lot of gas and there was always the possibility that it would break down or freeze up.

Travis came in with an armload just as she was starting to prepare lunch.

Watching him, Sierra thought about what Eve had said on the phone earlier. Travis’s younger brother had died horribly, and very recently. He’d left his job, Travis had, and come to the ranch to live in a trailer and look after horses.

He didn’t look like a man carrying a burden, but appearances were deceiving. Nobody knew that better than Sierra did.

“What kind of work did you do, before you came here?” she asked, and then wished she hadn’t brought the subject up at all. Travis’s face closed instantly, and his eyes went blank.

“Nothing special,” he said.

She nodded. “I was a cocktail waitress,” she told him, because she felt she ought to offer him something after asking what was evidently an intrusive question.

Standing there, beside the antique cookstove and the wood box, in his leather coat and cowboy hat, Travis looked as though he’d stepped through a time warp, out of an earlier century.

“I know,” he said. “Meg told me.”

“Of course she did.” Sierra poured canned soup into a sauce pan, stirred it industriously and blushed.

Travis didn’t say anything more for a long time. Then, “I was a lawyer for McKettrickCo,” he told her.

Sierra stole a sidelong glance at him. He looked tense, standing there holding his hat in one hand. “Impressive,” she said.

“Not so much,” he countered. “It’s a tradition in my family, being a lawyer, I mean. At least, with everyone but my brother, Brody. He became a meth addict instead, and blew himself to kingdom-come brewing up a batch. Go figure.”

Sierra turned to face Travis. Noticed that his jaw was hard and his eyes even harder. He was angry, in pain, or both.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“Yeah,” Travis replied tersely. “Me, too.”

He started for the door.

“Stay for lunch?” Sierra asked.

“Another time,” he answered, and then he was gone.

1919

It was near sunset when Doss and Tobias rode in from the Jessup place, and by then Hannah was fit to be tied. She’d paced for most of the afternoon, after it started to snow again, fretting over all the things that could go wrong along the way.

The horse or the mule could have gone lame or fallen through the ice crossing the creek.

There could have been an avalanche. Just last year, a whole mountainside of snow had come crashing down on to the roof of a cabin and crushed it to the ground, with a family inside.

Wolves prowled the countryside, too, bold with the desperation of their hunger. They killed cattle and some times people.

Doss hadn’t even taken his rifle.

When Hannah heard the horses, she ran to the window, wiped the fog from the glass with her apron hem. She watched as they dismounted and led their mounts into the barn.

She’d baked pies that day to keep from going crazy, and the kitchen was redolent with the aroma. She smoothed her skirts, patted her hair and turned away so she wouldn’t be caught looking if Doss or Tobias happened to glance toward the house.

Almost an hour passed before they came inside—they’d done the barn chores—and Hannah had the table set, the lamps lighted and the coffee made. She wanted to fuss over Tobias, check his ears and fingers for frost bite and his fore head for fever, but she wouldn’t let herself do it.

Doss wasn’t deceived by her smiling restraint, she could see that, but Tobias looked down right relieved, as though he’d expected her to pounce the minute he came through the door.

“How did you find Widow Jessup?” she asked.

“She was right where we left her last time,” Doss said with a slight grin.

Hannah gave him a look.

“She was fresh out of firewood,” Tobias expounded importantly, unwrapping himself, layer by layer, until he stood in just his trousers and shirt, with melted snow pooling around his feet. “It’s a good thing we went down there. She’d have froze for sure.”

Doss looked tired, but his eyes twinkled. “For sure,” he confirmed. “She got Tobias here by the ears and kissed him all over his face, she was so grateful that he’d saved her.”

Tobias let out a yelp of mortification and took a swing at Doss, who side stepped him easily.

“Stop your rough housing and wash up for supper,” Hannah said, but it did her heart good to see it. Gabe used to come in from the barn, toss Tobias over one shoulder and carry him around the kitchen like a sack of grain. The boy had howled with laughter and pummeled Gabe’s chest with his small fists in mock resistance. She’d missed the ordinary things like that more than anything except being held in Gabe’s arms.

She served chicken and dumplings, in her best Blue Willow dishes, with apple pie for dessert.

Tobias ate with a fresh-air, long-ride appetite and nearly fell asleep in his chair once his stomach was filled.

Doss got up, hoisted him into his arms and carried him, head bobbing, toward the stairs.

Hannah’s throat went raw, watching them go.

She poured a second cup of coffee for Doss, had it waiting when he came back a few minutes later.

“Did you put Tobias in his night shirt and cover him with the spare quilt?” she asked, when Doss appeared at the bottom of the steps. “He mustn’t take a chill—”

“I took off his shoes and threw him in like he was,” Doss interrupted. That twinkle was still in his eyes, but there was a certain wariness there, too. “I made sure he was warm, so stop fretting.”

Hannah had put the dishes in a basin of hot water to soak, and she lingered at the table, sipping tea brewed in Lorelei’s pot.

Doss sat down in his father’s chair, cupped his hands around his own mug of steaming coffee. “I spoke to Tobias about our getting married,” he said bluntly. “And he’s in favor of it.”

Heat pounded in Hannah’s cheeks, spawned by indignation and something else that she didn’t dare think about. “Doss McKettrick,” she whispered in reproach, “you shouldn’t have done that. I’m his mother and it was my place to—”

“It’s done, Hannah,” Doss said. “Let it go at that.”

Hannah huffed out a breath. “Don’t you tell me what’s done and ought to be let go,” she protested. “I won’t take orders from you now or after we’re married.”

He grinned. “Maybe you won’t,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t give them.”

She laughed, surprising herself so much that she slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. That gesture, in turn, brought back recollections of the night before, when Doss had made love to her, and she’d wanted to cry out with the pleasure of it.

She blushed so hard her face burned, and this time it was Doss who laughed.

“I figure we’re in for another blizzard,” he said. “Might be spring before we can get to town and stand up in front of a preacher. I hope you’re not looking like a watermelon smuggler before then.”

Hannah opened her mouth, closed it again.

Doss’s eyes danced as he took another sip of his coffee.

“That was an insufferably forward thing to say!” Hannah accused.

“You’re a fine one to talk about being forward,” Doss observed, and repeated back something she’d said at that very height of her passion. “That’s enough, Mr. McKettrick.”

Doss set his cup down, pushed back his chair and stood. “I’m going out to the barn to look in on the stock again. Maybe you ought to come along. Make the job go faster, if you lent a hand.”

Hannah squirmed on the bench.

Doss crossed the room, took his coat and hat down from the pegs by the door. “Way out there, a person could holler if they wanted to. Be nobody to hear.”

Hannah did some more squirming.

“Fresh hay to lie in, too,” Doss went on. “Nice and soft, and if a man were to spread a couple of horse blankets over it—”

Heat surged through Hannah, brought her to an aching simmer. She sputtered something and waved him away.

Doss chuckled, opened the door and went out, whistling merrily under his breath.

Hannah waited. If Doss McKettrick thought he was going to have his way with her—in the barn, of all places—well, he was just…

She got up, went to the stove and banked the fire with a poker.

He was just right, that was what he was.

She chose her biggest shawl, wrapped herself in it, and hurried after him.

Present Day

As soon as Sierra put supper on the table that night, the power went off again. While she scram bled for candles, Liam rushed to the nearest window.

“Travis’s trailer’s dark,” he said. “He’ll get hypothermia out there.”

Sierra sighed. “I’ll bet he comes back to see to the furnace, just like he did this morning. We’ll ask him to have supper with us.”

“I see him!” Liam cried glee fully. “He’s coming out of the barn, with a lantern!” He raced for the door, and before Sierra could stop him, he was outside, with no coat on, galloping through the deepening snow and shouting Travis’s name.

Sierra pulled on her own coat, grabbed Liam’s and hurried after him.

Travis was already herding him toward the house.

“Mom made meat loaf, and she says you can have some,” Liam was saying, as he tramped breathlessly along.

Sierra wrapped his coat around him, and would have scolded him, if her gaze hadn’t collided unexpectedly with Travis’s.

Travis shook his head.

She swallowed all that she’d been about to say and hustled her son into the house.

“I’ll start the generator,” Travis said.

Sierra nodded hastily and shut the door.

“Liam McKettrick,” she burst out, “what were you thinking, going out in that cold without a coat?”

In the candlelight, she saw Liam’s lower lip wobble. “Travis said it isn’t the cowboy way. He was about to put his coat on me when you came.”

“What isn’t the ‘cowboy way’?” she asked, chafing his icy hands between hers and praying he wouldn’t have an asthma attack or come down with pneumonia.

“Not wearing a coat,” Liam replied, downcast. “A cowboy is always prepared for any kind of weather, and he never rushes off half-cocked, without his gear.”

Sierra relaxed a little, stifled a smile. “Travis is right,” she said.

Liam brightened. “Do cowboys eat meat loaf?”

“I’m pretty sure they do,” Sierra answered.

The furnace came on, and she silently blessed Travis Reid for being there.

He let himself into the kitchen a few minutes later. By then Sierra had set another place at the table and lit several more candles. They all sat down at the same time, and there was something so natural about their gathering that way that Sierra’s throat caught.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she said, feeling awkward.

“I’m starved,” Travis replied.

“Cowboys eat meat loaf, right?” Liam inquired.

Travis grinned. “This one does,” he said.

“This one does, too,” Liam announced.

Sierra laughed, but tears came to her eyes at the same time. She was glad of the relative darkness, hoping no one would notice.

“Once,” Liam said, scooping a helping of meat loaf onto his plate, his gaze adoring as he focused on Travis, “I saw this show on the Science Channel. They found a cave man, in a block of ice. He was, like fourteen thousand years old! I betcha they could take some of his DNA and clone him if they wanted to.” He stopped for a quick breath. “And he was all blue, too. That’s what you’ll look like, if you sleep in that trailer tonight.”

“You’re not a kid,” Travis teased. “You’re a forty-year-old wearing a pygmy suit.”

“I’m really smart,” Liam went on. “So you ought to listen to me.”

Travis looked at Sierra, and their eyes caught, with an almost audible click and held.

“The generator’s low on gas,” Travis said. “So we have two choices. We can get in my truck and hope there are some empty motel rooms at the Lamp light Inn, or we can build up the fire in that cookstove and camp out in the kitchen.”

Liam had no trouble at all making the choice. “Camp out!” he whooped, waving his fork in the air. “Camp out!”

“You can’t be serious,” Sierra said to Travis.

“Oh, I’m serious, all right,” he answered.

“Lamp light Inn,” Sierra voted.

“Roads are bad,” Travis replied. “Real bad.”

“Once on TV, I saw a thing about these people who froze to death right in their car,” Liam put in.

“Be quiet,” Sierra told him.

“Happens all the time,” Travis said.

Which was how the three of them ended up bundled in sleeping bags, with couch and chair cushions for a makeshift mattress, lying side by side within the warm radius of the wood-burning stove.