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Bride of the Wolf
Bride of the Wolf
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Bride of the Wolf

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JOEY WATCHED HOLDEN ride off, twisting a frayed piece of rope in his hands.

Holden was upset. Joey had known him for three of his sixteen years, ever since Holden had come to Dog Creek as a hand, and Joey could read his friend’s feelings like a book.

It wasn’t hard to figure out why Holden was riled. Jed hadn’t told him about getting married, and that must have hurt, the same way it hurt Joey. Holden was used to knowing everything that went on at Dog Creek.

And Joey couldn’t remember a single time when Holden had ever said something nice about a female. If he even knew any.

Wiping his hand across his nose, Joey stared at the house. He hadn’t risked staying around while Holden had been tussling with Sean, but something mighty interesting must have happened. If the lady coming to Dog Creek meant Sean was leaving for good, he was glad she’d shown up. Jed might be a little mad at first, but not for long. He loved Holden lots better than that no-good polecat Sean.

But what would Jed say when he found out about the baby? Where had it come from, and why had Holden taken it in?

Joey shook his head. That was a real puzzle. He’d never seen a baby, leastwise not up close. And he badly wanted to meet the lady. He would have to have a look-see for himself. Maurice could wait just a little longer to hear all the details.

Pushing his hat down on his head the way Heath liked to do, Joey crossed the yard. He paused in front of the door, tucked in his shirt and knocked.

No one answered. Joey opened the door, poked his head inside and heard singing. A woman singing a lullaby.

A hard lump settled in Joey’s throat. It was a song he knew from when he was a little kid, before …

You’re not a little kid no more. A song couldn’t hurt him, and neither could a lady, Jed’s wife or not.

He strode down the hall, hesitated just shy of the open bedroom door and knocked softly on the door frame.

The lady sat up, and Joey caught a quick glimpse of the bundle lying beside her, pinched the brim of his hat and stood up as straight as he knew how.

“Howdy, ma’am,” he said in his deepest voice. “Name’s Joey Ackerman. I work with Mr. Renshaw. He asked me to check in on you.”

Clear brown eyes met his. “How do you do, Mr. Ackerman,” she said very seriously. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Joey tucked his hands behind his back. “You’re Jed’s wife.”

Her eyes seemed to get darker somehow, like a storm cloud brewing on the horizon. “Yes. I am Mrs. McCarrick.” She was quiet for a while, and Joey had a chance to study her. She wasn’t exactly pretty, and she was thin, like she hadn’t had quite enough to eat. Joey knew what that felt like. The way she was sitting, like she was going to pop right up any moment, reminded Joey of a filly he’d seen once, looking calm but just about shaking with the need to run as fast as her feet would carry her.

He shifted his gaze to the bunch of blankets. “You, uh, need anything, Mrs. McCarrick?”

“I have all I need for the time being, Mr. Ackerman. Would you like to see the baby?”

Joey didn’t need another invitation. He moved to the side of the bed and peered into the screwed-up little face. Its eyes were closed, and its lashes were very long and very delicate.

“It looks right young,” he murmured. “Did Holden really bring him?”

Mrs. McCarrick stroked the baby’s silky hair. Joey watched the caress with a sort of hunger he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“So it would seem, Mr. Ackerman,” Mrs. McCarrick said.

“Joey, ma’am. No one calls me Mr. Ackerman.”

“Of course. Tell me, Joey. Have you known Mr. Renshaw long?”

Joey swelled up with pride. “Since he came to Dog Creek, ‘bout three years ago.”

“I can see that you think well of him.”

“Sure. I been here since I was eleven, and he’s the best foreman we ever had. No one can work cattle or ride and break horses like he does. It’s like he has some magic power over ‘em.” He shuffled his feet. “You shouldn’t judge him by how he acts sometimes, ma’am. He ain’t as mean as he looks.”

She tilted her head, considering his words as if they were important. “And Jedediah?” she said. “Are he and Holden good friends?”

It was a mighty strange question to ask, he thought, ‘specially since she was Jed’s wife and should know things like that. “Jed never trusted nobody like he trusts Holden.” He rubbed at the fringe of hair above his upper lip. “You didn’t know much about Dog Creek before you came, did you, ma’am?”

“Only from Mr. McCarrick’s description. He and I married in Ohio.”

“Guess this is quite a change for you, ma’am.”

She shifted around, tight as rawhide drying in the sun. “Have you been to Ohio, Joey?”

“Me? No, ma’am. I like it here just fine.” He searched her eyes. “Hope you like it here, too, Mrs. McCarrick.”

“My name is Rachel, Joey.”

Rachel. It was about the prettiest name Joey had ever heard. “You must be tuckered, ma’am. Rachel,” he said. “I’m goin’ to talk to Maurice, but I’ll be around case you need anything. Just whistle.”

She smiled, and Joey thought that smile changed her face completely. “I’ll do that, Joey. Thank you.”

His feet hardly touched the floorboards as he left the house. Now that he’d seen her, he didn’t understand why Holden didn’t like her. She was a right proper lady, and he could see she liked the baby, even if she’d never seen it before today.

Maybe she’d like him, too.

Joey nearly ran to the bunkhouse. Holden was wrong about Rachel. She was going to make Dog Creek a better place.

As soon as Jed was home, everything was going to be just fine.

Chapter Four

“MERCI, MAURICE.”

The big Frenchman beamed, his round face reddened from the sun and his eyes twinkling with effusive good humor. Rachel had liked the cook, who turned out to also be the blacksmith and launderer, from the moment he’d entered the house with offerings from his own stores in the ranch cookhouse. Like Joey, he seemed delighted to meet her and eager to see her well settled.

“It is nothing, madame,” he said. “I am honored to assist the wife of Monsieur McCarrick.”

She returned his smile. “I hope I will be able to lighten your load at Dog Creek,” she said. “I can certainly assume the washing duties.”

“Mais non, madame. It is not necessary.”

“I came here expecting to work hard, and that is what I intend to do. I may, however, require your advice as to what my husband prefers to eat.”

“Ah, the talent of cooking is wasted here, madame,” he said with an exaggerated shrug. “Beef, beans and biscuits. Biscuits, beans and beef.”

She laughed. “Then it shall not be so difficult, n’est-ce pas?”

With a great sigh, Maurice shook his head, bowed and left the house.

Rachel’s heart was almost light as she laid the loaf of bread on the table and took up the knife Maurice had brought. Between him and Joey—and perhaps Jedediah’s nephew, whom she wanted very much to trust—she was beginning to feel she might have friends at Dog Creek.

Joey had been perfectly charming. He was every bit the boy trying to be a man, earnest and serious. But he hadn’t been able to conceal his fascination with the baby. Or his natural friendliness and willingness to help.

In that respect he was very little like the man he so obviously admired.

Rachel’s smile faded as she cut a slice of smoked salt pork. It felt strange to be alone in this house now that the sun had set. The first night noises had brought her to an uneasy alert: coyotes howling, ominous scratchings from behind the walls, the keening of the wind. She was just frightened enough to be angry. Angry that Renshaw hadn’t come back to visit the baby. That his brief show of solicitude before he had left had been worth so little.

But of course he had no concern for her at all.

Checking the lantern to make sure it was still burning well, she listened for the baby in the bedroom. He was still asleep, oblivious to the loneliness that lay so unexpectedly heavy on her own shoulders. She had thought she was accustomed to such loneliness; she’d had so few people to rely upon during her years of struggle. It was ridiculous that she should feel bereft when she was soon to have companionship and a true purpose.

The bitter thought she could never quite conquer rose to mock her hope. What would they think if they knew my shame? If they guessed how thoroughly I have deceived them?

Even Jedediah knew nothing of it. How much more would Holden Renshaw despise her if he was aware of her deepest secret?

Why was his opinion of any concern to her at all?

He will never know. No one here will ever know.

Someone rapped on the door. Her heart fluttered treacherously. Had Holden Renshaw finally returned?

But it was not the foreman. Sean McCarrick tipped his hat and smiled in that same very charming way when they’d first met.

“Mrs. McCarrick,” he said. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Not at all.” She stepped back to let him enter. “Would you be seated?”

He glanced at the table and her plate. “I see that Renshaw actually considered the possibility that you might be hungry.”

“I am sorry I haven’t much to offer you, Mr. McCarrick.”

He took one of the chairs and removed his hat. “I don’t expect anything, ma’am. I just wanted to be sure that you and the baby are safe and well.”

“He is sleeping, thank you.”

“He’s all right, then? I admit I was surprised when I saw Renshaw with him. He’s the last man I’d expect to care about an abandoned child, let alone bring one home with him.”

Though she had entertained the very same thought, Rachel found herself bristling at Sean’s comment. “Yet he did so,” she said tartly.

He regarded her with obvious curiosity. “Has he won your good opinion, Mrs. McCarrick? Offered some defense of his attempt to send you away, perhaps?”

“I did not ask him about it.”

“I completely understand.” He smoothed his fine woolen trousers. “It wouldn’t be wise to confront him, under the circumstances. You’ll have ample opportunity when Jed returns.”

Rachel could not feel at ease, though there was no reason why she should not. They sat quietly for a few moments. Finally Sean cleared his throat.

“I’ve come for another reason, Mrs. McCarrick,” he said. “I’ve left Dog Creek.”

“Left?” she echoed. “But why?”

“I see you are not aware of what transpired after Renshaw gave you the child. It must seem strange to you, ma’am, but it has become impossible to continue here in my uncle’s absence. As I believe I mentioned before, Renshaw abuses the authority my uncle left him, and he treats … well, I have come to find his behavior intolerable.”

That was no surprise, considering the way the two men had glared at one another that morning. Harsh words had hardly been necessary to establish their mutual dislike.

“I’m sorry to hear it, Mr. McCarrick,” she said.

“Sean, please.” He smiled warmly. “Your concern is gratifying.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the door. “I have no desire to create trouble for you, which is why I have come to speak with you while Renshaw is absent. He has resented me ever since he came here three years ago. It has always been his intention to turn my uncle against me and steal Dog Creek.” He sighed. “Jedediah is a good, honest man—too trusting, I’m afraid. As difficult as it is to believe, Renshaw has been very skilled in making himself Jedediah’s confidant. He schemed to convince Jed that I was unworthy to act as foreman.”

Renshaw hardly seemed capable of such subtlety, but Rachel had not seen him with Jedediah. “It’s a terrible thing to be shut out by your own people,” she said, her voice thick with memory.

“It is, ma’am. A hard thing indeed.” He leaned forward, searching her eyes. “You speak as though you know how it feels.”

Had she been just a little less uncertain, she might have confided in him. It would be such a relief. But she knew it would have been the height of folly to admit even part of the truth.

“My parents died when I was very young,” she said.

“My deepest sympathies, Mrs. McCarrick.”

“Rachel,” she said, trying to smile. “It was a very long time ago.”

“I was also an orphan,” he said. “When my father died, Jedediah took me in and raised me as his own son.” He laid his hand over hers. “We have something in common, Rachel. I think we’ll be good friends.”

His words were too bold, and she drew her hand away. “I hope you will feel more welcome here when Jedediah returns.”

He leaned back again. “I hope you’ll speak to my uncle on my behalf. I have no doubt he’ll listen to you.” He hesitated. “I also hope you’ll take my advice, Rachel, and remain alert to any attempts Renshaw may make to undermine your position here. He will no doubt attempt to frighten you away.”

“I am Jedediah’s wife,” Rachel said. “Even if he were to dare attempt it, I assure you that I will not allow him to intimidate me.”

“I believe you. I don’t believe he will resort to physical means, but he is by nature a violent man. Be wary.” He rose abruptly. “I’ve taken too much of your time. If you should need an advocate, I won’t be far away. I’m staying with the Blackwells and hope to have employment with them very soon. Send a hand with a message to Blackwater anytime.”

It seemed a gallant offer, though Rachel could not quite shake the feeling that Sean expected greater intimacy than she was prepared to give. She rose to see him to the door. “Thank you for coming, Sean,” she said. “You have made me feel very welcome.”

“The least I can do for kin.” He tipped his hat. “I hope to see you again soon, Rachel.”

As soon as he had gone, she went back to the bedroom. The baby was just beginning to stir. He opened his blue eyes and smiled.

She knelt beside the bed. “What am I to think, little one?” she asked him, tracing his cheek with a fingertip. “I ought to trust Jedediah’s nephew. He is the closest thing I have to kin here, and he has been kind.”

So few people had ever been truly kind to her. Yet she couldn’t feel entirely easy with Sean or the things he had said, and upon reflection she began to understand why. He had admitted to a certain weakness of character in his unwillingness to stand up to Jedediah’s foreman in his uncle’s absence. He had suggested that Renshaw had attempted to bribe her in Javelina, yet he had not confronted the foreman with his suspicions. He had clearly suggested that she might find it difficult at Dog Creek while Jedediah was gone—that Holden Renshaw could be a threat to her, even capable of violence—yet he was leaving nevertheless. His offer to be her advocate seemed little more than empty words.

And there were other questions. Was she to believe that Jedediah possessed such poor judgment that he would listen to unjustified criticism of his own nephew by his foreman? Was Holden Renshaw so consumed by jealousy and greed that he would scheme to undermine Sean at every turn? Had he given the baby into her care while simultaneously intending to drive her away? How could he hope to make her leave when he had accepted her as Jedediah’s wife? She could make no sense of it.

He ain’t as mean as he looks, Joey had said. The boy seemed to look up to Holden Renshaw as an older brother, perhaps even a father. His account, brief as it was, could not be more thoroughly opposed to Sean’s.

But that only meant she must be even more wary. She knew that if she reported Sean’s visit to Holden Renshaw, or confronted him openly with what Sean had told her, she would get no closer to the truth. Guilty or not, Renshaw would simply deny Sean’s accusations and doubtless fling a few of his own.