Fiona's Journey Read online

Page 11


  “Not now,” Clint went on. “She’s with her mother and I don’t think the family wants any company tonight. You guys can probably see her in a day or two.”

  Rose let out a moan they could hear.

  Joey’s eyes got big. “What’s wrong with Aunt Rose?”

  Fiona patted his head. “She’ll be fine, Joey. The baby has decided to make an appearance tonight.”

  “Is it hurting her?”

  “A little.”

  “Why?”

  Benny’s mother came running over and asked before Fiona had to answer Joey, “Is Rose doing all right?”

  “As far as I know she is, Sarah. Your mother is with her, but hasn’t asked me to come help her.”

  “Mama is good at this sort of thing. I’m sorry to say, I’m not.” She looked at Clint. “Don’t worry. Rose will be fine.”

  Clint only nodded and stared at his coffee.

  Sarah turned back to Fiona. “Why don’t you let Joey sleep over with Benny tonight? I’m going to put them in the wagon to sleep so I’m sure they’ll be safe.”

  Fiona glanced around. “With what’s going on here, I guess that’s the best. Thank you, Sarah.”

  “Now, don’t you worry about him. Daddy will be on guard. Everyone is going to take special care of their kids tonight.”

  “Again, thank you.”

  “No thanks needed.” She turned to the boys, neither of whom had spoken since Rose had called out again. “Come on, fellows.”

  They didn’t hesitate. In fact, they headed toward the Watson wagon before Sarah started back.

  She shook her head. “Hannah’s visiting some friends, but I’ll find her and send her over to help mama, Fiona. Looks like Clint is going to need you to keep him from falling apart.”

  “Well...I...”

  “Don’t worry. My sister’s not like me. She’s helped deliver babies before.”

  “Seems all I do is thank you tonight.”

  Sarah waved Fiona’s words away, patted Clint on the shoulder, and headed toward her wagon.

  When she was out of sight, Fiona looked at Clint. He was still hanging on to his cup as if he didn’t know what to do with it. “Want some more coffee?” she asked.

  “Might as well.” He held the cup toward her.

  Hannah came running up. “Sarah said Mama needed me. Keep Clint busy and out of our way, Fiona. New fathers get nervous when their first kid decides to make an appearance.”

  “I’m concerned about Rose.”

  “Of course you are, Clint.” Hannah turned to Fiona. “The old Weatherbee woman about eight wagons up does some teas and things with herbs. Daddy went to get something to ease Rose some. Now, you take care of Clint and I’ll help Mama.”

  Rose let out another moan and Clint looked up at Fiona with haunted eyes. “The baby isn’t going to make it, is it?”

  Fiona frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not up on all this, but I know a baby has to stay in the mama more than four or five months to survive.”

  Fiona didn’t know what to say. She wondered if she should tell Clint Rose was further along than any four or five months. Was it her place to do so? She looked at his concerned face and whispered, “I think Rose might be further along than either of you thought.”

  “But...”

  “Sometimes a woman miscounts.” She smiled t him. “Try not to worry, Clint.”

  “I don’t know if I can, Fiona.”

  She reached for his cup and poured him another cup of coffee. She then made one for herself and sat down beside him. “Tell me, Clint. What are you hoping for? A boy or girl?” Maybe if she kept him talking it would ease his worry about his wife.

  “Rose wants a boy.”

  “I guess you want a boy, too.”

  “I haven’t thought about it.”

  Fiona frowned. She couldn’t believe a man as sensitive as Clint wouldn’t care about whether his forthcoming child was a boy or a girl, but she didn’t press the subject. “I guess we’ll all know what it is when it gets here.”

  Rose cried out again.

  “Does it have to hurt so much?” Clint looked back at the wagon.

  “They say a woman forgets the pain as soon as she looks at her child.”

  He turned to her. “But if there’s no chance the child will live, why does a woman have to suffer so?”

  “Like I said, Clint, maybe you figured the time wrong.”

  He eyed her. “Did Rose tell you she’s been with child longer than I think?”

  Fiona looked away. “What makes you ask?”

  “Because you and she sure do a lot of talking at night.”

  She stared at him. “Have you been listening to us?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t understand what you’re saying, but I hear your voices. You know the tent is pitched beside the wagon.”

  “I see.”

  “If Rose was further along than she said, why didn’t she tell me? We promised there would be no secrets.”

  “Maybe she thought you wouldn’t bring her on this wagon train.”

  “Damn right, I wouldn’t have.” He stood quickly and hurried to the back of the wagon.

  Fiona watched him, but didn’t say anything.

  “What’s going on, Mattie?” Clint demanded.

  Mattie stuck her head out at him and snapped, “Your wife is having a baby. What do you think is going on?”

  “Is she all right?”

  Mattie’s voice softened. “She’s fine, Clint. Now why don’t you get Fiona to go for a walk with you or something? There’s not a thing you can do to help Rose. You’ve done done your part.”

  Clint whirled around. His face was full of confusion when his eyes rested on Fiona. He walked over to her and took her arm. “Come on and take a walk to the creek with me.”

  Fiona looked at Mattie. The older woman said, “Go on with him. At least it’ll keep him out of my hair.”

  “What if you need the water? It’s boiling now.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Hannah will get it when we need it.”

  Since there was nothing else she thought of to say, she brushed her skirt and let Clint lead her around the wagon toward the creek.

  There was a scattering of rocks of different shapes and sizes on the bank.

  “Let’s sit.” Clint’s voice sounded strained.

  Fiona wondered why he wanted to stop here instead of walking, but she didn’t ask. Instead she sat on one of the larger rocks, deciding to let him talk if that was what he wanted to do.

  Clint dropped to the rock beside her. It was lower than hers which put his head even with her lap. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

  After nobody spoke for several minutes, Fiona decided anything was better than this silence. She put her hand on his shoulder. “I know everyone keeps telling you this, Clint, but Rose is going to be fine. Believe me.”

  He reached up and covered her hand with his. “I pray she will. She’s been through so much.”

  Fiona wanted to put her arms around him, but she didn’t dare. His hands touching hers were already making her feel things she shouldn’t be feeling. What kind of woman was she? How could she sit here and experience this thrill when this man’s wife was suffering through child birth only a short distance away. She bit her lip and by sheer will she pulled her hand from under Clint’s.

  With as much assurance as she could muster she said, “It takes time to have a child. We all pray she’ll have a quick delivery and a healthy baby.”

  “I should be concerned about the baby, but I’m not, Fiona.” He turned his head up and looked at her with misty eyes. “I bet you think I’m cold and heartless for saying that, but I can’t help it. This baby hasn’t been real to me from the start like it has to Rose.”

  “I guess when a woman carries a life around inside her for all those months she can’t help but know how real it is.”

  “Did you feel that way about Joey?”

  Fiona wonder
ed if she should share her secret about Joey with him. Rose knew, but she promised not to tell him. His question proved Rose had kept her word. Was now the time to confess?

  Finally she muttered, “It’s different for every woman.”

  “I guess women do take things differently.” He shook his head. “Look at Nina Fritz. I thought she was going to die when Susie disappeared.”

  “It would be awful to lose a child.” She glanced at Clint. “Did Susie say why she ran away?”

  “She didn’t run away, Fiona. Somebody snatched her. We found her a couple of miles back. Somebody had dropped her there.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. We saw the horse’s tracks.”

  “Oh, my Lord. Do you think it could have been Luther Markin?”

  “I have no idea, but it could have been.”

  Fiona shivered. “I’m glad she got away. He’s an evil man.”

  “Would he have... I mean do you think he’d do things to Susie?” Clint looked up at her.

  She shivered again. “Surely not. Susie’s a little girl.”

  Before Clint could say anything else about Susie, Rose’s muffled scream reached their ears.

  “Damn! Why does it take so long?”

  “I think we’ve been over this, Clint. It’ll come when it’s ready. Not until.”

  “I wish it’d hurry. Rose has been through enough.” Clint jumped up and turned to look back in the direction of the wagons. “I can’t sit here. I’ve got to find out what’s going on.”

  “Hold up, young man,” Rufus said as he walked up. “Fiona is right. It’ll get here in good time.”

  “Did you go through this?”

  “Of course I did. Every man does.” Rufus shook his head. “I went to get some things from Granny Weatherbee to help Rose. They’re making some kind of tea, but it looks to me like you need something a little stronger. Why don’t you come with me?”

  Clint frowned. “Where to?”

  “My wagon. I’ll give you a sip of the spirits Mattie keeps for medical purposes.”

  Clint grinned. “I sure could use it.”

  As Fiona watched the two men walk away, she sighed and mumbled, “Thank goodness Rufus came up. I was on the verge of pouring my heart out to Clint.”

  She stood, straightened her skirt, and headed back to her own wagon.

  Chapter 12

  Mac saw the campfire when he was still a good mile away. He shook his head. These men must be awfully brave or the most stupid criminals he’d ever encountered. Though they were camped near a patch of scrubby cottonwoods, they hadn’t bothered to try to hide. He wondered if the idiots knew there were Indians about. If they did, they either didn’t know the danger or they didn’t care. He figured it was the first.

  As he approached he dismounted and led his stallion. The horse was well trained and made hardly a sound as they got closer to the campsite.

  Mac could see two men sitting near a fire and as he got closer he frowned. No wonder the damn fools don’t realize the danger. They’re easterners, he thought as he shook his head again. What ever possessed them to follow the wagon train with only a couple of horses? But more important, why did they kidnap a little girl?

  He dropped his hand to the colt hanging on his right side and said in a loud voice, “Got a cup of coffee you can spare?”

  The fat man let out a little squeal. It reminded Mac of a pig.

  The thinner man looked frightened, but he said, “If you’re friendly, we’ll be glad to share our coffee with you.”

  Mac ground hitched his horse and ambled over to the campfire. “I have to admit, I’m surprised to find two men who seem so out of place out here without a wagon or any of the comforts of home.”

  “I never dreamed the west was as wild as it is. I can’t wait to get back to Baltimore.” Not only did the fat man squeal, he whined.

  The thinner man held a cup toward Mac. “My name’s Wade Fillmore and I’m out here because I think my daughter is on the wagon train up ahead.”

  “Mac Barnett.” He took the coffee and said, “Much obliged.”

  “Have you seen the people on the wagon train?” Leo Carver asked without giving Mac his name.

  “Yeah. I’ve seen them.” He didn’t elaborate. He was still wondering why these two men wanted a little girl. Maybe it was to cook for them. They sure needed help. The coffee was awful. His Aunt Ida in San Francisco drank her fancy tea stronger than this stuff.

  “Did you get acquainted with anyone on the wagon train?” Wade asked.

  “Why do you ask?”

  Wade took a deep breath. “I thought you might know my daughter.”

  “Oh?”

  Leo put in, “We came all the way from Baltimore to get his beautiful daughter and take her back home.”

  Mac looked the two men over. They seemed harmless enough, but you could never tell about people. You had to be on guard. One or both of them had kidnapped a little girl and that wasn’t in anyway harmless, according to his way of thinking. He drew a long breath, set the coffee down, took a paper from his vest pocket and rolled a smoke. “If you’re here to get your daughter, why are you three miles behind the wagon train? Why aren’t you riding up to it and asking your daughter to come home?”

  Leo puffed out his chest. “Mr. Markin said...”

  “Shut-up, Leo.” Wade looked at Mac. “I think you’re right. We need to get on our horses and ride up to the wagon train before the night is over. They should be camped by now.”

  “They’re camped all right.” Mac puffed on his cigarette. “Had a little excitement tonight.”

  “Oh? What happened?”

  He looked at both men. The one called Wade looked as if he didn’t know what was being talked about. The fat man looked guilty as hell. “Somebody rode off with one of the little girls in camp.”

  Wade frowned. “Who would do such a thing?”

  “Yeah, who would?” Leo asked as he began to sweat.

  Mac made a quick decision. He stood and whipped out his gun. “You would, you dirty bastard.” He pointed it at Leo Carver.

  “That’s crazy.” Wade frowned. “Leo wouldn’t do anything that stupid. He’s my business partner.”

  “Well, your business partner tried to kidnap a little girl. Thank God, we got her back.” He eyed Leo. “Did you rape the little girl?”

  “Rape!” Wade became angry. “There’s no way he’d do something like that.”

  Mac turned to the angry man. “Maybe you don’t know your business partner as well as you think you do.”

  “I didn’t rape anybody.” Leo was shaking.

  “Then we’ll mosey on back to the wagon train and see what the little girl has to say.” He waved his gun at the two men. “Saddle your horses and let’s ride.”

  “What about Mr. Markin?” Leo cried.

  “I don’t give a damn about Mr. Markin. I only want the devil who took the little girl.”

  Leo’s beady eyes turned to the colt in Mac’s hand. He gulped and said, “Then you better wait for Mr. Markin. He’s the one who took her.”

  “Leo, how do you know that?” Wade stared at him.

  “I was with him. I know what he did.”

  “Where is this Mr. Markin?” Mac asked.

  “I don’t know.” Wade looked around. “He must have wandered off.”

  Mac heard a twig snap behind him and whirled around. He was too late. A shot rang out and he crumpled to the ground.

  * * * *

  Leo’s scream was high pitched. He then began to babble, “Oh, my god, you shot the man. I’ve heard of men in this unholy land shooting each other, but I never dreamed it would happen. Oh, my heavens, we need to find Rose and get back to Baltimore.”

  “Shut the hell up, you fat fool!” Luther Markin bellowed. “This man was about to take us all in because of the little girl you snatched. I had to shoot him.”

  Leo’s mouth snapped shut, but his eyes continued to dart around the man with the gun.

>   Wade Fillmore moved toward the man on the ground. He knelt beside him. “He’s still breathing.”

  Luther spit tobacco and chuckled. “He won’t be for long. Look at the blood pouring out of him.”

  “We need to stop the bleeding.” Wade looked at the man’s side. “Maybe we can save his life.”

  “I got no interest in saving his life. He’s gonna make trouble for us if he lives.” He pointed his gun at Leo. “Your partner there decided he wanted to play footsy with a kid and if this man lives, he’ll see that we all hang for his foolishness.”

  “When the man accused you of taking a little girl, Leo, you said Mr. Markin took her. But now I wonder. Did you do it?” Wade looked at him.

  “I didn’t hurt the kid. I dropped her as soon as I heard the gunfire and came racing back here.” Leo looked as if he was going to cry.

  “Why did you tell this man I took the girl, tenderfoot?” Luther waved his gun at Leo.

  “I didn’t.”

  “I heard you as I was slipping up behind him.” He continued to wave his gun back and forth. “For two cents I’d put a bullet in you, too.”

  “No!” Leo screeched.

  Luther let out a deep laugh. “Scared, huh?”

  “Of course. I don’t want to die.”

  “Please, Mr. Markin,” Wade said, “this man needs help. Forget Leo and give me a hand.”

  “Hell, let him die. If he gets back to the train, we’re done for.” Luther pulled out a plug of tobacco and bit off a chew as he eyed the eastern men. “I’ve got some thinking to do. Right now I’ve got to decide if it’d be better to keep hanging with the two of you or to shoot you now and get it over with.”

  “Please don’t shoot me,” Leo begged.

  “I can’t ignore this bleeding man, Mr. Markin. I don’t care much about him either, but somebody does and we don’t want them to come looking for him.”

  Luther glared at him as Leo stood by wringing his hands.

  Finally the farmer said, “You do as you please. I’m going for a ride.” He moved to his horse.

  “You’re not going to leave us here alone with this dying man, are you?” Leo whined.

  Luther ignored him and threw the saddle on his steed’s back. “I may be back, but if I choose not to return, the wagon train behind us will come along in two or three days. They’ll pick you up. Good luck, gentlemen.”