Twilight in Texas Page 12

  Wolf pulled the reins and slowed his mount. He’d ridden hard to get home. Now that the time was near, he wished for a few minutes more to think. He was a fool for not going back for her after the war. Maybe she would’ve tossed him out, but she deserved the opportunity to do so. He owed her that much, when he’d kissed her and promised to find her. After all these years, his reasons had melted into excuses.

  How could he explain what those first few months after the war had been like? As a spy, he was treated as an outlaw. He lived on the run, sending his sister to Texas for safekeeping. Finally, he split his men up, scattering them in every direction with new identities. He traveled to Texas to find his sister. This state was a different world, full of possibilities and chances. His life during the war and before seemed another lifetime and Molly had been only a fantasy.

  Wolf swore beneath his breath. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to trade the dream of Molly for the slim chance she might be glad to see him. By never going back, he kept her suspended in time. He took one perfect moment in his life and encased it in glass. As long as he did nothing, the moment stayed clear and flawless in his thoughts.

  If he only could convince her how important that one moment had been to him. Maybe she would understand. She might accept that he had fallen in love with her at first sight and never stopped loving her. Somehow, doing nothing had been a way of never losing her love.

  But he could no longer do nothing. He had seen her again. Molly was back in his life and more beautiful than he remembered. Only now, she was flesh and blood and warm in his arms. And by chance, she was his wife, if only for a short time.

  The smell of burned wood drifted around him, far too strong to be an oven fire. Wolf swept the street with a tired gaze that missed little. The town appeared calm. He saw no flames, only a few tiny whiffs of smoke from chimneys. But the odor was there, strong, baked into the area like a spice.

  He rode past the Ranger office and headed straight for Molly’s place. He noticed the air dulling as though a gray cloud lay to ground. Halfway down the block, something was missing in the haze of a dying fire. He Scanned the street and saw the huge gap, a cavity smoldering between two buildings.

  Wolf urged his horse forward. Before anyone could flag him down to warn him of the sight, he was in front of the hull of the pharmacy. For a moment, he stared in disbelief. It couldn’t be her place. He’d only been gone a few days. But the shingle with her first name and his last lay in the ashes.

  A few studs from the walls remained standing, like blackened skeletons rising above the coals. The buildings on either side were scorched and burned in spots.

  Wolf slid from his horse and moved up to what was left of the steps to the boardwalk in front of Molly’s store. He felt the heat now, embers smoldered beneath the rubble where the second floor had crushed the first. He fought the urge to plow into the hot wood and scatter it until he had answers. Molly! Callie Ann!

  “A total loss,” a voice said from behind Wolf, startling him.

  Wolf whirled. “My wife! The child!”

  Miller backed up a few steps as if he feared Wolf might strike. “They’re safe, Captain, now don’t you worry. They got out the back right before the second floor crashed in.” Miller flicked sawdust from his apron. “I can build this place back. I’ll start as soon as everything cools off. I can use a heavier wood that’ll make—”

  Wolf grabbed the undertaker before he could jump away. “Did you or your friends have anything to do with this?”

  Miller shook so badly Wolf lessened his grip. “No, sir. I swear. We wanted her gone before she married, thinking she was trouble, but none of us would do something like this. We’re businessmen. We couldn’t burn a person out. Whoever did this wanted her dead, not just out of business.”

  He looked so pitiful Wolf believed him.

  “I’m gonna build it back. I swear.”

  Wolf shoved past Miller and grabbed the reins of his horse. He cared nothing for the store. “Where’s Molly?”

  Miller rubbed his throat and hiccuped his words. “She’s over at Granny Gravy’s place, I think. She didn’t have nowhere to go. I suggested one of the hotels, but that little weasel of a man, Charlie Filmore, insisted you’d want her at Granny’s. The young ranger who’s always with you agreed.”

  Wolf was too far up the street to hear more. If Charlie and Josh put Molly at Granny’s, there could be only one reason. Molly still wasn’t safe.

  He rode at full speed to the boardinghouse, a rambling three-story in what once had been the best part of town. As always, Noah, a former slave of Granny’s, sat on the porch waiting for arrivals. When Noah was freed, he’d been too old to start out on his own. Granny offered him a room and meals in exchange for him keeping the barn. He made extra money by watching after the lodgers’ horses.

  When he saw Wolf riding in, he stood to meet the ranger. Wolf was one of the few who liked to take care of his own animal, but tonight both men knew that wouldn’t be the case.

  “Your lady’s upstairs, Captain.” Noah took the reins. “I’ll see to the horse.”

  “Thanks,” Wolf answered as he hurried up the steps three at a time.

  In the parlor, two rangers sat where they could see the stairway. Wolf nodded at them, wondering if they were guests or guards.

  They both stood. “We’re glad you’re back, Captain,” one said as Wolf hurried up the stairs.

  He met Granny on the third-floor landing. “How is she?” He tried to pass the wide-girthed woman.

  Granny would have none of his passing. “Slow down,” she ordered. “I’ll not have you storming in there, when it’s taken us most of the day to make her comfortable.”

  Wolf faced the woman. If she’d been a man, he might have run the blockade, but Granny wasn’t a person to be ignored.

  A hundred questions shot through his mind like bullets from a Gatling gun. All he could think of was seeing Molly and making sure she was all right, but he simply said, “What happened?”

  “I don’t know about the fire. It must’ve started sometime before dawn two days ago.” Granny shook her head. “Heard rumors, but you’ve time for that later. The important thing now is your family. The child is fine. Molly carried her out wrapped in a blanket. The wee one is asleep on the couch in my room.”

  “And my wife?” Wolf knew he’d heard the good news first. He braced himself for the rest.

  “She’s got some burns on her arms. The doctor from the School for the Blind came over to help. He said he knew Molly. He had me keep cool rags on her arms most of the day. He just finished wrapping them for the night. Her shoulder is black and blue, and her left wrist is badly sprained. She must’ve rammed the door as hard as she could trying to get out. Thank the Lord she made it.”

  Granny took a step backward up the stairs, and Wolf followed. “The doctor’s with her now. He had to give her something to help her rest, so don’t worry if she seems groggy.” She moved up one more step.

  “If you go in, you go in quiet. That poor child doesn’t need any more shock today. Your voice will wake the dead, Wolf Hayward, so none of that ordering around.”

  Wolf thought of arguing that he never raised his voice, but now wasn’t the time. He simply nodded. She let him pass.

  As he entered, the doctor moved from the foot of the bed. Wolf glanced around. This room was different from the others in the boardinghouse. It was large and spacious with a separate dressing area to the side. He guessed it had been built to serve as the master bedroom, but Granny could no longer climb two flights of stairs several times a day. She’d moved her quarters to the main floor and left the room intact.

  One lamp burned low on a table near the windows. Molly lay in the center of the bed with only light covers, her hair spread across both pillows. She wore a high-necked nightgown several sizes too large. The bruise on her temple and the bandage on her hand were all that indicated she’d been injured. Other than that, she looked more like a fine painting than a real woman.

/>   “I’m Doctor Washburn. Frank Washburn.” The doctor offered his hand. “I’ve heard a great deal about you, Captain. May I say it’s an honor to meet you.”

  Wolf shook the man’s hand and returned his gaze to Molly’s face.

  “She’s fine,” Washburn added in a quiet voice developed for sickrooms. “I’ve given her something to help her sleep.”

  Feeling powerless, Wolf watched her. He’d gladly fight to the death for her, but how could he help her now? She looked so frail.

  “The burns are minor, and the bruising along her shoulder will heal. She’s been through a great deal. She coughed smoke for hours. From the looks of it, everything she owned burned up in that fire except that tin box over there.”

  Wolf glanced at his box on the table. The only thing she’d saved belonged to him.

  “How…?” Wolf didn’t know where to start. His main fear was eased simply by watching her sleep.

  “How’d the fire start?” Washburn rubbed his neck. For a young man, he seemed to be aging fast in this town. “I don’t know. Talk is that it was set. Partly because the back exit was blocked from the outside with boxes. If it hadn’t been for Charlie Filmore hearing your wife scream…”

  “If she’s sleeping and all right”—Wolf’s voice didn’t mold to a whisper so easily—“I’ll go see what I can find out.”

  The doctor touched Wolf’s arm. “You do what you think you have to do, but she needs you here as soon as you can get back.” He hesitated. “Granny told me you two just married, and you only knew her a few days before that.”

  He stalled as though he must talk to a stranger about a very private matter and wasn’t sure how to advance. “It’s more than the burns and the shock that worries me. She feels like she’s lost everything, not just the building, but everything in her life. I’ve seen a sadness like this before in folks. Soldiers coming home wounded to find nothing waiting for them. Farmers starved or burned out with nowhere to start over. When we asked her if there were relatives she needed to telegraph, she shook her head.”

  “What are you trying to tell me?” Wolf didn’t see Molly as a quitter. Something like a fire wouldn’t stop her. Besides, she wasn’t alone. Didn’t she realize she had him?

  The doctor looked frustrated. “I don’t know. The mind is a fragile thing. Folks reach a point sometimes—even strong folks full of spirit—when they don’t want to fight anymore. They just want to rest. Their minds would rather drift in dreams than face loss and failure. I got the feeling that maybe the pharmacy was her one chance to make it, to prove herself, and now it’s gone.”

  “Are you saying she’s crazy?” Wolf couldn’t help but wonder if the doctor hadn’t missed his calling as a preacher.

  “No, of course not,” the doctor answered quickly. “I’m just saying she’s had a hard time, what with moving and losing her friend and the fire. She needs something…somebody to hang on to. She keeps calling for Benjamin in her sleep. I know you’re not him. He’s probably another death in her life. But if you could just be here, it might help. She’s feeling mighty lost and alone about now.”

  Wolf nodded, finally understanding. “What do I do?”

  “When she wakes in a few hours, try to let her know you’re here for her. If you can’t keep her calm, give her this packet of powder in water. It’ll help her sleep, but be careful. The less we have to give her, the better.”

  Washburn moved to the door. “Too bad I can’t bring back the ghost of her father, or Ephraim, or even Benjamin, whoever he is. Tonight, she needs someone she feels safe with.” His raised eyebrow left no doubt that a husband of a few days wouldn’t fill the bill.

  Wolf followed, biting his tongue to keep from yelling at the doctor that he could do whatever needed doing. Washburn knew nothing of how he felt.

  As they shook hands, Wolf asked, “Do you know the beggar called Charlie Filmore?”

  “I know him,” the doctor answered. “He’s been sitting on the stairs most of the day, worrying about your wife. Seems he saved her life.”

  “I’d like to see him,” Wolf said in a tone that was half asking, half ordering.

  “I’ll find him for you. If he’s not in Granny’s kitchen eating leftovers, he’ll be at the nearest saloon.”

  “Thanks.” Wolf closed the door and moved to Molly’s bedside. He carefully lifted her unbandaged hand off the sheet and lightly kissed her fingers. More bandages showed beneath her cuff.

  “Molly,” he whispered.

  She moved her head slightly.

  “Molly, my love.”

  “Benjamin,” she mumbled without opening her eyes. “Benjamin.”

  Wolf kissed her hand once more and replaced it at her side. As he stood, he knew what he had to do. One more time he’d play a role, this time not for the South, but for his Molly’s peace of mind.

  FOURTEEN

  IN THE DRESSING AREA AT THE SIDE OF MOLLY’S ROOM. Wolf faced the mirror with the determination of a hired killer. After he’d shortened his mane to collar length, he pinched his beard with two fingers while he continued to cut. Hair slowly filled the bowl below.

  As he shaved the last of the stubble away, he hardly recognized the face staring back at him. There were a few more lines, but he felt as if he were stepping back in time. He was becoming someone else. Someone from his past. Someone fabricated.

  He dropped the towel from around his waist and dressed in the clothes Charlie had brought him. The little man had been right, he did know what was in every warehouse in town. It had only taken him an hour to find a uniform that would fit. A uniform of Union blue.

  To Wolf’s amazement, Charlie asked no questions. He brought the clothes, including boots and socks, as though the request had been easy to fill.

  Wolf disliked putting on the outfit. The uniform was a reminder of all he wanted to forget. Except for Molly, he thought. He never forgot how she’d looked that first day he saw her. How she held him, a total stranger, in her arms as though she also knew they were made to be together.

  As he buttoned the jacket, he glanced at the mirror once more. An officer looked back at him. The officer who’d slipped so easily behind the lines, watching troop movements, mapping railroad routes, and counting heavy artillery. The officer who’d met Molly.

  Wolf cleared his throat as he set his mind on losing his accent. If she were to believe he was Benjamin, he had to remember everything. He had to move like an officer, talk like a Yankee, think of nothing but this moment in time. Tonight might be his best performance to date, for this time, he’d be trying to convince someone who knew him as Wolf. Somehow, in this shadowy room, Molly had to see Benjamin and not him. She couldn’t see the actor, the spy. She had to believe she saw only Benjamin.

  Molly twisted in sleep, tossing the covers. The medicine was wearing off. It had been almost two hours since the doctor left. Wolf had talked to the rangers downstairs while he’d waited for Charlie. They couldn’t give him any answers about the fire, but they all agreed that Molly might still be in danger.

  Once Charlie showed up, Wolf listened to every detail about what had happened from the beggar’s point of view. Wolf couldn’t find the words to thank him, but both knew that the captain would consider himself forever in Charlie’s debt.

  The knowledge made Charlie walk a little taller. He was now Wolf’s friend. When Wolf asked about a uniform, he didn’t ask why; after all, it was a favor between friends. While Charlie went to find it, Wolf hauled water to the third floor for a bath and retrieved his saddlebags. Then he told everyone he would stay with Molly and they could relax for the night.

  The others nodded, seeming relieved to turn over the watch. Granny disappeared into her room. The rangers left, and Wolf closed the door to the world as he stepped into Molly’s room.

  As she muttered something in her sleep, Wolf buttoned the final button of the uniform and walked toward the bed. He stood at attention and waited. Mentally, he practiced saying her name without drawing out the syllables, as hi
s Southern tones always did.

  Finally, Molly’s eyelids fluttered open. She smiled a sleepy, drug-filled grin. “Benjamin,” she said, “I knew you’d come.”

  Wolf knelt on one knee. “I’m here, darling. I’m here. I’ll sit beside you all night. You’re not alone any longer.”

  “No,” she whispered, more asleep than awake. “Lie beside me. I have so much to tell you. I lost my journals in the fire. I lost all my memories of feeling. You have to lie beside me.”

  Wolf wasn’t prepared for her request. He’d thought she’d rest easy just seeing him. “But you’ve been hurt. You’ll sleep better without me so close.”

  “Hold me, Benjamin. Hold me all night.”

  Wolf froze. This had been a crazy idea. If he hadn’t been the one who thought of it, he’d have beaten up the man who did for even suggesting such a cruel plan. He’d thought to be a vision beside her for the night, not to climb into her bed.

  Her hand lifted, and she brushed the smooth surface of his clean-shaven jaw. Slowly, her fingers found his hair and moved gently through the damp strands.

  “Do you want more medicine?” he asked, stumbling over his Northern accent.

  “No,” she answered, slurring her words a little, almost like a drunk. “I need you to hold me.”

  Wolf stood and pulled off his boots and jacket. It was too late to turn back now; he’d already infiltrated too deeply into her dreams. If he refused her request, she might grow upset. The last thing the doctor said to him was to keep her calm.

  For a long while, he stood in his white cotton undershirt and trousers, as if climbing into bed with his wife was too difficult a job to tackle without some thought.

  Her fingers reached out again, taking his hand, pulling him to her.

  Wolf slowly stretched out beside her, careful not to touch her. Awkwardly, he lifted her head and slid his arm beneath. She curled against him without opening her eyes. He moved her bandaged hand atop her gown so that it wouldn’t get crushed between them.