Taming the Wind

*** TWENTY-FIVE

Carissa stared at the closed door of the shack and wondered when the men would return. Earlier that day Lockhart had assigned the men various duties and each had ridden out without another word. Finally, Lockhart ordered Jesse to get their two horses and they departed, as well. She had no idea what was happening, with exception to Sage making the delivery of her hair to Cedar Springs--and he'd left two days prior.

"If you know what's good for you," Lockhart had told her, "you'll not try to escape. First of all, you are in an area far from civilization, as you already know. You wouldn't make it even a mile before succumbing to complete disorientation. Not only that, but Long Knife and Roy are riding watch. They would catch you quicker than lightning could strike. And then I'm afraid I would have to punish you."

Carissa had no doubt he meant every word and that the punishment would be cruel. Not that she could even truly

272

attempt escape. Lockhart had taken her shoes and stockings and had handcuffed her to the iron-framed bed. She had a chamber pot and a pitcher of water, but little else. At least the bed offered a place to rest.

The hours ticked by in excruciating slowness. Carissa watched the shadows play on the wall as the sun crossed the room. The heat was soon unbearable, and she found herself longing once again for a cool bath. She leaned back on the bed and tried her best to imagine swimming in the waters off the coast of Corpus Christi. When she'd been much younger--

before the war--there had even been Sunday school outings and picnics near the water. What carefree days those had been.

The light was beginning to fade when she heard the sound of an approaching rider. She wasn't sure if it would be one of the men who held her captive or someone else. She feared being found by Indians, but she was uneasy about her captors, too. Jesse had eyed her in a rather leering manner the day before, but surprisingly, Lockhart had put a stop to it, warning each of the men that they were not to touch her.

The door opened and Long Knife strode in with a small sack. Carissa shot up from the bed and stood to face him as he drew near. "What in the world is going on with you people?" she asked.

He looked at her oddly for a moment, then smiled. "You have a lot of fire. It's hidden down deep, but it burns hot."

"Tell me what's happening. Where has everyone gone?"

"We're seein' to business. We're watching for anyone who might have been able to track us here. Lockhart has other business that he doesn't see fit to tell us about."

"Is Jesse really your brother?" she asked without thinking. Long Knife laughed and opened the gunnysack he'd

273

brought. "Yes, but just barely. We had the same mother, but different fathers.

Why do you ask?"

She shrugged. "I just wondered. You two don't look that much alike."

He pulled some jerked meat from the bag and handed it to her. "My father was Mexican and Comanche. Our mother was Kiowa and Cheyenne.

Jesse's father was white."

"Well, that would account for why you are so much darker." She sat down on the bed and began to eat the jerky. Long Knife considered her for a moment, then pulled another piece of meat from the bag. He placed it on the small table beside the pitcher of water.

"It might be late before Lockhart gets back."

And then he was gone just as quickly as he'd come. Carissa couldn't help but wonder just how far from the shack he would go. Was there really no hope of escape? She tugged at the irons but knew there was no way to disengage from the rails of the bed frame. A part of her wanted to break down and cry, but another part was just mad enough that she wouldn't.

Instead, she'd keep her thoughts on Gloria and Tyler. Those two gave her a will to go on--to fight against despair. She had no idea if she would ever see them again, but that was the hope she clung to.



***

Without tracks to follow or word from the sheriff, William had forced them to wait a good four days after returning to the ranch before he'd agree to head out. Tyler had threatened to leave on his own more than once, but each time William had convinced him to sit tight. On the fifth day, Tyler decided he'd had enough and that no matter what William said, he was

274

going after Carissa. While William understood his friend's frustration, there was no real way to know where they should look for her. Leaving without some idea of where to go would simply waste more time. Plus, the sheriff would have no way to get in touch with them if they were wandering aimlessly around the countryside, looking for clues.

"I'm leavin' now," Tyler told William and the others at breakfast. "I'm going to search for Carissa, and this time you aren't going to talk me out of it."

William eyed him momentarily, then nodded. "I wasn't going to try. I think it is time we take matters into our own hands. I figure we'll head southwest like they traveled, and we'll just ask everyone along the way if they saw a man traveling with a woman."

He paused with a biscuit halfway to his mouth and added, "We'll offer to bribe folks if necessary."

"Good." Tyler returned his attention to the cup of coffee he'd been nursing.

He had no idea how to go about finding Carissa, but just sitting here was driving him insane.

"I wish the sheriff would come and tell us what's happening," Hannah said, helping Robert with his eggs. "It seems like it's been more than enough time.

He could have at least sent a telegram."

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone in town to ride out here and bring it,"

William replied. "Then again, maybe the lines are still down."

"I suppose it's possible." She picked up a piece of cinnamon roll and handed it to Robert.

Marty yawned and poured syrup on her grits while Andy helped himself to a hefty slab of ham and a roll. He popped a large piece of the latter in his mouth and smiled as he chewed.

275

"Sure good sweet rol s, Hannah," Andy said, shoving another piece in his mouth.

She smiled. "Glad you like them. I'm also very glad you're back unharmed."

Andy flashed a glance at William and then nodded. Tyler knew they had no intention of telling Hannah about his injury during the stampede. The men had all agreed that what happened on the trail was best kept among themselves. The women would only fret, and there would be other cattle drives to contend with next year. No sense in setting the stage for future battles.

Brandon entered the room at that point, carrying Laura in his arms. "Sorry we're late. I was coaxing Mrs. Reid to join us."

"I'm glad you did," Hannah said, jumping up to pull out an empty chair. "Sit here by me. That way I can get you anything you need."

Laura shook her head. "No one needs to make a fuss. I'm doing much better.

I feel a great deal stronger."

"And we want to keep it that way," Brandon told her. "So you will allow us to help you, or you will be banished to your room once again."

Hannah grinned. "I think he's serious."

"I know he is," Laura admitted. Brandon placed her on the chair and took the seat on the other side of her.

At the far end of the table, Pepita managed an animated Gloria. Tyler couldn't help but notice that the child was once again refusing to sit at the table without her dol . He supposed she was being indulged because of Carissa's absence, but the toy only served to remind him of the tangible loss for Gloria ... and for him.

276

"So when will you two leave?" Hannah asked.

Tyler turned from watching Gloria and motioned to the table. "As soon as I'm done eatin', I figure to get on the trail."

"I've had Juanita put some supplies together for you." Hannah seemed to approach the matter almost casually, but Tyler knew better. "There should be enough there for a couple of weeks."

Juanita came into the dining room just then. "Mister Will, riders come here."

Tyler was on his feet so fast that his chair went crashing over backward. He raced through the house and was out the front door just as the sheriff and several other mounted riders approached the house. Unfortunately, Carissa wasn't among their numbers.

"Sheriff, we'd just about given up hope of hearin' from you. Have you found Can ... Mrs. Lowe?" he asked.

The sheriff shook his head. "No, we gave up the trail a few days ago. I got back last night and found this waiting at my office. It's addressed to William. I figure it might be related to Mrs. Lowe's disappearance, seein's how her name is listed as the sender."

By now Wil iam and Hannah had fol owed Tyler outside to hear what the sheriff had to say. William stepped forward and took the brown-paper-wrapped parcel. He cut the string that bound it and opened the paper. Inside was a hunk of honey blond hair and a letter.

"That's Carissa's hair," Tyler said, taking it from the package. He felt the silky strands, thinking of how many times he'd longed to do that when he'd been near Carissa. William picked up the letter and let the brown paper fall to the ground.

"What's the letter say?" the sheriff asked.

277

"It's a ransom note. The gist of it is that we're to bring sixty thousand dollars in gold to the Whiskey Springs cutoff. We're supposed to leave it there, and they will pick it up. If the gold is all there, they will send instructions as to when and where we can retrieve Carissa." He looked to Tyler and then to the sheriff. "We're supposed to have it in one week's time." Hannah whispered something in Will's ear and he nodded.

"We can't get that kind of gold. There ain't that kind of gold in the South,"

Tyler protested.

"He's right," the sheriff said, shaking his head. "The man who wrote this seems to be educated enough to explain instructions.

Surely he would know that, as well."

Tyler looked at the bearded sheriff and then to William.

"We'll have to pretend to do as he says. But how?"

"We've got some gold here, and the bank in Dallas will have some. We could collect what we can and fill a chest. We'll put rocks on the bottom and the gold on top. Then we could make the drop, hide out, and watch them."

"Won't they check the gold right there and then?" the sheriff asked.

"We could put it in a lockbox," William replied. "With any luck at all, Lockhart will send his lackeys for it and they won't bother to open it."

"So you're convinced it's Lockhart?"

"Hannah recognizes the handwriting. She says there's no doubt that it's Lockhart. He was a partner to her father for years. Not only that, but he wrote Hannah letters. I trust that she knows what she's talking about. Besides, there really isn't anyone else who would have a reason to take a woman from this ranch and then ask for ransom. Like we mentioned before, if it had been Indians, they would have burned the place out

278

and killed everyone. Even if they planned to take hostages, they would have killed the men and taken the women and children."

"He's right," Tyler said. He still held fast to the hunk of Carissa's hair.

"Lockhart is a crafty individual," the sheriff said. "I think he's gonna know that you can't possibly get that kind of gold right away. Maybe he expects you to bring what you can and then arrange for the rest of it. Maybe he just figures to get what he can and escape."

"Well, whatever his plans, I intend to interfere with them," Tyler said, his eyes narrowing. "I intend to do what I can to get Carissa back here safe and sound."

"I do, too," William said with a sigh, "but the sheriff is right. Lockhart can't imagine that we would have sixty thousand in gold. I know he believed Hannah's father left a huge treasure of the stuff, but what he left we found long ago. I think maybe we do what we can to set up an ambush in the area of this drop. If we move out and work at night, we ought to be able to use the darkness to conceal our actions. It'll be just like some of the stuff we did in the war."

"Well, we're goin' with you," the sheriff said.

"Give us five minutes," Tyler answered before William could respond. He met his friend's gaze and felt assured by his nod of affirmation.

The sound of other riders drew their attention to the west. William put a hand to his eyes. "Looks like Ted and Marietta are comin' to lend a hand."

Tyler caught sight of the wagon and half a dozen mounted riders. "Good. We can use all the help we can get."

279

To Carissa's surprise, Lockhart returned to the shack, but Jesse and the others were nowhere to be seen. She felt uneasy being left alone with the known killer.

Watching her closely, Lockhart smiled. "I suppose you've been planning your escape."

She said nothing. Instead, Carissa watched his every move.

He removed a revolver from his holster and placed it on the table. Her eyes narrowed and he laughed.

"I guess, too, that you'd shoot me with this if you could lay your hands on it."

He leaned back in the chair. "Really, I'm not as awful a man as Hannah Dandridge --excuse me, Barnett--would lead you to believe. I only did what was necessary to survive. I had never planned any real harm for Hannah."

"Then why would you order her kidnapped?"

"Because I intend to take her with me to Mexico. Barnett robbed me of what was most important to me ... my freedom.

So I'll take what's most important to him."

"She's expecting a baby," Carissa said matter-of-factly.

"Dragging her off on a trip like that would cause her to miscarry or deliver early. She would probably bleed to death." She thought perhaps her frankness would cause him to reconsider.

"Then she would die and I wouldn't have to kil her."

"But you said you didn't plan to harm Hannah."

"No, I said I had never planned any real harm. That was in the past. Hannah is as much to blame for my imprisonment as her husband. I mean to see them both pay for what they've done."

"And what about me?"

"You? Well, I'll simply get the money and leave. I'll send them word where they can find you, but by then I'll be long gone to Mexico."

280

"Without Hannah?"

"For now," he said, smiling.

She shook her head. "But how can you let me go? I know who you are."

"Unless I've missed my guess, Mrs. Lowe, so do they." He sat down at the table and fixed her with a rather amused expression. "But that really isn't important. I want them to know. I want them afraid. I want you to go back and let them know that I will constantly be a threat in their lives. They will never have a moment's peace. With sixty thousand dollars, I'll have enough to buy all the help I need. And one day, when they expect it the least, my people will strike."

Carissa shuddered at the thought. Lockhart would hold them hostage in a way they couldn't even fight. They would constantly have to watch over their shoulders. Their children would never be safe, and Hannah could never be allowed out of the protection of the family's trusted men.

"So you'll just let this vendetta of yours go on for a lifetime?" Carissa shook her head. "Sounds like you'll be back in prison."

He laughed. "You are such a naive little thing. I'll have all the freedom I want.

That's the glory of hiring the dirty work done by others. You needn't fret, Mrs.

Lowe. I'll be quite content."

"I doubt William Barnett will sit by idly," she said. "I doubt any of the men there will tolerate your plans. Not only will they see to her safety, but William will hunt you down."

For the first time since he started talking, Lockhart looked momentarily rattled. He toyed with the revolver and shook his head. "It will do him no good."

"I think you underestimate him," Carissa said, recognizing 281

the need to instill doubt in Lockhart's mind. "You must remember: William was a soldier. He knows about ambushing and waiting out the enemy."

"He also took a bullet in the leg that nearly crippled him.

Tell me, does he still walk with a limp?"

"Some," Carissa replied, "but I've yet to see it stop him.

While you were sitting in prison, Wil iam was making friends and securing his future. And did I mention that my father has been working closely with the Mexican government? I would venture to guess that William could work with him--and authorities in Mexico--to hunt you down." She smiled and leaned back against the iron rail.

"For someone in your position, you run your mouth very freely." Lockhart said between clenched teeth.

Carissa shrugged. "I'm quite confident of my protectors,

Mr. Lockhart. You have the power to hurt me--to kill me. I know that. But should you do that ... well ... let's just say, it won't bode well for you. And that gives me great comfort."

Lockhart frowned. It was clear she'd unnerved him. He picked up the revolver and got to his feet. For a moment he looked at her, and Carissa wondered if she'd pushed him too far. But without another word, he holstered the piece and headed toward the kitchen area of the shack. Only then did Carissa realize that her hands were shaking. She felt her pulse racing, and she thought she might faint at any given moment.

Lord, give me strength, she prayed silently. Closing her eyes, Carissa forced her breathing to even. She could feel clarity return, and the darkness that had threatened her only moments earlier faded. It felt as if God were speaking to her in this quiet way, to assure her that He had heard her cries ...

and that gave Carissa a great sense of comfort.