Kendrick: Outlaw's Bride Part 11

"No-" She was almost frantic to get away from him.

But he was stronger. When he finally got her turned around, she burst into tears. He drew her into his arms and held her close.

"It's all right, Merielle. It's only me. It's Frank."

"I'm sorry, Frank. I don't know why I got so scared," she confessed.

But he knew.

He could feel her shuddering. "Shhh," he soothed. "I'm not going to hurt you. No one's ever going to hurt you again."

"I ... I ... my head hurts," she said. "I think there's something I should remember, but when I try, it hurts!"

"Then don't try," he said in a quiet voice.

Frank cupped Merielle's face in one hand and caressed her damp cheek with the pad of his thumb. "Smile for me," he said in a gentle voice.

Merielle managed a wobbly smile. "I'll always smile for you, Frank."

He turned her toward the barn door. "Go on, now. And tell your father I'll be there in a minute."

The instant she was gone, Frank let out the sob that had been building in his chest. He brushed his eyes roughly with the sleeve of his shirt and tried to get hold of himself. It wasn't the end of the world. She considered him her friend. She smiled for him. He could still love her.

Only not as a woman.

His throat felt raw, swollen so thick it hurt. "G.o.d! Do something! Help me!" he pleaded in a raspy voice. "I don't know how long I can keep on seeing her every day, wanting her, and knowing I can never have her."

There was no answering voice. Because he was living in h.e.l.l. There was no G.o.d here.

Patch paused one step beyond the shadowed alley and squinted her eyes against the brilliant sunlight. Ethan was more careful. He stopped and stared out into the sunlight from the safety of the alley until his eyes had adjusted to the differing light. He couldn't afford to be blinded even for a second. A bullet was faster than chain lightning with a link snapped.

When Ethan stood at her side, Patch said, "I have to make a stop at the post office first and mail a letter to my family. Why don't you go ahead to the sheriff's office, and I'll meet you there."

"I'm not sure I should let you out of my sight," Ethan replied with a wry smile. "I might not see you again till suppertime."

Patch wrinkled her nose at him. "I'm only going across the street."

"All right. But don't be long." Ethan studied the main street of town with narrowed eyes. "And watch your step."

"I'll be fine," Patch a.s.sured him. "You're the one who needs to be careful." She let her gaze follow the same path as his. "Do you really think there's someone waiting out there to shoot you?"

"Crowd the fence and someone's liable to boost you over."

Patch waited for the dust to settle after a wagon loaded with farm tools pa.s.sed, then began her trek across the rutted dirt road. When she arrived on the other side, she looked for Ethan over her shoulder, but all she saw was the door to the sheriff's office closing.

She walked briskly into the Oakville Mercantile, intending to drop off her letter and leave. After all, she had promised Ethan she would join him as soon as she could. She fully intended to keep that promise. Of course, that was before she ran into Merielle Trahern.

Merielle wasn't alone. Frank was with her. Patch was dying to ask whether Frank had found an opportunity to speak with Merielle about the past, and what the results of that talk might have been. Merielle hadn't seen her yet, so Patch mouthed to Frank, Have you talked to her?

Frank mouthed back, Yes.

Does she remember anything?

Frank shook his head once, twice. No.

Before Patch had time to register the disappointment she felt, Merielle spied her.

"Patch! My friend, Patch!" Merielle's face was wreathed in a smile of delight. "Where have you been? I wanted to invite you to come to my house, but I didn't know how to find you."

Patch accepted Merielle's embrace and hugged her back. "I'm staying with a friend of mine, and yours too, once upon a time-Ethan Hawk."

Patch ignored the frown Frank aimed at her for bringing up Ethan's name. She was too busy searching Merielle's face for any sign of recognition.

Merielle's pretty brow furrowed. "Ethan Hawk? Do I know him?" She placed a gloved fingertip to her temple.

"Is something wrong?" Patch asked.

"I ... My head hurts."

Because she's trying to remember, Patch thought. But why did remembering hurt? Obviously, the events of that day were simply too horrible to contemplate. Or maybe it was more than that. What if it had been someone close to Merielle who had violated her trust? Like Frank.

Or Ethan.

Patch shoved that second thought aside. She wouldn't believe that Ethan was capable of such a heinous crime. It occurred to Patch that if it hurt Merielle to try to remember, the memories were there!

Obviously, Frank was too protective of Merielle-or worried about the answers she might give-to force her to recall the past. Patch wasn't. Somehow, she had to find a way to be alone with Merielle, to provoke the girl's memory, to force her to confront what had happened and remember.

Frank loomed over Merielle's shoulder. "We'd better be leaving now. Your pa-"

Merielle shook her head and stood her ground. "I don't want to leave. I want to talk to Patch."

To Patch's surprise, Mr. Felber appeared at Merielle's other shoulder. "Jefferson Trahern wouldn't take it kindly if you upset his daughter," he warned Patch.

"Patch is my friend," Merielle said to Mr. Felber. "She's coming to my house for supper."

"Miz Kendrick probably has other plans," Frank said. His message to Patch was clear: Don't come.

"I'm not doing anything that would keep me from joining Merielle for supper," Patch countered with a beatific smile at Frank.

Frank's lips pressed flat in disapproval. For some reason, Mr. Felber didn't look too happy, either.

"When can you come?" Merielle asked.

"When would you like me to come?"

"Today."

"Your father might have other plans," Frank cautioned Merielle.

"He won't mind if I invite Patch. Do you, Father?"

Patch turned and saw that Jefferson Trahern had entered the store. Her first impressions were of power and pride. He was a big man, both broad and tall, with collar-length white hair and a neatly trimmed salt and pepper mustache. He was wearing a black broadcloth suit with a brocade vest that hid a slight paunch at his waist and a string tie that emphasized the sagging flesh at his throat.

This was the Jefferson Trahern she had imagined, a man who wouldn't hesitate to crush his enemy. This man was easy to hate.

Her second impressions were no less distinct, but gave her a contrary image of Trahern which made her uneasy. Lines of pain and bitterness pinched his nose and bracketed his mouth. When his gaze alighted on his daughter, his dark brown eyes bore a look so sad they made Patch want to weep.

But it would be a cold day in h.e.l.l before she wept for Jefferson Trahern. This was the man who had hounded Ethan Hawk to h.e.l.l and back. Trahern had made sure Ethan spent the better part of his youth in prison. Trahern wanted Ethan Hawk dead.

Patch curled her clawed fingers into daintily gloved fists that she kept hidden in her skirt. She wasn't about to let Trahern know what she really thought of him. The smile on her face as she turned to greet Merielle's father was so warm it would have melted b.u.t.ter.

"Why, h.e.l.lo," she said. "I don't believe we've met, Mr. Trahern. I'm Patricia Kendrick."

Trahern tipped his flat-crowned hat. "Nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Kendrick. Merielle has told me about you."

Patch was surprised. "She did?"

Trahern gave Patch a look up and down. She was careful to keep her eyes lowered demurely, to look as mild-mannered and gently bred as she possibly could.

Merielle hurried over to her father and looped her arm through his. "Father, I've invited Patch to supper tonight. You don't mind if she comes, do you?"

Trahern pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I suppose it would be all right."

Merielle stood on her toes and tugged on her father's arm so he knew to bend down for her kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, Father."

Merielle turned to Patch, her face beaming. "See, I told you he wouldn't mind."

"Are you sure it won't be any trouble?" Patch asked Trahern.

"If my daughter wants you to come to supper, you'll come."

Trahern's statement sounded more like an order than an invitation. Patch bit back a scathing retort, told her neck hairs to settle down, and nodded her acquiescence. "What time?" she asked.

"We eat after the sun sets."

"I'll be there," Patch said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another appointment." She swept past Trahern, dropped her letter on the counter for Mr. Felber to send off in the next day's mail, and left the mercantile with her chin up and her shoulders squared.

Once outside, Patch crossed beyond the window out of sight, then quickly backed up against the wooden wall of the building. She took several deep breaths. She unballed her fists and realized her hands were trembling.

Patch knew it was unreasonable to despise Jefferson Trahern. He had lost his beautiful daughter on the same day his only son was killed. His grief must have been awful, overwhelming. She couldn't blame him for wanting justice. She probably would have applauded his efforts, if only he weren't stalking the man she loved. But Jefferson Trahern had to be stopped. And the best way to do that was to find out the truth.

"Miss Kendrick?"

Patch whirled at the sound of Trahern's voice. Think of the devil, and he lands on your doorstep.

"Are you all right?"

"You surprised me." Patch put a hand on her heart as though she could slow it down from the outside.

"I wanted a chance to talk to you privately."

"We're alone now." Patch had no intention of going anywhere with Jefferson Trahern.

Trahern looked around him. There was no one coming along the boardwalk in either direction. They stood in the shade of a live oak, so the heat wasn't unbearable. "All right. I can say what I have to say here. I want to know what your relationship is to Ethan Hawk. I want to know why you're staying at the Double Diamond. And I want to know why you've befriended my daughter."

That was plain speaking.

Patch started with the last question, because it was the easiest to answer. "I didn't choose to befriend Merielle, she chose me. I know she isn't ... quite right. But I think she needs a friend, and I can be that to her.

"I'm staying at the Double Diamond because Mrs. Hawk is ill, and she needs someone to do the cooking and cleaning and to keep an eye on her young daughter."

Patch avoided answering the most difficult question directly. "I know you've sworn vengeance on Ethan Hawk, that you blame him for everything bad that's happened to your children. But I believe you've wronged him. Someday, soon, I hope to prove that to you."

"I plan to see Ethan Hawk dead and buried if it's the last thing I do," Trahern said. "If you know what's good for you, you'll keep your distance from him."

"I won't leave Mrs. Hawk to manage alone," Patch said.

"Suit yourself."

He started across the street, and Patch hurried to catch up with him. "Am I still invited for supper?"

He paused in the middle of the street, and such was his presence that he stopped a dray full of lumber coming one way and a load of cotton coming from the other. "I won't deny my daughter anything she wants. If you wish to come, Miss Kendrick, you're welcome."

He left her standing there, and she was lucky not to be run over when the two wagons swung back into motion. It wasn't until she reached the sidewalk that she realized Trahern's destination.

He was opening the door to the sheriff's office.

Patch experienced a terrifying moment when she imagined what would happen when Jefferson Trahern and Ethan Hawk met face-to-face with only Careless Lachlan to referee. She was frozen in a state of helpless panic. There was no way she could get there in time to prevent what was going to happen.

She was so focused on the door to the sheriffs office that she never saw Ethan until he was beside her.

"What are you doing here? I thought ..." Her face seesawed from Ethan to the sheriff's office and back.

"Shall we stroll this way?" Ethan placed her arm through his and headed down the boardwalk away from the jail.

"Ethan, what-"

"Later," he said. "I think it's time we headed for home."

Careless Lachlan never looked up from his plate when he heard the front door open and shut. d.a.m.n that Ethan Hawk, stirring up trouble, keeping a man from his dinner. It was plumb loco to open up an investigation of a crime committed seventeen years ago. He had told Ethan everything he knew. Which was nothing. What did the d.a.m.ned man want from him now? "What the h.e.l.l're you doin' back here-"

Careless glanced up to see Jefferson Trahern standing in front of him. The forkful of food he had just shoveled into his mouth came spewing back out. He bobbed to his feet, grabbed the red-checkered cloth tucked under his chin, and swiped at the mashed potatoes on his chin and scattered in clumps across his desk.

Trahern retrieved the gold pocket watch from his vest pocket, extended it the length of the gold chain that held it there, snapped it open, checked the time, and snapped it closed again. "It's exactly one o'clock. Did we, or did we not, have an appointment today?"

Careless stood there looking like a fool and feeling like a jacka.s.s. "We did. Have a seat, Mr. Trahern." Careless gestured toward the nearest chair, but it was piled high with posters and flyers. He gestured to another that held a frayed Montgomery Ward catalog. In fact, there wasn't any surface in the room that wasn't covered with something.

"Why don't you clean this place up?" Trahern asked in an irritated voice. "Sheriff of a town ought to be a little neater, don't you think?"