Revealed (Intrigue Under Western Skies Book 3) Read online

  “That’s right.” Elmira got in their faces. “When Gerald took sick, I hired Mr. Jenkins to investigate your marriage. Know what I found out? You had a living husband when you married my brother.” She looked down her nose at them. “That means you are not Gerald’s widow.”

  “It’s a lie,” Mama spouted, but Katherine noted she’d turned white and gripped her waist tighter.

  “No, your marriage was a lie. It wasn’t legal.” She turned her hateful gaze on Katherine. “And your daughter isn’t legal, either.”

  Not legal? The full impact of what this hateful woman was saying hit Katherine like a dart in the heart. If Mama weren’t holding onto her, she’d have fallen into the floor. In fact, she wished the floor would open up and take her. The father she’d loved, who’d cherished her all her life. Wasn’t her real father?

  Then who was?

  Elvira stepped back as if she didn’t want to breathe the same air as Katherine and Mama. “If you’d read those papers Mr. Jenkins has been trying to hand you, you’d see where you stand. The judge was quite generous to give you until the end of the week to move out. Thad and Dake here will take an inventory of everything to make sure you take nothing more than personal items.”

  As if on cue, the cousins extracted notepads from their coat pockets. One went upstairs, and the other began taking note of furniture, paintings, even the drapes.

  “Mr. Jenkins will stay with Thad and Dake to insure everything is in order. As for me, I shall wait outside in the carriage.” She turned on her heel and made for the door. “I don’t feel comfortable being in the presence of such a disgusting harlot.”

  A surge of anger propelled Katherine across the floor. “Don’t you dare call my mother that. Papa told me what a horrible person you were, and he was right.”

  Elvira drew back as if she expected Katherine to strike her. “My advice for you, Missy, is find your real father. He’s rich. He can take care of you.”

  Mama recovered her composure and spoke in a remarkably calm voice. “Don’t worry about her, Katherine. I’ll get a lawyer of my own. We aren’t going anywhere.”

  They had consulted another lawyer, but their efforts were futile. They were forced out of their beautiful, roomy home into this cramped house in the worst neighborhood, and lucky to get that. Katherine had sold Mama’s jewels for a fraction of their value, and they’d lived on that with what little Katherine earned at the hat shop.

  But Mama got worse.

  She’d finally, reluctantly, told Katherine about her legal father, Cortland Cason, though she denied he was her biological father. Surprisingly, that brought some comfort. At least she belonged to the Papa she loved.

  Mama surprised her again when she sent inquiries about Cortland Cason and discovered he’d passed away three years ago. And she’d admitted Rhyan Cason was her son.

  Even so, she adamantly refused to contact him. Gradually, Katherine learned Mama’s reluctance rested on nothing but guilt.

  As her condition worsened, she became convinced she was going to die soon. According to Mama, it would be better for Katherine to wait until she was gone before contacting her brother.

  No argument Katherine raised would budge her—and Katherine had pleaded every reason, including the obvious. That Rhyan would want to be reunited with his mother before she died. It was unfair to him. Didn’t he deserve better than to think his own mother never wanted to see him again.

  Every mention of writing Rhyan sent Mama into another attack.

  Katherine lifted her tired eyes and spied Papa’s Bible. She’d searched the Scriptures often enough, hoping for some insight into her future. But God seemed far away.

  Someone had told her God never moves. If we find ourselves further from God, it’s we who’ve move. She took the Bible in hand and opened it to where she’d placed her bookmark weeks ago.

  Lord, I don’t know what to do? I can’t disobey Mama. She’d never disobeyed Mama or Papa and would never think of dishonoring them, despite what Elvira had said.

  Tears filmed her eyes, and she blinked to bring the words into focus.

  You have not because you ask not.

  But she had asked, many times. Prayed. Begged. Wept.

  How did she expect God to answer when He wouldn’t force Mama to do what she didn’t want to do? But Rhyan might want to come if only he knew. How could she tell him without defying Mama?

  Sighing deeply, she laid the Bible aside and ambled to her desk. She touched the photographs of her brother and ran her finger down to the one of Carianne holding the baby, as if she could will her thoughts to fly through the air to them.

  Abruptly, inspiration hit. She sat on her little stool and fumbled through the papers for a clean sheet. After opening the ink pot, she gripped the pen.

  Mama had forbidden her to write to Rhyan, but she’d said nothing about writing to his wife. God used people to carry out His will, and her sister-in-law was the one who could do it.

  Without waiting for doubts to crowd in, she put pen to paper.

  Dear Carianne, You don’t know me, but…

  Chapter 2

  Westerfield, Nebraska

  Outside the post office, Colt Holliman lifted his Stetson to allow the summer breeze to cool his head. He shoved the satchel containing Sollano’s mail under his arm and sent a squinted gaze down the street to his wagon.

  No sign of Carianne, which meant she could be anywhere. He’d known as soon as he agreed with Rhyan’s request to drive his wife into town, it would be a long morning. Not that Colt would have refused anything to the Casons. They were neighbors and good friends.

  He’d hoped Rhyan’s caution would lessen after he became a Christian, but since his first child arrived, he’d gotten worse. Sure, he’d accumulated a passel of enemies over the years by his stance on the Open Range Act, among other things, but he’d always pushed back as good as he got and enjoyed the fight.

  That’s what having a family did to a man. When men came gunning for you, the situation got a lot more serious if you had a family to consider. Rhyan had turned as wary as a scout going through Indian country.

  Marriage had changed Rhyan even before the baby came. Nothing unusual about that. Every married man’s first priority was his wife’s protection and happiness, but the talk of rustlers in the area had Rhyan almost paranoid.

  Colt couldn’t help but think Rhyan was keeping something back from him and Carianne.

  His boots pounded the wooden sidewalk. How blessed he was to have a future wife of his own to think of, but Charley could take care of herself. In fact, she’d been hired to be Carianne’s companion and bodyguard. Until Carianne opened the Western Gates Exposition and Culture Center, and Charley joined the Wild West Show.

  Charlene Marston, better known as Charley Ryder, could shoot straighter and faster than anyone in these parts. And she was the best trick rider in the country.

  Horses. That was the only thing he had in common with Charley.

  What did it matter? She was the prettiest girl around. Talented. Talkative. Tender. What more could he ask for, even if they were as different as dancing shoes to boots?

  He sidestepped to give space to two ladies so engrossed in conversation they’d have plowed right into him if he hadn’t moved. Strangers. Not too long ago, he knew everyone in this little prairie town.

  The street crowded with cowboys and businessmen, horses, wagons, and buggies. Westerfield was growing. The town had replaced hitching rails and water troughs. Hired boys kept the road clean and lit the streetlights each evening. Three new buildings towered proudly at the north end.

  The sunlight slanting over rooflines put an urgency in his steps. He had to get Carianne back home before noon.

  She’d be anxious to get back to the ranch house and her new baby. Likely as not she’d gotten wrangled by her friends demanding an account of every bit of news. Trouble was, ladies always felt the need to return the gesture by pulling out every scrap of gossip going back to who knew when.
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  Colt opened the door to the mercantile. Familiar scents of leather, tobacco, kerosene, and new fabric met him like an old friend.

  The sound of female chatter drew him to the back counter where he spied Carianne with Rachel Hadley and Myra Landry. They hadn’t even looked back at the door’s tinkling bell to see who came in.

  He sidled to the harnesses hanging from pegs in the wall. The ladies would come up for air in time. Not surprisingly, they were discussing the new baby.

  “He’s just the sweetest thing, Myra,” Rachel said. “You know how most babies come out with lopsided heads? Well, little Davy’s is as round as a pumpkin.”

  Carianne’s distinctive laughter trilled. “But not that big, thank goodness.”

  “Not yet anyway, but we’ll spoil him so much, he’ll get the big-head before he’s walking.” Myra snort-chuckled. “I’ll have to get out there and see for myself. I knew as soon as I left for Cleveland, you’d have that baby.”

  Myra had been visiting relatives in Ohio for the past several weeks. In fact, Colt wasn’t aware she’d returned. Frank, her husband, hadn’t said a word about it when Colt stopped at the apothecary for some liniment.

  “She had as easy a time of it as anyone I’ve ever seen.” Rachel’s tone hushed, but not enough to keep Colt from hearing more than he wanted to. “She wasn’t in labor but for five hours.”

  “Well, there were a few hours before I told anyone.” Something always compelled Carianne to set the record straight. “Remember how I got lots of outside exercise. You laughed at me when I said farm women had easier births because they are more physically fit than society ladies.”

  Rachel sniffed. “Speaking as a farm woman, I didn’t have it that easy. I was there with you, remember. Doc Ulrich got there less than an hour before that baby popped out.”

  “Yes, but it had gotten rather intense by that time. I’m afraid I kicked the poor doctor right in the face.”

  Rachel drew in an audible breath. “You did? That must have been when I went to get the hot water. Is that why the doc sported a black eye the next week?”

  Myra cackled loud enough to lay an egg. “A black eye? I’ll have to get onto him about that next time I see him.”

  Carianne was aghast. “You will not. The poor man was embarrassed enough that Rhyan was in the room.”

  “Rhyan was in the room?” Myra’s tone indicated she’d never heard of such a thing, and she probably hadn’t. Doctors and midwives usually chased the men out of the birthing room.

  “I can attest to that,” Rachel said. “And he didn’t even faint, but I guess he’s seen plenty of cows give birth.”

  “Are you comparing me to a cow?” The teasing note in Carianne’s voice belied her outrage. “Then again, I did dry up for no reason like a cow.”

  “Carianne can’t nurse,” Rachel put in. “Mrs. Elder hired on as wet nurse.”

  Colt felt the heat burning his neck. Didn’t these women know he was within hearing distance? He coughed.

  That caught Myra’s attention. “Colt, can I help you with something, hon?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Are you ready to go?” Carianne asked.

  “No hurry. I’ll look through the shirts. I need a new one.” He ambled to the table holding the men’s wear, not needing anything in that department.

  “All right. We’ll leave shortly. This is as long as I’ve been away from Davy yet, and I have a strong urge to get back and assure myself he’s fine. Though Mrs. Elder takes good care of him.”

  “Lila Elder? Her baby’s not very old. So she moved out to Sollano and is nursing both babies?” Myra asked.

  “You hadn’t heard yet? Lila’s baby died.”

  Myra slapped her jaw. “Oh. My. Word. No, I hadn’t heard. How awful.”

  “Yeah, he was perfectly healthy when she put him down.” Carianne continued the story. “When she woke up the next morning, she realized the baby hadn’t awakened her in the night and was so happy he’d learned to sleep through the night. Imagine her horror when she found him gone. It was indeed awful.”

  “Bless her heart,” Myra murmured.

  “I don’t know that I could do it. She’s been so wonderful to pick up and help us out, and she loves Davy like her own.”

  “I always thought she was a fine Christian woman. For sure I’ll have to get out there to see her and the baby.”

  “You do that.” Skirts rustled as the ladies hugged. “I’ve kept Colt waiting long enough. We’ll have tea tomorrow. You come too, Rachel.”

  Colt held the door open for Carianne. “Good day, ladies,” he addressed Myra and Rachel.

  “Tell Emma to join us for tea,” Myra said.

  “Ma’s out at Sollano most every day, anyway. She says she’s doing the canning with Maria, but I think she just goes to play with the baby.” Maybe that wasn’t fair. Ma and Maria, the Sollano housekeeper, had been canning together every summer because Maria’s kitchen was so much bigger than theirs at the Double Bar H.

  After Carianne got settled on the wagon seat, Colt handed her the ranch mail satchel and took up the reins. “Not too heavy for the end of the week.” He referred to the mail bag which was normally bulging.

  “That’s good. The Cattlemen’s Association has kept Rhyan busy. He doesn’t need any more business to take care of.”

  Colt cleared the town’s traffic and crossed the river bridge. The clip-clop of the horses’ hooves accompanied the rattle of paper as Carianne went through her mail. When she went silent, he cut his eyes toward her.

  She held one letter up to the sky as if she had trouble reading it. “Something wrong?” he asked.

  “This is very strange.” She dropped the letter to her lap. “It’s from Charleston. I don’t know anyone from Charleston.”

  “Maybe it’s business.”

  “But look at the way it’s addressed. All my business correspondence is addressed to Mrs. Rhyan Cason. This one says, Carianne Cason. Kind of personal, don’t you think?”

  He caught sight of the return address as she waved the letter again. “You never heard of this Katherine Levinson?”

  “I’ve never heard of any Levinsons. It’s a real mystery.”

  He bumped her shoulder. “Carianne, I know how you can solve the mystery. Open the letter.”

  She snickered under her breath in her Carianne way. “I guess I could do that.”

  Colt took the turn in the road to Sollano and waited to hear the solution to the mystery, but she remained silent. For too long. “What’s it say?” he prompted.

  She looked up. Hazel eyes almost filled her whole face, mouth hung wide open. Sweat trickled down his backbone, or maybe it was apprehension. Carianne wasn’t theatrical. Not like Charley.

  “Do you know who it’s from?”

  A useless question. “Who?”

  “Rhyan’s sister.”

  “Rhyan doesn’t have a sis—” The rest of it froze in this throat. There’d been rumors that Rhyan’s mother was with child when she ran away with her lover. All he could do was stare into Carianne’s eyes—as she stared at him. He gulped. “Arabella.”

  The name floated in the warm air for several beats, but nothing else needed saying. Carianne’s head dipped in a nod. “She’s still alive, but Katherine—that’s Rhyan’s sister—says her mother is very sick, and they need help.”

  Anger flashed through Colt like a sudden lightning strike from a summer storm. Now they needed help. He recalled how many times Rhyan had searched for his mother. How many detectives he’d hired. Only to have one hope after another dashed by false leads.

  No one knew where to look, but Arabella knew where Rhyan was all along. Why hadn’t she sent him word before now? Evidently, she didn’t care as long as she’d been doing fine. Now she was sick, she needed his help. And she didn’t even have the nerve to write to him herself, but got her daughter to write to Carianne.

  Arabella hadn’t even let Rhyan know he had a sister.

  Colt didn’t
realize he’d reined in the horses until Carianne asked, “Why did you stop?”

  The reins had fallen out of his hands, and he fumbled to retrieve them. He set the stalled mares to trotting. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to give this to Rhyan as soon as I get home. I hope he’s not out on the range.”

  “If he is, I’ll go find him.”

  She stuffed the papers back into the satchel. “Can you get this trap to move faster?”

  He almost never used a whip on his horses, but he didn’t even think about it as he brought the whip down on the mares’ rumps.

  Looked like Rhyan had another change coming.

  ***

  The next afternoon he rode the same path to Sollano on his sturdy roan gelding, Rusty. He’d seen Rhyan and Carianne off on the noon train headed east and promised to check on the ranch during their absence, although Carlos, the manager, was more than capable.

  They didn’t know how long they would be gone, and Colt understood that. Katherine’s letter hadn’t given many details.

  As he approached the ranch house, he spied Charley coming from the Double Bar H. She lived in the room at the Western Gates in town, but it wasn’t unusual to for her to be at the Double Bar H since she helped train the horses there for the Wild West Show.

  Charley was the Wild West Show. The prettiest woman in britches on either side of the Mississippi. Or anything else she chose to wear, in his opinion.

  She was all femininity in the show, dressed in a sequined costume, riding bareback and barefooted. An acrobat of the first order, she could backflip on a galloping pony, do handstands, step from one horse to the other. All to the gawking approval of the audience.

  If that wasn’t enough, she joined her cousins in the shooting tricks, outdrawing both of them. That was about all her cousins, Simon and Hayes, were good for. They couldn’t ride worth a hoot.

  Charley was a sight to behold and was making a name for herself. Already people were coming from all over the country to see her perform.

  She, along with Simon and Hayes, had worked for a circus out of Chicago. Carianne had managed to entice them to star in her Wild West exposition. It went on quarterly now, but they had vague plans to send it on tour in the future.