McKettrick's Choice - Linda Lael Miller [85]
Lorelei kept her mule alongside Rafe’s magnificent black gelding. She wanted to look back, but she knew it wouldn’t serve any purpose except to make her sorrowful. “You’re not afraid of that? Dying, I mean?”
Rafe sighed. “I don’t want to leave this party any sooner than I have to,” he said. “But just about the first thing our pa taught us was that a man decides whether he’s going to be scared or not. That decision determines whatever he does after that. Same goes for a woman, naturally.”
Being fairly certain that her eyes were in shadow, thanks to her hat brim, Lorelei let her gaze stray to Holt, riding ahead. His back was straight, and she knew every one of his senses was in full play. Wondered what it was like to be so sure of oneself, trusting in an innate ability to handle whatever presented itself, be it expected or unexpected.
“So that’s why your brother is like he is,” she mused.
Rafe shifted in the saddle. They’d gained the trail now, and the whole party was picking up speed. Chief traveled at a trot, and Seesaw kept pace. “Holt didn’t grow up with the rest of the family,” he said. “Pa left him behind with his first wife’s people, here in Texas, after she gave up the ghost. I know Pa thought it was for the best, at the time, since Holt was about the size of Pearl there, and needed a mother and a roof over his head. I’m not sure Holt would agree, though. He went through some hard times, until Mr. Cavanagh took him in. He and Pa have had their go-rounds about the matter right along, that’s for sure.”
Lorelei was intrigued, and there was a long, hard and perilous ride ahead. A conversation would serve as a welcome distraction, and fill in some gaps between wondering and knowing, too. “Do you come from a large family?” she ventured, keeping her tone carefully light. She still missed William, and wished there had been other brothers and sisters to grow up with.
“We’ve got two younger brothers—Kade and Jeb. The three of us were born and raised on the Triple M Ranch, up in the Arizona Territory. Our ma died when we were boys—took a fever after a horse spilled her off in the creek—but we were lucky, just the same. We had Concepcion, the housekeeper, and she mothered us from there.” He paused, smiled. “Pa married up with Concepcion a while back, and now we’ve got a sister, too. Her name is Katie and she’s something. Then there’s Lizzie, that’s Holt’s girl. My wife and I, we’ve got a daughter, Georgia, and Kade and Jeb are both married, too, with little girls of their own.”
“That’s wonderful,” Lorelei said, and she meant it, but something inside her cracked, saying the words. Opened up a bleak and lonely place, yawning square in the middle of who she was.
“I guess I’m talking your leg off,” Rafe said.
“I’m enjoying it,” she answered.
“What about you, Lorelei? How’d you grow up?”
Lorelei supposed turn-about was fair play. “My brother and mother both died when I was pretty young. Angelina and Raul took care of me.”
“The judge never remarried, then?”
“No,” Lorelei said, and for the first time in her life, she realized she was sorry about that. A stepmother might have changed everything—maybe for the worse, but more likely, for the better.
Rafe stood in the stirrups, stretching his long, powerful legs. “I’d better ride up ahead and keep Holt company for a while,” he said, with some resignation. “Don’t want him thinking I’m a slacker.”
Lorelei smiled at that, though she was sorry to see Rafe go. She liked him, and wanted to know more about the McKettrick tribe, though she couldn’t have said what any of their doings had to do with her. “Go ahead,” she said.
They stopped at midday, to rest and water the horses at a stream, and made a meal of what was left of the beans and biscuits. Mr. Cavanagh washed out the big kettle he carried in the back of the wagon, filled it with water, and poured in hard pinto beans to soak until supper.
Lorelei stayed clear of Holt during the stop, and he stayed clear of her. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but it seemed prudent, so she just let things be.
When it was time to