Gather The Children (Chronicles of the Maca Book 2) (29 page)

“You're saying that Lorenz is going to be one dangerous man.” Bitterness and jealousy of his younger brother began to show in Daniel's tone and his words.

MacDonald gave Daniel a slight smile and said softly. “Lorenz tis already a dangerous being. He tis learning, however, to control his temper and the gentler ways of accomplishing the same end, but, aye, he twill be a formidable opponent when he tis a man for he twill also have the strength of a Justine which lies hidden neath their scrawny appearance.”

Lorenz's eyes lighted at the thought, and MacDonald continued. “This, however, does nay change the fact that any wee ones any of ye have may have some or all of these qualities. Our problem right now is how did Margareatha come by her knowledge, and how much danger lies there for all of us. Toma is nay doubt a danger for he too twill ken I am Thalian, but if ye,” and he looked at Rita, “did nay learn this from Toma, the ones with such lore may decide we are too dangerous.”

Rita met his steadfast gaze and shook her head. “I promised Red the source would remain hidden, and I shan't break that promise. I don't see how they are dangerous since Red is supplying them with food in his shipping business.”

MacDonald asked, “Are they dependent upon him for their food?”

“I can't answer that question.”

Anna stood, “I cannot believe du vould endanger all of us because of a promise to O'Neal!”

Rita laid one slender hand on her left chest and said, “I swear, Mama, I would never do anything to endanger you. I feel you are all more in danger from that man sitting there.” She glared at MacDonald and swung back to face her mother. “Mama, I would rather speak when it is just you and I.”

“Nein! Mr. MacDonald is my husband. There are no secrets between us.”

Rita sat back, her shoulders slumping while Daniel raised his voice. “I don't believe any of this.” He stood. “You all are crazy. I'm not listening to anymore of this. I'm going to bed. We're supposed to be gathering and branding beeves tomorrow.” He stomped out.

MacDonald and Anna looked at each other. “Mayhap the laddie has a point. We are tired, and there tis always work that twill nay wait. See what sense ye can talk into her whilst we are gone.” He bowed in Rita's direction and looked at Anna. “My love?”

“Ja.” She smiled at him.

Rita slept late and missed breakfast. The noise from pots and pans and the clanking from spur clad men failed to disturb her. She awoke to sunshine and Mina staring at her with accusation in her brown eyes and a set look to the baby mouth. “Mama is vorking verry hard,” Mina whispered and ran out of the room.

Rita struggled upward and groaned. It couldn't be noon yet, but then she remembered this was a ranch, and it was doubtful if anyone here slept much beyond sunrise. She splashed water on her face missing the tub filled with warm water and the soft towels Teresa would have laid out for her. This would be a far more primitive way to live. She dressed rapidly in the shortened work shift and ran outside to relieve herself, noting that Mama was busy with laundry.

The morning was sheer torture; the work brutal. There was little time to talk, but while they were wringing out the men's trousers, Rita asked, “How do you stand it?”

Anna's face was blank, sweat rolling down from her forehead even in the coolness of fall. “Stand vhat?”

“The work, for one thing.”

Anna tossed the pair of trousers into the basket and took the last one. “It's there, ja? There's more now with Daniel here, and Mr. MacDonald vants to hire the vashing done, but I von't let him.” She did not say and with you here there will be more work.

Rita clamped her lips as Mina appeared. It wasn't until Mina was down for a nap, and they were working on supper that she was able to suggest, “Mama, if Mr. MacDonald will not pay for a washerwoman, I'll gladly do so.”

Anna whirled on her daughter. “Du vill not speak so. It is my decision. Ve need the money for other things, and I'll not have that loafer of a man following Consuela here!” She spun back to the potatoes she was peeling, her shoulders straight and rigid.

Rita was busy with floured hands shaping the rolls and lining them up in the pan. She tried again. “Mama, all I meant to say was that I found it difficult to believe that man was the one who wanted to have someone else do the washing.”

Anna whirled again, pointing the knife at Rita. “Du do not call my husband 'that man' in this house. Do not make me choose between du and him.” Her grey eyes were as cold and flinty as Rita had ever seen them.

Rita reddened and looked down. “Sorry, Mama,” she murmured and went back to the rolls. Clearly this conversation was going to wait until she had a better understanding of the situations in this household. Was Mama that desperate to keep a man? Of course, there was Mina to consider. She desperately needed to talk with Daniel.

She finally managed to corner him alone two days later. He was not helpful as Daniel had his own concerns upper most in his mind. “When does O'Neal say I can come back?”

“When we bring Lorenz with us, that's when.” She gritted the words through her teeth.

“You're going to break with your mother completely?”

Rita noted that Daniel did not think of her as his mother, but answered, “Of course not, she'll go with us: her and Mina.”

Daniel snorted at the improbability. “You're as nuts as they are.” He stomped off leaving Rita taking deep breaths as she walked back to the garden.

Talking with Lorenz didn't happen until they were on the way to Arles. The men weren't at the headquarters that long. They had been constantly out with the cattle, gathering small bunches and branding She had a letter started to Red about the coming cattle drive She felt it an insane scheme, but Mama brushed her objections away She had tried once more to broach the subject of leaving to Mama when they'd gone to visit Uncle Kasper and Tanta Gerde.

“Mama, aren't Mr. MacDonald's demands too much for you?”

Mama had gasped and looked back in the wagon to make sure Mina was still sleeping. “Nein, vhy such a question vould du ask? Vhat ve do is for love. Did those nuns fill you head with only bad things?”

Rita felt the pit of her stomach shrivel. Mama couldn't be one of “those women,” but how else was she to phrase this? “I just meant that Thalians are said to be, uh, unusually demanding.”

“Vhat does that mean?”

“I mean they treat going to bed with each other as a wonderful thing to do, time after time.” She ground the words out, embarrassment flaming her cheeks almost as red as her hair.

Anna regarded her older daughter and then watched the horses, guiding them skillfully. “I vas right. Those nuns filled your head with silliness.” She took a deep breath and tried to explain. “I did not have a mother to explain to me. I thought Mr. Lawrence's cold vays vere normal until I heard other married vomen talk. Some hate going to bed with their husbands, but the happiest are those that love their husbands. It is not just a chore or a vay to children have.”

Rita looked at her mother, her own eyes wide as Anna continued. “It is a vonderful vay to say 'I love you, but vhen you are so tired, then, ja, it can be hard. That is vhy Mr. MacDonald always helps me, and vants to hire someone to do the laundry.” Mina was stirring in the back of the wagon, and Anna finished with, “Ve talk more later.”

There had been no more time to talk. Mina was always underfoot, or they were busy, and then it was mealtime. On the trail to Arles, it was worse. Rita, like the men had ridden. She knew her mother would insist on driving the team and Mina was either with Anna, on MacDonald's lap, on Lorenz's lap, or even begging rides with her, and Anna was not inclined to discuss marriage within earshot of her sons. Lorenz was dumbfounded when she suggested he should not go through with the adoption.

“He's Papa,” Lorenz said and cold grey eyes looked at her. “Get it out of your mind. Whatever you were told about Thalians don't gibe with the way he's treated me.” He rode off.

The adoption, Rita found out, was another matter not to be discussed with Mama, and she resigned herself to waiting for her mother to admit how horrible her life was, and the bath waiting at the hotel filled her mind.

MacDonald, Lorenz, and Daniel emerged from the Arles Stable after paying Samuels for the board of six horses for two days. They, like Rita, were planning on a bath. The trip had been made in four and one half days, and the afternoon was free until court in the morning. Lorenz and Daniel almost collided with MacDonald when he stopped short, his body rigid. He handed his hat to Lorenz and shrugged out of his coat. “Hold these, laddie, and dinna interfere.”

He turned and walked in his ground-eating, rolling way towards a tall man standing besides the water trough and a blooded chestnut. His hands were curling and uncurling into fists. When he was within five feet, the man turned and stared at the approaching giant. The man raised his right hand and pointed his index finger.

MacDonald slowed, but not much. At four feet he stopped, took a deep breath, and his deep voice rumbled out, “Toma, I am Llewellyn, Maca of Don, and I challenge ye.”

Lorenz was hugging the coat and hat to his chest. He had ignored MacDonald's command and thrown up a mind block against his sire. His mouth pulled tight and he was staring at the scene with an intensity that Daniel could sense. Suddenly Lorenz relaxed. “Stay out,” rang in his mind. He had done what he wanted; distracted Toma. Toma was staring at him and Daniel, his mind diverted from controlling Papa's. The pain of fighting would keep Toma from controlling Papa.

Daniel was more relaxed, but his right hand was resting on his right gun butt. How had their father known to be here today or was it coincidence? Either way the fight should be a good one.

The two men were circling each other, evaluating the strengths, physical and mental, when MacDonald's left fist lashed out. Toma whirled away, but he misgauged his opponent's speed as MacDonald's right fist caught him along his right cheek. Toma threw up a mind block and used his mind to control his body movements. He swung upward into the belly area, his hand rigid, fingers cupped, aiming toward the one soft spot to disable the Thalian. When that failed, he swung hard, into the face and blood flowed from the side of MacDonald's mouth. Toma's next moves were whirls and kicks, mixed with blows that landed.

MacDonald had his own mind block in place and retaliated with blows of his own, intent on wearing down the man with his greater bulk. He wanted to inflict pain: pain that would keep the Justine's mind busy and out of his own. Suddenly his early training from his elder and the practice sessions with Lorenz returned, and he was using his fists, elbows, and knees against the enemy in front of him, hearing the blows land and then closing in and bearing the man crashing to the ground where he continued to pound away until the man was unconscious. He stood, his breath heaving in and out of the massive chest, and walked to the water trough. He submerged his head and hands, letting the cold water revive and cool him. When he raised his head, he stood there inhaling and exhaling while water ran down his face and back. He felt Lorenz beside him and looked down.

“He hurt me. I dinna expect that.” He took the hat and used one hand to smooth back his hair and set the hat on at a jaunty angle. Then he put on the extended coat against the October chill and the icy water. The blood had turned pink as it mixed with water and the bleeding slowed. “Get me Zark. I must speak to Toma alone.”

He didn't wait to see Lorenz enter the stable. He walked back to the prone figure, lifted the man, and slung him across the saddle. There was no rope on this gentlemen's saddle, and he led the horse back to the front of the stable doors. The small crowd that had gathered was milling into groups of two or three and gradually finding other interests.

When Lorenz appeared leading Zark, MacDonald took the rope from his saddle and used it to tie Toma by roping the hands dangling on one side to the feet on the other, and securing the rope to the saddle horn. He turned to Lorenz. “Tell yere mither I shall be there within the hour.” MacDonald's r's were rolling more than usual in his words. He swung himself up and looked down, a tight smile on his lips. “We are going but a short distance, and the talk twill nay be long. She tis to have the tub for the bath ordered when I return.” He clucked at Zark and headed out of town away from any houses.

Once he passed the Quincy household, he went another quarter of a mile and dismounted. By this time, Toma was stirring and MacDonald loosened the rope, pulled the man down to the ground, propped him into a sitting position against an outcrop of rock, and handed him the reins to the chestnut. He then squatted on his hunches and said, “Ye are to leave now. If ye come back and bother me and mine, I twill kill ye. Anna tis my counselor, and Lorenz tis my laddie.”

He ignored the hate in the man's copper eyes and gold encircled pupils and mounted Zark. He did not bother to look back as he rode off to meet the approaching horseman.

Marshal Franklin pulled heavily on his reins as they came abreast. The marshal's face was florid as he made his accusation. “Y'all are hell-bent on disturbing my days. Where's that man going?”

“Mayhap to the next town or to Mexico. I dinna ask his destination. Nay did I kill him, this time.”

Franklin sat back on his horse. “MacDonald, one of these times y'all are going to cross the line and I'll have to arrest y'all.”

MacDonald grinned. “I shall consider myself warned.”

Rita strode from the house. She was dressed in a low cut gown of cream dotted with green flowers, short sleeves, and an unusually tight bodice. Mama was busy sewing, Mina napping, and Lorenz and Daniel off with Martin branding cows again. The afternoon was quiet, and she knew MacDonald was adding to the corral fencing. This time she would succeed in extracting Mama, Mina, and the boys from the clutches of the Thalian. October had changed into an Indian summer and the warm air and bright sun outlined every stone, blade of brown grass, and building in bold light. She smiled to herself as she loosened the top button of the tight bodice. She knew she was beautiful and her figure good. Men stared at her, Rolfe openly gaping when he first met her. Martin had been so tongue tied and red-faced, Lorenz started to laugh.

MacDonald was shirtless; his arms bulging as he drove the posthole digger up and down in the tough prairie sod. Perspiration soaked his summer underwear plastering it against his chest. He looked up as Rita approached, his eyes narrowing as he watched her continue to finger and loosen the buttons on her bodice.

“I have a proposal,” Rita began, a smile curving her lips as she looked upward at the man.

“I twould call it a proposition if ye open one more of those buttons.”

Rita's face flamed, but she kept her voice low and husky, and continued to look directly into his eyes. “If you relinquish your hold on Mama and Lorenz, I will go with you.” For some reason her lower limbs trembled, and she could feel nerves working in her groin and stomach. She set her teeth. What was the matter with her?

MacDonald's face was as set as hers. “Ye are Counselor's lassie, and I am mither's Counselor. Remember that. If ye loosen one more of those buttons, or say one more thing, I twill pick ye up and carry ye to yere mither's side, and she may deal with ye.”

Rita stared at him. The man was serious. Was the book she'd read truly so flawed? “How can you, a Thalian, resist when I am so young?”

He stuck the digger down and folded his arms across his chest. “Mayhap, if ye twere honest with yereself, ye twould ken ye twere told lies, and ye are suggesting this for yere benefit and nay yere mither's. Yere mither tis decades younger than I, and what ye just proposed tis as abhorred in my land as incest tis here.”

Rita began buttoning the bodice and stared at him, her eyes wide. “Are you going to discuss this with Mama?”

“Oh, aye, when I return to the house. I suggest ye discuss it with her now.” He picked up the posthole digger and began slamming it into the earth with renewed effort.

Rita stumbled backward for a couple of steps and turned to return to the house. What had possessed her? What had she missed about the way MacDonald regarded her mother? She wished Red had never shown her the reading materials he had acquired from his trading activities. How could a society so advanced be so wrong? And now what did she say to Mama? Her steps began to lag. Damn MacDonald. He had made her feel like a twelve-year-old child again. At the back door she hesitated a moment. The treadle on the sewing machine produced a steady whirring sound. She entered the kitchen and drank from the ladle in the water bucket.

A quick glance in the mirror above the basin revealed her face had cooled to a slight pink. Her bodice was properly buttoned again and she took a deep breath. The empty, sinking feeling in her middle, however, would not go away.

Anna was busy sewing a new flannel shirt for Lorenz's birthday present when she felt her daughter standing beside her. She stopped the treadle long enough to look up and smile. The look on Rita's face stopped the smile and in German she asked, “What is wrong?”

Rita looked at her in wonderment. Like Lorenz, she had easily picked up her first language. “How did you know?” Her words were in Deutsch.

“It is the same look you would have when you did wrong as a little girl. How could I not know?”

Rita brought one of the dining chairs over and sat down. “Mama, I—I know how you must be suffering from Mr. MacDonald's constant attentions.”

“Margareatha, what are you talking about?”

Rita was perplexed. How could her mother keep denying that she was being used over and over? Rita tried again, but gently. “Mama, I sleep in the room directly across from yours and I—I don't mean to hear, but sometimes I can't help it. I know how frequently he bothers you, and how tired you must be, and humiliated.”

Anna closed her eyes for a moment and thought. “Bah!” she exclaimed. “It was the teaching from those nuns, ja? They are the ones that gave you such ideas. God made man and woman for each other. That's why we marry. Women who are honest don't make such statements as yours. Poor Gerde and Kasper can't have what Mr. MacDonald and I have. If she gets pregnant again, she will die. Yes, it can make me tired, but that is why Mr. MacDonald has always helped so much.” She stopped at a loss for words.

Rita was staring at her dumbfounded, and Anna tried again, this time in English. “I never thought to say anything because ve vere split up before du became a woman. I just assumed du vould know things at your age.” Anna's own face was growing pinker. “I vas afraid that your being around Mr. O'Neal like that meant du had, had” she paused, “committed indiscretions.”

“Mama!” Rita was horrified. “I've never done anything like that.” It was her turn to pause. “Except just now, I've made a fool out of myself and ruined everything.” She began to rock back and forth on the seat trying to think of a way to tell Anna. Anna reached over and gently patted her hand.

“Rita, vhat are du talking about?”

“I just offered to go with Mr. MacDonald if he left you and Lorenz.” She blurted it out.

Anna came out of the chair in one fluid motion, her hand sweeping backward. “How dare du! He ist my man.” Anger lent swiftness and surety in her motions and her voice. Her hand descended as rapidly as she raised it and landed with a crack.

Rita rose as rapidly as her mother and stared down at her. She found herself staring into eyes that had gone a flat, grey, icy cold. There was no fear of her daughter's youth or greater height in her eyes. My God, thought Rita, Lorenz is like her.

“I told du not to make me choose between Mr. MacDonald and du. Vhy did du force this on me?”

“Mama, I'm sorry.” Suddenly Rita was a little girl again, trying to placate her mother's anger. “I don't want him. I thought I was helping you, protecting you.”

“And did du to Mr. MacDonald apologize?”

Once again Rita was opened mouth. “No,” she whispered.

“Then du must do so. He vill decide if du stay, and I vill pray for God to forgive me my anger.”