A Man with a Past by Mary Connealy
NINETEEN
Iwant to have one more look for the deeds. I was wondering if Grandpa might’ve stuck them inside a book. Maybe he had a thought to hiding them.” Cheyenne turned to leave the kitchen.
“Or maybe Pa did take them out of the drawer and hide them.”
Cheyenne glanced at Wyatt. “Why would he do that?”
Wyatt shrugged. “Like Falcon said, he’s just the only low-down coyote who spent time in the house.”
She looked around the kitchen. “Where is Falcon?”
“He might’ve gotten tired of listening to us squabble.” Wyatt shrugged and came after her as she headed for the study.
“Does he have a safe somewhere?” Win asked, following. “My pa has one.”
“It’s time to eat in just a few minutes,” Molly protested. “Your grandpa didn’t stick valuable papers between the pages of a book.”
Cheyenne looked over her shoulder at the hardworking young woman. For some reason, Molly bothered Cheyenne. Annoyed might be a better word.
She wasn’t sure why, but she had a sneaking suspicion it was because Molly was acting like a woman ought, and Cheyenne did no such thing. If that was so, then Cheyenne oughta be ashamed of herself. And she would be, just as soon as she had any spare time.
Cheyenne knew womanly skills. She could knit like nobody’s business, and she enjoyed it. There were blankets and doilies and what-not scattered all over this house. It helped untangle her thoughts. She oughta be knitting right now, but lately all her knitting had gotten tight. The last thing she tried to knit had ended up a hard, little square about a fourth the size it should’ve been.
Beyond knitting, she didn’t prefer work in the house when there was ropin’ and ridin’ to do. Didn’t mean she couldn’t cook. She could. Preferred not to, but she could.
Win was better than Cheyenne, and Molly was better than Win. They were eating well these days. Molly being part of this invasion of surprise family was the best part of it. Or the second best.
Meeting Falcon had been the best part. That . . . well, that wounded, gentle, good-looking, puppy-sharing Falcon. That was the best part.
Except he probably had a wife. Which meant she oughta tie him up and drag him behind her horse at a full gallop for a mile or two, over rocks and scrub pines. Then maybe back her horse over him.
Even so, he’d held her close enough to turn a girl’s head to mush.
Cheyenne shoved all that mushiness out of her head. She was not letting her thoughts go to him. She turned away from that annoying Molly and charged after that deed.
Cheyenne rushed down the hallway and into the front room, then she stopped so suddenly she almost fell over her feet. Wyatt, who’d been following, slammed into her from behind and knocked her forward a few steps.
Falcon and Kevin stood together, and both of ’em were looking at her so strange.
What had she interrupted?
Only one thing came to mind, but Falcon was a quiet man. He’d’ve never told Kevin about what happened between them in that cave or in here last night.
“Watch what you’re doing.” Wyatt bulled past her, heading for the shelves and shelves of books. His shove was enough to get her eyes off the two men and pay attention to what she was about.
The deed.
If these two didn’t care enough about a plot to steal a ranch that was one-third theirs to stay in the kitchen, then they didn’t deserve to hear what was going on.
She did sneak one long look at Falcon. She thought he looked pale. And there were lines that looked like pain around his eyes and bracketing his mouth. He’d been having those headaches again. Trying to remember. She wanted to ask him what had come to him. And she wanted to clobber him if he’d remembered a wife and six kids. Worse, if he’d remembered three wives and six kids.
But he needed to remember. That’s why he’d left the kitchen and come in here. And Kevin had found him and was worried about him. So was she.
Falcon’s eyes met hers.
Wyatt pulled a book off a shelf and fluttered through the pages. “Take the next shelf, Cheyenne. Win, the one on past. Kevin, get over here, we’re searching each and every book to see if the deeds are stuck in one of them.”
Cheyenne noticed Molly hesitating by the door.
“Should I set dinner back in the oven to stay warm?” Molly asked in a resigned voice.
“Sure,” Wyatt said without looking up from the book in his hands. “We’ll eat whenever we have time. You can just go back to the kitchen.”
Cheyenne glanced at Molly, who glared at Wyatt. Cheyenne hoped Molly didn’t kick Wyatt’s backside. Instead, she turned and left the room.
With one more look at Falcon, Cheyenne forced herself to quit worrying about him. Well, no. She didn’t quit worrying about him, but she quit looking at him and took her worry with her while she searched for Grandpa’s deeds.
“I’ll do a row of books,” said Kevin, “but I reckon it’s a waste of time.”
Wyatt fluttered through another book. “We’ve been through everything else, and we remembered the books and decided we should be thorough.”
Kevin patted Falcon on the shoulder. “You should sit back down. You’re not all the way well yet.”
Falcon nodded, rubbed his temple, and looked around the room.
Cheyenne saw him glance in the back corner like he wished he could get as far away from them as possible.
Instead of standing in the corner, he picked a soft chair that sat to one side of the fireplace, which wasn’t lit.
When he sat, he looked almost like he was collapsing. She wanted to go to him. Scold him for not stopping with his efforts to find his memories.
But she had books to go through.
She worked quickly, thumbing through book after book. On her second shelf, she pulled out a book, and a leather packet came with it, dropping to the floor.
The top was a flap that was tied down with a leather string twisted around a flat brass button. She untwisted it, flipped it open, and pulled a stack of papers out that looked older than anything she’d found before.
The paper on top was a record of a land purchase. Not the mountain but the land the house was built on.
“Wyatt, everyone, I think I’ve found something.”
Win left her neat stacks of books behind. Kevin came up beside her. Wyatt was next. She divided the thick sheaf of papers between the four of them.
“The top one’s a deed for the house. The second one is about some cattle Grandpa bought dated about the time he settled out here. Let’s go through it all.”
Unable to control herself, she went and sat on the settee that faced the fireplace. Falcon had slumped low in his chair, and his head rested against the top of his wingback chair. Another chair, matching Falcon’s, sat straight across from him. The matching dark green settee sat between them.
Everyone was busy carefully studying the papers she’d found. She’d wondered if Falcon was asleep, but he slowly sat forward, rubbing his right temple, and spoke so quietly she didn’t think anyone could hear him but her. “I remembered just a bit more, Cheyenne. Patsy was my wife. I know that for sure.” His eyes, such a perfect match for Wyatt’s, met hers.
Her stomach twisting with anger, Cheyenne asked, “A wife you left behind, just like the Sidewinder left your own ma?”
The roomful of people, already quiet after Cheyenne handed out papers to sort through, went silent.
“You abandoned a wife to come out here?” Wyatt’s hazel eyes flashed with anger.
“I don’t know much else,” Falcon said. “I don’t blame you for being suspicious, but the feeling attached to remembering her . . . it’s solid and good. I don’t want to believe I left her behind. The land wouldn’t have meant much to me. I don’t have a hankerin’ to be a rancher, ’lessen I did but I’ve forgotten it. But when I think of home, I feel no guilt for leaving her.”
“Any memories of your ma?” Cheyenne really just could not stand to talk about his wife anymore. Not when she could still feel the strength of his arms.
Little cracks were snapping across her heart to think how close she’d been held by a married man, how interested she was in him. She was tempted to go hunt up a puppy and hug it in a quest to feel better.
Shaking his head, Falcon said, “I don’t remember details, for certain not about Ma. I just think there wasn’t nothin’ back there for me anymore. I think that means no ma, no young’uns. No wife. No brothers or sisters. No family left. No one.”
Cheyenne nodded. But he could be sure things were over and done between them. Then she caught Kevin looking at her. His eyes immediately snapped back to the papers Cheyenne had handed him.
That had been a mighty strange look. What had these two been doing in here?
With a deep sigh, Cheyenne turned back to Falcon. “Well, you’re neck deep in family now, Falcon. You couldn’t be lonely if you wanted to. I think you’d gone off wandering that first day wanting no part of any of us, and after you lost your memory, you spent a week in the wilderness showing no sign of rushing back upstream to find where you’d come from.”
Falcon gave her a half smile. “I was planning to do that until I saw I was being followed.”
“By me.”
“I told you I watched you sleep, didn’t I?”
Cheyenne felt her neck heat up. It spread, and she was glad she had a deep tan to hide the blush. “I think you said something about getting close enough you could have touched me.”
“A woman I’d never seen before out wandering in the woods, good tracker, woods-savvy.”
Their gazes met. A silence stretched.
“I found it.” Wyatt whooped and waved a paper in the air.
For the first time in a while, Cheyenne had an appetite. “Bring it to the kitchen table.”
Wyatt nodded and headed out, paper in hand. Everyone followed after him. They were fast moving, eager to have a look at that deed, and to get more of Molly’s good cookin’.