Brides of Arizona, page 9
“I think Emily has the meal almost ready,” Fayth said. “I’ll check and be right back.”
Conlon pulled a chair alongside Glorianna’s and sat down. He wanted to take her hand in his, but refrained. The green dress she wore brought out the green in her eyes and accented the burnished copper of her hair. He longed to touch her again.
“Lieutenant Sullivan?” Captain Wilton pulled his attention from Glorianna. “Do you remember the Dentons?”
Conlon frowned at Timothy, whose face split in a huge grin. “I remember them,” he admitted reluctantly. He thought of Major Denton and his overbearing wife, who had been determined that Conlon would marry their only daughter, Chastity. The woman followed him wherever she could, her loathsome daughter trailing behind. He hadn’t had a moment’s peace while they were at the camp, and he didn’t want to repeat the experience. For Captain Wilton’s sake, he had been polite, but he didn’t know how he had managed.
Captain Wilton interrupted his reverie. “The Dentons are traveling back to Tucson from up north. They will be staying here for a few weeks. I gather Mrs. Denton wants a rest. Also, the major and I need to discuss troop movements and some of the problems with Indians in the area.”
“They’re staying here?” Conlon glanced at Glorianna. Could Josiah have been right? Was disaster, in the form of Chastity Denton, right around the corner?
Chapter 11
The early morning air caressed her cheek with chilled fingers. Glorianna took a deep breath, savoring the fresh scent of rain-washed earth. The predawn darkness faded, preparing for another gorgeous sunrise.
Glorianna padded out of the fort in eager anticipation of another morning visit with Conlon. Every time they met, she found something else to admire about him. Today she wanted to ask him about his family. He always hedged around that question, but for some reason she couldn’t let it drop.
Conlon sat with his back to her, head bowed. She hesitated, wondering if he was praying. Most mornings he spent time with the Lord. Maybe she should leave him alone. She considered this, then with a shake of her head, she wound through the desert plants toward their rock.
As she drew near, Conlon stood and turned to her. “Good morning, Glory.” His mischievous smile set her pulse racing. Blue eyes, brighter than daybreak, held her gaze. She longed to reach up and touch his cheek, to run her fingers through his disobedient hair.
“And how do you know this is a good morning?” She smiled, enjoying his teasing.
“Every day the Lord makes is a good one. You should know that by now.” The intense look in his eyes took her breath away. “Besides,” he continued, softly, “if the morning starts with seeing you, it has to be good.”
The heat of a blush stole up her cheeks, and she thought for a moment about returning to the safety of her home. Could she trust herself around this charming man who brought out the best and worst in her?
As if reading her thoughts, Conlon gestured to their rock. “Come on and sit. The show’s about to begin.”
She relaxed and settled herself on the rock, trying to ignore the tingle that shot through her as his arm brushed against hers. This should be a bigger rock, she thought. But there weren’t any other rocks big enough to sit on. She leaned away from him, fighting an inner urge to rest her head on his shoulder.
They watched the changing sky in awed silence. Brilliant colors swept across the gray panorama like a wave washing up on the beach, reaching out with all its might, then slowly ebbing back to the ocean.
Conlon took her hand in his. Her small fingers felt at home engulfed by his large ones. The silence wrapped around them like a familiar cloak, comfortable and warm. Oh, how she wanted to know this man better.
“Conlon?” She tried to keep from getting lost in his morning glory gaze. She wanted to remember her objective. “You know so much about me and my family. Why won’t you ever tell me about your family and where you come from?”
A look of pain flitted across his face. It happened so fast, she wondered if she had imagined it. He released her hand and bent to scoop up a handful of rocks. He toyed with them as she tried to be patient.
After what seemed an eternity, he looked at her, his expression almost grim. “For years, I never talked about my family and my past. Finally, I did tell Josiah, but only because I had to talk to someone. He’s been my friend and encourager in the Lord. He got me through some pretty bad times.”
Glorianna swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry as dust. Did she really want to know his past? What if he had done something terrible? Could she forgive him? “If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.” She wanted to grab the words back as soon as they popped out of her mouth. She knew a friend should always be willing to listen.
“No. Josiah tells me it helps to talk about the past, and he’s usually right.”
He rolled one of the small pebbles between his fingers, then tossed it at a nearby cactus. The plunk of the rock startled a jackrabbit. The rabbit hopped off, his oversized back legs propelling him forward.
“I grew up in a small town near Chicago. I’m the oldest. I had two younger sisters and a younger brother.” He paused to throw another rock. “My parents owned a small dairy herd and supplied milk to the town.”
He stopped, staring at the gradually lightening sky. Sighing, he looked down at her and smiled sadly. “You’ll have to excuse me. I’m not very good at talking about my past. It’s hard.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
“I always helped Dad with the milk route. We worked hard, but that didn’t bother me.”
Conlon studied his hands as he spoke. “As a teenager, I looked forward to Sundays. We finished our work early, then went to church. But …,” he shook his head slowly and sighed, “I loved going to church for all the wrong reasons. I liked seeing my friends and being sought after by the girls. I was always the center of attention. The girls and I flirted constantly. To me that was the sole reason for going to church. I never thought about the Lord back then. I was too full of myself.”
Conlon’s shoulders sagged, and Glorianna found herself wanting to wrap him in her arms. She wanted to take away the pain of his past and help him heal.
“I’ve always had a problem with patience or, I should say, a lack of patience. One Sunday, we were running late on our milk run. My dad was sick, and I had to do most of the work. We barely got home, and he collapsed in bed. All I could think about was getting ready for church. Suzanne, one of the cutest girls in town, had promised to sit with me that morning, and I didn’t want to miss such an opportunity.”
A rock arced out and thudded against another unlucky cactus. “I didn’t even help Mom get Dad in bed. All I could think about was me, me, me. Usually, Dad and I got the horse hitched to the wagon so Mom and the girls could ride into town. That morning, my sisters were fighting, so they weren’t ready yet. My brother, the youngest of the family, wasn’t ready, either. Mom called after me, but I acted like I didn’t hear her. I jumped on my horse and left for church, soothing my conscience by saying church was more important than family. Besides, I tried to tell myself that my brother, Andy, could get the horse hitched up just fine.”
He tossed the rest of the rocks on the ground and wiped his hands on his pants. “I knew better than to do that. We had a new horse, fresh broke and feisty. Andy didn’t have much experience with horses yet. He’d been sickly from the time he was born. Small and frail. He couldn’t do the same work I had done at his age. I didn’t take that into account. Didn’t want to. I only wanted to get to church before someone else claimed my seat beside Suzanne.”
He sat in silence for so long, Glorianna didn’t think he would finish his story. His shoulders slumped, and the glimpse she had of his blue eyes made her realize they threatened to overflow. Her heart ached for him.
Gently, she placed her hand on his arm. She could feel the muscles knotted beneath his shirt. He looked down at her, and she tried to give him a comforting smile, hoping to relieve his obvious distress.
“We all do things we regret,” she spoke up softly. “Especially when we’re young and self-centered. Believe me, everyone goes through that at some time.” Her words, meant to comfort, had the opposite reaction. His eyes darkened in anger, whether directed at her or himself she didn’t know. She fought the urge to back away from him, keeping her hand on his arm.
“You don’t understand,” he exploded. Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths as if trying to calm himself before he continued. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get angry.” He gave her another sad smile that tore at her heart. “Let me finish, and then maybe you’ll see what I mean.”
Once more his hand enveloped hers, this time with a feeling of desperation. “We were halfway through the church service when one of our neighbors burst through the door shouting for Doc Riley. I’d been fighting a growing fear and guilt because my family hadn’t shown up yet. I knew how much going to church meant to my mother.”
He paused and Glorianna spoke up. “Your father was seriously ill, wasn’t he?”
“No, it was Andy who needed the doctor.” Conlon cleared his throat. “Andy tried to get the new horse hitched to the wagon. The horse must have sensed his fear and inexperience and began to act up. Andy wanted to please Dad and Mom, I’m sure, so he continued trying. Finally, I guess the horse had enough. He reared up, throwing Andy to the ground. When the horse came down, his hoof hit Andy in the head.” Conlon choked and couldn’t continue. A solitary tear rolled down his cheek.
Glorianna could feel tears flowing down her cheeks, as well. She gripped Conlon’s hand tightly, trying to ease his pain from these horrible memories. “Did Andy …?” She didn’t know how to ask the question.
“He died two days later.” Conlon raked his fingers through his hair. “My oldest sister had started out to help him. She saw what happened, but couldn’t get there in time. My dad recovered from his illness, but never from his grief. Even Mom, with her strong faith, had a sadness about her that I couldn’t take. I blamed it on my selfishness and impatience.”
“Is that why you left home?”
He nodded. “I know they didn’t really blame me or if they did, they forgave me. Still, I couldn’t live with the blame I put on myself. I ran. Like a coward, I ran and haven’t been home since.”
“You mean you haven’t heard from your parents since you left home?” Glorianna couldn’t keep the astonishment from her voice.
Conlon looked at her and shook his head. “For years, they had no idea where I was, so they couldn’t write to me.”
“Have you thought about writing them now?”
He smiled and squeezed her hand. “When I came here I was angry and confused. Josiah stepped in and helped me find my way to the Lord. Now, I don’t attend church because there isn’t one, but I have a relationship with the Lord that gives me peace about the past. I wrote to my parents. I apologized for everything that happened and told them where I am and what I’m doing. That was several months ago, and I still haven’t heard from them.”
“Maybe they’ve moved. Sometimes letters take awhile to reach people.”
“Maybe.” He sighed. “Then again, they may just want to forget me.”
The sound of a trumpet drifted through the morning air. “I guess that’s my call to get back inside. Thanks for listening.”
Conlon stood, and she let him pull her to her feet. “Thanks for telling me. I know how hard that was for you.”
For a long minute, he stood looking down into her eyes. Her heart began to pound, and she wondered if he would kiss her. She wondered if she would let him. Then, he leaned over and kissed her lightly on the forehead before tucking her arm in his and heading to the camp.
Josiah gave a final blow to the horseshoe on the anvil, then looked at Conlon, his eyes dancing with merriment. “Why the long face this morning, my friend? Are the wedding plans on hold?”
Conlon shrugged. “They’re right on target, I think.”
Josiah wiped his hands on his blacksmith apron and studied Conlon for a moment. “Something’s wrong,” he stated. “You haven’t looked this bad since before you asked Jesus into your heart. What happened?”
“I don’t know how you do it.” Conlon grinned, feeling a peace settling over him. Talking about his past always hurt. He didn’t know why being with Josiah helped him so much. “I think God must tell you exactly what I’m thinking and feeling.”
Josiah laughed. “Well, someone has to tell me because you sure won’t unless I make you.”
“I talked to Glorianna this morning.” Conlon leaned against the side of the blacksmith shop and watched for Josiah’s reaction.
“I thought you talked to her every morning.”
“I mean, I talked to her about my family.”
Josiah straightened up from throwing wood into the forge. “And?”
“You know, I didn’t want to tell her, but now I’m glad I did. She really seemed to understand. She didn’t condemn me like I might have done in her place. She’s very concerned about my being in touch with my family.”
“I knew that girl had something special.” Josiah’s grin lit up his face. He laughed. “You’d better get her to marry you quick or some other lucky man will get her first.”
“Not a chance. I won’t let them get close.”
“By the way, I heard the captain’s looking for you. Maybe he wants to know when you’re setting the date.” Josiah laughed.
Conlon strode toward the captain’s office. With every passing minute, he felt better about having talked to Glorianna. He hadn’t wanted to hold anything back from her, and now he knew nothing stood between them. Perhaps Josiah spoke the truth. He should talk to the captain and his daughter about a wedding. He smiled as he thought of finally being able to hold Glory in his arms without letting her go.
He stepped into the captain’s office and stood at attention, waiting for him to look up from the papers on his desk. The early morning sounds of the camp blurred into a drone through the thick walls. Finally, Captain Wilton looked up, his face set in a frown. Conlon felt a first prick of uncertainty. What did he want?
“Lieutenant.” Captain Wilton’s booming voice almost startled him. “I’m afraid we have a little problem. I received word that some Apaches are making trouble over toward Pinal City. They were last reported heading into the Superstition Mountains. I want you to take some men and check it out.”
Conlon stood frozen, wanting to protest, knowing it wouldn’t be wise. But I want to stay here with your daughter, he wanted to say. I don’t want to miss my morning talks with her. Despite all his protesting thoughts, he replied, “Yes, Sir.”
With a heavy heart, he spent the rest of the morning looking over maps and making plans with the captain. He tried hard to forget his red-haired beauty and the Sonoran sunrise they loved to share.
Chapter 12
Conlon leaned back against his saddle, his long frame stretched close to the campfire. Millions of stars paraded across the dark sky like tiny twinkling fireflies. The sounds of the desert descended upon him, the high-pitched yips of a pack of coyotes cut short by the unearthly scream of a cougar. Good thing he had posted guards around the camp.
He rolled to his side and stared at the fire. For two weeks, he and his small troop of men had searched the Superstition Mountains for the band of Apaches reported to be terrorizing the countryside. Each moment of the two weeks had been sheer torture. Every day he thought only of getting back to Glorianna, seeing her bright smile, and talking with her in the mornings. How he longed to run his fingers over her smooth cheeks. He wanted to watch the rose blush travel over her apple blossom complexion like the sunrise traveled across the sky. Glorianna. How he missed her.
He knew the men thought him totally inept. He kept running them in circles, forgetting the direction from which they had come. Thank God, Timothy had been assigned to the group. Without his encouragement, Conlon would have given up days ago. Timothy understood how hard leading could be when you had a woman on your mind.
Another week, he thought. I’ll give this scouting expedition one more week. If we don’t see more than some old tracks, we’ll head back to Camp MacDowell. There’s no need to wear ourselves out when the Indians have already moved on to other parts. They’re probably miles from here laughing at how easily they fooled us. We’ve never even gotten a glimpse of them. Of course, it doesn’t help when we don’t get word about them until they’ve had a week’s head start.
He shifted on his bedroll, hoping the hard ground would get softer. You’d think after two weeks I’d be used to sleeping on the ground. But, then, after two weeks I should be over thinking about Glory all the time, too. A sudden longing made him grit his teeth in frustration. He could almost feel his arms around her. He could see her rosebud mouth smiling up at him. How would it feel to press his lips to hers? To run his fingers through her silken hair? To hear her say, “I love you”? Smiling, he drifted off to sleep as the coyotes, once again, began their nightly chorus.
Morning dawned, bright and clear. Conlon hurried the men through their breakfast, determined they would find some sign or direction today. As soon as these Indians were controlled, he could return to Camp MacDowell and Glory. The very thought of seeing her made him smile.
Four hours later, hot and discouraged, his small troop rested in the shade of a side canyon. They had followed old hoof prints along the side of the canyon, hoping to find a place where the Indians had hidden. It turned out to be a dead end. The only way out was a steep cliff that a horse could never climb.
“Where to, Lieutenant?” Timothy crouched next to Conlon.
“I guess we’ll head toward the north end of the mountains. It’s closest to Pinal City, and we haven’t gone all the way around yet.”
Timothy squinted up at the sun. “I wish there weren’t so many places to hide in these mountains. You know, they come here because of that. They can disappear without a trace, wait for us to give up, then continue their raids whenever they want.”
