Comanche Haven (The Loflin Legacy: Book 1) Page 9

  “It’s just like I remember,” she breathed. “Nothing’s changed.”

  Still leaning on his saddle horn, Seth watched her. She watched his eyes narrow as he rose to sit tall in the saddle. Slapping Sarge’s flank with his rein, Seth lead the way down the steep embankment.

  Had she been able to take back the words, she would have. She hadn’t intended to bring the strange expression to his face, but there it was nonetheless. The small voice inside her head said to let it go. But she couldn’t forget the look in his eyes as her words had registered.

  They neared the corral and one of the cowhands haled Ty.

  Brought out of her musings when Ty jerked his head in the cowhands’ direction and then looked back at her, Celia followed his lead. “Now, Celia, when you get all settled in, come on out to the corral and I’ll show you what I do around here,” he invited.

  Seth rolled his eyes and groaned which garnered Celia’s attention. “Don’t get him started on those horses, for God’s sake. It’s a well-known fact he would bunk with those animals he trains if Maggie didn’t put her foot down.”

  A wrinkle creased Celia’s brow. “Maggie’s still here?”

  “She’s still here,” Ty said with a grinning confirmation.

  His soft chuckle had Celia yearning to see the woman who’d been like a mother to her. Maggie McVey had brought Celia into the Loflin home and fused over her like she was her own. It was in her kitchen Celia had learned so much about the white man’s ways and customs. It was under Maggie’s tutelage she’d learned to speak English for the first time. So when the danger had become too great for her to remain, she had Maggie to thank for at least being able to communicate with those she came in contact with on her journey to South Carolina.

  Seth’s chuckle brought her back. “She’s still keeping us in line too,” he added dryly. “It’s a hard job. Harder for some than others.” Cocking a brow in Ty’s direction, Seth sent Celia a conspirator’s wink.

  “Awe, big brother, you know she just dotes on me.” Ty gave a wicked grin. “Now you know if the truth be told, I think you’re jealous.” Ty cocked a brow and peered curiously at his brother. Mimicking his brother’s expression for Celia, he added, “I can’t help it if I’m her favorite.” Ty finished his statement by sending her a mischievously brilliant grin coupled with his own conspirator’s wink.

  Seth snorted. “In your dreams maybe.” He let the jab drop for the time being and searched ahead for the lookout. It hadn’t escaped his attention Celia tried to hide her amusement with their good natured banter by dropping her head. Her dimples had appeared and Seth caught himself releasing a slow, steady breath. To see her smile meant she’d turned a corner in recovering.

  Dust swirled and danced along the road under the approaching horses’ hooves. The call went up from the tower, “Riders’ comin’.”

  Seth tipped his hat to the watchtower as they passed the guards and headed for home.

  ***

  Maggie was waiting on them. Her joy carried the faint lithe of Ireland as her voice danced on the fine April breeze.

  Celia watched as the housekeeper launched herself off the front porch and broke into a trot when they neared the ranch yard. It didn’t take long for Celia to slide from the horse and end up in Maggie’s ample embrace.

  “Oh, girl, it does this old heart good to see you again. Just look at you, pretty as a picture. Hold still so I can look at you.” Her face beamed with approval and love. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

  “Maggie, oh, Maggie, that’s not true, but you haven’t. I’m so glad to see you.” Celia’s tried to control the tremble in her voice and hugged the older woman with a great vigor. The warmth and devotion which was Maggie McVey wrapped around Celia like sunshine on a summer day.

  “Well now, you’ll be telling me exactly how Seth drug you away from your father and so soon after you’d just returned.” She hastily wiped tears away as she stepped back and garnered Seth’s hand, giving it a good pat. Tears trickled down her plump cheeks as she beamed for them both.

  Celia eased back as well. The pain of her ordeal came rushing back. She saw the woman’s expression shift into concern.

  Maggie’s eyes darted from her to Seth, who laid a gentle arm around Maggie’s shoulder.

  “Broken Horse and I were going to see my father, but…” She looked at Seth. With a silent plea for help, Celia dropped her head.

  “Maggie…” Seth gathered the older woman’s hands in his and carefully watched her face. With a voice gone firm and somber, he explained, “Celia’s gonna stay with us. Her people were attacked.”

  The frown grew in the center of Maggie’s forehead. Glancing from Seth to Celia and back, fear reared in Maggie’s eyes. “Are they…?”

  Seth nodded.

  “Oh, Celia…” The old housekeeper’s expression of sorrow and concern was heartfelt as she wrapped the younger woman in a warm embrace.

  Celia knew her old friend saw all she couldn’t hide, from the fatigue and dark smudges beneath her eyes. Maggie saw it all.

  Gathering Celia close, she hugged her, murmuring softly as she held her. Finally, taking Celia’s face in both her work worn hands, Maggie shifted into action with her next words. “Well now, you’ll come with me.” Maggie’s voice took on an authoritative tone. Celia could only smile. Recalling her first time in the Loflin household, she understood the woman’s change of subject. Time for morning was over. Life went on.

  “Celia, don’t you worry about a thing. Ol’ Maggie will take care of her girl.”

  Seth watched them go. He let the breath he’d been holding escape.

  “You know she’s in good hands, don’t cha?” Ty queried from his saddle as he tossed Seth Sarge’s reins.

  “Yeah, I know. And, yes, that’s a relief, little brother. I should be grateful.” He rubbed at his chest absently. “Still, there’s something brewing and it don’t feel right.” He sent Ty a frown as he mounted up. Leather creaked and hooves kicked up dust as the brothers headed for the barn and a talk with the men.

  Considering Celia’s safety was different from considering her well-being in the Loflin household. With Maggie’s care, she would be fine. A sense of relief swept over him as he thought about his mother. She’d died when he was ten and it had been Maggie McVey who’d stood between him and the world after that. Maggie had been the one, who’d protected him when his father wanted to dish out his own form of discipline. Those beatings would’ve been part of his daily life if it hadn’t been for Maggie. She had a fair hand and a kind heart and Seth knew without a doubt Celia would be safe. Seth headed for the barn and the discussion he had planned with his men.

  ***

  When it was just the two of them moving down the hall of the great house, Maggie spoke reassuringly to Celia. “We’ll get you settled with a bath and some food first thing.”

  Celia glanced around at the splendor of the elegant hallway. The rich colored wood of the hall’s walls held portrait after portrait of Loflins. Here was the white man’s tribute to family and several generations of determination and fortitude. Here was Seth’s foundation. Celia gazed at the faces on the wall and wondered about her own foundation. Her world had been altered forever. Did she have the strength to pick up the pieces and start over?

  “There’s no need for you to worry about a thing, child. First, we’ll get you a hot bath and then something to eat. Then you’re going to sleep – nothing like it for what ails you.” Patting Celia’s hand, Maggie continued to chatter as she led her down the long hallway, which divided the center of the house.

  They passed several doors along the way, which brought back memories and reminded Celia again of just how big the house was. Each dark Spanish door led to an inviting interior of lavishly appointed rooms. There was the library with its walls of old books and comfortable sofas. In a corner of the large room, a fire roared during the cold, winter months for a person to linger and enjoy. She had dreamed of one day being able to do more than scan th
e pages of the books on those shelves. Perhaps now, she’d have a chance.

  To the right, the huge double doors opened to the sounds and smells of the ranch kitchen. Celia remembered a vast room with cheerful whitewashed walls. Pots and pans hung from hooks and baskets of vegetables and herbs lined the interior. A large window boasted a marvelous view of the pastures, the well, and a vegetable garden Celia knew was Maggie’s pride and joy. Celia got a glimpse of the formal dining room as a young Mexican girl breezed through the swinging door with a covered tray. The crystal chandelier, which hung low over a long dark mahogany dining table gleamed in welcome. When the family dined at the table, each taper in the chandelier glowed brightly. Celia recalled peeking at the room on several occasions during her time with Maggie. There were far more chairs at the table than a young squaw had ever seen in her life. The meals around the table were something she’d only dreamed about. The booming voice of the Captain, Seth’s father came bellowing back at her as they passed the great doors and Celia had to shake herself. He was gone now. She had to remember that. She wasn’t a child any longer. Still his presence was everywhere and it unnerved her to realize he could still frighten her so. Celia blinked and missed a step as she recalled it had been three days since she’d had something other than hardtack and reheated biscuits to eat. Surely, her trepidation had something to do with being under the Loflin roof once more. She hoped the food came soon.

  About midway of the great hall stood a massive set of double doors Celia knew led to the landowner’s office. The room was off limits to all except those who had business with the Captain. She’d heard his voice erupt in harsh ridicule of a man, if he’d done wrong, or hearty conversation with a crony. There’d always been those times when his drunken yells and curses could be heard throughout the house. A chill teased her backbone.

  Her attention turned to the wonders of the next room Maggie and she entered.

  “Here now.” Maggie scurried about the room as she smoothed the coverlet on the bed and gathered up a warm, plush robe made of a fabric Celia didn’t recognize. The housekeeper handed it to her and directed her to the changing screen in the corner of the room. “Take your clothes off and put the robe on. It may be a bit big, but it will do until we can get you some things of your own.” She bustled about the room as she spoke. “I’ve got water coming for a bath and food on the way. You must be famished, my dear. How long has it been since you had a good rib-sticking meal?”

  “Awhile,” Celia’s voice trailed off as she turned a slow circle in the middle of the grand room. With the food and bath forgotten, Celia took in the lavish beauty surrounding her. The furnishings were so out of character with the rest of the house, Celia realized as she surveyed the feminine appointments. Clutching the garment in her hands, she pressed the soft fabric to her breasts and continued to stare at the room Maggie had led her into moments earlier.

  Delicate pink lace patterned wallpaper hung from the walls enveloping the room in a female cocoon. An intricately woven rug in pale hues covered the gleaming wood planks of a heart-of-pine floor. It was soft enough to sleep on, Celia mused. The four-poster bed was made of a dark mahogany wood and boasted a beautiful lace coverlet with mounds of fluffy crocheted pillows. Surely, Maggie was overstepped her authority in bringing her here. She couldn’t help herself as she walked over to the rich cream drapery of heavy brocade. Tentatively reaching out, she fingered first the material and then the silken tassels drawing them back from real Irish lace sheers. Raising her head, Celia followed the drapes path from their gilded rods near the ceiling all the way to the floor where they pooled in a wonderful puddle like butter at her feet. She fingered the folds of the luxurious material. “Whose room is this, Maggie?”

  “This was Seth’s maw’s room. She decorated it herself. It’s yours now.”

  Blinking, Celia found it hard to breath. Her legs felt wobbly and so she sat on a brocade-covered bench near the fireplace. Staring at the massive bed with a wonderful reed fan positioned overhead, Celia felt like a fly in a trap. The bed rose up on tall legs with a set of wooden steps situated at the bedside to assist a person in reaching the down filled mattress. The comfortable pillows nestled on the beautiful down comforter, practically beckoned a body to slip into the inviting comfort.

  “Seth was born in that bed. Someday I hope his children will be as well,” Maggie said, pointedly glancing in Celia’s direction.

  Stroking the fabric of the bench lightly while listening, she fought the urge to run. Tamping down the panic, Celia adjusted her position on the bench and attempted a change of subject. “Maggie, when did Seth’s father die?”

  The housekeeper looked up from folding the towels the house girl, Marisa, had brought in. Her forehead creased again. “It’s been about a year. Why do you ask?”

  “I wondered is all?” Celia shrugged. Old pangs of pain surfaced momentarily and gave Celia a few moments of uneasiness. The plan to see her spirited safely away had been executed so secretively even Maggie, her most reliable confidant, hadn’t been privy to the deed. Celia wagered Maggie would have raised the roof of the lovely old home had she known the actual reason for her disappearance all those years ago.

  Purposely turning her thoughts away from the memory, she thought of how Seth had brought her to dinner at the ranch on several occasions. His father, the Captain, had refused to dine with them during those meals. He said he wouldn’t eat with an Injun’. Celia, who even then was no stranger to the ridicule from others, had tried to enjoy her visits anyway. Jake and Maggie had made her feel welcome. Ty had been all of eleven at the time. He’d been more interested in racing through the kitchen and aiming his pistols at imaginary bandits than sitting down to a meal with ‘grownups’.

  It may have been the warm welcome or the way Maggie and the others made her feel at home. Celia wasn’t at all sure, but before she could take them back, she was admitting things to Maggie which the little voice inside her head told her she probably shouldn’t have. “I tried writing to Seth once I learned how, but I never got a reply.” Moving from the draperies to the vanity, Celia gently touched the hairbrush of polished silver. “Instead, only a couple of years back, my letters were bundled up in a box and sent back without even a note.”

  Maggie pursed her lips as she plumped the pillows on the massive bed. “I never knew you wrote, dear.” Her words were full of concern. “If I had, everyone from here to Tyler would’ve heard all your letters contained. Surely there was some mistake.” Watching Celia closely, Maggie tried to console her. “I’m so sorry, dear. Who would’ve done such a thing?”

  Celia shook her head. “I don’t know…” She looked up to see her reflection in the vanity’s leaded glass. The young woman looking back at her looked a trifle askew, to say the very least. On any other occasion, she would have found her appearance most appalling. But this wasn’t any other occasion. In fact, it seemed like a lifetime ago since she’d boarded the stage to Tyler. Looking for her family and those she remembered from so long ago seemed like nothing more than a dream now.

  “Do you think the Captain confiscated your letters and returned them to you?”

  Celia blinked and came back to the here and now. Maggie’s question was too close to what Celia had already determined was the truth of the matter. There was no secret among those who knew him how the Captain felt about Injuns’ under his roof or his son’s infatuation with one young squaw even if she was the daughter of a very formidable war chief. Perhaps Maggie had her suspicions after all. The knowing look she sent Celia said she knew more than Celia had believed. “It’s the only thing I can figure, Maggie. No one else would have returned them except Seth himself and he swears he never got them.”

  A soft knock on the bedroom door brought them both up short. Two young Indian boys entered with water for the hip tub in the far corner of the expansive room.

  “Let me help you out of those things.” Maggie took Celia’s hand and guided her over to the changing screen where she assisted Celia in r
emoving Seth’s coat, the man’s trousers and then the undergarments. “With a nice hot bath things will look better soon. I have some wonderful salve for those scrapes and bruises as well. Having artfully changed the subject, Maggie helped Celia into the tub and fretted over her patient.

  “The water feels wonderful. Thank you, Maggie.” Giving her a warm smile, Celia sank back into the tub and closed her eyes.

  Maggie brushed the hair from Celia’s forehead. “Everything will work out. You’ll see.”

  Chapter 4

  The Homecoming

  The hall was dark except for the occasional candle flickering in the bowls perched on either wall. Seth treaded the worn carpet with a sure foot. The old house held few mysteries for him. He soon found himself standing at the end of the long hall staring at the door across from his own. Bless the old woman’s heart. Maggie had put Celia in his mother’s room. Celia probably didn’t realize how closely she was closeted to him, or she would have balked at the idea of the impropriety. Seth grinned inwardly when he thought of the audacity of the housekeeper, but rather than question her lapse in social etiquette, he silently thanked Maggie for her small slip. Here, at least, Seth could keep an eye on Celia and be nearby if she needed him.

  Knocking gently on the door, he waited.

  From the interior, Seth made out a muffled voice. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Seth. May I come in?”

  “Come in.”

  As he entered, he noticed the room lit by one coal oil lamp. Reflections danced off the walls giving the room a warm, comfortable air. Waiting a beat until his eyes adjusted to the room’s meager light, Seth paused. A warm fire burned in the fireplace. The cool white of his mother’s vanity stood out in stark relief against the flicker of the fire’s flames and the dark legs of the great bed. He’d always felt a sense of his mother’s presence when he entered her private sanctuary, but this time he felt the unease of nerves.