Part 8 (2/2)

Tyler had the oddest feeling he was going to explode. Then just as odd, the feeling went away leaving him more relaxed than he had been at any time since he pulled Daisy from the burning house. He felt his arms tighten ever so slightly around her, and an odd kind of peacefulness came over him.

He found it hard to believe this was happening to him. Here he was in an isolated cabin on the backside of a mountain covered with ten feet of snow, sitting on a woman's bed, holding her in his arms while she cried her heart out. It was contrary to everything he'd ever done, everything he'd wanted to do.

Yet he was content to remain exactly where he was. A sense of comfort, of well-being flowed through him. It couldn't have come from Daisy. She still whimpered softly, sniffed occasionally. It couldn't have come from him. His entire equilibrium had been destroyed. Yet there it was. And G.o.d bless his soul, he was enjoying it.

Maybe he was going crazy. It happened to prospectors sometimes. People said it was all that solitude, their obsession with gold. You started liking your animals better than people. You liked talking to yourself better than to other folks. You found rocks and gnarled trees more beautiful than the ordered streets of towns and cities. You felt more comfortable in a rickety cabin than a well-furnished home.

He didn't think he had progressed that far, but everything in his life was out of kilter. Besides, it was well-known that crazy people insisted they weren't crazy, that it was everybody else who was behaving in a peculiar fas.h.i.+on.

Maybe that was a good sign. He was behaving oddly, and he knew it.

Daisy gave a rather loud sniff and pulled away. ”I'm better now,” she said.

”You sure?” He was reluctant to release her. Crazy felt pretty good. He wasn't sure he wanted to return to sanity. As he recalled, he'd been pretty miserable the last couple of days.

”Yes. It just gets to me sometimes. My father and I didn't get along very well, but that seems unimportant now.” She sniffed, wiped her eyes, and sat up. She didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable with his nearness. She seemed to take it for granted.

But Tyler could sense a difference in her sadness this time. She wasn't crying from shock, hurt, or pain, but from a deep sense of loss. ”This afternoon you cried for your father,” he said. ”You're crying for yourself now. Why?”

”You're wrong.”

”No, I'm not.” He'd only cried for himself once, but he remembered what it was like. He leaned back far enough from Daisy to look into her eyes. ”You didn't like your father, did you?”

”Of course I liked him.”

He pulled her close again. ”I hated my pa.”

”Why?” She pushed him away so she could look him in the eye.

”Because he was a cruel, vicious man. Now tell me why you disliked your father.”

Chapter Seven.

Daisy felt a lifetime of pretense collapse. For the first time, she felt able to face her feelings for her father squarely and honestly. She hadn't liked him at all. It was a great relief to finally feel free to admit it. She felt sadness but no guilt. He had deserved her dislike.

Daisy snuggled into the crook of his arm. ”Daddy was wonderful when I was a child, but when I grew up, he changed. I went from being his precious little girl to an over-grown frump who couldn't find a husband. I was to do what I was told, never argue or talk back. I didn't understand. The more I tried to stay close to him, the harder he pushed me away.

”It was worse after Mama died. If I expressed any opinion contrary to his, he told me I was stupid. If I argued with him, he shouted at me, complained about how ungrateful I was, threatened to beat me. I think that's why he gave me so many books to read. He didn't care if I learned anything just as long as I left him alone. After a while I stopped talking to him at all. I couldn't wait for him to go to his mines. It was the only time I felt free.

”But I wasn't free. I was stranded on that ranch twenty miles from anywhere. I only went to town when he got money from his investments. We would stay in a hotel until it ran out. That's how I met Adora. That's how I knew not everybody treated their daughter the way he did. That's when I started saving money to run away.”

”Where did you intend to go?”

”I don't know. It doesn't matter now. I'm sure my money burned in the fire.”

”I wouldn't give your father another thought. He wasn't worth it.”

”But I can't just forget he was killed.”

”What do you want to do?”

”Find out who killed him. But I don't know where to start. It doesn't make sense.”

”The killers could have been vagrants. Some people are just mean.”

But Tyler knew those men hadn't wandered up by accident. They came to kill. Their reason was so strong they followed Daisy to finish the job. ”Try not to think about it too much right now. When you're better--”

”I can't stop.”

”It won't bring your father back.”

”I know that, but I can't forget about it. What if it had been your father?”

What if it had? He couldn't walk away without finding out who had done it. Neither could his brothers. Even though they had hated their father, they would have felt a driving obsession to find the killers and even the score. They were not a forgiving family.

”I'd feel the same way you do. Probably more so.”

”Then you'll help me find who did it?”

Tyler stiffened. ”You need to talk to the U.S. Marshall in Albuquerque or the sheriff of Bernalillo County. I don't know a thing about looking for killers.”

”It probably wouldn't take long, not for a person as smart as you.”

Tyler was not about to let himself be lured into something like this by a few flattering words. Even if he had been willing, he didn't have the time. He had lost too many days because of the snow. He couldn't afford to lose any more.

”I know nothing about your father's affairs, your neighbors, the people in town.”

”You could learn. There aren't many people to consider, and I could tell you about everything you need to know.”

”Then you already know the name of the killer and why he did it.”

”You're not going to help me, are you?”

”I can't.”

”You mean you won't.”

”I mean I can't.”

It was obvious she didn't believe him. Tyler felt her pull away. That tiny movement made him feel self-conscious, made him aware of the compromising nature of where he was. He got to his feet. ”Try to get some sleep. It won't change anything, but it'll help you feel a little better.”

Daisy's scathing glance told him she didn't believe a word from a yellowbelly like him. Reality had returned with a bang, and it was just as miserable as he remembered.

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