The Texan's Dream by Jodi Thomas Page A

room.
    Kara’s imagination molded his words into images in her mind. “What happened?” she whispered.
    “I told him where to find me if he ever needed me. Even ripped the label off my saddlebag with my name burned into the leather along with the Catlin brand. But I knew I’d never hear from him. He told me he’d kill me if our paths crossed again. I have a sister I barely remember and a grandmother who died before I got to know her well. Quil was my only family. I tried to help him, but he wanted nothing from me. We’d been boys together, but now we were men in different worlds.”
    Jonathan looked out the window while his mind searched back in time. “I can’t undo what the Comanche did to my people or what the trappers did to Quil’s family. But, a few weeks ago when I was at Catlin Ranch, a message came from Fort Elliot.”
    “What did it say?” Kara was almost afraid to ask.
    “It didn’t say anything. It was only the label that I’d torn off, but I knew what it meant. Quil needed me.”
    “You’re headed there now?”
    Jonathan nodded. “I went through there on my way to Kansas City and now I’m headed back.”
    Kara frowned. “But why do you need me to go help? What can I do?”
    “You have black hair.” Jonathan’s answer was so short and simple it was almost a slip.
    “But…”
    “I saw Quil on my way up here. His wife had died in the corral the army calls a holding cell.”
    Tears bubbled in Kara’s eyes. “Oh. I’m so sorry. Is that why he called for you, to share in his grief?”
    “No,” Jonathan said slowly so that every word registered. “His wife died in childbirth.” His eyes stared into her very soul. “We’ll be making a stop on our way home. I was hoping you’d be going with me to see Quil. And you’ll be walking out of that corral with a baby in your arms. A baby with hair as black as yours.”
    Kara began shaking her head, but she couldn’t make her mind form the words. She knew nothing of the West, of Apache or forts or babies. But there was no doubt in her mind that what Catlin was asking of her was illegal. It made no sense to save the McWimberlys a bullet and let the army kill her.
    Jonathan moved beside her on the seat. “You have to,” he pleaded. “Quil told me once they begin the journey back to the reservation the men and women will be separated. He could never take a newborn with him. Even if he could get a woman to take care of the baby, he’d never be able to find them again. The odds are strong the child would die.”
    Jonathan stared at her with unreadable emotions smoldering in his eyes. “I know what I’m asking is illegal, but Wolf and I will be right beside you all the way. Once we’re back at the ranch, there will be others to take care of the baby. All you have to do is get from the fort to the train with the child in your arms.”
    “Can’t you find someone else?”
    “There’s no time, and if I ask anyone in Texas, there’s always the chance of someone finding out who the baby belongs to. No one knows you. They wouldn’t question you having a baby. Your fair skin and green eyes may be different but, if we’re careful, no one will see more than the baby’s black hair. Hair the same color as yours.”
    His face was so close she could feel his breath along her cheek. His fingers brushed a damp curl from her forehead. “If you want to back away, I understand. I’ll give you a month’s salary and you can keep the clothes. You can step off this train and say good-bye. There aren’t many who would do what I’m asking for an Apache child.”
    Kara remembered when she’d been tiny and her mother told of carrying her from doctor to doctor along the fringes of the slum where they’d lived. They were stopped three times at the office doors and told that the doctor inside didn’t have time to treat Irish children. “They never can pay,” one woman said, “and if one dies, there’ll just be another born come spring.”
    “I’ll do it,” Kara whispered.
    “Name your price.” Jonathan pulled his hand away.
    “No