Alone in the Wild(42)

Cypher settles in, grunting as he shifts his bulk. “I don’t have an aversion to such trade in general. If a woman’s willing, and it’s a clean transaction, well, I figure that’s better than going into a bar and ending up with a woman who drank more than you realized. These particular traders offer me a girl every time, and they get the sharp side of my tongue instead. One of the girls even asked me to take her away and marry her.”

He scratches his beard. “Shit. I didn’t know what to do. Ended up saying no, and then spent a whole lotta time feeling bad about it. It’s a complicated situation. I sure as hell don’t want some little girl who stays with me because I rescued her. I could take her to Dawson, but what then? Give her a few grand and abandon her? She’s never lived outside these woods.”

“If that ever happens again, bring her here,” Dalton says.

“It’s not that simple,” Cypher says. “It isn’t like those girls are tied to a wagon, beaten and bruised, and I’m trading with their daddy while pretending not to see them because I really need new underwear.”

I snort, and he arches his brows. “You think I’m kidding about the underwear, kitten? You try making them from deer hide. Going without ain’t an option. I tried that one summer. It was warm enough, but then you got the chafing and the hanging and—”

I hold up my hand. “I get the pict— Nope, sorry. I don’t get any picture at all.”

He chuckles. “Point is that those girls aren’t being held against their will. There’s three of them—sisters—and if I tried rescuing two of them, they’d scratch my damned eyes out. The third—the one who asked—wasn’t looking for rescue. She just figured I’d be a good provider. If I did walk her to Dawson, she’d turn around and find her way back to her family.” He waves at Dalton. “Like you did, when the Daltons brought you to Rockton.”

Dalton goes still. I stiffen, looking over. He says, very softly, “I tried to get back to my parents. To my family.”

“Exactly,” Cypher says, blithely missing Dalton’s body language. “You were better off here, but you still wanted to return to your folks out there.”

Dalton’s storm-gray eyes fix on Cypher. “Better off?”

Cypher waves away Dalton’s words—he’s ready to move on. I’m trying to decide what to do when I hear myself saying, “Why did you think that?”

Dalton’s gone still again, his nostrils flaring as if he’s struggling to breathe. I could withdraw the question. Maybe I should. I don’t.

“Why do you think Eric was better off in Rockton?” I press. “Was something wrong with him? Was he sick? Malnourished?”

“Nothing like that. I’m sure his folks were decent kids. But they were already leaving him to fend for himself. That ain’t right.”

“What?” Dalton says, his face screwing up.

“Your daddy—Gene Dalton—saw you a few times out there, all by yourself. Hunting and fishing. You told him your parents had gone off to trade, and you were old enough to look after yourself. They must have taken Jakey with them. Gone for weeks, they were, leaving you alone.”

“That … no, that never…” Dalton struggles for words. “That did not happen. Yes, I was old enough to go hunting or fishing. But for a morning or an afternoon. If my parents went trading, we all went. I never spoke to anyone from Rockton before Gene Dalton captured me.”

Cypher frowns. “Maybe you’ve forgotten. Anyway, I don’t know the details, and I might not have had much use for Gene Dalton, but your momma was a good woman. She wouldn’t have kept you if there wasn’t a problem with your folks. I wouldn’t have let them keep you either.”

There’s a set to Cypher’s jaw, one that says he’s not trying to convince Dalton; he’s trying to convince himself. He believed whatever tale Gene Dalton spun, and he cannot afford to second-guess now.

“Eric?” I say. “Maybe you want to take Abby home for a nap. You could check on Maryanne, too.”

His lips tighten, and my gut seizes. I shouldn’t have asked about his parents. I should have respected Dalton’s wishes and kept out of it until he was ready. When he sees my face, he squeezes my hand and leans over to whisper, “Nothing I didn’t already suspect.”

Before I can react, he says, “Let me take Abby and Storm for a walk. I should check on Maryanne. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

When Dalton’s gone, I say to Cypher, “May I ask you a favor?”

“Sure, kitten. What is it?”

“Don’t mention his family—either one, really. He has good memories of his birth parents, and what the Daltons did is confusing. I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but I’d be very happy if it didn’t arise in conversation again.”

He looks toward the door Dalton exited. “He’s upset.”

I could almost laugh at his genuine surprise. He really did miss the clues, even as they’d flashed neon-bright. I remember who I’m talking to and limit my response to, “He’s angry about what happened back then.”

Cypher looks at me. “You can say he’s upset, Casey. I’m not one of those assholes who’ll give a guy flak for showing a bit of emotion. If it bothers him, I won’t bring it up.”