Love's Bounty

by Rosanne Bittner

  “Chris, are you all right?”

  “I think so.”

  Their gazes held for a few quiet seconds.

  “You saved my life,” Callie told him then. “Those cattle could have trampled you to death.”

  He sighed and rested his forehead against hers. “You didn’t really think I’d ride off and let them turn you into part of the mud, did you?”

  “I don’t know. There wasn’t much time to think about anything.” Their faces remained close together. “You’re a fast-thinking man, Mr. Mercy.”

  Her lips were so close.

  “And you’re a brave little lady, Miss Hobbs.” He couldn’t resist the need to kiss her then, in spite of the pain of his bruises. He covered her mouth with his own, and she responded to the kiss, moving her arms to wrap them around his neck. The kiss grew deeper…and deeper, until he literally groaned with the want of her. That quick moment when he thought he might end up watching her die told him all he needed to know.

  “I love you, Callie,” he told her, leaving her mouth to whisper the words in her ear. “I’d die for you.”

  “Chris,” she answered in a husky whisper. “I love you too! You know I do. I’d die for you too. It makes me so happy to hear you say those words.”

  He found her mouth again, searching deeply, wanting to devour her. They heard voices then. Men were coming. He left her mouth again, kissing her eyes. “I have to get up. Are you hurt?”

  “I don’t even know for sure. You sure you’re not?”

  “I won’t know till I get up and walk around.”

  “I don’t want you to get up.”

  “I’d just as soon stay right here myself, believe me. You have no idea how hard this is.” He saw her grin by the light of more lightning.

  “I’m so happy, I could cry,” she told him. “But you gotta get up anyway. Your gun is poking my thigh something awful.”

  His gun? He’d thrown it aside when he tackled her to the ground. He stifled the urge to laugh. She literally had no idea what was poking her thigh, nor could she possibly understand the pain it was causing him at the moment. He was glad it was dark.

  He raised himself off her, realizing he’d done it now. There was no going back. He’d admitted his love for her yet again, while stone sober. He’d broken every promise he’d made to her and to himself and let this thing go too far too soon. He stood up and reached down to help her up.

  “Lordy! My ankle!” she cried out.

  Chris’s right calf ached fiercely, but he picked her up and carried her through the mud to the chuck wagon, which now lay on its side. “We’re going to find a damn mess in the morning,” he told her.

  Callie threw her arms around his shoulders, kissing his cheek, his neck. “I don’t care! If this is what it took to make you say again how much you love me, then it doesn’t matter.”

  Chris smiled, kneeling down to set her on the ground. “Not in front of the men,” he told her. “We’ll talk later. Right now we need to help Bailey clean up this mess and tomorrow we have to dry everything out and go round up the cattle. And I want to have a look at your ankle.”

  “Chris! That you?”

  Chris recognized Ben Bailey’s voice. “Yes, sir. It’s Callie and I both.”

  “Thank God! Jeff Harper, the man helping Callie keep watch, is dead. I was afraid we’d find Callie the same way!”

  “Chris shoved me down against my horse and laid over me,” Callie told Ben before Chris could reply. “He saved my life! But I’m afraid we had to shoot the calico, Mr. Bailey. She slipped and fell and was hurt. We had to use her to shield ourselves.”

  “Well, there’s not much we can do now till first light,” Bailey answered. When the sky lit up again, Chris could see the man wore a yellow slicker. “Either of you two hurt?”

  “Callie’s horse landed on her foot,” Chris answered. “Her ankle hurts pretty bad. I took a couple of hits, one in the back and one on my right thigh. I expect I’ll have some pretty good bruises, but I don’t think anything is broken.”

  “Good. Bill was hurt by a cattle horn. Sam’s gonna find a lantern and light it so he can pour some whiskey in the wound and wrap it. Should be enough light for you to take a look at Callie’s ankle. If you rummage through the chuck wagon, you should be able to find a few dry blankets up in the front part. Wrap her up in one. Yourself too. With those wet clothes on, you’ll take a chill in this wind. I managed to grab my slicker just in time, so I’m dry.” He turned his horse. “I’m going out to see if I can find a few of the cattle. One thing is sure. We’ll have our work cut out for us tomorrow, so try to get what rest you can. If we manage to round up the cattle, we should be able to make Medicine Bow in about three days. Then we can hole up in the hotel and sleep in nice dry beds.”

  The man rode off, and someone finally lit a lantern. The rain had already let up, and men milled around, lamenting about the storm, their soaked clothes, the lost cattle, and the death of one of their own. Chris touched Callie’s arm. “I’ll find some blankets and try to find another lantern. Maybe I can locate our supplies and dig out some dry clothes for both of us.”

  Callie grasped his hand. “Thank you, Chris, for what you did, and for…for what you said.”

  He couldn’t help smiling at how childlike and vulnerable she could be sometimes in spite of her tough, bold attitude. “Just be patient with me, Callie. I still have a lot of things to sort out.”

  “Yes, sir, I can be as patient as a coyote waiting for a mouse to come out of its hole.”

  Chris grinned as he stood up to go get the blankets. One of the other men called out to him then. “Hey, Chris, that remark the boss said about a hotel room…I know a better place to stay in Medicine Bow, and there is something there you can take to bed with you to keep you extra warm!”

  Some of the other men laughed.

  “A lot more welcome after a trail drive than just a lonely hotel room,” one of the others put in.

  “Shut up, you guys,” someone else put in. “There’s a lady present. Besides, this is no time for joking. Poor Jeff is layin’ out there dead. We’ve got to have a buryin’ come mornin’.”

  Everyone sobered, and when Chris started for the chuck wagon, Callie grabbed hold of his pant leg. “Chris!”

  He knelt down close to her again. “What is it?”

  “You won’t…I mean…you wouldn’t go to that place they were just talking about once we get to Medicine Bow, would you?”

  He leaned closer. “No,” he said softly. “Just don’t let the men hear you say things like that. I’m just supposed to be the man you hired, remember? I don’t want anybody thinking less of you. You’re too good for that.”

  “Promise me you won’t go there,” she whispered.

  He grasped her hand. “I promise.” He rose again and walked to the chuck wagon to see what he could find in the wreckage. For one quick, blinding moment he stopped at the memory of hearing Callie’s scream, again visited by the nightmare of wondering if Val or Patty had even been given the chance to scream the night they died. Even if they had, he would not have heard them. He wasn’t there.

  The sick feeling at the thought of it, the way he’d found them, again brought pain to his guts. What the hell had he done, telling Callie he loved her, giving her all that hope? What right did he have doing this, loving again, letting someone love him back? He walked around to the front of the chuck wagon and crawled inside to look for blankets. When he found one, he put his face into it and wept.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  The first three days after the stampede, Callie spent most of her time sitting in the chuck wagon with her left leg propped up because of a painful, swollen ankle. Chris spent that time riding far and wide with several of the other men, in search of scattered cattle. Callie had a feeling he purposely volunteered for the job to stay away from her, but that was okay.

  He loved her! That was all that mattered. She knew it before he said it, but he’d never said it the way he did the
night of the stampede. And now she knew that she loved him more than she’d even realized. She’d never been touched so gently in her life as when he’d pulled off her boots and dressed her ankle later that night, after the men tied ropes to the chuck wagon and got it back upright. She’d changed inside the wagon and slept in it the rest of the night, and she’d never slept better. She was so full of contentment and joy. Now she knew exactly what love was, and what it meant to have her toes curl.

  Chris had not said another word about love since then, nor had he even come close to talk to her. She tried not to let it worry her. After all, he’d asked her to be patient, and there was no doubt in her mind he’d been sincere that night. He just didn’t want the other men to think there was anything like that between them, and he still had things to think about, memories to deal with. She trusted that what they shared was strong enough now that he wouldn’t let those memories get in the way and stop him from being happy again.

  After those three days she was able to ride again. Four more days led them to Medicine Bow, and Callie rode in with the rest of the men, helping guide the cattle into the holding pens designated by the owner of the railway corrals. Most of what was left of the day by then was spent counting cattle and dickering with the buyer there, who represented a slaughter-house in Chicago, that big city to the east, one of those places familiar to Chris.

  Did he miss that city life? Would she fit in in a place like that? Hardly. Chris talked to the man awhile himself, and Callie’s exuberance at how much he loved her began to dwindle just a little when she reminded herself how different they were. Did men say and feel things when they were alone out in the kind of wild country they’d just come from…things they no longer felt once they reached civilization again? No, Chris wouldn’t go back on the things he’d said that night. They just had to get settled in someplace, decide when they’d leave on the Union Pacific for Salt Lake City, talk about how much they loved each other and what they would do after…

  Lordy! She didn’t want him to go after those last three men now. What if he got hurt? Or was killed! She couldn’t go on living if that happened. There was so much to talk about. She waited with the packhorses, watched some of the cowhands go up to Chris, talking and laughing. They pointed up the street, and when Callie looked in that direction, she saw more SALOON signs than anything else. She knew the men were filling Chris in on which saloons had the best whiskey, the best gaming tables…the best women…the kind who slept with men for money.

  Chris had promised he wouldn’t go see any women like that, but the way he carried on with the cowhands! Would he change his mind? Women like that didn’t ask for love or commitment. They just showed a man a good time. That was one thing she didn’t know how to do.

  It was already dusk when Chris left the rest of them and walked over to his horse. He rode up to where Callie waited. “Let’s go get you a room,” he told her.

  Her heart fell a little. He didn’t say anything about getting himself a room. Where did he intend to stay? What about that kiss the night of the stampede, his words of undying love? She was afraid to ask anything about it or about what he intended to do that night. When he asked her to be patient, he hadn’t said for how long, or just what degree of patience she would need.

  She followed him to the hotel, thinking what a crazy mess this trip had turned into. How strange that she’d fallen in love with the stranger who had brought three murderers to Rawlins for hanging; the man with an ornery attitude; the man who killed men or brought them in to hang…for money. She’d almost forgotten that Christian Mercy was a bounty hunter; almost forgotten how savage he could be when pushed into it; almost forgotten how angry he made her sometimes.

  Was he going to do that again? Was he planning to again become the cold, distant man afraid to love? She swallowed before speaking. “We need to talk about what we’ll do next,” she told him. “Are you going to find out when the next train comes through here headed for Salt Lake City?”

  “We’ll do that tomorrow.”

  We. Well, that was a start. “Fine. How’s your back and your leg?”

  “The leg is bruised pretty bad. I expect my back is too, but I can’t see it.” They rode up in front of the hotel, and Chris dismounted. He came over to help her down from her horse because of her sore ankle, and Callie felt a surge of desire at the feel of his strong hands around her waist. He didn’t lower her all the way to the ground at first. Instead, he held her so that her face was even with his. “Don’t ask, Callie. We’ll get you a room and you’ll go there without asking me a damn thing.”

  She frowned as he lowered her. What the heck did he mean? She wanted to scream at him that if he had a need, she’d gladly fill it, even if she wasn’t ready for that. She’d manage it if it meant he wouldn’t go to one of those loose women at the saloons. He wouldn’t really do that, would he? He’d promised he wouldn’t! But he’d had time to think about it, and there was that damn stubborn side of him that still didn’t want to care.

  She limped inside with him, and he ordered a room for her, asking that a tin tub be taken up to her room, and paying extra for someone to fill it with hot water for her so she could take a bath. He helped her up to her room then, looking around to make sure it was decent. The room was small, but the bed looked comfortable, and there was a dresser and a washstand, and rugs on the floor and a coat rack in the corner.

  “I’ll go get your things,” he told her.

  Don’t ask, she reminded herself; but she wanted to scream the question at him. Where are you staying tonight?

  He returned with her carpetbags. “I’ll go put up the horses and make sure our supplies are stored safely,” he told her. “You take a nice hot bath and relax. Enjoy a good night’s sleep in a real bed again. After tomorrow we’ll be riding a train for at least two days, which won’t be the most comfortable trip. Still, it will be a hell of a lot better than that stagecoach ride up from Rawlins.”

  Callie sat down on the bed. “Yes, sir, it surely will be,” she answered. “When should I expect you…in the morning?”

  He just stared at her a moment. “Let’s just say you won’t know when to expect me. Just get some sleep and don’t worry about what time you wake up.”

  Why! Was he going to lounge around in bed tomorrow morning with some painted lady? She looked away. “Fine.” Lordy, he was unpredictable and hard to figure. How could so much joy and contentment turn to such aching frustration?

  “Callie?”

  She met his gaze again, still unable to read him.

  “I love you. I wasn’t lying about that.”

  Hope cast a little light on her heart. Don’t ask, she warned herself. “I love you too, Chris Mercy. I love you high and wide as the mountains.”

  He grinned a little. “Get some rest.” He turned. “And keep this door locked.”

  He closed the door, and Callie could hear him going down the stairs. She wanted to beg him to stay, wanted to demand that he tell her where he was staying. But he’d said not to ask, and so she didn’t. Seemed like every time she’d blabbed at him before when he was in one of these moods, she’d made him mad, and that was the last thing she wanted to do now. Still, she wasn’t going to let him keep trouncing on her this way. If he intended to go to the saloons…

  Anger filled her aching soul, and she got up and limped over to a window, looking down into the street. Chris untied the horses and led them up the street toward the LIVERY sign. Beyond that was a bathhouse. He’d probably go there and get himself all handsome and cleaned up and smelling good for some whore. Her heart ached so, she thought it might burst, and tears filled her eyes.

  “I love you, Chris Mercy, but sometimes I hate you!”

  Frustrated, she angrily unpacked her bags and dug out her cotton nightgown, the one she’d worn that night out to the barn. Someone knocked on the door, and she opened it a crack to see a Chinese woman standing outside with a kettle of hot water. Two men stood behind her, holding a copper tub. Callie stepped
aside and let them in, and the woman poured the hot water into the tub. As she left, a second Chinese woman did the same, the two women taking turns until there was enough water in the tub for Callie to bathe.

  The women left her some towels and went out, and Callie locked the door and undressed. She got into the tub and lay back, wondering what Chris really thought of her naked body…longing to let him look at her that way again. Would she have the courage? Could she ever let him do that one thing that still terrified her?

  It might never happen. He’d said he loved her. He didn’t say he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, have babies with her. A man could probably love a woman and still leave her. They were strange creatures. She might never understand them and wasn’t sure anymore if she even wanted to understand. Why did they have to be so complicated?

  With a scowl, she finished washing. She’d been a damn fool, that’s what! Chris Mercy was not going to keep doing this to her! She got out of the tub and dried off, then put on some powder that her mother once used. She liked the smell of it. She pulled on her nightgown, then pulled the combs and pins from her hair, which she’d kept wound up under her hat again that day. She wished she had a second washtub just for her hair, and someone to pour water over it to rinse it. Since she didn’t have those things, she decided she could only brush out the tangles and trail dust. She spent the next few minutes doing just that, tugging her brush through her thick tresses until all the tangles were out. She continued brushing then, until her long auburn locks shone.