“Fortunately for you, I didn’t know that,” Johnny replied coldly.
“Then you got a problem, don’t you, you half-breed son of a bitch,” Morgan taunted.
Johnny’d heard the word “breed” in relation to himself many times. It held no magic power to incite him. It was just that anything less than complete respect from Morgan Todd seemed like a good reason to hit the bastard. Steve tried to move between them. And even if he hadn’t been part Indian, Johnny would have been able to outmaneuver Steve.
Johnny’s right fist hit Morgan’s stomach with a meaty thud. As Morgan doubled forward, Johnny’s left fist connected with his jaw.
Too dazed to remain upright, Morgan sagged to his knees. Johnny stepped back, panting, fighting the urge to kill the bastard.
“Get up!” he demanded, his voice taut.
“Killing me…won’t get Judy back,” Morgan gasped, struggling to his feet. “She’s mine! She’s always been mine. All I ever had to do was be there. She didn’t want you. You were the only one in the whole damned territory didn’t know that!”
Johnny had known it. That’s why he’d been so mad when he’d ridden away three years ago. Now he was mad because Morgan’s way of talking about Judy made her seem cheap. If he’d been the killing type, he’d have pulled his gun and shot Morgan dead, but even as mad as he was he couldn’t see killing a man. But he could see beating Morgan to a pulp for taking advantage of Judy.
He threw himself at Morgan, and they tumbled down in a heap on the floor.
The two men rolled around and took turns walloping each other until both were bleeding. Steve yelled at them, but they ignored him. Finally he pulled a gun out of Dap Parker’s holster and fired it into the air. Johnny and Morgan both looked up at that. “Get up from there and stop fighting!” Steve ordered, and pointed the gun at them.
“You want us to just stand up and quit fighting?” Johnny asked.
“That’s right.”
Johnny stood up, pulled Morgan Todd to his feet, and directed a half-swollen smile at Steve. They looked like a couple of beat-up drunks. Blood ran down Morgan’s bruised face. Johnny didn’t have any open cuts, but his cheek looked as if it would soon be black. Johnny reached over and straightened Morgan’s collar, let his right fist drop to his side, smiled that silly-assed smile again at Steve, and without any more warning than that swung his fist upward with all the force he could put behind it. Steve saw it, cussed, and lowered Dap’s gun. Morgan saw it coming, too, and tried to sidestep it, but Johnny had corrected for the movement. Morgan hit the wall and slid all the way down, as stiff and ungainly as an overfilled sack of oats.
Johnny watched for several seconds. Morgan was slumped into the corner. Around them the noise level rose as men found their voices. Shaking his head, Johnny turned to Steve. “When he wakes up, tell him I’ll meet him in Tombstone, and we’ll settle this once and for all.”
He stalked outside. Steve gave Dap’s gun back to him and stomped out of the cantina. “Johnny, wait!”
Angry and impatient, Johnny stopped and turned to face Steve. They were outside, alone now except for the men who peered from the dim interior of the cantina, out of earshot. Taking Johnny’s arm, Steve steered him farther away.
“Dammit, you’re my friend. We grew up together. You know I love Judy. I’d do anything for her. But I won’t let you kill Morgan for telling the truth.”
“He made Judy look cheap in front of those men. It doesn’t matter what she’s done or hasn’t done. She has to face them day in and day out. No man has a right to cheapen a woman who loves him, especially not a bastard like Morgan Todd.”
Steve had gotten so accustomed to criticizing Judy, he had forgotten she might need a champion. Maybe Andrea was right…
“You knew?”
“I always knew.”
Frowning, Steve shook his head. “Why didn’t you kill him before you left?”
“Because I thought he would do right by her.”
Andrea waited until she saw Steve go into his office, put down the dust cloth she had been wielding, and followed him. His office door was open. He sat behind his desk, staring out the window at the empty corral behind the barn. Sounds of two mockingbirds in the tree behind the casa grande filtered in through his open window. Short, confused notes and then a melodic song cut the air.
“May I come in?”
Cowed by his own self-condemning thoughts, Steve raised his hands as if to say “I give up. Do what you want.” “Come ahead,” he said ruefully.
Andrea sensed his turmoil and stopped. “Maybe I picked a bad time.”
Steve stood up and stalked to the window. “There may not be a good time, the mood I’m in.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Steve sighed as if his burdens were more than he could bear. Andrea’s fingers tingled with the sudden, irresistible urge to touch him. She wanted to slip her arms around his waist and rub her face against him.
“No.” Steve wanted to tell Andrea that about the only thing she could do was to age fifty years overnight. Or keep her distance. And part of him couldn’t stand it when she did. At least once a day he went looking for her because he couldn’t help himself.
Steve turned and faced Andrea. “You came here for a reason. What can I do for you?” He controlled his eyes, kept them steadily on Andrea’s face, but even so, they managed to take in her lush curves beneath the simple, high-necked, peach-colored gown. Short sleeves revealed firm, graceful arms. Her shiny auburn hair was pulled back from her high forehead with a peach-colored ribbon. She was so fresh-faced and enticing, he felt the jolt of reaction the entire length of his body. Thank God she didn’t flaunt her many charms.
“I heard about a fight in the cantina. I wanted to find out—”
“Hardly a fight,” Steve said, embarrassed that his voice sounded unusually low and raspy. He cleared his throat. “Morgan Todd shot his mouth off, and Johnny wiped the floor with him.”
“Why?”
“Goes back a ways. I guess it started over Judy.”
“Is it serious?”
Steve resisted the urge to laugh. Any altercation between gun-toting men was serious. A confrontation over land, cows, gold, or women was the most serious. “Could be.”
“Is there anything we can do to stop it?”
“I could agree to accompany Morgan to the railhead at Silver City.”
“I don’t understand how that—”
“It might distract them.”
“Could I go along?”
“No.” There was no hesitation in his voice.
Angered, Andrea lifted her chin. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you along,” he said flatly.
Andrea couldn’t believe how much his rejection hurt. He wasn’t even pretending to be accommodating.
Steve saw her flinch, but it wasn’t enough to dissuade him. He was still smarting from disappointment in himself that Morgan Todd had insulted Judy in his presence and he hadn’t even noticed. As inadequate as he was feeling, he was in no mood to be reminded that his attentions to this sister had been far more than brotherly…
Stung more than she would admit, even to herself, Andrea tossed back her hair and pretended to be engrossed in looking out the window. “Aren’t you supposed to go through the motions of politely considering my request and giving me a list of carefully thought out excuses to salve my pride?” She turned and let him see into her eyes, no doubt sparkling with tears.
“No,” Steve said, his voice harsh with the effort at control. “You know the only excuse that matters.”
A rush of emotion made Andrea dizzy. The huskiness of his voice, the tension radiating from him and vibrating within her, all combined to disarm her. She turned away.
Steve couldn’t help himself. He stepped close behind her. Unbidden, his hands touched her bare arms. A jolt of electricity shot through him. His desire to touch her grew more intense. He should have let go of her, but his hands g
ripped her tighter instead, pulling her closer.
“Oh, Steve,” she murmured. She leaned against him for a moment, then lifted her lips to be kissed.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Steve’s lips touching hers blinded Andrea. His mouth tortured her with its closeness and its inability to get close enough.
Suddenly he wrenched his mouth away, took her face in his hands, and whispered, “Wait.”
Whimpering a soft complaint, Andrea moved to regain his embrace.
“Hush!”
Then she heard it. Feet pounded down the hall toward his office. Steve rubbed his thumb across her swollen bottom lip and reluctantly let his hands drop to his sides.
Lupe appeared in his doorway.
“The cavalry is coming,” she said anxiously.
Steve turned to Andrea despondently. Her mouth looked too well kissed, her eyes appeared as dazed as he felt. He wanted to push Lupe from the room, close the door, and kiss Andrea until he’d had his fill of her. Maybe if he could do that, he wouldn’t be so obsessed with the thought of her.
Andrea found her voice first. “Are we expected to prepare meals for them as well?”
Steve cleared his throat. “No. Usually the cavalry camps inside the walls and fends for itself. When my mother was alive she always invited the commanding officer up to the house for dinner. But you can suit yourself about that. I’ve never figured out why they stop here. Their fort is only three miles away.”
“Should I change?”
Steve viewed Andrea’s peach-colored gown. She had been working in the kitchen, which even on cool days was hotter than hell. Another woman might look wilted, but Andrea was radiant. Her cheeks were flushed with color, and her skin glowed. A moist sheen had dampened her gown between her breasts.
“Thank you, Lupe.” He nodded at the young woman, and she turned reluctantly and walked back toward the kitchen.
A pang of guilt surprised Steve. Andrea was trying hard to fit in. It probably wasn’t as easy for her as she made it appear. She had left loved ones and familiar surroundings to come here. So far all she had gotten for her trouble was trickery, rudeness, and two painfully aborted seductions. When he could think about her rationally—which wasn’t often—he realized she hadn’t sought him out and tricked him into almost making love to her. If her reactions were any indication, she was as caught up in passion as he and as helpless to stop it.
Once Lupe had left them, Andrea sagged onto the windowsill. She was so shaken that her knees felt like rubber. She had to tell Steve the truth. She couldn’t imagine why she had let the charade go on this long…except that part of her enjoyed being the lady of the spread.
“Steve, I have to tell you something.”
“I want to propose something completely insane to you. I know it may not work…”
Curiosity stopped Andrea dead. “What?”
Steve looked at the door as if he expected the cavalry to ride through it any second. “No, it’s too crazy.”
“What?” she demanded.
He touched her arm, golden and heated, and the magnetism of her skin weakened him to the point where he could have said anything.
“Meet me tonight after the others go to bed. Let me kiss you. I know this is crazy, but I have the feeling that if I could just kiss you…I promise I won’t do anything else.”
“Yes.”
Steve drew in a ragged breath. “God help me…Come. We must meet our guests.”
He took Andrea by the elbow and led her toward the front door. What he had asked of his sister was pure insanity, but it was the only chance he had to rid himself of his obsession for her. He would sate himself with her kisses tonight, and tomorrow he would take the silver through himself.
Going with Morgan would serve three purposes: It would get rid of Morgan Todd before Johnny killed him, it would remove him from temptation before Andrea turned him into a gibbering idiot, and it would get the silver to the railhead, where it would be safe and could start earning its keep.
“Is this appropriate? I mean, will Judy think I’m trying to usurp her position? I don’t want to step on her toes.”
Steve was unexpectedly moved by her concern. He hadn’t worried about stepping on her toes. He’d been so damned busy being mad at her for causing him to lust after his own sister…
“Judy’s not concerned with etiquette, especially where the cavalry is concerned. We’re hardly your picture-book family.”
“I’m hardly the product of a picture-book family myself,” she reminded him.
He opened the door for her, followed her out, and paused at the top of the porch steps. Two abreast, with the United States flag and their company banner flying in the slight breeze, a column of blue-clad soldiers rode smartly through the gates.
Andrea squinted against the brightness of the sunlight. Probably in his fifties, the captain sat tall and straight in the saddle. He led the column, in full battle gear, up the path toward the casa grande. When he was ten feet from the steps, he raised his gauntleted hand, and his aide barked, “Company halt!”
The smartly uniformed company halted amid the creak of saddle leather and the clank of sidearms. Spread out, the line of horses, cannon, and wagons reached halfway to the gate. Horses stamped and snorted. The flag and red-and-white banner proclaiming Company A floated down and hung limply from lack of a cooling breeze. The soldiers sat their horses at attention. The captain adjusted the sword on his thigh and dismounted. He looked back at the column, tucked his hat under his left arm, and removed his right gauntlet as he climbed the steps. At the top he extended his right hand to Steve.
“Welcome, Captain Rutledge.” To Andrea, they shook hands with what seemed great formality. Steve turned deferentially to include her. “Captain, I’d like to present my…sister, Andrea.”
Clearing his throat, smoothing his dark, silver-streaked hair and impressive handlebar mustache with his hand, Rutledge stared in astonishment and then mustered a smile. “This is a great surprise and pleasure for me, Miss Burkhart, an unexpected bonus! My men and I always enjoy stopping at Rancho la Reina. Now our pleasure will be doubled. I only hope you will not mind being the recipient of so much avid appreciation from the opposite gender. Respectful, surely, but avid nonetheless.”
Glancing at Steve, Andrea wondered if she should accept the appellation—“Miss Burkhart”—without explanation. Steve didn’t even appear to notice. Surely everyone in the territory had heard about her questionable heritage by now; no need to belabor it. She was, in fact, grateful to Rutledge for not embarrassing her. Smiling, she accepted his remarks with gratitude. “Would you join us for supper, Captain?”
“I would be most delighted, Miss Burkhart. If you would excuse me now, I must see to the needs of my men.” Rutledge bowed to Andrea and then addressed Steve. “You’ll have to bring your beautiful sisters to the fort. No sense hiding them here, where all this beauty can’t be appreciated.”
“I’ll be sure to do that,” Steve said.
From the firm set of his jaw, Andrea guessed Steve was biting back some comment. Was it because of the capitán or because of her? Was he already thinking about marrying her off?
“Major Hart will be eternally grateful as well. He has a discriminating eye for beauty, Miss Burkhart. We see far too little of it in this territory.”
“You don’t sound like a westerner, Captain. Do I detect an eastern accent?”
Rutledge preened visibly. “West Point, Miss Burkhart. You have a discerning ear.”
“How long have you been in the territory?” she asked. “I didn’t think Fort Bowie was that old.”
“It isn’t. Fort Bowie is here for the duration of the war against the Apaches. I have been stationed in different parts of Arizona for almost twenty-two years: Yuma, Prescott, and Camp Verde to name just a few. But my heart has always been here in the Sulphur Springs Valley. I was one of the few soldiers who stayed behind to guard the settlers during the Civil War. Those were rough years. In spite of every
thing we could do, we were spread too thin; settlers died by the thousands.”
“Perhaps you can tell me more about it while we dine, Captain. Dinner will be served at six o’clock. Will that suit your schedule?” Andrea asked.
“Absolutely, Miss Burkhart. If not, I would fit it forcibly. I shall be prompt.” He walked quickly down the steps, remounted, saluted, and then led his men back toward the front gate. Andrea watched them leave.
“Now you know why he stops here.”
“I do?” Steve asked, frowning.
“His heart has always been in the Sulphur Springs Valley,” she said, mimicking the captain. “Perhaps in the form of Judy.”
Steve chuckled. “He is the one man I would never accuse Judy of practicing her charms on. She thinks he’s an old pervert who comes here only to spy on her.”
The table at the far end of the parlor, which had been covered by three sheets to keep out the dust, was mahogany. Carmen uncovered it, and Andrea knew immediately that she would be using this table frequently. She had fallen into the habit of eating with the women in the dining hall, but she would not make that mistake again. The table had been built by a master craftsman. The top had a high sheen to it that would look wonderful in candlelight. Excited, Andrea scoured the compound until she had picked an assortment of wildflowers. Then she located candles and washed the good china Carmen said Judy had ordered from a mail-order house but had not used after the first week.
Once she’d washed and polished the table with furniture oil, it glowed a deep burnished red that set off the blue-and-white floral pattern on the china. To add to the ambience, Andrea had Dap and Leon clean the lanterns over the table.
By the time the table was set, Andrea was excited. She rushed to her room to dress for dinner. She had missed the formality of the East. She pulled out her prettiest gown. Uncle Tyler had begrudgingly bought it for her because he entertained occasionally. It was deep purple with black satin accordion-pleated ruffles. The white chiffon bodice cupped her breasts. Tiny cap sleeves left her arms and neck bare. Gathered fabric at the back fell in a cascade from the fashionable bustle. Andrea chose a black velvet ribbon to wear around her throat. After trying her hair in a dozen different ways, she decided to wear it up for a change. Arizona was so hot, even after sunset, that she would appreciate the coolness of having her hair off her neck.
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