"Ah, hell, Turner can take care of himself," Eaton said. He settled his considerable girth back into the chair.
"Who was Beckley tailin'?" Sellers asked, curiosity lighting his dark eyes.
"Andrew Fallon." Frank Hayes, the new-hire, spoke up. "I was in the office that day when he come in, talkin' 'bout how he was gonna head up toward Grand Lake. He thought Fallon's Brigade was up that way, and he was gonna take 'em all on. Wipe 'em out." He smiled, as though he'd done something to be mighty proud of.
"Why didn't you tell anybody, Frank?" Sellers leaned forward, lettin the front two legs of the chair hit the floor with a bang.
"Well, I did, Tom! I told Marshal Turner next day when he come in. He said he'd take care of it."
The four men swore collectively. Then, they all began to speak at once. Tom Sellers' voice sounded over the din once more. "Who trained you, boy?" His tone was ominous.
Hayes wet his lips nervously. He reached for the bottle to pour a drink, but Eaton swiftly grabbed it and held on to it, as Morgan simultaneously smacked his hand down flat across the top of Hayes's shot glass.
Hayes squirmed in his chair. "Lem. Lem Polk."
"Well, son, that explains a lot." Sellers let his breath out, long and slow, as he laid an understanding hand on Hayes' tense shoulder. "You shoulda told at least two or three of us. Fallon's Brigade ain't to be trifled with, no way, no how. One man, or even two, ain't enough to kill them vermin. Don't understand what Beckley was thinkin', headin' up north alone."
Hayes swallowed. "He said he knew the country."
"Shit," Morgan said. "'Knowing the country' don't mean nothin' if you're outgunned like he'll be! Fallon's men numbered close to twenty, last I heard."
Eaton nodded. "Kaed Turner's damn good, but he wasn't going up there to help Beckley capture Fallon and his men."
"No." Sellers' voice was quiet. His gaze swept around the table. "Kaed's too smart for that. He'd take back-up."
"Then why'd he go? Alone, I mean." Hayes' Adam's apple bobbed. He anxiously rubbed the peach-fuzz stubble of a two-day beard.
"To try to haul Beckley's ass out of the fire," Morgan said. "He didn't have time to wait for back-up. He was counting on you, Hayes, to tell someone else." His eyes were like bits of green glass. "Kaed knew Beckley wasn't ready to go after Fallon's bunch, but he also knew Beckley was stupid enough to try it."
"Damn." Hayes leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. "So, you're sayin' they're…dead?"
"It's likely," Jenkins said. "Very possible."
"If they're lucky," Morgan added, glowering at Hayes from across the table. "Knowin' what Fallon and his men do to prisoners. Especially lawmen."
Frank grimaced.
"Did Mitch say anything else, Frank? Other than that he knew the country?" Sellers asked.
The young marshal shook his blond head miserably, looking down. "Just that he had a sister and brother-in-law living up that way. Maybe he'd stop in and surprise 'em."
"'Up that way,' where?" Morgan pushed his chair back and rose with a startling suddenness.
"Huh? I dunno. He didn't say, for sure."
Morgan made a disgusted sound, reaching into his pocket for some coins.
"You leavin' now?" Eaton asked. "Can't wait 'til mornin', huh?"
"Probably already waited too damn long to matter." Morgan pinned Hayes with a harsh glare. "What day was it when you saw Turner? And don't tell me you don't remember, Hayes."
"Uh, Friday. Last Friday."
"Damn it." Morgan swore and banged his hand down hard on the table. "You didn't think that was odd, him gettin' ready to go after Jake Blue and his gang, then headin' up after Mitch instead? A damn week goes by and you don't think to mention it to anybody? If anything happens to Turner, it's on you, Hayes. And by God, I'll be there to collect it outta your hide!" He turned on his heel and headed for the door.
"Hold up, Trav," Sellers murmured. "I reckon I'll be ridin' along with you." His gaze swept across Jenkins and Eaton in silent question.
"All right, count me in, too," Eaton said, rising.
Harv Jenkins stared thoughtfully at Hayes. "What about you, Frank? You with us?"
Hayes raised his gray eyes to look at Jenkins. "You want me? I mean, you'll let me come?"
"Jesus." Morgan turned once more for the door. "I'm gone."
"We're with you," Jenkins said, standing. He looked at Sellers. "If Fallon hasn't done Mitch in by the time we get there, Trav may do the honors himself."
* * * * *
From somewhere far away, a baby cried. Jessica fought the groggy hold of sleep and rose from its depths.
"Hey, Mama. Your little one's hungry." Kaed Turner's deep voice awakened her, suddenly and completely. She rolled away from his steel-framed body, careful not to jar him, and slowly pushed the covers back. She sat up on the edge of the bed as Lexi's fretful wail became a full-blown crying jag.
The night had been cool, and Jessica had set the milk pail outside the door with a covering over it. She rose and started for the door. She needed to get the oats made, even though it was early for Lexi to be awake. She turned to look at the baby who was trying to pull herself up on the sides of the crib. "I know you're hungry, baby," she said. "I know."
"Bring her to me. Maybe I can pacify her."
Jessica looked at Kaed, surprised. He gave a lopsided grin at her expression. "I used to be pretty good with babies. A long time ago."
His words carried a raw, husky edge…some kind of inner pain that he could not share. Jessica knew instinctively that he spoke the truth. He would be good with children, despite his tough lawman's exterior. She brought the milk pail in and set it on the cabinet, then crossed the room to the crib. After she changed Lexi's diaper, she carefully laid her beside Kaed.
He spoke in a soothing baritone and Lexi quieted instantly at the sound of his rich, smooth voice.
Jessica grinned, casting a glance over her shoulder as she mixed the oats and water. "Well, sir, you do have a way with the ladies, that's for sure."
"She's a beautiful baby," Kaed said. "She doesn't favor you much, though."
Jessica laughed at his obvious unease at his own words. "Does that mean—"
"Ah, hell, it doesn't mean anything. Chalk it up to the pain. Affects my mind. Makes me say stupid things."
She decided to let him off the hook. "She's not mine, Kaed."
"No?"
Jessica moved toward the bed, watching as Lexi reached out for Kaed's battered face. He turned his attention to the baby, maneuvering her little hands away. He talked to her quietly, and Lexi watched in fascination. So did Jessica.
"You just…borrowing her?" He glanced up from the child's dark eyes. As Jessica turned and went to the stove to stir the oats, Lexi laughed.
Marshal Turner was, apparently, a man of many talents.
"She was the daughter of some of our neighbors. They lived—" She pointed toward the creek. "A mile or so down south of here."
"What happened?"
"Rita and Wayne Hastings were their names. Rita was a beautiful woman, from Mexico. She and Wayne had already settled at their place when Billy and I found this spot. I was glad to have neighbors so close."
Jessica dished up the oats, added a little sugar and milk, and carried the bowl to the nightstand. She normally fed Lexi at the kitchen table, but she wanted to continue her conversation with Kaed. She could tell it pleased him when she re-joined him.
She settled Lexi on her lap. "Rita and I spent a lot of time together. She was already pregnant, and then—" She swallowed hard. "—when I learned I was, too, we had even more in common. "Anyway, we talked a lot. When Billy got killed—" She stopped, trying to get control of the memories.
* * * * *
It was still fresh for her. Kaed felt her keen sense of loss and it cut him to the quick. She must have loved him very much. Suddenly, he couldn't bear to know just how much, and he was sure she meant to tell him. "You don't have to talk about it."
&n
bsp; "No, I need to," she said quickly. "I need to tell you what happened. So you'll understand."
Kaed knew better than to argue with the tenuous determination in her voice. She was hanging onto her composure by a thread. He wanted to touch her, to reassure her. That feeling of being unable to speak of something so close to the heart was a familiar, painful one for him. It was nothing more than hating to see her recall those painful memories, he told himself. But he knew, even then, that he had already lost a big part of his heart to this beautiful woman who sat beside him, who cared for him, and who would spend today, again, watching over him. He owed it to her to listen to whatever the hell she wanted to talk about, and that was exactly what he would do.
Lexi lay back against Jessica's arm as she wiped the child's mouth and continued feeding her. "I lost the baby." She gave a harsh sigh. "I wasn't very far along. Don't even know what it was. I always kind of thought it was a girl."
Kaed lay silent, watching the natural way Jessica cared for Lexi. "After I buried Billy—"
"You?"
Jessica gave him a steady look. "There was no one else to do it. Besides, I didn't want anyone else to see him like that." Her hands trembled as she reached for the cup of milk she'd poured for Lexi and held it to the baby's lips.
"We've been working on this," she murmured absently as the baby took a sip of the milk. "Good girl."
So many questions crowded Kaed's thoughts that he wanted to shout impatiently at her to finish what she'd been saying. As if she read his mind, Jessica smiled and stood up.
"Let me put her back to bed and I'll tell you the rest. She probably won't sleep, but she'll be a lot happier now." Jessica peered at him in the dim light. "You want a bowl of those oats? I made extra, just in case."
How long had it been, he wondered, since he had eaten anything? He couldn't remember now. Nothing sounded good, but he needed to eat. He nodded. "Much obliged."
"I know you're not really hungry, but you need to eat something."
He stopped her with a look. "I won't give you any trouble, Jess. You make whatever you want. I'll give it a shot. Oats, that's fine."
She put Lexi in her crib and dished up another bowl of oats. Seating herself beside Kaed, spoon in hand, the moment became awkward.
"You don't need to do that. I can manage." He reached for the spoon, reading the uncertainty in her expression. "I can—"
"I don't mind."
"I do."
Their eyes locked for a moment, and finally Jessica relinquished the spoon. He tried to raise himself to a sitting position, and an agonizing shot of fire punished his broken ribs. He gasped, but determinedly propped on his shoulder, his splinted wrist hanging off of the bed as Jessica held the bowl.
"Don't be so proud," she said.
"Pride ain't all bad, Jess." He reached for the spoon to take the first bite, and his stomach rolled. "Pride's what's saved my butt more than a few times. Just 'cause I wouldn't lay down and die." Slowly, he took another bite. "I can do this, if you just hold the bowl. And finish your story."
Chapter Nine
She fought the urge to wrest the spoon from his grip, noting how hard it was for him to manage it. She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pain she saw in his eyes. Damnable, stubborn man! She held the bowl steady, and went on, choosing her words carefully.
"Rita and Wayne, they took care of me." No need to mention how she had stumbled, unthinking, unknowing, to their place that night. She had been hemorrhaging badly, and Rita had put her to bed and comforted her, healed her, and wept when Jessica had left after staying with them for two weeks.
"When I was well, I went home. No one could have asked for better friends."
Kaed laid the spoon in the bowl, his arm shaking. Jessica nodded in approval. "Those few bites are a good start. You can try more later on. Just take your time."
He lay back flat on the bed, and Jessica gripped the bowl tightly to keep herself from reaching out to help him. Would he resent it, if she did?
Keep your hands to yourself, Billy had told her often enough. So, she had. And she would now, as well. She took a deep breath as he settled himself in the bed, looking at her expectantly.
"When Lexi was just a few weeks old, Rita was bitten by a copperhead. She'd gone outside without her shoes and the snake was on their front porch. It was early morning, like this. She didn't see it in time." Jessica set the bowl aside, not looking at Kaed. She paused a moment before she spoke again. "Wayne thought he could save her. He didn't come for me until it was too late. By the time I got there, she only lasted a short while longer. She never spoke to me, but I knew she was asking me to take care of her baby. She just watched me. Then she went to sleep and never woke up."
Jessica noticed the spiking flush in Kaed's cheeks and leaned forward to touch his forehead. The fever was up. He reached for the wound at his side. Before she could say anything, he spoke, his voice gritty with the effort. "I take it Wayne couldn't care for the baby, so he asked you—"
"He asked me to marry him," she said quietly, "but I couldn't do that, Kaed. I didn't love him." She looked past him. "The next time I marry, it will be for love."
* * * * *
Kaed's throat felt dry and tight. Was she saying she'd marry for love again, or because love was something she'd never had from her first husband? "You were still in love with Billy? Hadn't gotten over that yet?" The pain had caught up with him once again as he lay listening to Jessica's recounting. His head pounded relentlessly, and his body was on fire all over, not just with fever, but with the burning, cutting flame of anticipation, tempered with a growing sense of impending disappointment. He had to know what Billy had meant to her, one way or the other.
Jessica gave a short, brittle laugh, and stood abruptly. "Oh, Marshal Turner. If you only knew. Billy was a… Well, another story for another time." She reached for the bowl. "Let's have a look at you, now. You seem to be in some pain."
But Kaed, unable to stop himself, grasped her wrist as she turned toward the kitchen. "Did you love him, Jessica? Did you love Billy?"
After a moment, she whispered, "I thought I did at first. It wasn't long before I realized—" Her hand shook, the spoon rattling where it rested in the unfinished bowl of oats. "I'll know it, the next time it comes around. I won't mistake it again, I don't think." She gave him a faltering smile. "You wouldn't think love would be so hard to recognize, would you?"
Kaed's heart pounded. Relief flooded through him. "Come back to bed with me." My turn. My turn to comfort you, for a change. I never meant to hurt you.
This comfortable easiness with one another scared her, and he felt it. But he gently released her wrist and patted the bed next to him, the place where she'd slept the night before.
Jessica carefully set the bowl back on the nightstand. She shook her head at Kaed's invitation. "Let me see what's hurting you first. It won't take long." She sat in the chair once more and leaned forward to pull away the bandaging at his side. Kaed gave a faint smile at the serious way she surveyed the damage. "This looks to be healing just fine," she murmured. "Probably could use some cleaning and salving again, though." She examined the cuts and abrasions across his chest and down his belly. He didn't flinch as she poured whiskey on a soft cloth and ran it over his lacerated skin, but his breathing caught and came more ragged than before.
She opened the jar of salve, spreading it on thick. "Better?"
Kaed gave her a slow smile. "Yeah. Better."
"How're your ribs?"
"They hurt. 'Course, when somebody kicks 'em in, that's to be expected, I guess."
Her smile faded, and he knew she was picturing the scene he'd called up for her. After a space of time, she said, "I…don't want to think about what they did. How they hurt you."
"I'm all right, Jessica."
She gave him a dubious look as she began to wrap fresh bandaging across his chest.
He smiled again, through swollen lips, but he could see Jessica wasn't fooled. "Give me a couple days.
I'll be just fine. You're a good doc."
She reached out and touched his cheek. "I guess just how good remains to be seen, doesn't it?" Sighing, she drew her hand back and stood up. He saw how the weariness weighed on her, dragging her down.
She'd slept fitfully, and he suspected it was due to her worry for him. Worry that he'd die. Worry that she'd hurt him by her movement. Worry that she hadn't done everything possible to save him.
"I meant to tell you, earlier. I just didn't say it right."
"Say what right?" She dipped a finger into the salve and reached to smooth it across his cut cheek.
He was drifting. Might even be able to go to sleep now that she'd changed the bandages. "I think you're one beautiful…angel." He closed his eyes, hovering at sleep's edge, his voice rough. "Mine."
* * * * *
Jessica laid her palm against his bruised forehead. What could it hurt? Lexi had gone back to sleep, and there was another hour until daylight. Maybe she would lie down a while longer. It would soothe him, she told herself. Make him rest easier.
The soft warm rush of trust eased across her frozen heart, melting her resolve. It was a welcome relief, but invited another kind of sorrow. Being able to trust again inevitably meant she would subject herself to the heartache love would surely bring. She had held herself apart from pain, and laughter, and love, for a very long time.
Billy Monroe had proved to be a disappointment. But she refused to classify him as a heartbreak. He'd never had her heart to begin with. She realized that, now that Kaed held it in his hands.
She carefully lay down beside him. He muttered something she couldn't make out, instantly moving toward her.
She put her arm across him gently, unable to believe the easy way this man had begun to strip her protective shell away in the short time he'd been here. It amazed and frightened her. He'll be leaving soon, she told herself. But maybe, just maybe, it would be all right to let herself enjoy the rich timbre of his voice, the understanding in his dark, gold-flecked eyes, the comfort of his warm touch—temporarily, of course. Surely, there was nothing wrong in a little temporary enjoyment. She'd had so little of that in her life.
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