Aurora Springs was located deep in southwest Texas about a million miles from everywhere. Leaving Dallas ten days ago, Gabe had traveled south to San Antonio, then waited around to catch a westbound train for the four-hundred-mile stretch through wilderness and desert to the water-stop town of Eagle Gulch. There he left the train, bought a couple of horses, and rode north by northwest along the old Comanche War Trail to reach the tiny settlement.
He was travel-weary, tired clear to the bone. He’d love to stagger to a bed and sleep for a couple of days. But at the same time he wanted to spur his horse and gallop into the village. He had questions galore for his runaway bride, questions he’d come hundreds of miles to ask.
Gabe knew better than to barrel into town without first taking careful stock of his surroundings. Considering how Tess had ducked out on him in Dallas, he didn’t figure she’d be all that happy to see him now. He didn’t think she’d greet him with the business end of a gun, but he couldn’t be sure. Twelve years had passed. The Tess he’d married then might have little in common with the Tess he aimed to get to know today.
Dusk crawled across the plain behind Gabe as he secured his horses, retrieved a pair of field glasses from the saddle bags, and made his way to an outcropping of rock some twenty yards to the north. Avoiding a cactus, he lay down and stretched out on his belly. Heated metal ringed his eyes as he gazed through the sun-warmed glasses. Starting at the north end of the settlement, he slowly panned the area.
The cottonwoods lining the banks of the creek caught his notice right away. They were the first real trees he’d seen in better than a hundred miles. Moving on, he counted five small houses, a barn, a couple sheds, a chicken coop, a pair of camels, and what appeared to be a communal kitchen or mess hall. Abruptly, he jerked his glasses back. “Camels?”
Yep, they were camels all right. What sort of place was this? Pigs he understood, but camels?
Gabe continued his perusal. Aurora Springs resembled a ranch headquarters more than a town. He spied no stores, no churches. Hell, not even a saloon. What kind of Texas town didn’t have a saloon? Maybe this wasn’t Aurora Springs, after all. Maybe he’d taken a wrong turn in the desert.
Then his glasses caught a bright flash of orange against a backdrop of pink. A ribbon. A ribbon on a pig. “Nope, I’m in the right place,” he muttered softly.
Tess’s pig lay sprawled in the shade in front of one of the houses. As Gabe watched, its head slowly lifted and it wrenched to its feet, then plodded across the yard toward the barn where a lanky man stood tossing food scraps from a bucket into a wooden trough.
Gabe gave the man a quick study. No gun belt. Work gloves poked into a pocket. Well-worn hat. Mid-twenties, he’d reckon.
So, two camels, one pig and one man so far. How many others?
Movement at the far north end of the compound caught his notice and Gabe refocused his field glasses. Two women carried a basin and bedding up the front steps of the last house in the row. He recognized one of them from the fair. What was her name? Twitter or Tremble? Something silly like that. A buxom lady, she was dressed in a flowing, patterned robe of purple and red. Instead of the requisite sunbonnet, the woman wore a turban like one of those Swami fellows. But this one was orange.
Gabe shifted the field glasses away from his eyes and blinked. “Enough to make a man see spots,” he grumbled before focusing once again on the women.
The other female was much younger. Tall and slender, she wore a normal skirt, shirtwaist, and bonnet, something Gabe found reassuring in the face of the older woman’s flamboyance.
The females set their burdens down on the porch, then Twinkle—that’s the name—rapped on the door. Staring hard, Gabe saw her lips move, but he was too far away to hear what she said. The women waited a moment, picked up what might have been an empty stew pot sitting beside the door, and departed. They made their way across the yard to the barn where they struck up a conversation with the man Gabe had previously noticed.
The fellow wrapped a casual, yet possessive arm around the young woman’s waist as he twisted his head and called out toward the barn. An older man stepped out of the shadows. He wore a blue uniform coat and buff-colored trousers. Sunlight flashed off rows of medals lining his breast.
As the four of them spoke, their heads turned toward the house the two women had visited. Gabe deduced their talk centered on whoever was inside.
Tess. It had to be her. He felt it in his bones. He’d bet his saddle he was right.
Summoning his patience, Gabe waited until the small gathering dispersed before slipping down to the village. Furtively, he made his way toward the cabin. Wooden shutters shielded the window on the west wall, so Gabe made his way around to the south where luckily they hung open. Easing up to the portal, he cautiously peered inside. And damned near swallowed his tongue.
At least she has her clothes on.
Gabe swallowed a suddenly sour taste in his mouth, unable to peel his gaze away from the scene inside the cabin. Tess was here, all right.
His wife lay sound asleep, sprawled like a blanket across a bare-assed naked man.
TESS WOKE abruptly, exhaustion clawing at her body even as she realized something was wrong. Immediately, she reached for Andrew’s neck and felt for a pulse. Weak, but still beating, thank God.
She brushed back a lock of his carrot red hair and placed a weary hand against his forehead. Hot again, blast it. When she’d finally lost the battle against sleep, he’d been shivering with chills. Now the fever had him burning up again, and he’d kicked off his blankets. She was surprised he hadn’t pushed her out of the bed like he had the last time she’d crawled in beside him to help him keep warm. She’d fallen asleep then, too, and when he got hot, he’d rolled her onto the floor.
But she wasn’t on the floor now. So what had dragged her from the sleep she so dearly needed?
Brow wrinkling, she glanced around the room. Someone stood hidden in the shadows in the corner. “Jade? Is that you? What are you doing in here? You know no one is allowed inside.”
“I can see why.” Gabe Cameron stepped into the light and added in a hard tone, “Adultery is something better kept private.”
Gabe. Tess’s stomach fell like a meteor and she groaned aloud “Well, Aries, Cancer, and Cassiopeia,” she muttered. When she’d stood him up in Dallas, she’d suspected he might follow her home. But since he’d given up on her easy enough the first time, she’d figured the odds at fifty-fifty. Thank goodness she’d hedged that bet by taking precautions. As soon as she’d returned to Aurora Springs, she’d sent Will off with Doc. “I need this today like Rosie needs singing lessons.”
For the briefest of moments, he appeared distracted. Then he folded his arms and sneered, “I can’t imagine a time when it’s handy to get caught cheating on your spouse.”
“Oh, be quiet. You don’t have a clue of what’s really going on, Gabe Cameron.”
“Don’t call me that,” he said, taking a step forward. “My surname is Montana now. Don’t hang anything else on me.”
“Fine. Call yourself whatever you want, but I’m still Mrs. Cameron.”
“At least you remember the Mrs. part,” he noted, pointedly eyeing the bed.
Tess sniffed. She’d bet her favorite star chart he hadn’t changed it legally, but that wasn’t worth mentioning. Tired, she rolled out of bed and braced herself, preparing to confront him. When she got a good look at the furious light in his eyes, she almost crawled right back in. Gabe was obviously itching for a fight and unless he’d changed significantly in the past dozen years, she could count on the battle taking a while.
Lovely.
“You used to be smarter than this,” she observed before turning her back on her husband and devoting her attentions to Andrew.
She could almost hear Gabe fuming as she retrieved the basin of fresh water and bed linens outside her door. When she dipped a cloth into the water and began sponging her friend’s overheated, freckled face, she would have sworn
she heard her husband grinding his teeth.
She rinsed the towel, then stroked it across Andrew’s naked chest, fully expecting Gabe to protest. She didn’t anticipate his grasping her around the waist and lifting her bodily away from Andrew’s sickbed, then yanking the cloth from her hand.
“So maybe I know you’re playing nursemaid instead of bedmate, but that still doesn’t mean I want to watch my wife performing this kind of intimacy with another man.”
“Close your eyes, then,” she replied, making a grab for the damp washrag. “You’re acting the half-wit, Gabe. You haven’t fretted over what your wife’s been doing for the past twelve years. No reason for you to start now.”
He muttered something she couldn’t make out and held his arm out as she struggled with him, the cloth beyond her reach. Frustration welled up inside her. She was too tired for this. She wasn’t prepared for him. “Please, Gabe.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he released her. “What’s the matter with him, anyway?”
Tess pushed her hair back away from her face and smoothed her skirt as she gazed with concern at the man lying prone in the bed, “I’m not at all certain. Andrew has suffered fevers in the past, but this one is different. This one frightens me. It’s worse than ever before, and we’re afraid it may be contagious.”
Gabe lowered his arm to his side, the washcloth dangling limply from his hand “Contagious?” he said with a sharp edge to his voice. “This fella’s illness may be contagious so they send you in to nurse him? Why not one of the men I saw outside? What is he to you, Tess? Was I right the first time?”
He sounded jealous and it surprised her. He’d never displayed that particular character trait before, and he had no right to act that way now. But at the moment, she didn’t have the energy to fight that particular fight. “Andrew is my friend, and I’m here because I was with him when he collapsed the day before yesterday.”
Skepticism curled Gabe’s lip. Her hand tingled with the need to slap it off his face and the reaction surprised her. As a rule, she didn’t believe in violence.
“I’m telling the truth,” she insisted. “He suffers from recurrent malarial fevers. That’s why I left the state fair earlier than planned. He needed a fresh supply of quinine.”
“If you brought the quinine, then why is he still sick?”
Frustration overwhelmed her. “That’s the problem. His recovery lasted only days. This may well be a different type of illness entirely. He spent a month up in the hills tracking the white stallion, and we don’t know what he may have come in contact with.”
“The white stallion? Oh, never mind. What does the doctor say?”
“The nearest doctor is in Eagle Gulch, and he refuses to come out here. We use our best judgment in dealing with illnesses, and in this case that includes keeping quarantine.”
“Quarantine?” he croaked.
“Yes, quarantine.”
Gabe glanced down at his feet, then slowly looked back up. “You and this naked guy.”
“And now you.”
“Me.”
“Yes.”
Gabe muttered an epithet, then strode over to the stack of clean bedding, retrieved a sheet, and draped it across Andrew’s loins. For a moment, he stood beside the bed studying the fevered patient, his brow furrowed in thought. “Well, this isn’t exactly how I had it figured, but I guess it’ll give me time to ask my questions.”
Questions. Wonderful. As if fighting death for Andrew wasn’t bad enough, now she’d get to war over the past with Gabe. Tess dosed her eyes and sighed. “Andrew comes first.”
Gabe scowled and dipped the towel into the basin. He twisted it, wringing away the excess water, and turned toward the bed.
“Wait.” Tess touched his arm. His muscle was steel beneath her fingers and for a brief flash she remembered what it was like to be wrapped in his arms. No, Tess. Don’t do that to yourself. “If this fever is transferable by physical contact, I’ve already been exposed. You haven’t. There’s no need for you to take the risk.”
Gabe looked down to where her pale hand rested against his bronzed skin. His nostrils flared as he filled his lungs with air. Tess fought the urge to step closer.
“Risk?” His mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Haven’t you heard? I’m a hero. Risk-taking is part of the job description.”
Gabe gently removed her hand from his arm. “I’ll deal with your…friend, Tess. Now, why don’t you give me a rundown of his symptoms, tell me what I can expect. Then we can make a plan on how the two of us can work together to get him well.”
The combination of too little sleep and too much Gabe Cameron had scrambled her brains. She wanted to maintain her defenses against him, but the other emotions rolling through her were weakening the walls. “I’d feel better if I took care…”
Gabe settled the question by dragging the damp cloth across Andrew’s furry chest in a brisk, efficient manner. Watching him, Tess idly wondered if her friend would miss her gentle touch.
“The symptoms?” Gabe repeated.
She shook her head and summoned her thoughts. She could indulge anger later. With crisp, concise sentences, she explained about the fever, chills, and sweats. She told him how Andrew’s periods of lucidity alternated with long stretches of delirium. “He’s had bouts of vomiting, although those seem to have subsided in the past few hours.”
“Sounds like your diagnosis was right the first time.” Gabe observed. “It’s malaria. We’re not gonna catch anything from him.”
“No, it’s not malaria,” she said firmly. “Like I said, it’s different this time.”
He shrugged. “Fine, I won’t argue. What do you want me to do once I get him washed down? Do we need to feed him?”
“He was awake earlier, and we ate supper then.” She filled a glass from a pitcher and approached the bed. “He needs water most of all. If you’ll hold him up, I’ll try to get some down him. Then I want to change the bedding.”
Gabe appropriated the glass saying, “I’ll do it. You know, he might not be hungry, but I sure am. Think you could rustle me up some groceries while I water up the patient?”
Tess rubbed her eyes. Gabe’s manner made it obvious he didn’t intend to allow her to touch Andrew again. Fine. As long as her friend received the care he needed, she could use the help. Besides, she needed to put some distance between herself and the uninvited guest before she lost her composure. “I don’t cook here in Andrew’s house, but I do have makings for a sandwich in the back parlor. You’ll change his sheets?”
“I’ll take care of him. My word on it, Tess. As long as you feed me, that is. And while I’m eating, I want to hear about how the divorce never happened.”
The divorce. She would almost consider breaking quarantine to avoid speaking about her father’s lie and its aftermath.
She’d had plenty of time to think on the train ride through West Texas, and she had spent much of it analyzing her feelings where her husband was concerned. She’d been angry with Gabe for twelve long years, and it would take more than learning that her father had lied to him to erase it. True, in her grief she had pushed her husband away, but the man had displayed his feelings with his feet, had he not? He’d left, hadn’t stayed and fought for her, fought for them.
He hadn’t loved her enough, and she had paid a terrible price for it. A price she’d be hanged if she would speak of while short of sleep and holding onto her control by a corset string.
Sighing, she exited Andrew’s bedroom and took the outside path to the back parlor. Like all the homes here in Aurora Springs, the house Andrew normally shared with Colonel Jasper Wilhoit was built in an L-shape. In this case, an entry hall separated the two bedrooms in the front of the house. The parlor and bathroom stretched toward the back and were accessible from both the back porch and Jasper’s bedroom. For the length of the quarantine, Tess and the colonel had traded beds, and as Tess buttered bread for Gabe’s sandwich, she gazed longingly in that direction.
Th
e oblivion of sleep sounded good right now. Ordinarily, Tess wasn’t one to run away from conflict, but the thought of slogging her way through both lies and truth with Gabe at this particular time made her shudder. Run from conflict? Shoot, she’d fly away if she could.
She made his sandwich, then placed it and a glass of buttermilk on a table. Then, once again eyeing Colonel Wilhoit’s feather mattress, she wondered if she dared lie down. She probably should return to the sickroom, but Gabe said he’d see to Andrew. She trusted him to keep his word.
She hadn’t done more than catnap for the past two days. He said he wanted to discuss the past and she would certainly need all her defenses. For that I’m not ready.
Tess all but dove for the bed.
FOR THE second time that day, Gabe found Tess sleeping. Fear slithered up his spine and he hurried to lay his hand against her forehead. Cool.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
Tenderly he brushed straggling strands of hair away from her forehead, then, with a will of their own, his fingers slid into the thick, silken luster of her hair. So soft. So beautiful. Warm, flowing honey that glinted with hints of fire.
Without conscious thought, he gently pulled the hairpins free. Her tresses tumbled in a shimmering waterfall some of which he caught and lifted to his face. He knew the scent. Lavender and innocence. It swept him back to a time and place where the fragrance surrounded him by day. And by night.
THEY LAY side by side on a quilt spread across a mattress of spring green grass in a meadow bordered by fragrant pines. Above them, the moonless sky displayed the stars in frosty splendor. Today was Tess Rawlins’ fifteenth birthday and Gabe’s universe had just been sent reeling with a dismaying discovery.
His best friend Billy’s little sister made him horny.
Thank God it was dark.
He never dreamed anything this shocking would happen when he accepted Billy’s invitation to supper earlier this evening. He was going mainly for the birthday cake. Lila Mae Wilson cooked for the Rawlins, and she baked one mean devil’s food cake. Billy had promised Gabe an extra big slice.
The Kissing Stars Page 4