Carter

by Joan Johnston

  “I could have shared what you were feeling.”

  “I didn’t know you wanted to,” she said simply.

  “We’re husband and wife—”

  “Because you wanted the Rimrock,” Desiree said, being brutally frank.

  She saw him open his mouth to deny it, then snap it shut again. She dropped her head into her hands. “If I’d thought you could help, I would have said something,” Desiree admitted. “But there was no way any of those things that happened could be connected with Burley. It would have been a waste of time confronting him.”

  And dangerous. But she wasn’t going to say that to Carter. He was already too anxious to go hunting for Burley Kelton.

  Abruptly Carter left the room.

  Desiree felt a despair such as she hadn’t experienced since the time she was married to Burley and had been bullied by him day and night. She was as much Burley’s prisoner now as she had ever been as his wife. And it seemed there was no escape from her nightmare.

  She had thought things couldn’t get worse, but later that afternoon a police car drove up behind the house. Desiree was on her feet in an instant and running toward it. Carter had been gone all afternoon, and she was deathly afraid that something might have happened to him.

  Something had.

  When Carter stepped out of the backseat of the police car, Desiree barely recognized him. His face was a mass of cuts and bruises. Both his eyes were black and his lip was swollen. She didn’t ask what had happened to him. She knew.

  “The doc said to keep some ice on those bruises, Mizz Prescott,” the young patrolman said. He turned to Carter and grinned. “That’s some right cross you’ve got. Never saw a man go down so hard as Burley did.”

  Desiree stared in vexation as Carter tried to return the grin. His face was too battered to manage it.

  “When you two are through exchanging compliments I’d like to follow the doctor’s orders and put some ice on Carter’s face,” she said in a frigid voice.

  The patrolman tipped his hat. “Sure, Mizz Prescott. The judge’ll be expecting you on Monday,” he reminded Carter.

  Desiree didn’t wait to see if Carter followed her. She marched into the kitchen and began pulling ice from the freezer and wrapping it in a dish towel. When she turned, he was standing in the doorway.

  “Sit down and shut the door,” she snapped.

  “He looks worse than I do,” Carter said as he dropped with a groan into a kitchen chair.

  “That’s comforting,” Desiree said sarcastically.

  “It had to be done.”

  “I don’t know why men think everything can be settled with violence. What have you accomplished except to give Burley another reason to want revenge?”

  “He won’t be doing anything anytime soon,” Carter said with satisfaction.

  “Are you going to end up spending time in jail because of this?” Desiree asked with asperity.

  Carter started to grin again, put a hand to his puffy lip and thought better of it. “You may not believe this, but Burley started it. I was only defending myself.”

  “Where did you find him?” Desiree asked.

  “There’s a bar in Casper where he hangs out.”

  “Where’s Burley now?”

  “In jail. Or the hospital.”

  “Oh, Carter,” Desiree said as she eyed his battered face. “You foolish, foolish man. You didn’t have to do this for me.”

  His features hardened, his eyes narrowed. “I didn’t do it for you,” he said. “I did it for Nicky.”

  Desiree turned away so he wouldn’t see how hurt she was. Carter didn’t—couldn’t—love her, but he had given his affection to her daughter. She tried to be happy that Nicky had found such a protector. It was hard not to wish that he could love her just a little bit, too.

  “Desiree?”

  Carter took her hand and pulled her onto his lap. She laid her head on his shoulder and felt him stroking her back, playing with her hair.

  “I have a confession to make,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “What?”

  “I’ve wanted to get my hands on Burley Kelton ever since I first realized he was responsible for the scar on your face.” He paused and added, “What he did to the calf…it was just an excuse to go after him.”

  Desiree let her hands slip into the hair at Carter’s nape. “You foolish, foolish man,” she whispered. “I’d rather have a hundred scars than see one bruise on this face of yours.”

  Carter’s arms tightened around her. They sat there for a long time. Wishing things were different.

  She wished that he loved her.

  He wished that she could love him.

  Neither spoke their wishes, both being too grownup to believe that dreams do come true.

  CHAPTER NINE

  AS SPRING PASSED into summer, Burley kept his distance. Maybe Carter had beat some sense into him after all, Desiree mused. She began to hope that perhaps Burley had changed his mind about wanting her, that he had gotten over his unhealthy obsession. Maybe he had found someone else and that was why she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him—or any sign that he had been watching her. She began to relax her vigil, to make occasional forays from the house on her own.

  Carter was not so sanguine about Burley’s intentions. When he caught Desiree hunting for four-leaf clovers up in the hills behind the house one afternoon during Nicole’s nap, he lashed into her. “Are you crazy?” he demanded. “Or do you have a death wish?”

  “What’s the matter with you?” Desiree demanded, her fists perched on her hips.

  “I happen to care what happens to you,” he retorted.

  His comment smacked too much of the guilt she knew he felt, and not enough of the love she wished for in vain. “Don’t worry,” she snapped back at him. “I won’t get myself murdered by a stalker. Lord knows how you would survive it a second time!”

  His face bleached white and his mouth flattened into a thin line. “If you don’t care whether you live or die, I don’t suppose it makes much difference what I think.”

  Desiree was still too angry to be sorry for the wound she had inflicted on Carter. She had flung the accusation at him hoping he would deny that guilt was what motivated his care for her, hoping he would contradict her with protestations of love. Instead he had responded to her wound with a wound of his own.

  “Faron has a bull I want to take a look at,” Carter said through clenched teeth. “I was going to ask you to come with me, but I can see you’ve got other plans.” He turned and marched down the hill.

  She watched him speak to one of the men he had hired to watch over her. The two appeared to argue for a moment before Carter got into his pickup and gunned the engine, raising a cloud of dust as he peeled out of the backyard.

  Desiree sank down onto her haunches and dropped her head on her knees. How could she expect Carter to mention love, when she was so careful not to speak the word herself? She couldn’t go on this way. When Carter returned, she was going to have to tell him how she really felt. The mere fact he didn’t love her back wasn’t going to change anything.

  Desiree wasn’t aware how long she had been sitting there, until she realized she wasn’t alone anymore.

  “Carter?”

  “Guess again.”

  A shiver of terror raced down Desiree’s spine. She lurched to her feet and started to run. She didn’t get far before Burley caught the tails of her shirt and hauled her to a stop.

  She turned and fought him like a wildcat, her nails raking his face, her fists beating at him. She screamed, knowing there was help not far away.

  “Don’t waste your breath,” Burley said with a laugh. “The man your husband left to watch over you drove away five minutes ago.”

  Desiree paused to stare in horror at Burley’s malicious smile of triumph. “If you touch a hair on my head Carter will hunt you down,” she threatened.

  “Carter will be dead before you are,” Burley retorted. “Come on.” He began hau
ling her down the hill toward the house.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I want to see my kid,” Burley said.

  “No,” Desiree begged. “Please, do whatever you want with me, but leave Nicky alone.”

  He ignored her, tightening his hold and yanking her after him.

  Desiree kicked at him and caught him behind the knee, causing his leg to buckle. Instead of losing his hold, he dragged her down with him. Burley was good and angry by the time he got back on his feet. He slapped her once, hard enough to split her lip and make it bleed.

  “Don’t do that again, Ice,” he warned. “Or I might have to get mean.”

  Desiree dug in her heels as Burley dragged her down the hill. She had no doubt of the fate that awaited her when they reached the house. What terrified her was the thought of what Burley might do to Nicole. She had to find some way to escape him, or to render him helpless. Carter was gone. She would have to protect Nicole herself.

  Think, Desiree! Think!

  By the time they reached the kitchen door, Desiree still had no idea how she was going to save herself and her daughter. By the time they reached the foot of the stairs, she was frantic.

  Think, Desiree, think!

  But her wits had been scattered by terror. No plan of action came to mind.

  Fight, Desiree. Don’t give up without a fight.

  But he was so much stronger! If only words could kill, she thought. She knew they could wound. She had hurt Carter easily enough.

  Words. Use words against Burley!

  They had reached the top of the stairs and were heading down the hall to Nicole’s room.

  “You really ought to stop calling me Ice, you know,” Desiree blurted.

  “If the shoe fits,” Burley said with a sneering glance.

  “But it doesn’t,” she protested. “It wasn’t me who had the problem in bed, Burley. It was you.”

  He stopped so abruptly she ran into his back. He whirled around to face her. “Who says?”

  “I’m not cold in bed with Carter,” she taunted. “I’m hot. Steamy. He’s a better lover than you could ever think of being.”

  “We’ll just see about that,” Burley said.

  Desiree had accomplished her purpose. Burley was no longer headed for Nicole’s room. He was dragging her back down the hall in the other direction, toward her bedroom. She didn’t want to imagine what was going to happen when they got there.

  As they crossed the threshold into her bedroom, Desiree was very much afraid she might have jumped right from the frying pan into the fire. She only knew that she had to stay alive. For Carter’s sake.

  What on earth was she going to do now?

  * * *

  CARTER WAS FURIOUS WITH Desiree and even angrier with himself. Why hadn’t he just told her he was in love with her? So what if she hadn’t even mentioned the word? So what if she had married him just to have someone to protect her from Burley Kelton? The fact he loved her wasn’t going to change, even if she didn’t love him back.

  He wished he could be sure that hired man wouldn’t take off before he got back. He had promised Jubal Friar that he could have the afternoon off, but that was when he thought he was going to have Desiree and Nicole with him. Jubal had been upset that Carter had gone back on the agreement. Carter had threatened that if Jubal didn’t stay, he was fired.

  He hadn’t waited for an answer from Jubal before he had jumped into his pickup and taken off. What if Jubal had just walked away? That would mean Desiree and Nicole were alone on the Rimrock right now. Burley would find no one to say nay if he decided to go after the two people who meant everything to Carter.

  Carter turned the wheel of the truck so sharply that it skidded as he made the U-turn to take him back to the Rimrock. He knew he was going to feel like a tomfool when he got back and found everything just as he had left it. But a gnawing in his gut told him he would be forever sorry if he didn’t make sure.

  His heart leaped to his throat when he drove up behind the house and realized Jubal’s truck was gone.

  “Damn him! And damn me for a stubborn fool!” he railed to himself.

  He looked up on the hillside, but there was no sign of Desiree where he had left her. He checked the garden, but she wasn’t there. He gave the barn a glance, but realized it was far more likely she was in the house. It wasn’t long before Nicole would be up from her nap.

  He entered the house quietly, listening for the voice of his wife, the laughter of his daughter. Everything was deathly silent. He was on the stairs when he heard the murmur of voices. A woman’s. And a man’s. Burley Kelton was upstairs! Judging from the sound, he was in Desiree’s bedroom. And Desiree was in there with him.

  Carter felt the contradictory urges to race up the stairs and to remain as silent as a shadow. He couldn’t do both. He opted for silence. If he could surprise Burley, the situation might be resolved with a minimum of bloodshed. Not that he minded shedding Burley’s blood. But he didn’t want to see Desiree hurt. Not before he told her he loved her. Not before they had a chance to explore their feelings for each other.

  He bit his lip to remain silent when he heard Desiree taunting Burley about his prowess as a man. Did the fool woman think she was invincible? By the time she was through pricking Burley’s pride, the ex-convict was going to attack her like the maniac he was.

  He could hear the snaps coming undone on Burley’s shirt, the rasp of his zipper and the rustle of cloth as his jeans came off. One more second, another second and the man would be naked and vulnerable. Then Carter would attack.

  It didn’t take another second before he heard a scuffle in Desiree’s room.

  “Give me my knife, you bitch!” Burley shouted. “If I have to take it from you, I’ll break your arm.”

  Carter’s heart shot to his throat as he charged into the bedroom. When the door crashed open, he saw that Burley was still dressed in his long johns. The huge man wrenched the knife from Desiree’s fist and backhanded her, sending her flying against the wall.

  Carter saw red. “How would you like to try that on someone your own size?” he said with a low growl of menace.

  Burley ignored Desiree and turned to face this new foe. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the husband. Desiree and I were just renewing our acquaintance, so to speak.” He waved the knife in front of him. “Come on in and join the fun.”

  With his eyes, Carter warned Desiree to stay put. Then he gestured Burley forward with his hands. “Come on, big man. Let’s finish this once and for all.”

  “Fine by me,” Burley said.

  Carter had taken a step toward Burley when he heard a small noise behind him. At the same instant he turned to investigate, Desiree screamed, “Nicole, call 911!” and Burley charged.

  The little girl turned and fled downstairs.

  “Carter!” Desiree cried. “Look out!”

  Carter arched his body, so the knife that would have cut him deep merely left a bloody arc across his chest.

  “I’m going to kill you,” Burley said.

  Carter said nothing, merely watched his adversary with intent blue eyes, waiting for the next attack, looking for any chance to get in under Burley’s guard.

  Both men had forgotten about Desiree, who hadn’t been idle. The only thing she had found to use as a weapon was an antique pitcher and bowl that sat on her chest. She grabbed the pitcher and swung it at Burley.

  Because he was so tall, the pitcher’s effect was lessened. Instead of being knocked out by the blow, Burley was merely irritated and distracted by it.

  Desiree’s distraction was exactly what Carter had been waiting for. He shot forward and grabbed the wrist that held the knife and began applying pressure to make Burley release it.

  Unfortunately, Desiree hadn’t retreated quickly enough after hitting Burley, and he managed to grasp her hair and pull her toward him. When she was close enough, he caught her head in the crook of his other arm.

  Burley smiled a feral grin and turn
ed to Carter. “Let go of my wrist, or I’ll crush her head like a walnut.”

  “Don’t do it,” Desiree said. “He’ll only kill you, too, before he kills me.”

  Carter wavered, uncertain what he should do.

  Desiree saw that Carter would let Burley kill him rather than watch her be killed before his eyes. She did the only thing she could think of to do.

  She pretended to faint.

  Unready for so much deadweight, Burley watched in dismay as Desiree slid through his arm and onto the floor at his feet. He tried to take a step forward, but stumbled over her. As he fell, the knife the two men had been struggling over imbedded itself deep in his chest.

  Carter waited a moment to see whether the big man would get up. But the knife had done its work.

  Carter went down on one knee and pulled Desiree into his arms. “Desiree? Darling, are you all right? Are you hurt? Please say something!”

  “I…I…” Three simple words, I love you, and she didn’t have the courage to say them. Desiree slowly opened her eyes and beheld the worried, beloved face hovering over her.

  “What is it you’re trying to say, darling?”

  “Oh, Carter, I…I…I’m glad you’re all right.”

  He kissed her. A deep, possessive kiss, that claimed and captivated her. Then he lifted her into his arms, stepped over Burley and turned to pull the door closed behind him.

  The sound of sirens in the distance announced that help was on the way. And reminded Desiree of her daughter. She struggled to be set down. Once on her feet, she clambered down the stairs, with Carter right behind her.

  “Nicky? Where are you?”

  She found her daughter sitting at the kitchen table, with the phone at her ear, still talking to the 911 operator. “I have a mommy and a daddy,” she was saying, “just like my friend Shirley.”

  Desiree picked up her daughter and hugged her tight, while Carter took the phone and explained to the operator that the situation was under control. When he hung up the phone he turned to embrace his wife and daughter.

  “Who was that mean man, Mommy? Why did he want to hurt Daddy?”