by Jodi Thomas
By the second morning Andrew was strong enough to drive the team, and Colby had recovered enough to sit up behind him and tell him how. Andrew had been right about the kid; he hadn’t seen his eighteenth birthday, but he was a hardened cowhand. He’d been raised on a ranch and he’d finished his first big cattle drive.
Andrew also noticed that Colby didn’t seem able to talk when Madie was near. She was younger than he was by almost three years, but if Andrew were guessing, he’d say Colby had been around very few girls near his age. She fretted over him, and he politely pushed her away.
Two things were obvious about the cowboy. He knew his way around Texas, and he was crazy about Beth McMurray. Maybe it was because he thought she’d saved his life, but Colby couldn’t stop staring at her. He saw her as Joan of Arc, and he would have followed her into any battle. He kept asking her one question after another just to hear her voice. Levi got so tired of it he declared no one could ask any more dumb questions until dark.
Andrew wasn’t surprised when Beth saddled his horse and rode beside the wagon. She handled the pinto better than he ever had. He rode out of necessity; she rode for pure pleasure. With her acting as scout, they made better time and soon connected with a stage road that was far smoother.
That evening she entertained them all with stories of the McMurrays. She told how Travis McMurray had been a Texas Ranger and ridden in raids after the war to bring home children who’d been kidnapped. She told of the legend of Whispering Mountain that her Apache great-grandfather had told them about. “If a man sleeps on the summit of the mountain, he’ll dream his future. My grandfather dreamed his death, and my father dreamed he’d have daughters,” she told them.
Late into the night, she told them of storms and grass fires the family fought and how once her uncle had almost died in a raging river. She described the hard time during the war when her papa plowed their ranch land in long rows to plant enough food to feed the townsfolk. Madie even cried when Beth described her uncle Drummond Roak walking home after the war and how he was so thin her aunt Sage didn’t recognize him.
For children raised in the West, the stories of hardship were well known, but for Andrew, who’d spent most of his life in the East, they were fascinating. He’d never owned land or cared about a part of the country. The year he’d been married, he’d worked as a teller in a bank, and his journey each day had been three blocks between their rented flat and the bank. He and Hannah had lived near the the center of town. Their exciting evenings were usually walking along the streets and watching people. He’d make up stories about all the strangers and she’d laugh.
He was twenty-four when she died of pneumonia. He’d left everything in his life behind, walking out with only one small pack and a blank journal. That day he began to wander. Always reading, always studying, hoping to find something that interested him, always writing in his journal.
Now, as he looked at Beth, he realized he might have finally found what he was looking for. She interested him. She’d fill an entire journal, and years from now when he read about her, she’d keep him warm with memories of her and her Texas.
That night, when she came to tell him good night, he held her, wishing she’d stay by his side a little longer. Every day was one more day he’d have to remember, but he knew they’d reach Fort Worth tomorrow. Tonight was their last night together, and her kiss had been quick, as if she’d been in a hurry to pull away.
He let her walk back to the campfire, having no idea how to stop her.
After everyone settled in around the campfire, Andrew walked into the darkness and studied the stars. Colby had said tonight that the heavens were all the roof he ever wanted. Andrew thought he might adopt that philosophy for a while. He was tired of towns and cities; maybe that was why he’d spent more nights away from his place in Fort Worth than he usually did. The past few years, every time he felt he needed to move on, he always moved west. Sometimes only a town or two, sometimes a state. He didn’t want to just see new lands, he wanted to feel them around him and understand the people who called them home.
He’d change yet again. Maybe he’d start wearing western clothes and carrying a gun. He couldn’t see himself joining the Rangers, but he might sign on for a cattle drive. Surely the skills needed could be learned. Who knows, he might even ask Colby to teach him.
Sometimes he felt like his life was a blank canvas, and every now and then, when he almost got a painting watercolored in, the rain would come along and wash it all away. He’d started over so many times, even starting over didn’t feel new.
“It’s a nice night,” Beth said softly from about ten feet away.
Andrew turned, watching her move toward him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She laughed. “I know you probably think I only talk to you when something’s wrong, but there hasn’t been much time for the two of us to have a conversation.”
He had a feeling they were going to have one now, so he waited for it. She was a planner, a goal setter, a measurer of time and task. For a drifter without purpose she was a hard pill to swallow sometimes, even with her beauty.
“I was wondering why you haven’t even tried to kiss me again.”
“I’ve been waiting for you to come to me if you’re interested. I can’t kiss you while there’s an audience, and I won’t come after you.”
“I’m interested,” she said, without moving closer. She’d walked all the way out here and couldn’t seem to make it the last few inches. “I’ve always had men come after me. You seem to have become a challenge for me.”
“Why do you want another kiss?” It dawned on him he had nothing to offer a woman like her. She was the kind of woman who married a powerful man with goals and ambition. He didn’t even know where he’d be six months from now.
She was silent for so long he thought she might not answer. When she did, her voice was so low he barely heard. “Because I’m in danger of never feeling anything again for the rest of my life, and you seem the only one around who might be willing to help me. Lamont killed a dream inside me. He even killed the hope I’d hung onto for too long. I feel cold and dead inside more than angry.”
He knew that feeling. He’d lived with it for years.
“You’re getting over a breakup with the man you loved. You’ll recover and move on.” Her loss was nothing like his. She was a spoiled woman who hadn’t gotten what she wanted.
She shook her head. “That’s just it. I’m mad about even getting engaged to Lamont. I’m more angry at myself for being so dumb to fall for a man like that than I am at him for being an ass.”
Andrew laughed and wondered if she’d ever used the word before. “So, he’s an ass, is he? You won’t get any argument out of me.”
“I’m not torn up about him. I’m more upset that I was planning to marry him and I didn’t even know him.” Her admission ended with a cry. “I didn’t even love him and now I don’t feel anything. It’s like I got cheated at both ends of the rope. Maybe I’m hollow inside. Maybe I’ll never feel anything the rest of my life. I’ll grow old and wither like an apple left in the hot sun.”
“You’re not hollow, Beth. You’ll feel again.”
“How do you know?”
He wanted to tell her he knew because he was hollow. He’d gone seven years without caring. But, for the first time, he wasn’t so sure he’d be telling the truth. He’d cared enough about Ryan to climb on that train and try to stop him from ruining his future. He’d cared enough about Beth to save her life. Maybe he was waking up from a deep sleep. Maybe it was time to feel again.
“I’ll show you how I know.” Taking a step behind her, he circled her waist and pulled her back against him so hard he felt her breath leave her lungs for a moment. “Relax, Beth, and feel.”
When she opened her mouth to say something, he whispered against her hair, “Just relax and don’t talk. I think we’ve had enough of a conversation tonight. If this is the last time we’ll ever be alone together, we need to
communicate in simpler terms.”
His fingers pressed along her ribs as her breathing quickened. He lowered his head and tasted the side of her neck. “Lean into me and feel for once in your life. Don’t think.” He kissed the smooth flesh of her throat.
She let out a soft cry of need and relaxed against his chest.
“We’re not children, Beth, but maybe we can still pretend. Maybe you need someone to care about you and, for a moment, I’d like to believe that I could be with someone who cared about me. I need to believe it, if only for a few minutes.”
When she didn’t answer, he moved his hand up between her breasts and began unbuttoning her blouse. On the third button, she stopped his hand by simply placing her fingers over the buttons.
He brushed his lips lightly against her ear. “I’ll take away the memory of Lamont and whatever he said if you’ll let me. I’ll make you feel needed and desired, but if you don’t want this, walk away. We can go on pretending we’re not attracted to one another.”
She was so still that he added, “Every time you walk near, I swear my blood warms, and when you touch me almost by accident, I want to hold you against me like this. This moment will always be one of my favorite memories, no matter how many years or miles pass.”
“Will you say you love me?”
He heard the longing in her voice, but he wouldn’t lie to her. Not like that. “No, but I’ll show you how I feel. I want to touch you, but even more I want you to know how it feels to be touched by a man who doesn’t want to own you or control you.”
The nearness of her filled his senses as he waited. Slowly, she removed her hand from his and stood perfectly still, her back pressed into his chest. His heart pounded so hard he was sure she could feel it. One by one the buttons of her dress fell open, and with feather-light strokes he touched the lace beneath.
Without pushing any further, he turned her slightly and kissed her. A deep, slow kiss that warmed them both.
When he finally ended the kiss, he whispered against her open mouth, “You ready to feel a little more?”
She nodded as she pressed her lips to his once more. This time the kiss was hungry and hurried. As it deepened, he slid his hand beneath her dress and closed his fingers over her full breast, covered only by thin lace. He needed to know the woman beneath the proper lady.
Beth trembled, and he knew he’d gone further than she’d ever allowed a man to go, but she wasn’t pulling away. He found it amazing that a woman of twenty-four had never known a man’s touch. The thoughts of what he’d like to do to her in the darkness would probably frighten her to death, so he kept his touch light.
She was learning and he was exploring. It was enough for them both . . . for now.
Any sounds she made were muffled by the kiss. He’d meant to teach her how to feel, but he knew he was the one coming alive. This woman affected him as none had in years, and memories flooded back of another time and another woman in his arms.
Hannah.
He broke the kiss and brushed his lips against Beth’s forehead as he pulled his hand away from her breast and began buttoning her dress. “That was unbelievable, but I fear I’ll die flying too close to heaven if I don’t stop.” Somehow, feeling too deeply for Beth was a betrayal to his wife. The soiled doves he’d slept with a few times had only satisfied a physical need. They hadn’t bothered his heart. Beth was different.
Andrew wasn’t playing around or acting; he could feel alive with her if he allowed his heart to start beating again.
“You made me believe I’m not broken inside,” she whispered. “Thank you for that, even if you were only pretending to care.”
He wanted to tell her he wasn’t pretending, but he didn’t know how to explain what was happening. Self-preservation took over. “You’re welcome. Now, it’s time we turned in for the night, but I reserve the right to pick up our communications later if time and place ever allows.”
Andrew couldn’t believe his own words. If he’d had a gun he’d have shot himself for being an idiot. He had no business even saying such a thing to her, for tempting himself with more misery when they parted.
Only, part of him wanted to believe, even though he’d never knock, that the door was open to continue what he’d started.
“If the time and place ever allows, you’ll be welcomed,” she whispered, already moving into the shadows.
CHAPTER 9
EVERYONE ELSE IN THE CAMP WAS STILL ASLEEP AS first light melted across the eastern sky. Madie Delany watched the young cowboy crawl out of his bedroll and move toward the stream. He was doing better but still wasn’t steady on his feet. He hadn’t said more than a few words to her, but he hadn’t been mean either. She’d been on her own since she was twelve, and most of the men she’d met were mean, so she counted the snakebit cowboy on the good guy side of her life.
She wrapped the blanket around her and quietly followed him. A few feet from the water’s edge, she knelt near dried brush. It wasn’t full light, but she watched him take off his clothes and step knee deep into the cold water. Slowly, as if his muscles hurt, he washed his body, but the dark bruises didn’t wash away. He’d been beaten badly. Kicked in the back and on his legs. Maybe even stomped on, from the size of the dark bruises along his lean muscles. More than one man must have held him down, because he was tall and built rawhide strong. She didn’t really know him, but it worried her that he might have made enemies who wanted him dead.
When he walked out of the water and tugged on his trousers, she stepped in front of him.
“What are you doing here?” He looked more embarrassed than angry. “I thought everyone was still asleep.”
“I figured you might like me to take off that bandage over the snakebite.”
He stared at her as if he didn’t trust her. The wet bandage was still tied to his arm.
“It’s dirty.” She pointed. “Does the bite still hurt?”
“No, not much. I tried to get it off, but I couldn’t untie the knot with one hand.” He held out his arm. “You can give it a try, but don’t look at me. I ain’t dressed properly. It wouldn’t be right.”
She nodded. “I already have looked at you. No need for a second viewing. Most of your skin is purple from what I see.” She untied the bandage below his elbow. The area around the two punctures was red and swollen a little, but healing. “How’d this happen, anyway? You’re from around here. You know about rattlers. You’d have to get close enough to dance with a snake to get this kind of bite.”
He stood tall, towering over her by almost a foot. “Some men in town, rough types with whiskey on their breaths, jumped me when I stepped into my hotel room. There were four, but only three grabbed me. The fourth one held a gun on me like he planned to fire if the other three couldn’t handle me. They beat me up, tied me to the bed, and rifled through my clothes and saddlebags. From the sound of their swearing, they weren’t finding what they were after. I heard one say, ‘The kid ain’t got it on him.’ But I have no idea what they were talking about.
“After everything I owned was scattered across the room, I thought they were going to leave me, but one picked up a grain bag with a snake wiggling in it. He pushed my arm in the bag and held it closed until I yelled when the snake bit me. Then he seemed satisfied that I was on my way to the grave. The other three gave me a few final kicks and left.”
Colby frowned. “One said that I’d do anything they said once the poison took hold.”
He couldn’t seem to stop talking to her now that he’d started. “The bite hurt, but I’ll never forget feeling that snake curl around my arm with both of us sharing that bag. I couldn’t move enough to get the bag off, and I was afraid if I moved too much the snake might bite me again, but he seemed to want to curl up next to me.”
Madie began wrapping the wound with a clean cloth she’d had in her pocket since last night when she’d seen how dirty his bandage was. “What did you do to them that made them so mad?”
“I asked,” Colby said
. “I didn’t have twenty dollars on me, so I know it wasn’t robbery. The guy with the gun said it wasn’t nothing personal. Just a job, he said, like I shouldn’t be too upset.”
Colby looked relieved to have finally told someone the story. “I was too afraid to tell anyone in town. Afraid the guy with the black mustache and the gun would come back and finish the job. The others were doing what they needed to do, but he looked like he was really enjoying watching. He’d come back to finish the job if the snake hadn’t bit me, so I didn’t even tell the doctor all that had happened.”
“That was smart.” Madie wasn’t so sure how smart it was, but she didn’t want him to feel bad because he was afraid. Fear seemed something she dealt with daily. She’d grown up afraid her father would one day beat her to death, and, when he’d kicked her out claiming she was near enough grown, she’d been afraid she’d starve.
“The maid found me the next morning and called the doctor,” Colby said. “I thought I was in good hands until the doc started shooting something in me. Every shot he gave me took me one step closer to death’s door. I heard him tell the nurse that strong boys like me die of snakebites all the time, but I knew that if I lived the night after being bit it wasn’t the snake that was killing me.”
Madie tied off the bandage that was really no longer needed. “That why you love Mrs. McLaughlin, because she saved your life?”
“She and her husband did do that, I’ve no doubt. If it wasn’t for them I’d be six feet under by now, but I don’t love her. I owe her.”
“You don’t love her?”
He shook his head. “She’s a married lady and probably six or seven years older than me. I wouldn’t mind loving a woman like that someday when I’m older and have made my way in the world. Right now, when my pa finds out what happened to me in town, I’ll be lucky if he’ll let me leave the ranch again before I’m thirty.”
Madie grinned. “I’m glad. I was afraid you were lovesick, and that will kill you as likely as the snake.”