by Jodi Thomas
The huge man bumped into the railing as he sat down. ‘‘I’ve been elected to come up here and talk to you. Hell if I know why. Grumpy seems like your natural state to me, and if it’s female problems, I’m not the man to give advice. I haven’t kissed a woman in so long, I forgot how to pucker.’’
Wes took a drink. ‘‘Tell my nosy brothers nothing’s wrong with me, would you?’’
Pulling out his pipe, Wolf nodded. ‘‘Sure.’’ He stuffed the bulb with tobacco. ‘‘Well, that was easy. And to think your brothers were worried about you. But I told them there weren’t nothing strange in a man moping around all night, refusing to eat, and not sleeping in a real bed when he had the chance.’’
Wes cut his eyes at the man. ‘‘Getting rather chatty in your old age, Wolf.’’
He lit his pipe. ‘‘Comes with not having to listen for the next bullet flying toward my head. You know, it don’t make any sense, but in a strange way, I miss the war. Not the killing and hardship, of course, but the way you feel all alive all the time.’’
Wes understood. When there’s a chance a man might die any minute he doesn’t spend too much time worrying about how many head of cattle he’s lost. Also, during the hard times of war, a man spends his free time dreaming of once there’s peace. But what does a man dream of when there’s peace? Wes hadn’t figured it out yet.
‘‘What I wouldn’t give for an adventure about now. Something to make my blood pump.’’ Wolf stared out into the loneliness of the land.
Wes handed him the map as he made up his mind. He couldn’t follow Allie around for the rest of his life waiting for her to heal. If she didn’t want him, she didn’t want him. It was as simple as that. Wolf was right, he needed something to get his mind off her. ‘‘Want to go treasure hunting?’’
Wolf looked at the map, interested but not excited.
‘‘Thirty years ago when Texas fought for independence from Mexico, men congregated at an old mission about two days south of here called Goliad. As the Alamo fell, they were headed in that direction to help. A few days out, they were attacked and captured. Santa Anna’s men held them in the mission chapel then marched them out on Palm Sunday morning of 1836 to be killed.’’
Wolf forgot his pipe and leaned closer to Wes. Interested.
‘‘Legend has it, hundreds of men buried all their valuables in a tunnel running below the mission. But the few who escaped were never able to go back and claim the treasure.’’
Wolf shook his head in doubt. ‘‘Thirty years is a long time to have a map around. Someone’s been there before you.’’
Wes smiled. ‘‘Only thing I forgot to tell you, the treasure’s cursed. Men have died over just the map. They say the ghosts of Goliad protect it.’’
Wolf raised and lowered his eyebrows several times. ‘‘Sounds interesting, but I’m not fool enough to believe in ghosts. If I were, a company or more are bound to be following me around trying to haunt me.’’
‘‘If I knew Allie was safe, I’d be on the trail by tomorrow morning.’’ Wes folded the map. ‘‘Time’s running out, and I’d love a shot at finding the treasure.’’
‘‘I am safe,’’ a voice drifted from the trapdoor opening. A moment later, Allie was in sight. ‘‘Both your brothers have offered to have Jason and me stay with them. Jason is excited about going with Adam. He says he will learn all about doctoring then take care of horses, not people.’’
She stepped over Wolf’s legs and sat down next to Wes. ‘‘Victoria also offered to let me stay for a while if I liked, though she said nothing about believing I’m her granddaughter. Not that it matters. I’m not staying.’’
Wes kept his voice calm. ‘‘You’re going with Adam?’’
‘‘No.’’ She looked him directly in the eyes. ‘‘I’m going with you. You said I could stay with you until I found a home.’’
Wes took a long draw on his breakfast. ‘‘Goliad’s no place for a woman. I’ll take you back to my ranch.’’
‘‘The treasure will not wait forever. We should go. We could leave at first light tomorrow morning. I can keep up with you.’’
Wes glanced at Wolf for support.
‘‘Don’t look at me. I took my little sister with me to war. What do I know?’’ Wolf stood and headed down the steps. ‘‘I’ll be ready when you decide to ride out. I don’t know about going treasure hunting, but I’ll travel with you until the road splits.’’
He vanished, leaving Wes and Allie alone.
She faced the sunrise. Silence drifted between them, reminding Wes of how very little she talked to him. At first her voice had seemed stilted, hesitant, as if she were getting accustomed to every word. But over time, he’d grown used to her ways. So much so that other women’s conversations seemed hurried and high pitched.
Finally, when her words came, they were soft, carried on the wind. ‘‘I have a place to go to deep in the hill country. A cave with robes and pots, everything I need to be safe. I remember your friend, Vincent, saying his grandfather ran from Goliad to the Guadalupe River. That is the river that runs close to my cave. All I would have to do is follow it upstream once we look for your gold.’’
Wes listened, wondering why she’d never told him of this place. Had she been afraid he’d follow her? Had what happened between them made her want to be alone?
‘‘After I ran during a raid, I made my home there for five winters. After years of never seeing anyone, I got careless and wandered too far from safety. I’ll not make that mistake again. I wish to return.’’
‘‘So you don’t want this pretense of a marriage anymore?’’
Allie looked down at the ring on her finger. ‘‘In this life, I will have no other husband.’’
‘‘And I will have no other wife,’’ he answered. ‘‘You’re the only woman who’s ever gotten under my skin. I’ve told myself it was just a need to protect you, but it’s more, Allie.’’
He stood suddenly, worried he’d say something he’d regret. ‘‘I’ll take you back to your home, if that’s what you want. Then I’ll look for the treasure.’’
‘‘No.’’ Allie faced him. ‘‘We go to Goliad first.’’
‘‘But—’’
‘‘We go to Goliad first, and each night we have left, you will hold me so that I can remember what it is like to sleep beside a husband.’’
‘‘And then we say good-bye.’’ Wes tried to keep his voice as void of emotion as hers.
‘‘Agreed.’’ She moved away, her head high. ‘‘If I help you find the treasure, I will have paid you back for some of the kindness you gave me. It is a fair bargain. Then I’ll follow the river, and you can head north to your home.’’
Wes watched the sun pull away from the earth on its journey. ‘‘It wasn’t kindness,’’ he whispered as she closed the trapdoor. He knew anything between them was hopeless. She’d set the rules. A part of him couldn’t help but be proud. A strength had blossomed inside her that surprised him.
The day filled with plans and preparations. Several men in Victoria’s army rode out, checking to make sure none of Michael’s men remained. Adam spent the day doctoring the sheriff and treating the signs of aging among the remaining troops. Wes and Daniel rode to town to see if anyone remembered the man who’d been asking questions, but the description the townfolks gave could have been half the men they knew.
Wes crossed Allie’s path several times as the day passed. Her manner was cold. He thought of reaching for her, if only just to touch, but she didn’t want a man. Allie only wanted a protector, a pretender who would hold her at night without any depth to his passion, without any warmth in his soul. She wanted the very thing he’d asked for in Angela Montago, a marriage without love, without passion.
At least she knew what she wanted, or, better yet, what she didn’t want. Wes had no idea. A month ago, he wanted to be rich. Then he’d seen Allie and he’d only wanted her safe. And last night, he wanted her beneath him.
By twilight everyone had
returned to the headquarters, and Victoria’s staff cooked a feast. The warm autumn night allowed tables to be set up in the courtyard, but nothing improved Wes’s mood.
Forcing himself to look away from Allie, he watched Victoria’s staff. They made sure the old woman’s world of darkness held no surprises. Her meals were prepared so that nothing had to be cut. Her place setting was exactly the same as for the meal before. She didn’t seem handicapped by her blindness within the walls of her home.
As soon as Victoria finished, she excused herself to return to Maxwell Hardy’s side. Adam might be a great doctor, but the sheriff’s improvements could mostly be credited to the blind woman’s constant supervision.
As Victoria moved away, Wes leaned across the table toward Adam. ‘‘Is the old man going to live?’’
‘‘I don’t know. The bullet wouldn’t have killed him by itself, but with the broken leg, he was already short on blood.’’ Adam shrugged. ‘‘If he dies, he dies in the place he wants to be.’’
Wes agreed. ‘‘The old fellow’s crazy about Victoria. He’s spent his life worshipping her.’’
‘‘You should see her fuss over him. She checks and double-checks everything I do for him.’’
‘‘Wonder why they never married?’’ Wes kept his comment low.
‘‘Maybe all her life she needed him as a protector. A knight in shining armor to call. If they’d married, it might have diminished his role.’’
‘‘Maybe.’’ Wes nodded, wondering if that’s all he’d ever be to Allie. Someone to help her out when she was in trouble, but not someone to spend any more time with than necessary.
Suddenly the feast seemed too crowded. Wes excused himself and went upstairs to his room. He had an hour before his shift with the sheriff started. Miss Victoria might cover the days, but they all took turns keeping watch over Maxwell at night.
Frustration had been brewing in him all day. Every time he looked at Allie, he remembered the way she felt all soft in his arms and the way she’d said ‘‘never’’ when he’d touched her. He had to put some distance between her and his heart before he exploded.
Their room was still in the evening shadows, but signs of Allie were everywhere. Her clothes stacked neatly on the dresser, hair ribbons rolled beside her brush, a nightgown spread out across the bed. She’d settled into the room as easily as she’d settled into his thoughts.
He’d just finished shoving a clean shirt in his bag when she opened the door.
She looked quite the lady tonight with her hair pulled up on the sides and tied with a real ribbon. She wore the blue dress that matched her eyes and a handcrocheted shawl about her shoulders.
‘‘We leave tomorrow?’’ She glanced at his saddlebags.
‘‘I leave tomorrow,’’ Wes corrected. ‘‘There’s no need in your coming to pay me back for some service you think I did you. You’ll be safer here for a few days.’’ He watched her closely as she folded her shawl over the chair back and placed the key she always kept in her pocket on the dresser. ‘‘You don’t owe me anything, Allie. I’m not taking you along.’’
‘‘I will go with you and help you.’’ She faced him, shaking her head as though refusing to believe his words. ‘‘We will sleep beneath the robes together until it is time for me to return to the cave.’’
Wes stared at the corner where the servants had already prepared her bath. He didn’t want to look at her beautiful eyes filled with tears, but the sight of the tub brought memories vivid in his mind.
He turned to the windows, but the vision of her wouldn’t leave his thoughts. What he did was for her own good. For his own good. He would only be putting her in danger if she went along. She could stay here, safe for a few days, and then he’d take her to her cave.
‘‘No.’’ He fought to keep his voice calm. ‘‘We will not sleep in the same bed together or beneath a blanket or robes. Not ever again.’’
She moved closer and brushed his back with her hand.
Wes stiffened as though she’d scraped skin away with her touch.
‘‘But I thought you—’’
‘‘You thought wrong!’’ he snapped. ‘‘Maybe I don’t want to pretend to be man and wife anymore.’’
Allie touched him again, feeling his withdrawal even though he didn’t move. ‘‘I thought—’’
Wes twirled, grabbing her by the waist and lifting her onto the footstool so she was at eye level. ‘‘You thought I liked this?’’ He kissed her hard, holding her head back. One hand plowed into her hair while the other pulled her body against him like a vice.
Breaking the kiss as suddenly as he’d started, he shouted, ‘‘Well, I don’t!’’ He had to make her believe he didn’t want her. It was the only way he could keep her safe . . . from danger and from him.
He backed a few feet away, leaving her balancing on the stool. ‘‘I don’t like kissing you.’’ He wiped his mouth. ‘‘Or touching you, or sleeping with you pressed against me. So we can stop that pretense right now.’’
He saw her chin quiver slightly and almost abandoned his attack. But he had to settle this here and now. She wasn’t going with him. If she wouldn’t stay here, he’d see her safe somewhere else. He would not take her into danger just because she wanted to sleep beneath his robes and pretend what they had was all there was between a man and a woman.
‘‘Leave me alone!’’ He couldn’t face her and say the words that had to be said. He turned to the windows. ‘‘Don’t tempt me one minute and sentence me to hell the next. I wasn’t the one who hurt you, and I’ll be damned if I’ll pay the price.’’
He told himself he was doing what had to be done. A clean break. He couldn’t play games. He couldn’t kiss her and touch her and not make love to her. And he couldn’t take what she didn’t freely give.
Wes wasn’t sure what she’d do, but he never expected a full attack. He turned just in time to see her jump at him with both fists flying like a wild animal cornered.
They tumbled to the floor like children, Allie swinging and Wes trying to defend himself.
Downstairs, the brothers sat finishing off the last of the coffee.‘‘Ah, marital discourse.’’ Wolf smiled as he toasted the ceiling. ‘‘Reminds me of home.’’
‘‘Sounds like she’s beating some sense into him.’’ Adam laughed. ‘‘Nichole almost killed me, making me see the light.’’
Daniel looked worried. ‘‘Allie’s small. You don’t think Wes will hurt her accidentally?’’ He might be a big man, but Daniel wore his heart on his sleeve.
Both older men laughed aloud. ‘‘More likely, she’ll hurt him,’’ Wolf answered. ‘‘Right about now, he’s probably wishing we’d come up and save him.’’
A loud thud resounded from above.
Daniel stared up. ‘‘Are you sure?’’
Wolf patted the younger man’s shoulder. ‘‘Up north, love may come in like a soft breeze on the wind, but in this rough country full of hard men, love has to smack a man solid between the eyes to get his attention.’’
TWENTY-FOUR
WES TOOK THE BLOWS, TRYING TO CATCH HER FLYING fists and guard his eyes at the same time. He rolled with her, bumping into the chair and sending it flying backward into the wardrobe. Kicking the footstool out of the way, he rolled again, slamming into the corner of the bed and making the headboard pound several times against the wall.He tried to stand, but she threw him off balance, sending them both tumbling once more. She continued to swing from every direction, hailing fists upon him.
Frustrated beyond patience, Wes rolled atop her and pinned her suddenly to the floor.
‘‘Enough!’’ he shouted as she twisted beneath him.
Her hair was wild around her, her eyes filled with fight. She was not afraid, but angry. There was a zest for life in her blue depths he’d never seen before—not just survival, but the courage to fight for what she wanted in this world.
‘‘Enough,’’ he said more calmly as he pressed his body against her. He loved t
he way her eyes sparked with fire when she was mad. He’d never seen her look more beautiful.
She still fought, trying to jerk free so she could land another blow. There were no words in her; her actions spoke her feelings.
‘‘Enough,’’ he whispered as he lowered his mouth over hers, unable to resist drawing closer to the fire. Her body twisted beneath him, allowing him the pleasure of feeling every part of her.
For a moment she fought, trying to move away, then she stilled and suddenly returned his kiss with the same zeal she’d used to fight.
She’d won the argument without a word, but he was too busy to notice.
Wes released her wrists and filled his hands with her hair as the kiss deepened. Her body softened beneath him, as she became aware of how he moved above her.
Allie sighed as the wall of his chest pressed her against the wooden floor. His tongue parted her lips in hurried demand. He tasted deeply as he molded against her, making every part of her alive.
He shifted, lessening his weight over her and allowing room for his hands to stroke her. The need to touch her pounded through him, driving all thought away as the fresh smell of her filled his senses.
When he felt her breasts covered in layers of material, his kiss grew wilder, and the longing to capture her flesh in his hand outweighed even breathing.
Frantically, he pulled the buttons free and shoved her dress open enough for his fingers to enter her blouse. The soft mound filled his hand in welcome. Her breathing came in gasps as he pressed his palm slightly. Her heart pounded beneath the intoxicating velvet of her flesh.
Then, she surrendered all struggle. She was his, moving to his every wish. Her fire had turned to passion and his anger to desire. He could lie to her no more, the need to hold her was too great.
He turned her away from him, enjoying how she cried out softly for more as he broke the kiss. But she molded as his hands twisted her until her back rested against him.