by Diana Palmer
“Don’t be. I expect the situation to resolve itself quite soon,” he said, thinking about the morning to come and Garmon with his mocking grin.
“How?”
He finished his whiskey and got to his feet. He didn’t limp at all now. He looked elegant and fit and vital. He walked to where Noelle sat and leaned over her with a hand on the back of the chair. His blue eyes stared right into hers.
“Don’t come into town for the trial in the morning,” he said abruptly.
“Why not?” she asked unsteadily, because he was very close.
He searched her eyes slowly. “I can’t tell you. You’ll have to take my word for it. If you go out, make certain you’re with Andrew. He’ll protect you.”
She’d never seen Jared like this, and she was worried. Her brows drew together. “Jared, they won’t try to lynch Mr. Clark, will they?” she asked.
“Right now, that’s the least of my worries.”
Her green eyes searched his blue ones and her heart raced. As she watched, he bent toward her, hesitating just as his lips hovered over hers. Now that Andrew was back, she might not want this with him. But he did, so desperately, want her mouth one last time!
“Noelle,” he whispered unsteadily.
She looked at his lips, so close to hers. “Oh, come here…” She pulled his head down and kissed him as hungrily as he kissed her. Did she sense that he might not see her again after the morning? Was she offering him comfort? He didn’t know, didn’t care. His mouth devoured hers until his body forced him to pull away as the sharp edge of desire made him rigid. Her arms clung when he raised his head, and he groaned as she pulled him back. Once more, he thought, as he crushed her warm mouth under his lips. He lifted her clear off the chair and enveloped her completely against him, so hungry that he couldn’t restrain his ardor.
She felt her knees give way, and was grateful for the strength of his hard arms around her as the kiss went on and on and on.
It hurt him to let her go. He eased her away, breath by breath, his hands firm on her arms as he disengaged them from around his neck. His blue eyes were glittering with banked-down desire and he shuddered with the force of it as he pushed her away. He saw her tremble from his fingertips, saw her huge, misty green eyes watching him, unblinking, as he fought for control.
How could she kiss him like that when she loved Andrew? he wondered furiously. How could she permit him to touch her at all?
“You have…never kissed me like that before,” she managed in a choked whisper.
“Perhaps I should have, that day in the kitchen,” he replied huskily, searching her flushed face with quick, soft eyes.
She put a hand to her swollen lips. “That day… Why did you throw my hand off, as if I’d contaminated you?” she asked.
He took a steadying breath. “Because I wanted you suddenly, to the point of madness. I didn’t want you to see, to know how vulnerable I was to your touch, Noelle.” He managed a strained smile. “I could hardly tell you that before we were married. I had to let you think I was repulsed.”
She looked at him with new eyes, with hope, with wonder. “You keep too many secrets,” she whispered.
He nodded. His eyes searched hers slowly. “You are the most beautiful thing in my life,” he said harshly. “The world would have been diminished without you in it.”
She moved closer, but he backed away with a cold laugh.
“No,” he said abruptly, holding up a hand. “No. I’ve said too much already.”
She didn’t understand at all. Her eyes pleaded with him. “Something is wrong,” she said suddenly. “I know it. Jared, please, tell me!”
But he couldn’t. He moved away from her quickly, to stare out the window with his hands in his pockets until he could get his breath back.
She watched him. She could still taste the whiskey on his hard mouth, the desperation in his kiss.
“What’s wrong?” she asked again.
He took a deep breath, turned, and looked at her until she flushed, memorizing every soft, sweet line of her beloved face. He looked tormented for an instant. But then, quickly, he composed himself. After a minute he turned away. “Nothing. I have some last-minute things to do before I retire. Sleep well.”
He started out of the room. “Jared?”
He paused with his hand on the door, one eyebrow raised.
She sensed how hungry he was for her. She could feel the whip of it, and her body burned with the memories of the last time, with her own need of him. But she hesitated. It was such a forward thing to say to a man, even a husband—especially one who’d just said flatly that he was going to divorce her. But he was worried about the trial, and she could give him the ease of her body, if nothing else. And perhaps, if she could make him want her enough, he might change his mind about freeing her.
“If you wanted to, you could…we could…” She blushed, embarrassed by what she was offering him.
“Would you really make that sort of sacrifice for me?” he asked softly, fighting the temptation to accept it. But he couldn’t. She was Andrew’s. He took a deep breath and mockery flared in his eyes. “Are you sorry for me, Noelle?” he taunted.
She glared at him, now furious. “I’m not in the least sorry for you! And I don’t want to sleep with you, anyway!”
His eyebrows arched. “Was it really so bad?” he taunted.
She gasped.
He laughed mirthlessly. His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “It was almost sacred,” he said roughly. “I’ll never touch another woman as long as I live. The memory will be enough for me, long after you’re gone.”
She didn’t understand what he was saying. Her lips parted. “Jared, you never came to my bed again,” she said softly, mindful of anyone who might be outside the door and hear her.
“I didn’t dare,” he replied, his eyes blazing with feeling. “My God, do you think I didn’t want to?” He took a quick breath. “Noelle, we have to play the cards we’re dealt. Your future doesn’t lie with me. What you gave me was more than I ever expected.” His eyes were somber, solemn now. “Try to remember that, won’t you? You’re very young, my dear. You’ll be happier with someone…closer to your own age.” He meant Andrew, but he couldn’t get the name out of his mouth. He stared at her puzzled face with exquisite pain. He loved her. “I guess, one way or another, you’ll know it all tomorrow.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Believe me, you will.” His eyes narrowed, even now his one thought was to protect her from any harm. “Remember what I said. Stay out of town in the morning.”
He went through the doorway abruptly. Her mind raced ahead to the next day. And one thing she was certainly going to do was go into town for the trial. There was some danger, she knew it. And if her husband was in danger, she was going to be right where he was, whether he approved or not, even if he did want to divorce her! If only she could understand why he kissed her like a man desperately in love and the next instant talked of setting her free to marry a younger man. Why, who was he thinking of? Surely he knew that Andrew wanted to marry Jennifer Beale. Or did he?
Chapter Fifteen
JARED WAS TACITURN and stoic the next morning; he left the house just after breakfast. He’d barely eaten anything, and he was unusually tense. No one knew that he’d been up most of the night, deliberating over what he was going to do this morning. There had been one long, terrible conflict between his need to save Clark and his respect for the letter of the law. He’d broken the rules before and never regretted it. But this time, he had less choice than ever before. If he didn’t bend the law a little, an innocent man would go to the gallows.
Noelle’s ardor had also kept him sleepless. Apparently she was as helpless as he was in their mutual attraction for each other. The difference was that she loved Andrew
. That might be just as well, given the possibility that Jared could die today.
He alone knew the enormity of what lay ahead. He was tense, but he didn’t speak. When he was ready to leave, he kissed Mrs. Dunn. He even shook hands with Andrew. But for Noelle, there was nothing except one long, achingly intense look that seemed to actually hurt him. He didn’t dare touch her—because he didn’t want his feelings for her to be obvious to everyone in the household. The memory of her sweet kisses the night before would have to carry him through whatever lay ahead.
He left the house, resplendent and elegant. His last sight of Noelle was with Andrew right by her side, very close. As he looked, Andrew smiled down at her and she smiled back. Well, what had he expected? He knew why Andrew had wanted to come home. He’d come to his senses about Noelle and they seemed to be back on their old footing. How could he blame Andrew? She was one hell of a woman. He put on his hat and went out the gate. And he didn’t look back.
Noelle watched him leave with a sense of foreboding that made her knees weak. She knew something was wrong.
“He looked odd,” she mentioned to the others.
“It’s this trial,” Andrew said carelessly, and he smiled gently at her. “All the controversy. Why in heaven’s name he had to take the case is beyond me. Everyone’s talking about it, even in Dallas.”
“But the man is innocent, Andrew,” Noelle said curtly.
He shrugged. “What difference does it make?”
“Well, it should make a difference,” Mrs. Dunn broke in. “You watch your tongue in my house, young man.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured sheepishly.
“I’m going to town,” Noelle announced sharply.
“So am I,” Mrs. Dunn seconded.
Andrew hesitated. “I’m expected for lunch at the Beale house. Mr. Beale seems to be coming around about my suit for Miss Beale’s hand—” He noticed their angry looks—“But I have time enough to go with you both to town this morning. I’ll just get my hat.”
* * *
JARED WENT TO his office without looking back. He didn’t wear a gun. It was still in his trunk, along with the other memorabilia of his past. Having had the night to think over his next move, he hoped that there would be no serious gunplay. Garmon would surely come to town to try and scare him off the case. But if it came to that, Jared could wound him. He didn’t have to kill the man.
There was also the city ordinance against carrying concealed weapons, and it was enforced. If Garmon came to town packing a gun, he’d be arrested.
But if all went well, Jared could get the man on the witness stand, and, if he worked Garmon over properly, he could force a confession from him. He might salvage this case against all the odds. He had done it once before, to his credit. But somehow, in the back of his mind, he knew that it wasn’t going to be that easy. Garmon was that sort of man who liked to show off. And he thought Dunn was a fancy dude who didn’t know a gun from a stick. Jared himself had set the stage. It was unlikely that Garmon was going to back down—he had too much to lose. Right now, Jared had nothing to lose except his client’s life. He couldn’t afford to back down, whatever the personal cost. At least Noelle was safely at home and wouldn’t see whatever violence transpired. Garmon might even have second thoughts and make a run for it, before he was unmasked. But Jared didn’t think he was going to let the chance of intimidating the city lawyer go by.
* * *
AND HE DIDN’T. Jared’s premonition about Garmon came true. Just ten minutes before he was due to leave his office to go to the courtroom, a loud voice called to him from the street in front of his office. “Dunn! Jared Dunn, come on out here! I want to talk to you!”
Jared heard the loud voice and stepped out the front door. Sure enough, there stood John Garmon with a gun strapped low across his hips, waiting with an ear-to-ear grin. He had his two cronies with him, and several people who had come to town for the trial stopped to watch from the sidewalks.
Jared whipped off his reading glasses and walked out into the edge of the dusty street to stare at the man. “I hear you, Garmon. What do you want?”
“You’re defending a filthy robbing black boy, Dunn!” Garmon raged, noticing that a small crowd of onlookers was beginning to gather. Good. Witnesses could serve his purpose very well. “He beat old man Marlowe to his knees and stole all his money, and you’re going in that court to get him off by telling lies about me!” He turned to the crowd, playing to it like a professional actor, his arms wide to embrace it. “He’s going to try to accuse me of doing the robbing, folks, to save that ignorant slave in the jail. He’s from up North, where they like those black boys, you see. He’s going to try to convince you that I hurt that poor old man and took his money myself. You see, a lawyer has to have somebody to blame it on!”
Jared listened with interest. So that was the way Garmon was going to play it—attack before you were attacked and get the first word in. It was good strategy. But it wasn’t going to work.
“You robbed Marlowe, Garmon,” Jared replied. “You’ve done exactly the same thing before, in two other towns that I know of. In Austin, there was an eyewitness.”
Garmon whirled to face him, furious at the accusation. He couldn’t afford not to challenge it, because it was true. “You’re a liar. You’re a filthy, yellow liar. Come out here, you Yankee coward, and let’s see if you can tell the truth when you’re forced to. If you’ve got a gun, get it, or I’ll kill you where you stand!”
The challenge sent a murmur through the crowd that had gathered, and it included three people on the sidewalk barely half a block away. Noelle peered anxiously through the gap in the crowd to see her husband standing in the street with a huge man wearing a holstered pistol. And now, all at once, Noelle understood Jared’s insistence that she stay home. He’d expected this!
Oh, for heaven’s sake! That’s why he was acting so strangely last night, she said to herself.
The man, Garmon, was yelling insults. Jared moved farther into the street.
“He can’t do this,” Noelle said desperately. “He can’t be thinking of facing that man! He’ll be shot down…Andrew,” Noelle cried, grasping his coat sleeve. “Andrew, get up there and do something. Stop them. You were a soldier, you know how to stop trouble.”
“Noelle, that cowboy has a gun!” Andrew gasped. “Are you crazy?”
“He’ll kill Jared!” Noelle burst out, her wide eyes filled with terror. “Why won’t you do something?” she raged when Andrew refused to move. She sighed furiously. “I must stop him!”
But as she started forward, Mrs. Dunn caught her arm. “No,” she said firmly. “Don’t shame Jared.”
“Shame him? That man says he’s going to kill him.”
“Be still, child,” Mrs. Dunn said, because she knew very well that Jared would take care of the situation, that he knew exactly what to do. She didn’t dare let Noelle interfere, because she had a fairly good idea of how Jared felt about his wife. He couldn’t afford any distractions right now. “It will be all right, Noelle. I promise you, it will. Wait.”
Noelle couldn’t fight that firm old hand. Oh, God, how would she live if Jared were killed? He had been a lawman once, but that was long ago. Surely he didn’t have a gun with him?
Unaware that his relatives were close and watching, Jared slowly pulled back his jacket on both sides. “I’m not armed,” he told Garmon, playing the role he’d given himself.
“Then get a gun,” Garmon demanded. His swarthy face was smug, haughty. He knew the lawyer couldn’t beat him with a pistol. If he ran, that would solve part of the problem. If he didn’t run, it would be legal murder, with witnesses. He might be arrested for breaking the firearm ordinance, but it would appear to be a fair fight. Except that Jared Dunn would lie dead at the end of it. But Garmon was sure now that Dunn didn’t have the guts to strap on a pist
ol and face him like a man.
Sims, the city detective, saw the perfect opportunity to show off his own prowess with a gun. He grinned as he stepped out into the street, his hand wavering over his own low-slung gun butt. “That’s enough, Garmon,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, confident that he could easily outdraw the other man. “Put the gun down now, and—”
“Thank God!” Noelle began, watching.
At the same time she spoke, a loud pop interrupted her. She hadn’t even seen Garmon’s hand move, but his pistol suddenly sang once and Sims’s leg collapsed. Sims squeezed off a shot as he went down, and the bullet thudded into the dust in the street as another loud pop echoed in the street. Pungent smoke rose from the barrels of both his pistol and Garmon’s. There were gasps from the crowd. Noelle put a hand to her throat as the reality of the violence brought the taste of the danger Jared was in into her mouth.
Sims didn’t feel the stinging pain for several seconds. He found himself sitting in the dust like a child, bleeding, dumbfounded, while everyone stared at him.
Garmon, bristling with confidence now, spun the smoking pistol into his holster and turned back to Jared, crouching slightly. “You’re next,” he said hotly. “Get a pistol or I’ll shoot you where you stand, Dunn. Unless you want to run, that is,” he invited.
Noelle held her breath while she waited for Jared’s reply, and he took his time giving it. Don’t, she was praying. Don’t, Jared!
“All right, Garmon. It’s your call,” Jared replied finally. He moved slowly toward Sims. His eyes never left Garmon. He wasn’t looking intimidated, and he should, Garmon thought curiously.
Jared bent, carelessly unbuckling Sims’s holster. He whipped it off and picked up the pistol. “Does it shoot true?” he asked Sims, and all the while he was still looking at Garmon, with eyes as cold as blue death.
“Yes,” Sims said, groaning.
Noelle, watching, gasped. “Oh, my God! He’s putting on that gun belt!”