by Jodi Thomas
‘‘Can he talk?’’
‘‘I don’t know.’’ Kora faced the doctor. ‘‘My mother tried everything to make him come out of his prison. When first my father died and then Dan came home like this, the light went out of her eyes.’’
‘‘But she still had you and your sister?’’ Gage reasoned.
‘‘Girls weren’t as important as a son. I tried everything to please her and Jamie rebelled, but in the end all she saw was Dan. The night she died, she cried for her son, saying over and over how much she loved him. She never said a word to the two daughters at her bedside.’’
‘‘There are homes for veterans like him.’’
‘‘He has a home with me!’’ Kora answered sharply.
Gage looked down at his food, embarrassed by his boldness. He shoved a biscuit in his mouth and mumbled after a minute, ‘‘If I could find a woman who could cook this good, I’d be a married man. Winter is a lucky fellow to have found you.’’
‘‘There is more to being a wife than cooking,’’ Kora said, hoping Jamie’s chances wouldn’t be zero when the doctor tasted her meals. Coffee was the limit to her skills in the kitchen.
‘‘I know what you mean.’’ The doc leaned back and downed the last of his breakfast. ‘‘I was married once, about ten years ago while I was still in school. She was an angel God called home far too soon to my liking. I’ve thought of tying the knot again a few times since, but somehow I’m still married to her. Even now, after all these years, when folks ask me if I’ve got a wife, I have to think a moment before remembering. Being married is a feeling that doesn’t wash away with the tears at the funeral.’’
He looked at her with kind eyes. ‘‘You were a widow, I understand. You must know what I mean.’’
Kora reddened and looked down. She felt like an impostor. How could she tell him she’d married a stranger on his deathbed just because she’d read his letter and thought he had a farm? Anyone who heard the story would hate her for being so selfish. She hadn’t even stayed for the funeral, but left when the sheriff told her Andrew was beyond hearing anyone but the angels.
Kora had tried to do the right thing. She’d paid the doctor and the undertaker from Andrew’s money. Even leaving enough for a headstone to be made. Then she packed Jamie and Dan and left on the first stage heading north. Andrew’s letters said he had no family, so she wasn’t taking from anyone, and she thought she was giving them all a chance.
‘‘I didn’t mean to cause you pain, Mrs. McQuillen.’’ The doctor stood. ‘‘I’m terribly sorry.’’
Before she was forced to answer, Jamie opened the door.
‘‘Kora,’’ Jamie whispered instead of shouting for once. ‘‘May I have a word with you?’’
Thankful for the distraction, Kora excused herself and hurried to her sister. ‘‘What is it?’’
‘‘That husband of yours has every man on the place marching double time. He’s even stationed Logan in the foyer with enough weapons to hold off a small army.’’ Jamie looked frustrated. ‘‘There’s not a soul to go riding with me. I even asked the gambler eating his way through a month’s worth of groceries, and he claims he hurt his shoulder and can’t ride.’’
‘‘You could sit with Cheyenne,’’ Kora suggested. The one thing Jamie never allowed herself to be was bored. If they didn’t think of something, she’d find trouble. She always did.
‘‘Oh, Kora, you know how I’d hate that.’’ Jamie glanced over at Cheyenne. ‘‘If he’s asleep, it will be so boring and if he’s awake I’ll probably kill him within an hour if I have to talk to him. Let Dan bring his chair back up and sit with him. He’ll offer as much conversation as the man needs.’’
Kora stepped out in the hallway and started down the stairs. ‘‘I don’t see how I can solve your problem. I know better than to suggest cooking or cleaning.’’
‘‘We’ve got an idea,’’ Jamie followed her down. ‘‘Wyatt and me.’’
‘‘Wyatt?’’ Kora glanced at her sister.
‘‘The gambler. He’s really a nice sort.’’ Jamie was suddenly bouncing with excitement. ‘‘We could take the doc’s buggy into town. Wyatt said he’d show me around, and we’d be back long before dark. I could handle the reins so he could baby his shoulder.’’
Kora looked at Logan, who’d been eavesdropping from the foyer. The old man shrugged.
‘‘But Winter said-’’
‘‘Winter said I couldn’t leave alone. I wouldn’t be alone. Besides, Wyatt says he’s an excellent shot. But trouble won’t come. Wyatt and I aren’t involved in this range fight. Why would anyone want to bother us?’’
Kora watched at Logan again. The old man raised his gaze to her and shrugged once more. He was offering no help.
‘‘All right, but be careful.’’
Jamie and Wyatt left as soon as he could hitch the team and Kora could pack a lunch for them. She didn’t feel right about her sister going, but she couldn’t think of a reason to say no.
After they left, the day passed in a maze of work. She helped the doctor take care of Cheyenne, cooked, and tried not to worry. Logan talked constantly, trying to convince her that all was well, but the uneasiness in the back of Kora’s mind would not leave. The ‘‘witchin’ luck’’ Jamie always teased her about was drawing near. Every time she settled down and thought life would smooth out, something happened.
It was long past suppertime when Winter rode in, muddy and tired. He’d just stepped on the back porch when Kora met him at the door.
‘‘Jamie’s not back,’’ she said as his ‘‘evenin’ ’’ died in the air.
Winter took a deep breath. ‘‘Where’d she go?’’
Kora didn’t want to tell him. She could feel the anger in his stance rippling the air between them. He’d probably think it all her fault, as it was. Jamie might think she was full grown, but she didn’t have the common sense of a jackrabbit in a thunderstorm. Kora was always the logical one.
‘‘She left for town hours ago with Wyatt. They promised they’d be back by dark.’’ Kora twisted her hands together in near panic. Jamie was always late and unpredictable, but this was different. Someone was shooting at riders on Winter’s ranch. This time she could get hurt, and Kora had given in against her better judgment just to avoid a fight.
Suddenly his large hand covered hers, stilling them with his grip. ‘‘I’ll find her.’’
Without another word, he turned and signaled several men to follow him. Silently the tired men swung back into their saddles.
Kora stood on the porch and watched him adjust his hat as he moved toward his horse. His stride was long and powerful, filled with anger. The soft jingle of his spurs did nothing to lighten the mood as he led his men back out into the night.
The cloudy night had turned ink black without moon or stars. She watched until the last rider disappeared, then listened in the silence, straining to hear them returning.
Only the sounds of the night greeted her.
‘‘He’ll be all right.’’ Logan startled her with his words from the kitchen door. ‘‘You’ve no need to keep watch. Win’s a survivor, no matter what.’’
‘‘I know,’’ she whispered, wanting to believe. ‘‘I thought he’d yell at me for letting Jamie go.’’
‘‘He knows you did what you thought was best. And he knows Jamie.’’ Logan bit into a brown square of tobacco. ‘‘I’d be surprised if he ever yelled at you.’’
Kora tried to see the old man clearly in the darkness. ‘‘Why do you say that?’’
‘‘You’re his wife. For Winter that means you’re a part of him.’’ Logan smiled and mumbled as he moved back into the kitchen. ‘‘Like bone and blood.’’
Kora paced for an hour. Every little sound made her jump. Finally she heard horses approaching and ran for the door.
Logan stepped in her path. ‘‘Hold up there!’’ he warned. ‘‘Best let me take a look first. Might be trouble riding in for a visit.’’
But
as he opened the door, Jamie stormed through kicking at invisible blockades in her path. Her hair was wild and her clothes windblown.
Before Kora could say a word, she yelled, ‘‘That wild, half crazy husband of yours ruined my evening!’’ She attacked the stairs. ‘‘I should have known he was short on brains when he introduced us to his horse. Most men introduce a bride-to-be to the family.’’ She stared down at Kora, as if blaming her for marrying Winter. ‘‘For a man promising to help me find a mate, he’s certainly doing his part to see that I become an old maid. Keep him out of my sight, or I swear, I’ll cut him up so small he’ll be good for nothing but chicken feed.’’
Kora followed as fast as she could, but Jamie’s pants made maneuvering the stairs far easier than Kora’s dress. ‘‘What happened? You said you’d be home before dark. Jamie, I was worried.’’
Jamie reached her bedroom door. ‘‘Ask that bossy bully you married what happened. I’m going to bed!’’
Slamming the door, she ended Kora’s questioning.
For a moment Kora stood at the door waiting for her sister to answer. Jamie had always been high-strung and wild, but usually she was able to talk to Kora at least. Whatever Winter did must have been pretty bad.
Suddenly the old fires flamed up. Someone was picking on her little sister. Kora couldn’t stand by and allow that to happen no matter how much Jamie had asked for it. She ran down the stairs and past Logan before the old man could say a word.
The night was cold and the wind whipped at her skirts almost knocking her down, but Kora marched straight to the barn. By the time she was inside, the weather had taken the edge off her anger.
Winter had unsaddled his horse and was putting the gear up when she found him. He’d shoved his hat far back on his head and smiled as she approached.
‘‘What happened?’’ Kora forced herself to give him the benefit of a doubt. Maybe Jamie had overreacted. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Winter looked at her closely. ‘‘I found her,’’ he said simply. He wasn’t about to tell Kora in what state he’d found Jamie and the gambler.
‘‘But she’s very upset. Did you embarrass her?’’ Kora asked as they moved to the tack room.
‘‘I reckon I did,’’ Winter answered. ‘‘But I didn’t lay a hand on her, so don’t look at me that way.’’
‘‘I didn’t say you did,’’ she countered, embarrassed that he’d guessed what she’d been thinking.
‘‘You were worried, and I brought her back. If I have any more words about tonight with anyone, I think it’ll be with the gambler.’’ He turned to Kora. ‘‘Right now all I want is a meal and bed.’’ Before she could step away, he caught her wrist and pulled her to him.
‘‘And this,’’ he whispered. ‘‘I’ve been thinking about you all day. If you’re going to be angry with me, you might as well have reason.’’
His head lowered slightly as his hand moved into her hair at the back of her neck. He cradled her head as his lips brushed hers.
Kora was so shocked she didn’t move. She’d tasted his lips before, but only when he was asleep. Now they moved against her mouth, making a kiss completely different from the ones she’d stolen.
His arm tightened around her waist as he drew her into the length of him.
Logic told her she should pull away. They were in the middle of a discussion. They’d agreed to wait. If she let him too close, he might learn her secret and hate her for the impostor she was.
But logic didn’t win the battle raging in her body. She didn’t want to stop. The hunger in his kiss fascinated her. She hardly knew this man, yet somehow she understood his need.
The kiss deepened as he met no resistance. He dropped the bridle he still carried and almost lifted her off the ground with his hug. His mustache tickled her cheek as his warm mouth moved over her lips.
A low, longing sound rumbled from his chest to his throat as if the taste of her filled a need he’d been starving for.
Hesitantly she touched his shoulders and felt the power of this man she’d married. Despite the bands of muscle around her, she had the feeling Winter was holding back. She guessed that if she pushed on his chest, he’d let her go, just as she could turn her head and break the kiss. But his lips were soft against hers and his arms felt more like protection than chains.
Her fingers slid over the soft leather of his jacket and touched his throat. Day-old stubble tickled her fingertips as she brushed her hands along his jawline.
Winter straightened slightly, ending the kiss but not the embrace. ‘‘I need a shave and a bath.’’
She timidly slid her fingers over his cheek, trying to get used to the feel of him.
He moved her an inch away, his hands firm around her waist. ‘‘That was inconsiderate of me, Kora. I’ve got a layer of trail dust on me and probably smell like my horse. I had no right to grab you and kiss you like that, but it’s been on my mind.’’
His words might be an apology, but there was none in his eyes. Kora had the feeling he might repeat his actions once more before he could finish apologizing. This was a side of Winter she hadn’t seen.
She couldn’t help but smile. He was trying to be considerate even though she could see the hunger in his eyes for more. ‘‘I didn’t mind.’’ The words were out before she thought to stop them.
‘‘You-’’ Winter started.
‘‘Well, I did!’’ A low voice cracked like thunder from the darkness beyond the tack room. ‘‘I happen to mind a great deal!’’
Winter pulled Kora close as he lifted his Colt and pointed it into the blackness. ‘‘Step out!’’ he ordered. ‘‘Identify yourself.’’
A man stepped into the shadowy light of the barn’s lantern. He wasn’t very tall and even in several layers of clothes looked thin. He raised his hands to shoulder height. ‘‘Don’t shoot. I ain’t got a gun. Didn’t figure I’d need one to come a-callin’.’’
‘‘Mister, you’d better give me a good reason for being on my land, and make it fast.’’ Win didn’t lower his Colt. ‘‘Any stranger that comes sneaking in after dark had better be quick on explaining.’’
‘‘First, I didn’t sneak in and second I ain’t a stranger. I made deliveries here all last summer. I could find my way around this place on a moonless night. I came in a few hours ago and decided to wait for you. I must have fallen asleep over there in the hay.’’ He made a hacking sound as though something were thick in his throat. ‘‘I hadn’t planned on going up to the house until morning, but you two came out to me. I couldn’t very well just stand around and watch you handle her, not once I heard her name.’’
The fellow moved a step closer in an awkward gate that nursed an injury.
Kora could smell whiskey on him. She pressed a fraction closer to Winter as she looked into the dirty face of a man who seemed vaguely familiar. Though his eyes were dark brown like Winter’s, his were lifeless and cold, not full of fire and anger. His hair might be blond, if washed, but now hung around his face in straight hunks of brown.
‘‘I’ll thank you to let go of the lady.’’ The stranger lifted his chest as if to make himself more powerful. ‘‘In fact, step away from her all together.’’
Win didn’t move. ‘‘What do you want?’’
The stranger took another step closer, and suddenly he looked determined. ‘‘I want ta talk to Kora alone.’’
‘‘I don’t think so.’’ Win widened his stance. He glanced at Kora. She held her head high, but she slipped her hand between his rib cage and elbow. ‘‘My wife doesn’t seem to wish a conversation, sir, so I have to ask you to leave.’’
‘‘Not without her!’’ The stranger’s words were angry. ‘‘And she knows me well enough. She’s my wife.’’
Kora screamed and the man’s image found its place in her memory. The stage robbery, the dying man, Andrew Adams!
ELEVEN
WINTER SHOVED A CLEAN SHIRT INTO HIS SADDLEBAG. ‘‘What else?’’ He said the words with s
uch controlled anger, his hand shook slightly. ‘‘Or should I say who else? A husband who’s still alive seems a little more important than telling me you’re left-handed.’’
Kora didn’t answer. He continued to fill his bag and mumble to himself. ‘‘I’d kill this one, but another one might turn up next week. Who knows how many exhusbands you’ve got wandering around?’’
‘‘I didn’t ask you to marry me,’’ Kora answered from where she stood by the windows. She’d followed him from the barn without saying a word. She knew he needed, he deserved an explanation, but she wasn’t sure what to say. Anything she said would only make him think less of her. She moved farther away but didn’t leave the room.
Win’s gaze scanned the area. Her face was in shadows as it had been the night they met. He remembered what a mouse he’d thought she was. He was surprised she wasn’t hiding away somewhere now. She’d always seemed so afraid of him, yet when she finally made him furious, she was sticking as close as a newborn calf.
‘‘That’s right,’’ he said more to himself than her, ‘‘you didn’t ask me to marry you. I’ve no one but myself to blame. I walked into this mess sober and plenty old enough to know what I was doing.’’
He made another trip to his dresser drawer. ‘‘I took on playing matchmaker to that hot-blooded sister of yours and agreed to having a mute brother wandering my house at all hours. I even agreed to the in-name-only part for a while, thinking I was being kind. But this I won’t stand for. I won’t put up with a man walking onto my land and demanding my wife go home with him.’’
Kora pressed her cheek against the window. ‘‘I didn’t go, did I?’’ She felt suddenly ages old and very tired.
‘‘No, you didn’t. Which surprised me after all the mourning I thought you were doing for the man.’’ Win swung his saddlebag over his shoulder and took a step toward her. ‘‘And even in the poor light I don’t think you recognized him until he said his name. What kind of marriage did you two have, anyway?’’