by Linda Broday
Erring on the side of caution, she strode to the house and reached inside for Matthew’s old rifle she kept next to the door. It didn’t shoot very straight, but at least it might scare off the man. She set her jaw. If it did turn out to be Hiram, she’d aim for his privates this time.
Skye raised the rifle to her shoulder and was about to order the stranger to stop when he staggered and went down to his knees in the dirt.
For several long beats of her heart, he struggled to rise. At last, he made it to his feet and once more shouldered the weight of the saddle. She dropped the rifle and ran to help, no longer afraid that he posed a threat.
“Water,” he croaked when she reached his side.
Up close, his face resembled a piece of cooked leather. He stared at her with eyes that had glazed over from the heat.
“Let’s get you to the house, mister. Leave your saddle. We’ll come back for it.”
“No. All I have.”
“Fine.” She draped his free arm around her shoulders. “Lean on me.”
When they stumbled into the shadow of the sod house, he collapsed. His hat fell off, revealing hair the color of midnight. She tugged the saddle from his grasp and hurried to the well. Pumping water into a pail, she ran back and handed him a cup full.
“Sip slowly. Too much will choke you.”
The stranger paid no heed, gulping it down. He dipped the cup in the pail next to him and refilled it. Once more, he downed it in several big swallows. Then he dumped what remained in the bucket over his head. It ran down, drenching his hair and black shirt.
At last, he glanced up and croaked, “Skye?”
“Who are you, mister, and how do you know my name?”
“You don’t recognize me,” he rasped. “I’m not surprised. It’s been a few years.” He took a shaky breath. “Although, there was once a time I didn’t think you’d ever forget me.”
He looked vaguely familiar; something about those eyes the color of a deep silent pool of crystal water. The high cheekbones and set of his jaw resembled Matthew.
A jolt ran through her. She inhaled sharply. “Cade?”
A rough chuckle squeezed from his throat. “In the flesh. Where’s Matthew?”
“Don’t you know? He’s dead.” Her voice hardened. “I wrote. Asked you to come. You didn’t.”
Shock rippled across his face and pain darkened his eyes. He touched his stubbled jaw. “It would’ve been hard for a letter to find me. I … moved around a lot. But I’m here now.”
“And in a sorry state, I might add. You have no horse. The soles of your boots have holes. And I see the gun slung low on your hip. What’s happened to you? Where have you been? Why did you bother to come now?” Skye hated the anger and resentment that made her spit the words out like hard pebbles in a creek bed.
Cade’s anger flared as well. “I’ll answer your questions in my own good time. As for why I’ve come … I had nowhere else to go.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “If you want me to leave, say the word and I’ll move on.”
“Of course, I don’t. You’re Matthew’s brother.”
Skye gazed into those startling blue eyes that once made her dream, made her yearn, and made her want to move heaven and earth to have him lying next to her.
God help her! They still had that power.
But he’d abandoned her, told her the call of adventure was more important than her, told her to marry his brother. What kind of man did that? She’d learned a valuable lesson and she’d not give him a chance to hurt her again.
A sweeping glance took him in. She saw no hint of the gentleness in the man she’d once given her heart to beneath a full moon. A hardness as unyielding as the cold piece of iron in his holster had settled over him now. From his chiseled jaw and piercing gaze to the deep lines bracketing his mouth, he was someone she didn’t know.
An ache spread through her. Cade had died as surely as Matthew had. They just hadn’t buried him yet.
“It’ll only be for a few days,” he said quietly. “Then, I promise to be out of your life. Just let me rest up.”
A few days could be an eternity when tempted by his nearness and her need to be held again by strong arms, to feel a heartbeat next to her in the dead of night. Skye shoved the thought aside. This thinking would destroy her. He’d made it clear he wasn’t going to stick around.
“Where will you go?” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper.
Cade shrugged and worked to get to his feet. He spoke in a flat, dead voice. “One place is as good as the next, I reckon. Learned a long time ago not to get too comfortable.”
“What happened?” She needed to know, to understand. “Tell me.”
“I’ve done things.” He spread his legs as though bracing himself for a blow that would knock him to his knees. “I had to become someone else. I answer to Cade Coltrain now. In certain parts of the country my name strikes fear.”
“But why? Why do you want people to be afraid of you?”
“Didn’t seek it. Never. Just happened. You ask a lot of questions, Skye,” he said softly. “Be careful. You might not want to know the answers.”
She straightened. “Are you bringing trouble to my door?”
“Not yet. I’ve covered my tracks.”
A strangled sob rose up. It took everything she had, but she managed to swallow it back down. She’d not let him see her pain at what he’d become.
“Are you wanted?”
“Damn it, Skye. I warned you not to ask these questions.”
“I simply want to know what to expect.”
“Nothing. Don’t expect anything from me. I’ll only disappoint you.”
“You’re so different. What happened to the Cade I knew?”
Cade’s face hardened as though carved in stone. “He died. When I sold my soul to the highest bidder.”
~Chapter 2~
The shock on Skye’s face bruised Cade’s heart and scalded the back of this throat. Hell, why hadn’t he stayed away? He wanted to take her in his arms, kiss away the sadness and despair. He hungered for her so bad it made him tremble.
God, he’d been such a fool!
“In exchange for what?” she asked.
“Some folks need certain … abilities I have. And I’m very, very good at what I do.” Cade instantly regretted his harsh tone. He wore a hard granite shell and had since he’d killed his first man. Wasn’t anything he planned or wanted.
But watching the light go out in an adversary’s eyes and knowing he took it eroded something deep down inside where hopes and dreams and honor lived.
And that led to others and now he couldn’t stop if he wanted.
His life now called for split-second reflexes and living in the shadows one step away from death.
He doubted any of this would make sense to Skye. He had trouble reconciling it himself. Clearly, she missed the softness in the man she used to know, but Cade O’Rourke was dead and buried.
“You’re looking well, Skye,” he said quietly. “No kids?”
“A blessing I missed.” Her gray eyes met and held his.
Cade had no trouble seeing that life had been unkind to her. Cuts, some new and some scabbed over, on her hands came from constant toil, her fingernails broken. His gaze swept her curves, pausing at the unbuttoned dress that revealed the swell of her breasts. She was still a mighty fine- looking woman. He longed to undo the braid that snaked down her back and plunge his hands in hair the color of a flaming sunset, smell her sweetness. Kiss her until all the breath left their bodies and make mad, passionate love.
“I’m sorry. I remember how you used to yearn for kids.” He allowed a flicker of a smile.
“Have you eaten?” She focused on something in the distance, as though she already pictured him leaving.
“Not for a day or two. I’d be obliged.”
“I’ll have something ready by the time you wash up.” With those curt words, she turned and disappeared into the house.
He relea
sed a heavy sigh. A sweeping glance of the homestead took in the broken fences, little livestock and no crops. Could his brother have brought his bride to a more desolate godforsaken place? Everywhere he looked, he saw things that needed fixed.
Before she ran him off, he’d repair all he could and make her life easier. He owed her that. Murmuring low curses, he pushed away from the post that held up the slanted roof of the porch and ambled toward the well.
A short while later, he sat down at the table with Skye. The meal was simple. He wasted no time filling his plate.
“How far is your closest neighbor?” he asked around a mouthful of food.
“Six miles thereabouts.”
“And your nearest town?”
“Zapata is twenty miles. I only go every six months.”
“Makes for a lonely life.” Cade fought the urge to lean across the table and tuck a flame-colored tendril behind her ear. “How long since Matthew died?”
“Over five months ago. Why all the questions, Cade?”
He shrugged. “Want to get a feel for things is all.”
“You won’t be here long enough for that.”
“I understand why you’re angry and I don’t blame you. This wild country is unforgiving. Lord knows you’ve given it your all. But why do you stay? Why not pack up?”
“And go where exactly? With what? I don’t have anything but this god-blessed land and you can see men are lining up in droves to buy it.”
“I apologize. Didn’t mean to say you aren’t trying.”
She pushed back her chair and stalked from the house.
Cade ate the rest of the meal then went out to sit in the shade of the porch and regain his strength. He didn’t know where Skye disappeared to. Clearly, showing up out of the blue this way had thrown her. Deep regret weighed him down. He’d close his eyes for just a moment then figure out where to start making amends.
But he didn’t open them until the morning sun jarred him awake. He was still on her porch in the chair he’d dropped into. A light blanket covered him. He felt stronger. Getting to his feet, he noticed Skye working with the downed fence posts. He strode down to join her. He didn’t like the rotten feeling in his gut.
“Who pulled these posts up?”
“I never said anyone did.”
“Didn’t have to. I’ve got eyes. Someone yanked these out of the ground deliberately.”
“Stay out of it,” she said sharply.
“Matthew would want me to help. Who did this?”
“Why, so you can kill him?”
Cade winced. “So I can fix the problem. That’s what I do.”
“Let it go, Cade. You can’t always fight my battles.”
“I can this one.” He pulled her against him. “I’m not going to stand by and let anyone hurt you.”
“Fine.” Skye slumped as if all the air went out of her. “His name is Hiram Dunston.”
Rage grew as she told him about Dunston trying to force himself on her and now he was bent on destroying her. It was only a matter of time before the man killed her.
“Where does he live?” Deadly calm underscored Cade’s question.
“If I wanted to kill him, I’d have done that myself, Cade. I keep a loaded gun handy.”
He brushed a finger along her delicate jawline. “I’ve never been one to turn the other cheek. Where does he live? I’ll find out one way or the other.”
“In Zapata. He’s nothing but a drunk and a gambler. I can handle him.”
“I can see that.” He clenched his jaw. Watching someone bully a woman or child got to him quicker than rising flood waters on the Rio Grande. He’d deal with Dunston before he rode on. Men like Cade were good at that at least, if little else.
Taking the posthole digger from her, he gently pushed her toward the house. “Go do something easier. Make us some breakfast. I’ll take care of this.”
Cade removed his shirt and laid it aside, then tackled the job. He only stopped to eat. The sun beat down and sweat dripped off him. It felt good to use his hands, though, doing something meaningful. By the time the sun set, he had all the posts back in the ground and the wire restrung. He carried everything to the barn and washed up for supper then strode to the house.
Skye was dishing up red beans and cornbread. She turned when he entered. “Have a seat. I’m sure you worked up quite an appetite. I appreciate the help with the fence.”
“I’ll do more tomorrow.”
She didn’t mention his leaving as they ate. He guessed she wouldn’t toss him out on his ear. Not yet.
“Mind if I borrow your horse tomorrow? I need to ride into town and see about getting another of my own. I’ll pick up anything you need.”
“You can use the horse. Don’t get anything for me, though.”
He laid his hand on hers and she didn’t pull away. “If you had plenty of money what would you buy?”
* * *
Skye glanced down at his long, tanned fingers, remembering how they’d once caressed every inch of her body. Oft times, she’d remarked that he had a magical touch. Even now, a ribbon of pleasure spiraled down her spine.
Jerking her hand from beneath his, she spoke sharply, “This is a crazy game and ….” She inhaled a calming breath. “I’ll get you a blanket and you can sleep in the barn.”
Cade got slowly to his feet and reached for his hat. “Didn’t expect anything else.”
Returning, she tossed him a blanket. When he closed the door behind him, she moved to the window. The purple and orange sunset outlined his figure. Tall and lean, he had a fluid unhurried walk, like a stream meandering along its course. His corded forearms hung loosely at his side within easy reach of the Colt in his holster.
Cade Coltrain was a dangerous man. He’d always been someone to reckon with, but adding in the hardness that swept the length of him now he could put the fear of God in a man with only a single look. Violence was coiled inside him ready to unleash without warning.
In her heart, she knew the truth. He’d become a gunfighter and an outlaw who made his living killing people.
But, it didn’t matter. Nothing did.
A sudden need to be held in those strong arms washed over her. She rested her head on the thick window pane and swallowed down the thick, bitter regret.
Finally, the loud ticking clock reminded her she had dishes to do. Raising her head, she brushed away her tears. Glancing out the window once more, she found Cade standing beside Matthew’s grave with his head bowed.
What would he say to the brother who’d married the woman Cade had cast aside when adventure called?
She prayed he’d move on soon, before she gave in to the desire that created such a powerful ache in her body.
Oh, for once more to be held again, feel warm breath on her cheek; lay her palm on the hard muscles that rippled beneath the skin—make love until dawn. She couldn’t put a price on those but they were the things she’d buy, if only she could.
Skye needed to be a woman again. Someone cherished.
~Chapter 3~
When Cade came in for breakfast before daybreak, Skye had stacked clean clothes neatly in his chair. He caught her glance and lifted an eyebrow in askance.
“You and Matthew wore about the same size. Put these on and I’ll wash yours while you’re in town.”
“I appreciate that. They sure could stand freshening up. I’ve saddled your horse and will head out after I grab a cup of coffee.”
“I’ve cooked eggs. You’ll eat them.”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am. Anyone tell you you’re bossy?”
“They didn’t dare.”
His heart turned over when she smiled back. He suspected she’d had no reason to smile in a long time, and was glad he could do that small thing for her.
Roughly two hours later, Cade rode into Zapata, Texas. He went straight to the livery. With luck, he could trade his services for a horse. The liveryman’s eyes lit up when Cade inquired about work. He’d busted his leg and co
uldn’t do more than hobble around on a crutch.
“I’ll swap that four-year-old buckskin out in the corral and two dollars if you’ll muck out the stalls and do odd jobs for me,” the liveryman bargained.
“Seems more than a fair trade,” Cade agreed.
After finishing, he collected the horse and his two dollars and went to the mercantile. No matter what Skye said, he knew she had needs. Selecting a smoked ham, he turned to the women’s portion of the store. A pretty chemise made of soft linen caught his eye. He had the clerk wrap that up along with a nightgown of the finest cotton and set out for the homestead.
Though it took his last cent, he considered his purchases money well-spent.
* * *
With Cade gone, Skye hauled water from the well and got ready to do laundry. When she picked up his shirt, a gold locket with a broken chain fell out of the pocket. Curious, she pushed the clasp.
On one side was her image. Cade’s sat opposite.
A wounded cry sprang from her mouth as she gripped the locket. Her heart beat wildly.
Memories came unbidden. He’d given it to her six years ago when they’d lain beneath the stars and dreamed of a life together. The broken chain was no surprise. When he’d told her he had some living to do and that he wouldn’t settle down anytime soon, she’d been deeply hurt. But then when he added that she should marry his brother Matthew who’d been after her for months, that had utterly destroyed her.
In a fury, she’d ripped the locket from her neck and thrown it at his retreating backside.
Now, she clutched the necklace to her and allowed tears to fall, crying for the love she could never forget no matter how hard she tried.
A love she could never have.
A love he’d possibly given to another.
Yet, the keepsake evidently meant a lot to him. He’d kept it all this time, over the many miles he’d traveled. That was something, seeing as how he could number each of his worldly goods on one hand and have two fingers left over.