by Conn, Phoebe
"Is it loaded?" she asked before touching it.
"Yes, of course. What good would it be if it weren't?"
Dominique removed it gingerly and slipped it beneath
the straw where it would be within easy reach should the need arise. "Let's keep it out of sight. Anyone who challenges us will focus on you, and with your hands empty, they'll not suspect they're in any danger."
Sean cocked his head to look up at her. "Do you really think you could shoot a man?" he asked.
"If I had to, yes."
"I don't want to miss that. Wake me before you fire."
Dominique jammed Sean's hat down over his eyes rather than promise that she would. She turned to look up at Belle, then thought better of telling her about the pistol when Belle would surely want to have it with her rather than Sean. Dominique regarded the omission as mere caution rather than a betrayal, but it bothered her nonetheless.
Then again, it was difficult to do any serious thinking seated in the back of an old wagon. She was used to riding her mare, or in a fine carriage, and bumping along the rutted road was nearly as uncomfortable for her as it was for Sean. Had she not been overtired, she would never have been able to sleep, but despite her best efforts to keep a close eye on her patient, and the road, she soon dozed off.
Expecting Falcon to appear at any minute, Belle kept scanning the sides of the road, but the sun rose high overhead without any sign he was near. He had said she would sense his presence, but she felt only hot and tired. She was also growing increasingly annoyed with Dominique, who was treating Sean O'Keefe as though he were a precious child when Belle was positive he did not deserve any consideration whatsoever.
Anxious to meet Falcon, she kept the mares moving along at an easy but steady pace. She wiped her forehead on her arm and reached for the jug of water at her side. She had just brought it to her lips when Falcon rode out of the pine forest and came galloping toward them. Bare-chested with his hair flying loose, he looked as savage as any Seneca brave ever born. Even knowing this was the man she called
husband, the sight of him charging straight for the wagon unnerved Belle completely.
As Belle yanked the mares to a sudden halt, Dominique was thrown back against their gear with bruising force. Sean was also pitched forward, driving his hat into Dominique's diaphragm and knocking the wind out of her. Violently jolted awake, each made a frantic grab for the other but before either recovered, Falcon leapt from Nails's back into the bed of the wagon. As the brave came toward them knife in hand, Dominique was unable to produce more than an anguished sob, but she leaned forward and crossed her arms over Sean's chest to shield him from harm.
"Get out of my way!" Falcon shouted.
Belle wrapped the reins around the brake handle and leaned over the back of the seat in time to see Sean reach for the pistol. Also dislodged by the abrupt halt, it lay just out of his grasp. "He has a pistol," she screamed. She dived over the back of the seat and lunged for Sean's arm to prevent him from using it on Falcon.
All four of them were in the back of the wagon now, Dominique struggling for breath to beg for Sean's life, Sean desperately trying to defend himself, Belle valiantly trying to protect the man she loved, and Falcon, thoroughly confused, not swinging his knife for fear he would leave a long, bloody gash in one of his cousins. Going after the pistol with a well-placed kick, he sent it out of Sean's reach, and bent down to pick it up.
"Thank you, Belle. Now take Dominique and get out of the wagon," Falcon ordered in a low, controlled tone. "I'll deal with O'Keefe."
Sean tried to sit up, but Dominique tossed his hat aside and tightened her hold on him. "No, Falcon," she gasped. "You'll do no such thing."
Falcon leveled the pistol at the Englishman's chest and smiled as a look of terrified recognition crossed Sean's face. "I see that you remember me. Good. He's mine, Dominique.
Now get out of the wagon. I don't want his blood splattered all over you."
"My God," Sean wailed. "You're Christian's brother." He looked up at Dominique. "You had this all planned, didn't you?"
Ignoring Sean's question, Dominique continued to argue with Falcon. "I won't let you kill him. He's left the army and he's so badly hurt he can barely stand. There can be no honor in killing a wounded man."
Falcon kept the pistol trained on Sean. "You must have heard how Tarleton treated Colonel Buford and his troops in May. How much mercy did they show our wounded?"
Dominique sent a frightened glance toward Belle, who was now hanging onto the back of the seat. They had both heard about the massacre, as indeed all of Virginia had. Colonel Buford had been in command of a regiment of Virginia infantry which had retreated after Charleston had fallen into British hands. Overtaken by Banastre Tarleton's British Legion, Buford had surrendered, but rather than take prisoners, Tarleton's dragoons had slaughtered all the Virginians in a brutal rampage that had left not merely Virginians, but every Patriot aching for revenge.
Recalling the details of the gory battle made Dominique as sick as she had become when she had first heard them. Tarleton's name was now synonymous with senseless, bloody murder. "This isn't Tarleton," she reminded Falcon.
"One murdering English bastard is as good as the next," Falcon replied. "Now get out of the wagon."
Dominique made no move to release Sean, but he reached up to pull her hands away. "Let me go," he complained. "At least let me die on my feet."
"Shut up!" Dominique cried. "No one is going to die here." She had never seen Falcon look so determined, but she had a tight hold on Sean and refused to release him. "I know Sean isn't worth keeping alive, but I don't care. You had your chance to kill him, and failed. I'll not give
you another when he's too weak to defend himself. You should be ashamed, Falcon. Have you killed other men who've been in such pathetic condition?"
Belle watched Falcon's dark eyes narrow and feared Dominique had made a grave error in taunting him. He was not only strong, but quick, and could yank Sean out of her sister's arms and slit his throat before Dominique even knew what had happened. When Falcon tossed the pistol over the side of the wagon into the dirt, she knew that was exactly what he intended to do.
"No!" Belle shrieked, Still standing in the bed of the wagon, she pushed away from the seat, and after nearly tripping over Sean's outstretched legs, she rushed toward Falcon and locked her arms around his waist. "Dominique's right," she begged. "He's not worth killing, and even if he were, you ought not to do it like this."
Falcon took a step back to balance Belle's weight and the wood beneath his feet creaked and groaned. "Like what?" he asked her, his gaze never leaving Sean's. "Like the savage that I am?"
Dominique's tears were dripping down onto Sean's face, and he thought it a ghastly coincidence that this was the second time he had nearly died in her arms. He lay very still, praying she and Belle had more influence over their heathen cousin than it had at first appeared. He could recall Christian clearly, but Falcon had been a handsome boy when he had last seen him, not this well-muscled brave with a demon's thirst for blood. The fact that Dominique had known Falcon had shot him made him wonder what other secrets she had kept from him.
He laced his fingers in hers and bit back the pain throbbing in his shoulder. He had escaped death too recently to face it again, but he knew any bargain he offered would only infuriate Falcon all the more and kept still. He had cursed Tarleton as an unprincipled bastard whose fiendish actions had tainted every British officer's name, but knew
it would be taken as a pitiful plea for his life if he repeated the denunciation here.
"Falcon, please," Belle begged. "Let him live and I'll never ask anything else of you."
"In the same situation, he would kill me," Falcon swore convincingly.
"No," Sean finally felt compelled to reply. "The war's over for me and even if it weren't, I'd not knowingly kill Dominique's kin."
Falcon was moved by the tears flowing freely down Dominique's face rather than Sean's
words. The creamy-smooth prettiness that had once made her so popular was gone, but in its place he saw a beauty and compassion that was far more appealing. Because the war had made equally great changes in him, he felt closer to her now than he ever had.
"Do you believe him?" Falcon asked Dominique.
In truth, she did not, but sensing Sean's life hung on her answer, she nodded. "Yes. I do."
Falcon turned to Belle. "Not another thing ever," he vowed.
Belle swallowed hard. "You have my promise. Thank you." Belle hoped she had not traded away favors she would need desperately later on, but for now, she was content with the bargain. She released her hold on Falcon, and he slid his knife into the beaded sheath on his belt
Falcon chose the Seneca language to mutter what he truly thought of Sean O'Keefe, then uttered a terse command. "We'll leave the wagon here. It's too slow, and can't be used on the route I want to take. I'll pull it off the road and unhitch your mares. You'll ride behind me, Belle, and O'Keefe can ride Ladybug."
Dominique wiped the tears from her eyes. "Do you feel strong enough to ride, Sean?"
"He rides, or he stays here," Falcon stressed coldly. He kicked open the tailboard and jumped off the end of the
wagon. "We have wasted too much time already." He reached up to help Belle down, but quickly released her and scooped up Sean's pistol, then strode around to the front of the wagon with her following close behind.
Dominique gave Sean a gentle nudge to lift his shoulders from her lap, but when he sat up and turned to face her, his expression was one of fury rather than gratitude for again saving his life. She raised her hands. "Yell at me later if you must, but Falcon must be obeyed, and quickly." She tried to move past him, but Sean took her wrist in a bruising
grip.
He nodded toward Nails. The horse was grazing on the tall grass at the side of the road. "You knew all along who rode that sorrel horse, didn't you?"
Dominique could have quibbled as to the exact moment she had become certain it had been Falcon who had shot him, but drained of emotion, she just didn't care enough to argue such a minor point. "Yes. I did," she admitted flippantly. "You accused me of being secretive. There's your proof, but that scarcely compares to your faults." She jerked her hand free and left the wagon before Falcon started it rolling into the woods.
She had lived with fright as a constant companion for so many days she did not believe she could endure many more. Shaken to the marrow, she had to sit down to rest while Belle and Falcon unhitched the mares. Rather than any sense of triumph at saving Sean, she felt numb. She had done what was right. She had absolutely no doubt of it, but the deed had brought no joy.
When Falcon knelt in front of her, she saw the same deep pools of sorrow in his eyes that she knew had to be reflected in her own, "Thank you for showing mercy to a man I know you despise. I'll find a way to repay you, but right now, I feel sick. Please give me another minute," she begged.
"You have it, but you must stay with us," Falcon warned.
"If O'Keefe falls behind, I'll leave him, but I won't leave you."
At that moment, Dominique doubted she was any stronger than Sean. "Yes, I understand. We'll do our best to keep up with you."
Falcon reached out to caress her cheek. She had lovely cheekbones even if they were freckled. "You've made a poor choice."
"I could have made no other," she confided.
Falcon looked decidedly skeptical, but rather than say so, he just rose and walked away, leaving Dominique to find her own way to live with it.
ttTTWHTrt
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and approached the fire. The brave walked with such a light step Sean doubted he would make a sound even in boots. Belle slipped her arm around Falcon's waist the instant he reached her, and Sean couldn't hide his disgust.
"What do women find so attractive about the Barclay savages?" he asked.
Dominique set the salve aside and rubbed in what remained on her fingertips. "Are you speaking of women in general, or Liana Scott?"
They were seated beneath a fragrant pine, and now that Dominique was finished with him, Sean leaned back against the broad trunk to rest. She was studying her hands rather than looking at him, and despite his anger with her, he sensed she had been hurt by his choice of topic. He received a brief burst of pleasure from that, quickly followed by sincere remorse.
"I can barely remember her," he confessed, "although she ripped a great hole in my pride. Do you have a handsome savage waiting at home for you?"
"No. There's no one waiting for me."
That wistful comment broke through all that was left of Sean's reserve, and he reached out to take her hand. "That's good, because I doubt I'd survive if he challenged me."
Dominique pulled free of his grasp. "That isn't funny, Sean. Death isn't a suitable topic for humor."
"Especially mine," he added. Clearly exasperated with him, Dominique started to rise, but he again reached out to stop her. "Wait. Why did you do it?" he whispered.
Dominique did not ask for a clarification of the question she had expected all day, but pro
vided only a noncommittal reply. "For precisely the reasons I gave Falcon: it would have been both cowardly and cruel to kill a wounded man."
Sean rubbed his thumb against her palm in a teasing circle. "I agree, and I said the same thing to Tarleton in much stronger terms. He might have called me out had there not been so many other officers who concurred. War is brutal
enough without the carnage he caused. I'll not miss the likes of him."
"Why, Sean, I had no idea you possessed such an admirable character."
Sean knew he deserved that, and did not resort to replying in kind. "And yet you've saved my life twice."
"I don't want you to feel obligated to me. Just don't make me regret it," she warned, and this time when she withdrew, he let her go. None of them felt like talking while they ate their meager supper, and Dominique did not need a suggestion from Falcon to go to sleep early. He and Belle cuddled together on the opposite side of the fire from Sean, and she chose a place off to the side to spread out her shawl. She had not missed sleeping on the ground, but here the dirt was padded with a thick layer of pine needles and nearly as comfortable as her cot.
A gentle breeze cooled the forest floor, and content for the moment, she had just closed her eyes when Sean stretched out beside her. "Find your own place to sleep," she scolded.
"Hush, or you'll wake Falcon and Belle."
Dominique had had no choice about sleeping near him in the hospital, and had not intended to continue the practice, but the last of her energy spent, she could not get up and move. When Sean slid his arm under her to pull her close, she resisted only a second or two before relaxing and resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm too tired to argue tonight, but I'll not make a habit of this once we arrive home."
"Of course not," Sean murmured against her hair, "but I don't think Ian would begrudge me a bed."
Dominique would refuse to share Sean's bed, regardless of where he found it, but the only protest that left her lips was a restless sigh that was far more seductive than forbidding.