by Jill Gregory
And she had repaid him by running off the moment his back was turned, disappearing with Gray Feather and forgetting all about him.
Sitting there, with Wade beside her once more on the sofa, she felt a stab of remorse so powerful, it made her head hurt. She had to speak to Cole. Alone. And without delay.
In the back of her mind she heard Tommy say, “I reckon we’re in your debt, Rawdon. You’ve taken good care of our little sister.”
And then Cole was straightening his hat, coming toward them, speaking in that cool way of his. “No trouble. Anything I can do to spoil McCray’s day is fine with me.”
“Well, we’ll handle McCray and his men,” Tommy assured him. “No one will have to worry about them again when we’re through.”
That made Cole pause. He stared into the tall young man’s face with a look of warning. “You and your brother had best stick to taking care of Juliana,” he said very deliberately. “That bounty is still out on her head and until you clear that up, she’ll be a target. Leave McCray—and Knife Jackson—to me.”
Then he was walking toward the door, leaving—without even glancing her way.
She sprang off the sofa in a flash and blocked his path, a golden slip of a girl with a spine tight as a steel rod. “I need to talk to you outside, Cole. Alone.”
His expression as he stared down at her was distant and polite, as though she were a stranger he had just encountered in a shop or along the street. “Our business is finished, angel. You found your brothers—that’s what you wanted. They seem pretty capable of keeping you safe. Now it’s time for me to be moving on.”
His casual words cut her to the quick, until she realized that this too was part of his facade, part of that wall he built up around himself. She willed herself to remember the tenderness in his eyes when he had caressed her last night, when he had held her and made himself a part of her and she a part of him. “No, it’s time for me to apologize,” she said, taking his strong hands in her small, slender ones and pulling him toward the door. “Come on. I’m not going to humble myself in front of all these men.”
“Juliana.” Gil Keedy loomed suddenly at her side. There was a fervent desperation in his face. Beneath the shock of red hair she read three things: jealousy, concern, and a deep yearning. No, Gil, she thought sadly, save all that for Josie, whoever she might be. I want one man and only one. And if I don’t prove that to him, he’ll walk out that door and leave me forever.
“Gil, this is between me and Cole.”
“Let him go, Juliana. I’m begging you,” Gil urged in a low tone. “He’s trouble. You don’t need him anymore. We’ll take care of you now ...”
She saw the quick flash of anger spark in Cole’s eyes as he stared at the other man, then he quenched all emotion and jerked his hands from her, his lips tight. “He’s right,” he drawled evenly. “Adiós, Juliana.”
“Out! Everybody out!” Juliana ordered suddenly, whirling toward her brothers and the other men. “If Cole won’t step outside with me, we’ll have to talk here. Leave us for a while!”
Yancy guffawed at the sight of this slender female issuing orders like many a general he’d seen during the war. Gray Feather grinned and sauntered toward the door, while Skunk elbowed Gil in the ribs, then hustled the red-faced cowboy across the room.
“Hold on, Juliana,” Tommy began, shooting Rawdon a suspicious glance, but Wade clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go, Tommy boy. Our very determined little sister has spoken.”
“You’re going to leave her here alone—with him?”
“Yep.”
The anger rising in him at being made the object of ridicule by every grinning man present, Cole stared at Juliana with murder in his eyes. “What’s to stop me from walking out that door with the rest of them?” he demanded in a low tone.
It was Wade, overhearing, who answered him from the cabin door. “Won’t do you any good, Rawdon. You can’t leave anyway. While we were talking, I had Skunk hide your horse. You’re not going anywhere until my sister gives her permission.”
And with that, he shoved Tommy out the door before him, then slammed it shut behind them both, laughing into the Arizona night.
Juliana reached out a hand toward Cole’s cheek, but he brushed it away.
“Say what you have to say and get it over with. I’ve got work to do and if you think I’m hanging around here to play nursemaid to you one minute longer, you’re wrong. Dead wrong.”
“Is that what you think I want?” Her chin lifted, and fury danced in her emerald eyes, but then, remembering her goal, she tried to swallow back her own anger. “Cole,” she said softly, soothingly, placing a hand on his arm. It was corded with muscles beneath his black shirt, but she thought she felt it quiver at her touch.
“The least you can do is to let me apologize.”
“For what?”
“For breaking my promise. For not coming back tonight to tell you I’d found my brothers. I know it was awful of me, but we were so excited to be reunited, and there were so many things to discuss and settle between us—”
“Look,” he interrupted, his voice raw, “that’s real nice about your brothers. I’m glad for you. You’re back with them where you belong.” She had started caressing his arm, rubbing her fingers back and forth lightly, provocatively, and it was having a damned strange effect on him. He felt his insides go from tight and knotted to something else ... something like melting iron. Damn her and her tricks.
Suddenly he reached out and seized her by the wrists. “That fellow Keedy. He’s right about me. I am trouble. More trouble than you can imagine.”
“So am I.” She tossed her head, sending a wayward wisp of curl tilting over one eye. “At least that’s what you’ve been telling me all this time. I reckon that means we’re a good match.”
“You’ve got me wrong, Juliana. I’m not the kind to make any kind of match.” Cole felt sweat breaking out on his brow. She looked so beautiful, so fragile and sweet. He had to use all his willpower to keep from reaching out and smoothing that golden tendril back from her brow, from yanking all those pins from her hair and letting the entire pale mass of it spill like fool’s gold into his hands. He wanted to clasp her in his arms and never let her go. But that would be the worst thing he could do. He had to say good-bye to her forever.
Cole knew with bleak certainty that he wasn’t the type of man to settle down. He wasn’t the type ever to find the kind of peace and contentment she’d be looking for, that she deserved. Better she should stick with her brothers, and maybe eventually marry Keedy or someone like him—not a man who’d lived his whole life alone, who’d mastered the art of not needing anyone, not trusting anyone. He could never make her happy. Disaster followed him—and so did death. There was no way out of the violent cycle of his life. Deep down, Cole knew he was fated to an existence of brutality and danger. Juliana had been running from such violence ever since she was a child and had lost her own parents. She needed someone who would protect her from pain and difficulty, not someone whose entire life had been a chain of violence and confrontation, who had learned to survive by being more deadly, more ruthless, more dangerous than any opponent he might encounter. Juliana would want a house with curtains on the windows, and a garden, a place with books and matching china dishes—and babies. He couldn’t give her that. He could only give her trouble.
“Look,” he said as evenly as he could, trying to keep the pain that was tearing at his guts out of his voice, “I know you think you owe me something because I got you out of Plattsville. You don’t. I did it because I wanted to do it, and you don’t need to understand my reasons. But it’s over. Wade and Tommy will take care of you. I’m going to take care of McCray.”
The pile of daisy petals floated in her mind once more. He loves me not. Could she be so very wrong? Was she making an utter fool of herself? Desperately, Juliana searched his face.
He looked as cool, as handsomely, ruggedly detached as he had that day in Denver when sh
e’d fainted in his arms. It wasn’t at all the way Gil Keedy looked at her, or the way any of the young men in St. Louis had looked at her. It wasn’t the way he’d looked at her last night. But she didn’t know how to bring that tender expression back. It seemed to have vanished forever.
Because I submitted to him. He was curious about what it would be like to make love to me, and we were all alone at the cabin, and it happened. But it meant nothing to him. I mean nothing to him, except as something, someone he had to see safely disposed of. And now he’s done that, so he’s leaving.
A thousand jagged splinters seemed to pierce her heart. The anguish made it nearly impossible to breathe. She studied his lean face with an aching gaze, trying to memorize every line and angle, the strength and courage she read in his eyes, the kindness buried deep beneath the steely surface. There was a tightness in her throat so painful, Juliana couldn’t swallow, and she was afraid she was going to cry. She searched in her mind for something to say, something that wouldn’t betray her own foolish dreams any more than she already had, and her distraught mind came up with something idiotic and totally unrelated, but she blurted it out anyway.
“You ... you said you would bring me back a surprise. M-may I have it ... before you go?”
She wouldn’t cry in front of him, nor in front of Wade and Tommy. She wouldn’t. She would behave ... in a sophisticated manner. She would let him go without bawling like some pathetic, drooling fool.
Standing there, seeing her in that elegant pale green gown that emphasized the emerald vibrance of her eyes, Cole thought of the cheap Mexican peasant skirt and blouse he had bought from Joseph Wells’ housekeeper this morning. The woman had a daughter about Juliana’s size. The skirt was brightly colored, a gay, pretty thing, and the plain white blouse had a scooped neckline with a tiny edging of lace. He had also bought from the girl some red and yellow hair ribbons, and a slim gold bracelet. Gifts for Juliana. The first gifts he’d ever bought for a woman.
But they were silly, secondhand offerings. He hadn’t wanted to venture into the nearest town, for it would have meant leaving Juliana alone too long, so he had planned to bring back those few trinkets for her as a surprise. He had even imagined her wearing the clothes and the bracelet and the ribbons in her hair while they had supper, sweeping gaily about the cabin with the skirt twirling about her legs, making it seem more like a home than a place of hiding. And then afterward, he had anticipated the enjoyment of removing each article of clothing with leisurely pleasure ...
But here she was in the Montgomery gang hideout, dressed in a gown so fine and exquisite, it made little Lucita’s skirt and blouse look gaudy and cheap by comparison. Juliana wore earbobs, too, he observed, his chest tight, pearl pieces that were lovely and expensive—gifts apparently from her brothers. When he thought of the paltry items in his saddlebag, items only half a day ago he had thought would delight her, he felt as foolish as a puppy begging for crumbs.
“I couldn’t get you the surprise,” he told her. He tried to let go of her shoulders but found himself gripping them even more tightly. “Sorry, angel.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Juliana tried to smile. Tears threatened behind her eyes, and she was waging a tremendous struggle to keep them back. “Where ... will you go now?”
“I’ll head back to Plattsville and find out from Knife Jackson where to find McCray. Then I’ll settle up with both of them.”
“Don’t,” she begged suddenly. The fear that slammed through her heart made even the anguish seem dull by comparison. “Just ... go away. Go to ... New Mexico or Texas. I’m going to get Wade and Tommy to take me away from Arizona, too. Then none of us will have to worry about McCray or John Breen or anyone anymore ...”
“I learned a long time ago, sweetheart, that running never leaves behind the trouble. It always follows you.”
“That’s not true. I ran away from John Breen, and escaped.”
“You didn’t escape. You got caught by me. And you’re still a target for some other bounty hunter who’d try to bring you back to Breen so he could collect the. reward.”
“Then maybe I should go back and face him,” Juliana said slowly. The thought of it made her stomach churn uneasily, but she was completely serious. “Maybe”—she licked her lips as the idea grew in her mind—”I should get rid of John Breen and those ridiculous charges once and for all.”
No! Cole wanted to shout. Stay away from Breen. I want you safe. It shocked him how dearly he wanted to protect her, to keep her far from any possible harm. “Maybe Wade or Tommy could confront Breen—and force him to give up the search.” Even as he said the words, he knew that he should be the one to do it. Suddenly her welfare, her protection, seemed to be the only things in the world that mattered. Not Fire Mesa. Not even evening the score with Jackson and McCray. Only staying near Juliana and making sure that no one and nothing harmed her.
Something must have shown in his eyes, some glimpse of the powerful emotions possessing him, for her lovely face lit up, the light dusting of freckles making her look adorably like a child, a child who has been promised a rare treat, and she clasped her arms around his neck before either of them realized what she was doing.
“Cole, you do care about me, don’t you?” she breathed. “You’re afraid of what might happen if I fell into Breen’s clutches.”
Somehow he found the strength to disentangle her arms from around his neck. “I reckon I feel somewhat responsible for you,” he admitted, struggling for words. “The same way I feel responsible for my saddle and my horse....”
“Your ... horse?” The seed of hope that had bloomed magically inside her only a moment before withered and died a swift death. Her eyes were wide with dismay, and she felt as if she were choking. “Your horse,” she repeated dazedly, humiliation burning into her cheeks.
“I mean ...” Cole found himself stammering like a schoolboy. Confound her and those mesmerizing eyes anyway! “I mean that I couldn’t leave Arrow saddled and lathered up and out in the middle of a storm somewhere, could I? And I can’t leave you, I reckon, until this McCray business is cleared up.” He was pleased with his comparison; it made perfect sense to him. “I’m beginning to see that I’d better stick around and help your brothers deal with this—and then make sure Breen doesn’t bother you anymore. If your brothers venture all the way to Denver, someone’s likely to lock them up. I’ll have to go with them.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“The man suckered me into something that wasn’t any of my business by offering that sky-high bounty on you. Now I’m making it my business to set things to rights.” It sounded convincing enough. Hell, it almost convinced him that that was all there was to it. He’d take care of McCray and Breen and then he would leave. Ride out of her life for good. He’d be able to do it, Cole told himself, when he knew there were no more threats hanging over her head—and when he was certain those brothers of hers would give up their outlaw life and look after her the way she deserved.
“That’s most kind of you.” Juliana stepped back from him, then turned and walked toward the stove. Warmth still emanated from it, seeping out into the rough corners of the cabin. She realized she was shivering. The mountain air was cool, biting right through the silk of the dress. Or maybe it was her heart that was cold, she thought dully—cold and dead.
She had given Cole Rawdon every opportunity to tell her he loved her, even that he cared about her, and he had only admitted that he felt responsible for her—in the same way he felt responsible for his horse. The hurt of it flared inside her like pricking needles. She had thrown herself into his arms, she had practically thrown herself at his feet, and he had calmly told her she meant nothing more to him than his damned horse.
Fine, then. She had been wrong, wrong about everything between them. Her woman’s instinct had betrayed her after all. He loved her not.
“Of course, my brothers and I will pay you for whatever work you do on our behalf. I have money in my pouch—” She bro
ke off. “I left it at the cabin.”
“I’ll bring it here tomorrow.”
“You’re going there, to the cabin? Now? Alone?”
Despite himself, he grinned in the darkness. “I’m a big boy, angel. I’m not afraid of the dark.”
“How much money do you want—for helping me?”
Inwardly, he groaned. Nothing, he wanted to shout as he recognized the hurt expression on her face, and realized how hard she was trying to appear detached. He had hurt her, even though he’d never meant to do it. He wanted to enfold her in his arms and kiss her until neither of them could breathe, until she could never again mistake exactly how he felt. But he knew now what he had to do—convince her that this was just business, that he was doing a job for ‘pay,’ discharging a responsibility that would also line his pockets, and then maybe she’d forget about him and stop whatever foolish daydreams he had encouraged her to begin. Maybe she’d look to a man who could give her the steady, safe life she needed, the children and home she wanted. He couldn’t. It wasn’t in the cards for him. His fate was a life of solitude and danger, a rider of the plains and mountains, hunter of men—dealing out and being dealt trouble.
“Maybe you didn’t hear me.” Her voice was trembling, but her face was rigid in the moonlight bathing it. “I asked you how much money you want to help me.”