His father stood up with a fixed expression on his face. "You never change. I thought when they sent you west you would learn some hard lessons, but you haven't."
"And you will never change. You still think the true measure of a man is how well he performs in battle and how many enemies he can kill."
"And it is the true measure, as far as I am concerned."
"Then I am your man, General. I can command troops and ride into battle with the best of them. I have a chestful of medals for deeds you would call heroic-what does that tell you about me as a man?"
"We'll discuss this later, when you are more rational. I never can talk to you when you get like this."
Jonah turned his head away. He heard the heavy footsteps as his father stomped out of the room, leaving the door open. The one thing that never changed was his father's attitude toward his only son.
He closed his eyes, knowing that when he was well enough to travel he would be leaving.
A short time later he heard Abby's laughter in the hallway, and it swept through him like a cleansing wind, leaving him without enough air to breathe.
He heard soft footsteps and watched the door, his heart pounding. A light knock on the half-open door brought hope. He pulled his shirt together, although it could not be buttoned because of the bandage. "Come in."
Patricia appeared in the doorway. She tried not to be embarrassed by the sight of the dark hair on his chest. "How are you feeling?" she asked, inching closer.
He swallowed his disappointment. "Very well." He held his hand out to her, knowing it was expected of him. "How was your journey?"
She had hoped he would show joy in seeing her, but the smile on his lips did not reach those razorblue eyes.
"It was interesting and without incident." Her hand slid into his, and she sat in the chair beside his bed.
Patricia wore a rose-colored gown that fit her to perfection. Her hair was swept upward and held there by an onyx clasp. "You are lovely, as always."
She blinked, wishing for more from him. She withdrew her hand. "I was here earlier, but you were sleeping. Abby was sitting beside you."
There was an urgency in his tone. "Where is she now?"
The truth of her suspicions was reflected in the intensity of his eyes when he spoke of Abby. "I believe she just went into the kitchen to help Frances with the evening meal. Shall I get her?"
"No." He forced a smile. "I'm sorry for receiving you in this condition. It isn't the way I intended your arrival to be."
She touched his forehead with a soft kiss. "Your father told me that if I am to make a proper officer's wife, I must be prepared for the unexpected."
He took a deep breath, and she could tell he was in pain.
"I'll just leave you for now. Perhaps you will feel stronger tomorrow."
"Yes," he said tersely, "I should be strong enough tomorrow to get out of this bed."
"But surely that is too soon."
He smiled. "I was far worse off when I arrived, and I had come a long way to get here."
The house was dark and quiet; everyone seemed to have gone to bed. Jonah lay in the darkness, wishing he could take back the cruel words he had said to his father. It was always the same with them. They had never agreed on any given subject, and it was probably his fault as much as his father's.
He wondered what Abby was doing, and why she had not come to see him while he was conscious.
He heard someone in the doorway, and he could clearly see her slender silhouette. He could smell the soft scent of honey, so he closed his eyes, hoping she might approach him if she thought he was sleeping.
He felt her beside him and reached up and clasped her wrist. "I have been waiting for you."
She didn't try to move away. "How' are you feeling?"
"I don't want to talk about that. We have a decision to make, you and I." His fingers slid between hers. "Did you read my note?"
His chest was bare but for the bandage, and she wanted so badly to touch his skin. "Of course I did."
"And?"
"You have no decision to make at all. I tore it up.
He pulled her down to him, and she came willingly. His lips touched and molded to hers, sending a jolt through her like an earthquake, and the tremors that followed were like aftershocks. He lightly touched her hair, and she wanted to be even closer.
With painful resolve, she eased away from him.
"Abby, don't turn away from me. I am trying to do the right thing."
"I like Patricia, and she loves you very much."
He released her arm. "Yes. II know that. Just tell me this one thing." He probed her eyes. "Are you..."
She already knew what he was agonizing over. He had written her the note because if she were with child, he would marry her. She wasn't, and she was glad. She would not want to marry any man under those circumstances. "I am fine. You don't have to worry."
She heard his relieved sigh. "Good night, Jonah."
He didn't answer her or try to stop her from leaving.
The sun was just rising when Jonah got out of bed and struggled to dress himself. The most difficult part was putting on his boots, because his shoulder ached. And he couldn't button his shirt at all. He was glad when MacDougall heard him stirring and came into the room to help.
"How are you feeling, sir?"
Jonah grimaced. "Like I've been shot."
MacDougall buttoned the shirt for him. "Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?"
"I might be weak, and my shoulder hurts like hell, but I don't want you mothering me, Sergeant save that for your new recruits, who will be arriving at the fort any day now."
MacDougall almost smiled. "Do you want me to get back to the fort?"
"Wait another day, and I'll go with you."
MacDougall would have liked to have told him that one day wouldn't be enough time to rest that shoulder, but he saved his breath, because the major would do what the major wanted to do.
The two men made their way to the kitchen, where Frances greeted them with her usual gruffness and served them a hearty breakfast. Jack and the general came in just as Jonah was having his second cup of coffee. From the looks of them, they had been up and about for some time.
Jonah couldn't help comparing the two men. They were an unlikely pair, and as different as two men could be, but they seemed to have found a common interest in horses.
Patricia came in later and was delighted to see Jonah up and dressed. She sat beside him, just needing to be near him. She politely refused the huge breakfast Frances placed before her and asked for a cup of tea.
"I have been thinking about leaving tomorrow, Mr. Hunter," Jonah said. "I have taken advantage of your hospitality long enough."
Frances glared at Jonah. "You don't need to be going off till you're better. Next week would be soon enough."
"That's what I wanted to tell him," MacDougall said.
Frances stared down at the sergeant. "He'd already be healing if you hadn't let him ride so far after being shot."
"Ma'am, you must not know how it works in the army. You see, the major here's in command, and I take his orders. Those below me in rank take my orders, but I would never-never-tell the major what to do."
Frances was still glaring at the man when she left the room, and mumbling something about "ruling the roost" under her breath.
"Now that's one scary woman, Mr. Hunter," MacDougall observed.
"You haven't seen her riled yet this is one of her good days," Jack said, smiling.
"Admirable woman," Daniel Tremain concluded.
"Jonah," Patricia asked, "will I be staying here or leaving for the fort with you?" She wondered why he hadn't talked it over with her. She hadn't even known he was leaving until now.
He looked at a loss for a moment. His quarters at the fort were a shambles. He hadn't taken the time to move into them, and had been occupying a cot in his office. "You will have to give me a few days to make the quarters livable. There is a hotel in Dia
blo. I had made arrangements for you and the general to stay there. I hadn't known Quince would be bringing you here to the HalfMoon."
Patricia lowered her head. He hadn't known she would be at the ranch. It had been Abby he had wanted to see. She took a breath of air as the realization hit her: Jonah was in love with Abby.
"I won't hear of you staying in that flea trap," Jack interjected. "You will stay where you are for now. We've got plenty of room, and Patricia has become a friend to my Abby."
Patricia wanted to return to Philadelphia that very moment, but she couldn't not yet.
"General?" Jonah asked. "Is it all right with you to stay here?"
"Thank you, Jack. Patricia and I would like to stay. We can join my son later."
Jonah stood. "I am going to walk out to the barn. I need to get out in the fresh air."
Patricia watched him leave, wishing he had asked her to walk with him.
Abby was grooming the mare she had trained for Patricia when Jonah entered the stable. She glanced up at him and paused with the currycomb in her hand. "Should you be out of bed?" She frowned with concern. "I know you shouldn't be moving around this soon. You might reopen the wound."
Without a word he stepped close to her, took the currycomb and dropped it on the ground, then gathered her to him. "I have to come to you because you won't come to me. I want to hold you in my arms."
She muffled a sob and buried her face against his neck. "This isn't right, Jonah."
He clasped her face in both his hands and raised it to his so he could stare into the eyes that still haunted him. "I have always done the right thing, and everything that was expected of me." His finger slid across her mouth. "Until I came to Texas. Until I met you."
"Jonah, I know the kind of man you are, and I know you feel responsible for what happened between us. I told you then, and I'm telling you now, I was as much to blame as you were. I don't want you to have any regrets."
"Regrets... I'm full of them."
She turned back to the mare and picked up the currycomb, making wide strokes across the animal's back. "I feel guilty when I see how much Patricia cares for you. If I could take back what I did, -I would."
He grabbed her and hauled her to him, his expression hard, his eyes glinting. "How can you say that?"
She pressed her hand against his arm, remembering his injured shoulder, but his mouth ground against hers and robbed her of all resistance. She pressed against his body, feeling the hardening of his need for her, and it awoke an answering need in her.
She felt, rather than heard, him groan. She had no substance without him, and it seemed she was even drawing her breath from him.
He broke off the kiss and stared at her. "Add that to the list of things you want to take back-I certainly can't."
She felt his warm breath on her hair, and she was weak with need. "We both know what your feelings are for me," she said, forcing the words past her trembling lips. "You have the same feelings as Moon Racer when a mare is ready for him."
She watched as he digested what she had told him, and his fierce blue eyes turned icy.
"Yes," he said at last, looking away from her. "That's what it is between us."
She stared down at the toe of her boot. She was losing parts of herself, and she was no longer sure who she was. Life had been so uncomplicated before Jonah came along. Now it was a struggle just to stay out of his arms. It was her fault that the situation had gotten out of hand-she could have put a stop to it before it got this far.
He brought his gaze back to her. "Do you really believe it's only lust between us, Abby?"
She had sensed the guilt in him, and his feeling of obligation toward her. She imagined that he would feel the same obligation toward any woman whose virginity he had taken. She ached because of what she must say to him, and she hoped she sounded convincing. "Don't look back with regret because of what happened between us, Jonah. If it hadn't happened with you, it would have been someone else."
She watched him flinch as if she'd struck him. After the initial shock of her words passed, he glared at her, and her spirits plummeted. She lowered her glance so he wouldn't see the pain she felt.
Then with controlled discipline, he stepped away from her. "I wanted to tell you that I'll be leaving tomorrow."
The coldness of that reality hit her hard. She had known he would be leaving as soon as he was able, but not this soon. "Have someone look at your wound when you get to where you are going."
She watched him struggle with whatever he was thinking. At last he spoke in a voice so cold and un feeling that it cut her to the bone. "Your father has invited Patricia and the general to stay on for a few days. Is that all right with you?"
"Yes, of course."
"Well, then. I probably won't be seeing you again."
She concentrated on brushing the mare. "When will you give her the horse?"
"Today."
Abby nodded. "She won't have any trouble with this mare."
She could feel him behind her, and she knew he was deeply troubled, but she could be of no help to him.
After a long silence she heard him turn, and then the sound of his bootsteps faded from the barn.
Abby quickly saddled Moon Racer and rode away, allowing him to run full out she had to get away from the ranch. She didn't want to be there when Jonah gave Patricia the mare, and she didn't want to sit down at the table with them and try to chew on food that would choke her. She found herself heading for the Diamond C and Quince. When she got there they were dipping stock, so she stayed to help them until the sun went down. Then her brother had one of his men accompany her home, because he did not want her riding alone after dark.
When she reached the barn, Navidad was waiting for her.
"Everyone has been looking for you this day, Senorita Abby. The major, he has come here to find you two, maybe three times."
"I'm tired, Christmas. I've been helping Quince today. Will you unsaddle Moon Racer for me?"
"k." He looked at her curiously. "The major gave his senorita the mare today, and she was so happy. She hugged him plenty and was happy that you had trained the mare for her."
She walked toward the house. "I'm going to bed, Christmas."
Frances had left a lamp burning in the hallway. She blew it out and then moved quietly past Jonah's bedroom door so he would not hear her. Through the walls of her bedroom she could hear his pacing, and she wondered what could be going through his mind.
She sat back on her bed and then sank into its softness. She knew she should bathe, but she was just too weary. She had not meant to fall asleep, but sometime after midnight she awoke and undressed.
It was hot in the room, and she turned her face to catch the breeze from the open window. She thought of Jonah so close, and yet a world apart.
Was he sleeping?
If she went to him, what would he do?
He would be leaving in the morning, and that would be best for both of them.
Abby was awake when Jonah left in the earlymorning hours. She heard him moving about in his room, and she recognized his bootfall as he moved down the hallway. She heard him open the screen door and let himself out and then close it softly behind him.
Every nerve in her body screamed for her to run to him so she could feel his arms around her just one last time. But she lay stiffly against her pillow, willing herself not to move.
She heard Patricia's soft voice and the mumble of Jonah's deeper tones; she didn't want to hear any endearments they might exchange, so she clamped her hands over her ears.
There was no one she could go to for advice. If Iona were alive, she would empty her heart to her. There were Glory and Crystal, but if she confided in either of them, they might urge her to talk to her brothers, and she would never do that.
She dressed and left the house, the gray, windy day doing nothing to lift her spirits. The first drops of rain fell just before she entered the barn. She stopped short when she saw her father saddling his horse, with
his dog, Catfish, jumping about his feet.
"I expected you up earlier," Jack said as he took her saddle from her and placed it on her pinto. "I didn't think you would let the major leave without saying good-bye."
"I didn't want to see him."
Her father slipped the bit between her pinto's teeth and handed her the reins. "Didn't you?"
She looked up into his face. "I don't know what you mean."
"This is the first time I've ever known you to be untruthful."
"In what way?"
"Abby, Abby it's at times like this that I wish your mother were here."
She gave him a shake of her head. She didn't want to talk about her mother with him. Their attention was drawn to the dog, who was chasing one of the barn cats. When he cornered it, he wagged his tail and bounced around as if he wanted to play. The cat would have none of it and skittered up the ladder to the hayloft.
"Don't you think I've noticed the looks that pass between you and Jonah?" her father asked. "Hell, I'd have to be blind not to see the tension between the two of you." He gripped her shoulders. "I've never seen a man look at a woman the way he looks at you."
She felt a deep and sudden concern. "Did anyone else notice? I mean, Patricia or Jonah's father?"
"They may have missed it. They don't know you as well as I do, and as a father I may have been watching closer than anyone else."
"I would never want to hurt Patricia."
He leaned against the stall and looked at her. "If she loves Jonah, she's going to be hurt plenty. I saw the stiff way he said good-bye to her this morning, and I also noticed that she was crying when she went into the house."
Abby put her hand over her mouth, and her father folded her into his arms. "I don't know what to tell you, Abby. But I'd warn you to be careful where the major is concerned. He's not like you and me."
She heard the patter of rain on the roof, and she felt the comfort of her father's arms around her. "I know, Papa; he once told me that very thing."
"Then you should believe him."
"I'll never see him again. I can't."
He planted a kiss on her brow. "If only it were that easy. But you can't walk away from your feelings, Abby. You have to face them. I had plenty of time to face mine in prison."
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