Gage called up to him from the path below Ben’s cabin. “I’m here.”
His head swung slowly, focusing eyes lit with fury as Gage came into view. He held Jenny before him like a shield, the buckskins making a slash of lightness against the black of Gage’s clothes. She strained against him for freedom, but he tightened his hold. Any pain he felt was lost upon seeing Gage’s long, narrow fingers slip around her slender, arching throat until he grabbed her chin and forced her head high. His laughter was soft and chilling and his eyes were locked on Charmas.
“She came for you, Charmas. She ran, but came back for you.”
“Let her go, Gage. She’s not a part of this.” His gut wrenched at seeing Jenny’s terror-stricken eyes dilating wide till they were black pits. It was all he could see, although he knew he shouldn’t be seeing them at all. Not with Gage this close. Gage whispered to her and Charmas couldn’t stop himself from staggering down the steps, stopping when Jenny cried out and then stilled.
Gage watched him, smiling that cold smile that had been so much a part of him since Charmas had turned his back and left him so long ago. “No, Charmas, you’re right. She’s not a part of it. You tell that old man to stand clear and then I’ll let her go.”
For the space of a heartbeat, Charmas thought about trusting him and yet, even as his mind denied it, his hand motioned behind him for Ben to stay where he was. “He’ll stay out of it, Gage. Now let her go to him.” He spoke firmly, no hint of his rage revealed, and set his gun into his holster waiting for Gage to obey him.
And Gage let him wait. Charmas was wounded. Gage saw the thick pad at his shoulder and the long jagged line of blood on his other arm. He looked at Prado sprawled on the ground before him. His grip on Jenny tightened.
Charmas burned with savage fury in his helplessness. How he longed to be able to take her into his arms and wipe out her terror. But he dared not make a move for Gage could so easily kill her. Then sanity came and, whiplike, his voice and words taunted Gage.
“Do you need a woman to hide behind now? Is that what I taught you during those days so long ago, Gage? Have you forgotten how hard I tried to teach you to be a man?”
The wildness in his gaze coated his voice as Gage shouted back, “You ran. You ran out on me, Charmas. I know why you ran, too. She made you go. You couldn’t tell your old man his wife wanted you and not him. She wouldn’t stay away from you and you couldn’t stay with me. So you ran, Charmas. Now will you run from me again? I thought about that so many times. Will you?”
“Let Jenny go, Gage, and you’ll find out,” he ordered softly, beginning to move down the path.
And once again, Charmas softly ordered, “Let her go, Gage. Come to me as a man.”
Gage heard his stepbrother’s softness again along with the stinging lash of his hate. With a curse, he flung Jenny aside.
Charmas moved to grab her before she hit the ground. Gage brought his gun up fast as Jenny, with a cry, tried to ease her fall.
“Don’t touch her, Charmas, or I’ll kill her now.”
And Charmas smiled into the chilling cold of his voice and the gleaming, feral light of his yellow eyes. “You can’t, Gage. It would be over too fast and that’s not what you want.” He moved toward Jenny; and the soft click of the hammer being cocked warned him before the first shot came. He stilled. Rock bits splayed at his feet.
“I warned you, Charmas. Don’t touch her.”
But Charmas didn’t listen to his warning or to Jenny’s pleadings as she managed to push herself to her knees. And once again Gage fired.
“You’re still only warning me, Gage. I ain’t taking it.” Leaning down, he reached for Jenny, hardly breathing when he heard the deadly sound of the hammer cock once more. “Take my hand,” he ordered. “Gage isn’t going to shoot me or you. That’s not what he wants.”
His soft but firm voice made Jenny take his hand. It was bruised and blistered and rough but nonetheless a haven when her fingers closed around it. Her legs were unsteady, but she had Charmas to lean on as he helped her to stand.
Then the softness was gone. He faced Gage, ignoring the small groan that came to him as Jenny tried walking up the path toward Ben. Very slowly, he raised his arms till his hands were held out from his sides. “You want to shoot, Gage, now’s your chance. But I’m telling you that if you don’t kill me now, I’m gonna tear you apart.”
He started for him, eyes watchful, lips thinned with the knowledge of what he had to do. Gage studied him, for the first time seeming unsure. He fired at Charmas’s feet, but Charmas kept on coming. With a bellow of rage, Gage dove at his midsection, using the butt of his gun and his head like a battering ram. He felt satisfaction at hearing Charmas’s breath explode with pain from his blow. His knee came up, catching Charmas on the chin, sending his head snapping back, and then he angled away.
“I’ve learned a little more since you knew me, Charmas.”
It was as if the blow had released all the bitterness and savagery within the two of them. Charmas dove at Gage. His fist caught him in the ribs and he saw Gage’s jaw go slack with the pain. Charmas caught Gage’s blow on the comer of his jaw, that slammed him to the ground. His head bursting with lights, he heard the sound of Gage’s boots coming at him and barely managed to roll from the kick he intended for his ribs.
“Get the hell up!” he ordered through gritted teeth. “You ain’t dying this fast, Charmas. And not this easy. Get up!”
The slightest narrowing of Charmas’s eyes warned Gage, and even before he turned his gun was drawn. “Get back,” he warned Ben, whose rifle was leveled at his gut. His gun was now on Jenny, who was standing by the rail of the porch, one hand stifling her screams. “I’ll kill her unless you stay out of this.”
“You kill her and you know I’m gonna shoot you, Gage,” Ben threatened.
“Maybe. But it’s me and him first. I’ll take my chances with you later.”
Ben still hesitated, trying hard to measure the wiry, black-clad man in front of him. He was defeated and he knew it; the look of a cunning animal, the chilled smile of a killer, told him that. Gage would kill her.
Then Charmas mumbled, “Go on, Ben. Stay out of this.”
Gage didn’t wait. He fired one warning shot that splintered the wood rail and sent chips flying near Jenny. Ben dropped the rifle and backed away until he stood at her side. Gage nodded, slowly holstering his gun. “See you stay there, old man. He wants this as much as me.”
Charmas came to his knees slowly, shaking his head groggily to clear it. Gage, behind him, waited till he was standing and they circled each other warily. Gage feinted to his right and Charmas stepped in close. Gage threw his punch and Charmas dropped under the blow to whip a wicked jab to his midsection. Gage grunted with pain and caught Charmas on his open wound, causing him to stagger back. Their breathing was thick and rasping. Charmas staggered back time and again, barely able to keep his fists up. Gage sailed into him, until he drove Charmas to his knees again.
Charmas felt himself fall, tried to stop the momentum, and saw Gage come at him and grab his throat with his left hand, bringing his right fist back for another blow. He barely saw it coming and raised his right arm to ward if off. His taunting voice sounded more like an animal’s growl as he held Gage back.
“Finish it, Gage. Kill me. Kill me now and with me all the love I had when I called you brother.”
The precious seconds gave Charmas the chance to butt his head, still ringing from the blows he’d taken, into Gage’s stunned face. He staggered back now, his nose smashed and bleeding. With a bellow of rage, Charmas rushed him, needing to finish it quickly. Swinging both fists, Gage had no chance to back away. There was no chance to evade the driving force of Charmas. He was savagery in pure form, never there when Gage tried hitting back. Gage swung and landed another blow to Charmas’s bruised body. Charmas came up charging again. Only his own weakness saved him from the blow Gage let loose at him. He swayed
dizzily and Gage’s fist barely glanced off his shoulder. Half blind with pain, fury still erupting, Charmas felt Gage close in for the kill now.
He heard Jenny screaming his name over and over and drove his knee into Gage’s face when he came at him. Now he sprang for his throat. Those scarred, blistered fingers dug into skin and sinew. Slowly using the last ounces of strength he had, Charmas forced Gage to his knees.
Every breath sent stabbing agony inside him. His vision cleared, and he heard the choked sounds coming from a long distance to reach his pounding ears. And he looked down, really looked down, and saw Gage. Gage’s fingers were digging into the raw flesh of his wrists, trying to pull free. And Charmas saw again the shy open smile of a young boy who once loved him.
In that moment, all the love and times they had shared came rushing back. He didn’t realize his grip had loosened somewhat. His eyes glazed over, seeing a small hand offered to him in trust. He remembered the boy’s pain and confusion at his leaving and his own shameful need not to tell his reasons. And he slid his hands away slowly and looked at them, too.
The days of killing came back in a blaze of blood before him. The days he thought he’d left behind him too many times, only to find they were still locked in his memory. He thought of his hands holding Jenny and gently touching her in silent offering of himself. And he knew he would never touch her again if he did this.
“Get up, Gage,” he cried hoarsely. “Get the hell out. Now!”
He held himself away from thought and feeling and sight and sound. Charmas receded inside himself till he knew no one, nor where he was. Sinking to his knees, he buried his face in his hands, tasting his sweat, his blood, and his tears. He didn’t know it was the ground rushing to hold him as he pitched forward.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Major Michael Allison turned away from watching the scene in front of the sutler’s store. Jenny had finished supervising the loading of the supplies she and Robby would need for their new home. In turning, his gaze slid briefly over Charmas, who was sitting on the edge of his desk staring across the room from him. Six months had healed his wounds. He looked fit again, but his eyes held no gleam of light and Michael was too aware of what had put the deadness there.
“It’ll be different once you’re settled in the new place, Charmas,” he offered impulsively. “She’ll have time to forget.”
“Will she, Michael? I hope so. I never thought that after she agreed to marry me, I’d be the one having a hard time giving her what I promised: patience and time.” He ran one hand carelessly through his hair. “Maybe it ain’t such a good idea to take her up there.”
“Why not?” the major asked, coming to stand alongside him. “Charmas, she’s been here all winter while you’ve worked that valley to build her a new home. She’s excited about it. She told me so last night after supper. You’ve talked to Gran Salinas and she agreed it was best for Jenny and the two of you to be on your own. And I told you, Jenny talked of you often all this time.” He paused as Charmas looked up. Michael caught the longing in his eyes, but it was veiled instantly. “Well, she did,” he reaffirmed. “And she wanted to know about Mave and Sean, too.”
“And you told her?”
“Why hide it, Charmas? It’s over now. I was able to make her understand how close you’d been to Sean and how, when he was killed, you had to find the men who did it. I explained and I even apologized for treating her so callously when she came here pleading for your release. I told her I couldn’t trust her knowing Mave was only part of the lure you spread to catch them. She didn’t believe me at first. I had quite a time convincing her Mave was like a sister to you. Your Jenny is a stubborn woman.”
“Yeah. I’d be the first to agree with you there.”
There was grief in those words, and Michael had to stop himself from bringing it all out in the open. Gran Salinas had told him, of course. He knew how hard Charmas had tried to break down the wall Jenny had put up between them. But he was also aware of the pain it caused him when she flinched if he tried to touch her. Shaking his head, the major wondered if he could have that much love for a woman to be content to wait until she came to him on her own. Obviously, Charmas did, and that gentle extension of the man he knew still surprised him. Surprised him enough to say, “Are you sure there is nothing I can do to help? Perhaps if I spoke to her?”
“Michael, I …” His voice broke, and he turned away, shaking his head. “Sometimes,” he began again, swallowing a deep, painful sigh, “I wish she’d cry or even, well … even be a child enough to still allow herself to dream. Maybe then, Michael, maybe then she would heal inside. But when I see the pain in her eyes it … it tears at me. She makes me helpless. And all I can give her is time to learn to trust again. To trust me.”
It was all he could say, for his throat closed, choking from too many emotions whirling in his mind. Jenny. His woman, wild and free, sweetly loving and gentle. Jenny. If he could recapture her spirit, he would have the world. Jenny was love … and Jenny—his Jenny—didn’t want him to touch her.
“They still saying good-bye out there?” he asked curtly, refusing to think about what he couldn’t change.
“Gran’s hugging Robby so much, it’s a wonder the boy’s still in one piece,” Michael answered, having taken up his position by the window. “He cares a great deal for you, Charmas.”
“Now, Gran, stop fussing so. We’ll be—” Jenny stopped. She closed her eyes and, without turning, knew Charmas was near. He had come back for them just as he had promised. Emotions twisted inside her. She tried to forget Jonas, but the mere thought of being vulnerable to a man again, even a man like Charmas, frightened her. An involuntary shiver passed over her and Gran’s warm hand rested on her arm.
“Don’t remember, Jenny,” she whispered softly, noting Charmas and the major coming nearer. “You promised me that, girl. Don’t let the memory come back. Charmas is a good man, Jen, who loves you. All you need is time for your own love to come again.” Gazing at her thin face, the dark shadows marring her eyes, Gran forced a smile. “It’s spring, honey. It’s a time for new life to begin. Let that happen for you, too.”
Jenny didn’t answer; she couldn’t. They had talked often these past months since Charmas had left her here. She knew Gran was right, the words made sense; but Gran didn’t understand how the fear came to her. She had not forgotten she had married Charmas, given her vows, and still had to fulfill them. Her hope was drawn toward it being somehow different now that they would be alone in a new place. No, she gently chided herself, not a new place—a new home. Charmas had built it, and it would be strong against the cold and winds and rains that would come. Just as Charmas was strong against all that came.
“It’s time to leave, Jen,” he softly reminded her, not daring to make a move closer. She was so incredibly lovely, standing there with the sunlight playing over her face. She turned toward him then, her smile shy. He could offer only a smile of reassurance for the questions he read in her eyes.
Michael scooped up a laughing Robby and lifted him into the cluttered back of the buckboard. Charmas’s buckskin was tied to the back of the wagon and Robby nestled between boxes and barrels.
Gran lifted the basket at her side and handed it up to him. “Now, you remember to take good care of Kitten. I kinda hate to see her go, seein’ as how she and me become such good friends, but you see to her well, boy.”
Charmas smiled over Jenny’s head, and she turned to see Michael Allison raise his hand.
“Sergeant Bovina,” he called out crisply, “I believe it’s time.”
The rotund man came around the comer of the store at a brisk pace, carrying an identical basket to the one Gran handed Robby. He nodded to Jenny and handed his burden to Charmas.
“Another surprise?” she queried softly, feeling flushed with the warmth of the smile he bestowed on her.
“For Robby this time,” he returned. “A promise I made him.”
A
tiny yipping sound gave his surprise away before Robby’s shout of glee. The boy grabbed for the basket Charmas held up to him. He could barely get the top open before being licked by the squirming brown puppy.
It was some minutes before Jenny realized she was crying. Charmas had one finger on her cheek, catching the glistening drops. “Don’t,” he leaned close to whisper. “I can’t stand to see you cry, Jen.”
“But I’m happy,” she protested, surprised he couldn’t see that. “I…” Whatever she had been about to say was lost in the promise of his hazel eyes lightening to the softest shades of gold. Suddenly aware of the others all watching them, she hurriedly wiped her eyes, backing away from him.
Jenny was the only one that missed the slight tautening of Charmas’s mouth. Climbing onto the seat before he could help, she caught herself up in farewells and listening to her son’s excited chatter of his plans for his new puppy once they reached home.
The slight bouncing motion of the wagon lulled her as she sat beside Charmas. She looked back once and then no more. For better or worse she was going with him and giving him her complete trust. She prayed she hadn’t chosen wrong this time. She had no strength left to fight.
They headed north under the seeping warmth of that clear spring day. Charmas seemed content to ride along in silence and Jenny found herself reluctant to talk now that they were alone. It was silly, she chided herself, to feel shy with him, and yet that was how she felt. Her eyes were drawn time and again to his hands holding the reins lightly but firmly. They were strong hands, scarred and callused. She thought of the times they had held her, their touch gentle. Her eyes slid away as he shifted his grip to guide the horses around a deep pit in the trail they followed. Six months had passed slowly without him near, and she was hungry for the mere sight of him. Sensing her gaze, his handhold tightened, but Jenny didn’t stop. From the strength of his wrists to the curling light hair on his arms, she drank her fill, noting the sudden knotting of the muscles beneath his shirt. She’d never forget the long days it took to heal him. Her eyes closed, her mind drifting back to the days before the horror began.
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