by Connie Mason
Closing the door softly behind her, Dawn slipped down the back stairs. The livery was but a short distance away. Within a quarter of an hour she was on her way.
Cole tried to relax but couldn’t. He worried that he hadn’t convinced Dawn that he loved her. What would it take to make her realize she meant everything to him? He glanced at Sandy, noting that his friend was as edgy as he was.
“Perhaps we should have that talk while we’re waiting for Dawn,” Cole suggested. “Exactly what is there between you and her? Why did you propose, and why did she accept? She flat out refused my proposal.”
Sandy sent him a disgruntled look. “You abandoned Dawn. You gave her scant hope for a future with you. For God’s sake, Cole, you forced her to leave Dodge City against her will! Why? Was it for your own selfish purposes?” He shook his head. “I just don’t understand you.”
“I told you why I took Dawn away from Dodge. I planned to leave her with Running Elk, but circumstances made it impossible. I couldn’t in good conscience leave her there, with all the trouble brewing on the plains. The Indians were on the warpath. My protective instincts run deep where Dawn is concerned.”
“It wasn’t your protectiveness that got her with child.”
Cole flushed. “You know about that? It was a mistake. Dawn never knew how deeply I grieved when she lost our child. I’m glad you know. Now you understand why I feel responsible for Dawn.”
“Do you love her?”
“Deeply. I realized how much I cared shortly after I left Oregon City. It was too long in coming, but I’ve finally accepted Morning Mist’s death. She’s part of my past, remembered and loved, but finally laid to rest. She will never interfere with the future I intend to share with Dawn. I want to marry Dawn, to settle down and have children with her. But now Dawn doesn’t believe me.”
“Do you blame her?”
“No. I blame myself.” He stared at Sandy, suddenly wanting answers. “What are you doing in Oregon City? What does Dawn mean to you, and why in the hell did you propose to her?”
“After the home office informed me you’d resigned your job, I felt at loose ends. Without you as a partner, the job no longer held the same appeal. I decided if you liked Oregon well enough to stay, I’d like it too. I turned in my resignation and took the next train west.”
“You’ve answered only half my question.”
“I’ve grown extremely fond of Dawn. Fond enough to want to protect her.”
“Is that why you asked her to marry you? Seems like a flimsy reason to me.”
Sandy sent him an oblique look. “Did Dawn say nothing to you?”
“About what?”
Sandy was silent so long Cole felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. He felt it in his bones. And whatever it was, Sandy seemed loath to reveal it to him.
“Spit it out, Sandy. What is it you’re hiding?”
“If Dawn wanted you to know, she’d tell you. You did spend the night in her bed, didn’t you?”
Cole was puzzled at the accusatory note in Sandy’s voice. “I don’t deny it. Nor do I deny asking Dawn to marry me. She refused. She said she was going to marry you. What in the hell is going on?”
“Dawn refused your proposal?” Sandy asked, aghast. “Dammit, Cole, she couldn’t have been thinking clearly. The only reason I asked her to marry me was because …” His sentence fell off and he dropped his gaze, refusing to look Cole in the eye.
“Go on,” Cole gritted out. “You may as well tell me. You asked Dawn to marry you because …”
“This should come from Dawn.”
Frustration made Cole’s voice harsh. “You’re supposed to be my best friend. What are you hiding?”
“Dawn is carrying your child,” Sandy blurted out. “I asked her to marry me because everyone assumed you weren’t coming back and her babe needed a name.”
Cole leaped to his feet, stunned. “Why didn’t Dawn tell me?” His eyes narrowed. “Unless the child doesn’t belong to me.”
“I ought to punch you in the nose for even thinking such a thing,” Sandy blasted. “You don’t know Dawn if you think she’d consort with another man.”
Some perverse devil made Cole say, “Obviously she was willing to share your bed when she agreed to marry you.”
“You don’t know a damn thing, Cole. Our marriage was to be merely a formality to give your child a name. We both agreed we wouldn’t share a bed. I could have let Dawn bear your child in shame, but I felt too strongly about your babe being raised without a father or a name.”
Cole felt like a jealous fool for doubting Dawn’s loyalty. His heart told him she loved him but she had been hurt too many times to trust again. “I’m sorry, Sandy, jealousy does strange things to a man. I just can’t figure out why Dawn didn’t tell me about the baby. Especially after I asked her to marry me.”
“You haven’t earned her trust, Cole. Dawn’s past life must have been a living hell, if only half of what you told me about her is true. She needs someone who will love her without restrictions, someone she can depend upon. Until now you’ve given her scant hope of enjoying a future with you. She doesn’t want to be second best in your heart.”
Sandy’s astute observation astounded Cole. How could Sandy know what was in Dawn’s heart after so short an acquaintance? Had he, Cole, been blind to Dawn’s needs? Had his stubbornness, his refusal to listen to what his heart had been trying to tell him, cost him the only woman with the power to reach inside him and free him from his past?
Suddenly Cole became aware of the passage of time. It was long past the time Dawn was supposed to join them. He glanced toward the staircase, concern creasing his brow. Sandy followed the direction of Cole’s gaze, a gnawing suspicion grinding inside his gut.
“You don’t think … ?” Sandy’s question ended abruptly.
“I’d put nothing past Dawn when her mind is set on something.” Cole sprinted up the stairs, with Sandy close on his heels.
Cole knew before he flung open the door to Dawn’s room that he wouldn’t find her inside.
Sandy’s concern was apparent. “Where do you suppose she’s gone?”
“Damned if I know. When I find her I don’t know what I’ll do first, kiss her or wring her beautiful little neck. She has more than just herself to protect, she has my child growing inside her. She’s already lost one child, what if …” Cole nearly choked on the horrible notion that sprang unbidden into his head. “What if she loses this child? She’s fragile. She might not survive this time. Oh, God, what have I done to her?”
“I’ll help you look for her,” Sandy said. “Does she own a horse?”
“She probably boarded Wally at the livery. Let’s start there. It’s raining again. I have to find her before she freezes, or catches pneumonia. The little fool! What in the world possessed her to leave like this?”
“You can ask her when you find her,” Sandy said, urging Cole down the stairs and into the cold drizzle that froze into hard pellets before it reached the ground.
The hostler told Cole that Dawn had been there earlier, and that she’d seemed in a great hurry. He mentioned that she was carrying a bulging pillowcase that she’d tied onto her saddle before she left. No, he didn’t notice the direction in which she was headed, nor did she say where she was going. The stableboy volunteered the information that the lady had ridden west out of town, along the Portland road. Cole thought that made sense. Losing herself in a big city was safer than being alone in the wilderness.
“I’m going after her,” Cole told Sandy.
“I’ll come with you.”
“I’m going alone. You return to the house and tell Ashley and Tanner what happened. Dawn doesn’t have too much of a head start. I should catch up with her easily.”
“Are you sure? You’ve been traveling for days. You look about done in. Let me go in your place.”
Cole sent Sandy a look that would have frozen the ears off a brass monkey. “No. Dawn
is my responsibility. I’ll find her. Tell Ashley she can start planning a wedding for next week. And tell Tanner I’m taking him up on that offer of a piece of land. I want to start building immediately. Dawn has never had a real home. I want to give her everything she deserves.”
“I hope that includes your love,” Sandy said sternly.
Cole laughed. “Since when have you become a maudlin romantic, you old fraud? I love Dawn. Without her, my life has no meaning.”
“I hope you told her that.”
“I did. She chose not to believe me.”
“Bring Dawn back, Cole. Now get out of here. I’ll relay your messages to your family.”
Chapter Twenty
The heavens opened up, pelting Dawn with huge drops of icy rain. She dashed water from her rain-stung eyes and squinted into the sodden half-darkness of the storm-shrouded day. Suddenly a bolt of fire cleaved the heavens, burying itself in the earth. A crash of thunder followed, shaking the ground beneath her. To Dawn it appeared as if God were wreaking vengeance upon the earth and all its creatures.
The narrow road she followed cut a path between lofty pine, spruce and hemlock trees. Due to the inclement weather, muddy roads and swollen creeks and rivers, fellow travelers were conspicuously absent. Dawn urged her horse through the sucking mud as a mixture of rain and ice poured relentlessly down upon her. Lightning streaked across the gray sky and thunder rattled the heavens. With sinking heart, Dawn realized that her reckless flight might very well cost her her life.
God was punishing her, she thought as she pulled her coat closer around her quaking shoulders. She was cold, so very cold. She had made a terrible mistake. Why did she have to be so stubborn? Why couldn’t she just rejoice in Cole’s return and accept the love he offered? It was time she learned to trust again. Cole had sounded sincere when he’d said he loved her, but some perverse devil inside her had refused to believe him. He had never given her any reason to hope he would come to love her, so why should she believe him? His whole life revolved around a woman he’d sworn to love into eternity.
Dawn shivered violently and huddled deeper into her coat. She was as miserable as she’d ever been. She had effortlessly gone from the frying pan into the fire. For someone who loved a man as deeply as she loved Cole, she’d acted exceedingly foolishly.
Suddenly Wally shied, nearly throwing her. Clinging to his neck, Dawn hung on and searched frantically for the source of danger. What she saw chilled her blood. The bridge spanning a normally quiet and picturesque creek was out, and water was rushing at an alarming speed over the rocky bottom. It was almost as if Fate had ruled against her foolhardy flight, Dawn thought as she turned Wally around. There was nothing left for her now but to return to Oregon City and face Cole’s wrath.
Cole was bound to be irate, she reflected dimly. She had deliberately placed two lives in danger, hers and that of her unborn child. She wondered if Cole would be happy to learn he was going to be a father. He had mentioned that he wanted to start a family with her, but she’d been too frightened of being hurt again to believe him.
Cold, relentless rain beat down upon her. She felt bruised all over. Suddenly a bolt of lightning struck so close that Dawn could almost taste the scorching tang of it. Her hair stood on edge, and she felt a prickling along her spine. The crash of thunder that followed spooked Wally. Her horse reared, then took off into the woods, ignoring Dawn’s futile attempts to control him. Several tense minutes passed before Dawn had Wally once more in hand and turned him back toward the road, or what she thought was the right direction.
The crude logger’s hut that loomed up from the curtain of mist and rain was a welcome sight. At first, Dawn thought it was a mirage. She blinked, then blinked again. When it did not disappear or waver, she offered a quick prayer of thanksgiving and reined Wally toward the shelter. When she reached the hut she hastily dismounted, retrieved the pillowcase holding her belongings and pushed open the unlatched door. The room was dark and cold, but at least it offered some degree of shelter. She dropped the pillowcase on the floor and ducked back outside to see to Wally. There was no shelter for her drenched mount, but the least she could do for the poor beast was to remove his saddle.
But her plans were foiled when another vivid display of lightning and violent crash of thunder sent the horse stampeding through the trees. Dawn couldn’t have stopped him had she tried. She was shivering uncontrollably by the time she returned to the hut. Evidently the hut hadn’t been used in a very long time, for it was in a sorry state of disrepair.
The room was sparsely furnished with a small scarred table, two rickety chairs and a narrow cot. Dawn’s eyes lit up when she spied a blanket neatly folded at the foot of the cot. Then she spied the stack of dry kindling and firewood beside the fireplace and she gave a cry of gladness. Her joy was short-lived when she realized that without matches or tinder, the possibility of starting a fire was remote. But she tried to look at the bright side. At least she would have a roof over her head during the height of the storm. And she felt certain that once the storm abated she’d find Wally nearby.
Meanwhile, she had to get out of her sodden clothes. She undressed quickly, shivering violently as she peeled off the wet layers of clothing. Then she rummaged through the pillowcase until she found a reasonably dry shift, shirt and skirt. Once she was dressed, she removed the dusty but serviceable blanket from the bed and pulled it around her.
Cole was colder than he’d ever been in his life, and more frightened. He hadn’t caught up with Dawn yet, and the thought of her out in this storm made him push poor Warrior to the limit of his endurance. Her stubbornness appalled him. Her failure to tell him about the babe she carried made him furious. It was pure willfulness that had made her endanger that precious life growing inside her.
Thunder and lightning rent the skies, and Cole cursed the capriciousness of winter in Oregon. This infernal rain seemed to have no end or beginning. It just went on and on without any sign of relief. Early this morning it appeared as if the sun was going to break through the clouds, then, as if frightened by the heavy gray clouds, it had retreated and the storm had returned with renewed vengeance.
The road was awash in gluey mud, Cole was covered in grime, and water was running off his slicker, soaking him below the hips.
Suddenly Cole saw something that froze the blood in his veins. The bridge spanning the creek was out. Halting Warrior on the bank of the seething stream, Cole debated whether or not to attempt a crossing. He prayed that Dawn hadn’t been so foolish as to plunge recklessly into the creek. But what if she had? What if even as he hesitated she was struggling to survive in freezing water? That thought caused a painful roaring in his head. He hadn’t passed her on the road, which led him to believe that she had indeed attempted a crossing. He was about to urge Warrior into the raging water when he heard a noise to his left.
Cole’s heart plummeted when he saw a horse burst through the trees onto the road. Wally! Warrior must have recognized his friend, for he snorted a greeting. Wally halted, tossing his head and stomping the mud beneath his hooves.
Cole approached the riderless horse cautiously lest he frighten the animal away. Wally obliged by waiting patiently for Cole to grab hold of his trailing reins. “Where’s Dawn, boy? What happened?”
Of course, the horse couldn’t answer, but his flaring nostrils and wild eyes gave Cole a hint of what had happened. It didn’t take Cole long to figure out that Wally had been frightened by the violent display of thunder and lightning and had thrown Dawn. That thought was so alarming that Cole put his heels to Warrior and plunged into the woods with Wally in tow.
The next lightning bolt and clap of thunder made Wally go wild, but Cole’s will was greater than the horse’s. Cole rode through the trees like a man possessed, shouting Dawn’s name at the top of his lungs between claps of thunder.
Cole spied the hut through driving sheets of rain, and his heart leaped with fragile hope. He prayed that Dawn had found shelter inside as he leape
d from his mount, pausing only long enough to tether both horses to a bush. Just as he took a step toward the hut, a lightning bolt snaked down from the heavens, striking a tree so close to Cole he could smell the acrid odor of burning wood. He had but a moment to call out Dawn’s name before a sturdy branch, split by lightning and set aflame, struck him on the head.
The flash of lightning and roar of thunder that shook the hut badly jolted Dawn. It had struck so close, the odor of fire lingered on the damp air long after the last rumble of thunder vanished. Then, in the calm that followed, she imagined she heard someone call out her name.
Curiosity plagued Dawn. She would not be able to rest easy until she investigated, even if it had been nothing but the howling wind imitating a human voice. Cautiously she pried open the door. The wind was ferocious, catching the flimsy panel and flinging it from her hands. Peering out the door through the nearly impenetrable curtain of rain, Dawn saw little to rouse her suspicion. She was about to turn back inside when the soft nickering of a horse caught her attention. Had Wally returned? She poked her head through the doorway to widen her range of vision and spied two horses tethered to a bush, their heads bent against the driving wind. Wally and Warrior! That meant Cole … Then she saw him, pinned beneath a fallen branch, one end of which was still smoking but whose flame had been doused by the rain.
“Cole!” She rushed out of the hut, falling to her knees beside him. He was unconscious. Panic-stricken, she realized she had to get him out of the rain and cold immediately.
The branch was heavy but manageable as she lifted it from Cole’s body. He had been struck on the head and bore a lump to prove it. Groaning under the burden, Dawn cast the branch aside and tried to rouse Cole. He didn’t respond. He was as still and unmoving as solid rock. And just as heavy. Incapable of lifting him, Dawn did the next best thing. She grasped him under the arms and dragged him the short distance to the hut, thankful there were no stairs to contend with.