A Heart so Wild - Straton 1

by Johanna Lindsey

  “Well, that’s the story she told him. So he actually came here to do me a service, sort of.”

  “Oh, God. Trust you to see it that way.”

  “Don’t be sarcastic, Chandos. It could have been a lot worse. He could have forced himself on me even after he knew I didn’t want him. But he didn’t do that.”

  “All right.” Chandos sighed. “I won’t kill him. But I still have some business to attend to. Wait for me in your room,” he told her. She hesitated, tensing, and he touched her cheek softly. “Nothing you will object to, cateyes. Now go on. Fix yourself up, or get some sleep. You look like you could use it. I won’t be long.”

  His voice soothed her, and his touch told her she had nothing else to worry about. She did as he said, leaving him in the kitchen with Calida.

  Chapter 36

  THE moment Courtney stepped into her room, every ache and pain from her fight with Calida began to throb. Her ankle injury hurt worse than ever. She hobbled to the small oval mirror over the bureau, groaning when she got a good look at herself. Lord, Chandos had seen her looking like this. Like this! Oh, God.

  Her hair was matted in thick tangles. Dark coffee stains spotted her skirt. There were several tears in her dress. One rip at the shoulder revealed three crescent-shaped punctures surrounded by dried blood. A few drops of blood had dried on her neck, and there was a scratch at the corner of her eye and another behind her ear, as well as half a dozen on the back of her hands.

  She knew she would have bruises later on, too. Damn Calida. But at least Chandos believed her and had seen Calida for what she was. Courtney doubted he would be bedding that one again, about which Courtney felt grateful, and a little smug.

  A bath was first, and she went back downstairs to find Chandos and Calida both gone. She mopped up the spilled coffee while she boiled water for her bath. Mama returned from church in time to help her carry it upstairs. Courtney said nothing about what had happened, mentioning only that Chandos was back.

  She was fixed up, the bathwater waiting to be removed, when Chandos came in, not troubling to knock. She didn’t mind, accustomed by now to a lack of privacy where he was concerned.

  His condition startled her. Nearly as messed up as she had been, he was cradling his side.

  “Just what I need,” he said, eyeing her bathwater in the tub.

  “Don’t think you’re not going to tell me,” she said firmly.

  “Nothing to tell,” he evaded, then sighed. “I didn’t kill him. But I couldn’t just let it go, either. Calida took off the moment you left the kitchen, or I would have throttled her.”

  “But, Chandos, Mario didn’t do anything!”

  “He touched you.”

  She was amazed. It was a thoroughly possessive answer. She started to say so, then thought better of it.

  “Who won?”

  “You could say it was a draw,” he said, sitting on the bed with a groan. “But I think the sonofabitch broke one of my ribs.”

  She hurried over and reached for his shirt buttons. “Let me see.”

  He caught her hands before she could touch him, and her eyes met his, questioning. There was a wealth of meaning in his bright blue eyes, but she couldn’t quite fathom it yet. She didn’t know what it did to him when she touched him.

  She stepped back.

  “You wanted a bath,” she said, embarrassed. “I’ll leave for a while.”

  “You can stay. I trust you to turn your back.”

  “It would hardly be proper—”

  “Stay, goddammit!”

  “All right.”

  Courtney whirled around and stalked to the window, where she pulled up a chair and sat, back stiff and teeth clenched, silently waiting.

  “How’s your ankle?” he asked.

  “Better.”

  He frowned. “Don’t pout, cateyes. I just don’t want you running into Calida without me.”

  She listened to the sounds of his clothes dropping to the floor, piece by piece, and tried desperately to concentrate on the scene outside the window. Churchgoers were gathered in little groups, and two young boys in their Sunday best were tossing a ball back and forth. A little girl ran after a dog that was running away with her bonnet. Courtney saw it all—and saw none of it. Chandos’s boots hit the floor, and she jerked in her chair.

  It was all well and good his wanting to keep her within sight in order to protect her, but just then Courtney didn’t appreciate it. Didn’t he know she imagined his every move? How often she had seen him without a shirt? She knew what his body looked liked, and right now she was picturing him in her mind vividly, as if she could see him. Her pulse raced.

  Water splashed, and she heard him gasp. The water would be cold, and she imagined goose-bumps spreading over his arms and chest, then saw herself rubbing them away.

  Courtney shot to her feet. How dared he subject her to this? She felt like her insides were dissolving, and he blithely took his bath without a single thought for what he was doing to her! The insensitive beast!

  “Sit down, cateyes. Or better yet, go lie down and get some rest.”

  His voice was deeply husky, rolling over her like a caress. Courtney sat down.

  Think of something else, Courtney… anything else! “Did you settle your business in Paris?” Her voice was faint.

  “Uh-uh. I’ve got to go to San Antonio.”

  “Before or after you leave me in Waco?”

  “After,” he replied. “And I have to hurry, so we’ll be riding hard. Think you can manage it?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  She cringed as she heard the resentment in her voice. But she couldn’t help it. She was sure he was using fictitious business in San Antonio as an excuse to get her off his hands as soon as he could.

  “What’s wrong, cateyes?”

  “Nothing,” she said stonily. “Do we leave today?”

  “No. I need some rest. And I don’t think you got much sleep last night.”

  “No.”

  There was silence until he said, “Think you can rustle me up something to bind this rib with?”

  “Like what?”

  “A petticoat will do.”

  “Not one of mine,” she retorted. “I’ve only got two. I’ll go ask—”

  “Never mind,” he cut in. “It’s probably not broken anyway, just bruised.”

  God sakes, couldn’t she leave the room for just a moment? “Have I been threatened, Chandos? Is there some specific reason why I should stay here with you?”

  “I would think you’d be used to being alone with me, cateyes. Why are you so skittish all of a sudden?”

  “Because it’s not decent, my being in here while you’re taking a bath!” she exploded.

  “If that’s all that’s bothering you, I’m done.”

  Courtney glanced around. The tub was empty and Chandos was sitting on the edge of the bed, naked except for a towel wrapped around his hips. Her eyes flew back to the window.

  “God sakes, will you put some clothes on!”

  “I left my gear down in the kitchen, I’m afraid.”

  “I brought your bags up,” she informed him tightly. “They’re over there, by the bureau.”

  “Then have a heart, will you? I don’t think I can move anymore.”

  She had the impression suddenly that he was toying with her, but she dismissed it. Frowning, she fetched his saddlebags and put them on the bed, keeping her eyes averted.

  “If you’re so tired,” she said, “then make use of my bed. I can get another room for tonight.”

  “Uh-uh.” His tone left no room for argument. “This bed’s big enough for two.”

  She drew in her breath sharply. “That’s not funny!”

  “I know.”

  She looked fully at him now. “Why are you doing this? If you think I can sleep with you lying next to me, you’re crazy.”

  “You haven’t been made love to on a bed yet, have you, cateyes?”

  He gave her a lazy smi
le that stopped her breathing. Her knees liquefied and she reached for the bedpost.

  He stood up. His towel fell away, leaving her no doubt of his seriousness. His body was sleek and smooth and damp, and oh, Lord, she wanted to fly into his arms.

  But she didn’t. She wanted nothing more than to make love, but she couldn’t bear his indifference afterward, not again.

  “Come here, kitten.” He lifted her face to his. “You’ve been hissing all morning. Now purr for me.”

  “Don’t,” she whispered just before his lips touched hers.

  He leaned back, but didn’t let go of her. His thumbs moved against her lips, and her body swayed toward his of its own volition.

  His smile was knowing. “I’m sorry, little cat. I didn’t want it to happen. You know that.”

  “Then don’t do this,” she pleaded.

  “I can’t help it. If you’d learn to be less obvious about what you’re feeling, I wouldn’t be in this predicament. But when I know you want me, it drives me crazy.”

  “That’s unfair!”

  “You think I like losing control like this?”

  “Chandos, please—”

  “I need you—but that’s not all.” He gathered her close, and his lips seared her cheek. “He touched you. I need to wipe that from your memory—I have to.”

  How could she continue to resist, after that? He might never admit it, but those words said how much he cared.

  Chapter 37

  THE night sky was black velvet scattered with glittering diamonds. Far off there was the lowing of cattle, and even more distant, the howl of a bobcat. The night was briskly cool, though not cold, and gentle breezes stirred a tree on top of the hill ahead.

  The horses plodded up the rise and stopped under the tree. Dozens of flickering lights stretched out over the flat plain below. Courtney sighed.

  “What town is that?”

  “It’s not a town. That’s the Bar M Ranch.”

  “But it looks so big!”

  “It is,” Chandos said. “Everything Fletcher Straton does, he does in a big way.”

  Courtney knew the name. She’d read it in the newspaper article that had accompanied the photograph her father was in. Fletcher Straton was the rancher whose men had apprehended the cattle rustler who was turned over to the law in Waco.

  “Why are we stopping?” Courtney asked as Chandos dismounted and came around her horse. “You don’t intend to make camp here when Waco is nearby, do you?”

  “It’s a good four miles to town.”

  His hands closed on her waist to help her down. He hadn’t done that since they’d left Alameda. He hadn’t gotten this close to her since Alameda.

  She moved her hands away from his shoulders as soon as her feet touched the ground, but his hands remained at her waist. “Couldn’t we go to Waco?” she ventured.

  “I’m not making camp, cateyes,” he said gently. “I’m saying good-bye.”

  Stunned, Courtney froze where she stood. “You—you’re not taking me into Waco?”

  “I never intended to. There are people in town I don’t want to see. And I couldn’t just leave you in Waco on your own anyway. I need to know you’re with someone I can trust. There’s a lady on the Bar M who’s a friend of mine. It’s the best solution.”

  “You’re leaving me with another one of your mistresses?” she cried, incredulous.

  “No, goddammit, Margaret Rowley is Straton’s housekeeper. She’s an English lady, a motherly kind of person.”

  “A little old lady, I suppose?” she snapped.

  He ignored her sharpness, saying lightly, “Whatever you do, don’t call her that. She boxed my ears once when I did.”

  There was a knot in her belly working its way up into her throat. He really meant to leave her. Walk out of her life, just like that. Somehow, she had believed she meant more to him than that.

  “Don’t look at me that way, cateyes.”

  He turned away. She watched, dazed, as he started a fire, angrily breaking sticks and throwing them together. Soon he had the fire going, and the firelight revealed the sharp angles of his features.

  “I’ve got to reach San Antonio before it’s too late!” he said forcefully. “I can’t take time to see you settled in town.”

  “You don’t have to see me settled. My father is a doctor. If he’s there, he won’t be hard to find.”

  “If he’s there.” Sparks shot into the air. “If he’s not, at least here you’ll have someone to help you figure out what to do next. Margaret Rowley is a good woman, and she knows everyone in Waco. She’ll know if your father is there. So you’ll know tonight,” he offered soothingly.

  “I’ll know? You’re not even going to wait around to find out?”

  “No.”

  Her eyes widened with suspicion. “You’re not even going to take me down there, are you?”

  “I can’t. There are people on the Bar M I don’t want to see. But I’ll wait here until I see that you’re safely inside.”

  Finally, Chandos looked at her. His gut wrenched. Hurt, disbelief, confusion were all there. Her eyes were glassy because she was trying desperately to hold back tears.

  “Goddammit!” he exploded. “Do you think I want to leave you here? I swore I’d never come near this place again!”

  Courtney turned around to wipe away the tears that slipped past her defenses. “Why, Chandos?” she choked. “If you don’t like it here, why leave me here?”

  He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. His closeness was too much for Courtney and more tears slid down her cheek.

  “It’s the people I don’t like, cateyes—all except the old lady.” His voice was calmer. “For some godforsaken reason I can’t begin to imagine, Margaret Rowley likes working on the Bar M. If I knew anyone else around here, I wouldn’t bring you here. But she’s the only one I can think of to leave you with so I won’t have to worry about you.”

  “Worry about me?” That was too galling. “Your job is done. You’ll never see me again. What have you got to worry about?”

  He pulled her around to face him. “Don’t do this to me, woman.”

  “You?” she cried. “What about me? What about what I feel?”

  He shook her. “What do you want from me?”

  “I-I—”

  No. She wouldn’t say it. She wouldn’t beg him. She wouldn’t ask him not to leave her, no matter how much this good-bye was killing her. Nor would she tell him she loved him. If he could just leave her, just like that, then it wouldn’t make any difference to him anyway.

  She shoved him away. “I don’t want anything from you. Stop treating me like a child. I needed you to get me here, not to see me settled. I can do that myself. God sakes, I’m not helpless. And I don’t like being palmed off on strangers and—”

  “Are you through?” he asked.

  “No. There’s the matter of what I owe you,” she said stiffly. “I’ll go get it.”

  She tried to pass him and he caught her arm. “I don’t want your goddamn money!”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. That’s why you agreed—”

  “Money had nothing to do with it. I’ve told you before not to assume things about me, cat-eyes. You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me—do you?”

  He didn’t frighten her with this tack anymore. “I know you’re not as bad as you’d like me to think.”

  “No?” His fingers tightened on her arm. “Should I tell you why I’m going to San Antonio?”

  “I’d rather you didn’t,” she said uneasily.

  “I’m going there to kill a man,” he said coldy, bitterly. “There won’t be anything lawful about it, either. I’ve judged him, found him guilty, and I mean to execute him. There’s only one hitch. The law has him, and they mean to hang him.”

  “What’s wrong about that?”

  “He has to die by my hands.”

  “But if the law has him… you don’t mean to pit yourself against the law?” s
he gasped.

  He nodded. “I haven’t figured out yet how to get him loose. The main thing I have to do is get there before they hang him.”

  “I’m sure you have your reasons, Chandos, but—”

  “Don’t, goddammit!” He didn’t want her understanding. He wanted her to turn against him—now—so he wouldn’t try to come back later. “What does it take to make you open your eyes? I’m not what you think I am,” he told her.

  “Why are you doing this, Chandos?” she cried. “Isn’t it enough that you’re leaving, that I’ll never see you again? Do you want me to hate you, too? Is that it?”

  “You do hate me,” he said darkly. “You just don’t know it yet.”

  A chill of premonition crawled up her spine as he unsheathed the knife from his belt. “Are you going to kill me?” she asked disbelievingly.

  “I couldn’t do it four years ago, cateyes. What makes you think I can do it now?”

  “Then what… what do you mean? Four years ago?” Her gaze was fixed on the knife as he drew the blade across the forefinger of his right hand. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

  “If I think you still want me, then the link will never be broken. It must be broken.”

  “What link?” Anxiety made her voice crack.

  “The link we formed four years ago.”

  “I don’t understand—” The blade sliced into his left forefinger now. “Chandos!”

  He dropped the knife. Courtney stared as he raised his hands to his face. The two forefingers met in the center of his forehead and moved outward, toward his temples, leaving bright red smears of blood just above his eyebrows. His fingers then came together at the bridge of his nose and slashed downward across his cheeks and met at his chin, leaving more lines of blood.

  For a moment Courtney saw only the bloodred lines dissecting Chandos’s face into four parts. But after a moment the pale blue of his eyes began to come through, vivid against the bronze skin.

  “You! It was you! Oh, my God!”

  She could barely think for the old fear that welled up, and she ran, blindly. Halfway down the hill he caught her. The impact made them both fall, and he took the brunt of it. His arms around her, protecting her, they rolled all the way to the bottom of the hill.

  When they stopped, Courtney tried to get up, but he pinned her to the ground.