Apache-Colton Series

by Janis Reams Hudson

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, Daniella wondered if a person could die from so much ecstasy. She moaned and moved her hips against him. The tempo of his lovemaking increased. She met him move for move.

  Suddenly she felt herself climbing, higher and higher, faster and faster, until she flew off the edge of the world. Directly into that deep, dark chasm. But it was no longer fearful, no longer dark. Bright rainbows of light exploded all around her. Her body convulsed again and again. She cried out for Travis. And he was there.

  He stiffened and gave one last, deep thrust, and answered her cry, joining her in his own release.

  Minutes, maybe hours later, when their breathing had slowed, Travis slipped from her body, moved over and rolled her to her back. His hand shook as he smoothed long tangled tresses from her face. “Are you all right?” he whispered.

  Slowly, with great effort, Daniella opened her eyes and met his anxious gaze. With a hand on the back of his neck, she pulled him close for a soft, sweet kiss. “I’ve never been this all right in my life.”

  When he smiled, she smiled back.

  She watched his every move as he pulled the sheet up over their bodies and turned down the wick on the lantern till the light went out. With a sigh, she felt his arm slip around her. She curled up against his side, placed her head on his sweat dampened shoulder, and fell asleep.

  Daniella dreamed she was floating on a cloud, drifting lazily along on a gentle breeze. She woke slowly. Her ear was pressed against her husband’s chest and she heard the strong beat of his heart. Her husband. He truly was now. She smiled and ran her hand through the crisp golden curls on his chest.

  She felt a kiss on top of her head and raised up on an elbow to look at him. “Good morning.” Her voice was husky with sleep. She lost herself in the brown and gold depths of his tender gaze.

  “Good morning.” With his hand behind her head, Travis pulled her down until their lips met in a gentle searching kiss. He threaded his fingers through her hair and moaned against the softness of her mouth.

  A hesitant knock sounded on the bedroom door. She jerked away.

  Travis froze, trying to read the expression in her eyes. She wasn’t as desperate to be held this morning as she’d been last night. Was she having regrets? He saw the blush creep up her neck and cover her face. What was she thinking?

  “Dani?” With a finger to her chin, he forced her to look at him.

  A slow smile spread across his face, and Daniella felt her blush deepen. She knew he must be reading in her eyes what she felt in her body. That surging warmth was flooding her again, the same as it had last night when he kissed her, held her, made love to her. She wanted him to touch her, and she wanted to touch him, all over.

  She felt his laughter start deep in his chest, and by the time the booming sound of it filled the room, he was hugging her tightly and she was laughing with him. She wanted to tell him all the things she was feeling right then. The euphoric sense of freedom that swept through her was exhilarating. For the first time she understood what it was to be free of fear. She’d never felt so safe and cared for in her life as she did at this moment.

  But even more important to her than that was the knowledge that she could simply reach out and touch her husband any time she wanted, and he would be there. He could touch her, and she would revel in it. She wanted to tell him all of this, but the words struck in her throat, and all she could do was laugh with him, and hold on to him and to this moment, and pray he understood that the tears on her face were not tears of sorrow.

  He gently kissed her tears away and pressed her head to his shoulder before calling an answer to the knock at the door. Juanita entered the room carrying a tray with their morning coffee, and at the sight of the two of them curled up together in bed, a wide grin split her face. She placed the tray on the bedside table and quickly scurried from the room, shutting the door as she left.

  Travis sat up to drink his coffee, and Daniella decided to get dressed. Still too shy to prance around naked, despite last night, she slipped her arms through the sleeves of her nightgown before tossing the sheet back and climbing from the bed.

  At the sharp rattle of cup and saucer, followed immediately by a low, vile curse, Daniella gripped the gaping front of her gown closed and whirled toward Travis. His face was nearly as white as the sheet, and he stared down at the bed. She frowned. “Travis, what’s wrong?”

  Her gaze automatically followed his. Her knees trembled at the sight of the dark red spots on the sheet where she’d lain. It was blood. Her blood!

  “Get back in bed, Dani,” Travis said, his voice rough with emotion. “I’ll get Rosita.”

  Travis’s hand shook as he helped her back into bed. Dear God, what had he done? He’d given in to the fierce desire that had been burning within him for so long. He’d taken advantage of her vulnerability last night, knowing all the while he shouldn’t. And now she was bleeding. Because of him.

  He brushed a tender kiss on her brow, then yanked on his pants and ran—ran—for Rosita.

  He spent the next half hour as he’d spent much of the previous evening, pacing the hall outside his closed bedroom door. He aged ten years waiting for that damn door to open.

  When it did, he stiffened with dread, remorse over his actions last night in that very room eating him alive. “How is she?” he demanded. “Should I send for a doctor?”

  Rosita raised on disdainful brow at the unintentional insult, then shook her head and rolled her eyes. “It was only a few spots of blood. With rest and care, and no more bed play,” the woman announced baldly, “la señora will be fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Rosita smiled and patted him on the cheek as if he were Matt. “Sí, I am sure. You go to her now.”

  Travis was still too worried to be relieved as Rosita left and he sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “I’m all right,” Dani told him, reaching for his hand.

  He clutched her hand tightly while searching her eyes. There was a look of such tenderness in those pale blue depths it nearly took his breath away. “Are you sure? How do you feel?”

  “I feel fine. Rosita says this just happens sometimes. I’ll be all right. But we can’t…”

  “I know, love, I know. I knew last night we shouldn’t. I’m so sorry. If anything happens to you or these babies because I couldn’t control myself—”

  “Travis, no. It isn’t your fault. It could have been caused by the fall I took yesterday. In fact, that’s probably the case. Besides,” she added with a blush and a slight grin, “the way I remember it, I…well, I sort of threw myself at you.”

  He felt himself smiling at her candidness as well as her enchanting blush. He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers. “You only gave me what I wanted more than anything in the world,” he whispered. “I’ve never received a more precious gift in my life.”

  Carmen checked to make sure her bodice was properly buttoned as she stepped out into the blinding afternoon sun and started down the rickety steps leading from Billy Joe Crane’s room to the alley below. Dios, but the only thing worthwhile at all about that stupid gringo was what he had between his legs. Imagine him getting squeamish just because Travis’s little wife happened to be expecting.

  What earthly difference that made, Carmen couldn’t figure out. If he was going to kill the interfering bitch anyway, what did it matter? Even when Carmen had told Crane Daniella was only expecting an Apache bastard—maybe two, if ranch gossip were to be trusted—he’d still refused to go back and finish the job.

  He’d said he didn’t care if the kid was red, white, or green, he wasn’t about to harm a “mother-to-be.”

  Dios, what a stupid fool! Now he was refusing to even go near the Triple C until the new Mrs. Colton gave birth. Apparently it was all right to kill a new mother, but not an expectant one. Who could understand a gringo anyway?

  At the bottom of the stairs Carmen’s skirt caught on a loose splinter. She gave a sharp tug, then cur
sed under her breath at the sound of ripping fabric.

  Next week Travis would be coming to town. All the farmers, ranchers, and businessmen were coming for some sort of election. How she longed to see Travis!

  But no. The time wasn’t right. Not yet.

  She could, however, arrange to have a little pressure put on him, pressure for him to get rid of his wife. Yes. A few suggestions whispered in the right ears over the next few days, and Travis’s own neighbors might convince him of the wisdom of sending Daniella packing.

  And if that didn’t work, she’d grit her teeth and bide her time until Crane took care of the problem once and for all.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Travis hated leaving Dani for the day or two the meeting in Tucson would take, but she had insisted he go. One of his biggest worries was that, now that she was no longer confined to bed, she would overdo and tire herself out. Before he and Jason had ridden out that morning Travis had made Rosita and Juanita swear they’d keep a close eye on her. That helped, but not enough. He wanted to keep his own eyes on her.

  Yet she was right; this meeting was important. Now that the U. S. Army had pulled out and left the Territory defenseless, left it with no remaining doubts as to the contempt the Union held for Arizona, it was imperative that they get a representative to the Confederate Congress as soon as possible. Today in Tucson the citizens would elect the delegate. Travis and Jason wanted to make sure the man they sent was the right man for the job.

  “Would you look at that,” Jason said as they neared Tucson.

  Travis narrowed his eyes and peered down the dusty road. The town was bulging with people. Wagons lined the streets and tents spilled from the edge of town out into the desert. “Surely they didn’t all come for the meeting,” he said more or less to himself.

  As they slowly made their way through the tightly packed streets toward the livery, shouts and snatches of conversation explained the situation. Many had come for the meeting, but most were refugees from Tubac, down near the border.

  Apache attacks had become so frequent and vicious, everyone from Tubac and the surrounding ranches and farms had fled north for the dubious safety of Tucson. They were tired, scared, and angry over the loss of their homes.

  Travis smiled grimly to himself. The vote should go quickly. These people wanted action, and they wanted it now.

  By the time the meeting came to a close that night, Travis was pleased. By an overwhelming majority, the citizens elected Tucson resident Granville Oury as the Arizona delegate to the Confederate Congress.

  “Have you seen Renard anywhere in this throng?”

  Jason frowned and shook his head. “Not a sign of him.”

  Travis shouted across the crowded room, asking if Renard was present. Josh Hamlin elbowed his way toward Travis and called out, “Hell no, he ain’t here. You didn’t hear what happened?”

  Something in Hamlin’s eyes sent prickles of foreboding down Travis’s spine. “What happened?”

  Hamlin’s gaze flicked toward Jake Alverez and Burton Schmidt, who joined him facing Travis. “He weren’t home two days after tellin’ all of us about this here meeting when he was hit by Apaches. They took all his stock, burned down his house, and some heathen buck with beady eyes and thin lips…well, let’s just say Sarah Renard won’t never be the same after what he done.”

  Travis lost track of the voices around him as he pictured pretty little dark-haired Sarah Renard, Lucien’s wife. Hamlin didn’t have to explain the details. It was clear from his tone and the look on his face that Sarah had been raped.

  …beady eyes and thin lips…

  Golthlay? That sorry bastard!

  “So what happened?” Jason demanded. “Where are the Renards?”

  “They lit out,” Hamlin answered. “He said he was takin’ her back to her brother’s in Santa Fe.”

  “Damned shame, if you ask me,” Alverez commented.

  “Yeah,” Schmidt said. “A man ain’t safe nowhere these days, least of all in his own home. But then, guess you don’t have to worry about your place being attacked by Apaches, now, do ya, Colton? Is that what the rest of us gotta do to keep our homes safe? Take up with Apache leavings?”

  Travis felt the blood roar in his ears. Without so much as a blink of an eye, he swung his fist into Schmidt’s face and broke the man’s nose. Schmidt reeled and took three men down with him when he fell.

  “What the hell!” someone shouted. “Fight!”

  Daniella let Matt stay up later than usual with the excuse that he needed to study his math. The truth was, however, that she wanted to postpone going to bed without Travis for as long as possible.

  Since the night they’d made love she’d felt so close to him, even when they were apart during the day. She’d known that when night came they would lie down on the big bed in their room and hold each other.

  She hadn’t rid herself of all her fears, but he’d helped her over that biggest one—her fear of intimacy. The biggest thing left for her to face was the birth of her twins. No matter what Travis said, she feared his reaction when they were actually born. When presented with a constant physical reminder of her past, how would he react? How would she react?

  Seated on the edge of the bed, Daniella stared at the glow of the lantern and tried to blank that particular worry from her mind. A moment later, images formed before her eyes. She tried to blink them away—she didn’t want any more visions!—but her lids refused to lower.

  The scene before her sharpened to show a crowded, smoke-filled room. Men shouted, although she couldn’t hear them. In the center a brawl was taking place. Two blond men stood back to back and fought off a half dozen others. Fists flew and boots kicked. Arms and legs tangled as some of the combatants crashed to the floor. It was impossible to tell exactly what was happening until it was all over, and the two blond men stood back to back again, glaring a blatant challenge to anyone else who cared to take them up on it.

  Just as the scene started to fade, Daniella gasped. It was Travis and Jason! When the vision disappeared, she buried her face in her hands. Travis and Jason had been in a fight. What had caused it? Had the political meeting gotten out of hand?

  That didn’t make sense. Travis and Jason held opposing views on the matters being discussed, yet they’d fought together, not against each other.

  With a sinking feeling of dread and guilt, she somehow knew the fight had something to do with her.

  When the men got home the next day, Travis frowned when he located Dani on her knees in the courtyard watering flowers.

  “Is this how you rest and take care of yourself?”

  She dropped the watering gourd into the bucket next to her with a splash and whirled on her knees to face him. “You’re home!”

  The smile on her face and obvious delight in her eyes stirred a warmth and yearning deep inside him. With a crooked smile of his own, he helped her stand, then sighed with satisfaction when they embraced.

  Their lips met in hungry reassurance that they were together, that her fear of him really was gone. Even though they’d made love, Travis had half expected her to withdraw from him again during the past days. He thanked God it hadn’t happened.

  She pulled back slightly and he felt the touch of her eyes on his face.

  “Are you all right?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Now that I’m home with you, I couldn’t be better,” he answered with a smile.

  “No,” she said shaking her head. “I mean the fight. Were you injured?”

  Travis stared down into her face, confused. “What are you talking about?”

  She took another step back and pursed her lips. “I’m talking about the fight you and Jason were in, about this bruise on your cheek,” she said, running a gentle finger over the spot in question. “What happened, Travis?”

  Puzzled, he asked, “How did you know Dad and I were in a fight?”

  She closed her eyes briefly, but not before he saw the flash of pain and uncertainty there
. “Dani?”

  “I…I saw it.”

  “You couldn’t have. You were here the whole time. Weren’t you?”

  She nodded and swallowed. “I was here, but, I saw it.” Travis felt a coldness prickle along the back of his neck as understanding dawned. She’d had another vision. As far as he knew, it was the first time in months this had happened to her. He knew her visions frightened and confused her. He had hoped for her sake she wouldn’t have any more. He pulled her gently back into his arms. “Are you all right?”

  She looked up at him earnestly. “I asked first.” Travis forced a smile to his lips. “I’m fine. It was nothing.”

  “But what started it? What was the fight about?”

  “You didn’t see that, too?” he asked carefully.

  “All I could see was the fight, and that you and Jason won. I couldn’t hear any voices, so I don’t know what started it.”

  The smile returned to Travis’s lips, this time without force. Not for his life would he tell her what that damned fight had been about. The lie came easily to his lips. “You know how some men get when politics is the topic of conversation. Things just got a little out of hand, that’s all. It was nothing important, I assure you. There was no real harm done.”

  When Dani changed the subject and asked about the Renards, he tensed again. This, too, was something he didn’t want to tell her. It was unlikely that anyone would ever inform her of the cause of the fight, but she was bound to hear the truth about the Renards eventually. He couldn’t lie about it, but he didn’t necessarily have to tell her the whole truth, either.

  His abridged version only mentioned that Renard’s ranch was attacked by Apaches, and that the Renards had gone back to Santa Fe. He didn’t mention what had happened to Sarah.

  But yet Dani knew. He saw the knowledge in her eyes.

  With a shake of her head, Dani changed the subject again, and Travis was relieved to hear her ask about the election.