The nausea passed, and she knew the one thing she had to do right now was put in her usual appearance at breakfast. She must act normal. But she had to get away from here before it was too late!
The penciled figures in the account book blurred. Travis’s voice faded to an indistinct murmur as Matt let his attention stray from the matter at hand.
Why hasn’t she told me yet? he wondered for the thousandth time. She must realize by now that she carried his child, but maybe she was hiding from the truth.
He breathed an uneasy sigh. At least now he would have more time with her, but at this point he wasn’t sure what good that would do. His hopes were dashed a little more each day as more and more of their nighttime tensions and awkwardness spilled over into the days. And that was as much his fault as hers.
Lying beside her night after night, feeling her warmth next to him but unable to touch her, hold her, was driving him crazy. He was jumpy and irritable most of the time. Good God. He’d even yelled at Jessica yesterday, for no good reason. He’d regretted it and been ashamed of himself even before she started crying, but before he could soothe her, Angela had run into the room, picked up his sister, glared her defiance at him, and took the child away.
If he acted this way with the Chiricahua, they’d change his name again. Instead of Bear Killer, he’d probably be known as Bear With A Sore Paw. And the analogy wouldn’t be too far off. The pain of Angela’s rejection pierced him like a thorn. His reaction to the pain angered him. He was damn good and mad at Angela for inflicting it, and at himself for being so vulnerable.
Slowly he became aware of a subtle difference in the room. It was quiet. His eyes jerked guiltily to his father, who sat with his arms folded, watching him patiently.
“You want to talk about it?” Travis asked.
“About what?”
“About whatever it is that’s bothering you.” Travis looked at his son expectantly. “About Angela?” he prodded.
“What about Angela?”
Travis leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “We haven’t asked, Dani and I. We’ve never asked you about Angela. We’ve been waiting ever since you brought her home with you—longer than that, really—for you to tell us.” Again, he paused. “I guess you’ll tell us when you’re ready,” he finally said with a sigh.
Matt echoed his father’s sigh. “I will, Dad, but not yet. I’m not ready yet. I don’t have any answers for you, only more questions I have to answer for myself.”
Travis flicked the ashes from the end of his cigar, then nodded. “All right, son, I won’t pry. But I know things aren’t quite what they seem between the two of you. If you’ll take a bit of free advice from someone who’s been there, talk your troubles out with each other. Nothing breeds misunderstanding quicker than silence.”
Matt’s mouth twisted into a crooked grin. “Thanks, Dad.”
The heavy tread of a man’s boots sounded in the hall and stopped at the open door to the study. Matt and Travis both looked around expectantly as Jorge stood there twisting his hat.
“Excuse me, señores but…I’m supposed to tell you, Matt, that your wife, she took a horse and went for a ride.”
Matt’s stomach tightened into a knot. The pencil in his hand snapped in half. “Did anyone go with her, so she wouldn’t get lost?” Matt asked.
Jorge shifted his stance. “No, señor, she went alone.”
Matt rose from the desk with a casualness he did not feel and started toward the door. “Then I guess I’d better go after her before she loses her way, hadn’t I? Did you see which way she went?”
“Sí, señor, she took the road toward town.”
Travis stared at the empty doorway and listened as Matt and Jorge left the house. His brow creased in a frown. Angela hadn’t been on a horse since she arrived here. In fact, she often swore she’d never ride another one after that grueling trip from the mountains.
And now, she took a pleasure ride? And Matt broke pencils and worried that she’d get lost on a road that led straight to Tucson. Those two seemed to have more problems than he or Dani realized.
Chapter Twenty-Six
After eating a generous breakfast, Angela sneaked off to the kitchen and ate three more rolls, then went outside for a walk. The morning was clear and bright, and warmer than it had been lately. She didn’t even need her shawl, so when she entered the barn, she draped it across the stall door as she leaned to look in on a new foal.
Horses were fine, she thought, as long as she didn’t have to ride one. Then she sobered, realizing if she was ever going to get away from here, it would have to be on a horse. That in itself would present a problem, since she knew she couldn’t saddle one on her own, nor could she ask anyone else to do it for her. Matt had probably told the vaqueros to watch her every move. A request for a saddled mount would be reported to him.
She turned to leave the barn, kicking idly at some loose straw, when a movement beside her caught and held her attention. Standing there like a gift from heaven was a horse—nothing chestnut about it; it was just plain brown—all saddled and ready to ride. Angela quailed at the thought of actually mounting and riding out.
But there was no other way. Damn Matt Colton for making me go through this.
Angela blocked all other thought from her mind but that of escape. Here was her chance, perhaps her only chance. She had to take it now or lose it. With determination, she led the horse to an upturned crate and mounted. The animal shifted restlessly beneath her while she clung to the saddle and tried to arrange her skirt.
Then, as if she were out for a Sunday ride in the park—as if she actually knew what she was doing, where she was going—she trotted the horse out of the stable and headed northwest, along the road she’d heard led to Tucson. If she didn’t make a spectacle of herself as she left, it might be hours before Matt learned she had gone.
After about a half mile, the road curved around a low hill, which put Angela out of sight of the house. She kicked the horse into a gallop and hung on for dear life. The wind stung her eyes and ripped her hair loose from its pins. The ground sped by in a blur. Her skirt slipped from beneath one leg and billowed out like a balloon. She tried to stuff it back beneath her and nearly lost her seat in the process.
The horse tossed his head and snorted, then kicked out with his hind legs.
Angela flew at least a foot in the air, shrieking with every inch. She landed hard. Scared now, she pulled back on the reins, trying to slow her mount, but he didn’t respond. Instead of slowing, he jerked his head forward sharply. Angela lost her grip on the reins. Her heart thudded in terror as the thin leather straps slipped through her fingers and dangled dangerously to the ground, bouncing around the horses hooves.
Angela screamed and clutched the saddle horn until her knuckles turned white and her nails dug gouges in the leather. She couldn’t control the horse without the reins! The horse ran faster and faster, and there was nothing she could do! If she jumped, she’d surely break her neck at the very least, even if she could command her fingers to loosen their death-like grip, which she couldn’t. She couldn’t do anything but hang on.
Terror weakened her. She wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer. Already her fingers were getting numb and her arms were beginning to ache. Tears blinded her. The wind roared in her ears. Her head throbbed so that the beast’s hoofbeats seemed to echo all around her.
It seemed the most natural thing in the world for her to look around and see Matt riding close beside her. Without even thinking, she let go of the saddle horn and reached out both arms to him.
As soon as he rounded the low hill, Matt spotted her, and recognized the horse. Damn. That particular horse was saddle broke, but just barely. Matt was amazed Angela had even been able to mount a skittish, green-broke mustang like that.
Having rushed out without his spurs, Matt used his bootheels with force to urge his own horse faster.
He saw her skirt fly up, then saw her shift in the saddle, trying t
o hold it down. He was still many yards behind her when he heard her scream and saw the reins dangling loose between her mount’s hooves. Christ Almighty! Any second now the horse could step on them, stumble to the ground, break a leg, and throw Angela. Matt’s mouth went dry. At that speed Angela was sure to break her neck.
It seemed to take forever to pull up beside her, his heart in his throat the whole time, praying her horse wouldn’t stumble.
Several alternatives raced through his mind like lightning. He could pull up and try to turn her horse, but that wouldn’t necessarily slow the beast down. He could grab for the bridle or the loose reins, but the horse had its ears laid back and its eyes were rolling in fear. That kind of move might scare the half-wild mustang worse and make it rear or buck. He could throw a rope over the horse’s head, but he feared the same results.
What he wanted to do was reach out and grab Angela, but she had a death grip on the saddle horn. If she was too scared to let go— And she was definitely scared. The goddamn fool girl even had her eyes shut!
Her mount swerved off the road into the cactus and brush, but Angela didn’t seem to notice. He had to do something!
Just as he decided he’d make a grab for the bridle, Angela opened her eyes and saw him. When she turned loose of the horn and reached for him, he reached out with one arm, circled her waist, and pulled her over in front of him. Before she even touched his saddle, she had her arms locked around his neck so tight he thought he might choke.
But he didn’t object. He slowed his horse to a stop, knotted the reins, then wrapped both his trembling arms around her. God, but it had been close!
Angela buried her face in the curve of his shoulder and soaked his shirt with her tears. If she hadn’t been shaking so hard with her own sobs and terror, she would have told him how thankful she was for being alive and in his arms.
He spoke to her, soft and low, unintelligible words. Gradually she regained a modicum of self-control and her sobs quieted to an occasional shudder.
“You’re all right now, Angel. It’s over. You’re safe now. You’re not hurt are you?”
“No,” she managed past her aching throat. “I-I’m okay. I was just scared.”
“So was I, sweetheart.”
His soothing words, the endearments, and his arms holding her close against his chest were all so wonderful that she stopped crying all together. For a moment she even forgot what had just happened, and how it came to happen, her need to escape, his threats, everything. She just burrowed deeper into his embrace, longing to stay there forever.
Matt nudged his horse into a walk until they reached a clump of scrub oak. After assuring himself Angela was really all right, he left her there so he could go after her horse.
Left alone, Angela watched Matt ride off, then lost sight of him over a rise. What would happen when he came back? He certainly didn’t seem angry. It seemed like he’d actually been worried about her. Well, that was okay—she’d been worried herself. She’d been scared witless.
Witless. That was a good word to describe what she’d tried to do. Grab a horse on the spur of the moment and head out for town. Just great, Angie Sue, she thought with disgust and a remnant of panic. She could have been killed!
A shot sounded in the distance, from the direction where Matt had gone. Angela froze and her mouth went dry. Had something happened to Matt? Was he in trouble? What should she do?
Then she picked out the sound of pounding hooves and held her breath until she saw Matt galloping toward her. Thank God he was all right!
He reined in so sharply the horse’s hooves rose from the ground and dust swirled in the air, choking her. Matt jumped from his horse and reached her in two angry strides. He grabbed her by the arms and shook her roughly.
“Why, goddamn you? Why’d you do it, Angela?”
“Matt, you’re hurting me!” she cried.
“I’ll do more than hurt you. I oughta turn you over my knee and beat you till you’re black and blue.”
“What for? Why are you so angry?”
“Why? Do you know what they do to horse thieves in this part of the country?” He glared at her, and she just stared at him, open mouthed. “They hang them. You still want to go to town? Maybe the marshal would like to hear how you stole a horse.”
“You wouldn’t dare. That’s ridiculous. You would have got the stupid horse back. I would have left it for you.”
“Oh, you left him for me, all right—left him with a broken leg. He tripped on the reins you dropped.”
Matt turned loose of her and gave her a little shove before turning his back on her. He took several deep breaths, trying to get his temper and his fear under control. If she’d been on the horse when it stumbled…And he was nearly as upset that Angela had tried to leave him. That was no pleasure ride she’d taken.
He whirled and faced her. “I just had to kill a perfectly good animal that showed every sign of becoming one of the best cow ponies in a long time. It was a waste, a stupid, terrible waste. What in the hell did you think you were doing?”
His anger scared her, but she refused to let him know. She tossed her head in defiance. “I was getting away from you, that’s what I was doing.”
“Damn it, I know that. What I want to know is why.”
“Why? You expect me to just calmly go along with whatever you say? You expect me to stay here and let you steal my baby?”
“Is there a baby, Angela?”
She lowered her eyes and stubbornly refused to answer.
“Is that what you think I’m trying to do? Steal your baby?”
Her vision blurred. She opened her eyes wide to keep the tears from falling. “Isn’t it?”
“In the first place, wife, it isn’t your baby—it’s our baby. In the second place, if you give birth to our child and then leave, I won’t be stealing anything—you’ll be abandoning your own child. I told you before, it’s your choice whether you stay or go.”
“That’s some choice, isn’t it?” she said with disgust.
“Just out of curiosity, what were you planning on doing when you got to town? You have no money, you don’t know anyone there, you’ve never been there before. Were you just going to walk up to the first person you met and ask them to take you in? And what about the baby? How were you going to raise it?”
“I could have got a job.”
“Doing what?” he demanded. “You wouldn’t last an hour in that town on your own.”
“And just why is that?”
“Tucson is not Memphis, Angela. There might be five, maybe six white women in the whole town, and every one of them is a respectable married lady. If someone like you showed up alone, men would be all over you like flies on shit. And these aren’t your fine, upstanding southern gentlemen, either. Most of them are thieves and murderers hiding out from the law. They’d just love to get their hands on a juicy little piece like you. You’d be on your backside so fast you wouldn’t know what happened.”
Angela didn’t say anything as she stood there and glared at him. He was lying, just trying to scare her so she wouldn’t try running off again.
Matt swung up into the saddle and extended an arm down for her. She made no move to accept it.
“Come on and get up here, unless you’d rather walk home.”
No, she thought reluctantly, she’d not rather walk home.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
By mid December the days were still on the mild side, but the nights were cold. The entire family enjoyed the warm fire in the salon after the evening meal.
“Matt, have you forgotten your promise to Angela?” Daniella asked one evening.
“What promise is that?” Matt asked warily.
“I distinctly heard you say, in front of witnesses, I might add, that you intended to replace Angela’s wardrobe that was lost when her wagon burned.”
Angela flushed with embarrassment. She’d been wearing borrowed clothes since she got here. Apparently Daniella was getting tired of sharin
g.
“Oh, that promise,” Matt said. “No, I haven’t forgotten.”
“Good. I’m sure Angela hasn’t forgotten either.” Daniella turned her attention to Angela. “I know you must be tired of having to wear whatever’s available, dear. Don’t misunderstand me. We all share gladly everything we have with you. But you must want things of your own. I have some shopping to do before Christmas and before we leave for Boston. Tomorrow we’ll go to town and see what’s available.”
Daniella was sure there was a reason Matt hadn’t already seen to replacing Angela’s clothes. It wasn’t likely he would forget her need, yet every time someone mentioned a trip to town, he shied away from it, making first one excuse, then another.
She and Travis had talked about what could be wrong between Matt and Angela, and about why neither of them had mentioned how they came to be married. Well, that was their business, she supposed.
It was almost as if Matt didn’t trust Angela for some reason. At least when it came to going to town. So Daniella pushed the issue. She wanted it resolved before she and Travis left for Boston right after Christmas to settle her grandparents’ estate. Matt and Angela obviously loved each other very much, but there was a definite strain between them. Maybe if she took Angela to Tucson for the day, it might help.
Later that night, while Angela lay in bed alone, waiting to hear Matt’s footsteps in the hall, she wondered why he hadn’t tried to stop it. He’d voiced no objections about the trip to Tucson; he’d only looked at her strangely, almost sadly. She didn’t understand.
During the weeks since her ill-fated horseback ride, the tension between Matt and Angela had increased. When he worked outdoors, he always stayed near the house. If she so much as poked her nose out, he was there. Even if she’d wanted to try again, she’d never have made it to the barn without him spotting her.
When they were with the family, there was no more pretense of a loving couple. No more lingering touches. No more long, soft looks. No more affectionate smiles or pecks on the cheek. Only silence…and distance. Always distance.
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