Apache-Colton Series

by Janis Reams Hudson

  “Why didn’t you buy your own clothes? You weren’t a student. You worked in the infirmary.”

  “Yes, and was paid room and board and nothing else.”

  “Room and board?” he bellowed. “Good God, they paid you in bread and water?” He wanted to hit something. Between this and the shape she was in when he’d taken her from Carlisle, somebody was going to pay. The minute he got home he was going to write a letter hot enough to singe Captain Pratt’s fingers, by God.

  He shook his head in frustration. “You should have told me you didn’t have any other clothes.”

  “Why should I think you would care?”

  “We’ll buy you new clothes in Tucson,” he muttered between clenched teeth.

  “How will I pay for them?”

  “Think of them as a belated wedding present.”

  “Now that’s what I call—”

  “So help me, if you keep on, I’m going to be damned tempted to toss you and those hideous brown clothes right off this train.”

  She poked out her chin again. “You and what army, white man?”

  “I don’t need an army, girl.” He advanced until he had her backed against the wall. “You should have been turned over somebody’s knee a long time ago and had the sass whipped out of you.”

  Her eyes went cold and her expression closed. “If you’ll remember, white man, somebody already tried.”

  “Shit.” Spence squeezed his eyes shut on the vivid memory of what her back had looked like last week. He couldn’t believe he’d said what he just said. “I’m sorry.” He backed away and opened his eyes. “It was an idle threat, LaRisa. I didn’t mean it. I would never hurt you. Never.”

  “You’ll pardon me, but I’ve learned the hard way to take threats to my person seriously.”

  Spence looked down and gaped at the small, sharp knife clutched in her fist. “Where the hell did you get that?”

  “Pace gave it to me just before we got on the train. He said it might come in handy.”

  “I doubt he meant for you to use it on me.”

  “I doubt he thought I’d need to.”

  Spence ran the fingers of both hands through his hair. “Hell, put the damn thing away. The last time you had something sharp in your hand when you were mad, I ended up with this.” He pointed to the stitches in his cheek. “I won’t let you cut me again, and I don’t want to hurt you. Put it away.”

  “Are you going to stop picking on me?”

  “Jesus H. Christ.” His hands moved so fast she saw nothing but a blur of motion when he took the knife away from her. “Rule number one—you don’t pull a knife on a man just because he ruffles your feathers.”

  “Give that back!” She lunged, but he easily held it up out of her reach.

  “Rule number two—never pull a knife on somebody unless you mean to use it.”

  With a fierce grimace of determination, she tried to grab his arm. Even in the close confines of the compartment, he handily evaded her.

  “Rule number three—never pull a knife on somebody unless you know how to use it and more importantly, how to hang on to it.” He reached up and placed the blade on the narrow ledge of the shelf that folded down to make his bed, leaving the knife well out of her reach.

  Furious, determined not to be thwarted, LaRisa sprang onto her bunk, not yet folded away, and scrambled for the knife. Spence caught her with an arm around her waist and pulled her off the bed. She was left hanging in his grasp, her back pressed against his chest, her feet dangling in the air. With a shriek of fury and outrage, she fought, kicking and squirming and trying to pry his arm from around her waist.

  “Stop it! LaRisa, stop. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Let me go or I’m going to do my best to hurt you, white man.”

  When the heel of her shoe connected sharply with his shin, he believed her. Goddamn little hell cat. “Stop that!” He shifted until her legs were trapped between his and the edge of the bunk.

  Blind with rage, LaRisa reared her head back.

  Spence saw it coming, but couldn’t duck or turn her loose fast enough. The back of her head connected sharply with his left cheek. Pain exploded from the top of his skull clear down to his kneecaps. Breath hissed between his teeth. He dropped her and pressed a hand over his stitches. “Son of a bitch!”

  LaRisa staggered to regain her footing, then whirled on him, ready to tear him to pieces with her bare hands. One look at his pain-contorted face, and all thoughts of revenge for his manhandling fled. “Spence!”

  “If you say you’re sorry,” he said between clenched teeth, “so help me I’ll strangle you right here and now and throw your body out the window.”

  “Spence, I—” At the look in his eyes, she swallowed the apology.

  “One of these days, girl, that temper of yours is going to get you into real trouble.”

  LaRisa hated that she’d hurt his face, but she’d gone too far to back down. “One of these days maybe you’ll learn not to provoke it,” she snapped.

  “Don’t start with me, dammit.”

  “I’m not. I didn’t. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but you started this.”

  Spence merely grunted, then turned and entered the lavatory. At the small mirror over the sink he forced himself to lower his hand and inspect the wound. Damn, it was throbbing like a blue bitch.

  LaRisa closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. She had to stop this madness. She could not continue letting him provoke her to the point where she was so angry she couldn’t think straight. In the past she had always managed to maintain control of herself regardless of the provocation. Until this white man entered her life.

  She took another deep breath and eased beside him in the lavatory.

  He eyed her warily. Hell, he knew she hadn’t meant to bop him in the face like that, but she’d been right about one thing. At the rate they were going, they’d be lucky not to kill each other—by accident or otherwise—before they reached Tucson.

  The wound was black and blue and slightly swollen, but it wasn’t bleeding, thank God

  “Is it all right?” LaRisa asked.

  “I’ll live.”

  LaRisa backed out of the lavatory. “Since we’re not in hell anymore, I’ll see if I can find some ice.”

  Spence looked at her then, relieved to find her anger and his had faded. “Thanks. Ice would be good.”

  While she was gone, Spence stretched out on her bunk and tried to figure out what in the hell had happened. How had the morning turned so ugly?

  Because of my big mouth.

  He should never have said anything about her clothes. It had been incredibly rude and presumptuous. It dawned on him slowly that he had also hurt her. The girl had so damn much pride, and he’d stomped all over it, making her reveal she had no clothes but the uniforms from school. Apache women were no different from other women, nor from a lot of men, for that matter. They liked to look their best. It had just never occurred to him that she didn’t have any other clothes.

  At least that was one thing he could fix as soon as they got home.

  She was back quickly with a stack of towels and a bowl of chipped ice. She placed them on the floor beside the bunk, then pulled open his medical bag. She held up the bottle of laudanum. “Will you take some this time?”

  Spence grimaced.

  “You enjoy the pain?”

  “I suppose you’re going to nag me.”

  “Why, yes, I think I will.”

  He closed his eyes, secretly pleased that she was at least speaking to him. “All right, Mother, I’ll take the laudanum.”

  It tasted as vile as he knew it would, reminding him to be a little more sympathetic with his future pat—

  He wasn’t going to have any future patients.

  She wrapped a handful of chipped ice in a towel and gently place it on his cheek. The pressure hurt at first, but the cold seeped through and gave him almost instant relief.

  He reached up to ho
ld the ice in place, but she pushed his hand away. “I’ll do it,” she said. “You just rest.”

  He closed his eyes again briefly, then covered her hand with his. “Thank you.”

  “Forget it.”

  “No. I…I don’t know why I said anything about your clothes. I shouldn’t have. I think I hurt your feelings, and I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry, LaRisa. Sorry for all of it. Do you think we can have a truce?”

  Her smile was slow in coming, and only tentative at best. “A truce would be nice. But white man,” she added with an arch of her brow. “I’m not your mother.”

  Spence frowned and closed his eyes. “I noticed.”

  Chapter Eight

  Their truce held. Even when she beat him at five card stud hand after hand, Spence took it with good grace and LaRisa had sense enough not to gloat.

  The last morning of their trip, the day dawned clear and bright. At breakfast in the dining car, LaRisa broached a subject that had been weighing on her mind. “You never did answer my question the other day about what I’m supposed to do when we get to Tucson.”

  “Well, since we’re not going to stay married—”

  LaRisa quickly lowered her gaze. He said it like he’d rather be married to a corpse than to her. Even knowing she certainly didn’t want to stay married to him either, his attitude stung. Then, too, the thought of ending up alone in a strange place frightened her, and that made her angry. What was she, some little coward who couldn’t take care of herself? Of course not. She would be just fine on her own.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “That look on your face means something. Don’t tell me…you want to stay married?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. To a white man? To you? Ha!”

  “Ah-ah-ah. Remember our truce.”

  LaRisa took a deep breath for calm. “I’m not trying to be antagonistic, and I’m not trying to make you angry. Yes, I agree that our staying married is out of the question. But just once in my life I’d like the decision to be left up to me instead of having everyone else decide my fate.”

  He surprised her when he said, “I guess I can understand that.”

  “Thank you. Now, you were saying?”

  Spence took a sip of coffee, trying to figure out what else was going on in her head, what it was she wasn’t saying. “Since we agree on ending our…current arrangement, there’s no point in telling anyone we’re married. That would only make things more awkward, particularly for you, after the annulment.”

  “How long will it take? The annulment, I mean.”

  “I don’t have any idea. I’ll have our lawyer start on it right away.”

  LaRisa started to speak, then stopped.

  “What?”

  She hated humbling herself by asking for his help, but she didn’t see any way around it. She didn’t have a cent to her name. “Will you…would it be possible for you to…lend me a few dollars? Just until I can find a job. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can, I swear.”

  Spence toyed with his fork. “What do you need the money for?”

  LaRisa swallowed. “For a room, a place to stay.”

  “Good God.” He dropped his fork. “Hell, no wonder you’re acting like a—I won’t lend you any money,” he said tightly. “I’ll give you whatever you need, and I’ll hear no talk of paying me back. But you’re not going to need money for a damn room. I thought you understood I was taking you home with me. Home doesn’t mean Tucson, it means the ranch. Damn, I can’t believe you thought I was just going to toss you off the train at Tucson and walk away.”

  “That’s very generous of you,” she said tightly, “but I can’t take your money.”

  “You can, and you will.”

  She glared at him. “You expect me to live off your charity?”

  “Does that look in your eyes mean our truce is over?”

  She tilted her head back and briefly closed her eyes. “I don’t mean to end the truce, but you’re doing it again—making my decisions for me.”

  “No, I’m providing you with a place to live so you can think about your options and decide what you want to do. You have to know that if you don’t stay at the ranch at least for a while, my family will be offended. Trust me, Mother and Serena are going to be thrilled to see you.”

  LaRisa hoped he was right about that. She dearly hoped he was right.

  “Oh!” LaRisa twisted sideways on the seat across from her bunk and leaned toward the window. “Oh! I know this place!”

  Spence changed seats and sat beside her to look out over her shoulder. “Texas Canyon.”

  She pressed her palms to the window. “I don’t remember what we called it, but I remember…”

  “Would you like to go outside on the platform for a better look?”

  She whirled, her black eyes alive with excitement. “Can we?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  Spence led her to the front of the car and out onto the small platform where their car coupled with the one ahead of it. A rush of wind whipped her skirt out. With a shriek of laughter, she caught it and held it down.

  “Look.” Spence took her to the left side of the platform and pointed out in a southeasterly direction. “I’m told Cochise’s old stronghold was in those mountains.”

  LaRisa gripped the railing tight and leaned out. “Then that’s where I was born.”

  Over the noise of the train and the wind, Spence barely heard her emotion-strained voice. Something in his chest tightened. Standing behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed. “Welcome home, LaRisa.”

  Home. The word made her throat ache. Oh, shitaa, thank you for making me promise to come. How I wish you were with me. The wind is sweet and the air is dry with the smell of sage. I’m home, shitaa, I’m home at last. With her vision blurring, she turned her head to look at Spence. “Thank you.”

  Those big black eyes swimming in tears did something to his heart rate. When they blinked and a tear rolled down her cheek, Spence didn’t worry about right or wrong or inappropriate. He did what came naturally—he leaned down and sipped the tear away with his lips.

  Her breath caught, and so did his. She whispered his name and it sent his blood rushing through his veins. He kissed her other cheek, her nose, the corner of her mouth. Then carefully, oh, so carefully, he brushed her lips with his. “LaRisa.”

  LaRisa felt paralyzed. Had she even wanted to move, she knew she wouldn’t have been able to. So sweet, so hot was the feel of his lips. Gentle, delicate, like the brush of butterfly wings. Feeling like a butterfly herself, she thought that if it weren’t for Spence’s hands on her shoulders, she could surely have flown. It was the most…incredible feeling, and it ended all too soon.

  He slowly raised his head and gave her a smile. “Welcome home, LaRisa.”

  It was late afternoon when the train rolled into Tucson. Spence and LaRisa gathered their belongings and made their way off the train.

  “Uncle Spence!” a young voice cried. “Uncle Spence! Over here!”

  At the end of the platform a big white banner at least five feet wide and two feet tall was stretched tight and held aloft on two wooden poles. Bold black letters announced: CONGRATULATIONS AND WELCOME HOME DR. & MRS. SPENCER COLTON! Joanna and Russ held one pole while Serena and Will held the other. All of them were waving and shouting.

  Pleasure and joy mixed with chagrin and dismay. “Well,” Spence said to LaRisa with a quirk of his lips. “So much for not telling anyone we’re married.”

  Serena broke rank first and dashed toward them. “Oh, Spence, we’re so glad you’re home.” She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. Funny how a man’s memory could play tricks on him. Spence could have sworn that it had been a lifetime since he’d hugged his sister.

  She released him slowly, then stepped back and turned to LaRisa. “My heavens, but you’ve grown into a beautiful woman.” She gave LaRisa a hug only slightly less exuberant than the one she’d give
n Spence. “You were so young the last time I saw you, you probably don’t remember me.”

  “Of course I do,” LaRisa said with a touch of awe. “I was in Mexico that time you brought the cattle.” Even if LaRisa had forgotten her face, the streak of white at Serena’s temple would have identified her.

  The others came then, the banner already rolled up and leaning against the side of the depot.

  “Spence!” Another fierce hug, this time accompanied by a kiss to cheek and chin.

  “Joanna, my God, look at you.” Emotion filled his throat. The little tomboy was all grown up, and she was beautiful.

  She touched his cheek at a spot below his bruise. “What happened to your face?”

  “Just a little accident,” Spence said.

  “Don’t hog him, Jo,” ten-year-old Will complained. “It’s my turn.” But instead of a hug, Will held out his hand for a shake.

  “I swear, boy,” Spence said, shaking his nephew’s hand. “You’ve grown two feet.”

  “Ah, Uncle Spence, I always had two feet.”

  “You’ve grown a smart mouth, too, I see. To heck with a handshake. Give me a hug, boy.”

  After the hug, Russ came next. “Serena, what do you feed these boys?” Spence demanded while hugging her oldest son. “He’s almost as tall as I am.”

  “What do you expect? You’ve been gone two years.”

  LaRisa watched it all, a little dazed by everyone’s enthusiasm. A dull ache formed in her chest. For so many years she had pictured her reunion with her father to be like this, happy, excited, a few tears of joy.

  Before she knew it, long before she was prepared, they all turned to her. Serena wore a beautiful blue dress with lace gracing the neck and the end of her sleeves. Another row of lace trimmed the hem and her matching hat. Joanna, with her vibrant red hair and bright green eyes, was dressed similarly in yellow. Both boys were neat as a pin in their denim pants, white shirts, string ties, and Western straw hats.

  And me in my boarding-school brown. LaRisa felt like cringing.