Tomorrow she'd tell Cynara she wanted to go order some garments at the dressmaker's shop. She'd point out that the visit would take too long for her sister to accompany her, as the babies would need feeding.
It would never work. They'd stop her.
Complication upon complication riddled the plan. And danger. For all she knew, Skelly had already sent a man after her. Rupert could have wired him in Kansas City to advise him she'd gone missing.
Would Chips come looking for her? He'd always been nice to her and she suspected he liked her. Could she convince him to let her go?
The following day, she emerged from her room to find Jared waiting for her in the hallway. "Healy, can I speak with you?"
Immediately, her pulse spiked, and a bad feeling invaded her stomach. What did he want to say? That he couldn't go on with the pretense of being married to her? That he'd realized he loved Melanie and didn't want to lose her? Healy could understand that, but what would it mean for her? Could he be eager enough to get his old life back that he'd be willing to help her escape?
He led her to a small open area where the hallway widened into a square surrounded by bedrooms. Two chairs bracketed a small table there.
"Sit down. I won't take much of your time." He waited for her to take her seat before sitting himself.
"What is it, Jared? Did you work things out with Melanie?"
"Sort of. But, sort of not. I told her the same thing Cynara did, that there was more at stake with all this than I could share with her. She kept saying if I loved her, I'd tell her the truth. The whole conversation went in circles getting nowhere. She did finally say that she trusts me and will give me some time."
"I'm very relieved to hear that, Jared. At least you have some hope now." She twisted her fingers together and sighed, a deep sadness opening inside her."I wish I'd never come here. Such a stupid thing to do."
"I'm glad you did." He leaned toward her earnestly."Stop worrying about it. We can keep you safe."
She glanced at him from under her eyelashes to better judge his mood. Wasn't he angry with her? She certainly would be if she were him. "I've done so much damage already. Every instinct I own says I should leave."
"No! Heaven's no, Healy. You can't go. Who'd protect you from that pigeon-livered rat bag?"
Healy threw out her arms in a gesture of futility. "I can't stand thinking I could be the cause of harm coming to any of you. I've come to…"
Love him? No, that wasn't what she'd been about to say. "I've come to love the babies so much and to care for everyone at High Mountain. And, of course, I love my sister. You've all been so kind. But I truly believe it would be best if I left."
He shook a finger at her. "Get that notion out of your head. Think about how your sister would feel if we allowed you to leave and something happened to you."
Yes. Cynara would suffer a great deal of guilt should Healy leave and fall into Skelly's hands. "Oh, Jared, I don't know what to do."
"Simply stay put. It will all work out. I promise."
He appeared so earnest, yet she knew he couldn't honestly make such a vow. Not everything in life was under his control. It would be better if she left tonight as she'd considered doing. Three roads met up a short distance from the ranch lane. She had only to follow one.
It wouldn't be easy, and she didn't want to go. She had to, to keep everyone at High Mountain safe. But she couldn't tell anyone, not even Cynara.
She thought of leaving the babies. Gage. Jared. She could almost swear she heard the crack as her heart broke.
You have no choice, Healy.
I don't want to leave.
Would you rather see little Gage hurt?
No!
Then you have no choice.
She stood. "Yes, you're right, Jared. Forget I said such a foolish thing. I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed. Goodnight."
He got to his feet. "You're not coming down to supper?"
She shook her head. "I'm not hungry."
"All right." Jared's sigh sounded sad."Goodnight, Healy."
"'Night." Her gaze followed him to the stairs before she turned toward her room.
And God bless you and your brothers. I'll never forget you.
The house had long grown quiet. Healy rose and pulled clothes on over flesh trembling with fear. Sitting at the dressing table, she wrote a shaky note for Cynara, saying not to look for her. Ready at last, she crept down the stairs. She stood a moment at the door and found she could not turn the knob. Not without seeing the babies one last time.
She gazed at their small sleeping forms, tears clogging her throat, and wished with all her heart, she didn't have to go. Leaning over the side of the crib, she kissed Gage's sweet head, stroked a hand over his hair. "I love you, baby. Don't forget me."
After throwing the others a kiss, she backed to the doorway, spun around and hurried out of the house.
A nearly full moon shown on the clear night sky, but Healy's first step outside caused her to shudder. Stepping back into the boot room, she borrowed a warmer coat from those hanging on the hooks. Outside, one of the dogs stirred and loped over to sniff her, then laid back down. Only the solitary wail of a coyote and the distant lowing of a cow gave sound to the darkness until she reached the stable, and a horse nickered.
She found Polka Dot's stall and set down her satchel while she saddled the mare. Hoping she'd tightened the cinch enough, she led the horse from the stall into the main section of the stable and came to a halt. A startled yelp escaped her throat.
The dark hulk of a man blocked her way.
She jumped backward so fast she had to grab for a post to keep from falling, releasing the reins.
"Scare you?" Jared asked. "I hope so. You deserve it for doing something this stupid."
"You don't understand how lethal Skelly can be when he's crossed, Jared. I can't risk anyone being hurt."
"I'll see if I can find a silver trophy in town to honor the heroic sacrifice you planned to make." He took a tight hold on her upper arm and pulled her toward the stable entrance. "Meanwhile, you're returning to bed, and I'll make sure you stay there if I have to join you to do it. Got that?"
She studied him. Did he mean that? He'd crawl into her bed with her? No, she didn't believe that. Jared had too much honor to do such a thing.
And if she were wrong and he did follow through on his threat, what would she do? Kick him out, of course. What else could she do? She refused to think how tempting it would be to let him stay. To beg him to hold her and never leave.
Taking Polka Dot's reins, he handed them to Roy who'd stepped out of the darkness.
She tugged on her arm, but Jared's grip held. "Yes, but you're the one being stupid for not letting me go. If something bad happens to anyone on this ranch, it will be on your shoulders, not mine."
"Responsibility is hell."
Jared didn't join her in the bed. He spread a bedroll outside her door instead. Lying there, listening to the house creak, he asked himself why he'd made that particular threat. What would she have done if he had crawled into bed with her?
Probably bean him with the lamp or pummel him with her fists. It would be a soft pummeling, dealt by those gentle hands. She hadn't the strength of a sick lark.
What was he thinking? A sick lark? She might be weak in muscle, but she had abundant smarts and a level of determination a charging bull couldn't trample.
How would he have felt if she'd made good on her escape, and he'd awakened in the morning to find her gone? He didn't want to know. Somehow, the prospect scared him more than facing this Skelly fellow and his hired thugs did.
Sleep came in fits and starts, each noise the house made waking him until the wee hours of morning when he fell into deep slumber. A sudden deluge of water over his head woke him. Peering through wet eyelashes he saw Healy glaring at him. Then she dropped the empty jug onto his gut, stepped over him and marched down the stairs.
Jared caught the ceramic pot before it tumbled off his stomach and set
it aside. He sat up and shook the water from his hair like a dog. By golly, she was a spitfire. Only she would have had the guts to do what she'd just done. She was glorious. And she made him laugh. He sat there, laughing and still dripping, when Barclay and Cynara came from their room.
"What is it you find so hilarious?" Barclay asked.
"And," Cynara added, grinning, "why are you sleeping in front of my sister's door? Are you declaring your love to her by any chance?"
Jared laughed harder.
Blackie Sloughrode into Cutthroat on Monday morning before stores opened. The streets stood empty. He tied his big black stallion outside the Willow Café, thinking how good a nice breakfast would taste. Too bad it wasn't open yet. A bench sat against the wall of the saloon next door. He lowered himself onto it, leaned back, his arms behind his head, and promptly fell asleep.
He woke to find an old codger staring at him. The badge on his vest said why. The marshal.
"How-do," the marshal said, causing the toothpick in his mouth to wobble.
Blackie straightened and drew in his too-long legs that had been blocking the boardwalk. Whoever made the beds and benches of the world couldn't seem to make one long enough to accommodate him. "Morning. Reckon you want to know who I am and what I'm doing here. Is that right?"
"Right as rain. You gonna tell me?" the lawman asked.
Blackie shoved himself to his feet. He preferred to face the law standing, his height giving him an advantage and all. "Tell ya anything ya want to know. Handle's Blackie Slough. Rode up from Wyoming to check out the country up here. Heard tell it was a dandy place for cattle."
The marshal pulled the toothpick from his mouth and stuck it in his shirt pocket. Whether he disliked littering or meant to save it for later, Blackie neither knew nor cared.
"I'm Marshal Vining. I make a point of becoming acquainted with newcomers. Makes life easier, in case they're meaning trouble here."
"You won't get no trouble from me, Marshal." Blackie noticed the scent of bacon frying coming from the café next door, and his stomach promptly growled. "I'm hungry. You eat yet? I'm buying."
"Don't mind if I do."
Together they walked the few steps it took to reach the café door. Inside, chairs of various sizes and shapes sat at tables that matched them perfectly. Cowboy modern, Blackie liked to call it. He'd been to a hundred cow towns just like this one.
They found a table by the window and sat down, the marshal with his rear to the wall and Blackie on the opposite side. Hell, he didn't know of anyone wanting to shoot him in the back. The menu, a single piece of cardstock printed front side only, listed the usual: eggs, fried or poached, bacon, ham, beefsteak, toast, biscuits with gravy and fried potatoes. Blackie ordered everything, including coffee and a glass of water.
Why cafés never offered his last request, Blackie couldn't figure. He supposed it had to do with folks being afraid of water, thinking it unhealthy and all. Struck him as downright silly. Cows and deer drank from creeks and rivers. Why not people? What did they think filled their wells? Just had to be careful to fill your canteen upstream.
'Course, he'd never been to a big city like Denver or St. Louis. He'd heard their rivers were tainted from folks dumping garbage and emptying outhouses into them—one reason he had no desire to go anywhere farther east than Cheyenne.
His boss lived in St. Louis. Blackie feared the day would come when Mr. Bernard would want him to come there, and then he'd lose his job 'cause he had no notion of going to that city.
"So, how long you been marshal of Cutthroat here?" he asked the lawman sitting across from him.
"Town's only existed for eight years." Vining added sugar to his coffee. "Been the law here that long."
Blackie glanced out the window. "Seems a quiet town."
"And I aim to keep it that way." Vining tasted his brew, added more sugar, tasted it again. Seeming satisfied, he finally put the cup down. "How long you plan on visiting this part of the country?"
Blackie shrugged. "Depends."
"On what?"
Hell, but Vining was proving to be a snoopy lawman. "On what I find here. If the land ain't to my liking, I'll move on."
"I see."
The waitress, a skinny little thing with freckles nearly as big as pennies, brought their food. That ended conversation between the two men, eating being important business that required a man's full attention.
Healy picked Gage up out of his crib and held him close, nuzzling the fuzz on his head with her chin. "Why can't grown men be as sweet as you, my little darling? You wouldn't stop me from doing what's right, would you?"
He gurgled, pushed at her face, then grabbed her nose, giggling. With a gasp, she gingerly freed her stinging appendage from his surprisingly strong grip. "Well, most of the time, you're sweet. More so than a certain man I could name. And I still love you."
She laid the wet infant on the changing table. "Your mama will be here soon to feed you, but we'll get this done and out of the way first, eh?"
"Mama," he said, gazing up at her, his little hands reaching for her.
Healy laughed. "I've never heard you say that before."
Mama. How lovely that sounded. She bent and kissed his cheek and the top of his head, her heart flooded with emotions and desires she feared would never be fulfilled. "I'm not your mama, honey. Oh, but I'd like to be. You'll never know how much I wish you belonged to me."
Cynara stepped into the room. "If you'd like to be his mama, marry my brother-in-law, and I'll turn him over to you."
Healy gave a dry laugh. "I don't know why I'm laughing. It's not funny, really. Besides, I happen to be miffed at your brother-in-law."
"I suspected that, after seeing what you did to him. What happened? Why did he sleep outside your room?"
"Never mind. You should have come in sooner. You'd have heard Gage call me Mama."
Cynara gasped. "You're joshing me! I heard you say you wished he was yours, but… Did he truly?"
"Yep." Healy's laugh was genuine this time as she pinned a clean diaper in place. "Of course, he babbled as usual so it may have been a simple coincidence that he'd hit on those syllables. But he did say it."
Picking him up, Cynara held Gage in front of her, jiggling him until he giggled. "Did you say mama? Or is Aunty Healy trying to put one over on me?"
Aunty. She didn't want to be Gage's aunty. She wanted to be his mama.
"Healy tried to put one over on all of us last night." Jared entered the room. His comb had plowed rows in his wet hair. He'd changed his shirt, looking as delectable as French pastry in a bakery window. "I caught her trying to leave with Polka Dot, and not just for a midnight ride. She meant to leave for good."
Cynara whirled to face her sister. "Did you truly do that, Healy? Why? You're safe here. Why would you want to endanger yourself that way?"
"So I wouldn't endanger all of you." Healy picked up Vella who'd pulled herself up to her crib rail and begun fussing. "And these sweet little ones. I still think it's the right thing to do."
"Well, you're wrong," Cynara stated emphatically. "How did you catch her, Jared?"
"She talked about doing it yesterday, so I waited in the stable and sure enough, just after midnight, she showed up."
"Oh, Healy." Cynara handed Gage to Jared while she plucked Connor from his bed. All three babies fretted now. "These little ones are hungry. Jared, disappear somewhere while I feed them."
"All right." He stepped closer to Healy and poked a finger in her face. "You, I'll be watching."
She clamped down on his finger with her teeth.
"Hey!" He pulled, and she let him slowly slide the digit free.
Some fine, invisible atmospheric change came over the room as they stared at each other, Jared holding up his finger moist from her mouth and Healy shocked by her own impulsive behavior.
"I can't believe you did that." Jared's voice had taken on a gruffness that caused a tingling deep inside Healy.
"I can't either," she s
aid, backing away.
"That makes three of us." Cynara settled on the bed with Connor, throwing a blanket over her shoulder. "I'm feeling like a fifth wheel here. Maybe I should be the one to leave."
"No," Healy said quickly. "I'm going."
Cynara snorted. "You're not the one who needs to go."
"I get the hint." Jared backed toward the door, his gaze never leaving Healy's flushed face. Then he was gone.
Cynara blew out a breath. "Whew. What a scene I just witnessed. I was half-joking before about you marrying Jared for real, but maybe it's not such a bad idea, huh?"
"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Healy wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a sudden chill now that he'd left. "He's terribly pushy."
"The question, sister dear, is how do you feel about him?"
"I don't think I want to talk about that right now." Healy rubbed her stomach."I'm hungry and I need some coffee. Do you want some?"
"Definitely. Black, please," Cynara said.
"I know how you take your coffee, sister." Healy quit the room and strolled to the kitchen, hoping, if she took long enough, Jared would be gone.
He wasn't. He sat at the table, big as life, looking deep in thought—until he saw her. He popped off his chair like a child's mechanized toy. "Just who I wanted to see."
"Why? I think we've said enough in the last twelve hours, haven't we?" Healy took down Cynara's cup with the baby painted on the side and carried it and an unmarked one to the stove where Oysters stirred fried potatoes and whistled a soft tune, trying to mind his own business.
"No," Jared said, grabbing her hand as she set the cups down. "There's one more thing we need to get straight between us."
"Oh, is that so?" She set her fists on her hips and glared at him. He had more nerve than any man she'd ever known, except perhaps Skelly. But Jared was no Skelly.
"Damn right, it is." With that, he dragged her from the house, across the yard, into the stable and, finally, into his workroom.
"What do you think you're doing, Jared Givens?" She grabbed hold of the door jamb with her free hand, but too late.
Jared (Bachelors And Babies Book 7) Page 8