To kill was the greatest sin, the most unforgivable. Yet he had killed, and would surely kill again. Knowing it, she couldn’t care for him. But care she did. And want she did. And need.
Her hands were wrist-deep in water when she brought herself back. She had no business even thinking this way. Thinking about him. If she had to think of a man, she’d do better to think of Samuel Carlson. He was well-mannered, polished. He would know the proper way to treat a lady. There would be no wild, groping kisses from a man like him. A woman would be safe, cherished, cared for.
But she wished Jake had offered to drive her home. This was nonsense. Sarah wrung out the shirt and rubbed her nose with the back of her damp hand. She’d had enough nonsense for the time being. She would wash thoughts of Jake away just as she washed the grime and grit and the good Lord knew what from Lucius’s shirt.
She wanted her life to be tidy. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as grand as she’d once imagined, but it would be tidy. Even here. Sitting back on her heels, she looked around. The sun was heading toward the buttes in the west. Slowly, like a big golden ball in a sky the color of Indian paintbrush. The rocks towered, their odd, somewhat mystical shapes rising up and up, some slender as needles, others rough and thick.
There was a light smell of juniper here, and the occasional rustle that didn’t alarm her as it once would have. She watched an eagle soar, its wings spread wide. King of the sky. Below, the stream gurgled, making its lazy way over the rocks.
Why, it was beautiful. She lifted a hand to her throat, surprised to discover that it was aching. She hadn’t seen it before, or hadn’t wanted to. There was a wild, desolate, marvelous beauty here that man hadn’t been able to touch. Or hadn’t dared. If the land was lawless, perhaps it deserved to be.
For the first time since she had arrived, she felt a sense of kinship, of belonging. Of peace. She’d been right to stay, because this was home. Hers. At long last, hers.
When she rose to spread the shirt over a rock, she was smiling. Then she saw the shadow, and she looked up quickly.
There were five of them. Their black hair was loose past their bare shoulders. All but one sat on a horse. It was he who stepped toward her, silent in knee-length moccasins. There was a scar, white and puckered, that ran from his temple, catching the corner of his eye, then curving like a sickle down his cheek. She saw that, and the blade of the knife he carried. Then she began to scream.
Lucius heard the rider coming and strapped his gun-belt on over his long underwear. With soap still lathered all over his face, he stepped out of the shed. Jake pulled up his mount and took a long, lazy look. “Don’t tell me it’s spring already.”
“Damn women.” Lucius spit expertly.
“Ain’t that the truth?” After easing off his horse, Jake tossed the reins over the rail. Lafitte immediately leaped up to rest his paws on his thigh. In the way dogs have, he grinned and his tongue lolled. “Going to a dance or something?”
“No, I ain’t going any where.” Lucius cast a vicious look toward the house. “She threatened me. Yes, sir, there’s no two ways about it, it was a threat. Said less’n I took myself a bath and let her wash my clothes she’d pour out every last drop of whiskey in the bottle she brought.”
With a grin of his own, Jake leaned against the rail and rolled a cigarette. “Maybe she’s not as stupid as she looks.”
“She looks okay,” Lucius muttered. “Got a streak of stubborn in her, though.” He wiped a soapy hand on the thigh of his long underwear. “What are you doing out here?” “Came out to talk to you.”
“Like hell. I got eyes. She ain’t in there,” he said when Jake continued to stare at the house.
“I said I came to talk to you.” Annoyed, Jake flicked a match and lit his cigarette. “Have you done any checking in the mine?”
“I’ve taken a look. She don’t give a body much free time.” He picked up a rock and tossed it so that the puppy would have something to chase. “Always wanting something built or fixed up. Cooks right good, though.” He patted his belly. “Can’t complain about that.”
“See anything?”
“I saw where Matt was working some, right enough. And the cave-in.” He spit again. “Can’t say I felt real good about digging my way past it. Now, maybe if you told me what it was I was supposed to be looking for.”
“You’ll know if you find it.” He looked back at the house. She’d put curtains on the windows. “Does she ever go up there?”
“Goes up, not in. Sits by his grave sometimes. Breaks your heart.”
“Sounds like you’re going soft on her, old man.”
He reached down to give Lafitte a scratch on the head. “Wouldn’t talk if I was you.” He only laughed when Jake looked at him. There weren’t many men who would have dared. “Don’t go icing up on me, boy. I’ve known you too long. Might interest you to know that Samuel Carlson paid a call.”
Jake blew out smoke with a shrug. “I know.” He waited, took another drag, then swore under his breath. “Did he stay long?”
“Long enough to make up to her. Kissing her hands, he was. Both of them.”
“Is that so?” The fury burned low in his gut and spread rapidly. Eyes narrowed, he flicked the cigarette away, half finished, and watched it smolder. “Where is she?”
“Down to the stream, I imagine.”
Lucius smothered a laugh and bent down to pick up Lafitte before the puppy could scramble after Jake. “I wouldn’t, if I was you, young fella. There’s going to be fireworks fit for Independence Day.”
Jake wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he didn’t think Sarah was going to like it. He hoped she didn’t. She needed a short rein, he decided. And he was going to see to it himself. Letting Carlson paw all over her. Just the thought of it made small, jagged claws of jealousy slice through him.
When he heard her scream, both guns were out of their holsters and in his hands in a heartbeat. He took the last quarter of a mile at a run, her screams and the sound of running horses echoing in his head.
When he reached the stream he saw the dust the ponies had kicked up. Even at a distance he recognized Little Bear’s profile. There was a different kind of fire in him now. It burned ice-cold as he bolstered his weapons. Lafitte came tearing down the path, snarling. “You’re too late again,” Jake told the dog as he sniffed the ground and whined. He turned as Lucius came running in nothing more than his gunbelt and long Johns.
“What happened?” Jake said nothing. Hunkering down, Lucius studied the marks left by the struggle. ‘”Paches.” He saw his shirt, freshly washed and drying in the sun. “Damn it all to hell.” Still swearing, he raced down the path toward Jake. “Let me get on my spare shirt and my boots. They don’t have much of a lead.”
“I’m going alone.”
“There was four of them, maybe more.”
“Five.” Jake strode back into the clearing. “I ride alone.”
“Listen, boy, even if it was Little Bear, that don’t give you no guarantees. You weren’t no more than kids last time, and you chose different ways.”
“It was Little Bear, and I’m not looking for guarantees.”
He swung into the saddle. “I’m going to get her back.”
Lucius put a hand on the saddle horn. “See that you do.”
“If I’m not back tomorrow sundown, go get Barker. I’ll leave a trail even he can follow.” He kicked his horse into a gallop and headed north.
She hadn’t fainted, but she wasn’t so sure that was a blessing. She’d been tossed roughly onto the back of a horse, and she was forced to grip its mane to keep from tumbling off. The Indian with the scar rode behind her, calling out to his companions occasionally and gesturing with a new government-issue Winchester. He’d dragged her by her hair to get her astride the horse, and he still seemed fascinated by it. When she felt him push his nose into it, she closed her eyes, shuddered and prayed.