Chastity (31 page)

    The soul- wrenching litany drummed over and again in her mind. She had tried so hard to hold on to Reed when the bullet struck him, but she could not.

    Despising the weakness that allowed a tear to fall, Chastity forced it back. She was still trying to stand when Morgan appeared in the doorway of the room.

    She hated him! She despised him with every     ounce of strength in her body! She would see him pay for what he had done!

    Morgan walked toward her, frowning.

    Hatred forcing a new determination, Chastity reached toward him with a smile.

    "You shouldn't be tryin' to get up yet."

    Morgan approached Chastity. He took the hand she held out to him. She attempted to smile, but her lips trembled with weakness. Her glorious mane of hair was tousled, her light skin so pale, it was almost transparent. Shadows ringed her eyes, emphasizing the verdant color of orbs that glistened with moistness. The picture was one of a beauty as fragile and delicate as glass. Morgan longed to possess it. He hungered to make it his.

    He whispered hoarsely, "You should be restin'. You lost a lot of blood."

    "I want to get up."

    Morgan slid his arm around her, supporting her as she wavered. "You'll start your shoulder bleedin' again."

    "I have to get up. I want to see Reed."

    Morgan tensed. He curled his arm more tightly around her. "He's not here, Chastity."

    Morgan felt the shock that rocked her.

    "But you said he was."

    "No, you're mistaken." Jealousy swelled at the emotion Chastity struggled to withhold. He continued softly, "He was shot. He fell from the wagon. When the renegades rode off, we saw them dragging his body behind them."

    Chastity gasped.

    "I'm sorry, Chastity." Morgan tightened his arm around her. He drew her against his chest. He breathed in the scent of her hair, a sudden lust rising so sharply that he was hard put not to take her then and there.

    No, he wanted more. He wanted this woman to
give
herself to him. He wanted to own her, body and soul. He would have it no other way.

    Chastity was trembling.

    "You have to lie down, Chastity. You have to rest." Morgan managed a tender smile. "We're goin' to be leavin' here in another day or so."

    "We need to tell someone." He saw the difficulty with which she continued, "… about the Indians."

    "We will. We'll tell them what the Indians did."

    "Yes."

    Morgan
lay
Chastity back on the bed. He lifted the coverlet and drew it up over her, frowning at the bloodstained dress she still wore. He wound his fingers in the fiery curls stretched across the pillow, then leaned over her to touch his mouth to her cheek.

    He felt the shock that again rippled through her. It sent his blood surging. Drawing back, barely controlling himself, he whispered, "Go to sleep now."

    Turning away from the bed, Morgan saw Conchita in the doorway. Taking her arm as he drew the door closed behind him, he spat out, "Get that dress off her when she wakes up and   put her in something
clean
, do you understand? I won't have her lying there that way."

    "Yes, Morgan."

    Releasing Conchita, Morgan dismissed her from his mind as well. He had a schedule to keep. They would be finished branding soon, and when the herd was sold, he'd leave this place and everyone in it behind him.

    Then he would have time only for Chastity.

    Reed watched Morgan emerge from the cabin and walk back to the branding corrals with a purposeful stride.

    Reed withdrew from the edge of the rise. Was Chastity inside the cabin? He needed to know.

    His head aching, Reed struggled to clear his mind. She had to be there. He had seen the look in Morgan's eyes. Morgan wouldn't have let her get away from him.

    But he had to be sure.

    His head was throbbing.

    Conchita shook with rage.

    Put her in something clean, do you understand? I won't have her lying there that way.

    Morgan's words reverberated in her mind. His touch had once sought her female flesh hungrily. It was now cruel and hard. His words had formerly been gentle and loving. They were now cold and without heart. She had been a fool to believe he loved her.

    Fury consuming her, Conchita approached the clothing folded neatly in the corner of the    room. She withdrew a cotton nightgown, her smile rigid. She would dress the red-haired woman in this gown. Morgan would recognize it. She had worn that gown often when she lay beside him those times when Morgan and she had made love with a passion so intense that her heart had almost stopped.

    Yes, he would remember, and he would think of her. He would feel the heat of those moments again. He would not be able to look at the red-haired woman without thinking of the way they had loved.

    Her hand twisting tightly in the soft white cotton, Conchita walked into the rear room and paused beside the red-haired woman's bed. She was sleeping. Her face was still, her breast heaving slowly beneath the bandage visible there. The gold locket she wore lay in the hollow of her throat. It mocked her, and Conchita reached out to tear it from its rest.

    The red- haired woman's eyes snapped open the moment she touched it. Thrusting her hand away, the woman clenched the locket tightly in her palm, shielding it from her touch.

    Conchita smiled, speaking with true pleasure. "I do not want your locket! I have seen one like it before. Another young woman wore it just as you do. She displayed it just as proudly against her white throat, holding it just as you do now, but she was more beautiful than you. Her hair was as black as pitch and her eyes as blue as the sky above. She worked in a saloon, this woman with a locket like yours. She was a
puta
.
She  cheated
at cards, and she cheated at love, and everyone knew her for what she was. So, you may keep your locket… for it reminds all who see it that you are a woman who is no different than
me
."

    The red- haired woman blinked. She rasped, "This woman you speak of… tell me her name."

    Conchita laughed.

    "Tell me her name!"

    Conchita shrugged. "That woman had no name. Like me, she was no one."

    Her smile never more true, Conchita threw the gown on the bed and walked away.

Chapter Eleven

    Twilight darkened the sky, muting the glory of vermillion clouds that floated in the brilliant pink and gold of the setting sun. But Reed had little thought for the beauty of the waning day. Instead, he lay on the summit of the rise where he had waited most of the day, watching the cabin.

    It galled him when he awakened on several occasions that his concentration had lapsed and sleep had overwhelmed him. But the value of those moments became apparent as his strength rapidly returned. Thinking more clearly, he determined that he needed to ascertain whether Chastity was indeed inside that cabin before he could make his move.

    Reed chewed the last, stringy strips of jerky   with determination. Morgan and his men had been hard at work through the day. They were only now leaving the branding fire. They made no attempt to herd new animals into the enclosure. He suspected they would soon be ready to move the herd.

    Morgan and his men approached the cabin. Smoke had been rising from the chimney throughout the day, an indication that the woman he had seen earlier was hard at work there. The woman had been young. Somehow, he could not make himself believe that she could belong to anyone other than Morgan if his reputation with women was to be believed.

    If so, where was Chastity? What had they done with her? He could not believe they would have gone through the trouble of driving the wagon back to the cabin if Chastity had not been in it.

    Darkness was falling. Time was growing short. Where was she?
How
was she?

    
''How do you feel, Chastity?"

    Hatred rose inside Chastity, so sharp and strong that it almost slipped from her lips as Morgan approached her. She had dozed most of the day, and she was grateful, for the waking moments had been almost more than she could bear. The memory of Reed's deep voice in her ear as they had lain intimately close, his breath on her cheek, the warmth of him pressed tightly against her, had assailed her with aching grief.

    Reed was dead.

  The thought had drummed over and again in her mind. But with her returning strength came a strengthening of her resolve. She would not waste time on tears. Instead, she would see Morgan pay for what he had done. She had made that promise to Reed during the long night past. With all the anguished love in her heart, she had promised. Morgan thought she was a fool whom he could manipulate with his charm. She had been such a person once, but she would never be that kind of fool again. Her short acquaintance with Morgan had taught her that treachery often wore a smile. She intended to use that lesson well.

    Chastity looked at Morgan. He was waiting for her reply. She managed a weak smile. "I feel better. I want to get up."

    "No, you're too weak."

    "I want to walk." Chastity was determined. "I… I've been too much trouble. I need to get back on my feet so I can take care of myself."

    "Too much trouble..?" Morgan's boyish features twitched. "Did Conchita complain? Did she mistreat you?"

    "No." A chill moved down Chastity's spine at the flash of viciousness in his words. That same viciousness had taken Reed's life. "No, I… I need to see that Reed's death is reported so someone will go after those renegade Indians. I need to know they will pay." Chastity took a breath as her composure briefly failed.

    Morgan leaned closer. Chastity's flesh crawled as he whispered, "I know. Don't worry    about that now. I'll take care of that for you when we get to the nearest town. You shouldn't be thinkin' about anythin' but gettin' well. You aren't well enough to walk yet."

    "I am."

    "No."

    "Yes, I am."

    Chastity felt Morgan stiffen. He didn't like being challenged. She saw the conflict that raged behind his pleasant mask before he responded, "All right.
Just a few steps."

    Chastity stood up slowly, the desire to strike away Morgan's supportive arm almost more than she could withstand. Her legs wobbling, she took one step, then another. Willing herself stronger, she straightened her back, her step growing
more steady
. She looked up to see Conchita standing in the doorway, her expression cold.

    The truth was suddenly clear. Morgan had thrust Conchita into the past when he marked her for his future.

    Chastity took another determined breath. "I can walk alone."

    Morgan's grip tightened. "No."

    "I want to."

    "No."

    Lifting her suddenly from her feet, Morgan carried her back to the bed and laid her there. He pulled up the coverlet as she began, "Mr. Jefferson, I"

    His head snapped back toward her. "Call me Morgan." He frowned. "Everyone does. It's my   middle name. I'd feel more comfortable if you did."

    "Morgan…" The irony in his admission hardened Chastity's determination. She would see him admit to other things as well, if it was the last thing she ever did. "I know you think you know what's best for me, but"

    "I do know what's best for you, especially now." Morgan's dark eyes grew earnest. "You're alone, Chastity. You don't know this country. I do. You can rely on me to take care of you." He paused, his voice deepening, "I want you to trust me."

    Trust him. Chastity's stomach revolted.

    "Are you all right? You look pale."

    "I'm fine."

    "You need something to eat." Morgan looked back at Conchita, who still stood by the door. "Get Chastity something to eat." She did not move, and Morgan grated, "Get itnow."

    He waited a long moment until Conchita turned away, then looked back at Chastity, his color high as he strove for control. "She's a moody witch, even if she is a good cook. I'll be glad to be rid of her."

    "She talked to me a little this morning. She mentioned she saw another woman wearing a locket like mine. She didn't remember her name."

    "I doubt there ever was such a person. What else did she say?"

    
"Nothing.
She doesn't seem to like to talk."

    "She's moody, just as I said. But you won't   have to worry about her much longer. We're goin' to start the herd movin' tomorrow."

    
"Tomorrow?"
Chastity caught her breath.

    Morgan
smiled,
his charm resurfacing. "You'll be ridin' in the wagon. Conchita can drive. When we reach town, I'm goin' to get you to the nearest doctor." His voice dropped a husky note softer." I want to make sure you're healin' right. You're special to me, you know."

    
Hypocrite.