Come the Spring (40 page)

He would have gone on and on if she hadn't interrupted him. “My father left when I was very young. I don't remember much about him except that I had to stay away from him when he was drinking, and it seemed he was always holding a glass in one hand and a bottle in the other.”

“What about your mother?”

“I think his leaving changed her, but I can't be certain. She dried up inside. She used to tell me she had to be hard on me so I wouldn't make the same mistakes she made.”

“Did she ever praise you?”

“I don't remember,” she said. “I loved my mother, but I don't want to be like her, and I'm afraid that maybe it's too late for me to change.”

“You aren't like her,” he said. “You don't know how to be hard.”

When she tried to turn away, he tilted her chin so she would look at him again.

“You praise Caleb all the time. I've heard you tell him how smart he is and how sweet…”

“Children need to know they're loved. They must have constant reassurance.”

“You need to be reassured too, don't you?”

She didn't answer him.

“Do you know what attracted me to you?”

She shook her head.

“When I first met you, you were standing behind a screen door at Tilly's house. Remember?”

“I was terrified.”

“Yeah, I know you were. Well, I thought you were about the prettiest woman in the territory.”

“You did?” she whispered breathlessly. “I was wearing an old, faded dress.”

He laughed. “I didn't pay much attention to what you had on. I was trying to picture what was underneath. You have a very shapely body, Jessie, and I couldn't wait to get my hands on you.”

He couldn't believe she was blushing, yet she was, and he thought that was one of the hundred or so reasons why he loved her.

“I was already intrigued, because I had heard about this young lady who went to visit her aunt and ended up taking on the responsibility of becoming a mother to a newborn. Do you know how few women would have done what you did? The responsibility of raising a child alone is staggering, and a lot of women couldn't or wouldn't have done it. They would have dropped him off at the nearest foundling home and gone on their way.”

“It isn't a hardship. Caleb's the joy of my life.”

“Remember I told you how my brothers and I became a family? I was part of a gang back then and awfully young when we found Mary Rose in the alley we called home. I was headed for disaster,” he added. “Mary Rose changed my life and so did my brothers. I didn't raise my sister alone, though. I had three brothers to help.”

“But I—”

Before she could continue, he interrupted. “I love your strength and your courage, and I love the fact that you bring out the best in me. Those are just a couple of the reasons.” He gently cupped the sides of her face. “I didn't want to fall in love with you.”

“Then why don't you stop?” she asked gently.

“Sweetheart, that's like asking me to stop breathing. Ah, Jessie, I need you in my life.”

He bent down and proceeded to drive her crazy by kissing every inch of her throat.

“How come you always smell like flowers?”

The question was simply too complicated to answer.
She should stop him, she thought, even as she tilted her head so he could kiss the spot directly under her earlobe that was so sensitive to his touch.

“You're doing it on purpose … You know how much I like … but we can't…”

“One kiss, Jessie. Just one kiss.”

Her hands were gripping his shirt, and she didn't protest at all or turn away.

It felt so wonderful, so right, to be in his arms. The seduction of his loving words was her undoing. She leaned up on tiptoe and willingly let herself be swept away. His mouth moved over hers greedily. Passion was instantaneous, explosive. One kiss wasn't enough for either one of them, and as his mouth slanted over hers again and again, she began to shiver with her need.

She didn't want him to stop. When he lifted his head, she leaned up and kissed him again.

He stopped her from going any further. He pried her hands away from his shirt, wrapped her in his arms, and tried to catch his breath. “You don't know how to hold back, do you, sweetheart?”

He sounded happy about that fact, and so she didn't ask him to explain.

Draping his arm around her shoulder, he led her back to camp. “I'm going to have to teach you all about pacing.” He smiled just thinking about it.

She tried to pay attention to what he was saying, but his kisses had robbed her of the ability to think about anything at all but making love to him. “I don't know what's wrong with me. I used to be a lady until you came into my life.”

“You still are a lady.”

“I knew what I was doing the other night. I practically seduced you, and I promised myself that we would have one night together, but just a couple of minutes ago, I was thinking about having one more night.”

He groaned. “Jessie, we need to talk about something else.”

“Why?”

He decided to be blunt. “Because I'm already hot and bothered, and if you keep talking about making love again, I won't be able to hold out until after we're married.”

“Cole…”

He squeezed her. “Don't you dare ask me how long I'll stay with you.”

“I wasn't going to ask you that.”

“Yes, you were.”

“What if I can't ever give you what you want, what you deserve? A wife should be able to trust her husband, but I don't think I could ever… What if…”

He didn't let her finish. “Then I guess you're going to be real worried every time I leave the house. I'll always come back to you and Caleb, though, and maybe in about twenty years or so, you'll catch on. I'm in this for the long haul. I meant it when I told you it was forever. And by the way, you will tell me you love me before our wedding day. Now please change the subject.”

“Do you think Caleb's all right?”

“Yes,” he answered. “He's probably going to have an aversion to fried foods for the rest of his life, but he's being loved and spoiled.”

“I had a nice long talk with Tom,” she remarked.

“What'd you talk about?”

“You.”

He shot her a glance. “What'd he tell you?”

“He was full of stories about you.”

“Like what?”

“Abilene.”

His shoulders sagged. “I had hoped to get married before you found out about that.”

“You act like you did something wrong.”

“I shot a woman, Jessie.”

He waited for her to grill him with questions or tell him he'd been wrong to take that chance with a woman's life hanging in the balance.

“It was very clever of you.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

“I said it was very clever of you.”

“I shot the woman,” he reminded her.

“Oh, it was a flesh wound. You're very good with a gun, aren't you?”

“Jessie, you act like we're talking about the weather. You aren't at all shocked, are you?”

“Of course not.”

“The end doesn't justify the means.”

“You feel guilty.”

“Yes.”

“It was a practical solution.”

“Yes, but…”

“You saved her life.”

“Then how come I felt so rotten afterwards?” It was the first time since it had happened that he had admitted the truth to anyone, even himself.

He was giving her another glimpse into his heart by letting her see his vulnerability. He showed the world such a hard, unbending exterior, but underneath all the shields was a kind, gentle man who cared deeply about others.

“Because you're honorable.” She leaned up and kissed him, then took hold of his hand and started walking again. “Grace sold another hat today.”

“What?” he asked, confused by the rapid change in subjects.

“I said Grace sold another hat today. Isn't that nice?”

Jessica was ready to move on, and that practical side of her was yet another reason he had to add to his list when she asked him again why he loved her.

“Who'd she sell it to?”

“A very nice woman … Well, she wasn't nice at first, she was actually quite hostile, but Grace has a way of putting people at ease and within minutes they were chatting like old friends. She gave Grace seven dollars. I think she would have paid more, but Grace said this was a working woman and couldn't spare another cent. Grace tried to give the woman her hat until she realized pride was involved. It was a good bargain, don't you think?”

“What kind of job could a woman get in that fleabag town?”

“Her office is in one of the rooms above the saloon.”

He grinned. “You do know what she does for a living, don't you?”

“Yes, but I wanted to see you smile again. You worry too much.”

He would have argued with her, but they'd reached camp and Grace was sleeping, so he didn't say another word. He did kiss her good night, though, and was pleased to notice that she looked thoroughly dazed when he was finished.

Daniel ignored them. Grace was curled up on her side, facing him.

After Cole moved his bedroll close to Jessica's, Daniel moved his so that he could sleep next to Grace. He fell asleep thinking about her, and sometime during the night he felt her take hold of his hand. For now, it was enough.

Thirty-Seven
 

The curtain was about to rise on the final act.

Rebecca dressed with care, choosing a virginal white dress with a modest, yet seductive, neckline. There was just enough cleavage to ensure that the recently widowed judge would stare. Donald had told her she would have to convince Rafferty of Bell's innocence before he could be released by the sheriff.

She thought about carrying a Bible with her, then changed her mind. She mustn't overdo the role she was going to play.

She finished brushing her hair and stood up to preen in front of the mirror. Men liked women who wore their hair long and free, and hers was exceptional. The lustrous curls shimmered in the sunlight like strands of gold.

The bedroom door suddenly opened, and her lover strolled inside. She tossed the brush on the table and turned to him. “You took a chance coming here. Did anyone see you?”

“Of course not. I'm always careful. I came up the
back way.” Rebecca dressed in white was such a mockery he wanted to laugh. She actually looked pure and untouched.

“Donald, is everything all right? You look perplexed,” she said.

“Sorry,” he replied. “I was preoccupied. The sight of you in white stunned me.”

She smiled. “I thought it was a nice touch.”

“It's fine, just fine,” he said before finally getting down to the business at hand. “I'm sorry you couldn't be in the courtroom this morning to watch the pathetic sheriff from Maple Hills make a complete fool of himself,” he said with a laugh. “He admitted under oath that he surprised Bell when he snuck up on him and drew his gun. He also admitted he wasn't wearing his badge and he didn't identify himself. By the time Bell's attorney finished reminding the jury that his client was deathly ill at the time and blinded with a raging fever, he had all twelve men in the palm of his hands. I swear they were glaring at the sheriff when he shuffled away from the stand. I doubt he'll get re-elected.”

The news thrilled her. “Then the attempted murder charge has been thrown out?”

“Not yet, but it will be this afternoon,” he assured her. “The judge is dragging the trial out for as long as he can.”

“If Bell is going to be released, there's no reason for me to carry on with the charade.”

He shook his head. “You're still going to have to go through with it,” he told her. “The judge is itching to hang Bell. He knows he's got his man, and if he can't get him on the charge of attempted murder, he'll keep him locked up until you convince him Bell wasn't in the bank.”

“All right, then.” She sat down at her dressing table and began to brush her hair again. “What are you
going to do about Bell? Now that people are suspicious of him, he's become a liability.”

“I'm going to kill him, of course,” Donald said.

“Have you told the others?”

“Burton, Harris, and Andrews know.”

“What about Robertson?”

“The boys are going to take care of Robertson for me. It was their idea, not mine. Burton says Robertson is getting out of control. Andrews calls him knife happy.”

She put her brush down and turned to him. “Have you heard from Burton yet?”

“Don't start fretting.”

“But he was supposed to wire you after they killed Grace and Jessica. Have you gotten word from him yet?”

“I'm sure they got the job done. They always do,” he added with a grin. “Burton couldn't send a wire.”

“Why not?”