Denver (29 page)

A white nightgown dropped down, almost hiding her ankles from view. She scooped up the clothing, and he watched her moving around and heard the rustle of covers.

He pushed back his chair and stood up, walking to the center of the cabin, making no effort to hide the noise of his boots on the plank floor. “Mary, do you have enough covers? Do you want my coat?”

“I’m fine. His Michael stirred?”

“No. Go to sleep. I’ll call you if he does.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.” He could picture her in bed, and in his mind, her head was still wound with braids. There was something so innocent and prim about her, yet—

His thoughts veered off the subject, and he felt guilty as he thought about Silas, remembering him sitting before a campfire and talking about Mary. Dan clamped his jaw shut and sat back down, but he turned to look again at the blanket, imagining Mary stretched on the bed. He sighed and shifted, propping his hands on his knees, staring at Michael O’Malley. The man was slashed badly, but the injuries didn’t hide the solid muscles, and Dan expected Michael to survive. The O’Malleys were tough, and this one looked like the toughest, strongest O’Malley of all. He ran with bad company, though, and Dan suspected Brian did as well. For the first time, he wondered if Brian’s disappearances from Denver might have something to do with Michael. He could be riding out to the mining camp.

Mary deserved better than she was getting from her father and brothers and Silas. Dan mentally swore. It was none of his concern what the men in Mary O’Malley’s life did. Yet he cared, and he acknowledged that he cared too much. He twisted again to stare at the blanket. Restless, he stood up and moved to put more logs on the fire, building up a blaze.

He poured a drink of brandy and sat back down in
the chair. Time crept past, and Michael stirred and groaned.

“Water,” he whispered.

“I’ll get it, Michael,” Dan said, standing up and moving toward the blanket. He hated to wake her, and it seemed unnecessary, but he had promised. He heard the rustle of clothing or blankets before he called her name.

“Mary,” he said softly.

She pushed aside the blanket. Her eyes were round, her gaze going to Michael. “What’s wrong?”

“He wants water,” Dan said, his mouth becoming dry, barely able to get out the words. She stood in the flickering firelight in the white cotton gown that was buttoned to her throat. Her hair was down. It fell in a shimmering red cascade, wavy from the plaiting. The ends curled just above her waist, and it changed her appearance completely. He felt riveted to the floor, unable to move or breathe or stop staring. She was beautiful.

“Dart?”

“Yes?”

“Is something wrong?” Suddenly her face suffused with pink. “I didn’t bring my wrapper, I packed in such haste, but I figure you’ve seen lots of ladies’ nighties.”

He couldn’t stop the compelling urge to touch her hair, reaching out to stroke a silky lock.

She drew a deep breath. “Is Michael all right?”

“He asked for water. I’ll get it.”

She hurried past him to Michael. “He’s asleep again, Dan.”

“I’ll get a cup of water and set it beside the bed.”

“Mary,” Michael murmured hoarsely.

“I’m here, Michael.”

Dan handed her the cup of water and helped raised Michael so she could hold the cup to his lips. He drank slowly. Each swallow was an effort, and drops spilled over his jaw, which was covered in dark stubble where it wasn’t bandaged. And all the while her brother drank, Dan was aware of Mary, her slender hands
holding the cup, the locks of flaming hair falling over her shoulders, and the top button at the throat of her white gown that was unfastened.

“I’ll get more,” Dan said when Michael drained the cup.

“No. I’m sleepy.” Michael closed his eyes and in seconds his breathing was even again. Dan felt his forehead.

“How is he?”

“Hot. Not too bad, though.”

“I can stay with him.”

“Go back to bed.” Dan stood at the foot of Michael’s bed. He picked up the cup and refilled it, and turned around. Mary stood beside the bed, watching her brother. She glanced at Dan and moved away, crossing the room to the fire.

“Now I’m cold. I want to get warm and then I’ll go to bed.” Her cheeks were flushed and she stared at the fire. “If you’re tired—”

“I’m fine,” he said without thinking about his answer. He ached to reach out and touch her hair. She held her hands toward the fire and glanced around at him.

Mary drew a sharp breath as she met his gaze. Men never looked at her the way Dan looked at her now, and it warmed her more than the fire.

“You’re beautiful, Mary,” he whispered, and her thoughts spun away. She stared at him, unable to move or breathe.

He reached out to touch her hair, the faintest touch, yet she seemed to feel it in the depths of her person. His gaze was riveted on hers, and a longing she had never known came over her. She wanted to reach for him. She wanted him to reach for her.

“Mary,” he whispered, tilting her chin up. She watched him, drawn by a pull that was as strong as chains. He stepped to her and she felt as if all the air in the room had suddenly been withdrawn. His arm slipped around her waist, and he leaned down. His lips were warm and soft as he brushed hers. His mouth
settled on hers, parting her lips, and her heart pounded with his kiss.

Dan tasted her mouth, finding in her kiss a sweetness and fire he wouldn’t have dreamed possible. His arm tightened around her, and he felt her high soft breasts press against him. Her body was slender, her waist smaller than he had thought.

As his arm tightened, Mary’s hands rested against his chest. For just seconds she was lost in a storm created by Dan, pressing against him, clinging to his broad shoulders. Then she remembered.

“No!” She twisted away and moved back, horrified at how she had yielded to him so easily and forgotten Silas so quickly. “Silas!”

“Dammit, I know that,” Dan said, grinding out the words, his hands clenched into fists.

She turned and hurried out of sight behind the blanket. Dan wanted to stride across the cabin and throw back the blankets that hung on the rope. He wanted to haul her into his arms and kiss her for hours. He stared at the fire, his body burning. He swore, mentally berating himself, arguing in his mind that it was the isolation in the cabin, the frustration stirred by Louisa’s teasing, the shock of finding that Mary could be beautiful.

“It isn’t love,” he whispered aloud. “It can’t be.” He turned around to stare at the blankets. “Dammit, it isn’t!” His gaze shifted to Michael’s still form, and he swore softly again. The O’Malleys had turned his life upside down. They all caused him trouble, each and every one of them! His nerves were raw, his body aroused, and he wanted to pull on a coat and go striding out into the night, to move and work off the frustrations building in him, but he had promised to sit at Michael’s bedside so Mary could sleep.
Mary asleep
.

He picked up the brandy bottle and took a long drink, wiping his mouth and staring at Michael. “Damn you, Silas,” he said again, wishing he hadn’t crossed paths with the O’Malleys. He knew he wasn’t being fair, but he ached, and it was torment. And he was in love with Louisa Shumacher, about to have their
engagement announced.
I cannot love Mary O’Malley. I don’t and I won’t. I love Louisa, who is beautiful and exciting and doesn’t belong to my friend
. Yet while he argued with himself, he thought of all the fun he had with Mary, of the fact that he could trust her with anything, ask her advice and expect a reasonable, intelligent answer.

Taking the brandy with him, he sat beside the bed and stared at Michael, willing him to get well fast so they could get the hell away from the mining camp. “Get well, dammit,” he whispered.

Mary lay shivering in the bed. Covers were piled on her, yet she couldn’t get warm. She tried to avoid thinking about what had just happened, yet her ears seemed to expand, listening to Dan move around the cabin. She heard scrapes and rustles and silence. “I’m going to marry Silas,” she told herself in her mind over and over, wishing she could sleep, or get warm, or
forget
. Silas. She tried to think of times with him, but now years separated her from those hours, and the memories had blurred. She tried to remember Silas’ kisses, tried to blot out what she felt, but she couldn’t erase the memories of Dan’s kisses.

She turned, huddled beneath a mound of covers, shivering. She felt a longing that she didn’t want to experience, remembering kisses that shouldn’t have happened.

“Get well, dammit,” Dan whispered, and Mary raised her head. She heard him and frowned, biting her lip. He was as unhappy over what had happened as she. She thought of Michael and closed her eyes in prayer.

Dan dozed and stirred, staring at Michael, who groaned and shifted. His face was more flushed, and Dan frowned. He leaned forward and felt Michael’s brow.

“Damn,” he muttered, feeling the hot, dry flesh. The man was burning up with fever. Dan went outside to pump a bucket of cold water in the cool gray stillness of dawn.

“Mary,” he called when he returned. She pushed
aside the blankets, her eyes round with fear. Once again the sight of her momentarily immobilized Dan, because her hair still tumbled around her shoulders and her feet and ankles were bare. Her calico dress was open at the throat to reveal pale, smooth skin.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Michael’s burning with fever. We need to get him cool.”

She rushed to the bedside, and Dan worked with her, wringing out cold wet cloths and trying to get Michael cooler. “I hope my telegram got to Luke, and Ta-ne-haddle is coming.”

“San Antonio is so far away, Dan,” she said, bathing Michael’s forehead. “I don’t see how your friend can find this camp anyway.”

“Brian may know the way. Even if he doesn’t, Ta-ne-haddle can track almost anything that has feet.”

“I hope he comes, because I don’t think we can get Dr. Felton back, and Michael is worse.”

Dan helped her, wringing out rags, trying to bathe Michael’s forehead to get his temperature down. Michael twisted and turned and talked, moaning softly. Dan silently prayed Ta-ne-haddle was on his way.

Hattie sat alone in the kitchen with Luke. She leaned forward, knowing he wouldn’t take the news well. “I want to go home with April.”

To her surprise, he smiled. “Fine. You know we love having you here, but I can understand why you’d like to visit April too. And I know she wants to see you.”

“Luke, I still get letters from Javier.”

“I know that.”

“I used to leave them unopened, but lately I’ve been reading them. He said he’s written to you and Dan, and that in his will he’s leaving the ranch to April. He said that it’s all right with both of you.”

“I don’t need it, and neither does Dan. I think it’s a good idea to leave it to April.”

“Noah is a successful man too, and April will always be well-taken-care-of, so it seems to me the ranch should be equally divided among all survivors.”

“No. I want April to have it, and I imagine Dan does too. Judging from the last letter I had from Dan, he seems to be doing well. I think he’s happy with Denver and is ready to settle there.”

At the sound of a knock, Luke turned toward the door. In seconds a maid appeared. “Señor Danby, a man to see you. He has a message.”

Luke moved to the door to take the telegram and tip the man. He closed the door and ripped open the envelope to read the message.

He stepped to the door. “A brother of one of Dan’s
friends has been clawed by a bear. He wants Ta-ne-haddle to come. I’m going to ride out to the ranch and get him.”

“Where is he going? To Colorado Territory?”

“Yes. The mining camp is outside Denver,” Luke said. Within a quarter of an hour he rode away from the house. Late that night, when the house was quiet, he returned. He moved through it on tiptoe, undressing and sliding into bed.

“I missed you,” Catalina said in a throaty voice, winding her arms around him. He lifted her on top of him, relishing her softness and warmth, her full breasts pressed against his chest.

“I thought you were asleep.”

She kissed his shoulder. “No. I was waiting for you. Has Ta-ne-haddle gone?”

“Yes. I started to go with him, but he said it wasn’t necessary. Since it isn’t Dan who’s hurt, I decided to stay home.” He kissed her shoulder, turning her head to kiss her deeply, crushing her to him, and rolling over so he was above her.

“Catalina, how I love you,” he whispered. He pushed away the covers and shifted so he could trail kisses across her smooth flesh while he stroked her. He didn’t think he could ever tire of loving her. Instead, he wanted her more and loved her more with the passing of time. His troubles faded from his mind as he lost himself in her soft flesh, feeling her legs wrap around him, his heart pounding with desire.

Later he held her close against his heated body, stroking her, murmuring endearments to her. After moments of silence, he said, “Mother is going home with April.”

“I know. She told me. Luke, if she can find happiness with Javier, don’t stand in the way.”

“That’s her decision.”

Catalina sat up to gaze down at him, trailing her fingers along his jaw, feeling the rough stubble. “If she goes back to him, I want you to welcome them here if they want to come visit.”

“Dammit, Catalina, how can you welcome a man like Javier?”

“If Hattie goes back to him, I don’t want our children shut off from their grandmother. She’s a wonderful, intelligent woman and they love her. She’s been good for them.”

His scowl faded and he pulled her down into his arms. “You’re right, as usual. I wouldn’t want to separate her from them. So I’ll tell her Javier is welcome.”

“Good. I can sleep now.”

“I’ll bet you and April have discussed this.”

“We might have,” she said sleepily, curled against him.

He chuckled softly. “I’m glad I don’t have to face you in the courtroom.”

Her words were slow and languorous and she stroked his broad chest. “I have powers of persuasion your opponents don’t have.”

“Absolutely, hon.” He smiled and kissed her temple. “I’m the luckiest man on earth, so I guess I should be charitable to Javier.”