Dorothy Garlock (45 page)

“Nooo . . . don’t move me. Oh, God, my guts are on fire!” Oliver’s mouth worked to keep from screaming. “Help me, Smith, I can’t stand . . . it. Oh, Jesus . . . Sm . . . ith—”

“Base!” Smith shouted. “Start making a travois.”

“No! I’ll not—God, help me!”

“Yes, you will! We’ll get you down.”

“It’s more . . . than twenty m-miles.” Racked with pain, Oliver rolled his head. It was the only part of him he could move. Blood trickled out the corner of his mouth and whimpers came from his throat. “I know what . . . this means. So do you.”

“Don’t give up. Just hold on. I’ll get a blanket.”

“Don’t go,” Oliver begged when Smith stood. “Stay with m-me.” Smith knelt down again. “Look after Maud. She’s not quite right in the h-head—”

“I’ll look after her.”

“I owe her my life.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.”

“Stay with Billy. You’re all he has—”

“I will. You know I will.”

“There’s something else you can do for me.”

“Anything, Oliver. Anything.”

“Put your gun in my hand.”

Smith’s mouth hung open and a blast of fear caused him
to tremble violently when he realized what Oliver was asking him to do.

“I . . . can’t—”

Oliver’s eyes were pleading. “Let me die with some dignity, for God’s sake.”

“I can’t,” Smith repeated, his eyes filling with tears.

Oliver rolled his head. The veins stood out on his neck and he struggled to choke off the screams that filled his throat.

“My guts are spilling out. Don’t let me die screaming—”

“Don’t ask me to do this—”

“Please, boy. I’ve loved you like my own— Dear God, I
. .
. I can’t stand it much l-longer.”

Through tears Smith looked at his dear friend’s tortured features. Oliver was in the worst kind of agony. He had known from the first glimpse that the man who had been like a father to him was mortally wounded.

Could he refuse him this last request and save him hours of excruciating pain?

Slowly Smith pulled the six-gun from the holster, flipped off the safety and tried to place it in Oliver’s hand, but Oliver’s forearm was broken, his wrist limp. His other hand was badly crushed.

“I can’t lift it, son. Help me—”

“I’ve not told you what being with you all these years has meant to me.” Smith’s throat was full of sobs, tears rolled down his cheeks.

“I know without having to be told.” Oliver’s eyes were bright, his breath shallow. “Now you have a chance to repay me. It’ll be quick. I’ll thank you with my last breath.”

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. When it’s over, take me home to Eastwood and bury me on that little rise behind the ranch.”

The gun had slipped from Oliver’s fingers. Smith picked it up. It was slick with Oliver’s blood.

“Do it, son.”

Smith placed the end of the barrel against Oliver’s temple.

“Thank you,” Oliver murmured and closed his eyes.

Smith turned his face away and pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot reverberated in Smith’s head. He dropped the gun and buried his face in his hands.

“Godamighty! What’d ya do?” Base shouted. “Jesus! Ya killed him.”

Smith stood to walk away.

Base grabbed his shoulder. “Ya killed him!” he repeated shrilly.

“Get away from me!” Smith yelled at the top of his lungs. “Get the hell away from me!”

“Murderer!”

The word had scarely left Base’s mouth before Smith’s fist flattened his lips against his teeth. The young cowboy was knocked off his feet. Smith staggered into the grove, wrapped his arms around a tree, and pressed his tear-drenched face against the rough bark. He knew that from that moment on, his life would never be the same.

*  *  *

Halfway through the telling Smith had sat down on the blanket, but he had kept his back to Willa. She crept up close to him and put her arms around him. The tears on her face wet his shirt.

“Oh, darling! What a brave, unselfish thing to do. You poor, poor man, you’ve been grieving all these years—” Willa moved around to kneel in front of him and put her arms around him.

“Life was hell,” he said against her neck. “Until I met you.”

“You were afraid I’d not understand?”

“I was afraid you’d despise me—as Maud does.”

“No! A couple of years ago I saw a man go out of his mind with pain. He chewed his tongue and tried to tear out his eyes. It was so terrible that it’s haunted me. Oliver was brave to want to end it quickly. I’m sure he didn’t realize what it would do to you.”

“Only Billy and Sant knew how badly Oliver was wounded. They dressed him for the burial.” Smith pulled her onto his lap. “Gary Base came down and told his story. The news spread like wildfire. Billy tried to tell folks that Oliver couldn’t have lived. They chose not to believe him.” A deep sigh shook him. “Sometimes I wake up in the night and see Oliver’s broken body and his eyes—pleading with me.”

“Darling, I love you more because you had the courage to do what you did.” Willa’s voice choked on a sob. “Mr. Eastwood couldn’t have lived more than a few hours even if he had been in a doctor’s office. What you did saved him from what he feared. He didn’t want to die a pile of broken flesh and bones, screaming until the last breath left him.”

Smith’s eyes glinted like green fire and the strength of his fingers brought physical pain when he gripped her shoulders.

“You’re . . . not just saying that?”

Willa shook her head vigorously. Great gulps of tears tore up from her throat and shuddered through her. She cried for the lonely man who carried the burden of having had to kill his friend and benefactor. She cried with relief because now the way was cleared for them to share a life together.

“Don’t cry for me, dear love.” Smith cradled her in his arms and tilted her chin so that he could place soft kisses on her tear-stained face. “I love you.” He said the words simply and looked deeply into her eyes.

“I love you too.” Her voice was husky from crying. She clung to him. “No more lonely nights for either of us. From now on, I’ll be with you.”

Smith cupped her face with his palm and moved his mouth
over hers with incredible lightness. He felt as if a boulder had been rolled off his chest and his heart was soaring on a cloud of happiness. There was more love welling up in the eyes of this woman than he had ever hoped to see. He looked into her eyes with a lifetime of love and longing in his.

“I had resigned myself to a damned lousy life. After this glimpse of heaven, I’ll never let you go. I can stand old Maud’s hatred and other folks’ scorn as long as you’re with me.”

“Just try to get rid of me.” Her whispered words came against his lips. She lifted her head and smiled through her tears, and then settled her mouth on his for a long tender moment.

His reaction startled her. He rolled with her in his arms until she was flat on her back and he was leaning over her. She saw the love in his eyes and knew that she was one of the lucky ones—she was truly loved and cherished.

“It would kill me to lose you.” His voice was thick with emotion. “I love everything about you—your spunk, your pride, your beautiful face, your warm, lovely eyes. I’m going to look into them when our bodies are joined and try to tell you how much I love you.”

His lips kissed away her tears. He opened the front of her dress and worshiped her breasts with his fingertips and his lips. It was so much sweeter than before. Willa lay with lids half closed while the stroking of his hands on her skin sent waves of pleasure up and down her spine.

He was gentle and sweet and she welcomed his intrusion into her body with eyes open, looking into the green depths of his. She heard the low murmur of love words between kisses, and then she was beyond hearing, beyond everything, except feeling.

The last rays of the sun crept across their entwined bodies. Smith pulled her skirt down over her legs, propped himself
up on an elbow and looked down at her. Her fingers traced the lines at the corners of his smiling eyes and delved into the corners of his tilted lips before reaching to encircle him with her arms and caress the smooth skin of his back.

“Tomorrow I’ll send Plenty to fetch the preacher, unless you’d rather ride into Buffalo to be married.”

“Will Billy want to be there when we say our vows?”

“I’m sure he would. He’s been telling me what a fool I was for not snatching you up.”

“Then it’s settled. I never thought I’d be married in a patched dress that belongs to a woman of ill repute.”

“You can cut a hole in one of Maud’s expensive draperies and wear it poncho style.”

Tangled in each other’s arms and legs, they rolled on the blanket and laughed.

“I’d like to stay here forever,” she murmured after a kiss that seemed to last forever.

“You will. We’ll build our house on this very spot.”

“When?”

“Next spring. Will you mind sharing it with Billy?”

“Of course not! But what about Mrs. Eastwood?”

“I’m hoping Inez will stay on. She’s the only person I know who can get along with her.”

His lips found the tip of Willa’s nose, then nuzzled her neck. “I like the feel of your breasts against my chest,” he rasped in an agonized masculine need.

“I like it, too,” she whispered.

“You make me happy and . . . hungry for you,” he said and laughed. “If it wasn’t getting late, I’d have you again, but as it is, it’ll be dark by the time we get back to the ranch.” He pulled the top of her dress together and buttoned it.

28

W
illa and Smith lingered so long that it was dark by the time they reached the creek crossing. Smith took the reins of the mare Willa was riding and cautioned her to duck the low branches. In a happy state of mind, she watched Smith, aware each time he turned to look at her. They came out of the dense pine forest and Smith stopped the horses.

“I smell smoke. Could be a forest fire. If it is, Plenty Mad will be happy. He’s been predicting one.”

Worry began to nag at Smith. A forest fire was something everyone dreaded. It was too dark to see smoke, but he sure as hell could smell it.

“Are you up to a little faster pace, honey?”

“I’ll hold on.”

“Yell if we get to going too fast.”

Smith put his horse into a trot and the mare followed. Willa pressed her feet firmly in the stirrups and held onto the saddle horn. Still it was a jarring ride. She concentrated so hard on staying in the saddle that she didn’t see what Smith saw until he shouted.

“My God! The house is on fire!”

When the reality of what he said took root, Willa gasped, “Mrs. Eastwood! Give me the reins and go. I’ll be all right.”

Smith did not hesitate. “Hold on. The mare will bring you to the barn.”

The mare didn’t want Smith’s horse to run off and leave her. Willa held tightly to the reins until she settled into a pace she could handle. With her eyes on the flames coming from the roof of the big house, her heart pounding with fear, it seemed forever before she was close enough to see Inez, Billy and Plenty Mad, buckets in their hands, standing helplessly in the yard.

“Where’s Smith?” Willa shouted the instant her feet were on the ground. She could see flames shooting higher than the tallest tree.

Billy turned and looked at her, an awful strained look on his face. “In there,” he said.

“No! Oh, God, no!”

*  *  *

Maud had been in a temper since Willa had told her she was going to marry Smith. Inez had tried to reason with her but to no avail. She had cried, cussed, and sworn to kill Smith if ever she got her hands on a gun.

“He took Oliver from me long before he killed him,” she shrieked and knocked a glass from Inez’s hand. “He run Fanny off, and he worked it around so he gets Willa away from me. Get out, ya fat old sow. I don’t need ya. I don’t need anybody!”

“I’m going,” Inez said crossly, “But if you have one of your fits, Maud, you’ll have it by yoreself, because, by damn, I don’t have to take yore shit.”

“Get out! Get out!”

Maud didn’t have a convulsion, but she didn’t care if she
did. All her life she had taken leavings. Once again something she wanted was being taken away from her. It wasn’t fair. She had liked the girl and the girl had liked her. They could have lived here together. It would have been like having Fanny home again . . . only better because Fanny was hateful at times and Willa was never mean or out of sorts. Damn Smith! He had turned her against her.