In a Cowboy’s Arms (33 page)

It was more than he had known before setting out from the Crossroads. If Mrs. Jarrett couldn’t or wouldn’t tell him who’d taken Daisy, maybe this doctor would recall treating his sister.

And if he hit a dead end?

Dade didn’t want to think on that. “Thank you for telling us about my sister, ma’am.”

“I wish there was more I could do to help,” she said.

There was, if she’d do it. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone we’d passed through here.”

“Oh. Of course,” Rita said.

But Dade wondered if the woman could keep that promise. Hell, he and Maggie might as well wear bells, for it wouldn’t be hard for Carson to find out where they were headed. They’d be easy pickings.

“It seems logical that this big cowboy must live near Dodge City.” Maggie fidgeted with a handkerchief, folding it up a smidgen then ironing it out with her hand. “He surely wouldn’t assume the care of a child over a long journey, especially one who was ailing.”

Dade wished that were so. “A cowboy views miles a damn sight differently than most folks. I doubt this cowboy gave a second thought to heading out with Daisy, be it twenty miles or two hundred.”

Hell, that was likely the reason he’d sought the advice of a doctor–to see that Daisy was trail worthy. They could’ve ridden in any direction from Dodge City.

The pain of loss sank into him again. Unless he could find somebody who knew where the man was headed, he could wander in circles looking for his sister for years. He could be within miles of her and not know it.

She could be lost to him forever.

Maggie saw worry dim the hope in Dade’s eyes, and her heart went out to him. Since the first day she’d met him he’d projected an aura of confidence that he’d find his sister. He had been so sure that she would recognize Daisy when his own memory failed him.

But for the first time she saw his assurance falter.

She allowed that Rita’s memory of that day in the doctor’s office might not be entirely clear. For one thing, she couldn’t see a doctor standing by and letting a couple of rough cowboys ride off with a terrified little girl who didn’t even know her own name.

Daisy had needed care, not jostling around on a horse. Thanks to her own recent painful experience, she knew how such a journey taxed a person. She didn’t want to think how horrible it would’ve been for Daisy to endure.

“This cowboy must have been a rancher in the area,” Maggie said, drawing Dade’s and Rita’s attention. “Maybe he owned a ranch in the next county.”

“It’s possible,” Dade said, though his flat tone screamed doubt. “Just as likely he drove cattle up from Texas or Indian territory.”

She hated that he was right. But then she’d never thought finding Daisy would be easy.

Knowing what she did now made it harder to remain positive. Dark thoughts of why those men had taken Daisy eroded her peace.

Their only chance of finding the man’s identity was to visit the doctor and hope his memory was clear. Surely he’d remember a little girl in the company of cowboys.

“Do you think her memory ever returned?” Rita asked, her soft inquiry shattering the tense quiet.

Maggie didn’t have to think about that answer. Daisy had lost her memory shortly before Maggie met her, and she had been relearning who she was and where she was in the months they were together in the foundling home. The fall Daisy had taken at the Crossroads erased all she’d learned and then some.

But one thing Maggie was certain of now. Daisy had to have been as devoted to her brother as Dade was to her.

“I doubt it,” Maggie said. “If Daisy’s memory came back to her, she’d have tried to find Dade.”

“She might not have been able to,” he said, and she hated the terrible reasons that sprang to mind.

To her dismay, his expression remained remote. It was like he’d shut down a part of himself and had ceased to feel.

Two hard raps hit the door, and she jumped. “Got your supper.”

“Coming.” Dade moved to the door.

Maggie supposed it wasn’t so much his clipped tone but the hard glint in his eyes that startled her friend.

Dade opened the door a crack with his left hand while his right rested on the butt of his revolver. He visibly relaxed and threw the door open.

“Thank you for your trouble,” he said.

“Not a problem.” The older man strode in bearing a large tray and set it down on a side table that Rita had rushed to clear.

The enticing aroma of a home-cooked meal filled the room. Sadly Maggie’s appetite had deserted her.

“Faron just got back and is looking for you,” the old man said to Rita.

A warm glow spread over Rita’s face, leaving Maggie to believe her friend loved her husband Faron with all her heart. She couldn’t imagine being that devoted to someone.

Rita paused to give Maggie a hug before hurrying from the room. “If I don’t see you before you leave in the morning, have a safe and productive journey. Write a letter if you have the time.”

“I will.”

Maggie watched her friend all but run from the room. The old man shuffled out after her, leaving Maggie and Dade alone.

An uneasy silence crackled in the air, similar to the tension she’d sensed the first day she’d met Dade. She wasn’t sure what to say, for they’d pretty much expressed their concerns earlier.

“Let’s eat,” he said and dropped onto one of the chairs.

“Go on. I’m not that hungry.”

He slid her that dubious look that she was beginning to hate. “Eat anyway. We have a long day ahead of us.”

At least he wasn’t planning to leave her behind. She took the other chair and made a show of picking up her utensils.

The sliced beef, roasted potatoes, and snap beans looked and smelled luscious. But her stomach simply refused to tolerate a heavy meal.

She played at eating while Dade finished off his supper. The only thing more nerve-wracking than what lay in store for them was the distance she felt growing between her and Dade.

“What time will we leave in the morning?” she asked, draping her napkin over her nearly full plate.

“Before dawn. The liveryman will bring the horses around so we can head right out.”

Just as she’d thought. “Who do you plan to question first?”

He snorted and leaned back in his chair, cradling his cup of coffee. “It’s a toss up between calling on Mrs. Jarrett or going straight to Dr. Pike. I know you have an opinion.”

Oddly enough that remark eased some of the tension arcing between them. “I think you’ll learn more from the doctor. He’ll be impartial and just may want to help us.”

He sipped his coffee, his expression thoughtful. Seeing him like this reminded her of just how handsome he was. If he’d only relax more often.

“You’re right,” he said. “But I still aim to call on Mrs. Jarrett.”

“Let me guess why. You want her to tell you why she turned out your sister.”

“Damn right I do.” He rocked forward and rested his arms on the table, but she barely noticed anything besides the heat of anger in his eyes. “She was sick, Maggie. My sister had lost her memory and God knows what else was wrong with her. Yet that woman tossed her out like garbage and her husband let her do it.”

She had nothing to say to that, for the same anger over the injustice of it all burned in her soul as well. She doubted if the Jarretts had considered Daisy’s feelings when they rejected her.

The orphan girl was just a commodity to them. But Maggie knew firsthand the hurt of being passed over by people looking for a child to adopt and the pain of being taken into a family’s home, only to have them change their minds.

But then she’d done something unforgivable, while Daisy had simply needed someone to care for her while she was recuperating from her accident.

He got to his feet and stretched, and she caught herself staring at the play of muscles across his body.

Maggie rose and crossed to the window, surprised it was dusk already. It would be totally dark in an hour.

They’d need to get much needed sleep soon, and with only one bed–

She chaffed her arms, certain Dade would make love with her again tonight. Though she was still tender from their journey today, she longed to lie in his arms and feel the thunder of his heart beneath her ear. She wanted to relive that special excitement that surged through her when their lovemaking reached its zenith.

The muffled thump on the door had her whirling around. Dade was in the process of spreading his bedroll against the wall.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Getting ready for bed.” He tugged one boot off then the other and set them neatly to one side.

Unlike last night, he seemed in no hurry to undress. He didn’t even look at her.

“Surely you don’t intend to sleep on the floor,” she said when he rolled up a blanket and carefully positioned it at one end of the bedroll to serve as a pillow.

“You need your rest and so do I.”

That was certainly true, and she was grateful he didn’t mention that she was too tender from sitting a saddle all day. But just because they weren’t going to indulge in passion didn’t mean they couldn’t share the bed. They were adults, capable of controlling their urges for one night.

Never mind that her body was humming with the promise of his touch, his kiss. She’d actually looked forward to cuddling with him, to feeling his solid weight beside her in the bed. She wanted to know she wasn’t alone.

“This is ridiculous. You’d rest better in the bed,” she said.

He snorted, and that curt sound was a slap of reality she hadn’t expected. “Hardly. Quit dawdling, Maggie. Morning is going to come mighty early.”

She stared at his long feet incased in worn stockings and gave in to a shiver. Last night his long bare legs and feet had tangled with hers. The rasp of his crisp hair against her skin had been an erotic thrill that had heightened her senses.

It was clear she wouldn’t feel anything but cool sheets against her skin tonight.

He flicked a glance her way, then proceeded to remove his shirt. His gun belt followed. The entire process was smoothly done. She knew it was routine, that he’d done it countless times before.

But she’d bet he’d never slept on the floor while the woman he’d bedded the night before snoozed in the bed. This was done by choice, and it hurt. He’d dismissed her from his mind just like that.

She swallowed the bitter taste of reality. He was rejecting her. He was saying that if he couldn’t have sex with her, he didn’t want to sleep with her either.

Maggie slipped behind the dressing screen and went through the motions of changing into her nightdress. Fool that she was, she’d chosen a frilly one that buttoned from her neck to well below her waist because she’d been thinking of seduction again–not sleep.

She crawled into the bed and tugged the covers to her chin. “Good night.”

“Night.”

She saw him douse the light, and the room faded into a velvet darkness. But she didn’t need light to know Dade Logan was in the room.

She was attuned to his every movement, the breath he took, the shift of his body on the pallet. She’d done what she had sworn she wouldn’t do. She’d lost her heart to him.

He didn’t even know she was alive. Wanting him. Hurting for his touch.

Pride wouldn’t let her reveal it. She’d gone to him once and initiated their lovemaking. The next time–if there was a next time–it would have to come from him.

For the last ten miles guilt plied the whip to Dade’s conscience over his decision to ride into Dodge City today. Maggie was ready to drop from the saddle, and there was no place that he deemed safe enough to bunk down.

Their only option was to keep moving.

Because of her tender condition from riding too much on the mare and on him the night before last, he held them to a snail’s pace. It was mighty clear that even that was a form of torture for her.

So they arrived at dusk. The Iago Theater was easy enough to find though, thanks to the fact that a play was going on at the time.

He rode past the two-story brick building and the two that butted next to it. Both were shops that were closed for the night.

“Miss Jennean said we should go to the back door and ask for Gwyneth,” Maggie said.

Just where he was heading. “I remember.”

“Do you still have the token?”

“In my breast pocket.” He patted his chest where the small disk rested, but with the diminished light of dusk he doubted she noticed.

He reined up their horses at the mouth of a narrow alley that reeked of piss and rotting vegetables. He could guess what caused the first. The last had an obvious source thanks to a restaurant that backed up to the theater.

“Not a very inviting place,” Maggie said.

Downright dangerous in his estimation. “I don’t much care to leave the horses tied up out here in the alley while I get you settled inside.”

In fact, he wasn’t partial to leaving her alone while he saw to their horses. But his only other choice was for them to head to the livery and then hire a buggy to return with their provisions and bags.

She surely wouldn’t be able to walk that far. Even if she could, they’d attract attention.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Maggie said. “After all, the owner is a friend of Miss Jennean’s.”

He didn’t miss the weary tone in her voice. Like it or not, he’d have to see her settled, then stable the horses.

“Let’s see if we can raise someone then,” he said.

Dade guided the horses down the alley with care, disliking the pile of crates where anyone could hide. A couple of cats darted from one stack and raced down the alley.

His gelding shied, but thankfully Maggie’s mare paid the cats no mind. He scanned the shadows again before dismounting.

Steps led up to the rear door of the theater. He rapped on the solid door and hoped it wouldn’t take long for someone to answer.

“Maybe they can’t hear you with the show going on,” Maggie said.

No doubt she was right. He heard piano music, then the clapping of hands that seemed to go on and on.

Dade waited until the applause died then pounded on the door again. If they didn’t raise somebody this time, he was moving on.