Love and Fury: The Coltrane Saga, Book 4 (14 page)

He was just finishing his third bowl when Luly returned with Doc Maltby, so he pushed away from the table and went back to Colt. He was still unconscious.

Doc Maltby’s hands were shaky, and his eyes were puffy and bloodshot. He had a hell of a hangover, and Branch was glad the bullet was already out of Colt. Damned if he’d trust that old drunk to cut Colt.

Doc Maltby removed the bandage Candy had just put on. He made no comment when he saw the burned flesh, assuming it had been an emergency cutting to stop the bleeding. It had not succeeded fully, but the flow had been lessened. “Clean wound?” he asked. “The bullet is out?”

Branch stepped forward. “Had to cut it out, but it’s out now.”

Doc nodded. “It’s a bad wound, but he should be all right. Keep him quiet. Keep him warm. Lots of broth. No solid food till he asks for it. I’ll leave some quinine. That will bring down the fever.

“No booze,” he ordered, getting to his feet and opening his leather bag to search for the quinine. “He’s drunk now.”

“You should be right on
that
diagnosis, Doc,” Candy said.

He scowled at her, then went back to rummaging in his bag until he found what he was looking for. He handed her the vial of medicine, then picked up his bag and left.

Becky saw him out of the house, then rushed back, her face flushed, eyes glimmering with tears. “Would it be all right if I took care of him?” she asked her aunt. “Please? He knows me, and—”

“You have plenty around here to keep you busy,” Candy interrupted, regarding her suspiciously. “Luly can care for him fine.”

Becky shook her head, face set with determination. “You have to let me, Aunt Candy. Colt knows me. We’re friends. He’ll feel better having me look after him, I know he will. Please.”

Branch glanced away uncomfortably. Now he knew who Becky was.

He’d recognized her when he’d first seen her. He also understood now why he hadn’t known who Colt was talking about earlier. Like the rest of Candy’s girls, Becky didn’t use her real name. She was known as Bella, and the last time he’d been there, men were standing in line for her. She was one of the most popular girls at Candy’s place. Young. Fresh. Pretty. Angelic. The men really went after her. He hadn’t; and was he ever glad now that he hadn’t. There were two or three who were his regular choices, had been for years, and he seldom tried anyone new. Oh, hot damn, he thought with a shake of his head, was he ever glad he hadn’t had the urge to visit Bella.

He looked down at Colt and shook his head with pity. He was sure as hell not going to be happy when he learned the truth about the woman he thought was an angel. And Branch did not want to be around when that happened. Suddenly Branch couldn’t wait to get back to Silver Butte and stay there.

Candy was studying her niece’s imploring face, and Branch broke into her contemplation by saying, “I’m heading back, Candy. If I don’t get back this way to check on him—and I probably won’t, with all I’ll have to do back home—just send him on when he’s able.

“You know you’ll be paid well for doing this,” Branch added as he strode to the door. “Just take good care of him.”

Candy absently called out that he was not to worry, then turned her full attention to her niece again. She placed a gentle hand on Becky’s arm and murmured, “We should talk about this somewhere else, in case he wakes up.”

Obediently Becky followed Candy upstairs to her private office. Once inside, with the door closed, Candy went to sit behind her Louis IV desk. From a crystal decanter she poured them each a small glass of cognac, then settled back in her blue velvet chair.

“Now then,” she began, after sipping the cognac, “let’s be candid with each other, honey. You’re in love with Coltrane, and you’re only going to torture yourself by hanging around him. You’re much better off—and so is he—if you just stay out of sight. Let Luly look after him. This is no good for you.”

Becky shook her head. “No. I want to take care of him.”

“And when he finds out? What then?” Candy raised an eyebrow. “I remember the last time. I was the one who heard you crying when Colt spent the night with another woman. I was the one who held you and let you cry when he rode out of your life. It can’t work, honey, you know that by now. Let it be. You have a future here, and as the rest of the girls will tell you, you’re a fool to fall in love—ever. Men are for one thing only, and that’s for paying. They’re not for anything else. Remember that. That way, you won’t wind up with a broken heart.”

Becky was used to her aunt’s beliefs. She wasn’t shocked. She even agreed with some of her philosophies, but not where Colt was concerned. She recalled with total clarity those magical days when she and Colt grew to know each other, to become so close. It was wonderful, and yes, she had sobbed like a baby when he took one of her aunt’s girls to bed, but she consoled herself by deciding that he had been driven by the desire she had kindled. She had been a virgin, and he hadn’t wanted to take her innocence. She loved him for that kindness, that tenderness.

“Becky.”

She glanced up and saw the hard expression in her aunt’s eyes.
 

“When you knew Coltrane before, you were not a prostitute. You were a dewy-eyed little girl from back East, sent out here because your mother died and your father couldn’t raise you alone. Your father had no idea I was a madam that I run a brothel, for God’s sake. Like everybody else back there, he believes I’m a schoolteacher at a mission for Indians. I was wrong to take you in and I see that now, because, heaven knows, I never intended to take you into the business. That was an accident.”

Becky lifted a hand in protest, fresh tears stinging her eyes. She didn’t want to be reminded, but Aunt Candy was all fired up now.

Teeth clenched, Candy growled venomously, “I could kill Jake Wingate. If he walked through that door, I’d take my gun out of the drawer and shoot him right in that damn dick he’s so proud of. If I’d been here that night, it
never
would’ve happened. I don’t let drunks in. You know that. But I
wasn’t here,
and he
did
come in, and he forced his way into your room and raped you and there was nobody to stop him.”

“Aunt Candy, please!” Becky screamed, covering her face with her hands. “I can’t stand it. Stop, please! We can’t undo it and I can’t stand thinking about it.”

“I should have found a way to stop you from getting in the business,” Candy sighed. “I should’ve sent you away. But you said you knew what you wanted, and I figured I’d best let you deal with it your own way. Until now, I thought maybe it was the right way, because you’re a natural.” She paused to gulp down the rest of her cognac, eyeing Becky critically. “That angelic face, big bosom, tiny waist, curvy hips—men drool over you. Why, you make more money than any of—”

“Stop it!” Becky leaped to her feet and leaned across the desk, pressing trembling fingers against the smooth surface. She knew very well what her aunt was up to. “I won’t listen to any more of this. I know why you’re reminding me of what I am, but I want a chance to be with Colt one last time. He doesn’t have to know the truth.”

Her voice broke. “I love him, Aunt Candy. I know I can never have him, but I love him. I never knew how much till I saw him lying there hurt. Just let me get him back on his feet, and I’ll never speak of him again.”

Candy had known the true depth of the girl’s pain, had tried to put a stop to this nonsense, but her own eyes filled with tears and she ran around the desk and gathered her niece in her arms, cradling Becky as she sobbed. “Honey, honey, I’m not going to say no,” she soothed. “I just wanted to remind you who you are now, so you don’t get impossible dreams. I don’t want to see you get hurt any more than you already have been. It’d be different if he was a customer, somebody you pleasured and then fell in love with. That might work out for you. But you aren’t what he thinks you are, and if he finds out, what happened between you before you came into the life won’t mean a damn thing. You know that. Don’t you think you’d better just leave it? Keep the good memories. Don’t see him while he’s here.”

But Becky wouldn’t budge. “If you refuse,” she warned, “I’ll do it anyway. So you might as well make arrangements for my regular customers. I’m going to take care of Colt until he can take care of himself.”

Candy sighed. “All right. I’ll tell the other girls to stay away from both of you and keep their mouths shut. And I’ll tell your regulars that you’re out of town. Just hurry and get him out of here. I don’t, like this situation at all.”

Becky left the room and hurried to the back room downstairs where Colt was. She did not like the situation, either. She had decided on the life she had. It helped ease the pain of the rape. And she made lots of money. One day, perhaps, she would do as some of the other girls did: marry and have a home, and children. She was not what they called a “hard-lifer”. She hated the life, and she hated the men who paid to fondle and slobber over her body. Her becoming a prostitute had been the tragic result of Jake Wingate’s defiling her. She felt that, by taking money for her body, by making it clear that she held all men in contempt, she was making men pay for Jake’s cruelty. She took out her hatred of Jake on all men.

All men, that is, except Colt. Gentle, tender, kind, he was the only man she’d ever loved. She had thought she might never see him again.

Now he was back. Wounded. She was going to take care of him, and she was going to savor every moment of it.

Then, when he was gone from her again, she would go back to work. She bit her lip to hold back fresh tears. All she could hope for was to thicken the wall she had built around her feelings.

Entering the back room, she found Luly watching over Colt, who was sleeping. She settled herself in a chair next to the sofa and told Luly she could go. Doc Maltby had put a fresh bandage on Colt’s wound, and there were blankets tucked around him.

Becky began to apply cold cloths, provided by Luly, to Colt’s head in an attempt to lessen his fever. Now and then he stirred slightly, moaned, and she hoped he was waking up, but he always fell asleep again.

Morning faded to afternoon, and then evening shadows began to fall. Luly came in to light the lanterns, filling the room with a mellow, golden light.

Becky held Colt’s hand and squeezed. Her heart felt warm, full, happy. Fate would part them once again, so she knew she had to make the most of every precious moment.

She dozed. A little later she was awakened by the sound of his mutterings. She leaned closer, wincing as he spoke a name: “Charlene.” Who was that? Had he found another love?

He stirred. His lashes fluttered and then his dark eyes attempted to focus on her.

His voice was barely audible as he teased, “I see an angel.”

She laughed softly. “No, it’s only me—Becky.”

He closed his eyes and nodded sleepily. “Yes, I do see an angel.” Then he slept again, and her tears fell on his face.

Chapter Nine

Briana fell in love with the Coltrane mansion. Though not as opulent as the deBonnett château, it was much more spacious and there was an air about the place that was definitely alluring. She could close her eyes and feel the love, the happiness. It was, she decided, as though the house was smiling.

It was sad that Dani hadn’t spent her childhood there, Briana decided. Of course, Briana didn’t know the Coltranes, but she felt that they must be good-hearted people, or else their house wouldn’t feel so loving.

Certainly the cold and arrogant
Madame
Alaina wouldn’t fit in here, she thought. It was remarkable that, after growing up in such a dismal atmosphere as
Madame
Alaina’s household, Dani had the spirit necessary to dedicate her life to the church.

Briana sat on the back steps, staring out at the stable and the rolling plains beyond, plains framed by distant mountains. It was a warm day, and the butter-gold sun felt good as it melted across her bare arms. She was wearing one of Dani’s dresses, a pale-green cotton that revealed far too much of her bosom. She gave it a tug upward, but the deep décolletage still revealed too much of her large breasts. She had that problem with all Dani’s clothes, and when she’d tried to alter them, Gavin had angrily ordered her not to, saying he wanted her bosom displayed. She had argued, and he had reminded her that he controlled her brother’s fate. Their arguments always ended like that.

She breathed deeply of the sweet air. Yes, it was beautiful here, peaceful and serene. But she would be glad when the deed was done and she could go home to France—and be free of Gavin Mason.

How she loathed that man! The voyage to America had been terrible. He had insisted that they spend every moment together so that he could tutor her. Over and over, he forced her to talk, teaching her to enunciate with only a trace of a French accent. He told her every kernel of information Alaina had passed to him about Dani and the Coltrane family.

“But the best thing for you to do,” Gavin said repeatedly, “is just keep your mouth shut. The less you speak, the less chance for making a mistake, and the less chance for anyone to become suspicious. When I am around, I will do the talking.”

She had frequently begged him to tell her his whole plan, and that always made him angry. “You have no need to know,” he shouted. “I’ll tell you what to do and when to do it. Meanwhile, just be charming to your brother. That’s all you have to worry about.”

Thus far, Briana hadn’t even had to do that. She had yet to meet John Travis Coltrane, though nearly three weeks had passed since their arrival in Silver Butte.