Love and Glory: The Coltrane Saga, Book 3 (54 page)

“Captain Coltrane, please let me in! Please! I’m freezing!”

He shoved the blanket back and leaped to his feet. What in blazes was a woman doing out here in the middle of a damn blizzard? Rushing to the door, he fumbled with the latch and the door flew open. She fell into his arms, covered with snow and shivering with deep, jerking spasms.

He struggled to carry her to the fire, and when the firelight caught the spun red-gold of her hair, he gasped, “Kitty! My God, girl, what are you doing out here?”

Her frosty eyelids fluttered open. The lilac eyes stared up at him in fright. She tried to pull away from him, arms flailing. A fingernail caught his cheek and she screamed in agony, a sound such as he had never heard.

“Hey, hey, hold on!” he yelled, struggling to catch her wrists, holding them tightly by her sides. “It’s me. Coltrane. What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him with such desolation that his heart swelled. “Are you hurt? What’s happened to you? And what in hell are you doing out here in this storm?”

She turned her face to his bare chest, and he saw that he was wearing only his underwear.

“Uh…” he stammered, swallowed hard, telling himself not to call her Kitty. “Dr. Musgrave,” he made his voice crisp, “if something’s wrong, I wish you’d tell me. How about if I get you a drink? I think you could use some whiskey.”

“Yes,” her voice was muffled. “Yes, yes.” She pulled away, turning her back to him as she sank slowly to the floor.

Travis hurried to find the bottle and took it back to her. “Sorry I don’t have a glass,” he muttered, quickly moving to find his pants and slip them on.

After throwing another log on the fire, he sat down next to her on the floor. Hesitantly, he gestured to her wet clothing. A long blue woolen cape covered her white dress. Both were sodden. “I think you’d better take those off and let me dry them in front of the fire.
You can wrap up in a blanket. It’s not good to sit around wet.”

Wordlessly, she got up and went behind him. He could hear the rustling sounds as she undressed. He did not turn around. He did not have to. He knew every inch of that luscious body, what it looked like and how it felt.

She returned, handing him the wet garments with one hand while she held the blanket wrapped about her with the other arm.

“Are you hungry?” he asked above the roaring in his head. Damn, what was she doing out here? “I haven’t thought much about food. I’ve been pretty busy trying to fix things up.”

“I ate at the Sacks’ earlier,” she said in a small voice. “I delivered Wilamina’s baby tonight.”

He exploded. “You mean Gilbert let you ride out on a night like this? He’s crazy.”

“I insisted,” she told him quietly. “He wanted me to stay over, but I thought I could make it. Then the snow got worse, and I was afraid of getting lost. I remembered passing here on my way out there yesterday.”

“You knew I lived here?”

“No.”

She spoke sharply,
too
sharply, he thought. It was as though she did not want to acknowledge his existence.

He felt the sudden need to prod. “You called my name. Captain Coltrane. You knew I lived here.”

“Yes. No. I—” She shook her head, sunshine-red hair flying about her face. “I may have heard Mr. Sacks say something about you living around here. I don’t remember.”

He took the bottle from her, saw how her fingers were trembling. Where was her spirit? The usual arrogance? Why did she seem terrified of him?

Trying to set her at ease, he gave her a lopsided grin and cracked, “Look, Doc. I’m sorry I gave you a rough time when my partner was injured. I guess I’m not used to lady doctors. I wasn’t myself that night, anyway. Hell, I thought Sam was a goner.”

She took a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s all right, really.” She turned toward the window. “I wonder if it’s let up. I could be on my way soon.”

“Are you out of your mind?” he roared. “It’s about a three-hour ride to town in good weather. You’d never make it. You’re staying here.”

She looked back at him, and the old familiar sensation of wanting to drown in those limpid violet eyes swept through him with a terrifying force. “I don’t think it’s quite proper, Captain Coltrane.”

“Propriety!” he laughed. “It’s a matter of survival. You’re safe with me.”

She bowed her head. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, “I had no right to insinuate that you would behave as anything except a gentleman.”

“I’m no gentleman,” he told her candidly, recalling saying those same words to her a long, long time ago. Quickly, he added, “But I always respect a lady.”

She began to speak nervously, casting about, he knew, for conversation of any kind. “I’m sorry I woke you. You were sleeping, weren’t you? I knocked on the door several times and called to you over and over before you came. The wind is so terrible. Nevada can be so brutal in the winter. I should have stayed with the Sackses, I know, but I wanted to get back to town, to the hospital. Nights are our worst times there. You wouldn’t believe what goes on. Shootings. Cuttings. Men are brought in looking like they’ve been in a war. Virginia City must be filled with the worst kind of people. They come looking for silver, gold…adventure. I know there are good people there, too, but the rowdies far outnumber the decent folk. It’s not quite as bad as it used to be, though. I think the adventurers are moving on.”

She paused to catch her breath and he reached over to place his fingertips against her lips. “Doc, I think we should both go to sleep now. You take the cot. It isn’t much, but it’s all I’ve got.”

“I can’t let you sleep on the floor,” she protested. “It’s your house.”

“I’ve slept here on the floor so many times I’ve lost count,” he laughed, getting to his feet and reaching to pull her up. He prayed that she did not sense the way he was reacting to touching her.

He stepped back, releasing her. “I’m planning on riding into town tomorrow myself. I’ll go with you—if the snow isn’t too deep, that is. And I meant to ask, where did you leave your horse?”

“I found your stable and shoved him in there with your stock.”

“That’s fine. Get some sleep now.”

He found another blanket, wrapped up in it, and lay down in front of the fire. He could hear her settling down on the cot. Soon silence, except for the howling wind, settled over the cabin.

He stared into the fire. Something was not right with her. Something was troubling her deeply.

Behind him, six feet away, he could hear her tossing and turning. He sipped from the whiskey bottle, hoping the liquor would work its magic and take him away to that land of oblivion. God, how he wanted her. With every beat of his heart, with every breath, he wanted her desperately.

He dreamed the old dream again.

She was naked in his arms, snuggling closer. Her fingers danced through the curling hairs on his chest, trailing downward. His teeth bit gently into one taut nipple and he sucked hungrily as she cupped his manhood with both of her soft hands.

God in heaven, he loved her even more than he realized, more, if possible, than when they had been together.

But the dream had to end, and it did.

He opened his eyes, stiffening at the sight beside him.

Kitty lay in his arms on the floor before the fire, gazing up at him, tears sparkling in the firelight.

“Please.” She touched his cheek gently, her body trembling. “Please don’t say anything. Just hold me.”
 

He held her. And finally, they slept.

He awoke suddenly, alone, and the memory washed over him. He looked around. The cabin was empty. Her clothes were gone. He ran to the door and jerked it open, stepping ankle-deep into snow before realizing he was barefoot and naked. Rushing back inside, he jerked on his pants and boots and then hurried out again. He could see her footsteps in the snow, leading to the stable. And as he ran, he could see more prints, hers and a horse’s, leading toward the road.

He went back to the cabin and finished dressing. Then he took precious time to leave feed for the stock, enough to last them a couple of days. If they ate it all at once and then starved, he couldn’t help it. He could not take the time to ride over to Sacks and ask him to look after them.

He had to find Kitty!

He was grateful that the snow was only about three inches deep. The sky was still overcast, and probably more snow would be dumped before the day was over. Riding as fast as he dared push his horse, he reached town in just over two hours. The horse was lathered and exhausted. Pausing long enough at the livery stable to tell the boy to walk him down and rub him carefully, Travis headed straight for the hospital, running all the way.

As luck would have it, the first person he saw when he pushed through the doors was Dr. Watkins.

“Why, Captain Coltrane. What brings you out so early?” His eyes narrowed. “Is it Marilee? I’ll get my bag. It isn’t quite time, but I’ve been afraid something might happen.”

“No, no, it isn’t Marilee,” Travis cried, then stopped as the doctor’s words sank in. “You’ve been afraid something might happen. Is something the matter with her? The baby?”

“She’s weak,” the doctor said bluntly. “I don’t know what’s wrong.” He and Travis walked down the hall toward the hospital dining room. “Come have some coffee. Stella just got back from the Sacks place, where she delivered a strong baby boy. Though how she got back here in the snow I don’t know.”

“I’m glad you came by, Captain,” Dr. Watkins was saying, as they neared the dining room. “I have been wanting to talk to you about Marilee’s condition. I think you should plan to stay in town till the baby comes. She seems so wistful and sad. I’ve tried to get her to talk to me about what’s bothering her, but she won’t. She seems to be wasting away. The baby is growing, but she’s losing weight. I might even put her in the hospital to see if we can force her to eat.”

As they entered the dining room, Travis saw Kitty sitting at the table, eyes wide, face pale.

“I need to talk to you,” Travis whispered to Kitty as he and the doctor walked by.

Dr. Watkins looked from one to the other and asked sternly, “What is going on?” Quickly pushing Travis back into the hallway, he whispered angrily, face reddening, “You haven’t tried to tell her who she is, have you? You’ll only make things worse for Stella and your wife.”

“No, it isn’t that.” Travis shoved the man away. Kitty had run through the doorway and down the hallway.

“Wait, please!” Travis yelled to her. “All I want to do is talk to you!”

She turned to look at him over her shoulder, her face pale. She did not see the little boy running toward her from the other end of the hallway and he crashed right into her. Travis cried, “John! What are you doing here, son?”

John saw him and pushed by Kitty, sobbing wildly. “Daddy, Daddy, you gotta come quick,” he screamed, throwing himself into Travis’ waiting arms. “Mommy’s real bad sick. She sent me to get the doctor. I ran all the way, but she’s bad sick. She’s bleeding all over the floor and—”

Travis snatched him up and turned to find that Dr. Watkins was already running to get his bag.

Kitty called out to Dr. Watkins, “I’ll get my bag and come with you, Ambrose.”

Travis was already heading down the hall, holding John tightly against him, running as fast as he could.

They reached the hotel, and Travis took the steps three at a time, still holding John, who was crying wildly. The door to the suite was open, and the first thing he saw when they rushed in were the pools of blood all over the floor.

“Did she fall, John?” he asked, setting the boy down gently.

“No,” he sobbed. “She was bleeding and said for me to run and get the doctor.”

“All right. You go sit down on the sofa and don’t get up till I tell you to.” John obeyed, and Travis headed for the bedroom.

She was lying on the bed, the sheets stained crimson. Her face was drained of color, and her eyes were closed. Hurrying to her side, he called gently, “Marilee, sweetheart, can you hear me?”

She did not respond and, terrified, he felt her pulse. It was weak, but she was alive.

Dr. Watkins rushed in just then, pushing Travis aside. Travis turned and went back into the living room. He was only in the way.

He froze at the sight of Kitty kneeling before John, holding the little boy against her bosom. Mother was comforting son, only neither knew that. It was a sight Travis would never forget as long as he lived.

“She’s going to be all right, John,” Kitty was murmuring as she smoothed back the unruly black hair. “If God wills it so, your mommy will be all right.”

John sniffed. The lady’s warm, violet eyes had made him feel much better. Suddenly deciding he should be a man, he wiped his eyes. “She’s not my real mommy, you know,” he told her. “But I love her like a real mommy. It feels like she is.”

He paused to hiccup and went on, “My real mommy died and went to heaven. I hope God doesn’t take this mommy, too.”

His small body convulsing with a sob, he whimpered, “I don’t want my mommy to die!”

Kitty pulled him tightly into her arms, burrowing her face in his hair, and they cried together, mother and son, sobbing their fears for the lady in the next room.