Reese (26 page)

She spent the rest of that day and all through that long, dark, lonely night changing hot compresses on his shoulder and bathing the rest of his body with cool cloths. She dribbled water into his mouth every time he seemed semiconscious, though he babbled about boys and Georgia and a woman named Laura.

Reese had sworn he had no wife. Should she believe a man who refused to share his name, though he'd shared her bed? Did it matter? Would she love him any less if he belonged to someone else?

Mary rubbed at her grainy eyes. She'd slept in snatches between bouts of Reese's ravings. When he was upset, she held his hand, which was the only thing that seemed to cal him.

"Why don't you let me sit with him a while?"

Jo stood in the doorway. Mary flipped the sheet over Reese's bare chest. "I'm fine."

"If fine is half-dead, you look dandy. Go lie down."

Mary hesitated, but a glance at Reese's face made her realize the truth. "I can't leave him."

"Figured that, but I thought I'd try."

"Who's in the tower?"

"Rose Sutton." Mary's eyebrows lifted, and Jo shrugged. "Since Reese saved her boys, she's grown a spine. Told Baxter to shut up and get behind the counter, she was going to take her turn like any other citizen."

"Wish I could have seen that."

"I enjoyed it."

They exchanged a smile. From the moment the two had met they shared a bond. Mary had never felt such an instant camaraderie with anyone but Jo Clancy.

Unless she counted Reese.

"How does you father feel about your toting a gun and spending nights in the tower?"

"He doesn't like it, but since he's never liked much, I'm not surprised. I've given up trying to please him." Jo tilted her head. "What's this I hear about El Diablo thinking there's gold in Rock Creek?"

"Have you ever heard anything about it?"

"The old guy who owns the hotel mumbled about gold sometimes, but no one ever believed him. And since he left, we can't ask. This was once Comanche land though, so maybe El Diablo knows something we don't."

"Comanche land?"

Jo leaned against the doorway and nodded. "The original settlers built Rock Creek on Comanche land. That's why there aren't any founders left here. Comanches killed them all or drove them off."

"When was this?"

"During the war all the soldiers went east. The Comanches went crazy. They thought they'd won, that the bluecoats had been driven off. So they took back whatever they could."

"And then?"

"When the soldiers returned, they scuttled every Comanche they could find off to Indian Territory."

"Then folks came again to Rock Creek."

"For a while, anyway."

Mary glanced at
Reese
.
He slept peacefully, and his shoulder seemed better. Perhaps he wouldn't leave her by dying, after all.

"You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Mary shifted her gaze to her friend. "I didn't want to. I've managed everything since I was child, but I couldn't manage this."

"You can't manage how you feel; you can't change who you love. What do
you
want, Mary?"

"It doesn't matter. Reese isn't staying, and he never said he was."

"Men change."

"Name one."

"There must be one somewhere, sometime, who's changed."

Mary laughed. Jo always knew what to say to raise her spirits.

"You could go with him," Jo said.

Mary's laughter died. "He wouldn't ask."

"But if he did?"

"I'd go. I'm discovering that I'd do just about anything for this man."

"Then you're a bigger fool than I am."

Mary spun. Though sunken, Reese's eyes were lucid and focused on her. Her cheeks burned at the realization that he'd heard her deepest secret.

She reached for his forehead, but he caught her wrist and held her hand away from him. "Don't fuss. What happened?"

"Well, he seems fine now," Jo said, "so I'll just trot on back to the tower."

Neither Mary nor Reese said good-bye. They were too busy staring at each other. For her, one touch brought everything back. Mouths searching, tongues tasting, hands seeking. Him beside her, above her, within her. His body and hers, theirs, together, right here on this bed.

She tugged on her wrist, and he let her go. Quickly, before he could stop her again, she placed her palm on his forehead. He scowled. She smiled. "Your fever's broke."

"I knew that."

"Did you know you've been lying here for three days, scaring all of us half to death?"

"Three days?"

She shot him an "I told you so" look, and he snarled at her. He was going to live, all right. She wanted to skip and dance and sing. Instead, she sank down into the chair and laid her head next to his hip.

"You scared me, Reese. You really, really scared me."

Then, to her horror, she burst into tears.

* * *

Mary hadn't cried since 1862, but a few weeks in Reese's company and he'd reduced her to tears.

Excellent work.

Because of him she'd nearly died. The story of his life. Everyone he'd ever cared about either died or wished they had never set eyes on him. He wondered which it would be for Mary in the end.

He shouldn't touch her. Since that rainy night in Georgia, he'd learned to smell a mistake a mile away. Touching Mary reeked of a very bad idea.

So whose hand was stroking her hair? Couldn't be his. Reese cursed and gave up, savoring the softness of the strands through his fingers and the warmth of her head next to his thigh. If he wasn't half-dead, he might just enjoy this.

"I'm not worth crying over, Mary. Don't make me out to be some kind of hero."

"Why do you keep insisting you're bad when anyone with eyes can see that you aren't?"

He could barely understand her for the weeping. His chest felt tight. She was going to make
him
start if she didn't stop soon.

"That's enough. You'll cry yourself sick."

She raised her head.
Damn.
She was one of those women who looked good crying.

"You saved my life, Reese. If that isn't a hero, I don't know what is."

"You wouldn't have been in danger in the first place if it wasn't for me."

"And you wouldn't be here with another bullet wound if I hadn't come to Dallas. If you want to blame me for that, go ahead. I did what I had to do. But I'm going to believe what I want to believe. You're a wonderful man."

"The last folks who believed that ended up dead."

"I'll take my chances."

He couldn't help it. He kissed her. She was so perfectly bullheaded. So brilliantly bossy. Who'd have ever thought he'd discover a woman just like him way out here in Texas?

She stiffened with surprise then softened on a sigh. Kissing her in this bed made Reese remember everything else they had done here. And everything they hadn't.

The smell of her skin brought back its taste—at the curve of her hip, along the inside of her knee. Her moan of surrender recalled another of completion. The soft glide of her lips on his brought back the sensation of those lips in several other places.

Reese pulled away. This was getting out of hand, and he really wasn't up to it. But staring into Mary's face, watching as she opened her eyes and smiled at him with her heart and her soul, for a moment he almost believed things could change, he could change, they could have a future, here, together.

Then memories of a past she didn't even know about reared their ugly heads. Once she learned who he had been, what he had done, how he had come to be what he was, she would never let him touch her again.

He kissed her brow in his favorite spot, where the hair grew downy at the temple. He wanted to ask where the men were, but before he could, he fell asleep again.

This time, there were no dreams; he slept the sleep of the exhausted, and when he awoke, he felt stronger. From the slant of the light through the window it was still daytime, and Mary slept in a chair next to the bed.

"Mary?" Her head went up. "Guess I dozed off."

Her smile was soft, sleepy, and he fought the urge to yank her into the bed with him and kiss her dreamy mouth. "An entire day isn't a doze."

Reese blinked. "A day?"

"Yes. You feel better?"

"Much." He struggled with the idea that he'd slept an entire day and it had felt like an hour. "Where are my men?"

Like a cloud passing the sun, a shadow moved across her face. "They went after El Diablo."

Shiny black dots danced in front of Reese's eyes. Thankfully, he was already lying down or he would of had to as thoughts he'd hoped never to have again sped through his mind.

Jed's sister; Rico's too; Nate's new friend, Jo; Sullivan's family—whoever they were—and anyone who might love Cash besides Reese—the list made him sick with trepidation. He had once traveled to the houses of the dead and been shunned at every one.

He'd promised himself he would never again get so close to anyone that their deaths would tumble him into madness. But he'd always been very good at breaking promises.

"I told them not to," he managed.

"You were unconscious. They thought you were dying."

"That's a good reason to go and get themselves killed," he snapped.

"Which is exactly what happened, I am not sorry to say."

Mary let out a squeak of alarm at the voice behind her. Reese yanked her to his side when she would have stood between him and the two men in the doorway.

Jefferson and El Diablo.

From the guns in their hands and the expressions on their faces, Reese would be joining them soon. If it hadn't been for Mary, he wouldn't care.

"What are you saying?" Mary's voice shook.

"They're dead. Every last sneakin' one of 'em," Jefferson said. "We waited for them to come. Knew they would. And they did."

"What do you want?" Reese asked.

"To kill you. I been waitin'."

"You can't mean to shoot a sick man in his bed?" Mary demanded, easing in front of Reese again.

Jefferson laughed and walked into the room, moving so that he was in front of the bed and Mary was out of the line of fire. Reese relaxed a bit. "He don't seem too sick." The man eyed Mary. "From the looks of you, he's been well enough for some kissin'. Wouldn't mind a little of that myself. After."

"I'd shoot myself before I'd let you touch me."

Jefferson's eyes narrowed, and he took a step toward her. Reese braced himself to spring. Danger to Mary made him feel a whole lot stronger.

"Enough!" El Diablo's voice cut through the tension. "We have come here for one thing. Dispose of the leader."

"If all his men are gone," Mary cried, "what possible harm can he do you?"

"He is the only man in a town full of women, children, and cowards. He will lead you as he led the others. I cannot allow that."

"Take your gold; we don't want it."

"There is no gold, foolish woman."

"What?" Jefferson demanded. "You said this town was full of gold."

"I said this town was golden. A place of the sun. Land of the People. Mine. I said what I had to say to get you to help me."

Jefferson's face darkened. "Once I tell the rest there ain't no gold, I wouldn't give a Confederate dollar for your sorry hide."

"Then I guess you will not be telling them."

The gunshot was impossibly loud in the small room. Mary threw herself on top of Reese, and for a moment he thought she'd been shot. But red blossomed across Jefferson's chest. He dropped his gun then followed the weapon to the ground.

Mary moved just enough to see El Diablo while keeping herself in front of Reese. "What kind of monster are you?"

"El Diablo," the old man said, as if that explained everything. "Now, teacher lady, move. I must take him away with me to die."

"He's not going anywhere."

"He will accompany me from this place to make sure no one has gotten brave enough to harm me. I will kill him close enough to town so that you can come and retrieve his body."

"No." Mary's mouth turned mulish.

"I do not wish to kill you and bring the soldiers here. But if I must, I must."

"Mary, move."

"I will not!"

Reese struggled to push her aside, and as he did, he whispered, "I have a plan. Just get out of the way."

She stopped struggling and peered into his face. He nodded, and she got up. Mary understood a good plan.

Too bad he didn't really have one.

Reese dressed as quickly as he could with his wound, then accompanied El Diablo from the room and down the hall toward the door. His mind groped for some way to make this entire mess come out all right. But without his guns and his men, he was helpless.

Reese opened the door, and he and El Diablo stepped onto the porch. The sound of guns being cocked made them both freeze.

A long line of Rock Creek citizens stood in front of Mary's house. Each held a gun, and they appeared as if they not only knew how to use them but planned to.

El Diablo jabbed his pistol into Reese's side. "I am taking him with me."

"No, you aren't," Jo Clancy said. "Put him back where you got him and we'll let you live."

"I can shoot him where he stands; then what will you do?"

"Fill you so full of holes there won't be enough left to bury. Kill him, we kill you, it's that simple. Let him go"—Jo shrugged—"and we'll turn you over to the soldiers alive."

"I would rather die, here, on the land of my ancestors, than live a thousand years anywhere else."

Reese prepared himself to die. Then someone hit him from behind.

He fell, smacking into the plank floor of the porch, a body on his back as a gun fired.

Another thump had Reese turning his head. El Diablo lay dead a few inches away. The body atop his back lifted, and when he flipped over, Mary sat next to him on the porch, staring at El Diablo with a combination of anger and disgust. Reese glanced from the old Indian to William Brown, who stood at the side of the porch with his rifle.

"Comanche for a cougar," Brown said. "Your miserable life for my grandaughter's. I'd say we're even, wouldn't you?"

Chapter 17