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Authors: Deborah Smith

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BOOK: The Beloved Woman
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“Not even if you loved the man something dreadful?”

Katherine winced inwardly. Amarintha would probably act even more strangely if she suspected the truth. “I don’t love Mr. Gallatin, and I never could. I want a man with education and sensitivity, someone who appreciates the finer things, not some backwoods scalawag. Oh, Mr. Gallatin is very kind and likable, but he’s not my type at all.”

“Well, I declare, you certainly take on airs. Justis is better than you deserve.”

Good, Katherine thought. She was defending him now. “Then you may have him. Later. For now, go back to bed before our chatter wakes him up. He’s resting better than he has all day.”

Amarintha nodded. Her blue eyes held a hint of respect along with the dislike. “Good night.”

After she left, Katherine took the blanket off Justis and straightened the sheet. She ached to slip into bed beside him and hold him close.

“Sleep well,” she murmured. “In an hour you get another dose of medicine. For me there’s another dose of cold coffee waiting downstairs—right this second.” Exhausted, her knees so weak that she stumbled, Katherine walked from the room.

Justis opened his eyes and watched her go. Her conversation with Amarintha rang bitterly in his ears.

K
ATHERINE LAID HER
book down and turned from the afternoon sunlight as she heard Justis shoving his covers around. “Stop that,” she commanded, going to him quickly.

He cursed in a sleepy voice that was growing stronger by the hour and pushed the heavy quilts down his chest. “What are you tryin’ to do—boil me now that I’m done roastin’?”

She pried his hands off the quilts and held them snugly across his torso. He was drenched in sweat. “Your fever is breaking. I want you to perspire—and I don’t want you to catch a chill.”

He quieted, panting a little because he was still very weak. “Let go. All right. I’ll stay covered.” She rearranged the quilts. “Leave me alone. Go on with your damned fancy readin’. You’ve done enough.”

Surprised by his anger, she gazed at him in bewilderment. “I don’t mind.”

“You look like a hag. Big ugly circles under your eyes. Hell, what are you doin’, sleeping on one side of your head all the time? Looks like one side’s swollen.”

She backed away from the bed, shocked by his mean temper. “I think the fever fried your brains a bit.”

“No, I just don’t want you killin’ yourself to take care of me. You don’t owe me that. There’s no bond that strong between us.”

“Oh, I see. After all that you’ve done for me, I’m not supposed to return the favor.”

“Have I ever asked you to hang over me like I was your dearly beloved?”

After a startled second, hurt and anger welled up inside her. “No.”

“Then don’t.”

“Fine. I’ll ask Amarintha to feed you dinner, and I’ll go back to the hotel for a while.”

She heard him sputtering as she went out the door.

Katherine waited until nearly dark before she left the hotel and hurried back to the Parnells’ house. She encountered a flushed, disheveled Amarintha at the entrance.

“What did you do to him?” Amarintha demanded angrily. “He tried to kiss me! When I bent over to wipe chicken broth off his cheek he grabbed my hair and pulled my mouth nearly to his! If I hadn’t knocked the bowl of broth onto his—his person, he would have had me!”

She whirled without waiting for an answer and fled to the judge’s library at the back of the house. The judge, thankfully, was out drinking for the evening. Katherine marched upstairs, frowning while anxiety settled heavily in her chest.

Justis sat upright in bed, his face flushed with exertion as he wearily tried to wipe broth off his chest with the
corner of a quilt. When he saw her he attempted to look nonchalant. “Didn’t expect you back so soon.”

She grabbed a small towel and wet it at the washstand. Her mouth grim, she went to him, pushed his fumbling hands away, and began to wipe up the broth. Under the thick reddish-brown hair his skin was ruddy from being burned.

“I guess Amarintha told you what happened.”

“She said you tried to kiss her.” Katherine went back to the washstand, rinsed the cloth carefully, and returned to him. She continued her cleaning without another word.

“You don’t care?” he muttered.

“I care that you’re being a first-rate jackass for some reason I don’t understand.”

“I’m just a lot less needy than you think. I don’t have to have one woman in particular.”

“Well, grand. Now you’ve got no woman, no dinner, and a scalded chest.” She threw the towel on the night-stand and began checking the covers. “And you’ve got broth all over your sheets. Well, I’d meant to change them anyway. If you’re strong enough to pester Amarintha, you’re strong enough to get out of bed for a few minutes.”

“I don’t feel like it.”

She whipped the covers back and haughtily surveyed his nakedness. “Phew.
U-ne-gi-li-di
. Ugly. I’ll get a quilt to hide the sight of all that hairy skin.”

The language that came from his mouth was more scalding than hot broth ever could be. Trembling with weak rage, he shoved his feet off the bed. When she came back with the blanket he snatched it out of her hands and drew it around his waist. He was panting for breath.

“Go ahead, make yourself sick again,” she said bitterly.

“You cold-hearted hellion!”

He braced his feet and used one hand to give himself a violent push upward. He stood, swayed dizzily, and immediately careened backward against the tall bedstead. As he slid to the floor, Katherine cried out in dismay and caught him by the shoulders. His teeth began to chatter.

“Oh, Justis, damn you for making me be a jackass too.” She dragged a quilt from the bed and put it over his shoulders. He gave her a disgruntled look, but she knelt and slipped her arms around him anyway. “Be still. Rest a minute,” she whispered hoarsely. Defeated by his illness, he muttered an oath, then laid his head on her shoulder.

They didn’t speak anymore. She got up finally and changed the bed, then helped him back into it. When he was warmly covered she sat down beside him and wiped a last bit of drying broth from his chest. All the while she was aware of him watching her with hooded, unhappy eyes.

“I’ll bring you some more dinner,” she told him.

“That silliness with Amarintha. Didn’t mean nothing.”

She looked at him firmly. “What are you trying to prove to me? Why are you angry?”

“I’m tired of gibbering with you over what’s best to do. I’ve got no more sweet talk, Katherine. Let’s get down to brass tacks.”

“This is very serious,” she said pensively. “You called me Katherine.”

He nodded. “You’ve got something I want—culture and education—plus some basic attractions that I reckon I don’t have to describe in detail. I’ve got something you want—Blue Song gold—plus some basic attractions that you’re pretty familiar with after the past couple of days.”

“All right. We’ve discussed this before.”

“No. We’ve talked about marriage. I don’t want to marry you anymore. I offered in the first place only ’cause it’s what your folks would have liked. It’s pretty clear that you aren’t ever gonna want to marry me, or
love me, so I don’t feel guilty for takin’ the offer back. White and Indian together brings too much grief. Are we agreed on that point?”

“Yes.” She looked away, dying in slow degrees while she managed a neutral expression by biting her tongue until it bled. “And so?”

“So you go to New York with me. You teach me what I need to know about fancy manners, help me impress the business nabobs up there, and you’ll walk away in a year or two a rich woman. Owned by nobody but yourself.”

“You’re asking me to be your mistress?”

“That’s right.”

“And what if we have a child from this arrangement?”

“We won’t, if I can help it. I don’t like the idea of raisin’ a half-breed any more than you probably do.” He looked at her grimly. “There’s a way of being careful. All I have to do is keep myself under control until—”

“I understand.” She managed a semblance of a smile. “I’m a doctor, you know.”

“Then you’re agreed?”

“What if I say no?”

A deadly stillness settled in his eyes. “Then you’ll never get your share of gold. You’ll always be my charity case—and I’ll get you into my bed sooner or later, to boot.”

“I suppose I accept, then.”

She laughed. She bent over and touched her head to the covers and laughed until it became a soft wail. She began to choke, and tears slid down her face. He made a sound of distress and moved over enough to pull her onto the bed alongside him. His arm over her, he held her as tightly as his returning strength would allow. As she quieted, he kissed the top of her head, and his words were muffled in her hair.

“I was raised havin’ to fight for everything I wanted. To fight dirty, to steal, to hurt other people without
thinkin’ about it too much. I know some of that’s still in me. I don’t care if you don’t love me—I’m gonna have you anyway. This deal isn’t what you want, but I swear to God that I wouldn’t force you into it if I didn’t think it’d serve you best in the long run.”

She wiped her face. “I owe you so much. You’ve been kind in so many ways. I suppose you really do think this is kind too.”

“You’ll be happy.” He exhaled in relief. “I’m glad you don’t hate me.”

They lay there quietly and she felt his chest move slower against her back. His breath cascaded onto her neck, warm and regular. He was exhausted, and she suspected he’d sleep soundly for hours now that the fever was gone.

She got up and very carefully slipped the leather necklace and its gold nugget from around his neck. She put the necklace around her own neck and hid it under her shirt. Then she kissed him gently on the mouth, taking care her tears didn’t fall on his face.

“You’re a scoundrel, but I love you dearly,” she whispered. “Good-bye.”

A
MARINTHA KEPT GAZING
about furtively, and Katherine knew she was afraid the judge would ride up at any minute. From the front porch of the Parnell house, she and Amarintha watched the doors of the square’s brightly lit taverns and gambling halls.

“Oh, botheration,” Amarintha said nervously. “Let’s go ahead and get it over with.”

They left the porch and walked a short distance from the house, to where the road narrowed and the forest began to close in on civilization. They turned off the road, their shoes crunching on dried leaves.

Katherine halted after a dozen paces. “I’ll be hidden well enough here. Tell Captain Taylor to stop his buggy
near the big walnut tree with the bent trunk.” She set her valise and doctor’s satchel down, then pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. “I’ll be waiting.”

Amarintha gasped when an owl screeched nearby. “I’ll tell him.” She peered at Katherine in the darkness. “You’d better be pleasant to him. This is a great favor he’s doing.”

Katherine laughed bitterly. “Dear girl, I’m doing
him
the favor. Since I’m leaving town, Justis will never find out that the captain struck me. I’m sure Captain Taylor is happy to escape the worst beating of his life.”

Amarintha had known Taylor would be in town playing poker. She’d sent for him, and when he’d learned what she wanted, he had definitely looked pleased. No, he didn’t want anyone telling Justis Gallatin about the scene at the stockade.

Katherine studied the nervous woman beside her. “I appreciate your help.”

“ ’Tis my pleasure.”

“I’m sure. I knew that no one else would be so eager to get me out of town.”

“You’re very right.”

Desperation made strange companions, indeed, Katherine mused. Amarintha had gone to the hotel and stuffed a valise with some of Katherine’s clothes and personal items, plus a small pouch of gold coins. She’d explained to Sam and Rebecca that Katherine would be staying at the Parnells’ for several days, while Justis recuperated.

“Remember what we discussed,” Katherine warned. “In the morning you’re to tell everyone that I was in Justis’s room reading a book when you went to bed. You don’t know where I disappeared to after that.”

“Don’t lecture me, you arrogant savage! Of course I’ll remember!”

Katherine fought for patience. Through the trees she glimpsed a lamp burning in a window of the Parnell
house. She was torn apart by the knowledge that Justis lay sleeping in that house and that she would never see him again.

She spoke to Amarintha as pleasantly as she could. “I just want you to realize that Mr. Gallatin will track me down if he has any idea where I’ve gone. Not because he cares for me but simply because he considers me his property and his responsibility. If you let slip where I’ve gone, and he finds me, it won’t do a bit of good for your romantic designs, will it?”

“You regard your charms too highly. I’m sure he’ll be relieved to be free of you.”

“Don’t risk it.”

Amarintha thought for a moment, then said peevishly, “Well, go farther, then. Don’t stop in Tennessee.”

“I have to find what few relatives I have left. They’ll probably be at one of the stockades there. Don’t fear, Amarintha, I’m not coming back. I’ll head west with the rest of my people.”

Suddenly Amarintha’s curiosity exploded. “I don’t understand why! Why are you giving up? If it’s a trick, I’ll—”

“It’s no trick,” Katherine retorted. “And my reasons are none of your business. You want me to go, and I’m going. Let that be enough for you.”

“Be sure you never come back!” Amarintha whirled toward the road. When she reached the edge of the woods she turned and stood braced as if for battle. “I’m going to marry Justis Gallatin! You needn’t doubt it! I’ll be his wife and no one will ever cause me misery again!” Then she fled toward home as if the forest had been listening.

Katherine slumped to her knees, trembling inside her cloak. Justis would marry someone, but it wouldn’t be strange little Amarintha Parnell, who could barely stomach a man’s touch.

She looked again toward the light of the Parnell house,
and her hands clenched in hopeless sorrow. Her family was gone, her home was gone. Though the land remained—and she believed it once more would be hers someday—that was no consolation now. All she could take with her were memories of an outrageous and unique man who’d captured part of her soul.

BOOK: The Beloved Woman
4.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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