The Rawhide Man (13 page)

“Don’t you want to see what they bought?” Jude asked Bess.

She stopped with her back to them, blind to the hopeful look on his face, the almost pleading one on Crystal’s.

“I need some coffee. I’ll make a pot, shall I?” she asked brightly, and walked away before they could question the quaver in her voice.

Bess didn’t look at Jude for the rest of the night; she couldn’t bear to remember how she’d tempted him. He was going to be furious about that. He always was when his fiery ardor cooled. She kept carefully out of his way until she could sneak upstairs and go to bed.

“Why didn’t you go with us today?” Katy asked as Bess tucked her into bed. “We missed you. Crystal said we should have dragged you along and made you come.”

“I had things to do here, darling,” Bess said with a smile. “I’m glad you had fun, though.”

“I didn’t. Not really,” Katy admitted. She reached up and kissed Bess’s cool cheek. “Crystal is fun to be with, but she just talks all the time, like she’s afraid to stop, so nobody else ever gets to. You know? You listen.”

Bess’s eyes clouded. She kissed the young girl back. “I love you,” she whispered.

Katy beamed. “I love you, too. Good night, Bess. Isn’t it nice that Daddy’s home?”

“Lovely, darling.”

“He said he’d be up to tuck me in later. He had to talk to Crystal.”

Bess nodded, turning away before Katy could see her hurt expression. “Good night, darling.”

“‘Night, Bess, sleep well.”

Back in her own room, Bess put on her flannel gown and crawled wearily into bed. She felt vaguely nauseated, and the swelling in her breasts was beginning to be uncomfortable. Something that should have happened three weeks ago hadn’t, and she felt frankly nervous. It was too soon to tell, of course, but she had an odd feeling that she was carrying Jude’s baby.

Her hands went unconsciously to her flat stomach. A baby. A little boy with green eyes and black hair, or a little girl who might look a lot like Katy. She smiled. Even if she lost Jude, at least she’d have the baby to love. She could give it all the warmth and adoration she longed to give to him. Except that he didn’t want it. He only wanted her body, and not even that when Crystal was around.

What if Crystal did want him? She was playing her cards close, and Bess couldn’t figure out why she was staying at Big Mesquite so long. Why wouldn’t she go back to Oakgrove, or to France, or somewhere? But it would be impolite to ask her to leave. She laughed shortly. Jude would never let her go anyway. He…cared about her. He laughed with her. She hit the pillow with an angry fist. Why couldn’t he laugh with Bess like that?

Even as she was silently asking the question, the door opened and Jude walked in. He was wearing his suit slacks, but only a partially unbuttoned white shirt with them. And he looked oddly tired. Worn-out.

“Yes?” she asked coldly.

He laughed shortly. “So we’re back to that, are we?” he asked quietly. “The mask is in place, the barriers are up. I can’t get near you.”

“Can’t you?” she asked bitterly.

“Physically, yes,” he agreed. He rammed his hands into his pockets and went to stand beside the bed, looking down at her tousled hair and flushed face with strange, lingering eyes.

“That was all you wanted, wasn’t it?” she asked.

“At first.” His eyes searched her face. “I must have hurt you a hell of a lot those first few weeks.”

“Don’t worry, Jude, I’m a survivor,” she replied, lowering her eyes to the coverlet.

He sat down on the bed, tilting the mattress with his weight, and she cringed away from him.

“Oh, God, don’t do that,” he ground out, wincing. “Bess, I won’t hurt you. I won’t even touch you if you don’t want it.”

She relaxed a little, but she was still tense, and it showed.

“What do you want?” she asked unsteadily.

“What a question.” He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and glanced at her. “Do you mind?”

She shook her head. He lit it and rose to produce an ashtray from the dresser before he sat down again. “Bess, we can’t go on like this.”

Cold sensations worked down her backbone. “You want a divorce?” she asked.

“No!” he burst out, scowling. “For God’s sake, I told you at the beginning that it wasn’t going to be a fly-by-night marriage.”

“Yes, of course,” she whispered.

He drew on the cigarette. “I meant, we’ve got to start trying. Both of us. Doing things together, living like married people. We’ve got to stop making our lives and Katy’s a battleground.”

Katy. Of course. He was worrying about Katy, as usual. She folded her hands and stared at them. “What do you suggest?”

He looked down at her. “You could start sleeping with me.”

“Will your bed hold all three of us?” she asked venomously.

His eyes flashed. “I’ll tell you one more time. I am not sleeping with your sister,” he said coldly.

“My stepsister,” she corrected.

He ran an angry hand through his thick hair. “My God, can’t we even talk without arguing?”

Her face was icy, but she kept her mouth shut.

“Bess, meet me halfway,” he said softly, glancing at her. “You can’t know how hard this is for me. I’m painfully aware of how I’ve treated you. But at least make the effort, can’t you?”

She watched him curiously. She wondered at this change in him. Or was it just another trick, another way to make her pay for forcing him into a marriage he didn’t want?

“You don’t trust me, do you?” he asked levelly.

“How can I?” she asked honestly. “Every time you let me get close, you find some nasty way of getting at me, of making me pay for what you consider your weakness.”

He bent his head and smoked his cigarette quietly. “Yes,” he said finally. “I suppose I do. Next to Katy, you’re the only weakness I’ve ever discovered, society girl.” He laughed bitterly.

“And you hate that,” she muttered. “You hate being out of control in any way.”

“Don’t you?” He lifted his head, watching her. “You fought every inch of the way that first time with me, not to give in, not to let me please you. But it happened anyway, and you were angry, just as I was.”

She lowered her eyes to his chest. “I was the one who paid for it,” she murmured.

“Yes,” he said curtly. “I hurt you. I meant to. But it backfired, in ways you can’t imagine.” He bent over her, holding her eyes. “But all that aside, we can’t go on like this. Avoiding each other, cutting at each other. We’re married, Bess, for good. We’ve got to pick up the pieces and make a go of it.”

“Then send Crystal away,” she said coldly.

He lifted his chin. “Is that an ultimatum?” he asked. “Have you reached the stage where you think you can give me orders because you know I want you?”

She swallowed. “I’m not trying to do that.”

“It sure as hell sounds like it.” He got to his feet, glaring down at her. “I’ll go halfway, lady. But I won’t go the distance. When you’re ready to talk sense, you know where to find me.”

“Sure,” she agreed. “Wherever my stepsister is.”

He gave her a hot glare before he walked out the door, slamming it behind him. Bess lay there with tears running silently down her cheeks. Why hadn’t she agreed to try, at least? Why were her emotions so haywire that she couldn’t even talk rationally? She turned her face into the pillow. It was probably all just tension. Just tension. Her body would resume its natural rhythm in no time. She wasn’t pregnant, she wasn’t! It was all just her own imagination.

As the days passed, Jude invited her to go places with him: into town to buy wire, on brief trips to neighboring ranches, to social affairs. And she turned down every invitation abruptly and without explanation.

“My God, Bess, won’t you even try?” he growled one night in exasperation.

“I am trying. To be left alone,” she returned.

He sighed wearily, watching her in an increasingly familiar way, one that turned her weak. “One day I’m going to take the choice right out of your hands, honey,” he said in a menacingly soft tone. “I’m going to carry you up to my bed and love you out of your mind. Then we’ll talk.”

She flushed and got up out of her chair. “About what? About how you hate wanting me?” she asked. “Well, I don’t want you, Jude. Not anymore.”

He made a sudden move toward her, and she backed up against the door, wide-eyed and frightened.

He scowled darkly at that look and hesitated. “I could make you beg,” he said harshly.

Didn’t she know it. Her eyes closed. “What would be the point?” she said gently. “I haven’t made any trouble lately, have I? I’ve been polite and sweet to Crystal, and you and I have put on a grand front. Katy thinks everything is just fine.”

He sighed wearily. “Bess, do you hate me?” he asked quietly.

She studied his face, noticing how tired and worn he looked, how sad. “No,” she said. “I don’t hate you.”

He moved toward her slowly. “We could sleep together,” he said. “No sex. Just sleep. We could try to get used to each other.”

But she couldn’t bear that. Especially now. Because she was beginning to lose her breakfast each morning, and Jude wasn’t stupid. He’d know.

She swallowed. “I…like sleeping alone,” she whispered.

“That’s the whole damned problem with our marriage,” he said curtly. “You like doing everything alone!”

“Well, I didn’t drag you out here and force you to marry me!” she burst out, tears welling up in her eyes.

He reached out and dragged her into his arms, holding her close, rocking her like a child. “Hush, honey,” he whispered. “Hush, now, don’t cry. Don’t. Please don’t.” His hand soothed her cheek, her hair. His lips touched her forehead, her cheeks, the corner of her tear-washed mouth. “Don’t cry, honey, I can’t stand it.”

He was so tender. Tender in a way he never had been before, and she reacted to it helplessly, letting him dry her tears with his handkerchief.

“So trusting,” he breathed, studying her eyes. “You used to look at me like that once. In the very beginning. And I cut you like a whip, didn’t I?”

She dropped her eyes to his chest. “You didn’t want to marry me. I understood.”

His hands caught her shoulders and held them bruisingly tight. “I didn’t want to marry anyone. But I wanted you so damned much. I’d wanted you for years. And once I had you, all I could think about was having you again.” He leaned his forehead against hers with a weary sigh. “Bess, I get up wanting you in the morning and I go to bed wanting you at night. Isn’t that revenge enough for you?”

It was. Oh, yes, it was. But she didn’t think she could bear to be intimate with him again when he didn’t love her.

“I’m so tired, Jude,” she whispered. “I need to sleep.”

He drew away, studying her. “You really don’t want me anymore?” he asked quietly.

Gritting her teeth, she slowly shook her head.

He let her go finally with a rough laugh and turned away. “I’m not even surprised. Women haven’t made a habit of wanting me.”

He was at the door when she remembered Elise and the scars and all the torment he’d sustained at the hands of women who didn’t want him.

“Jude!” she cried.

But he wouldn’t look at her. “Go to sleep, Bess. I won’t bother you again.”

And with that mocking remark, he went out and closed the door between them.

Chapter Nine

T
he next morning Crystal was at the breakfast table when Bess got there, sitting next to Jude and apparently flirting for all she was worth.

“There you are, finally,” Crystal chided. “I thought you were going to spend the day in bed.”

Actually, she’d been in the bathroom, not in bed, feeling sicker than usual first thing in the morning. But it wouldn’t do to let that out, so she smiled instead.

“I was sleepy,” she told her stepsister. “Hi, Katy,” she added, winking at the young girl. Jude, she ignored.

“Crystal wants to go and see the Alamo this morning,” he said, forcing her to look at him.

“You’ll have fun, I’m sure,” she replied coolly.

“You and Katy are coming, too,” he continued, finishing his eggs.

“No, I’m not,” Bess replied. “I don’t feel like hiking around downtown.”

His eyes narrowed. “I said, you’re coming.”

“Now, Bess, don’t spoil the day for the rest of us,” Crystal coaxed, and shook back her glorious hair. “You were telling Katy the other day that you wanted to see it. Why not today?”

Bess could have told her stepsister why not, but she bit her tongue and sipped her coffee instead. “All right,” she said finally.

“You’ll like it, honest you will,” Katy promised. “You and I will go around the grounds and I’ll show you this neat old squirrel who poses for pictures.”

“She isn’t kidding,” Jude said with a quiet smile. “He’s an old squirrel, and he actually will stand still when he’s photographed.”

“Have you taken his photo, Jude?” Crystal asked.

“No, but my office is near the Alamo grounds. Sometimes, in the spring, I walk around there at lunchtime on my way to a restaurant.”

Bess studied his hard face as he smiled back at Crystal, and she wished that he’d smile at her like that. But it wasn’t good to live in a dreamworld, she told herself, and finished her breakfast.

The Alamo Plaza was located near the historic Menger Hotel, and Bess was surprised by the immensity of its grounds, which included paved walkways and benches and tables as well as buildings, all dedicated to the preservation of the old mission’s history.

The second stone church of Mission San Antonio de Valero stood with ancient dignity, flanked by gates on either side, which led to the rest of the compound. Bess touched the scarred stone with fingers that trembled as she felt the bravery and torment of the 180-odd men who had died there one cold March day in 1836. Her eyes moved up and down it with quiet awe as she tried to imagine what it would have been like to face certain death at the hands of Santa Anna’s overwhelming Mexican forces.

“Six of the men who died here were Georgians, including Bowie, though some people say he was actually from Kentucky,” Jude told her, moving to her side.

She glanced up. “Really?”

“Some were from Ireland and England and Germany. Travis was from South Carolina, Crockett from Tennessee.” His own lean hand touched the surface of the building. “They left us quite a legacy. It takes a special kind of courage to face death in the way they faced it.”