The Trailrider's Fortune (27 page)

"But not
closely enough," Majesta replied with confidence. "When two people
can't keep their eyes off each other, yet never lay a finger on one another,
it's generally because they can't trust themselves to leave it at a
finger." She arched a brow at him. "Didn't it strike you as odd, her
showing up with him out of nowhere? He claimed he'd been courting her for over
a year. Why hadn't she mentioned him before? She was just here a month or so
ago. She could have told you someone was calling on her. Why hide their
relationship, if it was proper and chaste?"

Jace had been ready
to dismiss his wife's suspicions until she asked that. The question plagued him
for the next hour. Could she be right about Sparkle and the rancher? If she
was, Conley's decision to break things off made even less sense. Sparkle had
been upset with the LaFleurs, after all, not Conley. Though she did bark at him
to shut up at one point…

Ludicrous, he told
himself. If they'd been lovers for any time, the fellow surely would have
weathered a fit of pique. He'd mentioned something about her boiling over…And
looked darned uncomfortable, now that Jace reflected back on it. Maybe there
was something to Majesta's mistrust.

Jace didn't like to
think of Sparkle being misused and cast aside so easily. But if Majesta was
wrong, why indeed had Sparkle kept the relationship secret? Because of this
mysterious "other man" Conley hinted at?

Someone Conley
intimated she knew here in the city. The problem with that line of reasoning
was that Jace didn't believe it was true. There would have been signs…personal
notes, flowers, a rosy glow in Sparkle's cheeks when she came through the front
door. Something. So what the hell was going on?

If Sparkle and
Conley had a sexual liaison, she should have jumped at his proposal. Jace
sensed it was genuine on the cattleman's part. He cared for Jace's sister, his
feelings had been plain to read on his rugged face. Sparkle should have gladly
accepted an offer of marriage from him, not manufactured some tale about a
non-existent rival. Unless it wasn't a tale. But it had to be, didn't it?
Unless…his mind reached the only other possible conclusion. She hadn't told
anyone about this "other man" because she'd become involved with some
other woman's husband.

They would have a
serious talk, Jace decided, and soon. He wouldn't let her put him off this
time. She had a way of evading questions and turning conversations away from
herself. Not now, by God. If she'd been ill-used by Conley or some married
local gent, Jace would do whatever necessary to put things right. Even if that
meant threatening to reveal an ongoing affair to some poor matron, in order to
keep her husband home with his trousers buttoned.

Three days later,
Jace saw his opportunity. Majesta had gone out shopping. Sparkle had taken her
laundry to the basement. They were alone in the house. He'd never get a better
chance to speak to her candidly about her social life. He inched his chair near
the open basement doorway and called down to his sister.

"Sparkle, I
want to talk to you. I know you're not comfortable discussing private things in
front of Majesta. She's not here now. I'm your brother, and I have a right to
know what's going on."

She scowled up at
him. "Nothing's going on. I'm unemployed."

"That's not
what I mean, and you know it. You're clearly more distraught than you admit
over the falling out with Conley. I heard you crying last night in your room. I
want to know who this other man is, and what he means to you. Conley said here
was someone else in the picture. Just when and where have you been meeting him?
Is there some reason you've told him not to call for you here?"

She glanced up,
wringing out a garment over the washtub. "There's no other man. Rafe was
mistaken, Jace. About several things."

"Why would he
believe there was someone else, unless you gave him that impression?"

"I don't know,
and I don't need you watching me rinse out my underthings," she
admonished, frowning over her shoulder. "I'll be up in a minute."

"And you'll
change the subject or breeze right past me and trot upstairs. I know you think
this is none of my business, but—"

"No, I
know
it isn't. I'm sorry I brought Rafe Conley here. Forget about him. I mean
to."

His rising anger
got the better of him. "I would," he ground out," but Majesta
seems to think you've been sleeping with him. If that's true, he'll do right by
you. I may be restricted by this chair, but by God, there are lawyers and
social codes and expectations when a man ruins a virgin. He'll do the honorable
thing."

Sparkle turned
then. "Force Rafe to marry me because
Majesta
thinks we were
lovers? My word. For a new bride, she certainly focuses her energy on other
people's sexual activities. But then, she probably hasn't got any of her own.
What can you do for her, Jace? Do you take her in the bathtub or up against the
wall, the way Rafe took me? Is
that
what you wanted to hear me
say?"

"Good God, you
can't be telling me you let that man—"

Her fury abruptly
turned to horror. "Jace,
the stairs
!"

Even as she
shrieked in warning, he rolled too close to the edge. His chair pitched
forward, plunging him down the basement steps headfirst. He went tumbling like
a rag doll. The chair bounced after him. Sparkle threw herself over him as he
hit bottom, letting the chair strike her back and shoulders, trying to spare
him further injury. But when she saw his pallor and inertia, she feared it
might not matter.

* * *

"You may as
well go home," the doctor advised Sparkle hours later. "His wife's
staying tonight. We'll do everything we can. You're exhausted. I'll be
admitting you next, if you don't get some rest."

"I don't think
I can close my eyes. Every time I do, I see that chair tumbling again. God, if
Jace isn't all right, I don't know what I'll do."

"It's
primarily a few cracked ribs and contusions," the young medico advised for
the third time.

"Then why
doesn't he wake up?"

"Let's talk
about that." The doctor took her hand and settled onto the bench beside
her, squeezing her fingers. "Mrs. LaFleur says your brother's been
incapacitated since he was a child, due to some accident. His right side has
atrophied. He can't use that arm or leg normally. Is that correct?"

Sparkle nodded, her
tone grave. "Jace was shot in the head years ago. He was…let's see, I was
nine, so Jace would have been twelve. Thirteen? I'm not sure. Sorry," she
rattled. "I'm not thinking clearly."

The doctor's gray
eyes were kind. "Miss LaFleur, it was an accident. People argue. You
didn't push your brother down the stairs. If you hadn't kept the chair from
falling on top of him, he might be at the undertaker's now, instead of this
hospital. You'll have some nasty bruises yourself." He gently probed
around her shoulder blades. "Would you like me to look at your back?"

"No, it's all
right. Anyway, when Jace was shot, the doctors said it was safer to leave the
bullet where it was, rather than try to remove it. The wound never festered,
and eventually Jace recovered. For the most part."

"How
extraordinary. The bullet's still lodged in his brain?"

"Yes. That's
why he can only move his right leg sometimes. His nurse—excuse me, now she's
his wife—tries to work with him to make him stronger. He doesn't remember
anything before we moved here. We lived in Texas when he was injured."

The doctor looked
pensive. "It's possible this fall may have dislodged the slug…assuming he
struck his head at some point during the tumble. I want to bring in a colleague
with more surgical experience. Perhaps we'll be able to get the foreign object
out of your brother's skull at long last."

"The
bullet's
why he's unconscious?"

"It may be, or
he could have a concussion. But don't worry, I'm in charge of his case, and
I've never lost a patient yet." He winked and released her hand.

"I'd like to
see Majesta before I go."

"Certainly.
Right through those doors." 

Sparkle slunk into
the hospital room. Majesta was in a chair pulled close beside the bed. She
barely acknowledged Sparkle's presence, continuing to stare down at Jace.

"Majesta, I'm
so sorry," Sparkle whispered. "I know it's not enough, but I have to
say it. I'm sorry I quarreled with Jace and he fell. I'm sorry for the things I
said to you. I'm sorry I ever came home. I'm going now to pack. I'll find
another job somewhere and send money when I can."

"Jace needs
more than money," Majesta responded dully. "He needs your happiness.
You've never given him that. It would mean more than you know."

Sparkle's eyebrows
shot up. "But—I'm not all that unhappy," she lied. "Just
unsettled at the moment."

"Still telling
stories, Sparkle?" Majesta searched her face now. "You love that man
you brought to the house and heaven help him, he loves you. You two couldn't
stop looking at one another, caressing each other with your eyes. Jace doesn't
understand about that. I'm nearly thirty, Sparkle, and your brother isn't the
first man I've loved."

Sparkle nearly
choked. Majesta saw the startled reaction, but continued unfazed.
"Whatever happened to cause a rift, you still need Mr. Conley. Do you
think old maid schoolteacher is any great improvement over saloon girl? Jace
wouldn't. You make him believe you hate us, for having what you would deny
yourself."

"I don't hate
either of you." Sparkle realized it was the bald truth. "You've done
exactly what I've paid you to do, and more. You've loved Jace and understood
him. As I love and understand Rafe." She dropped her gaze. "Deeply,
as you guessed. But he's rough and wild, not the kind of man a woman marries.
Not safe and predictable. Not constant and true, like Jace."

Majesta seemed to
reflect on that. "But you're not trapped in social convention like me,
either. And you shouldn't judge what's right for you by what other wives
choose. We each need different things. Our men need different things from us.
Mr. Conley appears to need your spirit. You're a courageous person,
Sparkle."

Sparkle stared at
her, thunderstruck.

Majesta was
worldly, actually quite wise. Sparkle had never noticed. Why hadn't she ever
talked
to Majesta before?

Sparkle turned her
gaze to Jace. "Dr. Barlow says they may be able to remove the bullet. I
don't know if brain surgery's the right thing. What do you think? You're
trained in medicine."

"I trust the
doctor's professional judgment, but I won't consent to surgery without you
here. If we're going to risk losing him, I think
both
the women who love
Jace need to make the choice together. Be strong together. Please don't leave
town. Stay until Jace can say farewell. Don't go now."

"Please"
had never been in Majesta's vocabulary. Not where Sparkle was concerned.
"All right. I'll be at the house if there's any change. I'll come back
just after dawn, then you can go home to get some proper rest. We'll take turns
keeping the vigil."

"Sparkle."

She paused at the
door and turned back to meet Majesta's concerned blue eyes again. Concerned,
but not fearful. Majesta wasn't afraid, Sparkle saw, and it gave her hope.

"I've never
had a sister," Majesta said softly.

"Me
either."

"I'd like
one."

Sparkle swallowed
and nodded. "Yes. See you in the morning."

Sparkle had never
truly had a brother, either. But she'd had Jace, her oldest and dearest friend.
A friend who needed her now. And was married to a strong, intelligent,
determined woman who could also become a friend in her own right—if Sparkle
gave her the chance. It didn't feel awful confronting their marriage when
Sparkle looked at it that way. She didn't have to be at odds with Majesta;
she'd chosen to be.

This could be a
second chance for all of them. Acceptance could dissolve away the bitterness.
Not only because Sparkle honestly believed in forgiveness instead of revenge
and grudges, but because she knew with sudden clarity that Jace and Majesta had
always belonged together.

She'd chosen
Majesta from a pool of nursing candidates. Selected her, somehow knowing
exactly who and what she was really choosing. Sparkle simply hadn't wanted to
admit it before. But hadn't she always told herself—Rafe, too, that day in the
parlor—that she'd overlooked Majesta's haughty manner because the nurse was
wonderful with Jace?

Sparkle knew things
intuitively at times. Now she acknowledged that some dim part of her sensed
this would come to pass one day. It had stunned her at first, but didn't truly
come as a surprise.

After all, Sparkle
reminded herself, she
was
a fortune teller.

"Well, Miss
LaFleur," Dr. Barlow remarked in a mellow tone, "if it weren't for
your brother's fortuitous accident, we wouldn't be together this evening."