When a Texan Gambles (33 page)

He pulled her close. “No. How about you?‘

“No, Sam. I’m lucky to have found you.”

Sam thought about what the Ranger had said about how he yelled at Sarah and acted mean to her half the time. Looking back he could remember more words said in anger than he’d like to think about. But his yelling didn’t seem to affect her much; she did whatever she wanted to.

“You know, Sarah, Sheriff Riley might let you out of the fine and then there wouldn’t be any reason you had to be married to me.”

She placed her hands on his sore, bruised faced. “I am married to you Sam. Now go to sleep. Tomorrow we will finally be at our house.”

Our house, Sam thought. He’d begun to think of it as hers. It was all he had to offer her, a safe place, a place all her own. Maybe Jacob was wrong, maybe she would love the house and not mind so much that he wasn’t around.

But dawn arrived with him dreading the day. He’d set her up in the place and ride away. Because if he didn’t she would never be safe.

Jacob said farewell to them where the road divided. He planned to ride into Denton and catch the train north. He promised to telegram Sam as soon as he knew Zeb Whitaker was safely locked away. Sam let Sarah believe she had nothing to worry about, but both men knew a rumor told in a bar was not to be believed completely.

When they left Jacob, Sam gave his horse full rein, suddenly in a hurry to show Sarah his place. She caught up to him, and they raced northwest toward open country.

As they climbed the last hill, Sam saw the chimney peeking up over the horizon, the roof of the barn reflected off the afternoon sun. Sam pointed a moment before he knew something was wrong. With a sudden kick of his horse, he bolted forward, dreading what he knew he would see even before he cleared the hill.

“What?” was all he heard Sarah say as he rode away from her.

He reached the top of the hill and pulled his mount. There before him was the valley he’d thought of as home for years. The barn, the corral, the trees down by the pond. But the house, all except for the chimney, had been replaced by a pile of burned rubble.

For a moment, Sam couldn’t make his mind believe what he knew his eyes saw. The house hadn’t been big, but it had been solid. It could have withstood any storm.

Sarah caught up with him, but he hardly noticed. She reached for his hand, but he pulled away and rode down the hill.

She found him again standing in the cold ashes of his home, a note in his hand.

“What happened?” She stood on the edge of the mess. She waited on what once had been a porch he’d built for watching sunsets. Sam looked up at her, thinking he could never remember watching one, only planning to someday. Now it was too late.

“A neighbor left me a note. He says the fire was set. The town folks overheard a group of wild young boys bragging about watching it burn.” Sam glanced down at the paper he’d pulled off one of the few poles left standing. “He said the sheriff’s not sure if it was directed at me, or if the boys just wanted to do some damage and knew this house sat empty.” Sam handed her the letter.

“You’re Mr. Garrett here, also?”

Sam took a deep breath, hating the smell that filled his lungs. “Garrett’s my real name, Sarah. I just used Gatlin because I thought it sounded hard like the gun. I bought the place under my real name thinking no one would find me here.”

“You don’t know that they have.”

“I don’t know that they haven’t.” Sam kicked at what had once been a chair. “We should ride into town and check with a clerk named Willoby, who serves part-time as the town sheriff. Maybe he’ll be able to tell us more.”

“I’m staying here,” she said, as if there would be no further discussion.

“You can‘t,” he answered. “There’s nothing here.”

Sarah’s light blue eyes stared up at him. “There’s my home here. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Sam needed time to himself anyway, so he didn’t argue. If she wanted to stay and cry over the loss of her home, she had a right, he guessed. He rode into town trying to make sense out of what had happened. Before he reached the cluster of buildings, he removed his gun belt, placed it over the saddle horn, and covered it with his duster.

To his surprise the sheriff seemed both interested and sorry for his loss, but could offer little in the way of information. He thought the boys were only passing through, coming home from a cattle drive. Sam had a gut feeling that whoever burned his place did so knowing whom they were making mad.

The owner of the mercantile seemed interested in Sam’s problem. He even offered to cut the usual cost of lumber if he planned to rebuild. The town’s saloon consisted of a small room in the back of the general store. When Sam passed through to look at the lumber on hand, several of the men joined in the discussion of what a crime the burning was in a place that had prided itself in having little trouble.

They asked about the cuts on Sam’s face, and he easily explained that he’d fallen from his horse a few days back. The townfolk took that as a reason, never guessing that the legend Sam Gatlin would never fall from his mount.

When Sam mentioned he had to get back to his wife, all at once he was family. One old man even slapped him on the back and said it was about time he brought the little woman out. The store owner’s wife insisted on wrapping up food for them and even said if they would like, they were welcome to spend the night in their kitchen. After all, she said, they were neighbors.

Sam left the place bewildered. He’d never been more than a shadow in this town. Buying what he needed from time to time when he fixed up things. He’d never taken the time to talk to any of them more than to say hello. But they all seemed to know him. A part of him wished he could step into this life and be one of them.

Only, how would they react when they found out who he really was? They’d pull their children away when he walked down the street. They’d tell stories about what he’d done, as if he were the devil walking on earth.

The night was cool, but Sam hardly noticed. His thoughts were full of Sarah and how he’d let her down. He’d promised her a home, a place where she’d be safe. Now he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to give her either one of those things. He had the money to rebuild, but why? Someone would just burn it down again. Maybe a dream was meant to be just that, a dream.

He was surprised to see a light coming from his place as he turned the last bend in the road. Sarah had hung lanterns from the few poles left on the porch. There were also lanterns glowing from the barn loft.

He climbed down from his horse and stood in front of the house. Somehow, in the time he’d been gone, she’d swept the ashes away from the porch and along a path that led to the fireplace.

“Welcome home,” she said as she stepped out of the darkness between the two buildings. She’d put on her dress and combed her hair out.

“Not much of a home,” Sam answered as he handed her the bag of food. “But at least we’ve got something to eat.”

To his surprise he didn’t see the disappointment he’d expected in her eyes. She looked tired, and had a black smudge across her face, but she didn’t look like a woman about to bury her dream.

They walked in silence to the barn. While he turned his horse into the corral with hers, she set the food he’d brought on a table she’d made out of extra boards she must have found in his supply room in the back of the barn.

He had to give her credit: she hadn’t spent much time crying over her loss. She’d been busy since he’d been gone. One corner of the barn almost looked livable, with rough benches and their bedrolls spread on the hay.

Without thinking about it, he lifted his hand and rubbed the mark off her cheek. She curled into him, moving her face against his shirt, circling her arms about his waist.

When she lifted her face to him, he knew what she wanted. He’d told her she didn’t have to ask, she just had to move close to him. With an ache deep in his soul, he leaned down and touched her lips with his. The kiss was tender, filled with all the longings of what might have been.

When she broke the kiss, she whispered, “Supper’s ready.”

He couldn’t help but smile even though a part of him wanted to scream. She’d said the words as if she’d said them a thousand times.

They ate with him trying to figure out what to say to her.

“I’ll have to thank the store owner’s wife for sending this out. She’s not much of a cook, but her kindness was great.” Sarah didn’t seem to notice he hadn’t said a word. “I notice there are apple trees by the pond. I could make apple jelly next fall. It won’t cost much, mostly just for the sugar and jars. Who knows, maybe I could work out a trade at the general store.”

He moved to the loft window and watched moonlight flicker across his land.

“You said there were fish in the pond. If no one’s been fishing there, we should be able to live off of them and the game around here.”

“Stop it, Sarah,” he finally said. “We both know I let you down. We both know we can’t stay here.”

“Of course we can, Sam.” She dimmed the light. “We can live in the barn until we get the house rebuilt. I think I could even use the fireplace to cook one meal a day. The horses have plenty to eat.”

He could hear her getting ready for bed as though they had a bedroom or a bed to sleep in. How many nights? he asked himself. How many nights had she slept on the ground since they’d been married, and how many times had he told her of a home he had waiting for her? A home that was no more than ashes. Maybe it had been just boys having fun, but Sam would always wonder if one of the outlaws he’d sent to jail or killed their kin wasn’t trying to even the score.

“You’ll see, it won’t be that long until I can plant a garden.” Sarah pulled him back from his thoughts. “I’m really quite good at it, Sam. In time I’ll find some of the herbs Granny Vee used and transplant them from the wild to little window boxes so I can keep an eye on them and cut them at the right time.”

He looked over his shoulder, knowing he would have to make her understand. There could be no future for them. She’d be smart to take Sheriff Riley’s offer when he told her he’d call the whole marriage off since they knew she wasn’t a killer.

The sight before him made him forget what he’d been about to say. Sarah stood in the moonlight totally nude.

He turned slowly and envied the moonlight as it shone over his shoulder and caressed her body. Her hair tumbled past her waist, looking almost silver in the light. He’d always thought of her as small, but now he realized she was perfect. Her breasts were high and rounded to perfection just as he knew they would be. Her waist was small, her hips rounded.

He stopped and looked away. “Sarah, what do you think you are doing?”

I’m going to bed,“ she answered. ”Like you told me,“ she added.

Sam felt as if he would starve for the sight of her if he didn’t turn around. But this time the beauty before him was no less of a shock to his senses. “I never told you to take off your clothes.”

She laughed and took a step toward him. “Yes, you did. You said when I’m ready to be your wife in more than name only I should come to you without any clothes on.”

“But, Sarah, I promised you so much.”

“I know. I’m ready now.”

He smiled. “I mean I promised you a home and a place where you would be safe.”

She was only inches away from him. He could smell the honeysuckle aroma in the air.

“Make love to me,” she whispered as she closed the space between them.

Sam let his hands slide over her body as he leaned down and met her kiss. All sanity slipped away as his senses filled with Sarah. Her mouth was hungry, her body warm.

She pulled at his clothes, and he let her help him. He wanted to feel her skin against his as dearly as she seemed to need it. He unstrapped his gunbelt and let it hit the floor as he lifted her in his arms and walked toward the bedrolls.

He spread her out across the blankets and watched her stretch as she smiled up at him. For a moment he was afraid to touch her. How could such perfection be real?

Her small hands moved up and opened his shirt. When her fingers crossed over his heart, he was lost. Lowering slowly, he let his chest gently press against her. She moved in response, sending heat rushing through his veins.

Slowly, he reminded himself. Go slowly. But her body was warm with need as she begged for his touch.

He’d meant to make love to her with great care, but she opened her legs to him and he couldn’t pull away. He moved inside her as his body pressed her into the soft bed of hay.

She kissed him, pulling him to her with her arms. Slender chains he couldn’t have broken. Sam pushed deeper inside her, and without warning heaven exploded and all he could do was ride passion.

When he collapsed, he carefully twisted to his side so that she wouldn’t have to take the weight of him.

He was out of breath, shaking, sweating all over, and she was calmly watching him.

Sam buried his head in her hair. Where had he gotten the idea that he could be a lover? He thought about saying he was sorry, he’d thought only of himself and not her, but he remembered how she’d told him her first husband had used her, but always said he was sorry afterward.

“Sam?”

“Yes, love?” he answered.

“Is that all?”

TWENTY-NINE