Authors: Elizabeth Lowell
“If he lives,” Hunter said, “I should hang the son of a bitch.”
Elyssa opened her mouth but could find no words to equal the icy rage in Hunter’s eyes. The appalled sound she made brought his attention back to her.
“I won’t see a man hanged for rustling,” Elyssa said.
“Neither would I,” Hunter said flatly. “But Mac tried to kill you three times that I know of.”
“What?” she asked, shaken.
“He used that longhorn bull, and a landslide, and then took aim with a gun the night he salted your garden.”
“Mac?” Elyssa asked in a strained voice. “He hated me that much? But why? What did I ever do to him?”
“It wasn’t you he hated,” Bill said. “It was Gloria.”
“What do you mean?” Elyssa asked.
“Mac and John were partners until Gloria came along,” Bill said. “Mac never forgave her for changing things.”
“What does that have to do with me?” Elyssa whispered.
“You look so much like her, sometimes—” Bill hesitated and said simply, “Sometimes it’s like being cut with a knife.”
Elyssa shook her head, not wanting to believe that Mac had hated her enough to kill her.
“
Sassy.
”
At first Elyssa thought she had imagined the whisper. Then it came again.
“
Sassy.
”
Slowly she turned toward the corner where Mac lay dying.
Hunter reached the cot before Elyssa did. His hard arm barred her from coming within Mac’s reach.
“I’m here, Mac,” Elyssa said.
“Where?” he whispered. “Can’t see.”
Elyssa stepped around Hunter’s arm and took Mac’s hand.
“Right here,” she said softly.
Mac’s eyes focused on her.
“You know—my brand,” he said painfully.
“The Slash River?” she asked.
“Give it—to you.” He took a sharp breath. “Sorry.”
“Don’t talk,” Elyssa said. “Save your strength for getting well.”
Something close to a smile crossed Mac’s face, shifting the line of his gray-streaked beard. When he spoke, his voice was stronger, as though he was drawing on a last reserve of strength.
“I’m dying, Sassy.”
Elyssa caught her breath and squeezed Mac’s hand gently.
“Damned whoring Culpeppers,” Mac said, his voice hoarse and laced with contempt. “Just had to have a female. Stole a Ute gal.”
Elyssa’s eyelids flinched.
“Fools,” Mac said. “Told ’em so. Then I—went to the marsh.”
Mac drew several shallow breaths. Each one told of
the pain that was consuming him as deeply and finally as death.
“It was you,” Hunter said. “You shot Gaylord before he could shoot Elyssa.”
Slowly Mac glanced to Hunter and then back to Elyssa again, focusing on her clothing.
“Looked like a man,” Mac said painfully. “Fought like one. Bravest thing—ever saw. Couldn’t let them—kill you. Ab figured it was me. Gutshot me—so I’d die—slow—hard.”
Mac’s breath came out with a long, unraveling sound. The hand Elyssa was holding went limp.
Tears she couldn’t stop fell down her cheeks and dropped onto Mac’s hand.
Mac didn’t feel it. He was finally beyond feeling anything at all.
In a way Elyssa almost envied him, for she knew her greatest pain was yet to come.
When Hunter realized what had happened, he drew the blanket over Mac’s face and turned to Elyssa.
“Don’t cry, honey,” Hunter said roughly. “He isn’t worth your tears.”
“I’m not crying only for him,” she whispered. “I’m crying for all of it, the pain and anger and betrayal of the past. What a tangled, bitter legacy.”
For a moment Hunter was silent. Elyssa sensed he was remembering his own past, his own betrayal, his own bitter legacy of pain and rage.
That was the most savage part of Elyssa’s pain. She could touch her own past, cry for it, even heal from it in time…but she could not touch Hunter’s past. She could not heal him.
She could only lose him.
No, that’s not quite true
, Elyssa told herself with painful honesty.
I can’t lose what I never had.
Hunter never gave himself to me. He simply took what
I offered. And in return, he gave me pleasure.
Not his heart. Not his trust. Certainly not his love.
Just pleasure.
When Elyssa looked at Hunter again, her eyes were as empty as her heart.
“What did Case say about the mule tracks he followed?” Elyssa asked.
Hunter paused, surprised by the distance and lack of emotion in her voice. She was different in a way he couldn’t describe, but he recognized it.
Being through a war changes you
, Hunter reminded himself.
Finding out that your trust has been betrayed changes you, too.
It sure as hell changed me.
Yet watching it change Elyssa was unexpectedly painful to Hunter. He would have given a great deal to replace the shadows in her eyes with the light of laughter and passion.
“Ab Culpepper is headed for the Spanish Bottoms,” Hunter said finally.
“Then you and Case will be leaving soon.”
Before Hunter could say anything, Bill did.
“Hunter isn’t going one step off the Ladder S until he marries you,” Bill said bluntly.
Startled, Elyssa turned toward Bill.
“I beg your pardon?” she asked.
“You heard me,” Bill retorted. “From what Penny told me—and from what I can see with my own two eyes—it’s past time a preacher came to the Ladder S.”
“To marry you and Penny, yes,” Elyssa said.
“It will be a double wedding,” Bill said.
“There is no need.”
“The hell you say,” Bill shot back. “You and Hunter—”
“I’m not pregnant,” Elyssa interrupted.
Hunter made an odd sound.
“You’re certain?” he asked.
“Quite.”
“The fact that he’s asking,” Bill said, “means it will be a double wedding. I’ll see to it personally.”
“No,” Elyssa said.
“Sassy—” Bill began, exasperated.
“No,” she repeated. “I won’t.”
“Why?” Hunter asked bluntly. “You know we’re good together.”
Elyssa turned to Hunter, confronting him and all that she hadn’t lost, because it had never been given to her in the first place.
“A husband’s first loyalty should be to his wife,” Elyssa said neutrally. “Yours is to your dead children. And to Case.”
Hunter lifted his hand as though to touch Elyssa, or to ward off a blow.
Or both.
“
I want you
,” he said. “I can make you want me.”
“Wanting isn’t enough for marriage.”
Hunter didn’t disagree. Belinda had taught him that with cruel thoroughness.
“Marriage requires trust,” Elyssa said, “for without trust, love isn’t possible. You haven’t trusted a woman since Belinda. I don’t really blame you. Being badly burned teaches you not to trust fire.”
Hunter looked away. He couldn’t endure what he saw in Elyssa’s eyes.
Then he wished he could stop listening as well, for what Elyssa was saying was more painful than what lay in her eyes. Her voice was an aching combination of exhaustion and understanding and regret that tore at him.
“I thought I could change your mind, or your heart,” Elyssa said. “I was wrong. There is no room for the future in your mind and heart. Only the past.”
From the upstairs came the sound of Case calling for his brother.
“Hunter? If you’re still dead set on hunting Culpeppers with me, the horses are ready and the trail is getting cold.”
Hunter stiffened. He looked at Elyssa and saw that she already knew he was leaving.
“Elyssa,” he said hoarsely.
“Go ahead,” she whispered. “There’s nothing to keep you here. We were lovers. Just lovers.”
Still Hunter hesitated, feeling as though he had lost something before he could even name it. In a haunted silence he searched Elyssa’s eyes for what had once been there.
Just lovers.
Pain stabbed through Hunter as deeply as passion once had, as deeply as ecstasy, slicing all the way to his soul.
“Hunter?” Case called. “Where are you?”
“Good-bye, my autumn lover,” Elyssa whispered. “I’ll remember you each year when leaves turn to fire.”
Hunter simply stared at her, unable to speak.
“Please excuse me,” Elyssa said. “I haven’t had any sleep worth mentioning in days.”
Quickly she went to the stairs. When she emerged into the kitchen, Case turned toward her.
“Have you seen—” he began.
The look on Elyssa’s face stopped Case cold. She went by him as though he wasn’t there. He watched her go up to the second floor. The sound of a door closing came back down through the silence.
Hunter strode out of the cellar into the kitchen.
“What are you standing around for?” Hunter snarled. “The trail is getting cold.”
Case whistled soundlessly through his teeth.
“Have you said all your good-byes?” Case asked.
“Yes.”
“Then you’re a damned fool. That’s a fine woman you’re leaving behind.”
Hunter bared his teeth.
“Woman?” Hunter repeated sardonically. “She’s a girl who doesn’t know her own mind from one hour to the next.”
Just lovers.
“Horseshit,” Case said matter-of-factly. “She’s a woman grieving for her man.”
“She’ll get over her tears.”
“Sassy wasn’t crying. She was grieving. If you don’t know the difference, go upstairs and look at her face.”
Hunter closed his eyes. They opened an instant later, cold and gray as the winter that follows autumn.
“Damn you, Case,” Hunter said through clenched teeth. “Let it go.”
“Just as soon as you do and not one moment before. If you take on Ab Culpepper the way you are now, we’ll both be dead by first snowfall. So tell me again, brother. Why are you leaving the woman who loves you?”
“
She said we were just lovers.
”
Case’s left eyebrow lifted in a black, skeptical arch. “Was that before or after you told her you loved her?” Case asked.
“I never said any such thing.”
“Well, that explains it,” Case said agreeably, turning away. “I’m going out to talk to my horse. Its butt has more sense than you do.”
Hunter glared after his brother, but even anger couldn’t keep him from remembering Elyssa speaking of love.
And his own silence answering her.
Or even worse, his words.
Weren’t you listening to me? Did I ever talk about anything but lust between us?
Elyssa had finally listened to him. Now she, too, was talking only about lust.
Just lovers.
Motionless, Hunter confronted what he had done to her, what she had described to him so calmly.
There is no room for the future in your mind and heart. Only the past.
Autumn lover. I’ll remember you each year when leaves turn to fire.
For a time there was only silence in the house. Then Hunter turned and strode up the stairs to the second floor. With every step, he told himself that Case was wrong.
He had to be.
Otherwise it didn’t bear thinking about.
Hunter reached the door to Elyssa’s bedroom and hesitated, not knowing what to say.
Silence grew around Hunter. No sound came through the door. The quiet was unnerving. It was as though the room beyond was utterly empty.
Hunter knocked.
No one answered.
When Hunter’s third knock was ignored, he tried the door. It opened soundlessly.
Elyssa was sitting on the bed in a room whose only illumination came from the rifle slits in the shutter. Her back was to the door and her arms were wrapped around herself as though to hold warmth inside.
Slowly Hunter walked to the bed. Elyssa neither turned nor spoke when the floor creaked beneath his weight. Hunter hesitated, then walked around the bed until he could see Elyssa’s face.
His breath came in hard and stayed until it ached.
Elyssa no longer looked like a girl. Anguish lined her face, drained color from her skin, took life from her eyes, made her whole body rigid. Motionless, barely
breathing, she simply endured each breath as it came, and with it the agony of being alive.
Case had been right. Elyssa was a woman grieving for the loss of the man she loved.
With a throttled sound of pain, Hunter sank onto the bed next to Elyssa. He lifted her onto his lap and stroked her face with fingers that trembled.
“It wasn’t you I didn’t trust,” Hunter said in a raw voice. “It was me. I chose wrong and my children paid.”
A shudder went through Elyssa. She turned and focused on Hunter. The anguish in her eyes made him flinch.
“Then I saw you,” Hunter said in a low voice. “I wanted you until it hurt to breathe.”
“Wanting isn’t—”
“Enough,” Hunter interrupted. “Yes. I know that as well as you do. Better. Belinda taught me.”
Elyssa closed her eyes, unable to bear the memories in Hunter’s.
“Then you taught me something far more important,” Hunter said. “Love.”
“Just—” Elyssa’s voice broke.
“Just love,” Hunter said softly. “Your love for me. My love for you. The love we will have for our children.”
“Hunter—” Her voice broke again.
“I love you, Elyssa.”
Hunter said it again as he kissed her, then he said it again and again.
The truth of Hunter’s love swept over Elyssa like sunrise. With a broken sound she turned to him. Crying, laughing, Elyssa whispered her own love against Hunter’s lips and heard her words returned.
Then they simply held one another, healing each other, leaving the past behind.
H
unter and Elyssa stood next to Case in front of the ranch house and watched the preacher ride off toward Fort Halleck. Bill and the new Mrs. Moreland had already left for the B Bar, anxious to celebrate their own honeymoon.
The yard of the Ladder S was sunstruck and wild with autumn wind. Case’s horse stood with ears pricked and head high. He tugged eagerly at the reins, wanting to be as free as the wind.
“I’ll come by again as soon as Ab is taken care of,” Case said quietly.
Elyssa flinched. She was haunted by what Hunter had said only last week.
I can’t let my brother go against Ab Culpepper alone.
But Hunter was doing just that.
A husband’s first loyalty should be to his wife.
To Elyssa, who was now Hunter’s wife.
Tears stood in her eyes as she turned toward Case.
“Let the past go,” Elyssa said huskily. “Please. Make your home here with us.”
With a gentleness that still surprised Elyssa in a man whose eyes were so bleak, Case put one hand against her cheek.
“Don’t cry, Sassy,” Case said. “Hunter knows where his future is.”
“It could be yours, too,” Elyssa said.
Case’s thumb stole tears from Elyssa eyelashes. Then he turned and mounted his horse with the lithe rush of a cat leaping.
“Name your first boy after me,” Case said.
“Done,” Hunter said quietly. “Send word if you need me.”
Case nodded. Then he reined his horse around and headed southeast, toward the Spanish Bottoms.
“Wait!” Elyssa called.
Hunter put his arms around Elyssa and held her close.
“It won’t work, honey,” he said.
“But—”
“Case believes he doesn’t have anything else to live for except hunting down Ted and Emily’s killers,” Hunter said heavily.
Elyssa knew Hunter was right. She also knew the truth hurt him more than it did her.
“Would it—” Her voice broke.
Elyssa took a breath and forced the words past lips that wanted to remain silent.
“Would it be easier on you if you went with him?” she asked painfully.
Hunter’s eyes closed. He knew what the words cost Elyssa.
He knew, because they cost him just as much.
“
I love you
,” he said roughly, lifting her in his arms.
“Hunter?” Elyssa whispered.
“Case said if I went with him, it would be over his dead body. He meant it. You’re stuck with me, honey.”
Case William Maxwell was born the following year, when autumn turned the aspen leaves to fire. Like his father, the boy grew tall and lithe, with unflinching eyes.
Like his mother, the boy had a deep feeling for the land and a gentle way with even the roughest horses.
There were other babies, too. Girls with wit and great determination. Boys with power and gentleness. Like their parents, the children thrived in the wild country at the foot of the Ruby Mountains.
At the end of the day, whether the hot winds of summer blew across the Ladder S or the wild storms of winter wrapped around the house, Hunter pulled his wife close, finding peace with her.
And each night Elyssa fell asleep with her autumn lover in her arms, knowing that all the seasons of love were theirs.