Hostage Heart (20 page)

Nodding, she crawled to her knees as Matt ran past her. She heard him giving orders to the wranglers out on the porch. Within moments, the men had spread out across the yard to try and locate Ga’n.

She staggered to her feet and leaned weakly against the wall. Alchise lay in a pool of blood. Lark had seen only two other people shot—her father and Paco. Now, all of the grief and terror she associated with those shootings surged through her. She uttered a small cry and slid downward, her arms wrapped around her drawn-up legs, her brow pressed against her knees.

That’s the way Matt found her thirty minutes later when he returned to the house. Ga’n had escaped. After posting a guard to be changed every three hours, Matt ordered everyone except Boa Juan and Primo back to bed. As he stepped over Alchise to reach Lark, he gave orders to the two wranglers to take the body outside. Burial would have to wait until tomorrow morning.

The Colt dangled in Matt’s hand as he crouched wearily next to Lark, his heart wrenched with violent emotions. She could have been killed. She wasn’t safe here. Ga’n was after her now. His fingers trembling, Matt touched her tense shoulder.

“Lark, can you walk? Let me get you to the bed.” His voice was shaky, his senses screamingly acute. He felt her shudder.

With a soft curse, Matt rose. He holstered the Colt, jerked a quilt off the bed, and threw it around Lark’s shoulders, then lifted her into his arms.

Lark clung mutely to Matt, her eyes tightly shut. She was wildly aware of his strong, warm body, his familiar scent. When he placed her on the bed, she huddled against the headboard, knees locked tightly against her body.

Matt shut the bedroom door and grimly returned to her. She was in shock. Wouldn’t any woman be after such an ordeal? He moved across the bed and brought Lark, quilt and all, into his arms. She clung to him, her head buried beneath his jaw, her fingers flat against his chest.

“It’s going to be all right,” he soothed softly, stroking her unbound hair. “Just relax, Lark. It’s over…it’s over….”

“N-no,” she cried, her voice thin and wobbly. “It isn’t over! Ga’n said he was going to kidnap me.”

Matt’s eyes burned in the darkness. “What are you talking about? And how does Ga’n know you? Why would he attack you?”

The gentle stroke of his hand on her hair and shoulders began to dissolve her shock and terror. She tried to talk, but she wasn’t coherent, the words tumbling out in fragments. “M-my father saved Ga’n from death when I was five years old, Matt. Ga’n swore never to hurt us from that time on. Even though he went on to become a renegade, Ga’n always left us and our ranch alone. Oh, Matt, he came here a few hours before you first arrived at our ranch. He was hunting you! I didn’t know what he’d done to your family then, or I’d have shot him myself! I’m sorry…so sorry…”

Matt held her, rocked her, and soothed her with his deep voice. “It’s all right, Lark. I’m not angry with you. Hush, honey, everything’s going to be all right.”

“You don’t understand, Matt. Ga’n pledged never to hurt me. Why would he suddenly try to kidnap me? It doesn’t make sense!”

Grimly, Matt held her tear-filled gaze. “Maybe he knows I’m here.”

She sniffed and choked back the rest of the tears. “Then why didn’t he go to the bunkhouse? He knows I live alone in the main house.”

Matt nodded. “You’re right,” he muttered. He was becoming excruciatingly aware of other feelings, feelings he’d tried to deny since coming to the Gallagher Ranch. Lark was in his arms, soft and vulnerable. He felt the richness of her hair, smelled her fragrant scent, and took a deep, ragged breath. Burying his face against the lush thickness of her hair, he whispered hoarsely, “My God, you’re not safe here with Ga’n stalking you now, Lark.” He gripped her tightly to him, the words torn from him. “I need you. I can’t let anything happen to you.”

Lark slowly pushed away from his chest. She lifted her chin to look into his face. Her eyes widened as she realized he was suffering as much as she was. “Y-you need me?” The words came out faintly.

He nodded. “God help me, but I do,” and he caressed her cheek, choking on his words.

Lark sat there, trembling. The trauma of the gunfight and now Matt’s admission staggered her. His face looked ravaged, the eyes red-rimmed and filled with anguish. Matt needed her. Warmth, like the light of Holos, flowed through Lark.

Matt saw hope gather in her eyes and realized she was coming out of the shock. Gently he framed her face with his hands. “I don’t know what it is,” he admitted heavily, “but ever since I woke up here, you’ve been in my blood, Lark.”

Not understanding, she shook her head, aware of the callused warmth of his hands against her face. “But you’re leaving to chase down Ga’n.”

Groaning, Matt rested his brow against hers. “Not right now. I can’t leave you when I know he’s stalking you, too. He’s killed my family, and I’ll be damned if he’s going to take you, Lark. You’re a part of me. God help us both, but I can’t let you go.” Matt couldn’t stop the torrent of words. “I don’t know how it happened. Seeing Ga’n here in your bedroom and you his prisoner made me realize just how much you mean to me.”

Lark listened with her heart. Matt had not said he loved her, only that he needed her. But that was enough. Perhaps that’s what Ny-Oden had meant when he’d said love comes in many guises. Even need was a form of love, she thought. Reaching out, her fingers resting lightly on his arms, she asked, “Then you’ll stay here? With us?”

Matt drowned in the luster of her eyes, eyes filled with such incredible happiness that the sight stole the breath from him. Swallowing hard, he managed a shaky nod. “I’ll stay. I can catch him here as well as elsewhere.” He caressed Lark’s cheek. “Your life’s more important to me than Ga’n right now.” He smiled shakily. ‘“It damned near took losing you to get that through my thick head.”

Lark had been kissed only once in her life, but she knew that a kiss expressed what lay in one’s heart. She leaned up and inexpertly pressed her lips against the tortured line of Matt’s mouth.

He groaned and swept his arms around her, crushing her hard against him. She became like a willow in his embrace.

Matt tore his mouth away from her shy, questing lips. “God, no…” he groaned.

Her lips tingled from the brief contact. Already her nipples were growing taut beneath her cotton gown. She gently touched his cheek. “Did I hurt you? Was it wrong to share the feelings in my heart with you in that way?”

Matt gripped her arms. Lark knew nothing of the raging passions that were about to explode through his hard, aching body. She had almost been kidnapped earlier. Her innocent overture toward him was a result of the shock, he tried to tell himself. His voice was a harsh whisper. “No, you didn’t hurt me, Lark.”

She sat helplessly in his grip, staring at him, the planes of his face shadowed and harsh. Her heart was fluttering wildly in her chest and her breasts were taut with a peculiar ache. “I only wanted to show you how I feel,” she whispered lamely.

Fierce longing swept through Matt. Lark sat guilelessly before him, her black hair in sharp contrast to the pristine white of the cotton nightgown, the shapeless garment unable to hide the nipples that thrust against the fabric, taunting him. Her lips were parted, begging to be kissed. And her eyes…They were shining with unspoken invitation. Did she realize what she was doing to him? No, she couldn’t possibly know….

“Listen, golden cougar, I’m not in control of all my feelings right now. Your touch drives me to the edge. You’re so beautiful, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

Frowning, Lark tilted her head. “I don’t understand, Matt.” She touched the region of her heart. “Why is it wrong to share with you how I feel here? Even Apaches, when they tell their parents that they love one another, are allowed to hold hands or steal kisses. I don’t have parents anymore, or I would tell them of my desire to share my life with you.”

Words. Soft, pleading words from a child-woman. Matt stared long and hard at Lark’s upturned face, absorbing the yearning and commitment he read in her eyes. “Do you know what you’re asking?” he demanded harshly.

“I want us to share our hearts.”

“There’s more to it than holding hands or stealing a kiss, Lark.”

“I’ve listened to my heart, Matt. You are the only man for me. Unless you turn me away, I am yours. That is the Apache way. A woman is allowed to choose her warrior, unless he doesn’t want her as his mate for life. I—I know I don’t touch your mouth with much skill, but my heart is behind my actions—”

“Dear God in heaven,” he muttered.

“Your god won’t get you out of this. And neither will mine.””

A smile tipped the corners of his mouth. Matt gently cradled Lark’s face in his hands, drawing her lips to within inches of his own. “You’re a wildcat, do you know that?”

She pouted, refusing to be drawn into the sudden warmth he bestowed upon her.

“I could end up hurting you forever, Lark.”

“Hurting me?” Her voice wobbled. “To be around you yet denied your smile, to be refused your touch, hurts me much more deeply. When you kissed me, I ached inside. I went around feeling tied in knots. And since that kiss, you’ve ignored me, and my heart cries daily. Don’t you understand? I’d rather risk hurt than live with the unending pain I carry now.”

Matt shut his eyes tightly, unprepared for her honesty. Her love. And that was what it was. He opened his eyes. “Listen carefully, Lark,” he began, shaken. “Sharing hearts means sharing other things, too.”

“All right.”

He gave a slight groan. “It means sharing this bed together, sharing ourselves with one another. Are you prepared to do that?”

She nodded, lost in his burning gray eyes. “I have chosen you. I want no other man for the rest of my life. If you will have me?”

He saw so much in Lark’s expression. “I can’t give you an answer right now, Lark. A woman’s affections ought to be tied to a commitment, and I can’t give you one until I get Ga’n. I may be killed—”

“Then let us share the time we do have. Together.”

“I won’t marry you, Lark, and then leave you a widow a day, a week, or a month later. I stole Katie’s innocence and made her live a life that she considered hell. I won’t ruin your life that way, too.”

“By taking me to your bed, you will bind me to you forever in the eyes of the People. If I was widowed, I would not be considered spoiled goods. I want that day, week, or month with you. I pray to Us’an that you’ll be the victor so that I can share as many years as he will grant to us.”

Matt winced, holding her face gently in his hands. “Your Apache world is simple in the ways of love, Lark. The white world is more complicated.” He leaned down and kissed her lips lightly, chastely. “I want you to sleep on it, Lark. The decision you’re making will hurt you the most. People will talk. They’ll say you’re a fallen woman.”

“Only in the eyes of some. The Apache will understand.”

“I know that,” he said softly, gathering her into his arms one last time before he had to leave. “Come on, I want you to lie down and try to sleep. Some time tomorrow you will tell me what you’ve decided.”

Lark savored his embrace and then reluctantly slipped beneath the coverlet. With a sigh, she closed her eyes. “I will tell you tomorrow,” she whispered, her words slurred from exhaustion.

Matt pressed a kiss against her brow. Sweet God in heaven, what had he agreed to? He stood unmoving, stirred by Lark’s womanliness into painful wakefulness. Very soon, her breathing deepened. Forcing himself to leave her side, Matt knew sleep would evade him.

Questions plagued him. Why had Ga’n suddenly turned on Lark? Had someone ordered him to kidnap her, or was he acting for his own selfish purposes? He had to find the answers.

Lark awoke slowly, feeling as if she’d never slept so well in all her life. Rolling onto her back, she stared at the ceiling, remembering her conversation with Matt and the near kidnapping of the night before.

The fear that Matt might have changed his mind and left the ranch spurred her into action. Lark found Maria in the kitchen, preparing tortillas.

“Ah,
Patrona
. You are well this morning?”

“Yes. Have you seen Matt?”

Maria gestured toward the stockyards.
“Sí, Patrona
. He ate a hearty breakfast with the wranglers and then he left.”

Terror shot through Lark. “Left?”

“Sí
, he and Paco are over at the two-year-old colts’ pen. Señor Matt said he was going to begin breaking them out today.”

Lark stood openmouthed. “But—”

“He said to tell you not to worry. Come, eat breakfast.”

“He’ll reinjure his leg,” Lark said, ignoring Maria’s entreaty and hurrying down the hallway.

“Let him go.” Matt braced himself in the saddle as Paco released the blindfold around the eyes of the black colt Matt was riding.

Just as the colt squealed and humped his back, Matt caught sight of Lark running toward the corral. He concentrated on staying on the back of the enraged colt, which crow-hopped around the arena on stiff, unbending legs. One thing he’d found out a long time ago: two-year-olds were a hell of a lot easier to break than crafty four-or five-year-olds. Each time the colt came out of his buck, landing with all four feet on the ground, Matt felt the horse losing energy. Finally, after a few more halfhearted attempts to throw him, the colt allowed himself to be guided around the circular corral by the hackamore and reins.

Lark climbed up on the fence and hung over the edge, watching as Matt expertly worked with the black colt. Her fear and anger gave way to admiration. Matt had a skillful touch with the young horse. Paco came over, smiling broadly, his teeth stark white against his dark flesh.

“Patrona
, I think Señor Matt and I have found a way to be useful to the ranch even though we’re both injured.”

Lark frowned down at her foreman, whose left arm was in a sling. “I’m not so sure, Paco.”

“Eh? Already we’ve broke four colts this morning.”

“You have?” Lark’s eyebrows shot up.

“Sí
. I help Señor Matt saddle them, then I put a blindfold across their eyes and twist an ear while he gets in the saddle. It’s easy.”