Lone Star Lover (13 page)

But there was more than a senseless death eating at her. She’d made a difficult decision a few minutes ago. Tonight she would tell Jake about her past. All of it, the slaying of her family, the five years she’d lived with the Comanche, she’d even tell him about her husband. The idea that she had to form the words and let them spill from her lips made her queasy again.

She was so confused about Jake at this point, she couldn’t imagine how he would react to her admission. One minute he was cozying up to Captain Wade, and the next he was defending her at the cost of angering the captain. Jake Malone surely was the most unusual man she’d ever met, not that she’d met many. White men, anyway. But even Kitty agreed that Jake was different and unexpected, and heaven only knew how many men Kitty had known in her life. Poor Kitty. So kind and brave in many ways. How had she ended up in Diablo Flats? Why wouldn’t she leave this horrible place?

Rebecca drew in a deep calming breath. She had her own problems to worry about. Even if she denied it aloud, she knew in her heart that she held onto a small hope that Jake would help her escape. Particularly when he kept befuddling her with his acts of nobility.

She spotted Kitty sitting at the bar drinking a glass of whiskey, and felt a measure of relief, until she noticed that Captain Wade sat beside her friend. Rebecca wanted to change direction, run for the safety of her room, but Jake walked beside her, his hand cupping her elbow as he steered them toward Kitty and the captain.

Almost as if her fear had willed him to seek her out, Captain Wade turned his head and watched them approach. He had the most unreadable face of any creature she’d ever met, even when he drank, though she’d never seen him drunk like some of the other Rangers. He reminded her of a snake that waited patiently and struck when a person least expected it.

“Any idea when Doc Davis will return?” Jake asked, leaning against the bar. He’d moved his hand from her elbow to the small of her back, which should have helped her feel protected, but only made her more nervous.

“Why?” Captain Wade snickered. “Sounds like Otis needs an undertaker, not a doctor.”

“Jesus, Wade, show some respect,” Kitty said, and then looked away and downed the rest of her whiskey when the captain glanced at her.

“Just stating a fact, darlin’.” The captain’s mouth curved slightly as he sipped from the foaming glass of beer.

“Too bad you never got him to talk first,” Jake said, then shook his head at the offer of a whiskey.

One of the other Rangers sitting at the bar overheard and leaned toward them, his breath stinking with the odor of stale tobacco and cheap spirits. “Why? What would he have to say that we’d want to hear?”

Rebecca tried to step away, revulsion clogging her throat at the man’s nearness. His face was so close to hers that it was hard not to be rude and openly cringe.

Jake kept his hand at her back and moved with her, putting some distance between her and the Ranger, whom he peered at as if the man were daft. “Gee, I don’t know, maybe some information on the rustlers or who’s behind the vigilante hangings.”

The Ranger cursed violently, glaring at Jake with bloodshot eyes, his fingers tightening into a fist.

“Enough.” Captain Wade put up a hand, gave Jake an impatient look, and then eyed the other Ranger. “Time you turned in, Vernon. Sleep off that whiskey. We got a long day tomorrow.”

“What?” The look of shocked betrayal slid to anger on the Ranger’s face and made Rebecca take another step back.

This time Jake didn’t move with her. He stayed where he was between Captain Wade and the other Ranger. She understood that for him to have backed up would have shown weakness, but the knowledge didn’t stop her insides from fluttering like leaves in the wind.

“And you need to shut up,” Captain Wade said to Jake. “No good will come of us fighting amongst ourselves.”

“You including him with us?” Vernon’s face flushed an angry red and he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Jake.

“Look…” Jake’s smile was slow and purposeful. “Vernon, right? You’re pissed. I don’t blame you. I shouldn’t have shot off my mouth.” He stuck out his hand. “No hard feelings?”

Vernon blinked at Jake’s outstretched hand. He muttered a curse, picked his hat up off the bar and left.

The captain chuckled. “You’re just full of surprises, ain’t you, Malone?”

Jake shrugged. “I didn’t mean to stir up the pot. But I’m not looking to make friends either. I was just saying…this Otis fella could’ve been useful.”

Captain Wade grunted, his gaze going to Rebecca. “You, get out of here.”

She stiffened, and as she picked up her skirt and turned, she met Jake’s eyes. He gave her a small encouraging nod and glanced toward the stairs.

“You, too, Kitty. Get.” The captain patted Kitty’s fanny, and then laughed when Kitty glared at him.

She grabbed the half-full bottle of whiskey off the bar, and took it with her. Rebecca braced herself for the captain’s reaction, but he said nothing as she and Kitty walked toward the back of the saloon.

“Stupid bastard,” Kitty muttered.

Rebecca stared at her, never having seen Kitty in such a dark mood, or heard her say anything bad about the captain. “Are you going upstairs?”

“No, to the kitchen. I’m betting Cook could use a drink. He knew Otis from way back.” They paused by the piano. “You go on upstairs. I doubt anyone will bother you tonight, and I’m betting Jake will be up shortly.” Kitty started to go, and then whispered close to Rebecca’s ear. “Tell him I haven’t said a word about his suspicions about Otis being murdered, and I think he’s right.”

Rebecca watched her disappear down the short hall, and tried to shake the feeling of being watched herself. She glanced over her shoulder and scanned the room. No one seemed to be paying her any mind. Not even Jake. His attention was focused on what the captain was telling him. He looked particularly solemn as he listened, and she got a chill thinking about what she herself had to admit to him later.

For a moment she considered it could wait until morning, but that wouldn’t be fair to him. If he kissed her again…She pressed her lips together, ashamed at how much she wanted another kiss, how much she wanted his hands on her. Her husband had been in the ground for only a year. A decent woman would still be in mourning.

Swallowing painfully, she gathered her skirt in one hand and reached for the railing with the other. Before her foot hit the first step, she sensed someone behind her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Corbin rushing from the hall. He yanked her backward, his fingers pinching into the tender flesh of her nape.

She let out a shriek that was smothered by the shrill notes of the piano. Corbin grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the narrow hall. She kicked at him, clawed at him, struggled to wrench her arm free, but his grip was too tight.

“Where’s your boyfriend now?” he asked, his fetid breath slithering across her cheek. “Better not be giving it away, you ungrateful bitch.”

She dared to look at him, and saw a wildness in his bleary eyes that terrified her. Three deep scratches slashed his cheek. Had she done that? Surely, he’d kill her. She opened her mouth to scream, but before she uttered a sound, a fist shot out and connected with Corbin’s jaw.

He staggered backward, releasing her as he tried to regain his balance. Jake threw another punch that sent Corbin to the floor with a loud thud. He pushed up on one elbow, groaned when he couldn’t get up and then fell back onto the hardwood floor.

He spat out some blood, and then fixed his evil glare on Jake. “Fine,” Corbin said, “Go have your Indian whore.”

Oh, God. The earth seemed to move beneath her feet, and her head felt so light, so wrong. It hurt where the Ranger had dug his filthy fingers into the side of her neck. God forgive her but she wished he were dead.

Jake touched her lower back. “Are you okay?”

She couldn’t look at him. Why was he still being kind? Tears threatened, but she wouldn’t cry. Not in front of Corbin. The pig. How she longed to spit in his face. If she did, maybe he would leap up and slit her throat, and it would all be over. The agony of the past weeks since the Rangers captured her would end.

“Rebecca?” Jake tried to catch her chin, but she jerked away from him.

Corbin laughed, the hacking sound echoing across the suddenly silent saloon. “Look at that, he still wants you. Must be one of them Indian lovers. Ain’t you the lucky whore?”

Jake moved so quickly she didn’t realize what had happened until she saw his boot pressed into Corbin’s chest. He started hacking again, his coughs so violent blood spewed from his mouth.

“I’m gonna tell you one more time, Corbin, to shut the hell up. After that, I won’t be so nice.” Jake eased his boot off the Ranger’s chest. “Are we clear?”

“Jesus Christ, Malone.” Captain Wade shoved aside two card players who’d stood to watch the fight. He frowned down at Corbin. “What the fuck is going on?”

Corbin turned his head to the side and spit out more blood.

The captain shook his head. It wasn’t hard to read him now. His face was darker than thunderclouds as he eyed Jake. “You’re starting to make me nervous, Malone, and I don’t like feeling nervous. What the hell happened?”

Jake wearily rubbed the back of his neck, watching as the captain gave Corbin a hand up.

The Ranger staggered as he got to his feet, the fury in his eyes aimed at Jake. “This goddamn Indian lover—” Corbin cut himself off, clearly remembering that he was breaking the rules.

Another small piece of Rebecca’s heart broke off and shattered. What did it matter what Corbin said now? Enough of the men heard what he’d said earlier. By now most of them knew she’d been bedded by an Indian. By the end of the night, they would all know. But she only cared that one did, and Jake was showing no reaction, other than the hatred that burned in his eyes for Corbin.

He must have seen it, too. The Ranger wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, at the same time, circling around Jake and the captain, his angry gaze darting between the two men. One of the card players picked his hat up off the floor and passed it to him. He snatched it with a muttered curse, and left the saloon.

Captain Wade poked a finger in Jake’s face. “I don’t need trouble.”

Jake’s gaze narrowed on the captain’s finger, and then he slowly moved it away. “What did you expect?” he asked in a low controlled voice. “Did you think your men were going to welcome me with open arms?”

The captain hooked his thumbs in his gun belt, his steely gaze fixed on Jake.

“They don’t know me,” Jake continued. “They don’t like me and they don’t trust me. There are gonna be scrapes. It’ll be up to me to keep my cool.”

Captain Wade barked out a harsh laugh. “By laying them out on the floor?”

Unexpectedly, one side of Jake’s mouth lifted. “Yeah, well, shit happens.”

Even more unexpected, Captain Wade looked as if he wanted to smile. But he didn’t. His jaw jutting out, he studied Jake for a moment. “You let pussy get in the way of business, that makes you a goddamn fool. I don’t need fools working for me.”

“I hear you.”

Captain Wade slid a brief look at Rebecca where she’d shrunk back into the corner. “Get out of my sight,” he told Jake. “Now.” The Ranger turned toward the back, and yelled for Kitty.

With his eyes and chin, Jake motioned for Rebecca to ascend the stairs. She quickly obeyed, horribly afraid her wobbly legs wouldn’t carry her the entire way to her room. But Jake was right behind her, guiding her with his hand, ignoring the stares that followed them. When they got to her door, she turned to thank him for the escort, loath to meet the disappointment she was sure to find in his eyes. But he startled her by opening the door, urging her inside and following her.

She quickly lit the lantern, the click of the door closing behind him stealing her breath. Didn’t he understand that he could no longer be with her? Even if nothing happened, the closed door would surely feed rumors. The men downstairs would talk…they’d shun him for knowingly taking an Indian whore…

“Are you all right?” He gently took her by the shoulders, his anxious gaze roaming her face. This was no longer the Jake who’d stood up to Captain Wade.

“Yes,” she whispered, scarcely able to find her voice. “You have to go.”

“Why?” With his fingers, he gently probed the tender skin Corbin had dug into. “You’re going to bruise. I should’ve killed the bastard,” he murmured, so low, she almost didn’t hear.

“Jake?”

He put his arms around her and held her against his chest. “You’re safe now. I promise.”

“Don’t you understand?” She didn’t, not what was happening now. Had he been so angry that he hadn’t heard what Corbin said? It didn’t matter. Everyone else knew.

“I’m so sorry. That was my fault.” He leaned back to look at her. “I thought you’d be safe to go as far as the stairs with Kitty. Please forgive me, Rebecca.”

“Oh, Jake, I’m fine.” She felt the tears fill her eyes, and she quickly laid her cheek against his chest so he wouldn’t see her crying. He’d think she was hurt when she wasn’t. She wasn’t sure what she felt right now, humbled, grateful, frightened. Her insides were a jumbled mess like a ball of yarn that had been strewn across the room by a mischievous cat and tangled so badly she couldn’t unravel it.

He lapsed into silence for several nerve-racking moments. “I’m also sorry for what happened to you,” he said, his voice strained.

She froze, blinking hard, willing the tears to stop before he tried to look at her. “It’ll be only a small bruise,” she said, knowing in her heart that wasn’t what he meant.

“Not that. What happened to you before.” His tone was gentle, not in the least condemning. “Tell me about it.”

She tensed, and pulled away, but he caught her hand. That’s when he saw she’d been crying. He used his thumb to wipe the moisture from her cheeks, his expression so grim she wanted to start crying all over again.

“I was going to tell you tonight,” she said brokenly. “You deserved to know.”

“Deserve?” He frowned. “I don’t know about that, but I’ll listen to anything you
want
to tell me. Anything that isn’t too painful for you to relive.” He tugged at her hand and drew her to the bed, helping her to sit at the edge as if she were a fragile porcelain doll.

She had no choice. That he was still willing to touch her, his face full of tenderness and concern, made her so weak she’d crumble if she didn’t sit.

He pushed his fingers through her hair, combing through the tangles, and then arranged the long messy curls over her shoulder, away from her face. She almost wished he hadn’t, because now she felt too exposed. But he gave her an encouraging smile, and all her defenses seemed to melt.

“Talk to me,” he said in a low voice, husky with emotion.

She moistened her dry lips, summoning her courage and preparing herself. Once he heard the words from her own mouth, he might not be so understanding. “It happened five years ago,” she said slowly, searching his face for loathing, now that he knew it hadn’t been for a week or a month or even a year since she’d been removed from white society.

He said nothing, simply waited patiently, his eyes now neutral, while he continued stroking the back of her hand.

“My parents and brother and I were traveling from Fort Belknap.” She stopped, unprepared for the stab of a painful memory from the night they were attacked. The screams, the flames, the smell of fear and desperation…the shrill cries of the warriors as they threw their heads back in victory.

Jake frowned. “On your own?”

“We’d started out with a wagon train from the Kansas railyard, but Father said it would be faster if we—” She stared down at her lap, knowing now, years later, that the tragedy could have been avoided if not for her father’s stubbornness. But to put a voice to the knowledge would make her a traitor to his memory. “We were warned it could be bad.”

He nodded without judgment. “How old were you?”

She sighed. “We were celebrating my nineteenth birthday that night.”

“Ah, Rebecca.” He leaned over and pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry.”

“My brother had turned thirteen two days before,” she whispered. “Father had given Seth our grandfather’s rifle as a birthday present. Mother was worried about him learning how to shoot.” Her voice cracked as the irony hit her.

Jake drew back, his eyes concerned. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t remember very much. Not about that night. It all happened so fast. There were a dozen Comanche or more. Before coming West, we’d lived in Philadelphia. Father was a lawyer. He seldom used a gun. He was no match for—” She covered her face, unable to go on.

“Shh, it’s all right.” He gathered her in his arms and held her tight. “It’s all right.”

“No, you don’t understand.” She broke free, her face feeling hot and flushed. “I lived with them, ate with them, slept with them. I had no choice.” That wasn’t true. She’d had many chances to kill herself, but she’d been a coward.

“Of course you had no choice. You survived. That’s all that matters.”

She sadly shook her head and lowered her gaze. “A decent woman would not have endured such shame.”

He brought her chin back up, and looking genuinely puzzled, said, “What shame? You were a captive.”

“I heard the women from the wagon train whisper while they washed the supper dishes. They all vowed to never be taken alive by Indians. They said the decent thing for a woman to do was to…release herself.”

“I don’t pretend to understand your customs,” he said slowly, distracting her for a second because it was such an odd thing for him to say. “But that’s plain wrong.”

“No, I heard them, but I was too afraid. I had many chances, but I—”

“Listen to me.” He wouldn’t let her hide, but framed her face with his hands and looked her square in the eyes. “Unless you’re threatened with death, taking a life, even your own, is never the right thing to do. You did exactly what you were supposed to do. You stayed alive.”

“But—”

He lightly drew his thumb across her lower lip, cutting her off. “Believe me, I can’t say I wouldn’t put a bullet between any man’s eyes for hurting you. But that wouldn’t be justice, it would be vengeance, and I’d like to think I’m better than that.” He smiled faintly. “Don’t get me wrong. I’ve done things in my life I regret, things that I never dreamed I would consciously do. No one knows how they’ll react until they’re actually in a situation. I bet not one of those women you heard talking would actually take her own life. And certainly not a God-fearing woman.”

Oh, how she wanted to believe him. She’d told herself the same thing many times, but it hadn’t helped. “They weren’t all bad,” she said slowly, studying his reaction, preparing herself for his revulsion. “The Comanche who I lived with.”

Relief relaxed his jaw, softened his mouth, and made her want to weep. “I’m glad,” he said, placing a light kiss on her cheek. “That’s something.” He had more questions. She could see them smoldering in the dark blue depths of his eyes.

But he didn’t ask. Instead he moved his hands from her face to comb back her hair, and then brushed his lips to hers, a gentle featherlike touch that told her more than his words. He didn’t blame her. The knowledge gave her courage.

“The braves who attacked our camp knew there was a company of soldiers from Fort Belknap patrolling the area so they didn’t linger. They took our horses and milk cow and the only three rifles Father owned, a few of Mother’s trinkets and then threw me over the back of a horse. I was lucky in that we rode quickly…” She hoped he caught her meaning, and added, “With no stops until we got to their village.”

His eyebrows went up slightly, and then he nodded. She hoped he understood that she hadn’t been brutalized, at least not in the way most white people assumed, but with Jake it was difficult to tell. He’d shown none of the reactions of loathing and horror she’d suffered from the Rangers. His sympathy for her was earnest and heartwarming.

“Once we arrived, Running Bear, one of the war chief’s sons immediately claimed me. I was terrified, bloodied and badly bruised. His mother took pity on me and kept me with her until I healed. I honestly don’t remember much of that, only what I was told later.”

“I have to admit, I know only a little about the history of the Comanche people,” Jake said. “I have a friend who’s half Comanche but—” He smiled suddenly. “That explanation is for later.”

She couldn’t wait for later. A white man who had a Comanche friend? Not unheard of, she supposed, but rare. Even when her family had stopped at the Fort, she’d heard nothing but unkind remarks about the Indians. “Your friend is a scout?”