Lorraine Heath (13 page)

“Remember your promise,” she pleaded softly.

His promise? He’d made so many of late. To find the man who murdered Boyd. To love Loree, honor, and cherish her …

To never touch her if he was thinking of Becky.

Groaning, he rolled off her and draped his arm over his eyes, his body aching with need and desires that would go unfulfilled. He felt the stiffness of her body as she lay beside him. She hadn’t moved—not a finger, not a toe. He wasn’t even certain if she was still breathing.

He peered out from beneath his arm and watched a solitary tear escape from her tightly closed eyes and trail toward her ear. Anger, sadness, guilt swamped him.

He swung his legs off the bed, sat up, and rubbed his hands up and down his face. Then he stood, jerked his hat off the bedpost, and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I need some fresh air.” He yanked open the door, stopped, and looked over his shoulder at the woman who was now sitting up in the bed, her face a mask of anguish. “I wasn’t thinking of her, Loree,” he said, his voice low. “But I’m not going to make that announcement every time I touch you. You’re gonna have to learn to trust me to keep my promises.” He forced his tense body not to slam the door in his wake.

He strode from the hotel. The sultry summer night wrapped around him, offering no comfort. His boot heels echoed over the boardwalk. He stepped off the planks and allowed the dirt to muffle his passing.

He came to an abrupt halt in front of the general store. He saw a pale light glowing within a window upstairs. He wondered where the boy slept. He wondered where Becky and Cameron held each other through the night.

He started walking again, toward the far end of town. He heard the tinny sound of an off-key piano wafting out of the saloon. A bottle of whiskey appealed to him, but he’d never enjoyed drinking alone.

And the drinking companion of his youth was probably making passionate love to Becky right about now. He went to the livery, saddled Black Thunder, and rode into the night, trying to escape the invisible prison that surrounded his heart.

He felt the terror that had engulfed him when they’d put him in solitary confinement. The loneliness had been absolute, frightening. Just as it was now. Loving Becky had been so easy. They had never argued, she had never questioned.

But as he rode, it wasn’t Becky who haunted his thoughts. It was Loree with golden eyes that didn’t quite trust him and a heart that might never be his.

H
olding his hat in a tight fist, Austin leaned against the beam of Dallas’s veranda and watched as dawn brought the majestic colors to the day. He remembered a time when he’d celebrated dawn with his violin. Now, more often than not, he welcomed it with a curse.

The front door opened. Dallas stepped beneath the archway and stumbled to a stop when his gaze rammed into Austin’s. Austin shoved himself away from the beam. “I’m here to grovel. I’ve got a wife, a baby on the way, and no way to support them. Cameron is probably the only one in town who’d hire me, but I can’t see me stacking cans and sweeping floors.” He swallowed hard. “But I’ll do it if I have to.”

“Good morning to you, too,” Dallas said, a corner of his mouth lifting his mustache.

Austin slumped against the beam. “Needed to spit out what I came to say before I lost the nerve to do it.”

Dallas gave a slow nod as he walked to the edge of the veranda. The morning sun hit his bruised face.

“How’s your jaw?” Austin asked.

“Sore. You knocked a damn tooth loose.”

Austin flinched. “Sorry.”

“I deserved it, and it was less painful than the dressing down my wife gave me last night.” Dallas settled his black broad-brimmed Stetson on his head and stepped off the veranda. “I was just coming to look for you. Since you saved me the trouble of finding you, why don’t you take a ride with me?”

Austin knew his brother well enough to know he never asked. Even words that sounded like a question were an order. Austin swung up into the saddle as Dallas mounted the horse his foreman brought him. Then as he had for most of his life, he followed the trail his brother blazed.

They rode in silence for long moments, the plains opening up before them. Austin had never appreciated the wide expanse of land as his brother did. Until recently, towns had appealed to him, the constant movement of people going places, the rumble of wagon wheels, the clop of horses’ hooves.

“I never knew what your dreams were,” Dallas said, his deep voice rumbling over the prairie, “but I figured they’d take you beyond this place. You always looked toward the horizon like maybe you’d inherited Pa’s wandering streak.”

“I thought about leaving more than once, but when I finally did, I sure as hell didn’t go where I wanted to go.”

“So you’re figuring to make this place your home?” Dallas asked.

“I’d like to, but it depends on Loree. Her family was murdered a few years back and she’s been living alone ever since. I thought she’d find it easier living here where she could get used to having people around—and I wanted to get her away from the memories.”

“Sounds like I stepped knee-deep into a fool’s pasture yesterday. I owe you an apology for that.”

Austin had always known his brother was a big man, but he’d never seemed bigger than he did at this moment. Austin’s throat tightened. “I realize now that I should have sent a telegram—”

“Might have made things a little easier on Loree. A wife and baby tie a man down whether he wants to be tied down or not.”

“I accepted that before I ever asked Loree to marry me. She deserves better than the life I can give her.”

Dallas looked off into the distance. “Dee taught me the only thing that matters is what you give her from your heart.”

“My heart’s not entirely free.”

Dallas pierced him with a darkening gaze. “Then I’d say you wronged her pretty damn bad.”

“You’ll get no argument from me on that, but I aim to make it up to her.”

Dallas gave him a long slow nod. “Well, this spread is getting too big for one man to handle. Reckon I could use some help.”

“Same pay as before?”

A corner of Dallas’s mouth lifted up, carrying the end of his mustache with it. “Those were a boy’s wages.” He rubbed the bruise on his jaw. “As you so tactfully pointed out to me yesterday, it’s time I realized you were a man. Let’s head back to the house, and we’ll settle the particulars.”

Loree stood on the boardwalk outside the hotel. The town had grown. She never would have recognized it if it weren’t for the hotel. As they’d ridden in last night, the massive silhouette of the building had loomed before them, throwing her back in time to a night five years before.

“Why this town?” she whispered beneath her breath. As vast as West Texas was, why couldn’t Austin have settled somewhere else?

Fate had a cruel streak running through her. No doubt about that.

The town hadn’t possessed a sign when she’d been here before. She hadn’t known its name. She hadn’t cared. But it proudly bore a sign on the outskirts now: Leighton.

Named for her husband’s family. Why had Fate chosen to bring a man to her door who lived in the one place she had never again wanted to see?

But more, she wondered if Fate would be kind enough to bring the man back to her?

He hadn’t returned to the hotel room last night, and she wondered where he was, if he’d abandoned her. She wished she’d kept her insecurities to herself. What did it matter if he thought of someone else as long as he held her?

Stupid, stupid girl! she chastised herself. She had known by the pain reflected in his gaze that she’d hurt him to the core. She wanted to trust him, but life had taught her to value caution. And because of life’s lessons, she knew she needed a gun.

She strolled along the boardwalk, her stomach quivering as people skirted past her. The men touched their fingers to the brim of their hats, some even smiled at her, but she refused to look any of them in the eye.

She was grateful when she saw the sign for Oliver’s General Store. She slipped inside, cringing when the cowbell above the door announced her arrival.

A woman standing behind the counter looked up and smiled warmly. “Hello. Can I help you?”

Loree wiped her damp palms on her skirt. “I’d just like to look around.”

“Let me know if I can help you with anything.”

Loree nodded her appreciation of the offer and strolled down the nearest aisle. Toys of all shapes and sizes greeted her. She hadn’t seen many children in the town, but she’d noticed the red schoolhouse near the hotel. She supposed her child would attend school there. She and Austin might purchase toys here. Or would he carve the toys himself?

She picked up a wooden rattle. Did her husband whittle? What hidden talents did he possess? The sparse knowledge she possessed grew frustrating with each passing day. She supposed it should be enough that she didn’t fear him and that he was for the most part considerate of her.

Yet she couldn’t help but feel that he held a part of himself back. She wondered if he’d always been distant with people or if prison had reshaped him.

How could it have not reshaped him?

Her heart picked up its tempo, beating unsteadily with the thought of iron bars and brick walls and guards. How had he survived five years without freedom? She knew it would very likely have killed her.

Carefully, she placed the rattle back onto the shelf. She’d have to find out if he planned to make one before she purchased it. And she’d have to find out if they had the means for her to purchase it. She needed the little money she possessed for something more important.

She walked to the counter. The woman stopped dusting the shelves behind the counter and turned. Her burnished hair was pulled back into a stylish bun. The color reminded Loree of the locks she’d discovered in Austin’s saddlebags. The woman had eyes the blue of a summer sky.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” she asked in a soft voice.

Loree tightened her fingers around her reticule. “I was looking for a small gun, something like a derringer.”

The woman’s delicate brow furrowed. “We don’t carry guns anymore, not since the gunsmith came to town. You’ll find his shop—”

“Becky!”

Loree’s heart felt as though an iron fist had just clamped around it. How many Beckies could reside in this town? How many with hair the shade of autumn leaves?

A tall man stormed through the curtain behind the counter. With his hand he combed his blond hair off his brow. “I just saw Austin.”

“He’s back?”

“Yep, and it’s the dangdest thing. He got married.”

Loree watched the blood drain from Becky’s face, and she hoped her own feelings weren’t as visible.

“Married? Who in the world did he marry?” she whispered, her voice achingly low. Then as though just remembering she had a customer, she blinked several times and returned her attention to Loree. “I’m sorry. You wanted the gunsmith. You’ll find him at the end of Main Street, near the saloon. I know Mr. Wesson will be able to help you.” She turned back to the man. “Cameron, did he tell you about his wife?”

Loree didn’t want to hear the answer. She hurried out of the general store. Once outside, she slumped against the front of the building. The woman inside the store was beautiful. How in the world could she expect Austin not to think of that woman when his wife was incredibly plain?

Then she remembered what the man had said. He’d just seen Austin. She hurried along the boardwalk, back to the hotel. She rushed inside and up the stairs, bursting through the door to their room.

Austin stood near the bed, stuffing her clothes into her suitcase on the bed. He jerked back, his brow deeply furrowed. “Where have you been?”

She closed the door more quietly than she’d opened it and eased into the room. “I needed something. I went to the general store.”

He reached across the bed, grabbed her nightgown, and shoved it into the bag. “We’re going back to Dallas’s.”

“I met a woman at the general store. A Becky.”

He stiffened. Her heart pounded so hard that she was sure he heard it. “Is she your Becky?”

“No, she is not
my
Becky,” he replied through a clenched jaw. He grabbed her hairbrush from the bedside table and threw it into the bag.

“Was
she your Becky?” she asked, unable to let it go for reasons she couldn’t understand.

With one rapid-fire movement, he sent her bag and everything in it crashing to the floor. She stumbled back. She’d never seen him truly angry and wondered if she’d pushed him too far.

He dropped onto the bed, planted his elbows on his thighs, leaned forward, and buried his face in his hands. She heard his harsh breathing, saw the tenseness in his shoulders. He held out a hand. “Come here.”

But her feet remained rooted to the spot. She knew nothing about how he acted in anger. If he gave as much of himself to anger as he did to passion …

He looked up, the torment in his eyes deepening as he met her gaze. “Come here, Loree. Please.”

The anguish in his voice had her walking toward him, seeking to comfort him for the painful memories her constant badgering brought him. As she neared, he reached out, clamped his hand on her waist, and brought her to stand between his thighs.

He took a deep shuddering breath, staring at a button on her bodice. “Yes, she
was
my Becky.” He tilted his head back, his deep blue gaze capturing hers. “But she’s not anymore, and she never will be again.”

He pressed a kiss to her slightly rounded stomach, to the place where their child grew. “I need you, Loree,” he rasped.

She wrapped her arms around him, pressing his head against her belly. How could the woman have not waited for Austin? With demons haunting her and no family, the past five years had been an eternity, but at least she’d had the stars at night, the sunrise at dawn, and the freedom to walk wherever she wanted. “I hate her because she hurt you,” she said, her voice seething.

“She doesn’t deserve your hate.”

“She doesn’t deserve your loyalty or your love.”

He tipped his head back, meeting her gaze. “Five years is a long time.”

“I would have waited,” she said, surprised by the conviction in her voice, more surprised to realize the words were true. If she were fortunate enough to possess his love, she’d wait forever.

A corner of his mouth quirked up and he brushed the stray strands of her hair behind her ear. “You know, I do believe you would have.”

“I hate that she hurt you.”

“And I hate that I’ve hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me on purpose. I know that.”

“But I don’t imagine it lessened the pain.”

No, the pain had been sharp, agonizing but she was tired of letting the wound fester. She needed to lance it, clean it, and let it heal.

“She’s very pretty,” she admitted reluctantly.

He smiled broadly. “She is that.”

He tugged her down until she sat on his lap. He cradled her cheek. “But then so are you.”

She shoved his hand away and averted her gaze, the heat flaming her face. “No, I’m not. I’m uglier than the back end of a mule.”

When he didn’t jump to her defense, she dared to peer at him. Narrowing his eyes, he scrutinized her features. “Don’t go staring at me.”

“How else am I gonna find the ugly?”

“It’s there for the whole world to see.”

“Where?”

She pursed her lips. “My nose for one thing. The end tips up like a broken twig.”

“And here I thought it looked like a petal unfurling.”

His eyes grew warm, a touch of humor twinkling in the centers.

“And my lips. I don’t hardly have a top lip and my bottom lip looks swollen like a bee stung it.”

“It reminds me of a plump, ripe strawberry just waiting to be tasted.”

She felt the heat suffuse her face as his eyes darkened.

“My hair,” she said in a rush, desperate to convince him of her flaws. “It’s got no color.”

He took her braid and carried the end to his lips. “I always thought it looked like it had been woven from moonbeams. Reckon that’s why I stole some of it.”

She furrowed her brow. “What?”

He leaned back slightly, dug his hand into his pocket, and brought out several locks of her hair, tied together with a dainty ribbon.

“When did you do that?”

“That first night I slept with you, after you’d fallen asleep.”

Tears stung her eyes as she pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh, Austin. You must like me some to carry my hair around.”

“I like you more than some, Loree. I wouldn’t have married you otherwise.”