WM02 - Texas Princess (13 page)

Tobin opened his mouth to argue but then thought better of it, knowing it would be a waste of time. “How can we help? If you want a doctor, we can ride until we nd one.

Maybe Austin.”

“I could leave her here and go over and get one. Two, maybe three, days I’d be back, depending on how much the doc protests,” Wes offered.

“There’s been enough kidnapping,” she said. “But I don’t know if I can stand the pain of the ride without doing something. Wes is right, I think, wrapping it might help. I can’t stay here. Samuel would nd me before you could get back with a doctor. He seems to want to marry me so badly he’s wil ing to kil the bride.”

Tobin walked to his saddlebag and pul ed out his new shirt. Without hesitation, he ripped it into strips and handed them to Liberty. “Can you do this yourself?”

“No,” she answered. “I don’t think I can.” She looked at rst one man and then the other. “Hold out your hands.”

“What?” they said at the same time.

Liberty frowned and repeated. “Hold out your hands.”

Both men did. Tobin’s were rough and cal oused, but clean. Wes’s looked like they hadn’t been washed in weeks.

Liberty frowned up at Tobin. “You’re elected. You’l help me.”

He nodded. He wasn’t sure he would know what to do, but he didn’t especial y want Wes’s hands touching her. If Libby had an idea he’d try to help. “What should I do?”

Liberty studied the trees. “Fol ow me. If we do this, we do it in private.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she ordered, “Get my boots down by the creek, wil you, Ranger? I left them there yesterday and I’l need them when I get back.”

Wes looked relieved at only having to fetch boots. “I’l stand guard.”

Tobin walked beside her as they moved into the trees. He let her set the pace amazed that she hadn’t complained last night. The princess was far stronger then he’d thought.

chapter 11

Y

The morning sun offered some warmth, but as

soon as they moved into the shadows of the cottonwoods along the creek Tobin felt the chil . Liberty said she needed to make sure they were alone while he wrapped her ribs, but they could have asked Wes to turn around. At least then they’d be in the warmth and light.

Tobin fol owed her across the dead leaves, guessing Liberty also worried about someone riding into the clearing before he nished. She reminded him of a wounded animal wanting to stay in the shadows until she was strong enough to ght.

Glancing at her stockinged feet he realized he should have noticed she had no shoes last night. As a kidnapper, he must be somewhere close to the bottom of the bucket. It seemed a stroke of luck that she’d left her boots here yesterday when the storm started. Or, for al he knew, she had boots and shoes abandoned everywhere in her world.

He tried not to think about how he planned to beat the captain to a bloody pulp for what he’d done to Liberty. He’d spent his life avoiding ghts. He would make the time for this one. When he got through with Samuel Buchanan, his face would look far worse than Liberty’s did now.

She would probably be frightened if she knew how dark his thoughts were, but Tobin had never seen anyone hurt a woman. He’d heard of it, of course. Travis, during his days as a ranger, had arrested several men who’d hurt or kil ed women. His brother told him once that a few of the rangers down near the Big Bend country got together and tied an outlaw up the same way he’d tied a rancher’s wife he’d robbed. The outlaw had left her to almost starve. Only when the rangers left the outlaw, he was nude and tied across a sixfoot red-ant bed.

At the time, Tobin thought the rangers cruel. Now he understood. A man who hurts a woman deserves the pain returned in spades.

“Have a seat, doctor,” Liberty interrupted his plotting. “We’ve work to do, though I’m not sure what.” Her light mood was forced.

“Neither am I.” He sat on a stump the height of a chair. “The only things I’ve ever doctored are horses. Maybe you should have brought Wes after al ?”

“Just pretend I’m a horse.” She didn’t laugh. “You can be no worse than that leather-clad mud man out there. Wes must work to stay that dirty.” She pushed between his knees and handed him the strips of cotton he’d made. “This has to be done and you are the only one to do it.”

Tobin smiled. She might be pampered and beautiful, but she had a bit of her father in her. “General” was a better nickname than “princess” right now.

“First,” she said as she began unbuttoning her shirt, “you have to tel me if you think I’ve got a broken rib. I don’t think so, but if you do, we’re on our way to Austin.”

He nodded. He could take her to Travis and Rainey’s place a few blocks from the capitol. It wouldn’t be as safe as the ranch, but it would do if they had to stay somewhere and nd a doctor.

As Liberty pul ed open her shirt, he saw the white lace of her camisole. She tugged it from her riding trousers and lifted the material up to reveal her middle.

Tobin tried to swal ow. The ful ness of her breasts was clearly visible, and the top of the undergarment lacked an inch being decent, he thought, but he didn’t plan on complaining about it. She looked better than any painting of a woman hanging over any bar he’d ever seen.

Except for a dark bruise the size of a man’s st that lay just below where she’d bunched up the material, her esh was white, almost porcelain, making the mark appear even darker.

Liberty moved closer resting one hand on his shoulder for balance. “Wel , feel it. Is a rib broken? It hurts like the devil.”

Tobin swal owed and placed his hand gently over the mark.

She inched.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and brushed her undamaged skin gently with his other hand.

“I’l try to be careful. Tel me if you feel a sharp pain.”

Liberty nodded for him to continue. He saw the forced control in her eyes and the paleness of her cheeks.

“You’re not going to faint on me, Libby?”

She shook her head, but he wasn’t sure wil ing it so could stop her from passing out.

He gently spread his other hand out across her back to brace her just in case.

One rib at a time Tobin felt along her skin examining each bone. His other hand, holding her stil , prepared to catch her if she fainted. When he reached the last rib exposed, he felt the bottom of her breast brush along his ngertips as he moved across the rib.

Her skin was so soft. So perfect. He couldn’t resist moving his ngers down the middle to where the waistband of her riding pants stopped his progress.

“Are you nished?” Her breath came quickly.

He pul ed his hand away. “Yes.”

“And?”

“I couldn’t feel a broken bone and your breathing doesn’t seem to be hampered. I think we’re just dealing with a bruise.”

“Good. I’m glad that’s al
we
are dealing with. Would you mind wrapping me?”

He picked up the strips. She lifted her arms, stil holding the camisole tightly in place.

She was so close he could have leaned forward slightly and tasted her warm esh.

And he might have done it if it weren’t for the fact that she’d made it plain she wanted no more of his advances. What had she said after the kiss? Something about forgetting it ever happened. Or maybe she’d just thought it and he’d been the one who said it. So much had happened in the few hours since their kiss, Tobin couldn’t remember exactly who said what.

He couldn’t resist taking extra care as he smoothed the cotton strip around her.

“Tighter,” she ordered. “It wil feel better if it’s tighter.”

He fol owed orders aware that her ngers gripped his shoulder as he worked. He was hurting her, he could feel it, but she didn’t make a sound. When he circled the dressing around her back, she leaned forward and the side of one of her breasts brushed against his cheek.

“Sorry,” she whispered as she moved away.

His hands stopped. He looked up into her beautiful eyes. Even with one surrounded with dark and swol en esh, he could stil see the re in her stormy gaze. He wished he could think of something light to say, but he couldn’t. The soft pressure of her breast had branded him and he knew that somewhere, sometime he’d have his l of it. He didn’t bother to try to hide his need as he stared.

She must have understood, for her breathing quickened, making her rib cage move lightly beneath his touch.

Now was not the time, he knew. Not when she was hurting and frightened. But there had been something between them from the beginning, and one day they’d both have to deal with it.

“Done,” he said as he straightened. “That should help.”

She let the camisole fal over the binding, then crumbled into his lap. For a moment she seemed to want to let her guard down and not be the brave little general. He understood and offered what he knew she needed, comfort.

Tobin held her gently, rocking her back and forth as he had his little sister when she’d been hurt as a kid. “It’s al right, Liberty. It wil be better tomorrow.”

She buried her head in his throat and gulped down silent sobs.

He kissed the top of her head. “Go ahead and cry. You’re safe now. No one is ever going to hurt you again.”

Brushing strands of her hair away from her face, he wished he could hold her tighter and make her believe that she real y was safe. She’d been broken when he’d found her last night, too terried to talk. But she was rebuilding, strengthening, and he wanted her to know that he’d be there when she needed him.

After a few minutes, she raised her head. “I’m ready. Don’t tel anyone I cried. It never happened.”

Tobin nodded slowly.

They stood. He watched her button her shirt; then she turned and walked ahead of him to the edge of the trees.

Wes stood just beyond the shade of the cottonwoods with his back to them.

“Someone’s coming,” he mumbled. “Don’t come out til we know who it is.”

Tobin pul ed her back a few feet and they waited. After a moment, he heard the sound of two horses coming up fast.

Wes walked a few more feet into the open and lifted his rie. He knew his duty. He was the rst line. Anyone coming to harm Liberty would have to leave him dead rst.

Two horses broke through to the clearing from the south side.

“Dermot,” Tobin whispered, the moment he saw the old man leaning low over his horse as if he could barely hang on to the animal.

“You recognize them?” Wes whispered.

“I know the rst one. The old man is the one I sent to ask you to meet me.”

Wes squinted, then nodded. “It was dark, but I remember the make of him. He’d be the only one who knew you were here for I told no one.”

Dermot motioned to the other rider to slow and they turned their horses toward Wes.

“That’s far enough,” the ranger shouted. “State your business, Mr. Dermot.”

The old man slowly climbed from his mount, but the second rider, covered in a black cape, stayed back.

“Ranger, I need to speak with Tobin McMurray and I wouldna be riding out here if it weren’t urgent.” He limped toward Wes. “I been praying al the way that he’d stil be about.”

Wes wasn’t giving any information away. “What’s your business with him?”

Dermot looked around. He might be old, but he was no fool. He knew the ranger wouldn’t even be bothering to talk to him if Tobin and Liberty were already away. “Got a lass here who claims ’tis a matter of life and death that she talks to him.”

“Tel her to step down. I’l talk to her.”

Dermot shook his head. “She says she’l talk to none but Tobin or Miss Liberty.”

Tobin looked past Dermot to the woman with him. The hood of her cape had slipped back enough that he could see red hair. Stel a.

When he started to move forward, Liberty stopped him. “She told Samuel about our kiss. That’s what made him so mad last night.” She leaned close. “I don’t trust her, Tobin.”

“Neither do I,” he answered. “But let’s hear what she has to say. If she talked Dermot into bringing her, she already suspects more than I’m comfortable with her knowing.”

Nodding, Liberty whispered what they were both thinking. “She’s not to know where we’re headed.”

He tightened his grip slightly over Liberty’s hand. A pact formed. They walked out of the shadows. Wes frowned when he saw them. Dermot looked relieved.

“What is it, Stel a?” Liberty asked without greeting.

103

The maid scrambled down from her mount and rushed toward them, fal ing on her knees in front of Liberty. “I’m so sorry, Miss Liberty.” She locked her hands and raised them as if begging for her life. “I didn’t know he was going to hurt you. I swear I didn’t. I just told him what I saw because I thought he wasn’t paying you any attention. I didn’t think he’d hit you.” She looked up at Liberty. “Oh, my Lord. Look at your face. This is al my fault. Al my...”

She let out a cry as though she’d been stabbed and continued, “He was so nice, sweet real y, when he thanked me for pointing out that he’d been neglecting you. I never thought he’d hurt you. Not you, Miss Liberty. I’m so sorry.”

“Stop,” Wes ordered. “Enough chatter. My ears are starting to hurt.”

Stel a looked at the ranger as if he were simply being rude and not addressing her.

She added in a whisper, “When Anna told me she saw a bit of your face and thought you were hurt, I almost died. I could never live with myself if my actions brought you sorrow. I’d have gladly taken the pain and not you. I wish I were dead.”

Liberty patted the girl’s shoulder. “You didn’t know what he was capable of. Neither did I.”

Tobin noticed, though her gesture seemed caring, Lib-erty’s eyes were as cold as the morning breeze. Part of her didn’t believe the maid any more than he did.

Stel a wasn’t nished wailing. “I should kil myself for having been any part of hurting you. I want to die for it. I just want to lie down and die in a puddle of mud. I wish I were dead. Oh, God please let me—”

Wes lifted his rie. “I can make it happen, miss. One bul et to the brain. You’l hardly feel a thing.”

Stel a’s eyes widened in panic and she shut up.

Dermot nal y got a word in. “She told me she’d kil herself if I didna bring her out here.” He lifted his palms to Liberty. “What was I to do?”