Angel Creek (27 page)

He was bone tired, but he couldn't let a day go by without seeing her, whether she knew he was there or not. It was as much for himself as for her that he went into town that night. Every time he saw her he was convinced anew that he had done the right thing, the only thing that would protect her. He didn't delude himself that she would take it well when she found out what he'd done, but by God, he'd never again have to see her lying so deathly still.

This time, however, Olivia looked up with a smile when he entered. She held a finger to her lips and motioned him back out of the room, following him
and carefully closing the door behind her. “The fever broke,” she said, beaming. “She ate a little bit of soup, then went back to sleep.”

Relief washed through him like a flood. He was still exhausted, but he felt a hundred pounds lighter, as if lead weights had dropped from his shoulders. “Did she talk?”

“She asked for water, but if you mean did she carry on a conversation, the answer is no. She's still very sick, Lucas, and weak. She won't get over this in a couple of days. Dr. Pendergrass says it will be three or four weeks before she'll be strong enough to look after herself.”

He didn't even have to think about it. He knew exactly what he wanted. “I'm taking her to the Double C tomorrow.”

Olivia gaped at him. “You can't do that!”

“Yes, I can. It'll be quieter there than it is here, with people going in and out.”

“But she's a woman!”

He lifted his eyebrows at her. “Believe me, I noticed.”

“But that's why she can't stay with you.”

“She almost died. She's sure not in any shape for what you're thinking,” Lucas said bluntly, bringing a blush to Olivia's cheeks. “I'll take care of her, get her back on her feet. And I'm not asking permission, Olivia, I'm telling you what I'm going to do.”

Olivia took a deep breath and tried again. “You don't have any women out there on that ranch. Who's going to bathe her, change her clothes? I've already talked with Mother about taking her home with me. Surely you can see that she can't possibly go out to the
ranch.” Her voice softened. “She's my best friend, Lucas. I know how much she means to you. I'll take good care of her, I promise.”

He looked at her sharply. “Dee told me you two were friends, but—”

“Best friends,” Olivia repeated. “I feel a bit smug because I thought from the beginning that the two of you were perfectly suited for each other.”

Lucas cleared his throat. “I think I owe you an apology, Olivia. I know nothing was ever said between us, but I gave you and everyone else the impression that I intended—”

She put her hand on his sleeve. “No apology is needed. I like you very much as a friend, but I never wanted anything more. You didn't either, really. Besides, I'm very much in love with someone else.”

“Do tell.” He lifted his eyebrows. “Who's the lucky man?”

“Luis Fronteras.”

“Hell!” he said in surprise, then he apologized. “Sorry. He's doing all right, isn't he? I've had so much on my mind I haven't asked.”

“He's staying at Lindfor's Hotel now. He's almost recovered.”

He gave an approving nod; he couldn't fault Olivia's selection, even if Fronteras wasn't the type of man he'd ever thought would appeal to her. A hard look came into his eyes. “Some folks might have something to say about him, whether it's their business or not. I owe him a debt I won't ever be able to repay, so if you need my help in anything, all you have to do is get in touch.”

“Thank you, Lucas.” She rose up on tiptoe and
kissed his cheek. “I'll remember that. And I'll take good care of Dee for you.”

His face changed, his eyes glittering stubbornly. “I know you would, but I haven't changed my mind. I'm taking her with me.”

“You have to consider her reputation,” Olivia said in exasperation. “People will talk.”

His smile was chilling. “If they're smart, they won't.”

“Well, they will. You can't take care of her like that.”

Her reasoning gave him pause. He'd intended to do those intimate things for Dee himself, but letting the entire town know was something else. He adjusted his plans but didn't change his mind. “I know you'd take care of her, but I want her with me. I'll hire a woman to help. Sid Acray's oldest girl would be glad of the money.” Not only did he want Dee close by, but if she was at the ranch he could control who saw her. That way she wouldn't hear about what he'd done to Angel Creek from anyone else but him, when he decided it was a good time to tell her.

Olivia saw from the expression in those hard blue eyes that he wasn't going to be swayed. He wanted Dee Swann on the Double C, and that's where she'd be. Well, she had wished for Lucas and Dee to get together, and she had gotten her wish. Even with Sid Acray's daughter for a chaperon the townfolk would be scandalized if they didn't get married.

She gave him a stern look. “Do you plan on marrying her?”

“Just as soon as I can talk her around. But don't tell
her,” he cautioned. “Maybe I can surprise her into saying yes if she hasn't had time to think about it.”

They smiled at each other in perfect accord.

Lucas was back the next morning with a buckboard, the wagon bed padded with quilts. Etta Pendergrass was severely aggravated with her husband for not telling Lucas that Dee was too sick to be moved, but he refused to lie just because his wife was shocked by what she considered a scandalous idea. Dee was very ill, but she would recover just as fast at the Double C as she would in town. Besides, he wasn't fool enough to try to stop Lucas Cochran when he'd made up his mind to do something.

Dee was awake when Lucas entered the room, her eyes dull but aware. “Lucas,” she whispered.

He wanted to snatch her up and crush her to his chest, but she was so very frail that he restrained himself. Instead he picked up her hand and stroked her fingers. “I'm taking you home with me,” he said.

She nodded and managed a little smile. He wrapped her in one of the quilts he had brought and carried her out to the buckboard. A small knot of people gathered on the sidewalk, murmuring among themselves. The Acray girl, Betsy, climbed into the back to watch over Dee on the trip back to the ranch.

Doc Pendergrass, Etta, and Olivia followed him out. “Just make sure she eats and doesn't try to do too much too soon,” Doc told him. “She won't feel like getting out of bed for another week or so at least, but rest is the best thing for her.”

“Betsy will take good care of her,” Lucas said,
mindful of the people listening. He was filled with satisfaction. The circumstances weren't what he would have liked, and there were some bad storms ahead, but for now Dee would be right where he wanted her—under his roof.

He handled the buckboard carefully on the trip to the ranch, taking twice as long as it would to ride it on a horse, but he tried not to jostle Dee in case her shoulder was more painful than he realized. It was nerve-racking trying to see every rough spot in the road, listening for even a change in her breathing. When at last the ranch house came in sight he heaved a relieved sigh.

He reined in the horse at the porch and stepped over the seat into the wagon bed, going down on one knee beside Dee. “Run inside and turn back the covers on the bed,” he told Betsy. “Her bedroom is upstairs, the second door on the right.”

Betsy jumped down and scurried to do his bidding. She was only seventeen and thoroughly intimidated by Lucas, though he'd tried to put her at ease. But there was something about him that made some women nervous, so he put it out of his mind.

Dee was awake, though there was still that disturbing lack of expression in her eyes. It was as if she saw and understood but just couldn't muster the strength to care about anything. “Tell me if I hurt you,” he said as he slid her on the quilts to the edge of the wagon bed so he could lift her without jostling her any more than necessary. He jumped down and gathered her in his arms, holding her close against his chest. He had carried her before and knew how much lighter she was now. His heart gave a big thud as a remnant of fear
lashed him. The loss of blood had come so close to killing her that he didn't think he'd ever recover.

Betsy was standing beside the bed when he carried Dee in. He placed his precious burden down and unwrapped her from the quilt, then settled the covers over her. “Do you want anything to eat?” he asked. “Or to drink?”

“Water,” she said.

Lucas glanced at Betsy, who scurried to the water pitcher sitting nearby.

“Whatever you want, just tell Betsy,” he said, stroking her cheek. “Sleep as much as you want. All you have to do now is get well.”

He dropped his hand and turned to leave, but she said, “Lucas,” and he turned back.

“The cattle,” she whispered. “My garden—”

Even now she was worried about that damn garden! He controlled his spurt of anger to give her the assurance she needed. “They didn't get in it. You stampeded them all the way back to the Bar B.”

A slight smile spread over her colorless lips. Betsy brought the glass of water, and he moved so she could support Dee's head and let her sip. By the time Dee signaled that she had had enough and Betsy let her head rest on the pillow again Dee's eyes were closing with fatigue. Lucas quietly left the room.

He would have only a few weeks until she regained her strength and he'd have to tell her about the water. He meant to make the most of his period of grace to strengthen the bonds between them while he could. As soon as she was well enough to do without Betsy she would be all his.

*  *  *

It was the custom in the Millican family to spend the evening together after dinner, reading or sewing or just talking. Even when Olivia was a little girl she had been included in that intimate time, her parents always making her feel that her childish contributions to the conversation were as important as theirs. After losing their other children Wilson and Honora had doubly appreciated the preciousness of their daughter and had devoted themselves to making her life as perfect as they possibly could. The harmony of those after-dinner hours had always been a part of her life that Olivia loved, and she feared that she was about to ruin it. Luis had offered to be with her when she told them, but she had declined. If there was any unpleasantness, she didn't want him to hear it. It was ridiculous to protect him, but part of her reasoning was based on diplomacy. It would be easier for him to get along with her parents at a later date if there weren't any memories of harsh words between them.

Strangely enough, there didn't seem to be any gossip. Honora and Beatrice had both been discreet about her behavior when she had learned Luis had been hurt. Etta and Dr. Pendergrass had evidently not said anything either about the way she had flown to Luis's bedside. Olivia almost wished there
had
been gossip so she wouldn't have to introduce the subject so abruptly.

There didn't seem to be any other way to do it, however, so she took a deep breath and said, “Mother, Papa, I have something to tell you.” Her mother turned to look at her expectantly, and Wilson put his paper down. “I've fallen in love, and I'm going to be married.”

Their eyes rounded with surprise, then Honora clapped her hands and jumped up. “That's wonderful,” she cried, laughing excitedly. “I just
knew
Mr. Cochran would propose, though I did wonder when—”

“Mother, no,” Olivia interrupted. “It isn't Lucas.”

Both their faces had been wreathed in smiles, but now their expressions went blank with surprise. “Not Lucas?” Wilson asked with a perplexed frown. “But he's the only one who's been courting you, except for Bellamy, and of course you'd never have anything to do with him. Everyone in town thought—”

“Everyone but the two people involved,” Olivia replied gently. “Lucas is a friend, but we've never been in love.”

“But if it isn't Mr. Cochran, then who is it?” Honora recovered from her surprise and was fairly quivering with curiosity.

“Luis Fronteras.”

Again their faces went blank. Honora sank into her chair. “Who?” she asked in bewilderment. The name was familiar, but she couldn't place it. And it sounded . . . foreign.

“Luis Fronteras. He worked for Mr. Bellamy. He's the man who helped Dee until the Double C men could get there.”

“A gunman?” Wilson was incredulous. “You say you're going to marry a Mexican gunman? Olivia, that's ridiculous. Why, you don't even know him.”

“A Mexican!” Honora's eyes rounded with shock.

“On the contrary, I know him well.” Olivia met their gazes. “I've been riding with him every Sunday. And I love him.”

Wilson folded his paper and tossed it aside. “That's impossible. You have absolutely nothing in common with a man like that. Why, he'll never settle down and provide you with a home.”

“Perhaps where I live won't be like this,” Olivia admitted. “But this isn't an impulsive decision. I've thought about it for a couple of months. I could marry a man who could give me a big house and a lot of clothes, but I wouldn't be one tenth as happy with him as I would be in a tent with Luis. I want to have a family with him, and I trust him to take care of me and our children. What does it matter if he isn't rich?”

“You'll find it matters a great deal when you have to do without.” Wilson shook his head. “We've always done our best to shelter you, so you don't have any real idea of the kind of life you're proposing to lead. Darling, you deserve much more than he can give you. You couldn't survive.”

“Of course I can. Don't you see, he
loves
me. And I love him. That's what I need, what I've always wanted more than anything else. Not to marry a rich man, but to marry a man I love.”