Cherished (37 page)

“Your ... horse?” The seed of hope that had
bloomed magically inside her only a moment before withered and died
a swift death. Her eyes were wide with dismay, and she felt as if
she were choking. “Your horse,” she repeated dazedly, humiliation
burning into her cheeks.

“I mean ...” Cole found himself stammering
like a schoolboy. Confound her and those mesmerizing eyes anyway!
“I mean that I couldn’t leave Arrow saddled and lathered up and out
in the middle of a storm somewhere, could I? And I can’t leave you,
I reckon, until this McCray business is cleared up.” He was pleased
with his comparison; it made perfect sense to him. “I’m beginning
to see that I’d better stick around and help your brothers deal
with this—and then make sure Breen doesn’t bother you anymore. If
your brothers venture all the way to Denver, someone’s likely to
lock them up. I’ll have to go with them.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“The man suckered me into something that
wasn’t any of my business by offering that sky-high bounty on you.
Now I’m making it my business to set things to rights.” It sounded
convincing enough. Hell, it almost convinced him that that was all
there was to it. He’d take care of McCray and Breen and then he
would leave. Ride out of her life for good. He’d be able to do it,
Cole told himself, when he knew there were no more threats hanging
over her head—and when he was certain those brothers of hers would
give up their outlaw life and look after her the way she
deserved.

“That’s most kind of you.” Juliana stepped
back from him, then turned and walked toward the stove. Warmth
still emanated from it, seeping out into the rough corners of the
cabin. She realized she was shivering. The mountain air was cool,
biting right through the silk of the dress. Or maybe it was her
heart that was cold, she thought dully—cold and dead.

She had given Cole Rawdon every opportunity
to tell her he loved her, even that he cared about her, and he had
only admitted that he felt responsible for her—in the same way he
felt responsible for his horse. The hurt of it flared inside her
like pricking needles. She had thrown herself into his arms, she
had practically thrown herself at his feet, and he had calmly told
her she meant nothing more to him than his damned horse.

Fine, then. She had been wrong, wrong about
everything between them. Her woman’s instinct had betrayed her
after all. He loved her not.

“Of course, my brothers and I will pay you
for whatever work you do on our behalf. I have money in my pouch—”
She broke off. “I left it at the cabin.”

“I’ll bring it here tomorrow.”

“You’re going there, to the cabin? Now?
Alone?”

Despite himself, he grinned in the darkness.
“I’m a big boy, angel. I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“How much money do you want—for helping
me?”

Inwardly, he groaned.
Nothing
, he
wanted to shout as he recognized the hurt expression on her face,
and realized how hard she was trying to appear detached. He had
hurt her, even though he’d never meant to do it. He wanted to
enfold her in his arms and kiss her until neither of them could
breathe, until she could never again mistake exactly how he felt.
But he knew now what he had to do—convince her that this was just
business, that he was doing a job for ‘pay,’ discharging a
responsibility that would also line his pockets, and then maybe
she’d forget about him and stop whatever foolish daydreams he had
encouraged her to begin. Maybe she’d look to a man who could give
her the steady, safe life she needed, the children and home she
wanted. He couldn’t. It wasn’t in the cards for him. His fate was a
life of solitude and danger, a rider of the plains and mountains,
hunter of men—dealing out and being dealt trouble.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me.” Her voice was
trembling, but her face was rigid in the moonlight bathing it. “I
asked you how much money you want to help me.”

Cole forced the words from his mouth.

“How much do you have?”

“About forty dollars—but I’m sure Wade and
Tommy have more.”

“Fine.” He took a deep breath, hating
himself. But it was for her, he was doing it for her. “One hundred
dollars strikes me as fair.”

“Oh, yes,” she murmured faintly. “Quite
fair.”

She took a step forward and clutched the back
of a chair for support as he stalked once more to the door.

Business. This was only business for him—just
as it had always been. How could she have been so stupid?

Her knees shook. Her hands felt limp and cold
against the rough wood. As Cole opened the door, his large figure
disappearing into the darkness outside, she heard him say casually
over his shoulder, “Good night, boss lady.”

Then he was gone, and she was alone in the
cabin, shaking like an autumn leaf caught in the bitter throes of
winter.

In a moment Wade and Tommy and the others
would come streaming back in, there would be laughter and jokes,
the easy banter that seemed to characterize this gang flowing
around her. Tommy might even still want to dance. But she had never
felt less like dancing. Even though she realized that this was the
night she ought to be deliriously happy, the night she had dreamed
of for so long, the night she found her brothers, desolation
shrouded her.

All the gaiety and warmth, the sense of
belonging and of being loved that had bolstered her before, had
fled. Cole was gone, taking her happiness with him. The intimacy
and gentleness and sheer powerful passion that had exploded between
them last night might never have been. Juliana was left drained,
humiliated, and alone.

She felt dirty, and impossibly stupid. She
never should have believed her feelings. She never should have let
herself imagine that he might consider her any more seriously than
he considered the dancing girls and whores he no doubt frequented
in every town he passed through. Naive, that’s what she was. A
silly girl who thought that simply because a man saved her life,
and kissed her for his trouble, he actually could care for her—more
than he cared for his horse.

By the time her brothers and Skunk, Gray
Feather, and Yancy trudged back into the cabin, Juliana had her
outward appearance well under control. She was clear-eyed and
straight-backed, and her smile was brilliant, if a shade too wide.
She even danced with Tommy, her feet skimming lightly over the
floorboards, and convinced herself that no one was the wiser, that
no one guessed the torment strangling her heart.

Once she caught Wade’s intent gaze on her and
shot him a dazzling smile. But he didn’t smile back. He was too
smart, that brother of hers, too perceptive to be fooled by anyone
for long. But she desperately had to try.

Because if she couldn’t fool Wade and Tommy
and the others, how could she possibly fool herself? How could she
possibly get through this night, and the days to come —days when
Cole would be near at hand, torturing her—if she couldn’t somehow
convince herself that she didn’t care, she didn’t care, she didn’t
care.

One night of devastation, that was all
Juliana was determined to allow herself. She may have cried herself
to sleep the night before, filled with an acrid, bitter sorrow, but
by the morning, when she opened her eyes in the back room to a day
full of sunshine, she had made up her mind that she was
not
going to allow Mr. Cole Rawdon to ruin her life. She
sat up in bed, tossing her hair over her shoulders in a defiant
gesture. She didn’t need him—she didn’t need anyone but her family,
and now that she had them back, Cole Rawdon could ... could jump
off Stick Mountain if he wanted to and she wouldn’t blink an
eye.

Forget him, that’s what she was going to do.
Forget about the way he looked and walked and smiled, the way his
skin tasted against her lips, the spicy masculine scent of him.
Forget the silky feel of his midnight hair between her fingers.
Forget his muscular warmth when they had lain in that feather bed
together, the way his hands stroked and aroused every intimate part
of her body. Forget his voice, the way his eyes smoldered when she
said something he took exception to, and the way they blazed right
through to her soul when he was about to kiss her. Forget him!

Oh, yes, she was certainly going to forget
him.

It wasn’t so very difficult at first. There
was breakfast to see to, and she was kept more than busy helping
Skunk with the bacon frying and biscuit-making and coffee-pouring.
There were good-morning hugs from Wade and Tommy that helped fill
the emptiness inside her, a warm greeting from the usually taciturn
Yancy, and Gray Feather in his buckskin tunic and leggings sent her
that wry, slight smile of his that she found so endearing and at
such odds with his sharp features and generally fierce
appearance.

Gil Keedy was especially attentive. She felt
him watching her all through the meal, while the friendly banter
was going on, while she was helping Skunk scrub the plates and
frying pan.

Afterward, Wade suggested that he take her to
meet Josie, promising that he would explain all about the girl and
her baby along the way.

Juliana agreed only too eagerly. She wanted
to get as complete a picture as possible about this entire McCray
business. The sooner they removed the threat he posed to Wade and
Tommy, the sooner Cole Rawdon could leave for Denver and settle the
business with John Breen. Then she’d be free of both Breen and Cole
for good.

I can scarcely wait
, she told
herself, drying her hands on a dishrag and following her brother
outside into the open air. She had donned the trousers and shirt
from yesterday since she had figured she’d be riding today, and her
hair was swept into a long golden braid down her back. Out in the
sunlight, Wade noticed that her cheeks were quite pale, and there
were hollows beneath her eyes, hollows as gray as the rocks that
made up the buttes crowning the mountain. But he made no comment,
for Juliana still wore that brilliant, pasted smile of last night
and obviously didn’t wish to discuss what had occurred between her
and Rawdon. Wade wanted to punch him, but when, just as Juliana
pulled herself into the saddle of Skunk’s mustang, Rawdon came
riding up the trail looking cold as a pitcher of ice water in
all-black garb, his hat low over his eyes, Wade forced himself to
offer a curt greeting but nothing more.

Juliana had already informed him that she had
hired Rawdon to help sort out this damned awful mess with McCray,
and then with Breen, which was fine with Wade. They could use
another man, seeing as now they had Juliana to protect, as well as
Josie and the baby.

The whole thing had become too damned
complicated, and far too dangerous for Wade to take lightly.
Usually they were in and out quickly on a job—this Plattsville
business with McCray had gotten out of hand and he knew it wouldn’t
end now until either McCray, or the Montgomerys were dead.

“Come ride with us awhile,” Wade addressed
Rawdon. He noticed the wary look that had come into Juliana’s eyes,
but she held herself rigidly straight in the saddle and did no more
than nod a greeting. Dignified as a princess, that was Juliana. She
had a gentle heart, her brother reflected warmly, but plenty of
backbone. Wade couldn’t help but be proud of her, even though pity
swelled through him. That damned bounty hunter was breaking her
heart; when this bloody business was all over, maybe Wade would
give in to his instincts and beat the hell out of him, but for now
they had to remember they were working on the same side. If they
wanted to stay alive, and keep the women safe, they’d all have to
stick together.

Rawdon’s horse fell in behind Juliana’s
mustang as Wade led the way down the rocky trail. After a while
they reached a level grassy basin where they could ride three
abreast, and Wade had the opportunity to ask the bounty hunter just
how familiar he was with this vast piece of land called Fire
Mesa.

A ghost of a smile touched Cole’s lips.
“Familiar enough,” he returned in his usual laconic manner.

“Cole’s family used to own Fire Mesa,”
Juliana said quickly.

“Oh—Rawdon!” Wade snapped his fingers as if
just recalling something. “That was the name I’d heard about.” He
shot a piercing glance at the profile of the man beside him. “Seems
there was some kind of story about the family losing it years
ago—then an Indian raid —old Joseph Wells never felt quite
comfortable on the place.”

“Wells won it fair and square from my father
in a poker game. No reason he shouldn’t stay.”

“He’s planning to sell. You know that?”

“I know that.”

A silence fell. Golden aspens rustled in the
sharp morning breeze, a hummingbird sang, unseen but lovely, from a
hidden branch. Before them stretched a vista of purple mountains,
misty in the shimmering brilliance of the August sun. A pair of
rabbits chased each other beneath a saguaro, and birds chittered
overhead. There was no hint of the danger that seemed to hem them
in on every side, a danger that all three sensed keenly. McCray and
his men were desperate to frame and kill the Montgomerys. Cole
still didn’t understand why. But he knew that McCray’s hired
killers were out there searching, that being here in the relative
openness of this plain exposed all three of them to ambush. Why
hadn’t he insisted that Juliana stay back?

Strange that they should end up here, on Fire
Mesa. Cole felt a tingle down his spine when he thought about the
Montgomery gang hideout being here, on his grandfather’s land. Or
Wells’ land, he corrected himself swiftly. He hadn’t come back in
twenty years, and now all of this business was centered here. Why?
Cole had a hunch, one that made his scalp prickle. Maybe it was his
fate to die on Fire Mesa. Maybe he had cheated fate all those years
ago when his entire family was wiped out. He should have died then,
too, alongside Mama and Caitlin. Fire Mesa should have been his
burying ground. Maybe it still would be. Maybe that was the reason
for all this.