Cherished (38 page)

Cole wasn’t a superstitious man, but he had a
powerful belief in Fate, or perhaps God—some higher power that had
created all this spectacular beauty in the West, who tested men’s
courage and mettle and honor, who dealt out life and death, pain
and laughter, according to some secret plan that Cole couldn’t
fathom but that he knew with every fiber of his being did exist.
Maybe this was all part of His plan. Maybe he was destined to die
here on the land his grandfather had loved, the land that had
already soaked up so much of his family’s blood. If that was his
destiny, it was fine with him. But he would take McCray and Jackson
and their whole rotten outfit down with him when he went. He’d keep
Juliana safe if it cost him every breath in his body, every last
ounce of blood.

Seeing her this morning, being with her now,
was torturing him. It would be different if he could tell her how
he felt and explain the reasons why he was no fit husband for her
or for anyone—but he knew that would only make it worse. She had a
fiercely loyal heart. She was too headstrong for her own good. She
probably thought she loved him. She would argue and resist him and
use all her wiles to keep him by her side. And it would only make
it more difficult when he had to ride away—or when she had to watch
him lowered into the ground in a pine casket.

Better to break it off now—let her start
turning her thoughts to Keedy or someone like him, as soon as
possible. If she had started to hate him, so much the better.

But oh, damn everything to hell, what he
would give to hold her again, to feel her softness against him, to
kiss her lips, the pink nipples of her breasts, to feel her wrapped
around him.

Juliana.

Never had he imagined a name could sound so
sweet, or feel so warmly sensuous on his tongue. Never had he
imagined he could feel so deeply, painfully for anyone ever again.
He had thought in the orphanage, when night after night he’d
endured beatings, hunger, and the virulent hatred of that
institution’s administrator, that he had learned how base human
beings could be—and that he was forever safe from being hurt by any
one human again. He had stopped feeling pain, hunger, the need for
love. Later, his experience with Jess Burrows had confirmed his
opinion of human beings. Only fury and a relentless belief in
himself had remained. It was these same qualities that had enabled
him to survive the bloodbath on Fire Mesa, the cruel years of the
orphanage, and being left to die in the desert when Jess had shot
him in the back. Then Sun Eagle had taught him the ways of the
Cheyenne, ways of strength and cunning, and he had become nearly
invincible.

But not quite. A woman, delicate and lovely
as a flower, had pierced his shield. A woman with emerald eyes that
could sparkle and flash brighter than any gem, a woman with
stubborn ways and a laugh as mellow as fine wine, and a heart that
was open and giving.

She had taught him that he was not proof
against love. She had taught him that arrogance was the way of
fools. She had given him the only moments of real happiness he had
known since his boyhood.

He wouldn’t repay her by saddling her with
his troubles, and whatever dark fate lay in store for him. He would
steer her in another direction, like a line rider driving a calf
away from a dangerous precipice, and leave her free to love someone
who would bring her far more than he ever could.

Wade’s voice broke into his reverie. “If
you’re familiar with these parts, you may know the old Simpson
place down by the river. The land borders Fire Mesa on the south.
That’s where we’re headed. It’s deserted now, except for the woman
we’re going to see.”

Cole glanced at Wade, deliberately avoiding
Juliana’s silent form to his right. “And who is she?”

“Josie Larson—and her baby. They’ve left the
place pretty much as it was, so that no one riding by could tell
it’s inhabited. So far, McCray hasn’t found them. One of these
days, I’m afraid he will. But Josie won’t come and stay with us at
Stick Mountain. She’s stubborn, insists on staying on her own.
We’ve been trying to protect her as best we can.”

The story Wade told them then about Josie
Larson almost made Juliana forget about her own problems. When a
scant hour later, they rode into an overgrown, weed-strewn yard and
pulled up before a dilapidated one-story adobe house with the
windows all boarded up and a tumbledown barn and well behind it,
she was so intent upon meeting the unfortunate young woman Wade had
described to her that she almost forgot about Cole Rawdon’s
presence.

Almost.

When she stepped down from her horse, her
foot caught in one of the long, tangled weeds strangling the front
yard, and she nearly fell, but suddenly he was at her side,
gripping her elbow, steadying her, the clean, masculine scent of
him filling her nostrils.

She jerked her arm away. “When I need your
help, I’ll ask for it,” she heard herself snapping.

“You’d have been asking from facedown with a
mouthful of dirt and weeds.”

“I’m perfectly capable of looking out for
myself.”

He touched a hand to his hat, then followed
Wade to the door. She was right. He should have kept his distance.
Trouble was, he was used to looking out for her now. It was a habit
he’d have to break.

Broken steps and peeling paint, and more
weeds sprouting right up to the threshold, gave the house a rundown
air. Juliana wondered how anyone could live here as she picked her
way after the men, her curiosity growing strong about Josie
Larson.

A tall, willowy young woman was waiting for
them inside, her baby boy clutched in her arms.

“I thought at first you were McCray,” she
said, smiling with relief as she came toward them. The only light
came from a kerosene lantern on the mantel, and from the open door,
so it was difficult to see her face until she approached. “Then I
realized it was you, Wade. I put on some coffee.” Gazing back and
forth between Juliana and Cole, studying them with a swift, keen
scrutiny, her smile widened suddenly. “You must be Wade and Tommy’s
sister!” she exclaimed, her brown eyes meeting Juliana’s gaze
warmly. “I’m so glad to meet you at last. They’ve done nothing but
talk about finding you! And whoever you are, you’re welcome,
mister, since you’re with Wade,” she said easily to Cole. “Come in
and try to make yourselves comfortable.”

The inside of the house was more inviting and
habitable than the outside, clean and free of dust and dirt, though
it was a sparsely furnished little house with shuttered windows and
bare floors and little in the way of adornment. But it was the
young woman who had greeted them who drew Juliana’s attention. She
liked the friendly, plainspoken girl at once.

Josie Larson was as unaffected as a robin.
She was perhaps twenty, slightly taller than average, and thin as a
reed. Short amber curls spilled down about a pretty, heart-shaped
face made most interesting by her wide-set brown eyes. She was not
beautiful but, rather, warm and appealing with a direct manner and
a calm, matter-of-fact voice that sat well with Juliana. Yet there
was a troubled sorrow lurking in those clear brown eyes that
touched Juliana. Knowing something of Josie’s story, she understood
the reason behind the young woman’s careworn air.

But the baby, little Kevin, only seven months
old, was a treasure from whom she could scarcely draw her eyes.
While Josie served coffee to the men in the small, homey kitchen,
Juliana settled down in a corner rocker with the baby on her lap,
and found herself totally absorbed in his antics, chuckling over
his every attempt to pull her hair, to poke her eyes out with his
tiny stubby fingers. She cooed with laughter each time she ducked
her head away just in the nick of time. This, of course, made him
squeal with joy and immediately encouraged him to try again.

But as Wade and Josie talked, interrupted now
and then by a question from Cole, she drew the baby close to her
and listened. Gradually, all the pieces of the McCray puzzle began
to slide into place, and the picture it made was a chilling
one.

Like Henny, Josie had been victimized by
McCray’s greedy takeover in Plattsville. She had been married to
Clint Larson, the young owner of a livery stable, who had
vociferously opposed many of the ideas McCray put forth for the
town’s expansion, sensing that these plans would be for McCray’s
benefit and no one else’s. Two nights after the town meeting when
he had spoken out, Clint had been working late when a fire broke
out in his stables near the far end of town. Seven horses had died,
and along with them, Clint’s body was found among the ashes, his
remains charred so badly, they were barely recognizable. Maybe an
accident, maybe not, Sheriff Rivers had commented. He would
certainly investigate.

But Josie had known deep in her heart that it
was murder.

The story grew worse. McCray had had the
gumption to show up at Clint’s funeral, ostensibly paying the widow
his respects. Somehow or other, the willowy, amber-haired young
woman with the infant clasped in her arms had caught his fancy. He
had begun pursuing her, sending flowers, gifts, calling on her
despite her state of mourning. Of course, she had rebuffed him at
every turn and the sheriff had even warned him off on her behalf.
But one night when Rivers was away from Plattsville on business,
several men who worked for McCray had shown up at her house on the
fringes of town and tried to drag her off. They told her that their
boss was waiting for her in his suite at the hotel, that he’d been
patient long enough.

Fortunately, Wade and Tommy had been heading
out of town after a night of gambling at the saloon and saw Josie
being dragged down the street. They’d interfered, wounding one man
in the ensuing gunfight, killing two others. That’s when the
vendetta between the Montgomery brothers and Line McCray had really
begun.

Wade and Tommy, after hearing her story, had
helped Josie and her baby move out of town to this abandoned ranch.
Not long afterward they had heard that Sheriff Rivers was dead, and
that they were being hunted for his murder.

Juliana interrupted at this point to question
Wade. Kevin had fallen asleep in her arms, his soft little cheek
resting against the curve of her shoulder. “Sheriff Dane told me
that you and Tommy robbed a gold shipment from the Sanders mine.
Was that much true?”

“Sure was. That happened months ago, long
before we came across Josie. We’d already met up with Gil and
started heading back to Denver for you. When we reached Rimrock, we
heard about the bounty and realized you must be on the loose. The
Southwest is a mighty big place. We didn’t know where to look, so
we decided to lay low in Arizona for a while, hoping to get some
word about your whereabouts. When there’s a two-thousand-dollar
reward offered, a lot of rumors tend to fly around. We spent a good
while checking them out. Tommy even rode all the way to the
Colorado border trying to pick up your trail, but all he heard was
a lot of talk. While he was gone, Yancy and Skunk and I were nosing
around about McCray. Everyone for miles around was talking about
how he was buying up every piece of property and business he could
find, that Wells was planning to sell him Fire Mesa, that he meant
to build a railroad clear through to Texas. One of the things Yancy
found out was that McCray owned the Sanders mine. He’d forced Jed
Sanders to sell out to him secretly. So two months ago, waiting for
Tommy to get back, we robbed the shipment on its way to Timber
Junction, then gave a portion of it back to Sanders. Tommy got back
from the border, still with no word about you, Juliana, and so we
laid low for a while longer, waiting for our luck to change. Then
one night Gil Keedy reported that Rivers was away. We had sent
Skunk and Yancy and Gray Feather as far away as New Mexico trying
to get a lead on you, but so far, no word from them. Tommy and I
were going stir crazy up on Stick Mountain, so we decided to sneak
into the Ten Gallon Saloon for the evening. We always wear masks
during holdups, so we didn’t worry too much about anyone
recognizing our faces. Anyway,” Wade finished, “that’s the night we
met Josie. Once we heard about her troubles, we got caught up in
this whole mess and figured we had to stay and see it through until
it was finished.” He grinned over at his sister, comfortably
reclining in the rocker with the baby sleeping peacefully against
her shoulder. “Lucky thing you showed up in the vicinity. Now, as
Tommy would say, we can kill two birds with one stone.”

“And what might those two birds be?” Cole
asked, setting his empty coffee cup down on the table. He tried to
keep from staring at Juliana with that tiny baby in her arms. She
looked downright natural holding him. She loved it, too, he could
tell that by the glow on her face. Cole tried not to think about
the little son or daughter he could have shared with her one day—if
things had been different. They weren’t different, he reminded
himself angrily. Juliana would just have to have some other man’s
baby....

But that thought made him scowl even more
blackly.

“The two birds were to rescue Juliana from
you and any other greedy bounty hunter who might have his eye on
that damned reward,” Wade retorted. “And to keep watch over Josie
until McCray is dead or driven out.”

“Men like McCray don’t get driven out. He’ll
have to be six feet under before this is over,” Cole said as though
discussing the chance of an afternoon drizzle.

“Then he’ll be six feet under.” Wade met the
bounty hunter’s skeptical look with a determined set to his mouth.
“He’s hurt enough people already. It’s the only way.”

Juliana swallowed. Violence. She knew McCray
was evil, that he deserved to die, and yet something inside her
cringed at the easy way both Wade and Cole turned to killing for
the answer. She took a deep breath. Maybe it wasn’t easy for them
after all. Maybe they had just seen enough of lawlessness and greed
and brutality to know that sometimes it was the only way to put an
end to such evil. She shuddered as a tremor worked its way down her
spine. It might be the only way, but she couldn’t bring herself to
like it.