Delilah's Flame (40 page)

She turned to face Lilah.

“Tabor might enjoy a little tryst with you,” she said, her voice cold and mocking. “But when it’s over, he’ll come back to me. We’ve been lovers since the day I turned sixteen. He promised to marry me and he will. You’ll see!” She braced herself on the edge of the water trough and jeered at Lilah. “He only brought you here to make me jealous.”

Sally Ann’s words unleashed something harsh in Lilah. It completely slipped her mind that she wanted nothing more to do with Tabor after the end of the week. All she could see was Sally Ann’s red dress and taunting face and the opportunity she had missed.

Muttering a cry of cold fury, Lilah drove herself into Sally Ann and sent the unfortunate girl toppling backward into the trough. Soaked from head to foot, Sally Ann began a sputtering that quickly became a tearful wail, but in between cries she managed to hurl a lifetime of oaths at Lilah.

Lilah left Sally Ann to climb out of the trough alone. Her cheek still red from Sally Ann’s slap, she marched back through the barn, her head held high. Dancers stopped in mid-step and conversations stopped in mid-sentence as she breezed by. Once she had passed, a tittering of whispered talk started behind her. Lilah ignored the stares, the whispers, everyone.

Baffled because no one at the refreshment table could explain why he had been summoned to receive a message, Tabor claimed a glass of lemonade and started back to Sally Ann. She was being as pesky tonight as she had been as a pigtailed girl following him around town. He hoped the lemonade would pacify her while he gracefully said what needed saying. He was anxious to get away and find Lilah. The last he had seen of her was when she had spun by in the arms of Ben Wagner, her face so intent on the young cowboy’s that she hadn’t even noticed him.

Dammit! He hadn’t expected to get separated from her so early in the evening. And seeing her locking eyes with Ben had irritated him to the point he had almost walked off from Sally Ann and demanded Lilah restrict her dance partners to him alone.

If he hadn’t felt so bad about embarrassing Sally Ann, he would have done it. He’d taken her outside to try to make her understand she ought to set her sights on some other man. But that kid had come along and interrupted, and since Tabor still had Judd Chapman on his mind, he’d rushed inside. While he was tying up his horse, one of the men from the Paradise Saloon had told him a stranger had been in asking about him. He doubted it was Chapman, but the description was close, and as a precaution he had asked that word be sent to him if the man came back.

The kid must have made a mistake, or maybe he was only playing a joke. He supposed Sally Ann was still waiting for him by the back door. Before she made a fool of herself and started any more tongues wagging about the way she had asked him to dance, he had to explain things to her. Her infatuation with him was getting out of hand. She’d be mad, but she’d get over it. Anyhow, she had plenty of suitors mooning over her.

Tabor heard a murmur run through the crowd and wondered at the cause of it. The fiddling stopped and he looked around like everybody else. Where the hell was Lilah? He didn’t see her anywhere inside. If she was out walking with one of those skirt-hungry cowboys, there was going to be hell to pay. Where the devil was she?

Like the trapdoor on a gallows, Tabor’s mouth fell open as he came face-to-face with Lilah. He almost spilled Sally Ann’s lemonade when he saw her blazing eyes and fire-red cheek. Nose in the air, she marched past him without a word.

“Lilah!” Had one of those cowboys gotten fresh? Tabor handed the lemonade to the nearest person and caught up with her just as she passed through the main door. He had blood in his eye for whoever had done this to her. “Your face,” he mumbled. “What happened, sweetheart?”

Lilah whirled around and nearly cut him to the ground with her enraged look. “Ask that hussy who’s waiting for you out back,” she hissed, and turned her back on him.

Guessing what had happened, Tabor looked around for Sally Ann. He wondered which of them had gotten the worse of things, then concluded it would turn out to be him. Though Lilah resisted his touch, he led her out of sight of the crowd.

“Don’t move from this spot,” he warned. “I’ll get Sarah and Wyrick and we’ll leave for the ranch.”

Stamping her foot as he walked away, Lilah did precisely the opposite of what he had asked just as soon as he walked in the door.

Tabor hurried through the buzzing crowd. The fiddlers had started up and a few couples had gone back to dancing, but they stopped too when Sally Ann, wet as a drowned cat, stumbled in the back door.

“Just look at me,” she moaned, holding the sodden, dripping crimson skirt away from her legs. She caught sight of Tabor and lifted reproachful eyes to him. “Look at what that San Francisco tart did to me.”

Tabor edged away, figuring this wasn’t the best time to explain things to Sally Ann. He spied Sarah and made a beeline for her, still hearing Sally Ann wailing behind him.

Sally Ann had many friends in Sandy Flats, but there were a few who gloated at seeing her get her comeuppance. She was met with as much laughter as compassion. At least one of the wide-eyed observers had the presence of mind to produce a horse blanket and wrap it around her shaking shoulders. Another found her parents and from them Sally Ann got the consolation she needed.

Sarah, seeing Sally Ann and reading a look from Tabor, grabbed Wyrick by the arm and made for the door.

“You sure stuck a stick in a hornet’s nest, boy,” Sarah chastised as they escaped the crowd. “I hope Lilah’s not as sad-looking as that imp Sally Ann.”

Tabor scowled. “Watch your tongue, Sarah. Lilah’s fine except for her temper, and I think she blames all of this on me.”

“Small wonder,” Sarah commented dryly. “You should have made yourself clear to Sally Ann way back instead of stringing her along.”

“Don’t nag, Sarah. I’m in no mood.” Tabor’s scowl deepened. “I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“You don’t think they’re hurt now?” Sarah asked forcefully. “Being humiliated in front of the whole of Sandy Flats?”

Tabor didn’t answer. He halfway felt all of this was his fault, and wondered how he was going to deal with two she-cats who would like to claw his eyes out along with each other’s. What was worse, he noticed Lilah wasn’t waiting where he’d left her.

“Goddammit!” he said, mindless that Sarah didn’t cotton to his profanity. “Where the hell is Lilah?”

Sarah let out a heavy sigh, one of those that said it was going to be a long night. “There,” she said, pointing to Tabor’s mount galloping by almost covered by blue silk skirts. Lilah’s long hair streamed out in a banner behind her.

She was riding away from the ranch and out into open country. Tabor shouted after her but she never looked back. He glanced around at Sarah’s stern face and moaned. Now he had three females ready to shoot him in the back.

Pulling a long leather glove tight over his bandaged hand and wrist, Judd Chapman led his horse down the blackened length of the alley across from Tompkin’s barn. A smile as wicked as the split of a serpent’s mouth shone from his face. For hours he had watched the festivities in Sandy Flats and now he was to be rewarded for his patience. What he wanted would come to him as if he’d sent a formal invitation.

He watched the rider, a woman, streak by in defiant disregard of the darkness or the few people on the street. Her hair flew out behind her and caught the moonlight. No woman but Lilah Damon had hair like that, like copper beaten into gold. Even if those streaming tresses had been covered he would have known her by the shapely silhouette of her curves and by the angry set of her mouth. How well he remembered the tempting fullness of those lovely lips. And they were but one of her gems.

He thought of sampling them, and though his way was alien to other men, the picture in his mind sent a surprising rush of blood into his manhood. At the unexpected surge and tightening there, Chapman fell against his horse, for a moment unable to mount. Fires of hell! Just the thought of her had made him hard. He couldn’t count the years since that had happened.

“Lilah.” He rolled the name off his lips as he thought of the lush curves and satin flesh that would soon be his.

It almost seemed a shame to disfigure that lovely body, but the thought of the pleasure it would be to see red blood against that milky skin outweighed the few shreds of his conscience. He licked his lips, thinking of the salty taste of it mingled with her sweetness. He would take it slow with her, only a few nicks at a time. And if she could keep him hard, he would keep her with him a long, long time.

Chapman immediately spat out a curse. Stanton! Stanton would be hot on her trail in a matter of minutes. He didn’t doubt that. With his gun hand useless, there wasn’t a way he could face Stanton. Cursing, Chapman spurred his horse to a run. The serpent’s smile returned to his lips as his twisted mind worked in its devious way.

Why should he face Stanton? The last time they had met, his mistake had been in letting the girl go. If he’d held on to her, Stanton would have yielded to him. The same would work now. Stanton wouldn’t risk hurting Lilah. All he had to do was get to her first, and Stanton would be finished. A harsh laugh rumbled out of his throat. Putting a bullet in Stanton would be a big pleasure.

Afterward Damon would give him the claim for the promise of getting his daughter back. Chapman laughed even more scornfully. He had to stop thinking small. Damon was a rich man. Lilah would be worth more to him than just the claim.

Praising Lady Luck for giving him such an easy chance at getting rich and another chance at being a man, Chapman turned his horse to a high trail above the road. Not far ahead he heard the clatter of another horse’s hooves.

*     *     *

Tabor untied a mount from the hitching rail and leapt astride, shouting for Wyrick to let the owner know what had become of the animal. Lilah had a few minutes’ start and a faster horse, but less skill as a rider. He counted on her tiring of the strain of hanging on at a gallop. She would slow her horse after a while and that would give him a chance to catch her shortly. Maybe. He thought grimly of how unpredictable Lilah could be when mad. If she cut across country instead of staying on the road, he would have a hellacious time finding her. Looking for tracks in the dark would slow him down plenty. But even Lilah wouldn’t be foolish enough to take a risk like that.

Yes she would. Mad as she was, she’d ride over the devil’s horsemen to get away from him. He had a good mind to thrash her when he caught her, or at the very least to give her the dressing-down she deserved. Didn’t she have a thought for danger or the worry she was causing Sarah? He just hoped Chapman
wasn’t
around anywhere. This opportunity was the sort that bastard would wait for to get Lilah in his clutches again.

He ran the gamut of curses. That redheaded vixen was more trouble than a dozen women. Thrashing was too good for her. He could be better served by hog-tying her and locking her in his room. He cursed himself for ever letting her out of sight at the dance. At the ranch his men had kept a watch on her when he wasn’t around. Lilah didn’t know that even her walks in Sarah’s garden were done under the watchful eye of a guard or that one of the reasons he’d stayed around the house while Sarah was midwifeing was to avoid leaving her alone.

He didn’t want her dwelling on the possibility that Chapman would nab her again. No point in her staying scared all the time. Now he wished he had gone ahead and told her how vile the man was, that he was even more unstable than she realized. Hell! He had been selfish in not wanting to spoil her mood. He had counted on the men at the ranch doing a good job of protecting her. And they had. He was the one who had failed, figuring that she was safe enough in a crowd. He could have kicked his backside for being so careless. If that stranger asking about him had been Chapman, she was risking her life to spite him.

*     *     *

Lilah rode at a full gallop until she felt sorry for Tabor’s horse and slowed him to a trot. The wind in her face felt cool and restorative, but even it hadn’t the power to ease her fiery temper. Much of her anger was directed at herself. She was horrified by what she had done to Sally Ann Caufield. Of course she never would have dreamed of doing anything so reckless if the girl hadn’t kept goading her.

Lovers since her sixteenth birthday
, Sally Ann had said. Why, Sally Ann had been just a child and Tabor well into his twenties when...That brute! Did he get sadistic pleasure out of ruining virgins? This was definitely the limit. Just as soon as she saw him again she would tell him so in no uncertain terms.

Lilah shivered, becoming aware of the black gloom around her. In the distance a coyote yowled, or was it a wolf? For the first time since riding out of Sandy Flats she considered that she didn’t know where she was going or even why she had passed judgment on Tabor. As experienced as he was at lovemaking, she could hardly have believed him a saint. So why the grief over learning Sally Ann was one of those with whom he had honed his skills? What possible difference could it make to her if he had bedded that overgrown brat? Or promised to marry her? Let them make each other miserable until eternity. She didn’t care.

What did upset her was being subjected to Sally Ann’s ire. She hadn’t bargained for that. Nothing in the agreement between Tabor and herself included being ridiculed by another of his ladyloves. Oh! How could she even include herself in the same thought with Sally Ann? She wasn’t staying at the Cooke ranch to become a member of Tabor Stanton’s scattered harem. He’d had his fun, taken her virginity, taken her...She gasped at what leapt into her mind. Had she been about to say “heart?” Even a hint of it was utterly ridiculous. She wasn’t jealous of Sally Ann. She didn’t love Tabor. She didn’t want him to ask her to stay with him. She would marry Barrett the way she planned. Nothing would stop her.

Bristling with renewed indignation, Lilah reined the horse around sharply, determined to ride back to Sandy Flats and demand Tabor release her from the obligation. In the quick turn the horse stumbled in the loose gravel covering the roadbed, and one leg slid out from under him so that he almost went down. Lilah managed to stay in the saddle by grabbing the horn and hanging on. She immediately slowed the animal to a walk. But it was soon apparent that some injury had been done to the steed’s hoof, and Lilah was forced to dismount and attempt a look. Enough moonlight shone down that she could detect a small sharp stone wedged between shoe and hoof. A sigh of despair escaped her. To make the creature go on would be cruel, and she had nothing with which to remove the stone. Another coyote yowled at the moon. Lilah felt just as forlorn. Had there been any use to it, she would have cried. Instead she petted the poor horse and murmured soothing words she had once heard Tabor say. She had really used her head, she lamented. And here she sat, miles out of town, with a lame horse and absolutely no idea if there was a ranch house near. Feeling as if the air had turned inhospitably chill, Lilah led the animal off the road and tied him, but stayed near, finding the horse gave her some sense of security.