Native Wolf (35 page)

Suddenly, every dime novel plot she’d ever read raced through her brain, and she began inventing a story to rival the best that Beadle had to offer.

With a conspiratorial glance at Catalina, she rushed to Drew’s side and took his hand. “I’m sorry, Father. The truth is I helped him escape.”

Her father was frowning.

“You see, I know he’s innocent. I’m sure of it,” she said. “How could he have taken that money? He was with me.” She ran her fingers through Drew’s hair, ignoring Catalina’s narrowed eyes. “I couldn’t bear to think of him locked in that jail cell for one more minute.” She leaned over to kiss his brow, and Catalina made an odd strangled sound that turned into a cough.

“You expect me to believe
you
broke him out of jail?” her father asked.

Claire gulped. “I had some…help.” She glanced at Catalina, whose lips were compressed into a thin line.

Her father sighed, shook his head, and muttered an oath that made Claire’s eyes widen.

“Nobody saw us,” she assured him, certain that was his primary concern.

“The jailer claims he saw a ghost,” he said.

“A ghost?” Claire gave a nervous chuckle.

Her father shook his head again. “So what did you do?” He was looking at Catalina. “Slip jimsonweed into his coffee?”

“Yes!” Claire said. “That’s exactly what we did.” That
would
have been a good idea. Claire wondered if her father had experience with jailbreaks.

He nodded toward Drew. “So what’s wrong with him?”

“He was shot in the escape.”

“Is he going to live?”

Catalina’s brow crumpled. “Of course he’s going to live. How can you say such a thing?” To Claire’s consternation, Catalina rushed to the opposite side of the bed and lovingly took Drew’s hand. “
Va tutto bene.”

Her father’s frown deepened with disapproval.

“Father, this is Chase’s…sister…from Hupa.” Claire hoped her father couldn’t tell what language Catalina was speaking.

He pursed his lips. “His sister? Is that what she told you?” He raked Catalina’s scanty attire with scornful eyes. “I think you need to come home with me right now, Claire.”

Claire had to think of a plan—quickly. At the moment, Chase was sleeping off a very long night down the hall in Catalina’s room. But if she didn’t get her father out of the Parlor soon, Chase might show up and ruin her story. Fortunately, she had a bargaining chip. She knew her father would like nothing better than to sweep the whole affair under the rug.

“I’ll make you a bargain, Father.”

“A bargain? I hardly think you’re in a position to—”

“I’ll come with you willingly, and I won’t make a fuss, if you promise not to tell the sheriff he’s here.”

Her father pretended to stew about it, but Claire wasn’t fooled. She was sure he never intended to say a word to anyone about Chase’s whereabouts. He’d just as soon forget Chase Wolf existed. The less people knew, the better.

Still, he groused. “You really think you can trust folks at the Parlor to keep quiet about it?” He cast a sideways glance at Catalina.

Claire shrugged. “I would imagine they’re pretty good at keeping secrets.”

He blew out another annoyed breath and then addressed Catalina. “Is there a back way out of here?”

She nodded.

Claire reluctantly crooked her hand around her father’s elbow, giving Catalina one last important message. “Please take care of…Chase…for me.”

Catalina nodded again, sending Claire a silent assurance with her eyes. And then Claire left the Parlor with her father by the back door, waiting out of sight until he brought the horse around.

What he talked about on the way home was insignificant—something about cattle he was looking to buy, a shed that needed repairs, the upcoming spring dance. All Claire could think about was how soon she could get back to Chase.

When Chase awoke in Catalina’s room with Claire nowhere in sight, he wrapped the sheet around him and burst out of the door, eliciting a chorus of appreciative chuckles from the ladies loitering in the hallway.

Ignoring them, he brushed past to Drew’s room and knocked softly on the door.

The woman answered. She was even more striking in the daylight with her dark hair and ruby lips, but she looked haggard, as if she hadn’t slept a wink. Her dress drooped off of one shoulder, her eyes were rimmed with red, and her hair hung down her back like a tangle of black ribbons.

“How is he?” Chase asked.

She let him in, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. “He will get better, no?”

Chase approached the bed. Drew looked pale. His eyes were sunken and gray. The doctor had been able to retrieve the bullet last night, and it hadn’t done too much internal damage. But the laudanum he’d given Drew for the pain was keeping him foggy. Chase wished his grandmother were alive to use her native medicine.

“He
will
get better?” the woman asked again, her brows furrowed.

“Yep. Sure,” he said, hoping he was right. “Has the doc been by yet?”

She shook her head.

He pulled the covers up over Drew’s chest. “Where’s Claire?”

“She left.”

His breath caught. “Left. What do you mean?”

“Her father came. He was looking for you. She made him believe that Drew was you.”

“And?”

“She promised to go home with him if he would not tell the sheriff you were here.”

Chase didn’t like the idea of her going back to the ranch. But he had to admit it was a clever ploy. It would buy them some time. With any luck, Drew would be up and around in a few days, and they could slip out of Paradise unnoticed. No one would ever know there were two half-breeds in town. No one would know they were twins. Until then, they’d have to lie low.

The hardest part for him would be missing Claire. Until he’d been shut off from her in that jail cell, he hadn’t realized how much he’d grown used to her company. Now, being without her was like being without part of his heart.

He looked at his brother, lying wounded in a whore’s bed, and wondered if Drew would ever know what it was like to be truly in love, to care for a woman so deeply that you didn’t think you could survive without her.

He glanced up at the lady on the other side of the bed. She was worrying her lip with her teeth. She didn’t seem like one of those saloon girls who pretended to be sweet on a fellow for a few extra dollars. She seemed genuinely concerned for Drew.

He felt sorry for her. She didn’t know it, but his brother had a habit of leaving ladies in the dust. It wasn’t that Drew was cruel. He was just restless. Chase doubted he’d ever settle down with one woman.

The lady dipped her lacy handkerchief in the basin of water on the nightstand and used it to wipe Drew’s forehead. Drew was damned lucky to have a woman care for him like that. It was too bad he didn’t know it. But at least while he was unconscious he couldn’t break her heart.

On the other hand, it would be a shame if the woman missed out on several days’ wages for no good reason. So as much as he hated awkward conversations with strange women, he thought he should break the news to her as best he could.

“Listen, ma’am. I don’t know what my brother told you, but he’s not the marrying kind of man. I’m sure he paid you well for your services and probably enjoyed them too. But if you’re looking for him to put a ring on your finger, I don’t think that’s going to happen. I’m sorry to have to break it to you this way, but…”

He trailed off as her laughter filled the room.

“Is that what you think?” she said. She waggled her fingers at him, one of which sported a gold band. “I already have his ring on my finger.” She clucked her tongue. “For a twin, you do not know your brother very well.”

Chase didn’t appreciate her amusement at his expense. He also didn’t believe that ring had come from his brother. “And you
do?
You’ve known him all of, what, three days?”

She shrugged. “I can tell which brother is which,” she pointed out.

That was true. She’d known instantly that it was Drew who’d gotten shot last night, which was remarkable. Some of their own tribe couldn’t tell the twins apart.

Still, that didn’t mean Drew could tell
her
from all the other whores he’d bedded.

“Look, ma’am, I just don’t want you to waste your time on my brother when you’ve got paying customers waiting.”

“It is not a waste of time. I have no customers. I belong to Drew.”

Chase scoffed. He wondered if Drew knew that. Something must have gotten lost in translation. She wasn’t even Drew’s type.

“What I’m trying to say, ma’am, is that my brother is a love-them-and-leave them kind of man.”

She wrinkled her brow in confusion.

“A rolling stone?” he tried.

She looked even more baffled.

“A tumbleweed? One that doesn’t put down roots?”

She shook her head, not comprehending.

He sighed. “My brother is the kind of man who will give a woman a kiss and then vanish into the night.”

“Oh,” she said, understanding at last. “That he does. But he always comes back in the morning.”

Chase’s shoulders drooped. The woman was hopeless. He supposed she’d have to hear it from his brother’s lips then. It would probably break her heart. He just hoped, for Drew’s sake, she wouldn’t have a six-shooter in her hand when he told her.

Claire had managed to avoid her former fiancé for the last three days. But this morning, her father had announced he’d be spending the night at a neighbor’s ranch, leaving her in Frank’s care. She nearly groaned aloud at his transparent attempt to rekindle the romance between her and Frank.

He doubtless imagined Claire would forget all about Chase Wolf once Frank came a-courting. He probably expected that the whole episode with her running away, her kidnapping, the jailbreak, and the incident at the Parlor would fade into oblivion, like an insignificant bump in the road.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

She’d decided before she’d ever met Chase that she couldn’t marry Frank. It wasn’t fair to either of them. She didn’t love Frank. She’d only gone along with the engagement because it had pleased her father. And at that time, she would have done anything for his approval.

But things had changed. She deserved better. Frank deserved better. And she didn’t really care if her father approved or not.

Furthermore, no amount of persuasion by Frank in the way of flowers and bonbons and the picnic he’d put together this afternoon was going to change her mind or her heart.

She was bound to Chase Wolf now—body, mind, and spirit. They belonged together. Whether it was destiny, God’s will, or the will of Chase’s Creator, there was a bond between them that was unbreakable.

Somehow her father had forgotten about that kind of bond. He’d known it once with her mother. It was a bond that survived hardship and pain and loss. It was a bond that stretched beyond the grave.

“Chicken, Claire?”

Claire looked up blankly at Frank. He was sitting across from her on the gingham square, in the dappled shade of an oak tree, holding up a golden fried drumstick in a napkin.

She had no appetite, but she didn’t want to get into another discussion with Frank about how she could use a little more meat on her bones. So she took the drumstick.

He dug through the contents of the wicker basket the cook had put together.

“Biscuits, sweet butter, coleslaw, pickles, peach cobbler,” he recited. “Here’s a flask of apple jack for me,” he said with a wink, “and lemonade for you.”

She nibbled on the end of the drumstick and watched Frank as he began laying out the feast. He wasn’t a bad catch. He had curly gold hair that shone in the sunlight, bright blue eyes, and a ready smile. He was trim and fit, dressed well, minded his manners for the most part, and knew how to do the two-step.

He would make someone a suitable husband.

Just not Claire.

She gazed at the bouquet of daisies he’d bought her, tied up with a yellow ribbon by a shopkeeper, and couldn’t help but think about the rabbit fur slippers Chase had made for her.

She glanced at the box of candy Frank had bought for her at the general store and remembered the honey Chase had harvested from the hive with his bare hands.