Once A Wolf (44 page)

Randall. Her heart felt encased in a layer of ice.

He turned to look at her, and she knew he had been warned that she was coming. His face had

lost any sign of shock or gratitude or relief, and he merely stared at her as if he felt nothing.

As if he were testing her.

She closed her eyes and drew a shuddering breath. "Cole," she said. And then she let her legs

buckle and sank to the carpet.

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He was at her side even before the deputy. With casual strength he lifted her into his arms.

"Go for the doctor," he told Vasquez. "See to it that we're not disturbed until he comes. And

send a servant with water and brandy."

The man left with alacrity. Rowena kept her eyes closed and leaned against Cole heavily. He

took her to the settee near the window and eased her down, arranging the cushions to support

her.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "Is there anything you require until the servant comes?"

"No. I am sorry. I'm… quite all right. Just a little tired." She didn't let go of his hand, though she

felt a profound desire to push him away.

"My poor Rowena," he said, sitting beside her. "It's no wonder you feel ill after all you've been

through. You have nothing to be frightened of now. You are safe."

She let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "Yes. It was… quite terrible." She

opened her eyes. His expression was still composed, neither anxious nor angry, only marked

with the polite concern he might show any woman in her circumstances. Of course he'd never

been maudlin; that was one of the things she'd appreciated about him. Had she hoped he

would throw open his arms and weep in joyous relief at her safe return? "I hardly know where

to begin— how to explain—"

"Weylin told me everything," he said. "Randall fooled you into believing your brother needed

your help, and you came west with him."

The words sounded like a condemnation. "He tricked me," she whispered. "I didn't know who

he really was. I didn't realize he was your enemy—"

"Of course you didn't." He pulled his hand free of hers with utmost gentleness. "But I am

surprised at your impulsive actions. You should have consulted me before even considering

leaving New York."

"Yes. I know." She dropped her gaze. "It was entirely my fault—"

"It was also Weylin's fault. He let the outlaw take you."

"The outlaw held a gun on him. There was nothing he could do." She shivered. "Oh, Cole. It was

dreadful, and all I could think of was how worried you must be, and the trouble I should cause

you—"

"Yes." He rose and went to stand beside the window. "You must forgive me for failing to rescue

you."

His voice was so remote." I know you did all you could—" she began.

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"Paying the ransom was out of the question." He glanced back at her. "He did not hurt you."

This was the difficult part. "Not… physically," she said. "But something else happened—it is

painful to speak of it…"

He looked at her. "You are perhaps referring to what occurred yesterday."

Her flush was not contrived. "Yes. You are aware… that those of animal nature can sometimes

control others with their wills—"

"And that is what Randall did to you. You would have no defenses against such an attack."

"Yes." He was making it easy. "I attempted to escape at first, but he had his men watching me.

And then—he began to control me." She clutched her temples. "He made me come into town

yesterday. He wanted to taunt you with my presence, while all the while he… forced me to

behave like a criminal. I tried to fight it, but… oh, Cole. What you must think of me."

It would have been the perfect time for him to come to her and embrace her in understanding

and forgiveness. But he kept his distance. "Was there anything else he forced you to do?"

She started at his bluntness. Her flush deepened. If he could imagine what went through her

mind at this moment…

"No," she said. "He did not. He… looked at me. That is all."

"I see. Then we have cause to be grateful."

Grateful—because her value had not been damaged in his eyes? She pushed the thought aside.

First she must convince him to take her back to New York, and then—then she could deal with

the things Tomás had told her.

"I am simply glad to be back," she said. "To be free of him and his band of cutthroats." She

swallowed. "He did not succeed in his plans. You must wish to know all that happened—"

"There will be time for details later," he said. "You have not told me how you managed to

escape his control."

His coolness went beyond emotional restraint and well-bred formality. Could he care so little if

he thought, as he should, that she'd suffered? At the very least, he'd know she had experienced

humiliation, discomfort, physical hardship, and loss of the dignity that was essential to her

being.

"I escaped," she said carefully, "because he is dead."

His head jerked, and he lost his aloof demeanor. "Dead? Randall is dead?"

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"Yes. The one who rode with him—Kavanagh—they quarreled. Kavanagh shot him. It released

his control over me."

He continued to stare at her. "Kavanagh. Where is he?"

"I don't know. He rode off… I think he was wounded in the fight."

"Did he try to get you away from Randall?"

Best to stick close to the truth. "Yes. Two days ago, he got me out of the—the place where

Randall hides." She gave Cole her most humble look of gratitude. "He told me you had hired

him to save me. But Randall hunted him down and took me back. That was why he decided to

come into Las Vegas, because we were so close."

Cole's jaw flexed. "Then Kavanagh did betray El Lobo," he said. "But why did he help Randall

escape yesterday? Did he also fall under Randall's control?"

"I don't know. I was… not in my right mind. I only know that they fought last night, and Randall

was killed." She had to fight to clear her mind of the image of Tomás lying dead. She covered

her face with her hands. "So much violence—"

"Do you pity him?"

"Pity him? The man who kidnapped me?" She reminded herself not to show too much outrage.

Humility, Rowena. "All I could think of was returning to you, and to New York. To leave this

horrible place behind forever."

He smiled faintly. "I do so admire you, Rowena. Any other woman would be reduced to a

puddle of jelly by now."

Was that it? She hadn't been fragile enough to suit him? "I did not think… that you would wish

me to behave so," she said. She let hurt creep into her voice. "I thought you would be glad to

see me safe."

"But I am, my dear. More than you can imagine." He knelt beside the couch and took her hand.

"I'm sorry if I've seemed cold. I've been quite preoccupied by this trying situation. Now that I

know he is dead, we can put this unfortunate incident behind us."

"Oh, yes. That is all I wish, Cole. Only that."

He squeezed her fingers. "Where is that servant? You must have the best of care from now on."

"Thank you. I shan't disappoint you again."

"No." His gaze held hers. "What did you think of Randall?"

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"Think of him? He was a barbarian, a savage." Once she would have spoken with complete

conviction. "He was merely a beast in human shape."

"You knew he was a werewolf."

"He… flaunted it. Cole, must we talk about—"

"He took you to his lair."

"Yes. It was some sort of canyon in the desert far from here, but I was blindfolded."

"You weren't when Kavanagh took you out."

"No… but I recognized nothing."

"A pity. If you had, we could wipe out the nest of his followers once and for all."

Wipe out. He meant Nestor, and Enrique, and Pilar, and Mateo. As if they were insects to be

crushed underfoot. Her fingers stiffened in his hold.

"They have lost their leader," she said. "How much harm can they do now? All I wish to do is

forget about them." She let her eyes become moist. "Take me home, Cole. Back to New York."

"Of course," he said, but his gaze remained intent. "What did he tell you about me?"

"Randall? I don't—"

"Surely he spoke of me in most unflattering terms. He had no reason to be discreet. He must

have told you why he hated me, and why I hated him."

She hesitated. This was a way to hear his side of it, but there could be just as much risk in

revelation.

"He boasted," she said. "I didn't listen. Why should I? He was a thief and a liar."

He cupped her cheek in his palm. "Did he tell you that I killed his father?"

She allowed her shock to show. "I presumed it was only another lie—"

"It's no lie." His expression hardened. "Fergus Randall, his father, shot my brother Kenneth in

the back during the battle of Glorieta Pass. We are MacLeans; we couldn't allow my brother's

life to go unavenged."

He admitted it freely, as if he were proud of such a barbarous philosophy. This was not the Cole

she'd known. How much else of Tomás's story was true? "Randall… mentioned a feud—"

" It was over years before the War. Fergus Randall started it again when he killed my brother."

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"Kenneth? You've never spoken of him—"

"Kenneth was my father's eldest son. He was nothing like my father—he didn't have the

ambition or the strength. But he knew how to do just what Frank wanted." Bitterness edged

Cole's voice. "He was the favorite, the perfect one, the brave hero. Father chose him to inherit

everything he'd built in Texas." He looked away. "All my father's dreams lay with him. When he

was murdered, my father went crazy with grief. He swore vengeance even before the War was

over. I went with him to find Randall. But he underestimated Randall's cunning. Instead of

accepting a fair fight, Randall tricked us into an ambush. He was the one who did this." He

touched the empty sleeve of his right shoulder. "I saved my father."

Rowena stared at his old injury. She'd believed—he'd led everyone in New York to believe—

that he'd lost it in the War, fighting honorably. She thought back to the words of the corrido. It

had said that Fergus killed Kenneth MacLean in battle, after asking the MacLeans to leave the

Territory. It said that the MacLeans had ambushed and killed Fergus in Mexico.

"Did Randall tell you that we killed his mother as well, and stole his land?" Cole asked. "The

weak will always twist the facts to justify their cowardice and treachery. The Randalls were all

thieves and killers. We recovered the cattle they had stolen from us. Fergus's wife abandoned

the land and disappeared. She probably returned to her own savage kind."

He must mean the Apache. Was it possible that Tomás and the corrido were wrong about his

mother's death? Perhaps, in his grief, he'd mistaken the wolf pelt he'd seen for his mother's.

Tomás might be a thief, but he was far from stupid. He believed in the reasons for what he did.

Someone was lying.

"After that," Cole said, "Randall hunted down my father—an old, sick man by then—and

murdered him. It was butchery. He got away and declared war on my family. His whole

ambition has been to destroy everything we have done for this Territory." He turned Rowena's

face toward his. "But if he's dead—" His fingers tightened just enough to pinch her skin. "He is

dead, isn't he, my dear? You're quite sure of that?"

She held very still. "Yes, Cole."

He dropped his hand. "Of course. How absurd to think that you might lie to me."

"No more," she said softly, "than you would ever lie to me."

"Do I hear doubt in your voice?" Cole asked. He gathered up a lock of her hair. "Have I ever

misled you, Rowena?"

No.

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"But I sense that you are somehow dissatisfied with what I've told you." He fanned her hair

between his fingers. "We are to be married, my dear. It's time to do away with any final secrets

between us, don't you agree?"

"Then… the wedding will go on as planned?"

"Is there some reason it shouldn't?"

"Not at all. But a slight delay, a few months perhaps… I shall be able to think so much better in

New York—"

"You puzzle me. I'd think you'd be more eager than ever for our union. Has my past distressed

you, that fact that I killed a man?"

"I… understand your reasons."

"Now you are lying," he said. "You think that a truly civilized man could not do such a thing and

remain unsullied. Yet humans behave so all the time. Why should we be different?"

"We?"

He sighed. "I've coddled you too long, Rowena. You can't be a fit mate unless you understand

my purpose." He coiled her hair around and around his fingers. "I have always told you that I