Texas Rose TH2 (38 page)

Daniel looked pointedly at the fire iron. "Not if Tyler told you to come here, too, you're not. Sit down and wait for him to explain."

"He's not here!" Evie cried. "I have to find them. I don't know what's going on, but I can find them. I'll be fine. Just let me by."

The sheriff interfered. "Now Mrs. Peyton, I'm sure Tyler will be here in a minute. You just sit down and relax and everything will be just dandy."

A shot echoed in the street outside.

Daniel swung and nearly toppled as Evie shoved past him. Carmen bit back a scream and clutched Maria. Cursing, the sheriff physically removed Evie from his doorway and stepped out to the boardwalk.

Standing in the center of the street were two of the gang that had escaped earlier. And in their hands were Manuel, Jose, and two smoking guns. Tyler was nowhere to be seen.

Chapter 29

Murderous rage pumped through Tyler's veins as he gazed down from the hotel roof to the scene below. He'd grabbed his rifle on the way up, and his hands clenched it with years of familiarity. He knew what the weapon felt like in his hands, how it sounded when it went off, the destruction it would wreak when it did. He knew it all too well. The years telescoped to nothing, and he was a terrified, furious boy again, holding a rifle in ambush. Sweat greased his palms as he lifted the weapon into position.

Jose and Manuel struggled futilely in the arms of their captors. That fact alone made Tyler see red. Grown men terrorizing helpless innocents had that effect. His finger itched on the trigger as he lined up his shot.

They wanted him. He could hear their shouts. Tyler wished for a real Pecos Martin right now. But he knew damned well that for some insane reason, these bastards thought he was Pecos Martin, and they wanted him dead. Every word carried clearly. He could go down there and maybe they'd drop the boys. Maybe.

He hadn't ever wanted to get involved again. He didn't want to do this now. He knew what would happen. Something in him was screaming in denial as he took aim. But it had to be done, just like last time.

Without a shadow of a doubt of his ability to wreak destruction, Tyler squeezed the trigger. A shrill scream echoed up from the street. Taking the time to adjust his aim for the chaos erupting, he pulled the trigger a second time.

The boys were breaking free and running. He could see Ben grabbing them and jerking them back under cover. The sheriff was headed this way, Evie close on his heels. Tyler pulled the trigger again. The bastards weren't dead yet.

Fury flew through his veins. He wouldn't let them get away with this. Tyler watched as one man got up and limped for his horse. His finger closed over the trigger. It felt good again. He could feel the power whipping through him. Should he take the bastard's ear off? Go for the heart? How about a long, excruciating death with a shot to the belly? Savagely, he pulled the trigger and watched the man stagger and fall.

Only the vision of Evie running down the street, her gaze scanning the rooftops stopped him from finding the second man in his sights. She avoided looking at the bloodied men lying in the street. She couldn't even look at what he had done. Anguish hurtled up at him through her eyes and ears. Not until then did Tyler lower the rifle.

* * *

The shooting had stopped. Keeping her cries and screams inside, Evie ran up on the porch and grabbed the boys from Ben, wrapping her arms around both of them at once and hugging as hard as she could. The sound of shots still rang in her ears. She couldn't stop hearing the boys' anguished cries for help. She wouldn't look at the carnage behind her.

Tyler had done that. She knew it deep down in her soul without even looking at Ben. She didn't know if there could have been a better way of doing it. She didn't know anything except the boys were alive and in her arms.

Tears rolled down her face, and Manuel had wriggled free of her embrace by the time Carmen and Daniel made it down the street. Jonathan Hale hurried down from his office to help Evie stand up and to steady her. He murmured reassuring words and tried to steer her in the direction of the hotel lobby. She scarcely even knew he was there.

She waited for Tyler, but he didn't come. Horror and fear wove a suffocating web around her heart. The sheriff was busy rounding up the injured man and giving orders for taking care of the dead one. Daniel and Carmen held the boys firmly in hand. A crowd had started filling the street. But still Tyler didn't come.

She glanced at Ben. His dark face was expressionless, but he gave a curt nod toward the hotel door. Then he stepped forward to usher the children out of the crowd and toward the alley.

That was all the signal Evie needed. Shaking herself free from Hale's sympathetic embrace, she picked up her skirt and headed for the hotel lobby under her own sails, leaving the lawyer behind. By the time he followed her in, she was halfway up the stairs. He called after her, but she ignored him.

She knew where Tyler's room was. She had seen him standing in the window, watching over the house late at night. There had been times she had been tempted to go to him, but she knew the physical realities of romance now, and she had resisted. She wanted more than he had to offer.

But she didn't give a fig for reality right now. She didn't know where Tyler was, but he needed her. She could feel the need welling up inside her. His cries echoed in her ears with their silence. He should be down there now, giving explanations to the sheriff, reassuring the boys, holding her. But he wasn't. He was hiding somewhere in this hotel, avoiding what he had done. That wasn't the Tyler she knew. Something was wrong.

She knocked on his door and got a muffled curse in reply. He was in there. Setting her jaw, Evie threw open the door.

Tyler was sitting on the bed, calmly cleaning his rifle. When he looked at her, his eyes were perfectly blank. That terrified her more than anything else he could have done. Tyler's eyes always danced with mischief and laughter or darkened with fury and anguish. They never stared blankly.

Heart plummeting to her stomach, Evie closed the door behind her and moved into the room.

"You'd better leave, Mrs. Peyton." Tyler snapped the rifle shut and began to wipe down the outside with a rag.

"Why? Will you shoot me if I don't?"

That brought a thread of fury to his eyes. His gaze hardened as it drifted over Evie's schoolmarmish gown. She had quit wearing her fancy silks and laces in preference for the practicality of cotton, but the high-necked gown did nothing to disguise her figure. Tyler's knowing gaze reminded her of things she didn't want to remember.

"If you mean to stay, I can think of better things to do with you than shoot." He set the rifle aside and stood up.

Evie supposed she was supposed to feel threatened. She didn't. Perhaps she was mad, after all. She stepped closer to meet him.

Tyler's fingers tightened into fists. "Don't, Evie. Get out of here while you can."

"I won't." She was close enough to smell the sweat on him. On other men, it might be unpleasant, but not on Tyler. She inhaled the masculine musk with the scent of his shaving soap, and she wanted to peel his shirt off and get closer. Her fingers itched to touch his skin. She clenched them as he was clenching his.

"We have an agreement, Evie. Don't make me break it." Tyler's muscles tensed with the effort to keep from reaching for her.

She didn't even have to think about her response. A lifetime of reading novels made it instantaneous. When the one you loved was hurting, you reached out for him. She had never been given that opportunity in her life. She grabbed it now.

Evie slid her arms around his waist and hugged Tyler until he clutched her close and she could lean her head against his chest and hear his heart beat. She heard his muffled groan, sensed his rejection, but still she clung. She wasn't letting him go until she was inside his skin.

Tyler held her as if she were a lifeline. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and waist and pressed her body into his until there wasn't an inch of space between them. Along with the cinnamon and roses of her bathing soap, he could smell the vanilla on her hands from her baking and the heated woman scent of her as their bodies ignited. He held himself stiff and straight as he stared at the wall, but he couldn't let her go.

"Evie, you have to get out. I don't want you to see that side of me again. I don't want you hurt."

"I wasn't hurt last time, Tyler. You didn't hurt me. Tell me what's wrong. Talk to me, Tyler." Evie dug her fingers into his shirt as if she would start to bare his soul by baring his body.

"What do you want me to say that you haven't just seen? I'm a killer, Evie. I kill people. I'm very good at it, if you didn't notice. I've been practicing since I was a boy. Ben says some people have a talent for writing or painting or riding horses. I've got a talent for hitting targets. I could shoot better than my brothers before I was ten. I used to amuse myself by shooting peaches off of trees and letting Ben catch them. And then I grew up and went to war and learned to shoot people."

Evie did find a button with her teeth then. She jerked it open and found the salt of his skin beneath her lips . Tyler shuddered as she kissed him there, but he didn't release his rigid stance.

"I thought you said you spent most of the war in prison." If her kisses wouldn't do it, her words would have to. She began to nibble at the base of his throat.

He ought to fling her from him, but the warmth replacing the ice in his veins felt too good. He'd used this form of solace before, knew how well it worked, and he wanted it. He wanted Evie. But he couldn't have her. He steeled himself and hoped she would understand.

"I did, after taking out a squad of Union soldiers who'd captured my brother. I was holed up in the rocks where they couldn't reach me, and I just picked them off, one by one. I must have killed a dozen of them; they couldn't avoid me. I finally ran out of ammunition. And they still had my brother. He died in prison. So I accomplished nothing. I met the brother of one of the men I'd killed later. He wasn't any different from Michael. We could have been friends if he'd worn a different uniform. Do you understand any of this, Evie?"

"No. I don't want to. You did what you had to do to save your brother. Why are you blaming yourself?"

Her cunning teeth had nipped another button and now his shirt was spread wide. Tyler felt her lips nibbling at his nipple, and a livid streak of desire shot through him. He was only a man. He could resist only so much. His fingers found the hooks at the back of her dress.

"I killed a dozen good men, Evie. Killed them. Shot them in cold blood. I aimed and fired and reloaded and kept on killing until I ran out of ammunition. It was like there was someone else inside me, some savage beast lusting for blood. I couldn't stop. Even when I knew it was useless, I cried and aimed and fired again. I was seventeen years old, Evie, and I wanted to be dead."

Tyler could feel her shivering in his arms; he didn't know whether from passion or fear. The back of her gown gaped open, but all he could touch was her corset. He wished for a knife to cut the damned strings. Instead, he started pulling the pins from her hair.

"You wanted to save your brother." Her imagination was too vivid not to picture the scene. She closed her eyes and concentrated on feeling.

"I had to save him. He was the oldest. He was the only one who could save the plantation. I couldn't do it. Nobody had ever taught me how. I was the baby. If Michael died, everything was lost. But I couldn't stop him from dying any more than I could stop from losing the plantation. A dozen men died for nothing. I put my gun away and swore never to be put in that position again. And now look what you're doing to me."

She was pulling his shirt from his pants and running her hands up his back, but that wasn't what he meant. Defiantly, she released him and jerked her arms from her bodice, pulling the gown down to her waist. Her hands began working at the ties holding it over her petticoats. Her corset pushed her breasts up until they strained at the edge of her chemise. Tyler stared down into the valley between and felt what remained of his control slipping away. His fingers reached of their own accord for her corset strings.

The contraption sprang open as he released the ribbons. He took an edge in each hand and ripped it wide, flinging the lace and bones across the room. Evie stared at him wide-eyed, but he had warned her.