The Outsider (23 page)

“There is one other person he might listen to.” He fixed a long stare on Dodge.

Dodge laughed. “Oh, he’d rather shoot me than listen to a word I said.”

“I meant your wife.”

“Starla?”

“If she was to talk to him, maybe he’d see reason.

“You can ask her.”

Deacon pursed his lips. “She’s never cared much for me. It would be better if you asked her.” His gaze slid to Dodge on that silky suggestion.

On the surface, it didn’t sound too unreasonable a thing to ask. Then the connotations sank deeper through the haze of alcohol to kindle a slow-burning ire.

“No.”

Confused, Deacon was ready to argue when Dodge came off the sofa, his teeth gritted against the pain and the insult.

“I will not use my wife and her family to further my business or your ambitions. Tyler Fairfax may be scum on your little pond, but he’s Starla’s brother and I have to respect her feelings for him. I don’t have a problem with you pleading your case to her, but I’m not going to place her between me and Tyler. There are certain things I value more than my business, Sinclair. If you felt the same way, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Dodge didn’t wait for Deacon to rage at him. He angled out of the study and into the hall, bellowing, “Starla, we’re leaving.”

She and Patrice came running, alarmed by his display of temper.

“What’s wrong?” Starla asked in a low aside.

“It’s time to go. Patrice, thank your mother for her hospitality and say good night to Reeve for me.” He was out the door before Starla, racing after him, had time to question him further.

Their carriage was halfway down the drive before she dared put a staying hand on his arm.

“Dodge, what happened?”

Tension spasmed through his jaw, but he said nothing. He whipped the horse up to a greater speed, the ride growing bumpy and precarious.

“Dodge, what’s wrong? Tony, talk to me!”

He glanced at her then, surprised by her use of his abbreviated name. “It shouldn’t involve you.”

“Oh. I see.” But the coldness in her tone said she didn’t.

“It’s business, Starla, and should stay business.”

“Of course.” She looked straight ahead, her fine profile a chiseled perfection of hauteur.

Dodge cursed fiercely to himself. “It has to do with your brother and Deacon Sinclair. Sinclair wanted me to stick you in the middle of it and I refused. It didn’t make him very happy with me.”

“What’s Tyler done?”

“Starla, I don’t want to drag you into this.”

She gave him a stern look.

“Deacon was desperate for money and borrowed it from your brother, using the mortgage to his properties as collateral. Now Tyler’s threatening to sell and he won’t let Deacon buy the mortgage back.”

“So
that’s
what he’s been up to. Why would he want to steal their home from them?”

Dodge shrugged. “I don’t know. All that was going on before I got here.”

“Why didn’t Deacon just borrow the money from you and the bank to begin with?”

“You know Deacon….”

“He’s arrogant, prideful, and sometimes so stupid you wouldn’t think he had a brilliant mind. To gamble his home, his history.” She shook her head, mystified. Then her expression sharpened. “And Deacon wanted me to go to Tyler to get him to do the right thing.”

“That’s about it.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

“Because he’s your brother, Star. And I’m your husband. And this is business, not a personal matter. I didn’t want to put you in the position of having to choose between us. You told me you wouldn’t let me, and I won’t.”

She stared at him, stunned to think he’d protect her feelings over his profits. And she told him quietly, “Sometimes I like the chance to do the right thing. I’ve no fondness for Deacon Sinclair, but his family practically raised me at that house and I don’t want Tyler to tear it from them on some petty whim. I’ll talk to him.”

“Only if that’s what
you
want to do, Starla.”

“It is.” She touched his arm again. “And thank you for not pushing your choice on me.” She wondered if he realized how much the gesture meant to her. It gave her a sense of value she’d never known before, raising her above his business, his earnings, and his customers in a way her father would never have done for his family. He amazed her by taking that stand.

And she loved him for doing it.

The carriage wheels struck a deep rut in the road, sending them off the seat to land with spine-shattering impact. Dodge’s hoarse cry had Starla
turning toward him just as he pressed the reins upon her.

“Take these,” he groaned, sliding off the seat to his knees in the carriage’s boot.

“Dodge?” She wrestled for control of the horse, guiding the animal to a standstill and looping the reins about the whip post so she could give full attention to her husband.

He was in pain. Why hadn’t she seen that at dinner? Why hadn’t she guessed that he was using the Sinclairs’ fine liquor to quench not a thirst, but the fires of agony?

“What can I do?” She touched his shoulders, feeling frightened and helpless.

“Nothing,” he said through gritted teeth. “It comes and goes.
Ahhh … God!”
He glanced at her, seeing her alarm, and managed a strained smile. “I’m sorry. Don’t be scared. It just gets to be a little more than I can handle at times.”

“Let me get you to the doctor.” She started reaching for the reins.

“No. There’s nothing he can do.” He leaned against her knees and she was quick to support him with the wrap of her arms. “Just have to work through it.”

“You need to lie down.”

“No. If I don’t keep moving, everything stiffens up. I can’t bend …
God
… I’m sorry.”

She held him while his hands clenched in the bright silk and lace of her skirt. Holding him steady within the curl of one arm, she picked up the reins with the other.

“Hang on for just a minute longer. I’ve got an idea.”

He half-lay across her lap, nearly swooning in and out of consciousness. He was dimly aware that they’d left the main road but was not sure of their destination until she asked, “Do you think you can stand?”

He looked around through the veil of pain, surprised to see she’d brought them to a pond. “Why are we here?”

“I thought the water might make it easier for you by supporting your weight and taking the strain off your back.”

Simple yet brilliant. Why had he never thought of it?

She hopped down from the buggy, then extended her hands to him, coaxing, “Come on. I’m not that delicate.”

With plenty of effort they managed to wrestle him down from the buggy and over to the wrought-iron table and chairs by the water’s edge.

“We used to come here as children. Tyler taught Patrice and me how to swim under the moonlight after we sneaked out of our rooms. It was Reeve and Jonah’s favorite fishing hole, too. It doesn’t look very big, but it’s deep. Can you swim?”

“Usually.” It was his way of saying he wasn’t sure if he could manage it in his present state.

“I’ll go in with you, then.”

She presented him with the back of her gown, and when he’d worked his way down that row of maddening hooks, she released the tape on her hoops so they’d collapse on the ground, then let
the weight of the voluminous skirt carry the gown after it.

Starla Fairfax Dodge, bathed in moonlight and clad in only her chemise and drawers, was all the anesthesia he required.

With her tiny feet bare and her slight form wearing little more than the wrap of his arm about her shoulders, Starla stepped into the tranquil water, gasping at its sudden chill. Just as she’d said, the bottom dropped away rapidly, and soon they were immersed to their armpits.

“Now, just float and let yourself relax. I’ll hold onto you.”

He placed himself in her hands, letting his body become buoyant, supported by the prop of her palms beneath his shoulders. He let his head rest on the cushion of her bosom and his legs ride the gentle current, closing his eyes, consciously disconnecting himself from the knot of pain in his back. And gradually it eased, allowing him to move his feet in slow kicks.

“Better?”

He opened his eyes to see Starla’s face outlined by the heavens, her beauty outshining them. The pain of his injury became nothing compared to the pain of her indifference.

But if she was indifferent, would she be shoulder-deep in water, tending him with tender ministrations? She’d shaken the walls of those glorious heavens with her silken touch and her sensuous kisses. Again he felt the sharp stab of jealousy for whomever had taught her to wring such pleasure from a man. But he wondered now,
as he’d wondered then, if any man had shown her a reciprocal paradise.

He didn’t think so.

And on this deep-starred night, beneath the heaviness of a harvest moon, he vowed not another day would pass without her knowing exactly what it meant to be loved.

Chapter 17

There was tremendous satisfaction in feeling her husband’s discomfort ebb away. Gradually the tension drained from his shoulders and the creases smoothed around his closed eyes. His breathing altered from harsh snatches to deep sighs of relief as he began to tread water on his own. She continued to support him, not because he needed it, but because she was rewarded by the connection.

No man had ever depended upon her before.

No man had ever said he loved her before, either, no one except her mother, just before she’d disappeared. She’d had but a fleeting time to experience that love, and now she was afraid to when the chance came again.

She didn’t want to love the man she’d married. She didn’t want to be drawn into caring about him, into feeling his pain, into sharing his dreams, because if she lost him, she’d die. It was that simple.

“I want you to go back to the doctor in the morning.”

Dodge didn’t open his eyes. “I already told you there’s nothing he can do. If it were up to him, I’d
be in a wheelchair or under his knife. But dead either way, to my thinking.”

“Then we’ll go to another doctor. Pride’s a small town.”

“Reeve already had two of the country’s best specialists come down. They said the same thing. To take the bullet out would probably leave me dead or totally paralyzed. But leaving it in’s like carrying around an unexploded bomb. They said it was my life and up to me how I wanted to spend it, sitting safely in a chair, or pushing the limits as far as I can stand it. Some days I can stand it better than others.”

“You could die.”

Starla realized the impact of the words for the first time. She’d never given much thought to his injury, thinking of him as working his way through a slow recovery. But never had she considered the danger he was in with that bullet nudged up against his spine.

She spun away from him. Without her support, water closed over his head in a rush. He came up sputtering, splashing after the figure of his wife.

“Starla. Starla.” He caught her arm, but she refused to be turned toward him.

“You didn’t tell me you could die. You never told me that.” Her voice was thin with shock and shaking with anger and accusation. “Let me go. Let me go!” That last sobbed from her, and with it went her resistance.

He swung her around, getting only a glimpse of her tear-streaked face before crushing her to his chest. “You don’t have to worry, Starla. I’ve already
made sure you and the baby will be taken care of, should anything happen to me.”

That knowledge should have taken the fear away, but somehow it didn’t come close. Her palms slapped against his shoulders, levering for distance as she cried, “Do you think that’s what I care about? What’ll happen to me if you’re gone?”

He stared at her blankly, not understanding why she was so wildly upset. Until she took his face between her hands and kissed him hard enough to drown him in a sea of unexpected sensation by the time she jumped back.

They regarded each other in breathless surprise.

“You should have told me,” Starla said at last, the edge of accusation back in her voice.

“I never thought to; I’m sorry. I guess I just accepted the risks and didn’t give them a second thought.” His gaze searched her face, seeking the meaning behind that fierce, unplanned kiss.

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t have been so ready to accept them. I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever cared for. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have—”

“Married me?” Dodge supplied tersely.

“Wouldn’t have let myself care about you,” she concluded. “You lied to me.”

Which meant she
did
care. It was more of an admission than he’d expected her to make. Which left him in the delicate position of talking his way out of the fact that he’d hurt her.

“You can stop caring about me now if you want to. I guess I’d deserve that.” And the hint of a smile he gave her made her temper soar, as if he
were daring her to try to shut him out of her heart at this late date.

“I should hate you,” she complained.

“That would solve everything, wouldn’t it?”

She scowled and pouted, refusing to look at him until his fingertips skimmed under her jaw to tilt her head up, coaxing eye contact.

“I’m not planning to die anytime soon, Starla. Unless it’s from pneumonia standing out here in this damn freezing water.”

A smile teased about her lips. “It’s not that cold.”

“Then you do care about me?”

“Maybe a little,” was her grudging claim. “Although you’re a damn Yankee and a banker to boot.”

It was all the reassurance Dodge needed. He leaned toward her. Initially, she angled her face away, but when he paused, making no attempt to push himself on her, Starla turned back and lifted up for the reacquainting warmth of his kiss.

The marvelous thing about water was the way it held Dodge up, making it possible for him to stand on his own, to put both arms about his wife and pull her tight against him to feel the perfection of fit from lips to toes. Chilled nipples made indentations upon his chest, but the water wasn’t cold enough to extinguish his ardor. There was no way for her not to feel it growing, with only the wet hug of his drawers and her filmy underthings to disguise the hard rise of his interest. She didn’t pull back, but he could feel the way her breathing changed into quick little panicked snatches.