Twilight in Texas (7 page)

A cry caught in her throat, drowned by sudden tears. “Maybe I shouldn’t have insisted on coming west.” She mumbled the words between sobs. “I’d hoped to prolong his life, if only by weeks or even days. I didn’t think I’d be heading for trouble.”

An avalanche of feelings bombarded Wolf’s heart. He fought to keep from reaching for her. She’d never left his thoughts, and now she was so close. She didn’t have to tell him her only friend was dying. Wolf had already seen the signs.

She buried her face against his leg. Her silent sobs rocked them both. “I can’t go back to my life in Philadelphia,” she whispered. “And there’s no place for me here.”

The sorrow in her words brought the loneliness of his own life into focus. He lost the battle to keep his distance.

With one mighty sweep, he pulled her into his arms. He held her tightly against him, knowing he’d fight any dragon for this woman, but unsure how to help her now.

She pressed her face against his chest and cried softly, as she hadn’t cried since the year her father
died. All her dreams of coming to Texas and making Ephraim better and starting a new life were crumbling.

Wolf cradled her in his arms, realizing the feel of her would be forever burned into his flesh. He’d told himself he would never touch her. He was happy to be just her friend. It was better this way. She had no room for him in her life. If she knew who he was, she’d probably hate him.

But she needed him to hold her as no one in his life had ever needed him. She needed him there, not as a lover, but as a friend.

Could he touch her like this and be that…only that?

Maybe the gods were punishing him for not going back to her after the war. He told himself it would have been impossible, but had he let his pride rule the day and not his heart? Maybe if he’d found her when the war ended, she would have understood. Maybe even accepted that he’d had his reasons for fighting for the South, for being a spy, for lying.

His hand cupped the side of her face. Warm tears trickled between his fingers. “I’m here, Molly, I’m here.”

She wasn’t listening.

He rocked her gently in his arms and smiled. In a few minutes, she’d be all stiff and proper again, probably apologizing for letting her emotions run wild. And then he’d try to convince her it didn’t matter. He planned to be here for her.

But as her sobs became sniffles, she didn’t pull away. Instead she relaxed in his embrace. He thought of saying something but couldn’t think of anything. He figured saying nothing was better than voicing the wrong words. He didn’t have to tell her people died. She knew all too well, as he did. Reminding her Ephraim was old didn’t seem polite, and talking of Heaven was a little premature since the man snored only a room away.

He held her gently, ready to let her go whenever she wanted as she settled against his chest like a cat curling into a basket. The step above where he sat pushed into his back, but he hardly noticed.

Finally, Molly straightened slightly, smoothing his tear-stained shirt with her fingers. “It appears you’re holding more than my hand, Captain.”

Wolf raised her off his lap and returned her to the step beside him. “I hope you won’t misread my action.”

She smiled. “I can’t read a trail the day it’s made, and I’ve never been able to tell if a man’s lying by his eyes. But I promise you, Captain, I’ll try never to misread your actions.”

Her hand covered his as it had in the cafe. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he answered.

They were getting used to one another, he thought. Not just how they talked or what each thought about, but how it felt to be near. He’d watched couples who were balanced in one another’s company. They were like a paired set of horses. They moved in harmony with one other. Even their steps matched as they walked.

He’d never known that with a woman…until now.

A lantern moved past the windows facing the street, then another, and another, until the lamp lights formed a chain like a bright centipede moving along the road.

Wolf braced himself to stand. “Looks like we’re about to have company.”

Molly’s gentle touch stilled his progress. “Let me handle it,” she whispered. “Please stay here unless I need you.”

Words log-piled in his throat. She didn’t know how rough strangers could be in this part of the country. She was a woman going up against what looked to be a dozen men descending on her place. He
wanted to protect her. But all he could do was nod, for he didn’t trust himself to speak.

Wolf sank into the shadows of the stairs as Miller, the undertaker, opened the door. The little man ushered several others into the store with the formality of a sergeant-at-arms at a town meeting.

Wolf pressed deeper into the darkness where he could watch and wait in case Molly needed him. She would only have to breathe his name, and he’d be by her side.

Miller nodded continuously when he spotted Molly as if pointing her out with his head to the others.

“Good, good.” He hurried forward. “You’re here.”

Wolf couldn’t help but admire how calmly Molly faced the crowd. He could see a touch of her father in her.

“The store’s closed,” Molly began. “I’ll have to ask you gentlemen to leave.”

She lied, Wolf thought. There wasn’t a gentleman among them.

The undertaker nervously took the lead. “We’ve not come to buy, Miss Molly. We’ve got other business.”

“Get to the point,” a stranger in black ordered. The outline of a rifle showed beneath his duster, and his boots chimed the jingle of spurs.

Miller’s chin pushed forward as if he needed to stretch his neck in order to get words out. “Yes, well.” He took a step toward Molly. “We’ve come to ask you to leave.”

“But I don’t—” Molly began.

The little man interrupted. “We’ve got together enough money to pay you a fair price for the shop.”

“Are you the cowards who painted my door?” Molly stared at the men.

Miller’s denial came too fast. “Of course not! The painters make it plain, however, that we’re not the only ones who want you gone.”

“A woman shouldn’t be trying to run a business alone.” The black-clad man took a step forward. “You don’t belong here interfering in our town and its laws. Anyone can see if you stay, there’ll be nothing but trouble. Go back up north, where you came from.”

“There’s more to this than my being a woman or from the North.” Molly could tell by the way Miller’s eyes enlarged slightly that she was right, but no man spoke.

“Take our offer,” Miller almost begged now. “There’s no one to protect you against the mischief that’s bound to come if you keep voicing your opinion. A woman who talks is about as useless as a crowing hen.”

Several of the men laughed.

“I’ll not take your offer or remain quiet about the poison being sold in the alleys,” Molly answered coldly. “I’m staying, so I guess you’ll just have to get used to me.”

Wolf fought the urge to join her, but she’d made it plain this was her battle, not his.

She stood like a statue as the men left one by one. Miller mumbled that he’d try again tomorrow, but the others remained silent. The man with the spurs walked with heavy steps, leaving an echoing chink after he’d gone.

She stood watching the lanterns move away from her door. Wolf stepped up behind, almost touching her but not quite daring to.

“They’ll be back,” he said an inch from her ear. “You’re right. They want you out, but it makes no Sense. Other women run businesses here in Austin. Lord knows we got a bushelful of Northerners walking the streets.”

“They won’t speak of the real reason. But somehow I feel there is something that makes it very important that I go.”

Wolf spread his large hand along the small of her back, touching her so lightly he wasn’t sure she even knew of his caress.

She leaned back slightly into the warmth of his hand. “It’s hard to fight when I’m unsure where the enemy stands.”

Closing his eyes, Wolf breathed deeply of the fragrance of her hair. She smelled of lavender and rose water. The battle he fought with himself to keep from holding her seemed far greater than her conflict with the town.

This wasn’t some woman he’d just met. This was his Molly, the girl he’d loved for years. The one he’d measured every woman against all his life, it seemed. The only woman whose lips he could remember the taste of after eight long years. He’d given his heart to her that day on the train station platform, and he couldn’t withdraw it just because worlds forced them apart.

Wolf tried to forget about her nearness and think of how she’d react if he revealed his identity. Would she hate him for his lie? Or worse yet, had she forgotten the day that meant so much to him?

“Did you ever think of marrying?” The words were out of his mouth before he thought to stop them.

She stepped away. “Are you asking or offering, Captain?”

Wolf cleared his throat. “I was just thinking that if you had a husband, these men might back off. Coming over to frighten a woman is one thing, but these didn’t look like the type to face a man equally.”

“You’re right. Miller even loses his bravery when Ephraim is in the room.” She straightened her back. “But to answer your question, no. I never plan to marry.”

Wolf faced the windows. He didn’t think he knew her well enough to ask her why. “Nor do I,” he responded. “I guess some people weren’t meant to be married. I’m never in one place for more than a few days. It wouldn’t be fair to give a woman my name and nothing else.”

She didn’t answer but seemed lost in her own thoughts. He mumbled his good night and listened just outside the door until he was sure she’d locked up.

“Sleep well, my Molly,” he whispered as he walked away. “I’ll be near if you need me.”

J
UST AFTER DAWN
, W
OLF POURED HIS FIRST CUP
of coffee. It had been a long night. With Austin’s small police force, rangers were often called in as backup and last night had been one of those times. Voters across the state had decided Austin would be the capital, not Houston. Sam Houston had fought hard to move the state offices to his namesake. From the early counts it looked like Houston Town had lost. The folks in Austin celebrated throughout the night. If Wolf were a betting man, he’d guess half the population was drunk right now.

The sound of gunfire suddenly echoed down the street from the direction of Molly’s place. The shots came in rapid fire, the way only a gunslinger knew how to fan a weapon. Wolf was out the door and running toward the drugstore before the other rangers could lift their Colts from the pegs by the door.

The men sounded like a herd of buffalo storming a canyon as they thundered down the street with Wolf in the lead.

The drunken gunslinger outside Molly’s store never saw the mountain of muscle coming. Wolf was airborne when he plowed into the man like a fully steamed train without brakes.

One round of gunfire, aimed skyward, resounded off the buildings as both men hit the dirt at full force.

Only one got up. Wolf.

Josh Weston was a few steps behind Wolf and almost tripped over the men before he could stop. He glanced at the gunfighter, then at his captain. “What happened?”

“Arrest him.” Wolf shoved his toe against the man’s side. “When he wakes up, charge him with disturbing the peace. I’ll check on Molly and Callie Ann.”

Josh nodded as he grabbed the criminal’s arm and lifted him over one shoulder. It was too early in the morning to argue with the captain, but he tried. “This drunk will be out by noon on such a minor charge. If we made everyone in town serve time in jail for firing a weapon in the city limits we wouldn’t have room for all the criminals.”

Wolf showed no sign of listening as he dusted himself off.

Josh gave it another try. “And drinking is hardly unusual in Austin. The city fathers back in eighteen fifty had to pass an ordinance requiring their policemen to stay sober on the job.”

Wolf never looked back as he stepped onto the walk in front of the drugstore. “Molly!” he shouted in a voice that would have awakened anyone who slept through the gunfire.

When she didn’t answer, he jerked the door open. Callie Ann jumped into his arms and scrambled to his shoulder like an organ grinder’s monkey. “The man was shooting at us,” she cried. “He tried to
kill us all.”

Wolf held her tightly. In her cotton gown, she looked even smaller than she had yesterday. “It’s going to be all right, Princess.”

Molly stood at the bottom of the stairs. Her hair was in a long braid, and she wore only a nightgown. She held herself as calmly and regally as a queen.

“I think the man was shooting at the bottles,” she said without emotion, slowly lowering the Navy Colt in her hand. “He wasn’t trying to harm us.”

Wolf glanced at the shattered glass scattered across the floor. He carried Callie Ann to the stairs and set her on the third step. “Run up there and get some shoes on,” he ordered. “The trouble’s over for now.”

Callie Ann began hopping up each step like a rabbit. “I’ll wash and comb my hair like I’m supposed to do before I come back down to breakfast.”

She disappeared around the landing. Wolf turned to Molly. “You’ll need shoes, too,” he teased.