«Yes.»
For a moment, Wolfe’s refusal didn’t register. When it did, a thin flush appeared on Raleigh’s cheekbones.
«You’re not very friendly, suh. Some would even say you’re insulting.»
Wolfe smiled.
Raleigh’s body became less relaxed.
«Just trying to save you some grief,» Wolfe said. «The trigger’s real touchy. Been known to go off for no better reason than being handed from one man to another. That would be a crying shame, too. Handsome young boy like you would surely leave broken hearts all up and down the trail. Be more weeping and wailing over your grave than when Lee turned over his sword at Appomattox.»
Raleigh stiffened. «Are you insulting the South?»
«No, but you are. Any man wearing a lieutenant’s bars on his coat should have better manners than to grab for a lady’s arm.» Without looking away from Raleigh’s angry face, Wolfe said, «Tom, help Cross-Eyed Joe get that fresh team in the traces.»
«Yessir,» the driver said.
He jammed on his hat and hurried out the door, careful not to get between Wolfe and the young man who had fought on the losing side of the War Between the States. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Raleigh’s hand began easing toward the butt of his six-gun.
Jessica’s breath came in with a rush.
«I see him,» Wolfe said before she could speak. He smiled at Raleigh again. «Don’t let all the gold and silver fool you, boy. Repeating weapons like this one shot Southern regiments to red ribbons. If you don’t believe me, go ahead and reach for that belt gun. I’ll have three bullets in you before you know what happened, and I’ll still have ten more left for your friends.»
Behind Raleigh, the men began edging for opposite ends of the table.
«I’ll shoot the next man who moves,» Wolfe said.
No one doubted him. They sat very still.
Jessica forgot to breathe as the silence stretched and stretched, plucking at her nerves more savagely than the wind. Then the young man laughed and relaxed again.
«No point getting riled,» Raleigh said easily. «I was just having some fun to pass the time waiting for the stage.»
«Going east?» Wolfe asked.
«West.»
«Next stage west will be along tomorrow about this time.»
«Tomorrow?» Raleigh said, startled. «What about the one today?»
«It’s full.»
«But only you and the girl —»
«Mywife,» Wolfe interrupted flatly.
«You’re the only ones on the damned stage!»
«Like I said. It’s full.»
Raleigh’s body tightened again.
«It’ll keep, Raleigh,» said one of the other men coldly. «If the gent with the fancy rifle wants to fight the Indians up ahead all by himself, let him. One less Yankee bastard won’t bother me none. I’ve got better game to hunt.»
Raleigh glanced unhappily at the man who had spoken, but didn’t argue.
«Your friend gave you excellent advice,» Wolfe said to Raleigh. «Here’s some more — stay inside until the stage leaves.»
Jessica didn’t wait for Wolfe to open the door for her. She didn’t want him to have to turn his back on the men in the room. Without a word, she opened the door and hurried across the cold yard to the stage. Not until she was inside did she begin to relax.
Wolfe didn’t. Inside the stagecoach, he kept the carbine across his lap and watched the station with predatory attention. No one came out.
Suddenly the driver’s whip cracked like a pistol shot, the horses jerked forward in the traces, and the stage left the station as though the wheels were on fire.
«Will they follow us?» Jessica asked tightly.
«I doubt it. Their horses are played out.» Wolfe looked from the window to the wife he hadn’t asked for, the young woman who set his body on fire, the delicate aristocrat who was utterly unsuited for the Western land he loved as he had never loved anything in his life. «You’re going to get somebody killed, your ladyship. You don’t belong out here.»
«Neither do you.»
«The hell I don’t.»
«Those men took one look at you and knew you for a stranger.»
Wolfe smiled. «No one west of the Mississippi has ever seen me dressed like this, but I was damned if I’d look like your ladyship’s roustabout. Just as well. Jericho Slater was in that bunch at the stage station. If he had recognized me, there would have been hell to pay.»
«Who is Jericho Slater?»
«One of the few surviving members of Jed Slater’s gang.»
«Why does he hate you?»
«Caleb, Reno, and I did our best to kill every one of them.» Wolfe smiled thinly. «Damn near did. My only regret is that Jericho wasn’t with them at the time. He’s as bad as Jed ever was.»
Jessica frowned. «Why were you fighting a gang of men?»
«Slater made the mistake of grabbing Willow.»
The change in Wolfe’s voice and face when he spoke Willow’s name made Jessica’s breath lock in her throat. Suddenly, she had no doubt that Willow was a woman.
«Who is she?»
Jessica’s stark question made Wolfe glance over at her.
«A woman.»
«I gathered as much.»
«A Western woman.»
«Just what does that mean?» Jessica asked tightly.
«A woman strong enough to fight beside her man if it comes to that, and soft enough to set him on fire when the fighting is over. That’s one hell of a woman.»
Jessica forced herself to keep talking, to find out more about the woman who could make Wolfe’s eyes and voice gentle when he spoke about her.
«Is that why you were so angry with me over our marriage?» Jessica asked in a strained voice. «Were you expecting to marry Willow instead?»
«Not likely. I’d have to take on Caleb Black to do that, and only a fool would take on Caleb Black,» Wolfe said dryly. «He’s an Old Testament kind of man. Not much forgiveness in him.»
«Who is Caleb Black?»
«Willow’s husband, and one of the best friends a man could have.»
Wolfe watched with interest the relief that Jessica couldn’t completely hide.
«I see,» Jessica said. She drew a deep breath before she asked the only question that really mattered to her. «Do you love Willow?»
«Be hard not to. She’s everything I ever wanted in a woman.»
Jessica felt herself going pale. Until that moment she hadn’t known how deeply she had been certain that Wolfe was hers, that he had been hers since he had plucked her from the haystack, that he would always be hers.
She had never expected Wolfe to love another woman. The pain of it was shocking. It took the world away, leaving only a blankness where each heartbeat shook her, making her dizzy.
The stagecoach lurched and bucked over a rough spot. The driver’s shouts and cracking whip vied with the rattling of the wheels to deafen the passengers. For once, Jessica was glad of the violent motion. It made further conversation unnecessary. She braced herself as best she could, closed her eyes, and wondered how she could hurt so much and show no visible wound.
Wolfe gave Jessica a hooded glance. He knew she was only pretending to sleep, for her body was too stiff and she shivered from time to time as though standing in a cold wind. She clearly didn’t have any more questions about Willow Black. It was equally clear that Jessica had no desire to hear any more on the subject of Western women.
With a rather grim smile, Wolfe tipped his hat forward over his eyes, braced his feet on the facing seat, and congratulated himself on finding a chink in the aristocratic armor surrounding Lady JessicaCharterisLonetree. He had been beginning to wonder if she had one. Her stubbornness had surprised him. He had expected her to give up and return to England long before now. She was accustomed to being waited on, to having endless rounds of teas and balls, to being protected and comforted by everyone within reach of her bewitching smile.
None of that had happened in America. Wolfe had deliberately left her alone. When that hadn’t affected her determination, he had made her go without servants, but that had been harder on him than on her. He would never forget the silky electricity of her hair clinging to him as he brushed it, or the elegant femininity of her back beneath fine lingerie as he buttoned each tiny button for her. Nor would he forget the stab of fear he had felt when he heard her scream, or the relieved laughter that had followed when he found her safe, though held prisoner by her braid.
A girl that helpless won’t last long outhere, Wolfeassured himselfsilently.TheWest requires a woman with staying power. A woman like Willow.
But it wasn’t Willow’s blond hair and hazel eyes that haunted Wolfe’s thoughts and his fitful sleep. It was a sensuous red-haired elf weeping crystal tears.
3
The silence between Wolfe and Jessica wasn’t broken until afternoon, when a young, rather pregnant woman got on board. Her single trunk had been lashed awkwardly to the boot, for Jessica’s trunks took up much of the top, even though Wolfe had decreed that only three would come on the stage with them. The rest had been put aboard a freight wagon destined for Denver.
«Thank you, sir,» said the young woman, as Wolfe handed her into the stagecoach. «I’m afraid I’m more clumsy each day.»
«It’s a difficult time,» Wolfe said, subtly eyeing the girl’s waistline. In the stagecoach’s dim interior light, she looked at least six months pregnant. «Are you traveling alone?»
The kindness in Wolfe’s voice made the girl smile shyly at her hands. «Yes, sir. I couldn’t bear being away from my husband any longer. My aunt and uncle wanted me to stay in Ohio until the baby was born, but I just couldn’t wait. My husband is stationed at Bent’s Fort, you see.»
«Then you have an even longer trip than we do. We’re going only as far as Denver.»
The girl sat down thankfully and smoothed her hands over her dress. The costume was as expensive as Jessica’s, and considerably less mussed. The girl looked barely seventeen. She was plainly uneasy at the prospect of the stage ride.
«I’ll sit up with the driver,» Wolfe said. «It will be more comfortable for you.»
«Oh, no, sir,» she said quickly, looking no higher than his chest. «It’s too raw out there for man or beast. Besides, it’s the wilderness that makes me nervous, not you. There are rumors of Indians.» She shuddered. «The thought of those murderous heathens being anywhere near me just gives me the shivers.»
Wolfe concealed his amusement.
«Not all Indians are murderous,» Jessica said. «Some are quite hospitable. I’ve spent time in their camps.»
«You were a hostage?» the girl asked, horrified and fascinated at the same time.
«Hardly. Lord Robert Stewart was a friend of the Cheyenne. We were guests.»
«I’d sooner befriend the Devil as a redskin, and that’s a fact. You can’t trust them.» She smoothed her dress again and changed the subject with transparent determination. «That’s a lovely dress, ma’am. Is it French?»
«Yes. My guardian preferred English styles, but I like the simplicity of the new French fashions.»
The girl looked quickly at Wolfe, wondering if he was the guardian in question.
«My husband,» Jessica added, stressing the word lightly, «prefers no style at all. Isn’t that correct, Mr.Lonetree?»
«There’s little use for silks and foolishness in the West, Lady Jessica.»
«Lady?» said the girl quickly. «Then you’re English?»
Jessica bit back the temptation to correct the girl. «Close enough.»
«A true titled lady?» the girl persisted.
«Not here,» Jessica said. «Here I am Mrs.Lonetree.»
«I’m Mrs. O’Conner.» The girl hesitated. «Lonetreeis an unusual name.»
«The true name is Tree That Stands Alone, butLonetree is easier for most people,» Wolfe said.
«It sounds Indian.»
«It is.»
The girl’s face paled. She stared at Wolfe, noticing for the first time the man beneath the expensive city clothes.
«Dear Lord, you’re a redskin!»
«Sometimes,» he agreed. «Sometimes I’m an over-civilized citizen of the British Empire. Most of the time I’m just a Western man.»
The young Mrs. O’Conner made a low, unhappy sound and began twisting her handkerchief between trembling fingers. She looked everywhere in the coach but at Wolfe.
Wolfe sighed, settled his hat more firmly on his head, and reached for the door of the bouncing coach. When the door was opened wide, he braced himself in the doorway and reached for the luggage railing that ran around the top of the coach.
"Only Mine" отзывы
Отзывы читателей о книге "Only Mine". Читайте комментарии и мнения людей о произведении.
Понравилась книга? Поделитесь впечатлениями - оставьте Ваш отзыв и расскажите о книге "Only Mine" друзьям в соцсетях.