Authors: Jill Gregory
Tags: #fiction, #romance, #adventure, #historical romance, #sensuous, #western romance, #jill gregory
His words filled her with alarm, but that
only made her more determined. “I’m not going anywhere without you
and Tommy,” Juliana informed him.
“Course you’re not.” Wade flicked her cheek
with his finger. “So wait here like a good girl and we’ll celebrate
like blazes tonight when this thing is over.”
Skunk sighed dramatically. “My one chance to
be alone with a beautiful gal and she’d rather get shot at than
stay with me.”
Everyone laughed—except Juliana.
He sent her such a beseeching glance that she
relented with a tiny, reluctant smile. “Well, I suppose someone has
to keep an eye on Josie and Kevin, after all. And make sure you
don’t burn the biscuits.”
Wade turned to Gil Keedy. “You all set? Seems
to me you’ve got the most dangerous part in all this.”
“Pshaw. I reckon I can drop a hint in those
varmints’ ears and get back in one piece,” Gil smiled,
unconcerned.
“Well, be careful. Yancy, get together the
equipment you’re going to need.” Wade was already moving to his
pack, checking it for supplies and ammunition. While a bee buzzed
in through the open window, then zoomed out again into the summer
heat, Tommy and Gray Feather did the same.
Suddenly, Juliana realized that Cole had
disappeared from the cabin. When had that happened? He’d been there
when Wade had first started explaining the day’s plan, and she
hadn’t even noticed him slip away.
“Where’s Cole?” Her voice sounded loud to her
own ears.
She hurried to the window and peered out.
Arrow was gone, too.
Wade replied calmly, “He wanted to start out
ahead of the rest of us. Don’t worry, we’ll meet up with him.”
He hadn’t said good-bye. Emptiness settled in
the pit of her stomach, cold and heavy as a great stone. What if he
never came back?
What if none of them came back? She watched
in growing trepidation as her brothers readied themselves for the
day’s confrontation. They didn’t know if they’d be facing one
man—or ten. Juliana shuddered. She couldn’t lose either of them.
And she couldn’t lose Cole either.
Clammy fear possessed her as she watched them
ride off.
Finding herself alone in the cabin with Skunk
and the breakfast dishes, worry knotted her stomach. She came to
the realization that by the time sunset came to Fire Mesa, she
could very possibly have lost them all.
* * *
Line McCray was pacing up and down Belle
Mallory’s carpet when Knife Jackson ran up the front steps of the
boardinghouse and banged open the front door.
“Word in town has it that Joseph Wells is
selling out to Cole Rawdon. Today,” he announced, fairly exploding
with the news.
“What?” McCray choked back a string of
epithets. What else could go wrong? Fire Mesa must not be allowed
to slip through his fingers. It was the prize piece of land in this
entire territory. He was going to build his ranch there—a ranch to
rival John Breen’s legendary Twin Oaks. Not to mention the railroad
that was to be built through one section of it in a deal already
negotiated, guaranteed to bring him a small fortune. McCray’s fury
zeroed in on that wishy-washy fool Joseph Wells. He had enough to
think about trying to guard his damned payroll tomorrow, without
having to whip Wells back into line as well. He was certain the
Montgomery gang was planning to hit the gold shipment, but he
didn’t have a clue as to where or when. All he knew was that he
couldn’t let them get away with another holdup. He’d be a
laughingstock if he did—and it would be damned hard to meet the
month’s expenses without that gold.
The Montgomerys had to be stopped. And when
he had them, he’d make them pay for all the trouble they’d cost
him—and for stealing that widow woman right out from under his
nose. McCray couldn’t understand how a bunch of second-rate outlaws
could outwit a man of his resources—but somehow they had. Luckily,
John Breen was in the picture now. It was Breen who had recommended
they post men in all the saloons, waiting and listening. The gang
had to get information on the payroll shipment from somewhere, and
when they made their move, McCray would find out about it. If they
could capture just one of them—anyone asking questions about the
payroll shipment and the movements associated with it—it would be
an easy matter to force him into revealing the whereabouts and
plans of the rest of the gang.
Knife’s gravelly voice broke into his
thoughts.
“There’s something else, Mr. McCray. Bart
Mueller was in the Ten Gallon with me a few minutes ago and he
hightailed it out of there to find Breen. Said you’d better meet
‘em over at the hotel pronto. Something’s up. Don’t know what it’s
all about, but he was pretty fired up.”
“Damn.” McCray didn’t know what that was all
about either, but he had a feeling he was going to find out. He
only hoped it was good news. He and Breen could use a break.
“Let’s go.” McCray grabbed his hat. “Get the
boys ready to ride. Bring Dane along, too. Soon as I meet with
Breen, we’re going to pay a visit to Mr. Joseph Wells. I’m not
playing games anymore—the deed for Fire Mesa will be in
my
hands by the end of the day—whether Mr. Wells lives to hand it over
to me himself or not.”
* * *
Gil Keedy had already spread the rumor about
Fire Mesa in the Ten Gallon Saloon. He guessed it wouldn’t take
long to reach McCray’s ears, and only wished he could see the
expression on the man’s face when he learned he was about to lose
that prime piece of property. Gil knew he should leave town
immediately, now that his part in Rawdon’s scheme was done. But he
didn’t really feel he was in any particular danger. No one
identified him with the Montgomery gang, and he had passed on the
rumor in such a way that it would be difficult for anyone to trace
it back to him. Besides, he wanted to go over to Miller’s store and
pick up a few supplies for Josie. She needed some flannel and wool
to start sewing winter clothes for the baby. Gil felt the urge to
buy her a little something, too. And of course, he told himself,
something for Juliana.
Striding across the deserted streets of
Plattsville, Gil fretted over his feelings for these two very
different women. Juliana was like a moonbeam. Beautiful, magical,
elusive. He couldn’t quite catch her in his hands. Even when she
was with him, Gil reflected wistfully, her thoughts were elsewhere.
He could sense it. When Rawdon was near, Juliana seemed to come
alive.
Josie was as solid and real, as warmly
attentive and attuned to him as a willow tree rooted to the earth.
His heart didn’t buck like a wild bronc every time she smiled at
him, the way it did with Juliana, but at the same time, he did have
a nice warm feeling when she plunked the baby into his arms while
she poured him a cup of coffee. When they had worked together in
the house, making that one little room comfortable for her and
Kevin, he had found himself imagining how nice it would be always
to come home to that warmly smiling face, to the pleasant sound of
her voice and laughter.
The more he thought about Josie, the more he
felt a sudden urge to see her. But he’d better ride by the cabin
first, he decided, and make sure everything was all right with
Juliana and Skunk. Then he’d go to Josie with some tins of
chocolate from the store, the fabric she’d been wanting, and
whatever else he saw in Miller’s that looked as if it would appeal
to a lady.
Gil was so immersed in his thoughts as he
came out of the general store a short time later with a parcel
tucked under his arm that he didn’t notice the cowboy lounging
across the street, watching him from beneath the wide brim of his
hat. Nor did he see the men staring at him from behind the curtains
of the window above the saloon. He headed toward the hitching post
where his horse was tethered, pleased that the rumor about Fire
Mesa had already reached the merchants in the store, and surely by
now, he assumed, Line McCray. He prayed Rawdon’s plan would work.
But in the meantime his part in it was over. All he had to do was
keep an eye on both Juliana and Josie today until this thing was
finished.
Not exactly a chore to Gil’s way of
thinking.
He was whistling as he headed out of
town.
But Gil wasn’t the only one pleased.
John Breen’s topaz eyes were gleaming with
excitement as he turned from the window overlooking the street.
“It’s Keedy, all right,” he said to Bart Mueller. “This couldn’t
possibly be a coincidence.” He slapped his foreman on the back.
“Good work, Bart. We’ve just about got her.”
Half turning, he smiled at Line McCray. “If
we follow that fellow’s trail, he’ll lead us straight to Juliana
Montgomery—and possibly the entire Montgomery gang as well.”
“How do you know that?”
But Breen was already opening the back room
door and answered without a backward glance. “No time to explain.
Just take my word for it that he’s hooked up with that girl. Get
your men together and meet me downstairs pronto. My man Samuels is
following him and will leave us a clear trail, but I don’t want to
fall too far behind.”
“Hold on, Breen.” McCray cleared his throat
as the other man wheeled, frowning. “I’ve ... got a little
problem.”
A frown creased Breen’s face as McCray
explained about Fire Mesa, and his need to “persuade” Wells to sell
to him and not Rawdon before it was too late. Breen heard him out,
though he was clearly impatient to be off.
“Take Jackson here and some of the other men,
if this is so damned important to you. You can meet up with us
later, after you’ve taken care of Wells. Since Keedy headed south,
we’ll rendezvous at the river. Someone will meet you there to show
you the way. Unless of course,” he added sarcastically, “you don’t
want the Montgomery gang as badly as you want this piece of land.
In that case, I’ll just grab the girl and be done with it, and the
gang can rot in hell for all I care.”
McCray followed him down the murkily lit
stairway, his determination mounting. “I’ll have Fire Mesa, Cole
Rawdon, and the Montgomerys, Mr. Breen.” Confidence nearly made him
do a jig, but he kept his zeal in check. “See you at the river by
mid-afternoon.”
John Breen’s brain was already clicking
ahead, to what the rest of the day would bring. All this time, he’d
waited to get his hands on Juliana Montgomery. And now that jackass
Keedy would lead him straight to her.
“I want fifteen men at the stables within the
quarter hour,” he told Bart Mueller as they paused in the noisy,
smoke-filled cave of the saloon. “No one’s coming back to town or
getting within a yard of a bottle of rotgut until we’ve got the
girl.”
An ominous air seemed to envelop the
mountains as Juliana helped Skunk with the horses and the chores,
trying not to think about what was going on at the main house of
Fire Mesa. Even the birds twittered with high-pitched excitement,
and the leaves of the junipers crackled nervously in the wind. Or
so it seemed to Juliana. Every time a branch snapped outside as
some creature stirred across it, every time the wind howled down
from the hills, blowing bits of dust and leaves, she jumped.
Had Cole and Wade and Tommy outsmarted Line
McCray, or had something gone very wrong?
She told herself again and again that in a
little while, they would all come riding back down the trail, rowdy
with victory. But her fingers shook as she swept the broom about
the cabin and scrubbed the little pine table where they’d all eaten
breakfast a few hours ago. She wondered how Skunk could whistle so
lightheartedly and hum little snatches of songs as he chopped
firewood for the stove beneath the blazing sun. She wanted to
scream with frustration.
At noon she could bear it no longer. She
whisked herself outside and down to the gully, over Skunk’s
protests. She sat alone on a smooth white stone jutting out from
the wild grasses, and strained her ears, listening. Foolish to
think she could hear gunshots or shouts, foolish to think she could
discern anything that was going on at Fire Mesa. But the need to
know something was burning a hole inside of her.
All the people she loved, all the people she
had left in the world, were there, facing danger. She felt useless
and helpless in this peaceful neck of the mountain, hidden from the
enemies who would destroy all those she loved.
Love. She had come west looking for it, in a
fashion. She had wanted to find her brothers, to build a life with
them in the glorious freedom of this vast, untamed land. If Wade
and Tommy returned today having rid themselves of the threat posed
by Line McCray, she could still do it. Yet, when she tried to
picture herself in that cozy little home she had once envisioned
inhabiting with Wade and Tommy, baking that rhubarb pie she had
imagined, a hollow feeling spread through her. Much as she loved
them, dear as they were to her, she kept picturing herself instead
with Cole—welcoming him home at the door with a kiss that would
show him how glad she was to have him there, sitting down to a hot
breakfast with him each morning, pouring his coffee, curling under
warm piles of woolen blankets with him at night.
Cole. Love
. She hadn’t meant it to
happen—she had never imagined herself needing, wanting any man so
desperately. But this man was so different from all others. When he
was near she felt all her responses heightened. When he was beside
her, she felt safe.
Pain knifed through her when she thought that
maybe he didn’t need her as much as she needed him—that maybe he
didn’t love her at all.
She remembered what had happened between them
last night right in this very gully, and that other night, in his
cabin, that bleak little place that had been transformed into a
blissful paradise consisting of the two of them and a narrow
feather bed. It had all been too beautiful and too meaningful to be
merely an outpouring of lust. Some stubborn instinct inside her
still clung to that belief. When she considered Cole’s past, the
brutal tragedy of his childhood, his tormented years at the
orphanage, and that vicious betrayal by Jess Burrows and Liza
White, she realized it must be nearly impossible for Cole to
believe in another human being or in love ever again. Any other man
would have been scarred for life, scarred with hate and bitterness,
with the ravages of the pain he’d known. But Cole was too strong,
too tough for that. His inner strength and goodness had enabled the
fine qualities he possessed to survive, to keep him sane and whole.
Oh, he was lonely, he was distrustful, and he thought he didn’t
need anyone or anything at all. He probably didn’t believe for one
moment in love—but Juliana did.