Claudia Dain (23 page)

He scratched again at the dirt between his knees, deciding to add on another bedroom for his children. He would have a son.

His mama called out again, calling him. She'd made something for him, a treat of apples and crust and cream. He wanted the treat, but he knew that his mama would send him to bed for a rest after he had finished eating. It was that time of day. He crunched lower into the brush, delighting in the knowledge that she couldn't see him, and worked on the last line in the dust that would finish his house.

The shot rang out against the heat and the quiet.

Jack jolted upright, heart pounding, sweat thick on his neck and his chest. The dark was thick around him and he took a few breaths to stop the shaking that rattled his chest like an old man's. Running his hands through his hair, he forced himself to calm down, to ease himself back into sleep. It would work. He'd get control. He'd done it night after night.

Chapter 16

He came in time for breakfast and was served royally. Grits, hotcakes, steak, eggs, and biscuits all steaming merrily from the center of the table, his plate pristine and white, awaiting service. He got it. Mounds of good, hot food with a fragrant cup of coffee served in a porcelain teacup and saucer all but surrounded him at the table. The women stood like servants, awaiting his smile or a word of appreciation. He was free with both. Dammit sat at his feet, tail pounding on the floorboards with flagrant joy, muzzle resting on his thigh: a picture of devoted contentment.

Bill had come for breakfast.

Bill was working up the wind to ask her to marry him and everyone in the room expected her to say yes. What would happen when she said no?

"Anne, freshen up Bill's coffee," Miss Daphne said from her place at the stove, where she was frying up some potatoes to go with Bill's steak.

"Yes, ma'am," she said, reaching for the pot and pulling herself out of her daydreams at the same time. Her plan for using Jack to scare off Bill hadn't worked. No, it was Sarah's plan to use Jack to light a fire under Bill that had worked.

Mercy.
She wasn't ready for this fight; she didn't want to have it at all. She just wanted to be plumb gone one day, free from expectations. She might even change her name.

Where was Jack? Why wasn't he here to pull the reins? Gone, just like a man. Probably because he had the impression that she was loose. Hard for him not to think that when she was always asking him to kiss her.

"I'll be back before you know it, Anne," Bill said, smiling.

Was he leaving again? Well, that was good. Maybe he'd leave town without asking for her hand.

"I'm so glad," she said, smiling back while she topped off his cup.

"We'll have our private talk when I get back in a day or two," he said softly.

She smiled even more fully and said, "Good."

"There must be some prime land in Junction City that keeps pulling you back there, Bill," Nell said. "Weren't you out there just last week?"

"Yes, ma'am, and I've got the lady who owns it about ready to sell. Her man's gone and she never wanted to come West much in the first place, so I'm just nudging her along, you might say."

"Well, I'm certain you'll make out just fine," Miss Daphne said.

"So am I," Sarah said, pulling out fresh biscuits.

It seemed there was nothing much to add to that without sounding foolish, so Anne just kept her mouth shut and put the pot back on the stove.

Jack didn't show up in time for breakfast.

After a strong look from Miss Daphne and an exasperated one from her mother, Anne offered to walk Bill to the train that would take him the forty miles east to Junction City. Bill accepted gladly.

Jack wasn't on the front porch.

Anne allowed Bill to take her arm and walk her to the station. She forced herself not to look for Jack's gun-draped body as they walked through town.

Jack wasn't on the boardwalk that banded the main street of Abilene.

She still held her head up and her chest out, looking with smiling eyes at Bill, just in case Jack could see her from inside one of the buildings. Bill appreciated the effort, anyway. He squeezed her hand and leaned down to whisper, "I'll be back as soon as I finish up in Junction City. I'd ask you now, but I want it all to be just right."

"I can wait," she said. And she could.

She couldn't allow herself to put off any longer meeting with Reverend Holt; her spiritual condition was dangerously weak, fed by the lie she was living more fully every day. Her family would be laid flat if they knew what she was planning. She needed to talk things out, get the reverend's view on her plans, maybe even get his approval. But no matter what he said, she was leaving. She just didn't want to feel so guilty about it.

Jack was on the platform, watching her.

A tingle that had nothing to do with Bill standing next to her shot down her spine. She smiled her first heartfelt smile of the morning and aimed it right at Jack. Bill didn't seem to notice.

Jack didn't smile back.

Bill wasn't smiling anymore either.

"You watching or riding?" Jack asked, talking to both of them or either of them. He didn't act like he cared which.

"Bill's taking the train to Junction City," she said.

Anne and Bill climbed the platform steps and Jack looked at Bill, ignoring her altogether, it seemed to her.

"Business or pleasure?"

"I don't owe you an explanation," Bill snapped.

"Business," Anne chirped.

"Long trip?" Jack said, his hands relaxed and next to his guns. No matter where he rested his hands, they were near his guns.

Obviously, he planned it that way. Maybe he was so used to his guns that he didn't think about them anymore, maybe they were so much a part of him that he didn't realize how he looked to everyone. Watching him, the wary look of him, the way he kept his eyes on Bill and his hands easy, she knew the sudden truth. He knew exactly how he looked and he never for a moment forgot that he was a dangerous-looking man carrying potent firepower. He was the most aware man she had ever seen.

"Nothing you need to know," Bill said, clasping her arm. Anne suddenly remembered Jack's gibe of last night. Was Bill hanging on to her because that gave him the freedom to talk tough? Would he be as bold without her by his side? Jack didn't think so.

Anne tried to move away from Bill. He held her tight by him. To protect her or to protect himself?

"Just a day or two," she said to Jack, answering his question while gently trying to disengage herself from Bill's hand on her elbow. "He's trying to buy some land from a widow woman over there."

Jack's eyes hadn't left Bill's face as she answered, which was flatly irritating. Maybe she was the only one who had relived that kiss until after midnight. Maybe he kissed every woman he had a passing acquaintance with the way he kissed her; after all, she was hardly more than an acquaintance by most standards. But his kisses changed every standard she'd ever heard of, which was the pity of it. She wasn't going to be snared by the power of a kiss. Especially when he couldn't be bothered to remember it.

"A widow?" Jack asked, his eyes cold in the morning light that slanted like a drift of snow across the wooden platform. "You known her long?"

"Long enough."

Jack smiled and that was cold, too. "I'll just bet."

Bill grabbed her tighter. His grip pinched and her fingers were going numb. He didn't seem about to let go.

"Bill, you'd better get on. You know how you hate to be in the back of the car."

She turned and gave him a kiss, full on the mouth. He was so startled that he hardly did more than breathe and let go of her arm. She never kissed him, unless it was at night and he started it, never good-bye at the train. She was really kissing him for Jack's benefit, hoping to provoke Jack. Hoping that Jack would just once this morning look at her.

He looked.

He'd been trying his damnedest to keep his eyes off of her, hard to do since she'd been pressed up against Bill like siding on a barn. Now, he looked his fill for the eternity the kiss she planted on Bill seemed to last. Oh yeah, she'd started it. The gal seemed to like to kiss, no matter who the man was.

A less than civil thought since Tucker was her proper beau. He was the one who'd been stealing kisses and getting away with it. With her full approval and participation.

The whistle blew, Anne pulled herself off Tucker, and turned to face him. He met her look. She looked both wistful and expectant; what did she want him to do? Flatten Tucker for kissing the woman he was obviously working up steam to marry or kiss her himself with Tucker looking on?

He knew what she wanted him to do; he knew the look of her well enough by now, but he couldn't do it. There was no bridge taking him to where she wanted him to go and he wasn't going to build one now, not with Tucker about to climb on a train out of Abilene, off to meet a woman who was holding something he wanted.

Jack knew that Anne would be safe if he kept near her. Or if he kept near Tucker. The way he was feeling, after watching her kiss Bill as if he were the last man in Abilene, Tucker was the safer bet. If he stayed with Anne in Abilene, he'd do more than just kiss her. For all that she liked kissing, she didn't seem to have any notion of where kisses like that took a man. She had just enough feminine know-how to make her dangerous and more than enough to make her foolish, at least in her ability to watch out for herself. She had no ability there; she just threw herself at a man and trusted he'd do the right thing.

Trust thrown free like that was a ticket to trouble. He didn't want any trouble with her and he didn't want her getting into any on her own. With both him and Bill gone, she'd be safe enough. He'd be safe enough, too. She was digging in too deep and he didn't have what she was looking for. He needed a spot of breathing room and he was going after it before he drowned in her blue eyes. Jack turned away from the questioning look on her face and went and bought a ticket for Junction City.

Breathing room.

Tucker looked like a gored bull, but there was nothing he could do to stop Jack. Anybody could ride the trains, any time they had the price of a ticket. He had the price and he paid it.

When he climbed on, the train had already started moving off down the track. He stood at the rear door and looked back at Anne. She stood like a little porcelain doll, all alone on that big wooden platform, as desolate as a child at getting left behind. He was leaving her behind, but she was safe. He knew she was safe while he had Tucker in his sights. And with Tucker on his way east, the woman in Junction City needed him.

* * *

The train pulled out, taking the only two eligible men in Abilene with it. She'd kissed them both and they'd both left her without a second thought. That in itself told its own tale. Everything she'd suspected about men and women was true, not that she'd ever doubted it. Men left. She knew it. She'd seen it for herself. Men left. They might marry, but they didn't stay. It was good to be reminded of that again. Jack made everything, all she knew, a bit fuzzy. It was good to get clear again.

She needed to get clear and stay clear. It was time to talk to Reverend Holt.

She found the reverend alone in the parlor of the parsonage, for which she was thankful. He was reading his Bible, but he put it down fast enough when he saw he had company.

"Anne! What a surprise! Come in, come in, I'm glad to see you," he said, a bit loudly. Anne turned to look out the nearest window to see if anyone was listening. No one seemed to be, but then you could never be sure in Abilene.

"You're looking lovely," he said, rising to his feet as he closed his Bible. It was a quite ordinary-looking Bible with a worn leather cover and well-thumbed pages; the dye had worn away on the spine where he held it, leaving the indistinct imprint of a pale hand. "Up early to see the seven twenty-five off? Anyone interesting on the train today?"

"Good morning, Reverend," she said. "Yes, Bill Tucker and Jack Scullard both got on the train this morning."

"Is that right? Traveling together?" An odder couple couldn't be imagined.

"Oh, no," she quickly assured him. "Bill had business in Junction City and Jack just... left."

"He's staying with you, isn't he?" Anne nodded and sat when he indicated a seat. The room was spare but comforting, clean and well tended with a masculine feel to it. There wasn't a room in her house that had that feeling. "That was kind of you, especially considering how folks in this town feel about him."

Anne just nodded, guilt pouring through her veins like a spring river, hard and fast. She hadn't invited Jack out of kindness, she'd invited him in to get him closer and take advantage of what he offered.

"How'd Miss Daphne take it, when he showed up with his gear and looking for a bed?"

"She wasn't happy about it," Anne said, "but Jack just sort of made his way in. My grandmother didn't have much to say against it once he was standing in her foyer."