Dorothy Garlock - [Wyoming Frontier] (11 page)

“What’s the price for all of this
protection
you and Mr. Weston are providing? The . . . ah . . . er . . . usual?” She spoke coolly, refusing to look away as his dark eyes raked her face and heard her sister gasp at the blunt words.

His lips quirked in a semblance of a smile in spite of the savage anger that tore through him. He wanted to shake her. Yet, he told himself, he had never liked a mountain that was too easy to climb, a tame horse, or a dog who followed anyone who had a bone. Life with this little hellion would be interesting.

“Few things in life are free.”

“What price?”

“Regardless of whether or not you and Mary agree to our . . . ah, request, you’ll be safe here.”

“What price?” Her tone of voice stated plainly that her patience was wearing thin.

“First, I want to know if you, Mary, and Theresa have had measles.”

“Why?”

“Damn it, Katy! Can’t you answer a simple question?”

“We had them at Myrtle Gulch.” Mary quickly interceded. “Theresa was not yet two at the time. I didn’t have them as bad as Katy. She was awfully sick.”

Katy shot her sister a frowning look of disapproval for giving out the information, then forced herself to look back at Rowe and speak matter of factly.

“Now I understand why you need us to stay here. You have an outbreak of measles and you want us to tend the sick. Let me warn you, Mr.
Blackbeard
Teach, that I could not have possibly been Florence Nightingale in my former life because, as far as I know, she is still living. Nor could I have been Clara Barton, for the same reason.”

Rowe threw back his head and laughed.

At this moment Katy thoroughly hated him. More than anything she wanted to slam her knotted fist into his eye with every ounce of her strength. The thought sobered her. What was this man doing to her? She couldn’t remember ever wanting to strike anyone before. When she was with Garrick Rowe, it was as if there were another person inside her clamoring to get out.

“What in the world are you talking about?” Mary asked, looking first at Rowe’s smiling face then at her sister’s angry one. Katy’s lips were pressed in a downward arc, and her brows were beetled. “How many men are sick, Rowe?”

“Two, so far. Hank isolated them in one wagon. He says measles broke out in Bannack while they were there, so we expect more men to come down with them.”

“Poor things. Sage tea will break the fever and bakingsoda paste will help the itch—”

“They’re a miserable lot with fever runnin’ high,” Hank said, and his Irish brogue reminded Katy of Pack Gallagher, Mara Shannon’s husband.

“Of course, we’ll do what we can for them,” Mary said firmly. “Are they still in the wagons?”

“We moved them to the house back of the livery.”

“Is someone looking after them?”

“I’ve been doin’ what I can.”

“Then you’ve had measles.”

“Not that I know of, but—”

“Laws! You’ll be coming down with them next.” Mary got to her feet and went to the cupboard. “We’ve got sage for tea but not much soda.”

“There’s plenty in the cookhouse,” Hank said.

Katy watched Mary. She was in her glory when she was nursing the sick. Damn Garrick Rowe! He
was
playing all the right cards. Mary wouldn’t even think of leaving Trinity as long as there was someone here who needed her.

“I’ll go see what I can do, Katy. Men die of measles if they’re not given enough water, if fever burns them up, or if they scratch and get infection.”

“I figured you would,” Katy said drily.

“You needn’t worry, miss,” Hank said. “I’ll see that no harm comes to her.”

Katy looked at him, then at Rowe. Rowe was aggravating, but she was reasonably sure he wouldn’t force himself on her or her sister. Hank Weston was another matter. He seemed nice enough, but so did the preacher who had met her outside the house one night in Bonanza City and tried to throw her to the ground. She held him off with the little Derringer, and the next Sunday he was in the pulpit preaching hellfire and brimstone and looking as pious as ever.

“She’ll be all right. Hank will stay close to her,” Rowe said, seeing the doubt on her face.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Katy said bluntly.

“Katy!” Mary’s cheeks turned red with mortification. “Please excuse us. I want to speak to my sister in private.” Mary went to the back of the building and into the shadows. The men sat in embarrassed silence as Katy, with head high, followed her sister. “What in the world has gotten into you?” Mary demanded in an angry whisper.

“Why? Because I don’t like the idea of you going out in the dark with that . . . big Irish rowdy?”

“How do you know he’s a rowdy?” She held her hand up when Katy opened her mouth to speak. “Rowe risked his life for us. To my way of thinking, he’s been a real gentleman. I’m certain that he’d not recommend Mr. Weston if he were not a gentleman also.”

“Gentleman! Good Lord, Mary! Miners who live from hand-to-mouth, from one hole in the ground to another, are not gentlemen. There’s
thirty
of them, and
two
of us. I don’t trust any of them as far as I could throw a cow by the tail. That includes Mr. Garrick Rowe, for all his heroics.”

“Why? Just tell me why you’ve become so cynical all of a sudden, and what Rowe has done to deserve the cutting edge of your tongue every time the two of you are together?”

“It isn’t all of a sudden, and there’s something about the man that gets my back up.”

“You’re bitter, Katy. I can’t tell you how sorry I am to see that happen.”

“Call me bitter, cynical, or whatever. If you go down to that sickhouse, we’ll all go.”

“I’ll not take Theresa to a sickhouse,” Mary said stubbornly.

“Why not? She’s had measles.”

“I may be there for hours. It’s no place for a little girl. Please, Katy. The men here will be more inclined to help us if we show a little trust in them.” Mary started to leave, then turned back. “I think you like Rowe and you don’t want to admit it. That’s why you’re like a prickly pear every time you’re near him.”

“And I think you’re out of your mind if you think I like that pigheaded son of Satan!” Katy hissed angrily.

Mary plucked her shawl from the peg on the wall and flung it about her shoulders. “Let me use my own judgment in this. I wouldn’t do anything that I thought would put us in danger. Heavens! I’ve got a child to raise, and for some time now, I’ve thought I’ll be doing it without any help from Roy.”

“That’s why we must be careful.”

“I know,” Mary said softly. “Don’t worry. I’m ready, Mr. Weston,” she called and hurried toward the front of the building.

“Mary, wait.” Katy picked up the Derringer lying on the shelf over her bed and hurried after her sister. “Take this.”

“I won’t need it. I’m sure Mr. Weston or Mr. Hooker are equipped to shoot anyone who needs shooting.”

“Oh, Lord! That damn Derringer again. Put it away.” This came from Rowe who had moved to the rocking chair and was holding Theresa cradled in his arms.

The command fanned Katy’s temper. She slipped the pistol into her pocket. “You can put Theresa in her bed and go with Mary.”

“Hank and Anton will go with Mary. I’m staying here to . . . protect you.” He tilted his head back and looked up at her with a lascivious look in his eyes.

Before she could retort, Anton said, “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Burns.”

“It was nice meeting you too,” Katy murmured. Then she turned to Mary, “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

“I’m sure. After Rowe puts Theresa in her bed, dish up the gooseberry pie. I’m sorry I didn’t make more.” She smiled up into the face of the Irishman. “I’ll make another pie for you and Mr. Hooker tomorrow.”

Katy went to the door and watched her sister walk out into the darkness between two tall men. She turned to see Rowe getting out of the rocker.

“If anything happens to Mary, I’ll . . . shoot you!” The words exploded from her tense lips and her eyes burned up at him resentfully.

“I accept that. I’ll stand perfectly still so that you won’t miss.” Amusement glinted in his dark eyes. Suddenly, he laughed.

“I’m glad you’re amused,” she snapped. “Put Theresa in her bed and get out of here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with mock politeness.

Katy stood with her back to the room and looked out the door seeing nothing but the ray of light that made a path on the porch. The only sounds she heard were the creaking of the floorboards when Rowe went to the back of the room to place Theresa in her bed. Seconds passed while Katy drew a shallow breath, followed by deeper ones, as she waited for him to return and leave. She heard him coming and moved aside so that he could go out the doorway. He walked purposefully up behind her and stopped.

“You have magnificent hair, Nightrose. I can’t wait to see it loose and hanging down your back . . . again.”

She turned to look at him. She could see his eyes were full of laughter and her thoughts whirled.

“Don’t be giving me any more of that gibberish about knowing me in another life. I’m not a complete fool even if I did let myself get stranded here.” She moved farther back from the door. “Good night,” she said pointedly.

He reached for her hand. “Come out on the porch. I want to show you something.”

“What?” she said, even as she let him draw her through the doorway and into the darkness.

“It’s a hurdle we have to cross.” He turned her toward him.

“A hurdle? I don’t—”

He settled his lips against her mouth and breathed. “This hurdle.” She was pressed against his long length. His fingers slid into the hair at the back of her head to hold her mouth to his. The lips that touched hers were warm and gentle as they tingled across her mouth with fleeting kisses. The arms holding her gradually tightened as his feet moved apart to widen his stance. She felt herself being drawn against, then between, hard, muscular thighs that held hers.

Katy came to her senses and struggled against him, but he refused to loosen his hold. His strength won and she ceased her efforts to escape. Soon she was incapable of movement or thinking and surrendered herself to the delicious floating feeling as his kiss became more possessive and deepened. Her lips parted, his tongue flirted with the inside of her lower lip, and his hand left her head to stroke gently down the curve of her back. She was breathless when he pulled his mouth from hers and raised his head only a fraction.

“You see how it is, Nightrose?” His whisper was deep and husky. “The face of the earth may change, but that is all. You and I are together again in this place. We will love here, grow old here, die here. In time we’ll come back to another part of this earth and meet again. You are my mate, my love—”

“You . . . are crazy—”

“Put your arms around my neck and try not to resent me for springing this on you so suddenly. I’ve been looking for you a long, long time.”

“No! Let me go.” She was breathless.

He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Don’t fight it, sweetheart.” His hand moved up and down her back in a soothing motion. “Be still for just a little while and you’ll see how right it is.” The last words were spoken on her lips before his moved away to nuzzle into the hair at her temple.

Gradually the stiffness went out of her body and she found herself leaning against him. She was tired. It had been so long since there had been anyone to lean on. How wonderful it would be to have a strong man to take over the burden of taking care of her and Mary and Theresa. She closed her eyes, telling herself that she didn’t have a chance against his strength, that she would rest for a moment.

Katy could feel the strong thud of his heartbeat, smell the tangy smoke on his soft cotton shirt, feel his breath on her forehead. His hands stroked her from the nape of her neck down her spinal column to the curve of her hips. Strong fingers massaged every vertebra on the way. It was comforting, she admitted begrudgingly, to be sheltered in this man’s arms here in the darkness.

Oh! For Christ’s sake! What was the matter with her. She didn’t behave this way . . . like a loose, fallen woman. She scarcely knew this man who was pressing her so intimately against him. She stiffened. Rowe sensed it immediately and loosened his hold, but not enough so that she could step away from him.

“You’re worn out, Katy. There’ll be no more chopping wood for you, or carrying water to the cow. I’ll see that these things are done—”

“In exchange for . . . what?” She didn’t know why she said it. She wanted to make him angry. It was her defense against him.

“For a kiss every night for the rest of our lives.”

“Can’t you get it though your head that I don’t even . . . like you?”

“Shhh . . . hh. Shhh . . . Don’t lie, my Nightrose.” He bent closer. Under slanting black brows his eyes were clear and searching. His lips moved against her cheek while she struggled desperately to keep her wits about her. “I’m afraid I overwhelmed you. I know I’m going too fast, but I don’t play games, Katy. When I find something I want, I go after it.”

The arrogance of his words sent a thrill of excitement through her even while her independent spirit rebelled against them. She made an attempt to get control of her mind, only to find it an impossible task as his lips traveled over her forehead to her eyelids and then down her cheek to her mouth.

“Kiss me. Kiss me like I know you can.” He pressed his mouth softly to hers, nibbled, caressed, and possessed. He raised his head and looked searchingly into her eyes. “I won’t rush you into anything, but I intend to have you—make no mistake about it. Now kiss me, so I can go see how Mary is making out.”

Confusion darkened Katy’s eyes. She felt as if she had been run over by a lumber wagon. Her lips formed the word no, but it didn’t come out of her mouth. She found herself giving quick answer to the gentle, tender kisses his lips pressed upon hers. A warm tide of contentment came over her as she realized there was no threat to his kiss. Her mouth trembled under his.

“Good night, love,” he breathed against her lips.

The eyes that looked into hers glowed, sending her senses reeling. She wondered what strange madness possessed her to allow him to kiss her and for her to kiss him back. It was even more frightening to realize that it had been a most delightful interlude. But now it was over. His hands were on her shoulders, yet he was so close she could feel his breath on her wet lips.