Hearts in Defiance (Romance in the Rockies Book 2) (23 page)

“You’re going out after dark? May I accompany you?”

“I won’t be alone. Emilio is going to stay …” Spoken aloud, the
arrangement sounded inappropriate.

“Oh?”

“Doc has two patients who need watching.”

“Oh. Would you mind if I came along, too?”

“Actually, I was hoping you would stay here with Little Billy.”
Hannah almost told him straight up
I don’t want you along.
Truth was,
she didn’t want Emilio along either, not really. She wanted some time alone.
“Of course, Rebecca, Naomi, even Mollie can help you if you need something. He
is sleeping and generally sleeps through the night now. You should be fine.”
Pulling the shawl tighter against the cold and the emptiness, she turned and
marched back toward the hotel.

She never heard Billy come up from behind. Suddenly, he was there,
spinning her around, pressing his lips to hers. At first Hannah was too stunned
to react, then she tried to pull away, but he held on tighter, moving a hand to
the back of her head to keep his lips pinned to hers. “Please forgive me,
Hannah. I love you.”

She shoved against his chest but he held on to her as if his arms
were forged from steel. Fury turned to defeat and she whimpered as the fight
raging within her turned. She pushed against him one last time, but the battle
was lost. Her hands came up around Billy’s neck and she clung to him, and to
the memory of their first kiss at the Christmas social. Her heart hammering
wildly, she let herself forget the betrayal. For the moment, she pretended
these were the strong arms of an honorable man. This was the deep, passionate
kiss of a noble husband who would fight all odds to keep his family together.

Only none of that was true, and she’d fallen prey to his kiss
again. Growling, she shoved Billy off her. A scream rose to her throat. “No!”

“Hannah, please …” Billy reached for her.

“No!” she screamed again, furious with herself. “I will not ever
let you hurt me like that again.”

She ran to the hotel, to a safe place. To Emilio.

~~~

Thirty-Two

Hannah stared hard at the shadowy boardwalk beneath her feet,
intermittently illuminated by the street lamps.
Emilio walked beside her, probably confused by her silence. Bawdy
laughter and the sounds from a couple of different pianos wafted over to them from
Tent Town, mixing the drinking songs into an unrecognizable, out-of-tune mess.
This street used to sound like that, she remembered. Now, the traffic was
light, and the few pedestrians on the boardwalk with them seemed sober, most
likely on their way to Tent Town. Later on, sober might be debatable.

“I know Black Elk,” Emilio said. “He doesn’t shy away from
trouble. You understand that’s why I’m not leaving you alone with him?”

“Oh, the man’s handcuffed to the bed.” Hannah waved his concern
away. “And Marshal Beckwith and Wade will stop by at least twice tonight. Not
to mention, Doc’s office isn’t a hundred yards away from the Marshal’s office.
You really don’t need to stay.”

Besides, nursing someone helped her bring perspective to her own
problems. She bit her lip, reliving Billy’s kiss. The desperation in his voice
when he’d asked for her forgiveness and said
I love you
. Had she
overreacted? Why did he confuse her so badly? Maybe he did deserve a second
chance, but she couldn’t see herself giving it to him. The fear of getting hurt
again was like a huge towering brick wall between them.

Oh, Lord, forgive me. Am I being haughty and proud? But I just
can’t stand the thought of more heartbreak.

She glanced up at Emilio for confirmation she was in the right
place and was surprised to find him peering down at her. He moved a strand of
black hair away from his forehead and smiled. “Would you rather I was someone
else?”

She cared for him too much to lie. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

His countenance fell, only a little, and he nodded, as if
respecting the truth.

A few minutes later they tromped up on the porch of Doc’s office
and Hannah knocked. Doc’s muffled voice bid them enter and they found the
physician working on Uncle Matt’s side again.

Hannah gasped. “What happened?”

Doc looked up at his patient, a challenge in his raised brow.
Uncle Matt smooshed a clumsy finger against his lips, hitting his nose in the
process. “I haf been engaged thith efening.” The slurred words and hint of
whiskey in the air filled in the details. “Get it?
Engaged
?” He laughed
drunkenly, wobbling on the stool.

“Be still, son, ’less you want me sew up your liver instead of
this wound.” Doc straightened the man and made sure he was done teetering.
Convinced of it, he hooked in another stitch.

Hannah still wasn’t following the story. “But how did you tear
your stitches?”

This time Doc didn’t wait for Uncle Matt. “Mr. Miller here was
involved in, well, let’s say activities a
healthy
man would have shied
away from.”

Uncle Matt chuckled and hiccupped. “Amaryllith ith quite the
energetic girl.”

Hannah didn’t have to think too hard to get the picture, and she
wasn’t happy about it. He had plainly said he didn’t drink. And now, he’d not
only ripped his stitches loose horsing around with some floozy, he was drunk as
the proverbial skunk. Maybe because of Billy, Hannah was particularly sensitive
to being lied to. She’d always adored Uncle Matt because of his quick wit and devil-may-care
attitude. Life had certainly tainted her view of those traits.

“I guess we need to get you back to the hotel.” She stepped closer
to study Doc’s progress. “Or is he staying here?”

Doc snipped a string and set the needle and scissors on the table.
“No, I don’t have a bed for him so he’s all yours. Just walk him slowly.”

Hannah pleaded silently with Emilio. He frowned, but nodded and
wagged a finger at her. “Once he’s settled, I’ll come back.”

Doc rolled out of the way as Emilio slipped his arms around Uncle
Matt. “All right,
senor
, the party is over. Let’s go.”

“I’m done sewing you up, son. Lock him up if you have to, Emilio,
but keep him away from Tent Town for at least two or three days.”

“
Si
, we’ll handle him, Doc.”

~~~

Billy leaned on the crib and watched his son sleeping in the faint
moonlight. As the minutes ticked by, the only sound in the room was the
peaceful breathing of the innocent babe. If he’d ever seen perfection in the
human form, he was looking at it now. His throat took on that painful tightness
again and he tried to shake it off. When had he become so emotional?

When he realized all he stood to lose.

He hung his head and tried hard to imagine a future in Defiance
without his son and Hannah. What if he actually lost them to Emilio? What would
he do? Where would he live? And that was assuming he survived the loss. Right
now, he didn’t think it possible. His heart had never felt so crushed.

He’d had a split-second of confidence that she still cared about
him when she’d returned his kiss. But that notion had gone up in flames when
the growl had ripped loose from her throat. The sound and the despair in it had
torn out his heart.

He lifted his head at a soft rustle behind him, but he didn’t
turn.

Several moments passed till, finally, he heard the muffled sound
of a woman clearing her throat. “Billy, why are you here?” Naomi asked the
question in a surprisingly gentle tone. “Really.”

He half-turned to her, but kept his hands on the crib. The
troubled crease in her forehead made him wonder if she was interested in more
than just running him off.

Quietly, she drifted up beside him and smiled at the little angel
before them. “You said you came for her. Because you’re rebelling against Frank
or because you love her?”

There were about a dozen answers to the question and Billy sighed.
“I’ve never stopped missing her. Then I started wondering what kind of a man I
was that I could be cowed by Pa just because I was afraid of him. Only a yellow
coward would run like I did.” He clutched the rail, the reasons sticking in his
craw. “I wanted to stand up to him. I didn’t care what it cost me. I wanted her
back and I wanted to thumb my nose at Pa. He said she’d hate me. I didn’t
believe that, but now,” he turned to Naomi, “I’m losing her and it scares the
hell out of me, Naomi. I realize now that every decision I’ve made to get here
was because I do love her. I was afraid of what that meant. What am I supposed
to do if I can’t win her back? What happens to my son?”

For the first time since he’d known this woman, he saw compassion
in her eyes. The crease in her brow deepened and he thought maybe she finally
had sympathy for him. She bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “Funny how
sometimes we have to lose things we value to find out what’s really important
in our lives.” She smiled at him and touched his elbow. “God loves you, Billy,
every bit as much as He loves Hannah and this child. Find the truth in that and
maybe you’ll be able to let go if you have to. But I’ll pray that you don’t.”

He turned back to Little Billy.

Let go?
The thought twisted his
insides. There was no conceivable way he’d ever do that. Just the
idea
threatened to stop his heart. He couldn’t live without his son. He couldn’t
live without Hannah.

He laced his fingers together and sent up a prayer before he
realized it
. Oh, God, no, please anything but that. They have to be with me.
With
me
.

~~~

Thirty-Three

Hannah sat quietly next to a softly snoring Black Elk and perused
a three-year-old copy of Medicinal Quarterly.
From the main room she could hear the Regulator wall clock ticking
the wee hours away. In the silence, everything seemed too loud. The turning of
the pages. The soft scrape of her cotton dress as she shifted in the ladder
back chair. Her own breathing.

A change in Black Elk’s breathing brought her head up. The Indian
lay awake. His dark eyes, trained on her, sparkled with unnerving intensity. “I
think I will live.” His voice, though stronger, still held a raspy edge.

“Well, that
is
good news. And I’m sure you’ll be back to
your old self in no time.” She set the periodical on the table next to her,
embarrassed by the flippant words. What was his old self? Was she suggesting he
go back to riding with One-Who-Cries and attacking settlers? Hannah decided the
only way around the awkward silence was to plow right on through it. “Do you
have any idea how you got sick?”

“The white man’s food.” Surprising Hannah with his quick answer,
he shocked her further by sitting up and tossing his legs out of the bed. The
sheet didn’t move with him, and he sat there, nearly naked. He tossed long
black hair over his shoulder and snatched violently at the handcuff. The
clanking metal jolted Hannah and she rose to her feet, ready to run.

He smiled at her, as if he enjoyed frightening her. She wanted to
bolt, but decided not to give this patient the satisfaction. Slowly, her chin
up, she settled back into the chair. Black Elk’s eyes widened slightly, in
approval of her courage? “A white man at Horse Mesa was very sick. He smelled
like death and rabbit stew. We filled his back with arrows.”

Hannah held on to her stoic expression but felt the twinge in her
jaw at the nonchalant declaration of murder. “If he was dying, why did you kill
him?”

The Indian shrugged with a chilling indifference. “Because we
could.”

Hannah guessed that with Black Elk’s returning health also came an
unhealthy sense of bravado. Young men it seemed, no matter their race, enjoyed
bragging. Perhaps she could use that. “You took a girl, didn’t you? Where is
she?”

“With One-Who-Cries.”

“Why did he take her?” Black Elk didn’t answer. He merely stared
at Hannah, smirking. Sitting there, barely clothed, no doubt thinking he was
quite the dangerous brave, Hannah wondered how he carried that big head atop
his shoulders. She tapped her fingers on her knee as she tried to guess the
questions that would keep him talking. “Why do you have a Christian name?”

Black Elk froze in the middle of a stretch to show off his rippled
stomach and sizable arms. Regarding her coolly, as if she were a bug, he took a
deep breath, puffing out his chest. “My mother was a Cheyenne converted to
Christianity by missionaries. She believed whites and Indians could live
together in peace.” 

“I take it you don’t think that’s possible.”

For an instant so fleeting she could have imagined it, a shadow of
sadness hastened across the young man’s face. But it died in a curled lip. He
yanked the handcuff that kept him shackled to the bed and flexed his fingers
restlessly. “I believe you should all die for what you’ve done to my people.”

Hannah gulped. The hatred in Black Elk’s voice astounded her.
God,
please reach this man before he gives himself completely over to darkness.

“I had a woman,” he said softly. “We lived with the Utes on the
Yampa River. Four moons ago, a group of miners burned the village to the
ground, her with it.”

Touched by the tragedy, Hannah started to reach out to him, but
caught herself. “Black Elk, I’m sorry for your loss but you can’t repay murder
with murder. Then the killing will never stop.”

“Your own Holy Book says an ‘eye for an eye.’ ”

“The ‘eye for an eye’ Scripture refers to a legal punishment. The
rest of the Bible is the story of a Savior who wants to share your heartbreaks
with you and help you overcome them. Hate will just burn you up from the inside
out … And that means her murderers will win again.”

He’d been staring off into space, but that brought his head
around.

Several seconds passed as he stared at her. Hannah prayed for the
words that would help him. Perhaps as repayment for her attempted counseling,
he offered her another tantalizing piece of information. “One-Who-Cries met an
outlaw who will trade us guns for women. The white people at Horse Mesa. They
had pretty daughters. Like you.”

Hannah leaned back, startled at the revelation. Mouth agape, she
asked, “Did you come here to get captives?”

He worked his jaw back and forth, as if pondering how to answer.
“I came here to drink.”

Hannah frowned. The answer could be the truth, but she didn’t
trust it. “You said one girl fought?”

“She fought like a warrior.”
Did he almost smile?
“I have
never seen a woman fight like that. She made One-Who-Cries very angry and he
bashed her head with a rock.”

Hannah couldn’t imagine the horror those girls had gone through.
Had the older sister fought to protect her younger sibling? Naomi would do
that. And wind up dead. Black Elk rubbed his temple with his free hand and slid
back beneath the sheets. He struck Hannah as weary, not merely tired.

“The girl you took. What will happen to her?” Hannah asked as
gently as she could. “Has she been traded already?”

Again, an indifferent shrug. “I do not know. After Horse Mesa,” he
shifted his gaze out the window to the mountains painted in moonlight, “I came
here … to drink.” Again, something about the statement sounded less than
honest. It sounded rehearsed.

“So you don’t know where One-Who-Cries is or the whereabouts of
the girl?” When he didn’t answer quickly, she dangled some bait. “Black Elk,
you’re in a lot of trouble for breaking up that saloon and trying to hurt
Dolores. You also stabbed a man. If you tell me something helpful, or tell
Marshal Beckwith something helpful, things may go easier for you.”

Fire ignited in his eyes as he turned to glare at her. Moving like
a streak of lightning, he reached out with his free hand and grabbed her wrist.
Fear tasted like acid in Hannah’s mouth. “The
justice
I get in Defiance
will be of my own making.”

Black Elk squeezed her wrist tighter and tighter and sneered at
her as the pain increased. As she cried out, Emilio burst into the room and
pulled her out of the man’s grasp. The Indian resisted for only a moment. He
let Hannah go and his sneer changed to a confident smile.

Emilio wrapped her in his arms and glared at the Black Elk.
“You’re done here, Hannah.”

Black Elk laid his head on his pillow and laughed bitterly as the
pair left Doc’s.

~~~