by Norah Hess
If the whole bunch of them should come at Kane at once, could he fight them off? D'lise was asking herself. She remembered how adept he was with that wicked-looking knife at his waist, and thought that he was probably just as proficient with the gun strapped around his hips.
She relaxed a bit and watched the tavern slatterns move noiselessly about the room, their faces haggard and drawn. Poor Aunt Anna had always gone around like that, ever trying to avoid her husband's attention.
D'lise thought of David and Johnny. How were they faring? Certainly they had received no beatings from Rufus since she left them. But had they the gumption to make themselves some supper?
And had Rufus stopped bleeding by now?
Her eyes lifted to Kane. "You forgot to send a doctor out to the shack. If Rufus bleeds to death, the law will be after you."
Kane's lips twitched in amusement. "There's not much law out here, mostly the law of might." He dropped his foot to the floor and straightened up. "But I'll go talk to the proprietor about sendin' someone to take a look at the fat hog."
He then turned to face the men who watched them, his hand firmly on his knife. His eyes like glacial ice, he warned, "Any man who messes with what's mine has got himself a whole lot of trouble."
"Think you're a big bad man, do you?" a gimlet-eyed man asked, placing his hand on his own knife, which was shoved into his belt.
"Mister, you ain't seen bad yet, but it's comin', you lay a hand on this girl while my back is turned."
The hill man tried to stare Kane down, but the dire threat in his eyes soon made him look away. A tittering went through the audience of men and women, and the man's face darkened with rage. He turned to his squaw and took his anger out on her by catching her across the mouth with the back of his hand. She uttered a sharp cry of pain as she fell to the floor, then closed her lips stoically.
God, men are brutal, D'lise thought as Kane walked away from her. She gripped her hands together until the knuckles turned white. Would these men pounce on her now, drag her off into some dark corner, make her endure what her aunt had lived with all her married life?
She relaxed a bit when it appeared the men weren't going to come any closer to her. Apparently they were heeding Kane's warning. A long sigh of relief escaped her, however, when Kane returned and sat down beside her.
"See that old fellow tryin' to put on his jacket?" Kane directed her attention to an elderly man struggling to get his arm into a sleeve that was minus an elbow. "That's the doctor. He's gonna go take a look at Rufus now."
A moment later, when the old gent fumbled open the door, Kane swore under his breath as a slash of rain hit the doctor in the face. It had come sooner and harder than he had figured. This was no fall sprinkle, but a hard, cold downpour coming out of the north. He slid a glance at D'lise's worried face. He couldn't make the girl camp out in such weather. As thin and undernourished as she was, she was bound to come down with pneumonia. Was there a room to be had in this place? He frowned.
Kane's thoughts were interrupted when D'lise looked up at him anxiously and said, "Poor Scrag. Cats hate to get wet."
The words were hardly out of her mouth when a wet, bedraggled Scrag shot past the doctor just before he closed the door behind him. The animal stopped in the middle of the floor, his back arched, his tail twice its normal size, hissing and spitting. While everyone gaped in amazement, D'lise jumped to her feet, calling, "Scrag! Here I am, boy."
With a nerve-shattering yowl, the half-drowned feline streaked across the room toward her. She picked him up and stroked his head, soothing him with softly spoken words. She looked up at Kane then, a helpless query in her eyes.
Kane gazed at the thin, beautiful girl with traces of grief still in her eyes, then at the equally thin, mean-looking tomcat in her arms. What had he saddled himself with? he wondered, for the first time realizing the seriousness of his involvement with D'lise Alexander. In taking her away from fat Rufus, he was now responsible for her welfare. If he didn't watch it, his whole way of life was in danger of being changed by this slender little female.
His voice was gruff when he spoke. "I'll speak to the owner about a room. There's no two ways about it. We've got to spend the night here."
As if to make his statement more positive, the rain began to beat against the shake-covered roof, sending rivulets of water down the two small windows.
"Come along, let's go talk to the man," Kane muttered, taking D'lise by the arm and causing Scrag to hiss at him. "Shut up, you ugly piece of fur," he snarled. "You're not out there in that downpour like my stallion and hound are."
Scrag's answer was another hiss.
"Kinda wet out there, huh?" the bartender remarked when Kane and D'lise stood in front of him again.
"It sure as hell is," Kane agreed, annoyance in his voice. "Looks like I'm gonna need a room for the night if you've got one to let."
"Yeah, I can see that you do. It wouldn't do to let that bunch look at this pretty little thing too long. They'd get all kinds of ideas." The bartender tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the bar. After a moment, he nodded his head.
"I'll get Meg's room cleaned out for you, clean sheets and such. She's that older whore sittin' over there by herself. She don't get took to her room much anymore. I ought to retire her to the kitchen," he added, more to himself than to Kane and D'lise.
D'lise looked at the woman, and compassion for the used-up whore swept through her. Another victim of men, she thought sourly. She looked back at the pleasant-faced bartender. "I wouldn't want to turn her out of her room. Don't you have anything else?"
"No, there's nothin' else. Sometimes a trapper gets too drunk to go home, but he always sleeps on a pile of hay out in the shed with the horses. I wouldn't advise that for you, though. The roof leaks a bit."
Kane could feel the half-drunken patrons inching closer and closer behind him. What was wrong with the foolish girl, objectin' to takin' over a whore's room? he thought impatiently. She must be soft in the head. Afraid that D'lise might decide on the second option, he pressed, "Can you kinda hurry up the room? These vultures behind me are breathin' down my neck."
While D'lise was still insisting that it wasn't right to take the woman's bed, their host turned and disappeared into the kitchen. A minute later, he returned, a gangly youth following him.
"My son," he explained to Kane and D'lise as the teenager walked around the end of the bar, his arms full of bed linens. As he disappeared down a dimly lit hall leading from the tavern, Kane said what was expected of him.
"He's a fine-lookin' lad."
By the time the son returned and, without a word, walked back into the kitchen, a soiled sheet and pillowcase over his arm, the hill men were only about a foot behind Kane and D'lise.
Kane was wondering if he would have to kill some of them, or be killed himself, when the bartender said, "The room is ready, and just in time, from the looks of it."
His hand firmly on D'lise's arm, his grip so tight she was hard put not to cry out, Kane turned around slowly.
This time his other hand was on the handle of the pistol shoved in its holster. He would save the knife for hand-to-hand fighting, if it came to that.
The men, in a semi-circle now, didn't budge as they stared hungrily at D'lise's fresh beauty. With a nerve ticking in his jaw, Kane prepared himself to fight not only for D'lise's honor, but for his very life.
But when one man lifted a hand to her, a leer on his ugly face, Kane received help from a source he hadn't expected. Scrag let out such an unearthly scream, it shook him to the core of his being. And though everyone was startled, none was as surprised as the man who received the full force of the enraged feline that threw itself at him.
A yowl of pain rose to the rafters as the unwary man's face was raked with sharp claws. With loud oaths, the other men scrambled to get out of the way of the furious cat. Within moments there was ample space around Kane and D'lise.
"Come on, let's get the girl to your room before the men
recover from their scare," the tall proprietor said quietly.
Kane breathed a sigh of thanksgiving as he and D'lise followed the tall man down the tunnel-like hall, a still angry and upset tomcat walking beside his mistress. Kane had never come any closer to death in the war than he had back there in the tavern. And all for a woman who would never mean anything to him. He was too wise to let that happen. He knew for a fact that beautiful women were bad medicine.
The proprietor, who had introduced himself as Slim, opened a door at the end of the narrow hall and stepped aside so that D'lise and Kane could enter. The room was small, holding only a rickety table with a burning candle on it, a narrow cot-like bed, and a piece of mirror over a short shelf. Meg's clothing hung from pegs driven into the chinking between the log walls.
Slim walked over to the bed and bounced on the straw mattress a couple of times. "It's probably the best bed in the whole place." He grinned. "Like I said before, it don't get much use anymore." He straightened up and gave Kane a sly wink. "It don't seem to squeak much either. It won't give away to anyone what you two might get up to in here."
D'lise blushed a fiery red. She well understood what the man was alluding to. God knew she had heard enough bed-squeaking in the past ten years.
She was hit with a thought that made her fingers clench into fists. Did Kane Devlin plan on sharing that narrow bed with her?
Not if I can help it. Her eyes snapped as they flew around the room, looking for a window she could escape through if necessary. There was none. Only solid walls met her searching gaze. Her eyes ranged the room again, looking for a weapon of some kind she could use to fight the trapper off, should it come to that. There was nothing. Not even a chair.
Chapter Three
If Kane saw the uneasy alarm that jumped into D'lise's eyes, he didn't let on. He was too busy wondering how to deny the thinly veiled assumption that he would be making love to D'lise tonight. That wasn't the case, and he didn't want anyone thinking it.
The appearance of Slim's son carrying a tray of steaming food kept him from remarking on the issue for the time being. "Put Miss Alexander's share here, kid." He stepped aside, clearing the path to the table. "I'll have mine at the bar later."
A plate of thickly sliced venison roast, potatoes, and turnips was placed on the table, followed by flatware and a square of corn bread. D'lise's stomach rumbled, her hunger as great as her dread of what the night might bring.
When father and son were gone, closing the door behind them, D'lise edged toward the bed. Scrag was curled up in its center, his green eyes watching Kane. Could a cat be sicced on a person the same as a dog? she wondered.
She gave a startled jump when Kane said, "Sit down and eat while it's hot. Then I'd advise you to get into bed. It's cold and damp in here."
D'lise felt a sickening in the pit of her stomach. The time she dreaded was almost upon her. He would let her eat, then have his way with her on the rude little bed.
With her ankle swollen and throbbing, unable to bear her weight, D'lise felt tears gathering behind her eyes. She couldn't even run if she managed to get through the door. Her only hope was the doubtful help of Scrag.
She almost fainted from relief when Kane walked to the door and lifted the latch, saying, "Bar the door behind me."
Kane's lips twisted wryly as he stood outside the door waiting to hear D'lise drop the bar across the door. He had seen the fear on her face and knew that it came from believing that he meant to share her bed. She should know how very safe she was now, he thought with a thin smile.
When he heard the thump of the bar being put in place, he made his way back to the tavern room. He found a spot at the end of the bar and the bartender ambled over to him.
"I didn't expect to see you in here for a while." He gave Kane a sly smile. "I thought you'd probably try out the bed, see if it's to your likin', so to speak."
Although irritated at the sly innuendo, Kane ignored it. "I'm sure the bed is fine," he said coolly. "But right now I'm more interested in eatin' than I am in sleepin'."
If the proprietor intended to continue the conversation in the same vein, the warning look in Kane's cold eyes changed his mind. When his son placed a plate of meat and vegetables in front of Kane, Slim moved to the end of the bar.
The kid's cooking wasn't too bad, Kane thought after swallowing a couple of bites. Of course, anything would taste good after army grub.
When he had taken the edge off his hunger, Kane ate more slowly, letting his gaze wander over the whores, who stared at him boldly. He decided that after he tended to Snowy and Hound, he would finish off the night with the redhead.
Though the women were not very attractive, having plied their trade for quite a few years, he imagined she was the least comely of the lot. To make up for her lack of good looks, the whore was more vivacious than the others who moved about, coaxing men to accompany them to their rooms. Besides, it had always been his experience that women with red hair had more stamina than their sisters.
Kane's gray eyes shone wickedly. Whatever woman accommodated him tonight would need plenty of that. He'd been a long time without a woman.
His thoughts turned to the fresh young body at the end of the hall, and his manhood jumped and quivered. He swore under his breath and forced D'lise from his mind. He would have nothing to do with a beautiful woman. He hadn't gone soft in the head yet. Besides, his size would split that delicate little body of hers in two.
Kane had wiped his plate clean with the last piece of bread when Slim moved down the bar and took it away. When he had replaced it with a bottle of corn whiskey and a glass, he leaned an elbow on the bar and said in low tones, "I saw you eyein' Della. How can you possibly be interested in an ugly worn-out whore when you have that little beauty in your room?"
Kane's face darkened. It was none of the man's business who he slept with, but it was a logical question. It didn't make a bit of sense that he would prefer a whore over a young woman who was most likely a virgin. He tilted the bottle over the glass and filled it with the raw liquor, then looked up at Slim.
"The girl is my ward, you might say. I'm takin' care of her is all. You got any objections to that?"
"Not at all; I'm glad to hear it. Only thing is, you ought to pretend she's your woman. It'll look mighty strange if you don't spend some time with her. One of the men might get it into his head to go talk to Rufus, try to strike a deal for the girl's hand in marriage. You'd have a real fight on your hands then."
What Slim said made sense, Kane knew after mulling his words over. There was no doubt in his mind that Rufus would agree to most anything just to get back at the man who had crippled him.
He stared down into the glass of whiskey. Although he had no use for beautiful women, there was something about D'lise Alexander that made him feel protective toward her. Maybe it was because she reminded him of Hound in her helplessness to protect herself against her brutal uncle. And her life would be no better married to some dirty, ignorant hill man.
Slim's lips twitched in a slight smile of satisfaction when Kane left the bar and walked down the dark hall.
D'lise was sitting on the bed watching Scrag eat the part of her supper she had held back for him. She had a slight stomachache. It was not used to red meat, and so much of it. She yawned. It had been a long, grief-filled day, and the eruption of Kane Devlin into her life didn't help. The events of this day would normally span at least a year.
What lay in her future? she wondered. She couldn't just live with the trapper the rest of her life. Common sense told her that. But what was a penniless female without relatives to do? She reasoned that marriage was a natural answer, but she had no intention of resorting to that. She'd go into the woods and starve to death first.
Even the foolish thought of becoming a trapper entered her mind as she stood up and turned back the bed covers. Her lips twisted ruefully. Her brain was too muddled to think straight anymore. Maybe tomorrow, after a night of rest, she could come up with an answer
that made sense.
D'lise had just gathered up the hem of her dress, ready to pull it over her head, when the rap of knuckles on her door made her heart jump. Who was out there? Her eyes fastened on the heavy bar across the door. Would it hold? It looked sturdy enough.
"We'll just ignore it," she told Scrag. She picked up the cat and held him to her chest as though for protection. "Maybe they'll go away."
The cat was squirming to get out of her arms when the knock came again, this time louder and accompanied by Kane's voice. "D'lise, let me in."
"What does he want?" She spoke the thought out loud as Scrag jumped from her arms onto the bed. Deciding she couldn't ignore him, she walked over to the door and reluctantly lifted the bar. "I was just getting ready to go to bed," she said sharply, standing in the door, barring his entry.
"You can sleep later." Kane brushed her out of his path and walked inside the room. "I've got to spend some time with you." He sat down on the bed.
"Why?" D'lise closed the door and leaned against it, her eyes narrowed and watchful.
"Because if I don't, those vultures out there are gonna think that you aren't my woman and one or more of them will get it in his head to make you his. I could fight half of them off, but there's no way I could take on the whole bunch and win."
D'lise's face paled. The thought of belonging to one of those dirty hill men made her stomach roll. Still, she eyed Kane suspiciously. Was he telling her the truth? Did he really fear that some of the men would break down her door, or was he telling her that to frighten her, to get into her bed himself?
She knew the trapper well enough by now to know that he wouldn't stoop to subterfuge to get what he wanted. He'd come right out and ask—or demand.
"How long will you have to stay?" D'lise walked over to the bed and sat down on its very edge.
Humor lifted the corners of Kane's lips. "Only as long as those yahoos in the tavern think it will take me to perform. Five or ten minutes by their reckonin', I'd say. But we'll play it safe. I'll stick around for half an hour or so."
