Cowboys Don't Quit

by Anne McAllister

  "Jill! I need— I've got to—"

  She nodded frantically and drew him down to her, brought him into her. "Yesss! Oh, Luke, yes."

  Yes. That's what it was. Yes. An affirmation. A connection. A tie to another human being. Not just any human being. Jill.

  Jill, whom he had watched from afar. Jill, whom he had kept at a distance. Jill, whose smiles and understanding and faith had always been just out of reach.

  But now, right now, she was his.

  She was warm and sweet and slick, and she welcomed him eagerly. She smiled at him. She stroked his face and touched his lips, fitted her body to his. And in her arms Luke found heaven. Or at least he did until his passion ebbed and sanity returned.

  And then he felt like hell for what he'd done.

  He'd taken Keith's woman.

  The one thing he'd sworn he would never do. The one thing he had managed not to do even when he'd wanted to. The one last shred of self-respect that he'd clung to— even when all the rest had deserted him—abandoned him now.

  He rolled away from her, anguished and ashamed, and shoved himself off the bed. He yanked up his shorts and jeans, his fingers fumbling in his haste. He couldn't look at her. Couldn't even look down at himself.

  "Luke?" Her voice was soft, questioning, worried.

  And like a wounded animal, he lashed out. "Satisfied?" he asked her. "Is that what you wanted? How do I compare?"

  She looked at him, stricken.

  He spun away, unable to face the anguish on her face. She didn't say anything for what seemed like an eternity. He turned away.

  He heard the cot creak as she sat up. She made no move to cover herself as she got off the bed. He didn't look at her, anyway. He stared out the window, his jaw clenched tight, his hands fisted inside the pockets of his jeans, as she picked up her clothes and put them on.

  "Compared to Keith, you mean?" she said when at last she was dressed. She walked to the door and opened it, then looked back over her shoulder at him. "Compared to Keith, you're an ass."

  It wasn't anything he didn't call himself. In fact, he called himself that and other things several thousand times worse over the next three days.

  His anger was almost savage. He took an axe and practically mowed down an entire stand of quaking al-pens. When he finished, exhausted and drenched witt sweat, he rationalized that he had enough to replace the wrangle-pasture fence. He knew damned well he had enough to fence a quarter of Colorado, but he pretended he didn't.

  It was really just a way to work off the fury and the pain he felt. Fury at himself for what seemed the ultimate betrayal of Keith's friendship. Pain at having to turn his back on what had been the most beautiful ex-perience of his life.

  When he dared remember the way he'd felt in his arms, the way she'd felt in his, the way she'd giving herself so completely, so selflessly to him, he ached all over again.

  But even as he recalled the sweet fulfillment of the brief connection, he knew he had had no right to pursue her. He'd always known it.

  And yet he'd taken her. Taken her sweetness and her love, and then lashed out at her, blamed her for giving him what he'd wanted.

  Oh, yes. He was an ass.

  "You're lookin' kinda peaked. Cows been keepin' you up late?" Jimmy grinned down at him from the back of his big buckskin gelding.

  Luke straightened up from the posthole he'd been digging and wiped a hand across his stubbled jaw. "They keep me busy." And if they weren't the reason he hadn't been sleeping this past week, he damned well wasn't telling Jimmy so.

  "Brought the salt up." Jimmy jerked his head at the packhorse trailing behind him on which he had loaded five fifty-pound bags of salt. "Thought I'd better get on it now. Don't want to be out of shoutin' distance much longer. Annette's already big as Riley's barn and she's swellin' some. She's gotta stay off her feet till her time comes. And when it does, I better be there."

  "Leave the salt. I'll put it out when I'm finished here," Luke said as he bent to the hole again.

  "Naw, it's okay. She won't need me today. She'll be fine. Besides, Jill's with her—"

  "What?" Luke's head jerked around.

  Jimmy nodded cheerfully. "It's workin' out swell. She likes the peace and quiet, says she can get a lot of writing done. I don't see how, myself. She's always cookin' and bakin' and running to help out when Annette needs something. She even keeps an eye on Jimmy, Jr."

  Luke rubbed a hand across his mouth, then spat out the dirt he'd managed to get in it. "Good for her."

  "Er, it...ain't a problem is it, her stayin'?" Jimmy asked, apparently struck suddenly by the notion that Luke, as his boss and the owner of the ranch, might have something to say about it.

  "I'm just surprised." He'd thought she'd be on the first plane out, desperate to put as many miles between herself and Lucas Tanner as she could manage.

  "She's a trooper. Works like a Trojan. Wouldn't have figured it, a fast-lane lady like her. But she doesn't seem that way at all. She's just like regular folks. But then, I reckon you already know that."

  Luke grunted. He didn't need her virtues extolled.

  "Reckon she'd make a good wife. Wonder somebody don't snap her up."

  "Keith was going to," Luke reminded him harshly.

  A frown flickered across Jimmy's lean face as he re-fleeted on that. "Yeah, right." He scratched his head. "Don't suppose you could maybe double for him with Jill, too?"

  Luke slammed the shovel into an aspen branch so hard that the wood snapped. "Go put out the damned salt!"

  He got most of the row of postholes finished, moved the bull out of the pasture, driving him back up the mountain so he could earn his keep with the cows, and moved a dozen or so cattle out of the creek bottom. He lost a calf that had fallen into the swift current of the river and, wet and cursing his bad luck, finally got back to the cabin after five.

  Jimmy's horse was standing in front of it, reins hang-ing down.

  Luke was surprised he'd stayed around. With Annette so close to her due date, he'd figured Jimmy'd hightail, it home as soon as he finished. He dismounted, unsad-died and turned his horse out, expecting Jimmy to come out of the cabin when he saw Luke was back. He didn't.

  It wasn't that uncommon for Jimmy to leave his horse untied to graze, but it was wholly unlike him not to loosen the cinch and let the buckskin have a breather.

  Luke caught up the reins and rubbed the horse's neck. "Hey, fella, where's Jim?"

  The horse stood placidly under his touch. He rubbed a hand down its side. The big gelding looked as if he'd been standing awhile. The sweat was already dry on his neck.

  "Jim? Hey, Jimmy?" Luke gave a shout, then strodled up to the cabin and poked his head in. Jimmy wasn't there. Luke muttered under his breath.

  He changed quickly into dry clothes, saddled a fresh horse for himself and one for Jimmy, turned the buckskin out in the pasture and headed up the mountain.

  It took him over an hour, and he was well beyond the third salt lick, when he finally heard a faint reply to one of his yells.

  "Here!" came a voice rough with pain. "Up here."

  Luke spurred his horse up the hill. He could see Jimmy lying beside an outcrop of rocks, his hat off, his red hair disheveled, his face white with pain. His right leg lay crookedly and he winced as he tried to lift himself onto his elbows when Luke rode up. The packhorse was at the far end pf the alpine meadow, still half-loaded with salt.

  "Rattler spooked m'horses," Jimmy said. "They both ran off. Packer didn't get too far. I broke m'leg, Luke," he said miserably. "Mighta done my wrist, too."

  Luke swung down and crouched beside him, running his hands lightly down Jimmy's leg. He could feel the displacement. It sent shivers down his spine.

  "I'll try to bring the truck up."

  Jimmy shook his head. "Help me on the horse."

  "You can't—"

  "Lemme try. At least lemme try. Give me a hand up."

  Luke straightened. Jimmy held out a hand. Luke shook his head. "L
et me lift you from behind. Your back okay?"

  "Think so." Jimmy gritted his teeth as Luke came around and slipped his hands beneath his arms, then slowly and carefully began to raise him.

  "Oh, hell—" Jimmy's breath whistled out as he bit off an expletive. Sweat broke out on his face.

  "You gonna faint?"

  "No." The answer came through clenched teeth. "Get rne over to the damn horse."

  Luke remembered the white-hot pain when he'd bro-ken his leg in Spain. He could see it searing Jimmy now. He admired Jimmy's courage, admired his grit and de-termination. "Here now. You're up. Okay?"

  Jimmy looked as if he was going to faint. '"Kay," he said numbly.

  Luke swung back into the saddle. "All set?"

  Jimmy, pale as death, gave a jerky nod of his head.

  It was past dark when they got down to where the rutted trail down the mountain reached the narrow dim lane. "I'll ride on ahead," Luke said, "and bring back the truck. You just keep comin'. Okay?"

  Jimmy hadn't said a word all the way down the mountain, but it was too dark for Luke to see a nod, so he managed a "yes." Then, with supreme effort, he added, "Don't upset Annette."

  Luke didn't have to. He could tell she was a wreck the moment he saw her face in the window, peering out anxiously, when he rode in. At first she'd looked relieved to see a rider. Then she opened the door, saw Luke, and the color drained from her face.

  "What happened? Where is he?"

  "He's okay. He broke his leg, that's all. He's coming. I'm taking the truck." He dismounted.

  Annette was halfway down the steps. "I'm coming, too."

  Luke took in her barnlike figure and the fact that she couldn't walk, only waddle. "The hell you are."

  "He's my—"

  "No."

  "What's wrong?" Jill appeared suddenly, silhouetted in the doorway. When she saw Luke, her expression grew grim. She turned away from him, asking Annette, "What's the matter? What happened to Jim?"

  "Broke his leg. Luke's going to get him in the truck. I want to go with him."

  "Luke can bring him down better alone. Come on." Jill hurried down the steps and took Annette's arm. "You call the doctor. That way he'll be expecting Jimmy at the hospital."

  Luke sent a silent blessing her way, grateful for her calm common sense and for the fact that she was already leading Annette back into the house. He followed them in and snagged the truck keys off the hook by the door. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

  "Hurry," Annette urged him.

  He started to reach out a hand to get Jill's attention, then dropped it. "Thanks," he said.

  She ignored him completely.

  He met Jimmy halfway, got him down off the horse and stretched out in the bed of the truck. Then he tied the horse onto the back and drove slowly down the lane toward the ranch house. Jimmy was holding his own when they got there. He slid forward on the truck bed until he sat on the gate. Annette was waiting on the porch.

  "Oh my God," she said when she saw him. He looked paler than ever in the cold glare of the light atop the post near the house. He took hold of Luke's arm and tried to stand. He went down like a ton of bricks.

  "Jimmy!" Annette shrieked.

  Jimmy, Jr., sucking his thumb in the refuge of Jill's arms, started to cry.

  Luke cursed under his breath. "He only fainted."

  "Jimmy!" Annette was frantic now.

  "He'll be all right," Jill said soothingly as Luke dragged Jimmy's inert body onto the truck bed again. "It's better that he's fainted. He won't feel the pain."

  "But—" Annette was trying to clamber onto the back of the truck with him, pushing her way past Luke.

  "Damn it. Get out of here!" Luke snapped.

  Jill gave him a disapproving look and tried to catch Annette by the arm. "Let Luke take him. You shouldn't even be up, let alone exerting like this. You don't wani to have this baby right now, do you?"

  "I won't. Let me go! He needs me!"

  "Ma-ma!" Jimmy, Jr. wailed in Jill's arms as his mother tried to push Jill away.

  Luke let go of Jimmy and grabbed her by her shoulders. "Stop it. He doesn't need you now. Your baby's the one who needs you."

  Annette stared at him, white-faced and shaking.

  He scooped her up bodily and lifted her out of the truck, then set her on her feet, holding her steady. "All the way down the mountain, he worried about you. You and the baby. That was what mattered to him. Not himself. Understand? So you're not doin' anything that will jeopardize that baby."

  "That's right," Jill put in, surprising him. "Let Luke take him, Annette. You come and lie down. You'll be of more use to him later."

  Annette looked from Jill to Luke to the still body of her husband in the back of the truck. Silent tears ran down her face.

  Jill slipped an arm around her and pulled her away from Luke. He let her go. "Shh," Jill said. "It's all right."

  "I'm so bad at this," Annette said, her voice wobbling. "I'm supposed to be brave. Jimmy says ranchers' wives are brave."

  "Has Jimmy ever been a rancher's wife?" Jill asked archly, and Luke couldn't help swallowing a smile.

  Annette blinked. "What?"

  "Never mind," Jill said. She gave Annette a squeeze. "You're doing fine. All you have to be is Annette. That's enough. Come on, now." She drew her toward the house. "Luke will call when he has news." She gave him a look that said he'd better.

  "Soon as 1 know," he promised.

  Annette hesitated. "I want—"

  "Damn it!" Luke exploded. "I'm his boss. He got hurt working for me. I'll see to this. What if you go into labor? Jimmy said you've been having problems. What if you lose that baby?"

  She looked at him, shocked.

  "It could happen," he said ruthlessly. "Do you want to go through the rest of your life thinking you killed your kid?"

  "Luke!" Jill's voice was furious.

  But he was beyond caring. He glared at Annette now, wracked with his own guilt over Keith, over Tanner and Clare's baby, damned if he was going to let anyone else make a foolish choice.

  Annette shrank back from his anger, seeking comfort along with her son in Jill's arms. "You'll call?"

  "I said I would." Luke promised again, then met Jill's reproachful gaze. "Keep her here." Then he turned on his heel and headed for the truck.

  Five

  There were plenty of advantages to living in rural America. One of them was that the doctor you were taking your hired man to might be your brother-in-law by marriage. The disadvantage was that he might also be the man your ex-sister-in-law had married after divorcing your own brother.

  Still, regardless of family complications, Russ Mo-berly would do his best, Luke knew.

  He just had to get back from Durango.

  "What the hell's he in Durango for?" Luke demanded when the starched white brigade met him at the door, loaded Jimmy onto a gurney and trundled him into the emergency room, transferred him to the X-ray table and left Luke to sit. And sit.

  "He went to a golf tournament and banquet," the nurse on duty told him apologetically. Her name was Lucy Campbell and she'd been a couple of years ahead of him in high school. She'd been almost as reckless as he'd been in those days. Now she wore a wedding ring, and he could see photos of a trio of little girls tacked to the bulletin board behind her desk.

  "And he didn't leave anyone to cover?"

  "Dr. Milliken is here. But there was an accident on the highway just this side of the pass. He's operating right now." Lucy grimaced. "Then he's got another one. After that, it's Jimmy's turn. Don't worry."

  He worried anyway. Not about Jimmy, but about Annette. He could still see her white-faced panic. He debated the merit of calling. He didn't have anything to report, after all. But he thought she'd probably worry more if he didn't.

  Jill answered the phone. "How is he?"

  "Doc's not here. At least Russ isn't. The doc who's covering for him is workin' on somebody else."

  "So I can't tell her anything?"
/>
  "You can tell her not to worry. Hell, it's just a broken leg."

  "Another time she might find that comforting. Right now she's been depending on him, looking to him for strength, and he fainted right in front of her."

  "Not on purpose!"

  "I know that," Jill said, "but she's emotional. It's the pregnancy. She can't help it."

  "Well, make her help it, damn it!"

  "By bullying her into it the way you do?"

  "I never claimed to be a nice guy."

  "What, and lie?"

  Luke's teeth snapped shut. He deserved it; he knew it, but it didn't make it any easier to take. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of movement down toward the operating room.

  "Gotta go," he said. "I'll be in touch when some-thing happens."

  Nothing did for hours. It was well past two in the morning when, almost simultaneously, Doc Milliken fi-ished with his second accident victim and was able to deal with Jimmy and Russ Moberly shouldered his way through the door and tossed his jacket on the counter.

  "Golf banquet?" Luke said to him.

  Russ flushed. "Once a year. And they're tearing up the pass. Let's have a look at you," he said, turning to Jimmy.

  At last things began to happen. It was a nasty break. It would need surgery. On that both Doc Milliken and Russ agreed. The wrist was broken, too, but not as badly.

  "We'll just cast it," Russ said.

  "It's my ropin' hand," Jimmy muttered, then moaned as they settled him back onto the gurney to move him to the operating room. "Call Annette," he instructed Luke as the doors opened and then began to swing shut behind him. "Tell her I'm fine."

  But when Luke rounded the corner into Admitting to use the telephone, he found Jill.

  "I thought I told you not to bring Annette down! Take her home! Damn it, you get her down here, all riled up, and what do you think she's going to do?"

  "Have the baby."

  "Damn right. So—"

  "Too late. She's having it."

  He blanched. "The baby? She's havin' the baby? Now?"

  "They've taken her down to be prepped."