The Half-Breed's Woman

by Cheryl Pierson

  “You will stand here, please.” Tolbert indicated a place beside Cara Manley. She stood facing her husband, Captain Tolbert beside him. The four soldiers ranged not too far away, guns trained professionally on Jaxson McCall’s midsection.

  “Romantic, huh?” Jax squeezed Callie’s fingers. “Guess I’d better not forget my lines. You may end up widowed before we ever consummate our vows.” He threw Tolbert a disdainful glance. “’Course, that might be the whole point.”

  Tolbert regarded the couple from his bruised and ravaged face as they stood where he had indicated. Oddly, there was no malice in his expression. Only the determination to see this duty finished. “Come, Marshal. Surely, you don’t think I’d stoop that low.”

  “It wouldn’t be such a long reach from where you already are, Captain.”

  Reverend Manley looked at Jax steadily for a long moment, as if trying to see down inside him. “Do you agree to this marriage, Jaxson?”

  He nodded. “I agree, preacher. Just make it short and sweet. The—uh, convincing still pains me a little.” Callie looked up at him quickly, and he kissed her fingers in reassurance. “I’m all right.”

  ****

  But was he? It seemed she’d heard a catch in his voice, like maybe he’d tried to draw a deep breath and couldn’t. She ran her thumb along the edge of his calloused hand.

  “And you, Callista?”

  Callie tore her gaze from Jax and looked at the reverend. “Are you agreeable to this union between the two of you, child?” The concern in the deep bass voice was so kind, it brought sudden tears to Callie’s eyes once more.

  She looked away from the preacher and nodded, words deserting her.

  Cara Manley patted her back. “Do you love him?”

  Callie met her eyes. “Yes,” she answered without hesitation.

  Cara smiled. “No tears, then, dearest. This is the beginning for you. A new life for you and Jax. Something to celebrate.”

  If you only knew, Callie thought. But she did as Cara said, dabbing at her eyes with the lace handkerchief the other woman extended.

  “Dearly Beloved,” Talmadge Manley began.

  Callie felt as if she were dreaming. She’d always thought her wedding day would be…well, much different than it was turning out to be. Marrying a man she loved, but one whom she wasn’t sure loved her just as completely. Dressed in a threadbare gown she’d washed and worn for over a month. Looking down the barrels of four rifles as she said “I do.”

  And what must Jax be thinking? He stood close and steady beside her, blatantly ignoring the armed soldiers and Captain Tolbert. He glanced down at her only once as they spoke their vows, repeating after the reverend. She was thankful for the heat of his body next to her own, the strong feel of his fingers against her trembling hand. But she knew him, knew how it went against the grain to be forced into this marriage with her.

  “Callie?” Cara Manley prodded, dragging her back to the present. She turned to look at the older woman.

  “Do you?” Cara asked seriously, and Callie knew what she had missed, lost in her musings.

  She nodded, looking back at the preacher. “Yes. I—I do.”

  Tal Manley gave her a faint smile. His look seemed to question. Did she have doubts? She glanced up into Jax’s obsidian eyes. Her own smile was fleeting and uncertain as she returned her gaze to Manley. But when she spoke, her voice did not falter.

  “I do, Reverend.”

  He nodded, satisfied. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Jaxson, you may kiss your bride.”

  Callie tilted her head back expectantly, and Jax dropped a swift, impersonal kiss on her lips. She opened her eyes as he pulled back. His expression was almost emotionless but for the stubborn flex of jaw muscle, and the storm in his dark gaze.

  Callie wanted to say something—anything—to keep him from turning into the cold stranger he’d suddenly become in the space of a few moments. In the time it took to take her as his wife. She shivered, and Jax immediately put his arm around her. She felt his breath catch, felt him force the steady flow carefully once more, avoiding her quick glance.

  Instead, he nodded at Reverend Manley. “Thank you, Reverend. Mrs. Manley.” Impeccably polite, he never spared Captain Tolbert a look. “I believe we need to sign the marriage certificate, don’t we?”

  Callie’s grip tightened inside his arm as she felt, more than heard, the unsteady cadence in his breathing once more. Now, she understood, and cursed herself for not realizing earlier. He was hurting more than he would ever let Tolbert see; he needed to end this quickly.

  Jax stepped forward to a small table where a pen and ink lay beside the hastily drawn document. Signing it quickly after Jax, Callie sprinkled some of the drying dust across the ink, then gingerly picked the fine vellum up. Jax needed to lie down. It was all she could think of as they started for the door.

  “Marshal.”

  Jax stopped and turned back to look at Tolbert contemptuously.

  “Shall I…send our doctor over to your cabin first? He’ll need to see to the men,” he nodded at the soldiers who, Callie noticed, all stood bloody and bruised as well. Her lips twisted slightly. Jax must have put up a hell of a fight before they had subdued him.

  “I mean, you are our guest, and—”

  Jax stood watching the captain as his words trailed away to nothing. He gave a mocking half-smile, raking Tolbert with his scathing stare. “No thanks, Captain. I don’t need a doctor. You go ahead and have him look at your men. And…see to yourself, of course.” He turned away, offering Callie his arm. Together, they walked back across the dusty street to their bungalow.

  Jax bolted the door behind them, and Callie moved away to turn the lamp wick down with shaking fingers. Jax began to slowly unbutton his shirt, giving a muttered curse.

  Callie came to stand beside him. “Jax? Did Captain Tolbert—” She touched his ribs.

  He threw her a quick glance, then turned to her fully, tossing his shirt onto his saddlebag by the door. “No. Those four soldiers he had escorting us around did. After they pulled me off of the bastard.”

  Callie began to remove the bandage. There were two large purpling bruises, just the shape of the butt of a rifle, over each side of his ribcage. She touched the angry stitches of the knife wound, felt the heat of fever there. Jax sucked in his breath, flinching at her cool touch.

  “Come lie down,” she murmured.

  “Hmm. I don’t know,” he said dubiously, a hint of a tease in his voice. “You think that bed’s big enough for both of us?”

  She whacked him lightly on the shoulder. “I’m sure we’ll make do, Marshal.” She moved to pull off his boots as he sat down. He lay back carefully on the cool sheets, his gaze following her about the small room as she poured water in the basin, then sat beside him on the bed and began to sponge away the blood from his face and neck.

  “What happened, darling?” she asked after a moment.

  He sighed. “The good captain confronted me about your identity as soon as the reverend left for the evening. Said he knew who you were, and he wasn’t going to risk having his commission pulled over a scandal. So…the choice was mine. Either we could be married, or you would be detained here for as long as he decided.”

  Callie shuddered. “During which time, as he stated, I would be under his ‘protection’.”

  Jax smiled. “See? Being Mrs. Jaxson McCall doesn’t look so bad after all.”

  Callie stopped moving the rag over his chest and raised her eyes to meet his. When he’d spoken, she’d heard that bare trace of vulnerability in his tone, and in his eyes, it was clearly discernible, even in the dim lamplight.

  He’d protected her from the rest of the world—even from herself and her own dark imaginings. He’d made her laugh, teased her, taken her worries and fears and made them seem almost unimportant.

  “It never looked bad, Jaxson,” she murmured softly. It was time to be honest. To say what she had wanted to say for a long, long time. She took a
deep breath and began, before her courage failed her. “I—I don’t know when it happened, or how, but I—somehow, I’ve let myself fall in love with you. Very much in love.”

  “Callie, don’t.” His voice was hoarse. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Oh, Jax, why won’t you just believe me! You make it so blasted hard…to say what I want to say. What I need to say! When I asked you, tonight, to—to really ask me to marry you, it was because it was something I wanted! More than anything. I wanted to be your wife, but not at the end of four loaded rifles!”

  Jax lay completely still, watching her. They were silent for a few moments, then Callie went on. “I…lied to you when I told you I gave you the only thing of value that I had left.” She forced herself to meet his eyes. “I have no dowry, Jax, but I do have some jewelry.” She rose and walked to where her valise lay beside his saddlebag. She opened it, and took out the jewel case, then returned and knelt beside the bed. “These are mine.” She held the case out to him tentatively. “Ours, now, Jax.” She hurried on, as he slowly lifted the lid of the case. “We can sell them and–and buy a stake. Some cattle or…or land—whatever you want—”

  ****

  Jesus. A king’s ransom in rubies. But more important, the love of the woman kneeling beside him, offering him, truly, the only valuable she had left. The only thing that stood between her and destitution. She was handing him her future, and he held it in his hands, glittering in the lamplight.

  “Callie.” His voice was husky, rough, but infinitely tender. “You trust me so much, sweetheart? This is everything you own, isn’t it?”

  As she lay her head beside him, he laced his hands through her hair, thoughtfully fingering the silken mass of burnished copper. She nodded, not answering.

  “Think long and hard about what you’re saying, Callie. I’m…not your only choice. Once we’re out of here, we can get this marriage annulled—if you want—”

  Her head came up swiftly. “Is that what you want, Jaxson? Truly? To walk away and pretend we never knew each other, never made love together—”

  “Shh, no, baby, it’s not what I want.” He put a roughened finger against her lips.

  “Then, what? Is it the idea of marriage itself that repels you—or marriage to me?”

  “Dammit, Callie, you’re young, you’re beautiful—educated—”

  “A fugitive.”

  “We’ll get that set straight, sweetheart, and then your whole life will be open to all kinds of possibilities—not just marriage to a—a half-breed U.S. deputy marshal, for God’s sake!”

  “I happen to be in love with a half-breed U.S. deputy marshal! One that I want to spend my life with! Remember, Jax? Remember? ‘Laugh with me, love with me, have babies with me—’ Remember?” She moistened her lips, her voice carrying the husky edge of tears, her emotions raw.

  Roughly, with a muttered curse, he dropped the case on the bed and pulled her to him. He held her tightly as she scrambled to move herself away from him. He speared his fingers through her soft, tumbling hair, loving the feel of it against his fingertips and across the bare skin of his neck and shoulder.

  “Jax! Stop it! I don’t want to hurt—”

  “You aren’t going to hurt me, Callie. Not like you mean. Physical pain, I can deal with. Emotional pain, that’s a little harder.” He pulled her back against him, but she resisted, turning her head as he tried to kiss her. He shifted to his left side, throwing a bare leg across her, forcing her head around to look at him.

  “Can I trust you, Callie?” His eyes were hot, burning into hers. “If I give you my heart, can I trust you?”

  “Jax—” Callie murmured, stopping her thrashing at the hoarse, raw emotion in his voice, the intensity in his eyes. He held her arms tightly in his hands. “I will never, hurt you, Jaxson. Never.” Their lips were only a hairsbreadth apart, her voice a soft whisper, gliding across his skin. “I love you, Jax.” She moistened her lips. “I love y-”

  His lips slanted across hers, cutting off the rest of her words. She opened her mouth for him, and his tongue entered her in a promise of what he planned to do to her body in a few short minutes. Boldly, she touched his tongue with hers, and his fingers tensed against her scalp. He had turned until his body almost completely covered hers, pinning her beneath him. Finally, he lifted his head. “I’ll never let you go, girl. That’s one thing you better know. If we make love tonight, you’re mine, Callie. Forever.”

  She lifted her mouth to his, nipping at his lower lip, drawing it gently between her teeth. He groaned in pleasure, heat flooding through him, all pain forgotten, even though he lay across her where his ribs had taken their earlier brutal punishment at the hands of Tolbert’s men.

  He felt her hands at his fly, unbuttoning the Levis as she had earlier this morning, and he lifted himself to give her better access. God knew, she’d need it in order to free the buttons pulled tight in their holes across his straining hardness.

  “I want to be. Yours, forever,” Callie whispered.

  Her fingers worked with the fly buttons, releasing him, and he turned from her to rise, but she put a staying hand on his corded chest.

  “Let me.” She began to pull his jeans down, away from his body, and he moved to help her, watching as she dropped them in a heap on the floor. She stood up and began to unbutton her dress, standing in the pool of creamy light that the lamp cast across the little area beside the bed.

  ****

  He lay silently until she finished, his gaze roving over her nude body as she turned to drop her clothes atop his. When she moved back to face him, he found it hard to breathe.

  Beautiful. Her hair cascaded about her, and Jax was suddenly reminded of Blue Feather’s words. It is like living sunlight. Like golden flame.

  But Blue Feather had only gotten it half right, Jax realized. Callie was the sunlight, the flame in his world now. Her very presence was like the life-giving light of the sun, her existence the flame of warmth and caring in his heart.

  “What are you thinking?” Callie’s voice was uncertain and she stood, watching him as his gaze roamed over her.

  “How beautiful you are,” he answered with no hesitation, then after a moment, “and, how lucky I am.”

  Callie blushed and carefully climbed over him into bed. “Not lucky, Jaxson. This couldn’t have been chance. It was meant to be, for us.”

  He blew out the lamp and turned toward her. The small cabin was cold without benefit of a fireplace. It was poorly constructed, with chinks and gaps between the logs where the builder had been either too lazy or ignorant to fill with mud paste.

  “Not the wedding night I would’ve planned,” he murmured. The wind howled, and Callie shivered, moving close to him. He covered her carefully with their blankets.

  She smiled as he tucked the blanket in around the contours of her body. “You take such care of me, Jax. Every minute. And we’ve got what’s important,” she whispered. Wordlessly, she reached out and put her hand on his chest, over his heart. “I’ve given you everything now. Including my heart.”

  Jax searched her face. There was only love and need in her eyes. He allowed her to gently push him back down onto the bed. “Just rest a minute,” she told him.

  Oddly enough, he realized he needed to. It wasn’t that the pain was at an intolerable level, it just seemed to worry at him, to wear him down. Lying on his back, he barely felt it—a relief he hadn’t even known he needed. But Callie had. It shocked him that she already knew him well enough to be able to read the small things—things that could take some couples years to learn and identify in one another.

  Her fingers strayed downward, dipping into the indention of his navel. Jax drew in his breath, letting it out slowly.

  She moved her fingers lower, touching the corded muscles in his thighs and around to the hard curve of his buttocks. She began to knead the bunched muscles gently but firmly, and Jax let out a long, contented sigh.

  “That is…so…good.”

  Ca
llie smiled, trailing her hand around and lower, until she touched the hard shaft. His breath caught and held.

  Callie laughed. “Breathe, Jaxson.” She gently ran a nail across the taut skin, and Jax let the air rush out of him. He reached for her, but she tantalized him, keeping just out of his grasp.

  “Let’s see. This morning I believe we talked about…kissing something and making it better.” Her voice was a husky tease.

  He said her name in a rough warning.

  She flicked her tongue out, licking at him quickly. His hips strained upward, but she moved back, and he groaned in frustrated agony.

  He took a deep, steadying breath. “Callie,” he whispered harshly. “Don’t—Don’t tease me like this.”

  “Well, what is it you want, Jaxson? Maybe, you’d better tell me.”

  “Everything,” he answered without hesitation, “and then some.”

  “You are so greedy.”

  “And so good, if you give me a chance, witch.”

  “Don’t be arrogant,” she whispered, licking at him again.

  He gasped, then let his breath out on a long, slow sigh of pleasure. “It’s not bragging,” he managed to grit out, “if you can back it up.”

  Callie laughed, and he rolled atop her, his own lips curving in triumph at her surprise. Then, he proceeded to show her just how truly talented he was, and that his arrogance was not unfounded.

  Chapter 17

  Dunstan Treadwell jammed the telegram into his coat pocket. Damn Wolf Blocker! Why hadn’t he finished off Callista and Marshal McCall yet? Surely, it couldn’t be that difficult to do away with two people. After all, it was what Blocker was getting paid to do.

  Turning up his collar, he stepped out into the dismal December day. The little silver bell on the telegraph office door tinkled cheerily as he pulled the handle behind him, harder than necessary.

  Absently, Treadwell threaded his way down the street, past the shops and business offices. He turned the corner and headed for the house on Fifth Street, wishing desperately that the telegram had brought more positive news. He wouldn’t rest until he knew that Callie was dead. If she ever told anyone what he’d envisioned for her, he could be ruined.