Midnight Marriage

by Victoria Bylin

  Susanna smiled at the admiration in his voice. “No, it’s a family talent.”

  When another gunman showed himself, Rafe took a shot and missed. Susanna had a better angle and fired a split second later. The bullet struck the man in the chest and sent him sprawling behind the rock. Only his boots showed, dusty and twitching as he drew his last breath. If he was the man who’d slit the bank teller’s throat, justice had been done. And if he’d been one of the onlookers, he still had it coming.

  Susanna felt Rafe’s gaze on her face. He had to be wondering where she had hidden her gun. Considering she had just saved his life, she decided it was time to bargain. “I want my shoes back.”

  “You can have them,” he said. “Heck, I’ll buy you new ones.”

  A bullet ricocheted off the lip of the cave.

  “Watch the rocks to your left,” she said. “Someone’s running for cover.

  Rafe took aim and fired, but they both knew the shot was impossible. The man was running like a rabbit and a hundred yards away. Seconds after he disappeared into the trees, a trio of riders galloped across the far end of the valley and disappeared through the cut that led to a southern trail.

  Rafe lowered the Winchester. “That was Lester Benton. He’ll be back with ten men. We have to get moving.”

  Susanna glanced at Nick, who was sitting up in a drugged stupor. With every minute that passed, the infection was spreading deeper into his body. “We have to go to town,” she said. “There’s no choice.”

  “No!” The sad cry came from Nick. “I want to stay with Rafe.”

  If her patient had been an adult, Susanna could have laid out the facts. Instead she became aware of the holes in her stockings and Zeke Benton’s corpse. Something painful had welded Nick to Rafe LaCroix and the trouble wasn’t over. Nonetheless, she had earned the right to speak her mind. “My boots, please.”

  “Put them on quick,” Rafe said, tossing them at her feet. “We’re leaving, but we’re not headed to town.”

  Earlier he’d been ready to buy the lady doctor new boots and something pretty to say thanks for saving his life. Rafe had been a dead man when he’d gone for his gun. At best he and Zeke would have traded bullets, but Rafe hadn’t even pulled the trigger when Benton’s eyes had rolled back in his head. The magnitude of the doctor’s decision hadn’t escaped him. Even though he’d treated her badly, she’d spared his life when she could have shot him dead or dinged him in the leg.

  All that kindness gave Rafe a headache. He didn’t like owing favors to anyone, especially to a woman who could outshoot him. She was also doing a fine job of distracting him from the threat imposed by the Bentons. After stowing the gun in her medical bag, she had dropped to her bottom and bent her knee to put on her boots. Rafe had glimpsed her calf and a bit more.

  She must have felt him staring, because she lowered her knee and glared at him. “Not only are you selfish, Mr. LaCroix, you have the manners of a stray dog.”

  She had a point. She had also picked up on his last name while he didn’t know hers. Dr. Sue was fine for Nick, but Rafe refused to use the nickname. It made him feel like a little boy. Determined to remind her that he was a man—and an able one—he decided to turn on the charm.

  “You’re right,” he said, extending his hand. “I’ve forgotten my manners. My name’s Rafe LaCroix. I’m the bounty hunter who turned in Frank Benton. His sons aren’t too happy with me, especially since I rode with them for a few months to get the drop on their pa. I owe you for saving my life.”

  His fingers looked like bare sticks until she grasped them. Using his strength for leverage, she pushed to her feet, faced him and shook his hand like a man. “I’m Dr. Susanna Leaf. I may have saved you from Zeke, but you were protecting Nick and me. I appreciate that.”

  When she tightened her grip, Rafe squeezed a bit harder. Their eyes locked with an unspoken challenge. If she wanted to arm wrestle, he’d oblige. But not according to her rules. Instead of breaking the handshake with a manly jerk, he eased his hold and brushed his fingers against her palm. The gesture was both suggestive and polite, a trick he used to gauge a woman’s sophistication. Dr. Leaf’s eyes narrowed, a sign that she understood what he had done and hadn’t liked it.

  As he lowered his hand to his side, he felt a niggle of worry. He’d heard the Leaf name before. Whenever Lem cozied up with a pint of whiskey, he’d told stories about his days with the Too Tall gang. The tales had gotten wilder over the years, particularly the ones about an outlaw-turned-preacher who still carried a gun. The last thing Rafe needed was an irate father hunting for his little girl.

  Dreading her reply, he asked, “Are you any relation to John Leaf?”

  “He’s my father.”

  Rafe held in a curse. He’d planned to let her go right away, but the Bentons and Nick’s condition made that impossible. “You’re not going to make it home today like I planned. Do I need to worry about a search party?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe. I usually leave a note on the blackboard outside my office. It’ll depend on who comes by and what they see.”

  Rafe’s memory flashed to the mess in the exam room. If a passerby saw the overturned table through the window, the whole town would be looking for her. Nonetheless, going to Midas was riskier than running. Rafe shook his head. “We’re not going back.”

  “Why not?”

  “That’s my business.”

  The pity in her eyes stripped him to bare skin. But even worse was the shake of her head. “You should have told me the truth. I would have left a note like always and never told a soul that we’d met.”

  Like hell, Rafe thought. No one believed him, not ever. “You’d have thought I was lying. I couldn’t take that chance.”

  “You took an even bigger risk when you drew on Zeke Benton.”

  “That was different.” Rafe wasn’t afraid of dying. He and the Almighty had parted ways in a New Orleans graveyard. He no longer cared about heaven, hell or anything in between, but he did trust in his own bad luck. It followed him like a rabid dog, snarling at anyone who stood too close. Right now, that short list included Nick and the lady doctor. “We have to get moving.”

  But Dr. Leaf didn’t budge. “I know why you did it.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “You were protecting Nick and me. It was good of you.”

  The respect in her voice made him ache for the oblivion he found with whiskey and whores. Or worse, for the peace of waking up sober in a clean bed. Until Nick came along, Rafe hadn’t given a thought to settling down. Nor did he ever look at a woman with more than sex on his mind. But the lady doctor…ah, hell. He needed to get to Mexico where all the ladies had brown eyes and long legs. And not a single one had a medical degree.

  But first he needed to take care of Nick. “There was a fork in the road a few miles back. Where does it go?”

  “To a ranch, but we can’t go there.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because the man who owns it has three daughters. I don’t want the Bentons anywhere near that place.”

  Neither did Rafe, but he couldn’t think of another solution. “You said yourself that Nick needs a clean bed. I expect you can use the kitchen for a surgery.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “We don’t have a choice.” An ugly thought crossed Rafe’s mind. His guardian angel had connections all over the West. If the rancher had an interest in the railroad, it was possible he’d recognize Rafe. “What’s this fellow’s name?”

  “Timothy Duke.”

  “How big is his place?”

  Her eyes narrowed with disgust. “If you’re planning on breaking into the family safe, don’t waste your time. He’s not a wealthy man.”

  Once before, Rafe had cracked a safe. It had been in his father’s study where a life-size portrait of the man’s wife had watched his every move. He’d left that night with a load of cash, a price on his head and no regrets.

  “I don’t care about his money,” he said.
“Lester Benton is going to be looking for a hideout, some place that’s worth robbing but not too much of a challenge. How impressive is the house?”

  Her eyes clouded. “It’s bigger than most.”

  “Then it’s settled. Nick needs shelter and the family needs to be warned. Does this man have a wife? I don’t want a bunch of gossip.”

  The lady doctor shook her head. “Bethany died in childbirth. It’s been five years, but he still misses her.”

  Had that cozy tone come from the woman who’d shot Zeke Benton in the head? Rafe couldn’t believe his ears. Unless he missed his guess, she had feelings for Timothy Duke. The information could prove useful, so he tucked it away like a new penny. “We’ll leave as soon as I pack up.”

  She looked him straight in the eye. “I have a requirement of my own. I don’t want Tim to know how we met. It would be best if he thought I came willingly, which I would have.”

  The request surprised him. “That suits me just fine, but I don’t see why it matters.”

  “Because he worries.”

  Rafe teased her with a grin. “Don’t trouble yourself, Dr. Leaf. My lips are sealed. I don’t need a jealous beau chasing after me.”

  “He’s not my beau.”

  She’d made her voice insistent, but Rafe could see that she liked the idea. He was tempted to tease her some more, but there wasn’t time. “We’ll tell him what he needs to know. Nick and I are a couple of drifters who ran into the Bentons. I asked you to see to the boy’s wound and you agreed.”

  “That would have been the truth if you’d been honest,” she reminded him.

  Rafe looked pointedly at the medical bag. “Do you have any other surprises in there?”

  “Only what you’d expect—catgut, bandages and a bottle of chloroform.” She arched an eyebrow. “I’d dose you with it and take Nick to town, but he cares about you.”

  If Timothy Duke was the doctor’s weak spot, then Nick was his. “Don’t try it, Doc. You might be good with a gun, but I outweigh you by fifty pounds.”

  “You’d be unconscious before you could blink.”

  “I doubt it. When I wrestle with a woman, I win…and so does she.” He had tried to intimidate her, but she looked more bored than impressed.

  “We’re both wasting time,” she said. “You need to pack your things.”

  The lady doctor had a talent for being right. Annoyed, Rafe lifted the saddlebag and flung it over his shoulder. “Do what you can for Nick. I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

  Susanna had finished bandaging Nick’s leg when Rafe returned to the cave. She knew his last name now, but she couldn’t think of him as either Mr. LaCroix or Mr. James. He was a man with worries and they’d become unwitting allies in the battle to save Nick’s leg.

  When she stepped back, he dropped to a crouch next to the boy who had been drifting in and out of consciousness.

  “Are you ready for a ride in a fancy carriage?” For Nick’s benefit, he’d made his voice hardy.

  “I guess,” the boy replied. “But I can’t walk.”

  “You don’t need to. Put your arms around my neck and hold tight.”

  Nick had what Susanna called bird-bones—fragile limbs that seemed better suited to flying than doing chores. At the same time, his eyes were filled with courage born of trust in the man who was a mix of brother, father and friend.

  As Rafe pushed to his feet with Nick in his arms, he made a show of grunting. “Good grief, kid. You’re heavier than a horse.”

  As Nick offered a weak smile, Susanna lifted her medical bag and followed them out of the cave. The morning glare made her squint, but not before she noticed Zeke Benton’s body lying facedown on a patch of grass.

  Rafe’s boots chafed in the dirt as he walked past the corpse. “Don’t even think about burying him.”

  In spite of the warning in his voice, Susanna hesitated. Laying the man to rest was a way of putting the “right” back in “right and wrong,” but she also knew that the Bentons would be hunting for them.

  Rafe called to her from over his shoulder. “He’s not worth your prayers, Dr. Leaf. But if you’re feeling the need, ask the Almighty to send rain. A gully washer would hide our tracks.”

  Susanna looked at the sky and saw a slate of tarnished silver. Rain would protect them from the Bentons, but Nick was in danger of catching a chill. Behind the clouds she could imagine sunshine and blue sky. When she’d been a confused runaway, an old man named Silas had taught her to pray and she did so now—for their safety, Nick’s well-being, even for Rafe LaCroix.

  As surely as she had rips in her stockings, he had a hole in his soul that oozed bitterness like a wound formed pus. Susanna thought he and Nick had a lot in common. She could help the boy, but the man’s needs were beyond the medicines in her bag. Walking behind him, she wondered why he didn’t bother to cut his hair. It tagged him as a rebel—a man who’d spit in a person’s eye and enjoy it.

  But she also detected a lightness in his step as he avoided jostling Nick. The graceful stride emphasized the duster whipping around his calves and reminded her of his eyes as he’d looked at her legs. Heat rushed to her cheeks. For all of his rudeness, Rafe LaCroix was a handsome man with a sharp mind. How many bounty hunters carried a copy of The Odyssey in their saddlebags? Not many, she’d guess. The contradictions intrigued her almost as much as the I-dare-you look in his eyes.

  Susanna enjoyed a challenge more than most women. Whether she was battling pneumonia or playing checkers, she liked to win. So it seemed did Rafe LaCroix.

  She wanted to lag behind so she could observe him, but the surrey was in sight. He’d harnessed his packhorse to her rig and tied Lightning to a saddled pinto that must have belonged to Nick. On the back seat she saw an open bedroll. Rafe had placed Nick on the brocade and was tucking a blanket under the boy’s chin.

  Susanna set her bag on the floorboard and gripped the sides of the surrey. She was about to pull herself up to the passenger seat when Rafe clasped her shoulder.

  “Hold on, Doc. I need a favor.”

  His tone was gentle and so was his touch, though she doubted he realized it. Turning, she saw a plea in his eyes.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m trusting you to drive the surrey while I ride alone. I want your word that you won’t try to run off with Nick.”

  His hand was still on her shoulder, holding her in place even though she had no desire to run. Considering the past hour, she thought the request was ridiculous. “Aren’t we past that point?”

  He tightened his grip. There was no malice in his touch, only a faint clinging that matched the anguish in his eyes. “I don’t know,” he said. “Are we?”

  “Yes. At least where Nick is concerned. But you’ll have to let go of me to find out.”

  He released her shoulder and rocked back on one hip while keeping his eyes tight on her face. “If the Bentons catch up with us, I’ll hold them off. The packhorse is rested. Let him take the bit and he’ll run. Can you handle that?”

  “Of course.” She had sounded confident, but her stomach churned at the thought of Rafe being alone in a gunfight.

  He quirked a grin. “Don’t look so worried, Doc. In spite of what you think, I’m pretty good at this sort of thing.”

  Susanna knew all about male bravado, but Rafe had proved himself by turning in Frank Benton. She also knew that he’d do anything to keep Nick safe. “I’ll go straight to the Duke ranch. We’ll wait for you there.”

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  She turned to the surrey and pulled herself up, belatedly feeling his hand on her elbow. The small courtesy seemed out of place in the empty meadow, yet it had come naturally to him. Looking down, she saw the deep lines shaping his mouth and wondered where he’d learned his manners and why he was determined to forget them.

  As she slid across the seat, he strode to the roan, pulled himself into the saddle and gripped the line securing the two extra horses. The gelding fidgeted with irritation,
but Rafe took it in stride, murmuring until the animal gave a snort and stood still. After looping the line around the pommel, he turned the horse with the grace of a natural rider. Like herself, he sat straight with a bend in his knees, as if he’d gotten his training in a riding ring rather than on a ranch—not that she could see him in jodhpurs. His snake-skin boots lazed in the stirrups with too much defiance for that kind of elegance.

  With a click of his tongue, he turned the gelding and stopped next to the surrey. They were eye to eye when he caught her staring at him. With a knowing glint, he tipped his hat. “After you, Dr. Leaf.”

  Susanna didn’t know which disturbed her more—his insolent tone or the knowledge that he’d be ogling her as they rode. Since his scrutiny was unavoidable, she lifted the reins and urged the horse down the trail.

  The rattle of the surrey blocked out the clop of the gelding’s hooves, but it did nothing to ease the sense of Rafe’s gaze on her back. She considered telling him to keep his eyes on the trail, but acknowledging her awareness would have been a defeat. Instead she sat still with her braid tickling her neck. As annoyed as she’d been by his teasing, she would have welcomed it now. A rude remark would have given her a reason to put him in his place. Instead his silence felt like a wall at her back, trapping and shielding her at the same time. Given his rude proposition, she didn’t like that idea at all.

  But she had also seen him be careful with Nick. In spite of his toughness, Rafe LaCroix had a streak of goodness, as if he knew how it felt to be lonely. Did he crave companionship like she sometimes did? Did he look up at the stars and wish for things he didn’t have?

  Star light, star bright…

  She hadn’t thought of the rhyme since her twin brothers had been out of diapers, but she had wished on countless stars over the years and still yearned for a few of those childhood dreams. A husband. Children. A house full of chatter…. Her thoughts drifted to Timothy Duke and she sighed. Showing up in his yard with a bounty hunter and a gunshot child wasn’t going to help their budding courtship, which wasn’t going well anyhow. Last week he had invited her to Sunday supper at his sister’s house. Susanna had been charmed by the invitation, but his sister had been quick to criticize her.